#the only times i opened it was when i accidentally clicked on it

[ur-sick-and-married]

CRAWLING BACK TO YOU • PAIGE BUECKERS

Ever thought of calling when you’ve had a few?

🎵: Do I Wanna Know? covered by Hozier

TW: suggestive, angst, reader is an alcoholic, usage of Y/N, mentions of nausea and vomiting

SUMMARY: you get drunk to avoid running back to your ex…but tonight it brought you right to her.

A/N: I went to a UConn game the other day!

How many times were you going to find yourself in this situation? You were strolling around the crowded house, searching for anyone that would have you. You were drunk again, like you were most nights.

You did this a lot now; get wasted and hookup with strangers. The alcohol allowed you to loosen up, finally find some peace, and the hookups kept you feeling useful and pleasured.

The two of those things also kept you from groveling at the knees of UConn’s best female guard.

You and Paige had been in a serious relationship. You loved that woman. She was the best thing that ever happened to you.

But you’d fucked up. Your love for booze had scared her off. She got sick of attending parties every weekend, sick of having to take away the bottle, sick of dragging you from parties, sick of pushing you off at home when your drunk self tried to start something, sick of nursing your nasty hangovers. She had told you to chill, promised you movie nights and dates instead of parties.

You never listened, so eventually she sat you down and, with a lot of difficulty, ended things. It had become too much for her. She needed to focus on school and basketball. It was her last year in college, after all. She wanted to make it count.

Without Paige, your need for alcohol only grew, which is how you found yourself in the middle of a frat party. Things had been usual, until someone screamed and everyone started fleeing. You knew what this meant; cops. You started running, too. If the police got you, you were screwed. Chugging drink after drink was fun, until the idea of getting caught came up.

You stumbled through the woods behind the house. This was where people typically ran, but you were alone. Maybe you were going the wrong way? You could see lights up ahead, so you went towards those. If there was civilization, you could find your way home. Once you made it through the trees, you found yourself in a campus that you quickly recognized…UConn.

Well, you thought, at least you knew your way around.

You started wandering, your phone in hand, waiting until you had good enough WiFi to get an Uber.

When you first heard the sound, you thought you were imagining it. Surely it was just the sound you associated with the school.

Nope…when the small, outdoor court came into view, you realized there was someone dribbling a basketball.

That someone was Paige Bueckers.

What were the chances?! You needed to go, before she saw you. You turned around fast, and tripped over your own feet. Your body hit the grass with a small “oof” sound escaping your lips.

“Y/N?!” Paige called when she saw you.

She was at your side within a second, immediately trying to get you up.

“Hi, Paige…” You said awkwardly, trying not to slur.

“The hell are you doing here?” She asked as she pulled you to your feet easily.

“I was…in town.” You shrugged.

She was gonna say something else, when her nose wrinkled. “Jesus…you smell like beer.”

It clicked in her brain just then. You opened your mouth to lie again, but all that came out was a shaky, alcohol scented breath.

“Ar you drunk?” She asked quietly.

“Just…a little bit.” You mumbled.

“Bullshit!” She exclaimed abruptly. “You’re wasted, aren’t you?!”

“I didn’t mean to be!” You yelped.

“Sure.” She scoffed. “You accidentally took a few shots? Chugged some beer? Drank some soda that you didn’t know had vodka in it?!”

You huffed, not knowing what to say. She was always right when it came to this.

“I just need to get home…” You whispered shakily.

“Where were you?” She whispered back.

“Party.”

“Hm. It’s early for you to leave a party.”

“Cops.”

An awkward silence passed. She watched you fight intoxicated tears.

“What do you want me to do, Y/N?” She sighed.

“Could you…get me a ride?” You said. “I’ll pay you back, I swear.”

“Where are you going? Home?” She asked.

You nodded.

“What if you go out again, huh? The bar? The club?”

“I’m super tired, Paige.” You shook your head. “I’m not going out.”

“You think I’m gonna believe you?” She scoffed. “You’ve pulled that shit before.”

“Then what are you gonna do?” You said, frustrated.

She sighed again, dragging a hand down her face.

“You’ll stay with me.” She announced. “Just for tonight.”

You froze. Really? Your ex would be the one taking you home?

“Come on.” She said, hesitantly placing a hand on your shoulder. “Let’s go. It’s getting cold.”

She led you back to her apartment. You were a bit unsteady, starting to feel the negative effects of the alcohol.

“Don’t you have roommates?” You asked once you were inside her building.

“They don’t mind.” She waved that off. “Just be quiet and they won’t care.”

“We shouldn’t do this…” You said.

Usually when you got drunk, you were all over her, insisting she go home with you.

You knew better by now.

“Don’t worry about it.” Paige said softly. “I just…I can’t let you go home alone right now.”

The both of you went up to her dorm. She pulled out her keys and opened the door, inviting you in. When you struggled to slip your shoes off, feeling unsteady, she knelt down to get them off for you.

“You feeling sick?” She whispered.

“Uh…not really.” You replied, despite that fact that your head was spinning.

Paige saw right through the lie.

“Go in my room.” She told you. “I’ll be right there.”

You quietly went to her bedroom, remembering where it was, of course. You perched awkwardly on the edge of her bed, waiting.

Paige came in a few minutes later, after convincing her roommates they they wouldn’t be hearing any grotesque noises. She carried a small trash bag and a glass of water.

“Drink up.” She instructed, giving you the cup. She then placed the bag in your lap. “And if you have to puke, do it in there.”

“Thanks.” You muttered.

She knelt down in front of you, looking at you with those insanely blue eyes. “C’mon…drink.”

You took a few sips of the water. You knew she was being helpful, but the water kind of made you want to throw up.

“Just hold onto that bag.” Paige said when she noticed your facial expression.

She stood up, and walked over to her closet. After digging around for a moment, she came back with a t-shirt and comfy shorts. The shirt looked so familiar…you suddenly realized why.

You would always steal her clothes when you were a couple. She often found her hoodies in your bedroom, her sweatpants (which were actually ginormous on you because she was so tall), mixed with your laundry. You rarely hid it well. Sometimes you’d just show up at her place in her clothes.

Your favorite thing to steal was one of her March Madness shirts. It was very comfy, and a reminder of how amazing Paige and her team were. So when she gave you the shirt that drunken night? You quickly burst into tears.

“What? What’s wrong?” Paige asked worriedly.

“You…you remembered.” You sniffled.

She didn’t know what to say. She felt sort of caught. She muttered a quick “Of course I did” and took the water from you.

Her bedroom was dark, only slightly lit by the moon shining through the window, so she didn’t see much when she helped you out of your party clothes. Not like she’d never seen you naked. Once you were in the comfortable clothes, she pulled the blankets on her bed back, allowing you to slip in.

“I’m gonna stop, Paige.” You whispered, still crying as she tucked you in. “I’m gonna stop drinking.”

She sighed. She’d heard you say this before, but never so seriously.

“Good.” She said. “You’re gonna kill yourself at this point.”

“I know…” You whimpered. “I don’t want to die…”

You were quick to put your head in your hands so she wouldn’t see you cry even more. She bit her lip at this. She was angry at you, for continuing to abuse alcohol, but…she hated that she was. She just wanted to comfort you. She never liked seeing you cry.

“Let’s just try to sleep, alright?” She said softly, climbing over you to lie down.

She got in the bed, keeping a safe distance. Neither of you were very comfortable. You were too tense. You hadn’t been in bed together in ages. It would’ve been nice if you weren’t so awkward.

You really tried to pull yourself together. You wiped your eyes, took deep breaths, focused on good thoughts. But your drunken tears kept coming.

Suddenly, Paige was shifting, and she was getting closer. She laid on her side, facing you. Then you felt her hand carding through your hair, gently scratching your scalp.

“What’re you doing…?” You whispered.

“When I used to do this, you’d be out cold within minutes.” She whispered back.

She kept doing the soothing motion. Your eyes were getting heavy, like she’d hoped.

“I’m really gonna stop.” You muttered.

“I know…just sleep.” She murmured.

“I miss you.” You whispered. In your half asleep, intoxicated state, you didn’t think twice about saying that.

She swallowed hard, her hand faltering for only a second. “I told you to go to sleep.”

“I just wanted you to know.” You answered.

“I know.” She repeated, smiling a little at the small amount of sass in your voice. “You don’t have to miss me, though. I’m right here.”

Exhaustion was finally getting to you, so you were falling into a deep sleep.

“I’ll be right here.” She whispered a few seconds before you fully sank into unconsciousness. “We’ll figure this out…we always do."

[nikatyler]

Oh hey I can't see tumblr live anymore, I thought they weren't shutting it down until tomorrow :D

[mrsbarnesblog]

i am not the only one who saw that, right?

masterlist

summary: your friends find out that you secretly dating their enemy, but their opinion might completely change when they see Rafe from another point of view

words count: 2.2k

warnings: secret relationship, pogue!reader, attempted assault, mention of blood, soft and protective Rafe

a/n: inbox is open for requests💘

“You cannot be dating Rafe fucking Cameron, Y/N!” John B exclaimed, burying his hands in his hair and walking all around the place. 

“No, seriously, this is not a good idea.” Sarah looked at you, giving out a nervous laugh. 

You were currently surrounded by your friends, who were all practically yelling at you after they accidentally saw a message from Rafe on your phone. You were one of the pogues; you never hanged out around the kooks, but somehow, when you were visiting Sarah a few months ago, you got into a random conversation with Rafe, and since that moment, the connection between you two has only gotten stronger. 

It was an instant click and as much as you both tried to deny the spark, it was there. As you started going out, secretly from everyone, of course, you decided to keep it private until the right time. 

“Alright, guys, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I knew that this would be your reaction. It just happened, okay?” You rubbed the bridge of your nose, already feeling a headache from the tense situation. All of your friends were standing on the opposite side of you and it felt like they were just attacking you. 

“What were you thinking? You know that he hates people like us, like you. We are pogues, Y/N. How the hell did that even happen?” Kiara was standing with her hands on her hips, as her piercing eyes were studying you. You felt awful looking at Pope, who was the one who always supported you, but he just shook his head and stepped away. 

“I don’t know. It just happened. We talked once when Sarah left, then I accidentally met him a few times in town, and then he texted me. He’s not bad when you know him closer.” You sighed. “Look, I know Rafe was a lot of trouble for us. He did bad things; I know that. But he’s not like that; he’s sweet and caring, and he has never shown any sign of being disrespectful towards me. I just can’t deny my feelings for him.”

“Honey, Rafe is not a good person. He doesn’t care about anything or anyone; he’s evil, selfish and manipulative.” Sarah stepped closer to you, touching your hand. “He’ll play with you, hurt your feelings and just throw you away.”

“And he probably just wants to get into your pants.” JJ grumbled, also taking a defensive position. 

“I haven't even slept with him yet, JJ!” You desperately snapped at him. It felt ridiculous, like all of them turned against you at the same time. Sure, Rafe wasn’t the sweetest person to them before, but they didn’t even give you a chance to say something in your defense. “And you’re wrong too, Sarah. All of Rafe’s actions were just to get people’s attention and appreciation. All it took for me to get on his soft side was to just listen to him and give him some affection. Other people didn’t care enough, including you and your father. He needs someone who he can trust and open up to because he’s hurt.” 

“No, Y/N. If you think that he loves you, then he just got into your head. My brother doesn’t love anyone. It will end badly; I just know that.” 

Tears gathered in your eyes, and a lump in your throat made it difficult to say anything back, so you just stupidly stayed there. You had no strength to fight with all five of them at the same time. You turned around, silently getting back in the car, even though your head was filled with doubt and dark thoughts because of their words. 

For the next few days, it was tough for all of you. You and the rest of the group were still close, and even though they were completely against your relationship, you still met and hung out. The pit in your heart was still there, no matter how hard you tried to act nonchalant and not let their words get into your head. 

Rafe noticed the change in your behavior—that you were upset with something—but he didn’t put any pressure on you and allowed you to decide for yourself when you wanted to open up. 

Pogues decided to go to some party on the cut near the beach and as much as you tried to refuse, Sarah and Kiara managed to drag you there. You all rarely went to such places, preferring to hang out in your little circle, but apparently everyone wanted to clear their heads and saw it as the best opportunity. 

It was pretty fun with a bunch of people you did not know, some music, and drinks, and you mostly hung out with your friends. Though quickly it got overwhelming and made you want to go home or at least go outside of the house to get some fresh air. As you left your friends and wanted out from the backyard to a part of the beach, you didn’t notice the guy who had been eyeing you the whole evening. 

He came out of nowhere from your back, his arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you off the ground. You yelled at the sudden and unwanted touch, and your heart seemed to drop into your stomach when you realised that it wasn’t just a joke from JJ, who liked to scare you. You started wiggling in his hands to get free, but he was fighting you back, dragging you up when you fell to your knees on the ground. 

It was such a mess trying to scratch and punch him that you almost did not notice his hand coming into contact with your face several times. You screamed again, this time loud enough, until you saw JJ running towards you. The guy behind you pushed you away as soon as he saw someone, and you fell to the ground with a loud huff. 

“That fucking bastard!” JJ was right near you, helping you to get up as tears streamed down your face. He tried to comfort you, checking your body for any injuries, but you pushed his hands away, wrapping your own around yourself in a defensive way.

“Oh my god, Y/N!” You heard Kiara, along with your other friends, calling your name. “What the hell happened?”

“H-he attacked me.” You sniffed, trying to catch your breath and, with shaking hands, reaching to the pocket of your jeans shorts to get out your phone. All of them looked at each other, questioning your actions, until you pressed someone’s contact button and put the phone to your ear. “Can y-you pick me up, p-please?” You sniffed again, now trembling from the adrenaline. 

“Baby? Are you crying? Where are you?” You heard your boyfriend’s concerned voice through the phone, feeling how JJ tensed beside you. 

“I’m on the cut. Near the beach. There’s a party and... Please, Rafe.” 

“I’m coming, angel. Just wait for me, ‘kay?” You heard the sound of the car engine at the other end of the line. Rafe didn’t ask any more questions, and as soon as you mumbled quiet 'mhm’ he ended the call. 

You all heard him before you saw him. The sound of the tires drifting through the sandy street was loud, drawing attention to the expensive car that was unusual to see at this part of the island. 

Rafe didn’t bother to properly park, turn off the engine or even close the door when he saw you sitting on some old chaise lounge, with his sister and Kie trying to talk to you and your other friends arguing nearby. 

The girls stepped away from you as soon as they saw Rafe running towards you with a furious expression on his face and ready to deal with anyone who made you cry. It looked like he didn’t even care about the pogues, with whom he always had to get into arguments; he was fully focused on your shivering form.

“Baby, what’s wrong? What happened?” He squatted down in front of you, and you started sobbing again. Your hands immediately found their place around his neck, and, before he could even properly look at your face, you pulled him closer to get some sense of comfort from his warmth and smell. Rafe hugged you back, soothingly rubbing your back. His eyes shot towards your friends, who were watching in awe at the interaction. “Which one of you did that?”

“It’s not us, you idiot. Some guy jumped her when she walked outside.” Sarah said, rolling her eyes at her brother. “JJ heard screaming, and when we walked outside, he ran away.” Rafe pulled away, finally taking in your appearance.

Your knees were covered in dried blood mixed with the sand. He gently took your hands to see the palms scratched from you trying to catch yourself before hitting the ground. Rafe’s eyes were burning with fury, showing his side that he rarely revealed in front of you. His hand reached to move your hair from your face, noticing a red, now already turning purplish, bruise covering the side of your cheek.

“Holy shit, sweetheart.” He softly brushed his fingertips along your cheek and you leaned into the touch, closing your eyes. Your bottom lip started quivering and you bit inside your cheek to calm yourself down. “Sh-h im here, okay? You’re safe. Did you see him? What did he look like? Just tell me and I’ll deal with it.” He almost begged, but you only shook your head. JJ suddenly stepped closer, slightly hesitating to actually normally communicate with his longtime enemy,  but he thought that it was the least that he could do for you.

As much as he hated The Kooks King, JJ knew that Rafe was the best option to find the guy who hurt you. 

“Tall, with dark and curly hair. Never seen him before, probably someone new on the island, but I’ll recognize him.” They looked at each other for a moment, and Rafe just simply nodded, turning his attention back to you. 

“I’ll find him, ‘kay? I promise I will.” He gently took both of your hands in his, bringing them to his lips to place a soft kiss on your knuckles. “We should go now. I need to take care of your knees and that bruise, baby. You don’t mind going to Tanneyhill, yeah?”

“Thank you, Rafe.” You whispered, slightly bending forward to ask for a kiss. Rafe smiled at you, his thumbs gently swiped the leftovers of the tears under your eyes, and then he kissed you on your forehead, nose, and gently pecked your lips. 

Your heart flattered at his soft touches and for a second, it felt like you two were in your own little bubble. Rafe's eyes shimmered slightly in the moonlight, and the way he looked at you, soft and caring, made you want to kiss him again and again. You suddenly snapped out of the trance, looking back at your friends, who all had different levels of shock and uncertainty written on their faces. 

“C’mon, pretty girl.” Rafe stood up, lifting you in bridal style without an effort, carefully not to hurt your bleeding knees. He almost walked away, but then sighed, turning back to look at his sister. “You coming home with us or somethin’?”

“Um, no, I’ll be with John B. It seems like I would be third wheeling with you anyway.” She shrugged, not being able to keep a smile when you two met with your eyes. 

Rafe then looked at JJ, thinking his words over. “I appreciate it, Maybank.” 

They exchanged a tight nod, both slightly shocked that for the first time ever, they communicated without biting each other's heads off. You leaned closer to Rafe, comfortably nestling in his protective hands, and looked at your friends, who were still too shocked to say anything. 

“I’ll see you guys later, okay? 

Everyone agreed, saying goodbye to you and asking you to text them when you get there safely. They saw how Rafe made sure to slowly put you into the passenger seat, then circled the car and drove away. An awkward silence fell around them, everyone at a loss for words. 

“Okay, so I am not the only one who saw that, right?” Pope spoke first, looking around the place as if he were trying to find something. “Rafe freaking Cameron just was acting cute and didn’t threaten to do something to us?” His own body physically shrugged at the word ‘cute’.

“I don’t know, dude. We all just probably drank something and it’s messing with our heads.” 

[cursedyuri]

so, your best friend accidentally sent you a video of her masturbating. what now?

18+ below! smut smut smut!

ellie’s bedroom is heavy with the scent of sex, her fingers still pruned from her own wetness. she’s spent the last few minutes tense and panicked, too paralyzed with anxiety to get up and put some clothes on, and she’s considering what she’ll change her name to and where she’ll move to start a new life when you finally, finally text her back.

it’s okay. give me a second to reply, alright?

the weight on her chest eases a bit at your reassurance, but a new spark of uncertainty flares up at the second part of the message: give me a second to reply. jaw tight, she sends you a question mark, then follows up with you don’t have to respond. it’s probably better if you don’t?? again i’m so fucking sorry.

but as the minutes tick by, slow and lazed, she starts to panic again. her mind conjures every possible response you could send her next: an angry thesis statement on why ellie’s a disgusting pervert, a seething comment about how stupid she must be for sending a video like that so carelessly. would you ever look at her the same way? would things ever be the same?

all it takes is another notification from you to make every imagined worst-case scenario evaporate. ellie clicks the notification as soon as it pops up, chewing on the soft flesh of her inner lip.

it’s a video.

you sent her a video.

she hits the play button without a second thought, heartbeat thudding in her ears.

“i know you’re probably embarrassed,” you say, head tilting as you frown with sympathy. a blush paints ellie’s cheeks bright red. “but i need you to know how wet that made me.”

holding the camera up, you extend your arm outwards to reveal the rest of your body - your naked body, ellie realizes with a shock. she sits up in bed, back ramrod straight, her phone shaking as a nervous tremor strikes through her. but she can’t look away - not when you’re tracing a hand down the soft curves of your body, fingertips grazing over one peaked nipple, then moving lower, lower. ellie swears she’s forgotten how to breathe.

you release a pleased hum. “i liked watching you touch yourself,” you say, so matter-of-fact. “i hope you like watching me.”

and she does, god she does. she settles back down onto the mattress, eyes never leaving the screen as you work two fingers through your soaked folds. you moan and sigh and keen, rolling your hips down against your own hand, the wet sounds of your pussy so intoxicating, ellie can’t believe she’s gone her whole life without seeing you like this.

and it might be wrong, the way her own hand drifts between her legs to find herself still hot and wet, but she doesn’t have it in herself to care. she dips a finger inside of herself as she watches you ride your own hand, grinding down on your palm as your fingers work in and out of your cunt. she finds a rhythm that matches your own; soon enough, you’re both gasping at the pleasure building beneath your waistline. with every roll of your hips, ellie’s cunt tightens, flooding with slickness - as if she could get any wetter.

as you get closer to the edge, your grip on your phone falters and the camera starts to shake. ellie hisses and curses under her breath when your phone captures the blissed-out look on your face: eyes rolled back, brows pulled together, teeth sinking into your lower lip.

“oh - oh my god,” you stutter, panting, “i’m gonna come, ellie.”

ellie. ellie ellie ellie.

“holy fuck.” ellie’s pussy clamps down around her fingers at the sound of her name on your lips; her thumb glides over her clit just right, and she didn’t think she’d come this fast but she does, her vision exploding into blinding white as her orgasm crashes into her. it’s the only time she looks away from the video on her screen - but she certainly hears your orgasm, all high-pitched moans and ragged breaths, your cunt gushing onto your fingers.

when ellie finds the strength to open her eyes again, the video is still playing. you’re catching your breath, chest shimmering with a thin layer of sweat. you look at the camera and smile. ellie thinks she might pass out.

“thanks for the video,” you say, lifting your free hand up to wave.

when you bring your fingers to your mouth and purse your lips around them, sucking them clean of your own come, ellie’s sure she’s going to pass out.

and then, she decides, she’s going to fuck you stupid.

[itsoutrageouss]

Part four of Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley seeing you cry for the first time, due to demand which I am (so) grateful for. Simon’s accidentally a little mean at the wrong time lol- readers on her period.

It’s the second time Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley sees you cry that he looses himself into some kind of caretaker instinct.

The last time it had happened, it was after a brutal mission where he’d found you as a crying heap on the floor. So naturally his heart started pounding painfully in his chest when he creaked the door open to your room and saw you curled in bed, sniffling softly.

Once again the vulnerability you showed seemed to hurl him away like a storm. It was such a precious, private side of you and he wanted to go on his knees for you in thanks for allowing him to see it.

He’s by your side with three stalking striders, crouching down next to the bed. His hand hovers over your waist, then your shoulder, then your face because he doesn’t know if he can, or even where he should touch you right now, your shoulders shaking as your head nuzzles into your tear stained pillow.

“Hey. Stop.” He says, voice almost holding a small tremble, laced with panic because as much as he adored this side of you, he wanted you to smile again. Please?

You didn’t respond, only curled further away like an uninterested cat. He frowns and then grabs your neck, gently turning it until you meet his gaze. He wants to gasp at how pretty you look with glistening, red cheeks and glossy eyes, lashes sticking together as you pout at him.

“What is it lovie?” The nickname slips before he knows how to stop it and he winces internally, tensing. But it seems to coax you to nuzzle your face into his hand instead, and he keeps it completely still, scared that a single movement would scare you away. He feels your cold cheek press into his palm, itching to curl his fingers into the soft skin.

“Nothing” you whine.

He huffs. Jesus Christ.

“Nothing, yeah? That’ why you’re crying like a baby?” He smiles, eyes crinkling behind the mask but yours have closed and he sees your face contort into more sadness, more crying and his eyes go wide, immediately holding you a little tighter.

“No! No, shit, sweet’eart it was a joke” he says quickly, voice urgent. You usually took all his teasing with great stride or an even better comeback, but seeing you cry even more because of him made a strange knot form in his throat that he couldn’t seem to swallow down.

You demonstratively turn your back to him on the bed. It was actually insane to him, seeing you like this. You were always sharp, focused, witty; slapping Johnny and Simon on the arm when they start bantering too much on the way to a mission.

He was sort of addicted to it, he thought, as even your back turning made something warm flutter in his stomach as he reached for your shoulder, entire hand able to envelop it and tug gently.

“M’ sorry? M’ sorry just… talk to me.” Silence ensues.

“Please.” The word falls unnaturally from his lips.

It seems to be the keyword because your head turns painfully slow until you blink up at him, now with a slight scowl.

“It hurts” you whisper, bottom lip jutting out. He immediately pulls your cover down to your thigh to start looking you over for injuries but your cold hands tug his wrist and puts his palms over your lower stomach. He blinks.

“You pregnant?” He blurts.

Your eyes widen and he swears he sees a hint of a smile and triumph floods his system. “No you idiot! I’m on my period. Cramps!” You say with a shake of your head, eyes closing for a beat.

He was a bloody idiot to be fair. A lot of things from today seemed to click for him when you said that, and his shoulders relax, head tilting as his eyes narrow, framed by the black mask. His hands on your stomach fan out, thumbs stroking the skin under your shirt. He feels your muscles tighten at his touch.

“Sensitive?” He muses.

“Shut it” you mumble, looking away and trying not to let the enjoyment of his touch show too much, but your eyes flutter closed and he could practically hear you purring. But he doesn’t say anything, once again afraid he’ll ruin this little bubble that you’ve let him be a part of, for reasons he doesn’t understand.

After long minutes of comfortable silence, his hands running over the expanse of your stomach, caressing and massaging softly, he sees your lips part in soft breaths. Slowly and lingering, his hands retreat so he doesn’t do anything stupid. But you whine, immediately noticing the lack of his touch, even in your half asleep state, grabbing for him. His jaw flexes as he tried not to smile.

“M’ gonna run you a bath, lovie. I’ll be right back.” He promised, suddenly turning into some kind of caretaker role he never thought he wanted to be. Until you came along and now he finds himself wanting to do all kinds of things for you, after seeing how you reacted to his touch. The scrunch of your brows when he tells you he’ll run you a bath gives him a high he can ride for days.

He’s just trying to repay how sweetly you bandaged his hands weeks ago. To repay how you played along to his little story at the last mission about how you and him had met.

Trying to repay these insatiable and foreign feelings you brought forth in him, so you wouldn’t take them away. Ever.

Now maybe he just had to actually tell you about them? No. No way. The thought was forced from his mind immediately.

series masterlist

[girlrotterr]

✩ ⁺ ∿ oh baby, can you hear me moan? ◦　 ♩

roommate!ellie x reader Summary: You come home earlier than usual to find your roommates door slightly ajar. You can’t help but peek inside.

You’re home earlier than usual, and the place is eerily quiet—no random guitar strumming or the faint hum of a video game in the background. Ellie’s always got something going on, whether it’s tinkering with her beat-up acoustic guitar or completely failing at some cooking experiment that leaves the kitchen smelling like burned regret. 

You shrug off your jacket, the familiar scent of scorched food hits you—a sure sign Ellie’s been at it again. 

You can almost picture the disaster waiting in the kitchen. 

Maybe she attempted a stir-fry or tried to get fancy with eggs, which, for some reason, she consistently messes up. You remember the last time: the pan had been abandoned in the sink, its bottom crusted with what could only be described as scrambled cement, and Ellie had offered you an apologetic grin as she flicked at her guitar strings, mumbling something like, my bad…

Still smirking at the thought, you head toward the kitchen, but surprisingly, the mess isn’t as bad as you expected. A single burnt toast sits abandoned on a plate, and beside it, a bottle of peanut butter left open, its lid placed on the edge of the counter. You grab a spoon to clean up, noticing that Ellie’s nowhere in sight. Usually, she’s hovering near her messes, trying to fix it or making self-deprecating jokes to play off the mess.

Curious, you wander down the narrow hallway toward her room, your steps thudding along  the old wood floor. You pass by her door, which is slightly ajar, and immediately slow your pace. 

It’s not like Ellie to leave her door cracked. 

Your hand pauses on the doorframe, a soft click as your knuckles accidentally tap against it. 

You hesitate, thinking maybe you should leave her be, but then—before you can make the decision—a faint noise escapes from inside, followed by a sharp, quick breath. 

Your brow furrows as you inch closer, pushing the door open a little more.

Ellie was sprawled across her bed, her head thrown back against the pillows, messy hair fanning out in every direction. Her breath came in uneven gasps, wet, squelching sounds filling the room. 

Fuck, she was too desperate to even bother taking off her clothes. 

Her brown jacket hung loosely off her shoulders, the fabric wrinkled and tugged from her movements. Her half-unbuttoned flannel exposed her perky nipples, her jeans were pushed down just past her thighs, the belt hanging loosely, the metal buckle clinking against her skin as her hips rocked. 

Your breath hitches, catching in your throat as you take in the sight of her hand pumping beneath her boxers, her movements quick, almost frantic. Heat floods your body, cheeks burning as your eyes lock onto her. 

"Oh fuck, yes," she breathes, her voice low and rough. 

You can’t tear your eyes away. 

Ellie spread her legs wider, her right thigh twitching slightly as her fingers pump deeper inside.  Your cunt began to ache as your eyes caught on what she was holding. It was your panties—your favorite pair—clutched tightly in her fist, the soft lace crumpled and wrinkled between her fingers. You swallowed hard, eyes tracing the wet patch staining the fabric, the glistening spot a clear sign that she had been grinding against them. 

“Just a little more…” she breathes, eyes fluttering shut as she loses herself in the moment, her lips parting slightly. “God, I needed this…” 

“Come on, don’t stop,” she murmurs, biting her lip, her brow furrowing in concentration. “Just a bit more… just like that.” There’s desperation in her voice, a plea.

“Fuck, why is this so good?” she gasps, her voice whining with need, eyes still closed, lost in the sensations of her aching cunt“Why does it feel so much better when I think of you?” 

“Ellie…” you breathe, barely a whisper, but she doesn’t hear you.

She’s too lost in her own fantasy. 

"God, I love this," she moaned softly, her voice husky, as her hand moved frantically between her legs. Her fingers pumped faster and faster, her perky tits bouncing with each thrust, the bed beneath her squeaking. "Can’t get fucking enough."

You knew you should turn away, that you’d crossed a line simply by staying. 

Your breath hitched, the air suddenly too hot, as your hand slipped beneath your waistband, trembling fingers brushing against the damp fabric of your panties. You shifted them to the side, biting your lip as your fingers found your aching clit, tracing small circles. 

You tried to keep your breathing shallow, hoping she wouldn’t hear you over her own sounds. Your soft moans mingled with the wet, squelching sounds filling the room. The heat between your legs became unbearable, a pulse that only grew stronger with each passing second. 

“Need you to fucking take it," Ellie breathed, her voice low and ragged. Her hips bucking harder, the pace of her fingers desperate. 

"Oh fuck," you whimpered, your voice shaky as the ache in your hole pulasated. The need was overwhelming, your hole throbbing with a desperate hunger you couldn’t ignore, your fingers moving faster to keep up with ellie’s pace. 

Ellie’s eyes narrowed, her brows furrowing together as her movements slowed. You watched, breathless, as she pulled her fingers out of her drenched hole, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Without hesitation, she pressed your panties against her soaked pussy, the lace clothing her cunt as her slickness coated the fabric.

With a low groan, she began to grind against it, her hips bucking, pressing harder and faster into the softness of the fabric. Her lips parted, a ragged breath escaping as her eyes fluttered shut, her head falling back against the pillows. The wet lace clung to her, the friction of it only making her grind harder.

"Love this... fuck, your panties... can’t get enough..." Her head fell back again, and she let out a deep groan, her fingers pressing the lace even harder against her aching clit.

A moan escapes your lips, quiet at first, but growing louder as the pleasure builds inside you. 

But in your desperation, you leaned a little too close to the door, your heart pounding like a drum in your chest. 

You and Ellie freeze, eyes locking in a moment of shock. 

Ellie’s eyes widen, her mouth agape.Her gaze drops slowly, lingering on your body, taking in the sight of your drenched pussy, your panties pushed to the side, the fabric clinging to your trembling thighs. 

You can hardly breathe. 

Oh fuuck.

You try to speak, to form a coherent thought, but all that escapes your lips is a breathless, “I…” 

Heat floods your cheeks, mingling with the aching throb of your pussy, pulsing with an urgent need. God— the way she’s staring at you, with that raw hunger in her eyes.

“Come here,” Ellie whispered, her chest heaving, struggling to catch her breath. 

You couldn’t resist it.

Ellie shuddered as you slid your hand between her trembling thighs. Shuddering as your fingertip circled her dripping entrance, her soft folds parting easily under your touch. With a needy moan, she guided your finger deeper, gasping as you penetrated her hole. The slick walls of her cunt clenched greedily around your fingers as Ellie bucked her hips, fucking herself on your hand with desperation.

"Fuuuck.." *she groaned, her eyes rolling back in ecstasy. Her cunt was absolutely drenched, leaking down her thighs as she rutted against you shamelessly. Ellie's needy whimpers filled the room, growing louder and more frenzied by the second.

"Fuck, just like that!" Ellie gasped, her hips bucking wildly. She gripped your shoulders tightly, her nails digging into your skin as she rode your fingers. Her juices flowed freely, coating your fingers and dripping down your wrist.

“Ohh fuckk mee…” She groaned as your fingers slipped out of her dripping hole. 

Without wasting a second, she quickly positioned herself above you, her slick folds hovering mere inches from your own. With a swift movement, Ellie slammed her cunt down onto yours, your aching clits rubbing together as your slick juices mixed. 

“ellie! please please please!" you moaned, tightening your grip onto her wrinkled bedsheets. 

"That's it, baby," she groaned, grinding her hips in tight circles.

She gripped your hips tightly, pulling you closer. The sounds of wet skin slapping against wet skin echoed, mingling with your moans and cries of pleasure. Ellie's perky breats bounced with each thrust, her hardened nipples grazing against yours. She gripped your hair, pulling your head back to expose your throat, which she attacked with biting kisses and sensual licks.

"Atta girl," Ellie whsipered, "Take what I give you."

[rockingbytheseaside]

Hey! Gosh I love your fics, you are so talented! <3 I have a request after your latest fic haha. The sentences 'It's only a matter of time before he accidentally slips and calls you his spouse in front of people.' would be the perfect plot, actually. When and how would the Harbingers calls their s/o 'their wife' in front of others first time? If you don't like it, you don't have to do it! i hope you have an awesome day!

(hehe, yes, accidentally… mmm. Enjoy!)

✦ They accidentally call you their spouse 

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Pantalone, Tartaglia

It was a complete and utter accident; just a harmless slip of the tongue. One moment, your beloved was politely introducing you to some of his Fatui subordinates, the other he inadvertently referred to you as “my spouse” in front of others. It would've been a sweet moment of shared laughter, were it not spoken in front of so many people of the Fatui. It’s not like your beloved’s subordinates would start correcting him, he's a Harbinger after all… now how would you navigate this awkward situation? 

✧ The ever-cold and calculating Pierro prevents any mistakes from slipping past him. Yet here he is, standing composed next to you as he gently gestures to you and claims:

“From here on out, my spouse shall reside in the Zapolyarny Palace and I expect all obedience to be directed towards them.” 

You went silent. The servants went silent. Even he went silent. You carefully murmured to him:

“... Pierro, dear. We are not married.” 

Somehow the Jester remained blank, as if the error of his brain eluded him. Or perhaps, he realized it was too late to reprimand his mistake, especially in front of the royal servants of the palace. He simply cleared his throat and nodded woefully: “Indeed, we aren't. My apologies.” 

The hushed murmurs of The Director’s “innocent mistake” spread soundlessly like an inside secret within the Palace's walls. It wasn't news that the Jester adored you, but to witness the typically collected Pierro clear his throat bashfully, while you stood there timidly after correcting his mistake was endearing. 

These rumors, of course, reached the ears of the 3rd of the Fatui Harbingers’ ears, Columbina. Such tales were her delight, a personal pastime, relishing the timid nature of your private relationship with Pierro. She just had to tease you two by reminding him of the incident. Thus, one day, she approached The Jester in his office on an inconspicuous day and asked:

“Oh, cheer up, Director. It's been months since your last mishap. Surely you wouldn't let your composure shatter in front of the one you call beloved so easily?”

“You are correct,” - Pierro replied to the Dove calmly. “It was a mistake. Hence, I amended it and made sure it's no longer an issue.”

That’s when Columbina’s gaze drifted to his hands, where he was not leisurely adjusting his cuffs but subtly displaying an ornament on his ring finger. His engagement ring. If the 3rd Harbinger could open her enigmatic eyes, she would stare absolutely wide-eyed and dumbfounded through her white ribbons. When the hell did he get engaged-?!

“Pierro, dear,” - you suddenly stepped in, that same embarrassed interjection escaping you “Please stop boasting about our engagement. We haven't made it official yet.” 

✧ The poor Fatui soldier under Il Capitano's recruit stood stiffly looking at their Harbinger. Was it dread or the web of discomfort one feels when seeing a couple argue over something entirely beyond their input? Because that's certainly what the current Fatui skirmisher felt when standing between you and Il Capitano. 

“I can't allow this, Capitano,” – you huffed, your head shaking in dismay. “You over-dedicate yourself in battles.” 

“We went over this, my cherished. I have to, it is my duty as the Captain. Not just for the Fatui’s sake, but for your own safety as well!” 

“No, no,” – you clicked your tongue. “Don’t give me that. You know that's not the issue… the issue is that you overwork yourself by beating everyone in a duel and not leaving me anything else to defeat! What am I supposed to do?!”

“But my beloved-!” 

That's how your lover's quarrel underwent, and the Fatui Skirmishers that kept blinking in disbelief, stood helpless as the argument ping-ponged between ‘who gets to defeat more enemies on the battlefield’. Finally, your beloved spoke with an irritated huff at your scolding:

“Well, did you perhaps consider that I do not wish for my spouse to overextend themselves and get recklessly injured over some personal records?”

“Oh, so now you-... What did you just call me?” 

The sudden realization caused a deafening silence between you and Capitano like a blade poised to strike. His pitch-black visage did not help to decipher whether he was grappling with his mistake or masking his shock. You insisted: “Capitano, what did you just call-”

“I did not say anything.” 

“You did, you…Hey-! Don't turn your back on me, come back here!” 

Perhaps The 1st of the Fatui Harbingers does not flee from a challenge like a pathetic coward. However, today was a great chance to use a tactful retreat, to put it softly, all in the hopes of escaping your wrath. How else would he explain his mishaps of calling you his ‘spouse’ so casually? If he confessed that he thought “it sounds so befitting for my one and only” he might as well just reveal every tender plan of a quiet life with you. And he can't have you teasing his affection for a domestic life alongside you. 

For now, fleeing was a wise and honorable choice, especially when you are ready to duel him any moment now.

✧ It was another one of those days in Il Dottore's lab. His fingers tap the surface of the table, chin resting on his palm, while a pen balanced precariously behind his ear. Delegating his final tasks for today, he supervised some final organizational matters in the lab while addressing some lab assistants with his usual air of nonchalant authority.

“Ensure all the surgical sets are properly sanitized and checked in the ultrasonic cleaner. I expect them neatly arranged by day’s end. My spouse prefers the equipment organized this way.”

One of the lab assistants stopped in their tracks, staring at him. 

“And don't inform them how some glassware shattered today. It would be irrelevant for them to worry…”

Mumbling to himself, Dottore only now realized that his lab assistants fell eerily silent, staying motionless as they blinked at him. Humming in confusion, he turned his attention at last, only to realize these unfortunate listeners were not gawing at him, but rather someone behind him.

Lo and behold, you stood there, behind him.

With a hand on your hip, you inquired with deceptive simplicity: “Oh? You have a spouse, dear?”

He pretends he wasn't aware of the conundrum and the absurdity of his slip-up. But even with his eyes covered behind that smooth black mask covering his eyes, you can see the haughty expression on his lips. Thus, he crossed his arms.

“Hm, Perhaps. You could say I do.”

“Then my condolences to your spouse. They must have the patience of a saint.”

The Doctor’s assistant had to repress their little chuckles. The tense atmosphere of the laboratory would always be dismissed with your ease, as you’d knowingly nod to Dottore’s colleagues and allow them to leave you two alone. Not even Dottore’s stern attitude would interfere otherwise, even if he tried to conceal his flustered composure at your mere words: “Well perhaps they are a saint, but also a handful for me to deal with.”

“Well, your hypothetical spouse is telling you it's late already and you should take a break for today.”

Conceding to your playful banter, The harbinger’s shoulders loosened up, a rare smile gracing him as he followed you with a wrapped arm around your shoulder. Your victory is marked by your knowing smile and Dottore would not object or conceal his infatuation by referring to you as his spouse. Even if he denies the marital titles as nothing but superficial formalities, he’d walk with you back to your shared personal quarters mumbling:

“Spouse’s orders it is, then.”

✧ It happened during a busy moment when Pantalone and you were at a tailor shop. After much persuasion that lasted weeks, your beloved succeeded at finally dragging you to a luxurious tailoring workshop, where store attendants welcomed you both and helped take your measurements with utter refinement and class.

You stood still with your arms extended, while the attendants did their swift duty with a measuring tape. In the mirror’s reflection before you, you caught sight of Pantalone standing a few steps away, his hand resting thoughtfully against his chin.

“Perhaps an elegant new blazer, white with golden accents?”

You remained still, looking absent-mindedly at the array of fabrics on display. “Dear, there is no need for every piece of clothing to look like it was made for a soirée. I am perfectly fine with a casual cotton blazer.”

The shop attendant closest to you stepped close with some swatches of fabrics to choose from, offering a polite smile. However, Pantalone had to shake his head and charmingly declare – “Oh, nonsense, my spouse deserves only the highest quality and looks when it comes to tailor-made pieces. Excuse me, may I inspect the catalogs for fabrics?”

With a polite nod, the shop assistant did not question the Harbinger or your baffled expression at the sudden choice of words. She was already moving around: “Most certainly, sir. I am sure you and your partner would love our available options. In fact, we also offer discounts for matching tailored ensembles for betrothed pairs if it's for a wedding or a honeymoon special.”

"Wait, wait… we are not-”

“Ah, wonderful,” Pantalone kept the same polite persona without missing a beat. However, the slight knowing smile did not go unnoticed as he glanced at you. “That will be excellent to keep in mind for the future."

What was promised as a quick visit to the tailor shop turned into Pantalone victoriously dragging you through multiple high-end workshops and analyzing the myriads of ‘honeymoon and wedding’ offers when it came to tailor-made clothes. And you, of course, could only gape at him while he kept that ever-charming grin.

“Pantalone, honey, we are not looking into engagement accessories. We are not married.”

“Oh? We are not?” - He feigned innocence and tilted his head. “Hehe, oops.”

✧ When Tartaglia made his way back with his men to Snezhnaya, the fuzzy white snow provided a stark white contrast to the shedding blood on the ground. Clear ruby red droplets stained the cool white terrain after the Harbinger’s successful expedition. 

“Lord Harbinger Tartaglia,” – a Pyro Agent approached, bowing in recognition. “Our reports are in. The site is clear; all abyssal monstrosities have been eliminated.”

Yet Childe was far from tranquil. The rush of battle was still hot in his blood, his hydro dual blades clutched tightly in his hands. Another mission dispelling any filth at the outskirts of Snezhnaya may be mundane for some Fatui skirmishers, yet for a man like Childe, this was his warm-up. 

“Ha… not bad. We finished much earlier today. And here I suspected this would take a whole day.” 

The Pyro Agent nodded – “Yes, sir, indeed. Judging by estimation, our troop would be back to the city by nightfall.”

“...Hold on, nightfall?” 

Suddenly, Tartaglia froze as if a deep culmination dawned on him. The confirmation from his subordinates did not quell his sudden shock. In mere seconds, all his battle rush and thrill of danger vanished before Tartaglia whipped around and exclaimed loudly to his men: 

“Teucer’s theater performance at school is today! My spouse is gonna kill me!” 

Without further words or thought, the Harbinger literally turned and sprinted as far as the horizon could see, leaving his subordinates baffled. Teucer? Spouse? This young Harbinger was married? 

“What… is he on about? I didn't know our lord Harbinger was married,” - the Pyro Agent mumbled, looking into the distance where the figure of a sprinting young man vanished off comically. An Anemoboxer Vanguard stepped nearby, adjusting his gauntlets. “I am pretty sure he isn't. It could be a family member.”

“Then who is the spouse…?” 

The Fatui colleagues exchanged shrugs before the other remembered – “Ah, could be his partner. Remember, they sometimes come to visit when he's training?”

“Oh, then definitely them.” – the two men stared off in the direction Tartaglia had gone, the bizarre image of their superior, so consumed by his bloodlust moments ago, suddenly halting everything to rush home for some kid’s theater performance. And accidentally calling his sweetheart his spouse would be hard to forget.

“Wanna bet he won't make it in time and his ‘spouse’ would teach him a lesson?” 

[sweetshuga]

Give me head ✰ MS

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

bf!matt! Giving him head after making fun of him for what he accidentally said on stream. "Yeah—pretty, fuckin’ choke on my cock, look at you taking me so well."

You were lounging on the living room couch, watching your boyfriend’s stream with headphones on and a can of soft drink in hand. "Yes, that’s much better, I’ll let you know, give me– give me head, I mean—Oh my god." Your eyes immediately snapped onto your phone screen and a loud burst of laughter slipped through your lips.

Your shoulders shaking with laughter as you saw Matt put his face in his hands, caught off guard by his own words. "Jesus, what is this kid saying?" You mumbled to yourself as you scrolled through the comments, seeing their fans bombarding them with comments about what he said.

𓆩♡𓆪

After what felt like years, they finally ended the stream and Matt walked out of his room—only to find you staring at him from the couch, a wide grin on your face and shoulders shaking with suppressed giggles. "Don’t–" you cut him off with a hearty laugh. "What–what was that? I can’t believe you just said that on stream nonetheless," you laughed, obviously finding it amusing but your boyfriend on the other hand—not so much.

"Give me– give me head," you mimicked his voice, laughing at how accurate it sounded. His eyes narrowed, a scoff leaving his lips, "you think you’re so funny huh? Go to my room." Your laughter died in your throat when you heard his tone, "Matt I was just teasing yo—" you tried to backpedal but the damage was already done when he cut you off, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Now."

You stood up and walked to his room, confused, and yet, you couldn’t help the heat pooling in between your legs at his demeanor and tone. Matt walked right behind you, closing the door when you both got inside; the soft click of the lock echoing in the quiet of his room.

You turned to look at him, "Matt—" he cut you off with a searing kiss, eliciting a soft gasp from you. And after kissing you senseless, he pulled back, a smirk playing on his lips, "get on your knees." You complied without a second thought, not like you could really think anyway – your mind fogged from the kiss.

He unbuckled his belt with expert ease, letting his pants pool down to his ankles, already straining against his boxer briefs. Your hands tentatively pulled down his briefs, letting his hefty length spring free, beads of precum leaking from the tip. You gulped softly, and looked up at your boyfriend, "c’mon pretty, wrap those lips around it," he held his shaft with one hand, the other holding the back of your head.

You obliged and opened your mouth, wrapping your lips around his throbbing cock. He groaned at the sensation, his hips bucking shallowly – feeding you more of his length – the tip of it hitting the back of your throat. "Yeah—pretty, fuckin’ choke on my cock, look at you taking me so well."

𓆩♡𓆪

wc. 480

note. English is not my first language!

Isa's notes. That time on stream when he tried to say "give me a hat" or something and accidentally said "give me head" instead.

Chris version!

xoxo 𓆩♡𓆪

© sweetshuga

[dazzlingjaeyun]

𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 – 𝐬𝐢𝐦 𝐣𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐮𝐧

bf!jake x gf!reader

୨୧ genre: smut, MDNI! | words: 1.3k | cw: mentions of alcohol, nicknames (baby/doll), making out, hickeys, dry humping?, fingering, hint of orgasm denial (?) (+ lmk if i missed anything!) ୨୧

hanna says: came across a request for this on my for you and decided to try, that's my first (and probably last lol) time writing content like this saur let's hope it's not too cringe

mature content under cut, minors do NOT interact!

────────────────────

it must have been somewhat between one and two in the morning when you heard your hotel room's door click, signaling that your boyfriend had come back.

jaeyun's eyes fell on the bed where you shifted slightly to face him.

"you're still up?", he whispered. from the way he had slight trouble pronouncing his words, you understood that he'd had a drink or two at his work event's after party. he would have taken you with him, but you weren't official yet, so the least he could do was take you on that trip and spend the little free time he got with you.

"mhh", you replied softly – and you swore you could hear him mumble thank god under his breath.

you reached for the small lamp on your bedside table, turning it on to light the room in a dim light. when you turned back around to face him, you found his eyes on you already. god, he looked so fine – dressed in simple black dress pants and shirt, a jacket with its sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms, the tips of his nose and ears slightly flushed, and his hair just a little messy from running his hands through it too many times.

jaeyun watched you as you stood up from bed and walked over to stand in front of him. you were still wearing only the shirt of his that you had put on after taking a shower in the afternoon before he had left. now, as the faint scent of your cologne mixed with his signature scent, reminding everyone who you belonged to, jaeyun wanted to rip his shirt off of you all over again. not to mention your choice of underwear – the black lace he liked on you the most.

"you need help?", you asked gently, putting on your most innocent face as you slowly let your hands wander over his clothed torso, up to his chest where you grabbed his jacket to take it off.

jaeyun felt his blood jolting through his body at your feather-light touch and the way you looked up at him with those big, doey eyes.

once his jacket was discarded on the floor, you hesitated a second, before reaching for his belt, aiming to open it.

jaeyun's breath hitched when one of your fingers accidentally brushed against his crotch. he grabbed your hands harshly, turned you around and took two big steps towards the door, making you stumble back in surprise until your back hit its cold wood.

"impatient, are we?" he mumbled, bringing his knee in between your thighs and pressing you against the door harder, "i was barely through the door."

his eyes were darker and his breath flatter than before, his lips slightly parted as his hands let go of your wrists and found their way under the fabric of your shirt and to your hips.

without another warning, he crashed his lips onto yours. the kiss was impatient and rough, nothing of the sweet boyfriend who had left for his work event earlier in the evening. you felt his tongue on your bottom lip, parting your lips a bit further to grant him access. your hands found their way to the back of his neck, pulling him in closer to deepen the kiss. a soft moan escaped you when you felt his knee pressing closer to your core, his tight grip on your hips keeping you steady.

he pulled away, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his, before kissing his way over your jawline, down your neck and to that one sensitive spot right above your collarbone, where he began sucking and biting your skin, making sure to leave a mark.

you let your head rest against the door, closing your eyes and letting out quiet moans from time to time. jaeyun left a trace of wet kisses across your neck, softly sucking here and there, covering you in as many hickeys as it would take for the whole world to finally know you're his and his only.

you felt the heat that had started pooling between your legs the second you had touched him grow more and more unbearable, so you tried to arch your hips slightly into his leg that he still kept stable between your thighs. the action didn't go unnoticed by your boyfriend, causing him to grin against the skin of your neck and tightening his grip on your hips.

"so impatient", he teased again, "couldn't wait for me to come back and fill you up, hm?"

"just wanted to help you with your clothes", you tried to object, but your body betrayed you with another moan when he grabbed your hips even tighter than before and slowly rocked them back and forth on his thigh for a moment.

"just wanted to help? so you're telling me that if i touched you now, you wouldn't be soaking?", he asked, his voice now radiating pure confidence – he knew the effect he had on you and the way your body responded to his.

you didn't reply, instead pulled your bottom lip between your teeth a bit and just looked up at him.

he pulled away his leg from between yours and let one of his hands wander from your hip to your clothed core, never breaking eye contact.

your breath hitched when he pulled your underwear to the side and slid one finger through your folds. "thought so", he said triumphantly as he felt your arousal coating his digit from just the simplest touch.

"just wanted to help, hm? didn't plan this when you wore these?", he asked as he grabbed your panties and pulled them down, letting them pool around your ankles.

while one of his hands went back to your hip to hold you in place, the other found its way back to your core, his finger collecting your arousal and moving up to draw small circles around your clit. your eyes fluttered shut at the touch, the pressure building up even more. you tried to move against his finger, but his grip on your hip was so tight you could barely move and you were sure it would leave marks tomorrow.

"j-jaeyun", you softly moaned out his name, which made his pants tighten around his length even more.

"what do you want, baby? gotta use your words", he replied in a sweet, yet demanding tone. just when you opened your mouth to reply, he worked his hand a bit faster, drawing another choked moan from you as your breath got stuck in your throat.

"hmm, maybe this?", he asked, before moving his finger from your clit down to your hole and sliding it in in one go. the back of your head hit the door yet another time as you felt the slight strech. you nodded eagerly when he curled his finger, unable to find the strength to reply to him.

"words", he repeated, this time more demanding. you gulped, trying to collect your thoughts before you replied, "yes, l-like that."

"good girl", jaeyun smiled mischievously, starting to pump his finger in and out at a steady pace and adding a second one once he felt you were ready. you leaned into his touch, your head thrown back against the door, your voice leaving a mixture of moans and his name, as your legs started shaking at how delicously his fingers hit that one spot with each pump.

"so close", you managed to mumble when you felt the knot in your stomach tightening, dangerously close to snap. you clenched around his digits, only to be left with nothing when he pulled his hand away, still keeping the other on your hip to hold you. you opened your eyes in shock, ready to complain, but he was faster.

"sorry, doll, but you i need you to cum around my cock"

© dazzlingjaeyun, 2024. please do not copy.

join my taglist here

[scarlethexelove]

All Hail The Queens

ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: ℚ𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕌𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕝𝕕!𝕎𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕒ℕ𝕒𝕥 𝕩 ℍ𝕦𝕞𝕒𝕟!ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 𝟚𝟞𝟞𝟞

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ℚ𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕌𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕝𝕕!𝕎𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕒ℕ𝕒𝕥 (𝕐𝕖𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕟𝕖𝕖𝕕 𝕒 𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘), 𝕄𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕡𝕦𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 (ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕠𝕖𝕤𝕟'𝕥 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨), 𝕊𝕞𝕦𝕥, 𝔹𝕠𝕟𝕕𝕒𝕘𝕖, 𝕊𝕙𝕚𝕓𝕒𝕣𝕚, 𝕊𝕦𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟, ℂ𝕠𝕔𝕜 𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕘, 𝔸 𝕓𝕚𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕖𝕩𝕙𝕚𝕓𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 (ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 ℂ𝕠𝕔𝕜 𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕕𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒 𝕞𝕖𝕖𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘), 𝔼𝕟𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕒����, ℂ𝕦𝕞 𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕡, 𝕄𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕪!𝕎𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕒, 𝔻𝕒𝕕𝕕𝕪!ℕ𝕒𝕥, ℂ𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕡𝕚𝕖 (𝕀 𝕘𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕤), 𝔸 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕞, 𝔸𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕖.

𝔸/ℕ: ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕨𝕖 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕗𝕗 𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕒𝕕𝕒𝕤𝕤 𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕝𝕕. 𝕀 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕒𝕕𝕞𝕚𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕤 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖𝕝𝕪 𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕒𝕡 𝕓𝕖𝕥𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕗𝕚𝕔𝕤, 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕔𝕖𝕣𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕟𝕝𝕪 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕗𝕚𝕔 𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕗𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪. 𝕀'𝕞 𝕖𝕩𝕔𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕠 𝕞𝕪 𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕤𝕥 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕚𝕥 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕠𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

The only sound that can be heard is your bare feet padding down the hall. The floor is unusually warm but that should be what you would expect while being in the underworld. You wander down the halls looking from room to room to find your Queens. 

You had made a deal with the Queens Wanda and Natasha. If you were unable to fulfill your end of the contract you would be brought down to the underworld. Obviously you did fail at holding up your end. You thought it would be easy but what you didn’t know was that the Queens had other plans. They made it impossible for you to come out successful on the other side. When they saw you they just knew they had to have you in any way possible. Normally fair Queens bent their own rules in order to keep you but you didn’t need to know that part. 

It was difficult at first to accept the women and your new life. But as time passed you began to crave any affection from the women. They would always be glad to give you anything that you wanted, well except for letting you go. The contract you signed bound you to them for eternity, you couldn’t leave even if you wanted to. You tried at first. But now your life seems amazing. You got everything. You have a life that you could never even dream of. 

You finally spot someone in the halls. A lower level demon that serves Wanda and Natasha. “Hi um have you seen Wanda and Natasha?” You ask the girl.. woman. You aren’t quite sure what she is. She looks down, not daring to make eye contact with you. “The Queens are in the meeting room.” She mumbles before rushing away from you. No demon dares to call them anything other than the Queens. It is found to be the utmost disrespect. But now that you know where they are you make haste.

A large black door with intricate carving stands before you. The door is slightly cracked and you can hear the voices of Wanda and Natasha talking in there. Something about an important meeting with higher level demons. You're slightly leaning against the door but you accidentally put too much of your weight on it, which has it swinging open and you falling flat on your face. You let out a groan hearing as two sets of heels click towards you. The heels come into your view and you look up at the women who are now staring down at you. Natasha gives you a pointed look while Wanda’s is a bit more soft. 

Nat crouches down in front of you. “What do you think you’re doing little one?” Her tone is questioning but not too harsh. “I um, I was looking for you both. M’sorry for intruding.” They both share a glance as Wanda crouches down and reaches both of her hands out for you to take. You do so and she helps you stand up. “What would you like sweet girl? We have a very busy meeting starting soon.” You look down out of embarrassment. “Mmm wanted you.” You mumble. Wanda hooks her finger under your chin and makes you look up at her. “What do you want from us?” You let out a whine. “None of that.” Nat tells you sternly. 

“Sweet girl, tell me what you want.” You let out a sigh at Wanda’s words. “I wanted attention.” You mumble. “What was that?” Nat questions you. You know she heard you but she is always going to make you speak up. “I wanted attention and to spend time with you both.” Nat smirks at your words. “Now was that so hard.” You let a grumble of yes, but the women let it slide.

“You can sit in on our meeting under one condition.” Wanda tells you. “Yes, yes, yes I’ll do anything.” Wanda’s lips curl into a smirk. “You’re going to strap warm me sweet girl.” You swallow hard. “I-In front of ev-everyone?” You stutter. “Yes everyone. You want our attention, you have it.” You nod in understanding. Natasha holds out her hand towards you. “Take off your shorts and panties.” You shudder but do as you’re told. Slipping both of them down your legs, wetness already pulling at your core. You place your panties in Nat’s hand knowing exactly what she wanted. Your shorts are discarded somewhere within the room. 

When you turn around Wanda is sitting comfortably in her large chair. Her dress pants already slid down far enough to reveal the scarlet strap attached to her hips. You clench around nothing as you stare at the thich strap. “If you don't want your cute little butt seen by everyone you’re going to want to sit down detka.” Nat pushes you towards Wanda making you stumble slightly but you catch yourself. When you’re close enough Wanda grabs your hips and turns you to face the table. You don’t have time to react as Wanda pulls you down onto her strap. Your walls stretch to accommodate her size. A whimper leaving your lips when you’re fully sheathed onto her cock. “You’re going to watch what Mommy and Daddy do.” Wanda whispers in your ear. You nod not really hearing her as your mind is only on the thought of how full you feel. 

It doesn’t take long before the room starts to fill up. You feel every movement of Wanda’s hips as she shifts in her seat. You bit your lip desperate to keep your noises at bay. You're thankful that they can’t see you from the waist down. You squirm in her lap the longer you sit, Wanda’s nails dig into your hips. “Keep still, little one.” She whispers in your ear again. You let out a whimper but do your best to stop. 

You can’t focus on the meeting as it progresses, your mind turning into a foggy haze. You want more comfort and to hide away from the eyes that keep looking towards you. Or are they looking at Wanda you really don’t know. You lean back a bit and with the shift it has a small moan slipping out. None of the demons dare to stop because they know what the Queens would do to them if they did. 

“Mo-Mommy?” You whimper softly. “Yes sweet girl?” Wanda questions. “Wanna turn around.” Wanda smirks. “Go ahead and do it sweetheart. Mommy isn’t going to stop you.” You let out a soft whine. “But Mommy they will see.” Wanda kisses the side of your head. Your fuzzy mind relishing in the affection. “If you want it you have to do it yourself, Mommy isn’t going to stop her meeting just to tell everyone to look away.” You let out a sigh.

It takes you a few minutes before you get the courage to finally stand up. You notice a prominent wet spot of your juices covering Wanda’s lap. She doesn’t seem to mind as she opens her arms for you. You can feel their eyes burning into your back as you shift to sit back down on her lap, this time facing her. You so easily slide back down onto her strap and bury your head in her neck. Her arms wrap around you as you feel the rumbling of her chest as she begins to speak. 

You nearly fall asleep as the time passes, you don’t even know that everyone is left until you feel Wanda nudging you. “Time to get up sweetheart. Mommy and Daddy have some more work to do.” You let out a whine and hold onto her tighter. “Y/n I said you need to get up.” You shake your head before mumbling out a no. Nat gives Wanda a pointed look. “You wanted our attention that badly? Fine. You can Have it.”

Before you even have time to react before your body is tied up and suspended above the large meeting table, all your clothes are gone. Your legs are bound to your hands that are now stretched behind your back. Soft ropes caress your body, wrapping you up tightly. The ropes that cover your chest, squeeze your breast just right accentuating them more. Nat’s eyes hyper focused on how beautiful you look tied up and hanging. You’re at the mercy of both women. 

“Natty do you think our dumb little baby deserves to cum or do you think we should edge her?” Wanda asks. You feel a finger gliding across the soft skin of your thighs, running up to your ass before Wanda slaps her hand down causing you to cry out. You don’t even know when she made her way onto the table but you don’t dare to question it. She smoothes her hand over your now burning ass. “Hmm.” Nat hums contemplating what you actually deserve. “Though defiant, I want to see her cum until she’s a brainless whore.” Nat smiles as you shudder. 

Wanda leans down and whispers in your ear. “Did you hear that dumb baby? Mommy and Daddy are going to make you cum so much that you won’t even be able to think.” You let out a whimper. Though you wanted attention this wasn’t exactly what you were thinking, but you aren’t mad about it either. 

Nat gracefully steps up on the table and stands in front of you. Her fingers squeeze your chin making you look up at her; your neck in an uncomfortable position. “Such a pretty little slut for us.” You whine as her piercing green eyes stare down at you. She caresses your cheek and you nuzzle her hand. She smiles at you. “I can’t wait to ruin you.” The thought sends a wave of arousal through you. 

Without a warning Wanda has thrust the whole length of her strap back inside your waiting hole. You moan loudly at the feeling of being full again. Wanda wastes no time as she pulls back plunging her strap back into your soaked hole. “Mm fuck!” She moans. “I forgot how good it feels to have your pussy wrapped around my cock.” The joys of being the Queens of the underworld with immense power. Wanda and Natasha know how to enchant their straps to feel everything like it was a piece of their own body. 

Your moans grow louder as Wanda mercilessly pounds into you. Your mouth is hanging open. Natasha is still staring down at you. She smirks with an idea. Your pretty mouth is hanging wide open for her. You watch her as she slowly lets spit drip down from her lips as it falls into your awaiting tongue. “Swallow.” She commands and you do so. “Good girl.” She finally lets go of face and circles around to watch as Wanda fucks you. 

Wanda grips onto the rope pulling you back onto her strap. Your body is being used to get her off. Her grunts and moans fill your ears. Your walls clenching around her the closer you grow to your orgasm and Wanda knows it. “Aww does my dumb little baby want to cum.” You moan and nod your head. “Say it. Tell Mommy how much a whore you are and how you want to cum all over her cock.” Nat’s voice cuts through. It takes you time as Wanda’s relentless thrust continues to fill you. Her hips stutter as she gets close to the edge. “Mmm.. Mmm pl-please Mommy wanna cum. Wan-Want Mommy to fill me. I-I’m Mo-Mommy’s dumb whore. Please! Please! Please!” It takes everything in you to get these words out. They spew out of you as you're so desperate, you don’t know how much longer you can hold it.

“Fuck good girl. Cum all over my cock and Mommy’s going to fill you up.” Wanda grunts. She stills releasing her load into you, painting your walls white with her cum. The feeling sends you over the edge. Your walls clamp down on her length as you cum hard. Your whole body trembles from the force of your orgasm. Wanda rolls her hips into yours prolonging both of your orgasms. When she finally pulls out you can feel as the mix of your cums trickle out of your abused hole. Wanda and Nat admire it, Wanda reaches out using her finger to push it all back in. You squirm in your restraints. Both women breathe out a fuck as they watch. 

You feel a finger tracing your open thighs as Nat moves between your legs. “It’s daddy’s turn now.” She thrust forward and starts a brutal pace. “Ahhh f-fuck!” You moan out. Her grip on your hips is rough as her fingers dig into the flesh sure to leave some marks behind. Nat’s grunts mix with your moans. Your already sensitive and full cunt makes it easy for her to slide in and out. “Fuck you feel so good around Daddy.” You whine as you nod.

Nat continues her fast and rough pace. Tears roll down your cheek at the overwhelming pleasure. Through blurred vision you see Wanda come into view. She cups your cheek in her hand. “Such a good girl for us.” You nuzzle her hand. You can see how her strap glistens with your juices. You wonder why she might still have it on, but that thought is interrupted when Nat gives a particularly hard thrust right into that sweet spot deep inside of you. Your eyes roll back into your head as your body shakes. You’re not able to hold back when Nat hits that spot again. “Daddy!” You cry out as you cum hard on her cock. 

“Fucking whore cumming all over Daddy’s cock. I’ve barely even fucked you yet.” Nat grunts as her pace doesn’t stop. She is getting close you can tell. You whine as you become sensitive from your last orgasm. “Da-Daddy.” You whine but she doesn’t stop. “Daddy’s going to use you detka, let me fill you up just like Mommy did.” You whimper but nod. The pleasure now laced with pain. 

It doesn’t take much longer just a few more thrust for Nat to follow and fill your already leaking cunt with her cum. Your walls are sucking her in for more despite the pain. She presses her finger against your clit which sends you over the edge again. “A-Ahh!” You cry out. Wanda wipes the tears that cascade down your cheeks as a powerful orgasm shoots through you. Your cum spraying out of you covering Nat in your juices. Wanda’s hand on your face and her sweet whispers help ground you as your mind feels like it’s floating. “Shhh Mommy’s got you sweet girl.” 

When Nat finally stops your body goes limp. She pulls out slowly trying not to hurt you but you hiss in pain. “Shh detka you did so good for Mommy and Daddy.” In a flash you’re in Nat’s arms and she is kissing your head. She carries you down the hall into the bedroom you share with them. You're nuzzled into her chest as you feel exhausted. You don’t miss how Wanda stops a servant and tells them they need to clean the meeting room table which has you blushing in embarrassment. Which only causes Nat to chuckle at your cuteness. 

The women get you all cleaned up in a bath that they join you with. Once they are done they help you get dressed and into bed. Nearly the whole time Nat is carrying you around due to your super shaky legs. The important things they needed to get done long forgotten about as they crawl into bed on either side of you. They are the Queens after all and can cancel whatever they please. So they take the rest of the day taking care of you. 

This is the best life you could have ever hoped for. One that will last an eternity with two very beautiful women bound until the end of time.

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　11:50 PM. DEC 31ST, 2024.

matt sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N shows up at Matt's doorstep at 11:50 PM of New Year's Eve, soaked by the rain and ready to confess her love to him.

WARNING: Insecurities (just a bit). Friends to lovers trope.

REQUESTED?: No.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is MY idea and work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: Happy New Year, lovelies! 🤍

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

11:45 PM.

December 31st, 2024.

Y/N had never considered herself one for big gestures. She preferred to deal with her feelings by pretending they didn’t exist, tucking them away in the quiet corners of her heart until they faded on their own. That had been her plan for handling her crush on Matt Sturniolo - ignore it, bury it deep, and wait for it to dissolve into nothing.

But the universe had different plans for her.

Instead of subsiding, her feelings for Matt had only grown. They grew with every laugh they shared, every accidental brush of his hand against hers, and every time he looked at her with those soft, oceanic eyes. It felt like the emotions were slipping out of her control, inch by inch, until tonight, when they completely exploded.

Now, she was walking through the freezing rain, her body trembling as water seeped through her clothes. She had never been more determined - or more terrified - in her life.

The Sturniolos' house was a few doors away, its warm glow spilling onto the wet pavement. It was almost midnight, and she knew the triplets and their parents would be gathered inside, celebrating New Year's Eve together. She didn’t care. She couldn’t wait for a "better" time or a "perfect" moment. Her time was now.

It had started hours earlier when she sat in her room with a notebook, jotting down her resolutions for the new year. She wanted 2025 to be different. She wanted it to be clean, honest, and full of things that truly made her happy. But one glaring thing wasn’t right - her feelings for Matt. She couldn’t go another year pretending she didn’t feel the way she did.

The rain fell down harder, and her breath came out in visible clouds as she approached the front door. The cold was relentless, but it barely registered compared to the storm inside her mind.

Her heart hammered as she pressed the doorbell. She could hear Trevor’s nails clicking on the hardwood floor as he bounded toward the door, his excited barking growing louder.

She smiled.

Of course. Having the triplets' parents in Los Angeles for New Year's had meant Trevor was here too.

Drops of water dripped down her face, mingling with her already damp hair, as she clenched her fists at her sides to stop the trembling. She didn’t know what she’d say when the door opened, but she knew she couldn’t leave without Matt knowing the truth.

The clock ticked closer to midnight.

11:50 PM.

Ten minutes until the new year. Ten minutes to change everything.

The door creaked open, and Matt showed up - not surprising, it was always Matt who got the door; Chris and Nick couldn’t be bothered most of the time. He stood in the doorway, his hand on the knob and his expression soft with curiosity.

Trevor bolted out before Matt could say a word, charging toward Y/N. His wet nose nudged her soaked leg, wagging his tail so hard it shook his whole body.

"Hey, boy." Y/N said softly, her voice trembling from the cold as she crouched down to scratch behind his ears. "I missed you."

Trevor barked once, happily, then turned and bounded back into the house, disappearing up the stairs toward the living room, leaving her alone with Matt.

Matt took a step forward, leaning against the doorframe. His brows knit together as his eyes swept over her, taking in the rain-slicked hair plastered to her face, her damp, trembling figure, and the strange look in her eyes - something between fear and anxiety.

"Y/N?" He asked cautiously, his voice quiet but edged with concern. "Hey, what are you doing here? Are you okay? It's almost midnight."

She wrapped her arms around herself, looking down at the wet ground beneath her feet.

"I know, I'm sorry. I just need to talk to you." She said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll be quick, I promise."

Matt blinked in surprise, his gaze flickering toward the warm glow of the living room. He hesitated for a moment, then looked back at her.

"Okay." He said slowly, though his tone was laced with uncertainty. "But you should come inside. You’re soaked, and it’s freezing out here."

Y/N shook her head quickly, her voice catching as she replied.

"No. I can’t. I don’t even know if you’ll hate me after this, and I... I think it’s better if we stay out here."

Her words and the desperation in her eyes froze Matt in place. He let out a soft sigh, clearly torn, but he nodded.

"Okay." He repeated, his voice low. "Okay, we’ll stay here."

He stepped out fully onto the porch, the rain spilling over the edges of the roof above them. His hands were shoved into his hoodie pocket, and his expression was unreadable as he waited.

Y/N drew in a shaky breath, staring down at her soaked sneakers.

"Um... The first time we met." She began, cringing when her voice faltering slightly. "You completely threw me off guard."

Matt tilted his head slightly, confusion crossing his face, but he didn’t interrupt.

"I had heard so many amazing things about you on the internet." She continued, her words coming out in a rush. "When you and your brothers moved to LA, to my street, I thought I already had this perfect image of who you were. But then I actually met you."

She glanced up at him briefly before quickly looking away, unable to hold his gaze.

"You were more than I ever imagined. You exceeded every expectation I had in my head. You’re... so sweet, Matt. So kind. So human."

Her voice wavered, but she pushed on.

"You take care of people. You’re a gentleman, and you’re so thoughtful, always putting everyone else before yourself. And then we started spending all this time together. At your house, at mine, sleepovers, just... being with you."

Matt’s expression softened, but Y/N kept her eyes fixed on the ground.

"You were always there." She whispered. "And every time you were, you pulled at my heart a little more. You made a home inside it, Matt. You made it warmer. And somewhere along the way, I fell in love with you."

Her cheeks burned despite the cold rain.

"When I realized how I felt, I was terrified. I thought, 'Why would someone like Matt ever feel the same?'"

Matt opened his mouth to speak, but Y/N raised a hand, cutting him off.

"So I hid it." Her voice broke slightly as she added. "I buried it so deep because I couldn’t lose you. I wasn’t ever going to tell you, Matt. I wasn’t. But tonight..."

Y/N took another shaky breath, her fingers trembling as she pushed her damp hair back from her face.

"Tonight." She repeated, her voice quieter now but still steady. "I was sitting in my room, writing down my resolutions for the new year, as I always do, you know that. But then I started thinking about what I wanted for 2025, what I wanted my life to look like, the things I needed to fix, or let go of. And then I realized something." She hesitated, her chest rising and falling as she braced herself. "The one thing I haven’t been honest about with anyone is how I feel about you. And I can’t go into a new year carrying this secret anymore. I just... I can’t."

Matt’s brows knit together as she continued.

"I can’t stop thinking about you, Matt. I think about you all the time. Your laugh, your kind words, the way you’re always so thoughtful. The way you smile at me like I’m the only person in the room. Everything about you, every little piece of you, it’s always on my mind."

Her voice trembled, but she didn’t stop.

"Every time I see something, it reminds me of you. A song, a movie, even the smallest things, like the way the rain smells or the sound of someone laughing across the street. It all brings me back to you. You’re the only thing that never slips my mind, no matter what time of day it is."

Matt’s lips parted slightly, but he stayed silent, his hands still buried in his hoodie pockets as he listened.

"You’re my best friend." Y/N said, her voice breaking slightly. "But I want more. I need more."

Her eyes finally met his, and for a moment, she forgot the rain, the cold, and the fear pounding in her chest.

"I want to be called yours. I want to be seen by your eyes with love, not just as your friend. I want to be held by your hands, kissed by your lips... I want to be yours, Matt."

Tears mingled with the rain on her face as she finished, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"And I'm so sorry for damping all of this on you like that. I know it’s a lot, and I’m probably ruining everything right now. I-I never wanted to mess up our friendship-"

"Y/N-" Matt interrupted, his voice firm but gentle, but she didn’t even hear him, lost in the whirlwind of her thoughts.

"And I don’t want you to feel bad for rejecting it. I know you don’t feel the same way, because why would you? People like you never fall in love with people like me-"

"Y/N."

His voice was louder this time, cutting through her rambling like a sharp blade. She froze, her eyes widening as she finally looked at him.

"Y/N." He said again, softer now, his eyes locking with hers. "You're so silly. People like me fall in love with people like you all the time, actually."

"What?" She whispered, her voice barely audible. Her brows knitted together in confusion, her lips parting as if to say something else, but nothing came out of them.

Matt shook his head, a small, breathy laugh escaping his lips before he leaned in.

His hands found her waist, gripping her soaked shirt as he pulled her closer, and then his lips were on hers. The kiss was everything at once, soft yet intense, hesitant yet confident, warm despite the cold rain pouring down around them.

Y/N gasped softly against his mouth, her hands instinctively reaching up to tangle in his messy hair. His lips were softer than she could’ve ever imagined, moving against hers with a fervor that sent shivers down her spine.

Their mouths opened, their tongues brushing and intertwining in a dance that felt both foreign and natural. The rain mixed with their saliva, the taste of each other blending with the crispness of the winter air.

Matt’s hands tightened on her waist, grounding her as her knees threatened to give way, and her fingers tugged lightly at his hair, earning a quiet groan from him that she felt more than heard.

The world around them seemed to fade away, the cold forgotten as their shared warmth became the only thing that mattered.

And then, like magic, the sound of fireworks exploded in the distance, the vibrant colors illuminating the dark, rain-soaked sky. Cheers and laughter echoed from nearby houses, and Y/N’s mind registered what was happening: midnight.

12:00 AM.

January 1st, 2025.

New Year's Day.

Slowly, they broke apart, their breaths mingling in the space between them as their foreheads rested together. Y/N’s heart was racing, her cheeks flushed despite the chill, and she could see the reflection of the fireworks in Matt’s eyes.

"Happy New Year." He whispered, his voice soft and filled with something she could only describe as love.

She laughed breathlessly, a smile breaking across her face.

"Happy New Year." She replied, her voice light despite the tears still glistening in her eyes.

Matt pulled back slightly, his lips twitching into a small smile.

"So... do you want to come inside now? I think you’ve been out in the rain long enough."

Y/N chuckled, nodding.

"Yeah, I think I do."

He reached for her hand, his fingers warm and steady as they intertwined with hers, and together, they walked inside the house, leaving the cold rain and the past year behind.

[witherby]

punchline, she can’t feel pain or something happens like she breaks an arm or something yet has no reaction or they do a health scan of her and she has some wounds.

-📝

Ok listen. It didn't feel like it was 3600 words when I was writing it. It just happened. Enjoy the feast though.

⚠️ Content Warnings: Broken bones, starvation/malnourishment, flashbacks, description of injuries, the Batfamily accidentally hurts you ⚠️

Punchline: Analgesia

Masterlist is Here!

You got out of the cell.

With no real place to put you, Bruce initiated a round-the-clock watch, both to monitor your health and make sure you didn't try anything dangerous. "Brucie Wayne" decided to go on a last-minute tour of Asia for a month so that he could take more shifts, allowing his sons time to rest and maintain their own lives without needing to stress as much over...

Well. You.

You, who spent the entire first day staring up at the ceiling and clicking your feet together, refusing to respond anymore to Dick or anybody else after telling them your name. You, who ignored your bed long after the time came where most people should be sleeping, then ignored any food and water delivered to you long after most people should be eating and drinking.

You just smile and click your feet. Click. Click. Click. Waiting. Lying still. Staring.

Except now you aren't. Bruce comes back from upstairs with another tray of food for you to find an empty monitor feed on the batcomputer. The bed is too low to the ground for you to hide under, and the privacy curtain isn't drawn to take cover behind. The pressure sensors on the floor don't indicate any signs of life, either — you aren't in there anymore.

He sets the tray down and starts rewinding the footage, panicking, when you click your heels behind him.

"Boo."

Bruce jumps. Honest-to-god flinches. His body moves automatically, leg kicking out and connecting center-mass with a heavy thunk. You go flying across the main area of the cave with a yelp, hitting the ground and rolling a few feet. The sound of your body colliding against smooth stone echoes in a way that it shouldn't, and you don't try to pick yourself up afterwards.

"Shhhit shit shit," he gasps, running over to your limp body and carefully cradling you. He triggers the scanner in his cowl, checking you over for injuries, and gingerly props you up against his chest. "Kid! Are you —"

You snort, shoulders shaking, then build up into a breathtaking cackle. Literally breathtaking — Bruce presses his fingers into your ribs and feels breakage on at least two of them. His lenses find fractures on three more. He needs to get you to the medbay.

"Kid," he says again, urgently, nauseous with guilt. God, you're just a little girl, heartbreakingly small in his arms. "Punchline —"

"I spooked the Bat!" You gasp, eyes welling with tears. Twin lines cut through your face paint, smearing some of the blue under your eyes with the white. It's haunting. You just continue wheeze and gently clap him on the shoulder, genuinely mirthful. "Fear was made fearful! Ohohoho, that's... that's priceless!!"

"I didn't mean to hurt you," Bruce says. You just laugh even harder at that, sharp, short gasps that only exacerbate your wounds and bounce off the cave walls around you in sickening stereo. He wraps one arm around your back and the other behind your knees, lifting you.

"Let's get you cleaned up, kid...you shouldn't be out here."

"I got you gooood, Batsy!" You grin. "Got you! Got you!"

Click. Click. Click. You knock your feet together again, wrapping your arms around his neck with glee.

"Spooked you baaad!"

His grip on you tightens slightly, then relaxes again. Anything he would've wanted to say to you gets trapped behind grit teeth.

--

Dick knocks gently on the door before he types in the code to your cell and watches it slide open. You chuckle, but don't otherwise acknowledge him as he steps inside with another tray of food.

"Yeah. I guess it would seem silly to knock on a see-through door," he says, sitting on the floor next to you. He sits the tray down and presses his back against the wall, lacing his fingers together. "Just trying to be polite, in light of..."

He glances around your bland accommodations and clears his throat.

"Anyway! You were so kind to tell us your name and we didn't even return the favor. I'm Nightwing."

"Wing-a-ding," you murmur, smiling at the ceiling. Click. Click. Click.

"Sure, you can call me that if you want." He uses his foot to gently nudge the tray closer to your supine form, then lowers his voice conspiratorially. "I'll even let you call me a bad word if you eat."

Your smile grows. "Silly Wing-a-ding. It's not mealtime."

"When's Mealtime?" Dick asks you. "Because, you've been with us for two days, kiddo, and you haven't eaten a bite. If you've got a specific diet, it's no trouble. You just have to tell us what you like. We don't want to hurt you."

You snort at that, lifting a hand to pat your stomach. Underneath your lime green shirt are thick bandages compressing your broken ribs. Your gasping giggles ring like broken chimes in the small space you're sharing with him.

Dick frowns. "I'm being honest. B didn't mean to do that to you, I promise. I'm really sorry it happened."

"Sorry? It was hilarious!" You chirp. "Shoulda seen his face. Popsy would have cracked up. Heehee!"

"Yeah..." Dick sighs quietly. "Can we circle back, kiddo? When's your meal time? If you don't try to eat or drink anything soon, we might have to give you some fluids. And I dunno about you, but I'm not a huge fan of needles."

The hand on your stomach drums the same pattern you knock your feet together with. Pat. Pat. Pat. Click. Click. Click.

"It's soon," you tell him simply. "Popsy says to eat when the world turns into a merry-go-round."

The knot of dread sitting in Dick's stomach tightens. He clenches his hands into fists in his lap and keeps his tone light and curious.

"What's the world look like now?"

You laugh. "Fun house mirrors."

"And...when do you get to drink?"

"When the lights start dancing."

Dick doesn't stay in your cell with you much longer, parting with a half-mumbled excuse of needing to go work on something. He hurries down the hallway and tries not to feel like a failure in his suit.

--

Damian wasn't factored in to the rotation, on account of being the youngest and needing to get up for school, but that doesn't stop him from sneaking through the cave to observe you anyway. Years of training in the League keep his steps light and his presence undetectable, until he's standing just out of sight to the door to your cell and able to watch you at an angle.

Your eyes are closed, your body having finally succumbed to exhaustion, and your breathing is slightly wheezy from your injuries. The bits of your arms poking out of your shirt sleeves are mottled black and blue from hitting the floor so hard.

Damian creeps in a tad closer to get a better look at you. Even unconscious, your resting face is a small smile. No doubt a conditioned behavior from your time under the Joker, he thinks.

There's no tension in your body, which is the most interesting thing. Even the severity of the bruises should be enough to cause a twitch or two as you shift on the floor, much less the broken bones, but it's like —

Oh. He needs to make a note in your file and alert the others promptly. As he draws a pad and pen from his pocket, his eyes glance over the simple observations he's already made of you, and stalls.

You're so small. It doesn't hit him until now just how tiny you are, even for your age. You've got the stature of a five or six year old, and there's clear signs of malnourishment in your body. It's hard to look at you and not feel pity.

It's hard to look at you in general. The face paint is slowly wearing away, revealing your natural skin color underneath, but enough of it remains that you look absolutely haunting. Like something designed for a horror movie.

You've refused to clean your face or change into the clothes others have brought you, clinging to the garish getup he and Bruce found you in. The vivid green of your shirt screams of where you came from, an unavoidable beacon that refuses to allow anyone to forget your legacy.

Damian realizes belatedly that that's the point. You aren't looking to separate your identity from your father. You likely can't.

He clenches his hands into fists and takes his leave. He returns to your cell once more that night, dropping his gifts off with reluctance, and sees his effort pay off almost immediately. The next time he catches a glimpse of you, you've freshened up the face paint with a slightly altered design and are wearing a bright green dress, with your typical bowtie and black shoes.

You, awake this time, catch his gaze and beam knowingly.

Damian looks away. Your genuine happiness twists his chest something fierce.

--

You're out of your cell again when it's Jason's turn to monitor you.

"I don't have the patience to deal with your escape artist bullshit," he calls, twirling a baseball bat in his hand as he walks along the caves corridors. "You can either go back to your cage and behave, or get dragged back kicking and screaming."

You giggle. Jason clocks it coming from his right. The bat switches hands and he walks towards the noise.

"This ain't a goddamn game," he says, "so don't get cute with me, kid, or I'll put the Punch in Punchline."

"That's a good one!"

Jason whips around, finding you sitting on the floor with your legs crossed. Today you're wearing a bright green blouse with suspenders and black shorts, always with the bowtie around your neck. You're holding a batarang in your hands, tracing idly over the shape of it with your fingers.

"Wordplay is my favorite! I'll put the Punch in Punchline. Heheha, classic! Now I know why Popsy liked you so much!"

You tilt your head back and cackle. It comes out in sharp, short bursts. It's so bone-chillingly similar to your dad's that it affects him immediately.

Jason blinks. Suddenly he's fifteen and cuffed, cowering before the Joker as he winds his leg back to start kicking him.

Jason blinks again. His arms and legs ache so badly from the repeated bashing of the crowbar. He's been screaming for Bruce for ages and he hasn't come for him yet, why hasn't he come for him, he promised he would always come and get him —

Jason blinks again. He's clawing at the door handle and trying not to cry as the timer counts down behind him, ticking closer and closer and closer to his death, inescapable. He wishes he'd never adopted the mantle. He wants his mom. He wants his dad. He doesn't want to die. He's too young to die. He's so fucking tired.

Jason blinks again. The bat is missing from his hands and his throat feels like it's on fire. Tim is crouched next to you and assessing the new break in your arm courtesy of the Red Hood. The bat is lying broken in half on the floor.

"Go," Tim says, voice flat with barely suppressed rage. He won't turn his head away from you. "Go home, Hood."

"Bye-bye, Birdy," you mutter, smiling at the ceiling, and knock your feet together. Click. Click. Click.

Bye-bye, Birdy!

Jason feels like he can't breathe. The swelling in your skin is already so bad. What has he done? He wasn't actually gonna hurt you, he just wanted to get you back in your cell where you were supposed to be. He has a code against hurting children, he would never do that on purpose no matter whose kid it was. He didn't mean it.

Jesus, fuck, he didn't mean it.

"I-I'm —" he chokes, warped and crackly through the helmet's modulator.

"GO!" Tim shouts.

Jason turns and walks away. After a tense conversation with Bruce, it ends up being his last time monitoring you alone. He doesn't get the chance to do it again for a month, but your serene smile is never far from his mind.

--

Tim takes over Jason's observation duty immediately. He moves you into the med bay again to set and cast your broken arm. You're quiet the entire time, save the clicking of your feet, and refuse to look at him.

He works quickly and efficiently, wrapping you up without issue, and you don't fight him. He comes to the same conclusion Damian did, when he accidentally brushes against another bruise but you don't so much as flex a muscle.

How entertaining it must be for the Joker, to have a child with congenital insensitivity to pain. How simultaneously infuriating, that one of his favorite methods of submission is unavailable.

Tim wants to throw up.

"There," he says. "I'm sorry, Punchline. Hood shouldn't have been left alone to watch you. It won't happen again."

You don't respond. Click. Click. Click.

"Why don't we get you back to your room? I'll find something for you to do so you're not as bored in there. I'm sure Agent A can get you coloring books, or some crafts..."

Again, you're quiet. Tim breathes in slowly, deeply, then lets it back out. He gently takes your hands and coaxes you to stand up, and you go without complaint as he starts walking you back to the containment cells.

Two sets of footsteps fill the silence of the cave's passageways. One set of lungs struggles to match pace. Tim slows down for you, and the wheezing quiets immediately.

"Do you need or want anything?" He asks. The same, easy smile on your face doesn't change. You walk beside him like he isn't even there. He has to try exceptionally hard not to take it personally, even though it is and he knows it. He knows what you've endured. He knows what you've gone through. He can make a damn good guess as to what you're thinking right now.

And he doesn't have the faintest clue where to start fixing it.

Tim was only under the Joker's clutches for a couple days, at most, and the brainwashing he underwent to become Joker Junior still haunts his nightmares to this day. The conditioning, the bargaining, learning the boundaries, the underlying fear of having to say the right thing, do the right thing, the obsessive need to earn his favor, he remembers it all. Even years later, seeing the Joker makes that sickly itch start up under his skin.

Maybe he's wrong. Maybe he doesn't know how you feel, because he only got the tip of the iceberg. Maybe your experiences are better. Or worse. Most certainly different. He doesn't know, and he hates not knowing things.

When you make it back to the cell, you walk in without complaint. Tim closes the door and keys in a new code to lock it, though he suspects you'll be able to crack it again soon enough. You've got nothing but time on your hands to play with the access pad.

He drops his hand when he's done, staring at you. You're back to lying on the floor in your original position, arms splayed and feet clicking together as you admire the ceiling. He opens his mouth, then closes it. Hesitates. Does it again. You just click your feet.

"Punchline. I'm sorry."

You blink slowly, mouth twitching like you've heard something funny but don't quite wanna laugh.

"If I knew, back then," he says, words stilted and strained. Tim nearly stops there, but he feels compelled to let you know. "If I knew that leaving him would've ended in him doing this to another child...I wouldn't have gone anywhere."

You stop clicking your feet. Your mouth curls into a grin, then thins out, then gets stuck in this uncomfortable half-smirk.

"Popsy misses JJ," you mutter, so quiet Tim only catches it because he's right next to the cell door. There's something sharp in your tone. "He was almost perfect. His first favorite toy."

Tim feels like he's been dunked in a tub of ice. The tips of his fingers go numb and he has to press a hand to his mouth while suppressing a gag. His eyes are stinging behind the domino mask.

"JJ ran away. JJ is a traitor. Popsy has a new favorite, now," you whisper. Click. Click. Click. "Wonder how long that will last." Click. Click. Click. "Wonder how long I'll be his favorite Punchline." Click. Click. Click.

"I'm gonna go talk to A, now," Tim says, stumbling away from you. The both of you feel more relieved the farther away he gets.

Click. Click. Click.

--

Alfred takes shifts for you when no one else is available. He doesn't do it at the computer, though; the screens are too bright for his aging eyes, and the chair isn't ergonomic enough for him.

So he watches you from within the cell.

"Good afternoon, Lady Punchline, my name is Alfred Pennyworth," he greets politely, setting a tray of soup and saltines next to your head. He steps carefully over your body on the floor and perches on the edge of your unused bed, crossing one leg over the other. "The time is just after one o'clock. Today I've prepared a simple miso soup, something light for your decidedly neglected stomach, and brought with me several activities we could partake in, either together or separate. The choice is yours."

He eases the tote bag he brought in off his shoulder and pulls out a series of items: A stuffed bear, which he perches on top of the pillow. A coloring book and a pack of crayons. A jigsaw puzzle. And several books.

"Might any of these appeal to the lady?" He asks.

Click. Click. Click.

"That's alright," he says, as though you gave him any kind of acknowledgement. "I will leave them here for you to explore at your leisure, and come back with more options the next we meet."

He pulls a novel for himself out of the bottom of the bag, gently flipping its weathered pages open, and settles it in his lap.

"Would it bother you too terribly if I read this aloud? You may stop me anytime, of course." You make no expression and take no action against him, so he looks down at the book. "Very well. This story is one of my favorites, so I'm interested to see if you find any enjoyment in it, too.

"When Mary Lennox was sent to Misselthwaite Manor to live with her uncle everybody said she was the most disagreeable-looking child ever seen. It was true, too. She had a little thin face and a little thin body, thin light hair and a sour expression..."

Alfred keeps his voice calm, clear, and steady. There are mild changes in intonation when he speaks for the characters in the book, but other than that, he lets the words wash over the room peacefully. He stays with you and reads for several hours, until he reluctantly excuses himself to tend to his other duties for the manor.

"I shall mark our place in the book and bring it back if you'd like to hear more," he says, stepping past you again. "If you've any other requests, please let myself or the others know. We shall be happy to accommodate you, Lady Punchline."

When he closes and locks the cell door, he almost startles at your soft voice.

"Mistress Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow?" You mumble. The smile on your face seems a touch more genuine than before he entered.

Alfred dismisses himself with a final, quick bow, then walks down the halls as Bruce comes back to relieve him. Before the man even gets the chance to speak, Alfred holds a palm up to quiet him.

"I should like to have you place me in regular rotations with our guest," he says. "We have a lot of work to do if we're to rehabilitate the poor girl, and we'll get nowhere if everyone chooses to observe her like an animal in the zoo."

"That's fine, but —" Bruce says, watching almost helplessly as Alfred walks right past him. "Agent A —"

"I shall also request a home visit with Doctor Thompkins to sort out a proper treatment plan for her Analgesia, malnutrition, and very likely no vaccinations. Afterwards, we'll need to start considering educational deficits and behavioral therapy. There's much to do, master Bruce, so pick your jaw up off the floor and go spend time with your newest ward."

Bruce watches him disappear with fond irritation. He pulls the cowl off, understanding there's likely no need to maintain secrecy anyway, if you're going to be here for the long haul.

[kimetsu-no-yaiba-writings]

Hi! If youre still doing requests, i have kind of an odd ask , but maybe some of the upper moons' reactions to meeting Muzan's wife (reader). I also really like whipped!Muzan so maybe the other demons' reactions to seeing the demon king doting on his wife. Thank you very much :)

Hi Anon! (^○^.) I actually love this request, so thank you for sliding it into my askbox ♥

Honestly I love a powerful man - especially a powerful villain - who's just absolutely in love with their wife (♥ω♥.) and would do anything for them, it just brings me joy.

Anyway! I'm rambling abit, but here is your request! I hope I've done it justice (^ω^.) Please enjoy!

Come again to request whenever you want cause I'm always open.

Muzan Kibutsuji being whipped for his wife + Upper Moons Reactions - Headcannons:

You know those types of men that are just unmovable pillars of stone - who look like they were carved from the finest marble by the hands of angels - who are always impeccably dressed with a voice of icy poison and just command your attention?

Who turn to the softest love-struck mush when with their wife

yeah, that's Muzan Kibutsuji with his wife (aka. you)

The finest meals, clothes and jewelry are yours with a click of his fingers - all done to make you happy, to see you smile

Anything that you mention briefly - doesn't matter if it''s a book or a holiday - its yours by the end of the day

Just one smile and a fluttering of your eyelashes has muzan on his knees - a singular pout of your lips has his mind running wild

You just have to breathe and Muzan's heart squeezes, breath stuttering in his chest as he looks at you in adoration

You could ask for the world and he'd give it too you on a platter

Muzan worships you

Each touch from you is a blessing to his skin

Each kiss sealed into him

Each word of love that falls from your lips make him drunk to hear, each sentence thick with a love that leaves hearts in his eyes and his heart thumping wildly

He wants to wear you like a brand - each mark you leave on him (bite marks and all) are worn with pride - and you (and only you) get to touch and mark his skin in such sensual ways

Under his wedding ring, his finger holds your bite mark, something that he begs you to do each day - with love-struck tears pricking his eyes - and it always makes him feel like he's properly yours

"My Love," He purrs with a voice a think velvet "My wonderful wife, my moon and stars, I love you for ever and always" and he kisses you so softly

Sometimes you have to stop this man from wearing matching clothes with you - "But Beloved,"he whimpers with a face liked a kicked puppy "I want us to match" - because he will absolutely wear a matching couples outfit

Other days he just likes sharing the same colour palette

When you worship him by placing soft kisses to his skin - his wrists, knuckles and faces - Muzan feels like he's on cloud nine

Upper Moons Reactions:

When the upper moons first met you, it was by accident - pure accident -they'd been summoned and it just so happened that it was when muzan was just in the midst of kissing you and bathing you with compliments

Kokushibou doesn't even blink and just stands in position like a trained guard, this sight has been something he's accidentally stumbled upon a couple of times before and honestly it makes him miss his wife

Because this isn't the first time he's met you but rather the fifth, the first actually time he met you, you were incredibly respectful of him and actually treat him nicely - you became tea drinking buddies - so he quickly came to like you

Douma/Doma genuinely shrieks - like an honest to god scream - before quickly going to make fun (not a good idea) about how loving Muzan is and, "Why don't you treat us this way Muzan-sama~ You're breaking my heart~"

Akaza looks away from such an intimate scene with respect since it felt wrong to look upon his lord loving his wife - although his heart does ache for some reason when looking at such a perfect loving scene

Hantengu starts sobbing while apologizing anxiously - actually very jealous at how loving the scene is, he wants a wife and to dote on someone

Gyokko simply proclaims it as artful and simply leaves it as such

Daki Blushes a deep crimson - it makes her want a husband to dote on her so much

While Gyutaro simply sighs before looking away - much like kokushibou and akaza in respect - with jealous crawling up his ribs at such love, he wants somebody to dote on and love him so romantically

[reiderwriter]

🔐 Password Protected 🔐

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Requested: "Hii Kacie, may I put in a request of a NSFW prompt? Any plotline or back story is fine I trust your talent :"> Reader's boobs/asscheeks recoill during sex turning Spencer on even more "I wish you could have my view right now" he grabs the phone to open the camera app."

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, DubCon Hidden camera, dry humping, free use, soft to hard Dom!Spencer, sub! Reader, creampie, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, implied oral sex, implied bondage, implied somno, pictures/ photos, degradation (slut, whore etc,) and pet names (Princess, sir, angel etc,), nipple play/torture, multiple orgasms.

A/N: Here's my second fic for the CM Kink Bingo 2024~♡ I'm definitely all over the board now, so who knows if I'I hit bingo this year, Imao? Anyways, I hope you enjoy~ And to my dear friend :"^ anon - thank you for your inspiring request.

Masterlist || Bingo Board

With a glorious lull in cases to close over the summer, the biggest mystery in the BAU was “What's in the locked folder on Spencer's phone?” 

The man had made the (technologically inept) mistake of leaving his new phone unlocked on his desk in a bullpen full of criminal profilers. To say you'd all descended like vultures to a fresh carcass was putting it extremely lightly.

“What apps does he have? Five dollars says there's a dictionary app,” Emily joked, leaning over Morgan's shoulder to try and catch a glimpse of the screen. You were similarly perched at his other shoulder. 

“He can probably recite the dictionary himself, and I don't think he'd know how to download apps,” you scoffed, scrolling up in the phone yourself to the app page. 

“There's got to be something good in the camera roll, right?” Morgan said, clicking into it to find some dirt on the much too innocent Spencer Reid. Which is where you'd found quaint pictures of the sky, some pages from a book and the folder. 

The one with a little lock on it signalling the boundary. Spencer had figured out how to use a locked folder - you'd be impressed if you weren't so curious about what was inside. 

“Placing bets, people? My money is on work documents,” Morgan chuckled, losing interest swiftly in the phone and pressing it into your hands. “It's not like the kid has a lot going on romantically, right?”

You kept your mouth shut as the others nodded in agreement. While Spencer Reid may not have anything romantic going on officially, he definitely had something sexual going on. You'd been in his bed five of the last six days, losing count on the amount of times he'd fucked you into oblivion, using your body as freely as he wished, cumming inside of you to finish before washing off all traces of your coupling and cuddling upto you as you slept. 

It wasn't quite a relationship, but dear god, did you never want it to end. You hadn't been so satisfied, so fulfilled (emphasis on the filled) in a long time. 

“What are you doing with my phone?” You heard Spencer question from behind you, and you turned, trying to mask your embarrassment. You really didn't want him to think you were some obsessive not-girlfriend going through his messages, and almost dropped the phone like it was a bomb when your eyes met his. 

“We were just debating what you could possibly have to hide in your gallery’s locked folder,” Emily laughed, clapping the man on the back and smiling up at him. “Help me win $20 and tell Morgan here that you made it accidentally and don't know the password.” 

“Hey, I didn't agree to any bet yet,” Morgan laughed, kicking his feet up on his desk. 

“Only because you know you're wrong.” 

They bickered just long enough to let Spencer take a step closer to you, slipping the phone easily out of your hand and back into his pocket. His voice was low, his mouth close to his ear when he finally sated your curiosity. 

“I think you may want to distract them from this topic, Y/N. I don't think you'll like it if they demand to see what kind of pictures and…videos I have in that folder.” 

His tone wasn't suggestive, but it still lit a fire in your belly with the implication alone. You'd warmed his bed for long enough to know that you were the only one sharing it, but you didn't remember him taking any pictures or videos of you. Shit, had you been so desperate that you'd completely blanked him capturing a folders worth of images of you servicing his cock? 

You took the hunt and stepped away from him, picking up a file quickly and glancing over it before turning to Emily. Distracting them with work was the only way to keep them off the scent and distract you must.

Even if it did mean you were inconvenienced with curiosity and lust for the rest of the day. 

When you finally finished work, you practically hammered down Spencer's door, trying to get answers to questions he'd left hung in the air earlier. You were a visual learner, so you dearly hoped he'd answer by simply just showing you what you'd missed. 

“Y/N,” he said, opening the door with a sweet smile, drawing you into the apartment with a slow, honeyed kiss. You felt him smile into you, his touch chaste enough around your arms to still your beating heart. You languished in the kiss as he pulled you on closer, shutting the door behind you as he opened you up to him, pulling you further under his spell than usual. 

“I'm so happy to see you,” he said once he'd pulled away, feathering his touch across your waist, settling his hands in the crook just under your breasts, stroking the bottom of them with his thumbs. You were suddenly glad the man's hands were so large, sure that this one interaction was heaven on earth. 

He almost distracted you from your purpose for coming here. 

Pulling you to the sofa in his living room, Spencer pushed back a strand of hair, hooking it behind your ear as he let you straddle him  wrapping your arms around his neck, your head falling comfortably onto his shoulder as you inhaled his scent. 

“I'm not complaining that you're here, or anything, Y/N,” he said, hands roaming your body and stroking your ass as he spoke. “But did you have something to say? You didn't message before coming.” 

You lifted your head to look him in the eyes before looking away out of embarrassment. 

“Earlier, you…” you started, tongue going dry as he tightened his grip on your ass. He shifted slightly under you and you realized he was grinding his leg up into your clothed pussy as you spoke. 

“Yes?” 

“Your phone…the locked folder, I want to see what's inside.” 

You were sure that he knew already what you wanted before you'd even arrived, but he just smiled at you again, almost too kindly. 

“That's my private business, Y/N. Why should I let you see it?” He asked, looking good a finger under your jaw to make you look him in the eye once more. 

“I th-think… I think there are videos. Of me. I'd like to see them.” 

“Where are your manners?” 

“Please, sir,” you whispered, tipping your head forward, begging him for a kiss. “Please show me the videos.” 

He huffed out a quick laugh and gave you one last peck on the lips before he pushed you off. You sat on the floor between his legs, a position you were so used to being in by now that you wouldn't be surprised to find multiple shots of you sat like this, lips wrapped around his cock, pussy grinding on his shoes. Even the thought of such pictures had you wanting to recreate those memories, you weren't sure what a folder worth is going to do. 

Stretching over to his coffee table, Spencer picked up the discarded phone and unlocked it, flipping through some pages before looking down at you again. 

Stroking your hair, Spencer neatly arranged it before wrapping the same hand he'd been using g around your neck and pulling you gently upwards. You landed back in his lap, but he'd turned you around this time. Instead of straddling him, your back was pressed to his chest, your legs on either side of one of his. He released your neck, instead pushing his hands between your thighs so you couldn't push them together for relief - he already knew your body so well. 

“Is this what you're curious about, Y/N?” He said, finally flashing you the phone screen. The first picture was obviously taken post-sex, and you recognised his bed sheets quickly. Your face hung off the end of his bed, eyes shut as his cum painted your lips, cheeks and eyes, lips parted in a lusty moan. From the angle it was taken at, you could see your breasts swell and your hand disappear between your legs as well, stroking yourself to release.

“Shit,” you moaned, pussy clenching on nothing as it begged for relief. With a hand on your hip, Spencer started encouraging you to rock back and forward, humping his leg as he whispered in your ear. 

“You didn't know about that one because your eyes were covered in my cum. It turned me on more knowing you had no clue I was going to jack off to it later as well.” 

He scrolled to the next image, and in this one too, you seemed unaware of the camera. Your hands were tied to the headboard, and he was fucking you from behind, the shot capturing his creamy dick pulling out of you and the discarded condom on the bed beside you. 

“That was the day we learned how much more you enjoyed being filled with cum than you enjoyed condoms,” he said, scrolling to the next picture. 

“And here's your first creampie,” he said, his spare hand pushing under your shirt, fingers clamping down on one nipple as you shuddered. 

Your pace was faster now, desperately thrusting up and down his thigh. Even through your skirt and panties, you felt your wetness against his pants, knowing you'd be punished later for such unladylike behaviour. 

As if Spencer had ever wanted you to act like a lady. He knew you were a slut and he enjoyed it. 

“The next one is a video,” he said, moving his hand to your other breast and slapping it as you moaned above him. “Do you think you can handle it?” 

“Y-Yes, Sir. Please let me see it, sir.” 

“Okay, but not a fucking noise out of you. I want to hear your screams from the video.” 

You could only silently groan in reply, nodding quickly as he scrolled and pressed play. 

This one was recent, maybe one or two nights ago. You recognised the outfit you'd partially discarded, the shirt that had been ripped open. 

How had you possibly not seen the camera pointed straight at you? 

In the video, his cock was pressed into you, fucking you at a pace most would call violent  but you called heavenly. The focus wasn't on your pussy taking his cock, though, but on your boobs, recoiling and jumping with every thrust. His other hand pressed to your stomach, feeling himself sheathed there, as you moaned desperately. 

“Spen…Spen-sher,” you tripped over your tongue, slurring the words as if you'd been drugged. Your eyelids were heavy, eyes practically rolling back in your head as his hand on your stomach tightened. 

“I think I fucked your brain out, baby,” he laughed deeply, cock not relenting even one second. 

“Your tits looked so perfect,” the Spencer of the present said, pressing the phone into your hand as he grabbed each nipple and tugged them forward, leaving you gasping. 

“And you didn't even realize I was filming it all. I could've done anything to you, anything at all, and you wouldn't have cared. You'd have enjoyed it, and I'd have had the proof.” 

You were soaked now, humping deliriously against his thigh, like a puppy experiencing their first heat, desperate for this feeling to go away and for it to stay and intensify all the same. 

“You were acting so stupid. At one point, I even got you to say hello to the camera, and you didn't remember a thing an hour later.” 

Releasing one breast, he swiped one more time to the left, and you saw the beginning of another video. 

Hitting the play button, his hands returned to your chest, this time pushing up your top and bra and freely clamping down on the nipples as hard as he could. 

What intrigued you the most about this last video was the start. Unlike the pictures and the videos, you weren't in the middle of sex at the beginning of this video at all. 

You were instead laid with your back to the camera - to Spencer - a leg thrown over some unfamiliar sheets. This wasn't his bed. This wasn't yours either. 

Another minute of grinding against his leg, and you recognised the motel room from your last case. 

“Spencer, wh-” 

“Watch and see, princess.” 

The bed creaked under his weight as he climbed in behind you, removing the duvet covers from your body, replacing it with his hands. He made similarly swift work of your pajamas, only bothering to push them down to your knees before pulling out his cock and slowly pushing into you. 

If you weren't so close to another orgasm, you'd probably be shocked that Spencer had invaded your personal space and started fucking you as you slept. But that's what it meant to be his little free use slut. You allowed him access to you anywhere, anytime (including the motel room you'd given him the spare key for) and in return he dropped as many loads of his cum into your pussy as would fit there. 

Watching yourself get violated in your sleep was the last of what you needed to push over the edge. 

You grabbed Spencer's arm, gasping, and you felt him trail kisses along your neck and shoulders. 

“That's it, baby, just hold on a second while I…” he pulled the phone out of your grasp, opening yet another familiar looking app. 

You looked at the screen and found your own bare chest heaving staring back at you. He clicked the red button and forced it back into your hands as he began abusing your tits again. 

“Show the camera, Y/N. Show them how you get yourself off on my leg.” 

You complied, lifting the phone slightly to get the best view of your chest, heaving up and down as you humped his thigh into oblivion. 

Your cunt twitched and you felt fluids rushing out of you, even as your arms trembled. But you didn't let them falter  holding g up the phone to capture every second of your climax, knowing its exactly what he would want. 

“You're perfect, you know that Y/N,” he said, finally kissing the top of your head and pulling the phone out of your grasp as he saved the video into the file you'd been browsing. 

His gentleness was short-lived, though, as he pushed you off his lap and back to the floor. As you caught your breath, ass up on the floor, he took the opportunity to slip his dick out of his pants, and began stroking it up and down, inspecting your pussy with his free fingers. 

“I'll give you five seconds to get ready for the next round,” he said, and you panicked, lifting your legs off the floor. You weren't strong enough, though, or maybe you just didn't want to move. He kept counting down. 

“4….3….2…1,” you heard the predatory grin in his voice as he pushed his foot onto your head, holding your cheek to the floor with one leg. 

“As you wish then, my little slut.” He moved his foot away quickly and pushed inside of you, and your last coherent thought was of the folder again, and how long he'd make you wait to see the video you were about to shoot. 

[nejiverse]

NOT SO NONCHALANT

Ryomen Sukuna

cw: like two swear words, pregnant reader, mean (ish) sukuna

812 words

Sukuna currently had his elbow against his pillow, his hand propping his head up and he stared up at his lover who sat up cross-legged on the bed, mind you, it was 3am.

"What the hell is your problem?", he inquired. It was a justified question. What sane person sits up in bed in the dead of night and stares into space??

"I'm thinking", she responded, a hand on her chin in deep thought and her eyes narrowing in concentration.

Sukuna let out an exasperated sigh. "Maybe I shouldn't have gotten you pregnant 'cause clearly it's turning you into a mad woman", he turned to the other side and opted to go back to sleep. Maybe if he ignored her she would follow suit.

But no. This was a five month pregnant lady who wouldn't rest until she gets what she wants.

"I'm hungry Ryo".

Sukuna scoffed a laugh. "What's new?", he pulled the covers higher. "You can eat whatever you want in your dreams...so sleep", he ordered.

Y/n gasped, crawling over to his side and shaking his shoulder. "What do you mean 'what's new?'".

Sukuna rolled his eyes, unfazed by her actions. He wouldn't be surprised if she started crying any second now.

"That's so mean Ryo!", she wailed, slapping his arm yet doing absolutely no damage whatsoever.

Sukuna's eyebrow twitched involuntarily. "What did I say about calling me that?", he grumbled. It made his heart feel all funny and he didn't like it one bit.

The woman moved to straddle the king of curses, a heavy frown etched on her lips. "I want barbecue".

There it was, those damn eyes. The expression that Sukuna could never say no to which annoyed him. He pursed his lips, averting his eyes as a rough hand lifted her off of him with ease. "You want me to cater your cravings like some servant?", he clicked his tongue. "If that was meant to be a joke, i'm not laughing. Goodnight".

Y/n let out a drawled out whine, hovering over his body so she could see his face. "Pleaseeeeee Ryo!!".

"Fuck no".

She huffed, finally giving up. Sukuna felt the bed rise a bit, signalling that she had gotten up. "Fine. I'll just do it myself".

A smirk grew on Sukuna's lips. Surely she was joking right? She would simply walk out for a few minutes then come back in. It wasn't like she knew how to work the damn thing anyway.

Still, Sukuna couldn't go back to sleep. He could only think about her. What if she hurt herself trying to work the barbecue or something?

He rolled his eyes. It wasn't his problem.

So why did he jolt up immediately when he heard a loud crash? He wasn't sure but his body started moving before his brain could even process what he was doing.

"Damn woman," he muttered, throwing the blanket off himself and storming out of the room. The chill of the night air seeped through the hallway as he moved quickly, his mind racing with scenarios he'd never admit he was worried about. He wasn't the type to care, not really—at least, that's what he kept telling himself.

"What did you do?", he noticed how she was shaking her fingers in the air, clearly looking for some relief for her aching digits.

"I accidentally closed the cover on my fingers..", she said in a small voice.

Sukuna stood for a moment until he went back inside, soaking a cloth in cold water and wringing out the excess before quickly going back out.

"You're an idiot", he grabbed her wrist and wrapped the cold cloth around her index and middle fingers. "And I just know that baby's tired of your ass, you never sit still".

Y/n giggled at his remark, smiling up at the king of curses who raised a brow. "What're you smiling at?".

"You care", she said simply.

"Tch. Whatever", he rolled his eyes for the nth time that night as he opened the barbecue.

Y/n's face lighted up. "Are you actually doing it? You're so sweet Ryomen!", she approached him, arms wrapping around his bicep, making sure the cloth doesn't slip from her grasp.

Sukuna furrowed his brow."Sit", he pointed to the chair to the side.

Y/n pouted. "I wanna watch you!".

"Do you want fat fucking feet again?".

She wasn't gonna tell him that standing up wasn't the main reason her feet swell. She would simply take in the fact that he truly did care for her wellbeing.

But one thing was for sure. That night, Sukuna had lost the idgaf war.

a/n: Help i haven’t written on here since July LOL ive been writing on wattpad, but requests are open!!

masterlist :)

[cute-sucker]

note: this is a continuation of ex-husband rafe headcannons !! please send requests about this relationship! would love to write more about this <3

˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.

rafe cameron being your ex-husband made nothing easier and you hated every bit of it, specifically when you started to date again. it was like alarms went off in his head, as he started to show up more. you hadn't told anyone about dating anyone, but your therapist had recommended it.

she'd eased you into it, telling you maybe it was time to put yourself out there into the market. you had shook you head, and laughed at the suggestion, who would want you? a single mother with a obsessive ex-husband. but then suddenly you started to consider it. there was nothing wrong with it, so you accidentally brought it up to rafe.

you had been a bit tipsy, after downing a few fruity cocktail at rafe's work party. you still went to them even though the two of you weren't married. you tried not to notice the way rafe was still wearing the golden band around his neck, and the way his hand travelled to the low part of your back.

"hi," you whispered to him, leaning on him. he looked surprised, of course he was, anytime you saw him you were either scolding or glaring at him, and for you to be giving him your prettiest bright smile? that was something.

"hi sweets," he replied back softly adjusting your dress before dropping his gaze to your lips, and quickly back to your eyes. "what's on that pretty mind?"

you giggled, feeling happy as you looked up to him, "i think i'm going to start dating again. i think it will be good for me, what do you think rafe?" you asked him, before sipping your drink again.

you missed the way that rafe's eyes narrowed at your confession or the way his arms got tighter around your waist, hand going up to touch his nose. yet you felt a little uncomfortable, as you tried to wiggle away from his tight arms.

"yea? what gave you that idea?" he asked you quietly, yet his words felt razor sharp as he gritted his teeth, "who put that silly idea in your head?"

here you frowned, absentmindedly twirling your straw in your pink glass, "um," you started feeling your throat clogg up, "i don't know i thought-? why you think i'm not pretty enough? that i'm ugly now that i've had a baby."

"no, of course now sweets. but i just think it's a bad idea," he said biting his lip, tilting his head in that innocent way. it grated on you, and you rolled your eyes and you felt yourself sober up.

"fuck you cameron. fuck you," you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes, before sniffling and you shoving your drink into his hands.

you tried to forget that. after all the both of you pretended it never happened, practically tip toing after one and other. he still came around once and while, trying to be sweet on you before you muttered something with an annoyed expression to get him off you.

and for a while you didn't see him, untill the day you were going on a date. you had a pretty dress on, dangly earings and a diamond necklace. all dolled up, you absentmindedly hummed under your breath feeling a bit nervous, only to hear the front door click open.

there he was. rafe cameron staring at you as you were making your breakfast. he quickly made away to put his arms around your waist, taking a deep breath of your perfume. "you smell good. all of that for me?" he teased, and you made an uncommitted hum.

"hey baby," he said to your baby girl with an easy smile, winking at your little girl who ran into his arms.

"aww you've grown, haven't ya?" rafe cooed to your little girl who jumped nodding furiously. she was holding some flowers in her hand, and had little pigtails. then she told him she had to show him how high she could jump, and he nodded raising his eyebrows in interest, but you didn't miss the way he scanned you and your party dress.

you wanted to give him a dirty look, but when he made your daughter happy like that there was nothing you could do but smile under your breath hoping that he wouldn't notice. you continued to prepare the pancakes, licking the chocolate batter and tossing in a few blueberries.

finally, he seemed to pluck up the courage to ask you. you felt your body tense up feeling anxious.

"where are you going?" he asked softly, eyes watching you move in the kitchen, "you look too pretty to just be dressed up." you closed your eyes, letting out a tired sigh. you could almost feel your throat clog up as you balled up your fists.

you had to tell him. couldn't lie, because rafe cameron would figure out anything he wanted. there was a reason he was a good business man it was because he continued to go for what he wanted leaving other things in the process.

"i have a date today," you said slowly, sprinkling powdered sugar on the warm pancakes, and before he could open his mouth you quickly started to speak again, "daisy, come in sweetie! breakfast is ready."

the look he gave you told you things were not done.

˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚

"so who's the guy?" he asks you with a measured look, and you try to ignore the way he's gritting his jaw, and the way he's eying you in that predatory way.

you sighed, putting away your plates. daisy is gone playing with the new toy that daddy got for her. how convenient, you thought, it was almost as if what was going to happen. as if he had planned this all.

"just a random guy."

"lucky guy."

"alright, rafe, just say it!" you hissed out, spinning to look him the eye. "just say what you came for."

rafe closed his eyes, running a hand over his hair, "listen. if it was up to me you would live with me, we'd still be married, and there wouldn't be a random guy!"

"well good thing it's not up to you then huh?" you spat back, pointing an accusiatory finger to his chest, "you made a decision when we were married. you. not me. you were gone for nights and nights for work, it felt as if i was drowning and, you screwed this up."

"you think i don't know that?" rafe muttered back, throwing his hands in the air, "you think i don't wake up every day knowing i lost the best woman in my life."

you felt tears well up in your eyes, "no, you can't say that. you can't say something like that. not after everything."

"fine. have fun in with your date."

and then he's gone again leaving you with your shattered heart.

˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚

rafe cameron being your ex-husband made nothing easier yet when you came back that night crying over the phone, telling him how he screwed up everything for you, he still picked up. he came over, nursing you back to health, his soothing warm hands on your back as you sobbed into his chest.

the two of you stay like that, a parallel of what could have been.

taglist: @bouearis , @kys4-20 , @rafeecameronsbitch , @mrsbarnesblog , @slytherins-heir