#the way he not only takes her hand but brings it closer to him??? i-

[clubsoft]

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⠀ ⠀ PARTY 4 U ⠀ ⠀ CH . 01 ⠀ ⠀ JOAQUIN TORRES A . K . A FALCON / F ! READER⠀⠀

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SUMMARY ⋆ joaquin finds love on a dating app && does anything he can to get her closer . WARNINGS ⋆ fluffy for now / next chapters will def have smut / not - a - superhero ! au / wealthy , lowkey sugar daddy ! joaquin / mutual pining / they r in luvvvv lowk / awkward convos / banter / joaquin has some dirty thoughts / 3rd person POV ; no use of Y/N WORD COUNT ⋆ 2 . 8 k NOTES ⋆ i made a tiny lil playlist to go with this , u can listen to it here !! all my love for danny ramirez came flooding back n i couldn't stop thinking of him as lover boy mcgee ... dreamy sigh ... enjoy !!

A swipe of her thumb changed the trajectory of the summer for the better. What was meant to be a slothful three months of taking it day by day, hoping, praying for any excitement to befall the lazy crawl of time became late nights tapping away at her phone, and endless conversations with a boy in another timezone: Joaquin. The dating app had been a distraction, uninstalled as soon as his number made its way into her contacts, texts traded for images. Innocent, as it always starts, he sent himself, in the gym, muscular arms flexed, pretty pearly whites flashing in a charming smile. Tan skin, overgrown curls slanting into playful eyes, she’d found herself intimidated, yet enthralled all the same.

He was treating her. It was only right she rewarded him in return.

Joaquin’s recompense took the form of a mirror selfie in a dressing room; a baby pink dress, made to be taken off, kissing, clinging to every curve — mouth watering. To add to his torture, she’d followed the vision up with: so cute, so expensive. Exposed by the exchange, their definitions of expensive were worlds apart. 

$3000 received from Joaquin Torres: ‘Wear it for our first date.’

“Joaquin, that’s too much, you have to take it back,” she’d whined over the phone minutes later, a deep chuckle coming from his end of the line. 

“You said it was expensive—”

“Yeah, eighty bucks!” Too loud, catching glares from other shoppers, she sighed and lowered her voice. “It was only eighty bucks. I can afford that, I’m sending it back.” She was still shaken from the notification, fingers trembling, intending to do as she said, brought to an end by his answer.

“No.” Joaquin’s tone was firm, his grin audible, his mind made up. “Keep it, buy yourself other pretty things to wear for me. You need more, you let me know.” 

Men in the real world can’t be trusted, men online ought to be monsters, but there are always outliers; a man too good to be true that happens to be true after all. With money in her account, and shopping bags littering her bedroom, she’d convinced herself that Joaquin was her Prince Charming, sent to her by Aphrodite herself to save her from the lonely, boyfriend-less, love-empty, paycheck-to-paycheck life, that his interest reflected hers identically. He was respectful, kind, patient, and had yet to bring up the topic of sex, whereas any other man in his seat would’ve begun posing with his cock in his hand. The bar was low, and Joaquin was in his home gym, using it to make those strong arms of his all the more delicious, raising it with ease.

A month and a half into being matchmade, one night on FaceTime, after almost an hour of blissful silence, Joaquin asked, “You wanna come to my party next weekend?” The question was posed as though there weren’t thousands of miles between them, met with hesitation on her end, causing him to continue: “I’ll fly you out Thursday, we can hang on Friday… I’ll take you shopping. Party’s Friday night. It’ll be fun.” He sounded nervous, fumbling for words to convince her. Those brown puppy dog eyes twinkling below furrowed brows, gazing at her lips, waiting for them to part, only to cut her off when they did, trying his very best to stave off what he thought was oncoming rejection, the rumble of his chest audible in his words as he murmured, “I really want to see you. I want to touch you and kiss you good morning and good night. The texts aren’t enough anymore…” His hands clamping over his face, he fell back onto his bed, out of frame. “Your lips look so soft — you look so soft. Please.” 

How could she say no? 

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Joaquin traces the shield shape of the Porsche logo with his fingertips, his knee bouncing as he watches the automatic sliding doors of the airport gate like a hawk. He’s seen her silhouette a thousand times in pictures, stalking her Instagram, scrolling through their texts, imprinting every line of her figure behind his eyelids. Every moment of downtime is consumed by her, thoughts notching themselves into a spectrum of museum dates and ice cream to her pressed into his mattress, chanting his name like a mantra. Ice cream was easy to discuss, a two-hour conversation about favorite flavors and other sweet treats — a mutual sweet tooth — had distracted him from his work only days prior. He’d called her sweet, she’d giggled, and he’d forced his next set of words to die on his tongue: Can I have a taste?

The doors open, and angels sing. Heavenly beams of light dance over delicate features as she finally appears. A gust of wind blows past, tousles beautiful, beautiful hair, sending her into a bout of struggle as she rushes to fix it, not catching him approaching her in the midst. He calls her name, softly at first, then a bit louder. 

“Joaquin!” She chirps back, sheepish simper on glossy lips. “Hi!” Her arms open, inviting him in; he swoops down, drawing her into his embrace without missing a beat. Pressed to his front, her heels lift off the ground, and when he steps back, his hands remain on her waist. Joaquin’s gaze travels down, down, down, absorbing everything from the stitched flowers on her jeans to the ribbon ties of her shoelaces. Then, up, up, up, waist, chest, a swan-like neck— a face that broke the mold. Their eyes meet, and it dawns on him that she’s doing the same, opening her mouth, but he steals the words before she can speak. 

“You’re real,” he breathes out, his thumbs pressing into her shirt, the warmth of his palms seeping through the fabric. Her smaller hands find his chest, her smile bashful. 

“I am…” 

He doesn’t kiss her just yet, too shaky, too nervous — afraid he’ll lay it on too thick and chase her off. His nerves contradict the romantic perfectionist in him, the one that wants their first kiss to be memorable, not just a formality in front of the airport; a lazy, no-effort thank you for humoring him and taking a flight across the country. The gentlemanly things are in order overall — carrying her bags to the trunk, opening the passenger side door, holding her hand as she climbs into the seat… feigning confidence as her gentle gaze follows his movements, beholding him with a fondness he doesn’t allow himself to translate. He fears if he does, he won’t make it to their destination without spilling all over her. 

“My place first — got all your favorite stuff made for dinner, you gotta eat real food after that bullshit they try to feed you on the plane,” he says with his signature smile, buckling himself in. She adjusts her seatbelt, and shrugs, his brightness contagious; her cheeks already feel warm from grinning so much. 

“I dunno…  I like the snacks they give you! They gave me complimentary champagne, that was nice! I didn’t know rich people got to be drunk for free on flights.” Arguing her case is useless because Joaquin shakes his head as he drives off the sideroad, onto the lane heading towards the freeway. He opens his mouth to declare an equally playful rebuttal when she continues, “But let me guess, it’s cheap, wack champagne. Right? Right, Joaquin?”

He gasps, chokes out a laugh, and then nods, “It’s fucking terrible!”

Banter is more common than not between them — Joaquin’s personality thrives off it, his goal in any conversation is to make the other laugh. With her, it’s especially important — special. If he can work his way to one of her mellifluous giggles, his day is made, and the rest of the world can go to hell for all he cares. Over the phone, it’s a piece of cake. When she’s less than arm’s width away, it’s natural, as though the space between them has always been minimal. He tells a joke, she laughs, presses a dainty little hand to his bicep, and he decides he’ll never let that space grow again.

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The GPS blanks out shortly past them turning off the main road, much to her confusion, as the street they’re on is very much paved. Joaquin notes the knit in her brow, and offers a grin with an explanation, “This is the driveway. All this belongs to me— my family, they wanted their house at the center of it all. These are all orchards.”

After all this time, she’s become acutely aware of Joaquin’s financial status. If it weren’t for the downpour of gifts, the stacks of paperwork that occupied his attention during their calls and FaceTimes had made it transparently obvious. However, seeing it before her eyes couldn’t be more jarring. His car takes them from a dark asphalt path to one of sandy, beige stone, leading up to a mansion that’s nothing short of a palace. It’s perfect for California, with a white stone exterior. Rounded tuscan-style tiles of an earthy red shade decorate the roof. Gardeners take delicate care of the flowers surrounding the entrance, and Joaquin greets them with a smile as he drives up to the front door, circling the statue of a headless angel at the center of the roundabout. 

“This is all so beautiful,” she muses, beaming, her orbs and her simper twinkling just alike. “I really appreciate you bringing me here, this is the coolest house I think I’ve ever seen.” Joaquin hums, and tells her it’s not a big deal as he removes his shoes near the entryway, feet sliding into a pair of navy green slippers. Hopping up the stairs leading to the set of wooden double doors, a step and a half behind him, she spins a full circle, ogling at the masterpiece of a lawn from a proper point of view, filling her chest with a deep breath. Her compliment isn’t empty politeness, it truly is the grandest place she’s ever visited. To say she’s out of her depths is an understatement, and she glues her palms to her jeans. She thought she was scared of heights, snakes, or bugs, yet the mere thought of bumping a table and shattering one of the beautiful, priceless glass motifs climbs her list of fears at the speed of light. 

Not only would it drive Joaquin away, and upset him, but in no universe would she be able to financially recover — that is, if she could cover the cost in the first place. 

Joaquin sets a pair of slippers before her, looking almost as skittish as she feels. “You c-could stay here,” he stammers without thinking, eyes widening upon realization, hurriedly attempting to apologize, “Sorry. Not like with me— I know you booked at a hotel, but we have a lot of rooms— I wouldn’t ask you to have sex with me on our first day of—” Cutting himself off mid-sentence, he glances up. She’s staring at him, amused, with that same fondness from earlier. “Stop. Don’t laugh.”

“I wasn’t going to laugh!” 

A chuckle slips past her lips, betraying her. “You’re laughing!” Joaquin grunts, rubbing a hand over his face, shamefaced. It isn’t fair to take her time removing her sneakers and shoving her feet into the provided pearly white slippers, to make him wait. It isn’t fair at all, but what is she to do when he looks so cute standing there, blushing? “Say something… please.”

“I don’t think… that…  and I wouldn’t mind staying over…” she replies, trailing off, looking anywhere but his eyes, teasing him. 

“But? Is there a but in there?” His frown deepens, high cheekbones glowing pink. “You’re still fucking with me!” A sigh, and her countenance softens. 

“You already did so much for me, I owe you so much money, I don’t wanna impose and—”

“I don’t care about that. I’d really — really like it if you spent the night — if you’re comfy enough with me to do that — I know it’s probably weird, though, so I’m probably scaring you — Christ.” This time, he runs both hands down his red hot face, and blurts out, “I really like you! I’m so excited that you’re here and I don’t wanna look like a fuckin’ virgin and give you the ick — you can say no, I won’t be mad, but just know I’ll keep a safe distance and—”

“Don’t want you to keep a safe distance,” she cuts in. It sucks all the air out of his lungs; he waits with bated breath. Her voice subsides, quietens to say, “I’ll stay. I would love to stay… I mean, came all this way to see you, right? I should spend as much time with you as I can, no?” 

“Yeah,  yeah… I think so, too…” Soothed by her answer, Joaquin pads closer, she has to tilt her head up to maintain eye contact. His curls curtain his gaze; longing, locked in on her parted lips — it flicks up, he wordlessly asks for permission, and she lifts her chin in response. Her heart pounds against her ribcage, teeth digging into her lower lip as one large hand snakes around her hip, two fingers in her belt loop. He’s so close, close enough to breathe in his expensive cologne, the one made in 2007 that he always complains about not finding — the mint on his lips, the gum he chews to help him quit smoking. Surreal doesn’t cover it, he’s a materialization of every fun fact he’s ever told her, and sure, that’s how life works, but how could the years craft someone so desirable? Someone she gets the privilege of feeling, her palms against his torso. He’s warm — strong under her touch, and his heart… it threatens to beat out of his chest, right into her hand as he kisses her. He’s all soft lips and careful tugs to her hips, his other hand finds the opposite loop, the pads of his thumbs glide under the hem of her cotton shirt — he kisses her like he’s trying to slow down time; gentle, patient. 

It’s romantic, liplocking in the arched doorway of a mansion surrounded by orchards, the sun setting in front of them, silhouetting them in pinks and purples. She pulls back only once she’s breathless, bunching his shirt into her fists, and Joaquin chases one last peck, followed by a bright white grin that crinkles his eyes. He’s about to speak when an older woman emerges from around the corner, and squeals, picking up speed until she’s standing before them, either oblivious to their closeness or indifferent to it. 

“This is the girl you were telling me about!” She sings the words, smiling from ear to ear. Joaquin, slightly miffed, looks at her and sighs, dragging his hand across the belt of the younger girl’s jeans, over the small of her back to wrap his arm around her waist.

“Yes, mom, this is her,” he groans, his cheeks taking on a rosy hue once more, out of embarrassment this time. A type of embarrassment that only a mother can invoke in her child. He goes about introducing them, gesturing his hand from one to the other, “  —and this is my mom, Esperanza.” 

“I’ve heard so much about you, it’s so good to finally meet you!” Esperanza shakes her hand with both of hers, glowing with joy. 

“He talks about me?” 

The grunt Joaquin lets out is answer enough, though Esperanza is more than happy to elaborate: “Oh, yes! At this point, there isn’t much else he talks about. He was so excited about you coming here, he had his outfit set on his bed like picture day was coming up—”

“Mama!” 

“Ah… right. You weren’t supposed to know about that.” Esperanza reaches out and pets his curls dotingly, her laughter mixing with that of their visitor’s. “I’m sorry, cariño, it was an accident!” It’s an endearing sight, the masculine, self-sufficient, all-capable presence that is Joaquin Torres defeated by his adoring mother in front of the girl he’s utterly enamored by. “Shall we eat? I’m very excited for tonight’s dinner, I have so many questions for you!” Then, she boops the younger girl’s nose — boops it, leaving her stunned as she all but dances away. 

“I am so sorry,” Joaquin groans out, covering his eyes with his free hand. Even still, his fingers are wrapped around her waist. “That was so—”

“Cute. That was so cute.” Interrupted for the umpteenth time, he’s once again led away from his anxiety by her sweet voice. “I love your outfit, too…  Very impressed.” A playful scowl tugs at his upper lip and she giggles, pushing up onto her tiptoes to kiss it away. 

“Thank god for that,” he murmurs against her mouth, kissing her once more just as his mother’s voice bellows from the opposite end of the hallway, and he rolls his eyes, tugging the girl along towards the dining room. “C’mon.”

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⠀⠀ ⠀ © CLUBSOFT⠀⠀ ⠀

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[secret-moonstruck]

How you see me? | k. sn

— Pairing: sunoo x fem!reader | (Masterlist)

— Synopsis: Y/N and Sunoo were just friends, even though she liked him, she never had hope because her friend was gay…what chance would she have.

— Genre: smut

— Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex, praising, cum inside, making out, clit play, begging, hickeys, cum eating, overstimulation.

— Notes: I'm new to this writing thing, and English is not my first language. Sorry for not writing so well, I wish to improve and bring better and well-written stories.

When his friends told Sunoo to take a drunk Y/N to the shower, he tensed up, he should have said no, but what was he going to say? So he just did as he was told.

- No, it's cold, stop. - Y/N's voice was tearful as the cold water began to fall on her.

Sunoo's hands continued to hold Y/N as she tried to get out of the shower, but she could barely stand, but it was difficult for him to keep her there, the cold water falling not only on her, but on him as well, which made him feel a little sorry for her, it was really very cold, but she needed to be at least a little sober.

Y/N was too dizzy, her legs had no strength, her body fell onto Sunoo's, he froze, too close, she was too close, he could feel the heat of her body against his and it made him nervous, he's been like this for weeks, he can barely look at her, but why is he feeling like this? It's not normal, he's never felt this way about any girl.

- Warm... - Y/N whispered as she hugged him, she inhaled his scent, settling more and more against his body. - You smell so good.

Sunoo managed to come to his senses, so he pushed her away a little, her eyes closed, her face flushed, he couldn't help but look down, her clothes stuck to her body marking every curve, he felt more and more confused.

- It's sticking. - Y/N complained about her clothes that were glued to her body. - Who bathes with their clothes on?

Sunoo's panic increased when Y/N let go of him, only to start taking off her clothes, he was supposed to stop her but he couldn't, he just stood there, petrified as he watched her undress. He felt so wrong in leaving, but it was too tempting, he couldn't help it, just as he couldn't help what he was feeling, seeing her there half naked in front of him was making him excited, that's when he came to his senses, she was drunk, she didn't know what she was doing. Then he stopped her, his hands firmly holding her wrists.

Y/N's eyes opened, a smile appearing on her flushed face, little by little she wasn't so unconscious anymore, which was worse. 

- Instead of my wrists because it doesn't squeeze my neck. - That was clearly the alcohol an intrusive thought leaving Y/N's lips. 

The grip on his wrists lessened, Sunoo tried to understand if he had heard right, no, his mind could only be playing a trick on him, Y/N wouldn't say that so suddenly, not to him.

But it was clear he heard her right as she approached, her breathing heavy as her eyes were fixed on his, their lips almost touching, so close, so tempting… but he left her there, alone, she jumped in fright when the door slammed just as he ran out of the bathroom.

When Y/N woke up she didn't need to open her eyes to know that she was in Sunoo's bed, she knew his smell very well, she snuggled closer against her pillow, while smelling the scent of the covers, she wanted it to be him there. From the day she met him she liked him, she soon realized that he was ridiculous and useless, she would never have any chance with him. If he only liked girls, maybe then she would have a small chance.

Sunoo was in the room and finally he had managed to sleep, after spending the night trying to understand his mind, trying to control his thoughts. No girl so far had left him like this, he was too confused about Y/N.

At first he tried to convince himself that it was normal. He to feel jealous when one of her friends was too close to her? Normal, she was your friend so it was normal to be jealous of your friends, right? Miss spending comfortable time while watching together snuggled up against each other? Normal, then again she was your friend so why would it be weird? There were so many things about her that he used this excuse for, but starting to have hot dreams about her no longer seemed so normal, much less that he liked it. And it was even less normal when he woke up and found himself thinking about what it would be like to kiss her, what it would be like to touch her, what she would taste like, what it would be like to have her body writhing beneath his? What would it be like to hear her moaning his name? 

These thoughts had been tormenting him for weeks, and last night, that situation in the bathroom, that was his limit. He knew what he felt, he knew what he wanted, he knew what he needed. Y/N, just Y/N. What he felt about her, he never felt about anyone. And he needed to deal with this situation.

The day went by normally, at least in the eyes of others.

Y/N didn't seem to remember the bathroom scene, and the others had no idea what had happened, but for Sunoo the day was hell.

He couldn't take his eyes off Y/N, the anger when she was being too friendly with others, how she laughed while they played video games together. He couldn't get closer to her, at the same time his eyes remained on her all day, he couldn't get close, he was afraid he wouldn't be able to control his body, his hands.

When night fell, Y/N was going to sleep in Sunoo's room again, but she felt bad about letting him sleep in the living room.

- Please Sunoo, I'll feel guilty if you sleep there again. What's wrong? Come, sleep comfortably in your bed.

He hesitated for a moment, but he wanted to know if she was teasing him or really didn't remember what happened in the bathroom.

They were watching, Sunoo had to cover herself, it was difficult to control her thoughts while Y/N was only wearing the shirt he lent her to sleep in.

She should have put something underneath too, but she didn't. He didn't know if he thought she was naive in not seeing the harm in being like that in front of him, if he thought she was belittling him as a man, or if she was doing it on purpose.

- About yesterday... - He started to ask, he needed to know. - Do you remember anything?

- Hmm, just being in the restaurant drinking afterwards I don't remember anything else.

- And why did you drink so much? 

He was a little disappointed that she didn't remember, he was worth so little to her that she didn't even remember trying to kiss him? Of trying to get naked in front of you? Damn... how could she ask him to choke her? He tried so hard to avoid thinking about it, but now the thought was there again.

- Oh, that? Sorry, I was just angry, a guy indirectly rejected me, but that doesn't even really bother me, no guy ever likes me anyway.

He hated how she said things like that, belittling herself. But he ended up smiling without realizing it, happy that the guy rejected her, he felt relieved.

- I like. - He whispered without thinking but without regret.

- Thank you, but I'm not talking about that, I mean it in the sense of a MAN like you know.

His blood boiled at that moment, he hated how she highlighted the word man, did she really not see him as a man?

- That's exactly what I'm talking about Y/N, I AM a man, and I like you.

- Sunoo, I don't... -She was confused by his answer. - There's no way you...

- How do you know? You can't decide for me whether I like you or whether I desire you. - He was clearly angry.

To like? To wish? She couldn't be hearing right.

- But Sunoo, how? I mean, you're GAY. - Y/N laughed nervously, trying to hide her confusion, maybe he was joking or just trying to cheer her up?

Hearing her say that angered him. He never had a problem with it, but why did it come out of her mouth so offensive?

He doesn't know what happened to him, anger took over his body, when he realized it was over Y/N, his hands holding her against the bed, her eyes wide, looking at him in surprise. But there was something more, it wasn't just surprise, she liked it, he could see how her eyes were shining, she was happy, she seemed satisfied as if she had been waiting for this, as if she had wanted this for a long time, to be under his body.

- Are you sure of what you said? - He whispered, pressing her closer to the bed. - You didn't seem to think that way yesterday in the bathroom, when you tried to kiss me, when you asked me to choke you.

- What did I do? - Y/N was surprised she thought she had dreamed it. - I'm sorry...

- You must really apologize, how can you say these things, if you couldn't even stay awake properly? Leave me like that? Having to end this alone, again?

- Again? - The glow that covered Y/'s eyesThey weren't visible. - Do you think of me like that?

Y/N felt Sunoo's grip on her arms relax a little, then she stood up, her hands pressed against his chest pushing him gently.

- Do you feel like thinking about me? - Y/N asked softly, with a smug smile. - Show me, I want to see.

- What? No. - Sunoo's cheeks turned red. Y/N smiled, he looked confident just a few seconds ago and now he looked so sweet with his flushed face.

- Show me Sunoo, I want to see how much you like me. - Y/N continued pushing him as she crawled under him until he lay back against the soft pillows. She left a soft kiss on his lips, before taking off his shirt, running her fingers gently over his body making him tense, she walked away smiling.

- Come on Sunoo, touch yourself for me. - Y/N took off her own shirt, exposing her body to him.

It was the second time he saw Y/N half naked, and this time he didn't need to run away.

He took off the rest of his clothes, and blushed even more when he noticed Y/N's gaze on his erection, it was strange doing this in front of her, but at the same time...it felt good.

He took his member, his fingers running over the tip spreading the precum before starting to pump, he noticed how Y/N's breathing became heavier, how she seemed restless as she watched him, at the same time he felt embarrassed, he liked her reaction, he wanted to tease her.

- Y/N…Noona. - He moaned slyly, his hand moving slowly, but it was tortuous for himself, his movements accelerated, his breathing becoming irregular. - Please noona, help me.

Sunoo was very close, his movements faster, Y/N couldn't stop looking at how he looked so beautiful, desperate, his face flushed, how he looked so tearful calling for her.

She moved closer, replacing his hand with hers, when she touched him he trembled under her touch. Her name coming out in whispers from his mouth, he couldn't take it anymore, soon ropes of cum covered his abdomen and her hands as he came, his eyes closed enjoying the moment, when he opened them he saw Y/N licking his hand, he swallowed hard at the scene in front of him.

- Damn Y/N... - He cursed when she bent over, her tongue passing over his abdomen, cleaning it before he felt her mouth around his cock, cleaning up the drops. 

- You look so cute like that. - She said as she got up, dragging herself to sit on his lap, while touching his red face.

Y/N saw the change in expression on his face. How could she call him cute in a situation like that? He became angry, his eyes narrowed, a wicked smile on his face.

- Is the sweet little fox going wild? - She joked, but soon a small scream left her lips, when it suddenly penetrated her.

- Do you still think I'm sweet and cute with my dick buried inside you? - The tone of his voice was as threatening as his gaze, this was definitely a side of him that she never thought existed.

Sunoo turned her on the bed, getting on top of her, his hand holding her waist while the other raised her thigh, pulling her more and more towards him, while his hips moved quickly against hers, the thrusts rhythmic eliciting moans from her lips.

She gasped in surprise when she felt his fingers around her neck.

- You like that, don't you? You asked yesterday, how many times did you imagine me choking you while fucking you?

His smile was almost devilish as he pressed into her neck, his movements becoming faster and faster. He felt her tightening around him every time he applied pressure to his fingers, suffocating her a little. It didn't take long for him to fill her with cum inside her, as his name came out as a whisper, he continued the movements until he made her come around him.

When he withdrew from inside her, he lowered himself between her thighs, his tongue passing gently over her sensitive hole cleaning her, while Y/N trembled feeling his hot tongue, she was sensitive and it was torturous, he moaned as he devoured her, she was tearful as his mouth tortured her, her hands clinging to his hair when she came again, he smiled, as she came violently shaking.

The room was silent the next morning when Jake opened the door.

- You're not coming for coffee... - Jake froze at the sight before him. - You two? No.

Y/N and Sunoo could hear Jake running around gossiping to the others.

- They will tease me so much about this. - Sunoo complained, cuddling up to you like a cute puppy.

- Well, I don't care about leaving here anytime soon.

- Me either. - He stood up a little just so he could kiss her. 

[sylusonychinus]

Episode Five : A Love That Lands

A month had passed since the day [Reader] had said I do.

The wedding had been intimate, filled only with the people who truly mattered. Close friends, supportive family, and colleagues who had cheered them on every step of the way. No extravagant ballrooms, no unnecessary formalities—just love, laughter, and the start of something real.

Of course, her stepmother and father hadn’t shown up. And neither had Liana Reyes, her sister.

Not that it mattered.

Because as [Reader] sat curled up on the couch in their apartment, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the wedding band on her finger, she couldn’t bring herself to feel anything other than happiness.

She swirled the wine in her glass, letting out a soft chuckle as she remembered the ceremony—specifically, their first kiss as husband and wife.

It had been… unexpected.

Caleb, ever the showman, had leaned in with a smirk right before kissing her—slow and deep, with enough confidence to make her knees weak. The entire room had erupted in cheers, and she had barely been able to register anything beyond the warmth of his lips against hers.

God. Even thinking about it now made her heart race.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t hear Caleb enter the room until she felt his arms wrap around her from behind.

"What’s with that dreamy smile, Mrs. Xia?" he murmured into her ear, his breath warm against her skin.

She jolted slightly before huffing, "Mrs. Xia? Really?"

"Really," he confirmed, his lips brushing against her temple. "You’re stuck with me now, might as well get used to it."*

She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face remained. "I was just thinking about the wedding."*

"Oh?" Caleb smirked, resting his chin on her shoulder. "Let me guess—you’re thinking about our first kiss?"

She stiffened slightly, making him chuckle.

"Knew it," he teased.

"Shut up," she muttered, taking a sip of her wine to avoid looking at him.

"You’re adorable when you’re flustered," he mused, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek before shifting their position, his arms still loosely wrapped around her waist. "Speaking of things to get used to…"

She arched a brow. "What now?"

Caleb leaned in, his voice dropping a little lower. "It’s been a month, sweetheart. I think it’s time I take my bed back."*

[Reader] turned in his arms, pinching his cheek playfully. "Nope."*

"Ow—Hey!" He rubbed his cheek, pretending to look offended. "That’s not very wifely of you."*

"Too bad," she shot back, grinning.

Caleb tilted his head, amusement flickering in his eyes before he hummed, "There are ways I can convince you, you know."*

She stilled, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was.

His hands rested at her waist, his gaze locked onto hers with quiet intensity.

Her breath caught slightly. "C-Caleb—"

"Hmm?" he mused, tilting his head as if he wasn’t fully enjoying the way she was reacting.

She narrowed her eyes. "You’re messing with me."*

"Am I?" he murmured, leaning in just a fraction closer.

She swallowed hard.

Then, deciding two could play this game, she smirked and pressed a finger against his lips. "Nice try, Captain."*

Caleb groaned dramatically, dropping his forehead against her shoulder. "You’re no fun."*

"I’m lots of fun," she corrected, pushing him away playfully as she slipped off the couch. "Just… not when you’re being that smug."*

"Smug?" He gasped in mock offense. "I’m wounded, truly."*

She shot him a look before retreating to the bedroom—her bedroom. "Goodnight, Caleb!"*

"We’ll see about that," he called after her, laughing.

And as she closed the door behind her, heart still racing, she couldn’t help but think—

This marriage was going to be the death of her.

Taglist: @jinwoosbabyboo @kithyyy @mcdepressed290 @nezuswritingdesk @elegantdeerlady @yuuuumii @duhgurl @lumieresdreams @bidisasterforevermore @i-messed-up-big-time

@that-one-scoundrel @justpassingdontworry @ansbobcar @nagireos @auriuswolve @bookworm1999 @sickleddreamer @heeknow

[cillianmurphysdimples]

A Female Y/N / Cillian fanfic (Part Fifty One)

Absolutely not based on anything real at all, all totally fictional, fanciful, and is all total bollocks.

Warning a for sexual references and language. Adult themes. Not suitable for under 18s.

We Got Issues

Part Fifty One: Y/N notices that while intimate touches have continued since their fall out, sex has not. With Cillian leaving for America the next day, Y/N wants him to know she still wants him to give her all of him like he needs to, even after a fight. She wants to ensure he leaves for the US with that knowledge, with that memory. [Sexual scenes]

@cherrycilly @whatcjdidnext @aesthetic0cherryblossom @meister95 @vivianleighwishesshewasme @watermeezer @meadowshelby @lavender-haze-01 @strangeions @borntodiemp3

In the days since your epic fallout, Cillian had been extra attentive but very quiet. You'd made sure one another felt loved - he ensured he validated your feelings constantly, and you allowed every hug and kiss he searched out - but it felt a little distanced even in your deep love, and you hadn't had sex once. You hadn't denied him at all, but he hadn't instigated a single round. He had, however, taken care of himself twice in that time, which had both amused and annoyed you. You were not at all opposed to him masturbating; it wasn't a reflection on your sex life, you knew, except during those days, it was. With him leaving for America imminently, you want to make sure that the parting is a sweet one. You pull another coat hanger from the wardrobe, and hold it out towards Cillian. A sheer, black shirt with a rounded neck. He shakes his head, and you thrust it back into the wardrobe again. It's the fifth thing you've shown and the fifth thing he's rolled his eyes at. He's standing at the bedside with his suitcase open on the bed, making his way through his packing. It's five pm, and the two of you have been at this for a half hour already, since you'd finished work for the evening. He leaves for LA in the morning, and you wish you were going. Last year it had been an unreal experience to be beside him when we won his Oscar, and now he is returning to present the same award to this year's winner. You feel a little jealous to be missing out on seeing it come full circle. You have work, and you're halfway through your pregnancy, and you don't want to risk anything! “Are you bringing a couple of sets of PJs?” You ask, looking into the boxes at the bottom of his wardrobe that hold various items beneath the hanging ones. 

“I'm only there for three days, sure. And it'll be roasting. I'll sleep in my fecking boxers - or in the nip.” he laughs. “The doors have locks, Y/N; nobody’ll be in to be looking.” You giggle at his comment as you continue looking through the wardrobe. You toss two standard t-shirts over your head, taking them off the small shelf inside, and laugh again when he moans at you. Evidently your shot with both items was a little off - turning around, you see him bending to the floor to pick up the navy and white striped one, while the plain black one is slowly sliding off the headboard and about to disappear down between the bed and the wall. He's quick, though, and snatches it off before it drops. “Ah, here, are those black, high-waisted trousers with the clasp in there?” He asks, “Or are they in the ironing basket?” 

“Basket,” you say immediately. “Knew you wanted them so I washed them. I'll iron them when we're done with everything else here, I need to do my work blouse, too. I'm meeting the solicitor and Amanda tomorrow afternoon.” 

“I'll iron them all,” he says quietly. “But will you hand me out that bowtie, and the thin black tie, please?” He asks. Grabbing both items, you walk them over rather than throwing them. “Ah, go raibh maith agat.” He smiles and takes his opportunity, now you're closer, to loot a kiss. He hums against your lips, a contented sigh at your closeness. He takes the items from your hand and pushes them into the case near his pile of boxershorts and socks.”I wish you were coming. But I'll be glad to be getting back and, what is it, two days after I'm home is your scan?”  

“Scan's next Friday afternoon,” you say, nodding. “Gives you time to try and reset yourself after you're back Wednesday morning. It's the anomaly scan - the community midwife was telling me what to expect at my last appointment. It works out I'll be twenty two weeks or so, but she said it's fine. She said the screen is huge, and it's in 3D so we'll be able to make out her little face, and her fingers…Cill, what if she has your nose? Oh!” you beam at him, and he smiles back at you with his pillowy lips and his doughy cheeks, and those eyes sparkling. You don't want to miss him preemptively and make yourself maudlin before he's even left, but you already do. You remind yourself of your intentions for ensuring he leaves for America with his mind consumed by thoughts of you, cheering yourself up with the idea. “What time do you fly in the  morning?” 

“A quarter after ten,” Cillian says. You watch him fold the t-shirts you had thrown at him. He folds them in half then rolls them up into small sausage shapes. You had to hand it to him - stupid as it looked, it prevented creases and gave him more case space. He stands a moment, examining the case before him, with his hands on his slim hips. He'd been lounging for a lot of the day, comfortable in a pair of loose joggers bottoms and a t-shirt that was stretched, baggy, and strained with something weird along the torn pocket that sat over his right nipple region. His hair has been crazy all day, too, but that was mostly due to braving multiple trips into the garden, where the wind and rain had battered all day, smoking more than he had in the last couple of weeks. He smells of himself and cigarette smoke more than usual days, and probably could use a shower, but it was the fiercely domestic appearance and aura all of that combined gave him that made you want to pin him down and fuck him senseless. In your dry spell, whilst Cillian had taken matters into his own hands, you had not. 

“Oh, so we'll need an early night then.” You say, turning your back to him. You pretend to be examining the wardrobe, but you're trying not to either fall into a fit of giggles or make him immediately aware of your innuendous intentions for the night ahead. Nothing spectacular, by all accounts, but you want your mouth around him, and the taste of him on your tongue, and you were even willing to repeat your less preferred task of the whole operation, knowing full well it was something he'd been wildly turned on by (whilst never expecting you to do it). 

“Ah, y’know me, I wouldn't be turning down sleep, now!” He says, focused on his task. “I'll iron those things when I've done this, then we can get some dinner, yeah? I'll throw myself in the shower there before I get into bed.” 

“What, am I not getting a proper goodbye tonight then?” You ask him, turning back to see his reaction. He hasn't looked up at you but he's grinning towards his suitcase. “You're really going to disappear to America and leave me without a farewell fuck?” he scoffs a laugh and looks up at you. His eyes go all over you, as you stand near the end of the bed between it and the wardrobe, and smiles lopsidedly causing his left cheek to dip into a deep dimple. He's taking it as you'd hoped - I miss you, I miss your body, come back to me. 

“Have I ever?” He asks, and there's a gentle seduction to his voice, and in his expression. He's on board with the suggestion, of course, and you know when he gets what you're willing to offer a little later, you'll definitely be sending him off to the US with a memory to keep him going during his time alone. 

You laugh, “Yeah, one time.” 

His head tilts to the side slightly and he frowns but there's a small, if a little confused, smile across his lips. “What?” 

“Well, during the Small Things press - off you went for, what was it, two days of interviews? And, well, you didn't give me a hard going over before you went. To be fair to you, we'd had a row over that fucking car thing before, and I think you were punishing me.” You laugh. You are teasing - he was sweet and loving, you two just hadn't made love the day before he'd left - and you're thankful he catches that there's no malice in your words. He draws back his head, wrinkling the skin beneath his chin, and his mouth falls open, letting his tongue protrude onto his bottom teeth, as he laughs at your words. You rub your hand across your stomach as the baby twists and as your hand touches over your shirt, you feel a limb of some persuasion push in against your palm. ”Cill…” you thrust your free hand forwards. “Come here!” You open and close your fingers eagerly. You push lightly against your belly with your hand and once again you're treated to a return assault, bringing a wide smile to your face. Cillian tramps across the floor. As he stops before you, you lift your hand from your bump and grab his, planting it down where yours had been. You apply a little pressure to the back of his hand and watch his face - as you feel the baby move, your eyes are fixed on Cillian's face. His top teeth push down hard against his bottom lip and his eyes shine up, feeling his little girl responding to the pressure applied by his hand. You smile watching him, feeling and waiting for her movements again, and your smile widens when he brings his eyes up to you. 

“My girl in there,” he says as he releases his bottom lip. He brings his right hand up to your cheek and brings his face to yours, kissing you softly. “And my girl out here.” He whispers, close to your face. He keeps his left hand against your belly as he kisses you again, and you want to abandon all preplanning and fuck him right here as he applies a deep pressure to your lips with his. He presses his forehead to yours as he breaks the kiss. “I can forgo dinner and ironing…” he says breathily, taking his hand from your belly. He brings it up to the other side of your face. He kisses you again gently, then you feel him smirk against your mouth. “...and a shower.” He giggles softly. “And we can just…” he kisses you again. “...stay here, and…” 

You place your hands against his slim hips, feeling the groove of his bones even through the material of his joggers. If he's standing to attention, it's lost on you by the way your belly prevents pulling his hips flat to yours in his position these days. God help you when your belly grows more! “Your suitcase is on the bed, the room looks like a bomb went off in Dunnes, and…” you draw your head back slightly. “If you don't get this packing finished beforehand, you'll be going to America in your boxers.” You smile at him, and he pokes his tongue out at your refusal to grant him what he wants - even though it is you who planted the seed! 

“I've only to get the trousers,” he raises his eyebrows. “And I'll put that yoke on the floor.” He jerks his head towards the bed. “C’mon….” He pushes out his bottom lip. “Can't be going away tomorrow with the horn for days.” You smirk at the needy voice he moans at you with. And sure, I'm all for it now. If we go and fuck about downstairs I might lose the wind form my sail and then we'll both be disappointed.” 

You smile at his analogy, “Finish this first.” You say, tapping your hands against his hips. “Then I'll finish you!” 

As you fill the dishwasher after dinner, Cillian disappears upstairs for a shower. It is close to half eight by the time you follow his path up the stairs. You push your way into the bedroom, tidied and neat again now after the earlier clothing explosion, and Cillian's case was beside the armchair in the corner, waiting to be dragged down the stairs in the morning. With Cillian still in the bathroom, you strip yourself of your clothes and bra, and pull an old oversized t-shirt style nightdress over your boy-short knickers. You're exhausted, and keen to curl up in bed and sleep snuggled up alongside Cillian for the night, but you are determined to have an intimate and exciting night. You want the memory of his smell and taste in his absence, and you want a reminder of the feelings you have been missing since your blowout argument. You're not especially horny yourself, but you're needy for him - after Valentine's morning you've been thinking about how it had made you feel to take oral sex further than you usually did; it had turned your on to turn him on in that way, and you want to do it again. 

Leaving your removed clothes in a pile by the chair, you drop down onto the bed and move up awkwardly until you're smack in the middle. You intended to cross your legs, but it hurt your hips, so you sit with your arms back and pushed into your mattress and your legs stretched out before you. You feel a zip of excitement in your stomach when you hear the bathroom door drag open and the sound of Cillian groaning as he steps out into the landing. The colder air hitting his skin must have bothered him. You stare at the door, waiting for him to step into the bedroom, and you know you're smiling like a fool when he finally appears through the doorway. 

“Well, missus,” he smirks. “What's that face for?” He asks, clutching his towel around his waist. His hair is dripping wet and his body hasn't even been modestly dried at all. He's all freckles and angles, moist chest hair and a silly smirk, and you wonder if it's a blow job you're going for or you've changed your mind and want to ride him til the morning. “What?” He smiles wider.

You grin at him again, “Drop the towel.” You raise your eyebrows. 

“I'm soaked, Y/N, and I'm fucking foundered.” He tuts, but he's smiling.

“I'll warm you up.” You giggle, feeling ridiculous. “C’mon - drop the towel. I want to do something.” 

He raises his right eyebrow, “Like what?” He's slightly nervous, but still he is smiling. 

“Make you cum,” you say, and it feels like a terrible porno, but you can't help yourself. How else do you put it? “...with my tongue.” you keep your eyes on him, fixed on his face, and he flips from amused to surprised remarkably quickly. “If you're not feeling it, that's fine. We can sit in that chair and fuck, or you can eat me out… but I wanted to send you to America with at least one reason to want to come home again quickly.” His face changes and you worry for a moment. 

“I've a million reasons to come home to you,” he says, earnestly, but his voice has thickened up so you know your words are turning him on. “You know that.” 

You draw down the corners of your mouth. “You haven't had sex with me since the fight.” You say, risking ruining the mood. “But you wanted it. I know you did. You did it yourself at least twice. Why haven't we had sex?” You watch his Adam's apple bounce as he swallows hard, you're not sure if it's embarrassment at you calling out his masturbating (which he knows you don't care about) or if he's thinking about any specific reason for the lack of sex. “I want to give you head, I want you to know I want to do it. And I want you to know I want you, and we can have sex whenever you want, even if we've been fighting because I know it's…I know it makes things better for you, being intimately connected like that. And I want to fuck you right now, but I've promised myself that I want to give you a blow job…the way you like but never say.” 

Cillian tilts his head and frowns, “I don't expect…” 

“I know you don't.” You cut him off. “I want to. Like, I really want to. It's actually turning me on so much, so if you'll drop the fucking towel, and show me everything, then you'll be making me as happy as I'll be making you.” 

He scoffs an awkward, embarrassed laugh and draws his bottom lip in with his upper teeth. His left eyebrow rises up again and he keeps his eyes fixed on you. Not releasing his lip, he breathes in deeply and lets the black towel drop to his feet. The angles of his hips draw you in first, and then your eyes fall to his bellybutton, down his dark happy trail, and to his grown but neat nest of dark pubic hair. He isn't exactly at full mast, but your words and the intentions are starting to have an influence - his penis is slowly moving away from his scrotum and thickening before your eyes. He shifts his legs slightly, and you know he feels exposed just standing there naked with you simply staring back at him. You can't help it, though; you dance your eyes around his whole body, drinking every inch of him in. Every hair, every freckle, every protruding bone and mark on his flesh, and every miniscule twitch of his anticipating cock. 

It's awkward with your hips and bump, but you push yourself up into your knees and shuffle towards the edge of your side of the bed. Staying high up on your knees, you hold out both hands. “C’mere,” you whisper softly, watching his face. After a moment of deep breathing, he walks towards you with his hands out. You don't take his hands, though. Instead, your hands around his freshly shaven face and press your hips hard against his. Immediately, his hands go to your arse cheeks - just peeking out beneath the hem of your nightie. You lay firm kisses against his marshmallow lips, moving your head to alternate pressure and taste every corner of his mouth. He gives the same pressure back, and runs his tongue across your bottom lip as you sigh into his mouth. You're certain you're needier than him right now, and you're not sure why. His hands knead against your bum and he pulls your body to his carefully - mindful of your position and or your belly - and you can feel his now fully at attention cock against your groin as he moves you closer. In your head you want to be on your knees and serving him, and for that you want him sitting. You draw back your head but keep his head held tightly in your hands. You nod towards the chair behind him in the corner. “Sit down.” 

He stares back at you, and those eyes of his are so intense it's nearly impossible to keep to your desired plan. “In the chair?” He says, and he's so husky that you know you have him in the palm of your hand. 

You nod your head slowly, “In the chair.” You repeat. You can see he's self-conscious about his nudity as he walks, frowning a little as he sits into the chair, and you stay kneeling on the bed as he looks back at you. When he goes to cross his right leg up onto his left, you shake your head. “No…” you smile softly. Reaching down for the hem of your nightshirt, you drag it off over your head and drop it down beside you on the bed. But for your underwear, you're now naked too. He looks back at you still, and he smiles ever so slightly into his left cheek. “Touch yourself.” You say, and you surprise yourself at the request just as much as you know you've surprised him. 

“What?” He scoffs. 

Going with it, especially as you feel an intense throbbing around your vulva, you nod your head. “Touch yourself,” you repeat..”I want to see. Show me what you do when I'm not there. What you'll do when you're in LA and I'm here.” He swallows hard, and you can hear it as clearly as you can see it. “...and I want to make sure you're fully ready, so I can take every last bit if you in.” You watch him swipe his tongue across his bottom lip. You shift a little so that you can come down off your knees, and move so that you're sitting on the edge of the bed, let's hanging over the side. “Please?” You're not sure if he'll comply, and if he says no you won't push it at all, but you can see something in his eyes that has you wondering which direction he'll go. Still, even in your indecisive mind, you're surprised when he casts his eyes away from yours and shyly reaches down with his right hand. You raise your eyebrows and bite down against your bottom lip as you watch him. 

He curls his right hand around his penis, and in one slow stroke draws the foreskin back gently. You watch as he shifts his hand slightly, and wonder then if he isn't a fan of when you resheath him. He makes sure his hand positioning would prevent that as he begins to slowly glide his hand back and forth. He keeps his thumb almost raised away from his body, more fucking his hand than stroking himself, and you can't take your eyes away. He moves slowly, in a way you would consider to be teasing him if you were giving him a hand, and then it occurs to you that he likes the slower, deeper movements and that that must be what he imagines. You watch as he finally closes his thumb down and begins stroking only right below the head, moving still in slow movements but in an enclosed palm. You can see he looks thicker, firmer, and you know he's making himself painfully ready for whatever you're offering. And still - still - he hasn't looked at you. You get down off the bed, dragging your pillow with you, and walk across the space to the chair. You drop the pillow at his feet and place your hands on his thighs for leverage as you get down onto your knees on the pillow. He stills his hand at your touch and releases himself, and his cock stands proudly, jolting slightly at its abandonment. Not that you'll leave him like that for long, you know, but what a sight it was a small, pearlescent droplet if precum oozes down the underside of his swollen head. 

He legs his legs drop wider, knees spreading, and you look up at him. His eyes are fixed on yours again now, and his pupils are blown wide. His cheeks are pink and his lips are bruised from his constant biting. You move towards between the space he has created for you and inhale his smell deeply as you get closer. You move both hands up to his hip bones, though you're not sure it's comfortable for either of you, and without touching him with a single finger, you lower yourself down over the head of his penis with your mouth open wide. As you close your lips around his thick shaft, he you hear his first breathy moan. Almost instnatly, his left hand cups around the back of your head. There's no pressure, no forcing, but the weight of his palm is there as his fingers pushed into your hair. You slowly sink down as far as you can, flattening the back of your tongue whilst cupping it around the underside of his cock. You practically lock your mouth into this position and glide up and down his full length in slow and seductive slides. He's breathing hard and loud - moaning in husky whispers - and you want to hear him like you did before. Little high-pitched moans, mewls almost, and you know that you'll get them if you just don't stop. You aim for a little more speed, and begin lifting and dropping your head quicker. You lap your tongue against the base of his head every time you pull back, then cup it around his entire underside as you sink back down again. You can feel a specific vein that runs underneath throbbing against your tongue, and each time his cock twitches it taps into your palate. He leaks precum almost in a rhythm - every time you sink your head back down and make a point of taking him to as far back in your throat as he'll go, you draw back with the delightfully unique taste of him falling onto the middle of your tongue. 

He's beginning to push his hips up, despite your hands against them, and you grant his persistence with even quicker movements of your head. You pull back and focus on the head, not that he's particularly large, but you consider that the head and half the half is going to achieve him what he's straining for. You move quickly, and even as you do his hand stays against the back of your head. He moves his legs back and forth beside you body - tightening around you before dropping open again - and you know how needy he is. You keep your lips rounded, and your tongue cupped, and you bob back and forth over the head of his cock. And there they come - those delightful sounds. 

“Uh…fuh… ah! Y/N…” he gasps, higher pitched and unintelligible. “Fuck…fuck…” he thrusts up towards your face, and you second guess your choices. You keep your quicker speed, but return to taking his entire length. Down as far as you can, back up with a lapping tongue. Down, up, down, up… his hand is heavy on your head and it pushes you down ever so gently, like he's sorry he's doing it. Down, up, down, up….your tongue is wrapped around his entire underside and he is almost constantly leaking down your throat. “Shit…shit…Y/N…shit…I'm…fuck…ahhh…” he thrusts up as you sink down and then sensation is a strange one as his cock twitches violently three times towards your palate. It isn't a nice feeling, but it isn't gag-inducing either. He cums hard towards the back of your mouth, and those spurting feelings you adore inside of you have a different sensation in your mouth. His fingers bend and flex in your hair, and he continues to huff high, breathy moans. “Jesus…fuck…ah…fuck.” You wait until the violent twitches have stopped before you slowly draw back your head, swallowing whatever remains in your throat as quickly as you can. His hand drops form your hair. 

You sit back a little and glide your hands up and down his thighs. His head is back against the chair back, and his mouth is wide open as he sucks in air. His cock, still swollen, sits back against his pubes and his balls still sit tightly up high. You move your hands up his legs and slowly run your right index finger up the underside of his sensitive penis. He huffs a laugh through his nose and his legs twitch dramatically..

“Ah, no… stop…,” he's smiling but his over-sensitive penis cannot take another second of attention. He sighs, his head still back, and drops his eyes straight to you. “You are…fucking good at that.” 

You smile at him widely. “I kinda got that by the fact that your cock was treating my soft palate like a bouncy castle.” He giggles and his tongue pushes out between his teeth. You place your hands on his thighs again and push yourself up to your feet awkwardly. “Love you, my love, but I can't sit on my feet any longer.” You laugh, stretching your back as you stand. “Stay there,” you hold out your hand as he moves a little. “Get your strength back because I can't carry you to bed.” 

He holds out both of his arms, though you can see he's putting effort into it to keep his sated body working. He opens and closes his hands and you reach yours out to him. He interlocks your fingers and drags you close. Once you're back between his knees, you bend down and grant him the kiss he's silently demanding. You wonder if he tastes himself, because you still can. “I love you,” he says as he draws his head back again. His eyes are sleepy and his face is still flushed. 

“If you don't wank yourself off to that while you're in America, I'm going to be so mad!” You smiling widely. 

“It's always you,” he says, frowning softly. “Always.” 

[sashi-ya]

𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗹𝗱 𝗺𝘆𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘆. barista! ulquiorra cifer x f! reader. nsfw

request: Ulquiorra and fem!Reader "discovering" each other, the way innocent creatures do. They're both completely inexperienced and try making their way around each other, at times she's too yielding, maybe he's somewhat forceful (in the "isn't this what I'm supposed to be doing?" kind of way), being completely mesmerised by her foreign to him self (maybe only half aware of that). Cute and a little bit dark ("you've forfeited your right to belong to another. you have given yourself to me, and must accept the consequences of your foolish action." or something emo like that lol). Bonus points for ONNA, but I'll understand if you skip it ;) Thank you for filling whichever one, or just for reading <3 a/n: hi anon! of course love!! it's a little long but I love to write for Ulqui so I hope you enjoy 💙 tw: +18 mdni. first time together. discovering each other. oral g/r. masturbating g/r. romantic (as romantic as ulquiorra can be) love making. rough in the end. open to interpretation wether you want them to be virgins or not. wc: 3.8k masterlist

While your lips suck on a paper straw, your eyes are only focused upon “an emerald mystery”. 

Those smaragdine eyes, that pale skin that seems it’s never seen the sun, hair and nails as black as onyx. The barista always works alone, at the back, almost hidden, as if he forced himself not to talk, not to speak to any person around. 

He is delicate, metodic; pouring coffee, milk and syrups, everyday he prepares the drink you pay for. But, at least from what you know, he has never once looked at you. It’s ok; you wouldn’t know how to begin a conversation with him either way; your knowledge regarding men is quite limited. 

“What are you looking at?” that beautiful ginger woman asks with a tray of sweets in her hands. 

“Uh! Nohting. Sorry, were you telling me something?” you ask her; she is the owner of that small bakery in Karakura town. 

She smiles sweetly, and serves you a variety of sweet breads. There are buns filled with strawberry and cream, others with crème pâtissière and some others with jam. 

“Ah! Are these new?” you ask, happy. Since it opened you have been visiting her bakery. However, just recently -at least a couple of months ago- she hired a barista. That handsome, pale and “emo” one you enjoy looking at. 

“Yes! I’ve been craving a lot more of those recently, so I wanted to add them to the menu. Please try them, those are on the house ~” she says, tracing little circles on her lower belly. 

Ah, she must be pregnant… How cute! 

“Ulquiorra-kun!” she turns around, calling the -up until now unnamed- barista. “Please make our best client the new cappuccino! Add cinnamon to it, don’t forget! Ah… cinnamon…” she goes away, with her index on her cheek, thinking perhaps about a new recipe. 

You flush, feeling your heart beat faster and your legs becoming bouncy from those two green eyes looking straight towards your table.

He is looking at me… he is looking at me! 

Soon, maybe sooner than expected, he personally brings you a new cup. His pale hands, slender, handsome, arrange the beverage on the table. Perhaps he takes more time than what it would normally take someone to serve a customer. 

“Here. “Little Bun Cappuccino” – or uh- something like that I don’t know” he comments; letting you know he indeed has a voice. A very low toned, but deadly voice. 

“Thank you… Ulquiorra ~” you dare to mention his name, catching his attention for longer than a couple of seconds. 

He nods, looking straight into the ground immediately after and as he goes back to his “cave”.  You giggle; now you know what he actually reminds you of. A bat! 

It took at least a couple of months for you two to finally share a somehow proper conversation; the boss, Orihime, left her bakery to Ulquiorra while her pregnancy made her stay at home more often. She still visited and worked there, but the closer it got to her due date, the less she attended…

“Good afternoon ~” you salute, happy to see his emerald big orbs gain a little shine when you cross the door. 

“It is technically already night” Ulquiorra corrects you with a tint of reproach in his tone. 

It is true, you weren’t able to make it earlier at the café. You had to stay at Uni for longer than expected today. 

“Sorry; I have a lot to study… I might need the strongest, blackest coffee you could make me! Like a black hole!” you chime, letting your bag flop into the ground while you climb the stool. Those days when you sat back at a table belong in the past; now, you sit right at the counter, close to him. 

Ulquiorra diligently prepares exactly what you’ve asked for; though you should be a little more careful with your requests as he can take things very literally. 

He places a white cup filled up to the brim with indeed a liquid that looks like a pure void, closer to dark matter in it. He does by bending forward, enough for her nose to almost reach yours. 

“女… Here. Drink. I’m closing soon, wait for me?” straight to the point, Ulquiorra asks you… even if he didn’t actually need to ask. 

Pleased, you sip on your cup, and nod energetically while you do. It took time, but you have become very comfortable around him. 

Amazingly, the coffee tastes good. And, as always, the temperature is just right for you. He has mastered his technique only and just to adjust to your likings, something he didn’t think was “the sweetest thing ever” but still was to you. 

The “bat boy” prepares everything for the closing time, turning the machines off, making sure everything that belongs into the fridge is indeed inside of it. He then starts washing the last few cups and plates left, while he seems a little troubled, even fidgety. Something is on his mind, something he might need to ask.

“What is it?” you utter, fixed on the black matter slowly swirling inside the cup. “You seem uneasy, what is going on?” 

Ulquiorra turns the tap off; still silent. He sighs and finally drops the bomb. 

“Are you staying late at your uni because you have a romantic interest there?” he asks, seriously, without a single hint of emotion. 

You look him in the eyes, confused. Slowly, as you let the cup over the counter, you turn your head to the side. A romantic interest he says? Your only romantic interest is actually him… 

“Ulqui… I- you…” you are left speechless for some time. Thinking of the right choice of words -on a very innocent and inexperienced mental book- you scratch your head before talking. “Are you asking this because you wanna know or because you are jealous?”

You immediately wanna slap yourself; why would you ask something like that instead of telling him the evident truth; you two were silently dating, but none of you dared to acknowledge it. 

“How can I be jealous if I don’t know if you have or not a romantic interest?” he asks, making a very good point. 

You laugh, cutely. It only makes him blink a couple of times more than usual. And maybe, perhaps, his heart beat a lot faster than ever. 

“I do have a romantic interest, but is not from uni” you comment, playing with a used paper napkin to avoid looking straight into his eyes. 

“Ah…” he mutters, this time a little sad. 

“Don’t you wanna know his name?” you ask, playfully. What an absolute cute dork he can be. 

“No, it wouldn’t change a thing” he answers, right away. Ulquiorra turns around and keeps doing his work. Now he has become even more silent than ever; virtually, a mute. 

You do as well; speechless for real this time. WHAT? HOW- AH!! 

“You know what? I’m heading home now, I’m sorry… I’m tired” you murmur, with a lump in your throat. Apparently he doesn’t really care, nor is he jealous. He was simply… curious?

Ulquiorra keeps drying his hands with a white cloth, looking a little mad you are leaving but still without saying a single word.

You give him a “sad smile”, almost ironic, mad and hurt, and turn around without looking back. Yet, before you could cross the door, you stop.

“By the way, my “romantic interest” is called Ulquiorra” you spit, ready to disappear. After such a revelation, that shouldn’t even take him as a surprise, you need to escape such deadly silence that’s loud and also violent. 

You get stopped by a cold hand wrapped around your wrist just before you leave.

“Wait, Onna” he says, pulling you to get back inside.

“What do you want?” you sigh, turning around with teary eyes.

The bat man takes a deep breath before talking. “You like me?” he asks, almost amazed by how someone could think about him that way. 

You sigh; defeated. He didn’t tell by now? 

“Of course I do ~” you murmur, shy, looking at his hand still tightly gripped from your wrist. 

He takes some time to think; a little too much. It feels like an eternity, while you wait for him to say something, to do something. You swallow incipient tears, those that were about to fall right after you let him know about your feelings. 

“Then you are not scared of me?” he says, making absolutely no sense. Why would you? 

You shake your head, quickly, denying such stupid question. 

Suddenly, then, Ulquiorra pulls you -in a rather violent swing- closer to him. So much closer, enough for your body to crash with his.

The tension in between you both can be compared with the strength of a lighting; for the very first time, your emo boy is finally holding you into his arms; the scent of his skin, so soft and fresh, hits you like the last spark necessary to light up the fire in your heart. 

It is almost impossible to stop you from kissing or biting his pristine white skin; how can someone be that pale? Isn’t that an unspoken invitation to left marks on it? 

You slither, just a little, for your nose to reach the small of his neck. Though you first aim for his right cheek; a subtle peck that paralyzes your lover. Then, the little protrusion of his jugular, of his muscles tensing become a deadly temptation you can’t dismiss…

Would it be so wrong for you to finally attack such a divine alluring place? 

It’s fast; it’s subtle. It’s daring, as well, especially for him. However, in terms of delicacy, this kiss will be the last since Ulquiorra doesn’t really know how to be particularly…soft. As you, he is completely clueless, allowing his needs and instincts to guide him from now on. 

“You have chosen me, then? No other person, but me? Are you sure you want me, Onna? ” he asks, passing his index underneath your chin to lift your head up and face him. 

“No other, but you… It is you who I want…” you whisper back, becoming the epitome of devotion. 

In a sudden rapt of desperation, his lips crash with yours. You can feel his front teeth against yours, but still, you don’t mind. Even if it’s a little too much, you are amazed to discover a hidden feral creature.

Many kisses, that clumsily evolve into passionate ones, make you slowly allow your body to relax. So much your arms surround his neck, you need support… maybe your legs are failing, maybe your body only wishes to be handled by his hands only. 

During one of those little pauses you take to breathe in between brutal making out, you mention the need to definitely close the bakery; anyone could enter, anyone could see from the sidewalk such lewd spectacle. 

Ulquiorra agrees and only separates from you to press the button to close the metallic curtains down. Those seconds feel eternal; come back, I need more of your kisses… please.

The emerald eyed man comes back right after; now, nothing can interfere in between you and him. He strikes you like a spear, back at your lips. His hands, welcome back the indentation of your waist, squeezing, palpating, enjoying how your flesh feels against his palm. 

Tripping, you take little steps back. Enough you do, until your ass hits the table you used to seat at when you met him for the very first time. There, exactly there, is where Ulqui desires to take you. 

Your back bends over, adopting the table’s form until you end up laying flat. His arms land one on each side, your legs spread open on their own to let his slim body fit in between. 

The “bat” man takes a look at your body; he seems to be more than attracted, perhaps even more than curious; his façade shows an expression you’ve never seen before… lust. 

He lusts for you, his body does, his eyes do, and his heart does. 

Ulquiorra bends over your body; he doesn’t want to kiss you now, though. He only needs to uncover your anatomy, discovering what’s hiding underneath your clothing. 

“You are going to show me your body; you won’t say anything but "yes", Onna” he says, scaring you just a little. 

“That’s… a little harsh” you whisper; and despite your words, your hips buck up in a desperate attempt of your core to meet his. 

Ulquiorra frowns, confused. Isn’t this what he is supposed to do with a woman that pleads for him?

“However, I want to say yes to you, to everything you wish and want… so, yes… Ulquiorra-kun~” you answer, meekly, obediently, wickedly. 

He sighs; his brain getting completely taken over by a dark fog of sexual, obscene, pornographic imagery. So much it leads him to rip your blouse apart and expose your chest to him. His fingers act like claws, like a thirsty monster. 

You whine in response; your back arching accompanies the blouse opening. You allow Ulquiorra to finally witness the blooming of your biteable breasts. 

In fact, because of that, he pounces right to your chest; he needs more, he wants to see more. And more is what he gets, as he continues to undress you fully. 

You want to do the same, although his energy is not easily surpassed. However, you rely on a special weapon; your lips, your voice, your smutty pleads…

“Take your shirt off, Ulqui-kun… please ~” you purr, pulling from one of his sleeves. 

You would lie if you said you didn’t dream with this moment many times, but now that you can see the pale extents of his chest you can say it’s even better.

You also discover a round scar over where his heart is; your fingertips trace the bumpy traces of regenerated skin, wondering what could have caused such mark. 

Ulquiorra grabs your hand to stop you from touching, you can tell. “I will explain later…” he lets you know, taking your hand to his lips, placing a sweet kiss on your fingers and pinning it back against the table. 

You tremble; that warm peck, the feeling of pure connection… you are discovering what it feels to be praised, loved and devoured by a man you love. 

But his kisses do not limit to your lips and fingers, and sooner you have him leaving wet traces on every inch of your neck, chest, breasts and belly. Down, down he goes until the cold metallic button of your skirt meets his chin. 

“I will take this off” he comments; even with no experience and perhaps a violent approach, he asks for consent in his own ways. And you, of course, allow him to go as far as he wishes for. 

“Yes, Ulquiorra…”   you moan, while he continues to squeeze your breasts with his free hand. 

Fast enough, he frees the button of your skirt and lifts it up until your waist. He takes some time to admire the wet patch in between your legs, and the way your knee-high socks squeeze enough the skin of your thighs. 

Lost in temptation and dark thoughts, he bends over again; his tiny precious nose reach your core, he desires to watch, but also to smell and taste. 

You squirm at his now delicate approach; “Your sex is wet…” he mutters, and he does it so close to it you can even feel the warmth of his breath. “Stay still…” 

As if it were so easy, Ulquiorra Cifer!

He first enjoys your womanly perfume and then takes his tongue to trace little circles still over your panties. Your legs tend to close, but his hands squeeze them enough to keep them opened. 

“Open, keep them opened” he continues, while his indexes curl on the hem of your lingerie to pull them down. 

You can only nod, trying to see what his expressions look like while he discovers your sex for the very first time. It’s pointless, you can’t see his face when he finally buries his tongue in between the slit of your flower. 

This time you spasm a lot harder, tensing, blind searching for something to grab. And soon, his hair ends up tangled around your fingers, while he blesses you with an oral delight. 

Still a little clumsy, he manages to suck and relish every little drop of your honeys; to lick, to taste and stimulate every corner, every bump and hardness of your feminine anatomy. His fingers also become curious, playing with, sliding in and out of your entrance. 

You contort in response, carving your heels on his waist, discovering that this could be the very start of ecstasy. 

“Onna, your flavour… I like it, I like it so much” Ulquiorra grunts, emerging from your core and topping you back again. He crawls and slides his hands underneath your waist to pull your whole body down so that your core gets closer to his. 

He kisses your lips with still salty traces of your heat. You try to lift your back from the table, but he won’t allow you. You are trapped underneath that slim man, showing you that despite his body build he is way stronger than you. 

You shiver; squeezing both of his arms, with your nails chiselled into his skin. Sloppy eyelids covering prasine orbs look at you, while his fingers haven’t stopped playing with your sex. He learnt already that the more he hit your upper wall, the more you pant and gasp.

His black jeans fall to the ground of that bakery during some unknown moment you can’t quite recall; you don’t mind, though. You are amazed by the way his muscles create a perfect V, and in between the valley of his protruding hip bones down, his hardness shows itself. 

Your hand, unable to stay still, squirms from Ulqui’s grab and tries to reach the bulge in between his legs. You can barely touch, but you can already tell it has become the warmest spot on his body; you can also tell it is throbbing, yearning to be engulfed and surrounded by either your palms, or most definitely your milking walls. 

“What are you doing, woman?” he asks, while he keeps on masturbating you and biting every inch of your neck. 

“I wanna touch you…” you moan, trying to sound logical while your brain has turned into a mush of pleasure and desire. 

“You wanna touch me? Then do” he growls, with a voice that it is still soft and calmed but definitely soaked in lust. 

You widen your eyes; in between his forearm showing some protruding veins, showing muscles tensed to keep fingering you with proficiency, you see his boxer briefs slide down his hips and legs. 

Exposed, now, his shaft lays erect; so erect, it rests on his lower belly on an almost straight line. And it is pale as he is, even perhaps a little more. Also sprinkled by plumped veins, and a pinkish tip, it drips precum in a desperate attempt to honour its main purpose: seed. 

He comes closer, standing by your side and never once letting your folds go and much less the tiny button you have proven him to be your perdition. 

Clumsy and a little embarrassed you reach for his manhood, getting your palm coated of his transparent droplets. You know how to do it, you aren’t stupid; yet, when it comes to him, you feel like a virginal nymph. 

Slowly, you begin to touch, amazed by the reaction of an impassable Ulquiorra turn into rapt. When you increase the rhythm of the pumps, you enjoy his sharp mandible tensing and the way he throws his head back… oh, his slightly long hair raining on his nape, his lips separating just enough to let manly moans escape in between his front teeth. 

Such imagery impulses you to do more and more. Pulling him softly against you, the tip of your tongue catches the fine dripping thread of precum first, guiding his sex right into your wet mouth then. 

Ulquiorra gasps; to feel your lips surrounding his sex, to feel the dampened warmth of your mouth trapping his hardness… weak, that man has found his kryptonite… while his hips beg for more and automatically begin ramming against your throat. 

You don’t mind; in fact, the gagging that also blurs your eyes with little tears, makes it even hotter for you. But this is just the start, and while you enjoy him fucking your mouth, that lonely barista you once met needs to be buried deep, very deep inside of you. 

It takes all of his inner strength to finally take his manhood out of your mouth; He manages to do so, keeping in mind how much better it will feel once he gets to dive inside your heat. And so, moved by such desire, he abandons your side to crawl right in between your legs once more. 

This time, there is nothing he can say. He can’t ask, he can’t communicate he will indeed fuck you hard. He simply lets his eyes speak for him, fixed into yours, letting you know what his heart truly desires… he lusts for you, he lusts for your body, but most importantly, he lusts to become one in such sinful reunion of the flesh… 

No need to move, your sex is conveniently placed by the limits of the table so that Ulquiorra can reach just right. You wonder what will be able to clean the surface but now is not the time to regret any of your actions. 

He doesn’t really need to guide his shaft, as it reaches your entrance by simply crawling a little on top of you. You can feel his throbbing tip, clumsily but surely, sliding right in, giving you that first taste of heaven. 

You hug him, palms wide open caressing his back. You can feel it on your touch, the way his spine and shoulder blades move when he begins to go in and out of you. At first, he does slow, matching the pace of the sloppy kisses you both share. 

But then, as both become hungry, insatiable, addicted to the pleasure you want more… more, more… faster, harder, rougher… 

Ulqui’s back arches, his hips turn into violent hammers, the ramming is almost too strong for you to tolerate. Both bite each other’s flesh, leaving marks and purple reminders of your pass. 

Whines and moaning. Grunting, panting, desperately… in and out, slapping skins, wet noises… 

Fingers intertwined with yours, plastered against the table, squeezing your hands in romantic, but still concupiscent reaction to an arriving climax… 

“Onna… this is the first time I am able to see the colours of your eyes” he sighs, loudly, exhausted, still twitching as he finishes in and out of your core.

“The "colours" ?” you ask, relaxing your body after an intense orgasm.

“I can’t see colours… but your eyes, this is the very first time I’ve seen any colour at all…” 

Who would have said he did not only looked and acted like a bat, he was also colourblind… colourblind, except for your eyes 💚 ~  

[fluemsiie]

our family [ j. ackles ]

synopsis. you need jensen to come back home. notes. 1.3k words, breastfeeding, depression, mentions of ppd, not proof read, happy birthday jensen <3 — comments & rbs appreciated.

jensen’s been filming for a while, and by a while, you mean for freakin’ months. he can’t catch a break and so you did what any sane person does— you moved to vancouver all the way from texas just to be close to him. it took a lot of planning, and way too much money, but you weren’t letting your husband stay at a different country alone anymore, it was taking a toll on both your mental health and your relationship.

not to mention your daughter always asking for daddy, where he is, can she go out with him; it’s breaking your heart as much as it is his and so you decided to settle for a smaller apartment near where they were filming.

you’d say it helped your mental health but that would be a lie. ever since you had your daughter you knew something had been seriously wrong. you’re unmotivated to move out of bed, you try to do everything you need to in your room, hardly go out to see anyone but her. anything you need to go do, you have delivered. if the whole ‘not moving’ thing wasn’t hurting you, then the fact that you let your body go a little is fucking breaking you.

you don’t think anything has ever been so wrong in your life, nothing goes the way it should and it seems like you can’t fix it no matter what you do which is disappointing considering you’re a mother now. a mother. you’re supposed to know everything and have all the answers.

and despite moving to be closer to him, leaving behind your own family, something not a lot of people would do, he still spends some nights at jared’s (because gen is still in texas, like you should be).

except there’s also another thing jensen has no idea about; you got diagnosed with depression shortly before you made the move, it’s a big reason why you did the move in the first place. you thought it was past partum but you made sure to actually get diagnosed before telling jen and since you won’t be harming yourself or your baby girl, you decided he didn’t need to know.

he’s been so busy since he decided to start directing too and you’re insanely proud of him, even if you’re having a hard time. but you don’t wanna risk it so here you are, alone in a city you’ve visited only a handful of times with your two year old daughter.

but today’s by far one of your worst days. you tried taking some pills, just pain killers, you aren’t comfortable taking pills for whatever’s wrong with you, you can’t risk hurting any future babies. it isn’t like you don’t believe in them— you’re a nurse, of course you do, but you also know they could hurt you long term, it’s not worth it.

some days it seems like it’s just not worth it. you pick up your phone to call jensen. it takes a few rings but then he responds and you sigh in relief. you honestly thought he wouldn’t pick up, “hey.”

“what’s wrong? are you okay?” it catches you by surprise but when you recover you tell him you and rhyme are great. “i mean you, sweetheart. you sound off.”

you don’t sound that off. definitely not enough for him to pick it up the second you greet him. not that you’re complaining, maybe if he knows what’s wrong he’ll get home faster. jensen’s always helped you in ways he wouldn’t even believe— he’s your life force at times and you’re not sure what you’d do without him, especially now when you need him.

and he’s not neglectful, he took your first four months off from filming and had his sister stay with you for the other two. he’s always put your needs in front of filming but you don’t want to be overbearing.

“when are you getting home? i’m making your favorite.”

“yeah? ‘m not too sure. twelve-thirty, give or take.” which is code for ‘don’t wait up’ so you wake up and find out he never made it home, just crashed on set or at jay’s

“okay.” you can’t bring yourself to ask him to come home even if you don’t doubt he will. jen’s working because he loves his job, sure, but it’s also to provide for you, he wouldn’t want to hurt you over something he’s doing for you in the first place. and you know all that, you just wish you’d always be logical enough to remember it. 

“is that it?” god, this is conflicting. you know you need him right now, you just can’t get the words out. “sweetheart?”

“yeah.” 

It’s a beat before he responds. “i’m coming home at twelve with dinner. don’t cook anything.” he ends the call and you’re smiling. it’s no surprise he figured you needed him, but you couldn’t be happier to have someone that cares enough to come when you call, despite your call being ominous and downright needy.

+

it’s the third time you’ve started frozen because rhyme doesn’t understand that when a movie ends you start a new one, all while breastfeeding her. it’s gotten significantly easier as she nears two years old, she just sits next to you instead of you having to kill your back, and she honestly does it for ten minutes maximum before she gets bored.

and at this point she’s tried everything from lamb to mashed fruit, milk is hardly a full meal to her. but your doctor said it’s best to try and breastfeed her until she hits the 22 month mark. she’s nearing 20 months now.

when she’s done, and else is singing ‘let it go’ with rhyme as her background vocalist, you get up to get started on dinner. jensen said to not make anything which means he’s ordering take out himself but you should probably make sure the counter is clean and that there’s a salad to go with the food.

just as you’re done cleaning the table, the front door opens and your shoulder fall in relief. you didn’t even know you were raising them. you hear his footsteps all the way to the living room, where rhyme runs into her dads arms and lifts her up effortlessly. 

he turns to you, sees you standing in your open kitchen and walks over to kiss your hair softly. “hey, baby girl.” 

rhyme laughs and hugs him tighter. well, the endearment is yours as much as it is hers, you’re both his girls. 

“thanks for coming home, jen.”

“don’t do that, don’t thank me for that. i should’ve known it bothered you— and you should’ve told me earlier.”

“it doesn’t always! just when i need you and then i wake up and i just don’t find you.” days where the depression is just, god, it’s horrible. days when you can’t take rhyme crying because you can’t find the toy she lost or when she’s hungry and you’ve only slept two hours, waiting for his text to confirm he’s safe and at home. 

“baby, i can’t always read your mind, sometimes you gotta help me out.” you nod quickly and he kisses his daughter before putting her down. 

“foor?” food. he nods, placing the bag onto the table. you’ve been teaching her german so she confuses d’s for r’s. you’re not too sure how that came to be but you don’t question it because she’s been saying words in german.

the smell hits you all at once, and your heart practically squeezes itself. jensen drove to your favourite restaurant thirty minutes away. it makes your home country’s food the most authentically and you’ve always loved feeling at home. 

“jensen, seriously?” he smiles and you’re the one who throws yourself into his arms this time, his little girl, not quite understanding, joins in. and you’re not sure how you would’ve gotten through today without him coming back home to his girls.

[loganwritesprobably]

Hurt/Comfort (the comfort is sex)

Tags/Warnings: Shanks/AFAB!Reader/Mihawk, she/they reader, hurt/comfort (the comfort is sex), shy!reader, established relationship, double penetration two holes, fellatio, spanking, rough sex, cum eating, cream pie Word Count: 1293 A birthday gift written for @mermaniaa

It had been such a long day. Usually, you’d have been more resilient, but not today. Today, the world seemed to just weigh a little heavier on your shoulders and so you tucked yourself away in your room, knees pulled to your chest, face wet with tears. You’d felt ridiculous for breaking down, but sometimes you just couldn’t help it. Nothing much had even happened, everything just felt that little bit more overwhelming than usual. When Mihawk found you, he’d wrapped you up in his arms and gently brushed away the lingering tears, and suggested that he and Shanks make you feel better. You knew the two men well enough by now to know what that would involve, and you said yes, almost eagerly. You hated to seem needy, and talking about intimacy often left you speechless, struggling to convey your wants and needs, but thankfully they found your shyness endearing. 

When Shanks joined you, it didn’t take long for the three of you to be disrobed, and have your hands on each other’s bodies.

Shanks sighed softly as he sunk into your heat, Mihawk humming appreciatively at the view, stroking himself slowly to maintain hardness but not truly bring himself pleasure. You looked wonderful spread so widely, with his hands holding your ankles, pulling your knees back to your shoulders so the swordsman could bask in the heavenly image the two of you made. There was always something so special about the three of you together and the love you could make, the chemistry between you lighting up and making you all insatiable, until at least four rounds later. You’d always been shy about it, their beautiful princess, struggling to share what you wanted in moments of intimacy, and before, flushing darkly in a way they both found incredibly sweet, and a turn on in Shanks’ case. Innocence had always been a thing for him. Shanks rocked his hips slightly, not fully thrusting into you, just moving enough to drive you crazy, and force whatever you were thinking about out of your head. 

You couldn’t help whining, lip pulled between your teeth, needy for more but unable to ask for it.

“What is it, dearest?” Mihawk asked, a small smirk playing at his lips. He knew, of course he did, but the game was to try to get you to say it. You only whined again, attempting to grind yourself down on Shanks for more.

“Oh I don’t think so pretty girl.” Shanks said, moving one hand from around your ankle to wrap instead around your middle, including your thighs, to hold you in place. You whimpered pitifully, and you just about caught the hungry look on Mihawk’s face.

“I think they might want something, love.” He said to Shanks, who chuckled lowly against your ear, you could feel the sound just as much as you heard it. 

“I think you might be right, Hawkeyes. Should we give it to her?” He asked, slowly licking up the shell of your ear.

“Perhaps we should. Or maybe she should ask for it, like a good girl.” Mihawk’s voice was honey thick, the words oozing from his lips and lighting a fire inside you, making you ever more desperate, and wetter around Shanks’ cock.

“I know they can do it, we’ve seen it before, shame they don’t want to right now. I guess they don’t want any more than this then.” And that was too far, to suggest you weren’t eager and desperate for them, whimpering and whining for them and them alone.

“Please.” You managed to breathe out, just barely, the sound only audible because Shanks had stopped moving entirely in his effort to make you speak your desires. 

“What was that, darling?” Mihawk asked, shuffling closer to you to rest a hand on your thigh, making you bite your lip - even the simplest of their touches drove you wild.

“Please! Need- need you.” You managed, your face only flushing darker, and you couldn’t help squeezing your eyes shut as if to hide from your own embarrassment.

“Good girl.” Shanks whispered, voice dark and husky. For a second, the tension of the room was as thick as it could get, like an elastic pulled to full extension, and then it snapped, and then everything was happening. Shanks flipped you both over, pressing your body down into the mattress as he lifted your hips. You turned your head so you could breathe better, and found Mihawk in front of you with his dick in hand.

Slowly, with a loud, heady groan Shanks pushed back inside you, grunting as he bottomed out, barely able to wait for a moment before he began to fuck you. He struggled so much more than Mihawk to restrain himself, especially when he knew exactly what you wanted, but he couldn’t deny that you were so beautiful when you were shy and needy. Mihawk waited a moment for you to adjust, just watching the pleasure on your face, before he stepped forward, taking some of your hair in hand to get your attention. You opened your mouth before your eyes, mostly on instinct, and were greeted by his dick just centimetres from your lips.

“Well done, darling. You’ve done such a good job learning how to please us.” He looked and sounded so proud, and it was dizzying. He slowly pushed into your mouth, and then allowed you to do as you pleased. He’d never had complaints about your head before, he wasn’t going to start guiding you now.

It was easy to get distracted by Shanks pounding into you, temporarily stealing your attention as he hit your gspot over and over, but a quick swat on your ass was enough to remind you what you were meant to be doing. You sucked Mihawk eagerly, happy to do it, eager to make your lover feel good. He worked so hard, he deserved it, and you wanted to taste his cum. It usually wasn’t something that you were particularly interested in, but you loved to do it with them, your men. 

Shanks was no slouch when it came to sex, but it’d been a while since the three of you had indulged together, so you weren’t surprised when his hips began to stutter, his rhythm faltering as he came closer to orgasm.

“Gonna fill you up, sweet girl. Make sure you can feel my love inside you.” Shanks grunted, kissing down your spine, fingers digging into your hips as he fucked into you. Just a few thrusts later, and he bottomed out inside you again, filling you with his seed. You never faltered your own movements, hollowing your cheeks to bring Mihawk closer to orgasm. The swordsman made hardly any sound, the only sign of his pleasure being the soft pants that escaped him whenever your tongue moved just so. Finally, in an uncharacteristic moment of impatience, Mihawk pulled out from your mouth and took himself in hand. He stroked himself quickly, head tilting back from his pleasure. You tilted your head further, so when he finally came, he coated your face and neck with his seed.

Reluctantly, Shanks pulled out of you, but then crouched down to press his tongue inside you, eating his own cum from inside you eagerly. He ate like a man starved, his tongue moving expertly to bring you more pleasure until you came like that, his face pressed to your core, Mihawk’s cum on your face. The swordsman dragged a finger across your face with a smile, bringing his cum to your lips for you to take, sucking gently on his finger to clean it.

When they were done, they took their posts either side of you, holding you close, pressing kisses to your skin.

Tags: @cainnoable @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots @categoryace

If you'd like to tip me and get exclusive ficlets, Kofi

[walkingnearfoxes]

The Space Between the Lines (Homelander x Reader) - Chapter 5

1.6k words. 18+. Warnings for the Homelander being the Homestalker. She/Her Teacher Reader. 

There are a dozen teachers who would kill for this job. You’re just not sure that you’re one of them.

For a brief and insane moment, you consider making a break for it. You glance at the tables dotting the cafe and consider the quickest way to bound between them. The back alley isn’t a far exit. 

Then, the unfortunate logic sets in. Even if you somehow made the Olympic hurdling necessary to get to the exit in time, what good would it do? He's here to unsettle you, you know that for sure; fleeing would give him the win. On top of that, you have become increasingly aware of his remarkably powerful senses. He can uniquely detect your heartbeat in a city. He can smell a change in deodorant brands you made two weeks ago. You wouldn't be surprised if he could read your mind.

 You shift from running to remaining frozen in your seat in three seconds.

To his credit, the Homelander does not make a beeline straight towards you. In fact, after that private wink, he moves about with his fans leisurely. He takes more selfies, signs t-shirts, and thanks the great people for coming out. Only you, and perhaps your friends, can detect how each greet of a fan brings him closer and closer to you.

"Do you want to leave?" Penny whispers to you, oblivious to your mental gymnastics.

You shake your head. "No point."

"What do we do, then?" Addie hisses; the rare twinge of fear in her voice unsettles you further.

You shake your head. "Enjoy the circus."

Mere moments later, the Homelander is standing beside your table. He puts on the perfect show of widening his eyes and letting out an airy laugh of surprise. "Well, what do you know?" He greets loudly. "If it isn't my favorite teacher?"

Suddenly, over two dozen cameras and phones aim at your face. You manage a smile - though based on the Homelander's expanding show of teeth, it doesn't sell. You slowly stand up. "Hi, Homelander."

His showmanship decides that isn't good enough of a greeting. Before you can fully comprehend what's happening, he hugs you. You hear awes and coos from the crowd, and you don't necessarily blame them; it’s a damn nice hug. He smells slightly different than he does in the penthouse; you don't detect a cologne, but you feel transported to the sky. He brings the breeze of flying with him and curls it into his natural scent; he captures flight. His arms are tight around your lower back and for a split moment, it tricks you into feeling secure. Safe. Then, you remember that those same arms can rip you apart like you’re made of twigs.

"Enjoying this gorgeous day?" Homelander asks as he pulls away slightly, his hands remaining on your waist. "You've earned it. Ryan's been talking my ear off about Benjamin Franklin."

He continues to grin at you as your mind cartwheels to make sense of this. Hadn't Vought made you sign a dozen NDAs to never publicly speak about this job? Wasn't it supposed to be a secret to everyone that you were teaching Ryan? You had only told Addie, who in turn had only told Penny. And here was the Homelander, broadcasting your job for the world to see. Even the rules he creates himself do not apply to him.

For the sake of the cameras, you force a laugh. It sounds nowhere near your usual laugh and judging from the Homelander's slightly fuddled brow, he's aware. "I...I'm glad," You force out. "He's such a good student."

He gives your waist a little pat and then releases you, only for one hand to end up on your shoulder. He turns you to face Addie and Penny. They're both staring at you as if they're witnessing a murder, but he keeps on smiling. "Sorry to interrupt ladies, but I couldn't stop by without saying hi."

Addie is too horrified to speak, but Penny forces a smile up her lips. She’s always been the better actress. "It's…no problem at all for our favorite hero."

"That is so sweet, but teachers like your friend here are the real heroes," Homelander says, squeezing your shoulder. “Right, Addie?"

Addie visibly flinches when her name comes out of his mouth. Unable to disguise her reaction, she hesitantly nods, "Y-yeah. Of course."

You, meanwhile, are trying to steady your breathing. You know for a fact that you have never mentioned Addie's name to him.

"Well, I won't take up more of your precious time off," Homelander grins down at you. "I'll see you on Monday, alright?"

He doesn't give you time to reply. Instead, he leans down and kisses your cheek. His mouth feels soft against your skin, and he lets the touch linger a moment too long. He then walks away to wave to the crowds and say his goodbyes, but doesn't forget to look at you last. He winks again, and then with an upward wave of his arms, he's off into the air. The bright colors of his cape are instantly lost to the sunny sky.

You feel an echoing in your ears. Is it from Homelander's shifting the wind or from the anxiety crawling up your throat? You're not sure. You're not sure of much of anything, only vaguely aware of Addie and Penny's hands as they guide you towards their car. The cameras are still on you.

~-~ 

Your friends don't ask you how you're feeling in the car. Addie drives back to the apartment in silence; you try to focus on the steady beats of her indie pop playlist, but you quickly become distracted by the beats of your phone in your pocket instead. You slowly pull it out of your pocket. It’s flooded with messages; some are from friends, but many are from people you barely know. All of them share the dozens of social media outlets that are posting pictures of you with the Homelander. In a matter of minutes, there are several photos of the hug, his chatting with you, his hand lingering on your waist - but by far the most popular image is him kissing your cheek.

"dude is this you??"

"are you dating the homelander?!"

"this gurl looks just like you lmao"

"ur fucking homelander??? how does that even work???"

You're surprised you make it into the apartment without vomiting.

When news outlets start calling, Addie takes your phone away and replaces it with a cup of tea. That works for about an hour. She eventually inches back, grimacing as she holds the phone to you. "It's your mom."

~-~ 

Hours later, you convince Addie and Penny that you’re okay to be alone. You tell them that you're alright and need to get some sleep. After all, you have work tomorrow. You know they don't believe you; there will eventually be a new, more vigorous crusade for you to quit. For now, their shock helps you to convince them you're fine.

You go to your room. You lock the door. You immediately storm over to your desk and flip through your paperwork from Vought. A nasty paper cut sears your left thumb, but you barely glance at it. Instead, you find what you were looking for.

The Homelander's direct phone line is for emergencies only. Well, this was a fucking emergency.

You dial it into your phone, and it only rings once before the Homelander's smooth voice greets you. "Ah, the star of the hour-"

“What the fuck are you trying to do?" Your voice is an irate hiss, low enough so your friends don't hear you.

His laugh sounds surprised, but endeared. "Language, missy! I didn't know you were capable-"

"Enough of this fucking bullshit, alright?" You're pacing the room now, unwilling to keep still. "How long have you been following me?"

A long pause, and a quiet scoff. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You knew Addie's name." You growl. "You know my favorite tea."

"And that means I'm stalking you?" He scoffs again. "I was paying attention."

"I never mentioned Addie's name."

"...paying a lot of attention."

"What do you want?" The anger has ebbed from you and the shaky paranoia creeps back in. Are you being crazy? Is he truly capable of all of this? "Did I do something wrong?"

"Oh, honey..." He coos, and his voice suddenly sounds much closer to your ear. "Of course not. You're a wonderful teacher. But I had to reaffirm some boundaries."

Your fingers hurt from how tightly they're holding your phone. "Are cafes off the list now, too?"

He chuckles, but the sound isn't friendly. You suddenly fear that your rage has pushed what little luck you had left. "I'll let that slide. I know those calls with your mother can be draining."

You snap around to look at your window, but you see nothing. It’s only the familiar, dark expanse of the Brooklyn skyline.

"Cafes are fine, but some other indulgences...not so much." He murmurs.

With all of today's chaos, it takes you a moment to think what he could mean. Then, when it registers, every muscle in your body tightens. "...indulgences?"

"Don't act stupid. It doesn't look good on you." His voice is calm but pointed, threading between annoyed and hurt. "I'd be angrier if I hadn't noticed the similarities."

Friday night comes back to you in flashes. An apartment a few subway stops away. Blonde hair and blue eyes. A quick cab ride back to the safety of home, the consequences of taking out your frustrations on a dating app.

"Sweetheart, if you needed a fuck that badly, you could've just called," He purrs. "I'll see you on Monday."

The call ends. You stare out the window, your hand quivering where it holds onto the phone.

[luluthespectator]

Rough beginning

I finally finished the continuation of A New Era. It took time but I believe in “quality over quantity”. I’m tagging someone who wanted to see this @jay--o. Hopefully you’ll enjoy it.

After the celebration, when the aliens went back in their respective sectors, The Pillars stepped in the ship. The corridors were large enough to fit all three of them in the same line.

However, Scozar quickly slithered in front of the group, taking its lead while exploring. It didn’t bother the two others. Maena looked around the place, her eyes expertly scanning the ship, giving her all the information she needed.

The corridors were pristine, it had a white immaculate look. The look a ship has right after its construction. She would probably be one of the first pilots to fly it outside of the atmosphere.

The Primavix walked slowly behind them. They kept their hands together but didn’t seem to pay any attention to their surroundings. Perhaps, they were, but with only a sphere for a head, the others couldn’t tell their expression.

The Pillars were all quiet when they entered the pilot’s room. However, The Human started to smile and her expression brightened. She ran over to the pilot’s chair, ignoring the aggressive look Scozar gave her when she passed by him.

She let herself collapse on the chair, laughing to herself. She opened some holographic screens before feeling the ominous presence of a shadow above her. She didn’t need to look up from the holograms to know it was Scozar. She could feel vibrations in her whole body however the translation device on her ear told her exactly what was “said”:

-Who allowed you to do that?

Her brows furrowed. She opened her mouth but no sound came. She thought for a few seconds, looking through a few settings, before answering perplexed:

-Well, I’m going to be the pilot, so I kind of need to understand how the ship operates, to change some settings, just get used to it.

-Don’t you understand where you stand?

This question confused her even more. What did he mean by that? Did he want to know if she knew she was standing on a chair? Or did he want to ask where she stood in a hierarchy point of view?

-Where I stand?

Scozar half-closed his eyes, harbouring some kind of smug expression. He put his sun-themed spear in his other hand, closer to Maena. She could make out the details on it. 

Strange lines were carved in the orange metal holding a black blade. Some of those lines morphed into additional spikes near the already sharp blade. He seemed somewhat proud to brandish it. It reflected in his words.

-I was chosen to be your leader.

-I’ve never heard that. 

Upon hearing it, he glared at Maena. His eyes were almost closed but she could still feel his gaze. What was he feeling? He was either angry or looking down on her. Who was she kidding? Of course he was looking down on her. She continued, less confident than she wanted:

-I thought we were supposed to make decisions together.

-Don’t you know why they made me come here?

She stopped fiddling with the settings for a moment and thought about what she had learned about his species, tapping her nails on the desk.

-Well, from as far as I understand, they put you here to keep some kind of truce going.

-Indeed. Do you see the implication now?

She didn’t like where this was going. 

-The implication? By implication, you mean that if I bruise your ego, you’re going to bring your people to a war?

-Well, if it is easier for you to understand Human, it is indeed what could happen.

She stood up from her chair. Even then, she wasn’t taller than his shoulder. She turned her head towards The Primavix, perhaps they knew how to handle a situation like this.

She didn’t find anything comforting in the black sphere of their head. She saw only a distorted reflection of the room, her and Scozar being strange shapes in the background. She looked back at The Kerox, she needed to find a way to get out of this argument.

He was bluffing was he? Keroxes are known for strategy, it’s not very strategic to go to war for that. They would go down in history as a petty species. She put on her poker face and asked with too much disdain for something meant to be diplomatic.

-Isn’t that selfish?

-Do you want it to become true?

She crossed her arms and stared right in Scozar’s eyes. His pupils were that of a cat during the day. She gauged him. Was he bluffing? It was difficult to tell, the rest of his scaly body didn’t move. She sighed.

-No.

-Well.

For a moment, she was taken aback. She looked back at The Primavix. They just stood there, quiet, unmoving, a statue of a saint of some kind. They would give her no help from as far as she could tell. 

She looks up to the Kerox again. A feeling in her gut warned her that this was only the beginning of his intimidation attempts. She wanted to put a stop to it, but she didn’t know if he was kidding or not. This conversation left a bad taste in her mouth. It was safer to give him a win for the moment.

-So do I continue…or?

-No. We have the rest of the ship to look at.

-Right…

———

They walked across the corridors in a tense silence. They ended up in a large room. One side was filled with places to sit down, pillows, carpets, a few tables with chairs and large flat rocks. On the other side, metallic instruments were installed on a counter.

Scozar’s deep growls filled the room. He seemed rather suspicious of what was on the counter, passing his spear in his clawed hand closer to it.

-What are those instruments?

Maena answered without thinking:

-Cooking.

Scozar looked at her, eyes half-shut. This time, his indigo feathers on his spine rose up slightly. She wondered if she made a mistake. Just to be sure, she tried to make her expression as neutral as possible. The Kerox asked:

-What is that?

She didn’t understand what kind of problem she dumbly ran into. She turned her head to an unmoving Primavix. Why was she looking for support in them? She decided to repeat:

-Cooking. They’re used for cooking food. We put food in those and then we eat.

-You need all of that just to eat? Pathetic.

It wasn’t the first time she heard that question from an alien. She usually didn’t really mind. But Scozar’s condescending remark got under her skin. She let out under her breath:

-Bet you eat like an animal.

-What did you say?

-Nothing.

-That’s what I thought.

Her anger made her make yet another mistake. Deviating the conversation was the best strategy she could think of. She turned towards The Primavix and asked:

-Either way, what do you think? Does it look cosy to you?

-We have yet to settle on an answer, Human.

-Alri-

Scozar interrupted Maena with a more assertive roar:

-I claim the headlands.

Maena looked around looking for places above them. What was even a headland? She had trouble picturing a headland in her head. She imagined something more natural. Her gaze went to the only natural things in the room.

-You mean…the rocks?

-If it is easier for you to understand, yes.

-Sure.

Scozar’s back bent over, his straight posture was gone, like something in his spine had snapped. He was now arched, almost on four legs but not quite yet. He seemed to put all his weight on his sun-themed spear and two bottom legs. This time, a more satisfied and quiet grumble passed through the air.

-Humans do learn fast.

She was about to tell him that it wasn’t out of respect but because she wasn’t interested in sitting on rocks. For the wellbeing of the mission, she decided to keep her mouth shut.

Instead, she used this window of opportunity to ask:

-If it’s okay with everyone, we should check the reactor core. Just to see if it doesn’t have any defects.

At that demand, Scozar got back to his straight posture like nothing happened. His gaze pierced through Maena.

-Are you giving orders?

-There’s a reason I said “If it’s okay with everyone”.

-We will check it last.

She put her hands on her hip and looked Scozar right in the eyes. She sighed, between anger and defeat: 

-Thanks. I really appreciate it.

-You learn fast, but you should change your tone.

She was at two fingers to blurt out a sarcastic “Yes, your majesty.”. But again, she didn’t know how The Kerox would take it. She didn’t want to be stuck on having to say that for the rest of the mission.

She was also desperate to hear The Primavix talk more. She needed to have an idea of how much support she could get from them.

———

Scozar was adamant on exploring the darker corridors, Maena was definitely not and The Primavix just followed. She pestered at the idea of having places without any type of lights. 

Scozar’s eyes and teeth glowed, this made her even more paranoid. It was not what she wanted to see. At some point, she couldn’t see a thing and decided to retreat to the border between light and utter darkness. Scozar of course had to say something about it.

-I guess humans’ inability to see in the dark is getting in your way. What if I make you come with me either way?

-Then I’ll bump into things.

-I’d love to see it. Especially when you won’t be able to do the same.

That’s when The Primavix stepped between them, they took their time but now they moved. It was enough to get the two to pay attention to them.

-We believe it is unnecessary to bring The Human. Our goal and your goal is exploration. If The Human cannot explore, then it is useless.

Somehow, this made The Kerox think. He pondered, his eyes fixed on Maena. She hated the vision of just two floating eyes and teeth, pointed menacingly towards her. But she kept her expression neutral despite the goosebumps.

She tried to focus on how glad she was to have The Primavix by her side at that moment. She could probably count on them when it truly mattered. The Kerox finally hissed:

-Fine. She can stay there.

She didn’t want to be standing there doing nothing. Could she push her luck though? She could certainly try.

-Since we’re going on separate ways, I could check on the reactor co-

-No. When we’ll come back, you will be at the same spot. Unless, you truly want to come with us?

-Alright. I’ll stay right here. Dang!

She regretted not having taken a flashlight with her. She would have “accidentally” put it in The Kerox’s face. For a lack of better things to do, she sat down, covered herself with her coat like a blanket, and wrote down a few things on her holographic notes.

———

After an agonisingly long time in the shadows, Scozar and The Primavix came back from the depths of darkness. She heard them before she saw Scozar’s terrifyingly ugly glowing features. There was, of course, the stomping of feet but it was accompanied by a faint ticking sound.

When she saw Scozar’s face rising up at the end of the corridor, she decided it was wiser to keep a flashlight at all times in the future. She got up and focused instead on the strange sound. That’s when Scozar decided to growl:

-You are a very obedient human.

-I got bored out of my mind.

-This doesn’t mean we’ll see the reactor core faster.

-That’s good to know I suppose.

Scozar passed by her, shooting her a smug stare. She crossed her arms and walked behind him. She listened to her surroundings. It seemed like the sound was either coming from the dark corridors or it was drowned by her feet on the metal.

They discovered almost everything in the ship. Scozar was particularly careful to not accidentally step in the reactor room. It was as if he could tell where it was. He also took his sweet sweet time exploring every single corner and spot.

Eventually, Scozar had to step into the last room. When they got in, Maena could already hear the buzzing sound emanating from the reactor core. She got closer, kneeling beside a large immaculate metallic box.

She listened closer to the variations of sounds. It was how she learnt to determine whether a reactor core was powerful or defective. This one made waves of sounds, like some kind of soothing crackling water. It was regular and intense.

She was amazed by the quality of the sound. It meant it had a lot of power and could potentially make them travel space faster and for a longer period of time too. It could perhaps bend space better, perhaps it could even be less painful if something bad happens during one of those “space folding”.

She passed her hand on the smooth metal. It was definitely not human-made. The exterior wasn’t what mattered though. She had no difficulties taking it away, revealing a complex network of blue phosphorescent cables keeping gems together.

She could see three layers of those intricate circuits. She hoped to never have to repair the last layer, she already predicted it would be a pain in whatever didn’t see the light often.

The interior rang with a crystalline sound, reminiscent of a heartbeat. She put the box back on top of it. She tapped it with her index, looking back at the other Pillars. 

-This is one of the best reactors I have ever seen in my life.

At that, The Primavix said nothing and didn’t move. However, Scozar raised his head high, like he was proud. However, he quickly took that opportunity to look at her from up high and growl:

-You better keep it that way.

-Well, it should stay that way on its own. If it breaks down without any provocation then it’s not a good reactor. But I don’t think it’s going to happen any time soon.

She rose on her feet and readjusted her coat on her shoulders. She walked towards the exit. This time, from the corner of her eyes, she noticed Scozar’s cold glare as she passed by him. She acted like she didn’t acknowledge him.

-Either way, I’m done here.

She could tell he was unsatisfied. People like him had a tendency to drive her crazy. The nerves to think he is entitled to everything made her blood boil. She knew it wasn’t diplomatic at all. She knew she was asking for it at that point but before exiting the room, she turned towards The Kerox and taunted:

-See? Did it take that much of your time?

-This is not how you are getting me to cooperate next time. Your strategy is flawed.

He was so right. But she wouldn’t admit it out loud. She didn’t really think about it, she just wanted to match his level of pettiness.

-Well, answer me. Did it take that much time for me to check the reactor core?

-You shouldn’t give me orders. Must I remind you of what I could do?

This would have stopped her but she had gone too far now. She decided it was bluff and kept going.

-Answering a question with another question? Is that all you’re going to do? Or can’t you admit that it didn’t take much of your time?

His indigo feathers on his spine rose to their full length. His stare pierced her, this time, it felt like daggers.

-You were about to get out of my sight, which would have been appreciated. 

He slithered towards her, slowly but surely, menacingly. His powerful muscles rolled under his scales. The bottom of his spears accompanied his motion, the tapping echoed like a clock of doom.

-But you decided to stay and mock me.

Why did she do that? What in the world was she thinking? She was paralysed with a hand on the door frame. She stared at him, not out of bravery, but out of utter terror. She just couldn’t look away as he approached dangerously close.

She was reminded that there were other apex predators amongst the other species of the galaxy, there were other death-worlders. She remembered that the death-worlder standing in front of her fought in a war and lived. In fact, at that moment, she was reminded of her own mortality.

If she wasn’t going to die from the claws of The Kerox she was certainly going to die from a heart attack. Her heart was pounding for its life. Each of its beats effectively beat the inside of her chest. Sweat was dripping from everywhere. 

That’s when The Primavix stepped in front of her, like a saviour. They made a physical barrier between her and Scozar. They actually stood up to The Kerox, they faced him. Their calming voice filled her translator:

-We believe there is no need for aggression. The night was long and our thoughts and yours are divergent and clouded by exhaustion. We and you mustn’t forget that we and you are the new era’s beacon. The failure of this mission would be a shame for everyone.

Maena finally figured out what The Primavix was: they were the voice of reason. She watched in awe as The Kerox stopped in his tracks and pondered like he did before. She let out a sigh of relief. She was suddenly light-headed. She declared on a more casual tone than she thought she could muster:

-Yeah, I agree. I’m going outside for…fresh air.

She promptly left the room and went outside as fast as she could. She was going to die from her own stupidity someday. This whole “New Era” thing was dumb. They were going to kill each other before anything meaningful would be made.

Back to masterlist

Back to A New Era

[respectfulrebel]

WHAT A FREAKING MASTERPIECE 😭😭😭😭😭

I love this story so much, the drama, the mystery, the tension, the TENSION! The fact that I’m on the edge of my seat every time I read a chapter and that every chapter ends on a cliffhanger and I have so many questions 😭😭😭😭 It’s just AAAAAAAAJDJDHAGAKDLDHSJDKS SO GOOD!

Finally, you told him about what spawned your move across the country. The fight for your life that had ended with you taking one instead. Vane's. A few stabs to his body in the heat of the moment had done the trick.

I KNEW IT! but why do I have the feeling we haven’t seen the last of him 👀

Shaking your head, you realized how close you still were to him and took half a step back. You didn't want to. You actually wanted to be as close as you possibly could. Preferably so close that he was insi-

🤭🤭🤭🤭

His hair had previously been styled back away from his face, but the forecasted rain had clearly loosened the strands that now hung at his cheekbones. His lips were slightly parted and just begging to be abused by your own, just as the heavily tattooed skin of his neck was.

Idk that was just such an incredibly vivid description

Both inked hands closed around your calves so he could tug your body closer to the edge of the pool table. Your legs would ve been dangling off had they not been bent to close in at his hips once he released you, only to lean over your upper body. One hand planted itself by your head to support his weight as the other trailed slowly along the side of your thigh, over your hip, and all the way up to your face where he cradled your jaw.

🫠🫠🫠 Giiiiiirl I’m so weak for this fictional man

"When we fuck for the first time," he murmured low, "you're going to remember it."

Damm okay 😳😳😳

"I also don't want to take advantage of you."

I know this is the bare minimum a man can do but still 🥺🥺🥺🥺

You studied the basic items in eyesight: couch, television, lamp, a plant. You paused while bringing the Nutrigrain bar up for another bite. A plant?

HE GOT A PLANT FOR HER TO LOOK AT???? 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 I love him

Also the sushi date was so cute and the “goodbye” was just 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

I just really love this story 🥺🥺🥺🥺

「 ON DISPLAY 」 noah sebastian ⨯ f!reader

▷ chapter four

noah is your neighbor and your new favorite view thanks to his lack of curtains. you're pretty sure he prefers it this way. but the man you've created in your imagination is nothing like reality and you soon find yourself falling prey to a past lifestyle you had been desperately on the run from. trigger warnings : language, eventual smut, violence, mention/flashbacks of abuse, alcohol and drug use, sexual harassment/assault (nongraphic). word count : 11k

masterlist

You told him everything. 

Well, mostly everything. You had skipped over some of the more gritty details after noticing how Noah’s hands would clench into fists anytime there was a vague mention of someone laying a malicious finger on you. He was protective of you, for reasons unknown, but you figured it wasn't best to question him in the middle of your sob story. It wasn't his sympathy you wanted, anyway, nor his pity. 

You told him of how your father basically sold you to Vane in a bid to grow his empire. He saw how quickly Vane was coming into his own power, all by striking fear into others, and your father thought it best to align with him for his own selfish reasons. Your father was getting older and didn't want his legacy to falter. What better way to do that than to promise Vane his own flesh and blood? He didn't give a shit about you, his only daughter. He didn't care about how cruel Vane could be or how you had tried to escape on more than one occasion. Honestly, you had never made a true motivated attempt until the last time when the opportunity simply happened to present itself. Every other time you had been too scared, too ill prepared, too slow. 

You told him about Vane’s business ventures; the drugs, the weapons, the aspiration to move to 'bigger and better things’, so Vane had said. You had no idea what that meant. What went beyond your typical drug and weapon smuggling? A few ideas popped into your head when you thought about it long enough but you didn't want to believe Vane was that monstrous of a person. But, maybe he was. Years of your life were wasted on him and you still felt as if you barely knew the menace. 

Finally, you told him about what spawned your move across the country. The fight for your life that had ended with you taking one instead. Vane’s. A few stabs to his body in the heat of the moment had done the trick. This was also where you left out the more gory details again. Not just for the benefit of Noah’s temper, but for your own past trauma. It wasn't something you wanted to relive. 

“No one tried to help you?” Noah pondered aloud after you fell silent. You looked at him, offered a sympathetic smile, and shook your head. 

“No one could. I was cut off from everyone who wasn't my family or in Vane’s inner circle.”

“But your friend, the one you said you moved here for?”

You took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. To say that you were exhausted would've been an understatement and the constant curious questions weren't helping. The morning light was already beginning to shine through your window, casting a faint golden glow across your living room where you sat with Noah. He had finally abandoned the Nocturnal mask again, once more returning to the mildly nerdy but kind neighbor you had watched from your window. 

“I've known Mel since I was a kid but we drifted apart once Vane stepped into my life. We spoke whenever possible, if possible, but then when I found out she had moved here…it's the only place I thought to go.” Another glance was taken his way, his brows furrowed as he tried to put all of the crumbled pieces of your life together. Good luck. 

“She didn't know anything about what was happening,” you concluded before Noah could add Melinda to his list of people to make disappear. “And she still doesn't…which I’d like to keep that way.” 

Noah nodded in understanding. You knew he would be able to relate with your need to keep the people closest to you safe, and since all you had was Mel, she needed to be kept far, far away from all of this. Even if that meant you having to uproot your life again for her sake. 

“I'm going to keep you safe, okay?” Noah reached over the couch cushion that separated you and lightly cradled your jaw. You couldn't help but to nuzzle into his palm as the warmth of his skin instantly calmed you, allowing you to take in a much needed deep breath. “I'll talk to Jolly. We’ll get it figured out and–”

“No! Noah, no.” You quickly interjected, your eyes widening. You snatched his hand from your cheek but kept it within your grasp, the hold you had on him firm. “No one else can know. Please. Don't tell him.” 

“You can trust Jolly the same as you trust me. I've known him nearly my entire life. He wouldn't–”

Again you cut him off with a strong shake of your head. “Do not tell him, Noah. Promise me that you won't. I can't run the risk of someone else possibly getting hurt because of me.” 

Noah was looking at you with great confusion. You could see it swimming within his eyes, the words to make digging questions not forming just right to actually be spoken. He opened his mouth to speak but you beat him to it. 

“If you believe me like you say you do, then this has to stay between us.”

“And what am I supposed to tell him about who you are?” 

You heavily sighed, your head falling back against the couch cushions in near defeat. Shrugging as your hands scrubbed over your face, you took a few seconds for yourself before looking at him again. He was beautiful, even when his eyes were heavy from lack of sleep and he was still looking at you as if you were a puzzle to figure out. You hated it. No one was supposed to want to know all the inner workings of you. A man like Noah was going to be the death of you. 

“I don't know,” you finally replied. “Just…tell him that I showed you family pictures or something to prove who I am. Tell him those guys were just…debt collectors. I don't know.” 

Noah rolled his eyes and lightly laughed under his breath. “Debt collectors,” he repeated in disbelief. “Those guys could only be debt collectors if they were coming to take one of your organs as payment.” 

You couldn't help but to laugh along with him because you knew how horrible of a lie that was. Although, maybe it was just bad enough to be believable. 

X X X 

It wasn't long ago that you dreaded being at Nocturnal and wished to remain employed at Red’s only. After the most recent turn of events, though, you were constantly thinking about what was happening at the club. Noah was always on your mind. What was he doing? Had he told Jolly? Was he truly an ally? Well, you had already revealed all of your closest secrets, so it wasn't as if the latter mattered too much now. You were just hoping he was someone you could actually trust and rely on. Your gut told you that he was exactly that, but you could never be too sure. 

Taking a sharp right, you hustled into Red’s home with a fury to get out of the cold. You were early, and only realized this after checking your phone too late that morning. Red had messaged you to say he had a meeting and for you to arrive later than your original agreed upon daily time. But since you were already on the subway at that point, you decided to head in and just start helping out wherever you could. What was an extra hour really? 

It was quiet around the house, though you could hear the faint murmur of voices coming from Red’s office. You passed by it without pause since you didn't want to be caught as a snoop, and instead began gathering the laundry from the designated room not much further down the hall. As you were folding a fresh load in the sitting room, an older man with a suit on waltzed in, phone and briefcase in hand. He regarded you with a passive smile, which you returned with one of your own. 

“Are you another one of Red’s grandchildren? I've yet to meet them all.” He inquired after a few beats, his hands now clasped down at his waist and his attention fully on you. 

You softly laughed and shook your head. “I work for him,” you explained. “But I'm sure I see him a lot more than any of his grandchildren do.” 

The man chuckled before taking a quick glance over his shoulder. “I wouldn't say that too loud or else one of them may hear you.”

“Oh…” you glanced over your shoulder. “Is one visiting now?”

You had never encountered any of Red’s family. He's spoken of them, not always too fondly, and you've seen pictures, yet you've never crossed paths. Which wasn't too unusual to you considering you worked the same time during the day as most people also did. 

The man released a heavy breath as he nodded. “Nicholas, his youngest. Watch out for that one. He has a liking for…trouble.” 

His final words were quickly murmured because a door heavily closing could be heard throughout the entire lower level of the city mansion. The suddenness of it caused you to jump slightly, your eyes darting to the entryway of the sitting room. A short moment later, a figure appeared that you only recognized from a family photo hanging on Red’s wall. The guy was older now, but you remembered the unique shade of his eyes. 

“I'm guessing your Red’s newest wife?” He looked you up and down with disinterest, then turned to the other man. “That would make…what? Wife number four?” 

Did people really not know that Red had other employees? 

The man said nothing beyond a faint grunt of acknowledgment, his focus only on his phone that he was quickly typing away on. He was probably trying to ignore Nicholas, and you couldn't say you blamed him. There was something about Red’s youngest grandchild that rubbed you the wrong way right off the bat. 

“I'm definitely not his wife,” you quickly defended. 

“No…no, you're not.” A slight smirk appeared over his lips. You noticed the way his eyes traveled you from head to toe again, but this time with a bit more intrigue. His gaze lingered much too long on your chest for your liking, though you were thankful for the crew neck sweater you had tossed on. At least it wasn't anything low cut. 

You forced a tight smile, returning to the laundry. You could still feel Nicholas' sights on you. There was also what sounded like a click every now and then, and a brief glance his way showed you the zippo lighter in his grasp. Jesus Christ, what was with this guy? 

Appearing unfazed, you loaded the folded laundry back into the basket to be carried away to the upstairs closets. Just as you were going to lift said basket, though, the sound of Red’s cane hitting the hardwood floor garnered your attention. He seemed surprised to see you, maybe even a little perturbed by your presence. He still plastered on a smile of his own, but that didn’t stop the tension in the room from remaining. 

“Nicholas. What are you still doing here?” Red held a stern look over his grandson, his tone unable to hide his aggravation. “I thought you had another meeting to rush to.”

Still flipping the lighter, he shrugged. “I was just introducing myself to your new…”

“Assistant,” you finished the sentence for him. If you could even call yourself that. Sometimes “housekeeper” felt too proper for what you did. 

“Assistant,” Nicholas repeated with an amused grin. 

Red sighed as he walked towards Nicholas with the intent on ushering him out. He murmured a few choice words to him, most of which you couldn't make out, but you could assume. 

“I'll be sure to stop by more often to see how things are going with you,” Nicholas said. 

The statement was directed at you, but you didn't look his way again. He set you on edge and you couldn't really place your finger on why. You had been around enough psychopaths to know one when you saw one, so your plan was to steer clear.  

Excusing yourself from the suit man with nothing more than a mumble, you carried the laundry basket up to the second floor to be put away. Even a floor up you could still hear the bickering of Red and his grandson on the front step. As their voices grew in volume, so did your curiosity. 

Slowly, you inched closer and closer to the window that was right above where they stood. Nicholas' jaw was clenched, his bright eyes glaring daggers at the older man you had become fond of. Red was going in on him, but you could unfortunately only make out a few words here and there. 

“– even think about it.”

“– brain of – ruin everything –”

“I mean it, Nicholas. – out of line.” 

You watched Red’s hands move haphazardly with his words, though his back was to you so you couldn't see his expression. You could only imagine his face was the same shade of his namesake. 

Quickly, you stepped out from in front of the window when Red turned to head back inside, but not before Nicholas’ eyes shifted to you. You pressed yourself against the wall, heart pounding within your chest for having just been caught. Again. Why the fuck were you so bad at this sneaking around thing? 

Deep breath in, slowly out. Deep breath in, slowly out. You repeated this a few times until you assumed enough time had passed for Nicholas to clear out. Oh, but of course, you were wrong. 

Your head slowly dropped into view of the window again, curious eyes immediately going to where Nicholas and Red had been on the doorstep. Empty. With your gaze quickly dancing around, you could feel the anxiety releasing from your body, only until you spotted him a little further up the sidewalk. 

Nicholas stood at the waist-high gate, his sights set directly on you. You nervously swallowed because there was no way to explain this away. No way to say that you hadn't been eavesdropping. The expression Nicholas wore wasn't one of anger, though. He appeared more so amused as he watched you through the second story window. The joy of catching you lighting up his eyes.  

X X X 

A month quickly passed and thankfully without incident. No one stopping by the club to see if you were there. No random phone calls or messages like you were partly expecting. All seemed…normal. At least, for the most part. 

Things with Noah were a little odd at times, though. You didn't see him outside of Nocturnal very much, and you hated to admit that you kind of…missed him. Would you be mad to wake up again and find him in your living room? Nope. It was better than gazing out your window for a glimpse of him like some love sick stalker. 

He even kept his distance when you were working together. You weren't really sure how that equaled keeping you safe, but you assumed there was some sort of method to his madness. 

YOU: You should get some plants or a pet or something. 

YOU: Staring at your empty living room is kinda boring sometimes. Liven it up a bit. 

HOT NEIGHBOR: I'll be sure to let my interior designer know that my Peeping Tom would like some visual stimulation. 

You chuckled to yourself, following it up with an eye roll at Noah’s sarcastic response. It wasn't too often that he would stop being serious long enough to joke back with you, but it always made you smile when he did. 

YOU: I'm being dragged out with Melinda tonight for drinks. Do you want to come? 

You didn't even want to admit how long it took you to pluck up the courage to ask that. Nothing weird about the offer, right? Just two friends hanging out with other people. Casual. Normal. 

HOT NEIGHBOR: I'm working later. Sorry. Maybe next time. 

Like he didn't basically make his own schedule. Jackass. You heaved an irritated sigh while giving the response a thumbs down so he at least knew you read it. No other messages were exchanged. 

“Let's just go to Limelight!” You whined as you tugged on Mel’s hand in an attempt to drag her across the street later that night. 

Your best friend was hell bent on going to Nocturnal despite your pleas to go anywhere else. Not only did you not want to spend time at work while off the clock, but you also didn't want to see Noah. It was only a few days ago that you finally caved and told Melinda about how he worked there with you and was basically your boss. Of course, you left out all the extra details, like how he broke into your house and also had an affinity for cornering and touching you. You figured those weren't really too important. She was ecstatic, just as expected. 

“Ugh! Limelight is so lame and you know it! All they do is play shitty Taylor Swift remixes and –”

“Okay, yeah! Maybe! But they have those fun little drinks they drop a glow stick into!” 

Melinda deadpanned her expression and stared at you as if to say 'fucking really?’. You dramatically groaned at her silent response, the pregame drinks in your system already working their magic to help you loosen up. 

“Fine! Let's go to stupid Nocturnal.” 

Skipping the line and getting into the club was a breeze since the bouncer obviously knew you. The angry complaints from the patrons waiting were of no concern to either of you and you thanked him with a quick kiss to the cheek. Marco appeared big and bad due to his rather large stature, but he and his boyfriend liked to foster Greyhounds and go antique hunting on the weekends. He was the nicest guy you had ever met. But would he punch someone in the gut if necessary? Yes. You had seen it more than once. 

You giggled along with Melinda as you both sauntered down the long red-lit hallway that led to the main area of the club. Even though you didn't really want to be at your place of work on your day off, you weren't going to let it ruin your mood. Nope, nothing and no one was going to fuck it up. Not even…

“Noah,” you gasped as soon as you stepped into the thunderous sounds of Nocturnal, only to come face to face with your neighbor slash boss slash protector? Fuck, you had no idea what the hell he was to you. 

“Jesus Christ, you're even taller in person.” Melinda looked him up and down unapologetically, but his eyes were set on you. 

Considering you had just fully crashed into him, though, that wasn't surprising. 

“Please tell me this is not where you would've taken me to get drinks.” His tone read as serious but you could see the faint little smirk on the corners of his lips. 

Shaking your head, you realized how close you still were to him and took half a step back. You didn't want to. You actually wanted to be as close as you possibly could. Preferably so close that he was insi–

“No,” you finally voiced before you could finish that thought. “We were going to go to Aqua but the line was ridiculous, and Mel refused to go to Limelight, so here we are.” 

Noah slowly nodded. “On your day off.”

“On my day off,” you repeated with a sideways glance to Mel. 

The frustration in Noah’s eyes was evident, at least to you. He released a long breath, looked left and right as if in search of someone, then settled his gaze back on yours. Oh, how you could so easily get lost in the warm brown of his eyes. Even with the red lights of Nocturnal drowning out most colors, that was one they couldn't touch. 

Leaning down a bit closer, probably only just a fraction of an inch but enough to cause your breath to hitch, Noah lowered his tone for only you to hear. 

“Be careful,” he warned, worry flaring in his eyes. “I'll be watching.” 

Most would regard his words as a threat, but you knew their true meaning. He would be looking out for you. Keeping you safe, just as he promised. Although you wanted to argue that you could take care of yourself (your stubbornness knew no bounds), you both knew otherwise. Noah had so easily broken into your apartment. No alarms had been sounded, no uneasy tingling to signal to you that you hadn't been alone. Nothing. So, maybe you did need another set of eyes watching your back. 

“That was…weird,” Melinda said loud enough for you to hear over the heavy bass of the music once Noah had disappeared into the sea of people. “Is he always so tense?” 

You raised your brows as you looked at her, laughing. “You have no idea.”

“Anywho!” She quickly changed the subject while guiding your shoulder forward. “We need drinks!” 

As much as you loved to drink, you didn’t do it nearly to the extent as you used to. It was a helpful tool when you were with Vane to help drown out the pain of actually being with him, one that lessened in frequency once you were free. Not just because you didn't need the mental escape anymore, but because keeping your senses dulled could be dangerous. The last thing you needed was someone coming for you when you were a wine bottle deep. 

You winced as the alcohol burned down your throat before making your face twist in disgust. It was your third shot and you still weren't numb to its effects yet. God, you really hated tequila. 

“This is horrible,” you shivered while pushing the miniature glass away from yourself. 

“Don't be such a sourpuss,” Melinda struggled to speak through her own grimace. “It's great!” 

“Not the word I'd use to describe it but sure.” 

“What's got your panties in a twist tonight? I can basically see the storm cloud following you around.” 

You cut a look at Mel and shook your head to silently relay that you didn’t want to talk about it. Really, you'd love to talk about it, though. You'd love nothing more than to be able to come clean about everything happening but you weren't going to put Melinda in the middle of it. Selfishly doing just that to Noah was bad enough. 

“I'm just tired,” you shrugged. “Haven't really been sleeping well.” 

Not entirely a lie. 

“Prepare to wake up even more tired tomorrow because we're partying tonight!” 

Melinda reached for your hand and was dragging you to the dance floor without another word. You inwardly groaned, already annoyed with all the sweaty bodies bumping into you and making you press closer to your best friend. It was odd for you to be such a buzzkill, even you knew this, but everything happening was truly just weighing on you. 

You spent most days terrified. Leaving your apartment was basically a thing of the past unless you were going to and from work. With that came you bumming rides off Noah if your schedules aligned or letting him know when you left and when you arrived at your destination. That was his idea, not yours. You would normally be extremely annoyed with his overprotective nature but you understood. And that's how it would remain until he inevitably crossed a line. 

Shaking out your hands, you tried your best to loosen up. The alcohol helped, your head already swimming and your body swaying to the music. It was just hard to forget about it all completely. You did a damn good job at masking it, though. 

“I can't believe you get to work here!” Melinda yelled over the music, her arms above her head. “It’s so much fun!”

You laughed as you did a turn along with her, your hands settling loosely on her waist. “It's not like I get to hang out on the dance floor all night!” 

Melinda shrugged, a hand waving off another one of your downer comments. 

The lights on the dance floor shifted from red to blue to purple in random patterns, making it hard to focus on the familiar face of your best friend. You assumed there was a point to this so people could really lose their inhibitions but Melinda wasn't who you wanted to lose them with. 

Your eyes cut up to the ceiling where you knew a camera was mounted. He was watching, just as he said he would be. Even with Noah being floors and rooms away, you could still feel his heavy gaze. You debated putting on a show for him like you did during the housewarming party at your apartment not too long ago, but ultimately decided against it. Too many people. The last thing you wanted was some random guy near you to think you were trying to lure him in. 

Eyes closed and fingers running through your hair, you tried to let the music take you. The bass hummed through you, vibrating from your head to your toes in a sensation that actually did make it easier to get lost in. When you turned around and opened your eyes again, you didn't see Melinda right away. You did a quick glance before finding her in the arms of some college-age looking guy with bleached hair and wandering hands that made you grimace. Gross. 

Well, she seemed thoroughly distracted, so you decided this was the best moment to take your leave from the dance floor. You maneuvered your way back through the crowd of people and took solace at the bar, close to where the servers would be gathering their drinks. 

“Love us so much that you had to come hang on your night off?” Shauna grinned as she filled her tray, sending a wink your way. 

“Oh yeah,” you teased. “Just can't get enough.”

“Guy at the other end of the bar has been looking at you, by the way.” 

Following her line of sight, you tilted your head enough to see the newly discovered light eyes of Red’s grandson. Nicholas, was it? Your brows furrowed in slight confusion, an expression you only wore for a split second. 

“I think he's related to my other boss,” you explained with a shrug. “He's probably trying to figure out where he knows me from.” 

At least, that's what you were telling yourself. 

“Well, I think he figured it out because he's on his way down.” Shauna gave you a gentle bump with her hip as she sauntered away to serve her drinks, leaving you with no one to distract yourself with for when Nicholas ultimately closed the space. 

Which he did in a matter of seconds. 

“Imagine all the people to run into,” he began with a lighthearted chuckle. Funny how just a few weeks ago he was sizing you up, and now he was acting like you were a long time friend. 

“Yeah, imagine that.” 

“Do you come here often?” 

“Wow, is that really the line you're going to open with?” You laugh, both brows raising at him. 

Nicholas shrugged in a nonchalant manner, his own faint laughter still escaping. He was looking at you again as if he was trying to read who you were right away, possibly like he knew something you didn't. It made you uneasy, but what could truly happen when you were surrounded by hundreds of people? 

“I thought it was pretty original. Creative, even.” 

“Well, I already know that you don't come here often,” you pivoted. “So what could be the reason you're here tonight?” 

Arching a thick brow of his own, he squinted ever so slightly before motioning for the bartender - Paul - to come down your way. 

“I'll have a bourbon and she'll take…” Nicholas looked your way with an expectant stare. 

“She'll take a gin and tonic, and she’ll also buy her own drink.” 

Nicholas flinched playfully, his hand grasping at where his heart was. “Oof, that's gonna leave a mark,” he teased. 

“Keep avoiding my question and I'm going to assume you came here to see me.” 

You weren't flirting…were you? No, of course not. You were going to explain it away by saying it was just the drinks in your system making you extra bold. You had no interest in Nicholas. You didn't even know him. 

You didn't know Noah at first either and you still wanted to fuc– 

Nope. That was just another thought you were going to prevent yourself from fully manifesting. 

Nicholas nudged your glass towards you once the drinks were set down. “What if I did?” 

Taking in the way you only stared at him, slowly blinking with bemusement, Nicholas shook his head. “I just came to scope out the scenery,” he explained. “Seeing you here is merely a…happy coincidence.”

You wanted to call ‘bullshit’, but you kept it in. For now. At least he wasn't giving you the creeps like your last encounter. 

It was then that you realized Nicholas was looking past you, his lips again pulling up into a grin. You didn't need to glance back to see who he was staring at because you knew as soon as a hand was lightly pressed to your lower back. 

A warmth immediately spread through you and it took whatever self control you still had to not lean back into his touch. 

“Ruffilo,” Noah greeted with a blatant disinterest. “Last I checked, you were banned from Nocturnal.”

Your eyes widened but you remained silent, your focus instead falling onto the drink you were now taking a generous swallow from. 

Noah leaned down closer to your ear, his voice dropping as he relayed the explanation. “He almost set VIP on fire last time he was here.”

“Accidentally,” Nicholas quickly defended, his tone clipped. 

“That still has yet to be determined.” 

“I see you're just as much of an asshole as you've always been, King.” The name Noah used while in the club was spoken with a condescending wretch, just before Nicholas tilted his drink back to finish off the remnants. 

Noah gave a sideways smirk, his fingers still splayed across your lower back. They occasionally brushed your bare skin from where your shirt had ridden up, and you assumed this wasn't done on accident. “Possibly even more.” 

Nicholas glanced back and forth between the two of you, realization finally hitting him. “Oh, that's rich. You're so predictable sometimes,” he chuckled to himself. 

What the fuck was going on? It was clear that these two men had some amount of bad blood between them, but to what extent? You had no idea. You wanted to tell Noah that it was okay, that Nicholas was just harmlessly talking to you, though the clench of his jaw and the hard set of his brow told you to not. Despite how angry Noah was, he was doing his best to keep it in check. 

“Allow me to see you out?” Noah suggested, although you knew it was more of a demand. 

Nicholas didn't put up a fuss as Noah stepped around you and motioned towards the exit of the club. He didn't so much as even look back your way before he was swallowed by the crowd again, leaving you to stew in your own thoughts. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you murmured to yourself. Paul came stepping up in front of you from behind the bar a short moment later, both of his brows raised in an expression of curiosity. 

“I'm assuming you didn't know who that was?” 

Shaking your head, you quickly finished your own drink. You were beginning to come to terms with the fact that you didn't give a fuck anymore. Every time you turned around there was someone new to be weary of. 

“Can I just get a shot of whatever, please?” 

X X X

What was it about you allowing strong men to overtake your life? Your father, Vane, and now Noah to a certain degree. Why? 

You kept telling yourself that the first two were only out for themselves, whereas Noah was trying to help you. That made it okay to let him be so controlling, right? It wasn't like you were making any effort to stop him. 

This wasn't just history repeating itself. Not with Noah. He was funny and kind and had never truly hurt you even when given the prime opportunity to do so. He was keeping you safe. Maybe he was simply a man of his word and took promises seriously. Maybe he would see it through that you were kept out of harm's way. 

These were the things that you kept trying to tell yourself. Was it helping to convince you? Eh, sort of. 

“There you are,” Noah breathed, the sound of a door softly closing and locking to follow. 

You didn’t even remember how you got up here. Wherever ‘here’ was. Your eyes slowly fluttered open to make immediate contact with a light hanging above you, making you slightly wince. It was dim, just as every light in Nocturnal was, but it was still bright enough to force you to turn your head away. 

“You had me worried that trouble had found you again.” 

You knew you were still in the club. The pounding of the bass behind the closed door told you this. Your hand moved at your side as you lifted it to push your hair from your face, though it hit a hard object in the process. The same object, or so you assumed, then made a soft collision with your hip before disappearing again. 

Wait. You now vaguely remember finding the employees only lounge area and making yourself comfortable. It used to be part of a VIP section on the opposite side of the one now currently used, but at some point before your time at Nocturnal it had changed to somewhere employees occasionally came to relax. From what you could tell, it wasn't used very often. 

The hard surface you were laying on must be the pool table. The object your hand hit, one of the colorful billiard balls. 

“Trouble does always have a way of seeking me out,” you retorted after a long moment. Your eyes cut to where you could sense him standing because maybe he was currently the trouble that had found you this time. 

Noah paused at the end of the pool table, his fingers lightly caressing your ankle and working his way up along your calf. Chills formed in their wake, your body immediately coming to life for him. You had been on the verge of fully passing out only moments prior, but now that he was there, you felt like you could run a marathon. 

“Or maybe you attract trouble.” 

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you silently eyed him. His hair had previously been styled back away from his face, but the forecasted rain had clearly loosened the strands that now hung at his cheekbones. His lips were slightly parted and just begging to be abused by your own, just as the heavily tattooed skin of his neck was. You wanted to know how quickly he would lose his stoic control at your hands…and mouth. 

Both inked hands closed around your calves so he could tug your body closer to the edge of the pool table. Your legs would've been dangling off had they not been bent to close in at his hips once he released you, only to lean over your upper body. One hand planted itself by your head to support his weight as the other trailed slowly along the side of your thigh, over your hip, and all the way up to your face where he cradled your jaw. 

Your breathing stalled as your emotions went into overdrive. Just the feeling of his skin against yours could make you lose all control, which you knew was very bad, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You wanted him. Every piece, every inch. And you could tell by the way he was looking down at you that he wanted you too. 

“Why did you come up here?” His voice was soft and low as his eyes traveled every detail of your face. 

It took you a second to process his question, but you eventually found your words and swallowed in preparation. “I wanted to be somewhere quiet,” you nearly whispered. “And I know the cameras aren't routinely checked here.” 

“Were you trying to hide from me?” 

There's a flash of pain within his dark eyes and you want to soothe whatever unpleasant thought just ran through his mind. 

“No,” you exhaled slowly. “I knew you'd find me.” 

And just like that, the pain you noticed was extinguished and replaced by something much softer.  

Suddenly his lips were on yours in a collision of desperate need. There was nothing slow and tantalizing about the kiss. It was all tongue and teeth, heavy breaths taken when able to, but those were far and few in between. You arched up into him and your hips rubbed against his, the friction forcing a groan from deep within Noah’s chest. 

Oh, you wanted to hear that sound again. 

A strong hand grasped the back of your neck as your own fingers dragged along his chest, eager to push his shirt up. You only got as far as slipping your hands beneath the dark fabric, both of your tongues still working in tandem in an attempt to dominate the other. Fuck, he tasted so good, but felt even better. 

The hem of your skirt was bunched at the top of your thighs, allowing you easier motion to grind up against the man you should be terrified of. Fat chance of that when he could get this sort of reaction out of you. And you him, considering the hard bulge you felt pressed right between your thighs. 

Noah broke from your lips so he could hungrily kiss along your jaw and neck. His hand slid around to grip your throat in a firm hold; not enough to hurt, but just enough to drag a whimper from you. Every nerve within your body was on fire. They threatened to fully combust the longer Noah teased your delicate skin, leaving you a writhing mess beneath him. 

“Is this allowed?” You heard the words before you even realized you had spoken them. 

“What?” Noah’s voice was slightly muffled from where he was now kissing along the exposed portions of your chest. His free hand had somehow dipped down between your thighs without you noticing, giving him free rein to stroke the sensitive skin. 

“This…” you swallowed, silently begging for him to bring his fingers closer to where you knew you were wet and ready for him. “Fucking one of your employees?” 

You felt him smile before he lifted his head enough for you to actually see it too. His pupils were blown, lips swollen from the forceful kissing you had both just indulged in. 

It was then that you felt his fingertips graze the thin fabric of your panties, his eyes further narrowing in on your own. He had obviously noticed how wet you were. You were sure he felt it but you had zero shame. Just looking at him most days could get your blood boiling. 

Noah smirked, his fingers still drawing slow and taunting designs over the damp fabric. “Who said anything about fucking?” 

What. The. Fuck. 

You squinted up at him in confusion. Your head was still swimming and you felt like you were in a haze, but you knew damn well you weren't imagining this. No way was this a dream. 

The hold he had on your throat tightened and his hips forcefully pushed forward into yours. Your mouth fell open, brows knitting together as you did your best to swallow all the noises you wanted to make. Noah then loosened his grip on your neck, his lips lowering back to yours for a kiss that was the exact opposite of what they had been. It was gentle and slow, as if he was savoring your taste this time instead of trying to devour you. 

“When we fuck for the first time,” he murmured low, “you're going to remember it.” 

Noah stood to his full height, his hands caressing the sides of your thighs one last time before he was tugging your skirt down to return you to a mostly modest state. 

“Why wouldn't I remember it?” 

He quirked a brow at you as he took a step back and began to straighten out his clothing, as well as adjust the bulge in his dark pants. “I watched you order a handful of drinks and take multiple shots,” he stated. “I'd rather avoid the whole ‘did we have sex last night?’ conversation in the morning if I were to fuck you right now.” 

You rolled your eyes, your body shooting up into a sitting position so you could follow his lead with trying to appear more presentable. The way he worded what he had said made you inwardly grimace. Was it just an excuse not to fuck you whether drunk or sober? Considering you had been sober the last couple of times he initiated anything between the two of you, you were beginning to think he was just…bored. 

“I also don't want to take advantage of you.” 

Your eyes cut up to his from under your lashes, lips pressed into a thin line that accurately portrayed your annoyance. What a line that was. 

“I can make decisions for myself,” you grumbled before carefully sliding off the edge of the pool table. Noah was quick to reach for your elbow when you stumbled a bit, his much larger form helping to steady you. 

“Right, because you're very much not out of it right now.” 

Okay, fine. Maybe he was right and you weren't as sober as you liked to believe you were. Didn't mean you were going to admit it though. 

You opted to simply remain silent. He could kiss your ass. 

Noah released a heavy sigh as he stared at you, his shoulders dropping in defeat. His hand remained wrapped around your elbow even when you refused to meet his gaze now. But what did he expect? You were embarrassed. 

“Let me get you home,” he spoke after leaning down to plant a kiss to the crown of your head, his grip on your arm tightening so he could pull you in closer. 

One more thing you weren't going to admit was how that small gesture had made your stomach do a somersault. 

X X X 

The next morning you were sporting a massive hangover. Who was shocked? Not you. 

You groaned as you tossed and turned in bed, pulled the comforter over your head, and tried your best to block out the annoying as fuck dinging. What the hell even was that? 

“Fucking hell,” you grumbled. Tossing the blankets back, you then realized it was your phone going off, to which you quickly sat up and reached for it. 

You had five missed texts from Red, seven from Mel, and one from Noah. Your eyes shifted to the top corner of your phone screen so you could check the time, your heart dropping to your ass when you saw it was well after noon. 

Fuck! You had missed work. No wonder Red was blowing up your phone. You were surprised he hadn't called the police to do a wellness check yet. Not once had you ever been late to his house. Early, yes. Late, never. 

YOU: I'm so sorry! I was feeling a bit under the weather and didn't realize I had slept through my alarm. I'm on my way right now! 

Red responded within a matter of seconds, his punctuality barely giving you the time to even drag yourself out of bed. 

RED: No need to worry about today. I'm just glad you're alright. Please rest and do give me a call if you need anything. -R

Well, at least that meant you didn't have to be anywhere now. You heavily sighed as you dropped back against your bed again, mentally preparing yourself for whatever nonsense Melinda had texted you. Actually…you were going to deal with that later. Instead you went right for the single message from Noah. 

HOT NEIGHBOR: Let me know when you're awake. There's some aspirin and a glass of water on your nightstand. I'll be at the club if you need me. 

A smile crept over your lips as you looked to your bedside table where a bottle of pain medication and a glass of water sat, just as he had said. While you didn't remember all of last night, it would've been impossible for you to forget the weight of his body on yours or how he had helped you up to your apartment in the early morning hours. 

But this also meant that you remembered asking him to stay with you…which you assumed he had declined considering there was no indication that anyone had slept in your bed other than you. Fuck, that was going to haunt you for the rest of time. 

You downed the aspirin in a single gulp, hoping and praying that it would ease the pressure in your head as soon as possible. After responding to Mel’s multiple angry messages about how the guy she met at Nocturnal sucked, you finally ventured out of your room to find something to eat. That quest left you mostly empty handed since all you could really find was a strawberry Nutrigrain bar. Yeah, you really needed to go grocery shopping. 

Snack in hand and your arms crossed over your chest for warmth, you slowly approached the large window in your apartment. Noah’s apartment across the breeze way was empty as far as you could tell, just as it typically was. You studied the basic items in eyesight: couch, television, lamp, a plant. You paused while bringing the Nutrigrain bar up for another bite. A plant? 

A small side table was now positioned off to the left of the window and on top of it was a potted plant. The leaves were bright green with flecks of white that you assumed were flowers beginning to bloom. You couldn't stop the smile from overtaking your lips before you rushed back to your room to grab your phone. 

Noah had put that plant there for you. There wasn't a doubt in your mind about it. It couldn't just be a coincidence that you brought up needing some “visual stimulation”, as he would say, and then a plant appears. 

You immediately found his name in your contacts and tapped the option to call him. It only rang a couple of times before his voice sounded on the other end, the effect it had on you highly visible. 

“Are you okay?”

Leave it to Noah to be worried just because you were calling him. 

You ignored his question and went into a query of your own. “Have you named it yet?” 

“Named…what?”

“The plant in your window.” 

There was a brief pause followed by the breathy laugh he did that you liked so much. 

“I guess my interior designer liked your suggestion. But no, I haven't named it. I'll allow you that honor.” 

“I'll have to think on it.” 

“Well,” Noah began again. “Let me give you something else to think on too. Maybe dinner? Tonight?” 

You suddenly froze as you were mid-bite into what remained of your Nutrigrain bar. Holy shit. Was he asking you out? You pried your teeth out of the bar without yet taking a bite, your heart now pounding within your chest. 

“Like…a date?” 

“Unless you'd rather call it a business meeting, then yeah, a date.” 

                                        —

And that's how you ended up at Noah’s favorite Japanese restaurant that night. You sat across from each other in a little separate dining area that lined the back wall of the restaurant. Each room was open, but inside of it was a low table that allowed you to sit on soft cushions versus the usual chairs. You were mad at yourself for wearing a dress but Noah told you he would be your shield when you had to stand. 

“I'm horrible at this!” You laughed as the piece of sushi fell from your chopsticks yet again. 

Noah had been trying his best to teach you how to use them but you were a lost cause to the art. 

“It is getting kind of sad watching you fail to eat,” he teased. 

With a huff, you set the chopsticks aside and grabbed the piece with your fingers instead. You were done playing games with those complicated utensils, just as your growling stomach also was. 

Noah could only shake his head at you in feigned disappointment while showing off his own impressive chopstick skills. 

“I'm half Japanese,” he explained, as if that meant the ability to use chopsticks just ran through his veins. Maybe it did. What did you know? Your ancestry definitely wasn't as exciting as his. 

“That's cool,” you shielded your mouth as you chewed your lump of fish and rice. “Have you ever been to Japan?”

Shaking his head, Noah mixed a bit of wasabi with his soy sauce before dunking another piece of sushi into it. “Too busy here with the club and everything else. It's hard to even get a night off.” 

“But you managed to tonight,” you pointed out with a sly smile. 

Noah lifted his eyes to yours, a smile now on his face that mimicked your own. “Jolly owed me a favor.” 

All you could do was stare at him, your pleased expression lingering. He looked so different when not in the Nocturnal atmosphere, like he could fully breathe and relax his shoulders for once. Sometimes you found it hard to believe that the man sitting in front of you was one in the same with his Nocturnal counterpart. 

“I have a question.”

With his mouth filled with sushi, Noah nodded for you to continue. 

You propped your elbows on the table and leaned forward a bit, your voice lowering so no one could overhear. “Why do you stop us from going further whenever you touch my underwear?” 

Noah suddenly coughed, his fist lightly banging against his chest to help dislodge whatever had gotten stuck. He eyed you while reaching for his water and taking a generous swallow. 

“Have you been sneaking shots of sake?” He questioned through his gulps of water. 

Chuckling, you shook your head. “I'm just curious since it's happened twice now.” 

Three times if you count the last dream you had of him but that was definitely not something you were going to bring up. Ever. 

As he took in a deep breath after regaining his composure, Noah fumbled with his chopsticks. If you didn't know any better then you would say you had made him blush, but you would pass it off as being an effect from his coughing fit. For his sake, of course. 

“It's not done on purpose,” he finally replied. “Neither time has been the right time and that just happens to be whenever my head decides to work again. The head on my shoulders, that is.” 

You couldn’t help but to faintly smirk at his admission, though you covered it by taking a bite of the ginger on your plate. 

“The one below my shoulders…mind of its own.” He murmured under his breath like you wouldn't be able to hear him. You opted not to taunt him for it. 

A few topics later and Noah finally pushed his plate away to indicate that he was full. You had already done the same, the sushi weighing heavy on your stomach. You didn't regret a single piece of it, though. 

“So, the guy last night, Ruffilo…”

“Nicholas?” You cut him off, brows raised. Noah cleared his throat a bit and nodded. 

“Do you know him?” 

You shrugged as you sipped from your water. “That was only the second time I've met him. He's the grandson of Red, my other boss. One of many, apparently.” 

You could tell that Noah had something he wanted to say but he was contemplating heavily about it. His jaw was clenched, his fingers still fumbling with his chopsticks that were now placed down on the table. You wanted to reach over and grab his hand so he would stop and calm down, but you resisted. 

“Whatever it is you want to say, go on and say it.”

“I just really need you to be careful, okay?”

You looked at him with a confused stare, your head tilting to the side slightly. 

“Why does it always feel like you're keeping something from me?” 

Noah opened his mouth to speak but then paused as the waitress approached. He passed off his debit card when she asked if they were ready for the check, his body language showing how eager he was for them to leave. Why? She couldn't say.  

“Noah,” you pressed. 

“Because I am,” he finally admitted. “But only to keep you safe. The less you know, the better.”

“Jesus,” you rolled your eyes. “I'm so tired of everyone thinking they know what's best for me.”

“Hey, no, that's not what –”

You cut him off by dropping your napkin into your plate and making a move to stand. You didn't even care if you flashed him in the process because at least the glimpse of your bright red underwear would let him know what he was missing out on that night. 

Standing and smoothing out your dress with as much grace as you could muster, you didn't even spare Noah another glance before you were walking away. “I'll be outside.” 

Yes, you were mad, but you weren't dumb enough to walk home alone when people were looking for you. The city was big but never quite big enough if you were trying to hide.  

Noah found you barely a minute later leaning against the front of the restaurant. With your arms crossed over your chest and your heels digging into the pavement, you glanced his way when you felt his overwhelming presence. He may look like a completely different person when wearing a t-shirt and jeans, but he still had the same effect on you just from being close. 

You fucking hated how drawn to him you were. Like you were an idiotic asteroid caught in his planetary orbit and you couldn't get away even if you wanted to. Which…fine, you didn't. Not really. That wasn't something his arrogant ass needed to know, though. 

“I liked it,” you softly spoke. You glanced back towards the restaurant over your shoulder, motioning towards it. “The sushi.” 

“I told you it was the best in the city,” Noah smiled. 

Pushing off the wall, you responded with a sarcastic roll of your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, so you did.” 

You began walking towards the parking lot with Noah in tow, his steps quickly meeting up with yours. Damn those long legs of his. With only silence drifting between the two of you, you began to feel the awkwardness seeping in. Not from the silence itself but from your childish storming out. You weren't going to apologize for it because you weren't sorry, not in the least bit, but you knew you could've handled it better. 

“It's really frustrating,” you began as your pace slowed and you nervously toyed with the ring on your index finger. “When everyone around you is keeping secrets and you constantly feel like you're on the outskirts of your own life.” 

Noah exhaled slowly through his nose, his pace again matching your own until you both came to a halt at the passenger side of his car. He licked over his lips before dropping his gaze to yours, a look of concern present in those eyes of his that you already loved so much. 

“I know,” he said as he brushed your hair from your shoulder before lightly grasping the back of your neck. 

“I don't think you do,” you shook your head. “My dad, Vane -” you lowered your voice at his name as if just speaking it would summon him from the depths of Hell, “everyone kept me in the dark and expected me to just go along with whatever they had planned.” 

You were trying to ignore the way his fingers were lightly stroking the nape of your neck because it would be all too easy to fall into the temptation of that sensation. Apparently your body had other plans, though. Chills formed along your arms and you were sure that if you glanced down then your nipples would be rather present against your dress, so you quickly remedied that by crossing your arms over your chest again. Goddamn him. 

“It's not fair, Noah,” you continued. “I have every right to know everything. Well, at least everything that has to do with me. You know what I'm saying.” 

Noah smiled as you stammered over your last few words, your aggravation at a boiling point. His hands shifted until he was cradling your face within his palms, the pads of his thumbs lightly stroking along your cheeks. 

“You're really fucking cute when you get flustered.” 

Your eyes narrowed up at him into a glare and you suddenly pushed against his chest. “You're an asshole,” you muttered. 

Noah laughed but still placed a chaste kiss to your forehead before you could shove him away again. He then opened the passenger side door for you and made sure you were settled before venturing around to the driver’s side. 

“I'm trying to identify the men who came looking for you from our security footage,” he explained once you had been driving down the road for a few minutes. 

“It's proving to be harder than I thought because I doubt guys like that are just going to pop up in a system, so I'm having to dig deeper.”

You finally looked over at him, your face expressionless. You were thankful for his honesty on what was happening but you also wanted to smack him upside the back of the head. 

“Why didn't you just ask me who they were? I've been around my dad and Vane’s men for years.” 

Noah shook his head, his wrist flexing on the steering wheel where he was using it to drive. “I didn't want you involved anymore than you already are. I told you that I'm trying to keep you safe. If anyone were to catch wind of a girl snooping around with me, it would be very bad.” 

He glanced to where you were seated just as his free hand extended out to rest on your thigh. He gave your heated skin a reassuring squeeze, but left his hand to linger. Your heart rate immediately picked up at the skin to skin contact, a shaky breath escaping. 

“Play dirty all you want, but I still expect you to show me pictures of these guys.” 

“So bossy,” he chuckled, but then gave your thigh another gentle squeeze as a silent acceptance of your demand. 

There was a lot of back and forth once Noah pulled into the apartment building as to whether or not he was going to walk you up to your place. You told him again and again that you were fine, but he made the argument of being a gentleman and needing to end your first date right. 

How could you deny him that? 

Standing outside your door, he had one hand on your hip and the other on the back of your neck. Noah’s version of ‘goodbye’ meant having his tongue in your mouth again but you definitely weren't going to complain about it. 

What a gentleman he was indeed. 

You fumbled to try to grab your keys from your bag as his lips ignited that familiar fire within you again. He had been right - it was so much better when you were sober. There was no haze lingering that made you question whether or not this was a dream, no swirling thoughts. You could freely feel every hard line of his body against yours and the way his fingers grabbed you with a need that rivaled your own. 

“I need to unlock the door,” you murmured into his mouth. Laughing like a love struck little school girl, you managed to turn away from him, but that wasn't stopping Noah from pressing into you from behind and kissing along your neck. 

Your eyes fluttered closed and your hands trembled while you tried your best to slip the key in. All while his own large hands had disappeared beneath your dress to graze your bare hips and thighs, turning you into a puddle right then and there. 

“Having a hard time?” Noah teased as one of his hands ran across your lower stomach, his fingers dipping just beneath the band of your panties. 

You pressed your ass back into him to give him a taste of his own medicine, a deep groan then given to you in response. His grip on your hip tightened just as you managed to unlock the door and push it open. Barely a step in was taken before Noah had you turned around, the door shut, and your body sandwiched against it. 

Fuck, you didn't know if you two were even going to make it back to your bedroom. He was on the verge of taking you right there against your front door. 

Grabbing beneath your thighs and hoisting you up, your legs immediately secured around his waist and pulled him in close. You could feel how hard he was against your thigh and you were desperate to help him find some relief, but he had found solace at your chest first. Noah tugged the straps of your dress down, his lips trailing eager kisses along your chest and down the valley between your breasts. Each touch of his lips to your skin was like a spark of electricity and you wanted more. Needed more. 

“Noah,” you gasped once he had pulled your dress down more and gained access to your bare chest. His tongue flicked across your nipple as your hands threaded through his hair, gripping tight into the locks to keep him in place. 

“I can't get enough of the way your body responds to me,” he lowly spoke as he transitioned to your other nipple to give it the same attention. 

You smirked, your eyes then slowly opening when your hands dropped to begin working open the button of his jeans. Suddenly, you paused, your body going completely still. 

“Noah…” your voice was more serious this time, but it took you lightly tapping his shoulder for him to realize that you were trying to get his attention and not urging him forward. 

It only took him a couple of seconds of reading the scared expression on your face and witnessing the trembling of your lower lip for him to follow your line of sight over his shoulder. 

Your apartment was a disaster. The cushions of your couch had been ripped apart, side tables overturned, the television smashed. Things previously on your walls now laid destroyed on the floor, just as little knick knacks you had here and there also did. 

Noah had you on your feet and your dress situated correctly in a blur. He was wearing the Nocturnal mask now, his face hard and unreadable. 

“Stay here,” he demanded, his hand pressing into your stomach to keep you against the door. 

Then he began to slowly move through your apartment, checking every corner and closet, glass cracking beneath his feet. All you could do was listen to his command, your arms now hugging yourself and tears threatening to spill over. You weren't going to let yourself cry. Not over materialistic items that didn't truly mean anything. 

But what if you had been home when whoever stopped by to ransack your place? Had they come by in hopes of finding you or did they know you were out? Was it targeted or were you simply a random victim of a burglary? 

“Everything is clear,” Noah exclaimed a short moment later when he came walking back up to you. You hadn't been able to pull your gaze from the empty picture frame that laid shattered on the floor, though. It used to house an image of you and Mel from your fifteenth birthday. 

“Are you okay?” His voice was soothing but it was his hands lightly touching your face that brought you back to reality. Noah tilted your head up to look at him, your eyes meeting through the dim lighting after he had turned the kitchen overhead on. 

“I need you to ignore the mess and pack a bag, okay? Can you do that for me?” 

“What? Why? Where are we going?” You were slightly frantic as your eyes searched his, but it was expected when your entire life was being turned upside down - literally. 

“You're going to stay with me until I can figure out what to do, alright? So, please, go pack a bag and be quick.” 

Noah was eager to get going, you could tell from his voice that he was trying his best to remain calm and collected for you, though. He continued to lightly push your hair back, his fingertips grazing your jaw until you were finally able to nod. 

As you began to slowly maneuver your way around the disaster that was your apartment, you paused in the hallway, your hands fisted at your sides. 

“Noah,” you called out softly. “This is the last time I run from these assholes, got it?” 

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[cerealbishh]

"When we head out to Whitefish, there won't be any turning back."

[daemonbrain]

Part 2

1.8k, cw: ghosts a pervert, smut, readers husband is piece of work, not proofread.

Simon Riley who first saw you at the butcher's shop on the phone. 

You were a pretty thing. Wearing a pink little yoga set, one arm holding your mat and the other holding your phone to your ear as you wait for the butcher to bring out your cut of meat.

Which was taking a long time

Simon would’ve had it chopped and packed to go by now. Though, he can’t complain with the view he has of your ass- you. The man was touch starved. He hadn’t been back home in a while, back-to-back deployments keeping him occupied. His only company being his calloused and scraped hands roughly jerking himself until he came, bordering on unpleasurable. Not what some could consider enjoyable, but try being in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere for weeks on end and see if you care so much about gentle.

The borderline perverted look you were blissfully unaware of was tracking down your form. He stared at the way the material tightly clung on to every bit of you in a welcoming way, a second skin. The sweat on you from your little session.

Just how flexible does yoga make a bird like you?

It was only when he heard a grating sound come from your phone that he snapped out of his trance. Even with his bad ears from all the bullets whizzing past him, bombs going off within meters of him, and the usual shit show he did for a living he could hear the voice which bled through your phone's speaker.

"Get me a steak this time. Nonna that nasty shit from last time!"

You hurriedly turned your volume down as it blasted in your ear, startled by the voice. Chewing on your lip you pivoted towards the counter to see if your order had been brought out; the motion to no avail as the employee continued chopping away in the back room.

It was only when your other hand came into full view from the motion he noticed the absolute rock on your finger.

"Honey, I thought the salmon was pretty good." That prick clearly firing something back as you winced away from your phone once again. Gritting your teeth as if biting back your arguments, looking around to occupy your time as the man on the phone continues to speak. "I know... I'm sorry. Don't worry, it'll be ready by 7." You placatingly cooed.

"Listen, I have to go. I love y-" You began, but the moment the words tumbled from your lips you pulled the phone fully from your cheek to see a blank screen with the time staring back on you. The asshole hung up!

What a fuckin tosser.

Simon hears the butcher finally call your name with familiarity and with a sigh you step towards the counter. 

He leaned on to the wall further as he had been the entire time. Silent. Unsettling. A stark contrast to your bright appearance in the shop, the larger man brooded in his corner waiting his turn.

“See ya’ next Friday!” You still managed a bright smile at the butcher who handed you your meat.

A mild thing like you really shouldn’t be talked to so thoughtlessly, some guys are fuckwits though. He never liked the type. Why lock a bird down with a ring if you were gonna be mean to her?

“S’cuse me sir, i’m just gonna push past you here” You asked. With widened eyes, Simon gruffly mumbled a “Yeah,” out before creating a stupidly small space.

Maybe he really did want you to push past him. Or just push up on him but oh well.

Sweeping past him, you give him a toothy smile as you had so sweetly done to the butcher, as if you hadn’t got yelled at less than five minutes ago. God you really have no common sense, beaming up at the lurker in the corner at least twice your size. A girl as pretty as you should really stick to herself.

From that interaction on, Simon found himself being guided by the memory of you back to the butcher shop the next Friday.

And the next…

And the next.

Every week progressively standing closer and closer to you as you picked up your usual order. One day you had taken the liberty of starting small talk with him after recognizing his unmistakable stature. After all, there were only so many people you had seen in this shop and none so… large.

You could not deny you found this mystery man disquieting. Always dressed in dark colours, not so much as a word coming from him. Like clockwork you would come in after hot yoga, greet the butcher, he would come in, silence would ensue as you both waited for your meat, and you would leave with a quick smile.

It was rude. He had never even said a simple hello to you! Though, you suppose that it could be due to your own curt exits. The thought of the unkindness you might’ve exhibited subconsciously sent your mind into a spiral, leading to your abrupt introduction.

After all, who were you to judge! Kindness is and should always be the response in your books.

At this kindness, Simon swore he had to take a breath in as you politely outstretched your hand and spoke your name casually. Tilting his head down to your face he raises a brow skeptically, and then firmly shakes your head.

He failed to hide the shudder which wracked his body. The way your hand effortlessly slipped into his. Soft and manicured engulfed in his.

“Simon.”

“Well it’s good to meet you Simon” With the twinkly little smile you would grace him as you hauled it out of the shop. He felt the shiver go down his spine a second time when you spoke his name for the first time.

And then- it happened.

You giggled. A soft thing, no doubt intended to be small. It wasn’t to Simon though. It reverberated throughout the room, rang so prettily in his ears. Fuck. He would remember that sound later on tonight.

“Are you cold? You keep shivering. It’s pretty harsh out there right now.”

“Nah. Not really.” His accent thick as he shrugged.

Letting out a little “mhm” you nod and look back to the counter.

“I was freezing outside! Usually I walk home-” Simon already knew that “-but today I called my husband to come grab me! Way too cold!”

That visibly made him stiffen. Of course. Perfectly normal that guy is coming to get you, he’d be an idiot to leave you walking home alone in the cold.

If you were his girl, Simon wouldn’t have let you out of his sight. Fuck sakes you practically had “come mess with me” written all over you. There were creeps all over the place nowadays, (thought the creep).

He would’ve carried everything for you, scarfed down whatever the hell you had taken the time to prepare him. That husband of yours doesn’t like your salmon? Simon would. Hell if he didn’t, he’d cram it down his throat with gratitude anyways. He doubted anything could be worse than some of the rations he’s eaten on duty. 

That train of thought is pretty redundant when he takes note of how you wouldn’t be able to leave the bed to make anything.

Maybe you’d cram something of his down your throat in gratitude.

Shaking his head subtly, he hears the bells of the store door opening. He watched your face fall as you step away from him and it’s when he sees your husband's look of complete irritation he understands why.

You had grabbed your order swiftly and with a quick wave goodbye you were on your way back to your husband. Simon could only register your husband's whisper-yell as he disapprovingly glared his way. “The fuck are you doin talking to him?”. And with that you were hurriedly ushered out.

You deigned it necessary to continue greeting Simon, have little chats about the weather, any plans he had for the weekend. Tossing in your stupid jokes that he would laugh at. You interpreted it as something closer to a breathy snort-hopefully positive- and it went on as such for weeks

And every time he returned home Friday night, he came home with only one thought after. You.

As he laid in bed the same thought persisted as he slipped his cock out of his boxers, red and weeping for some sort of stimulation. He took to his usual harsh pace. You’d be so much softer.

You’d be so nice to him wouldn’t you? Coo some compliment as he lets you tug at him. Fuck he wouldn’t know what to take first.

Would you give him a blowie or a hand job? 

No. You wouldn’t be on your knees- not yet. If you’d let him have you, you’d be on your back in an instant. He’d rip the stitches of those leggings right down the middle, your panties next.

“Fuuuuuck” he moaned into the quiet of his room. He’d stick it in slow, he’d try. It would be torture not to ram himself right up to the hilt, but he’d do it for such a good girl.

That’s what you were, weren’t you? Always a nice word for someone? What would you say to him when he began to rut into you like a madman. When you would feel the pummeling intrusion, his head knocking into the deepest parts of you.

He’d be able bend you into so many different positions that you’d better hope that yoga has taught you well. Split your legs open to accommodate his imposing body size as he’d take purchase between them. Then you better hope your cunny can accommodate his other size when he spears you open on his cock.

Would you take it smiling? Would your tears roll down your cheeks, the prodding bordering too much? You’d take it either way, he knew you could. He’d rub at your clit with such tenderness he never afforded himself (as gentle as he could anyway). He’d make sure you begged to stay on his cock forever, fuck himself so deep you would be too stupid to pull away unknowing of where he ended and you started. Not that you’d have to care.

He’d flip you on to all fours and rip away your clothes entirely, pounding you from the back and instead of just his own labored breaths, the sound of skin slapping together would ring out.

In silent stoicism, he feels his balls tighten up at the thought of your perfect face stuffed into the pillows screaming your thank you’s. You probably were just as nice with someone stuffing themselves into your pussy.

At both his ruthless ministrations and boundless imagination, his release spurted all over his hand with a breathy sigh. When you were here he’d make sure to slam his hips to yours and keep them flush against you, coat your insides in hot cum better than your limp-dick husband ever could. That man wouldn’t be able to fuck you the way Simon knew he could. You deserve someone who could make you go stupid on his dick, not cry of frustration like you probably did everytime that knob who thinks himself a man rolled over after finishing himself off.

Not that you’ll have to worry about that soon

…

He wouldn’t be around for much longer anyways.

[monstersholygrail]

Vampire bf spooning you in the middle of the night, nuzzling into you so roughly that it causes you to slowly wake up. As soon as he senses you’re not completely asleep, his arms curl around you and he bury’s his face in your neck. Groggily you bare your throat to him, thinking he might be hungry.

But instead he simply whines and cuddles in closer. It’s only then that you notice he’s shivering. A soft “What’s wrong, darling?” croaks past your lips. He doesn’t respond, letting his actions speak louder as his hands slip under your shirt and brush along your soft stomach as if trying to steal up all your warmth. You hiss at his touch, his usually cold skin even colder for some reason. “You’re freezing,” you can’t help but exclaim the obvious.

Your vampire bf whimpers, nodding his head within the warm fold of your neck. “Need your warmth. Need your heat, baby please,” he says in a soft whine, one hand tugging at the seam of your shorts and giving you an idea of what he means.

As soon as you’ve pulled your panties down, he’s sliding himself between the warm supple flesh of your thighs. He hisses in the space of her neck, his body shuddering with pleasure.

Your lips part, feeling his throbbing cock push its way through your legs, so close to where you need him. His tip bumping up against your clit with every snap of his hips. Arousal pools within you till it drips onto his cock. Your bf growls, hips moving faster.

“Ah, fuck! More. Please,” you beg, baring your neck once again. Your hips tilt, craving the feeling of being filled by him.

“My heart, I could devour you whole and still crave more," he rumbles, his hips bucking to catch every drop of your essence on his length.

His hand tenderly cups the underside of your neck and brings it to his lips. You sense the heat of his breath and goosebumps rise along your arms a second before you feel the sharp prick of pleasure caused by his fangs. You shiver as he slowly sinks them all the way in.

The combination of his fangs inside you and the way he slows down the rocking of his hips causes your eyes to droop as you begin to drift back to sleep. His hand massages your plush thigh, gently shifting it back over his own, legs intertwining.

With your thighs open, your bf has easy access to slide his length inside your eager and dripping walls. You both moan as he pushes past your entrance, his girth carefully stretching your precious pussy as he takes his time stuffing you full of him. Bringing a delicious dull ache to the apex of your thighs.

He settles in once he’s buried his length to the hilt, your hips fitting together like two puzzle pieces. He relaxes against your body and wraps every limb that he can around you. Cocooning your being in his protective embrace. Making you feel exactly as treasured as you are.

“That’s better,” he slurs contently in an attempt to speak with his fangs in your neck. Soon after you start to feel his skin warming back up against your own. You smile softly, finally falling back asleep and happy you were able to help him.

Never finding out that Vampires have full control over their body temperature.

[thearcherbrothersx]

"I can understand that, darling." Truly, he did. They were very different people though when it came down to it, and now just in the obvious sense where she was all smiles, laughter and vibrancy, and he was... well, not. But on a deeper level. What they needed, how they processed emotions. "You don't need to apologise. I just wanted you to know that I'm not expecting anything." He shrugged his shoulders lightly and clearly that was that; the end of that particular topic for now.

His expression went dry at her attempted humour, features flat aside from the slight arch to his right brow; entirely unamused by the intentional misinterpretation of his words; the little crack at his expense. Her attempts at diffusing a serious situation that way rarely worked on him, and now was no exception. Polar opposites in so many ways, it was a wonder they weren't sick of each other by now. And yet, when it wasn't so entirely out of place, he rather enjoyed her energy. Enjoyed those little bursts of something warm and unexpected. Unexpectedly so, some people (people probably called Marcus) might say. His features were neutral for only a moment, though. Then he seemed to shake it off, letting a small curve at his lips breach the barrier. He just made a slight shake of his head before leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead.

She was practically vibrating - or at least it felt that way to Declan, her energy a palpable thing. Her eyes swimming with so much emotion he might drown in them - if only he let himself dive in. And there was this pull, a pull he'd spent the past few weeks getting used to, somewhere in his chest. His fingers slipped a little further back on her hips as her hands found his chest, and then she asked that question. So softly, a little shyly. And it wouldn't be a stretch to say he fell just a little bit deeper in love with her in that moment. It showed in his eyes, somehow both brightening and darkening. "Yes, my sweet darling," He exhaled slowly, leaning down to bring their faces closer, his nose brushing the side of hers, his breath hot against her lips.

His hands lifted her fully onto the desk as he did, shifting his hips in between her legs. Fingertips crawled beneath the hem of her dress. The moment was so slow, so soaked in anticipation, the promise of what to come, that the air between them felt charged, his heart beating just a little harder in his chest... until, finally, he tilted his head and closed the distance between their lips. The kiss was soft at first, languid even, his lips almost lavishing the softness of hers with attention. Gentle nips and almost teasingly light pressure, just taking his time enjoying her. Then one hand slowly slid to the small of her back, giving her body a nudge closer to his - and he deepened the kiss; took her lips fully, pressing against her, stealing her breath - showing her exactly where she belonged.

It would have been easy to dig in. To make this a thing too. But she didn’t want to argue with him over semantics. Because no, to her, care and responsibility were not just interwoven. To be responsible for something necessitated care - you didn’t get mostly ignored by a negligent father, then raised by an overwhelmed older brother and not coming out of that feeling some type of way about responsibility, care, and all the facets of relationships in between. But she bit back the irritation she felt at the sarcasm in his voice. He didn’t get it and Cora didn’t care enough about this to try to make him understand. She was going to leave it, but just wanted to offer up some key insight - “I don’t want to feel like an obligation to you.” Resilient, she could take a lot, but not that. 

Besides. There were other, more pressing matters that she’d dragged to hand. She was starting to feel it, that drain that came from vulnerability, the full weight of the emotional day slamming against her. Cora had hoped she was hiding it well, wearing a brave face, but by the time she’d finished giving him her perspective, he was standing, taking her hands into his own, it was clear she’d been seen. It was sweet, and frustrating, just how well he was able to read her, not that she was a closed book, but he’d clearly picked up on her nuances. It softened her, even when she could feel herself hardening, “Sorry. I said too much.” He took her hands to his chest, and she let out a little sigh, her fingers curling against that spot. “It’s just hard for me to talk about, so while we were on the subject I thought I’d just… get it out.” A way to minimize the pain in the long term, and to avoid getting caught off guard by a question that would very likely rock her. 

“Okay. That sounds good.” And then, because there was one thing he’d said stuck in her head, that she simply had to tease him about. “And y’know,” That devilish little smirk popped up. “If I’m not gettin’ around to it quick enough and you’re starting to get to that unattractive point,” A ludicrous idea from the surface level, even if she knew he didn’t mean it exactly like that, “You just lemme know and I’ll get a move on.”  But she didn’t want appointments. Didn’t want examinations. Didn’t want to sit with a doctor and hear what she already knew to be true. After all, they’d only been discussing her dream life, not reality, and she wasn’t under any illusion that that would ever happen. 

It was easy enough to let it go, to be distracted away, as his large hands traveled to her hips. She held her breath as he spoke, as if she kept totally still she might be able to process, catalog, and remember every nanosecond. He did it. Said the words she wanted more than all the others, a possessive feeling clicking in her when he told her I’m yours. Her hands hadn’t left his chest, and now they slipped to his shoulders. She was dyingdyingdying to kiss him, to fling herself at him, to go on her tiptoes and show him everything she felt. Wouldn’t that be so better? But she was learning. And she’d always believed in the power of reciprocation - if he was going to give her so much, then she could do the same.

So her hands stilled, cupping his shoulders, feeling shy as she asked him, “Will you kiss me, please, Sir?”

[dark-and-kawaii]

♡ Imagine Nanami cradling his newborn daughter tenderly. His blonde locks that were once neatly slicked back now messily frame his face- serving as playthings for tiny, curious hands. The infant giggles, gripping and curling her fingers, attempting to grab at her father’s hair with pure delight. Nanami’s heart swelled, a genuine smile appearing across his face.

“Ya know… Fatherhood really suits you, you know that?” You murmured, resting your head against his arm.

Nanami looked down at you, his eyes- always so tired from the cruelties of the world and working far too much, were now soft with affection, “I never thought I would have a life like this… I always felt it was far out of my reach…”

“Kento…”

He brought his daughter up to his face, his lips pressing a kiss to her forehead. His voice was a low whisper, yet you still managed to hear his words, “I love you. Both of you. More than anything in the world.”

You could see it, not only in his smile, but his eyes as well… they held some fear. Afraid of the life he led, afraid of it coming to take the family he had so lovingly built away from him. Nanami had seen much in his time as a sorcerer. The loss of people dear to him- their deaths never failing to haunt him… He was scared… Scared of leaving you both behind, scared of the what-ifs…

“Kento, you worry far too much. I promise we'll be here, right by your side. Always and forever, okay? You’re always going to awaken to me in your strong arms.” You give his bicep a soft squeeze, “no way anyone could get past these bad boys.”

A low chuckle rumbled in his throat, holding his baby girl in one arm, he used the one you squeezed to bring you into a loving embrace, drawing you even closer to his body. Drawing you closer into his world, a world he once thought would be forever in solitude. This was all a simple moment, but Nanami felt the full weight of this newfound joy- the joy of being a father and a loving husband to you. Nothing could've prepared him for this profound privilege.

You were his home. And for the first time, he allowed himself to relax and trust in your words… that everything would be alright...

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you show your husband some affection, thinking you two were alone - only to be interrupted by your son.

tags. dad!toji fushiguro x wife!female reader. fluff, suggestive. mentions of toji developing / having a dad bod. & reader having a mom bod. reader gets called ‘princess, mama (by gumi)’. baby gumi waking up bcs of a nightmare. excuse me - not beta read bcs i was half asleep when writing this rt_t

“tooooji,” you smile as you enter the kitchen. you’ve put megumi to bed - finally - and have the chance to spend some one-on-one time with your dear husband. both of you deserve the rest after a hard day of work.

toji has been putting the dishes back in their designated spots whilst you were away. the dark-haired man turns his head to the side once he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist. a small grin tugs at his lips, “missed me, princess?”

you roll your eyes. even if years have passed since your marriage, toji has not stopped using that specific nickname for you. he loves calling you ‘princess’, because that’s what you’ll always be to him. in his eyes, at least.

“mhm,” you decide to indulge him. you bury your face into his broad back, feeling the muscles he’s worked so hard on obtaining. after megumi was born, toji did let himself go for a bit, but that is a good sign.

it means he’s content with his life - this peaceful life that he’s settled down for with no regrets. no more being reckless, no more battling for money; he’s now got a family to come back home to after all.

“is the little brat asleep?” toji asks while putting the last dish away. he’s visibly enjoying your warm hands that have slid under his shirt. your skin is so soft to the touch compared to his.

you chuckle and nod to his question. “gumi’s sleeping like a baby,” you rub your husband’s stomach gently, feeling the little bumps of his fading abs. you’re loving his new body - just as much as toji loves yours.

toji turns around to face you, desperately needing to return the favor. he can’t get enough of being with you. his rough hands grab your waist and bring you closer against his body, until your chests are nearly touching. he lowers his head to your neck, “that means i can show my wife how much i love her, yeah?”

you shiver at how toji’s voice turns from soft and gentle to sexual and husky. big hands find their place on your tummy, massaging the loose skin with its stretch marks. you can hear your husband’s breath hitch. “fuck,” toji swallows his spit, his fingers moving to grasp your hips.

toji loves how your hips got wider after you’ve given birth to your child. every change in your body, whether big or small, is completely welcomed by him. your body has blessed toji with a son he loves and he’ll forever be grateful for that fact. the least he can do is take his time to appreciate you.

“so beautiful,” toji sighs as he leaves soft pecks on your neck and throat. his fingers are working their way down to your thighs and ass—not leaving a single patch of skin untouched. his lips eventually find yours and you melt into his embrace.

it’s getting heated and the tension is palpable. toji’s about to lift you into his arms when you catch a glimpse of a short figure in the doorway. your eyes widen and you immediately detach your lips from your husband’s.

toji quickly catches on and sighs. he cocks his head to the left, the sight of his toddler standing at the doorway coming into view. “damn kid,” he whispers, nearly pouting because of the interruption. you playfully slap his bicep—a warning to fix his potty mouth in front of megumi.

“h-hey, gumi,” you say with an awkward giggle, walking towards the child. you fix your shirt in the meantime, straightening the material. you crouch down to megumi’s level and pat his head tenderly, “what happened? why are you out of bed?”

megumi stares up at you with teary eyes. he’s clenching onto his dog plushie, hugging the stuffed animal to his little body. you can easily guess that he’s scared—probably because of a nightmare. he’s been getting those more frequently.

though, instead of explaining himself, megumi searches for answers to something else. he points at his dad who’s leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. the toddler then looks back at you like he’s made some big discovery;

“mama papa kissing!”

you nearly choke on your spit. megumi’s a clever little boy and it shows through his advanced vocabulary. you’re surprised that he’s learnt what that meant already. you try to deny what your child said, “no, uhm, mama and papa were just hugging!”

toji snorts at your half assed excuse. he lazily walks over to you two, hands in his pockets. he bends forwards and looks megumi in the eyes with a huge smirk on his face. “yeah, we were. ‘n you totally ruined it,” he utters without any shame and menacingly sticks his tongue out at the little boy.

you hiss and lightly shove toji—he cannot take anything seriously. you’re trying your best to distract megumi’s attention from what he’s seen his parents do, to what his reason is for waking up.

“did you have a nightmare again?” you coo and pick your son up. he instantly snuggles up to you and presses his face against your chest in search of comfort. you smile and can conclude that your assumptions are right.

you pet megumi’s head whilst softly humming one of his favorite lullabies. toji watches your interaction with his son and his mood softens once more. he silently hugs you from behind—also wrapping an arm around megumi—turning it into a little family group hug.

“y’re all right, buddy,” toji mutters to megumi and the little boy sniffles in response, “mama ‘n papa ‘re right here.”

after a couple minutes, you carry megumi back to his room before putting him down in his bed. your husband stands next to you as you make sure your kid is tucked in properly.

megumi stares up at you with a sniff and you nearly melt at the adorable sight. you brush his bangs out of his eyes and kiss his forehead, wishing him a good night. the toddler nods and hugs his plushie to his chest again, still a bit shaken up from the nightmare. however, he’s doing a lot better after he got comforted by both his parents.

“sweet dreams, gumi,” you whisper and rub megumi’s cheeks with a fond smile on your lips. toji simply stares at you conversing with megumi—his face showing little to no emotion. though, from within, toji is absolutely in awe at your motherly personality. you’re the perfect mother.

megumi gets drowsy and tosses onto his side so he could be more comfortable. he struggles to open his eyes, but manages to look at toji. the little boy pouts and points another finger at his dad, this time drowsily warning him, “papa no kiss mama, ‘kay?”

that comment catches you off guard. you’re embarrassed by the fact that megumi still remembers what he’s seen in the kitchen. you try to clear your throat and explain yourself, but toji’s one step ahead of you. he silently mimics megumi’s words and rolls his eyes—

“yeah yeah, whatever. i won’t,” toji promises his son. the toddler clearly inherited your husband’s protectiveness. you chuckle at the playfulness between the two, enjoying the jokey banter the father-son duo have each time.

megumi huffs in victory and nods. he can sleep in peace now, knowing his dad won’t try anything funny with you. he closes his weary eyes and is asleep within just a few seconds.

you stretch your arms and sigh in content. you can’t help but chuckle once you notice how megumi’s fallen asleep with a tiny smile on his lips. you give the child one last forehead kiss before leaving the room in silence.

toji follows right behind you. now that his son is sound asleep, he doesn’t have to keep his promise. technically— he wasn’t planning to anyway.

“c’mere,” your husband mumbles and grabs your hand. he pulls you into a tight hug, hands instantly roaming your body which he admires so much. he plants his lips onto yours not a second later.

you smile into the kiss, finding it funny how toji couldn’t keep his (fake) promise for even one second. he would die if he actually couldn’t kiss you, and that isn’t even an exaggeration.

toji pulls back after a moment and smirks at you—those bedroom eyes of his very telling.

“so, where were we?”