#the struggle of having to hold your own hands on place. remembering how they look like and then drawing from memory (the right hand at least

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 3

I'm on a roll- don't expect it to last :)) but as of right now, Chapter 4 is done, Chapter 5 will be started, and I feel like each one will be longer and longer than the last- hope ch4 was just a one in a trillion thing

First || previous<< Chapter 3 >>next

Sleeping that night seemed to be a struggle on its own, nightmares plaguing your mind left and right. You’d fall asleep for 30 minutes and wake up, fall asleep for another 30 minutes and wake up again, and again, and again, giving up once you woke up at 03:33 am. No use in trying to sleep if you’re just going to wake up crying and gasping for air, heart pumping so hard you could hear the blood running through your veins.

You needed air, wanted something less stuffing than the four walls that seemed to close in around your shaking form. With bare feet, you made your way across the manor towards the garden. May as well try and do something productive.

The garden was loved and taken care of, once upon a time. The plants were dead, the trees dried beyond help, and the dirt may need to be changed as well if the roots have gone putrid and rotten, just to be sure. It’ll take years to bring the space to its glory, to how it looked in the painting, but you could feel it in your bones that it will be worth it.

Diverting your attention from the nightmares to the garden helped ease the shaking, the fear. The more you thought about the nightmares, the more you didn’t know which one scared you the most. Between relieving your mom’s death, accepting she was dead, that you’ll never see her again, that you didn’t even know where they buried her- and seeing Bruce as the one holding the gun, firing it at your mom, at you, and then laughing with glee, saying something you didn’t quite remember…  You couldn’t decide which one you hated the most.

Your eyes trailed the walls of the manor, up to the roof, and back down. You wanted to call him dad, hug him, have him come to your recitals and activities, and have him love you like Officer Gordon said he would. And yet, no matter how close he seemed to you, he was farther away than the moon. You hoped it was just your awkward self, that maybe your anxieties were putting ideas where there shouldn’t be any. Today’s breakfast only seemed to fortify said anxieties.

“When will I go back to school?” The question fell from your lips so quietly, and the silence it created made you sink into yourself. Bruce’s eyes had been glancing at you non-stop, but now they were fixated on you, non-blinking. He hummed, low and thoughtful. “You’ll be moved to online schooling. After what happened to your mom, I feel it will be safer for you to stay inside the manor for a while”

“For forever.” The shadows hissed in his ear, but Bruce simply cleared his throat, checked his watch, and left, Richard following soon after at the man’s nudging. Bruce will drive Dick to school. Your eyes remained on your plate as they left, remaining quiet for a while.

“Mama said I should make friends.” Your teary eyes met Alfred’s again as your lip trembled. “How will I make friends if I can’t go outside?” The older man’s hands were rubbing together behind his back. He felt as inexperienced as when Bruce was a toddler, as unsure of what to do as when he was with his father. That was a rare feeling for the man.

With a soft sigh and a shaky hand placed on the young kid’s shoulder, Alfred did what he did best. “I am sure you will have many opportunities to make friends, young miss.” He lied. You knew he was, and yet you held onto the hope. Bruce said it’ll only be for a while- so maybe, just maybe, in high school, you’ll have tons of friends.

You finished your plate, eyes still wet, but at least you didn’t cry. Your insistence to help Alfred was only met with a soft smile and a shake of his head, the man insisting on you enjoying the free time you have, telling you that perhaps you should go and buy some clothes, some decorations for your room.

Again, you mentioned the insanity of leaving a kid to buy whatever they wanted, but Alfred only laughed. “Can- is there a laptop I can use? Mama always let me on hers when we ordered something online. It’ll be easier for me…” You asked so softly, almost going into rambling as anxiety of sounding like a brat, like you were ungrateful for the phone, settled in.

Alfred didn’t even blink, no muscle on his face twitched as he only nodded, saying he’ll bring one to your room straight away. That was easier than expected. You were so used to your mom saying no, or bargaining with her for new shoes, and you understood- you didn’t have that much money, could barely scrap by… But the way the Waynes threw money around felt irresponsible. Does Bruce truly make that much money that he doesn’t have to worry about losing his home? What if he loses it all one day? Does he have a savings account? Your tummy didn’t feel good worrying about all that, mama always said that only adults should worry about money.

You don’t think your mom would like Bruce very much. That thought filtered through your brain for quite a while as you looked up how to take care of a garden and specific plants you wanted to see bloom. He was so cold, distant, creepy, and secretive. Your mother always dreamed of a loving man, strong but gentle. You never understood why she put up with the men she hung out with considering they were exactly like Bruce.

Alfred interrupted your musing as he knocked, opening the door only when he heard your voice. He left the laptop and its charger on the desk, and his only words were to inform you of the timetable for eating.  “But, of course, if you get hungry before then, you’re more than welcome to the kitchen, young miss.” And he left just as fast as he came, barely having the time to ask where your mother would be buried. You doubted Bruce would hold a funeral for her. Alfred just said he’ll look into it.

With a small huff, you went and plugged the charger into the wall and laptop before opening it. Bruce gave you the card to use, and if he can’t be bothered to go with you to stores, you can surely get whatever you want. He’s so rich, you can bleed him dry a bit.

In the end, you didn’t. You felt too guilty about buying clothes and things for the garden, so your desires for those shiny metallic watercolors and 360 markers were exchanged for a few sketchbooks and graphite pens. Your mother is rolling in her grave at how much you spent, you were sure, so you rationalized the guilt to simply wanting to perfect your skills before buying those fancy things.

You got the clothes a size or two bigger, just like mami did, so they’ll fit you for longer. Simple things, pajamas, socks, underwear, and a few pairs of jeans and T-shirts, things she’d buy for you since you were unsure of what you were supposed to get.

You hoped Bruce wouldn’t be too angry, he was a scary man now, and you dreaded to see him angry. On the garden side of things, you may have overindulged. From all the tools you got, to the kind of soil, to the types of flowers, to making sure you got beds for the plants. The soil outside truly looked beyond saving. But if he was okay with Richard’s desire for more gymnastics equipment, surely he'd be fine with this.

At lunch, you were informed by Alfred that Bruce and Dick won’t attend dinner. It didn’t surprise you, however, it still felt like they were avoiding you, and it still hurt. Perhaps this will be the new normal, the everyday occurrence. Maybe this was normal for them, you were sure high school and work kept them both busy… Will they ever have time for you?

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae Forgot the tags D: my bad

[amoristt]

euclid

「 ✦kang dae-ho/reader ✦ 」 ・❥・he chokes you for the first time tags: smut MDNI // afab! reader, choking, pwp oneshot, unprotected, rough kinda?? for daeho's standards im sure

a/n: tiny little thang i had to to write bc i couldnt get this out of my head and its eating me alive !!!!!! word count: 1.2k

・❥・ you’re alive- perfect underneath him. a squirming, moaning, mess of a thing dragging your nails down the flexing muscles of his back and pressing your thighs to either side of his hips. warm and soft, every last part of you, down to your very DNA. built for him and the curve of his cock, eager to take it when he’s sliding against your gummy walls and finding the very essence of you against the tips of his fingers. he’s mapping out the shape of you, he’s finding every curve and every valley, remembering outline and the heave in your chest. nothing goes to waste. nothing goes unexplored, all appreciated, all a prayer from within the temple. 

Dae-ho is burning alive. every sound you make is fodder for the incineration he’s scorching in. the bed is creaking with the intensity how he takes you, the wooden frame knocking off the wall in thumps until he has to shush it- reaches up and grasping the frame until every knock is bouncing off his white knuckles. his other hand runs paths over your breast, your collarbone. grazes just below your jaw, and you’re already tilting your head back to bare it. 

the moment his grasp rests on your throat, you’re watching him through the thick fog in your eyes, equal parts lust and anticipation. pulse as quick as a rabbits- beat, beat, beating from underneath his broad hand. vibrating notes of fervor rumbling from your throat into your lips, into his waiting ears with every snap of his hips into yours. 

the clutch of your jugular in his hold does not come naturally to him. he lingers until you place your hand over his, puffy lower lip caught between your teeth in a hunger so true it flashes it’s great maws and swallows his whole right then, right there. he digs his fingers into that endless drum of blood pumping flush through your body and then he sees it- the shift in you. excitement into gratification, eyes losing their focus. he loves when he can see himself within the mirrors of your pupils, but he can’t deny how he’s transfixed to watch you lose yourself. feeling, seeing, experiencing nothing except elated bliss. your legs wrap around his waist, heels driving into his lower back. 

you want this. by the look of you, you need this. evident when you clutch the top of his hand with your own and look up from heavy lashes and urge him to press harder, to squeeze tighter. he ruts into you and hit’s something good, something that makes you arch your back and toss your head into the pillow with a wailing cry on your lips. 

“please,” you manage, struggling to get anything out except wanton moans with the way he drives himself within you. your fingers twisting into the bedsheets, your legs shaking around him, there’s something like tension growing within his gut.

he hears the exact moment your breath cuts short around his grip. rough inhales bottlenecked into wheezes, chirpy mewls snuffed out into rasping gasps for air. you don’t leave the spotlight of his eyes, you never do, but more so now than ever. watches the way your eyes slip shut, feels the way your toes curl, shivers when he takes your smile. smiling, and constricting around his cock so much so that he feels like his own breath is trapping within the confines of his lungs. his knuckles have gone numb between the bedframe and the plaster wall, forgotten by the raging sea of your sex, all things loud and urgent, smearing over his thighs with every clap of his skin meeting yours. 

you’re gripping his biceps and his forearms and anywhere else you can get purchase on, nails digging into his skin in the most delightful of ways. he lets up his grip, listens to you suck in wet, rapid breaths before he traps it in your throat all over again. keens, cries, all rewards you sing for him strangled out. a rush of something infects his body and runs it’s course into the burrow of his brain- this sense of power that’s making him lose himself in your heat. the ability to choose when you breathe, when you don’t, watching you split apart at the seams until you’re nothing but red faced and drooling under his grasp. tightening around his shaft like a vice, begging to keep him there forever. he doesn’t realize you’re cumming until your walls are fluttering around him in waves of euphoria. he can damn near see the stars behind your eyes.

that tension in his belly is growing into something he can’t hold back, pleasure so palpable it could be touched, dragging all the composure out of his body. you’re still gripping him so fucking tight it’s making it hard to breathe, in the throes of your orgasm, unknowingly dragging him to the very edge of that precipice himself. he’s driving you up the bed, pressing you into the mattress with the weight of his body. 

he slams into you once, twice, three times, and then the festering tension within him breaks into this overwhelming wash of intoxicating bliss. finds the very depths of you and the thrill of your walls sucking him in when he can’t help but let go. it’s not his intention to bury himself sound against your cervix when he cums, but he does anyways, in thick spurts of pearly white that's filling you to the brim. his hand leaves your throat in favor of bracing himself on the pillow beside your head, and you suck in ragged breaths. he’d think you were pain if not for the dazed, lopsided grin on your face, spent and fucked.

properly satisfied.

it takes all the power in dae-ho’s body to not crush you when he collapses over your form. he’s leaning on his elbows, your legs still loose around his waist, panting in your neck. pulling out is his least favorite part of sex with you. it’s lonely outside of your body, too uncomfortably cold to bear at times. you don’t speak at first, nails idly dragging up and down his spine under goosebumps form in their wakes. 

“was that,” he has to collect himself, searching for the words. “...was that good?”

“that was amazing, yeah.” you giggle at the waver in his tone and place a chaste kiss to his shoulder. your voice is honey sweet in his ears.

“i didnt hurt you?”

“stop worrying about that. you wont hurt me.”

“i always worry.” 

“i know.”

your fingers are dancing through his hair, melts all else away except for you. his lips find your neck, placing kisses to the sore skin, as if apologizing to the very marks themselves before he rolls to his side. 

Not a second goes by wasted before he’s wrapping his arms around your form, yearning for that warmth to be all over him once more. he pulls your back against his broad chest and buries his face in your hair, and you, you mold into him seamlessly, two conjoined souls, lost on where one ends and the other begins.

[dasloddl]

maybe there’s a deeper meaning behind this… or maybe I just like drawing blood ;)

[thinkinonsense]

Sit Still｡𖦹°‧

—gif credit: not mine!! i can't remember where i found it but if i can find it again or the owner comments, ill add their username <3

logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: cockwarming (sorta?), innocence kink, p in v, logan attempts to teach reader how to ride.

a/n: apologies for this being so short but chapter two of bewitched should be out friday or saturday! also i'll be responding to some requests soon too in case i spam lmao

"a-are you sure 'bout this, lo?"

your timid voice echos around the bedroom, capturing logan's attention again. he's been dreaming for months of this sight in front of him; you sitting pretty in his lap, only wearing a pink lacy bra and a pair of matching panties.

"you want me to make you feel good, right sweetheart?"

a small sigh escapes you as you attempt to grind onto him again. logan places his large hands on your waist to stop you from wiggling around. he knows you can't help it, you're still new to this after all.

it started a month ago when you and logan were left alone together in the mansion. everyone was on a field trip a couple hours away. you were recovering from a cold and logan simply didn't want to chaperone. instead, he offered to stay back with you.

late one evening, he came in to check on you and ask if there was anything you needed. that's when you asked him the question that nearly killed him, 'will you take my virginity?' you didn't see a problem with it. the two of you weren't strangers, you trusted logan, and he obviously has experience since he's much older than you.

ever since that night, you two have been going at it like rabbits. tonight, logan promised to help you get used to being on top. more importantly, training you to take him from this angle.

"c'mon, baby..." he coos with one hand on your hip and the other holding a cigar to his lips. "do it just like i told ya'."

swiftly, logan removes the rest of the material between the two of you before resting back against the mattress. anxiously, you line him up to your entrance and slowly sink down until you're sat fully on his lap again.

"nice 'n slow for me, sweetheart. that's it, stay still..." logan hums, lost in your tight, wet heat. he can hear every little noise coming from your lips. "atta girl."

it's a struggle to take all of him at once. you can feel him deep in your gut, nudging that sweet spot inside of you. logan can tell that your nerves are still tangled in knots, practically strangling his cock.

"lo, i c-can't do it." you huff, upset at yourself. "too full to move."

"poor fuckin' baby." logan teases with faux sympathy. "how 'bout we try something else for now?"

too caught up with the soft grind of his hips, you nod your head mindlessly to his proposal. logan brings his thumb to his lips, replacing the cigar which is now back on the nightstand. he sits up, making you whimper as he does so. you lean forward to capture his lips with your own, whispering how badly you needed him to just fuck you himself. instead, logan's got something else in mind.

"ah!" you gasp as he starts to rub your button with the wet pad of thumb. "f-fuck, right there..."

the soft rocking of your hips makes your toes curl and fingers pull at his little kitten tuffs. logan's mouth moves south to your chest. one nipple in his mouth then the other until both are swollen and kiss bitten. vibrations pour from his mouth as he groans at the tight squeezing of your cunt around his girth.

"ah-ah." he tsks, hand coming up to grip your jaw, pinching your cheeks together gently. "what did i say 'bout staying still?"

"s-sorry, lo.." you whimper voice muffled by your squished pouty lips.

despite having incredible stamina, logan was ready to release just from looking at your pretty face. he never been this close to cumming so soon but feeling you tense around him and wiggle in his lap made his head spin. all of this movement from only his thumb drawing circles.

"christ..." he grunts in your ear, moving faster now and with more pressure. "you're tryin' a kill me, sweetheart."

all logan gets in response is incoherent babbles of 'don't stop' and 'please, please, please'. he knows you are close when you claw at his back and start to bounce on him little by little, just enough to make you see stars. it all feels too much yet not enough at the same time. logan's circles start to get sloppy as he approaches his high too.

"l-logan!" you squeal, heavy eyes trying to focus on his face. "wanna feel you..."

in a rush, logan picks up the pace, torturing your button with his thumb. a loud moan falls from your lips, trying to wiggle out of logan's grip as your orgasm washes over you with intense euphoria. logan growls in your neck from your tight fucking grip on his cock, pumping his load inside of your walls. some of it spilling out of you and drenching the sheets.

the two of you catch your breath in silence for a moment. your nails scratch his scalp softly while logan pulls you down to kiss him. after a second, you move back, smiling down at him in a way that makes him harden again.

"thought you were gonna show me how to ride?" you tease.

logan shoots you a cocky eyebrow raise before leaning back again, one hand on your hip and the other returning to his cigar on the night stand.

"alright, baby..." he chuckles, re-lighting the cigar and paying little attention to the roll of your hips. "let me see what you got."

[bigassmoth]

yandere! elf x reader

Character belonging to @meo-eiru

(I hope I did him justice)

You are quite fed up with your stupid captor coddling you like a "mother" and then coaxing you to swallow his cum. While you have tried to correct his thinking, talking just didn't cut it. You had to take action now.

"Sit down." You speak to Silas as soon as he comes into the home, tone authoritative. He gives you a large smile, ears flushing- since when have you ever greeted him so cutely!? He happily chirps his assent and sets down a basket of various berries and herbs to sit with you on his couch.

"How are you? Are you hungry? Are you thirsty-"

"Do you remember what I have told you about mothers?" You interrupt him and take a sip from your mug, which contains a latte thankfully absent of his cum.

Silas claps and then finally picking up on your tone, decides to lower his hands and voice to sound serious. "Yes! You said mothers care for their children so they grow into adults and then let them go to support them from afar. And you said that mothers don't....uhm..." It was a genuine mental block, Silas didn't like or understand what you told him about his un-motherly behavior so he forgot it entirely.

As you silently scrutinize him, Silas begins to tear up. "I-I'm sorry I forgot-- I was listening I promise but I just can't- it's so hard." He blubbers and then wails, tears spilling over his cheeks. Months ago you would have thought it was over-dramatic acting trying to gain your sympathy. Ah, such a sweet thought. But no, this elf couldn't help but cry over the idea of disappointing you- or worse, not giving you his full undivided attention.

"That's ok, Silas." His waterworks stop when you softly use his name, a rare treat. "I know, it's complicated for you. So we are going to try something different today, I am going to show you everything that a mother cannot do." You set down your mug.

"Ok! Please show me!" He readily agrees, fired up despite his cheeks still being wet.

"Show you, what mothers never do." You emphasize and crawl into his lap, gently pushing him down on his couch.

He tilts his head in confusion, "Mothers don't do this?"

"They do not." You assert and press your lips to his. You start off the kiss with searing heat, all tongue and teeth. You slurp his own tongue into your mouth and nibble it- he squeaks and jerks but your hands hold his face still. Through the thin gossamer fabric of his clothes you feel his cock begin to harden. Quick to seize the opportunity, you grind down harshly on him, using the rough material of your own pants and the rolling of your hips to push his dick down as it struggles to stand.

Silas is beside himself, his hands have naturally come to rest on your hips and cannot decide if they should push or pull you. His hips have a mind of their own, bouncing up against you as you cruelly keep his now fully-hard member between his thighs. He is seeking friction and relief now, different from the controlled release of his 'feedings'. The noises that come from his mouth are high in pitch and frequent, he slips out 'please's in between your bites. Only after you are satisfied he will remain under you do you pull your mouth away from his.

"Who can do this to someone else, Silas?" You demand coolly. He squirms under you and your hips still. Coming down from the feelings of surprise, Silas thinks hard about his answer.

"M....Mothers?" His hesitant answer is progress.

You briefly lift your hips just so his cock can raise against the back of your ass and then you sit back down- hard. Silas throws his head back and yelps, his thighs trembling.

"No." Comes your rigid response. Silas is crying and squirming, likely without realizing he is doing so. He doesn't give you a response, only moans and sniffles. You grip his face until he looks at you.

"Silas, this is what a lover would do." You lift and roll your hips so his dick can finally stand up, and you place yourself behind it so it sits between your crotch and his stomach. You grind on him without build-up, setting a rough and hard pace. To keep your balance you place your hands on his chest and pinch his nipples hard enough you know it hurts.

He is practically possessed under you, letting out the deepest sounds you had heard from him as they become unlocked from his chest. He fully grinds his hips against yours, holds your ass tightly. Typically he touches himself lightly, as if unsure why he is doing it. The wetness he feels from between your legs, restricted by your clothing. The warmth, angry painful warmth, from his cockhead against his own stomach and the trail of thick cum that has begun sliding down his stomach from all of his bucking. Dimly, Slias is aware of how small you are compared to him, not small like a child anymore. Small in a different way, still exciting but new. Would his throbbing piece fit inside of you? Would you even let him? Small as you are, clearly you are an experienced and controlled adult. For the first time since he found you, you finally hold power over him. Now he wants to relinquish all of his power, trust it in the hands of someone who can make him feel so good, so used, so...in the back of his mind Silas remembers a term he read in human erotica, "sexy".

"Lovers milk cocks, lovers pin each other down, lovers touch these parts. Only lovers, no one else is allowed." He wonders how he could have ever thought your voice was innocent. Just hearing you made his ears tickle and his balls tighten. Would you say his name in that husky tone? Would you say his name the way he is chanting yours, mouth thick with drool and tongue too abused to enunciate?

He is choking under you, at this point you can't tell if he is processing your words or not. Finally without warning he snaps, his orgasm zaps through him with a ruthlessness that he hasn't experienced before. His cum coats your pants and his stomach, his cock twitches under you. He moans softly, erotically, as he comes down from his high. On your ass his fingers are twitching, weak from the strongest orgasm of his life but desperate to continue holding you. You pull away anyway, deciding that your work is done. You could now change into clean clothes and hopefully be done with this strange misguided pseudo-incest coming from the biggest bimbo of his species. No more waking up to hear "A good mother always feeds her children!" and receiving a cumshot to the face. You briefly clean the cum off of your own skin and slip into decidedly more comfortable clothes, finding Silas where you left him.

You are tempted to leave him on the couch, shuddering in his afterglow. But your sympathy wins out, you quickly clean him off with a rag (and ignore the way he starts loudly moaning as you touch him), throw a blanket onto him, and place a cup of water by his head.

"Rest for a bit. Once you can walk, clean yourself up. I'm going to make dinner." You turn to go to the kitchen but Silas catches your wrist.

Patiently, you look at him and wait for him to speak. But nothing comes out, the elf stares at his hand holding onto you, mesmerized by your fragility. Something so dainty he could easily break it- this used to terrify him. But now he can only think of ways to restrain you, or to be touched by you.

"Ok, let go. We need food." You sigh and pull your hand back but his grip tightens.

"I am not your mother."

Your face lights up, thank god! He caught on way faster than you thought he would! You should have done this ages ago! Of course some backwards pervert elf would respond to backwards pervert reasoning.

"Yes! Perfect!" In your excitement you are patting his massive shoulder and grinning, "You got it. I am an adult, not a child. You are not my mother, and I don't need a mother. So no more feedings-"

With a speed you didn't know he had, Silas pulled you against his chest. You groan with frustration.

"Fuck! Not this again! I'm not going to suck your tits, your mammary glands don't produce milk if not pregnant-"

"Lovers..." He rasps against your ear. You still as one of his hands, suddenly so intimidatingly large, slides down your back and pushes itself into your pants. His fingers glide between your asscheeks and curiously rub at your hole. You are flinching from the contact, his arms iron cages. He raises his legs and puts them between your own, then spreads them so your hole is forcibly exposed for his fingering.

"No- this isn't what I meant. We aren't lovers, lovers are- it's different. It requires a mutual component of emotional intimacy and chemical responses from environmental circumstances-" He presses a kiss to your ear and then wiggles his tongue inside. You writhe against him until he withdraws.

"Hmm~ I don't get it." He cheerily says and his fingers begin thrusting into you. "But I am not a mother, I understand now. I'm sorry for making so many mistakes." Your clean pants are becoming drenched in your own slick. "We will only do lover things from now on. Milking, Pinning, Touching. Both of us." He whispers sappily into your ear, positively lovestruck. You are still as cute as ever, protesting against the things that make your body feel good. He understands now that you are used to giving, which is why you gave him so much pleasure. He will have to be more assertive a lover for you, to make sure that your body is milked, pinned, and touched.

[gloomwitchwrites]

141 with a fem!reader who instead of not wanting kids can’t have kids?

This is a popular request, anon. I've had several submissions from various users. Since the theme/idea is similar, I thought I would combine them into one.

Heavy angst ahead, folks. I decided not to sugarcoat with this one. It's heartbreaking. It's sad. And yes, there is comfort and love mixed in.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, angst, infertility, pregnancy, miscarriage, mention of surgical procedure, emotional hurt/comfort, implied abortion/d&c, minor blood

Word Count: 900

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

This time, it sticks.

Somehow.

Miraculously.

After years of struggling, of being told it would never happen, of false results and shattered hopes—it’s happening.

You’d be in denial if it wasn’t for the test results in your hand. It is solid, a print out of what your doctor told you over the phone.

John stands next to you, reading the piece of paper over your shoulder. His shoulders are riddled with tension, lips a thin line. It’s clear that he wants to join in on your joy, but something holds him back.

“Are you happy?” you ask, suddenly nervous.

“I am—I.” John clears his throat. “But last time?”

Last time looked just like this. Last time everything was fine—until it wasn’t. Until the blood and the pain and the hospital visit.

“It might not be like last time.”

John gently grasps the sides of your face, thumbs brushing over your cheeks. “You don’t have to. Not for me. Not for anyone.”

“It’s okay, John.”

“Are you sure?”

You nod, and John places his lips to your forehead. “I worry.”

“I know,” you murmur, turning your face into his touch. “But you’re here. And that’s all that matters.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

It all has to go. All of it. There is too much damage.

No uterus. No fallopian tubes. No ovaries.

Gone. All of it. Gone.

Johnny sits next to you on the sofa, his head in his hands. His sigh is heavy as he rubs at his face. When he comes up for air, you know his world is shattered, just likes yours.

“The surgeon said they might be able to save some eggs.” Even you don’t believe the words leaving your mouth. It’s a farce.

“Might?” asks Johnny.

“They won’t know until they’re actually inside.”

Johnny is oddly silent. It’s not like him to be quiet.

“Are you upset?” you ask, tentatively.

“No,” he says sharply. “Not with you. Never with you.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, because an apology feels right but you’re not sure why you’re doing it at all.

Johnny places his hand on your knee, squeezing gently. “For what?”

Tears pool, threatening to spill over. “For not being enough.”

He leans in, face serious. “The fact that you think that at all means I’ve failed you. That I haven’t loved you enough.”

“Johnny.”

He draws you in. “This doesn’t make you less worthy of my love.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

A heartrate monitor beeps nearby. They’ll release you soon now that you’re awake and aware.

It’s all coming back in pieces.

You remember the cramping, the spotting, and then the bleeding that wouldn’t stop. You remember the cold linoleum floor against your cheek, of losing consciousness, of gaining it again only for the room to spin. You remember how cold you were, and Simon’s hands—of how his voice cracked when he said your name.

You don’t recall the trip to the hospital. You only remember how Simon demanded help while the staff told him he needed to calm down.

But he’s here now—and no one is yelling. He sits in a chair next to your hospital bed, face grim and skin pale like he hasn’t slept in days.

There have almost always been complications—always been issues while trying to conceive, but of those that have ended, it’s never been like this.

You turn your head, and as if sensing you, Simon glances up from his silent musings. You offer your hand. Simon takes it, and though he doesn’t squeeze hard, you feel the desperation in the way he clings to you.

“I’m not risking you. Never again.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Your friend opens the gift, presenting it to the gathered crowd. Everyone fawns over the set of baby blankets. There are several in total, all pale pastels.

You smile and agree that it’s a wonderful gift. Outwardly, everything is fine. Internally, your mind is still at home, lingering on the four pregnancy tests hidden in the bathroom bin beneath a pile of toilet paper.

Each one negative. Each one a glaring stain on the long list of failures.

Kyle emerges from the kitchen with the father-to-be, a massive grin on his face. This baby shower is a reminder to you of all your shortcomings. For Kyle, this is hope—a vision of the future.

And you haven’t told him. Haven’t said a word about those four negative tests.

How many years of trying now?

But you’re still young.

Don’t stress about it.

It’s so easy for others to stick their nose in, which is why you don’t share anymore.

Kyle plops down next to you. The happiness there is palpable, so thick it’s almost like butter on the tongue. You’re going to shatter it—hurt him yet again.

He presents his hand, palm upward.

You snatch it like a lifeline, and squeeze—hard. Kyle frowns at your entwined fingers. His gaze sweeps upward.

In your friend’s hands is a onesie for a newborn. Everyone coos, and something in you breaks. You’re smiling, but you sense the threatening tears.

Kyle’s frown shifts to a sad smile.

He knows. You don’t have to say anything.

Lifting your joined hands, Kyle brings the back of your palm to his lips. Placing a quick kiss there, he then kisses your forehead. He adds another kiss to spot just behind your ear.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “It’s okay.”

No one is watching.

“I love you.”

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[writingouthere]

singlemom!reader x neighbor!Sukuna. You and Sukuna have been dancing around each other for weeks, and when you tell him you've found another apartment for you and your daughter, he decides he's had enough.

cw: smut, breeding kink(heavy emphasis), Sukuna is a bad dude but you know that already. Your daughter's nickname is Bug but she's given no official birth name.

Sometimes, Sukuna remembered how much he felt like he would die if he didn't touch you back when he first met you. Now, he wanted to go back in time and punch himself in the fucking face because that him, that him did not know what it meant to suffer.

The past few weeks since the birthday party where he felt like you had finally, finally seen him had been the worst, but somehow best, weeks of Sukuna's life. On the surface, not much had changed. You still were crashing at his place, he continued to take on more and more caretaker duties with your daughter and the two of you were continuing this dance where you participated in the outline of what a relationship between the two of you could be but for some reason, you still seemed hesitant to embrace it completely.

Sukuna could be patient, he had been patient, but the fact that you two still weren't together when he was positive now it was what you both wanted, it was driving him insane.

You looked at him more than you did before and sometimes he would catch these quick glimpses of a desire that burned him, that made him want to show you just how much he had been wanting you. How he was never going to want anyone but you. But then, he would look again and you were back to feeding your daughter or cleaning a dish and just continuing with this facade where you were just crashing temporarily at his place.

Sukuna could feel the tension tighten across his back and shoulders as the three of you finished dinner. Your daughter was telling a story about something her and her "Uncle Uuji" had gotten up to when Sukuna's brother had been babysitting that afternoon, and you were smiling and giving the right "oohs" and "aahs" when you had looked over at him.

You looked so content and happy that Sukuna felt his shoulders relax in response. The waiting was killing him, but he reminded himself it was worth it, he was so close he could almost taste it. Soon, he wouldn't need to hold himself back and he could hold your hand and kiss you anytime he wanted, while his daughter monopolized the dinner conversation. You were both so clearly meant to be his and if he needed to give you some more time so you were comfortable, then he would give you more time.

Feeling at peace with his decision, Sukuna took the lead on bedtime duty that night. He read your daughter a story-"Do the voices 'kuna!" "I am doing the voices, kid"- and then tucked her in. He pressed a kiss to her forehead as she was struggled to keep her eyes open.

"Night, Bug."

"Night, 'kuna."

Sukuna finished tucking her in while you watched from the doorway. He was about to leave when the little girl grabbed his wrist.

"Love you."

Sukuna felt something catch in his throat and all the sudden he was a scared kid again holding a little Yuuji to his chest so the roaches that were all over the floor of their apartment didn't touch him. A fierce protectiveness lit up his chest and he promised to himself, for not the first time, that his little girl would never know experience any of that. It had taken him years to get Yuuji out of there, and Bug had already lived a few years without him, but she was home now and it was clear she knew that too.

"Love you too, Bug." He couldn't resist pressing one more kiss to your daughter's forehead but the kid was out like a light already. You moved aside so Sukuna could close the door, which he did very gently.

"Took her long enough tonight, huh? I think I'll still be able to recite 'Goodnight Moon' when her grandkids ask for it."

You don't smile and he knows you're aware he's joking about the time. There's a reason you're co-owning story time now, Sukuna isn't developing his voice actor repertoire for nothing.

He goes to put his hand on your shoulder but you move back a little as if you're trying to avoid his touch. Now he's concerned.

"You okay?"

You shake your head and gesture your head towards the living room. Sukuna follows, not appreciating the uncertainty he's feeling at your strange mood.

When you get to the living room, you hesitate and take a seat on the armchair. Usually, you only use it when you're reading or doing something on your laptop. Whenever you're together, you always share the couch with Sukuna and he notes the decision to distance yourself with distaste. He's sure the wariness shows on his face as he goes to sit on the side of the couch closest to you.

"Alright, what is it?"

You bite your lip and he's about to ask again, with less patience ,when you take a deep breath and begin. Your eyes trained down on your lap.

"I found an apartment for me and Bug. It's close to the daycare and it's a little smaller than we're used to, but it will work for now. A friend helped me find it and there isn't even a creepy landlord! I'm going to sign the lease Monday and we should be able to move in next weekend. So, I just wanted to thank you for everything."

Sukuna thinks he's stopped breathing and he feels a wave of anger so intense he can taste iron against the back of his teeth.

"You're leaving?"

You take another deep breath and nod while Sukuna's world continues to fall apart.

"I think it's time. You know, I appreciate everything you've done for me and bug. The past few months have been amazing and we never would have gotten through them without you."

Sukuna doesn't have it in him to let the pause you leave sit there long. "I keep telling you, you don't have to thank me. It's really fine. I like having you here."

You look down at your fingers where he sees it looks like you've been picking at them. He gets a bad feeling, worse than what he was already feeling.

"I know and that's-it's really nice, really."

"Great."

"But, I think it's starting to get confusing."

"Confusing? What's confusing?"

You go on, ignorant to, or ignoring the rage that's rising in him.

"It's just, when we were at that party a few weeks ago and everyone kept asking about us and if we were together, and about our situation, it's obvious that what we're doing isn't normal."

"Not normal, how?" Sukuna prompts and he's going to snap if you keep refusing to even look at him.

"You don't just crash with your neighbor for months on end because your apartment flooded. They don't help you with chores and spend all your time together. Neighbors don't babysit your daughter-"

"I like spending time with your daughter, that's not a favor I'm doing for either of you," Sukuna finally snaps, annoyed that the special moment he'd shared with Bug earlier was being overshadowed by you denying the relationship he'd been so careful about building with her. "I told you, I care about both of you and I don't give a fuck what other people think about our situation. I chose to let you both come and stay with me and I like the life we've built here."

You finally look up at that last part and your eyes are full of tears. Sukuna is able to hold back some of his anger at the sight of you in such clear distress.

"That's the thing, we're not building a life here, this is temporary and I think we've been forgetting that." A tear slides down your cheek. "A few days ago, Bug brought home a picture she drew in daycare. She drew the three of us as a family, Sukuna. She thinks you're going to be like her new dad and how am I going to explain to her that you're not going to be in her life when this is over? She barely understands what happened with her dad, I can't do that to her again."

Sukuna seethes. "Don't compare me to that piece of shit. He hasn't even tried to contact you or Bug since you moved in."

"Well, he's still her dad-"

"No, he fucking isn't," Sukuna is done and you're crying freely now and he doesn't understand where he went wrong with all of this. "In a few years, she won't even remember that bastard. I'll be the only father she's ever known because I'll be the one that's actually here."

You laugh a little and wipe at your face but it just exacerbates the mess. "What are you even talking about? You're her neighbor, Sukuna and when we move you won't even be that."

"Is that all I am to her? To you?"

"What else are you supposed to be?!"

Sukuna is so pissed, he doesn't know how he's going to recover from this. This is not what he wanted at all and here you were now-

Crying, you were crying.

The pieces started connecting and Sukuna realized that he wasn't being left. You weren't rejecting him or what he was to you or to your daughter. You were panicking. You were doing what you had been taught to do by everyone else in your life, to leave them before they could leave you.

You were right, after all. You were confused.

Sukuna was going to fix that.

You must have noticed the abrupt shift in Sukuna's mood because you seemed puzzled as Sukuna started to smile. You didn't have time to ask any questions before Sukuna stood up and walked over to your chair.

"Sukuna?"

"I see now, I wasn't clear with you. That must have been so frustrating, sweetheart."

You'd stopped crying in your bewilderment. "Sweetheart? Sukuna, what are you doing-"

Sukuna shushed you as he leaned you so you were face to face, his body almost shielding you from the rest of the room. You blinked a few times to adjust to the lack of light as he blocked everything else but himself from view.

"I'm going to help fix your confusion, sweetheart. You seem to think I've just been doing this all out of the kindness of my heart and I want to assure you, that's not the case," he says, leaning his forehead against yours. "See, I'm actually not that kind and if you were anyone else, I wouldn't have given you a place to stay, even with a brat."

"You don't mean that-"

"Yes, I really do. I don't help people, I don't give a fuck even whether they live or die. The only people I give a damn about are Yuuji, you and the kid and that's it. When I say I would have left anyone else to tough it out on the streets, I fucking mean it."

"You don't give yourself enough credit," you argue and Sukuna finds it adorable. "You're making it sound like-"

"Like what, princess?" Your breath hitches at that one and his grin turns predatory. "Oh you like that one, I'll keep that in mind princess." You gulp and he watches the way your throat moves and can't resist pressing a kiss to it.

"S-Sukuna-"

"No, no, go on princess, you were telling me what you thought the reason must be for me doing all these things. Go on, tell me your theory. You're a smart girl, I think you've figured it out."

"You like me," and the way you say it as almost a question is so endearing Sukuna can't hold back the trail of kisses he plants up your throat until he gets to your jaw.

"No, I don't like you princess." You seem to accept this and you're nodding, opening your mouth to probably say something stupid when Sukuna cuts you off. "Like isn't enough to describe the way I feel about you."

"Really?" You're so hesitant and sweet as Sukuna presses kisses up and down your tear stained cheeks. A new one slips down your cheek and he holds your face with both hands as he licks it up before it can fall all the way. You're almost panting now and he loves it.

"Trust me, I haven't gone to all this effort just for some lousy date or to get my dick wet." He leans back so he can see your face and cups your face so he can tilt it up to look at him.

"You're it for me, princess. This isn't temporary and I'm not going to let you go. Either of you."

"Sukuna, it's one thing to be interested in me but it's another to just-to just say you're going to parent my kid. I mean, she's a person you'd be tied to your whole life."

Sukuna hums, finding it cute how much you're still not grasping the situation. "All of your children will be mine, that includes Bug."

You laugh. "Children, plural?"

"Definitely plural." Sukuna looks your body up and down making his meaning clear and you seem determined to try to be the voice of reason as Sukuna goes back to kissing your cheeks, your temple, your forehead.

"We're not even dating, Sukuna."

"What do you call the past few months? We spend every day together, go everywhere together, we live together, we're raising your daughter together, what else do you need to know about me?"

"I'm wondering if there's in fact very important things I need to know about you." That's his smart girl and Sukuna finds the suspicion adorable, especially since it doesn't stop you from tilting your head so he can get to your neck.

"Well, you'll have the rest of our lives to get to know me," he nips at part of your collarbone that's exposed by your shirt and you hiss before gently pushing him away.

"Okay, this is nice."

That word again.

"But, just because you're interested in me and care about my daughter, that doesn't mean we should just jump into something. I still think the best thing would be for us to figure this out after Bug and I have our own place-"

"No."

You look confused, obviously thinking you misheard him.

"I'm sorry, you can't just say no, it doesn't work like that."

"But you can just decide to leave our home, with our daughter and for what? So we can do a worse version of what we've been doing? What purpose could that possibly serve?"

"Because this is too fast for me?"

"We already live together," Sukuna points out and knows this isn't the moment to mention he's the one who destroyed your apartment to make that happen.

"That doesn't mean we'll be good together."

"What exactly are you worried about? Do I not do my share of the chores?"

"No, that's fine."

"Do you not enjoy spending time with me?"

"Of course, I enjoy that," and he smiles smugly at that and pulls your arms gently so they loop around his neck.

"Do I not take of our daughter?"

You seem like you want to fight him on the 'our' but he goes back to kissing your neck and the way you tighten your grip lets him know you're getting distracted by the attention.

"She loves you," and that soothes the last bit of anger that had been present in Sukuna. Now, he was just ready to get started on the next part of your lives.

"Oh I see, so it's that I haven't been taking care of you? I'm so sorry for neglecting you. Don't worry, I can fix that right now."

Even if Sukuna kisses you a million times, he's never going to forget what it feels like to kiss you for the first time.

Your lips are soft and so warm. At first you don't react, your mouth still poised as if you're going to argue one last time, but then you're relaxing, leaning in and you give this sigh of relief and Sukuna knows you're hearing the same voice that he's hearing in his head.

This one.

Sukuna has long assumed that love and romance was nonsense shit for weak people who needed to find purpose. Sukuna wonders what it says about him that he thinks his purpose in life might have just been to find you.

You're kneeling on the chair now, Sukuna still hunched over so he can hold you. He's getting annoyed at the angle and how it's stopping him from feeling more of you and so he slides his hands down to your waist and pulls you up to him. With one hand on your hip, he uses his other to wind your right leg around him, you moving your left to follow suit. The new position has your core pressed up against where he's already half hard and you sigh into his mouth so beautifully, that he can't help but use the opportunity to explore your mouth.

It's hot and sloppy and so good that Sukuna moans and your legs tighten around his waist in response. The living room feels hot with every breath you exchange and he can hear the sounds you're making fill the space. Thinking about the child sleeping not nearly far enough away, Sukuna starts to walk you towards his room.

Even when he wants to be responsible and not have his first time with you interrupted by your daughter, he can't stop himself from pressing you up against the wall at least twice before you finally get to his room.

It's going to be your room now too, and he's so happy it disgusts him a little.

Sukuna has you pressed up against your door, one hand holding your waist and the other grabbing your ass so he can control the way you're rocking up to meet him. He angles you down a bit and you both moan at how the position lines you up to grind directly on his cock. There's too many layers separating you still, and it's that thought that pushes him to finally open the door.

He makes sure to lock the door behind you before he tosses you on his bed. On your bed. That's never going to get old.

He crawls over you and is back to kissing you into the mattress before you even have time to fully catch your breath. You're panting into his mouth and he nips at your top lip as you pull away to breath, catching it in his teeth. You don't need any prompting to spread your legs and he fits between them like he was meant to be there, letting his weight drop enough on you so you can feel him.

While he's excited to finally explore your body and see what he's been thinking about for months, he's having a hard time separating from you long enough to move any further than you are. Sukuna usually doesn't care much for kissing, but kissing you is different. He thinks he could kiss you all night even if his hard cock very much disagrees with that sentiment.

Fuck, if you kept grinding your cunt on him like you were, he may just come before he even gets inside you.

It's that thought that finally makes him get up on his knees to take his shirt off. You follow suit under him and he can't stop from kneeling down to kiss at your newly exposed skin. You're not wearing a bra and your tits are too perfect for him to ignore even for the sake of getting to your cunt.

These are the same tits that fed your child and will one day feed his and something about that gets to Sukuna in a way he hadn't ever really thought about before with other partners. It makes him softer, more gentle with his worship and you thread your fingers through his hair when he takes one of your nipples and sucks it gently in his mouth. He releases it so he can leave a few quick hickies around your chest. You're squirming so hard underneath him, he has to press you down with a thigh slotted between your legs to hold you still.

"Sukuna," you whine and he hushes you before leaving another mark under your collarbone.

"I'll get there, pretty girl. Just use my leg for now," he says continuing to leave marks wherever he can while you groan underneath him.

"I want you inside me," tempting but Sukuna is getting greedier the more desperate you are. Maybe if he fucks you hard enough, you'll stop thinking about stupid shit like needing your own apartment.

"I'll be inside you soon, I just want to taste a bit first. The way you are, I think humping my thigh will be enough to get you off," he teases and you whine, embarrassment clear in your voice. If you can still be embarrassed, more proof you're not ready for his cock in you. He presses against your cunt harder and he can feel the warmth of you on his thigh even through your leggings and his pants. He moves in a way more meant to tease than to provide you any relief and your frustration is clear when you start moving your hips to a faster, harder rhythm.

Sukuna smirks against your marked up throat when your whines start getting faster and closer together. You're still holding onto his shoulders when your grip tightens and you let out a gasp signaling your release.

Sukuna laughs meanly as you take in deep breaths, body still shaking from your orgasm. "Wow, someone was really pent up. No wonder you're having trouble thinking straight," he teases as he moves so he can take off his pants and boxers, giving his cock a quick stroke, drawing your hungry gaze down. "Don't worry, I got you. I'll give that tight cunt what it needs."

You pull him down so you can kiss him again and you're uncoordinated now, but Sukuna likes you better like this. Likes the proof that he's making you feel good. He presses down and your fingers scratch where his neck meets his scalp pulling out a moan that vibrates through his chest. He breaks off your kiss because he really does need to get inside you or he's going to come, and while the vision of you covered in his seed is a compelling one for another time, he plans on coming inside you first.

Sukuna pulls on your leggings until you get the hint and lift your legs so he can pull them off, leaving you in a pair of familiar blue panties. He laughs when he sees them and you come out of your daze a little bit, so he pulls them off too and tosses them aside so he can get to where you both want him.

Sukuna lightly touches your slit and smirks down at you when his fingers come away wet. Keeping eye contact with you he brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean and holds down your wrists with his free hand when you try to cover your face.

"All this just from my fucking thigh, just from some kissing. I'm starting to worry my cock might actually kill you."

You glare up at him and he grabs your leg as you try and kick him. "If you're so worried, maybe I should just leave then?"

Sukuna laughs and you gasp when he brings his fingers back down to you, slipping in two fingers to the knuckle. Your pussy is tight but you're so wet, he slides right in and he can't wait to get you on his cock. He brushes his thumb against your clit as he stretches you out, your voice leaving you in pants and gasps that are making him feel like a god.

"You're not going anywhere princess, not tonight, not on Monday, not next weekend," he moves so he's covering your body. His lips catching yours mid-moan. "When I'm done, you're going to be too tired to keep running from me."

He pulls his fingers out and you whine at the sudden emptiness but he keeps kissing you as he moves so his cock is touching your entrance. He moves it up and down, wetting himself in your slick. He cuts off your kiss so he can see your face, wants to look at you when he fucks into you for the first time. Finally getting some oxygen to your brain and the feeling of his cock pressing into you seems to bring your thinking back online.

"Wait, Sukuna, a condom," you say and he grins, not even pretending like he's thinking about it.

"We don't need a condom."

"Yes, we do, I'm not on birth control," you say and Sukuna has to tighten his grip on himself so he doesn't come.

"And?" He asks and he slips just the head in, you let out the cutest noise and your pussy clings to him as he pulls out.

"I-I could get pregnant, Sukuna!" He hums like he's actually thinking about as he presses in again, this time moving another inch into your tight cunt. It's teasing you both and he doesn't know how much longer he's going to be up for conversation as he pulls out only to thrust in, again just barely giving you his cock.

"Good, Bug wants a sibling. She was telling me how excited she'd be to be a big sister."

"Sukuna!"

"What? You don't think we'd make a cute kid? I think they'd be as beautiful and as brilliant as their mamma," Sukuna would take your protests more seriously if your pussy wasn't literally gushing. He could swear his balls were wet with your slick and you weren't even really fucking yet.

"This is a big commitment, Sukuna. It's not a joke."

"Good thing I'm not fucking joking then," Sukuna kisses you again and nothing beats the way you gasp into his mouth when his rubs the head of his cock against your clit. "You really want me to stop? Want me to go away? If you tell me you don't want my baby, that you don't want to be my little wife and grow our family, I'll go find a fucking condom. But I'm going to need you to tell me that. Make sure you're loud, princess. I'm a little distracted, right now."

You hesitate and Sukuna thinks he might actually have to try and figure out where he stashed his condoms, since he hadn't gotten laid in damn near six months when he feels your hands move to cup his face.

"And if I want that?"

Sukuna feels his heart skip a beat despite it all, your hands on his face feel just as intimate as all the rest, another way you continued to humble him.

"Want what, princess? Going to have to be more specific for me."

"All of it, the family, the baby, everything." You seem to be drawing on your courage and Sukuna is proud of you despite himself. "I want you, Sukuna."

Sukuna crashes his mouth into yours and you follow him willingly. He uses his hand to guide his cock into your cunt and you move your hips, greedy for him, as he slowly pushes in. When Sukuna is finally in all the way, he feels a warm contentment fall over him. Imagining this, it had always been defined by a frenzy that he finds absent in the actual event.

Maybe it's because you've finally acknowledged him and what he means in your life, but he doesn't feel desperate as he fucks into you slowly, his thrusts purposeful. He feels victorious. The satisfaction curls around his body and makes your lips sweeter, your hips fit even more right in his palms and your cunt wraps around him like it was molded to fit his cock. He doubts you were made for him, you were too good for that, but he had managed to get you anyway and you're recognition of his possession over you made him smile into your mouth.

He kept his pace slow, thrusting deep enough inside you each time that you couldn't stop the way your breath hitched at the feeling.

"Sukuna!"

"Yes, princess?"

"F-faster, please!"

"So polite, how could I say no," his voice is more breathless than he means it to be but he doesn't give a fuck. Not when your pussy is so sweet, or given the way you moan for him as he begins to pick up the pace. Sukuna loves the way you sound but he thinks of the little girl sleeping down the hall and he covers your mouth with his hand.

"Don't want to wake up our daughter, do we?" Something about that makes you tighten up and your eyes roll backwards and Sukuna thinks he knows what it is.

"Gotta make sure I can put this baby in you, right? You did so wonderful with the first one, I just got to see it happen again." You're moaning so loud Sukuna isn't sure his hand is doing much good, but you're both close enough he doesn't think about trying to stop you aside from a throw away thought about gagging you with your panties.

Oh well, thoughts for next time.

And the idea that there would be next times, that you were going to his to fuck anytime he wanted, had Sukuna reaching down to play with your clit. He could barely stand to pull out of you at all and at this point you two were more grinding than fucking but it was so good, you were so good-

"Come on princess, you're almost there. Be a good girl and come for me and I'll give you a baby, I promise. Just need to feel you come on my cock."

You bite his palm as he feels your cunt spasm and he only gets in another few thrusts before he's coming too and he hopes it takes. He presses his lips against your temple as you catch your breath and he continues to kiss your face as he feels himself soften inside of you.

Later, he'll clean the two of you up and finally get you under the covers. He'll get to hold you in his arms and feel what it's like to fall asleep with you. He'll also wake you up for another round so he can make sure Bug gets that little sibling he was now very excited to meet.

********

When Sukuna wakes up to you in his arms, he's debating waking you up for round three when he hears the sounds of sniffling and little footsteps outside. He gently moves your body off his arm and gives you a pillow to cuddle when your body turns to look for him. Your little pout in your sleep makes him feel bad for the trick but there's someone else who needs him right now.

Throwing on his pajamas, Sukuna makes his way out to the hallway, shutting the door behind him.

"Good morning, bug."

"Morning, 'kuna," your daughter is holding onto a little plush fox that Yuuji had won for her at an arcade a few weeks ago and she's still sniffling looking confused. He thinks he knows why.

"Your mom's asleep in my room, kiddo. She's okay, she's just sleeping."

"Why is she in there?"

This is a loaded question and Sukuna knows he should probably ask you on how you plan on introducing your relationship to your daughter, but he feels that same unsettled feeling when he looks at her sad face now that he had felt looking at your tears the night before.

Sukuna leans down and holds out his arms and Bug goes to him, trusting despite her confusion, and he picks her up and carries her to kitchen. He puts her down on the counter so she's as close to his eye level as she can get given her size and he decides to be honest with her.

"You know how I love your mom?" Bug nods her head and Sukuna feels warm. "Well she loves me too, so we decided we're going to share a room from now on."

"Forever?"

"Yeah kid, it's going to be forever."

"Can I sleep with you too?"

Sukuna smirks and then kisses her forehead. "Sometimes, but you're going to want to stay in your new big girl room I think. It's way cooler than the boring adult room."

"Big girl room?" Her eyes widen and there's a familiar gleam of ambition.

He's got her.

"Well now that it's your own room", and her eyes just get even bigger at that. "You're going to need all your own stuff to make it yours."

"All mine?"

"All yours, Bug. At least until you have a little brother or sister, you may have to share then. Would that be okay?"

"Yes!"

Bug jumps on the counter and then into Sukuna's arms and he holds her close to him as she burrows her face into his neck. He breathes in the smell of her hair and he's so relieved now that he knows she's going to stay here forever, that you both are.

"Does that mean we're going to stay with you?"

"Uh huh, you're stuck with me. I'm never leaving."

Bug pulls back and holds out her pinky finger. "Promise?"

"Yeah, kid, I promise."

Many, many years from now, at your thirtieth wedding anniversary, Bug will stand up and tell the story about the day Sukuna became her dad. Her mom, her siblings, her Uncle Yuuji and many attendees will cry, but Sukuna will maintain his dry eyes and his dignity.

Or that's what anyone should say when asked.

He'll still kill a motherfucker.

That's it, it's the end! I may return to this universe in little drabbles but the main story is done! As a fatherless daughter, ending it with Bug was very necessary to me. I also think a big part of this story is Sukuna finding fulfillment in the family he was denied growing up(projecting is the name of the game here).

Much love.

[laumier]

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫. ⋆ 엔하이픈 hyung line.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: enha x fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: pwp-ish ?? , swearing , pet names, riding in jake’s, dirty talk, mentions of being in pain, suggestive in hoon’s hc, praises, hickeys, missionary

lala’s note. definitely doing this for atz. also, i got carried away with jake’s.. whoops :p.

⠀⠀⺀ LEE HEESEUNG.

the sun peeked through the beige colored curtains, signaling that it was well past 8am. you and heeseung remained in bed, bodies tangled together under the white sheets along with subtle touches from each other.

he was propped up on his elbow, leaning over you with his lips attached to yours. his hands roaming your body underneath the sheets. the sound of breathing and small moans filled the bedroom as the two of you still had a bit of adrenaline from the night before.

you threw your leg over his, pressing your body closer to his as he deepened the kiss.

“baby,” he whispered against your lips, leaning into your touch.

you hummed in response, somewhat distracted by the way he touched you.

“i need it..” his kisses traveled down to your neck, nibbling here and there. you hissed quietly, trying not to give into him seeing as this would’ve been the 5th time you both went at it.

“hee.. again? can we at least start the day first?” your laugh was cut short with a moan as heeseung found your sensitive spot, sucking a hickey there.

“can’t start the day without my daily honey..” he mumbled. you rolled your eyes when he mentioned the ‘honey’. it was a little name he had given your pussy. you remembered him saying that it was sweet and how sticky in between your legs would get whenever you were aroused.

“hee,” you whined, trying to push him away so you could climb out of bed.

“unhunh,” he protested with a grumble, his arm coming to lock around your waist so that you couldn’t move. he began shuffling his way under the thick duvet, giving you a mischievous smile. you squirmed around until he grabbed ahold of your thighs, holding them in his larger hands.

“just one more taste, baby..”

⠀⠀⺀ PARK JAY.

your back arched off of the bed as jay thrusted into you slow and deep, his length dragging against your soft walls. your moans were soft, but the sound bounced off of the walls making them seem much louder. jay grunted into your neck quietly, rocking his hips at a torturous pace.

the two of you couldn’t seem to get enough of each other, even with how many times you came the night before. jay was infatuated with you, just as you were with him. he wanted to show you that love all over again.

your nails clawed at his back, your legs wrapping around his waist as the stickiness between you both became messier.

“jay,” you gasped as his hips suddenly sped up, brushing against your g-spot. your mouth created an ‘O’ shape as you struggled to get any word out.

jay groaned, shivering when you clenched around him.

“fuck, i love you so much..”

you placed your hands on each side of his face as he picked his head up to look you in the eyes. you leaned in, pressing your lips against his in a quick, rough kiss.

jay found himself now pounding into you at a way quicker pace than before. the bed slightly creaked as the headboard hit the wall softly. if he had any self control before, it was definitely all gone now. you were just too irresistible to him.

your hand came down to where you and jay were connected, spreading your folds so jay could have more access. the squelching from your pussy became louder as jay dug deeper and you inched closer to the edge.

“deeper, babe, deeper..” you moaned out, unraveling your legs so you could spread them.

your high pitched whines only fueled jay, his hips now moving like they had a mind of their own.

you both wouldn’t be leaving the bed anytime soon.

⠀⠀⺀ SIM JAKE.

“fuuck, you feel too good,” jake threw his head back, his hands finding their way onto your hips. his long brown strands stuck to his forehead as his sweat dripped.

you lifted your hips up once more, his length sliding out of you, covered with cum and your juices. you took him back inside you, a hoarse moan escaping your mouth as you leaned down, pressing your chest against jake’s.

his hands traveled past your hips, gripping the soft flesh while guiding you up and down on him.

“mhm.. ride that dick like you need it, mama.” he hissed, landing a slap on your ass. you bit your lip, whining as he began thrusting his hips up to help you.

jake stared up at you in awe, eyes lidded and filled with love. he was addicted to you. you were almost like a drug to him. he was hooked.

“ja..jake,” you mewled. he didn’t respond at first, distracted by the way you moved against him. he shuttered, a whiny moan escaping his plump lips.

“jake.. i have… t-to get ready..”

he panted, shaking his head. he picked up the pace, your ass now slapping his thighs.

“nah.. just need you here with me..”

you began to slouch against him as you continued to whine. you tried to protest but your body still gave into him. your hips instinctively moved against his, giving you more pleasure.

he landed another harsh slap against your ass, earning a whimper from you.

“need you to cum all over me, baby.. keep putting that pretty pussy on me,”

jake’s words seemed to give you a sudden rush of adrenaline, making you forget about the shift you had in an hour.

⠀⠀⺀ PARK SUNGHOON.

you opened your eyes to see sunghoon’s back facing you as he sat on his side of the bed, probably still trying to wake himself up. you reached out, running your hand up his back, causing him to jump a bit.

you ran your nails down his back lightly, watching the goosebumps appear on his skin. he licked his lips, your touch bringing memories back from the sleepless night that you both had.

you sat up, the blanket falling of of your body as you moved to sit behind him. your hands traveled from his back to in front of him, sliding them down his chest slowly.

“g’morning..” your voice came out in a raspy whisper as you placed your lips right by his ear. you planted a kiss behind it, making your way down to his neck and shoulder.

he tilted his head to the side, giving you more access. your hands continued their actions, their movements causing sunghoon’s face to heat up. he was enjoying this too much.

“mornin’,” he mumbled, quietly hissing after, your kisses and nibbles making him weak.

your continued your wet kisses, making his breath hitch. he would’ve turned around and laid you out on the bed right then and there but he had things planned for the day. ‘things’ meaning his very demanding job.

“what’s planned for today?” you asked, your voice low and seductive.

sunghoon’s hand came to grab yours from his chest, bringing it to his lips, pressing gentle kisses to it.

“the usual. whatever the mangers have on the schedule.”

you hummed in response, hardly listening to whatever he said. you only wanted him and his body against yours so it was hard for you to focus on anything else.

“stay home, baby..”

“what?” he chuckled lightly.

“tell them you can’t make it..” you began kissing down his neck again, this time in all his weakest spots. your hands wandered all over him, making it hard for him to say no.

“y/n..—“

“please, hoonie? just want you to myself today.” your whiny tone was starting to turn sunghoon on. he exhaled, reaching for his phone on the nightstand.

“you’re lucky i love you.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

𐙚 : — comment or send an ask to be added to my taglist.

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐫.

𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦.

[fluffymiyaa]

: ̗̀➛Rude Boy(s) ft. LADS Men

TW : Degradation, rough sex, face fucking, choke, hair pulling, tie up, spanking, brat taming, belly bulge, cockwarming, recording, toxic, dom/sub, brush painting play, gun play, biting, possessiveness, slight exhibition

Synopsis : In which, you having hate sex with them

➤ Neighbour!Xavier x reader

You step out of your apartment, dressed casually in just a T-shirt and shorts, clutching plastic bags full of trash. The air is cool, and the hallway is quiet—except for the sound of someone’s heavy footsteps.

It’s Xavier, your neighbor, stomping towards his door with a stormy expression. His face is marred by fresh bruises, and his hands are bandaged, blood seeping faintly through the wrappings. It’s obvious he’s fresh from a mission—one that didn’t go as planned.

A smirk creeps onto your face as you lean casually against the doorframe.

“My, my… someone looks like they had a rough night.” you say, voice laced with mockery.

Xavier’s dark eyes narrow, his jaw tightening as he stops briefly in his tracks. “I’m not in the mood for this.” he mutters through gritted teeth and continues walking past you.

But you’re not about to let him off that easily. You drop the trash bags to the floor with a loud thud and stride after him, your grin widening.

“Aw, come on. What happened? Did you mess up? Failed the big mission?” you taunt, your voice sing-songy.

He halts abruptly, turning on his heel to face you. His sharp gaze feels like it could cut through steel.

“Say another word,” he growls, his voice low and threatening, “and you’ll regret it.”

The tension in the air is electric, but you’re far too entertained to back down. You cock your head, your smirk unfaltering. “Oh? Really? Then make me.”

In a flash, Xavier closes the gap between you two, slamming you against the wall with a force that knocks the breath from your lungs. His large hand grips your jaw, squeezing your cheeks together just hard enough to make you wince. His face is inches from yours, his voice a deadly whisper.

“You wanna know what a rough night really feels like?” he hisses, his lips curling into a dangerous grin. “Fine. I’ll make it so rough, you won’t even remember your own name.”

That’s how you end up on your knees in his bedroom. Xavier's grip on your hair tightens as he forces your head down, his cock sliding deeper into your throat. The salty taste of his skin mingles with the coppery tang of blood from your split lip. Tears stream down your face, blurring your vision, but you can still see the cruel satisfaction in his eyes.

"Hmm..finally put that mouth in a good use," he growls, his voice thick with sadistic pleasure. "I knew you'd look so pretty choking on my cock."

“Mmphngh!”

You gag and sputter around his thick length, your throat convulsing as you struggle to breathe.

Xavier's hips snap forward, driving himself deeper still. The head of his cock hits the back of your throat, cutting off your air completely. Spots dance in your vision as you claw at his thighs, desperate for relief.

Xavier's fingers tighten in your hair as he groans, his hips stuttering and jerking as he nears his peak. He looks down on your messy face, god you look so hot it makes him wanna cum. His cock throbs against your tongue, the veins pulsing with need.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he pants, his voice ragged. "You better take it all, but don't swallow yet."

His command sends a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and anticipation. You brace yourself, knowing what's coming.

With a guttural moan, Xavier buries himself to the hilt in your throat. His cock pulses as he spills himself inside you, hot and thick. You can feel each spurt hitting the back of your throat, coating your tongue with his essence.

He holds you in place, his grip unyielding, as he rides out his orgasm. Finally, he pulls out, his softening cock slipping from your lips.

"Open up," he demands, his voice low and rough.

You obey, parting your lips to reveal the creamy load pooled on your tongue. His eyes darken with lust as he watches you,

Xavier's eyes darken with lust as he watches you, his spent cock twitching at the sight of his cum glistening on your tongue. He reaches out, his thumb brushing over your swollen lower lip, smearing the pearly drops.

"Such a good girl, taking my cum so well," he praises, his voice a low rumble. "Now, swallow it all down like a good little slut."

You obey, tilting your head back and letting the thick, salty fluid slide down your throat. Xavier's thumb presses against your chin, forcing your mouth closed as you swallow every last drop.

"Good girl." he praised, his other hand tapping your cheek.

Xavier's eyes blaze with a fierce, primal hunger as he hoists you up and tosses you onto the bed. The mattress dips under your weight, the sheets cool against your heated skin.

"We're not done." he growls, his voice a low, dangerous purr.

Before you can even catch your breath, he's on you, his hands ripping at your flimsy t-shirt. Buttons fly everywhere as he bares your chest to his greedy gaze.

"Xavier!" you gasp, arching into his touch. But he doesn't slow down, doesn't give you a chance to catch your breath.

He grabs the torn remnants of your shirt, using the fabric to bind your wrists together. The rough material bites into your skin, the sting only heightening your arousal.

Your shorts are next, yanked down your legs in one swift motion. You try to protest, to tell him to slow down.

“Wait! Slow-!”

He silences you with your own panties, shoving the damp fabric into your mouth.

"What? You said you wanted it rough, didn’t you?”

Xavier's eyes rake over your naked form, his gaze hot and possessive. He spreads your legs wide, exposing your glistening folds to his hungry stare.

"Fuck, look at you," he groans, his fingers delving between your thighs. "So wet already, so ready for me.”

He circles your clit with the pad of his thumb, the touch light and teasing. You arch into his hand, desperate for more, craving the pressure and friction that will send you over the edge.

"Stop teasing." you plead, your voice breathy and needy.

But Xavier just shakes his head, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "No."

You whine in frustration, your hips bucking against his hand. But he denies you, his movements maddeningly slow and deliberate.

Suddenly, his palm connects with your clit in a sharp, stinging slap. You yelp, your body jerking at the unexpected sensation.

He pull out your panties from your mouth. Give you a chance to speak.

"Beg for it," he demands, his voice low and commanding. "Say that I'm the best hunter, that I'm better than you."

You furrow your brows, hesitating. The words feel foreign on your tongue, a admission of defeat that you're not ready to make.

Xavier's eyes narrow, a dangerous glint flashing in their blue depths. "Don't want to? Okay, I'll just leave you here all spread out and unsatisfied."

He starts to pull away, but you stop him. “No! Please! W-wait! P-please xavier.. t-touch me.. want you to make me cum.. you're so good.. such a skilled hunter.. you're the best a-and way so much better than me..please…” your voice cracks, desperation and need coloring every word.

The words pour out of you in a rush, a desperate plea for his touch, his attention. You've never felt so vulnerable, so exposed.

He smirks, a triumphant gleam in his eyes. "See? That wasn't so hard."

He shoving you panties back into your mouth.

His fingers find your clit once more, circling the sensitive nub with deliberate, teasing strokes. You moan, your hips rocking against his hand, seeking more friction, more

"That’s it," he murmurs, his voice low and rough with desire. "Let me hear you. Let me feel you.”

He increases the pressure, rubbing your clit in firm, steady circles. At the same time, he slides two fingers inside you, curling them just right to hit that spot that makes you see stars.

"Fuck, you're so wet," he groans, his fingers pumping in and out of your tight heat. "So hot and ready for me."

He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. "I'm going to make you come so hard," he promises, his breath hot against your skin. "I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk, until all you can think about is my cock inside you."

His words send a shiver down your spine, a thrill of anticipation and desire. You've never been talked to like this before, never been so thoroughly claimed and possessed.

Without warning, he’s inside you, his hard length stretching you, filling you in one brutal thrust. You cry out around the gag, your back arching off the bed.

“Ah!”

He sets a punishing pace, pounding into you with reckless abandon. The bed creaks beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful thrust.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he pants, his voice rough with need. "So tight, so perfect."

He pulls back, his eyes locking with yours. The intensity in his gaze steals your breath, makes your heart race.

"I'm going to ruin you," he growls, his thrusts growing harder, faster. "Ruin this sweet little cunt until you can't walk straight."

You whimper around the gag, your nails raking down the sheets.

Xavier's fingers dig into the soft flesh of your breasts, kneading and squeezing roughly. He pinches your nipples between his fingers, twisting and tugging until you're gasping and writhing beneath him.

"You said you wanted to know how rough my night was, right?" he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "Let's find out."

He leans down, his teeth closing around one sensitive peak. He bites down, hard enough to make you cry out, before soothing the sting with his tongue.

"Maybe next time I’ll take you there," he murmurs against your skin, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "I’ll fuck you there as we hide from the Wanderers. Let’s see how long you can keep your mouth shut.”

➤ Brat taming!Zayne x brat!reader

Your heels clicked loudly against the polished floor as you walked down the hall, head held high. Every step echoed with confidence, and you could feel the eyes on you—admiring, envious, curious. Flashing a dazzling smile, you tossed a playful wave toward a group of students, then blew a kiss toward a few boys who immediately scrambled to look cool. You chuckled to yourself. Being the most popular girl on campus had its perks.

When you reached the teacher's office, you smoothed your skirt, knocked lightly, and walked in. Mr. Ryo was at his desk, looking up from a pile of papers.

"You called for me, sir?" you asked with a practiced, polite tone.

He sighed, already looking exasperated as he handed you a stack of tests—your tests.

"Explain this." he said sharply.

Your stomach sank as you flipped through them. Red marks dominated every page. "Uh, well, you see... I haven’t been sleeping well because my house is under renov—"

"Save it," he cut you off, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You’re barely scraping by, and if this keeps up, you’ll fail my class."

Your eyes widened in panic. "What? No, I can’t fail! Please, sir, I’ll—"

"That’s why I’ve arranged a tutor for you," he said flatly, cutting off your plea.

You groaned. "A tutor? Come on, I don’t need—"

"He’s already here." Mr. Ruki interrupted, nodding toward the door as it opened.

You turned to see who it was, and your heart dropped. There, leaning casually against the doorframe, was Zayne.

Of all people.

Zayne, your eternal nemesis. You hated him since high school, where he lorded over everyone as the president of the student council. He had a talent for finding flaws in you specifically—your tardiness, your outfits, your general existence. And now, standing there with his arms crossed, he looked just as insufferable as ever.

His sharp eyes flicked over you, unimpressed, before he straightened. "I’m only doing this because Mr. Ryo asked me to," he said, his voice cool and detached. "We’ll start after class. Your place."

"Wait, my place?" you blurted, already bristling.

He raised an eyebrow, ignoring your tone. "Don’t waste my time." he said simply, then turned and walked away as if the conversation was over.

You stood frozen, jaw dropped. How was this your life right now?

"Dismissed." Mr. Ryo said, waving you off.

You left the office in a daze, gripping the stack of papers tightly. Of all the tutors in the world, it had to be Zayne.

"Oh, he's still an asshole." you muttered under your breath.

You spot him standing near the front gate of the campus, waiting with his usual stiff posture. He’s dressed in a crisp white shirt tucked neatly into his plain slacks, his glasses perched perfectly on his nose. Seriously, who even dresses like that these days? Zayne was still the same nerdy, old-fashioned perfectionist he’d always been.

“You’re late." he said as you approached, his tone as cold as ever.

You rolled your eyes, folding your arms. "Sorry." you muttered, not meaning it in the slightest.

He sighed heavily, the disappointment practically radiating off him. "You never change."

"And neither do you," you snapped back. "Look, let’s just cut this short, okay? We both hate this, and we both hate each other. I’ll tell Mr. Ryo that you were useless and told me to screw off. Problem solved. Bye."

You turned on your heel and walked away. He looked at you from behind, adjusting his glasses as his sharp gaze followed you.

"She needs to be disciplined."

Once you step in your room, Somehow, impossibly, you’ve ended up straddling Zayne’s lap, his thick length nestled snugly between your thighs. Skirt up, panties aside.

His fingers dig into your hips as he holds you steady, his hard length throbbing deep inside you. The books lay open on the desk before you.

He grip your hips, fingers digging into your soft flesh. His hazel eyes are dark with desire as they take over your form. "I'll give you five minutes to finish your quiz," he growls, voice low and commanding. "Start now."

You shiver at the authority in his tone, a thrill running down your spine. With trembling hands, you reach for your pen, but it's a struggle to focus. The heat of Zayne's cock deep inside you is a constant distraction, making it hard to.

You try to focus, pen hovering over the paper, but it's impossible to think with him filling you so completely. Your walls clench around him, desperate for more, for the friction that will send you spiraling into bliss. But he remains still, a cruel master determined to make you earn your pleasure.

"Three minutes," he growls, his breath hot against your neck. His hips twitch, a teasing promise of what's to come. "Don't make me wait."

You whimper, the sound lost in the rustle of turning pages. The first question swims into view, but the words blur together, meaningless in the face of the exquisite ache building within you. Your hand trembles as you scribble down an answer, praying it's correct.

“Times up.”

The exam paper lies crumpled on the desk, your pen clattering to the floor as you whimper loudly. Zayne moves closer, his hazel eyes scanning the answers you've scribbled down. As he reads, his cock twitches inside you, eliciting a moan from your lips.

"Look at your paper," he clicks his tongue disapprovingly. "Did you really finish high school? How did you even go to college? God, you're still as dumb as ever. What have you been doing all these years?"

You bite your lip, trying to stifle another moan as he pinches your clit. Your hips buck involuntarily, seeking more friction against his thick length buried deep within you.

"D-don't be mean, Zayne." you plead, humping against him desperately.

“D-don’t b-be mean, Z-zayne.” He mocked.

He scoffs, grips on your neck tightens, forcing you to meet his piercing gaze. His eyes are dark with lust and frustration, a dangerous combination that sends shivers down your spine.

"This won't do at all," he growls, his voice low and menacing. "You just want to get fucked stupid, don't you? To have your mind completely emptied by my cock until you can't think of anything but the pleasure I give you."

You whimper pathetically, your body trembling under his dominant touch. The degrading words only serve to heighten your arousal, your pussy clenching greedily around his thick shaft.

"Answer me," Zayne demands, his fingers digging into your skin. "Tell me what you want”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but they're not from pain. It's the overwhelming mix of shame and desire that threatens to consume you.

"Y-yes.. please want you to fuck me stupid, zayne.. been waiting for long." You beg.

The cool air hits your exposed skin as Zayne pulls his thick cock out of your dripping pussy, making you whine in protest. He grabs your hips and maneuvers you to the edge of the bed, your ass presented to him like an offering.

SLAP!

His palm connects with your cheek, the sting radiating through your body. You yelp and bury your face in the sheets, your fingers clutching at the fabric.

"And what makes you deserve it?" Zayne asks, his voice cold and demanding.

You can't response, your mind clouded with arousal and the throbbing pain in your ass. He rubs your reddening cheeks, soothing the sting before delivering another sharp spank.

"Ah! Zayne, it hurts!" you cry out, your voice muffled by the sheets.

"You want me to stop?" he asks, his fingers digging into your tender flesh.

"N-no," you whimper, shaking your head frantically. "Please don't stop.."

Zayne's dark chuckle rumbles through his chest as he delivers another stinging spank to your reddened ass. "I knew it," he growls, his fingers digging into your tender flesh. "You're just a pathetic little masochist, aren't you? You crave the pain, the degradation. It's the only way you can get off."

He leans over you, his body pressing against your back as he whispers in your ear. "Now, you better count for me. Maybe if you're being a good little slut, I'll fuck you senseless. But if you miss a number or hesitate, I'll keep spanking you until you can't sit for a week."

His hand hovers over your ass, the threat of another spank hanging in the air. "Start counting.”

You take a shaky breath, your mind racing with anticipation and fear. "O-one." you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper.

SLAP!

His palm connects with your cheek, the pain searing through your body.

"Louder," he commands, his voice cold and demanding. "I want the whole neighborhood to hear what a pathetic slut you are."

You bite your lip, trying to stifle a whimper as you force out the next number. "T-two."

SLAP!

Another spank lands on your reddened flesh, the sting radiating through your body.

Zayne's hand cracks against your ass again and again, the sharp sting of each spank sending jolts of pain and pleasure through your body. You lose track of how many times his palm connects with your reddened flesh, your mind hazing over with the intensity of it all.

"Twenty." you cry out, your voice hoarse and broken.

Zayne pauses, taking a deep breath as he admires his handiwork. His fingers trace over the raised welts on your skin, the heat radiating from your ass. He spreads your cheeks apart, exposing your dripping pussy to his hungry gaze.

"Fuck, look at you," he growls, his voice thick with lust. "So wet for me, even after all that. Aren't you ashamed? Didn't you say you hated me since high school? Now look at you, bent over and taking your punishment like a good little slut.

"I-I hate you!" you whimper, even as your hips push back against his touch.

Zayne chuckles darkly, his fingers rubbing your labia teasingly. His fingers slip easily into your soaked entrance, your body betraying your true desires despite your feeble protests. He pumps them in and out, curling them just right to hit that sensitive spot deep inside you.

"Don't worry, the feeling is mutual." he murmurs, his lips brushing against your back as he presses a tender kiss to your skin.

His fingers move faster, harder, the obscene sound of your arousal filling the room. Your walls clench around him, desperate for more, even as your mind reels from the degrading words falling from his lips.

Just as you about to cum, his fingers slip out of your dripping pussy, replaced by the thick, hard length of his cock. You arch your back with a loud moan, your body stretching to accommodate him.

"Oh! Zayne!" you cry out, your voice echoing off the walls.

He starts fucking you hard and fast, his grip on your hair tightening as he pulls your head back. His other hand presses down on your back, keeping you arched and exposed to his relentless thrusts.

The skin slapping sounds fill the room, mingling with your moans and his grunts of pleasure. His palm connects with your ass, the sting only heightening your arousal.

"Ahhngh s-so good please please don't stop..!" you beg, your words dissolving into incoherent pleas.

Zayne chuckles darkly, his pace never faltering. "Yeah? Cock drunk already? I barely started, darling.”

He fucks you harder, faster, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you with every thrust. His hand runs to your belly, pressing down on the bulge as he pounds into you. The added pressure makes you scream, your pussy clenching around his cock like a vice.

"Fuck," he groans, his hips snapping forward with brutal force. "I fucking hate you. Fucking hate that short skirt, fucking hate that skimpy outfit, fucking hate your makeup, your attitude. Argh... so fucking hot. Makes me want to fuck you in front of everyone. God, this pussy feels so good."

His words are like a drug, your body responding to the degradation even as your mind reels. You can only moan in response, lost in the haze of pleasure and pain.

"Z-zayne... k-kiss me... please." you manage to gasp out, your voice broken and needy.

Zayne throws his glasses aside, grabbing your face and crushing his lips to yours in a bruising kiss. His tongue invades your mouth, claiming you, owning you.

"Fuck me like you hate me."

➤ Rival!Rafayel x reader

Your footsteps echo through the art exhibition, your eyes scanning the frames on the walls. Each piece is scrutinized in silence, the weight of your judgment unmistakable. You shake your head, disappointment flickering across your face. Sliding your hands into the pockets of your coat, you turn on your heels, ready to leave.

And then you see him.

Rafayel, the owner of the exhibition, stands a few feet away, his sharp gaze cutting through the distance. Anger burns in his eyes.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he demands, his voice tight.

You scoff, taking a deliberate step toward him.

"Rafayel," you say, your tone laced with mockery, "have you learned nothing?"

His hands clench into fists at his sides, his body tense as he closes the gap between you.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he growls, his face mere inches from yours.

A smirk tugs at your lips, and you laugh softly, cocky and infuriating. Tilting your head, you deliver the blow.

"Your paintings," you say, gesturing toward the walls with a flick of your hand. "Still as dull as ever."

His jaw tightens, his glare sharp enough to cut glass. You can see him fighting the urge to lash out.

"You don’t know a damn thing." he hisses.

Turning back to the nearest painting, you feign a thoughtful gaze, letting the silence stretch just long enough to unnerve him. Then, almost casually, you speak.

"Have you heard the news? About the plagiarism accusations?"

You don’t need to look at him to feel the storm brewing in his chest.

"I didn’t plagiarize anything," he snaps, his voice low and trembling with restrained fury. "I don’t copy, and I don’t steal."

You let out a low laugh, shaking your head as if pitying him.

"Are you sure about that?" you ask, your smug expression cutting deeper than words.

His teeth grind together audibly.

"I don’t need to prove anything to you."

You shrug, your indifference only stoking the fire in his eyes. Slowly, you start toward the exit, your footsteps deliberate.

"Well," you call over your shoulder, "you’d better get a good lawyer, then."

Before you can leave, he grabs your arm, spinning you back toward him. His grip is desperate, his voice shaking.

"I didn’t do it!" he insists, his eyes pleading for you to believe him—or at least stop.

Your smirk widens as you raise a hand, your fingers brushing lightly against his cheek. He flinches but doesn’t pull away.

"Then you’d better give me a reason not to report you," you say, your voice silky, every word a trap. "What can you do for me, Rafayel? Hmm?"

His breath catches.

"I..." His voice falters, his resolve crumbling under the weight of your gaze. "I’ll do anything."

–

You smirk down at him, your shadow falling over his helpless form as he lies on the bed. His face is flushed, a deep crimson that spreads from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. He averts his gaze, his breath shallow and uneven, clearly wrestling with the embarrassment of the situation.

"You look pathetic like this." you say, your tone a mixture of mockery and amusement.

His lips part as if to respond, but no words come. Instead, he turns his head to the side, his fists gripping the sheets beneath him, as though anchoring himself against the storm of emotions threatening to consume him.

"Don’t look away." you command, your voice sharp enough to make him flinch. Slowly, hesitantly, his eyes meet yours, wide and vulnerable.

The sight only fuels your satisfaction. Leaning in, you lower your face closer to his, your smirk widening as you watch him squirm.

"Embarrassed, are we?" you whisper, your words laced with cruel delight.

"I…" he stammers, his voice barely audible.

You chuckle softly, the sound echoing in the quiet room. Reaching out, you trail a finger along his jawline, savoring the way he shivers under your touch.

"Good," you murmur. "Stay just like this. Helpless. Humble."

His breath hitches, and for a moment, it feels as though the world has narrowed to just the two of you—the tension between dominance and submission hanging heavy in the air.

"Do you understand?" you ask, your voice low but firm.

He nods, barely, his pride crumbling under the weight of your gaze.

You slowly take one of the brush paint. Rafayel's eyes widen as he watches you approach, the brush in your hand, a wicked gleam in your eyes. He squirms on the bed, his face flushed with embarrassment and arousal, his hard cock standing proudly against his stomach.

“Mhm.. you’re so sensitive.”

"S-stop teasing.” he whimpers, his hips twitching as you tease the sensitive tip with the soft bristles.

You enjoying the power you hold over him, the way he's at your mercy. "And who said you get to decide?" you purr, your voice low and seductive. "I'm in charge now, and I'm going to take my time with you."

You trail the brush down his length, watching as he shudders and moans, his cock twitching under your touch. "Look at you," you murmur, your eyes roaming over his body, taking in every inch of him. "So hard for me already, so desperate for my touch.”

The brush go lower, teasing his balls, watching as he squirms and moans, his cock twitching and leaking pre-cum.

You trail the pre-cum coated brush over his sensitive skin, his body arching into your touch. He watches, transfixed, as you paint his abs, his nipples, his neck, his face, leaving a glistening trail of his own essence in your wake.

"Fuck," he groans, his voice rough with need. "You're driving me crazy."

He licks his lips as you rub the brush over them, tasting himself, the flavor heady and intoxicating. His eyes meet yours, dark with lust and adoration, his gaze never leaving your face as you admire your handiwork.

"Such a work of art," you murmur, your voice filled with reverence. "My own personal masterpiece.”

You throw away the paintbrush, your hands sliding over his cum-slicked skin. He gasps as you grip his neck, forcing him to meet your piercing gaze, your words hitting him like a punch to the gut.

"I never liked you," you hiss, your voice dripping with venom. "Back in art college, you were so arrogant, so childish. And yet, you always won every competition."

Your other hand flicks and pinches his nipple, making him moan and arch into your touch. "I wonder what people would think if they saw you like this," you mused, your eyes glinting with malice. "So helpless, so desperate under me. Should we show them? Should I record how pathetic you look right now?"

Rafayel's cock twitches at the thought, his body betraying his desire even as he shakes his head, pleading with you. "Please, don't." he begs, his voice hoarse with need.

His breath hitches as your hand drifts lower, your fingers wrapping around his throbbing cock, stroking him slowly, teasingly. "Look at you," you purr, your voice low and seductive. "So hard for me, even as I threaten to expose you."

You squeeze him tighter, your thumb swirling around the sensitive head, smearing the pre-cum that leaks from the tip. "I could ruin you, you know," you whisper, your lips brushing against his ear. "One video, one scandal, and your reputation would be in tatters."

Rafayel whimpers, his hips bucking into your hand, seeking more of your touch. "Please," he begs, his voice breaking. "Don't do this. I'll do anything, be anything you want."

You smirk, your eyes gleaming with triumph. "Anything, huh?" you ask, your hand stilling on his cock. "Even if I want to use you like my own personal toy?”

His eyes widen at the suggestion, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through him. He swallows hard, his throat bobbing as he tries to find his voice.

"Y-yes," he stammers, his cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red. "I'll do anything you want. Use me however you see fit."

He looks up at you, his gaze pleading and desperate, silently begging you to take control, to dominate him completely. "Please," he whispers, his voice barely audible. "I'm yours."

You smirk, your eyes gleaming with triumph and lust. You release his cock, your hand trailing up his body, your nails dragging lightly over his skin.

"Good boy," you purr, your voice low and seductive. "Such a good obedient little toy.”

You take off your bra and panties, crawl on top of him teasingly.

Rafayel's eyes widen as you straddle his face, your bare pussy hovering just inches from his eager mouth. He licks his lips, his tongue darting out to taste you, to savor your essence.

"Make me cum first." you demand, your voice husky with desire. You grip his hair, your nails digging into his scalp as you lower yourself onto his face, your wet heat pressing against his lips.

He moans into you, the vibrations sending shivers through your body. He grips your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pulls you closer, his tongue delving deep into your folds, lapping at your clit, sucking and nibbling until you're writhing above him, your juices coating his face.

You ride him hard, grinding your pussy against his mouth, using his face for your pleasure. "Fuck, yes," you moan, your head thrown back in ecstasy. "Just like that.”

Rafayel's tongue delves deep, lapping at your clit, sucking and nibbling, his lips and teeth and chin all covered in your juices as he devours you. He grips your hips tighter, holding you in place as you grind against his face, using him for your pleasure.

Your hand wanders to look for your phone. Flashing coming up to his face. His eyes widen in shock as the flash of your phone goes off, momentarily blinding him. He squirms beneath you, instinctively trying to pull away from the sudden bright light.

But you press him down harder, your grip on his hair tightening, your thighs clamping around his head. "Stay still," you command, your voice firm. "Keep going, baby. Don't you want to make me cum?"

Rafayel whimpers, his body trembling with a mix of fear and arousal. He knows he's helpless, completely at your mercy, and yet the thought of being recorded, of being exposed, only serves to heighten his desire.

He takes a deep breath, steeling himself, and then dives back in, his tongue lapping at your clit, his lips sealing around it and sucking hard. He can feel you tensing above him, your moans growing louder, more desperate, as he works you closer and closer to the edge.

Rafayel's tongue works feverishly, his lips and teeth and chin all covered in your juices as he devours you, determined to bring you to the edge. He can feel you tensing above him, your thighs quivering, your juices flowing freely as he pushes you closer and closer to the release you so desperately crave.

He doubles his efforts, his tongue flicking rapidly over your clit, his lips sealing around it and sucking hard, his nose pressing against your sensitive bundle of nerves as he breathes in your scent, intoxicated by your taste, your smell, the feel of you against his mouth.

Your moans grow louder, more desperate, your hips bucking wildly against his face as you ride him harder, chasing your release. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, I'm gonna cum," you cry out, your voice raw with need.

You came all over his face. Rafayel's face is drenched in your juices as you pull away, your release coating his lips and chin, dripping down onto his chest. He looks up at you, his eyes glazed with a mix of arousal and embarrassment, his cheeks flushed a deep red.

You smirk down at him, your phone still in hand, the camera trained on his cock as you pump it a few times, making him wince at the sensitivity. "Oh? Did you just cum? Only from me sitting on your face?" you mock, your voice dripping with amusement.

He grunts, his face burning with shame at the realization that he came just from pleasuring you, from the taste and feel of you against his mouth. He looks away, unable to meet your gaze, his cock twitching in your hand.

But then you cup his face, your fingers gentle against his skin as you pull him towards you, your lips meeting in a deep, passionate kiss. Rafayel melts into it, his embarrassment forgotten as he loses himself in the taste of you, in the feel of your lips against his.

When you pull away from the kiss, your lips leaving his with a soft smack. He watches, breathless and aching, as you place your phone on the desk, angling it to capture both of you.

"Just because I'm feeling nice, I'm gonna ride tonight," you purr, your hand still wrapped around his throbbing cock, stroking it slowly, teasingly.

"T-thank you," Rafayel stammers, his voice husky with need. He bucks into your touch, desperate for more, for the feel of you around him.

You position yourself over him, your wet heat hovering just above his tip. Then, with a slow, torturous descent, you sink down onto him, taking him inch by inch into your tight, slick heat.

Rafayel groans, his head falling back against the pillow as you envelop him, your walls clenching around his length. "Fuck, you feel so good," he gasps, his hands flying to your hips, gripping them tightly.

You start to move, rising up until just the tip remains inside you, then sinking back down, taking him deep. Rafayel's hips buck up to meet you, his rhythm matching yours as you ride him hard and fast.

"That's it, baby," he pants, his eyes locked on where you're joined, watching as his cock disappears into your heat over and over again. "Fuck, you're so tight, so perfect."

His hands slide up your body, cupping your breasts, thumbing your nipples as you bounce on his lap. You moan, your head falling back, your hair cascading down your back as you lose yourself in the pleasure.

He leans forward, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking and nipping at the sensitive bud as you ride him.

You grin down at him, your confidence radiating as you lean closer, lowering your head until your lips hover near his ear.

"I’m actually the one who’s been copying you.”

➤ Sylus x thief!reader

You slide your gun back into your pocket, your eyes darting around the sprawling, opulent house. The silence here is unnerving, as if the place has been abandoned, yet something about it feels... wrong. You tiptoe cautiously, the soles of your boots making the faintest of sounds against the polished floor.

Your boss had told you to rob this house, promising a hefty payoff. But now, separated from your partners, the task feels like a trap. The eerie quiet, the pristine state of everything—it’s like no one’s lived here in years.

Still, the sheer luxury of it all tempts you. Your gaze lingers on ornate paintings, golden vases, and intricately crafted furniture. You can't wait to make off with some of it. Before you realize it, your wandering feet lead you to the kitchen.

The darkness here is almost tangible, swallowing everything whole. You fumble forward, your fingers brushing against cold countertops. Suddenly, your hand knocks over something small and glass.

A spice jar tumbles to the floor with a sharp clink.

"Shit, shit!" you whisper, your hands scrambling to pick it up.

Then, without warning, the overhead light flicks on.

"Well, well," a low, amused voice drawls. "What do we have here? A curious little kitten prowling where it shouldn’t be?"

Your heart jumps to your throat as you whirl around. Standing in the doorway is a tall man with stark white hair and piercing eyes. He’s immaculate, like he stepped out of some glossy magazine, but there’s something deeply unnerving about the smirk playing on his lips.

You gulp, your hands trembling as you reach for your gun. "W-who are you?"

He steps closer, the smirk widening. "Me? I’m Sylus, the owner of this house. Just got back from... cleaning up a mess. Some little rats who tried to steal from me."

Your stomach drops. Your partners. They’re gone.

Fear overtakes you, but you steady your grip, pulling the gun free and aiming it square at his chest. "Don’t come any closer."

His expression doesn’t falter. If anything, his smirk grows darker, more mocking. "Oh, kitten," he murmurs, "you don’t want to do that."

"Sorry." you breathe, steeling yourself as you pull the trigger.

Bang!

You flinch, your eyes squeezed shut. When you finally force them open, he’s still standing there. Unharmed.

The bullet didn’t touch him.

"What the hell—" you stammer, panic rising as you pull the trigger again. And again.

Nothing works. He doesn’t even flinch. Instead, he laughs—a cold, menacing sound that echoes through the room.

In a flash, he’s on you, gripping your wrist with an iron strength. Pain shoots through you, forcing the gun to clatter to the floor. He lifts your chin with his free hand, forcing you to meet his eyes.

"I told you," he says, his voice soft but laced with menace. "You didn’t want to do that."

"F-fuck you!" you snap, struggling against his grip. "Let me go!"

He tilts his head, his gaze dragging over your pretty face. There’s an unsettling glint in his eyes, like a predator toying with its prey.

"Hm," he murmurs, his grip tightening. "No. I’ll keep this one.”

—

You're sprawled out on the cold kitchen table, tears streaming down your face as his tongue laps hungrily at your most intimate places. Your wrists are bound with his evol, holding your legs wide open for his feasting. The obscene sounds of his slurping and your desperate moans echo through the house.

"P-please, ahh! No more... too much...!" you beg, voice hoarse from crying out. But he just chuckles darkly, the vibrations sending shivers through your core.

"Mhm... not my fault this is my kitchen. I eat whatever I want. Let me enjoy my meal." he growls, diving back lap at your dripping folds. You arch off the floor, a loud moan tearing from your throat. Gods, if anyone hears...

"Ngghh... fuck you... I hate rich people like you... people like me barely have any meals..." you whimper, even as your hips buck into his face. It's your own fault for trying to rob this place, but what choice did you have? You need to survive.

Sylus pulls back, admiring your glistening body splayed out before him. Your thighs are trembling, your chest heaving with each ragged breath. He licks his lips, savoring your taste.

"People like me, huh? Tell me more, kitten. What do you think about me?" His voice is a low purr, dripping with dark amusement. He trails a clawed finger along your inner thigh, teasing.

You try to think of anything, but your mind is hazy with pleasure. All you can focus on is the heat of his gaze, the promise in his touch. Your body is betraying you, aching for more even as you struggle against the bonds.

"Uh... you... you're annoyingly rich... but ahh... you're so hot... mhh..." The words slip out between moans as you rub your thighs together, seeking friction. It's clear he's getting to you, driving you crazy with need.

He chuckles darkly, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he leans in close, his breath hot against your ear. "Is that so? And yet here you are, spread out like a feast just for me. I wonder... do you really hate me? Or do you crave the forbidden thrill of being at the mercy of someone like me?"

Sylus’ clawed hands trails up your thigh, sharp nails lightly scraping your sensitive skin. He can feel you trembling, feel the heat radiating off your body. Your arousal is intoxicating, a heady scent that fills his senses.

"I could give you everything you've ever wanted, kitten. All you have to do is ask nicely." He nips at your earlobe, soothing the sting with his tongue. "Or maybe you'd prefer I take it? I can be very persuasive when I want to be.”

His hand slides up your body, cupping your breast and squeezing roughly. He pinches your nipple between his fingers, rolling and tugging until you're arching into his touch with a desperate whine. Your body is so responsive, so eager for his touch even as you try to resist.

"Mhm..i could eat you whole up y’know.." he purrs, his voice a dark promise. He leans down, capturing your nipple between his lips and sucking hard. The sensation sends sparks of pleasure-pain shooting through you, making you gasp and writhe beneath him.

His free hand continues its teasing exploration of your body, dipping between your thighs to circle your clit. You're so wet, so ready for him. He can feel it in the way your hips buck against his touch, seeking more.

"Look at you, so desperate for my cock." he growls, releasing your nipple with a wet pop. He sits back on his heels, admiring the wanton picture you make - bound and spread out, flushed and panting with need.

Sylus smirks, an idea forming in his twisted mind. He pulls away from you, his gaze roaming the kitchen floor as if searching for something. Then he spots it - your gun, lying forgotten on the floor. He picks it up, turning it over in his hands with a wicked gleam in his eye.

"You remember this?" he asks, holding it up for you to see. Your eyes widen in fear and you gulp, shaking your head frantically.

"No, no, please don't kill me-" you beg, your voice trembling. But he just laughs, a dark, cruel sound that sends shivers down your spine.

"Shh... I won't kill you, kitten. I've decided to keep you instead. But let's make this more interesting, shall we?" He slides the gun up your body, making you flinch and squirm. He stops when the barrel is pressed against your lips.

"Open up." he commands, his voice brooking no argument. You have no choice but to comply, parting your lips.

He pushes the gun deeper into your mouth, watching with sadistic glee as you gag and choke around it. Tears stream down your face as you struggle to breathe, your body writhing in panic. But he just smirks, enjoying your distress.

"That's it, kitten. Take it all." he purrs, his voice dripping with dark amusement. He holds the gun in place for a long moment before finally pulling it out. Strings of saliva connect your lips to the barrel, a degrading reminder of what he's just made you do.

He trails the gun down your body, over your heaving breasts and quivering stomach, until he reaches the apex of your thighs. Your pussy is dripping with arousal, a fact that doesn't escape his notice.

"Look at you, so wet and ready," he taunts, rubbing the gun against your clit. You cry out, your hips bucking involuntarily into the touch. The sensation is strange but not entirely unpleasant, the cold metal a stark contrast to your heated flesh.

He continues to tease your clit with the gun. Your hips writhe and buck, seeking more of the strange sensation even as your mind rebels at the degradation of it all.

"You're such a filthy slut, getting off on having a gun shoved in your mouth and rubbed on your cunt, knowing it could kill you anytime." he growls, his voice thick with lust. He slides the barrel lower, pressing it against your entrance. Your eyes widen in fear and anticipation, your body tensing as he begins to push it inside.

"Oh god!" you cry out as the cold metal breaches your hot, slick flesh. The sensation is intense, bordering on painful, but there's an undeniable thrill to it as well. He works the gun in and out, fucking you with it in shallow thrusts that have you seeing stars.

He continues to fuck you with the gun, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure-pain through your body. Your pussy clenches around the cold metal, trying to draw it deeper even as your mind screams at the wrongness of it all. He leans over you, his body caging you in as he drives the gun in harder, faster.

"That's it, kitten. Take it all. Take every fucking inch." he growls, his voice a dark promise. His free hand releases your nipple to trail down your body, fingers dancing over your skin like a promise of more to come. He reaches your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in tight, fast circles that have you keening and thrashing beneath him.

The dual stimulation is too much, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of oblivion. Your body tenses, your muscles coiling tight as the pressure builds to an unbearable crescendo. You're so close, teetering on the brink of something huge and terrifying and utterly inevitable.

"Fuck, I can feel you tightening up.”

He leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, "Come for me, kitten. Let me feel you come undone on your gun." His fingers work your clit with ruthless precision, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your body tenses, your muscles coiling tight as the pressure builds to an unbearable crescendo. You're so close, teetering on the brink of something huge and terrifying and utterly inevitable.

With a final, brutal thrust of the gun, he sends you careening over the edge. Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your pussy clenching and fluttering around the cold metal as wave after wave of ecstasy washes through you.

“Ahhhh!!”

You scream, your voice raw and ragged, as the intensity of your climax overwhelms you.

He brings the gun to his lips, licking your essence from the barrel with a wicked grin. The taste of your arousal mingles with the metallic tang of the gun, a heady combination that makes his cock throb with need.

"Delicious." he purrs, his eyes glinting with dark satisfaction. He sets the gun aside, his attention now fully focused on your quivering, spent form. He trails his fingers up your thighs, his touch feather-light and teasing.

"But we're far from done, kitten. I'm going to fuck you now, hard and deep, until you can't even remember your own name. Until the only thing you know is the feel of my cock splitting you open and the sound of my voice commanding you to come."

He positions himself between your legs, the thick head of his cock nudging against your sensitive, swollen flesh. You whimper, your body already tensing in anticipation of the intrusion. He chuckles darkly, enjoying your reaction.

"Shh, just relax and take it like a good little slut. This is what you're made for, after all. To be used and filled and fucked until you can't take anymore."

With those words, he thrusts forward, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal stroke. You cry out, your back arching off the table as he stretches you wide around his thick length. The burn of the intrusion is intense, your body struggling to accommodate his size.

"Fuck, you're so tight." he groans, his hips grinding against yours. He gives you a moment to adjust before he starts to move, pulling out slowly before slamming back in. He sets a punishing pace, his cock pistoning in and out of your dripping cunt with ruthless efficiency.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room as he pounds into you with wild abandon. His cock stretches you wide, the thick length hitting depths you didn't know you had. Each thrust sends jolts of pleasure-pain through your body, your nerves singing with the intensity of it all.

“Ahhh Sy-sylus! P-please ahh..! S-so good!”

Sylus pounds into you relentlessly, each thrust driving you harder against the table. His claws dig into your hips, leaving crescent-shaped marks in their wake. You can feel every ridge and vein of his thick cock as he stretches you, claiming you as his own.

He leans over you, his body caging you in as he drives into you harder, faster. His teeth find your neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin until you're sure you'll be marked for days. The thought sends a thrill through you, the idea of bearing his claim for all to see.

"Yeah... you're mine now. All mine," he said, his voice low and possessive. His eyes burned into yours, unrelenting. "No matter how much you hate it, I'm going to keep you here. Forever."

Before you could respond, he grabbed the back of your neck and crashed his lips onto yours. The kiss was rough, messy, and unapologetic, leaving you breathless and furious all at once.

When he pulled back, his smirk returned.

"That means I'll take care of you. Feed you. Buy you whatever you want. Take you anywhere you dream of going." he murmured, his tone deceptively sweet.

His grip tightened slightly, holding you in place. "I'll spoil you, treat you better than anyone ever could. But you're not leaving. Not now, not ever.”

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[p1astr81]

second place -ln4

In which: Lando can’t balance his work life and his personal life, and loses his girl as a result.

pairing: Lando Norris x pop star!reader

warnings: angst, all hurt/no comfort, use of y/n

‧‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅

All night, you’d been glancing over to the vip section on the floor. With each look over, you’d hoped to see his smiling face magically appear, but it never came.

Disappointed? Yes. Surprised? Shocked? No.

This wasn’t the first incident. Last month, he forgot about two dates. Dates you planned on your own. And it’s almost everyday now that his phone goes to voicemail whenever you call him. Then you’d shoot him a text and he would get back to you hours later with a half-assed apology about being on the sim or studying data.

The two of you talked about it once. He promised to be better. To try harder. Spoiler alert: nothing changed.

Of course, you understood him. To an extent. You knew the stress he was under. Being expected to perform with absolute perfection week after week would put anyone under intense pressure.

You should know. You have been there. You are there, in the same situation with your own career. You’d been on tour. You were constantly tired, but still managed to make time for him.

On the other hand, it seemed Lando either didn’t care to make time for you, or couldn’t manage his time.

It didn’t matter either way. You were done with this. With him. You felt like he didn’t give a single fuck about you anymore and it was mentally draining you. Despite your desperate attempts at keeping your relationship afloat, the thin ice that was upholding the relationship had been slowly cracking over the last few months, and tonight was the fatal fissure. You were drowning in the ice cold water. Alone.

You sat in your dressing room, still in the sparkling dress you’d just run off stage in. You wiped the makeup from your face. The tears made that easier.

Lando cautiously opened the door, the guilt and regret settling heavy on his shoulders when he sees the state of you through the mirror. You make brief eye contact with him in the reflection, and continue as if you never saw him.

“Y/n,” he started, remorse dripping from his voice. You don’t reply. “Baby, I’m so sorry.” He apologized, but the words no longer meant anything to you. He’d said them so many times that they became insignificant.

He moved across the room to give you a hug. You dodge his touch, jumping from your seat. He looks hurt at the gesture, but for the first time, you can’t bring yourself to care about how he feels.

“Y/n, I fucked up. I know. Please,” he pleaded. Something between a scoff and a laugh came from your mouth. You wiped the tears from your face with the heel of your hand. “Your words don’t mean shit to me anymore.” Nothing was funny, but you laughed. You shook your head. “Do you know how hard this was? To get our schedules to line up like this?” You left a space for him to answer, but he said nothing. “I had to persuade my team for weeks, Lando. Weeks.” He just stared at you, his brows pulled together ever so slightly. “And you don’t even seem to care.” You threw your arms out to the side, your voice cracking.

“Don’t- don’t say that. I do care. I care about you.” He reached for you again, but you took a step back to avoid his grasp. “You do a pretty shit job of showing it.” You fire back.

Lando scoffed. “What do you want from me?!” He demanded. You take a deep breath. “To try. Like you said you would the first time we had this conversation, remember?” Your voice wobbles from the tears that you’re struggling to hold back.

Lando rolls his eyes. Turning away from you he muttered an, “oh my god,” as if you were crazy for thinking he was in the wrong. “This is insane. I have a job and it always comes first.” You cross your arms over your chest. “I have a job too, but the difference is: I make time for you.” You point an accusatory finger at him.

He shook his head. “You don’t get it. It’s not the same for you. No one is expecting you to be perfect every single weekend.”

That gets a laugh out of you. A hysterical breakdown that confused Lando. “You don’t think people expect perfection from me?” He doesn’t answer the question. “Get out. Get out. I don’t want to see you again. I don’t want to hear from you again. I’m done with you.”

It was Lando’s turn to laugh. The sound mocked you. “What? Over something as small as this? C’mon, you’re not being reasonable.” There it was again, the feeling that he was calling you crazy.

“It’s not about this one situation, it’s about the whole principle of the matter. You’re putting zero effort into this relationship and it’s killing me. And I don’t care if you think I’m being unreasonable because I’ve made up my mind. I’m done with you.” Lando stared, waiting for you to take back what you said, but it was never going to come. Lando scoffed a final time and left the dressing room.

While the weight of the relationship had been taken off your shoulders, your legs couldn’t uphold the weight of your heartbreak any longer. You fell to the floor, hugging your arms around yourself as your own sobs shook your body.

You didn’t hear the door open, but soon felt the arms of someone around you. “No,” you hiccup, pushing the person away, assuming it was Lando. “Hey, it’s just me.” The voice belonged to one of your backup dancers and close friend, kiké, and you settled into his arms as he comforted your broken form.

[lustlovehart]

Might've sent this already but I saw it in my notes while looking for something, so just ignore if you've already seen it.

Can you imagine the reader getting sick while they're with the monsters? I can imagine Riddle and Cater being utterly helpless trying to get to Trey, Ace or Deuce as soon as they realize it. Oh after getting us the proper care I can imagine Riddle inch his spectral hand close to our forehead to cool even a bit of our fever. I don't know how zombies work that much but I'm all for pathetic boys so I can imagine their limbs coming off while trying to carry us inside if they couldn't find Trey immediately.

Out of Octavinelle boys the only one who'd have much knowledge about humans would be Azul and if he is out to get whatever plants/medicine necessary in his limited human form, tweels would be a disaster let's be honest they don't see sick things in the sea cuz those creatures usually die so quickly from the harsh environment so they are out of their element, their cold skin might help with fever but too much would make it even worse. I can see Floyd trying to squeeze us to make it better but after seeing it made us nauseous he just stops. Jade is trying to remember his land facts with a serious face all the while.

Sickness Kills, Sickness no more

Another adorable idea!! I really don’t know what else to add on it as I could really see what you said about how they react!!! (≧◡≦) ♡. If it’s a simple cold, i’m sure you could just tough it out and they would never notice. Buut, if it’s genuinely something detrimental to your health, they begin to notice and panic. I thought this was cute and wrote something up! I really wanted to write Chenya in this post, but after those few Chenya asks in the past, current;t struggling on what to make him😭 Will it be kitsune or nekomata, a struggle indeed 😞

CW: (Heavy) Obsession, Jealousy, Rook is being a weirdo, Reader Has a high fever, They want to turn you into a monster too, They change your clothes for you, Implied/Wanting Murder and Actual murder (Fellow, Neige and Skully)

Featuring: Heartslaybul, Savanaclaw (Jack mentioned), Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Idia, Diasmonia, Rollo, Fellow, Skully, Neige

Heartslaybul might be the best location to fall ill actually! As all of them are formerly human, unlike the others. But… that just aids them in their guilt so it might have backfired for them. Riddles' experience as a Doctor has him feeling the most responsible for your well-being. How utterly careless… he let you get sick. What would his mother think of him? What will you think of him?

Ace and Deuce are practically rushing around to grab whatever Riddle orders for your health. When they find themself not fetching stuff and standing by your side, Ace is cursing you to stay alive, even without magic, he’ll find a way. Deuce is placing his forehead on yours, hoping his cool (dead) skin will calm down that fever. When your warmth reminds him of his failures, all he can do is sit by your side and hope you’ll say anything to him.

Trey stands next to you, being the one who moniters your body temperature when Riddle is incapable of taking human form. He’ll be silent attempting to calm everyone down, but he can’t be very useful in that regard when the bolts in his neck trickle electricity every now and then (he has shocked everyone else from stress) or even when his limbs fall out of place fromte pressure, though not nearly enough as Deuce’s; they continue to detach and crawl over to you, their own mind having them pat your head or hold your hand.

Cater… Is very scarce in this case. As you heave in your hot and cold body, you think he doesn’t care very much, which you don’t mind, everyone else is much too worried. Little do you know Cater was given the special mission of collecting life force if you end up falling to this disease. He’s determined to do just that. They’ll have everything prepared for your new afterlife. When he comes back, you can only quirk a brow at the smile he has on his false face.

It was only a backup plan… But your laugh, the way the sun hits you reminds them you’re just a frail human. Perhaps… It’d be better if you’d never have to suffer in that mortal body. Stay forever in the shadows of this hospital.

Savanaclaw is only a third qualified, as Ruggie has never been human, and Leona was cared for by other people whenever he was ill. Their biggest problem when you fall sick is they don’t really have the proper knowledge nor materials to deal with it, unlike Heartslaybul who consists of all humans, and quite literally reside in a hospital.

When your heaves grow heavier and heavier with each passing moment, Leona rests you on his tomb (if you were conscious you would’ve freaked out at him, but luckily, you’re not), taking whatever water they can salvage from Savanaclaw, they try their best to cool your fever down. The pale wraps Leona already has on your body increase in quantity, acting as makeshift blankets while he brushes your fevered face.

Meanwhile Ruggie is the one who makes mad dashes around people houses, stealing whatever possible fix there is for illnesses. When Leona is busy cooling you down within whatever his power gives, Ruggie takes his place by your side tending to your every need, albeit with confusion.

If even for a moment you cough a little too hard, or even breath too rough, their backup plan in case all fails comes closer. Though, this backup plan would be their first, if it wasn’t for a certain—hunter… Telling them you’d hate them for all time. But even then, what’s affection if a little hate isn’t there? In truth, they wouldn't mind if you despised them, as long as you’re safe.

Then again, the act of them taking the vitality of innocents for your survival, would no doubt put guilt in your heart.

When you get better, all they can think about when they look at you is how they won’t be there when you really need assistance… What better way than to leave you in this tomb with a mummy?? After all, those bandages are the only sliver of protection you have from being killed so easily… Perhaps they should ask him, how to make you stay for eternity.

Octavinelle is the exact opposite of Heartslaybul it’s actually kinda funny. (Not to them, oh goodness how do they help fevers?!?). You being sick is one of the few times Jade’s so serious, the lack of double-sided compliments scaring you more than your fever. While Floyd is desperately squeezing the cold from his body into your skin, Jade comes from behind and holds your face in his hands, cooling it down from the oceans temperature. Neither attempt works, but they don’t stop.

Azul is urgently collecting every form of marine medicinal herb there is in the sea, even going true form and grabbing ingredients the size of ships. He’ll even do the wretched ‘running’ on land if it means getting you what you need. Magic can only take him so far, those human books he read didn’t need to tell him, he already knows as much.

When Azul comes back he hurriedly tells them to lay you down for treatment, having the two diligently perform every task he asks them. Jade isn’t cracking back-handed jokes and Floyd is entirely focused and still, only time to time fidgeting as he waits. If you weren’t so dazed you’d question if they were really the sea monsters you know.

The sounds of splashing water, the feeling of hands, tentacles, and tails all simultaneously work on ridding that fever. Somehow, it lulls you to sleep.

Your body remains floating in the water as all of them have you wrapped up in their limbs. When you come to, you realize they must’ve stolen someone’s clothes as a new pair are on you, as your new wardrobe is no longer soaked in sea water. You didn’t notice at first, but as soon as you woke up, their eyes were staring deep into your skin, almost like they’re searing the memory of you well and breathing into their memory.

The longer they look at you, the more they think about you. The dangers on land are so horrible… They never get such scenarios like that in sea… that means you must stay where such illnesses can’t reach you.

When you get sick in Scarabia, Kalim will beg you to make a wish, telling you he can make you better if you just ask. It’s one of the few times you genuinely want to make one, but your voice is much too hoarse for it to come through. You open your mouth and any words are too quiet to be commanded, with each syllable replaced with a cough. While Kalim is fretting over your well-being, Jamil is staring from the side, forked tongue hissing everyone once in a while.

This Jamil is capable of being a proper servant towards other monsters, as he knows their makeup… but with you, it’s a bit of a harder case. You don’t eat humans (he thinks), neither do you have tough skin, or enhanced ability, you are a mortal through and through.

Surprisingly, it’s Kalim who pushes through and knows what to do, albeit only slightly. He’ll tell Jamil you need water, and… and…! He can name some of the materials, but sometimes he trails off. It’s been so long since…

Jamil pinches Kalims ear to recenter his attention before slithering over with the needed supplies. He’s dabbing your face with water, taking a cloth and repeatedly dunking it into the liquid. When he takes the rag to dip back into the pitcher, he halts when you weakly grab at his wrist. It’s a weak sight, a vulnerable one, yet it makes his heart race because of how… weak you look. He watches you take his hand and place it on your forehead, eyes fluttering shut as soon as that cold touch hits you.

Right… Cold blooded…

Kalim wraps you in a makeshift blanket to keep your body warm, yet not too warm, while Jamil continues to switch between both hands to keep you cool, his tail wrapped around you. The touch of your skin on his reminds him just how warm you are.

When you finally get over your ailment, Kalim has you wrapped around himself, hugging you tightly as if you’d disappear. While Jamil isn’t nearly as affectionate, every time you walk around the desert the underlying feeling of eyes following you, persists every second… A silent statement of the danger you face all alone, telling you to stay and never harm yourself again.

Pomefiore with another human, except while not as medically skilled as Riddle, much better than everyone else due to his upbringing. Though, this knowledge gets outshone by Vil and Rook, who somehow, do know how illnesses work.

“Rook, do not caress them so… Just feed them the necessary remedies.” Vil sits by your side, ridding your body of the heavy clothes you adorn, until you’re left in much thinner cloth. All while he glares at the way Rook serandes your sweating face. Even in your current state, you can’t help but judge Rooks poor timing of poetry.

“Ah, amour… Even in such a vulnerable condition... I can’t help but believe your glisten is just as beautiful as yesterdays...” you feel his wispy hand stroke your cheek, wiping away your sweat, whispering something under his breath. If you had the energy, your would’ve walked away, but alas, you don’t. You look back at the ceiling, focusing on a single crack in the flawless interior, hoping the beating in your head would leave.

A particularly hard ache in your head as you lift your hands to hit the pain out, but you’re hands are stopped by Vil and Rook taking hold of each of your limbs. Rook whispers a ‘non non’ while Vil continues dabbing cool water on your skin, reprimanding you for such a harmful action.

All this action has you wondering where Epel could be… Come to daytime, the only interval where all of them are essentially harmless unless in the shadows, Epel finally shows himself when they’re both gone. His face isn’t too visible, as the shadows inside the mansion block out all light. You open your mouth to say something, but it’s quickly covered by an apple, teeth grazing the skin. For a moment you hesitate, but your hunters has you crunch into the fruit. You watch him bring the apple to his eyes, examining the marks before smiling.

“They were so worried about the fever, they forgot about food.” he brings the apple to his own lips, fangs piercing the same place you bit, your bites unionized. You’re none the wiser to Vil and Rook in the shadows, realizing, you don’t deserve an illness like this… It’s simple, just like Epel realized, the fragility of human and deciding to rid himself of that… they shall show you the same ephiany.

Ignihydes Underworld isn’t exactly the type you can wander around in… Which is why when Idia sees you resting your fevered head on his shoulder, he panics at the sight flickering in and out of your body. No… You shouldn’t be dying yet—!

And then he comes to the realization, if you died, without any ties to reality, you and him… Would never be alone again. He’s eerily silent as you cough, eyes darting back and forth at the suggestions in his mind. When you lean into him, he stays quiet, draping part of his cloak around your body, both of you trapped in the warmth of the fabric. If you died peacefully, you wouldn't become a ghost and join Heartslaybul… You wouldn't have to worry about the fear of a brutal death and suffering through life, is this not a mercy for you?

He hugs you tighter the more you cough, an ongoing war in his mind. You would never see those guys again… He wouldn’t have to worry about them, or you preferring their company over his—

“Idia…” your voice is horarse as shivers peak through your speech, “Please…”

Are you asking to die? Are you asking for him to be the one who guides your soul? Are you… wanting to be with him? He’s already preparing a scythe in hand, but when you flip your head up to look him in the eyes, he stops all motion.

“I don’t want to…” … You don’t have to finish for him to know. He knows when a person is desperate to live, and you’re one of them. No matter how much envy consumes him when you’re with those fiends, he won’t take your life, not until you truly wish to pass on.

But, that doesn’t mean the vermin around you are spared from his dark occupation. If anything, Idia will see to it they’re sent to the next life sooner than intended.

Diasmonia is an interesting case… They all do care for your current state, and your health of course, yet there’s a lack of urgency somehow… They cater to your sickness yet do it as if they’re only fawning over you rather than saving your life.

Malleus will take a humanoid form, holding your hands as he hums a tune, retelling tales you’ve told him. Occasionally, he will place his palm on your forehead, humming when he sees it’s just as it was when he last checked. There’s no point in asking what he’s doing, he’ll only smile with a tilt of his head before returning to stone, an ominous ‘Don’t fear, you’ll feel better soon enough.’ If you let him walk out, the cycle will repeat a few hours later, furthering your worries. If you grab onto eroding stone, though, he’ll turn back and hear your whispers, not real words but vespers of some. He’ll take his other rough-edged palm, pulling your hands to his lips. For a moment, you see regret in his eyes, but it doesn’t seem to last long when he says ‘it’ll be over soon.’

Lilia feeds you his food, one that’s… particularly not consumable for humans or monsters, yet he beams as if you’ll accept it. You somehow escape from the quick end you would’ve met had you eaten it, Lilia telling you it’s better to get accustomed to their food if you’re going to stay with them… You remind him you’ll be leaving soon enough, and he laughs… you don’t know why.

Sebek… Is very confusing in his behaviors. One moment he’s asking you ways to slightly ease the pain if he spots you wincing, next he’s flinching like he suddenly remembered something and telling you to stay sick for the monster's well-being. It’s conflicting, especially in your current state, everything only seems dizzying. When you wake up from your rest, you don’t feel any better, but there’s a single flower laid on your chest. It’s not much, but the sweet scent helps you forget your headache for a little.

Silver is the only one who remotely seems worried about your human form withering away. When the others are gone he’s next to you actually performing duties to rid your fever, quickly hiding the materials whenever he senses their arrival. He’ll shush you when everything becomes too much, whispering for you to sleep; he’ll rid you of any bad dreams you could encounter, you’ll only dream of your desires. So please, sleep. You never expected such behavior from the other three at all… Until it dawns on you when they overhear their words.

“Yes, the others only seem to ponder the idea, never act on it.” You hold back a cough while you lean against the wall, listening intently to whatever Malleus tells the other. “I wish to care for them until they’re much too weak to walk anymore.” He doesn’t mean… “And then we’ll do what all of them are much to meek to do.” You feel your body crumple under your weight, built arms scooping you up.

Silver… There’s a sorrowed look in his eyes as he looks at you, mouthing a quiet ‘sorry’ under his breath.

“… When they’re not human, they’ll never wish to leave this castle again.”

In the following days they continue to act like it’s your last day in the living, like your fate is predetermined. Malleus and Lilia lavish you in affection, while Sebek instructs you on ways of the dark as if you’re marrying to his family, albeit with a very distancing tone.

Every time they appear and go, you cling to Silver like your last life line, your grip is weak yet the look in your eyes acts like a command to him, insisting he better you.

And fortunately for you, you’re cured. Unfortunately for them, you’re cured.

Sages Quarter

- Rollo goes about the fever like any other one you’ve had, simply because everytime you have had one, it’s him who diligently sits by your side and aids you. (nevermind Jack… And Neige… He’s your main, he thinks, he hopes.) He’ll calmly talk you through the fever as he dabs your forehead, changes your wear, and feeds you in bed. It’s nothing he's never done before. But that’s only if the fever is normal; if it’s the high type, his demeanor take a shift and he looks much deadlier than he did before, his eye bags only increasing in depth.

“Do not move, you will strain yourself.” He watches you open your mouth, the glint in your eyes the kind you make when you’re about to throw a joke at him. Your pretty voice doesn't come out to his disappointment, only a whisper. The occurrence has him panicking, chastising you for silently laughing at your failed retort. “Is it really that funny that you can’t even talk?” he watches you mouth words, placing his hand on your lips, halting anymore movement.

You must be delirious from the fever, as you don’t protest but rather, smile at him. His chest tightens but he’s not sure from what emotion.

For a moment, your eyes go blank, and he’s swift to remove his palm, leaning into you with urgency. It was only for a moment, anyone else would’ve missed it, but not him; he remembers your eyes. He sighs when he sees the light reappear, taking his spot at your side once more.

“Do you take enjoyment in watching me worry?” you don’t have to do much for him to know you’re laughing at him, the look in your pupils tells him all he needs to know. Your hand hesitantly reaches for his cheek, brushing the back of your hand against pale skin. He takes possession of your palm, inhaling before letting the limb go again.

“M… Maybe… I do…” he can tell the effort it took to say just those few words. He watches you close your eyes before taking his handkerchief from his pocket, neatly folding the fabric on your chest.

“You… Truly—I can’t leave you like this…” … A wonderful thought. Maybe he just shouldn’t leave you, ever.

- Skully is quite literally screaming in panic, what exactly is he meant to do?!?! He basically webs you an entire luxury bedroom in your ail, gently coaxing you to lay down on the swindles of web. He smiles at your acceptance, ready to care for you with diligence! But then he remembers, that the entirety of this forest is dead. Any sign of life is quickly caught by him for consumption, any water has disappeared from streams, and plants have been desecrated for so long.

… How is he supposed to help you?!?

He can’t just wait for a wandering traveler to appear! That takes weeks or even months, he can’t wait that long! And even then, he can’t resort to feeding you the human…! It’s barbaric! For you at least... He does it all the time, but that’s because he’s a monster!! He doesn’t do it in front of you… you already seem so disappointed in him when you spy anyone just caught in his webs, the thought of you only looking at him with more fear in those eyes is unbearable—!

“Skully…—” he jumps at the feeling of you leaning on his shoulder, sweat glistening. He panics at the sight, picking you up with four of his arms while the other two set up your bed again.

“Please stay right here dear! I’ll find a way for you—” You pull his head down, close to your face, staring into all his eyes. You huff a single breath into his ear, the word ‘town’ the only audible thing. He knows himself, he stands out way too much to blend into society, so he really shouldn’t… But he can’t stop himself when he lifts you off the bed, a torn blanket he stole wrapped around him like a cloak.

He really shouldn’t… But for you he would break all manner of rules. Even, if he must be ungentlemanly, and leave a trail of webs and red in his wake, he’ll do it all, for you.

- Fellow turns his haunted head, his false joints bending to walk towards you. Thing strings begin to surround you like snakes, not touching, only moving around you.

“Fellow…? What are you…?”

“Shhhh, I thought sick people like you need sleep? My, don’t worry, you’ll be perfectly safe in my care!” the strings quickly push you towards him, Fellow’s false body and intricately designed clothes sound from the force you bump into him. Your head slowly turns up to look at the puppet, his face only a mere inches away from you. If he was a human, there’s no doubt he would be infected by now.

With each step he takes your hand weakly grabs his neck, the fox-themed marionette humming as the strings behind him follow close behind. You open your mouth to question what exactly he’s doing, but only a cough comes out. For a split second, Fellow looks down at you with pain, remembrance of something, something you don’t know. He’s back to the cunning showman persona just a moment later. With the opening of his fake mouth, words come from him.

“As I said, my valued hunter, I will make sure your visit to my stage…” your eyes flutter shut from exhaustion, your last feeling being hard lips placing a chaste kiss on your temple. “You will never feel fear in your life again, dear puppeteer, for the rest of this stage is yours.”

A puppeteer… One that controls the doll on stage… Is that really the case here?

You wake up to the instant feeling of rejuvenation. Just what happened?

The sight of Fellow cleaning his strings bloodied with crimson, tells you It might be better to not know just how you’ve been cured.

- Neige lets you rest your head on his chest as his ivory wings envelop you in a warm embrace, telling you you’ll get better soon, he promises.

It’s not like you can deny his oath, not without a voice. Even then, if you did have one, you don’t think you would’ve anyway, it would be too cruel to tell Neige you don’t trust him to fix you. He’ll lay pristine white covers over you as he flies out the window, a sense of urgency in the angel that he never feels very often unless it’s about the dear human he’s meant for.

When he gets back, he’ll tend to you with tenderness and a gentle touch. Each dab of a towel is soft yet effective, and every spoon of remedy kind as it goes down. He’s certain it’ll work, especially with each blessing he gives you, it must, it has to.

But it doesn’t. You still lay in bed coughing, your speech disappearing with each passing moment. It doesn’t do good for his heart, and he’s not even a human yet it hurts, it hurts seeing you frail like this. But, then his breathing hitches when he realizes a certain feeling swelling inside him.

Wrath. He’s angry that the world won’t let him help you, even more so that the earth feels to do this to you in the first place. He puts on a smile for you as he sits at your bedside, but the way he clenches his fist tells you there’s something else.

“Neige…—”

“It’s okay! I’m going to fulfill my promise, okay?” his eyes sparkle with determination, and all you can do is nod.

The next time he flies over, word of an all-healing elixir reaches his ears, and so, he finds the seller, giving them the kindest of greetings in disguise. He offers up the price everyone spoke of, telling the vendor about your condition. He's hopeful this will work when he gives it—!

“No.” … What? Any other words the seller had to go out one ear and the other, only the way they looked at him seared into his brain. The next moment is a blur for Neige, only the repeated word of ‘Greed’ repeating in his mind.

… When you get better, he folds his wings far away from you, hopeful that you won’t see the black scattered amongst the ivory. Even then, he will commit all manner of sin, even fall from grace, to make sure you stay so heavenly.

A/n: If MH!Reader got a high fever when Crowley is around, you can bet money they’re coughing into a napkin and shoving it in his face to get him sick. If their illness ends up being something really bad, plague? Even better (for them, not everyone else cuz now you have the worst illness ever??? For Crowley too cuz wtf why’d you try giving him the plague?!?)

[chososdiscordkitten]

How JJK Men Jack Off.

Includes: 𝑯𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒖𝒎𝒂, 𝑪𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒐, 𝑮𝒐𝒋𝒐, 𝑵𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒊, 𝑮𝒆𝒕𝒐, 𝒏𝒅 𝑻𝒐𝒋𝒊 Content: jjk men fondling themselves to the thought of reader hehe, GN!Reader in all of em, will put cws before any of em :>

(a.n) I listened to sooo much country while writing this</3 nsfw under the cut- duh. I can go into severe, painful, thousand word long tangent on Choso's but I didn't wanna make this too long

MDNI

Hiromi Higuruma

Empty office, cursing, established relationship, spit, stressed Hiromi is sexier

I see Hiromi as the kind of guy to not do it so often. Before becoming a sorcerer I think he'd be at work, late at night, alone in the office. Rereading a casefile he couldn't crack and feeling irritation pound in his skull. Not knowing why he was so snappy or curt as of late. Then it would hit, because he hasn't gotten that poison out in a while. He'd do it more as a chore at first. Thinking with one orgasm he’ll be fine for another few days.

But when he’d undo his belt, the metal clinking making his eyebrows furrow. Slow fingers unzipping his slacks the way you'd do it, black briefs greeting him with a semi beneath the fabric. Pulling up the hem of his button up and tucking it between his teeth. The kind of man to not need porn or need to look at magazines to get hard. Hiromi had his imagination and relied on that. 

If we included you in this, he'd remember the last time you were on your knees before him. How your pretty lips wrapped around him perfectly- how your eyes sparkled when you looked up at him. And if we're talking single Hiromi, he’d just picture a hand other than his own. No face hovering above it or anyone in specific.

Hiromi would start off slow, pulling his cock out in his office chair. Feet planted on the ground to keep the chair from swiveling. Looking on his desk to see if there was any lotion or anything to use as lube. The disappointment he felt when he realized he'd have to use his own spit and precum was humbling. But he was already on the road to being fully erect so what could he do?

Taking a light hand onto his tan base, sighing a straggled breath as he felt the warmth fill his palm. Fluttering his eyes closed as his head tipped back onto the plush chair. Lightly stroking his hand up and down to coax a few tears of precum from his pinkening tip. Pulling his hand from his hard cock, blinking his eyes open and gathering saliva on his tongue, spitting it onto his palm before hurrying it back to his cock. Wincing when he felt the spit press against his tip. 

A soft exhale leaving his lungs as his hand squeezed his member. Spreading his spit and the clear precum down his shaft with closed eyes, lips parted as he took soft inhales, gently stroking his cock as he felt his orgasm build. 

Definitely not the type to edge or overstimulate, especially when he's just jacking off to relieve some tension. 

Hiromi tried to make this last as long as he could, his lips threatening to let out small comments to himself as he pictured you between his knees, “Feels so good-” he’d mumble quietly between soft moans. The hem of his shirt falling from his teeth. Trying to keep a slow pace from how good he was feeling. His skin searing beneath his suit as his hand tightened its grip.

Keeping a steady pace, his hand squeezed past his tip, a small ‘hah-’ in the shape of a moan left his lips at the sudden feeling. Eyes shut tight as his hand quickened its pace, the corner of his lips curling into a smile as warmth flooded in his tummy. 

Unashamed whimpers would leave Hiromi’s lips, knowing you weren't there so he didn't have to hold them back. Bottom lip tucked beneath pearly white teeth as he struggled to let out a curse, “F-fuck-” as his wrist turned over, pumping himself at a new angle, his tip grazing his palm as his breathing quickened, eyes cracking open as his orgasm neared its edge. 

Looking for a place to spurt his cum onto- not wanting to make a mess. Only to stand on wobbly feet, cock in hand as he pumped himself, hunched over his desk. Using his other for stability as shaky eyes scanned the top of the dark wood top. Littered in various papers and notes, looking over to the picture of you and him he had framed on his desk. 

With a loud groan his seed spurted out of him without warning, huffs evading his throat as his hand slowed its pace. Softening cock in his palm as the realization he had just spilled his mess onto that stupid case file. Hiromi puffed in annoyance, letting go of his half soft cock and looking down at his mess. Heart pumping in his chest as he felt the small twitches in his body as he came down.

But he still felt that irritation fill his mind, even more now knowing that he'd have to reprint those stupid papers. Knowing when he got home he'd have to do it again and again till that irritation left his veins. 

Choso Kamo

Pillowfucking, phone sex, use of sweet boy, baby and sweetheart, reader talks him through it, mentions of reader getting penetrated but nothing in detail.

With Choso I like to think he doesn't like doing it so often, especially if he has you. It almost feels like a betrayal to him. But when you'd be too busy or too tired, he'd do it. When I picture it I think of him laying on his side, in your shared bed, holding your pillow tightly laying his pj bottoms, no t-shirt so he could feel your scent on his skin.

Choso’s eyes were closed, inhaling deeply into the fabric. Thinking about you as he tried to sleep. And as his thoughts wandered through the memories of you, they trailed to the most intimate ones. Your blushed cheeks that his thumb would caress, the way your eyebrows furrowed when you were close, how soft your hands were against his skin. 

Your gentle touch, the way your eyelashes would clump together when tears of pleasure would fall from your blinking eyes. How your soft skin feels against his lips when he would pepper kisses on every inch of your skin. The way you'd grip onto his back so harshly you’d leave hand prints when you’d finish.

Little by little, inhale by inhale, his cock showed him just how much he missed you. With a harsh inhale of your scent, his cock dripped a tear onto his pants. Softly bucking his hips up into your pillow, trying to soothe the ache that grew between his thighs. Huffing softly as the blood shot directly to his cock, tucking his lip between his teeth as he closed his eyes. Thinking about you- your eyelashes, your lips, the beauty marks that had the privilege of staying on your skin every waking moment. 

Softly whining as his cock brushed against the pillow, he let out an unsatisfied puff from the lack of stimulation on his tip. Sitting up on his knees and pressing his growing bulge against the cloth, keeping his hands on the pillow as he looked down at it. Thinking how pitiful it was that he was considering doing what he was thinking of. He sighed, feeling his hair block the sides of his vision. 

Choso trailed his hands from the sides of the pillow, picturing it was your torso- not the useless cotton. Wondering a hand to his thigh, blinking his eyes shut and picturing it was yours. Undoing the small bow on his checkered pants slowly, like you’d do it. Chest adorned with a roaming blush as his cockhead dribbled.

Pushing the band of his bottoms down as his cock strained against the fabric, a soft whimper leaving his lips at the tug. Wincing when it sprung from his pants, looking down and seeing how hard he was. Pinkening tip dribbling small tears of precum that smeared against the pillow case, easing himself down on the back of his calves, slowly bucking his hips- the tip of his needy cock dragging against the cloth cover. 

Straightening his spine and tipping his head back, his hands on the pillow gripping harshly. Mouth cracking open as soft pants left his throat. Slowly thrusting against the pillow as he pictured it was you- frustrated that the warmth was non existent against his cock. 

Oh but if you were here, it would be so warm. You'd be so warm, so wet just for him, picturing how you'd hug his cock perfectly. 

Bucking into the cloth as his hands clutched onto your pillow harshly, soft grunts leaving his throat, threatening to form your name between them. Rolling his hips against the damp cloth, facing the ceiling as your name slipped from his plump lips. Hazy eyes going to close as he felt the knot in his tummy slip. 

So focused on trying to cum, desperate hips rolling onto the pillow. Half lidded eyes aiming to roll back as he bucked harshly.

A loud ringing coming from his phone a few inches away from him threw Choso from his focus. Seeing your contact photo blaring on the screen was all it took for him to cum, hot cream colored tears spilling on your pillow. Unclenching his hand from the abused cushion and shakily reaching for the phone, small hic’s leaving his chest as he swiped ‘answer’, slowly rolling his hips back as he eased down from his orgasm. 

“Hello?” he sighed breathlessly, the word sounding shaky and almost in a whimper as he hunched over the pillow, his cockhead brushing against his mess. Still hard and unsatisfied as waves of his previous orgasm rippled in his chest. ‘Hey- I know we talked earlier but-’ you were greeted with heavy breaths as you spoke, ‘-I felt the sudden need to call you…?’ your tone turned suspicious as he closed his eyes, his hips threatening to keep thrusting- greedily craving another orgasm. 

He responded with a small whine, the urge to keep bucking into the soiled pillow was too much to think clearly. ‘What's wrong, why are you-’ you smiled with a scoff, “I just- really missed you-” he let out a small ‘ah-’ as he thrusted up into his cum, holding the phone close to his ear as you gathered what he was doing.

‘Awe, I miss you too sweet boy.’ you grinned, Choso huffed at the pet name. He let out a drawn out whine, his sensitive tip fucking into his mess at your words. Choso’s hips followed no set pace as he spilled out louder whines, showing you he was close. ‘There you go baby~’ you spoke sweetly, being able to recognize the adoration filled sounds he made when he was close. He grunted harshly, his hips rolling without pattern as he felt that knot come undone again in his tummy. 

Eyebrows furrowed so tightly it was starting to hurt, dragging his hips back and forth as he worked himself towards another orgasm.

‘Therree you go.’ you hummed, hearing his heaving ease as he muttered small curses between moans. Being thrown into an orgasm almost immediately after the last one. His lower abs contorting as his tip spurt more of his seed onto your pillow, knowing if you had found out he was doing this on what you rested your head on, you wouldn't have been so nice, so he made sure to keep that little tidbit to himself. ‘Feel better?’ you crooned through the phone, hearing the softening whimpers, Choso nodded his head slowly, a droplet of sweat trailing down his temple. 

“Yes-” he took a deep breath, “I feel better- thank you.” he huffed with a shaky tone, cheeks pink and tingling from your kindness, slowly easing off of your pillow, ‘Don't thank me sweetheart, I didn't do nothin.’ he tossed himself onto the bed, phone on his ear as he heard your soft tone. ‘S’late, clean up nd go to bed for me, okay?’ you instructed, hearing him let out a small grunt at the task. Twitching as he laid on his side.

Shaky hands and fluttering eyes as he smiled at your tone, “Okay. Goodnight-” he breathed your name sweetly, hearing you bid a goodbye and hang up. Shivering shoulders and twitching thighs as he eased down from the orgasm you threw him into violently using your words. Sighing as his hair eased onto the pillows, frustrated knowing he'd have to clean up his desperate mess sooner or later.

Satoru Gojo

Public bathroom, phone sex, use of baby, dirty talk (duh), gojo calls reader pretty, insinuated reader also yknow

Gojo for sure squeezes his snake more often than not. Especially when you aren't around to assist, the type to try and use his imagination, eyes squeezed tight trying to focus. But he'd get frustrated enough to pull out his phone, he'd try to find pictures or videos of you he took or ones you've sent him. 

And if we're talking single Gojo, no you included, he would hesitantly watch porn- only for a few minutes, and never a complete video. Too cautious of the whole ‘porn addiction’ thing.

I see him being between missions, tense and walking past the many shops on the sidewalk. A shit eating grin plastered on his face when he saw the banner for a sex store a few feet away. Remembering how you made a comment of how hot you found phone sex. And how it's a shame that he never calls you unless it's a few seconds long to tell you he's on his way home.

Stepping out of the store's entrance, small pink bag in hand as Gojo looked for a public restroom that was secluded. A small giggle left his throat when he found a public family bathroom. Taking his phone out of his pocket and clicking the dial on your contact, waiting as he held the phone on his shoulder. Placing the pink bag on the sink, pulling out the small bottle of lube and ripping the plastic seal.

‘Hey- I was just thinkin’ about you.’ You spoke through the phone, hearing him let out a delighted scoff, “I was thinking about you too~” he smiled through his tone, making you suspicious because he only used that specific tone when he was up to no good. ‘What’re you up to ‘toru?’ you asked with a detective tone, hearing a cap open through the phone. 

“Nothin hehe~” he grinned, placing the phone on the counter and clicking the speaker button. “You remember when you told me how much you liked phone sex?” he grinned shamelessly, pushing his blindfold up and eyeing the small bottle of lube before taking his hand to his clothed cock. Palming it slowly as he waited for your reply. 

‘Toru I'm at work-’ you defended, knowing exactly where this was going. Fondling himself with a smile, “Technically so am I~” he grinned, undoing his belt and the button of his uniform pants. “You don’t even have to do nothin- just talk to me~” he smiled, pulling his cock from his briefs and looking at it awaiting your reply.

‘Are you being serious?’ you asked, rushing out of your cubicle and hushing into the phone. “Mm- I’m being so serious.” he hummed through pursed lips, “Take some responsibility - I'm leaking cause of yooouu~” he smiled, tilting his head as a dribble of precum spilled from his tip. ‘Hold on- lemme go to a bathroom-’ you hurried to the elevator- feeling a sprinkle of shame at how riled up the thought had you.

Gojo spurt out a decent amount of lube onto his hand, a toothy smile adorning his lips as he pressed it to his cock with an over exaggerated moan. Your eyes going wide at the sudden increase of volume. ‘I thought you weren't coming home till friday?’ you urged in a whisper, hearing him let out small whimpers as he stroked himself slowly. “I do, but I missed you sooo-” the word formed into a moan as he squeezed past his tip. Pressing your thighs together hearing the vulgar sounds.

“-so so much.” he finished the sentence, making your face heat up and closing your eyes. Picturing what he looked like right now. Rushing out of the metal doors and into the family bathroom, locking it and pressing your back against the wall as filthy moans invaded your ears. ‘I missed you too, ‘toru.’ You sighed, hearing the loud squelching from his hand. 

“Fuck- say that again.” he whined, Gojo’s eyebrows pinched together as his hand sped up its pace. ‘I missed you so much Satoruuu~’ Playing into his game, hearing a content moan fall from his lips as he thumbed the edge of his tip. Gojo let out a small huff feeling his hand push him up that ledge, ‘You sound so pretty ‘toru~’ You smiled, thighs pressed tightly together as he let a forced laugh leave his lips. 

“I’m sooo close-” he smiled, pressed against the wall next to the sink as he stroked his cock harshly with filthy squelches, knees threatening to buckle. ‘You get all hot nd bothered by just my voice?’ you teased hearing his breathing quicken, “I get all hot nd bothered by just thinking about you-” he huffed, the phone screen turning on and seeing your contact photo, “You're so pretty-” he whined, almost complaining as his back threatened to arch against the wall.

“I wish you were here-” he huffed, hearing you smile through the words, ‘I know- I know.’ you smiled, inching your hand closer to the band of your bottoms, “M’cumming-” he clenched his teeth together, “fuckfuckfuck-” he babbled through pursed lips, teeth gritting with hot ears and cerulean eyes rolling to the back of his skull.

Reaching into your own bottoms to take care of the issue he raised. With a loud grunt he came- spurting his mess onto the filthy floor, uncaring if he made a mess. His shoulders shivering as his pale shaft twitched against his own hand. The sounds of his unashamed whimpers ringing through your ears, ‘Now that you're finished-’ you smiled, shoving your bottoms down and hearing his heaving slow, chest flexing from the ripples of his orgasm ‘Take some responsibility for how you have me.’ you mocked his words.

The words made his softening cock spring back to life, “You're so naughty~” he teased almost in a whine, hearing you let out a content hum, ‘If im naughty then you're filthy.’ you took a sharp inhale, batting your eyes closed as your hand continued slowly. “I am.” he muttered, stroking his cock once more as his ears ate up the small pants and whimpers from the phone. “I am.” he admitted proudly, trying to shake off the sensitivity that rumbled through his cock head.

Kento Nanami

Thinks of reader whilst yknow, cursing, not a lot cws needed, just really, really messy

Yet another man who thinks of it as a chore. I see Nanami coming home from work, no blazer or tie and three buttons undone at the top of his collar. Not having the gall to actually do it anywhere but his home. Exhausted from being on his feet all day, lounging on the couch with a glass of bourbon in his hand. Thinking of things he could do to unwind. It wasn't late enough to go to bed, nor was it early enough- or respectful to call you to see if you'd want to stay the night. 

Offensively manspreading, Nanami’s hand subconsciously trailing to his groin, gently placing his palm onto his bulge as he thought, hesitating to move his hand against himself. Pretending to ponder what he could do other than this.  

Reading would take too much focus and that's precisely what he did not want to do. Tired physically- but not tired enough to sleep. I see Nanami as the type to think about it for a while- toying with the idea of it for way too long. 

And when he finally thinks on it long enough to start thinking about you, he'd put down his glass, palming his semi through the layers of fabric. Softly exhaling at the friction, closing his eyes and dropping his head back as his lips parted. Palming himself over his khakis as his mind flashed through images of you. 

The kind of man to try and picture your face, your laugh, your features. But as a man does, his mind would trail to thoughts of what hid beneath your clothing. And if Nanami doesn’t have you, he'd try and think back to the last porn video he watched, just something to get his imagination going. 

With a frustrated sigh Nanami removed his palm from his buldge, undoing the belt buckle with hurry, unbuttoning his slacks and sliding down the zipper- almost tearing it from how hurried he was to get his stiffening cock out from the fabric.

Gasping softly as his hands hesitantly pushed the band of his briefs down, greeted by his leaking cock that needed a small push to be fully erect. Wrapping his calloused fingers around his thick shaft, exhaling as his digits caressed the trail of precum oozing down his shaft. His breath picked up as his hand lazily stroked his stiff cock. 

Brown eyes struggling to stay open as his lips parted ever so slightly, daring to let out low moans directly from his lungs. 

Unwilling though, they rumbled from his throat as he grazed the pads of his fingers over his crying cockhead. Shivering at the ridges of his finger tips against his cockhead. This man's cock is soooo sensitive, I know it in my bones. 

Tucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he tried holding back the moans, tightening his grip as he stroked softly past his darkening tip. Huffing out of his nose as his other hand started undoing the buttons of his shirt, feeling his skin radiate beneath the blue fabric. Thick fingers struggling with the tiny buttons as the hand on his cock sped up with urge.

As he let the air hit his pecs, a light blush spread on his swelled chest. His lungs threatened to falter, attempting to remind himself to breathe. 

Huffing heavily as his hand undid four buttons before clutching onto the edge of the couch tightly, knuckles turning white as his breathing quickened to pants. His vision went dizzy behind closed eyes picturing you, the knot in his tummy tightening little by little. 

Nanami’s pink tip oozing precum assisted his tight fist as he stroked himself, a low whimper leaving his throat as his head ducked forward, muttering small curses between heavy breaths as his hips bucked into his fist lazily. Gritting his teeth as he hung his head back onto the couch. Throat dry from his heavy pants, a small shiver rumbling through his shoulders as his fist squeezed past his tip.

Nose scrunched and eyes half closed, a sliver of light invading his pupils as he pushed himself past his climax. Shoulders trembling as he slowed his hand on his cock, working himself through the high. Mouth hung open in a dry moan as the feverish seed coated his hard working hand. So much of it that it trickled down to his twitching balls. 

Groaning as the mess coated his cock, feeling it soften in his palm as he stroked it slowly- eyes threatening to roll back from the oversensitivity. Heavy breaths and twitching shoulders as he overworked himself for the second time that day. Pumping his semi soft cock to try to draw out the overwhelming bliss he felt at that moment.

Holding onto his soft member as he looked down, distraught at the mess that coated his hand and his slacks. Making a note to scold you for how desperate you had him before he got up to shower. Feeling his shirt stick to his back from how worked up he was.  

Suguru Geto

Established relationship, dirty talk, wakes up horny ;~;- he looks at a pic of reader with HIS SUBSTANCE on their face, spit, cursing, mentions of face fucking 

With Geto I think he tries to be clean with it- in the shower or make sure to shoot his load onto something to avoid making a mess. I see him having trouble staying asleep, huffing and puffing. Tossing and turning as he tried to find a solution unconsciously. Blinking his eyes open, confused as to why he was sweating in his sleep.

Sitting up and parting his lips trying to soothe the dry mouth he woke up to. Only to look down with furrowed eyebrows and squinted eyes, a groaning huff from his chest ignoring the tent in his boxers as he looked over at the clock. 3:45 am.

He’d lay back down and try to go back to sleep. Not wanting to find the energy to deal with the paining bulge in his boxers. Switching positions, squeezing his eyes shut as he toyed with the idea.

But you know what Geto thought was a better solution than dealing with it himself? 

Looking over to the you shaped bump below the blankets, seeing you steadily breathing as he called your name once, too quiet for you to hear. Wondering why you weren't sweating just as much as he was. Huffing at your sleeping state, sitting there for a few seconds, blinking away the sparks of sleep he wasn't able to melt back into. 

Looking back down to the betrayal that chose to wake him up, moving his lips to the side as he picked up his phone from his nightstand. Easing off of the bed slowly as he stepped out of the bedroom, not wanting to wake you.

Walking towards the guest bathroom- wanting to keep as many walls between you and him as possible so you wouldn't stir awake. Standing in the dim bathroom, the moon illuminating the porcelain sink as Geto unlocked his phone. Gently palming the hard on that was bulging in his boxers as though he was a teenage boy. Almost scolding himself for not being able to control himself as he slept next to you. 

His eyes scanning the filthy pictures he took of you. Gripping his fingers around his clothed cock that threatened to make a mess in his boxers. Taking his hand from his bulge and holding his phone in the other. Geto’s free hand making quick work of his boxers and slipping them past his thighs, landing on the ground with a hiss from his lips at the cold air hitting his crying tip, his thumb scrolling as he tried finding the perfect picture. 

Licking his bottom lip as he placed his hand on his bare pale shaft with a sigh, looking at the photo splayed in full screen on his phone. His seed coating your cheeks, your nose, and most of it on your tongue as you looked up into the camera with wonderfilled eyes. That was more than enough to pull his hand from his cock and spit onto it harshly. Not having the patience- nor caring enough to actually go get lube from the bedroom. 

Teeth gritted as Geto stroked his cock- his grasp tight to make this as quick as he could. Low eyes looking directly to his phone, holding his grunts in his chest as he tucked his lip between his teeth. Working his hand against his shaft roughly, squeezing past his tip as he spread his precum down his member. The hazy state of his mind assisting with how good this felt. 

Placing his brightly lit phone onto the porcelain as he gripped onto the ledge of the sink, trying his best to hold back the choked moans that he knew would be too loud for this time of night. 

His hand was rough, and quick as he fondled his painful erection. Feeling his eyes roll to the back of his head as he fluttered them closed. Lips parting as a soft grunt left them, picturing you were on your knees below him, practically able to feel your warmth radiate onto his cock. So in detail that his lips taunted to form the praises he’d spout to you.

Knees threatening to buckle as he formed the words, “That's it-” he whispered, hand clutching onto the edge of the sink harshly, the tips of his fingers turning white from the lack of blood flowing to them. “Just like that.” his voice was louder- clear enough to make his cheeks tingle from the embarrassment of what he was doing right now.

Geto let out a hushed whimper from trying to contain his moans, leaning his hips over the sink as he felt himself ascend to the pinnacle he woke up to take care of. His hand made vulgar squelching from how hard he was working himself, fist so tight that he was practically strangling his cock.

Holding his fist onto the porcelain as he angled his hips higher, thrusting back and forth violently as he let out choked grunts. Treating his fist as though it was you he was mouth fucking, not his hand. Lowering his head down- strands of raven hair falling to the sides of his profile as his eyebrows knitted together, mouth hung open in a drawn out grunt. Raising his hips as he angled the tip of his cock into the sink. 

Breathing in ragged breaths as he muttered a “M’cumming-” over and over again. With a louder grunt than he expected- he threw himself off the ledge of his orgasm, eyes squeezed tight as his hips refused to falter in how quickly he was thrusting into his fist. 

Harsh hips slamming his cock into his hand, “That's it-” he spat through gritted teeth, mind fogged as he tried wrangling his overwhelmed senses. Feeling himself come down from the orgasm he pulled from deep in his lower tummy. His hips slowing their patternless thrusts, his bottom lip trembling as he overworked his cock.

Hesitatingly slowing his hips as his cock softened in his hand, softly humming as he eased his grip against the sink. Ragged breaths leaving his chest as he tried to contain the whimpers that he had been holding in since the beginning, his head pounding from the forced silence.

Hazy eyes looking down to the mess he spilled onto the porcelain, barely able to see it from the lack of light. Exhaling quickly as he reached the hand that was clutched on the edge of the sink to the metal knobs, watching as the water washed away his seed. 

Reaching for a decorative hand towel and holding it beneath the warm water. Cleaning his shaft slowly with a hiss before washing his hands. Dying them with the matching hand towel. Tossing them into an empty hamper and lazily pulling up his briefs. Acting like this was no big deal as he walked back into the bedroom. Feeling at peace as he drifted back to sleep.

Toji Zenin

Cold showers, he feels things for reader, 2 orgasms, cursing

Another man who prefers not to make a mess, after a few attempts of jacking off in other places, Toji found it easier to get it over with in the shower. I see him as the type to Pavlov himself into associating showers with orgasms- which makes me laugh in all honesty. So much so that he thought the solution would be cold showers. But those never worked. 

Slowly lathering himself with soap as he kept his eyes closed, the cold water against his skin as he thought of what he was to do after this. Making a sloppy mental checklist as his mind trailed to thoughts of you. Of the last time he saw you, and how his chest swelled knowing he was going to see you later that day earning his soft cock to respond with a mindless jump. 

Water making his chest glisten, accentuating the ridges of his abs as he tried fighting off the filth that invaded his mind.

Irking his head to the side as he felt that specific warmth pool in his lower tummy. Sucking his teeth sharply as the cold water washed off the soap bubbles from his body. Cracking his eyes open in defeat, cock raising into a semi as he pushed back the hair that stuck onto his forehead. Nodding his head ‘no’ back and forth at the stupidity of his cock getting hard by just the thought of you.

Placing his calloused hand on his fat shaft, closing his eyes once more as the water provided him with more than enough lubricant. Heart pounding in his chest as his thumb rubbed against the edge of his reddening cockhead. Toji’s scarred lips pressed tightly together as he tried holding back grunts from deep in his chest. 

Furrowing his eyebrows- trying to put on a farce of this not feeling like anything for no one but his pride. Toji’s mind went blank as he stroked himself, wrist turning over his tip as his other hand planted onto the wall, trying to keep his balance. Clenching his jaw as his precum blended in with the running cold water.

Toji always tried to make it quick- but his cock never agreed. Often taking 20-30 minute showers trying to make himself finish, not because he couldn't- but he'd try to think of nothing as he came. Not wanting to condition himself into actually liking you.

Trying to keep his mind blank as he fought off the conquering thoughts of you. His eyebrows threatened to unfurrow as he felt himself succumb to those heartfelt thoughts. A small grunt left Toji’s parting lips, thankful it was disguised by the running water. 

Tightening the grip on his cock as he put more power behind his heavy stroked. Ducking his head as his hair stuck onto his temple, holding his hand on the wall as his lungs started panting, his fist quickening its harsh movements, mind full of the sweetest poison you planted into his brain. 

“Fuckk-” Toji drew out slowly, his hand squelching past his fat tip as his abs clenched, trying to catch his breath as his unforgiving hand refused to listen to his mind.

His calves burning from how hard he was flexing his muscles- all of his focus drawn to cumming as the water pulsed against the crown of his head. Lips parted and eyebrows pinched upwards, nose crinkled as he felt the premature orgasm rip through him. Heavy pants between grunts as his seed gushed from his tip, disappearing down the drain. Mouth hung open in an ‘O’ as his hand slowed its movements. 

Being able to clear his clouded mind as his fist worked him down. Catching his breath as his still hard cock pulsed in his hand. Groaning in frustration at the need to cum again. Almost spiteful, he tightened his grip once more on his cock, thighs spasming as he overstimulated his cockhead. His eyes blinked to the back of his head as he pulled his focus from his shaft to his tip. 

Toji’s expression contorted into a scowl, clearer grunts leaving his rasped throat as he pulled himself into another orgasm, pushing his hand off the wall and leaning onto the cold tile. His head pressed against the damp wall as his knees dared to fold, mouth hung open once more as the cold water trickled down his searing skin.

A drawn out string of curses as his balls tightened, all but pouting, he came to the intruding thoughts of you. Practically hyperventilating as a loud grunt left his sweltering chest. 

Toji’s cum oozing out of his tip, sighing contently between throaty grunts. Working himself past the pinnacle the thought of you brought him to. Cursing you mentally for how you had him. Heart pounding so hard it was painful, trying to fill his lungs with air as his mouth hung open in a soundless moan. Taking his hand from his softening cock as he leaned into the wall, swallowing harshly as he steadied his breath. Turning to face the shower head, his shaky hand reached for the body wash once more, nodding his head ‘no’ to himself as the irked feeling seeped into his mind again. Lathering up his body as he washed off the sweat that mixed with the freezing water.

-

I had so much fun writing this. If only y'all saw how much p0rn I watched trying to study men jorking it. my internet searches were insane bruh. the ciggie I lit after I posted this was like a reward

[aaronsguccitie]

And another!!

hotch playing tea time with his daughter and he’s forced to wear tiaras, sit in a small chair, and drink his imaginary tea with his pinky up and mom!reader is just laughing and sneaks a picture to send to the team

- 💗

💗 anon, you shall get a hundred kisses <3

Tea time

Cw: fem!mom!reader, fluff, girl dad Aaron, no use of yn, Aaron being a complete pushover

Word count: 1.2k

----

His knees ache.

Come to think of it, so does his back. Sitting cramped in a plastic pink chair, folded nearly in half will do that to him, Aaron thinks. 

His stuffed companions don’t seem to suffer from the same fate. They’re happily drinking their tea and enjoying their biscuits, much like Aaron is supposed to be doing. He almost envies the way their furry legs rest comfortably on their matching pink chairs.

“Purple or pink?” Olivia asks him, holding out two tiaras. 

Aaron eyes the sharp combs at the end of them with mild terror. He opens his mouth to decline—he almost does, really—but Olivia’s eyes are wide and impatient, exactly like yours. 

The protest gets trapped in his throat. 

“Uhh, don’t you have a blue one?” He asks, mentally kicking himself. “I seem to remember buying you a blue tiara.”

“Nope! Purple or pink?” Olivia asks again. Her own tiara rests lopsidedly on her head, its purple jewels catching the sunlight streaming in through her bedroom window. The color matches with her Princess Rapunzel dress he’d gotten her at Disney World.

Well, at least nobody else is gonna see him in it.

“Purple,” Aaron decides. “So I can match with you, won’t that be nice?”

“But you won’t be the princess, too,” his daughter says. A small frown pulls her brows together, exactly the same as his—and way too stern for a four-year-old. Aaron gently touches the scrunch until it fades. “I’m the only princess.”

“Of course,” Aaron agrees softly. He adjusts her lopsided crown. “I’ll be the prince, is that okay?”

“No.” Olivia giggles, two of his dimples appearing in her cheeks. “Silly Daddy. You’ll be the king!” She says as she grabs the purple tiara and rises on her tiptoes, trying to reach the top of his head.

Aaron bends his neck down, a hand going to her waist to steady her until her heels touch the ground again. “How could I have forgotten,” he murmurs, his small smile turning into a wince when the combs of the tiara dig against his scalp. He bites down on his tongue to trap the hiss in his throat, forcibly stretching his lips into another smile as he looks up at Olivia with mildly watering eyes.

“How do I look?”

“Kingly.” His daughter giggles. Aaron blinks back the blurriness in his vision, smiling as Olivia picks up her purple fairy wand and waves it around theatrically before she clears her throat, “And now I dec—del…delcare—”

“Declare.”

“—declare it’s time for teatime!”

She sets down her wand and pours the very strong concoction of tap water into Aaron’s teacup, her tongue peeking out as she holds the lid of the teapot to keep it steady. Some of the faux tea spills over the rim and splashes onto his sweatpants, turning the fabric into a darker gray as Olivia hands him a plate of plastic cake when she’s done.

Aaron accepts it graciously. “Thank you, sweetheart.” He places the plate next to his tea and fumbles for the teacup, struggling to hook his finger through the handle.

“Y’welcome,” Olivia mumbles, too busy with pouring the rest of her guests’ tea.

Did they poke the hole with a needle? Aaron resigns himself to picking up the teacup from its sides. It gets swallowed up by his hands, his fingers overlapping around its circumference. 

“Being a hostess is hard work, isn’t it?” He asks as he watches her hand out cake slices to their stuffed companions.

“Mommy does it an’ she’s good at it.”

“She is,” Aaron chuckles, “guess you got that from her, huh?”

“Mhm.” Olivia finally plops down onto her chair, tilting her crown again as she reaches for her own teacup with a deep sigh.

“So how have you been ruling over your subjects?” Aaron asks seriously. He turns to the stuffed animals lining the table; her teddy and Jack’s orca and a battered unicorn from Penelope, “Are you all satisfied with the way Princess Livvy is treating you?”

“Princess Olivia, Daddy.” She corrects, frowning a little and continuing again before Aaron can remedy his mistake. “They say we go t’bed too early,” Olivia pouts.

“Do they? Well,” he brings the teacup to his lips again, pretending to take a sip, “I say—”

“Daddy, y’have to do this,” Olivia interrupts, picking up her own teacup and sticking out her pinky. She looks at Aaron expectantly.

“Oh, forgive me.” Aaron says and sticks his out, too. “Is that better?”

A muffled laugh catches his attention. That in itself makes him smile, but when he hears the not so subtle click of a camera, his eyes flick to you.

Caught.

You bite your lip and throw him a wink, disappearing behind the door frame with your phone held in your hand.

Aaron turns back to Olivia as he sets down his teacup. “I’m so sorry, your highness, may I be excused for a moment?”

“You’ll come back?” She frowns, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. Aaron stifles a laugh; his daughter through and through.

“Yes, baby.” He promises.

Her frown clears. “Okay.”

Aaron eagerly gets up from the cramped chair, his knees cracking when he straightens. He stifles a wince and leaves Olivia’s bedroom, immediately finding you in the hallway just outside. There’s a grin on your face as you look down at your phone, thumbs flying over the screen.

You hear him and look up, your smile turning sheepish as you click your phone shut and slide it into your back pocket.

He crosses over to you, his arms wrapping around your body, hands dipping into your pockets to search for your phone.

“Delete that.” Aaron murmurs.

You slap his hands away. “Delete what?”

“The picture.” He lifts his brow. Your mouth drops open, no doubt to deny it, and he cuts across you, “I know you took one, honey, don’t play dumb.”

The corner of your lip pinches as you try to hold back a wider smile. “That’s a cute crown. But sorry, your majesty,” you bow, “it’s already been sent to the group chat.”

“Jesus Christ.” Aaron groans, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

A grin splits your face in half. You pull his hands away from his eyes, gently holding them in your own. “So does that make me queen now?” 

“It makes you a traitor. I’ll call Garcia about this.”

You blow a raspberry in his face. “Please. She’s the first one to back it up on all her devices. You’re too late, bossman,” you straighten his tiara.

Aaron winces as the combs dig in deeper. He gently holds your wrist, his scalp just shy of weeping blood.

Your eyes shine as you press your lips together, the corners of them turning up as you try in vain to hold back a smile. “You look very kingly, your majesty.” The edges of your voice quiver with a laugh.

Aaron sighs. “Your daughter said the same.” He drones flatly.

You can no longer hold back your laughter.

[hoe4hotchner]

Farewell, My Friend | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader (x Jack) | WC: 1.9k | CW: Angst, Pet loss, grief, crying, vet scene, doggy funeral scene, discussions of death with child

A/N: Friday night is not for partying, it's for crying. At least I'm crying. This is really really sad

The house was quiet when you woke up, something felt off. Normally, the faintest sound or smell of food would have your dog’s nose twitching, his head lifting from his basket with a spark of interest waiting for you to call for him. But now, he just lay there, curled tightly, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. You’d seen him slowing down over the past few months, but this — this was different. His favorite treats lay untouched beside him, and his eyes, once bright and alert, seemed glassy and grey — they were distant. He didn’t even lift his head when you crouched beside him, concern settling into an aching certainty that you knew what was about to happen.

“Hey, buddy…” Your voice trembled as you reached out, smoothing a gentle hand over his fur. His coat was still warm, still soft, but you could feel the frailty in his bones. He blinked slowly, giving you the faintest flicker of acknowledgment. A tear slipped down your cheek, your heart breaking at the sight of him so still, so quiet.

Lowering yourself onto the floor, you lay next to his basket, bringing your face close to his, close enough that you could feel his warm breaths against your skin. You pressed a hand to his back, feeling the gentle rise and fall beneath your fingertips. “It’s okay,” you whispered, voice cracking. “You’ve been so good… You’ve taken such good care of us. We’ll be fine, okay? I’ll be okay.” But the words were more for you than for him, an attempt to soothe the fear settling in your chest. You’d known this day would come eventually, but knowing hadn’t made it any easier.

Tears spilled down, falling onto the blanket under him as you continued to stroke his back, trying to hold onto every last moment. You didn’t want him to see you fall apart, to know how deeply this hurt. But the silence was broken by a small voice behind you.

“Why are you crying?”

You turned, seeing Jack standing a few steps away, his little face filled with confusion and concern. His eyes flicked between you and the dog, searching for an answer. For a moment, you struggled to find the words, feeling the hurt build up even stronger.

Swallowing thickly, you wiped your eyes and patted the floor beside you. “Come here, buddy,” you said gently, and Jack approached slowly, glancing down at the quiet figure in the basket, his brow furrowing in that thoughtful way that reminded you so much of his father.

“You remember how we talked about how some dogs get very, very old?” you said softly, keeping your voice steady for his sake.

Jack nodded, his small hand reaching out hesitantly to stroke the dog’s fur. “Yeah,” he whispered, his eyes widening as he began to understand.

You took a breath, voice shaking as you tried to explain. “When dogs get really old, sometimes they go to sleep… and they don’t wake up. They go to a place where they’re young again, where they don’t hurt anymore, and they get to run around and play all day. We call it heaven.”

Jack’s face crumpled, and he bit his lip, looking back at the dog with a quiet, sad understanding that seemed beyond his years — he wasn't supposed to feel this heartbreak yet. “He’s going to heaven?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, unable to hold back the tears that slipped down your cheeks. Reaching over, you gently pulled him close, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as he rested his head against you. His small hand remained on your dog’s fur, his fingers petting softly, as though trying to say goodbye in his own way.

With trembling hands, you reached for your phone, swallowing hard as you typed out the message to Hotch, who was away on a case. The words felt heavy, final, but you knew he needed to know — he needed to know what he would be coming home to.

It’s time.

The drive to the vet’s office felt like an eternity. Jack sat in the passenger seat, holding your hand tightly. Your dog was cradled in a soft blanket in the backseat, and you stole glances at him in the rearview mirror ever so often. Each look tore at your heart a little more, seeing the once-lively dog lying so still, his head resting on the edge of the seat as if he was simply exhausted.

When you finally arrived, the vet greeted you with gentle understanding, leading you both to a small room filled immediately — away from prying eyes. The room was clearly designed for moments like these with its soft lighting and cozy atmosphere. The vet left you alone as he gave you a quiet moment to say goodbye.

You knelt down on the floor, pulling your dog into your arms as you pressed a tender kiss to his forehead. He lay peacefully, his breathing slow and shallow, as though he understood. Jack knelt beside you, his little hand resting gently on his furry head, his expression mirroring yours. You murmured soft words of love and gratitude, stroking his fur and promising him he’d always be part of your family.

The vet eventually came back into the room, moving with a gentle care that reassured you both. He crouched down, speaking softly as he prepared for the procedure, describing each step with the kind of gentleness reserved for grieving souls. When he asked if you were ready, you managed a small nod, feeling your voice catch in your throat. Jack sniffled quietly but stayed close, pressing into your side, his hand tightening around yours.

The vet administered a gentle sedative first, to relax him, and you felt your dog lean a little heavier against you, his breaths slowing as he began to drift. You whispered to him, your voice choked but steady: It’s okay, buddy… you’re such a good boy…

Finally, the vet administered the final injection, and you held him tighter, feeling each heartbeat grow softer, each breath fading. Jack leaned his head against you, and you both stayed close, united in your grief. You felt his heart stop, his warmth still lingering in your arms. In that stillness, it felt as if a piece of you had gone with him. But as you pressed your cheek to his fur one last time, there was a gentle peace in knowing he was no longer in pain, that his final moments had been filled with love and comfort. The vet made his final checks before officially pronouncing that he had passed peacefully.

Later, when you and Jack had returned home, your dog was gently wrapped in a soft blanket — his favorite blanket, his familiar weight in your arms was comforting despite the sorrow you felt deep within your bones.

The house felt different, quieter somehow, as if even the walls understood what had been lost this afternoon. Together, you stepped out into the backyard, where the last warm light of the sun filtered gently through the trees, casting a golden glow over the grass. It was the same light your dog had once basked in on lazy afternoons, rolling in the grass or lying happily in the sun’s warmth.

Jack stood beside you, watching as you began to dig at the spot you’d chosen near the edge of the yard. Each shovel of dirt felt heavier than the last, the weight of your grief pressing down on every movement. After a moment, Jack knelt beside you, he'd found his toy shovel in the shed to help with the work — the one he reserved for when he was helping Aaron garden. He didn’t speak much, just stayed close, occasionally brushing his arm against yours as he mirrored your movements in silence.

Finally, the hole was ready, and with a trembling breath, you lowered your dog into the small grave, cradling him with the same gentleness you’d shown him every day. Jack reached into his pocket, pulling out a small toy — a little car he’d cherished. Without hesitation, he placed it beside your dog, his hand lingering for a moment as he whispered, “Goodbye, buddy.”

You knelt beside him, saying your own goodbye, your voice catching as you murmured a final, heartfelt thank-you for all the love he’d given. Tears slipped down your cheeks, falling freely, and for a moment, you closed your eyes, remembering the joy, the laughter, the countless memories he’d been part of. The pain was raw, but the gratitude was there, too.

Jack, seeing your tears, wrapped his small arm around your torso, leaning into you with a tenderness that broke and soothed you all at once. “It’s okay,” he whispered softly, his voice filled with a compassion far beyond his years — he had learned from his dad. You felt his small hand resting on your back, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to lean into his comfort, finding strength in the quiet support of a little boy, who you'd come to love as if he were your own.

Night had fallen, wrapping the world in darkness, the house was finally still. Jack was fast asleep, his form curled up peacefully, unaware of the grief settling over you. Out on the porch, you stared at the patch of freshly turned earth in the backyard, the collar of your beloved dog held tightly in your hands. The metal of his tags pressed against your palm, their familiar jingle echoing faintly in your mind, bringing with it a flood of memories and tears.

The tears slipped silently down your cheeks as the moments you’d shared together played through your mind, each one bittersweet. You remembered the warmth of his body pressed against your legs during long winter nights, the way his tail wagged in pure joy whenever you walked through the door, the silent moments when he’d simply rest his head on your lap, offering comfort that words never could. He’d been there for everything, for laughter and heartbreak, for quiet Sunday mornings and busy, chaotic days, for the day you had met the love of your life. He had been with you ever since he was 8 weeks old. And now, that constant, loyal presence was gone.

The door creaked softly behind you, breaking through your thoughts, and a familiar figure settled beside you. Hotch wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. He didn’t speak, didn’t offer empty words he knew wouldn't help — he just held you, his presence enough to ground you in ways that only he knew how to. His hand moved in soothing circles on your back, a gentle rhythm that began to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.

You let yourself lean into him, feeling his heartbeat steady against your shoulder. Together, you looked out over the yard, at the small grave under the trees, a simple but loving farewell to the friend who’d meant so much.

After a long silence, you found your voice, hardly more than a whisper. “He was a good dog.”

Hotch’s arm tightened around you, and he hummed softly in agreement. “The best,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. You closed your eyes, letting the warmth of his embrace soothe the edges of your grief. Slowly, you felt the weight begin to ease, just a little, just for now, as his presence reminded you that, somehow, you’d find a way to carry on — you had to.

As the night stretched on, you stayed there together in the quiet, watching over the place where love, friendship, and loyalty had been laid to rest, feeling that though a chapter had closed, you wouldn’t have to face the next one alone.

[makeitmingi]

Let The Heart Love Again

Genre: Romance, Fluff

Pairing: Wooyoung x Reader (y/n)

Characters: DanceTeacher!Reader, SingleDad!Wooyoung, Daughter (Jung Yoonseo)

Summary: When Wooyoung's daughter expressed interest in sharing his passion for dance, he immediately signed her up for the next class. However, he didn't think that he would be star struck by his daughter's teacher. Maybe, just maybe, he was ready to open his heart again.

[A/N: Thank you to my girls @songmingisthighs and @luvt0kki for being such great supporters and cheering me on <3 This story is centered around Wooyoung and Yoonseo (mostly Wooyoung and his internal feelings), slowly inviting (y/n) in.]

Word count: 10k

Wooyoung was always known as one of the better dancers in the group with his seductiveness and sharp lines. Especially after he got the chance to be Artist of the Month and perform his dance piece live with BB Trippin.

"Appa! Appa!" He emerged from the kitchen when he heard his daughter, Yoonseo, call for him.

"Oh, Yoonseo ah. You're home. How was your day?" He dried his hands on the towel hanging on his apron and went to the daughter, wrapping his arms around her.

"Good." She grinned, throwing her arms around his neck.

"I'm starving!" San declared, making Wooyoung slap his arm for yelling when the front door was still open.

"Thanks for bringing her out." Wooyoung smiled. San shook his head with a smile. He never found it a chore to help Wooyoung look after his daughter.

"No need to thank. We both had fun." San chuckled, ruffling Yoonseo's hair.

"Dinner will be done soon. Go wash your hands and face then we can sit down to eat." Wooyoung kissed his daughter's cheek and patted her back. San lifted Yoonseo up and she squealed with laughter as San brought her to the bathroom to wash up. Wooyoung laughed and shook his head at them.

"Don't make a mess in the bathroom and leave the ground wet again!" Wooyoung called out, remembering how the two were splashing water at each other the last time.

"She started it!" San complained. Wooyoung sighed and dished up what he cooked.

"You're helping me wipe the floor later." Wooyoung said, leaning against the bathroom door frame.

"Let's go, gongju nim." San lifted Yoonseo onto her boosted seat. Wooyoung placed her rice bowl in front of her, another in front of San and went to get his own.

"I want jelly." Yoonseo declared.

"Later, baby. Have dinner first." Wooyoung stroked her cheek as he sat down next to her.

"No... I want it now~ Jelly first." Yoonseo whined, frowning and even pushing her rice bowl away from her. Wooyoung sighed and placed his chopsticks down, one thing he was still trying to master as a parent was disciplining Yoonseo.

"Gongju nim, we should have dinner first. Appa cooked all this delicious food for you." San stepped in, sensing Wooyoung's internal struggle. Yoonseo pouted.

"No pouting. I promise you can have a jelly later, alright?" Wooyoung told her, gently holding her chin to make her look at him.

"Promise?" She held her pinky up.

"Promise." Wooyoung nodded and laced pinkies with her.

When it came to Yoonseo's tantrums, Wooyoung always tried to speak as calmly as he could. He was afraid of letting his stress and own emotions get to him.

It happened before. He unintentionally yelled at Yoonseo when she was throwing a tantrum, startling her. It ended with the both of them in tears while Wooyoung was apologising profusely to her.

"Thank you for the food." Yoonseo said before eating a spoonful of rice. Thankfully, Yoonseo was a good eater and not picky.

"Good girl." Wooyoung patted her head and San smiled proudly at her, already starting his dinner. Wooyoung would eat his food then cut up some food to give to Yoonseo. Having cooked for her since she was born, he already knew what she liked. And like her dad and Ateez uncles, she likes beef and noodles.

"Is it good?" San asked and Yoonseo nodded happily. Wooyoung cut up more beef into cubes and put it on her rice bowl, making sure she had plenty of white kimchi.

"Baby, soon you'll be able to eat regular kimchi like uncle Sannie." Wooyoung smiled.

"Spicy." She pouted.

"We can ask halmeoni to make it a little spicy. But it's perfectly okay to just eat white kimchi too." Wooyoung chuckled. All the kimchi in his house was made by his mother.

"Eat your carrots, baby." Wooyoung said, noticing Yoonseo not eating the carrots in her japchae.

"You usually like carrots." He tilted his head, using his chopsticks to put the small strip of carrot that she pushed away onto her spoon.

"Uncle Sannie doesn't eat carrots." She pointed out. Wooyoung looked up, raising an eyebrow at San, who was picking the carrots out of the japchae too. San froze in his spot, staring pleadingly at Wooyoung, silently begging to not eat it.

"Fine." He muttered under his breath, eating the carrot and making fake happy noises.

"It's so good! I love carrots!" San strained. Seeing that, Yoonseo copied and ate the carrot too.

"You need to stop learning the bad habits from your uncles." Wooyoung scoffed. Mingi and Hongjoong didn't like vegetables too but Wooyoung forced them to eat it around Yoonseo.

"More." Yoonseo held her empty soup bowl.

"I don't hear a magic word?" Wooyoung raised his eyebrows.

"Please?" She said in her cute voice. Wooyoung smiled immediately and stood up to get her more soup. After scooping her more, he placed it down in front of her.

"Thank you, appa." She grinned.

"You're welcome, baby." Wooyoung cooed and went back to eating. One of the things Wooyoung swore to do was to raise Yoonseo right. While she could be whatever she wanted, Wooyoung wanted to raise her to be polite, kind, caring and respectful. He made sure she had manners with whoever was around her.

Especially since he was known as one of the ATEEZ members that would call juniors out for their lack of respect towards seniors. Even when Yoonseo couldn't talk yet, he taught her to bow to elders.

"Uncle Sannie, can we show appa the pretty clothes later?" Yoonseo sat with with a beam and a sparkle in her eye. San laughed and nodded his head.

"Of course. You can show him all the dresses you chose on your own." San said.

"You picked them all by yourself?" Wooyoung feigned surprise. Yoonseo nodded proudly.

"That's great, baby. I can't wait for you to show me later." He stroked her hair. Hearing that, Yoonseo let out an excited squeal, even kicking her legs.

"Done. Thank you for cooking, appa." Yoonseo balanced herself on the table to give her dad a peck on the cheek.

"I'm glad you ate a lot." Wooyoung said, happy that Yoonseo cleared her bowl. He brought her dishes to the sink first while he and San finished up their meal. Yoonseo was colouring in the living room, waiting for them to finish.

"Did she forget about the jelly?" San leaned over to whisper to Wooyoung, the two of them looking over at the girl who was busy colouring her Pooh Bear book.

"I think so... But I'll still give it to her. A promise is a promise, whether she remembers it or not." Wooyoung shrugged.

"You're such a good dad. I would have just not reminded her." San giggled.

"Other things maybe but a small jelly? I'd rather not hang on to that guilt. She was pretty upset." Wooyoung chuckled. When they were done, San insisted on helping Wooyoung with the dishes.

"Baby, did you forget about the jelly I promised you?" Wooyoung called from the kitchen.

"Oh!" The pattering of her feet against the floor was heard before she appeared right by Wooyoung's leg.

"Here we go. You can choose which one." He lifted her up so she could see the bag of jelly cups in the fridge. She took her time, jutting her lips out with a small frown on her face as she decided which flavour she wanted, as if this was the last jelly cup she was going to have forever. Wooyoung found her adorable.

"I want strawberry. Grape for Uncle Sannie and apple for appa." She grinned, holding Wooyoung's, San's and her own jelly cups to her chest protectively.

"My baby is so kind." Wooyoung smothered her in kisses before putting her down.

"Why don't you give this to Uncle Sannie and I'll open your jelly cup for you?" Wooyoung suggested. She nodded and ran to San.

"Uncle Sannie, for you!" She tiptoed as she held the jelly cup out to San. San turned to see her and quickly wiped his hands. Wooyoung took a picture of the two of them.

"Thank you, gongju nim." San smiled softly, patting her head.

"Appa, I did it!" She giggled as she ran back to Wooyoung. He held out the opened jelly cup to her.

While Yoonseo enjoyed her jelly cup, she sat with Wooyoung in the living room. She casually just sat in her father's lap, the two of them enjoying each other's company, not needing to have the television on or multiple toys around.

"You two are such father-daughter goals." San laughed as he walked over, his phone in his hand to record the two of them. Wooyoung scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"That doesn't even make sense, San ah." Wooyoung called out.

"Gongju nim, are you ready to show appa what we bought today?" San crouched down. Yoonseo's nodded excitedly.

"Appa, sit here!" Yoonseo patted the couch. Wooyoung saluted and sat on the couch while Yoonseo grabbed San's hand and dragged him to the room.

"Close your eyes, appa!" Yoonseo yelled from the room. His daughter could be so dramatic, he doesn't know where she gets it from.

"My eyes are closed!" He replied, covering his eyes with his hands. He could hear her excited running.

"Don't run, baby. You might trip and fall." He cautioned.

"Open your eyes!" She giggled, her voice a lot closer, telling Wooyoung she was right in front of him. When Wooyoung opened his eyes, he saw her in a cute white linen dress with strawberries all over. Wooyoung's eyes practically sparkled like his daughter's did. To him, Yoonseo looked good in everything.

"You're so pretty, baby!" Wooyoung cooed. Yoonseo shyly giggled, fiddling with her fingers as she twirled for him. San came out of the room, clapping his hands.

"This is my favourite." He sat down.

"I wouldn't be surprised if you say that for all the outfits." Wooyoung scoffed. San nodded in agreement, he was a fool for Yoonseo too.

One by one, San helped Yoonseo change into the clothes that he bought her to show off to Wooyoung. Yoonseo was basking in all the compliments from her dad and uncle.

"Last one." Yoonseo ran out. Wooyoung melted, seeing Yoonseo in a ballerina outfit.

"Ask him." San leaned over to whisper encouragement to Yoonseo. Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, having heard that.

"Appa, can I do ballet?... Please?" She added the magic word at the end, not wanting to be reminded again for forgetting. Wooyoung got down from the couch, coming over to his daughter and holding her hands in his own.

"You wanna learn ballet?" He asked.

"I want to dance. Be cool like you!" She grinned, swaying her body, making the chiffon ballet skirt move too.

"You're already cool, baby. You don't need dance to be cool. But if you really want to try ballet, let's do it." Wooyoung smiled, tucking her stray hairs behind her ears.

"Yay! Thank you, appa!" She threw herself into Wooyoung's arms, wrapping her own arms around his neck.

"You're welcome. But are you sure you want to learn ballet? Not other types of dance." Wooyoung checked. Yoonseo nodded her head.

"Okay, we can start with ballet. Also, did you thank uncle Sannie for buying you all these clothes?" He pulled away to look at her. Both her and San nodded.

"That's my girl." Wooyoung smiled, stroking her hair.

That night, Wooyoung stayed by Yoonseo side a little longer, having read her a story to help her fall asleep. He couldn't help but stare at her and smile fondly at how she has grown. It wasn't easy raising a newborn on his own. He had help from Ateez and his parents but he still did a lot on his own.

Yoonseo's mother thought that having a daughter with Wooyoung would make Wooyoung quit being an idol.

When it didn't happen as intended, she left Wooyoung and Yoonseo before Yoonseo could even be discharged from the hospital. She wanted nothing to do with both of them.

Wooyoung begged her to stay, not for him. She didn't need to love him anymore. He wanted her to be there for Yoonseo.

But she refused and left. The nights Yoonseo would cry for hours and couldn't be consoled, Wooyoung silently cried along with her.

He felt so much guilt towards Yoonseo for lacking and being unprepared as a parent raising a baby. Furthermore, he had to juggle his idol life and being a present father to her.

The last thing Wooyoung wanted to do was be absent. Yoonseo's mother already abandoned her, he wasn't going to do the same. He was going to make sure that he was there for Yoonseo when she needed him. She became his priority.

It was hard and he knows it will continue to be but he'll continue to learn. And one thing's for sure, he'll never regret having Yoonseo in his life.

"Oh my gosh!"

"What happened?" Wooyoung ran out of the recording booth when he heard Mingi exclaimed loudly.

"Yoonseo just flipped on her own!" Yunho explained. Wooyoung's eyes brightened as he bent down to scoop Yoonseo up into his arms, showering her in kisses.

"There's my smart girl. You flipped on your own?" Wooyoung asked her, even if she couldn't reply.

"Put her back down!" Yeosang urged. Wooyoung rolled his eyes and put Yoonseo back down on the mat, laying her on her back. Having just learnt how to flip onto her stomach, she was obviously having fun with this new skill.

"Show appa how you flip!" Wooyoung clapped. Yoonseo grunted a little, struggling to lay on her side. She then rolled onto her stomach, letting out little happy babbles.

"My baby!" Wooyoung cheered.

"Man, I love tummy time." Jongho said, recording the whole thing. However, Wooyoung's cheer was apparently too loud, startling poor Yoonseo, making her burst into tears and wails.

"Aww, shh, shh. It's okay, darling. It's just your loud appa." San lifted Yoonseo into his arms, comforting the crying baby.

Her first steps took place in Hongjoong's studio. Until now, Hongjoong still claims that he was the 'chosen one', whatever that means.

"See? She likes me better." Hongjoong said, holding Yoonseo in his arms in a forward facing seated position.

"Just don't drop her please." Seonghwa shook his head, he didn't like that Yoonseo was in the recording booth. There were wires every where, Hongjoong could trip and fall with Yoonseo in his arms.

But as Hongjoong rapped into the mic, Yoonseo stared up at him with wide eyes, not scared or startled by Hongjoong's seemingly loud and/or powerful rap. Wooyoung laughed, taking his phone out to capture the moment of Hongjoong rapping but looking down to meet Yoonseo's gaze.

"First, you're taking your first steps here. Now, you're in here, recording with me. You like me the best right?" Hongjoong chuckled.

"Not true!" San yelled from behind.

Wooyoung felt like he had disappointed Hongjoong the most when the news of Yoonseo's conception came about but he was relieved to see the captain playing with her and helping to take care of her.

Now, they're inseparable.

That was Yoonseo's charm. Not just her natural charm but the personality that Wooyoung cultivated by teaching her manners and kindness.

"I love you." Kissing her forehead, Wooyoung left Yoonseo's room.

After Yoonseo's mother left, Wooyoung never trusted anyone new again. It was how he guarded and protected himself and Yoonseo. He wasn't going to let anyone abandon Yoonseo again.

-

"Are you that excited, baby?" Wooyoung chuckled, seeing Yoonseo jump up and down while giggling, still holding Wooyoung's hand as they walked down the hall of the dance studio.

Prior to this, Wooyoung did extensive research on what dance studio was recommended for kids, reading through tons of reviews and asking friends for recommendations. This studio was well reviewed and parents seemed to like the teachers.

"Hang on, baby. Before you go in, I want to talk to you." Wooyoung squatted down to be on eye level with Yoonseo.

"I'm going to be late." Yoonseo pouted.

"It's alright, baby. I just wanted to tell you, it's okay to not be the best from the start, alright? You'll learn and practice." He held her hands but Wooyoung wasn't even sure she was listening.

"Okay." She nodded.

"Jung Yoonseo, you're not even listening to me." Wooyoung scoffed, tapping her on the nose. But he knew she was just excited.

When they knocked, there was a small reply before the glass door opened. You stood there with a soft smile on your face. Wooyoung hadn't even realised he was staring.

"You must be our new friend, Yoonseo. Oh wow, your skirt is so pretty." You bent down with a kind smile. Only when you spoke, did Wooyoung break out of his trance. Yoonseo shyly giggled at your compliment, fiddling with her skirt. When you held your hand out to Yoonseo, she gladly let go of Wooyoung.

"Let's sit here and do some stretches." You sat Yoonseo down with the other students in class before walking back to Wooyoung.

"Don't worry, Mr Jung. She's in good hands." You assured, assuming he was still standing there because he was worried about Yoonseo. But honestly, he was still stunned by you.

"T-Thanks. And call me Wooyoung, Mr Jung is my dad." He smiled with a chuckle. You giggled and nodded your head.

"We'll see you after class." You bowed respectfully to him and closed the glass door.

"Jung Wooyoung, what was that?" He scolded himself softly. He peeked through the viewable gap on the glass door.

"Let's all say hello to our new friend, Yoonseo. How do we greet everyone?" You asked the class, clapping your hands as you stood on your knees beside Yoonseo.

"Hello." The other girls in the class curtsied like ballerinas would.

"Let me help you, Yoonseo. First, we're going to open our arms up, point our foot to the side. This is the starting position." You gently and patiently adjusted Yoonseo's feet, arms and posture to teach her how to curtsy.

"My name is Yoonseo." Yoonseo shyly curtsied while introducing herself to the rest of the class. She looked at you with uncertainty but you smiled at her, encouraging her.

"That was great, all of you." You clapped for everyone in class. Taking a deep breath, Wooyoung left the dance studio.

"You dropped Yoonseo off for her first day at dance?" Yeosang asked as Wooyoung entered the KQ studio.

"Yoonseo's learning dance?" Jongho's eyes sparkled.

"Yeah. She wanted to learn ballet and luckily there's a really well reviewed studio near here so why not? You guys would faint over how cute she looks in her ballet outfit." Wooyoung smiled.

"Awww, look at the little princess." Yunho cooed when Wooyoung showed them the picture.

"Then she got annoyed with me taking so many pictures, saying I was making her late." Wooyoung slid to show Yoonseo's frowning, pouty face.

"Guess she learnt to be impatient from someone..." All 7 boys turned to the captain, who blinked in confusion then realised they were talking about him and frowned at them. Hongjoong was the one that always had to yell at the boys and rush them because they were running late. He had to, he was the captain.

"I'm not impatient. You guys just have no respect for punctuality." Hongjoong scoffed.

"Okay, okay. Let's start practice before we have our other schedules." Seonghwa rounded everyone up before Hongjoong could start lecturing them on punctuality.

"Oh! Yoonseo's ending soon." Wooyoung sat up after seeing the time.

"We should go pick her together." Mingi suggested and everyone nodded excitedly.

"W-Wait, maybe we shouldn't. It may overwhelm the other kids there and stuff. It's her first day there, I don't want her to be awkward around her friends." Wooyoung said.

"You're acting weird..."

"Is the dance teacher cute or something?" San raised his eyebrow.

"No! I didn't even notice her... I just don't want Yoonseo to be nervous or uncomfortable, okay?" Wooyoung said a little too defensively, making the boys look at each other knowingly. In the end, Yeosang volunteered to go with Wooyoung, who reluctantly agreed.

"This is the studio." Wooyoung said as he and Yeosang walked down the different dance studios. There were other parents there, waiting for the class to be over.

"Oh, she is pretty..." Yeosang tilted his head, peeking into the class. Wooyoung slapped his arm.

"There are other people here. Don't make comments like that." Wooyoung hissed, bowing to the other parents respectfully.

"Can you see Yoonseo?" Wooyoung asked.

"Yeah, she's so cute." Yeosang chuckled. He moved aside to let Wooyoung see. Yoonseo was giggling as she ran around the room with the other children.

"Arms up and down, pretty like a butterfly!" You encouraged, running alongside the children.

"Alright. I'll see all of you next week. Let's say goodbye and line up." You said at the end of the class. You stood at the front of the dance studio, before the mirror to curtsy to the class. The girls did the same to you, thanking you. They lined up obediently as you walked to the door to open it.

"Oh!" You and Wooyoung jumped as you opened the door, coming face to face with him. He apologised, rubbing the back of his neck while Yeosang snickered beside him.

"No, it's alright. I should have noticed you standing there." You chuckled and Wooyoung shook his head to deny it.

"Appa! Uncle Sangie!" Yoonseo beamed and waved.

"How was class, kiddo?" Yeosang bent down to talk to Yoonseo while you and Wooyoung were still flustered from earlier. You briefly broke away to say goodbye to the other kids and greet their parents.

"It was so fun!" Yoonseo jumped happily. You smiled softly, patting her head.

"She's a natural. And I mean it. Her musicality, flexibility, ability to comprehend the steps." You said to Wooyoung.

"That's good. She must have her dad's dance genes then. Wooyoung here is one of the best dancers in our team." Yeosang cut in. Your eyebrows raised in interest.

"I'm sorry I don't really listen to a lot of kpop but Yoonseo, here, tells me that you're in a group. I assume you are in the same group too?" You respectfully gestured to Yeosang with two hands. Yeosang nodded in confirmation.

"Sorry about him. We should go, come on baby. Say goodbye to Miss..." Wooyoung blinked, realising he didn't ask your name.

"(y/n)! Her name is Miss (y/n), appa!" Yoonseo informed enthusiastically. Wooyoung nodded stiffly. Suddenly, he found himself finding your name so adorable.

"I'm Yeosang." Yeosang waved, making you laugh. Yoonseo hugged your legs, surprising you slightly. But you patted her back with a smile.

"See you next week, Yoonseo and Wooyoung sshi." You giggled.

"Thank you." Wooyoung bowed. Yoonseo followed suit, bowing at the waist respectfully.

"That's my girl." Wooyoung praised as Yoonseo grasped her dad's hand. You smiled at the two of them, it was the first time meeting them but you could tell they have a good relationship.

"Thanks again, (y/n) sshi." With a final wave, the 3 of them walked away. After strapping her into her car seat, Yoonseo couldn't stop rambling on about her first ballet class, telling her dad and uncle what she did. Yeosang glanced at how distracted Wooyoung was as he drove, a knowing smile on his face.

"I can't wait for next week!" And for some reason, Wooyoung found himself excited for Yoonseo's next dance class too.

-

Wooyoung's subconscious mind did want to do 'well' to make a good impression on you. However, the following week, he ended up calling the ballet school, stuck in a KQ meeting and late to pick up Yoonseo.

"Miss (y/n), Yoonseo's dad just called the front desk, saying he'll be a little late." The receptionist told you.

"No worries, I'll watch out for her." You smiled before she could even request or suggest. Yoonseo was a great kid, you didn't mind.

"Yoonseo ah, your appa will be a little late. Wanna stick with me for a bit?" You chuckled as you poked your head into the dancer's den where the students changed, kept their belongings and prepared for dance. She nodded excitedly.

"Do you know your appa's phone number?" You asked, bending down in front of her. She shook her head.

"That's okay. I'll ask. Come on." You held your hand out for her to hold as you walked to the front desk to get Wooyoung's number.

'Hello, Wooyoung sshi! This is (y/n), I hope you don't mind that I got your number from the front desk. I wanted to let you know that Yoonseo will be with me. - (y/n)'

'Oh! (y/n) sshi, thank you so much. I'm so sorry to trouble you, I'm trying to get out as soon as I can. - Wooyoung'

'No worries, I love having Yoonseo around. If it's okay with you, can we go out for some ice cream? - (y/n)'

'Of course! - Wooyoung'

"Shall we go get some ice cream? Your appa said okay." You asked. Yoonseo cheered and jumped happily. After you got changed and packed, you took her to the ice cream parlour nearby.

"Alright, you can pick what you want." Wrapping your arms around her, you lifted her up to the glass so she could see what flavours there were. Yoonseo chose cookies and cream while you chose raspberry white chocolate. The worker scooped Yoonseo's into a cup and came out to hand it to her.

"Thank you." Yoonseo said politely, receiving the cup with both hands. You smiled at her and paid for both your ice creams.

"Thank you, Miss (y/n)." Yoonseo turned to you as you both headed to a table to sit.

"You're very welcome, Yoonseo." Seeing Yoonseo at eye level with the table, you lifted her up to sit in your lap. She leaned slightly against your arm, comfortably eating her ice cream.

"Appa is always busy during comeback." Yoonseo told you.

"Does that mean you're usually with your omma then?" You asked back. Yoonseo shook her head.

"I don't have an omma. I only have appa." She replied. You didn't realise how possibly insensitive you were, assuming that Yoonseo had a mother.

"And that's okay." You smiled softly, stroking her hair.

While eating your ice cream, you learnt a lot about Yoonseo, how she was raised by her dad and 7 uncles, whom you assume are the other ATEEZ members that you googled about. Wooyoung's effort paid off because he raised a great kid.

RING RING

"Hello? Wooyoung sshi?" You answered the call. Yoonseo perked up when she heard you address her dad.

"Hey, (y/n) sshi. I know I already asked a lot of you but is it okay for you to bring Yoonseo to my company? I should be ending soon. I don't want to take too much of your time."

"Oh, it's no trouble at all. But I'll bring her over." You told him.

"Thank you so much! I'll let the front security know you're coming. Just go to the 5th floor."

After getting rid of your empty ice cream cups, you and Yoonseo headed over to KQ. Like what Wooyoung said, the security at the front let you in after asking your name and recognising Yoonseo.

"Do you come here often?" You asked Yoonseo.

"Yeah. Appa comes here to work and dance. Uncles too." She replied. You nodded with a hum, you've never been into an entertainment company before. Since Yoonseo seemed familiar, you let her lead the way. There was a door labelled 'Artist Lounge' that she entered. However, it was empty, only tables and chairs around.

"I wait for appa here." She informed, climbing onto the loveseat with familiarity. You sat beside her, not feeling comfortable leaving her here alone, even if she was familiar with the place.

So, you stayed with her.

"Oh my god, I have to go." Wooyoung shot out of his seat the moment the meeting concluded. They were discussing their next comeback.

"Everything okay?" Hongjoong asked.

"Yoonseo." Was all Wooyoung said. Not offering much else, the boys thought something happened to their niece and rushed alongside Wooyoung to the artist lounge.

However, Wooyoung froze, making the 7 of them crash into him like an animated cartoon. Wooyoung saw you sitting on the loveseat with Yoonseo in your lap, her front leaning against yours as you held her while the both of you slept.

"What the... Who is that?" Seonghwa whispered.

"That's Yoonseo's dance teacher. Woo's new crush." Yeosang replied. At Yeosang's words, Wooyoung broke out of his trance.

"She is not my crush. She's not." Wooyoung frowned defensively, directing the last part at Hongjoong, who stared back at Wooyoung with raised eyebrows.

"She is pretty though." Yunho smiled. Wooyoung felt oddly protective at his friend's words.

"Yoonseo~ (y/n) sshi~" You jumped a little when Wooyoung lightly shook you and Yoonseo. You blinked, realising where you were.

"Oh my, I'm so sorry." You apologised, realising Yoonseo was still asleep in your lap. Then you saw Yeosang and the other Ateez members standing behind him, looking on.

"Mmm..." Yoonseo groaned, rubbing her face against your chest.

"Yoonseo, come on." San stepped forward to lift Yoonseo up. Yoonseo comfortably leaned into her uncle's arms, pressing her cheek into his shoulder. You stood up and bowed deeply to the others, feeling your cheeks heat up. You didn't think you would be meeting an idol group, dressed in sweats.

"I'm so sorry." You apologised, bowing repeatedly.

"No need to apologise. Thank you for taking care of Yoonseo and staying with her. Sorry for taking so long." Wooyoung shook his head and you smiled sheepishly.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Yunho. You're Yoonseo's ballet teacher?" The tall male held his hand out for you to shake.

"Hello. I'm (y/n), it's a pleasure to meet all of you. Yes, I teach ballet. You're the main dancer in the group right?" You asked with a laugh.

"Yeah! How did you know?"

"When Yoonseo told me her dad and uncles are kpop idols, I went to search online. She said you're all really great dancers." You smiled, looking at the sleeping girl.

"(y/n) sshi, it's late. Let me drop you back home?" Wooyoung cut in, offering you a ride home. Before you could open your mouth to refuse.

"Please, I insist. You stayed so late with Yoonseo, it's the least I could do, make sure you get home safe." He cut you off. You closed your mouth and nodded. Wooyoung reached over to carry Yoonseo in his arms while you helped to carry her dance bag.

"Thank you, Wooyoung sshi. It was nice meeting all of you. Have a great night." You bowed to the Ateez members and left with Wooyoung. The members all waved to you as you exited.

"By the way, I went back to watch Ateez videos. You're a really good contemporary hip hop dancer." You complimented.

"Ah, I'm shy. You're so much better with how difficult ballet is." Wooyoung coughed.

"No, your artist of the month dance was amazing. Yoonseo definitely had your dance genes." You giggled.

"Thank you. I'm glad she wanted to start with ballet for the foundation. Maybe she'll progress to other genres." Wooyoung shrugged. He dreams of performing with Yoonseo one day.

"Whatever she chooses, I know she has a great teacher to guide her." You looked at him, making him all flustered.

"Anyway, I hope she wasn't too much trouble. Thanks again for looking after her." Wooyoung chuckled, changing the subject. You opened the car door for him to strap a half aleep Yoonseo into her booster seat and fastening the seat belt.

"Not at all, Wooyoung sshi. Yoonseo's a great little girl, very kind and courteous. You've raised her well." You giggled.

"... I'm guessing she told you that her mom isn't in the picture then..." Wooyoung said after a short pause, seemingly uncertain of what to say. You hummed and nodded your head.

"I'm sorry, it must not be easy." You said.

"Oh, you thought- No, she's alive... I think? She left right after Yoonseo was born." Wooyoung corrected.

"Ah, I guess I shouldn't have assumed... But you know, maybe it's for the better. Rather than have a parent that feels forced to stay... If that makes sense... Yoonseo still has a parent and uncles that love her... and want her." You said, rubbing the back of your neck. Wooyoung nodded, he knew what you meant.

"Don't worry, it does make sense. And I agree. All I want is for Yoonseo to be happy, to grow up feeling loved. As long as she is happy, I'm happy." He smiled.

"I'm sure she is. The way she talks about you and her uncles, I can tell. You've done great. My opinion doesn't matter since we just met but-"

"No, it does. It really does. Thank you for saying that, it means a lot." Wooyoung said.

"She's going to grow up to be an amazing person." You smiled softly, turning back to see the sleeping Yoonseo.

"She teaches me so much too, reminds me to enjoy the simpler things in life." He smiled. Right on time, Wooyoung's car pulled up to your apartment building.

"Thank you for the ride, Wooyoung sshi. I'll see you next week?" You bowed and unbuckled your seat belt.

"It's no problem. We'll see you next week. And please, call me Wooyoung." He said confidently and bravely, hoping to indirectly imply that you have both become friends of some sort. You weren't just his daughter's dance teacher.

"Sure but that means you call me (y/n) too. I hope I'm not overstepping but if you ever need someone to watch Yoonseo, you can always ask me." You smiled.

"Not overstepping at all. Thank you. I might just take you up on that, Yoonseo really loves your company." He chuckled.

"I love her company too. Goodnight." With a final greeting, you stepped out of Wooyoung car and headed into the building.

Watching you disappear into the building lobby, Wooyoung let out a long exhale, leaning back against the driver's seat. Many questions raced through his head.

Did he see a future with you and Yoonseo?

Furthermore, was he ready to open his heart again? Because letting you into his world would mean letting you into Yoonseo's world too.

Following that night, you didn't expect Wooyoung to text you again. But he did. It wasn't anything personal, it was Yoonseo forcing her (surprisingly inflexible) uncles to do ballet stretches with her. The pained expressions on the grown men's faces made you burst out laughing as you had a break from your ballet class.

'Poor uncles!! I hope Yoonseo goes easy on them. - (y/n)'

'If she's anything like me, she definitely will NOT go easy on them. Needless to say, she's the best in this class. And she wanted me to tell you that she reminded them to point their feet. - Wooyoung'

'As her teacher, I am proud to hear that. She has improved so much! - (y/n)'

"Who are you texting that's got you all giggly?" Your friend asked, sipping her water.

"Oh, just one of the parents from my littles class." You shrugged, playing it off as nothing special. You were hyper aware of Wooyoung's celebrity status so you were extra careful.

"A dad, I'm assuming? Is he single?" Your friend raised her eyebrows, nudging you playfully. You rolled your eyes.

"Yes, it's a dad. And I don't know why it matters but yes, he's single. Whatever you're insinuating, it's not gonna happen. He's 100% dedicated to his daughter, as he should be." You scoffed. She sent you a knowing smile.

"Give him a medal then. But don't assume anything, my dear (y/n). Anything is possible." She slung her arm around you.

"Yeah, whatever. Let's head in, I want a good barre spot." You said and headed into the studio for your dance class.

Maybe she was right. Because the conversation didn't die there. You and Wooyoung were texting almost everyday. Both of you were not dry texters and genuinely enjoyed chatting with each other.

-

"Baby, you can just give her the cookies after class." Wooyoung said as Yoonseo excitedly pulled him along.

"No. I want to give it to her before!" Yoonseo insisted. Yesterday, Yoonseo baked cookies and of course, she set a portion aside for her dance teacher.

"Okay, okay." Wooyoung gave in. He wasn't going to fight his daughter on this when she's been excited to give the cookies that they she worked so hard on. But (y/n) wasn't in the studio when they arrived. Wooyoung assumed she just hasn't arrived to prepare for the class yet since they did come early.

"Aww, she's not here." Yoonseo pouted.

"I think we're a little too early, baby. I'll ask the receptionist if she's here yet, okay?" Wooyoung offered, not liking to see his daughter so disappointed. Yoonseo nodded and followed him to the front.

"Excuse me, is (y/n)- I mean, Miss (y/n) here for class yet?" Wooyoung asked the lady.

"Let me check... Yes, she's here but she's in class. It'll be ending soon." The lady informed after checking the log.

"Oh, okay. Thank you." Wooyoung nodded. So you were the student in ballet classes for more advanced dancers. It should be a 'duh' moment but obviously it didn't occur to him.

"Miss (y/n) is like you, taking class with a teacher." Wooyoung informed Yoonseo.

"Oh... But she's also a teacher?" Yoonseo tilted her head.

"She's a teacher to you. But to an older teacher, she's a student." Wooyoung tried to explain it. to her. Yoonseo nodded, walking beside Wooyoung back to wait at the studio where Yoonseo usually had her classes. Until they walked past the biggest dance studio.

"Miss (y/n)!" Yoonseo pointed, now that the dance teacher had opened the door to the studio.

"Shh, Yoonseo. No shouting." Wooyoung chided but looked to where his daughter was pointing. Your hair was in a bun and you were basically wearing what Yoonseo wears as you did pointe work.

"Squeeze your ankles! Engage your core!" The instructor shouted as he clapped his hands to the melody of the music.

"And gracefully, come down. Close with arms in first position." He went around, checking.

"Psst, (y/n). I think that's one of your students." One of your friends leaned over to whisper. You blinked, turning your head to see Yoonseo and Wooyoung there.

"Oh, it is..." You gave the father and daughter a small smile. Yoonseo waved back.

"Wait, one of your kiddos is Ateez Wooyoung's daughter? And you didn't think to mention this?" Your other friend whispered harshly. You laughed and shrugged. Honestly, deep down, it was a secret that you liked to keep to yourself. Maybe you were feeling a little selfish, you had no idea.

"Class dismissed." The teacher concluded. You grabbed your bag and was about to leave when Wooyoung saw one of the males stop you. He leaned in to whisper something to you.

"Mmm, of course." You said with a laugh, nodding your head. After that, he let you go and you walked over.

"Sorry, am I late for class?" You asked Wooyoung and Yoonseo.

"N-No, we came early." Wooyoung said, snapping out of his trance. Yoonseo held a plastic pack of cookies out to you. You bent down to be on her eye level.

"For me?" You pointed to yourself. Yoonseo nodded with a proud grin.

"We made cookies yesterday! This is for you. The samchons ate everything else..." She sulked.

"Well, thank you for making sure I have some, Yoonseo." You patted her head with a giggle. Yoonseo beamed, happy to have made you happy with her cookies.

"Miss (y/n), was that your boyfriend?" Yoonseo asked as you walked with her to your class studio. Wooyoung nearly choked at his daughter's direct question but admittedly, his ears did perk up to listen to your answer.

"No, he's my dance partner. We have a performance coming up and we're doing a dance together." You explained.

"Oh." Yoonseo nodded. Wooyoung found himself subconsciously nodding too.

"I don't have a boyfriend." You said to her casually, opening the studio door for her to enter. Wooyoung stood by the door, not entering the studio.

"You can come in, Wooyoung. Just remove your shoes." You chuckled, leaning into your bag to grab some water to drink. You grabbed an overshirt to wear over your leotard and tights.

"Thank you." Wooyoung bowed as he entered. He has never felt so awkwardly, he felt like he was the kid, sticking to Yoonseo as if she was the parent, not him.

"Can I wear special shoes like you one day?" Yoonseo asked, sitting next to you as you removed your pointe shoes.

"Of course. If you work really hard, you can be an amazing ballerina." You smiled. Hearing that, Yoonseo looked up at her father with sparkling eyes. Wooyoung smiled softly, Yoonseo never really had a female figure she could look up to. And as he got to know you better, Wooyoung couldn't have asked for a better role model.

"I better go before the other students come. Have a great class, you two." Wooyoung stood up. You and Yoonseo both waved to Wooyoung as he took his leave.

He bowed to the other parents on his way out, his heart feeling fluttery after that encounter with you.

"Calm down, Jung Wooyoung." He scolded himself in the car.

Letting out a long sigh, he drove to the dorms to find Yeosang and San. Them having been friends for so long and being the closest, Wooyoung needed to speak about this with them.

"Wait, you're talking about Yoonseo's dance teacher, right?" San raised an eyebrow as he sat down.

"Mhmm." Wooyoung sighed, hugging Yeosang's pillow to his face, groaning in frustration.

"This goes without saying but are you sure you like her? In that way..." Yeosang threaded cautiously. Wooyoung took a while to reply, sitting up on the bed.

"I am in denial of whatever feelings I have for her. But I know it's something more because the last time I felt this way was with Yoonseo's mom. I can't even describe it, I'm almost scared of that feeling." He sighed.

"I'm not scared for me, I'm more scared for Yoonseo. I have to protect her, even if it means sacrificing what I want for her." He continued.

"That's where you're wrong, Woo. You are scared and it's okay to be. You have given up a lot for Yoonseo but at the same time, you didn't give yourself a chance to grieve." San stated.

"I don't need to grieve for that woman." Wooyoung scoffed.

"I think San means grieve for your relationship. At the end of the day, at some point, you saw a future with her." Yeosang said.

"A future that she didn't want." Wooyoung glared. Yeosang reached over to rub Wooyoung's back. He and San were the ones that were there the most when Yoonseo's mom left.

"It's okay to afraid, cautious, whether its for you or Yoonseo. But shouldn't close yourself in forever." San adviced.

"Don't give up on love so quickly." Yeosang smiled softly.

"A date won't hurt. If you're compatible, you're not. But you never know. And from what I see, Yoonseo does love her dance teacher a lot. I don't know her personally to judge whether she is or will be a good mother but I think she liked Yoonseo a lot too and seems to take great care of her." San said.

"She's an amazing role model to Yoonseo. And I'm not just saying that because I feel some way for her, she's great with her. And Yoonseo idolises her." Wooyoung said.

"And I know you're worried about the whole idol thing but don't assume things on her behalf. Let her honestly tell you herself."

"Okay, I'll... think about it. But Yoonseo and Ateez still come first." Wooyoung chewed on his bottom lip.

"Sure, sure." Yeosang laughed.

True to his words, Wooyoung didn't act on his feelings right away. His focus was still on Ateez schedules and Yoonseo but he did think about his feelings.

He continued to text you as per usual and you always replied happily, the both of you took turns starting the conversations.

"Appa, appa!" Yoonseo's feet padded into Wooyoung's bedroom and he watched her climb onto his bed. Wooyoung put his phone aside, blinking as he watched Yoonseo excitedly climb into his lap, his arms reaching out to support her.

"Can I help you?" Wooyoung chuckled.

"I want to go for Miss (y/n)'s concert!" Yoonseo excitedly bounced in Wooyoung's lap.

"Why do you suddenly want to go, baby? Also, is that how we ask for things around here?" He raised an eyebrow at his daughter. Yoonseo covered her mouth with her hands.

"Please? Today, Miss (y/n) wore a pretty dress! Like a princess. She said she's dancing in many many pretty dresses!" She grinned.

"No promises, baby. Let me see if I have schedule. If not, we'll buy tickets to go." Wooyoung said.

"Yay!" Yoonseo cheered. Wooyoung couldn't help but laugh, Yoonseo is generally a happy kid but he's hardly ever seen her so excited about seomthing before.

"Do you really like Miss (y/n)?" Wooyoung asked. Yoonseo nodded her head vigorously.

"Why?" Wooyoung tilted his head.

"She's pretty! And... and... she's nice! She takes care of me like you and samchons. I want to make her a lot of cookies." She listed out, tapping her chin. There was a lot more that she wanted to express to Wooyoung and he knew that, but this was the best that she could with her limited vocabulary.

"Wow, you really do like her..." Wooyoung said with amusement. Yoonseo nodded in confirmation, shyly leaning down onto her father's chest.

"But I love appa most!" She added.

"I'm happy to hear that, baby." He chuckled and stroked her hair, kissing the crown of her head.

"What about you, appa? Do you like Miss (y/n)?" Yoonseo blinked innocently. Wooyoung opened his mouth but closed it, unsure of what he 'should' be answering. Instead, he shrugged.

After that, Wooyoung broke his own rule and let Yoonseo sleep in his bed with him. He just wanted her close.

"I'll always protect you." He whispered.

-

"Umm, excuse me. I was wondering if there are still tickets for the senior company showcase?" Wooyoung hesitantly asked the receptionist of the ballet school.

"Wooyoung?" You entered the school, seeing the father and daughter there. Yoonseo squealed and hugged your legs.

"Hello, Yoonseo. It's nice to see you too." You giggled and bent down to her height so you could hug her back. Even after you stood back up, Yoonseo still glued herself to you. You put your hand on her back, holding her.

"We're hoping it's not too late to buy tickets to the senior showcase. Princess, here, wants to go." Wooyoung explained. You looked down at Yoonseo, who grinned back at you.

"Oh... Y-You both wanna come for the showcase?" You asked.

"Yes! To watch Miss (y/n)!" Yoonseo cheered. You looked to Wooyoung, who nodded in confirmation.

"You don't have to buy tickets. I have two free tickets, you can take them." You chuckled, nodding over to the hallway for you and Wooyoung to walk towards the studio.

"No way, I can't take them for free. You should save them for your family or something." Wooyoung shook his head.

"If I had people to give it to, I would have. My parents are out of town, as usual. So who better to give the tickets to? Rather than let them go to waste." You explained. Yoonseo looked to you then her dad.

"Plus I think they're actually sold out." You added with a laugh.

"Well, I guess there's no other option. Alright then, we'll take them. Thanks." Wooyoung rubbed the back of his neck.

"Thank you for coming to support us. I have the tickets in my locker, I'll give them to you at the end of class?" You asked. Wooyoung nodded with a hum. He would have corrected that he and Yoonseo were going to support you, not the entire senior company. They were solely going to watch you.

After class, Wooyoung didn't come to pick Yoonseo up alone. Yunho and San wanted to tag along. They stayed back until almost all the children and their parents were gone.

"Samchon!" Yoonseo excitedly ran to her uncles.

"Oh, hello." You bowed to San and Yunho. They waved before bowing back with kind smiles.

"Here are your tickets, Wooyoung. Thanks again." You handed the envelop to Wooyoung with two hands. Yunho and San leaned over to peek at it.

"What are the tickets for?" San asked.

"We're going to watch Miss (y/n) dance!" Yoonseo informed. You laughed and nodded your head.

"Are we invited too?" Yunho tilted his head. You were stunned by his question while Wooyoung's eyes widened before he punched the taller male's arm.

"No, none of you are going except me and Yoonseo." He glared.

"I'm sorry, Yunho sshi. I only have 2 free tickets and the rest are sold out... But I do appreciate you wanting to support the senior company. If there are future showcases and performances, I'll definitely let you know." You bowed in apology.

"I look forward to that." Yunho winked, making you choke slightly and look away shyly.

"Tsk, stop that. And don't apologise to him." Wooyoung interjected. You nodded your head slowly, unsure of how to react.

"Alright then. Let's go." San bowed to you and you bowed back. Yoonseo waved as San dragged Yunho and Wooyoung out of there. You just stood there and waved to all of them.

"Yun, cut it out." Wooyoung said once they were in the car. He didn't need to explain further, Yunho should know what he was referring to.

"Just being nice and making more friends in the dance world. Why are you all bothered?" Yunho asked back.

"I am not. Just stop with whatever it is you're doing." Wooyoung frowned. Yunho shrugged, he wasn't too affected by Wooyoung's pissy attitude towards him.

"Okay, both of you stop. Kid in the car." San cut in, reminding them that Yoonseo was there. Luckily Yoonseo was distracted by something out the window, not really paying attention to whatever conversation her dad and uncle were having. Wooyoung sighed and just continued driving.

Honestly, he didn't know why he got all bothered too. That's how Yunho usually is with new people, very friendly, which Wooyoung should be used to.

When he pulled up to the dorms where they were going to have dinner together, Yunho walked with Yoonseo.

"Hey, man. You gotta tone it down a little." San said as he and Wooyoung walked behind the two.

"I know. I don't know what came over me. It really looked like he was flirting with her and I just... I felt possessive almost." Wooyoung sighed with a shake of his head.

"There's my baby girl!" Hongjoong yelled as Yoonseo jumped into his arms.

"How was dance class, my little ballerina?" The captain walked in with Yoonseo while the 3 members removed their shoes and went to greet the others. Hongjoong sat down on the couch with Yoonseo in his lap. Seonghwa came out of the kitchen and scoffed.

"That's it, he's just going to stay there the entire night and not help." Seonghwa glared.

"Be honest though, hyung. Do you actually want him in the kitchen?" Jongho asked. Seeing that the maknae had a point, Seonghwa went back to the kitchen.

"Let me help, hyung." Wooyoung came in, washing his hands. He and Seonghwa were usually the ones in the kitchen.

"So, Yeosang told me about your little... dilemma." Seonghwa said as he cooked the chicken.

"Tattletale." Wooyoung muttered under his breath.

"Don't blame him, he's just concerned for you and not sure on how to help. I think it's great, by the way. That you're slowly allowing yourself to trust and accept new people into your life." Seonghwa said.

"You think so? Because I'm terrified. I feel like I'm being selfish if I act on my feelings, not putting Yoonseo and Ateez first. I already made that mistake once."

"A mistake, maybe. But we all make mistakes. Don't be afraid of making mistakes, Woo. It's part of life. You got a really great kid out of it. And sometimes, you have to put yourself and your feelings first. If not, you'll always be missing out or losing out on great opportunities. We won't blame you." Seonghwa smiled.

"Thanks, hyung." Wooyoung gave a small smile.

"Don't be so hard on yourself. Let yourself love again. Just don't bring home another kid yet." Seonghwa chuckled.

-

"Tickets, please." The usher held his hand out. Wooyoung handed the guy his and Yoonseo's tickets. He led them to their seats, which was quite near the stage.

'Friends and Family'

That was when Wooyoung realised the tickets the dancers had were better seats, closer to the stage.

"Are you excited, baby?" Wooyoung asked. Yoonseo nodded her head, kicking her legs excitedly. More than excited, Wooyoung felt nervous, rubbing his hands on his thighs.

"Why are you hiding your face?" Yoonseo asked, pointing to the black mask Wooyoung had on.

"I think I have a stuffy nose." Wooyoung lied. He wore his mask in case any fans recognise him. He wanted to the attention to be on the performance, not on him. The plan was to remove the mask when the lights were dimmed.

"Appa, where is Miss (y/n)?" Yoonseo questioned as she held the programme book. Wooyoung held the booklet and flipped through it.

"Let me see... There. She is in 4 dances." Wooyoung said, pointing each time your name appeared. He hoped that Yoonseo was tall enough to see you on stage.

"When is it going to start?" Yoonseo stood up.

"Sit back down, please. It'll start soon, baby." Wooyoung patted the seat and Yoonseo pouted, climbing back on.

And as Wooyoung said, the lights dimmed a little later, signalling the start of the showcase. Yoonseo let out a little excited squeal and Wooyoung softly hushed her.

When it was your first item, Wooyoung felt his heart race a little. The moment the curtain opened, he saw you.

You looked absolutely beautiful, mesmerizing even. The costume fitted you perfectly, flowing along with your movements. To Wooyoung, you were like the main dancer with a glow around you, as if the spotlight was on you the entire time you performed. And no, he wasn't being biased, so he says.

"Do you see her?" Wooyoung leaned over to ask Yoonseo softly. She nodded and pointed to you with a big grin on her face.

"Can she see us?" Yoonseo whispered.

"Maybe." He chuckled, patting her head. They continued watching through the rest of the performance. Wooyoung loved each one more than the last.

Except when you performed a duet with a male partner. If looks could kill, your partner would be 10 feet underground.

He eyed the way your partner held your waist to support you during your turns and he hated the part where you stared into each other's eyes before he dipped you down.

"Appa? Are you okay? Do you need to pee?" Yoonseo asked softly, placing her hand over Wooyoung's when she saw his expression.

"No, baby. I'm fine. I don't need to pee." Wooyoung smiled.

At the final curtain call, everyone stood up to applaud the dancers. Wooyoung supported Yoonseo to stand on her seat to wave to you. You definitely saw them and waved back. Your eyes met Wooyoung and you smiled softly. He waved back to you and clapped.

"Miss (y/n)!" Yoonseo let go of her father's hand and ran straight to you when she saw you come out backstage.

"Yoonseo!" You dropped your bag and bent down. Opening your arms, you let her run to hug you tightly. You hummed, swaying from side to side.

"You were amazing!" Yoonseo excitedly squealed.

"Thank you. I'm really happy you came. I saw you right from the start." You softly pinched her cheek.

"For you." She held out the rose that she was carrying with her.

"It's beautiful." You patted her head. Wooyoung broke through the crowd, panting as he was looking for where Yoonseo ran off to. You straightened up and smiled at him.

"Yoonseo, you know you're not supposed to run like that! There are so many people here." Wooyoung frowned.

"But I saw Miss (y/n)." She pouted, hugging your leg.

"Thank you for coming, Wooyoung." You bowed. The both of you walked away from the main crowd to have some more privacy. Wooyoung handed you the bouquet of flowers that he was holding. You blinked at it, feeling your cheeks heat up. This wasn't the first time you got flowers but from Wooyoung, you felt flustered.

"You were great, by the way. Thank you for the tickets. We enjoyed the show a lot." Wooyoung complimented and Yoonseo nodded in agreement, holding her father's hand.

"Thanks, I'm glad you had a good time. These are beautiful." You smiled shyly, holding the bouquet and Yoonseo's flower in your arms.

"Are you hungry? Want some burgers?" Wooyoung chuckled.

"Starving, actually." You giggled. Yoonseo walked between you and Wooyoung as the 3 of you headed back to the car. Wooyoung went to a drive thru so you ate in the car.

"This hits the spot. Barely had time to eat today." You sighed happily as you took a bite of the burger.

"I'm glad. You deserve it after working so hard all day." Wooyoung laughed.

"You alright, baby?" He turned to see Yoonseo happily eating her nuggets. She grinned at him, happy to get nuggets to eat. The two of you looked so similar, blissfully happy with your food.

With how hungry you both were, the food was demolished quickly. But being past her usual bedtime, Yoonseo did fall asleep in the backseat, leaving you and Wooyoung to have hushed conversations. You talked about the most random things.

"Thanks again for coming tonight, Wooyoung." You said.

"Ah, stop thanking me. It was a great show, I really enjoyed it. It was great watching you. You'll have to come for our next concert, okay?" Wooyoung laughed.

"If you'd have me. I would love to see you perform on stage." You said honestly. Wooyoung felt himself get shy now.

"Our concerts are always fun. You'll have a great time there." He promised.

"Thanks for the burgers and for dropping me off. I guess I'll see you next week when Yoonseo has class?" You tilted your head as Wooyoung pulled up to your place.

"Actually, (y/n). Can I take you out for a proper meal some time? As a date." Wooyoung couragiously asked.

"I'd like that. And Wooyoung, even if you wanted to do drive thru in the car again, I'd be more than happy to do that." You giggled.

"As much as I appreciate that and enjoyed it too, we have to go to a proper restaurant. A first date always has to be special. I'll text you and we'll fix a date." Wooyoung smiled. It warmed your heart how seriously Wooyoung took this but you were serious too, you felt happy as long as you were with him.

"Alright. Goodnight, Wooyoung." You got out of the car.

"Goodnight, (y/n). Sleep well." He waved. He watched you disappear into your building and turned back to check on the sleeping Yoonseo before driving back home.

It'll take a while but Wooyoung knew there was no other person he would rather reopen his heart to than you.

~

Masterlist

[whytheylosttheirminds]

I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron (Chapter 6)

Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?

Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.

Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!

⯎series masterlist⯎

One Year Earlier…

The car door opened just a crack, an attempt to keep the torrential rain from getting on the nice leather interior. Your mother struggled to enter the front seat without bringing the elements with her.

“Just get in,” Ward encouraged. “It’s fine.”

“I don’t want to get an invoice for detailing,” she explained.

“What kind of person do you think I am?”

She gave him a knowing look, now fully inside the car and safe from the storm.

“I don’t think you want me to answer that,” your mother said.

The windshield wipers squeaked against the glass as they swished rapidly. Your mother folded her hands in her lap as she took in the luxurious vehicle with judgment. Ward picked up on her distaste, but simply chuckled and shook his head. He had given up any attempt on getting her to like him back when they were in high school together. She had always thought him a showman, putting on a display she wasn’t interested in watching. He may have the rest of the island fooled, but she saw straight through him.

She flinched as he reached across her, calming when she realized he was only opening the glovebox. He pulled out a stack of envelopes held together with a thick rubber band. He dropped them in her lap unceremoniously, right on top of her folded hands. She didn’t pick the stack up right away, looking down at the one on top with a deep sigh.

“How many?” She asked.

“Seventeen,” he placed his hands on the wheel as if he was bracing himself. “They’re still coming once a week, like clockwork.”

“Have you read them?” She mumbled, still staring down, her eyes running over the handwriting, a prominent frown on her face as she studied the familiar little curve at the top of each letter “a”.

Ward’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, as they arrived at the conversation he was waiting for. “No, I haven’t, and neither should you. No good would come of that.”

Faint tears began to form at the crinkled edges of her eyes. The moment she felt them she pushed them away, sitting up straight and shoving the stack of letters into her purse. 

“I don’t know,” she shook her head, clutching her purse firmly to her lap.

Ward sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t sure how many more times he could have this conversation before losing his cool completely.

“We did what we had to,” he reminded her. “Look, I don’t like it either. But it was what’s best for both of them. And it’s too late now. We need to move forward. They will, too…eventually. Trust me.”

She looked him square in the face as she grabbed the door handle, preparing herself for the mad dash back to her own car across the vacant parking lot.

“I will never trust you, Ward,” she swore.

With that, she opened the door. She had one leg out, ready to hop down from the truck bed, when he grabbed her arm aggressively, making her gasp.

“Don’t do anything you’ll regret,” he warned through gritted teeth.

“I already have.”

Now…

Rafe looked up at you nervously, his eyes running up and down your face, looking for any reaction. He was on one knee in front of you, holding up the promise ring you were sure you’d never see again. The sight was so surreal you didn’t know how to react.

You were slowly coming back to earth after the heavenly feeling of being intimate with Rafe again. All of the emotion that had clouded your mind was clearing and the events of the past few days came back into view. Rafe spitting on the waiter he’d thrown in the dirt. The disgust on his face when you’d first said his name on the beach at the island club. The way he had pushed himself off of you just a few hours ago before sending you running out the door crying. The man who was kneeling in front of you right now was not the boy who had first presented you with this ring over two years ago.

But still, he had the same desperate vulnerability in his eyes now as he’d had then. That day you had thought surely the next time he presented you with a ring, it would have a diamond on it and he’d be asking you to marry him.

The image of you in a white dress, Rafe waiting for you expectantly at the end of the aisle, flashed across your mind. Suddenly, it wasn’t you in the white dress you saw, but your mother. Your eyes widened and you snapped back to the moment, realizing that your mom’s rehearsal dinner was tonight and you had told her you would make it. She said she didn’t want you to, but she always said things she didn’t mean, and this might be your last chance to fix things with her.

“What time is it?” You blurted out.

Rafe blinked back at you in surprise. He had prepared for either a rejection or an embrace, not to give you the time.

“I…uh, what?” 

“I left my phone at your house,” you explained. “Do you know what time it is?”

Rafe reached into his pocket with the hand that wasn’t holding the ring and checked his phone.

“It’s four,” he informed you.

“Shit,” you walked around him and headed towards the door of the lifeguard tower. “I have to go!”

Rafe stood, shoving the ring back in his pocket. “What? Why?”

He followed you out the door of the small office. Once you were on the porch of the tower, you looked around quickly for any sign of the beach patrol you had been dodging, but the coast was clear. You turned back to him, blushing slightly at the sight of him hurrying to buckle his belt.

“It’s my mom’s rehearsal dinner,” you told him. “I need to get ready, I don’t even have anything to wear. Shit!” 

You descended the steps of the tower quickly, side stepping the rotted spots in the wood. Rafe followed you down, catching up with you at the bottom and rounding you so he was blocking your path to the beach’s exit.

“You’re still going?” He asked, his tone a swirl of anger and hurt.

You blinked back at him, feeling like the answer was obvious.

“Yes? It’s my mom, Rafe,” you said defensively.

“Didn’t she kick you out?” He questioned.

“Kind of. I mean not technically…it’s complicated, Rafe. You know how she is,” you struggled to explain. 

Rafe rolled his eyes slightly before looking over your shoulder, nodding.

“Fine,” he said. “C’mon, you can come get ready at my place. You can borrow something from Sarah.”

“Thank you,” you said, relieved that his frustration hadn’t escalated any further. 

You rode back to Tannyhill on the back of his bike, wearing his helmet, relieved that your identity was shielded from the nosy looks from his neighbors as you passed. You wondered how many girls they’d seen Rafe bring back to the house on his bike over the last two years. Your stomach twisted at the thought and you subconsciously squeezed him tighter, your arms around his abdomen.

You followed Rafe into the house wordlessly, nervously picking at the skin around your fingernails, wondering what had suddenly made him go so quiet. Once inside the door, Rafe dropped his keys on the table in the foyer and walked toward the kitchen. You stood there for a moment, taking in the house. You ran your hand along the back of the couch, Rose had gotten a new one, and you hated that anything had changed, even something so small. 

After a few minutes, when Rafe still hadn’t come back from the kitchen, you took it upon yourself to walk up to Sarah’s room, searching through her expansive closet for something to wear. You settled on a short black dress with spaghetti straps. It’s certainly not something your mother would have picked for you to wear, but showing up underdressed was better than not showing up at all, right?

Rafe skulked in the kitchen for a while, slowly twirling the glass of bourbon he’d poured himself, but not taking a sip. He couldn’t believe you were still going to your mother’s rehearsal dinner. He had been naive, thinking that your mother kicking you out and the moment you’d shared in the lifeguard tower had finally sealed your return to him. Maybe you would never fully be his, maybe he would spend forever fighting to be first in your life. He hadn’t fought enough before, he should’ve gone after you, should’ve tracked you down. He threw back the bourbon in the glass and slammed it onto the counter with a sense of purpose.

As you leaned closer to the mirror to apply some mascara you found in Sarah’s bathroom, Rafe appeared in the reflection behind you. He leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms, watching you. Once you had finished applying the makeup, you stood and met his eyes in the reflection of the mirror. You offered him a small smile, but his face remained still as solemn eyes held your gaze. Your smile faded when you felt the intensity of his look. You stood there for what felt like hours, just looking at each other. A look full of history, of unspoken words. The more you looked at him, the quieter the noise in your head became. All of the questions, the worry, the mystery faded and all that was left was him.

After a while, Rafe dropped his crossed arms and stood up straight, now folding his hands behind his back, emphasizing his firm chest under his t-shirt. He began walking toward you slowly, still not dropping his eyes from yours in the mirror. Goosebumps rose on your skin and your heart rate spiked, but you didn’t dare look away.

Once behind you, his chest less than an inch from your back, he dipped his head low and placed the softest kiss on your shoulder. The gesture was so tender, watery tears pricked the corner of your eyes. The brush of your soft skin against his lips undid him, and now it was him who was sniffing you, nose nuzzled into your temple, inhaling the scent he had craved so desperately for years. The glory of you invading his senses undid him and he had to place his hands on your waist to steady himself.

You leaned back into him as one of his arms snaked around you, his hand flattening against your stomach. He began peppering kisses up and down your neck, and you let your head drop back to lean into him. His other hand slowly crept up your torso until it rested over one of your breasts. It wasn’t crass or harsh, nothing like the way he fondled you on the couch just this morning. His touch was revervent, the way you hold something you lost and thought you would never find. 

You watched the embrace in the mirror and he continued dragging his lips over your skin. He was wrapped around you like a snake, completely enfolding you. Your eyes lingered on his arms, enchanted by the sight of his large, veiny hands on your body. Those hands that you knew so well, even after all this time, you could pick them out of any lineup. You never managed to unlearn him. You’d know him forever, even if you never saw him again. Your heart swelled with emotion at the thought.

The sensation of Rafe nipping at your earlobe pulled you from your thoughts and your knees went weak. You reached an arm up behind you and ran your hand over his shaved head, nails lightly scratching his scalp. 

“Thought you hated my hair,” he chuckled into your ear.

“It’s just different,” you breathed as he squeezed you under his hands just slightly. “You’re different.”

At this, he looked up and met your eyes in the mirror, his chin rested on your shoulder. He looked bashful.

“Bad different?” He asked, an edge of vulnerability in his voice.

“I haven’t decided yet,” you admitted honestly.

“What can I do to help you make up your mind?” He teased, easing some of the intensity of the moment. 

You smiled back at him in the mirror and he ate it up, heart soaring at his ability to change your mood with just his words. Maybe if he kept talking he could convince you to stay, to ditch your mom’s rehearsal dinner and never leave his side again. 

“I dunno,” you shrugged, challenging him with your eyes, hoping he would pick up on the hint that you want him to take control of the moment.

“Would this help?” He grips your breast tighter, making you gasp at the sweet pressure, 

“Mhm, I want more,” you closed your eyes and laid your head back full on his shoulder, surrendering to him.

He pulled the thin strap of your dress between his teeth, dragging it off slowly to reveal more of you. Once the strap has fallen fully down your arm, he licks a strip up your neck. When his warm tongue filled the shell of your ear, you sighed blissfully. When he pulled his mouth away and blew gentle air against the moisture he had just left, you fully swooned, swaying into him. 

He rocked with you and started rubbing his hand over your stomach, your hips, the curve of your ass.

“You want me to keep touching you like this?” He asked, genuine interest in your answer.

“Yes, I love it, Rafe,” you said. “I need you.”

“Tell me where you need me, baby,” he groaned into your ear, your eyes now squeezed shut so you could take in the perfect sound of his voice. 

“Everywhere,” you were losing your ability to stay engaged in the banter, the feeling of his hands too electrifying.

Rafe notices how you’re fading, and decides not to ask any more questions. The hand on your ass moved further down, to the hem of your dress. He ran the pads of his fingers over the soft, plush skin of your upper thigh. He lifted the hem up until he found the edge of your panties, hooking his thumb over the waistband and leaving it there for a moment. He kissed your jaw sloppily and started dipping the rest of his fingers under the thin fabric one at a time. 

You braced yourself on the edge of the sink with one hand, while the other slid down his forearm until you found his hand, guiding it to feel the wetness now dripping between your thighs.

The realization of how wet he made you mixed with the feeling of your silky cunt hit him like a truck. He groaned and pushed the hardness in his pants against your ass. Your other hand shot to the sink edge for stability as his hand took over, his fingers beginning to dance over your clit.

“Oh my god,” you moaned.

“This what you want?” He asked, his voice huskier than it had been a minute ago, as the feeling of your soft curves pushing against his erection sent shock waves through his body.

“Baby…” was all you could bring yourself to say.

“Missed hearing you call me that,” he confessed.

You opened your eyes to meet his, but saw that his were now clenched shut as he focused on making you feel good. In the reflection, you caught the clock on the wall, your mom’s rehearsal dinner was beginning soon.

“Rafe,” you tried to pull his attention.

“Y/n,” he moaned, misunderstanding your tone.

“No, Rafe,” you tapped his arm to get him to open his eyes. “I have to go, I’ll be late.”

Rafe shook his head. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He said it a bit harshly, his fear manifesting itself into anger as it so often did.

“But-” you started to protest, but were cut off when he sped up the movement of his fingers, pinching slightly and rolling your sensitive clit between his fingers. “Fuck!” You nearly yelled as your body jolted forward.

“That’s it, just let me finish what I started,” Rafe said, his thumb taking over circles on your clit while his first finger reached down to dip into you.

You tried to talk, tried to tell him how good it felt, but no words came from your open mouth. Your knuckles were white from your tight grip on the sink. You pushed back into Rafe, wanting to share the pleasure you were feeling with him, but he pulled his hips away from you.

“Nah, not right now,” he said. “I’m on the clock here, baby, I gotta focus.”

He plunged a second finger into you and curled them upward, finally hitting your favorite spot that he knew so well. He had spent so long memorizing how to unravel you, he couldn’t forget if he tried.

Soon enough, he succeeded, and you unraveled completely. Rafe watched with unblinking eyes as your orgasm had you bent over the sink, crying out his name. He pulled you toward him, holding you up, as he whispered reassurances into your ear.

“Rafe, I-“ you cried.

“I got you, baby,” he cooed. “I always got you.”

Finally, your breathing steadied and you came back to earth. You turned in his arms and his hands rested on your lower back. Stretching up on your tiptoes, you wrapped your arms around his neck and placed a grateful kiss to his lips.

“You still my girl?” He asked earnestly.

“Always.” 

You said it without really thinking, and immediately wondered if you shouldn’t have. Rafe clearly couldn’t see the doubt on your face as his own was filled with relief and affection.

Just as he leaned forward to kiss you back, his phone dinged in his pocket. He rolled his eyes, annoyed at the interruption and you giggled, delighted that he only wanted to be with you right now. He reluctantly checked the text.

“Your car is ready,” he explained.

“Oh, good!” you had honestly forgotten that your mom’s car was even gone, the morning feeling like a lifetime ago. 

“I’ll go get it for you,” he offered. “You might, uh, wanna redo your makeup.”

You turned quickly to look at your reflection in the mirror, the mascara you had just applied was smeared from the sweat Rafe had caused you to break.

“Oh my God,” you laughed. “I look like a racoon!”

“A cute one, though,” he said, planting a quick kiss to your cheek before exiting the room. 

You blushed at the simplicity of the moment, and the sweetness of the comment. For a moment, you let your mind drift into some delusional future where this is your home, and you are his girl, and none of the past two years happened. 

But they did happen. Your bubble burst and you were suddenly back in the real world. This isn’t your house, and there were so many obstacles in the path to the future you were still inexplicably clinging to. The biggest of them being that you weren’t sure you actually knew the man you just promised yourself to. The man who yells and fights and gets arrested. The man who managed to break your heart and stitch it back together in the span of a few hours.

The man who never answered any of your letters.

It started so innocently, you wandered down the spiral stairs to the floor Rafe’s room was on. You walked around his room with your arms crossed, taking in the familiarity of it. You opened his top dresser drawer, immediately closing it again, feeling strange about poking around. But you had to know.

You began rifling, opening every drawer and digging through it, not even bothering to set them back to the way they were when you were done. You told yourself you were just looking for the letters, curious if he had read them or kept them sealed, or even ripped them to shreds. But if you were being honest, this wasn’t just about the letters. Rafe still hadn’t given you the answers you were looking for, about what happened to his dad or how he ended up getting arrested. You were too scared to bring it up again, the whiplash of his mood swings today making you dizzy. You figured if you were going to get answers, you’d have to dig for them yourself.

You made it through Rafe’s room without finding anything significant. He had a few joints rolled up in his desk drawer, but there was nothing that satisfied your craving for understanding. 

You repeated your desperate actions in his bathroom, then Ward and Rose’s room, where it appeared Rafe had been sleeping, a mystery you’d solve another time. You made your way to Ward’s office, the room you were never allowed in when you were kids. You dug through the desk drawers, the filing cabinets, the old antique hutch - nothing. Then you remembered a time in high school when you and Rafe had snuck in here, needing to find some spare cash for concert tickets you had begged him for. Rafe had snuck into his dad’s safe, behind the painting on the wall. 

You slowly walked over to the painting, wondering if this was officially going too small. You didn’t remember the passcode to the safe, so maybe it was pointless, but something in you told you to try. You slowly pulled the painting from the wall, eyes widening at what you discovered behind it.

On one side, a gun. On the other, a pile of gold, diamonds, precious stones - a real life treasure chest. Apart, they could have many meanings. But next to each other, tucked away in a manner that was clearly not meant to be discovered, they told a story. You did not know how that story began, but you had the sinking feeling it hadn’t ended yet, that it was still unfolding, and that the moment you opened this door you had unwittingly become a character in it. 

Without really thinking, you reached out and picked up the gun. You were surprised at how cold it was against your skin. Your eyes widened when you realized how strange it was that you had even touched it, and you subconsciously held it further away from you, as if it was a cursed artifact. Something about the weight of it in your hands sent a chill down your spine. You were overcome with a sense of darkness, as though something sinister had entered the room. But when you lifted your gaze from the foreign sight of a gun in your hand, you found that the only thing that had entered the room was Rafe.

(Chapter 7)

a/n: she's aliiiive!!! I'm so sorry it's taken so long, life is crazy. I missed these two so much. If you're still here THANK YOU for sticking with me!!! I know this chapter is shorter than the others, but I had to get something posted and this is what I have. The rest of the story lives in my brain, alive and well and will be posted at some point I promise!! I think I have 3 or 4 chapters until I've told the full story.