#we were promised water was turned on in the kitchen when it was not

[issues4him]

thinking if rafe ever raised his voice to his wife or babies, and it’s out of pocket for him to do so, reader lowkey has flashbacks of her father and it took days for rafe to get him on her good side again

cw: yelling, mentions of abuse

it happened on a tuesday. you remembered that because tuesdays were always hard—long afternoons, short tempers. the kids had been especially loud, dinner was burning, and rafe had come home already on edge. you could tell by the way he slammed the truck door, the way his boots hit the floor harder than usual, the way he didn’t kiss your cheek when he passed you in the kitchen. but you didn’t ask. you never wanted to poke the bear.

hunter was crying. emmett was whining about the ipad. wren was spilling her water on the rug again. and rafe—tired, stressed, and already spent—turned around from the fridge, tossed his hat onto the counter, and snapped. “can y’all just shut the hell up for two damn seconds?!”

his voice rang out, sharp and rough, louder than it ever had in this house. the whole room went silent. the kids froze. emmett’s lip trembled. wren’s big eyes welled up with tears. your body locked up like someone had pulled a string in your spine. it was the voice. that tone. that flash of anger in his eyes. for a second, he wasn’t rafe. he was someone else. someone you’d grown up with. someone who made your mother cry and hit you when things didn’t go his way. your chest tightened. your hands started to shake. you didn’t say anything. didn’t yell back. didn’t correct him. you just reached down, scooped hunter into your arms, and walked quietly out of the kitchen.

he didn’t follow you right away. not that night. not when you avoided his eyes at dinner. not when you got the kids ready for bed without a word. not even when you curled up on your side of the bed, back turned to him, arms wrapped tightly around yourself.

it took him until the next morning to realize something was really wrong. and another full day before he broke—softly stepping into the bathroom where you were brushing wren’s hair and murmuring, “can we talk?” but you didn’t look at him. you couldn’t. it took days. days of silence. of him trying. of you flinching when his voice got even slightly raised. of him reaching for you at night and you gently pulling away. of him watching his whole world shut down behind the walls of your quiet heartbreak.

he sat you down finally, hands trembling a little as he cupped your face, brushing his thumbs gently across your cheeks. “i’m sorry, baby,” he said, voice cracking, “i don’t ever want you to be scared of me. not even for a second. i don’t care what kinda day i had—i don’t ever want to raise my voice at you or the kids again. i swear to God, that’s not me.”

you stared at him, eyes wet. “i know,” you whispered. “but for a second… it felt like my dad.”

and that broke him. he held you so tight, tighter than he had in months. whispered apology after apology. pressed his forehead to yours and promised he’d do better. swore he’d never be like that man—not in this life, not in any. and it took time. but eventually, the quiet turned warm again. eventually, the sting dulled. and eventually, rafe proved—day by day, with soft hands and a softer heart—that he was nothing like the man who raised his voice at you growing up.

he was yours. and he’d never forget how close he came to losing that trust.

[bullet-prooflove]

Pittfest: Jack Abbott x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @gabsgabsvaz @yousigned-upforthis @flyinglama @cosmic-psychickitty

Companion piece to:

The Asshole King

Masochist

Seven Shades of Fucked Up (NSFW)

Part of the Job

Jack wakes up to lingering kisses, to the sensation of gentle fingertips trailing patterns over his back as he moans into the pillow, the afternoon light filtering in through the open window.

“Time to get up sleepy head.” You whisper in his ear as he buries his face deeper. “We don’t want to be late to Pittfest.”

“Shit honey.” He mumbles tilting his head towards you as he cracks his eyes open just enough to see your silhouette resting next to him on the mattress. “Is that today? I said I’d cover for Anderson tonight, his kids sick.”

“Oh.” You say and he can hear the disappointment in your voice as your fingers stop combing through his tarnished silver curls. He captures your hand, planting a kiss on the back of it.

“You’ll have more fun with your friends anyway.” He tells you and your lips purse together into a smile that doesn’t quite meet your eyes.

“Yea.” You say quietly as you slip from the bed, heading towards the bathroom. “I need to get ready.”

He listens to the door slam closed behind you before he sinks back into the mattress. You’re pissed, he knows you are but it’ll all be worth it to see the look on your face when he hands you two first class tickets to Rome in a couple of weeks.

He must fall back asleep because the next thing he knows he’s waking up to a silent apartment. That’s how he knows you’ve gone already. Wherever you go there’s always noise, singing, humming, talking to the plants as you water them, now there’s nothing but this ominous quiet, one that reminds him of when he used to live alone, the police scanner crackling in the background for company.

It isn’t until he gets himself into the kitchen to make coffee that he realises how badly he’s fucked up.

There’s a pink envelope resting on the table with his name on it, propped up against a small wrapped gift box. He frowns as he opens the card and tiny shards of brightly coloured confetti fall into his lap.

Happy anniversary they read and that’s when he realises how big of an asshole he really is. That’s what Pittfest was about, it’s why he took the day off in the first place. All of those back to back shifts he’s been pulling for that surprise trip have gotten him turned around, he’s lost track of the dates.

Christ, he thinks as he rubs his palms over his weary features. No wonder you were upset with him.

He tries to call you but your phone rings out. The festival has been going for a couple hours by now and he knows you’ll probably be at the sound stages, cutting loose to a few of the bands.  

“Faye.” He says into your voice mail. “I’m sorry honey, I fucked up. This week of shifts completely messed with me. Call me back so I can beg for forgiveness. I’ll make it up to you I promise.”

His phone chimes before he can even put it down and he thinks it must be you texting him back but then he sees the notification.

Hospital recall: Mass casualty event, incoming from Pittfest.

And something inside him dies.

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[milliesfishes]

౨ৎKnow That My Love Would Burn With Me/We'll Live Eternally (Birthdays)౨ৎ

౨ৎ꣑ৎmasterlist౨ৎ꣑ৎ [fem reader] contains: stress pairing: fem reader x billy the kid summary: ~birthdays~ author’s note: forever thank you to @phantomamour <3 Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

The sun was tracing a river up your leg, the part that wasn’t covered by your chemise. Droplets from your time in the water glittered on your skin, and you sighed, relaxing into Billy’s chest. His big arm was slung heavy over your chest, cheek leaning against your head. You were sitting pretty between his legs, lazily spread to accommodate your body. 

“Mm,” you mumbled as he adjusted his arm over your breasts. 

He kissed the side of your head. “Sorry, sweetheart.” You’d been sensitive there as of late, a common occurrence close to your monthly.

“This is nice,” you breathed, and he thumbed your collarbone. You settled back into his chest, warmed by sunlight. “It’s been ages since we’ve been over here.”

“We were here with Annie just last week,” he corrected, and you shifted in his hold. 

“It’s been ages since we came here, just the two of us.” You drummed your fingers against his wrist, taking in a deep breath in and out. “Everything with Annie’s birthday…”

“You’re doing a real good job, angel,” he promised, reaching up to brush your hair over your shoulder. “It’s gonna be a nice day.”

“I just want it to be perfect for her.” You sat up, turning to look at him. “It’s an important birthday.”

“Honey you’ve said that every year,” Billy said, trying to pull you back into his chest. “You’re running yourself ragged.”

“She’s turning twelve, Billy,” you said softly, not coming down with him. “She’s growing up so fast. If we blink we’ll miss it.”

The years had passed by so quickly, a moment in your mind full of magic and wonder and love that had nourished both you and Billy so wholly. It was like your heart grew with every new year, love becoming something you couldn’t have enough of. Your darling daughter was your light, your guiding force. She was yours and Billy’s, to love and keep for now.

For now.

Billy was quiet for a moment, kissing your shoulder. He rested his chin there, humming something familiar. When he spoke again, his tone was gentle. “It feels like yesterday she was losing teeth, huh?”

You laughed, finally sinking back into him. “It does.” Musing, you hid your face in his chest, curled up between his legs. “She’s a good girl. Your daughter through and through.”

“Yours too,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “She’s a sweetheart just like you.” Giggling, you hid your face back in his shoulder, slumping against him. His big hand traced patterns into your spine as you relaxed. “You just rest, darlin’. You’ve been so tired lately.”

“Mhm.” You were getting sleepy lying out here in the sun, your combined exhaustion with the heat making your eyes heavy. “We gotta go back. Gotta get dinner ready still.”

“I’ll take care of it, baby. Just rest,” he soothed, rubbing your side. “I’ve got you. Everything’s okay.”

Billy always had a way of calming you, and it wasn’t failing now. You breathed out, doing as he said. Drifting off, visions of flowers and birthday candles danced under your eyes, broken only by your lover’s fingers drifting up and down your side. Releasing a tense breath, you slipped into a dream, ignoring the twinges in your body, trying to tell you something you weren’t awake enough to care for at the moment. All that mattered was the smooth lull of the wind in the trees and Billy’s soft whisper to rest in your hair. 

Everything was okay, just like he said.

The fresh blossoms you’d carefully woven together the night before sat pretty atop Annie’s head as she bounded inside from her walk with her father. She was breathless, half laughing along with Billy, who removed his hat and hung it on the corner of one of the chairs by the kitchen table.

You caught your daughter in your arms, nose falling to her hair, sweet smelling as ever. “How was it?” 

“We saw bluebirds!” she exclaimed, looking up at you with bright eyes. You cherished the fact that she still loved the small and darling things about the world. 

“Birthday bluebirds,” Billy added on, sinking into the chair and nearly upsetting his hat. He gave you a lazy grin, eyes knowing. “Annie, I think there might be somethin’ in your room.”

She whirled around to look at him. “What?”

“Go look.” You released her with a kiss to her hair and she flew down the hall to where her surprise waited for her. Billy extended a hand in the meantime, which you took and allowed him to pull you down to sit on his thigh. Your legs tucked themselves primly between his, and you leaned against his chest as his arm fell to wrap around your waist, cheek warm against the top of your head. 

“You know you coulda come with us?” Billy rubbed your waist over your dress.

“I wanted you two to have some time,” you smiled, rewarded with a kiss to your brow. “And I’m a little tired anyways. It’s okay.”

“Hmm?” Billy secured both arms around you, holding you flush to his chest. “You’ve been tired real often, sweetheart. You feelin’ okay?”

“It’s just stress,” you assured him, rubbing a soothing circle into his chest. “Nothing that can’t be fixed by some rest.”

When you looked up at him his brow was scrunched, mouth poised to say something else, but he was cut off by a loud squeal from elsewhere in the house accompanied by rushed footsteps. Annie appeared in a blur of smiles and sunshine, leaping forward and throwing her arms around you and Billy. “The canvases are beautiful! And the new paints!”

“Your daddy was so excited to make them for you,” you smiled, wrapping your free arm around her. 

Billy squeezed you both tight. “You’re gonna make something beautiful like you always do. Happy birthday sweet girl.”

“I love you.” Those three little words never failed to bring joy to your heart, and when they were filled with so much happiness it nearly brought you to tears. Perking up, her eyes widened. “Maybe I can make it in time to get the sunset!” Annie disappeared in the blink of an eye, leaving you with a smile.

The silence that followed her departure was soft, filled with Billy’s gentle touch. It was broken when he stretched an arm out, tilting his head back with a hand still on your tummy. “I’ll start dinner.”

“Oh, I’ve already got it going over the fire,” you smiled, straightening one of his suspenders. “Just need to watch it. And there’s a cake in the oven.”

“I can keep an eye on it all,” he promised, lips pressing to your temple. “You go lie down for a bit.”

“It’s no problem,” you tried, but he patted your waist.

 “C’mon. Go rest up, you’ve been busy today.” Billy bounced his knee and you giggled. He did it again, using the distraction to sweep you into his arms and stand up, carrying you through your laughter and landing in your bedroom atop the covers. You threw your arm over your head, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes. He knelt at your side, smoothing your hair and kissing your forehead, his stubble scratchy on your skin. “Close your eyes for me?”

Still smiling, you did as he asked, beginning to relax. Billy gave you one last kiss on the forehead before you heard his footsteps exit the room. You shifted, your exhaustion finally catching up to you. He was right about you having been tired lately. Your body was achy too, even though the time for your monthly had long passed. 

Eyes flying open, you bolted up, a jolt of confusion rocking you to your core. It had been two months since you’d bled. All the figures began to add up in your head as you recalled how different your body had felt as of late as a whole, like it wasn’t your own anymore. Even Billy had commented on it, you recalled, on one of those late nights when he was determined to kiss a trail down every portion of you. “You’re softer,” he’d said nearly worshipfully. “Like you’re glowing.” 

At the time you’d not taken it into account. But now it was yet another mark against you.

Shakily, your hand moved to cover your stomach, a feeling of panic constricting your throat. Six years. Six years since you’d pleaded with any higher power for this very thing and now it was here. Despite the doctor’s apologies and warnings somehow this had persevered. By all rights it was impossible and yet…

Sleep was out of the question now. You laid back down, tears rising in your throat as you shut your eyes and tried to feign unconsciousness in case Billy came back in to check. You could hear his quiet humming from the kitchen, the only note of comfort in this moment. Should you tell him? That notion was dispensed of almost immediately. He’d be so disappointed if this happy news turned sour.

Your body wasn’t equipped to support such a fragile little life. The way it had been abused and altered was sure to destroy the baby growing inside, and the thought of it devastated you to no end. Stiffening atop the covers, you tilted your face sideways into the pillow and let a single tear fall, arms crossed over your middle.

Maybe you were atoning for some unknown sin, this gift given for the sole purpose of being taken away.

Previous Part | Next Part

[abbyshousefire]

"you're here to fix the electrical problem. right?" i say.

the electrician has arrived.

i am wearing one of my 50's dresses for the ounce (oz) of joy it can bring me, as i chop zucchini on a cutting board. on the floor. with my hatchet.

i look up, smiling.

"you're here to fix the electrical problem. right?" i say.

my roommate sits in the corner. listening to buried part II by darkher. full emo outfit (their words). the volume slowly increases. my eyes are blank. i stand up. i'm still holding the hatchet.

"you're here to fix the electrical problem. right?" i say.

[lovegasmic]

𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗬▶ WELCOME HOME, CALEB 𝗩𝗛𝗦

‘ zayne x fem!reader x caleb ’ love and deepspace

⌞ PG-18 ⌝ — based off Caleb’s first scenes but with the current reunion◞ double penetration◞ thigh fucking◞ cunilingus◞ fingering ◞ squirting ◞ kitchen sex ◞ blowjobs ◞ creampie◞ tips touching◞ three way kisses◞ there is a little tension between Caleb and Zayne◞ and Caleb is a tease / sarcastic but not mean◞ w plot !

“let’s invite Zayne over for dinner”

you still remember that day clearly, when things were perfect, having shared a yummy lunch with Caleb and Grandma before everything went crashing down.

who could have through that lingering promise would have turned into a “let’s invite Caleb for dinner” instead.

surprised was not even the correct word to express how you felt upon reuniting with Caleb once again, shock, confusion, happiness, all emotions previously bottled up now bursting as you ran to embrace the man you had missed deeply.

“Zayne will be running a little late” you explain to Caleb who is currently standing next to you while helping chop a few vegetables, giving some extra attention to the carrots, “there was an emergency at the hospital”

Caleb couldn’t care less, to be honest, hiding the fact that he would very much rather spend the whole day with you alone, but alas, some time before the black haired man arrived was also welcomed.

“oh, really?” he hums, grabbing yet another carrot to chop, nonchalantly with a slight hint of a smile on his face, “it’s a pity, he works too much, doesn’t he? he’s probably getting wrinkly already” his words are so filled with amusement, like an inner joke he is not willing to share.

“don’t tease him” you scold him gently, “but yes, Zayne is often overworked, he never listens when I ask him to take breaks”

“he is a girls repellent, they don’t like workaholics” Caleb starts, almost as if he was testing the waters while you turned to wash a few used utensils so couldn’t see his eyes following you to gauge your reaction, “girls like attentive guys…, guys who can cook…, don’t you think” was he… praising himself?

“well—” Caleb scoffs a little loud, a sound you would have heard if it weren’t because the door suddenly was pushed open and Zayne walked in, with a bag in his hand and sliding his glasses into the shirt pocket with the other.

“oh, Caleb, it’s good to see you again” the doctor’s tone is as flat as you expected, yet he still approaches to greet the other man whose only thoughts are why did Zayne had the code to your apartment, why is Zayne so comfortable in your house, why is Zayne placing his hand on your waist while walking past you.

Caleb is not liking this at all.

“yeah” the smile gets back in place with a hint of annoyance that lasts a second, “good to see you too, Zayne”

the latter’s attention shifting to you almost immediately, now there is a soft smile while leaning next to you to check what’s in the oven, then the bag he was carrying is left on the counter, “i got some—”

“macaroons” Caleb chimes in with that smirk that borderlines on bickering, “i’m not surprised”

Zayne’s eyes lay on the other man, looking a tad bored even, then down on the counter with an almost imperceptible raise of a brow, “and you are still obsessed with carrots, i’m not surprised either”

“she loves them” Caleb motions to you while his eyes lock on Zayne’s

“i can’t—”

“she likes macaroons better”

“that’s you, actually—” you get to whisper under your breath, the atmosphere thick with unexpected tension.

“we grew up together” Caleb retorts, “i know her better”

“i also grew up with her”

“but not as long as me”

“are you sure about that?”

“stop!” you finally raise your voice and both of them turn to look at you with expressions softening like puppies who just got scolded, “why are you fighting? this was supposed to be a nice dinner” your voice lowers with a sigh as you lean over the counter with both hands on the surface.

Zayne is the first to speak, resting a hand on your lower back, “i’m sorry”

and Caleb joins, saying your name very gently while bringing a hand to cup your nape, “i’m sorry too, I didn’t mean to ruin things” then he plants a kiss on the top of your head, to which Zayne replicated with a kiss on your shoulder, their affection making you shiver slightly.

but you don’t reply yet, having a hint of a pout on your mouth that both men find absolutely adorable, starting to leave more kisses across your skin, Zayne trailing up your neck to your ear while Caleb went down to kiss your neck and collarbones, unable to stop the soft whines that left your lips. and they continue, taking the cute little sounds you make as encouragement, “so cute” Caleb murmurs, with a hand coming to squeeze your waist and rub under your shirt with a thumb.

Zayne on the other hand, trails his hand up and down your back, settling on top of your butt and gently tugging you closer to the both of them.

“I didn't mean to upset you” is Zayne who speaks first, lowering his head to take a better look into your face and slowly pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

which Caleb takes as a challenge, mimicking the other man to stare into your eyes with a smile, “come on, pipsqueak, forgive me” then presses a kiss on your lips, a chaste one that leaves you slightly surprised, unable to properly understand what just happened before Zayne repeats the act, the frown on his face almost imperceptible because of the way they’re constantly kissing you without giving you a moment to think.

until both crash and you are left utterly speechless when they both kiss you, with hands on your hips and waist, tongues sticking out to meet the other two in what you can just catalogue as the lewdest kiss you’ve ever gotten, unsure of whether of it’s Zayne or Caleb whose hands grope your ass, whose the one sliding a hand under your shirt until it comes to lay under your boob and you moan against their eager mouths.

the kiss does not stop, it’s so messy, with saliva, tongues and teeth, muffled groans of delight solely from kissing your soft lips.

“you taste delicious” Caleb parts with a pant, as if he has just ran a marathon and would do it again, all while Zayne takes the opportunity to kiss you himself, still without much words, yet cupping the back of your neck to tilt your head back and devour your mouth, sloppily and uncharacteristically messy for a doctor of his level.

kisses get peppered on your neck next, lower and lower while your other best friend starts to slowly open your blouse buttons, his tongue leaving a burning trail that soon cools against the air from where his saliva touches the skin of your chest, down the valley of your tits. his hands being too skilled and Zayne’s kiss leaving you breathless that your lust filled brain barely registers the other man’s hands undoing your bra, too impatient to even take it off so he just pushes the soft fabric up and attaches his lips to a nipple, sucking eagerly and barely nibbling on the sensitive flesh, sending waves of slick down your already drenched panties.

“ah, fuck—” you moan against Zayne’s mouth, who eagerly receives the sound with a low growl of his own, slow and very gently sliding the hand —you now realize was Zayne’s all along— down the curve of your ass and under the skirt, barely teasing the crotch of your panties with a single finger that dips in between your folds through the flimsy fabric.

moans only grow, getting a little choked with how dizzy both of them made you feel.

Caleb’s lips are so eager, so soft and warm, leaving each nipple utterly sensitive and coated in saliva as he moaned against your skin, unconsciously helping Zayne keep your skirt up around your waist as he slowly knelt in between your legs, nose bumping against Zayne’s fingers and your lower lips that were so visible through the soaked panties, “fuck, love… you smell divine” his voice so deep and makes your knees buck, and forces Zayne to finally release your mouth with a gasp as his green eyes flickered to the sight of Caleb between your legs, eagerly tugging down on your panties until the fell on the cold ground with a soft ‘splat’ due to how wet they were.

you whimper at the coldness, which gets quickly replaced by Caleb’s lips attaching to your clitoris, sucking the engorged nub, “C-Caleb! a-ah yes” your cries are heavenly for both men, who can feel their cocks getting even harder at your sounds, smell, and they way your cute body shook.

Zayne is quick to help, latching his lips to your earlobe and nibbling, making sure to wrap an arm around your waist to keep your body upright as his finger found your empty and fluttering hole, “so wet, so pretty” his voice is deep, caressing your ear like his fingertips does with your hole before dipping inside, “and so tight…”

“Zayne!” you mewl, now, holding onto Caleb’s hair with a hand and Zayne’s wrist with the other, a few seconds away from letting out a sob bubble out your throat.

“good?” and you nod, gasping at each delicious thrust and curling motion of the fingers inside your gushing cunt that squelched vulgarly, alongside the sounds of the man between your legs, slurping and sucking on your clit and folds as his life depends on it, occasionally brushing against the other man’s fingers which makes him groan.

there is slick dribbling down your legs, which Caleb eagerly laps up with a low, murmured, “fucking delicious” before his lips are on you again, there’s a cacophony of sounds, to which the sound of belts soon join and a muffled growl against your folds, before you can hear a soft ‘shlick’, fluttering your eyes open to be greeted with the sigh of Caleb between your legs and his arm moving desperately between his own.

“can I…” Zayne breaks your line of thought, pressing a kiss on your nape and the tip of his now bare and drenched cock rubs against the back of your thigh, immediately understanding what he was asking for and you nod.

Caleb stands finally, with lips coated in slick, aggressively fisting his own fat and veiny cock that already leaks precum before he is kissing you now, sharing the taste of your juices and a hand tight on the hair in the back of your head to keep your head still.

“you taste so good” Caleb mumbles with what you can just explain as a drunk hazed smirk, and you’re no far from it, with half lidded eyes, moaning wantonly while a little line of saliva dribbles down your cheek at Zayne’s two fingers abusing your cunt, managing to hit the delicious spongy spot that had your hole gushing waves after waves of slick all over his hand and a bit on the floor.

your hands land on Caleb’s shoulders, tugging for another kiss at the same time Zayne’s thick cock slides between your legs, keeping them squished for a better grip.

“stay like that” he murmurs so low and dark that you, once again, get impossibly wetter, soaking his cock that’s perfectly nestled between your folds and bumping on your clit with each thrust.

it really is flattering how both of them get whipped by you so easily, with Zayne moving faster and faster until your body gets also rocked back and forth, and his cockhead brushes against Caleb’s in front of you, making them both moan and you whine at the sound, throwing your hips back to get a little more friction, “m-more, please, I need to cum” you almost beg, and a hand lands on your clit, offering to rub you through an orgasm but you refuse, “no, i— ah!”

Caleb cups your face with a hand, a little tighter than necessary but his dark and blown pupils stare at you, “what do you need?”

Zayne stops too, rubbing on your lower abdomen so sweetly, “your cock” you murmur and precum dribbles down your thigh.

“whose?”

“both…” you barely murmur, letting another moan leave with how tight Zayne’s hands get on your hips.

“are you sure?”

“yeah… maybe… one at first?”

and they both agree, now Caleb sitting atop the kitchen counter, legs spread and your eager and warm mouth wrapped around his long cock that fills every inch of your mouth, veins pulsing in a warning of an imminent orgasm that he forces to stay down until he has a taste of that sweet cunt too.

“oh, darling, oh fuck” you never could have expected for Zayne to be so vocal, moaning against your neck while he basically humps your pussy with tiny thrusts that keep him deep, but they are so aggressive, so needy that you get pushed further against Caleb’s cock lodged down your throat, and a few tears fill your eyes at the stretch.

“ah, yeah, shit…” is the latter who moans now, grabbing a fistful of hair and keeping your mouth still, drooling all over his pelvis, “i need to fuck your cunt now, Zayne move over”

there is a little grumble from Zayne but he obeys, pulling you back against his chest that is now just covered by a shirt, you gasp and pant at the amounts of air that fill your lungs, allowing for Caleb to stand up in front of you, he was completely naked unlike Zayne and you who just had a skirt and socks on right now.

they tilt your head at the same time, lips crashing like minutes ago, making you so dizzy that you can barely register how they both lift you up, having you squished in the middle, thighs spread wide and swinging over their big arms.

“c-careful” you murmur through the mess of tongues upon feeling another cock poke on your clitoris, teasing the slick soaked skin and down your full and overly stretched hole that pulses around Zayne.

“i’ll be gentle” Caleb smirks, prodding against your abused pussy and slowly but steadily getting inside, the three moan simultaneously, the stretch too wide but still as inhumanly good, the feeling of their cocks rubbing together was sending shivers down their spines but none of the men was willing to say it out loud, barely nibbling on their bottom lip to keep the sounds down.

“so… tight” Zayne murmurs with open mouthed pants against your nape.

“you feel… ah… so amazing… what a heavenly pussy” Caleb comments next, keeping your thighs wide so his balls finally press flush against Zayne’s and your needy cunt.

“y-eah…! s’ full” your words are slurred, eyes crossing already and barely having time to think before they are moving and tossing you around, too pussy drunk to stop as they use you like a rag doll, up and down, sometimes in circles that has your toes curling and chest glistening with sweat and saliva that leaves your mouth wide open, almost dumb.

they groan unabashedly, muttering praises to your gorgeous cunt for sucking on their cocks so good, like a damn fuckin’ vice, refusing to let them go even if your brain shuts down, “s’ good, s’ fuckin’ good, feel funny…”

they have never seen a sight so pretty, your eyes crossed and filled with tears, tits jiggling and nipples hard in blissful pleasure.

there are a few jets of liquid gushing from your pussy, too stupid to even realize you’ve been cumming on their cocks already, they’re tiny but makes both of them groan when louder, hips snapping brutal and vulgarly against your over sensitive and used pussy, that keeps cumming nonstop.

Zayne has a hand on your pelvis, barely above your pussy, pushing in the skin to keep you flush and somehow feeling the movements of your insides being fucked by their fat cocks, making you squeeze them tighter.

“i’m going to cum” Caleb mutters with a hoarse tone, his forehead is covered in sweat and his head low, jaw slacked to let out those pleasure sounds, “can’t last longer, this pussy is too good”

Zayne does not want to admit how embarrassingly close he is as well, gritting his teeth while his hips snap a bit harder, making his flesh slap against your ass that’s sore by this point.

two, three more minutes and they fill you to the brim, tips pushing into that spot that is just so deep and you come crashing with a scream, soaking their lengths and balls with squirt while they both fill your womb with semen, so thick and so much you feel like throwing up.

no one speaks for what feels like hours, trembling in the middle of the kitchen floor, until Caleb speaks, “i hope… we can do this dinner again” his voice is low against your neck, and soon the smell of burnt food fills the air.

i’ve been wanting to write for them since so long so if its ooc I apologize ajsgshs

[libingan]

—no questions asked.

you’ve always been his, even before the words were ever said—no labels needed when everything else speaks for itself.

i remember candace and jeremy's relationship in phineas and ferb. i liked how jeremy assumed they were already dating and thought to myself "simon riley" so here it is.

it’s always been this way with simon.

the little things you’ve shared, those moments that nobody else gets to see, have slowly built up over time. long drives where the silence is comfortable, quiet moments when you’re wrapped up in a blanket together, his arm draped around your shoulders. you’ve shared soft kisses in the early morning light, whispered words when you think no one’s listening, and occasional touches that linger just a second too long to be deemed innocent. his gruff voice calling you his—just “his,” as if you’re already a part of something bigger, something unspoken.

but the question always lingers in the back of your mind: what are we?

because in your head, you’re not his girlfriend. you never really were. sure, you’ve done couple things—spent hours together, laughed over inside jokes, shared moments that feel like they belong to only the two of you. but whenever you think about it, you can’t quite place a label on what you are. you never had that conversation, the one where he asks you out, where you define what this thing between you is.

and deep down, you’ve always known. maybe it’s not meant to last. maybe simon’s just passing through your life like a storm, wild and unpredictable, leaving you wondering if you’ll ever feel whole again once the dust settles. you’ve never asked for a commitment. it was enough for you to just be close, to keep things easy and fluid, without any promises that might eventually break.

but then, everything changes the moment you decide to confront him.

it’s a quiet night, the kind where the world outside seems to stop, and you’re sitting in the living room, the only sound being the soft hum of the kitchen light. simon’s sprawled across the couch, eyes half-lidded as he scrolls through his phone. you’re sitting on the floor in front of him, leaning your back against the coffee table, and you can’t stop your thoughts from swirling.

the truth has been eating at you for weeks now, months maybe. you have to ask. you need to know if this is really what you want, and more importantly, if it’s what simon wants. so, you let the question slip, unsure of how it’ll come out, but it tumbles from your lips all the same.

“simon,” you begin, your voice quiet but firm, “what are we?”

he doesn’t immediately look up from his phone. it’s as if the question barely registers, but you know he’s heard it. you can feel his attention slowly turning your way, as if his brain needs a second to process the weight of your words.

he puts the phone down, tilting his head slightly to get a better look at you, his gaze soft but intense. he doesn’t say anything at first. instead, his lips curl into a small, knowing smirk.

“what do you mean?” his voice is low, almost like he’s testing the waters.

you swallow, feeling a tightness in your chest, and you try to make your words come out right. “i mean… we do all this stuff, simon. you call me yours, and i… i don’t even know where i stand. we’ve never really talked about what this is. are we… are we dating, or what?”

he blinks at you for a moment, clearly taken aback by your words. it’s almost funny, how much you’ve thought about it, how much you’ve analyzed your every interaction, while simon has likely never questioned it. it’s simple to him. and that’s when it hits you—he’s never even considered that this could be anything other than what it is.

he sighs, a deep, exasperated sound, and leans back into the couch, his arms crossed over his chest. his eyes lock onto yours, unwavering. “what are you on about, woman? you’re my girlfriend.”

the words hang in the air, and for a moment, you can’t quite process them. you blink, unsure if you’ve heard him right. it almost sounds like he’s stating a fact, like it’s something as simple as breathing. his voice is firm, unwavering, as if this was always meant to be the case.

you feel your breath catch, the weight of his words sinking in, and then—just like that—all your worries melt away. you don’t even know why you were so worried in the first place. the uncertainty, the anxiety, it all seems so silly now. you’re not sure whether to laugh or roll your eyes at the absurdity of it all. simon is, as always, so simon about it. there’s no drama, no overthinking, no need for big conversations or declarations.

you’re his. you’re his girlfriend. and there’s no debate.

the relief hits first, followed closely by a mix of amusement and a small flash of annoyance. you try to hold back the grin tugging at your lips. “wait... just like that? no question, no ‘will you be my girlfriend?’ just… you’re my girlfriend?”

he meets your gaze, nonchalant, and shrugs. “that’s right. you’re mine. no need for any of that nonsense. i’ve already decided.”

you stare at him, feeling a warmth spread through you that has nothing to do with the temperature of the room. it’s the way he speaks, like he’s already certain, already claimed you. and it feels… good. reassuring, even. but also, just a little bit frustrating. because, honestly, how do you even argue with that?

“god, you’re impossible,” you mutter, a grin breaking through as you roll your eyes. “seriously. you’re so damn sure about everything.”

he just smirks back, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. “you should be glad i am, sweetheart. now, come here.”

he pats his lap, and before you can protest, you’re already moving toward him, the tension from moments before completely gone. his arms pull you close, and you settle against him, feeling his familiar warmth. you don’t even need the words anymore. somehow, just being with him like this is enough.

and that, you realize, is exactly what simon’s always known.

[shouyuus]

to kiss the sun

violet; 5,574 words; fluff and smut, no "y/n", wlw, tribbing, oral (r!receiving), face-riding, fingering (both receiving), switch!vi supremacy, service top!vi, p0rn with feelings (many MANY feelings), morning after vibes, gratuitously fluffy sex, popstar!reader x vi au

summary: the morning after vi shows up at your penthouse, you make good on your promise to show vi a few things you picked up at the brothel; sequel to counting stars

a/n: i didn't know writing smut could make me so soft. vi is needy and we must do our duty to give her everything she wants. thanks for coming to my tedtalk.

─── Ⅵ SHE'S SO USED TO WAKING UP alone that for a second, the empty bed doesn’t feel unfamiliar. and then — flashes of the night before flicker like frames of a still-remembered dream behind her eyelids — your steady, delicate hands, the trickle of bath water like piano music against her skin, the gently perfumed mist that had hung in her chest for hours after that bath had ended.

your lips, her tongue, the promise of a morning just far away enough to forget.

vi shoots up, blinking sleep from her eyes. all her muscles feel sore, but there’s a warmth pulsing beneath her skin that she hasn’t felt in… years. her limbs are heavy, thick still with the honeyed dregs of dreams but the space next to her on the oceanic bed is vast, and the only sign that you’d been there the slightest ruffle of your silken sheets.

she wraps her arms around herself, her mind still swimming with memories of last night, even as a frown creases her forehead.

“don’t worry, i’m not going anywhere. promise.” that was what you’d said — and yet.

a hard-lined prickle works up the back of her throat and vi slumps back to bury her face in a large, fluffy pillow, letting out a groan. she feels like a child, petulant and wanting. but it doesn’t stem the clench in her stomach, the old, viperous voice in the back of her head that whispers —

see? everyone leaves you. always.

and then, from somewhere beyond the closed bedroom door, she hears… singing. and she’s tumbling out of bed before she can stop herself, her toes curling into the soft pashmina carpet, her fingers cold against the doorknob as she pushes through.

she finds you in the open kitchen, your back to her as you prod at something on the stove. the delicious smell of cooking meat hits her nose and immediately makes her mouth water. but she’s held still by the sight — you still wearing the large nightshirt from last night, your pink lace robe slipping off your shoulder as you sway back and forth on your tiptoes.

the lemon-yellow light spilling through your massive windows gilds you in morning-glory gold.

vi lets out a breath she doesn’t remember holding and pads her way towards you, looping both arms around your middle and burying her face in your neck.

“oh!” you gasp, turning slightly, your eyes wide, “i didn’t hear you —”

“i thought —” vi’s voice is cracked and gravely from sleep; she clears her throat and takes a breath, “you weren’t in bed when i woke up so —”

you let out a sound like a tiny laugh, setting down the spatula in your hand as you twist around in her arms. behind you, three fat sausages and a few eggs are cooking on a large flat pan.

“i didn’t wanna wake you up,” you say, leaning in to press a kiss to her lips, “you looked like you were sleeping so well.”

vi sighs, trailing a knuckle along your cheek, even as she tugs you back for a longer kiss, a deeper kiss. one that has you gasping against her.

you giggle as she pulls away, a bit breathless. “and… you were snoring up a storm so —”

vi leans down to bite at your neck, fingers fisting in your hair to tug your head back for more access.

“i don’t snore.”

“wanna bet?”

vi pulls back with a crooked grin before her eyes flicker back to the pan. she swallows.

you turn, reaching for the spatula again.

“how do you like your eggs?”

“uh… not raw?”

you roll your eyes, bumping her with your hip even as she settles herself against your back, her chin resting on your shoulder again.

“i like mine over-easy, but i can make them scrambled too, if you want.” you scoot the sausages towards the side and flip over one of the bubbling eggs, the sizzle of the oil making vi’s stomach grumble loudly behind you.

“i’ve…” vi pauses, ghosting her lips over your shoulder, “no one’s ever really asked me that before so… i don’t… i don’t know.”

your hand pauses as you shuffle the sausages around the edges of the pan. and then —

“okay, then i’ll make one of each, and you can try both! then maybe tomorrow, i can poach a few — those are the really good ones where the yolk is all runny —”

“hey.”

vi twists your chin towards her; the kiss is sweet, but you can taste the fluttering desperation beneath her tongue, as if she’s searching for something within the warm caverns of your mouth, and that if she can just kiss you hard enough or long enough, she might just find it. when she pulls away this time, there’s something flickering in the pre-dawn blue of her eyes.

“vi?”

she shakes her head, her gaze skating along the contours of your face as if you were a painting she’d been trying to memorize.

“i just —” she swallows again, “this… all just feels too good to be true — like… like the whole thing’s a dream and i’m gonna wake up one day alone and —”

you smile as you press a hand to her cheek. “hey, hey — none of that now. the eggs are gonna overcook —” you turn back around to tend to breakfast, even as vi groans and digs her face into the nape of your neck, her fingers biting into the plush of your hips.

“and, it’s not a dream. but even if it were, what makes you think i wouldn’t just find you again after we both wake up?”

vi frowns as she lifts her head, watching as you plate the sausages and eggs, lifting up onto tip toe for the salt and pepper shakers on the shelf. she grins, loosening her arms ever so slightly to let you grab them before she’s pulling you into her again and you’re laughing in her arms.

“ugh. i’m never gonna win with you, huh princess?”

“nope — now help me carry this to the bedroom. i’m gonna pour us some drinks.”

vi watches in muted fascination as you lay out a breakfast tray on your pristine sheets and slot two bubbling glasses of what she’s sure is champagne into the carved out glass holders, and then motions for her to put down the large plate of food. she does, her expression both reverent and amused as you flop down onto the bed and tug the blankets up around your lap, patting the spot next to you.

“c’mon — before it goes cold!”

she slips beneath the covers again, crossing her legs as she watches you reach for your glass, the liquid inside shimmering with pale gold bubbles.

“bon appetit!” you say, grinning at her as you reach for a sausage with your hands. vi’s eyebrows hike up as you bring it to your lips, taking a bite, moaning around it as hot oil slicks down the side of your hand and you lean down to lick it back, the pink flash of your tongue making her stomach twist with an entirely different kind of hunger.

but, she decides, one indulgence at a time — and reaches for a sausage of her own, foregoing the knife and fork just as you had.

it’s delicious, sweet and salty, the fat bursting in her mouth making her shiver as she swallows. she’s never had anything so delicious, anything so truly indulgent. she scarfs down one sausage, and then reaches for another, pausing only to glance up at you. she finds you watching her with a smile and a sparkle in your eyes that looks so dangerously like love it makes her gut clench.

how long has it been since someone’s looked at her like that? like she was beautiful, like she was —

“someone worth looking at?” your words from the night before echos in her ears as she takes the second sausage with a sheepish grin, licking her lips of the oil.

“i can make more if you want,” you say, leaning back and sipping at your drink, “there’s plenty in the fridge, and i’ll make as many as you want.”

vi shakes her head, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, “no, this is —” she reaches for her own glass, gulping down half in a single swig, coughing as the bubbles fizzle up her throat, “this is good —”

by the time she finishes the second sausage, you’re splitting the eggs with a knife and fork, your movement precise, as if she hadn’t just watched you lick sausage fat from your own wrist.

“here, try the eggs. this is the over easy, and this —” you push two piles of eggs towards her, one bleeding yellow yolk over the fine white china, the other a pile of fluffy sun-colored scramble, topped off with flecks of black pepper and large flakes of white seasalt.

vi scoops up one, moaning around the runny yolk, before shoveling a bite of the scrambled egg into her mouth.

“holy shit — i mean, they’re both really good —” she leans down to scrape up some more, licking the fork clean with a happy little hum.

“is there one you like better?” you ask, and vi looks up, a final bite of egg poised halfway to her mouth. she grins as she sets down her fork and pushes the breakfast tray gently out of the way, tugging you towards her.

“yeah well, sure but… ‘s not like i can focus on that when you’re sitting right there looking like breakfast, lunch, and dinner —” she grazes her lips along the length of your neck, nuzzling into the soft spot right behind your ear, breathing you in like a woman lost. and she is — isn’t she? lost in this paradise you’ve built for her, lost in the feeling of you, the irrefutable knowledge that you’re here, and that you’re here to stay.

“y-you seemed pretty focused c-cleaning that plate just a second ago — o-oh —!”

you gasp as she pins you beneath her, your leg knocking against the breakfast tray, her mouth hot along your collarbone.

“v-vi — the china —”

“mm — fuck — fine —” she pulls away from you, keeping you pinned beneath her with her thighs, thick and strong, clamped on either side of your hips as she twists around to set the breakfast tray on the floor before turning back with a smirk. “there. happy now, princess?”

you nod, smiling up at her as she returns to her single-minded task of kissing your throat, sighing against your skin as she tugs your robe from your shoulders and inches her fingers beneath the hem of your nightshirt.

“c’mon princess — didn’t you promise me you were gonna show me all the other things you learned at the brothel, hm?”

you gasp as she tugs your nightshirt up off your torso, leaving you in nothing but your lacy pink panties, your cheeks flushed, your nipples pebbling in the sudden chill.

“mm… never gets old…” vi says, reaching down to tweak at one of them, grinning as you whine.

“vi… vi, please —” you reach out for her, fingers gentle against her tensing stomach as she groans and leans down to kiss you. but before she can, the world flips and she’s hissing out a breath, blinking in confusion as you rock your hips, sitting astride her now, one palm laid flat against her sternum, the other cupping her cheek.

vi stares up at you, her eyes wide but you can see the way her pupils dilate, her gaze going hungry.

you offer her a tiny, knife-flash grin, trailing your thumb along her skin till it grazes her bottom lip.

“there… that’s one trick they taught me… would you like to see some others?”

vi moans, her head rolling back as you rock your hips down over hers again, her hands shooting up to grasp at your waist, her eyes fluttering shut.

“holy fuck, yeah —” she helps ruck your hips down, fingers digging into your flesh as you reach down to gently tug her chin back down, whispering against her lips —

“eyes on me, violet…”

her eyes flicker open, a soft whimper curling up her throat as you shift your hips down and your clothed cores meet through the layers of fabric.

“want you to watch me when i’m making you feel good.”

“sweet jesus…” vi breathes, her brows furrowing ever so slightly as you reach down to inch her shirt up as well, tilting your head slightly as you wait for her to lift her hands. you toss the shirt off the other side of the bed, breathing out as you feast your eyes on the sight of her, splayed out beneath you, a classical artist’s dream of solid muscle and ink-kissed skin.

“you know, they used to carve statues to immortalize bodies like yours…” you say, pressing a line of unhurried kisses to her shoulder, trailing across her collarbones, down the divot of her breasts, pausing over each nipple, laving your tongue over the tiny metal rings there, warming them on your tongue before popping off and making your patient way down the length of her torso. you trace the shape of her stomach muscles with the tip of your tongue, graze your teeth against the delicate skin right above the waistband of her shorts, eyes always cast up at her face, watching for the minute reactions that she’s always been so generous to give.

“eyes, violet,” you remind her gently as you suck a hickey over her hipbone and her entire pelvis jerks up towards you. she huffs out a breath, forcing her eyes open to look down at you, a pout threatening her mouth even as she chews on her bottom lip.

“shit princess — you can’t — i — it feels too good, i —”

“i know,” you shush, holding her gaze as you shift to slip the shorts from her legs, discarding them over your shoulder with a cock of your head like a curious little bird, looking her over with bright eyes.

“but i’ll stop if you look away again, okay?” you chide, grazing a thumb along her already slickened folds, circling her clit once just to see the way her jaw drops open, her eyes rolling back. you pull your hand away and she jerks up, a hand shooting out to grab your arm.

“sweet fuck, mm — c’mere —”

you hitch an eyebrow, watching her as she tugs you towards her, melding her mouth with yours, the self-same desperation you’d tasted earlier blossoming behind the tombstones of her teeth like words she’s never had the courage to say aloud. all her needs, all her wants, pressed there like flowers between the pages of her story, and you — leaning in, opening your mouth, kissing her back like you’d love nothing more than to see them, to read them, to listen, to learn.

you let her kiss you, and you let yourself be kissed. you let her pour herself into you with her fingers in your hair, and your hands soft against her neck, running soothing circles into the pulse beneath her jaw. when she finally pulls back, your lips are wet, her chest is heaving. there’s a strange, fractured light in her eyes as she presses her forehead against yours and breathes out, long and deep.

“you okay?” you ask.

“mm. yeah… i just…” she sucks in another breath, “i — uh — i’m not the best with patience —”

you laugh, “you don’t say.”

she chuckles, allowing herself to be pressed back into the sheets. you shift your legs, hooking one of her over one of yours, shifting till your clothed cunt presses against her bare one. she hisses, her head tipping back. a second later, you roll your hips down, the friction making the coil in your stomach knot over itself, but your eyes are still fixed on vi, on the trembling expression painted across her features.

“violet… c’mon, eyes…” is all you say, your voice patient hush as you slowly work yourself against her.

she lets out a pitched whine, but she forces her eyes back onto you, the gentle curve of your body as you grind your pussy to hers. she bites her lips at the wetness she can feel collecting there — hers and yours, the way you don’t hide your pleasure from her, the little hitches in your breaths, the pink flush of color washing into your cheeks, even as you swirl your hips, your eyes never wavering from her face as her mouth falls open around a moan.

“shit — god, that’s —”

“good?” you ask, leaning over her, your hair a liquid spill across your shoulders.

she nods, her mind too blissed out to really speak as you reach down to tweak at one of her nipples, tugging lightly on the ring, your other hand splayed out on her stomach, keeping you steady.

“y-yeah — really — really fuckin’ good —” she says, nearly keening as you pull back to tug your panties from you, the sight of your wetness gleaming on the lace making her skin prickle with heat. she lets you wrap your hand around one of her wrists, pulling it up towards you, brushing your lips over her knuckles before pressing two of her fingers into your mouth.

you moan around them, even as she bites her lips, her eyes half-hooded, but she heeds your earlier warnings and doesn’t look away, doesn’t let them drop shut even as you pull her fingers from your lips with a soft pop and bring them to where your still slowly grinding against her.

“show me what makes you feel good.”

“n-ngh — fuck fuck fuck —” vi chants, canting her hips up to meet yours, even as you cup one of her hipbones in your palm to steady her, watching as she presses her fingers to her clit and draws them in small, quick circles, her thumb flicking up to graze against yours.

your hips stutter and you let out a gasp, the heat in your abdomen solid and familiar.

“look so good, princess — mm —” a tiny frown creases her forehead as she quickens her pace, but you tug her fingers away, swallowing her momentary whine with a kiss, replacing her fingers with your own. you mirror her movements, relishing in the way she works her hips up against you, her movements threaded with urgency, her tongue pressing into your mouth as you slip your fingers down the seam of her cunt to dip inside her.

immediately, she keens, jerking you down as her hips ruck up.

“mm… we’re making a mess,” you say, your voice almost teasing as you pull back to smile at her, your fingers still teasing her sodden folds, “but that’s okay — i was going to do the laundry today anyway.”

you dip down, sucking gently at the skin of her neck, slowly fucking two fingers into her, feeling her clamp down around you, her head tossing back into the pillows as you sit back up and cluck your tongue, fingers slowing ever so slightly.

she peers up at you, her gaze hazy and unfocused, her lashes fluttering.

“there’s those pretty eyes,” you say with a grin, before pushing a third finger into her and curling them up.

“f-fuck!”

you press your palm against her clit, working your fingers inside her till she’s scrabbling at your arm, pulling you down roughly to mouth at your lips, whimpering and panting, her breath fanning hot as she holds you to her by the back of your neck.

“fuck, sweetness — i’m gonna — i’m gonna cum —”

you allow yourself a soft moan, nodding, quickening your pace as you dig the fingers of your free hand into her hip, a dull ache building between your own thighs as you watch vi’s lashes flutter.

“good,” you breath, “cum for me, vi — lemme see you cum for me —”

“oh — oh fuck — princess, i — a*-ah — ah — ah!*”

you fuck her slowly through her orgasm, kissing her slow and languid, swallowing around her whimpers and moans, her hips kicking as you tease your thumb over her oversensitive clit.

“holy shit…” she laughs, letting her head thump back into the pillows as you pull your fingers from her and lick them clean. “that was —” she licks her lips, swallowing thickly.

“the girls at the brothel taught me well,” you say, giggling when she tugs you into her arms, nosing against your cheek.

“they sure did but —” her fingers trail down the length of your body to cup your cunt, “i wanna make you feel good too, pretty girl.”

your breath hitches; your lashes flicker.

“mm… so damn wet, and all for me…” she says, tugging you over her shoulders, spreading your pussy lips with two fingers, groaning at the sight of your slick folds.

“c-can you blame me?” you ask, gasping as she pulls you down over her mouth, her fingers caged around your thighs. you let out a soft whimper as you feel her lick a long strip over your cunt, her nose nudging your clit as she moans into you. “o*-oh —*” you squeak as her tongue pushes into you, and you feel her rocking you down, pressing you against her so hard you’re afraid she might suffocate.

you steady yourself against the wall, reaching down to card your fingers through her hair, the color still darker than it used to be, the roots still inked in black.

vi’s cocks an eyebrow up at you from between your legs, and you can almost feel her smirk before you feel her wrap her lips around your clit to give it a hard suck. you yelp, hips jumping even as she yanks you back against her, fucking her tongue into you so hard your stomach clenches with the pleasure.

“oh — oh — ngh — violet —”

“th-that’s it, princess — so hot riding my face — mm — mmph —”

you rock your hips over her mouth, the bright tingle of heat circling through you, coiling tighter and tighter as she eats you out with a wolfish hunger, groaning into your folds as your pace goes jerky and the pin-prick of pleasure stretches inside you, ballooning out till you’re clenching over her face, fluttering around her tongue as she licks eagerly at your wetness, pooling out of you onto her chin and cheeks.

“fuck, you taste — taste good —” she mumbles, lips chasing your cunt even as you try to lift yourself up, her arms flexing as she pulls you back down.

“w-wait — vi — it’s too — too much —”

you squeak as she sits up, flipping the pair of you to finally pin you beneath her, a lopsided grin on her face, a dark, dangerous look in her eyes as she wipes her lips on the back of her hand.

“yeah? but, i’m still hungry, princess —” she wastes no time in prying apart your legs, swearing under her breath as she sees your pussy fluttering around nothing, her fingers shoving into you a second later, “and i mean — i haven’t been trained at a brothel but — been to babette’s enough times to know a thing or two —”

her smirk is sharp, even though her eyes are soft as she watches you writhe beneath her, the remnants of her orgasm still warm in her veins. a furious, ticking urge is pressing up the back of her throat as she fucks you open on her fingers, a savage want blooming inside her chest.

she wants to see you fall apart for her, over and over and over again, wants to make you scream till your voice gives out, wants to swallow around all your pretty little noises — she wants, she wants, she wants —

and then, a softer, deeper desire creeping up, up through her ribs to pool at the base of her tongue, slick as poison —

she wants you to do the same to her, just as you’ve already done.

the want is so huge it terrifies her, makes her chest squeeze even as she leans down to kiss you again, reveling in the taste of her own name on your tongue, dripping from the corners of your mouth like a hymn or a prayer.

it’s a want so vast it won’t fit behind her ribs — that she wants you. in every single way it’s possible to want a person.

and, she wants you to want her too.

“fuck, princess —” she grits out, pulling away just far enough to watch the pleasure crease your forehead, “you want it? tell me — tell me what you want —”

you’re breathless, exhalant, your fingers curling in her hair as you jerk up against her.

“w-want — want this — want you — violet — vi — vi —!”

she groans at the way you say her name, letting her head drop into you shoulder for a second before she curls her fingers and fucks them into you so hard she feels her forearms strain.

“yeah? tell me again, pretty girl —” she lifts her head to find your eyes, and for a split second, she sees herself as you might — disheveled and wild-eyed but the softness of her features is unmistakable, the way her lips are parted, her brows furrowed as she watches you.

your eyes find hers, and your breath is trembling when you say, in a voice that’s so much sweeter than the harshness of her movements, than the toe-curling sound of your wetness as it squelches around her hand, your slick dripping down her wrist and onto the sheets.

“i — i want you, violet — a-all of you — please —”

“fuck, cum for me princess — i — i want — i need to see you cum for me — please, god —”

there’s a whine high in her voice even as you spasm around her, the feeling of your cunt milking at her fingers making her shiver. her movements slow as time itself seems to unspool around you both, your bodies so much more than the sums of their parts — so much skin and breath, so much honey and rest.

you laugh, an indulgent, tickling sound, bubbling up from you as you breathe, running your fingers through her hair as she slowly tugs her fingers from you.

“shit… you came a lot,” she says, laughing with you as you nod and reach for a tissue on the bedside table and hand it to her. she wipes at her hands first, and then her face. and then, she leans off the bed to grab the plate with the leftover eggs, shoveling them into her mouth.

you lay there, watching her with a bitten-back smile. she pauses as she catches your eye.

“sorry — oops —” a bit of scrambled egg nearly tumbles out of her mouth. she licks it back and swallows, setting the plate back down to collapse next to you. “just… didn’t wanna waste it, y’know?”

you giggle, curling onto your side and resting a hand on her chest, flicking at one of her nipple rings.

“hey. quit that.”

you grin, shifting your hand down to rest against her stomach. she reaches up to cover your hand with hers, your fingers lacing easily as she turns to face you.

“still hungry?”

vi smiles, shifting closer to you on the sheets, the pair of you lying face to face, bodies curled in towards one another like mirrored images.

“nah. think i’m good now. that was a good breakfast.”

you laugh, walking your fingers along the bend of her waist, pulling yourself forward till you’re nuzzling into her collarbone. she opens her arms and loops them around you.

“yeah? good. so, have we got a verdict on the eggs?”

vi hums, considering.

“i like the scrambled ones. but… i thought you said you were gonna make something else for breakfast tomorrow?”

she hooks an ankle over yours and you shift against her, softening into her chest.

“yeah, ‘m planning on making a few soft boiled ones, and a few poached ones. they’re kind of similar, but also super different.”

“yeah? how so?”

her fingers trace soft circles into the bare skin of your back; yours trail absently over the dark lines of her tattoo, outlining the cogs and wheels and puffs of tinted clouds.

you try your best to explain the differences between a soft boiled egg and a poached egg, and it ends with the pair of you laughing, vi shaking her head even as she edges closer to you, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“i could listen to you talk all day, princess.”

you crinkle your nose, “careful what you wish for.”

“mm,” vi hums, leaning in till your foreheads touch and her eyes flutter shut again, “thanks, though.”

“hm? for what?”

she breathes in, then out.

“for… all this. for breakfast, for…” she lets her voice trail off as her eyes blink open to find you watching her.

“you don’t need to thank me,” you say, inching ever closer, so close now that she can feel the heat of your words over her skin as you speak them, “i meant what i said last night — whatever’s mine is yours and…” you reach up to cup her cheek, “that i want all this because… i want you.”

vi closes her eyes, squeezing them shut as that soft tendril of desire once against pushes up against the back of her throat. she makes a sound caught between a sigh and whine, pulling you into her, wrapping both arms around you and burying her face in your hair.

“gods… you drive me insane.”

you chuckle against her collarbone, blowing an errant strand of pink hair from your mouth.

“if it’ll make you stay with me then…” your voice is slightly muffled, but vi hears it all the same, feels the rumble of it from your chest to hers, the honesty in them shaking her to the core.

she squeezes you once, long and hard, before letting you go.

“careful what you wish for,” she says, echoing your words back at you.

you smile, a simple thing, leaning up to brush your lips to hers. it’s a soft kiss, one that’s devoid of the pulsing, urgent want of your kisses prior, but for some reason, this one lingers like a prickle on the tongue, champagne bubbles as they filter down your throat, fizzling warmth through both your chests even after you pull away.

“didn’t i already tell you?” you say, bumping your nose to hers, “i’ve been praying for this since the day we met.��

vi lets out a small laugh, nodding, “yeah… you did, huh.”

you tangle your fingers in the long hairs skimming down her back.

“you don’t have enforcer stuff you need to report in for?”

vi groans, rolling her eyes, “i mean… i probably do but…”

you shake your head, “give them a call, ask for a few days off.”

vi’s eyebrows hitch at your words, “and… what do i tell them?”

“that you’re taking a few days off — call it a vacation if you want.”

“huh,” but her lips are already tugging into a knowing smirk, “and what do you propose we do on this so-called vacation of mine, hm?”

you shrug, giggling as she leans down to nip at your collarbones.

“mmm… how does staying here, sleeping in, and eating through my favorite recipes sound?”

vi pulls back, her expression flickering through several channels before settling on a mix of cautious and hopeful.

“are… you sure? you — you don’t have like… famous-person stuff you have to do?”

you laugh, “nope! not for a week at least. and… i’ve got a few really good bottles of wine in the cellar i’ve been meaning to try.”

“the cellar?”

you grin, “go make the call.”

vi pushes herself up, carding a hand through her hair and rubbing at her temples. but she glances back at you, her fingers still linked with yours. you glance down at your hands before giving her a squeeze.

“go on, i’ll still be here when you get back. i promise.”

vi leans back down to press a kiss to your cheek.

“promise?” she asks.

you nod, leaning up to kiss her properly, pulling away only when she tries to push you back into the mattress. you shoot her an exasperated look as she tugs on a shirt and nearly trips over the breakfast tray, glancing back at you from the bedroom door.

“go. i’ll be here,” you say again. and vi gives you one last lingering look before slipping through the door, leaving it swinging behind her.

a few seconds later, you hear her voice as she says —

“uh hey, it’s me. can you connect me to the warden?”

taglist: @traiitorjoe @rizzscary @wetcat020 @alex-thegiraffeboyy @nanasemo @saturnhas82moons @unear7hly @drsnowrose @grantaires-waistcoat @isab3lita @ally-all-around @starrysetup22 - join the taglist!

[classyrbf]

CALL HIM DADDY! — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS...when you jokingly call the jjk men ‘daddy’ just to see how they’d react

INFO...jjk men (toji, nanami, geto, gojo) x fem!reader, suggestive, fluff, crack fic kinda, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

TOJI

You were washing the dishes, finally scrubbing the last plate as Toji at his snack on the couch. You turned the faucet off, shaking the excess water into the sink before you turned to Toji, a smirk forming on your face. The entire time you were washing dishes, you remember seeing a video where a girl pranked her boyfriend by calling him ‘daddy’ in the most casual way possible.

You cleared your throat, leaning against the sink. “Hey, daddy, can you pass a napkin to dry my hands?” You stared at him, waiting to see his reaction.

“Yeah, of course, ba—wait what the hell did you just say?” His brows pinched together as he stood from his spot on the couch. He slowly walked over to you, placing his snack on the countertop.

“I asked if you could pass me a napkin,” you repeat.

“Nah, nah,” he shook his head, “you said something else before that.” He narrowed his eyes at you, slowly closing the gap between the two of you.

It was getting hard to keep a poker face, finding it difficult to stare into his eyes. “What are you talking about, Toji?” You sighed. “You’re hearing things, old man,” you scoffed, turning away from him with a smirk on your face.

“Oh, so now I’m old man, huh? Not daddy? Hm? Hm?” He grabbed at your waist, pulling you closer to him to the point you couldn’t hold back your laughter.

“It was a prank!” You laughed, tears in your eyes.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, woman. I swear.” He pecked your lips, smiling at you. “Though, I think we should try that in the bedroom.”

“Toji Fushiguro!” You yell as he lifts you over his shoulder and carries you to the room.

GOJO

You and Gojo were so casually getting ready to watch a movie before he asked if you wanted any snacks from the kitchen. “Yes, please, some chips and soda.” You gave him a tender smile. A few minutes went by as he came back with a bunch of snacks you didn’t even ask for, but you knew they were most likely for him.

“Your chips and soda.” He placed the bowl in your lap and the cup in your hand. “Want any candy?” He asked, pointing to the sour strips he was munching on.

“I’m okay, thank you, daddy,” You causally said before placing a chip in your mouth.

His eyes shot up in surprise before he began choking on the sour strip. “O-oh, my god.” He began coughing, hunching over.

“Satoru, are you okay?” You rubbed his back before he turned to look at your with the most shocked expression you’ve ever seen on him.

“Am I okay? Baby, you literally just called me daddy! Damn near lost my life!” His voice was still rough from all the coughing.

“What?” You asked, pretending to be confused.

“You….just…called…me…daddy.” He leaned closer towards you with each word spoken.

“Toru, I love you, but never in a million years would I call you that. Play the movie.” You shake your head in disbelief, looking towards the the tv.

“Say it again.” Toru grabbed at your hands, holding them to his chest. “Say it again, please!” He begged while you ignored him, continuing to eat your chips. “You think I’m daddy? Am I? Come on, baby. I can be so daddy!”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter at how serious he was taking the whole situation. Your eyes landed upon his expression, an offended look in his eye. “I’m sorry, Toru!” You cackled.

“You’re not funny,” he mumbled, turning away from you, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Awe, baby,” you coo, cupping his face and kissing his cheek, “you’re so daddy, okay?”

He huffs, rolling his eyes. “Promise?”

“Yes,” you giggle, “promise.”

NANAMI

You were getting ready for bed as Nanami read his book in the living room with the light dimmed. He had his reading glasses on, so focused on the words on the page before you walked over to him. “Going to bed?” He looked up from his book.

“Yeah,” you yawned, nodding your head.

“Well, alright. Goodnight, I love you.” He returns your kiss when you lean down to peck his lips.

“I love you too, daddy.” You smile, walking towards the bedroom. He goes back to reading his book, adjusting his glasses as he reads the next few lines on the page. Suddenly, he places the book on his lap and looks around the room. Nanami quickly gets up and follows you to the room, seeing that you’re already under the blankets.

“Honey?” He whispers.

“Yes, Kento?” You open your eyes to find him standing in the doorway.

“What did you say in the living room a few seconds ago?” He clears his throat, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I love you?” You say, raising a brow.

“Yeah, that’s what, uh, I thought.” He bites the inside of his cheek, adjusting his glasses once more. “You sure that was all?” He furrows his brows.

“Yes, Kento, I’m sure.” You let out a tired sigh before turning over in the bed, pulling the covers over your face. “Goodnight, daddy.” You cover your mouth with your hand in attempts to hide your laughter.

You feel the bed sink beneath you, his hand coming up to pull the blanket from your face. “I don’t mind you calling me daddy, but please, don’t try and hide it. If you’d like to try something new just let me—”

“Ken, baby, it was a prank!” You sit up in bed, laughing. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” You hug him, kissing his cheek. “You thought I was being serious?”

“Well…yeah.” He blinks, cheeks flushed a light pink. “I…kinda like it,” he admits.

“Oh!” You say, slightly shocked. “I’ll keep that noted.”

GETO

You were getting ready to leave to the mall, grabbing your keys and slipping your shoes on at the front door. Geto walked over to say goodbye, grabbing at your hand. You kissed him quickly before saying, “bye, daddy.” You tried to rush out the door.

“Bye, mommy.” You quickly turned your head with a look of shock. Geto returned your expression, still holding your hand. “What?”

“What’d you just call me?” You shut the door, locking it.

“I didn’t say a word.” He shook his head at you. “You’re the one who said something.”

“No, no, don’t turn this around on me, Suguru Geto!” Your jaw dropped.

“You’re the one who called me daddy!” He retorted.

“Not even!” You quickly snap back.

“Yes, huh! Mommy!” He yelled, laughing at you.

“Not, uh! Daddy!” You shouted back at him before both you began laughing with each other. “You’re no fun, I was trying to prank you.” You pout.

“Can’t prank me, love.” He kissed the top of your head, slightly chuckling. “Have fun at the mall, m’kay?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I love you.”

“I love you too, mommy!” He joking says as you shut the door his face.

[flowersforbucky]

it's nice to have a friend

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3.2k

summary: you're having the worst period you've had in a long time. bucky is determined to help you feel better.

author's note: this is a silly and smutty piece that i felt compelled to write when i got my period a few days ago!

warnings/tags: smutty, reader has a period, langauge, use of a vibrator, nipple stimulation, no use of y/n, use of a cbd gummy lol, 18+ only

Approximately every twenty-eight days, you curse the fact that you were born with a uterus and vagina. 

This month, however, you were cursing that fact a bit earlier than expected. Cycle day twenty three, to be exact. 

Your periods never start this early, but as soon as you opened your eyes at six o'clock this morning, you knew what had occured while you were asleep. You could feel the moisture that soaked through your underwear and pajama pants before you could turn on the light to see that your white sheets had been dyed bright crimson beneath where you'd been laying. 

One load of laundry with extra stain remover and as much Pamprin max strength as one can safely take later, you are curled up on the couch of the compound's living room with a cup of coffee and a heating pad turned up so high that you risk first degree burns. 

“Are you sure you don't want me to stay with you today? We can go to Coney Island another time,” Natasha tries to reason with you once again. 

“I promise I'll be okay here,” you assure her. “These cramps are killing me, I won't be any fun to hang out with today. Go, enjoy yourself. When is the next time that you'll all have a free day and weather this perfect?” You gesture towards the sunshine streaming through the living room windows. 

“If you're sure,” she caves after a few moments of hesitation. “Promise I’ll win you that stuffed panda that you wanted so badly last time.” 

“I am going to hold you to that,” you tell her in a faux-serious tone. 

After Natasha and the rest of your friends have left for their day of riding rollercoasters and eating hotdogs on the boardwalk, you turn on your comfort show and settle in for an unexciting and uncomfortable day by yourself. 

A few hours later, you decide you've sat in the same position for long enough - you can practically feel your body morphing to the sofa. You're walking to the kitchen to refill your water bottle and find something to snack on when you collide with what feels like a brick wall. 

A brick wall that happens to smell really, really fucking good. 

You step back, finding that the brick wall is staring at you with a confused look on his face. 

"What are you doing here?” Bucky asks as he glances you over from head to toe, taking in your choice of apparel - baggy sweats that are about two sizes too big for you, a cropped tank, and fuzzy slippers. You resist the urge to cross your arms over your stomach - you didn't think anyone else would be here today and the tank top you're wearing doesn't exactly conceal the period bloat you're currently experiencing. 

"I live here,” you snap, a bit harsher than necessary. “What are you doing here?” 

“I also live here,” he says, returning your attitude. You roll your eyes, maneuvering your way around where he blocks the doorway. 

“What I mean,” he continues as he turns around, following you into the kitchen. “Is why aren't you with everyone at Coney Island?” 

“I could ask you the same question,” you challenge, pouring some more ice into your cup. “Steve never shuts up about the glory days, all the time the two of you spent at Coney Island. I'm surprised you're not there with him right now.” 

He huffs a laugh, pulling out one of the barstools at the kitchen's giant island and taking a seat. “We did spend a ridiculous amount of time at Coney Island,” he admits, his voice almost wistful. He hesitates before continuing, staring down at his hands as he traces a metal crevice on his left palm.

"But I haven't been to Coney Island since the forties. Guess I'm kinda scared it won't live up to my memories of it. Plus, I had a lot of laundry to catch up on, so..” he shrugs, trailing off. 

You're taken aback by the honesty of his explanation. “Yeah, well,” you start awkwardly, turning away from him to search through a cabinet for something to eat. “I can't say that I know what it was like in the forties, but it's one of my favorite places, present day.” 

“Then why are you hanging out by yourself while all of your friends are at one of your favorite places?” 

Damn it, you curse internally. He's really not going to drop this. What should I say, that my uterine lining is falling out in clumps? 

You grab a bag of freeze-dried fruit from the cabinet before turning back to face him, trying to come up with an excuse. 

“I just didn't sleep great–” you come to an abrupt stop in the middle of your sentence as a blinding pain shoots through your lower abdomen. The bag of fruit falls to the floor as you steady yourself on the ledge of the counter with one hand, clutching your stomach with the other. 

Bucky rises from his seat in an instant, closing the several feet of distance between the two of you in one big step. 

"Are you okay? What’s going on?” His hands are both extended to you in an offer of help. 

“I'm fine,” you say through a sharp intake of breath. “It’s.. it’s just cramps. Bad cramps,” you force the words out, propping your elbows up on the countertop to relax your body weight. 

“Oh,” he says as realization dawns on him. He bends down to grab the bag of fruit that lays next to your feet, and then places it on the table in front of you. “I guess that answers my question, then,” he adds, referring to why you didn't go to Coney Island. 

“Ya think?” You stand back upright, grabbing your snack and water bottle off of the counter. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a busy day of bed-rotting ahead of me.” 

“Some exercise would help,” he calls when you're about to exit the kitchen. “Laying in bed won't do much for you. A little bit of light exercise to release some beta-endorphins, maybe an abdominal massage–” 

“Are you really man-splaining menstrual cycle pain management to me right now?” You ask, slowly turning to face him with an incredulous look on your face. “I wasn't aware that you had a medical license or that I asked for your opinion.” 

“Just trying to help, sweetheart,” he shrugs with a mischievous grin. 

“If you want to help, you can go get the Italian food that I'm craving and give me an abdominal massage yourself,” you practically spit at him. “Otherwise, keep the unsolicited advice to yourself and fuck off.” 

You turn back around and all but run out of the room before you can process the shocked, albeit pleased look on his face.  

After you've closed your bedroom door behind you (with perhaps a bit more force than necessary), you sink into the fresh sheets on your bed and shove several pieces of apricot into your mouth. 

Rationally, you knew that Bucky's advice was solid, and that he was just trying to get a reaction out of you. That's just the kind of friendship that the two of you have. Sarcastic, teasing and occasionally… tension-filled. 

You definitely didn't help the matter by telling him to massage your abdomen, but what does he expect when he suggests something as horrible as exercising during a time that you simply want nothing more than to melt into your mattress? 

Your cell phone chimes from the pocket of your sweatpants. You dig it out and look at the text displayed across your lock screen. 

Bucky Barnes: What kind of Italian food, specifically? 

You would never admit it to him, but the corners of your mouth tug upwards into a smirk as you read his message. 

You type: Don't you have a lot of laundry to catch up on? and press send. The message is marked as “read” right away. 

He types. And types. And types some more – until those three dots indicating a message in progress disappear. 

Whatever. You click your phone off and toss it somewhere in the covers around you. 

The next couple hours are spent sitting under the near scalding stream of your shower, and then reading on your Kindle in the dark. As jealous as you are that your friends are undoubtedly having a blast today, you honestly don't mind your current situation - aside from feeling like your organs are being pulled out of your vagina, you hardly ever have days with zero obligations other than to just relax in whatever way you see fit. 

A strong knock on your door causes you to lose your place on the page. 

"You didn't give me a legitimate answer so I hope you like gnocchi, or eggplant parmesan, or traditional lasagna, or extra breadsticks..” 

“You know, it's not funny to joke about carbs to someone when they are–” 

You come to a stop in the middle of your sentence when you swing your door open to see him holding several plastic bags. An aroma of garlic and herbs hits you in the face. 

Oh. Not a joke, then. 

He extends one of the bags to you with his big, blue puppy dog eyes. You take it from him, opening the door further as an invitation to enter your bedroom. 

"Consider this a peace offering,” he says, placing the other bags of food on your bed and perching awkwardly on the edge of your mattress. You close the door behind you, walking back to where you had previously been lounging on the bed. 

“I'm sorry for being a smartass,” he adds more genuinely. “I just.. didn't like seeing you in pain. That's all.” 

“This is far from my first period,” you shrug, not meeting his stare. “You get used to it after a while. But consider yourself forgiven.” 

He gives you a small smile when you finally look up at him. He grabs a smaller bag that you hadn't noticed him carrying, one that is visibly less full than the others. He reaches inside, pulling out a small jar that he hands over to you. 

Your brows furrow as you inspect it closely. “CBD gummies?” You ask, your brows now raising quizzically. You open the jar, popping one of the pink, cube-shaped gummies into your mouth. “Watermelon flavored CBD gummies?” 

You notice the faintest trace of blush bloom across his cheeks. “I take them sometimes to help me sleep,” he starts, fiddling with some of the beading on your comforter. “But they can help with all different kinds of pain too, so I just thought you might like some.” 

You close the jar, placing it on your bedside table before reaching over and grabbing his flesh hand in yours. “Thank you, Bucky,” you say, giving his hand a squeeze and then releasing it. “Really. I appreciate all of this.” You try to ignore the jolt of electricity that buzzes through you when your skin comes in contact with his. His hand is both softer and warmer than you would have imagined. It brings you back to the last words that you spewed at him in the kitchen earlier. 

"A shit ton of pasta and CBD gummies,” you snort a laugh. “Would I be pushing my luck if I asked for that abdominal massage too?” You say it in a way that sounds halfway serious, halfway joking. 

“If that's what you want,” he says lowly, turning to angle his body towards you on the bed. “Then just say the word.” 

The air in your room suddenly feels suffocating. 

It is what you want - but you're at a loss for words. So instead of a verbal response, you scoot over to the middle of the bed, closer to where he sits on the opposite side. You lay down so that your back is flat against the mattress, your head propped up by a single pillow. 

Bucky's eyes widen in surprise, but he quickly wipes the look of astonishment from his features. He moves so that he's sitting directly next to your legs, giving him a proper angle to put his hands on your lower stomach. 

You're wearing the same sweatpants and tank top from earlier, having thrown the outfit back on after your shower. The loose sweatpants hang low enough to expose your hip bones and the edge of your underwear. 

The intimacy of the entire situation hits you the second that his hands make contact with your skin. 

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmurs, perhaps sensing your nerves. “Or if I do anything that doesn't feel good.” 

Your eyes shut instinctively at the polar opposite sensations of his flesh and vibranium hands. Skin and metal, fire and ice.

“I will,” you assure him. Your words come out breathier than intended. 

There's an immediate relief in your lower stomach as he rubs languid circles across your midriff. It's a feeling beyond pleasure as the cramps fade the more he touches you. 

His vibranium pinky dances along the waistband of your underwear, causing goosebumps to spread across your skin. You try to focus on the relief he's bringing you - not the fact that you're wearing a thin tank top that leaves so much of your skin on display, giving him a clear view of the goosebumps that he's caused. 

He continues with the precise motions until the pain in your abdomen has faded nearly entirely - you feel so good that you can't stop yourself from letting out the smallest moan when his flesh hand applies just the right amount of pressure near your pelvis. 

You know he heard it - there's no way he didn't. Just as you know there's no way that he doesn't notice your fully hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your tank top. 

You keep your eyes closed, terrified to meet his gaze in this state. You dread the moment that you feel his hands pull away from your skin. 

"You know,” he starts, his voice possessing a strained edge. “I don't think this is good enough for you.” 

Your eyes shoot open, looking at him in a nervous confusion. There's a glimmer in his eyes that you can't quite pinpoint - his stare trailing to your bedside table on the opposite side of you. “But I think I do know what could make you feel much better.” 

“What are you talking about?” Your voice quivers as you follow his stare. You're not sure what he's looking at - all that sits on your nightstand is the CBD gummies he had just given you, your Kindle, a few books, a bottle of lotion, and the Himalayan salt lamp that paints you both in an orange glow. 

He smirks before leaning across you - keeping his vibranium hand pressed firmly on your belly as he uses his flesh hand to pull open the drawer of the small table. 

“Hey! What are you–” but he retrieves the object he’s looking for before you can finish questioning him. You freeze at what he's holding in his hand. 

Your vibrator. Your glittery, lavender colored vibrator. 

“How the fuck did you–” 

“Do you think I can't hear you using this from across the hallway late at night?” He grins smugly. “That I can't hear your little whimpers when you think everyone's asleep?” 

Your face heats up a hundred degrees. You don't know whether to be infuriated or massively turned on. 

Both. You're definitely feeling a mix of both. 

He clicks the power button, turning on the device to its lowest setting. He watches you for a moment, giving you ample time to tell him to fuck off.

Instead, you once again relax against the pillow, your body going limp for him. You spread your legs the slightest bit. 

He takes this as his signal to proceed. Not taking his eyes off of your face, he trails the head of the wand from your lower stomach and over the fabric of your sweatpants until he reaches the apex of your thighs. Your nipples pucker once again, your thighs clenching around the tip of the vibrator. 

Bucky moves the device in a circular motion, making your back arch off the bed and your head tip back. 

How is it that it feels better when he massages you with it through your fucking pants than it does when you use it on your bare pussy? 

You hear the clicking of a button again, and the force of the vibration over your clothed cunt increases. You grind down on the device, desperate for friction. 

Bucky watches you with something akin to pride on his face. 

“You know how I told you to tell me if I do something you don't like?” He asks as he pushes the head of the wand directly down on your clit with the perfect amount of pressure. 

“Yeah,” you answer - it comes out like a moan that you'd hear in a porno.

“Good girl,” he praises. “Remember that.” 

Before you can clear your head enough to wonder what he means, he's tugging up the cotton fabric of your tank top and exposing your breasts. 

You gasp at the sensation of the cool air blowing from the AC coming in contact with your already hard nipples. Bucky leans forward, keeping the vibrator on your core, and captures one of your nipples in his mouth. 

Your hand immediately goes to his hair, tugging the soft brown locks in your fingers to keep him in place. His free hand grasps your other breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. 

The combination of pleasure radiating from your pussy and his hand and mouth on you is fucking perfect. Fucking perfect, and all too much. 

You clench your thighs together, riding against the vibrator until you feel warmth spreading through your lower belly. 

“Oh my god, Bucky,” you moan - he groans when you say his name, the vibration sending you tumbling over the edge. You come hard, possibly harder than any other orgasm you've had in your life, thoroughly soaking your panties. 

When you've finished writhing beneath him, Bucky pulls back, removing both his mouth and the vibrator. He clicks the device off, tossing it towards the foot of your bed. 

You're panting, staring up at the ceiling, trying to process what the fuck just happened when you hear Bucky let out a low chuckle. 

Your eyes snap to him, finding that he looks thoroughly pleased with himself. 

"Can't say that's how I expected the day to go when I decided to sit this Coney Island trip out,” he sighs. 

“You can say that again.” You sit upright, bending your legs and crossing them at the ankles. You lean forward, tugging your shirt back into place before pulling one of the bags of food to you. 

"We should go sometime soon. Together,” you add, somewhat nervously. You aren't sure why - the guy just gave you the best orgasm of your life (and barely even touched you). 

“Are you asking me on a date?” that sly smile reappears. 

You shrug. “Yeah, I suppose I am.” 

"Then my answer is yes. But only if you share some of this food with me.” 

♡♡♡♡♡

my masterlist

thanks so much for reading!!! can anyone tell that i really fucking love food by how often i incorporate it into my writing? 😅

[simonsrileyhusband]

smaller reader topping and pegging ghost <3

nsfw. reader doesnt have a dick.

simon sighs, looking at you smiling at him.

"no."

"come on! just once, it would feel good i promise." you beg him.

"lovei, i dont think im made for that."

"you dont know that."

"fine, fine. we'll try it once, and if i dont like it you pull away and ill fuck you senseless, got it?" you smile widely, kissing his cheek.

"got it!"

a few weeks went by and finally it arrived, the black harness you ordered. you smiled when you picked up the box and rushed into the kitchen where simon was finishing the dishes.

"what was it?" he asks, mindlessly putting the last washed plate on its place. "oh fuck..." he whispers once he turns around and sees the box with the logo of the brand you and him choose. "already?"

you nod and grab his hand, leading him to the bedroom, it was a long week, filled with preping, cleaning and reaserching.

simons body hits the soft bed when you push him into it. you can see doubt on his eyes, you know what he is thinking, he wont like it and he would end up foing what he wants, oh how wrong he was.

you sit on his lap, his big hands going to your hips like always, you kiss, rub, bite, squeeze and lick how he does, or at least you try.

"is that the best ya' got darling?" he teases, your hands wonder down, pulling up his shirt and his sweatpants down, along with his boxers. his thick cock stands proudly infront of you, aching for your touch.

"needy, huh?"

"fuck you"

"oh i will, dont worry"

you take your time to tease him, making sure he gets needy. your hand slowly jerking him off, your lips leaving soft kisses on his tip, never puttinf his dick inside your mouth.

"fuck, please, it hurts, love." he moans and whines, his back arching to try and feel just a bit more.

"what do you want?" a soft lick along his lenght makes him shiver.

"fuck me, please, i dont care... fuck me" his whole face is red, his big hands ties to the headboard. you smirk and stand up, putting the strap on, taking your time, watching him grow desperate.

after a few deep kisses, stroking his dick, pushing his legs up and whispering reassuring pet names on his hear you were inside of him, all of it, 5 inches deep inside of him. simons eyes roll back, teary, heavy breath.

"shh, shh, i know, i know, you are doing amazing."

"fuck" he whines, closing his eyes. you hum and kiss his cheeks and jaw until you feel him move, his hips rolling and buckling.

so you start trusting softly, pulling away just a few inches and then shoving it inside slowly. your hands are resting on the back of his thighs, pushing them against his chest the best you can.

it doesnt take long for him to grow hungry, begging for more. your trusts are faster and deeper, his moans higher and his rambles more incoherent.

"fuck, please~"

"please what? am i going too fast? should i stop?"

"no! no, please no. shit, darling, please touch me. i need it." he whines, his eyes teary, his forehead a bit sweaty.

"since you asked so nicely." you mumble as you grab his cock, moving your hand up and down quickly, teasing his tip and squeezing in the best way.

"fuck! love, i-..." he shuts his eyes, he shoots all over his chest, you stop trusting and gently let his legs fall into the bed.

"how was it?" you whisper as you lean in, simons breath his heavy, his chest moving up and down roughly, he doesnt answer, he just groans.

with a gentle movement you pull out, making him whine. "im sorry, sorry love."

"ill go grab a towel and some water, okay? we can cuddle after." he nods, rolling over and hugging a pillow, panting and red, you smirk knowing that this wont be the last time the both of you will do this.

[madewithsilk]

AHHHH you should do stalker!ellie to oblivious reader and reader walks around their apartment/house with veeeeeery little clothes on and ellie is watching them from the window… you can add more but make it 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂

ꜱᴛᴀʟᴋᴇʀ ᴇʟʟɪᴇ ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍꜱ x ꜰᴇᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

— ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; ᴇʟʟɪᴇ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇᴅ ꜱʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟᴛʜʏ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇ ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ ᴜᴘ ɪɴ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴡɪɴᴅᴏᴡ ᴏʀ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴅɢᴇ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴇᴅ, ʏᴇᴛ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴀ ꜱʜᴏᴡᴇʀ, ꜱʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ʜᴇʟᴘ ʜᴇʀꜱᴇʟꜰ!

— ᴄᴡ; ᴅᴜʙ/ɴᴏɴ ᴄᴏɴ, ɪɴꜰᴀᴛᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴛᴇɴɪɴɢ, ᴘʀᴀɪꜱɪɴɢ

It was Friday. Clueless and oblivious as you pranced around your kitchen gleefully at the thought of the weekend. Unbeknownst that Ellie was peeking at you through the window infront of your stove.

You were heating milk on it, turned around and unaware of how she lurked and lingered in every corner during every moment.

Every time Ellie thought she couldn't find a new low, she did just that. It used to be "just" following you home. Then "just" ensuring your safety as you slept.

Then she'd come inside while ensuring so said safety.. grabbing your panties, stuffing them in her pockets. She couldn't use them right before your blissfully shut eyes and strip you of your last threads of dignity!

Soon enough, it became routinely. Watching you, as if she would pounce at any moment. She'd justify her sickness with half-assed excuses of protection and carnal desires. It was days like these, where you swayed your hips and ass unknowingly, that made it all worth it.

She groans every time you bend down to grab something, stifling her moans with a hand on her mouth. Her eyebrows begin to knit together, a harmony of breaths and pants spilling out of her mouth. She couldn't just stay outside anymore.

She watched you take the pot off the stove and start walking in the direction of your bathroom. She knew you were going to shower, peel the remaining fabrics off your frame, ignorantly expose yourself to her. Yet this time, she didn't want to watch from outside.

Her hands maneuvered against the back door's lock, trying her hardest to make as little noise as possible. She's done it before, every night, but shed hardly ever invade to watch you shower.

She found herself cautiously stepping closer to the bathroom, hearing the sound of clothes shuffling and water pressure. There was a crack in the door, she peeped and saw your bra straps falling off your shoulder, panties gone and cunt exposed.

Her thighs were harshly pressed together, gathering friction against eachother. The steam was starting to fill the small space, fogging Ellie's vision of you. Her footsteps became louder, and you didn't have time to fight back when you noticed her wide eyes besides you.

Her arms snaked around your body, her hand clasping your mouth shut and her other arm holding you still with a painful grip. Your yelp was muffled by her palm, eyes like a deer confronted with headlights, tears welling at your waterline.

Your legs kicked, knees buckling as she shouted into your ear. "Shut up—" You whimpered, struggling to find an even breathing pattern and not pass out. "Be quiet." She whispered this time opposed to the yelling. Her hand slowly and naively drops from your lips, a blood curling scream spilling from them.

She slaps her palm across your mouth once again, hard enough to cause bleeding. "I won't hesitate to hurt you even if I don't want to." She spoke through gritted teeth. "We don't want anybody to hear, right?" Her voice was sickeningly sweet, a coo that tried to persuade you into compliance.

You shake your head, naked body going limp and unsteady against her fully clothed one. Her hand that secures your waist dipped between your thighs, practically whining into your ear. "Fuuckk," She mumbled against your shoulduer. "Been trying so hard to wait, to restrain myself, I swear I have." She was nearly trying to convince herself as she spoke to you.

"I promise, jus' can't, can't resist this shit anymore," She huffed out, her knee slipping inbeteeen your legs. Your back was pressed flush against her chest, tears streaming onto her hand.

You nod frantically, self preservation kicking in when you realized you wouldn't be able to escape. "Will you be quiet if I move my hand?" Her voice cracked in desperation. You nod, hands clawing at her arms. "Promise?" Your head was thrown back against Ellie's shoulder, just nodding, begging to be released atleast verbally. Hesitantly, she let your face go.

You didn't yell, didn't speak, hardly made any noise. Ellie seemed pleased, her fingers exploring your folds with anticipation. "Please don't hurt me," Your head turned, eyebrows wrinkled, nose scrunched up, all as you whispered in distress. "Do what you want— jus' please be nice-" Ellie shook her head, shushing you softly.

"Sweet girl, wouldn't hurt you," Her eyes are shut, nuzzling against the gap between your neck and shoulders. One of her fingers went into your sopping hole, begging to be filled. Her knee kept pressing to make friction, every sense of yours overwhelmed. The scent of sex and steam, thousands upon thousands of physical feelings, squelching noises and Ellie's ironically soft voice, the taste of fear and dryness, touched upon with a blurry vision.

She begins to pump two digits inside of you, one of her hands circling your throat and cutting off your airway. "Been watching you for so long," She curls her fingers inside, pace relentless, needing to make you cum. "You understand right?" She panted out, not stopping any movements even after your hands maul at her arm, pleading for air.

"Fuck, say you understand, please, say it." She sounded sterner, rocking her hips against yours. "I– I understand-" Her words fell out broken and crumbled up, tightness knotting in her chest along with a different knot in her tummy.

Your orgasm suddenly crashed onto you, your body writhing and eyes clenched shut. The moment Ellie realized, her hand on your neck loosened, watching you heavily gasp for air. Your muscles contracted, torn between forced to cum yet your body shaking in pleasure.

Her body stepped away from yours, watching you crash into the floor when your knees gave out on you. She kneeled with you, keeping you from banging your head against anything. "Hey, look at me," She heaved, cupping your face in her hands. You hummed, too worn out to fight back even if she did try anything. "You're not going to tell anybody about this." Her tone was firm and legit, eyes staring at you in stiffness. "You heard me?" She firmly taps your face when you didn't respond and disassociated.

Your head obliviously nods, falling back into her chest without much option.

[littlesoulshine]

05

parings: married!deanwinchester x married!reader (+ sam)

synopsis: cooking

the kitchen was already a disaster. flour dusted the countertops like a crime scene outline, and a bottle of olive oil had tipped over, creating a slick, shimmering puddle on the wooden surface. the smell of garlic and onions filled the air, mingling with the sharp tang of burnt something—probably whatever dean had been in charge of.

"i told you, babe, this is why takeout exists," dean grumbled, flicking a piece of raw chicken at you. it hit your arm with a cold, wet slap.

"jesus, dean!" you yelped, shoving him in the chest. he barely budged, just grinning like an idiot, dimples and all.

"you two are impossible," sam muttered, rolling his eyes as he expertly diced an onion. his knife skills were alarmingly precise, which only made dean more suspicious.

"yeah, okay, gordon ramsey, we get it, you know how to cut shit. but can you do this?" dean attempted to twirl a knife between his fingers, only for it to slip and clatter onto the floor. you sighed. sam sighed louder.

"real smooth," you muttered, picking up the knife before dean could impale himself. "if we actually wanna eat tonight, maybe we should focus."

"focus is for nerds," dean declared, leaning over to steal a sip from your beer. you smacked his hand away.

"you have your own, dumbass."

"yeah, but yours always tastes better. kinda like how you always steal my fries."

sam ignored the both of you, setting the chopped onions into a sizzling pan. the butter hissed, and for a moment, it actually smelled promising. that moment passed quickly.

dean, having been left in charge of seasoning the chicken, had apparently gone feral with the spice rack. the second the pieces hit the heat, an acrid, eye-watering cloud of burnt paprika and chili powder filled the room.

"oh, hell no," you coughed, waving a hand in front of your face. "dean, what did you put in there?"

"i dunno, some of that red shit," he answered, barely concerned, peering into the pan as if offended that his creation wasn’t behaving properly. "it looked right."

"you just threw in spices like you were summoning a demon, didn’t you?" sam accused.

"hey, if i was summoning anything, it’d be a pizza delivery guy, ‘cause this ain’t workin’." dean grabbed the pan handle, but immediately hissed and dropped it back onto the stove. "son of a—who the hell made this pan lava-proof?"

"it's called heat, dumbass," you snorted, but the joke was cut short when the smoke alarm started blaring.

"aw, come on!" dean groaned, grabbing a towel to fan the smoke away. "we got this under control!"

"do we?" sam asked dryly, as you rushed to open a window. the sound was piercing, and it was only a matter of time before someone (probably a very annoyed neighbor) complained.

"alright, screw this," you said, tossing the ruined pan into the sink with a dramatic clatter. "i'm calling it—pizza and beer."

"now we're talkin’," dean grinned, already reaching for his phone. "see, this is why i married you. you get me."

"yeah, yeah, just order before i change my mind and make you eat the chicken."

sam just shook his head, stepping around the mess as if it personally offended him. "i swear, cooking with you two is like watching a disaster movie in slow motion."

"yeah, but we make it look good, right?" dean winked at you, still smug despite the failure.

"you know what else looks good?" dean leaned in, voice dropping into a husky murmur. "you, bent over this counter, covered in flour, with me showing you how to properly handle raw meat."

"oh my god," sam groaned, throwing down the spatula. "can we go ten minutes without you turning everything into a porno?"

"hey, i'm just saying, cooking’s a very sensual activity. lotta kneading, lotta poundin—"

"i will stab you," you deadpanned, brandishing a fork. "not in the fun way."

sam rubbed his temples like he was reconsidering every life choice that led him here. "i don't get paid enough for this."

"you don't get paid at all," dean shot back. "you just hang around, all tall and judgy, pretending you don’t enjoy our company."

"it's not pretending if it's true," sam muttered.

"see, babe?" dean turned back to you, grinning. "this is why you gotta appreciate me more. i'm the fun brother."

"you're something, alright," you muttered, shaking your head.

finally, after much more unnecessary bickering, the pizza arrived. beers were popped open, and the three of you collapsed onto the couch, the kitchen a war zone of spices, flour, and regret.

"y'know," dean said around a mouthful of pizza, "we should do this again sometime."

"we absolutely should not," sam and you answered in perfect unison.

and that, of course, just made dean laugh harder.

taglist: @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @legalmente-loca @bluemerakis @whisperingdaze @cherrygirlfriend @figthoughts @sunsbaby @ambiguous-avery @sunnyteume

[i-cant-sing]

Yandere Batfam x reader who cant feel pain

HEhehehe i just remembered a disease and I just had to write about a reader with it x yandere batfam.

Have you guys heard of CIPA? Its "Congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis" which is basically a genetic condition when a patient cant feel pain to any noxious stimulus and can also not sweat, and yall are probably like "but SNoWWW, that doesnt like a diSEase. More like a superpower!!!" um no. You need to be able to feel pain or else you wont know what part of your body has been injured and get help before its too late. You could have thumbtack plunged in your foot and u wouldnt know unless it got infected and u probably saw ur foot changing color.

And now yall are like "but SNoWw, the anhidrosis part, where u cant sweat, sounds nice! who would to look like a sweaty pig in this age????" NO! Sweating is a necessary physiologic phenomenon because it lets your body cool down as it releases heat. If you dont sweat, you'd overheat and DIE!

Okay now that we've covered the basic info, lets get into it:

So, Batfam finds out about reader when she's just running into danger with little to no care for self preservation, and they dismiss it as you being just another dumb teen wanting to be hero and "change the world". Time passes by and Bruce is impressed by your passion and decides to take you under his wing.

It isnt until months later that Bruce discovers something odd about your behaviour. You were standing in the kitchen with the rest of the batkids, laughing and having a good time when he saw Dick had pulled out a hot pan of cookies from the oven and placed it on the aisle. The pan slipped, and without thinking, you had grabbed the hot pan with your bare hands very calmly and placed it back on the aisle, without so much as a hiss of pain or even a sweat.

And now that he thinks about it, Bruce has never seen you sweat. Not during training, not during summer, not even when after you ran laps around the mansion.

With a quick search on the Internet, he finds out about the disease and of course its Dick who he confides in first about his suspicions. Soon, the rest of the batfam has heard the rumours and now they're all watching you keenly to see if its true.

But Jason is the one who tests out the theory quickly by spilling some hot tea on your hand when you were busy talking to Tim about the importance of sleep. The room goes dead silent as they watch your hand turn red, yet you fail to react. It took you a few seconds to realise that they're all looking at you, and when you follow their gaze, it takes you a few seconds to react.

Or fake a reaction.

You shriek, pulling your reddening hand as you run to the sink and run it under cold water, your mind trying to come up with an excuse. But you know its too late when Bruce's hand comes to clasp your shoulder, pulling you away from the sink as his eyes examine your injured hand and... you.

"Bruce I-"

"I know, Y/n." He gives you assuring nod, carefully bandaging your hand as you sat in his office. "You have CIPA, hm?"

You looked down. Why bother lying? He's Batman, he'll find out anyways.

Bruce lifted your head and smiled gently at you. "Its okay. I'm not disappointed in you. I just... you could've told me." You shook your head. "If I did, you would've treated me differently... like a freak."

He sighed. "You are different, but I would've never treated you like a freak. You're not a freak. If anything, between us, I'm more of a freak than you." He was talking about being a hero, but you giggled at the thought of him referring to being a rich dude who cosplays in spandex.

Bruce cupped your cheek and smiled. "I promise, no one will treat you like a freak. But we will have to take some precautions for your safety."

-

He lied. You've never felt more like a freak than you do now.

Every single day would start off with Dick waking you up and sticking a thermometer in your mouth because he needs to make sure that you're not overheating, even though Bruce has set a thermostat in your room that he controls and he's programmed it to turn your room temperature change by the hour.

Then Dick would start checking you all over for any bruises or injuries, even a scratch, that you may have caused yourself in your sleep. Originally, Damian was the one who had a whole checklist as he examined your body, but that all ended the moment you smacked him when he asked you to lift your shirt. Dick would just have you go and check yourself in the bathroom and trust you when you said you're all good. Also, you're much nicer to Dick than you are to the rest of the brothers (its his puppy dog eyes and that sweet voice that compels you to do as he asks. He's just too nice.)

Dick would then lead you to down for breakfast with the family, where Alfred already has your glucometer out because of course, they must check your blood sugar level every day, lest they find out you're diabetic or something. Only then would you be served your meal, which is a highly nutritous, perfeclty seasoned, balanced dish because they want to make sure you dont have any vitamin deficiencies (because how would they know???? you dont feel pain). But you cant eat just yet. No no, whichever brother is closer, most often Jason, will first taste your food to make sure its not too hot to consume (because you dont realise you've burned the roof of your mouth that one time when Tim ate a slice of pizza that was fresh out of the oven and huppahhuffpuhh the morsel out). Jason would then give you the go to eat and you finally do. You make sure to finish the whole plate (because otherwise Bruce will make note of it and then interrogate you "medically" why you didnt feel like eating all of it?)

After breakfast, while the rest of the batkids get to go to school and work, you dont (because Bruce thinks that your immune system could be weak and he cant risk you catching any diseases from the outside.) No, you get a special trip to the infirmary where Bruce and Alfred do a more thorough medical check up, taking your vitals, JOTTING IT DOWN, while Alfred hooks you up to an IV drip of vitamins. And even though they go to such extents to ensure that you're healthy, they still take you to a skilled doctor once a week for regular check ups. Bruce wanted to keep the doctor in the house to do daily check ups, but you talked him out of it that you dont want to feel like a lab rat who has her blood taken every day. Once a week is fine, Bruce.

Once the medical check up is done, Bruce would then take you with him, either to Wayne enterprises where you sit in his office as he imparts you "business education that no school can teach you." which you believe because... well he has managed to triple the Wayne wealth even after his parents death. If he's working from home, then he'll let you accompany him in his home office where you can either read a book he chose for you (because Bruce prefers to homseschool you himself) or do a puzzle/case he created specifically for you. If he's working in the batcave, then he'll let you tag along but you can only work here by brainstorming or doing some computer research, but in no way are you allowed to ever go on field and fight. No, not since your last incident.

Just 2 months ago, you were patrolling with Jason (because Bruce refused to let you go alone now. He just wont risk it) and you encountered some bad guys who were a little more well equipped than you two had expected. A fight broke out, and in the process you got hurt badly. Of course, you didnt realise it because you didnt feel any of the punches or the bone fracturing. Jason could only look at you in dread as you smashed your head against the villain's head until the guy passed out, all while your nose bled, you were covered in bruises from top to bottom, AND you had a bone sticking out of your arm.

"Jay? I think I'm hurt?" You asked as blood coated your teeth.

After that, Bruce forbid you from going out on the field altogether because you just dont know when to stop. If it werent for bones sticking out or blood dripping down your face, you wouldnt know that you've been injured.

Anyways, at lunch, almost everyone has returned from work/school and you get yet another balanced meal (temperature tested by another brother). You're now scheduled for some exercises, usually conducted by Damian (under Dick's supervision because otherwise, you'd just be smacking that devil's spawn.) You guys use the gym in the basement, where Damian makes you run on the treadmill for some time, during which he does not take his eyes off you once because he needs to know when he should stop you, especially since you dont sweat or are even huff. If he didnt keep time, you could probably run for a long time and not realise that your legs or lungs are begging you to stop and take a break. As you hop off the machine, he's immediately taking your temperature. He does it after every exercise he makes you do.

After that is done, you spend time with Tim who likes to have you try on little gadgets that should "help you feel pain", but so far, he hasnt had any luck (but he doesn seem to be doing good in disguising trackers in your daily wear things). Oh and Damian loves to join in because he gets to sneak up on you and prick you with needles to help Tim see if your sensory pathways work. They dont, but you dont need your pain receptors to detect Damian coming up behind you as you smack him when he tries to prick you.

Then dinner is served, and then you're ushered straight to bed where Dick, or more often- Bruce has you do a self check like the one Dick does in the morning, but Bruce also makes sure to check your eyes to see if you "accidentally scratched your cornea" or whatever, tucks you in, tells you that he's so proud of you for how youre handling this and that you can come to him anytime, for anything. He kisses your forehead, wishes you goodnight, and leaves.

Half an hour later, Jason sneaks into your room with the goodies- junk food and video games. You two have the strongest bond because Jason is the one who treats you the most normal, and Jason does it partly to piss off Bruce but partly because he cares about your mental health. He knows it cant be good for you to be cooped up in the mansion under supervision like a bird in a gilded cage.

So sometimes, he sneaks you out of the mansion and takes you out on late night rides on his bike. You can even watch him fight villains, but you're sat far away and can never interferre.

Unfortunately for you two, this sneaking out will have to end because Bruce had recently decided to set up some cameras in your room because he wanted to make sure you slept well without any abnormal breathing patterns. Bruce hopes he doesnt have to use restraints on you, because he's not blind. He knows you're uncomfortable with this intricate routine and knowing your impulsive self, you'd probably break your own bones to get out of these restraints. And then he'll be forced to use sedatives and he really doesnt wanna rely on drugs... he likes your company when you're not droopy.

And as Bruce had anticipated, you broke down. You finally tried to leave, and he could see the color draining your face as you realised that there is no leaving.

"Why isnt the door opening?" You asked Bruce, as his four sons slowly surrounded you.

"You dont have to run away, Y/n-" He tried to calm you down but you flinched away, eyes wide as you looked at him like he was going to harm you.

"Bruce, why isnt the fucking door opening?" Your voice trembled, shooting him teary glare before focusing your eyes back on the boys who were closing in on you.

"You're meant to stay here, inside, where its safe." He answered, heart aching at the alarmed stance you took, your fight-or-flight was going to kick in. He took another step towards you, hands raised in surrender. "We can keep you safe-" thats all it took for you to bolt as the boys began chasing you. Realistically, you knew you couldnt escape them but something about their intensely concerned calls for your name had you jumping out of the window.

Glass shattered and sharp shards embedded themselves in your skin and feet, but you didnt react to them. No, your brain wasnt screaming in pain, it was screaming for you to get out!

Adrenaline pumped you to run into the dark woods surrounding the mansion, but you were soon knocked to the ground by Dick, who cushioned your fall by placing you on top of him as his hands wrapped around your form like a cage. "Y/n, calm down and listen-"

You began thrashing in his arms, screaming in agony. "Let ME GO! YOU'RE HURTING ME-!" Dick's arms loosened instinctively and you took that as a chance to elbow him in the throat and run, thanking some deity for letting Dick forget that you cant feel pain.

But your relief is short lived as Damian catches you and pushes you to the ground harshly. "Damian! Be careful! She could break a bone-"

"Bones can heal, Drake." Damian barked back, pulling you up before he pushed you against tree. "Let me go, you maniac-" Damian's hand clamped around your throat, making you shut up. "You're the one who's a maniac. Look at you! You've fucking hurt yourself because if your astounding stupidity!"

You whimpered, clawing at his hand wrapped around your throat. "Dami- p-please let go- you're hurting me!" You cried out, but your eyes went wide as he squeezed your throat and bared his teeth at you. "Not falling for it, dumbass." So... fooling Damian wasnt as easy a feat as it was fooling Dick.

You stopped the act and looked at him dead serious. "Let me go, Damian, or-"

"Or what?"

Or what? Or what? Did he think you were out of options? Out of escape plans?

You dont know why, but that triggered something inside you.

Damian and Tim could only watch as you suddenly slammed the back of your head against the tree. "Y/n-" He gasped in horror as you leaned your head forward before slamming it back against the hard rough surface. This time, Damian's hand that was wrapped around your neck felt your blood around his fingers.

"Its my life and I get to decide how I should live it." You sneered before raising your head again to bash it, but Damian's hand quickly slipped from your neck to the back of your head, cushioning it when you smacked it back, the skin on the back of his hand breaking as it made contact with the bark.

You pushed him away and tried to make a run for it, but Tim grabbed your wrist. You tried to pull away, but he had a death grip on it. "Y/n, stop! You need to listen-"

"Oh is that so? I think I need this." You used your other hand to punch yourself in the face (because Tim would've dodged it if you punched him), making your nose bleed. But you didnt feel any pain, and now you were acting like a super soldier zombie that has no concept of self preservation who is going through fucked up lengths to prove her point.

Your eyes caught the sight of a glass shard poking out of your thigh. "Wanna see something cool?" You pulled out the shard, not paying mind to the blood oozing out. "Y/n, stop-" Tim begged, and you saw Damian froze in the back as you raised the shard.

They didnt know what your next target was- slashing your wrists, slitting your throat, or stabbing your stomach, but fortunately, they didnt have to find out as Jason came up behind you and injected you with a tranquilliser.

Sadly, you never felt the prick or sensed the hero sneaking up behind you.

thoughts? also, what other diseases would u guys like me to write for. i just adore these cool medical abnormalities lol

[deluboo]

SO WHAT? YOU'RE NOT MY BOYFRIEND.

genre: smut — 18+ㅤ contains: unprotected sex masturbation (m+f) oral sex

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ © DELUBOO 2024.

it was another late night at the office, the clock nearing midnight as the soft hum of computers and the occasional shuffle of papers filled the air. you leaned back in your chair, stretching your arms above your head and stifling a yawn. across the room, seungcheol was doing the same, his eyes meeting yours with a familiar glint. this had become your routine – working late into the night, side by side, before heading back to your shared apartment.

"are you ready to call it a night?" seungcheol asked, his voice breaking the silence.

you nodded, shutting down your computer. "definitely. i think i’ve stared at this screen long enough to see the code in my sleep."

he chuckled, standing up and grabbing his jacket. "i know the feeling. let's get out of here."

the walk back to your apartment was quiet, the streets deserted and the air crisp. it was a short distance, just a few blocks, and the familiarity of the path made the silence comfortable. when you reached the apartment, seungcheol unlocked the door and held it open for you, a small gesture that always made you smile.

once inside, the routine continued. you dropped your bags by the door, kicked off your shoes, and headed to the kitchen. "want something to drink?" you called over your shoulder.

"sure, just water for me," he replied, disappearing into his room to change out of his work clothes.

you poured two glasses of water and settled onto the couch, waiting for him to return. moments later, he emerged in his usual post-work attire – gray sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, looking effortlessly handsome. he joined you on the couch, taking his glass with a grateful nod.

"long day," he said, taking a sip.

"tell me about it," you replied, leaning back against the cushions. "i don't know how much longer i can keep up with these late nights."

he turned to you, a playful smirk on his lips. "you say that every night, and yet here we are."

you rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips. "yeah, yeah. don't remind me."

this was your life – a blend of work and personal time that blurred the lines between professional and intimate. seungcheol was more than just a co-worker; he was your confidant, your roommate, and the one constant in your hectic life. the nights often ended like this, with the two of you sitting close, sharing quiet moments that hinted at something more.

it had started innocently enough, a mutual attraction that neither of you had acknowledged at first. but late nights at the office had a way of breaking down barriers, and before long, your relationship had shifted into something physical. there was an unspoken agreement between you – no strings attached, no complications, just a way to unwind after the stress of the day. and it worked, for the most part.

the routine was simple and comforting. after sharing a drink and some light conversation, the atmosphere would naturally shift. seungcheol would give you that look, the one that made your heart skip a beat and sent a shiver down your spine. it was a look that promised escape from the day's stress and a dive into something much more exhilarating.

"ready for bed?" he would ask, though the question always held a double meaning.

"yeah," you’d reply, though the answer was never just about sleep.

you both moved with a practiced ease, the kind that comes from familiarity and mutual understanding. there were no awkward hesitations or second guesses – just a smooth transition from the living room to the bedroom. seungcheol would wrap his arms around you from behind as you brushed your teeth, his lips brushing against your neck, sending a thrill through you. these moments of quiet intimacy were as much a part of your routine as the more passionate encounters that followed.

in the bedroom, the air would be thick with anticipation. seungcheol had a way of looking at you that made you feel like the most important person in the world. he was attentive, always knowing exactly what you needed without you having to say a word. it was this unspoken connection that made your arrangement work so well. he understood you, and you understood him.

he would start slowly, his touch gentle yet firm, his kisses soft but growing more urgent as the moments passed. there was a rhythm to it, a dance that you both knew the steps to by heart. the way his hands roamed your body, the way he whispered your name – it was a routine that brought both of you immense comfort and satisfaction.

"you're so beautiful," he'd murmur against your skin, his voice husky with desire.

"and you're insufferable," you'd tease back, your breath hitching as his hands found their way to your most sensitive spots.

but beneath the teasing and the passion, there was a deeper connection. the routine was more than just physical release; it was a way for both of you to unwind and find solace in each other. the world outside could be chaotic and demanding, but in those moments, everything else faded away.

afterwards, you would lie together in a tangled mess of limbs and sheets, the post-coital glow making everything feel warm and safe. seungcheol would hold you close, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your skin. it was in these quiet moments that you felt the most at peace.

"you should try to get some sleep," he'd whisper, his breath warm against your ear.

"i will," you'd reply, though you often found yourself staying awake a little longer, savoring the feeling of his body next to yours.

one morning, as you and seungcheol were enjoying a lazy breakfast together, you decided to share some news that had been on your mind. it was your day off, and the apartment was filled with the comforting scent of freshly brewed coffee and the soft hum of the radio playing in the background. you had been chatting casually about work and plans for the day when you took a deep breath and decided to bring it up.

"hey, seungcheol," you started, trying to keep your tone light and casual, "i wanted to let you know that i’m bringing a friend over tonight. his name is haru."

seungcheol's reaction was subtle, but you noticed it immediately. his grip on his coffee mug tightened slightly, and there was a brief flash of something in his eyes – jealousy, perhaps? – before he quickly masked it with a neutral expression.

"oh?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "a friend, huh? what's the occasion?"

you shrugged, trying to hide your own nervousness. "just thought it would be nice to hang out. haru and i have been talking for a while, and i thought it would be good to introduce him to you."

there was a beat of silence as seungcheol processed this information. he took a sip of his coffee, his eyes studying you over the rim of his mug. "i see. well, it’s your place too. you can invite whoever you want."

you nodded, feeling a mix of relief and apprehension. you had expected some sort of reaction from seungcheol, but his indifference felt almost worse than outright disapproval. you couldn’t quite place it, but there was an undercurrent of tension in the air now, a silent understanding that things might be changing.

the rest of the day was a whirlwind of activity as you prepared for haru’s visit. you spent hours cleaning the apartment, making sure everything was perfect. the kitchen was spotless, the living room was tidy, and you even put fresh sheets on the guest bed just in case. all the while, seungcheol watched you with a mixture of amusement and something else you couldn’t quite identify.

"you're really going all out for this guy, huh?" he remarked, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen as you bustled around.

"well, i want to make a good impression," you replied, trying to sound casual. "it's important to me."

seungcheol just nodded, his expression unreadable. "if you say so."

as the day wore on, your excitement grew, but so did your anxiety. you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to seungcheol's reaction than he was letting on. you had always valued your relationship with him, but you also knew that things couldn't stay the same forever. introducing someone new into your life felt like a step forward, but it also felt like a step away from the comfortable routine you had built with seungcheol.

the afternoon sun filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow on the apartment. you found yourself glancing at the clock more often than usual, your heart beating a little faster with each passing minute. you had spent so much time with seungcheol, sharing laughs, secrets, and intimate moments, that the thought of changing that dynamic was both thrilling and terrifying.

seungcheol, meanwhile, tried to focus on his own tasks. he moved around the apartment with an air of forced nonchalance, his usual confidence replaced with a slight edge of unease. he couldn't deny the pang of jealousy that gnawed at him, but he also didn't want to overstep any boundaries. you were free to see whoever you wanted, and he had no right to interfere. still, the thought of you being with someone else made his chest tighten.

"need any help with dinner?" seungcheol offered, his voice breaking the silence that had settled between you.

you looked up from the vegetables you were chopping and smiled. "sure, you can set the table."

as he busied himself with plates and cutlery, seungcheol couldn't help but steal glances at you. there was a lightness in your step, a brightness in your eyes that he hadn't seen before. it was clear that you were genuinely excited about haru's visit, and that realization made his heart ache just a little bit more.

"what's he like?" seungcheol asked, trying to sound casual.

"haru?" you paused, thinking about how to describe him. "he's sweet, funny, and really kind. we've been talking a lot, and i think there's something special between us."

seungcheol nodded, forcing a smile. "that's great. i'm glad you're happy."

you sensed the underlying tension in his words but chose not to push it. instead, you focused on the task at hand, preparing a meal that you hoped would impress haru. as the aroma of cooking filled the apartment, you allowed yourself to relax, reminding yourself that this was a positive step forward.

by the time evening rolled around, everything was ready. the table was set, the food was prepared, and you had even taken the time to freshen up and change into something nice. as you gave yourself a final once-over in the mirror, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the evening ahead.

just as you were about to head back to the living room, there was a knock at the door. your heart leaped in your chest, and you quickly moved to answer it. opening the door, you were greeted by haru's warm smile.

"hey," he said, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. "you look amazing."

"thanks," you replied, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "come in."

haru stepped inside, and you took a moment to admire him. he was tall and lean, with dark hair that fell slightly over his eyes and a charming, easygoing demeanor. he wore a casual outfit – jeans and a fitted shirt that showed off his athletic build. there was an air of confidence about him that put you at ease and made you feel excited about the evening ahead.

as you led haru into the apartment, you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. you had worked hard to make everything perfect, and now it was time to see how the evening would unfold. you guided him to the living room, where the table was set, and the aroma of the dinner you had prepared filled the air.

"this looks fantastic," haru said, glancing around appreciatively. "you really went all out."

you smiled, feeling a warm glow of satisfaction. "i just wanted to make sure you felt welcome."

just as you were about to introduce him to seungcheol, you heard the sound of a door opening behind you. seungcheol stepped out of his room, wearing his usual post-work attire of gray sweatpants and no shirt. his appearance was casual, yet it held an undeniable magnetism.

his well-defined muscles, honed from hours at the gym, moved with an effortless grace. his broad shoulders and chiseled chest caught the light just right, casting shadows that emphasized his sculpted physique. but it was his face that truly captivated – a strong, chiseled jawline framed a mouth that could shift from a teasing smile to a serious line in an instant. his dark hair was tousled, giving him an endearingly roguish look, while his eyes, a piercing shade of deep brown, held an intensity that made it hard to look away.

there was a certain scent about him, a mix of clean soap and something distinctly his, that lingered in the air and made your heart race. as he moved, there was an air of confidence and quiet strength about him, yet a hint of vulnerability in the way his eyes flickered over to you, just for a moment, before settling on haru.

seungcheol stopped in his tracks, his gaze locking onto haru and then drifting down to where your hands were still connected. the room seemed to freeze in that moment, an awkward silence enveloping you all.

"hey," seungcheol finally said, his voice low and rich, like a warm breeze. "i didn't realize we had company."

you quickly dropped haru's hand, feeling a bit flustered. "seungcheol, this is haru. haru, this is my roommate, seungcheol."

haru extended a hand, smiling politely. "nice to meet you."

seungcheol glanced at the outstretched hand, his eyes narrowing slightly. he made no move to take it, instead crossing his arms over his chest, his expression remaining cool and unreadable. "likewise," he said, his gaze never leaving haru's face.

there was a palpable tension in the air, and you couldn't quite understand why. seungcheol's usual easygoing demeanor seemed to have been replaced by something more guarded and intense. you brushed it off, attributing it to the sudden change in routine.

"why don't you join us for dinner?" you suggested, trying to ease the awkwardness.

seungcheol glanced at the table, then back at you. "i was just going to grab a snack," he said, his tone casual. "but thanks for the offer."

ignoring the lingering tension, you led haru to the dining table and gestured for him to sit. as you brought out the food, seungcheol moved to the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge with an air of nonchalance that seemed almost too forced. he emerged with a bottle of water and a snack, then leaned against the counter, watching you and haru with a look that you couldn't quite decipher.

"so, how did you two meet?" seungcheol asked, his voice cutting through the quiet conversation you were having with haru.

"we met through a mutual friend," haru explained, smiling at you. "it’s been really nice getting to know y/n."

"that's great," seungcheol replied, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "y/n is pretty amazing."

the compliment, though genuine, felt loaded with unspoken words. you glanced at seungcheol, trying to gauge his mood, but his expression was unreadable. you turned your attention back to haru, determined to make the evening enjoyable despite the strange undercurrent of tension.

as the evening progressed, the atmosphere in the room grew increasingly strained. you and haru settled into a comfortable rhythm, your conversation flowing easily despite the occasional pointed look from seungcheol. haru seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say, and you found yourself relaxing more with each passing minute. the food was delicious, and the atmosphere should have been perfect, but you couldn't shake the feeling that seungcheol was watching your every move with a scrutinizing gaze.

"so, haru," seungcheol interjected suddenly, his voice slicing through the lighthearted chatter with the precision of a well-aimed dagger. "what line of work keeps you occupied?"

haru looked up, momentarily startled by the abrupt inquiry. "i'm a graphic designer," he replied, offering a polite smile. "i work at a small agency downtown."

"fascinating," seungcheol drawled, leaning back in his chair with a languid grace that belied the intensity of his gaze. "it must be quite rewarding to indulge in such creative endeavors. y/n and i, alas, are consigned to the monotonous world of numbers and figures."

you shot seungcheol a pointed look, silently beseeching him to temper his remarks. however, he merely quirked an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as if he were savoring the undercurrent of tension he had created.

"it has its moments," haru conceded, his smile faltering ever so slightly under the weight of seungcheol's scrutiny. "i do enjoy the creative challenges."

"good for you," seungcheol replied, his tone laced with a veneer of civility that did little to mask the sarcasm lurking beneath. "it's always heartening to hear of someone finding fulfillment in their work."

sensing the rising tension, you endeavored to steer the conversation back to safer waters. "haru, you were telling me about that fascinating project with the interactive website. do go on."

haru's face brightened at the change of topic, and he launched into an enthusiastic description of his latest project. you listened with genuine interest, but you couldn't ignore the way seungcheol's eyes kept flickering back to you, his expression a perplexing blend of amusement and something darker.

as the evening wore on, seungcheol's interruptions grew more frequent and increasingly pointed. he made snarky comments about the food, pointed out trivial inconsistencies in haru's stories, and even "accidentally" bumped into you as he moved about the apartment. each incident seemed designed to unnerve haru, whose initial charm was gradually giving way to visible discomfort.

"excuse me," seungcheol said at one point, reaching across the table with a deliberate nonchalance that belied his true intent. he managed to knock over haru's glass of water, sending a cascade of liquid across the table. "oops. my apologies."

you quickly grabbed a towel to mop up the spill, your frustration simmering just below the surface. "it's fine," you said through clenched teeth, attempting to maintain your composure. "no harm done."

haru forced a smile, but the strain was evident in his eyes. "it's okay," he murmured, though his voice lacked its earlier warmth.

seungcheol's behavior was wearing on your nerves, and you couldn't fathom why he was acting this way. he had never been so openly antagonistic before, and it was starting to fray your patience. all you wanted was to enjoy your evening with haru, but seungcheol seemed hell-bent on making that impossible.

the final straw came when seungcheol "accidentally" brushed against haru's arm as he walked past, causing haru to drop his fork with a loud clatter. the sound reverberated through the tense silence, amplifying the growing discord.

"seriously?" you snapped, your eyes flashing with indignation as you glared at seungcheol. "can you please give us a moment's peace?"

seungcheol raised an eyebrow, his expression one of feigned innocence. "i was merely getting a drink," he said, holding up his glass as if to underscore his point.

"well, can you manage it without causing a scene?" you retorted, your frustration boiling over.

haru placed a soothing hand on your arm, his touch gentle and calming. "it's okay, y/n," he said softly, his eyes beseeching you to let it go. "really, it's fine."

but it wasn't fine. you could see the hurt and confusion in haru's eyes, and it only fueled your anger further. seungcheol was ruining what should have been a pleasant evening, and you were at a loss to understand why.

the tension in the room had reached a palpable peak, a silent battle of wills between seungcheol and haru with you caught in the crossfire. the evening that you had hoped would be a pleasant introduction of new possibilities had turned into a minefield of unspoken emotions and escalating conflict.

seungcheol's final act of sabotage came as the three of you attempted to settle down in the living room. you had just suggested watching a movie, hoping it might diffuse the tension, when seungcheol abruptly stood up, his eyes glinting with barely concealed irritation.

"i don't think this is working out," he announced, his voice ringing with a finality that froze you in place. he turned to haru, his expression hardening. "i think it's time for you to leave."

haru's eyes widened in shock, his calm demeanor slipping as he struggled to process seungcheol's blunt dismissal. "excuse me?" he said, his voice tinged with disbelief.

"you heard me," seungcheol replied, crossing his arms over his chest. "this isn't your place, and i think it's best if you leave now."

you felt a rush of anger and embarrassment flood your cheeks. "seungcheol, what the hell are you doing?" you demanded, stepping between him and haru. "you can't just kick him out like this!"

seungcheol's eyes met yours, a storm of emotions swirling within them. "i'm doing what needs to be done," he said, his tone unyielding.

haru stood up, his expression a mixture of hurt and frustration. "it's okay, y/n," he said, his voice resigned. "i'll go. this isn't worth the trouble."

you turned to haru, your heart sinking. "i'm so sorry, haru. this is not how i wanted tonight to go."

haru managed a small, sad smile. "it's not your fault," he said softly. "i'll call you later."

as haru gathered his things and headed for the door, you felt a pang of guilt and regret. this was supposed to be a simple, pleasant evening, and now it was ending in disaster. once the door closed behind haru, the silence in the apartment was deafening.

you turned to seungcheol, your anger boiling over. "what the hell was that for?" you shouted, your voice shaking with fury. "you just ruined my date! why would you do that?"

seungcheol's jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with a mix of defiance and something else you couldn't quite place. "he wasn't right for you," he said flatly.

"that's not for you to decide!" you shot back, your frustration reaching a breaking point. "you had no right to interfere like that. haru is a good guy, and you just humiliated him for no reason!"

seungcheol took a step closer, his presence towering over you. "i couldn't just stand by and watch you pretend everything was fine when it clearly wasn't," he said, his voice low and intense. "you deserve better than some guy who doesn't even know you."

"better?" you echoed, incredulous. "and who are you to say what i deserve? you've made it very clear that our…whatever this is…doesn't mean anything beyond a few nights of fun. you don't get to dictate who i see or don't see."

seungcheol's eyes darkened, his frustration matching your own. "is that what you think?" he demanded, his voice rough with emotion. "that this doesn't mean anything to me?"

you crossed your arms, trying to shield yourself from the vulnerability his words evoked. "what else am i supposed to think? you keep things casual, no strings attached. that's what we agreed on."

"and maybe i was wrong," seungcheol said, his voice softer now, but no less intense. "maybe i want more than that. maybe i want you."

the words hung in the air between you, a raw and unfiltered confession that left you reeling. you searched his eyes, looking for any sign that he was playing with you, but all you saw was sincerity and a depth of emotion that took your breath away.

the silence following seungcheol's confession was thick with tension, each second stretching like an eternity. you stood there, heart pounding, grappling with the raw honesty of his words. the anger that had fueled your argument moments ago was now mingled with confusion and a flicker of something unnamed and unsettling.

"y/n," seungcheol began, stepping closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "i mean it. i want you."

you opened your mouth to respond, to argue, but before you could utter a single word, seungcheol closed the distance between you. his hands cupped your face with a tenderness that belied the intensity of his emotions, and then his lips were on yours, silencing your protests in an instant.

the kiss was both unexpected and overwhelming. seungcheol's lips were warm and insistent, moving against yours with a fervor that took your breath away. for a moment, you were lost in the sensation, the world narrowing to the points where your bodies connected. his kiss was demanding yet tender, a blend of passion and desperation that made your heart race.

but just as quickly, the reality of the situation crashed back over you. you pulled away, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps. "no," you said, shaking your head as if to clear it. "you don't get to do that."

seungcheol's eyes searched yours, a mix of confusion and hurt flashing across his face. "y/n, i—"

"no," you interrupted, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and frustration. "you can't just kiss me and expect everything to be okay. you don't get to treat me like some casual hookup and then suddenly decide you want more. it doesn't work like that."

seungcheol took a step back, his hands dropping to his sides. "that's not what i'm doing," he said, his voice low but steady. "it's not like that."

"then what is it?" you demanded, crossing your arms over your chest in a defensive gesture. "because all you've ever wanted from me is something casual. and now, after ruining my date, you think you can just change the rules?"

"y/n, please," seungcheol pleaded, his eyes filled with a vulnerability that made your heart ache. "just listen to me."

you hesitated, the sincerity in his voice giving you pause. "fine," you said, your tone still guarded. "i'm listening."

seungcheol took a deep breath, as if gathering his thoughts. "i know i've been an idiot," he began, his voice steady but tinged with regret. "i've been hiding how i really feel because i was scared. scared of messing things up between us, scared of losing you if it didn't work out."

you frowned, your anger slowly giving way to confusion. "what are you talking about?"

"i'm talking about how much you mean to me," seungcheol said, taking a step closer. "i'm talking about how i can't stand the thought of you being with someone else because it makes me realize just how much i care about you. this isn't just some fling for me, y/n. it never was."

his words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of unspoken emotions. you could see the sincerity in his eyes, the raw honesty in his expression. it was a side of seungcheol you hadn't seen before, and it left you reeling.

"but you never said anything," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "you never gave me any indication that you felt this way."

"i know," seungcheol admitted, his voice thick with regret. "and i'm sorry for that. i thought i could keep things casual, that it would be easier that way. but seeing you with haru… it made me realize that i can't do this anymore. i can't pretend that what we have doesn't mean everything to me."

you stared at him, your mind racing as you tried to process everything he was saying. the anger that had fueled your argument was slowly giving way to a deeper, more complex mix of emotions. part of you wanted to believe him, to take the leap and see where it could lead. but another part of you was still hurt, still wary of getting your heart broken.

the silence hung heavy between you, laden with the weight of unspoken words and the raw, intense emotions that seungcheol’s confession had unearthed. you could see the sincerity in his eyes, the raw vulnerability that he rarely showed. and in that moment, your resolve began to waver.

“seungcheol,” you began, your voice trembling, “i don’t know what to say.”

“then don’t say anything,” he replied, stepping closer, his gaze unwavering. “just let me show you how i feel.”

before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both fervent and tender. his hands moved to your waist, pulling you against him, and you felt your body respond to his touch, the anger and confusion melting away, replaced by a burning desire.

his kiss deepened, his tongue sliding against yours with a sensuality that made your knees weak. you clung to him, your hands tangling in his hair as you surrendered to the intensity of the moment. seungcheol’s hands roamed over your body, his touch igniting a fire in your veins.

he broke the kiss, his breath ragged as he looked down at you, his eyes dark with desire. “i need you, y/n,” he murmured, his voice rough with longing. “i need you to know how much you mean to me.”

you nodded, unable to find your voice. he took your hand, leading you to the bedroom, each step filled with anticipation and unspoken promises. once inside, he turned to you, his gaze smoldering.

“undress for me,” he commanded softly, his eyes never leaving yours.

with trembling hands, you complied, shedding your clothes until you stood bare before him. seungcheol’s eyes roamed over your body, his expression one of awe and desire. he stepped closer, his hands moving to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, sending shivers down your spine.

“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “i want to make you feel good. will you let me?”

you nodded again, your breath hitching as his hands trailed down your body, leaving a path of fire in their wake. he knelt before you, his eyes locking onto yours as he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, his tongue darting out to taste your skin.

the sensation was electric, and you felt a surge of arousal as his mouth moved closer to your core. he parted your folds with his fingers, his tongue flicking over your clit with a skill that made you gasp. seungcheol’s hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he devoured you, his tongue and lips working in tandem to bring you to the brink of ecstasy.

“oh, god, seungcheol,” you moaned, your hands fisting in his hair as your hips bucked against his mouth. “don’t stop.”

he hummed in response, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through you. his tongue circled your clit, teasing and tormenting you until you were trembling with need. he slid two fingers inside you, curling them to hit that sweet spot, and you cried out, your body arching towards him.

seungcheol didn’t relent, his mouth and fingers working together to drive you closer and closer to the edge. you could feel the tension building, a coil tightening in your belly, and then it snapped, a tidal wave of pleasure crashing over you as you came, your cries echoing in the room.

he didn’t stop, his movements gentle as he coaxed you through the aftershocks, his eyes never leaving your face. when you finally came down, he stood, his fingers trailing your slick arousal up to your lips.

“open,” he instructed, and you obeyed, taking his fingers into your mouth, tasting yourself on his skin. the look of pure desire in his eyes made your pulse quicken, and you sucked his fingers clean, reveling in the way he watched you.

“good girl,” he praised, his voice a low rumble. he kissed you again, his tongue exploring your mouth with a possessiveness that made your knees weak. you could taste yourself on his lips, the mingling of flavors heightening your arousal once more.

seungcheol broke the kiss, his hands moving to undo his pants. “lie down,” he instructed, and you did, stretching out on the bed, your body still humming with the remnants of your orgasm.

he shed his clothes quickly, his erection standing proud as he joined you on the bed. he knelt between your legs, his eyes drinking in the sight of you spread out before him. “i’m going to make you feel so good,” he promised, his voice thick with need.

he took his cock in hand, stroking it slowly as he watched you. “touch yourself,” he ordered, and you complied, your fingers finding your clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles as you watched him.

seungcheol groaned, his hand moving faster on his cock as he watched you pleasure yourself. “that’s it, baby,” he murmured, his eyes locked on yours. “make yourself come for me.”

you bit your lip, your fingers moving faster, the combination of his gaze and the sensation pushing you closer to the edge. “seungcheol,” you moaned, your body tensing as you felt your orgasm building once more.

“come for me,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire. “come for me, y/n.”

his words pushed you over the edge, and you came with a cry, your body trembling with the force of your release. seungcheol watched you, his hand moving faster on his cock as he brought himself to the brink.

he leaned over you, his eyes burning with need. “i need to be inside you,” he said, his voice a raw whisper. “i need to feel you.”

you nodded, spreading your legs wider in invitation. seungcheol positioned himself at your entrance, his cock slick with your arousal. he pushed in slowly, the sensation of him filling you making you gasp.

he set a slow, steady pace, each thrust deep and deliberate. the pleasure built with each movement, the intensity of the connection between you making your head spin. seungcheol’s hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, his eyes never leaving yours.

“look at me,” he murmured, his voice a soft command. “i want to see you.”

you locked eyes with him, the depth of emotion in his gaze taking your breath away. the rhythm of his thrusts increased, the pleasure building to a fever pitch. he reached down, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in time with his thrusts.

the combination was too much, and you felt yourself hurtling towards another orgasm, the intensity overwhelming. “seungcheol,” you gasped, your body arching towards him.

“come for me,” he urged, his voice rough with need. “i want to feel you come around me.”

his words sent you spiraling over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you with a force that left you breathless. seungcheol followed you, his release spilling into you as he groaned your name, the sensation of him filling you only heightening your pleasure.

he collapsed beside you, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. you turned to him, your body still humming with the aftershocks of your release. he pulled you close, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your forehead.

“are you okay?” he asked softly, his hand smoothing over your hair.

you nodded, your heart full. “i’m more than okay,” you replied, your voice a whisper. “i’m perfect.”

seungcheol smiled, his eyes warm with affection. “good,” he said, pulling you even closer. “because i’m not letting you go.”

the promise in his words wrapped around you, a comforting reassurance of the depth of his feelings. in that moment, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. and that was all you needed.

the first light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow over the room. you stirred, nestled in the warmth of seungcheol’s embrace, his arm draped protectively around your waist. for a moment, you lay still, savoring the tranquility of the morning, the quiet intimacy that enveloped you both.

seungcheol shifted beside you, his eyes fluttering open. a slow smile spread across his face as he took in the sight of you in his arms. "good morning," he murmured, his voice husky with sleep.

"good morning," you replied, your own smile matching his.

he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "how did you sleep?" he asked, his lips trailing soft kisses down your temple and along your cheek.

"better than i have in a long time," you admitted, feeling a warmth spread through you at his affectionate gestures.

seungcheol’s kisses continued, each one a tender promise of his feelings. he moved to your other cheek, then your nose, then your chin, covering your face with a constellation of soft, loving kisses. you couldn’t help but giggle at the sensation, your heart swelling with affection for the man beside you.

"seungcheol," you murmured, your fingers threading through his hair as he nuzzled against your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

"hmm?" he hummed, his lips moving to your jawline.

"this is nice," you said, your voice soft. "i could get used to waking up like this."

he pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a tenderness that made your breath catch. "so could i," he replied, his hand cupping your cheek as he leaned in to kiss you softly on the lips.

just as you were losing yourself in the sweetness of the moment, a familiar sound interrupted the tranquility. the door creaked open, and you felt a rush of fur and energy as kkuma, seungcheol’s dog, bounded into the room.

"kkuma!" seungcheol exclaimed with a laugh, sitting up as the dog jumped onto the bed, tail wagging furiously.

kkuma wasted no time, planting herself between the two of you and showering seungcheol with enthusiastic licks. you couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, the dog’s antics bringing a lightness to the room.

"kkuma, stop," seungcheol said, though his laughter belied any real annoyance. he scratched behind the dog’s ears, giving her the attention she so eagerly sought. "you’re interrupting a very important moment, you know."

you smiled, reaching out to pet kkuma as well. "i think she’s just making sure we’re both awake," you said, your heart full as you watched the playful interaction between seungcheol and his beloved pet.

kkuma’s presence had an undeniable way of lightening the mood, her joyful energy infectious. she turned her attention to you, her eyes bright with curiosity. you scratched her behind the ears, earning a contented sigh as she settled down between you and seungcheol.

the three of you lay there for a while, enjoying the peaceful morning. 

"y/n," seungcheol said softly, his hand finding yours under the covers. "about last night…"

you turned to him, your heart skipping a beat at the seriousness in his tone. "yes?"

"i meant everything i said," he continued, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "i want to be with you. for real. no more pretending, no more keeping things casual."

you felt a lump form in your throat, the sincerity in his eyes nearly overwhelming. "i want that too, seungcheol," you whispered, squeezing his hand. "i want to be with you."

he smiled, a look of pure relief and happiness washing over his face. "then let’s do it," he said, leaning in to kiss you again, this time with a gentle, lingering sweetness that left no doubt about his feelings.

kkuma, not to be left out, nudged her way between you once more, her tail thumping against the bed as she demanded attention. you both laughed, the moment made all the more perfect by her playful interruption.

as the morning sun continued to rise, you and seungcheol talked about your future, about the possibilities that lay ahead. there was a sense of hope and excitement, a feeling that together, you could face whatever came your way.

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ — © DELUBOO 2024.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Mo' Money Mo' Problems

See Me Through You Blurb

Synopsis: Asking for help has always been hard for you, but when you aren't left with another option, your recently drafted NFL boyfriend comes to your rescue

Pairing: Boyfriend!Joe Burrow x Girlfriend!Reader

Requested: by a gorgeous anon 😍

Series Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Erin looked at you as you sat down across from her and sighed. This had been going on for the past week and you had now given yourself a headache trying to figure out what you were going to do.

“Call your boyfriend.” Erin told you as she threw your phone for you to catch it, but you quickly shook your head no as you caught it before it hit the floor.

“I am not calling him.”

“And why NOT?” She exclaimed and looked at you as if you were crazy.

“Because this is my problem and I'm going to deal with it. I don't have to run to him for every little thing.”

“YOUR BOYFRIEND PLAYS IN THE NFL! AS A QUARTERBACK! Or did you suddenly forget?”

“Just because he plays in the NFL doesn't mean I’m going to take advantage of that.” You said as you crossed your arms.

“Bestie, I love you but you fucking annoy me so much sometimes. So let me ask you this, Joe doesn't have a problem asking you for sex correct?”

“What in the world are you getting at?”

“Answer my question.”

“No, he doesn't.”

“And he fucks you raw simply because you had a fucking pregnancy scare two semesters ago when he won the Heisman.”

“Erin, get to the point already. I was scared out of my damn mind.” You replied as you rolled your eyes.

“My point is that you shouldn't have a problem asking your boyfriend who fucks you raw for money. At the very LEAST like bare minimum he can give you a little cash.”

“I get it but..”

“Uh no you obviously don't. And you know how he is. First thing out of his mouth is going to be why didn't you tell him. I'm convinced that man would drink your bath water if you let him.”

“I swear you get on my nerves.”

“Welp been doing that since we were three and that's not changing any time soon.”

“I don't know. I feel kind of weird asking people for anything. Like not just him and I’ve always been like that.” You said as you got up to go into your kitchen with Erin following close behind.

“It's not like he's going to want you to pay him back. I guarantee you that he'll give it to you without a second thought. You never know unless you try. Surprised he hasn't put your name on the bank account yet.”

“Something is wrong with you.”

“Bitch, don't act like he's not going to put a ring on your finger. Surprised he didn't do it our first semester.” Erin told you as you turned to look in the freezer for ground turkey to make homemade burgers for the two of you.

“Yes, obviously but not yet.”

“He is literally just waiting for you to graduate to do it.”

“And how do you know all this?” You asked as you began to cut up red onion along with some green bell peppers.

“I just do and like I said, he would drink your bath water.”

“Ew, Erin that's nasty.”

“Just calling it like I see it. But if you don't fix this in 48 hours when your rent is due, I'm calling Joe.”

Twenty four hours later you were finally lying down in your bed after a long and exhausting day, your phone rang indicating a facetime call coming through and you rolled over onto the other side to answer it. When your boyfriend's face came into view, you instantly smiled.

“Hi my love.” You quietly said and wrapped yourself tighter in the blankets that were covering you while propping up your phone.

“Hey baby doll. How was your day?” He asked while it looked like he was sitting up against the headboard.

“Hmm, long. I've been up since 4 in the morning. But you know I never pass up an opportunity to talk to you. I miss you.”

“I miss you too and Erin called me.”

“What? Why?”

She literally only gave you 24 hours and not 48 like she promised.

“You tell me. Something going on that I should know about?” Joe asked and you continued to look at him confused.

“Uh, not that I can think of.”

“Let me ask you this then. Have you paid your rent this month for your condo?”

“No and I have no idea why she called you. I told her I would take care of it.”

“Because you miscalculated your bills for this month and they added a whole bunch of fees and you decided to suffer instead of calling your boyfriend for help.”

“I…”

“Is that it?”

“I didn't want to bother you.” You quietly said and Joe just looked at you.

“Seriously? When are you ever bothering me? I have another question for you.”

“Yes?”

“You plan on being with me for a long time, right?”

“Yes.”

“And you know that I'm going to take care of you right? Especially when you graduate and move up here.”

“Yes.”

“So, why wouldn't I take care of you now?”

“I know you will, but if I can do it on my own, I'm going to try to.”

“But I'm here and you don't have to. Aren't you a WAG now?” Joe asked as he smiled at you.

“I want to be the W and not the G.” You replied without skipping a beat.

“Who’s to say that I don't already have your ring?”

“Well, my finger is still bare so? What does that do for me?” You told him as you held it up so he could see your hand.

“Touché, princess.” Joe told you as he smirked.

“Mm hmm, that's what I thought.”

“But next time you come up here we're picking out a house.”

“I…”

“Me and my future wife along with my future kids need a place to live so we can start looking. Or we can have it built, your choice."

“And a new car, mine is on its last leg.”

“Name it and it's yours. That goes for whatever else you want to.”

“NO! I'm going to get it! You are not going bankrupt buying someone who is not even your wife expensive things.”

“You ARE my wife; it's just not on paper yet.” He told you as he shrugged while your cheeks began to heat up.

“Babeeeee.”

“What? I'm not saying anything that isn't true. And besides, I'm not spending any money from my contract. Just my endorsement deals. But back to our original problem, you're good for the rest of the year.”

“I… JOEY! That was like 4,000 dollars!”

“Money is not a factor when it comes to you. If you need it, I'm getting it. So can we move on?”

"Fine, while I have you in a giving mood, I want an elephant." You replied and Joe simply gave you a blank stare.

"Best I can do is the Cincinatti Zoo, you gotta work with me here."

"Well, you said 'name it and it's yours'."

"Baby, I meant within reason and an elephant is not within reason."

[boobearymuch]

A Promise

Summary: You locked yourself away in the bedroom after getting home, and when Zayne called you over for dinner, you took the plate to go. At that point, perhaps someone braver than Zayne would have followed you and finally talked it out. Zayne sat alone and ate in silence instead. Tags: Zayne/Reader, gender-neutral, fluff, light angst Word Count: 1.4k read on ao3 | masterlist

Careful tapping filled the tense silence of your apartment—accompanied by your occasional stomping to the kitchen and back—as Zayne typed away at his laptop. It was getting dark out, and it was usually around this hour when patient forms and research articles blurred into an incoherent mess. The doctor looked up from his screen, blinking away the strain in his hazel eyes, before glancing around. “Love, have you seen my glasses?” You don’t respond. Instead, he hears your heavy footfall in the next room until the bedroom door abruptly swings open. Zayne glances at you, and you impatiently present him with the article he’s looking for. Except, you’re holding them by the lens. Zayne says nothing as he accepts the smudged glasses. 

“Have fun reading.” You mutter under your breath and stomp back to the bedroom. Zayne simply stares at the dirty glasses for a moment before sighing and shutting his laptop. You’re angry. Still angry. Have been since your hospital visit this afternoon. And Zayne isn’t sure how to approach you, so—like a coward—he busied himself with work to avoid your ire. He managed to convince himself you needed space, that you would pout and cross your arms for a bit, but ultimately come around to see his side of things. That never happened. You locked yourself away in the bedroom after getting home, and when Zayne called you over for dinner, you took the plate to go. At that point, perhaps someone braver than Zayne would have followed you and finally talked it out. Zayne sat alone and ate in silence instead. 

He pinched the bridge of his noise and inhaled deeply. Right. 

The bedroom door creaked as Zayne gently pushed it open to find you scrolling away on your phone. You were resting, at least, like he suggested you did. “Have you taken your vitamins yet? I can bring you a glass of water.” His soft gaze never left you. 

You didn’t even glance up from your phone. “Why? Gonna tell Jenna if I don’t?” Well, then, there was no avoiding it now. 

Zayne stepped further into the bedroom. “No, but it would make your doctor feel better if you did.” You did glance at him this time, albeit briefly, to glare. “We should talk about this.”

Your nostrils flared at the statement. “Oh, so now you want my opinion?” 

“I’ve always valued your opinion.” Zayne sat at the opposite end of the bed now, and you groaned as you turned away from him. He’s never seen you like this. At least, not with him. Knowing he was at the root of your anger weighed painfully on his chest. It hurt to breathe, even. “But when it comes to your health, I am always going to prioritize your well-being. No matter what.”

“You went behind my back, Zayne.” Your voice was low, spine facing him, but he hung on your every word. “You just went ahead and told my captain I’d be taking the week off before you even told me.”

“I…regret that.” Zayne clasped his hands together awkwardly, “I should have let you known first. Listened to you.” When you said nothing, he let out a small breath, “But I am not letting myself regret making you take the week off.”

At this, you finally sat up to whirl around and huff at him. “That wasn’t your choice to make. It was mine. My choice.”

Zayne met your heated gaze with an intensity of his own. “You walked into my office half-dead and bleeding—”

“I was not half-dead, it was a concussion!”

“Well, you scared me half to death. How could I, in good conscience, just let you return to work like that?” Your mouth opened, then closed. Did you have any idea how terrified he was? “When I saw you,” Zayne paused to swallow around nothing, “My first thought was, how many more times will I have to see you like that?” His brow furrowed, and those green eyes desperately darted to the bandage on your forehead.

“It’s part of the job.” Your voice held no bite to it. Instead, you watched him as closely as he watched you now, “You know that.”

“I know that.” He repeated, “I know.” His jaw clenched, and his voice came out smaller than he expected it to, “...And what if you don’t make it to the hospital next time?” You inhaled sharply and looked away now, head dropping to distract yourself with Zayne’s bedding. “You constantly throw yourself into harm’s way, again and again, with little regard to your heart condition. Can you blame me for taking matters into my own hands?” He watched the fabric of his comforter scrunch underneath his fist. 

You seemed considerably calmer now and managed a glance at him. “...I really worried you today, didn’t I?”

“I am always worried. More than I’d like to admit.” He added softly.

The moment hung in the air for several seconds. “You could have just told me that from the beginning, you know.” You mumbled—face burning—and Zayne finally looked up, “I know I tend to ignore your medical advice, but if I had known how you were really feeling, I would have listened to you. Anything to reassure you.”

Zayne knew that already. He knew, deep down, you might agree to taking time off. But his heart reacted before his mind did; he feared the worst. If only he were better at expressing himself, this entire conversation could have been avoided. Guilt sank his shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

The bed dipped, and you were suddenly mere inches from him. He said nothing as you grabbed his hand and laid his palm flat against your clothes. Over your heart. “Do you feel that?” You whispered, eyes searching his. Zayne’s breath hitched in his throat; the gentle drum of your heart beat faster than usual, “It’s still beating, thanks to you.” Your fingers curled around his, and Zayne took the moment to ground himself. You were so warm, so alive. You were okay. “I will always make it home to you, Zayne,” Your other hand gently thumbed his cheek, “I promised my doctor I would, after all.” 

He averted his gaze, embarrassed, as a breathy chuckle left him. Zayne felt ridiculous. You were the one with a concussion, yet here you were comforting him. “Can you make another promise? To just me?”

You perked up, clearly in a better mood now, “Anything.”

He brought your hands together to clasp them in his larger ones, “Promise me,” Then he brought them to his lips, “you’ll remember I’m always here for you.”

The kiss he placed on your knuckles brought the first smile to your lips all day. “What a sap.” You murmured timidly, and averted your eyes from Zayne’s. But he didn’t relent; this was the closest you’ve both been since your argument began this afternoon. You had no idea how sorely he itched to be at your side, to be within arm’s reach of whatever you could possibly want or need. Now that the matter was settled, he had no intention of letting you slip away. 

“Rest now,” And he kissed your hands again just because he could, “I’ll grab your vitamins and make tea.” He reluctantly pulled away to do just that—and completely missed the impish glint in your eye. Before Zayne could fully stand, a swift pair of arms wrapped themselves around his neck and tugged. A grunt of surprise left him as he fell forward and braced himself just in time to avoid crushing you. Wide eyes met your twinkling gaze, and you had the audacity to laugh at his expression. “Your concussion—”

“Don’t leave me, Dr. Zayne!” You wailed dramatically, “The only vitamin I need right now is vitamin you.”

“Stop.” His ears burned hot with embarrassment before you even finished your sentence. You’ve used that line before, every time he offered you vitamins, in fact. He should’ve seen it coming, honestly.

“And why should I? You’re too easy to tease,” You laughed to yourself and brushed disheveled bangs out of his flustered eyes. Then your gaze softened, “Come here?”

Zayne hesitated. “I shouldn’t. You need to rest properly.” But your arms only tugged at his shoulders impatiently.

“I can’t rest properly unless you come closer.” Zayne sighed, but smiled down at you gently. You could read him like an open book by now, and something told Zayne this was more for his benefit than your own. 

“Just for a few minutes.” Zayne carefully lowered himself to nuzzle into the crook of your neck, arms instantly wrapping themselves around your waist, “And then you’re taking your vitamins.”

“Mhm…” Your own hands began their lazy circles across his back, one reaching up to slide into his raven hair, “I missed you, too, by the way.” He chuckled softly against your skin. 

Like an open book.