#woke up early…. but work got cancelled

[mrs-nubenueve]

feel like i lived toooo many lives today….

[revelations-mp3]

It has been the longest week and it’s not even over yet I’m gonna be so burned out next week

[julymusings]

dark chocolate cherry

i want to bring you flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses. i want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.

or; your boyfriend shows up when you just want some alone time [3.2k]

jason todd x fem!reader; reader gets her period and describes painful symptoms; just fluff; jason "words don't come easy so here's acts of service" todd this is earlier in the relationship which is why he's still a little shy but she knows he's red hood? idk man. i was just going with it; can you guess what inspired this? (everything is awful)

The day started at 2 AM when you woke to shooting pains in your abdomen and blood everywhere. It continued until 2:45 while you cleaned yourself, changed clothes, put on a fresh pad, took some painkillers, and changed the sheets. It paused for about an hour until you woke up again at 4:00, courtesy of Gotham’s patented night-life that had taught you to completely tune out the sound of police sirens. Tonight, however, they weren’t tuning out.

The sirens quieted at 4:10, by which angry tears collected in the corners of your eyes as you flopped around in bed in an attempt to get comfortable. No matter what you did, there was always something wrong; the pillow was too hard, the blanket was too scratchy, the position hurt your arm.

From 4:11 to 4:12, you screamed into your pillow.

By 4:15 you had settled in front of the TV with a bowl of dry cereal (it took everything in you not to cry over the lack of milk in your fridge), a heating pad, and your favorite comfort show queued up.

At 8 AM you managed to drag yourself to work, where you half-assed the day’s tasks, took a 15-minute break to cry in your car, then dipped out a half-hour early.

Now, at 5 PM on a Friday evening, you’re curled into the fetal position in front of your TV with your comfort show resumed and your trusty heating pad cranked to the highest setting. Prepared to spend the entire night here, you already changed into pajamas and kept a couple blankets within reach. Your phone buzzes on the coffee table, and you stretch to reach it, careful not to lose your comfortable position or roll off the couch.

Jason About to leave Be there in 20

You groan out loud. You want to throw your phone across the room, but decide against it because no amount of hormones from hell are worth six hundred dollars. You’re still angry, though, for being so stupid as to forget about the date you had planned for tonight. Scrolling up to earlier messages, you see another text from today wishing you a good morning and telling you he was excited to see you tonight. But, too down to bother checking any messages today, you had missed it.

You I can’t tonight anymore I’m sorry I don’t feel great

After hitting send, you place your phone on the ground, not even having the energy to reach for the coffee table again. Or the energy to lift your arm back up, apparently, given how it hangs limply over the edge of the couch. You feel guilty about cancelling, but you are in no state to go out tonight. You’re used to the symptoms of your period hitting so hard. As much as you and Jason care about each other, you’re not sure you’re ready for him to see you like this. You’ve managed to plan your relationship around your hormone cycle so far, but today it came early.

Your phone’s buzzing is muffled by the rug, and you almost don’t hear it. Jason’s photo is displayed on the screen.

Your hanging hand clicks ‘answer’ and puts it on speaker so you can take the call without moving from how you're curled up.

“Is everything okay? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m fine, I just don’t feel up for going out tonight. I’d rather stay home.”

“Did something happen?”

“No, I just got my period so I’m not really in the mood.”

“Okay, we can stay in tonight. What do you feel like eating? I can pick something up.”

“No, Jason…I want to stay home alone tonight.”

There’s a beat of silence on the other end of the line.

“Okay…did I do something?” His voice comes out a little smaller.

“No, you’re fine, I promise. I just don’t feel like seeing anyone right now.”

“…Not even me?”

Your hand presses against your temples to soothe the building tension headache. The self-doubt in his tone brings the anguish of the entire day bubbling up your throat. You feel like the worst person in the world. Exactly how you don’t want him to see you.

“Jason…it’s not you. I just…I feel like shit right now, honestly. Everything hurts, I’m miserable and sad and angry at everything, I’m breaking out all over.” You feel yourself welling up at all these little stresses coming out. “I’m craving everything but feel too sick to eat anything…I feel pretty disgusting right now, and frankly, I don’t want you to see me like this.” You finish your rant with a sniffle. You wipe your nose, trying to hold back the sob that’s threatening to break through. But at his silence, your worst, most improbable fears claw their way to the surface: he hates you now. You scared him away. You exhale heavily into your sleeve as more tears spill.

The phone is quiet for a long moment.  Then; “I could never find you disgusting,” he says, gently. “But if that’s what you want, then we’ll reschedule.”

“Thank you. And sorry.”

He speaks with a tone you can’t quite parse. “Don’t apologize. Just feel better.”

-

-

-

It’s one hour after your phone call, and at the first knock, you know who it is. Who else could it be? With that soft, somewhat hesitant, one-knuckle rap on the door. Only one person knocks on your door like that.

“Jason, I told you not to come here,” you say a little more cutting than you intend to, but your back and shoulders feel like they’re about to snap under a phantom pressure and the frustration of your request being outright ignored leaves a burning bitterness that channels itself into a violent wrenching open of the door.

He jumps a little at the abruptness of your greeting. One look at your face and he visibly deflates.

“I’m sorry…I know you said not to come, but…” his gaze casts downward to his hands. You follow; he’s clutching a reusable grocery bag. Peeking out of the top is a gallon of Neapolitan ice cream. The ice cream carton’s condensation seeped through a small patch of the cloth bag and dripped onto the other items; a bushel of greens, among some other fruits and vegetables, as well as a parcel of brown paper that was fastened closed with a twine string. You return your gaze to his face.

“I think—” he cuts himself off, free hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Then he drops his hand and sighs. “I’m sorry. This was a bad idea. You told me not to come here and I ignored you, but I thought…” he trails off, probably hoping you’ll say something so he can gauge your reaction.

You just stare at him.

He shifts his weight back and forth. His hand twitches.

“Okay, yeah, I’ll—”

Then, you burst into tears.

Jason’s eyes widen. He reaches out to touch you, then stops himself. “Oh, fuck, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, this was stupid. Please stop crying, I’m so sorry—” He’s panicked, trying to calm you down with apologies and soothing assurances that he will leave immediately and never go against your wishes again. All the while you stand in the doorway, blubbering like a toddler with a skinned knee, new tears forming faster than you can wipe the old ones away.

He once again raises a hand towards you, before it stutters, then clenches into a fist as if it takes all his strength to fight against the instinct to be close to you, fighting against the string that tethers him to you. He drags his hand down his face, then it falls back to his side.

“Okay, I—I’m leaving now. I’m leaving. Do you…want this?” He holds the bag out to you.

With it now in front of you, its further contents are visible. You manage to tamp down your tears enough to get a few words out.

“Did you—hic—buy me groceries?”

“Yeah…” There’s a wince in his tone, as if he’s only now realizing that his gesture is not translating as he intended.

You look back up at him with pursed lips and knitted brows, sniffling. Sure, the ice cream you can understand, but…you have no idea what to make of the rest.

The bag drops back to his side. “I figured…it’s just— it’s the stuff that you’re supposed to—” He strokes his palm over his mouth, eyes screwing shut for a moment. He huffs at himself, then continues. “I mean I’m sure you already know all of this, so maybe you already have all these things, and now I’m realizing how unnecessary all this was, and I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“Jason,” you say. Your upset has since been overshadowed by something else, though you can’t tell what it is. And your crying has stopped, but its lingering effects have you feeling congested and a little foggy. You’re half expecting this to be a fever dream that you’re moments away from waking up from in a cold sweat.

“—because obviously you know what helps you feel better much more than I do—”

“Jason.”

“And you— yeah?” His eyes are a little harried when they find yours again. But off your tired and still-confused look, he gets the message and collects himself.

“Right, yeah, I just thought that…maybe I could bring you some of the stuff with all those minerals that are supposed to help women when they’re…menstruating.” He briefly breaks eye contact at the end of his sentence, red rouge creeping up his neck.

You can’t help it; you start to giggle. You can’t remember the last time you heard a man use the term ‘menstruating’ in a non-medical context. And the fact that he’s so shy about it— upset as you may be (though not at him), there’s no denying how adorable your boyfriend is. His head shoots back to you as your laughter intensifies. He blushes harder.

“It’s not that funny,” he mutters.

You step away from the door, finally closing the space between you, and wrap your arms around his torso. Your head nestles into his chest. He gently drops the grocery bag on the ground and reciprocates your hug. He rests his chin on your head, which fits perfectly under his. Like two puzzle pieces clicking into place. You breathe him in.

“Sorry I’m such a mess,” you murmur into his shirt.

He breathes into your hair. “You have nothing to apologize for. And you’re not a mess.”

You look up, chin resting in the space between his collarbones. He looks down at you with a small smile, but some wariness is still etched into his features. Fear of unwittingly upsetting you again. He brings up a hand to push some hair out of your face and tuck it behind your ear. His hand remains there, toying with the hair that falls below your shoulder.

"Thank you for the food,” you whisper. The moment feels too intimate to speak any other way.

“I’m sorry for not listening to you. I just…” He imitates your quietness, like his admission is also too vulnerable to say loudly. “I really wanted to see you. And I hated the idea of you feeling bad about yourself, or being in pain. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Your eyes feel wet again. The first instinct is to hide your face, maybe press it to his chest once more. But, for some reason, you don’t. You want him to see you like this, messy and emotional and upset. You want him to see every part of you, and you want to see every part of him, the good and the bad.

“You didn’t.” A tear slips past the effort to keep it at bay. He shows no reaction to it, eyes never leaving yours, other than a quick swiping away with his thumb. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before. That’s why I was crying. Not because you showed up.”

“That doesn’t seem right. This is nothing. You deserve even more.”

With no words to fully, adequately communicate the blooming in your chest, you stand on your toes, reaching up to him for a kiss. But given his stature, your lips only reach his chin and brush over its underside.

At your quiet whine, he chuckles and leans down to meet you in the middle. The kiss is soft; filled with the innocence of fresh blossoms in the spring, and the sweetness of its borne fruit.

You pull away when a vicious cramp roots you back to the present. Your limps tighten around Jason with a groan.

“I need to go back inside. I’ve been away from my heating pad for too long.”

His shoulders sag when you step away from him. “Oh, um…do you still…want me to leave?”

With a simple exhale of humorous disbelief, you grasp his hand in yours and tug him to your front door. He’s like an excited puppy, eyes brightened and perking up as he grabs the grocery bag and happily trails after you.

He goes straight to the kitchen, pulling out a chair at the counter for you to settle into, then sets the bag on the counter. The ice cream carton has dampened most of the cloth by now, and likely the rest of its contents, but rather than attending to the groceries, his first action is retrieving your heating pad from where it rests on the couch. He unplugs it from the wall outlet and brings it to you. You curl up on the chair with it pressed flat against your lower stomach. It only takes a minute for the pressure in your hips to abate.

Then he moves to the groceries. The ice cream immediately goes in the freezer, and he unloads what’s remaining onto the counter, one by one, and you take note of each item. There’s spinach, carrots, apples, oranges, dark chocolate, some kind of meat wrapped in brown paper, and, strangely enough, an entire block of cheese.

You give him a quizzical look, picking it up to read the label. “You got me…cheddar cheese?”

He retrieves a cutting board and knife from its spot next to the sink, then takes the cheese from you. “Good for certain symptoms.” He slices open the plastic wrapping and cuts out some cubes with skilled efficiency. He does the same with an apple. “They all are,” he says, referring to his entire haul. He completes the makeshift charcuterie board with a couple squares of dark chocolate and slides it across the counter.

You look down at the cutting board, thinking about everything he’s done for you; everything you never even had to ask for. The words sit on your tongue, encaged by your clenched teeth; an admission that coils itself around your spine and squeezes tight, restricts your breathing and pumps your heart at thrice its speed. But you feel yourself welling up again, and the first bout of tears already exhausted you so much that all you can manage is, “I don’t know what to do with all this. I don’t have the energy to make anything good.”

But he just smiles and says, “That’s what I’m here for, honey. Can I make you something?”

You nod. He gets to work. The immediacy of his actions, how he takes no time to decide on a dish or find a recipe, makes you think his previously stated intentions of ‘just dropping this off’ were less genuine than he lead you to believe. Nevertheless, you munch on the snacks he laid out for you and watch him work. The cheese and apples are a surprisingly cohesive combination, the meshing of sweet crispiness and savory creaminess eliciting a contented sigh from you. You try to ignore the way Jason smirks in the corner of your periphery. The chocolate is incredible, yet unfamiliar. You read the label on the packaging: 80% Dark Chocolate with Cherry and Almond Filling. Even if you hadn’t tasted it yet, the quality of the packaging itself would have been enough to let you know that this chocolate is extremely high-quality. Like, special-order-from-Europe quality. Not stop-at-the-grocery-store-on-the-way-home quality.

“Where is this from? Did you buy this today?” You ask him through a mouthful of the rich, melting chocolate.

He doesn’t look up from the carrots he’s dicing. “Uh…no.”

Anyone else would attribute his avoidance of eye-contact to standard kitchen-knife caution. You are not anyone else. You could blindfold him, spin him around ten times, put a sharp knife in his hand, and he could still pull off a perfect julienne. You look closer. His cheeks are dusted with pink.

You let out a laugh. “Jason, you’re not embarrassed about liking fancy chocolate, are you?”

“No! Not at all,” he says, ceasing his chopping. He looks up, but not quite at you.

“Then?”

“‘Then’ what?” He asks.

“Then why are you being so shifty right now?” You try to catch his gaze.

“I’m not!” He defends. “It’s just chocolate! Do you like it? I’ll bring you more.” He’s stealthy with the way he avoids your eyes; you almost can’t notice how hard he’s trying not to make eye contact.

“Jason!” You reach across the counter, having to rise off the chair slightly, and take his face in your hands, making him look at you. When he does, he wears a sheepish smile.

“It’s…” His removes your hands from his face, holding them in his. He mumbles something, turning his head to the side. But you catch the tail end of it, a goading grin already creeping up your face.

“What was that?” You tilt your ear towards him, exaggerating the action.

“It’s Bruce’s.” He, in turn, exaggerates the enunciation, rolling his eyes at your simpering. “I…found it. In his pantry one day. And I liked it, so I took it. And then I…kept taking it. Every time I visited.”

You pout teasingly. “And you’re ashamed to admit that you think he has good taste in something?”

He doesn’t say anything, only hiding his face in his shoulder. You pull on your intertwined hands and he gets the message, skirting around the kitchen counter to come closer.

“You are so adorable, you know that?” You say. You reach up and pinch his cheeks. He swats your hands away, but there’s no mistaking his broad, childish grin for anything but affection.

He breaks off another square from the chocolate bar and holds it to your lips. You bite off a small portion, then push it back to him. He takes the remaining piece in his mouth and his eyes close for a brief moment as he savors the sweet, tart, and nutty flavors. You simply watch, entranced by him. Then, he kisses you. You lean into it, hands sliding up his shirt to grip the fabric and bring him even closer. His hold finds your waist.

He tastes like cherries and dark chocolate.

He breaks the kiss to rest his forehead on yours, and you want to tell him that. That, and so much more. But from the look on his face, the way his eyes find yours and the tips of his ears have a similar heat to the one in your chest, you can tell he already knows.

when it comes to jason's post-pit-repressed-teenager characterization (aka despite being older he's still as inexperienced and confused and insecure about the world outside of vigilantism and w/ women as a 15 y/o would be) (aka my favorite characterization tee hee), i think that he's mature about periods, knows they're normal and not gross or shameful etc, but still gets shy about saying the actual word, for no other reason than the 'shy around women' part always makes me giggle

also bruce is keeping the chocolate stocked specifically because he knows jason likes it and will keep taking it because he loves his son even if his son doesn't love him (he does he's just in his angsty teen 'i hate this family you don't understand me' phase rn)

divider is from here

quote at the beginning is pablo neruda <3

[callsigns-haze]

Maybe us one day was absolutely beautiful!!! Thank you so much for your wonderful writing 🙌🏻 would you ever consider a part 2? Possibly with Daddy Xaden and their baby girl?!

Maybe us soon

Pairing: Xaden Riorson x reader

Xaden's life has changed completely. Ever since he became King of Tyrrendor, your lover, overcame venin, his life has been perfect. Hs squad now grows, in many ways, and the old Xaden Riorson would have not suspected this to be his faith, now you, his wife, are pregnant with your daughter but the problem with you is that you can't sit still.

Stand alone but could be part 2 of Maybe us one day

This contains mature themes: mentions of giving birth, kidnapping, blood, injury, throwing up, war I don't think there is any spoiler in fairness, it's just what I'd love the ending to be.

The early morning light hadn’t even touched the sky when the soft rustling of blankets and the shift of weight on the mattress pulled you from sleep. You blinked slowly, still curled in the warmth of your shared bed, the thick blankets wrapped around you like a cocoon. The air was cool—one of those crisp spring mornings in Tyrrendor where dawn always felt a little too early.

You felt him before you saw him.

Xaden.

Moving carefully, deliberately, like he didn’t want to wake you. His scent—storm-washed leather, spice, and something uniquely him—lingered in the sheets, grounding you even as he moved farther from your side.

You made a small, sleepy noise and turned your head, eyes barely open as your hand searched for him in the space he’d just vacated.

His voice was low, soft and gravelly with sleep. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

You whimpered lightly, still not fully conscious, and your fingers clutched at nothing but cooling sheets. “No… stay…”

You felt the mattress dip again as he sat beside you, and a second later, the rough, warm brush of his fingers traced your cheek. You turned into his touch instinctively, still half-dreaming.

“I wish I could,” he murmured, leaning down. His lips pressed gently against your temple, then the bridge of your nose, and finally your mouth in a kiss that was far too soft for how brief it was. “I’ve got council meetings all day. Won’t be back until seven this night.”

That woke you just enough to understand.

Your lips puckered into a pout, eyes fluttering open fully now. He looked so unfairly good for six in the morning—already dressed in his deep black long coat, only the top half fastened, the collar slightly askew from where he’d been rushing. His hair was still damp from the quick rinse he must’ve taken, pushed back with damp fingers, and his shadows slithered across the floor near his boots like they, too, hated leaving.

You pushed yourself up slightly, propping on an elbow. Your shirt—his shirt, really—slipped from your shoulder, and the sight made something flicker in his storm-dark gaze.

“Cancel the meetings,” you murmured, voice still thick with sleep as you reached for him. “King’s orders.”

He huffed out a quiet laugh, brushing your wrist with his thumb. “Is that how it works now?”

“Should be.”

He leaned in and kissed you again—longer this time, slower, like he didn’t want to leave either. Your fingers curled around the front of his coat, holding him there, refusing to let go.

But eventually, he pulled back. “You need rest. Five months isn’t nothing.”

You scowled. “You’re making it sound like I’m delicate.”

His hand smoothed down your side beneath the blankets, finding the gentle swell of your stomach and lingering there. “You’re carrying our daughter,” he said softly. “Delicate doesn’t apply, but important? Yeah.”

Your breath caught. Even now, hearing those words—our daughter—still hit differently. Still lit something warm and wide open in your chest.

You reached for his wrist, holding him there as your thumb traced along his skin. “I’ll miss you.”

Xaden’s expression shifted—just slightly, just enough that you saw the ache behind his eyes. “I’ll be back before you know it. And I’ll bring food this time.”

You gave a half-smile. “Good. If you come home empty-handed again, I’m throwing you out.”

He grinned, but it was crooked and filled with affection. “Noted.”

You pulled his hand to your lips, kissed the knuckles slowly. Then whispered, “Be safe.”

His shadows tightened around his shoulders like a cloak, reacting to your emotion as if they could protect him for you.

“I always am,” he said, leaning in one last time, kissing you gently on the forehead, then again on your belly. “You two behave today.”

You gave a soft snort. “Not likely.”

And then—he was gone.

The door shut behind him with a soft click, his shadows trailing behind like smoke.

You exhaled slowly, sinking back into the pillows, hand splaying over your stomach as your daughter shifted lightly beneath your palm, like she already missed him too.

You whispered to the quiet, to her.

“He’ll be back soon.”

The silence he left behind was almost too loud.

You lay there for a moment, the warmth of his kiss still lingering on your lips, his scent wrapped in the sheets around you. The early morning light finally began to spill through the gauzy curtains, casting golden streaks across the room. Outside, Tyrrendor slowly woke beneath a soft blush of dawn—birds calling lazily from the stone ledges, wind rustling against the tower.

But inside the room, it was just you and her.

You slid your hand slowly over the curve of your belly, where your daughter shifted again—gentle and fluttering, like a ripple across still water.

“Good morning, little one,” you murmured, your voice soft and low. “He didn’t want to leave either, you know.”

She kicked, just once, firm enough to make you blink in surprise.

You smiled, cradling your belly with both hands now. “I know, I miss him too.”

The ache of missing Xaden already rooted itself deep inside you, though it had only been minutes since he’d left. It was ridiculous. You’d spent days, weeks, even months apart during the war. But now, with peace finally settled and life growing inside you, his absence felt heavier—like the bond between you had only grown more insistent with time.

Your daughter rolled again beneath your hands, and you laughed quietly. “You’re just like him, aren’t you? Already making your presence known.”

She didn’t kick this time, but you felt the pressure shift again—a nudge. A reminder that she was there, listening.

With a quiet groan, you sat up and swung your legs over the side of the bed. The cool floor made you shiver, and you reached for the knitted robe slung over the bedpost, shrugging it on with a sigh.

Chaire stirred in your mind, his deep voice crackling into your thoughts like smoke and thunder.

“You mourn a shadow that still walks the halls.”

You snorted, grabbing your slippers. “It’s called missing someone, you dramatic overgrown lizard.”

“Hmph. You sound like him.”

You smirked. “That’s probably why we work.”

Chaire rumbled low with satisfaction, then receded a little, giving you space again, but still there—always there.

You shuffled into the adjacent sitting room, the morning still hush and quiet. The hearth was cold, but the scent of jasmine tea still clung faintly to the stone from last night’s cup.

You stared at the chair Xaden always used. His book was still there, a ribbon marking his place. His cloak, heavy and lined with silver embroidery, was draped neatly across the back. And for a moment, you stood in the silence, one hand on your belly, the other pressed to your lips, still remembering the goodbye kiss.

“I know he’ll be back,” you whispered to your daughter. “But it doesn’t stop me from wanting him here now.”

She didn’t answer, not with a kick or a shift, but the warmth in your chest—the one that grew with every beat of your bonded dragons, every breath of peace you had fought for—wrapped around you and your little girl like a blanket.

You breathed in, let the moment settle, and whispered again—this time to both of them.

“We’ll wait for you, love.”

It started with a slow, nagging pressure low in your abdomen—a gentle but persistent reminder that your bladder was, once again, under siege. You sighed, staring up at the ceiling from where you lay curled in bed, blankets twisted loosely around your legs, your hand resting protectively over your belly.

“Seriously?” you muttered to no one in particular.

Your daughter gave you a solid little kick in response, just under your ribs, like she was proud of the inconvenience.

“Okay, okay. I’m going.”

With another sigh—one that felt far too dramatic for how early it still was—you threw the covers back and swung your legs off the side of the bed. The floor was cool beneath your feet, the room dimly lit by the gentle morning glow filtering in through the tall windows. You shuffled toward the bathroom with all the grace of someone five months pregnant and thoroughly over being interrupted by their own bladder five times a night.

You muttered under your breath as you walked, “You’re lucky I love you, little shadowling.”

She responded with a stretch that made you pause halfway across the room, pressing a hand to your side as you breathed through it.

“Just wait until you’re born,” you warned her softly, groggy but amused. “I’m waking you up every two hours just to say hi.”

The trip to the bathroom was short, but the moment you finally sat down, you exhaled like it was the greatest relief the world had to offer. And honestly, at that moment—it was.

You rested your head against the cool wall for a second, eyes fluttering shut, already counting the hours until Xaden would return. Just twelve more. Twelve very long hours. He’d better come back with chocolate, or pastries. Or chocolate-covered pastries.

Once done, you washed your hands slowly, pausing to glance up at your reflection in the mirror. Your hair was a little wild from sleep, your eyes soft with exhaustion, but glowing in that warm, strange way pregnancy brought. Your hand settled again on the curve of your belly, thumb stroking gently across your shirt.

“Okay,” you whispered to your daughter. “We peed. Can we go back to sleep now?”

Another kick.

You snorted.

“Didn’t think so.”

You padded barefoot out of the bathroom, still adjusting the robe wrapped loosely around you. The sky outside had started to brighten just enough to bathe the room in pale morning light, and despite how early it was, you already felt that familiar tug to do something.

Your eyes drifted toward Xaden’s desk, where a stack of papers sat in their usual, stubbornly neat arrangement—his handwriting sharp and angular across the pages. He’d left them open again, probably planning to finish reviewing them before the council meeting.

“Just a peek,” you murmured to yourself as you passed by the bed and peeled off your robe.

You reached for the long tunic you���d worn yesterday, tugging it over your head with one hand while the other reached for the closest parchment. The fabric clung stubbornly around your baby bump, making you huff and wiggle until it finally slid into place—crooked, but good enough for now.

Balancing on one foot, trying to shove your legs into a pair of leggings, you scanned the heading on the first sheet. It looked like a report from the southern provinces—likely some political reshuffling in one of the border cities. You narrowed your eyes as you tried to tug the leggings higher, hopping once to get them over your hips.

“Why do these feel tighter every single day?” you muttered, yanking them up in frustration.

Your daughter responded with a pointed kick, right against your ribs.

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumbled, glancing down at your belly. “I know. I’m aware of your opinion on leggings.”

You gave up trying to adjust the waistband and turned your attention back to the documents.

Another set caught your eye—these ones detailed notes in Xaden’s handwriting about Tyrrendor’s post-war infrastructure plans. He’d scrawled your name beside a note about “civilian outreach coordination,” followed by a question mark and the word proposal? next to it.

Your heart fluttered.

He hadn’t even mentioned it to you yet, but clearly, he was thinking about including you more in his council work. Or maybe he hadn’t decided whether to bring it up. Typical Xaden—wanting to make sure everything was lined up before involving you.

You leaned on the edge of the desk, fingers brushing the edge of the parchment as you smiled softly to yourself.

“You’re lucky I love you,” you muttered again, more fondly this time.

From the back of your mind, Chaire stirred lazily.

“He’s trying to protect your peace. You know this.”

“I do,” you answered silently, glancing toward the door where he’d disappeared hours ago. “But I’m not made of glass.”

“No. You’re made of fire.”

You smirked, pushing off the desk and finally pulling your tunic into something that resembled a straight line across your body. You didn’t feel entirely ready for the day—but standing there, wearing his clothes, reading his thoughts inked into paper, and carrying the child you created together…

You felt exactly where you were meant to be.

The hallway was quiet as you stepped out of the bedroom, one hand pressed to your lower back, the other resting gently over your belly. You took a steadying breath, brushing a few loose strands of hair from your face as you made your way toward the stairs. The stone beneath your feet was warm where sunlight filtered in through the stained glass windows, casting delicate colours across the hallway floor like a mosaic come alive.

Chaire rumbled faintly at the back of your mind. “You’re tired. Rest would be wiser.”

“I just want tea,” you murmured back, pressing a hand to your side as your daughter nudged beneath your ribs again, as if to echo his sentiment.

The staircase curved gently downward, the polished wood catching the early morning light just enough to make you squint. You gripped the banister with your right hand and started the descent carefully, already envisioning that first comforting sip of something warm and sweet in the kitchen below.

You were halfway down when your foot caught the edge of your too-long leggings.

The slip happened in an instant.

Your heel slid forward, socks offering no resistance against the smooth step, and your balance tilted sharply. You reached instinctively for the banister, but the momentum had already shifted. You let out a startled yelp—less panic, more frustration—as you slid down the last five stairs on your backside, bumping hard with each one.

“Dammit—ow—ow—okay—ow!”

By the time you landed at the bottom with a graceless thud, your hair had half fallen out of its tie, your tunic had ridden up your thighs, and your pride was a little bruised. Your daughter gave a startled kick in protest, and you hissed through your teeth, both hands immediately flying to your stomach.

“I’m fine,” you breathed, more to her than yourself, heart racing. “We’re fine. Just… a very undignified descent.”

Chaire surged into your mind, shadowy and sharp. “What happened?”

“I tripped.”

“You fell.” His voice was ice and thunder now, full of sudden rage and alarm. “Where is Xaden?”

You groaned, sitting up slowly. “He’s not here, remember? Long meetings. Twelve hours of boring king things. I’m okay.”

“You’re not allowed on stairs alone anymore.”

You let out a breathless laugh and rubbed your hip where it had taken the brunt of the impact. “Noted. Add it to the list of forbidden activities next to lifting anything heavier than a pastry.”

You placed one hand against the wall and slowly pushed yourself to your feet, biting down hard on your bottom lip as a sharp throb pulsed through your left knee. The pain radiated outward like lightning beneath your skin—hot, stabbing, and immediate.

You inhaled shakily. “Okay,” you muttered, testing your weight on that leg.

The second your foot hit the floor, a bolt of pain lanced through your knee so fiercely it stole the breath from your lungs. You gasped and stumbled, gripping the edge of the banister to stay upright.

“Shit—” you breathed, squeezing your eyes shut.

The pain didn’t fade—it pulsed, deep and angry, making your vision blur for a moment. Your other leg trembled slightly just from compensating, and your palm was slick with sweat against the wooden rail.

Then Chaire surged into your mind, his presence sharp and immediate, his voice a growl at the base of your skull.

“You will not move. Do you hear me?”

You gritted your teeth. “I’m fine—”

“You are not. I felt the jolt through your entire body.” His voice dropped, like thunder rolling over stone. “I’ve already sent word through Chradh.”

You blinked. “What—wait—Chradh?”

“Garrick’s dragon. He will rouse Brennan.” A pause. “And Mira, likely, though I expect her to arrive with fire and fury once she hears you fell down the stairs pregnant and alone.”

Despite the pain, you groaned, slumping back against the wall. “Perfect. That’s exactly what I need. A full Sorrengail sibling intervention before breakfast.”

“You should have listened.”

You rolled your eyes even as another sharp throb made you wince. “Thank you, Chaire.”

“Don’t thank me. Don’t move.” His voice dropped to something gentler, almost concerned. “Keep your hand on your belly. Let me feel her.”

You did, breathing steadily as your fingers found the soft rise beneath your tunic. Your daughter was still, but there—safe, quiet. You exhaled slowly in relief.

“Okay,” you whispered to her. “Help’s coming.”

The sharp pain in your knee hadn’t dulled even a fraction. Every time you shifted your weight, it shot through you in jagged bursts, leaving you breathless. You let out a soft groan, pressing your forehead against the cool banister, the weight of your body leaning on it as if it could somehow offer comfort.

"Fuck..." you whispered under your breath, fighting the urge to cry out. The discomfort was so intense that it felt like it was seeping into your bones, radiating outward until it was all-consuming. You bit down on your lip to stop from making any louder sounds, not wanting to cause alarm—but it was nearly impossible.

Chaire's presence flooded your mind once again, his shadows tightening around you as though to shield you from the overwhelming pain. “You need to remain still. Brennan will be here soon. Just hold on.”

You clenched your teeth, shaking your head. "I can't just sit here," you rasped, though your body wanted nothing more than to remain immobile. "I can't—"

The shadows around you shifted, dark and protective. “You must.” His voice was firm, but there was a quiet, unmistakable undercurrent of concern that you hadn’t missed. “You don’t realize how much damage you’ve done, but I do. Moving could make it worse.”

The words hit you like a cold slap. You hadn’t thought about it that way. You were too distracted by the pain, by the pressure, by the helplessness of the situation. Your knee had taken the brunt of your fall, and now, even trying to stand still, your body screamed for you to do something—anything.

Another groan tore from you, this one involuntary, a soft but desperate noise as the ache in your knee flared again. It felt like your leg was on fire, the raw, unbearable sensation making your head swim.

You felt faint for a moment, closing your eyes as you leaned a little more heavily into the banister, trying to steady yourself.

“Brennan is coming. He’ll help you.” Chaire's voice was calm, reassuring, but even that couldn't mask the raw frustration behind it. “You’re strong—but this is a different kind of hurt. Don’t fight it. Just wait.”

You nodded slowly, your free hand resting on your belly once more, grounding yourself. It was a strange comfort, the small movements of your daughter inside of you, reminding you that she was there. Safe, still with you.

But the pain… it didn’t let up. It was constant, almost like a beat in your body, pulsing in time with your heart, every throb a reminder of how out of control you were right now. A reminder of how vulnerable you felt.

"Please," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. "Please... hurry..."

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway, and your heart skipped in anticipation, even though the pain hadn’t dulled in the slightest. The shadows around you seemed to tense as they drew closer, a slight ripple of movement across the floor, signalling the arrival of help.

First, you heard Garrick’s voice, sharp and panicked, as it carried through the doorframe.

“What the hell happened?” His boots echoed off the stone floor as he stormed into the room, eyes wide with panic. “Why are you on the ground?” His gaze instantly found you, his expression morphing from fear to frantic concern. “Are you okay?”

You managed a small shake of your head, still clutching the banister for support as you struggled to remain standing, only the wall and Chaire’s presence keeping you from collapsing entirely. “I… I slipped,” you forced out through gritted teeth, trying to downplay the pain, but the tremor in your voice betrayed you.

Garrick’s eyes flicked down to your knee and the way you were trying to hold yourself together, and his face paled. He knelt before you, one hand reaching out, but you could see the hesitation in his eyes as though afraid to touch you. “You’re hurt,” he said, his voice tight. His hands hovered in the air as if uncertain of what to do.

“Garrick,” you murmured, voice ragged from the pain, “It’s fine. Brennan… is he?”

Your words seemed to snap him out of his daze. He immediately looked behind him, just as Brennan and Mira stepped into view. Brennan was already moving toward you with a determined focus, his brows furrowed. He shot Garrick a sharp look, a silent command that told him not to panic.

Mira was right behind him, her expression tight with concern but also full of control. She glanced at you, her eyes scanning your body quickly. “What happened?” she asked, her tone measured, though the worry was clearly there.

Garrick didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached out, his hands shaking slightly as he moved to your leg. “What the hell, YN?” His voice was thick with distress. “You could’ve called for help! Why are you even up right now?” He turned back to Brennan, looking like he was about to explode, and then back to you. “Don’t tell me you’re still going to try to walk on this thing.”

You barely had time to respond before Brennan was kneeling beside you, his strong hands moving to your knee with the skill of someone who’d dealt with injuries more than once. His eyes were dark with concern as he gently prodded at the swollen joint, assessing the damage.

“You shouldn’t have moved at all,” Brennan muttered, his voice low, though still calm. “Let me see—”

“Hold on,” Mira interjected, stepping closer and kneeling beside you. She brushed a hand along your arm, her touch gentle but firm, before she met your gaze. “How bad is it, YN? What exactly happened?”

“It—” you winced, barely able to speak as Brennan moved your leg, his hands steady but still making your knee flare with pain. “It’s just my knee. I… slipped down the stairs. It’s just pain… it’s bad but I—I think I just twisted it—”

“Twisted it?!” Garrick was almost shouting now, panic evident on his face. “Do you realize what you’re saying right now? YN, you could’ve torn something—hell, you could’ve fractured your knee! You need to be on a bed, you shouldn’t be—”

Mira shot him a sharp look, her brows raised. “Garrick, stop. Yelling won’t help.”

His mouth opened in protest, but Brennan laid a hand on his shoulder, his gaze still locked on you. “We need to get her to the table,” he said, voice commanding. “The damage to her knee doesn’t seem to be permanent, but we won’t know for sure until I can get a better look. We’ll need ice, and we need to stabilize it.”

“I can walk,” you insisted, gritting your teeth as you straightened up a little, determined to prove you could handle this. But the second you tried to shift your weight again, the pain flared even stronger, and your vision blurred. “I just—”

“No,” Garrick interrupted sharply. “No, you can’t. Not like this. Please—don’t do that to yourself.” He glanced over at Brennan, who had already started to stand. “Help her, Brennan. Please.”

Brennan nodded, already lifting you carefully, making sure to keep your knee straight. His touch was steady, his grip sure as he helped you move to the nearby chair, sitting you down gently. Garrick hovered beside you, his worry still evident, and Mira stayed behind, eyes calculating as she assessed your condition.

"Just breathe," Brennan said, a slight edge to his voice as he worked swiftly, applying the first layers of care. "We’ll have you taken care of, YN. I’ll make sure of it."

Garrick didn’t move. His eyes never left you, still holding onto the lingering panic. And for a moment, despite all the chaos, you felt like everything was about to be okay—because they were here.

A sharp, involuntary whimper tore from you as Brennan gently pressed his hands against your knee, the pain flaring again. It was so intense that it felt like it was swallowing you whole, making your vision swim and your breaths come in shallow, desperate gasps. Every tiny movement, even the gentlest touch, made the ache shoot up through your entire body.

“I—I’m sorry,” you stammered, biting your lip to hold back the next cry that threatened to escape. You felt so vulnerable, so exposed, and the pain made it harder to keep a grip on your composure.

Brennan’s expression softened, and though his hands were still steady, you could feel the concentration in his movements. “You’re fine,” he reassured you, his voice low and steady, though it held the usual undertone of intensity you were used to from him. “I’m going to fix this. Just stay with me.”

He had the calmness of someone used to being in control of chaotic situations. His hands pressed against your swollen knee, warmth and power radiating from them. You could feel the subtle pull of magic, the familiar sense of healing energy flowing from him, but it didn’t immediately erase the pain. It took time. You clenched your teeth harder, trying to breathe through it as his magic began to settle around your knee.

A sob broke free from your chest despite your best efforts to hold it in. “Brennan—please,” you whispered, a tear slipping down your cheek. It felt as though your knee were on fire, a blaze that would never die down. “It—hurts so much…”

Brennan’s expression softened further, and he shot a quick glance at Garrick, who was standing helplessly off to the side. “I know,” he said quietly, his voice so soothing it almost didn’t match the intensity of the situation. “But I’m here, YN. Let me help you.”

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as his hands shifted slightly, the light touch of his fingers sending waves of soothing, healing energy through your leg. You could feel his magic, like a warm current flowing through your muscles, coaxing them to relax. For a moment, the worst of the pain started to fade, replaced by a dull ache that was easier to manage. But it wasn’t enough to make the pain disappear entirely.

“You’re doing great,” Brennan encouraged gently, though there was a subtle strain in his voice as he worked through the damage, fixing what he could. “Just breathe with me. Let go of the tension. You’ll be okay.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to breathe evenly, but each exhale came out shaky. The pain ebbed, bit by bit, until it was more manageable. It felt like a steady, pulsating throb in your knee rather than the searing agony from earlier. Even though you still felt weak and vulnerable, the raw intensity was starting to recede, like the worst of the storm had passed.

“Better?” Brennan asked quietly, his hands still on your knee, though the pressure had lessened a little.

You opened your eyes slowly, your body still trembling from the effort to stay still, to breathe through it. “Yeah,” you whispered hoarsely. “It’s not… as bad. But—” You stopped yourself, knowing you didn’t want to push him too far.

“Good,” he said, nodding in satisfaction, though he didn’t pull his hands away just yet. “I’ve stabilized it for now, but we’ll need to keep the weight off of it for a while. We’ll get you some ice and proper support, okay?”

You nodded, still holding onto the chair as if it were the only thing keeping you from breaking into a million pieces. “Thank you,” you murmured, your voice soft, trying to pull yourself back together.

Brennan’s gaze softened, and he finally let go, standing up as he stepped back to let you settle. His hands were warm, the energy still lingering in the air, but you could tell by the slight furrow in his brow that he knew this wasn’t over.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he said with a small, tight smile. “We’ll need to do a full check-up once you’re able to move a bit. But for now, just keep it elevated and stay off it as much as you can.”

Garrick was still watching you, his expression a mixture of relief and concern. “You’re sure she’s okay, Brennan?”

Brennan nodded, but his gaze didn’t leave you. “She’ll be okay. It’ll just take a little time to heal completely.” He turned to Garrick then. “Go get the ice. We’ll need to stabilize it further before she moves around much more.”

As Garrick hurried off to fetch the ice, Brennan met your eyes again, his voice softer now. “You’re going to be alright, YN. I’ve got you.”

You nodded again, still feeling the weight of what had just happened settling in your chest. The pain was still there, but you were no longer alone in it.

You looked up at Brennan, the last remnants of the pain fading into a dull throb, and your voice was quiet, almost hesitant. “Brennan…” You paused, not wanting to sound too pleading, but the thought of Xaden hovering over you made your chest tighten. “Please… don’t tell Xaden about this.”

Brennan’s gaze flicked to you, his brow furrowing slightly in concern. “YN, you know Xaden will be worried. You’re hurt. He has a right to know.”

“I know,” you replied quickly, shaking your head just a little. “But he’s already worried enough. I don’t want him to freak out.” You winced at the thought of Xaden’s ever-watchful eyes on you, his constant vigilance when it came to your safety. “He hovers enough as it is. The moment he knows I’m hurt, he’ll be right there, demanding I stay in bed for days, treating me like I can’t do anything myself.” You let out a soft sigh, almost frustrated. “I just want a little peace right now.”

Brennan studied you for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the balance between loyalty to Xaden and his care for you. He exhaled slowly, his shoulders dropping in resignation. “I get it. I won’t tell him,” he said softly, though there was a note of caution in his tone. “But I want you to promise me that if it gets worse, if you start feeling any more pain or if something feels off, you’ll let him know. No hiding it. He’ll just worry more later if you do.”

You nodded, relief flooding through you. “I promise. But for now, please, just let me deal with it myself. I can handle this.” You glanced over at Garrick, who had returned with ice, and then back at Brennan. “I just… I want to feel normal, you know?”

Brennan’s gaze softened, his shoulders relaxing as he gave you a small, understanding nod. “Alright. But remember, YN, I’m here if you need me. I can help, even if it’s just keeping things from getting out of hand.”

“I know. Thank you,” you whispered, feeling the weight of your request and the comfort that came from his understanding.

Brennan's hands were gentle but steady as he adjusted his focus to your stomach, his fingers barely brushing against the fabric of your shirt. He seemed to sense your tension, the way you held your breath as he worked, but his expression was professional, calm. He wasn’t here to make you feel uncomfortable—only to make sure everything was okay.

"YN, I need to check something," he said quietly, his voice steady but soft, as though trying to ease any nervousness you might have. He didn't look at you directly as he spoke, but his gaze remained intent on his task, ready for anything that might require his attention.

You swallowed, nodding slowly, still feeling the residual unease in the pit of your stomach. The idea of someone examining you made you self-conscious, but you trusted Brennan. You had always trusted him, especially in moments like these when you knew he was only concerned about your health and well-being.

He pulled your shirt up just a little, enough to reveal the curve of your abdomen, and his hands, warm and steady, hovered over your skin for a moment. You could feel the subtle weight of his gaze, and though his focus was completely on you, he wasn’t rushing, wasn’t making it uncomfortable. He was thorough, his touch careful as he gently pressed against your stomach.

His brow furrowed slightly as his hands moved in a slow, deliberate pattern. He wasn't speaking now, his attention fully on feeling for any signs of discomfort or anything that might be out of the ordinary. His fingers pressed in just enough to assess, but not hard enough to hurt, moving over the sensitive skin and the muscle beneath.

It wasn’t just your injury that had him concerned—he’d been worried about you ever since you’d gotten pregnant, constantly keeping an eye on your health, knowing that every little detail mattered, especially now with everything that had happened. His mind was never far from your well-being.

The quiet in the room stretched for a few long moments, and the only sound was the soft rustle of your clothing and your steady breathing. You could feel your heart rate settle, the initial tension of having him examine you slowly easing away. He wasn’t just checking on your injury—there was a deeper concern for you, for the baby, for everything that had happened recently.

Finally, Brennan spoke, breaking the silence. "Everything seems alright for now, no signs of distress or anything abnormal," he said, his voice soft but reassuring. His fingers brushed one last time over your stomach, more for his own reassurance than anything else. "I’ll keep an eye on you, YN, but right now, it’s just a precaution. We’ll need to take it easy, but everything should be fine."

You let out a slow, quiet breath, nodding. “Thank you.” It was more than just for the check-up—it was for him being here, for being someone you could count on, even when things felt uncertain.

Brennan’s eyes softened, and he gave you a small nod before helping you adjust your shirt back into place, his fingers lingering only for a moment longer. "If you need anything, just let me know. I’ll make sure you’re alright."

Garrick entered the room with a purposeful stride, the ice pack in his hands carefully wrapped in cloth, his brow furrowed in that familiar, protective way he always wore. He glanced between you and Brennan, his expression softening slightly when he saw the way you were sitting, the faint relief visible on your face.

“Everything alright?” he asked, his voice thick with concern but also an undertone of the calm assurance he always carried. His eyes lingered for a moment on your stomach, but then moved quickly back to Brennan, seeking confirmation from the mender about your condition.

Brennan met his gaze and nodded, his hands still lingering near you, but his voice was steady. "She's stable now. The leg's been treated, and no immediate complications with the pregnancy or anything else. Just needs some rest."

Garrick seemed to let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his shoulders relaxing just slightly as he moved closer to you. His attention shifted to your knee again, then to your face. "You sure you’re alright? Don’t hesitate to say if something’s off."

You nodded, giving him a weak smile, though the tremor in your voice betrayed the discomfort still lingering beneath the surface. "I’m okay for now… just need to take it easy." Your words were a bit quieter than usual, and even though you were trying to reassure him, you could see the concern that hadn’t quite left his eyes.

Garrick crouched down beside you, his hand reaching out to gently rest on your shoulder. His grip was firm, grounding, but the tenderness in it made the moment feel surprisingly intimate, like a shield around you. "We’ll take care of you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, and then his gaze flicked over to Brennan. "Anything else I can do?"

Brennan shook his head, stepping back a little. "Just keep her comfortable. I’ll make sure we get the proper support in place when she’s ready to move."

Garrick nodded, then looked back to you, his thumb brushing lightly over your shoulder as he stood up. "Alright, I’ll grab the ice and make sure we get everything set up," he murmured, moving to do so. His movements were purposeful, but there was a softness to them that told you he wasn’t just acting out of duty—he genuinely cared.

You leaned back slightly, closing your eyes for a brief moment, feeling the weight of everything catch up to you. It wasn’t just the physical pain that was hard to handle. It was the constant reminder of how everything had shifted, how much more delicate things felt now. But with Brennan and Garrick here, it felt a little easier to breathe, a little less overwhelming.

The evening dragged on slowly, and as the time passed, the exhaustion in your body began to catch up with you. You had tucked yourself into bed, the long, soft sleeping gown you wore flowing over your legs, its fabric comfortable against your skin, but its full length serving as a reminder to keep the swelling hidden. Your knee still ached in the background, but the pain had dulled enough for you to focus on the thoughts swirling in your head, trying to ignore the way your body screamed for rest.

You had convinced Brennan, Garrick, and Mira not to tell Xaden, but now, with each passing minute, the dread of him finding out was gnawing at you. You hated the idea of worrying him even more, especially after everything he'd been through with the revolution and his new role. The weight of his affection, of his constant hovering, had always been something you appreciated. But right now, you needed space, needed time to gather yourself, and you feared what his reaction would be.

As you laid in the quiet, listening to the muffled sounds of the household below, your mind kept drifting back to the moment with Brennan and Garrick. You hadn't been entirely honest with yourself, either. You were scared. You didn't know what would happen next. And as the door to your bedroom creaked open, your heart skipped a beat.

Xaden stepped inside.

The soft glow of the lamp in the corner illuminated his tall form as he entered. His dark hair was tousled, likely from a long day spent with the weight of leadership on his shoulders. He had his usual confident stance, but there was something softer about him now, something that made him appear more human, less like the warrior-king he had to become.

When his eyes met yours, a small smile tugged at his lips, though there was a glimmer of concern there as well. "You’re in bed already?" he asked, his voice low and tired but warm. "I thought I’d find you up and about. How’s the day been?"

You managed to force a smile, trying to keep your voice steady. "It’s been... fine. Just tired. How was your meeting?"

Xaden took a few steps toward the bed, his eyes scanning your face, noticing the way you were tucked under the covers. It wasn't a typical sight; usually, you were already up moving around by this time, but tonight there was something different in the way you lay there, almost as if you were retreating from him.

"The meeting was long," he said, his tone carrying a bit of weariness, but he didn’t sit down immediately. His gaze flickered briefly to the way you were holding your body, the way your legs were tucked in, hidden under the covers. He was careful not to ask questions right away, but you could feel the tension in the air—his senses sharpening, just waiting for a hint of what was wrong.

You forced yourself to sit up a little, pushing down the urge to lay back down and hide everything from him. "I didn’t want to bother you while you were busy," you said, your words coming out too quickly, as if trying to convince both him and yourself. "It’s just been a quiet evening. Resting."

Xaden didn’t buy it. His eyes softened with that familiar intensity as he slowly approached the edge of the bed, lowering himself to sit beside you. He gently reached for your hand, his touch warm against your skin as his fingers brushed over yours.

"YN," he said softly, his voice a low rumble. "What’s going on? You look like you’ve been through something today. Are you sure you’re alright?"

A lump formed in your throat, and you could feel the truth threatening to spill out of you. But instead, you swallowed it down, fighting the wave of emotions threatening to overtake you. The last thing you wanted was for him to carry more burden.

"I’m fine," you lied, even as the words tasted bitter in your mouth. "Just... tired."

He didn’t let go of your hand, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly, but he didn’t press further. Xaden was patient, always willing to wait for you to be ready to open up, but you could see the worry flickering beneath his gaze.

"You know you don’t have to hide things from me, right?" he said softly, his voice full of that rare vulnerability you didn’t often hear from him. "I’m here, no matter what." He paused for a moment before adding with a teasing smile, "Though, if you want to stay in bed all day to avoid me, I’ll have to start getting creative with ways to get you up."

His attempt at humour wasn’t lost on you. It made you want to laugh, but instead, you just smiled softly, feeling a wave of affection for him. "I’m not hiding from you," you said quietly, squeezing his hand. "I just need some rest. That’s all."

Xaden didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he nodded, squeezing your hand back gently. "Alright," he said, his voice a little more serious now. "But if you need me for anything… I’m right here. Always."

You could feel the weight of his words, the sincerity in them. But the knot in your stomach remained, the secret you were holding onto threatening to break free, even though you were doing everything you could to keep it hidden.

As he leaned in to kiss your forehead, you closed your eyes, wishing you could take away all the concern in his expression. But for now, you were too scared to let him in on the truth. Too scared to let him see that, despite everything, you felt like you were barely holding it all together.

As Xaden got up to change, the soft rustling of clothes filled the air. His movements were purposeful, the long day evident in the way he removed his clothes, his tiredness seeping through. You tried to focus on your breathing, calming yourself, but there was a weight hanging between you that you couldn’t shake. He was coming back to bed now, and you'd have to keep pretending, keep hiding the truth.

He climbed back into the bed with an almost serene calmness, his body shifting on the mattress as he made himself comfortable. His warmth radiated, and you closed your eyes for a second, hoping to let the moment settle before he caught onto something.

But then, as he shifted closer, his leg brushed against yours, and his expression immediately changed. His hand froze, his brows furrowing as he gently prodded at your wrapped leg beneath the covers. He pulled the blanket back, exposing the bandage, and his eyes narrowed.

"What the hell is this?" His voice was thick with disbelief, a low growl forming in the back of his throat as he pulled the covers back fully, revealing the wrap and the ice pack that still lay at your knee.

You froze, a pang of panic striking your chest as you scrambled to think of a way out of this, but there was no getting past it now.

“YN," Xaden’s tone shifted from the soft, tired warmth to something far more intense. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?" His words were laced with a mixture of anger and genuine concern, his fingers gripping the edge of the blanket as his eyes snapped to yours. “Did Brennan know about this? Garrick?”

You could see the flicker of frustration behind his gaze, and for a moment, it almost felt like he was on the verge of losing control. His chest rose and fell as if he was trying to control his breathing, but it wasn’t working. He was slipping into that protective mode you knew so well—like a lion pacing its cage.

“Tell me you didn’t let them keep this from me,” he growled, his voice dangerously low now. “I’m not... I’m not doing this, YN. I’m not letting you hide this from me.” His eyes flashed with anger, and you could see his jaw clench, his hands still gripping the blankets like a lifeline.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady yourself. “I didn’t want to worry you,” you said, your voice a little shaky. “I didn’t want to stress you out more, especially with everything you’ve been dealing with—”

“No,” Xaden snapped, his voice cutting you off sharply. His gaze turned into a storm as he leaned forward, his hand moving to your face to gently tilt your chin upward, forcing you to look into his eyes. “You don’t get to make that decision for me. You don’t get to protect me from what’s going on with you. I’m your partner, YN. I’m supposed to know. I should’ve known about this hours ago.” His voice dropped, soft but unmistakably furious. “I’ll kill Garrick.” The words were spoken with such cold fury that you could feel the weight of them in your bones, his protective instincts roaring to life.

You winced as his hands moved away from your face, and his eyes flashed with something that could only be described as pissed-off mama hen mode. He sat up, staring at the ceiling as if trying to gather his thoughts, his fingers tapping against his leg in frustration.

His gaze landed back on you, softer but still filled with that unrelenting concern. “I’m really pissed at you right now,” he admitted, his voice quieter but still edged with irritation. “And I know you’re going to tell me I’m overreacting, but damn it, I don’t care. You didn’t have to handle this on your own. Not when you’re pregnant. Not when we’re supposed to be in this together.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat, the weight of his emotions hitting you harder than expected. You had wanted to protect him, but now, it felt like you had failed in a way you couldn’t explain.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the weight of your apology filling the room. “I didn’t want to cause more stress. I just... I thought I could handle it myself.”

Xaden’s expression softened just a little, but the anger still lingered in his eyes. He didn’t say anything at first, just leaned back against the pillows, his face still etched with that protective fury. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

"You think I wouldn’t have noticed? That I wouldn’t have felt you trying to hide something from me?" His voice was less sharp now, more resigned, though you could still hear the hurt in it. "You can’t do this to me, YN. You can’t protect me from everything."

You nodded quietly, still processing the depth of his frustration, his love, and the pressure of his care for you. You could feel the weight of his words, and the fear that came with not wanting him to feel burdened.

He was quiet for a moment, then slowly turned to face you, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’m not mad about you being hurt, YN," he murmured, the anger finally leaving his voice. "I’m mad that you didn’t let me be there for you when you needed me.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling the warmth of his touch despite everything. “I’ll try not to do it again,” you said softly, the words almost like a promise.

“I hope so,” Xaden said, his voice tender but firm. He leaned down, kissing your forehead gently. "But just... promise me you won’t shut me out. Promise me that you’ll let me be there next time."

"I promise," you whispered, feeling the weight of his words sink into your soul, a promise to yourself and to him that you would never again keep him at arm’s length.

Xaden held you close for a moment, his arms wrapped around you as if he never wanted to let go. The warmth of his body and his steady heartbeat filled the silence, and for a brief moment, everything felt like it would be okay. Even with the complications, the chaos, and the pressure of everything around you, you knew you weren’t alone. And that, in itself, was all you needed to feel safe again.

After a few moments of silence, Xaden’s grip on you loosened just slightly, though he still held you close. He seemed to calm, but the concern in his eyes never fully ebbed away. He sighed deeply, his fingers gently tracing small circles on your arm as if trying to calm himself just as much as he was trying to reassure you.

“How are you feeling?” His voice was soft, but you could hear the weight of his worry in it, the anxiety that had never fully left him even when he tried to hide it. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of pain, any sign that you were still suffering from the fall or the strain on your body.

His gaze softened when he noticed the subtle, protective way you clutched your stomach, as if instinctively shielding your unborn daughter from any harm. His eyes flickered there for a moment, the worry in them intensifying. "And how’s she doing? Our little girl... how is she?" His voice cracked just slightly on the last part, the vulnerability in it catching you off guard.

His fingers brushed lightly over your stomach, as if to feel for any sign of movement or any indication that your daughter was okay. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, and you could see how badly he wanted to hear that everything was fine. The thought of something happening to you or her seemed to terrify him in a way nothing else ever had.

“Xaden…” you started softly, looking up into his face, trying to reassure him the best way you knew how. “I’m okay. I’m sore, but nothing feels wrong. Our daughter... she’s okay. I can feel her moving around.”

He nodded, visibly relieved, though the worry never fully left his eyes. "Good," he whispered, as if to himself. His thumb brushed lightly against your stomach once more before he looked back up at you, his jaw tight with the remnants of his fear. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overreact. But after what happened to you before… and everything we’ve been through… I just…" He trailed off, shaking his head, unable to fully explain how terrified he had been when he first saw the wrap around your leg.

You gently cupped his face, the warmth of your touch pulling his gaze back to yours. "You don’t need to apologize," you murmured, giving him a reassuring smile despite the tightness in your chest. "I know you’re scared, Xaden. And I’m scared too. But we’re going to be okay. Our daughter’s going to be okay." You pressed your hand over your stomach for emphasis, a quiet promise that you’d keep both of you safe.

His hand rested on top of yours, and for a moment, you both just sat there in silence, the air thick with all the unspoken words between you. Xaden’s thumb traced over your knuckles, his gaze never leaving your face. It was like he was trying to memorize every inch of you, as though he needed to imprint the memory of this moment into his mind in case things got worse.

“I’m just so scared, YN," he whispered after a long while. His voice was barely audible, raw and filled with a kind of desperation that made your heart ache for him. "I don’t ever want to lose either of you. I can’t imagine what I’d do without you."

You felt your heart flutter in your chest, a wave of love and compassion sweeping over you. You reached out, pulling him in for a deep, slow kiss, the kind that reassured both of you. When you pulled back, you looked into his eyes and whispered, “You won’t lose us. We’re right here with you, Xaden. And we always will be.”

He held you tighter, resting his forehead against yours, as if grounding himself in the reassurance you offered. “Promise me,” he whispered urgently, his voice thick with emotion. “Promise me you won’t shut me out. Promise me we’ll get through everything together. I’m not strong enough to do this without you.”

“I promise,” you whispered back, holding him close, your voice steady despite the weight of his words. “We’re in this together. Always.”

The tension in his body seemed to melt away as he relaxed into you, the fear still there but soothed by your words. For now, he could hold onto that promise, and the reassurance that no matter what, you’d face it all side by side.

BONUS- 3 MONTHS LATER

The late afternoon sun cast a warm amber glow through the gauzy curtains of your bedroom, bathing the space in soft, golden light. You were curled up in bed, propped against a mountain of pillows with a book open in your lap, though you hadn’t turned the page in nearly ten minutes. You were too distracted—by the subtle tightness in your back, the persistent ache in your hips, and the odd sensation low in your belly that kept fluttering and pulling in a way that felt… too rhythmic to ignore.

Across the room, Xaden sat in the armchair, shirtless, in worn black sweats, a stack of papers resting on one knee while his shadows flicked lazily at his shoulders and around the edges of the chair. His hair was slightly tousled from running his fingers through it in frustration, and his brow was furrowed in focus as he scribbled something onto the corner of a document.

You stared at him for a moment, watching the slight twitch in his jaw and the way his shoulders tensed every time the paperwork annoyed him. He looked beautiful like this—calm, focused, completely at home. And yet, here you were, heart pounding beneath your ribs.

“…Xaden?” you said softly, almost hesitant.

He glanced up immediately, the furrow in his brow smoothing as his dark eyes met yours. “Yeah, love?”

You closed your book slowly and rested it beside you, fingers fidgeting slightly over your bump as you bit your lower lip. “Do you remember what you told me? That I should always tell you if anything feels off?”

He stilled, eyes narrowing slightly, the papers forgotten as they slid off his knee. His attention sharpened instantly, his entire body alert like a shadow-laced predator. “Yes,” he said, voice low and steady. “Why? What’s wrong?”

You took a shaky breath, trying to find the words—trying to stay calm even as another low, pulling sensation rippled through your body. It wasn’t pain exactly. But it was building. And consistent.

“What would you say,” you began slowly, your voice soft but unflinching, “if I told you… that I think our daughter is coming early?”

The world held its breath.

Xaden stared at you, completely still. His shadows stilled too, like they'd heard your words and froze with them. Then, slowly, he stood from the chair, the papers falling to the floor unnoticed. His expression was unreadable for a long beat—caught between shock, awe, and the sheer protective panic that only came when it involved you or your daughter.

“…What?”

A/N: I was not intending it to get so long but eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek Credit to @empyreanevents for the divider

[sulumuns-dootah]

Can I request a headcanon of whb king (plus any other characters you want) reacting to gn mc avoiding them for as long as she can because mc got dared to by some random demon

WHB kings' reaction to MC avoiding them because of a dare

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

A/N: Hi! This was so fun to write since each king had a completelly different reaction ^^ Sorry for the long wait though t-t

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Oh, Satan doesn't like this at all

The moment he notices your suspiciously long absence, he's on the prowl

Where are you and why tf are you avoiding him?

He'll even send out Amy and his group to look for you and bring you to him

Hopefully he'll during his search find out about the dare

At least hopefully for you

Poor demon who dared you will find himself homeless after Satan in his demon form destroys his place

Once that's dealt with, the next time you go outisde, you come face to face with Satan, leaning back against his bike

"Talked to that mf. The dare's called off :)"

    ༺☆༻

Mammon notices that you haven't been around him much, but he just chalks it up to you being busy

He's okay with it, knowing that eventually you'll come back to him anyway

Besides, if you needed something, you'd surely call him

After finding out that it's a dare, he's also curious how long you'll be able to keep away from him

If he ever gets worried about you, he'll just send one of his nobles to check up on you

Once you're back to him, he's taking you out for a dinner to congratulate you on how long you lasted

    ༺☆༻

Leviathan knew from the beginning thanks to Foras

You don't even get to leave the Hades castle so it's easier for you to avoid him when you get a message from the devil who dared you that the dare is off

It doesn't take a genius to realise that the poor demon had been visited by His Majesty himself and forced to end your dare early

Most likely, if you video-called with him, he'll be gasping for air, hung by a noose

The next time you see Leviathan, he acts like nothing happened, but you can feel his piercing stare when you're not looking at him

He's most likely not sure how to punish you yet...

But once he does...

Oh boy, now comes the moment to avoid him for the sole sake of your survival

    ༺☆༻

Funny :)

You think you can avoid Beel? :)

I mean, technically you could do that by hanging around in the Abyssos castle, but even then you can't exactly avoid Beel

If Beel wants to see you, he'll come and see you

Doesn't matter where you are or what you're doing

Even if it means that he'll have to sneak through his own castle to escape Bael's wrath

And even more so, if he finds out about the dare...

Oops, he just reminded he meant to take you to this place and booked it in advance and can't cancel it

Sorry, guess you'll have to spend the whole month with him :)

I guess the rule with Beel is that the more you want him, the less he'll be around

(True story with my pulls for his cards tbh T-T)

    ༺☆༻

Belphie would probably realise that it's been a while since you were there when he woke up, but eh...

Maybe you're just busy doing your work

No sweat

That is until Beleth accidentally slips up about the dare

Oh?

Now that is something different

Prepare to start dreaming about him every night

That'll eventually make you come back...

And if not, don't worry...

Belphie's ability can bring you back anytime, so enjoy your time away from him before he decides this little game is over

    ༺☆༻

Keeping away from Asmo is honestly your day-to-day task, so I don't think there's much difference

That is until you realize that it's time for another annual king meeting

The real challenge becomes coming up with a good reason to excuse yourself from it

And all the nobles are helping you at this point

Sure, you could just not go, but Asmo might then leave the meeting to come and see you since he was so excited to meet you after so long

In the end Leviathan coems to save the day and hides you inside his coffin for as long as the need be

Phew

You're safe for another year

    ༺☆༻

To Lucifer, not seeing you for a long time is a good thing

It just means you're healthy and safe

But he does eventually start to miss you

And then Gamigin talks a bit too much and mentions that you've been avoiding Paradise Lost because of a dare

So whenever you need medical assistance one of the nobles has to do a house call

...

A house call?

That sounds unsanitary

Who even knows what germs and bacteria you might catch

Lucifer better make his way over to you for a surprise visit to make sure you're doing well

And no apples can save you from this doctor

[mashtatosworld]

the greatest gift

summary: it's your husband's first father's day

Jiyong was already curled up in bed, one arm tucked under his pillow, as he scrolled through his phone. You could hear the faint hum of the sound machine playing in the nursery, a soft white noise lullaby to help your baby sleep.

Father’s Day was going to be perfect.

You had everything planned - the surprise breakfast, the heartfelt gifts, the full day dedicated to celebrating Jiyong’s first year as a dad.

But life had other plans.

It started with a text at 11pm.

[agent]: Hey, just confirming your shoot tomorrow at 9am!

You frowned at your phone, heart dropping. Tomorrow?

“No, no, no- ” you whispered, quickly typing back.

[you] That was rescheduled, right?

[agent]: Nope. Still on the calendar.

You sat up in bed, panicked, already texting back.

[you] Cancel it. Please. I CAN’T miss tomorrow.

Jiyong's hand found your back, rubbing it soothingly. “What’s wrong?”

“My schedule’s messed up,” you mumbled. “But it’s fine. I’m fixing it.”

Your agent eventually sorted out the mistake, but the stress was already there. You sighed in relief, falling back into the pillows beside Jiyong, determined to get a good night’s sleep before the big day.

Of course, that dream didn't last.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

It was past midnight when your baby started babbling to herself happily in her crib. Then she got bored. Then she got loud.

“APPAAAAA!”

Jiyong, who was still awake as usual, smiled to himself before exchanging his phone for the baby monitor on his bedside table. He watched the screen, quietly laughing at the sight of his baby jumping up and down, holding onto the bars of her crib.

At this point, you'd been roused from your sleep, peeling one eye open with a reluctant grumble.

"What is it?"

“Someone's excited for Father’s Day.” he beamed, showing you the screen. "Look at her."

“Mm, that's your daughter,” you tutted, staring at the footage of her throwing a teddy across the room.

"Ours," He nodded, flicking the covers off and stepping into his slippers. You sighed and turned over, running a hand over your face.

Diva had got into a bad habit of expecting Jiyong to come get her every time she called for him. And since he was always up late, that included during the night - when you were sleeping - or at least trying to.

You could hear him shuffling around in the living room, accompanied by her tiny voice, as you drifted to sleep again, wondering how on earth you were going to get up in the morning to make breakfast and decorate the house.

At some point, he must have brought her into bed, because you spent the rest of the night being subjected to: tiny feet kicking you in the ribs, random hair pulling - Diva’s favourite sleep habit, and at one point she lay directly across Jiyong’s face.

Your saving grace was when your husband turned over in his sleep, trapping both of you under his arm like a human seatbelt.

At least she stopped moving after that.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

Despite the exhaustion, you woke up early, determined to make things right.

Jiyong deserved the best first Father’s Day ever.

You carefully slid out of bed, grabbed Diva - who was already rousing and humming to herself, and carried her to the kitchen.

“Alright, baby girl,” you whispered, kissing her chubby cheek. “We’re making pancakes for Appa.”

You set her in her high chair. She rubbed her sleepy eyes, still waking up, but you hoped your excitement would rub off on her.

Spraying whipped cream directly into her hands every so often definitely helped.

Pancakes were your thing. You made breakfast for your little family all the time, but today you’d make them extra special. You found the heart-shaped mould and set to work.

Everything was going fine - until your phone pinged.

[Delivery Update]: Your order is delayed. Expected arrival: Tomorrow.

“No, no, no - ” you groaned, clicking the link. The decorations and gift you ordered were not coming today.

Your heart sank.

No flowers. No banners. No custom gift.

And then -

You smelled it.

The pancakes.

Burning.

A second later, the fire alarm went off.

Diva clamped her hands over her ears, her little face scrunched in horror.

“Shit!” you yelped, grabbing a dishcloth and frantically fanning the smoke.

But the shrieking alarm didn’t stop.

Jiyong burst into the kitchen, half-asleep, hair standing up straight, and in full dad-panic mode. “What’s happening?! Is the house on fire?!”

“I ruined breakfast,” you cried. “And your gift isn’t coming today. And now I’ve woken up the whole neighbourhood - ”

Jiyong sighed, exasperated but amused, before calmly shutting off the alarm.

Then he scooped Diva into his arms, rocking her gently, before turning back to you.

“Jagi,” he murmured, pulling you into a warm hug. “It's okay. Father’s Day isn’t about perfect pancakes or gifts. It’s about spending the day together.”

You sniffled, still upset. “But I wanted it to be special.”

He kissed your temple. “It already is.” He jostled Diva slightly on his hip, grinning. “Look, here’s my favourite gift from you.”

Diva blinked at him. Then -

“Shit.”

Both of you froze.

Jiyong’s eyes widened. He turned to you slowly.

“Where,” he asked, stunned, “did she learn that?”

You covered your mouth, hiding your smile. “Oops.”

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

Although your plans had been thwarted by delivery delays, Jiyong knew how to make the best of a bad situation.

A family bike ride.

It wasn’t what you planned, but it turned out so much better.

Diva was strapped into the front seat of Jiyong’s bike, a pair of sunglasses covering half her face. She kicked her feet happily as he rode down the path, giggling every time he rang the bell.

“See, princess?” he cooed. “This is what Appa and Eomma used to do all the time.”

Diva squealed in delight, while you trailed behind them on your own bike, watching the two loves of your life share this moment.

You stopped at a small café for ice cream, parking the bikes as Jiyong headed inside to order.

That’s when you spotted a flower stall across the street.

Perfect.

You rushed over with your baby, quickly picking a fresh bouquet, and hurried back just as Jiyong stepped out with three cones - vanilla for Diva, mango for you, and strawberry for himself.

You discreetly passed her the flowers. “Give these to Appa.”

She took them - before immediately trading them for her ice cream the second Jiyong held out her cone.

“Oh, I see where your priorities are,” he teased, laughing as he took the flowers. He looked at you, eyes soft. “Thank you, jagi.”

“You deserve them.”

He kissed you, then turned to the baby in your arms, leaning close. “And you, Princess - you better not get ice cream all over Appa’s bike.”

Diva was already a sticky mess, ice cream dribbling down her chin. You burst out laughing when she shoved a handful of ice cream into his mouth.

“Yah - okay, okay, Appa gets it - ” he sputtered, wiping his face. "Thank you, my Princess."

"Aw, are you sharing with your Appa?" You coo to her, laughing at your husband's covered face.

Then she turned to you - smearing melted vanilla across your cheek with a delighted grin.

“Ah!” you shrieked, turning your face away from the attack, most of the ice cream going in your hair.

Jiyong smirked, carefully placing the flowers in the basket of his bike. “She’s just sharing, jagi.”

By the time you got home, she had passed out in the bike seat, her little hand still clutching the now-melted cone.

Jiyong carefully carried her inside, whispering, “Best Father’s Day ever.”

And despite all the disasters… you had to agree.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

short and sweet. i loved this request, i may re-write it at some point when i'm feeling better. lord today has drained me... hope everyone enjoys xx

taglist: @petersasteria, @mirahyun , @allthoughtsmindfull , @gdinthehouseee , @infinetlyforgotten , @redhoodedtoad , @kathaelipwse , @lxvemaze , @loveesiren , @sherrayyyyy , @getyoassoutthetrunk , @shieraseastarrs , @ctrldivinev , @xxxicddbr88 , @onyxmango , @tryingtolivelifeblog , @tulentiy , @bettelaboure , @maskedcrawford

[crushpunky]

how joe asked college!reader out

masterlist

Despite her 9 am Econ (thankfully) getting cancelled, y/n decided to keep her schedule consistent and go to Java Joe’s to get some work done before her afternoon classes. So, she woke herself up bright and early, threw on some sweatpants and made the trek downtown to her favorite coffee shop.

As soon as she entered, the intoxicating smell of coffee filled her lungs, immediately waking her up. Students scattered around the cafe, flaky pastries and steaming hot coffees sitting amongst laptops and homework. Over it all, some indie song played quietly in the background, giving the room a warmth that expanded further than just the temperature emanating from the espresso machine. Baristas milled about behind the bar, one of them coming up to greet y/n at the register before taking her order.

“Could I get a medium iced vanilla latte, please.” Y/n said, the barista nodding as she wrote her order down on one of the cups. Y/n dug through her backpack, looking for her wallet, when she was suddenly interrupted.

“I got it.” Someone said, stepping up to the counter next to her. “Just get me another of whatever she’s having.”

Y/n straightened, her brows furrowed as she turned to see Joe pulling his credit card out of his overstuffed wallet. His hair was damp, dripping onto his LSU football t-shirt, and a slight flush was in his cheeks as he looked over at her.

“Wait, no, I got it—” Y/n started, turning back to dig through her bag.

“I got it.” Joe said with a grin, inserting his card into the card reader. “It’s the least I can do after talking your ear off about Star Wars for the past month.”

“I…” Y/n sighed, the card reader buzzing that the transaction was complete. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Joe shrugged, putting his wallet back into the pocket of his sweatpants. Y/n made her way to her usual spot in the corner, Joe awkwardly trailing behind as he looked around at the space.

“What are you doing up so early? You know class was cancelled right?” Y/n asked as she slid into the corner booth. Joe stood opposite her, his hand resting on the edge of the table as he rocked back and forth on his heels.

“Yeah, just had a morning practice.” Joe said. “Thought I’d see if I could finally catch you here one time.”

“You’ve been trying to catch me here?” Y/n quirked her brow, smiling up at Joe, who chuckled awkwardly.

“Well… yeah.” Joe ran a hand through his hair. “You seem to be the coffee professional so… thought I’d learn from the best.”

“You flatter me.” Y/n shook her head, looking away from Joe’s intense gaze as she felt her cheeks warm. “You can sit down… if you want.”

“Oh yeah, thanks.” Joe said, sliding into the booth. His long legs brushed against her under the table, sending goosebumps along her skin.

“So… how was practice?” Y/n asked, propping her elbow up on the table to rest her chin in. Joe adjusted in his seat, his forearms resting on the table just inches away from hers.

“Good,” Joe nodded. “Just usual stuff. Wouldn’t want to bore you with the details.”

“You’d much rather bore me with Star Wars?” Y/n smirked, causing Joe’s brows to furrow.

“You like Star Wars!” Joe scoffed, causing y/n to giggle.

“I know,” y/n said, reaching across the table and resting a hand on his forearm lightly, “I was just kidding.”

A cheesy grin stretched across Joe’s lips at the gesture, a bit of pink even making it into his cheeks as the contact. Noticing his sudden flustered expression, y/n quickly retracted her hand back to herself, her eyes avoiding his.

“Y/n, iced lattes.” The barista called. Y/n went to stand, but Joe beat her to it, climbing out of his seat and quickly grabbing their drinks from the pickup area.

“Thank you.” Y/n sang as she took her drink from him, excitedly opening the straw before stabbing it through the lid. She took a sip, closing her eyes as the sweet, coffee goodness spread across her tongue. With a small shimmy of her shoulders, she let out a hum before finally opening her eyes, to find Joe watching her as he opened his straw slowly.

“Wow.” Joe laughed as he pulled the straw out of the wrapper with his teeth. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you so excited before.”

“Ew, that was so embarrassing.” Y/n groaned, running a hand down her face as Joe just laughed.

“No it was cute… you’re cute.” Joe said, biting on the inside of his cheek as he waited for y/n’s reaction at his risky move. She blinked quickly, looking down at her drink in front of her as she felt a small smile sneak across her lips. Sure the two of them had had witty banter that certainly towed the line between flirting and friendly, but this was something else. Now he was just outwardly flirting with her… and she liked it. A lot.

As she lifted her gaze, Joe’s eyes were still on her with the same smile on his face that always made her head spin.

“What?” Y/n asked, the smile on her face betraying her attempt at a serious tone.

“I’m just looking at you.” Joe shrugged, stirring his drink as he continued to look at her even as he took a drink.

“Well, what do you think?” Y/n asked as Joe savored the drink, smacking his lips dramatically before taking another sip.

“It’s alright.” He said with a shrug, curling his lip.

“Just ‘alright’?” Y/n scoffed, her mouth falling agape.

“Ok it’s pretty fucking good, is that what you wanted to hear?” Joe said, causing y/n to sink back into her seat, a smug grin on her face. Joe shook his head, laughing slightly to himself as he took another sip of his drink.

“So… what’re you doing tonight?” Joe asked, his calloused fingers absentmindedly tracing along the edge of his cup.

“Um, nothing really… probably just gonna watch a movie or something.” Y/n said with a shrug. Joe nodded, gnawing on his lips for a second before he would respond.

“Well, I was wondering— since you showed me your favorite spot— if you would maybe want to check out mine. For dinner.” Joe said, his eyes meeting her as he nervously let out a deep breath. Y/n’s lips parted slightly, her head still wrapping around Joe’s proposal.

“Or we could just watch a movie— or you could just do that by yourself if that’s what you want to do, either way that’s fine—” Joe rambled.

“Sure, let’s get dinner.” Y/n grinned. Joe’s nervous expression quickly dissipated, a sigh of relief escaping his lips before a smile spread across them.

“Ok, um, I’ll pick you up at… 6?” Joe said.

“Sounds good.” Y/n said, the two of them smiling giddily at each other as they took the next step after months of pining.

[downwhorendous]

happy wife, happy life

— in which Satoru has a crazy idea at how to get back at your husband for being a piece of shit.

pairing : gojo × fem!reader

warnings : smut, cheating, oral, fingering, penetration, sex tape

note : tumblr debut? I'll yap more at the end... (j.ai 10k special!!!)

It was a beautiful day; you couldn’t have asked for better weather. You were all dressed up, which confused Satoru since normally, when you two hung out, your outfits consisted of sweats and old, worn-out shirts. When he questioned you on it, you deflected, claiming you just felt like dressing up. Truthfully, you had hoped your husband was going to surprise you with a breakfast outing this morning. Last night before bed, you had caught him looking through a breakfast menu from a fancy restaurant nearby on his phone. Assuming he was planning on taking you there, you had decided to wake up early to get ready. You spent the early hours of the morning doing your hair, applying makeup, nit-picking through clothes, and drowning yourself in face creams.

When your husband woke up, you pretended to start working on breakfast, thinking he would stop you, surprising you with a breakfast date.

He didn’t.

“Got a company breakfast meeting today; I’ll be out.”

He didn’t even notice how you had gotten ready, or if he did, he made no effort to comment.

To say you felt dejected would be an understatement.

Out of paranoia and some newfound desperation, you ended up trailing behind your husband in your car. You had had your suspicions these past few months, but you hadn’t wanted to confront them. A large sigh of relief left you when you saw him arrive at that fancy breakfast place, his coworkers present. You still felt a little stung; when was the last time he had taken you out on a date? Or given you a compliment? You were pulled out of your thoughts when you saw a notification flash across your phone screen.

“Pancakes.”

Satoru had such a way with words, didn’t he? Deciding you needed the distraction, you met him at the local cafe, which you both had been regular customers at since high school. Satoru was beaming when you arrived, immediately gravitating towards your favorite table. It was too bad you were wrapped up in your thoughts, or you would have heard Satoru whispering to himself as you sat down.

“Beautiful.”

He knew something was off; Satoru always knew when something was off with someone, especially if that someone was you. However, just like all his questions about your attire, you brushed them off, giving him the usual excuses of “I’m tired,” “I’m hungry,” or “I need coffee.”

Satoru knew something had to be weighing on your mind. He knew damn well you weren’t tired over anything your husband had physically done; there was no way that shrimp could lay pipe that could leave you tired into the morning. However, he did assume it was something to do with your husband. You would never go into much detail, but he could tell your marriage had been going downhill the past few years. Satoru loved to nag you about it, but you were a fierce defender, arguing that nothing was wrong and Satoru was just looking for drama. He knew better than to push you, lest he wanted you to start pushing him away, but it nagged him that you weren’t happy.

In usual Satoru fashion, he had been pestering you for the past twenty minutes about none other than your husband. Of course, he was being smart about it. It started with small comments, ones that you couldn’t necessarily get mad at.

“He’s lucky, y’know? An average guy getting someone like you.”

“Seems like he’s been busy lately, hm?”

“Does he know how lucky he is to have you?”

With each question, his face got a bit more tense, and you felt as if there was more and more strain building up in his voice. Satoru, being the smarty pants he was, pieced together why you looked so down and why you were so dressed up. Your husband had definitely let you down in some way, maybe forgetting about a date? Or canceling at the last minute? Whatever it was, Satoru could slowly feel the resentment he had towards that pathetic worm of a husband of yours build up. It was like he was a volcano, and each question was adding to the impending eruption.

“Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?”

A blanket of thick silence fell between you two; he didn’t need to elaborate; you knew exactly what he meant. It was about time something was said.

“Nothing is going-”

“Don’t give me that horseshit.”

Satoru didn’t want to snap at you, but if seeing you being miserable was enough to drive him this crazy, he couldn’t imagine what you were truly hiding.

“Talk to me.”

The drive to your house was silent, except for the song playing on the radio, not a word had been exchanged between you two.

I hope we never change.

Satoru wasn’t stupid; he couldn’t just get you to confess to all the flaws of your marriage in a crowded coffee shop. He offered to drive you home, to which you accepted. You were being quiet, and Satoru wasn’t sure what else to say. He could press all he wanted, but nothing would change unless you wanted it to.

I hope we stay the same.

“If I tell you, then what?”

When you finally spoke up, your voice was a mix of frustration and vulnerability. Satoru glanced at you, noticing the tears forming in your eyes, and softened his approach.

“Whatever you want.”

If you wanted him to be your lawyer and process your divorce, he would. If you wanted him to beat up your husband to a pulp, he would. If you wanted to initiate an affair-

I hope that we can love through the pain.

“Okay.”

“Okay”

After the honeymoon fades…

With a heavy heart, you entered your home, the familiar surroundings offering little comfort. Satoru followed closely behind, his presence reassuring amidst the turmoil swirling within you.

You sat down on the couch, playing with the hem of your dress as you tried to figure out where to start.

“He’s not cheating.”

Satoru quirked his head to the side as you spoke. He wasn’t sure where this was heading, but he was glad something was finally happening.

“At least…I don’t think he is. I got freaked out a couple of times and went through his phone. There’s nothing.”

You looked ashamed, and you were. Snooping through your partner’s phone was a new low for you. Satoru remained silent, waiting for you to continue.

“I thought he was going to take me out on a breakfast date this morning, but he didn’t. I don’t remember the last time he took me out or even complimented me. It’s like I’m fading away in this marriage, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

Satoru could tell you had been holding this in for too long, especially with how you were holding in your tears. It pained him to see you like this; it was as if someone had ripped his heart out of his chest. Words couldn’t describe how badly he wanted to see your husband reduced to fucking nothing for making you feel like this. Perhaps a swift right hook to the jaw would straighten things out.

“What can I do?”

“Just listen, please.”

“Always.”

Over the next few days, you saw more and more of Satoru. He would come over to your home with a breakfast you thought was too expensive and listen to all your worries. It was like you were having marriage counseling, except your husband wasn’t present…or aware.

It felt oddly wrong to have Satoru coming to your house every morning after your husband left. It wasn’t like you were doing anything wrong, right? You were just spending time with a friend. A friend who showered you with gifts, gave you compliments galore, and treasured you with all his heart.

Platonically, as far as you knew.

Over the course of these “sessions,” Satoru was able to gather a lot about what was going on in your married life. Your husband was being a neglectful piece of shit, to be blunt, although you were definitely sugarcoating a lot. Despite you now being honest with him, Satoru couldn’t help but feel like you were hiding something from him.

“Call me crazy, but I feel like you’ve been avoiding telling me about something.”

“I already think you’re crazy.”

“Spill it, smart ass.”

After some intense interrogations, Satoru was finally able to get you to confess.

“The last time I snooped on his phone…I…found porn.”

Satoru didn’t know whether to laugh or backflip out the window.

“WHAT?!”

After some more probing (this was starting to feel like a detective vs suspect situation rather than a friendly venting session now), Satoru was finally able to get you to crack.

“I don’t know if I’m being dramatic! But…we haven’t done…it, in a long time. I’m usually always home when he is, so I just wonder why…he’s downloading and watching that…”

This was Satoru’s way in; he had been looking for something to give you that final push, and now he had it.

“Well, if you ask me…”

Mischief shone in his eyes; he had something downright sinister planned.

“…personally I consider that cheating; if you were my wife, you’d already be my personal porn sta-”

A croissant narrowly missed his face.

“C’mon! We gotta talk about this.”

Satoru was a pain; you had only briefly forgotten because he had been a sweet friend these past couple of days.

“You’re gross. Also, what am I supposed to do in this situation? Politely ask him to stop and admit I’d been going through his phone?”

“Well, I, for one, have an amazing idea.”

You knew Satoru was crazy, insane actually, but this?

“Satoru, are you drunk?”

“I don’t drink, you know that.”

“Maybe those croissants had weed in them…”

Throughout high school, you had always gone with Satoru’s wacky plans; you were both young and dumb. However, now you were older and mature, er, at least you were supposed to be.

“Just think about it.”

Adults don’t make rash decisions.

“I’ll be at my apartment tonight if you decide you wanna go through with it.”

Adults thought things through.

“I know you’re tired of living like this.”

Adults thought with their heads, not their hormones.

“Let me help.”

Fuck it, it’s fine.

“Satoru, this is crazy.”

“I thought we already established that?”

A sex tape; this blue-eyed monster was offering to make a sex tape with you.

If you thought this was so crazy, why did you come over? Why did you barely hesitate to leave your house tonight? Why were you secretly wearing lingerie? Why was your abdomen fostering a slight ache at the sight of Satoru right now?

Fuck it, it’s fine.

“If he wants something to watch, you might as well give him something to watch, right?”

And that was the crazier part: Satoru had devised this whole plan for you to not only make a sex tape but to send it to your husband as well. He even offered to edit it. Fucking weirdo.

Now, perhaps you didn’t really understand yourself very well at this moment, but Satoru did. Not only did you feel immeasurable sadness at your failing marriage, no, it was more than that. You felt rage, a fierce and burning anger that bubbled beneath the surface. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, it was ready to come to a climax. Satoru knew how hard you worked for others. For years, he had been a silent observer of your selfless endeavors, the countless times you had sacrificed your own needs for the sake of others. Whether it was dropping everything to assist a friend in need or forsaking your personal interests to ensure the happiness of someone you loved, you had been a pillar of unwavering support. Your entire life, you had poured your heart and soul into nurturing those around you, sacrificing your own needs and desires for the sake of others. You were the dependable friend, the steadfast confidante, the pillar of strength upon which others leaned. But in your relentless pursuit of selflessness, you had neglected to tend to the flames of your own discontent, allowing them to smolder and intensify until they threatened to consume you whole.

Everyone has their breaking point, even the most kind-hearted souls.

The injustice of it all, the sense of betrayal, the crushing weight of unmet expectations – it was enough to make even the most saintly of hearts question the very essence of their humanity.

“Let’s do this.”

This was crazy, this is crazy.

You had been whispering to yourself while Satoru set up a very expensive-looking camera in the corner of the bedroom. Were you seriously about to fuck your best friend to get back at your husband for being a jerk all these years? Was this-?

Your thoughts were interrupted when Satoru turned back around, his eyes scanning you up and down.

Rational thinking could come later, you decided, cause you needed to cum right now.

“Okay, let’s talk ground rules.”

Satoru leaned back into his bed, leaning against his headboard as he motioned for you to come closer. You wish you could say you hesitated, but you crawled right into bed with him, not even resisting when he pulled you closer to sit between his legs.

Satoru’s hand rested on the side of your head, gently caressing your hair.

“What’s your safeword?”

“Uh…red?”

“Basic.”

“Shut up.”

You couldn’t help but fucking giggle. Despite the situation, you felt anything but guilt; you felt giddy, like you were back to being a high schooler laughing in the back of the classroom with Satoru at your stupid classmates.

“Not that I plan on going rough on you, but is there anything that’s a hard ‘no’?”

“I’m not calling you daddy.”

“Tch, how dare you.”

He chuckled as he pulled you closer, sitting you on his lap. Your thighs wrapped around his hips as he positioned you to straddle him. His hands rested on your hips, squeezing them lightly. You could feel something poking you right between your legs, hm, wonder what that is…

“So?”

“…so?”

Satoru looked at you expectantly, and you could feel your heart rate start to speed up. The weight of the situation was suddenly crashing on you. There was a camera in the corner of the room, you were in bed with your best friend, and there was a sex tape to be made.

“I thought I should wait for you to start since you’re probably nervous. So, how do you wanna start?”

“Oh, do you-?”

“You’re taking too long.”

Without a moment to spare, Satoru’s lips were on yours, one of his hands traveling to the back of your head to deepen the kiss. His movements showed that he was in no rush. Not that you had ever thought about what it would be like to kiss Satoru, but if you did, you would think Satoru would be a more playful kisser; this felt…oddly intimate.

If you had peeked your eyes open, you would have noticed that one of Satoru’s eyes was cracked open, staring into the camera.

“Ha ha, I’m gonna fuck your wife.”

“God…”

He bit back a moan as he pulled away from you; he couldn’t have you know he had been hard ever since you walked in. Wrapping his arms around your torso, he lifted you off his lap, placing you down onto the bed. His eyes briefly flickered over to the camera again; he felt so damn smug.

“Tell me what you wanna do first.”

“Uh-”

“Taking too long.”

His hands slid under your shirt, earning a gasp from you. He caressed the skin of your stomach, purring at how soft it was.

“Wow, you have to tell me what exfoliator you use.”

“Are we filming a comedy show?”

“No, it’s a sex tape.”

Before you could give a smart reply back, Satoru pinched your belly, laughing mischievously at your yelp. He slowly lifted your shirt up, revealing your soft stomach to his gaze.

“Cute.”

He murmured, bending down to pepper kisses around your belly button, which made you giggle again. The noise itself was music to his ears. His kisses trailed up, lingering just below where your shirt still covered your breasts. He stopped, peering up at you through his eyelashes.

“May I?”

Your breath hitched as you felt him lick a stripe along your skin. God, you needed him so badly. Feeling heat rush to your face, you nodded, your eyes flicking away in embarrassment.

“Say it.”

“Yes.”

Satoru lifted your shirt up farther, eyes widening as he discovered you weren’t wearing a bra. He lifted the shirt to rest right above your breasts, too impatient to take it off right now. His eyes shone with mischief as he brought his hands to your breasts, softly squeezing the flesh.

You couldn’t help but gasp; his hands were so big. You found yourself feeling slightly shy; Satoru Gojo was literally playing with your breasts right now; were you dreaming?

“Squishy!”

He chirped as he kneaded your breasts, eyes flickering over to meet yours as his face started to descend towards your chest. First, he stuck his tongue out, just lightly licking at your nipples, but your mind went blank. Just the small touch sent pleasurable shockwaves straight to your clit. When was the last time your husband had touched you like this? You couldn’t remember, and neither did you care at the moment.

“O…oh…”

Satoru took your small moan as his incentive to keep going. His lips latched around one of your nipples, sucking eagerly. He swirled his tongue around your hard little nub, occasionally flattening and lapping at it. He hummed, the vibrations sending pleasure buzzing throughout your body.

His mouth switched to your other nipple, leaving both shiny and sticky with his spit. Your quiet whimpers and whines were doing wonders for his ego, but he wanted more. He could feel precum already staining his boxers; if he was gonna cum in his pants from just sucking your nipples, he was never going to live it down.

“I wanna do so much to you…”

He mumbled as he lifted his head to look back at your face. He had imagined fucking you stupid so many times over the years; now that he had you, he wasn’t sure where to start.

“Wh…why’s your shirt still on?”

Your petty whine was met with a chuckle from Satoru, who brought his hand back to your breast, his pointer finger flicking your nipple around, which immediately sent a flurry of whines and gasps out your mouth. He was good at getting you to shut up.

“Technically, you’re shirt is still on…but I can change that.”

Helping you sit up a bit, Satoru slipped your shirt off completely, tossing it onto his bedroom floor. His own shirt followed the same fate. He thanked the heavens for his good genetics and vigorous gym routine because the way you were gawking at him made him feel like he was on top of the world.

“Take a picture; it’ll—er, I guess the recording should do.”

His mind blanked again, before him laid the woman his heart had been chasing for years, his pulse was going crazy, and he was so hard he felt his dick just might fall off. He wanted to take his time to explore you, find what made you moan loudest, arch your back, mind go blank. He hadn’t even taken off your pants, and he had already lost it.

“Take a picture; it’ll-”

His gawking was disturbed by your smart mouth, which he again quickly silenced by shoving his hand down your pants, feeling around blindly for your clit. It was quite easy with how the sensitive bud was poking through your panties—which were absolutely soaked to his delight.

“You’re this wet from just getting your tits sucked?”

Usually, you would have a smart-ass reply to dish back, probably about how you could totally tell he had been trying to hide his bulge since you walked into his apartment or how you could see himself staining his sweat pants, but it’s quite hard to form a coherent reply when your hot best friend is so sweetly rubbing your clit through your panties. It was as if the little bundle of nerves was being discovered for the first time.

“Nothin’ to say, hm?”

He paused for a moment, not only caressing your clit, but feeling the fabric of your underwear.

“Is this…lace?”

Using his free hand, Satoru grabbed the edge of your pants and tugged them down, revealing you to be wearing a pair of lace panties—burgundy. This tape was going to need a lot of editing how much marveling Satoru had been doing. His gaze connected back to yours; the look in his eyes was anything but sane. If his cock could talk, it would be screaming to be set free.

“Don’t let this go to your he-”

“Too late.”

Forgetting his strength, Satoru yanked your pants off, almost flinging you along with them to the floor.

In almost an instant, Satoru’s mouth was on you, sucking on your clit through your panties like he was a starved animal. His arms were hooked around your thighs, holding them apart as he feasted with reckless abandon.

“So…pretty…”

He swirled the tip of his tongue around your clothed clit, poking it through the fabric. He felt light-headed as if he was high on ecstasy. Your little whines were music to his ears; he hoped the camera was picking them up.

Satoru could tell you were growing impatient; the yanking of his hair was all the proof he needed. A part of him was hesitating, though. The thought of having his mouth on your bare pussy felt so damn intimate; sure, he had just had your nipples in his mouth a few minutes ago, but this was just next level.

Peering up at you from between your legs, Satoru hooked a finger around the hem of your panties, harshly pulling them upwards so they brushed up against your clit. Your folds were taut against the thin lace as Satoru kept your underwear yanked upwards. Keeping eye contact with you, Satoru let his tongue run up the material, dipping down into the clothed slit that had formed from him tugging up your lingerie. His tongue ran between the thin valley between your lips, slightly digging into the fabric.

“Satoru, just fucking take it off-”

He didn’t make you wait another second. In an instant, your panties were slid to the side, revealing your drooling slit to him for the first time. His eyes flickered over to the camera before returning to your cunt, a small smile spreading across his face.

“God, m’gonna…”

Satoru trailed off as he found the lucidness to slide your panties off, throwing them off to the side. His hands came to rest on your inner thighs, holding them open as he gazed at your glossy pussy. He knew he looked like a total pervert right now, but from how you were panting and squirming, Satoru was sure you didn’t exactly care as long as he did something soon.

How many times had you left his mind blank so far? It would be humiliating if you could hear the actual silence in his mind as he tried to think of what to do.

“Baby.”

The pet name caught you off-guard, baby? Satoru had always been one of your more affectionate friends, but this was new. You couldn’t ignore how the nickname made your pussy clench, and Satoru noticed. You tilted your head up to look at him between your legs.

“Baby, you’re driving me crazy. Are you sure you want this?”

You nodded a little too eagerly, but Satoru didn’t seem pleased.

“Yes, yes, m’sure.”

Satoru felt the last of his sanity leave him as his head sunk, mouth sloppily meeting your pussy. The second his lips touched yours, he let out a moan which sent vibrations straight to your clit. His hands pushed harder against your thighs as his mouth latched onto your aching cunt, practically making out with it.

“Baby, baby, oh my fucking god, you taste soooo good…”

His tongue squirmed its way into you, his eyes drooping as he lapped at your essence.

“So good, don’t ever wanna stop.”

His babble of praises went straight to your pussy, and he could feel you tightening around his tongue. It was as if he couldn’t get close enough to you; he shoved his face deeper between your legs, tongue playfully dragging between your entrance and clit.

“Mmm…f-fuck…”

Finally, pulling away from your cunt, Satoru sat up, bringing two fingers to your folds, spreading and holding them open for his viewing pleasure. He was panting; having you like this under him was literally making him forget how to breathe. Maybe that’s why he was so dizzy. Satoru watched as your poor little hole clenched around nothing, smalls traces of slick coating your pussy like gloss.

“You’re so wet…”

He rubs his fingers along your lips; he can practically scoop your wetness with his fingers. You can feel him start to rub tight circles on your clit, and your thighs refuse to stop shaking. You needed release so badly; all this exploring and teasing was making your muscles feel like they were going to slide right off your bones.

Satoru pushes in one finger, and you gasp, letting out whiny, high-pitched sounds when you feel him curl his finger up. You had always admired Satoru’s hands; they were so long and pretty, and now they were making you see stars. He adds another finger, and it’s as if the wind has been knocked out of you, you have to gasp for air. They feel so deep, stretching your walls out, and you instinctively want to close your legs, but Satoru is using his other hand to hold your other thigh down.

“No, baby, lemme make you feel good.”

Your gummy walls are pulsating around his long fingers, rubbing against spots you didn’t even know existed. Had your husband ever reached spots like these?

Satoru leaned down to whisper to you, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear.

“You wanna cum, yeah? Wanna cum all over your best friend’s fingers?”

You shouldn’t be this soaked from your best friend’s dirty words. He’s so deep, and it’s only his fingers.

“I can feel you clenching; you like that, don’t you?”

Continuing to pump his fingers into your eager hole, Satoru uses his free hand to maneuver your body, positioning you so your spread legs are in perfect light of the camera. In all honesty, you had temporarily forgotten about the sex tape, too drunk on chasing pleasure. Satoru had always been a creative spirit, and he wanted to make sure your husband could see the real angles. Glancing at the camera, Satoru contemplated whether he even wanted your husband to see this tape after all. A flash of jealousy rushed through him, but he quickly brushed it off; he had more important matters at hand—literally.

His fingers speed up inside of you, loud squelching noises echoing in the bedroom, and he can’t help but let out a smug smile. He had you so messy right now, your inner thighs coated with your own wetness.

“Poor baby, you’re so needy, aren’t you”?

The way he’s angling his fingers feels so deliciously good; you can’t help the way your mouth just falls open, gasps of his name rushing out. His thumb presses hard against your pulsating clit, and you nearly scream had you not been already out of breath, your orgasm rushing over you so suddenly you thought you were going to pass out—or see the heavens.

“So beautiful when you cum…”

Satoru murmured, his fingers continuing their relentless pace as you rode out your orgasm.

Your entire body felt limp, and you were sure you couldn’t will yourself to move after that mind-shattering orgasm. Satoru snaked his arm around your waist, the other sneaking to the back of your head so he could lift you up, sloppily slapping his lips to yours. He pulls you onto his lap, and you jerk away when you feel something wet on his sweatpants, the fuck was that? There’s a large wet spot across his crotch, and the dots slowly connect.

“Did you just-?”

“Shut up.”

The hand behind your hand brings your mouth back to his, your tongues sliding against each other as you messily make out. Your ego was sky high; you had made the arrogant Satoru Gojo cum in his pants—just from him watching you get off.

“M-mm…baby, need you so bad…”

Satoru groaned against your lips, hands roaming across your naked body. You were getting a little annoyed at how he was being so coy with keeping his clothes while you were fully naked. Your hand slithered down his chest, tracing his abs, making him sigh into the kiss. Arriving at the hem of his sweatpants, your fingertips just barely brushed against his bulge. Satoru flinched, his breath hitching as he pulled away, lips trailing down to your neck.

“You don’t understand how you ruin me.”

His breathless whisper against the column of your throat sends shivers down your body.

Gently, he shimmies you off his lap and quickly wrangles his soaked sweats down and off, boxers following soon after. His cock springs up like it’s happy to see you. He’s still leaking precum, and he’s so sensitive he’s sure he could cum just from you touching him. You’re a little shocked by how big it is. Satoru had always talked a big game, but you didn’t expect him to actually live up to it.

Noticing your surprised expression, Satoru chuckled and gently guided you back onto his lap. The proximity and lack of clothes between you two was making you woozy. On top of that, the feeling of his dick sliding up your stomach was giving you butterflies; you were genuinely contemplating whether that thing was actually going to fit inside of you. Going out via big dick didn’t sound too bad to be honest.

As if sensing your worries, Satoru pulls away, laying you back down on the mattress. He gently spreads your legs again, moving to be between them. He holds his cock, guiding it to lay down across your mound and tummy.

“See how deep m’gonna be in you?”

His cock just barely brushes against your clit, and you let out a blissful sigh. Satoru lifted your legs, holding your ankles with one hand as he rested them on his shoulders. You could feel his cock just hovering over your clit, sending a slight but sharp buzz throughout your body.

“F-fuck…baby, I-I…”

Satoru whimpered, gasping as he fucked your plushy thighs. He was so close to just being inside you, so close to having you as he had dreamed for so many years. Unraveling your legs from his shoulder, he spreads them apart and pushes them down to your chest.

He feels crazy; all his muscles are completely tense, and his mouth won’t move properly to form words. It’s as if he’s drunk, and it’s all because of you. He’s sliding his thick length across your slit, small little gasps leaving him as he tries to formulate his thoughts.

“Baby, baby, baby, lemme put it in—pleasepleaseplease.”

Your nodding, mumbling “yes, yes, yes,” among other words and random babble. Satoru whines as he positions his cock at your entrance, hands slightly shaking as he rubs his tip against your sticky folds.

You cry out at the way he stretches your walls. It feels so good, and your pussy is sucking him in, hugging his cock like it’s in love with him. Inch by inch, he’s stretching you out so well you feel like you’re floating.

“H-hngh…you’re so tight…”

He wasn’t even all the way in yet, and he felt like he was going to cum immediately. He moans, sheathing himself inside you in a slow thrust. He pauses, basking in the feeling of your pussy clenching him like it never wanted to let go. He feels like he’s going to collapse, so instead, he leans down, caging you between his forearms.

“S-Satoru…”

He’s so big, filling you up so good you could cry from pleasure. Satoru can feel his dick crying from how you moan his name. He starts moving, each thrust slow, but oh so deep you can feel him in your throat. You feel the breath of his panting as he leans down close to your face to give you a kiss, it’s sloppy, but neither of you gives a damn. His hips move against yours, and you don’t even remember the camera in the corner of the room, not when you’re getting the best fuck of your life; what even was your husband’s name?

His lips trail down from your mouth to your neck, sucking dark lovebites as he continues to thrust into you without hesitation. He doesn’t care if you have a husband who is definitely going to see these marks, he’s fucking the love of his life, and that’s all that matters to him.

“Mmm…you like it when I fuck you like this, don’t you, baby?”

You let out a sudden gasp when you feel Satoru suck your nipple into his mouth, circling his tongue around your nub like it was candy. All the combined sensations have your cunt clenching; all you can do is nod, arching your back and pushing your nipple into his mouth. Satoru just continues to suck eagerly, alternating between your two nipples.

“Your stupid fucking husband doesn’t know how to fuck you right, who would deny pussy this good?”

Your eyes snap to the camera, which is still recording. Your mouth is slightly parted, and nothing but moans and whimpers of Satoru’s name escapes. You should feel disgusted with yourself, but instead, you’re squeezing Satoru even harder.

“B-baby, you’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing th-that…”

He rests his forehead against yours, cock still fucking into you, but he’s going faster, and you can feel the heat in your abdomen about to boil over. Your pussy was making embarrassingly loud wet noises as he continued fucking you like his life depended on it. Angling himself, Satoru brings his hand to your abdomen, pressing just under your belly button.

“You feel me here? Feel me filling you up?”

He’s insane and you’re about to cum. Satoru can tell that you’re nearing your peak; instinctively, you try and push yourself away, but Satoru keeps you grounded, whispering into your ear.

“No, no, baby, you deserve this, lemme take you there.”

Satoru doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before your vision goes white, your hole pulsates, and your orgasm washes over you. It feels hot and cold; everything is too much, and yet just enough at the same time. You’re babbling, crying, and whining his name as he continues thrusting into your sloppy cunt.

“So beautiful, so p-perfect…”

He would have loved to hold on a little longer, but Satoru’s own orgasm soon follows, ropes of warm cum shooting into you, coating your walls and painting them white. His hips stuttered, cock plugging you up, and he slowly comes to a stop. The room was filled with your shared panting, and Satoru gave in, forearms giving out as he collapsed on you.

“Just…let’s just stay like this for a while…”

You could feel his cock softening inside of you, his heated breath on your neck, as well as your skin sticking to his in the suddenly humid feeling room. Satoru rolled to the side so he wouldn’t suffocate you and pulled you closer, his strong arms caging you in. You could feel his cock swirl inside of you from the movement and felt your breath suddenly dip, one more orgasm, and you would probably go unconscious. His white hair tickled your nose as he nuzzled his face into your neck, his lips sticking to the skin of your throat.

How did you get here again?

You just had sex with your best friend, and recorded it. You glanced at the camera in the corner of the room, which was still recording this oddly intimate moment.

Fuck it, it’s fine.

OKAY, BACK TO EARTH HORNY FUCKS.

tumblr debut...I have no idea how this app works, I've never written anything like this before, and I'm panicking.

LMFAOOO IDK HELLO GUYS!!!

this is also another part to the 10k special (if anyone who doesn't know me sees this, I'm from Janitor AI, I hit 10k there, not here 😭)

thank you to all my j.ai babies! Please excuse any mistakes, I'm rusty cause j.ai forces me to only write from the char's pov, so help me godddd

"when are you making this into a j.ai bot?" ahahaha...

anyways, there'll probably be a part two to this fic

hope this wasn't complete shit, and thank you for 10k on j.ai!

AND THANK YOU TO @ilumibunz AND @kaeyasblvd FOR BETA READING (and watching me go crazy)

[mariaxxxxx]

Gods fall sometimes (+18)

Summary: Summary: K'uk'ulkan for You to give him a baby (+18)

Warnings: 18+ ONLY/ Minors DNI, Angust, Hurt comfort, Sex, Apologies, Crying, Creampie, Passionate sex, size difference, smut, soft!dom!, HEA, good ending, slight degradation, pregnancy, unprotected sex (don't do that wrap this thing), kidnapping, aftercare, curse words

A/N: A sequel, or not, to Dragon Fruit. I feel like the reader and K'uk'ulkan have a lot to tell about the baby.

A/N: English is not my mother tongue. I apologize for any errors.

PART 1

You woke up at your usual time in the morning. A young maid came to the hammock and gently woke him up. Rested, you sat in the hammock, watching the cabin. It was already daytime, you assumed the sun wasn't present in that cave meters below the sea. So, the room was cold, indicating the presence of salt water around the stones. You stretched, passing your hand over the hammock, something you had become accustomed to doing.

He wasn't there, in fact, he never was. Her husband always slept next to her, but they never woke up together. K'uk'ulkan always woke up early and left the room, leaving her alone to rest. A habitation that You were already accustomed to. Even though, after years of marriage, he was still in the hammock while You woke up, it didn't take long, and he soon returned to Talokan.

You understood. I couldn't stay mad at him. Her husband had ruled for centuries alone, and taciturn habits were hard to shake. Although her days were lonely, her husband made the nights warm. Attempts to make a baby were fun, but fruitless so far. You thought you conceived a baby the day your husband made you pray for him, but the Gods gave you no such gift. The red spot between his legs the following month was enough to make him give up trying.

The Gods, not even K'uk'ulkan, were willing to make you a mother. If not even the divine was able to make you conceive, you thought that an infusion with dragon seeds wouldn't do it either, so you chose to leave it aside. You hadn't talked to your husband about giving up on him, you just continued to let him devour you during the night and cum while he whispered in your ear how beautiful you would look pregnant.

You shook your head to get the bad thoughts out of your mind. He got up from the hammock, noticing for the first time, a box on a small table. A box wrapped in jade green paper. Feeling attracted to that object, and as she approached, she captured a small paper containing the drawing of a celestial goddess generating life in her womb. A faint smile formed on her lips as she noticed her husband's enthusiasm in conceiving a child.

You ripped open the wrapping and opened the wooden box, taking out what appeared to be hair ornaments shaped like your crossed serpents encrusted in gold and jade stone. You smiled a sincere and charming smile. You loved getting jewelry and your husband knew it

“Beautiful, my queen.” Exclaimed the young maid. You hadn't noticed that she was still in the room. “Like the serpents in the hair that adorn the goddess Ixchel.”

“Oh.” You exclaimed in surprise. Only then did he realize that they really resembled the snakes in the hair of the statue of the Goddess Ixchel.

You underestimated your husband, as you always had, he knew you like the back of his hand. It was a not-so-subtle warning that he would continue to try to get her pregnant. He saw her as the goddess of love and the moon herself, this only revealed her adoration before You. Her hands felt for her hair ornament while her mind thought about how You could put an end to her anguish. Then an idea popped into his mind; an idea that could please or upset the gods. It will be her last attempt at conception, if it doesn't work, you will accept that the Gods were not willing to give you the gift of pregnancy. Determined, you turned to the young handmaid and said:

“Cancel all my commitments as queen. Then help me with something

(….)

You were on your knees in the soft reeds waiting for him. As K'uk'ulkan slipped through the curtain, wet from head to toe and richly adorned in gold, he froze at the sight of her figure sitting on her knees in the reeds. With the outfit, or almost none of it, more erotic than he had ever seen. He left him speechless and his cock hardened just by the sight. You looked like the Goddess of the moon herself. With her breasts uncovered, a huge black pearl necklace around her neck, a thin transparent petticoat that covered her intimacy, her perfectly styled hair held back by the hair ornament received in the morning.

 K'uk'ulkan didn't say a word or make a sound, like he could have. He just allowed himself to enjoy the most beautiful sight. It was You who dared to break the silence.

“My devotee.” You exclaimed in a low voice. “Tell me what You want.”

K'uk'ulkan laughs, realizing his joke and approving the idea. Would it be a challenge? Yes. He would do everything to please the young God who lived in his bed. For You, K'uk'ulkan would bend the knee.

“Ah, my beautiful goddess.” He murmurs, approaching the reed. He placed his knees on the soft padding, getting close to You. “Can I eat You, my Goddess? Put my seed in your blessed body?”

You lick your lips, push your knees up until your lips are close to his.

"Perhaps." You whisper. “Show me how much you want this. Show me how much you want me.”

Before you can react, he reaches out to tilt his cheek and presses his mouth against yours to begin a familiar dance between tongues. You kissed those lips several times, infinite times and it would never be enough. No amount of touching would be enough to satiate her love for this man.

You move away a little to breathe, resting your forehead against his and stroking his nose affectionately.

“Last time, my love.” You say. “If tonight we don’t conceive, know that it will be the last time we try.”

“Don’t say that” he says with a slight tone of sadness in his voice. “We will try as many times as necessary until my seed takes root in your womb.”

You wanted to argue and say how much the failed attempts destroyed you inside. She wanted to tell of the times she cried in secret during each new cycle of the new moon without a child in her arms to thank the goddess. But you didn't say it, you just withdrew that feeling to the bottom of your heart and kissed him again.

This time the kiss became more urgent as a silent promise of comfort and burning desire. He wraps his arms around your waist, until you're sitting on his lap. You snuggle onto his hardened cock, moving your hips just the way he liked it. K'uk'ulkan's desire rose like the rising tide before the full moon.

"Part." You murmur into his kiss. “Ask me. Offer me everything.”

"Yes." He says over moans. “My beautiful goddess. I guarantee that my offering will be satisfactory.”

"Hmm." You lick his lips.

Your husband takes a deep breath as his fingers curl around your hips propelling your movements, his lips pursed awaiting more of your kisses. You put your hands on his chest and push him so he lays down on the soft pillows. It was his turn to be in charge. He tries to get up to pull you to yes, but you push him away again, remaining firmly seated on his covered cock.

You lean in and start placing small kisses on his lips, which go down to his chin and neck. Before you know it, he distributes kisses and nibbles over his toned chest. With an expert touch, you pull the fabric of the shorts down. Her mouth salivates and her pussy tightens at the sight of his hardened cock.

“Oh, is this my offering?” You question, your voice full of desire. “I’m not sure it will be enough to satisfy me.”

You notice your husband's fingers gripping the sheets tightly as you wrap your hand around his cock and massage the damp head with your thumb.

“I guarantee that will be more than enough, my goddess.” He grits his teeth as he groans when You squeeze his dick tightly, just the way he liked it.

“I will taste my offering then.”

Sue husband sighs loudly as her fingers curl around him and her lips close over the weeping purple head. Even with little provocation, her pussy fills with excitement at having the salty taste of his seed on her tongue again. You start by kissing the tip, brushing your lips, then continue to tease him with brief sucks and nibbles, listening to your husband's cry for more contact.

"Do not tease me." He orders through his teeth.

"Silence." You exclaim. “I need to check if this offering is up to me.”

K'uk'ulkan rolls his eyes and moans loudly when You take him almost entirely down his throat. His mouth works well, extracting every drop of your salty essence. Her husband Sue pushes her hips up trying to make her swallow more, alternating between provocative sucks and playful licks on the sensitive skin. You keep him in a state of pure pleasure and he growls loudly at the audacity provoked. You were the only mortal who could have a god like him, so weak in the knees, panting like a whore. Her mouth opens wider, pushing herself beyond the limits of paradise, as if she wants to ascend to the divine status her husband has placed her in. You completely swallow it deeper into your throat. Even as his eyes water from the task, you lower yourself onto his cock until your own nose brushes the black hairs of his crotch and his purple head reaches the back of your throat. Your husband gasps as he feels the outline of his cock in his throat, a sight that makes him almost tear the sheets.

"My Goddess." He murmurs between moans and sighs. “Let me spill my seed inside You.”

You take it out of your mouth but wrap your hand around it to continue massaging. Making the provocation even more torturous.

“My worshiper” You tease with a quick movement of your hands, “What do you offer before me?”

"All. I offer everything. My body, my spirit, my nation. Just let me spill my seed into your pussy so that life will be nourished.”

You line yourself up, with your knees around him, to straddle him. Your hand guides the stiff, weeping cock into your wet pussy. You moan loudly as you feel him enter all the way in, your walls welcoming him with sacred heat and divine adoration. Now, no teasing or games. It was time to conceive the much-desired baby.

His cock sinks deep inside her pussy caressing every sensitive spot on her walls. Your hips gain momentum to ride him; rolling and jumping to extract all the lust.

"How many?" You question breathlessly without missing a beat. “How many babies do you want, devotee? Tell me and I will give them.”

“One, two, three...all of them, my goddess. Give me them all”

Your belly contracted with an indication of the approaching orgasm, but You refused to finish before it, as tonight would squeeze out every drop of your seed. K'uk'ulkan lifted his hips to meet his thrust, making it even harder to keep the ecstasy away. Her husband seemed not too far away from his own orgasm, to bring him even further to the brink of pleasure. You made circular movements with your hips as you bounced on his dick.

“Spill your seed!” You demand with the tides of your own release rising within your body, “I'm close, so close…”

Your pussy clenches around him, sobbing his name as you reach your orgasm. The rhythmic spasms of your walls dragging you to the edge along with it. K'uk'ulkan moans with his head against the pillow, his hips stutter briefly, but he continues to pump his seed deep inside her pussy. He holds her hips to keep her trapped and only lets go when all his cum has been emptied. You held in place feeling his penis soften inside You. His breathing was still labored, his head was spinning and his ears were ringing with the powerful orgasm given to You by the divine.

You got off of him, leaving his softened penis lying on his left side. She lay down next to him enjoying the little world of pleasure that surrounded them.

“Tonight, my love.” Her husband said, breaking the silence. “Tonight we will conceive a child.”

And he was right. It was that night that the first baby was conceived. Two months after that night the symptoms started; the swollen breasts, the nausea, the sleep. An old woman confirmed her pregnancy when You came to her to report about the illnesses. When You told him K'uk'ulkan spun her in his arms as she rejoiced promises of love and joy at having a fruit growing in her womb.

For a long nine months you were pampered and fawned over by your husband. No request, no matter how ridiculous, was too small or difficult for her devoted husband. When her belly and breasts became swollen, K'uk'ulkan massaged her body with scented oils for hours, tending to each aching muscle. And when the baby was finally born with its big cheeks and webbed ankles, such devotion also extended to the conceived child. It was no secret how deep K'uk'ulkan's love was for his wife and child.

[luiluvr]

college! luigi struck down by a cold during finals week and still trying to keep up with school, ta stuff, frat stuff etc and reader urging him to rest and take care of himself and practically forcing him onto the couch with tea <333

I LOVE THIS 😓😓❤️

WARNINGS: none! just affection and luigi being sick, mentions of Y/N

Luigi was always persistent in his work, he was incredibly dedicated and prompt with deadlines; especially in college. Only problem: he’s too dedicated. He would make sure his work is accomplished even if the world was ending.

So when a casual cold that everyone was inevitably getting during the winter semester, you found yourself trying to encourage him to take a break. The first day he had symptoms and felt under the weather: “I’m fine, it’s just a headache and runny nose. I’ll take something before bed and I’ll wake up feeling better.”

His words against yours you suppose.

Your classes were a lot earlier than his, so naturally you woke up way before him. You made yourself a to-go cup of coffee, gathered your bag and headed out. The two of you lived in different dorms; but they were across the hall from one another, which meant you saw each other all the time.

The day was normal, nothing of interest, you got through your morning class and a lengthy final, you were grateful to get it out of the way. You were on your way to a meeting with some other students about one of the support groups, there were usually two held during the day, you preferred attending the early one since there’s no classes during. On your way, you decided to drop in on Luigi, he was just barely waking up and getting around. Sluggishly. Very slowly.

You loved him but he looked like death. He stood at the small kitchen counter, a very.. yucky cough escapes his mouth. “You sound lovely.” You say as you set your bag down on a chair and watch him, he groans and mutters something inaudible. “I feel fantastic too.” He says back.

“So much for feeling better, hm?” You state a little cockily, he just glares at you. It’s funny but you also feel bad about it, his dark brown eyes are glossed over, his beard stubble was growing back on his jawline and chin; which he always hated and tried to maintain. His nose was getting red around the nostril where he would wipe and blow. Somehow, even in sickness the asshole managed to look cute. He just seemed laggy, not all there but also, too present. His ears hurt, they popped every time he drank from his water bottle. “Shut up.” He murmurs.

“You should stay here, get rest.” You say, tiptoeing to reach into a cupboard and get the box of elderberry tea out. It was nasty but it always helped when you were sick, so you bought some for Luigi. “Are you crazy? I can’t do that! I have finals all this week, plus a frat meeting Wednesday, which is really important, Y/N!” He was trying to be stern and get his words out quick, but he ended up just coughing excessively, rubbing his temple. Annoyed — almost.

“Jeez, Lu, I know this week is the worst to get sick during but you gotta focus on your health too, ya’know.” You say.

“I do know, but I already checked… I’m not running a fever so I’ll take a Tylenol later for my headache and some cough syrup before I leave. I have a two different exams today in calculus and algorithms, on top of that I’m the one planning the frat meeting, and quite frankly I haven’t really done much for it. I have no idea where it’s even going to be held this week.” He sighs and plops down on a chair.

“You’re overworking yourself, Lu. It’s catching up to you and now you’re sick.”

“It has nothing to do with it, sweetheart.” He says in that tone — you sigh, “I’m not gonna force you, but you need to rest. I’m fine with helping you plan whatever it is you need help with. However, I’m sure the other fraternity members would understand you needing to cancel and reschedule. It’s going all around, even a few of my professors had to cancel classes for the week.” Of course, he was stubborn and did it his way. Men never listen.

You went on to attend your last couple of classes and take the finals, Luigi forced himself to go Monday and Tuesday. Some of his friends came up and told you about his stubbornness in classes when the professor confronted him about not feeling well. As a teacher’s assistant, he resisted and insisted he was fine. Obviously everyone else didn’t think so because he had to sit away from other students as to not spread the bug.

As the week progressed he became more loopy, while you checked in on him daily, you finally decided to put your foot down. “Luigi Nicholas Mangione, you are staying in this dorm and you are resting. I don’t care if I have to strap you to that bed, I already canceled the fraternity meeting, a few of the members are sick as well and your professors are willing to reschedule a day for you to take the finals.”

He sat there, listening to you, his legs hung over the edge of his bed, looking more pale, his red nose had worsened and he trembled from being cold yet simultaneously overheated. His room was unusually messy, his clothes he’d worn the past few days was tossed around, he slept shirtless and there was an attempt to get tissue in the trashcan, but he wasn’t a basketball player. They were scattered lazily.

“But it’s only two finals, I don’t have any tomorrow or Friday,” He starts but you cut him off. “No, Luigi. I’m serious-” He pushes by you. “I’m fine, I just need to take my medicine for the morning.” You roll your eyes, following him into the other part of the dorm.

“Sit down.” You say firmly, you never use a really stern or somewhat harsh tone with him. You don’t like it. He glances at you as he stands awkwardly, shifting his tall figure. “But…”

“No, you heard me. Sit on the couch.”

He grumbles and finally sits on the small gray-colored couch, folding his arms like a toddler. You heat up water in a coffee maker and get the elderberry baggies for the tea he clearly hasn’t been drinking.

He’s been achy from doing so much, his body was tired. His back had been sore for a couple of weeks now and this cold didn’t help. You give him a blanket and bring him his laptop to watch TV on, then you set the mug on a coaster atop an inn table beside him. He feels a little defeated but he can’t deny he likes being tended to. Especially by you.

“There. Not so bad is it?” You question and he looks up at you innocently. What a stupid pretty boy. “Well, I’m not entirely against you taking care of me.” He flutters his long lashes. You chuckle and gently sit across from him. At this point in the relationship, you two never cared if the other was sick, he would lay with you, kiss you and care for you every time you were sick; even if it wasn’t solely an immune system sickness.

You pull him over into your embrace, he lays his head on your chest. His muscular arm tucks around you, making sure to pull up and share the throw blanket. He smiles and gazes up to you.

It’s cute seeing him with his beard growing out and rosy cheeks. Although you could do without the snotty and congested part; his feverish body kept you warm. You return with a cheeky grin and gently place a little kiss on his chapped lips. “You need some chapstick, Lu.” You murmured against them.

“I know. I lost the one I had.”

“How? You just bought it a couple weeks ago.”

“I don’t keep track of everything.”

You shake your head, tracing little patterns across his back with your fingertip. He leans over for a minute, sort of sitting up and lifts the mug with tea to take a big sip. His face contorts, you knew how funny elderberry tasted. It wasn’t the best. You laugh at his reaction, “That’s…disgusting.” He says quietly, “Yeah, but it helps.” He nodded, “Thanks for.. Helping me.” He lays his head down, burying his face in your chest once more.

“That’s what I’m here for. Next time you should really listen and rest.” He tilts his head back and itches his neck, “Yeah, yeah… You’re right. As always.”

“Don’t say it like that!” You say, eliciting laughter out of you both, before you let out a hefty sneeze. “Bless you.” Luigi says, reaching up to brush hair from your head. His thumb traces down your cheek; you sneezed again, this time it inflicted an immediate headache. Great.

He knew the inevitable had caught you too. You give him an unamused look, Luigi grins and stares back up at you.

“Welcome to the club, sweetheart.”

[cher-rei]

He takes care of you when you’re sick and over work from having work over time all week. He’s there for you

lovesick– jamal musiala [ J.M ]

you're my sunlight on a rainy day [305– shawn mendes]

pairing: jamal musiala x fem!reader

summary: being sick isn't so bad when you have jamal by your side.

genre(s): f.l.u.f.f and comfort

[w.c: 1.9k] masterlist

notes: I have risen!!!

jamal was supposed to be in training by now, preparing for his match in a few days. but instead, he found himself sitting beside you in bed, staring at you with a pout as you bundled up further into your blankets.

the sight of your sunken eyes and flushed face made his heart ache enough to block out your desperate pleas for him to leave for practice. when you woke up it already took him ten minutes to convince you to cancel on your lectures today, but this was plainly burdensome.

you'd been pushing yourself a lot harder than you'd like to admit these past few weeks. late-night study sessions, early morning lectures, and your part time job had completely ruined you. but you didn't think that it would end up like this, it was just much as a surprise to you.

you'd never experience more than aching muscles and a migraine due to overexertion but your boyfriend was having none of it. he was sick and tired of seeing you drag yourself through the front door in the evening and barely manage to eat before bed. until now.

you were paying the price, fighting back your supper from the night before and a sniffling and coughing mess. your eyes being enough of a telltale that your body was giving up on you. jamal tried to convince you to take it easy, but you insisted on soldiering on.

that was when he took matters into his own hands and declared himself your personal nurse for the day— or however long you needed.

"jamal, please just go to practice," you urged your boyfriend and gently nudged his hand away. "I'll be fine I promise."

your retort was enough to make him laugh but he was smarter than that. "and leave you alone so that you can drag yourself into the lounge and study?" he quirked a challenging brow and got up from the bed, the look on your face telling him all he needed to know. "yeah, that's what I thought."

an irritated groan left your lips and you flopped back down onto your pillow, the harsh movement sending your head into a spiral as your vision blurred further. an unfamiliar churn in your stomach caused you to sit back up, one hand on your stomach and the other on your forehead.

in no time jamal was back— his training kit off and instead dressed in a pair of sweats and a plain t-shirt. a worried look was plastered on his face and he bent down to look you in the eye, the rim of tears forming causing him to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"come on baby, let's get you cleaned up, yeah?" you took his hand as he led you to the bathroom where he ran you a hot bath, the comforting overflow of bubbles sending a feeling of warmth through your chest.

you were more likely to cry because of how thoughtful he was than your actual sickness. jamal had always been the one to make everything feel lighter, and he knew exactly how to ease your mind and drown your sickness and discomfort with his heartwarming laugh.

he was gentle in all he did— the way he soothingly massaged your shoulders as you sat in the bath, overcome with emotions at the touch of his hands on your back and hair as he massaged the shampoo in.

it made you forget. instead, you listened to your boyfriend talk about something that happened at practice the day before and the dream that he had about you, which had him mentally cursing his alarm clock for waking him up. for most it was difficult, but jamal could easily draw a laugh from your lips.

"am I getting paid for this?" he asked with a teasing smile, looking at your reflection in your vanity mirror as he dried your hair, his fingers gently tugging at your strands.

your nose scrunched at the question, a distasteful hum leaving your lips. "you're hilarious. it's been 3 hours, don't push it."

he simply shrugged and set the hairdryer down, letting you have the freedom to tie your hair up while he packed everything away. "I could have been on my 4th drill by now, I have a job you know?"

you snapped your head to look at him, your jaw dropped in disbelief. "you willingly stayed out today, don't even try this with me right now."

with an unsure hum he placed the last pillow on your shared bed. "technically, you gaslit me because why would I willingly want to stay at home with my girlfriend that i would literally die for?"

your heart skipped a beat at his teasing quip, watching as he walked up to you with his arms open for a hug. with no objection, you got up and melted into his embrace that had a content sigh heaving from your chest.

"stop being extra," you said, muffled into his chest.

"then stop getting sick, you idiot."

the rest of the day jamal was attentive as ever to the point where he wouldn't even let you lift a finger. he made sure you were comfortable on the sofa cuddled up to his side, his fingers gently playing with your hair and lulling you to sleep.

his attention was fixed on the television until he was sure that you were out cold. he took a moment to appreciate how cute you looked on his chest, your exhaustion showing in the way that you lightly snored. with a smile placed a soft kiss to your forehead and carefully got up.

he tucked you in further before leaving the house to head to the pharmacy for some medication and locked the door behind him. the second he stepped out into the driveway he was hit with a gush of wind that sent a chill through his body.

jamal lifted his head to look at the sky that was overwhelmed with dark grey clouds which meant that it was probably going to rain soon. not wanting to waste any time he made a beeline for the pharmacy in hopes that he'd beat the rain home.

unfortunately, that was not the case and due to the traffic to and from the pharmacy and the fact that there was no parking nearby the store he was drenched from head to toe. the wind fought him but he prevailed and made it back home before you woke up.

you didn't stay asleep long though and weren't too happy to find out that your boyfriend wasn't beside you on the sofa. you also happened to notice the droplets of water on the floor leading up to your bedroom.

"jamal?" you called out and wrapped the blanket tighter around your shoulders, skillfully dodging the wet spots on the stairs as you called out to your boyfriend who eventually responded.

you were met with the sight of jamal standing in the middle of your bedroom with his shirt off suggesting that he just got.out of the shower. "did you go out in the rain?"

your boyfriend stood silent for a moment, his lips parted as he averted his gaze. "I mean not technically." he shrugged his shoulders, hoping that you weren't mad at him. "it wasn't raining when I left."

"oh great, now you're going to be--" you stopped mid sentence to sneeze. "you're going to--" you sneezed again. not once. not twice. and definitely not thrice.

your body recoiled at the uncomfortable and violent force of the sneezes, jamal having nothing to do besides watch with an amused smile as he bit back his laughter.

when you were done with the fit of sneezes you stared at him blankly to recollect your composure.

"bless you, baby," he said with a cheeky smile. but the term of endearment didn't throw you off track and you were back to reprimanding him. jamal thought you were being dramatic and continued to get dressed, humming in agreement to your rambling.

"me being sick is one thing, but you?" you said and threw your hands into the air, the blanket flailing in the air. "you need to be healthy and you know better than to leave the house in the rain."

he took your hand and dragged you back downstairs to the kitchen. "it wasn't raining when I left, I told you." he looked back at you and you rolled your eyes, ready to protest. "my immune system is stronger than yours anyway."

he stopped in front of the kitchen island and put you on the counter with ease. "so please shut up." he unexpectedly pecked your lips, moving away to get the medicine before you could say anything.

"it's like you have a death wish!" you yelled in shock at the kiss.

jamal came back with a glass of water and a few tablets, handing them to you one by one and waiting until you drank them all. "as long as it's you, it's fine."

your face scrunched in slight disgust at the cheesy response. it was nothing new and it was a known fact that somehow jamal's cliché quips worked on you most of the time, but this was not one of them.

he pursed his lips in defeat at your reaction, getting the hint. "not the one?"

you shook your head and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. "and it never will be. never say that again please."

he stifled a laugh and pecked your cheek. "noted."

the two of you stayed like that for a while, just catching up and relaxing in each other's presence. you weren't too keen on having jamal this close to you, but you were grateful for his stubbornness because you would have lost your mind without any form of physical contact.

"yeah and then--"

jamal was cut off by himself by none other than his worst nightmare. the sneeze had you both silent for a moment until you slapped his arm hard enough that he flinched, a pout forming on his lips.

you covered your face with your hands, a sigh leaving your lips. "what did I say? this is why you should listen to me."

jamal tried to argue back that it was just the dust in the air but the sneezes that followed after didn't help his case in any way. but hey, at least he'd be at home with you for a few days. he wasn't complaing at all.

your head began to ache at the thought of being stuck at home with jamal for the next few days, not because you didn't want to be around him, but because you knew how needy he was when he was sick. there wasn't a second where you weren't attached at the hip.

you opened up the blanket around your shoulders and pulled him into the warmth of your embrace. "now you're sick because of me, great."

jamal burried his face into your neck and smiled, the feeling of his lips trailing gentle kisses making you shiver. "oh yeah, I'm sick alright." he lifted his head to look at you with a puppy-like smile. "lovesick."

"get out of my face right now, I swear jamal--"

"so I can't love my girlfriend now?? is that it?"

[littlespacereader]

I saw that ur criminal minds agere fic is just one so here is my request

Daddy hoch x dada derek x little reader where something is bothering her but she regressed to a headspace where she is non verbal (she is always tiny in her headspace but today she was extra tiny) and they try to find out what's wrong but there gotta go to work but dont want to leave her alone so they go all to the Bau and after a while she falls asleep with her paci in mouth a stuffy under her arm a blankie in her hand and wrapped in a very big cozy weighet blanked 😍😍🥺

GET OUT OF HERE! Don’t actually because this fic is absolutely adorable!! I’m a sucker for a good CG!Hotch fic but CG!Morgan too!! I’m dead!! I absolutely love the ideas you added to the request so I made sure to include them all! I apologize for how long this took me to write. Between school and all the rewriting I’ve been doing it’s been a bit of a hassle. But I’m very happy with how this fic turned out! Please enjoy!! Thank you for the request!

Baby in the Bullpen 🍼🏢📄

Caregiver! Aaron Hotchner, Caregiver! Derek Morgan, & Fem Little! Reader

Tags - SFW!, hurt/comfort, hugs, cuddles, forehead kisses, pacifiers, sippy cups, low key mentions of pull-ups, BAU family

Nicknames - Princess, sweetheart, baby, sweet girl, Daddy for Hotch, Dada for Morgan

Picture a day where everything is perfect. It’s a perfect day where everything goes well and there’s no problem or pressure at all. Almost like you’ve been floating on a happy little cloud.

Today is not one of those days.

Today is a day where everything that could possibly go wrong goes wrong. Like a rain cloud that’s only centered on you.

I knew the moment I woke up it was going to be one of those days. Snuggled between my Caregivers in a nice warm bed, what more could any Little ask for? But my alarm went off and off to work I went.

It wasn’t every day my Caregivers had the day off, so I was especially mad I had work while the two of them were home. But trying to match my schedule with theirs always seemed like an uphill battle.

I arrived to my job at the bookstore to a line, let me repeat, A LINE of angry customers! How you could possibly be angry in a bookstore is beyond me, but today wanted to test me to see my limits.

So there I stood, listening to one complaint after the other, all while trying to keep my composure.

My book came with scratches on the cover!

My book’s cover was supposed to be purple!

I didn’t like the ending!

You didn’t say it was a sad book!

Blah, Blah, Blah. All utterly stupid and pointless complaints that were more ridiculous than the next. Despite their ridiculous claims it’s began to ware me down with one right after the other.

I longed for the day to end, for my Caregivers, who were probably on each others nerve by now without me as their favorite buffer. The thought brought a smile to my face.

Then my manager came over and decided to ruin it all. “Y/N, I’m going to need you to stay later today. Elizabeth called in sick.”

“I can’t I have plans.” Do I actually have plans? No, nothing besides a nice early dinner and cuddling with my Caregivers. But she didn’t need to know that.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to cancel them. You’re the only one here so you’re going to cover it.” And with that she walked away.

Suddenly I felt the weight of the day layered on again. I became overwhelmed with emotions I wasn’t allowed to have at the moment. I took my break and went into the restroom to pull myself together.

Frustrated tears fell from my eyes but I couldn’t break down now, not yet. I would have time for this when I got home. I just needed a minute and then I could go back out there and deal with everyone once again.

~~~

Morgan could see Y/N’s headlights going up the driveway before he heard the car door slam shut.

“Hotch, she’s home.” He called out to him, before the front door opened.

The moment Y/N entered the house, Morgan and Hotch immediately looked over. Morgan sat by the television and Hotch had popped out of kitchen. But immediately they could both see that something was wrong.

“Princess? You alright?” Morgan right away asked. His usual smile replaced with a worried look.

Y/N didn’t say a word. She just dropped her bags and started crying. Morgan jumped from the couch and quickly made his way over to her.

“Hey, hey, hey, what happened? What’s going on?” Morgan lifted the sad Little into his arms.

Y/N didn’t say a word, she just grabbed Morgan’s shirt like her life depended on it and cried. Hotch crossed the house, joining Morgan and Y/N at the door.

The two Caregivers shared a worried look. “What happened sweetheart?” Hotch tried to ask but still Y/N didn’t say a word. She just buried her head against Morgan’s chest and continued to sob.

Morgan began walking around the room with the Little in his arms, lighting bouncing and shushing her cries. One arm wraps around her back with his hand cradling her head.

Morgan and Hotch continue to share worried looks to one another as the two Caregivers turn their profiling sides on for a moment.

“She was supposed to be home at 3 right?”

“Yeah but she texted me saying they had to keep her there long.” Hotch replied.

“So a bad day at work?”

“This isn’t just from a bad day at work. This is a build up. We were gone all last week and now the first day of our break she has to work. Mix that with possibly a bad day and…” Hotch trailed on.

“Poor baby,” Morgan coos, “Missing your handsome Caregiver today huh?” He jokes hoping to get anything from his little one, but it doesn’t get a smile. Instead she just rests her head on his shoulder as tears still slip from her eyes.

Thankfully all the walking around bouncing seemed to work, at least a little bit. Y/N was no longer crying but she didn’t seem too happy either.

“There we go, no more tear gorgeous. You’re okay now. We’ve got you.” Morgan sat beside Hotch on the couch, pulling Y/N in his lap.

Hotch leaned over and wiped the remaining tears from her face. “It’s been a long day hasn’t it?” He asked but Y/N just cuddled closer to Morgan instead of answering.

All at once the two realized their baby was feeling a bit non verbal today. It didn’t happen often with Y/N, but when it did they knew she was feeling especially young.

“Not in the mood for talking? That’s okay princess. We’ve got you.” Morgan starts to say.

“How about this? How about we go upstairs and get changed out of these big uncomfortable clothes and into something a bit more comfortable? Squeeze my hand once for yes and twice for no.”

Morgan took her hand in his. After a moment of thinking he set a single squeeze. He looked to Hotch and nodded. “Alright, let’s get you changed.”

He stands and immediately smells something burning. “Aaron…you’re burning dinner again.” Hotch’s face dropped. He jumps up from the couch and runs into the kitchen.

Morgan smirked and shook his head. He carries Y/N upstairs and while chuckling, “It isn’t really a Daddy dinner if he didn’t burn it?” He joked. That got a small smile from Y/N. They were heading in the right direction.

Once in her light pink bedroom, he set her down on her bed and began going through her dresser drawer. “Okay, I think for you tonight we’re going to get you dressed in the absolute softest pajamas. And the absolute softest pajama you have arrrreeeeee these!”

He turned back to the bed to see Y/N sitting patiently with her favorite stuffie Sharky the shark in hand. “Ta-da!” He held up the fluffy pink long sleeve onesie complete with footed feet.

Y/N squeezes their stuffie as they took a moment of consideration. They decided with a simple nod of the head as a yes to Morgan and the footed onesie.

“Great! I thought I picked a good one,” he winked, “Now let’s get you changed for the night.”

Morgan helped Y/N take off their normal work attire and changed into the soft onesie and a pull-up for good measure. “There we are. Now let’s get your hair out of your face.” Morgan moved to get their hair tied and brush when there was a knock to the door.

~~~

Daddy walked in and he had that look on his face. You know, the look that says something’s wrong and he’s not happy about it.

“Derek I need to speak to you for a moment.”

That’s never a good thing.

“Y/N, we’ll be right outside the door okay? Just for a minute.” Dada reiterated.

My two Caregivers left the room and closed the door behind them. Then, once again, I was alone. The terrible feelings start to come back again.

Dada scared them away with his gentle rocking, shushing and jokes. He always knows how to make me feel better when I’m upset. But now my sadness was returning and with it fear. It’s never a good thing when your Caregivers go to talk about something first without you there.

I squeezed my shark stuffie a little tighter as I stared down the bedroom door. Was I in trouble? Was there trouble? My mind started to spiral with ideas.

It sounded like they were arguing, not with each other but about something. Again, that’s never a good thing to hear. My sadness took a backseat for a second as curiosity took the wheel. I hoped off my bed and walked over to the door with the hopes of maybe catching what they were talking about.

“Call them back and tell them we can’t. I mean you see the kind of night she’s having.”

“You don’t think I know that? *sigh* I tried everything, every excuse in the book. Rossi knows us, he knows Y/N. He wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t life or death, you know he wouldn’t.”

“So what are we going to do? She can’t be by herself tonight-“

I backed away from the door as I processed what they’re saying. Uncle Rossi called? That means they were going to the office. They’re leaving me.

The realization brought sadness back to the drivers seat. I walked back over to my bed and crawled under the covers. Maybe it’s better if I’m alone. I don’t want them! I don’t want anyone!

I cried into my shark stuffie as I heard the door open and close again. Then I heard the sound of footsteps over to my bed before I felt someone sit next to me.

“Sweetheart it’s okay. You don’t have to hide it’s just Daddy.” Hotch said as his hand rubbed the top of the blanket.

Okay maybe I was lying when I said I wanted to be alone…because I don’t. I want him to stay!

I peeked my head out from the blanket and was met with Daddy’s worried eyes. He opened his arms to me as a silent invitation, one I happily took. He brought me into his lap and hugged me close. I rested my head on his shoulder as tears fell from my eyes.

“There’s my sweet girl. Now, there’s something we need to talk about.”

The last scared me, and all at once I started crying some more as I shook my head no. I don’t want to hear the bad news.

“It’s okay, you didn’t hear it yet. It’s not a bad thing I promise. It’s just…a change of plans.” Hotch sighed as he began to rub my back to calm me down, “You see, Uncle Rossi called me and he really needs Dada and I to go to the office and work on something. Now normal I would rather you stay home and stay far away from the office. But I can see you really need Dada and I tonight so…you’re going to come to the office with us.”

My sniffles here and there stopped for a moment as I process what he was saying. I would come into the office with them?

I lifted my head off his shoulder and looked at him confused. I would go to his office, like this? And he was okay with it? I mean, his team knows about my regress. One of them even regresses too. Spencer and I are best friends because of it. But everyone else at the FBI doesn’t know.

I guess Daddy could see my confusing because he explained on. “It would only be us, just our team. It’s too late for everyone else to be at the office anyway. Just Aunt JJ, Aunt Emily, Aunt Penelope, Uncle Rossi and Spencer. No one else.”

That put my worries at ease, but it didn’t answer million other questions running through my mind. Before I really understood what was happening, he stood up and made his way over to the dresser.

He paused seeing my hair ties and brush sitting on top. Daddy chuckled, “It’s a good thing I stopped Dada before he brushed your hair. Isn’t that right?”

I mean he wasn’t lying. When it came to doing my hair, Hotch is my favorite person…well after Aunt Penelope, JJ and Emily of course. Morgan…he wasn’t the most gentle when it came to brushing my hair. He sat back on the bed and began to brush and tie my hair.

Once satisfied, he went to my closet and grabbed my usual Little to-go bag. He began packing it with the usuals some coloring books, crayons, toys, my pacifier, and a weighted blanket. But speaking of paci…

Immediately when I saw my favorite pacifier I whined and made grabbie hands for it. Daddy immediately held it up for me as if to say “is this want you want?” When I nodded my head yes repeatedly, he walked over and handed it to me.

I immediately popped it in and felt the rush of relief. There’s something about a paci that just melts away the stress. I held Sharkey close and closed my eyes for a moment, soaking in the nice fuzzy feeling before it disappeared.

Daddy walked back over with a little pacifier clip. He wrapped it around and clipped it to my onesie so I wouldn’t lose it.

Dada popped in with a sippy cup on his hand. He handed it to Daddy before he zipped the bag up. I looked over at Dada and notice the new outfit he was wearing. Actually, now that I’m thinking that I notice Daddy was the same way. Out of their usual at home comfy clothes and back into their stupid work clothes.

“All set?” Hotch asked Morgan.

“Yeah I’m all set. Is she all good?”

“She’s all packed up and ready to go.”

Then they both looked back to me. I just squeezed Sharky and looked away. Dada walked over and kneeled down beside me.

“I know the last thing you want to do tonight is go out. But…” he dragged the but on, “Think of this whole thing like an adventure. Going undercover with your Caregivers at the FBI. You’re our Little agent tonight.”

I lifted my head up and met his eyes. That did sound cool the way he was saying it. I put my arms out to him and made grabby hands to be held.

He never needs to be told twice. He smiled, lifting me up into his arms. “Come on baby, let’s start our adventure.”

Dada carried me to the car with Daddy right behind. In Daddy’s arms, my backpack and his brief case in the other. Daddy hoping in the drivers seat while Dada buckled me into my seat. Once he hopped into the passenger seat, we were off.

The ride to the BAU wasn’t long at all, but with the emotionally exhausting day I’ve been having, I kept nodding off the whole drive. I really only woke up when the SUV came to a stop in the underground parking garage.

Daddy came to my side of the car, helping me with my seatbelt before I hoped out. It was weird seeing the parking garage so empty. Usually it would be filled with cars. Now it had our SUV and the others cars inside of it with the rest of the spots empty.

We made our way to the elevator. “Wanna press 15 for me sweetheart?” Hotch asked. I nodded and happily pressed the button. With that the doors close and we start to go up.

Once the doors opened I immediately started to feel shy. It’s very rare that I go out regressed like this, walking around in my onesie, stuffie in my hands and my paci in my mouth.

But today was a horrible, horrible day. And there was no way I was going to be much older than I am now.

I walk closer to Dada and grab his hand. He holds onto it tightly as I walk sort of hidden behind him.

Once in the bullpen Rossi greeted us. He began briefing Morgan and Hotch on what’s going on. All the big words fly over my head as I stay hidden against Dada’s side.

After a moment he turns and looks at me, “And hello my beautiful niece! How are you doing tonight? Out on a late night adventure?” Rossi smiles.

“She’s not feeling very talkative tonight David.” Hotch explains.

“Aw! That’s no problem. Whatever is most comfortable for my favorite niece in the whole world.” His kindness starts to bring me out of my shell a bit. I turn from Dada’s side to Rossi with a small smile across my face.

“She’s your only niece.” Morgan chuckles.

“Doesn’t make her any less my favorite.” Rossi winks towards me. Again I can’t help but smile.

With my free hand I lift Sharky up to Rossi to see. “Ahh! Well if it isn’t Sharky! He scared me! I thought there was a loose shark in here! You better keep an eye on him Y/N.” He winked.

Rossi looks back up towards Morgan and Hotch and explaining what they needed to do.

Morgan looks to me and squeezes my hand before letting it go, “Alright princess I gotta go do some work. You’re going to go with Daddy, okay? I’ll see you later.”

With a pat to my back and a kiss to the top of my forehead Dada he made a move to leave. But before he could I grabbed his hand again, a whine sounding behind my pacifier.

I could feel Daddy place a hand on my shoulder as Dada turned around and took his hand from me. “I know baby, I know. I promise I’ll be back soon. You stay with Daddy.” He tried to reassure but I shake my head no.

Tears fell from my face as I watched him walk into the middle of the bullpen and take a seat at his desk. I didn’t want this! I want to be home with the two of them!

Daddy picks me up and carried me towards his office, all while rubbing my back and trying to reassure me. Looking over his shoulder I could see the whole team gathering to talk about the case.

Aunt JJ and Emily stand next to Morgan’s desk chatting with him. Not unusual. What is unusual is Spencer. I’ve never seen Spencer outside of our headspaces before. Whenever we hang out he’s regressed with me. So seeing him working and being his usual adult self was an odd shock to my system.

But soon we were in Daddy’s office with the door shutting behind him. All at once the overwhelming office became less overwhelmed with just the two of us together.

He sat his briefcase down on his desk before crossing the office and taking a seat with me on his office couch. “It’s okay. I know, it’s a long day isn’t it? And it keeps getting longer. But I’m here and Dada’s just a few feet away. We’re here.”

Daddy spends a moment reassuring and comforting me. Once my tears stop falling he coaxes me to start to color at his coffee table. “Alright, Daddy’s got to go do some work and while I do why don’t you color a picture for Dada and I? If you need anything you just come over and I’ll help you.”

With a kiss to my forehead, he picked me up and placed me on the couch. He grabs my coloring book, my crayons and my sippy cup and places them all infront of me before he heads to his desk to work.

For a little while I try not to bother him as he types away on his computer and makes phone call after phone call. But after a picture or two I get a bit antsy. I want to be by him or Dada! Not at this stupid coffee table!

So, grabbing Sharky and my weighted blanket, I make my way over to Daddy at his desk. I round the desk and pull on his sleeve.

~~~

Hotch, who can’t even remember his name at the moment with the amount of work he has, snaps out of his fog when he feels a small tug on his sleeve.

Then a small smile creeps across his face as he sees the tired Little standing infront of him, rubbing their eyes with their fist, a yawn or two escaping behind their pacifier.

“Oh, Y/N. What’s the matter sweetheart?” He asks before remembering.

He takes a moment to look them over before asking, “You wanna go to bed sweetheart?” That gets a nod. “Okay, give me a second and I’ll get the couch set up for you.”

But before he even turns back to his computer, Y/N whiles and shakes her head no. That seemed to upset her.

Hotch turns to her once again, this time confused. She wants to sleep, but not on the couch. “What’s the matter honey?” He asked concerned.

Y/N, with tired tears in her eyes, reach out to him with her stuffie and blanket in her arms. Ohhhhhhh. Finally it kicks in.

“You wanna snuggle honey? Okay. Come here, let’s bundle you up first.” Y/N holds onto her shark as Hotch leans forward and wraps her weighted blanket around her. Then he picked her up like a little burrito and sits her on his lap. Her head rest comfortably against his chest as he wraps his arms around her.

“There you go. Comfy?” He asks getting a small nod in agreement. “Alright, you go to sleep. Daddy will be right here to protect you.” Hotch adds with a kiss to her forehead for good measure.

Hotch continues on working with Y/N peacefully sleeping in his arms. Her head pressed again his chest listening to his heart beat, her paci still in her mouth and her shark stuffie held tightly inside her blankie. She’s the most relaxed she had been all day.

An hour flew by before Hotch received a knock at his door. Garcia popped her head in to ask Hotch a question but that quickly flew out the window as she got a look at how adorable Y/N was.

“Oh my gosh!!! Look at her!!” She whispered, practically dying at the sight of Y/N peacefully sleep in Hotch’s arms.

Garcia couldn’t help herself and alerted everyone to the cute sight. Soon everyone was taking a break from their work to pop into Hotch’s office and see Y/N. They all cooed and awed at the adorable Little who only cuddled closer to her Caregiver.

Morgan smirks and rolls his eyes plays fully, “Hey! When is it my turn?”

“Your chances of being president of the FBI are better than you getting Y/N from my arms.” Hotch jokes back. Now that he had the sweet sleeping Little in his arms, he was not letting her go.

[simplyzeeka]

Episode 5. Season 1

Red strings

I put a spell on you,

because you're mine

You better stop the things you do

I ain't lyin', no, I ain't lyin'

Warnings: MDNI!! Infidelity, profanity, adult themes, everybody ain't shit.

Summary: When butterflies in their stomach start feeling a little too much like red strings tugging on their souls.

Previously, on Something Seasonal

Airports gave him headaches. If it wasn't the shrill, annoying, robotic voice that spoke through the intercoms then it was definitely the sound of rolling suitcases, loud chatter and laughter, pointless screaming and how overcrowded the airport got that made Terry less eager to fetch his wife.

But he missed her, and that was more than enough of a reason to be excited for her return from Singapore.

It was early into the day, around 10 pm Friday, and Terry had skipped his weekly cardio session at the gym. Naturally, he woke up much earlier and played around with his phone before he cleaned around the house and prepared himself to fetch Amber.

Except Amber was around an hour late, and with the way the woman loved being punctual, being late seemed so out of character.

Terry reached for his phone in his pocket, speed dialling Amber’s number. The phone rang for a while before going straight to voicemail. Terry frowned, looking around to see if he could catch sight of her or perhaps a whiff of her signature lavender perfume.

Terry sent a short voicemail, asking her where she was. While he kept calm, his lips twitched into a frown, foot tapping mindlessly on the tiled floors. He still had to prepare for work once he made it back home, but now, his perfectly planned out schedule was being messed up.

He called again, only for his phone to buzz shortly, with a pop-up notification appearing on his screen. A few messages from Amber. Letters stringed together to form words that had him mugging his phone, fingers clenching tightly around the small device.

Pretty Baby

T, I’m so sorry baby.

Boss said I have to stay a few extra days.

It was last minute, I’ll make it up to you when I’m back.

Terry clenched his jaw, didn't stay in the messaging app long enough to question Amber, didn't keep his phone in his hand long enough to leave innumerable voicemails that would surely drive Amber, and her boss, wild.

Instead, he put his phone back in his pockets and left the buzzing airport with a bouquet of baby breaths in his hand. He'd have to cancel the reservation to Amber's favourite steak place as well.

It wasn't until he got into his car that he felt the tension in his jaw lessen. The same couldn't be said about the heavy pounding of his head.

Amber had been constantly postponing her flight back home. According to Terry's knowledge, she was supposed to be back home five days ago. In their home, sleeping in their bed.

After a few breaths, the headache only subsided slightly. Then his phone was on his ear again.

“Hey, you free today?”

She expected a diner, the gym, hell, even a park, since he loved taking walks so much.

Yet when they pulled over to a kept suburban home, panic set into Syrae’s heart. “Terrence Richmond, where the hell are we?” She questioned with a frown, looking over at him sitting in the driver's seat.

“Still think it ain't fair how you know my full name and I don't know yours.” Terry joked, turned off the ignition before turning to face Syrae with a smile that didn't fully reach his eyes.

He's been off since she got into the car.

“Shouldn't be so careless with your wallet.” Syrae countered with a small smile of her own, turned her gaze away from his, couldn't fall into that kind of trap again. “Stop deflecting. Who's house is this?"

Terry huffed, couldn't be bothered to answer the question, because he himself didn't know why he brought Syrae here of all places. They could've gone somewhere public, anywhere they wouldn't be alone and compromise their progress.

His thoughts clouded his head, common sense evaporating to form small little white fluffs of risky decisions and unwarranted mistakes.

By the time the flow of possibilities of their meetup stopped stagnant in his brain, he was already opening the door for Syrae.

“I'm not gettin’ out this car till you tell me where we at.” Syrae challenged, her arms crossed over her chest to emphasize her pretentious resolve. It wouldn't take much to get her to get out of the car, really. He didn't even have to tell her the truth.

Yet still, he did, and the truth was bitter. It burned Syrae's throat as a lump formed. Cleared her judgment, just enough for a frown that was so beautifully sketched onto her face, it wouldn't deter Terry's plans.

A few blinks and silent sighs were what it took for Syrae to break out of her daze. “What you say?” She questioned breathlessly.

“We're at my place.” Terry retorts with a sigh. He himself knew how all of these were too many steps in the wrong direction. It's been roughly a few days since they've agreed to being friends, yet still, this was still too soon to even invite each other to their homes.

Hell, Syrae had Terry pick her up at their café to maintain the littlest bit of the platonic relationship they had… have?

“We're not gon’ be here long, just need to-” Terry began, trying not to make it seem as bad as it may have looked.

But Syrae shook her head immediately, and as if the movement brought snowfall, Terry's words froze. “Uh-uh. Terry, this isn't… fuck.” She sighed. Curse this man for always being a headache, ‘cause the pounding in her head could never be caused by somebody other than him.

“Rae, it's cold, I'm tryna get inside. We're not gonna be here long. Promise.” He assured..

Or maybe it was the fact that Syrae's resolve was questionably weak when it comes to Terry, because while she was shaking her head no, her feet lifted out of the car. The frigid breeze hit her face, just as cold as her glare when she looked at Terry.

“Thirty minutes, then we're out.” She ordered, a finger pointed in his direction before she stepped to the side.

Terry laughed with a slow shake of his head. He closed the passenger door before walking behind Syrae, leading her to the porch of his and Amber's home. “Yes ma'am.”

The house interior was modern and warm. The decoration was a little stale or as Syrae can brutally put it, featureles. But their shower probably didn't pour out rocks, so she couldn't really be opinionated about the interior of Terry's home.

What caught her eyes the most was the set up in the middle of the living room. Some small easels and canvases. Trays filled with fruit, a meat and cheese platter, some confectionery snacks and wine glasses.

It looked sweet, cozy… but definitely not platonic. Not platonic at all.

“Here, let me take your coat.” Terry's voice filtered through her thundering thoughts in a soft whisper.

Syrae felt his fingertips brushing against her clothed shoulders, smoothly dropping the coat from her body as if it were a practised act, one that emphasized comfort they weren't allowed to have with each other. Not with the way they both felt a jolt of electricity from contact so minimal.

Syrae let him, shrugged the heavy article off her body then turned to face him as he hung it on the coat rack near the door. His coat was off too, and his muscles poked through the fitted turtleneck he wore.

“What's up with the cute setup?” Syrae broke the uncomfortable ice that laid heavy on her heart. She then prayed that it wasn't for her, then begged to the Lord that this man did not have that much audacity.

Terry looked over Syrae's shoulder, finally remembering that he hadn't cleared the surprise he had for Amber's return. “Fuck, forgot ‘bout those. I'ma clear up now.”

He took brisk steps towards the kitchen, opened some cabinets. However, the way Terry banged them on their hinges was a clear indication that there was more to his sour mood that Syrae didn't know about.

He had been trying to hide it since he picked her up with a few jokes, but it always creeped its way back to his face and poke his throat till he sounded a little too snappy.

“You want somethin’ to drink?”

His question broke through the incoherent thoughts that flew into one another, forming one huge blurb of uncertainty and concern through Syrae's brain.

Her legs had a mind of their own, she followed him into the kitchen, hanging by the entrance to investigate his mood further. Which wasn't really much of a problem, Syrae had learned that Terry was very expressive. His face could never hide how he's feeling.

And now, he was either pissed, annoyed or perhaps even both. That much was obvious by how deep his brows dug into his skin, creating doubt-filled crevices in the middle of his forehead, they filtered into his brain in the form of risky decisions and pettiness.

“Terry, are you-”

“I've got some whiskey, wine if you like red.” Terry spoke, hurried strings of words plunged together to create an incoherent mumble. He moved around the kitchen, getting his bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

Syrae tried calling out again, taking a few tentative steps closer. Her observations were now proven factual. He was pissed, or annoyed, or both.

“That one's for special occasions, though.”

Ignore ignore ignore, that was the game he was playing. Didn't want to relieve the bitter lump in his throat, would rather wash it away with some burning liquor. He mumbled his thoughts out more, less vigilant of the suffocating scent of spicy vanilla and… was that mango?

“Terrence.”

Syrae put her hands on his softly before he was about to pour the whiskey into his glass. She frowned up at him. Then their gazes finally met, and fuck she wished for once when their together that the stars would stop shining and the dragonflies would stop fluttering their damn wings in her stomach. She was getting fed up with the nausea that accompanied them.

“What about some tea?” She asked with a raised brow as she pried the bottle from his hands, propped the lid on before setting it on the side. “If you have.”

Terry swallowed the lump in his throat, and along went his defiance when he stared into Syrae's starry eyes, the very same eyes that pulled the strings of his heart that sang harmonious declarations of untold feelings.

“Yeah… yeah, tea is good.” He nodded, voice distant as his gaze tore away from Syrae and suddenly, everything else was interesting. The tile pattern on the kitchen floor, the colour palette of the cabinets. He needed something to do. “I've got black tea, let me make you a cup.”

“How ‘bout I make it? Just tell me where everythin’ is.”

Terry nodded yet again, showed her where everything was before she put some water to boil.

There was a pregnant silence that covered them.both as they stood awkwardly in the kitchen. Terry had his arms folded, leaning back against the counters as he tried to gather comprehensible bits of his booming thoughts.

Syrae fidgeted in one spot, her feet bouncing about as she contemplated asking what was wrong. Terry must've invited her out for a reason. Something must've been bothering him, and he didn't really feel like being annoying.

“Rae.” Terry called out with a bit of humour in this voice, so subtle others would have missed it. “Ask what you wanna ask.”

Syrae frowned. First, he brought the stars closer to her, and now he's a mind reader? She turned to face him, a sheepish grin on her face. “Huh?”

“You're mumbling. So ask what you want to ask.” Terry repeated with a grin of his own dancing on his face. Lips slightly curved upwards.

“You okay?” Syrae wasted no time to ask, wanted to pretend a little longer that them being friends could work out. And as a pretend friend, the least she could do was hear her friends problems and help him through it where she could.

“Yeah, I'm alright. Why do you-”

“No, I mean really okay.” Syrae repeated, not really in the mood to play cat and mouse with this conversation. “You seem a little…”

Terry sighed and hummed in agreement. No further words were needed to know what Syrae was talking about. He tried to get back on track after the airport incident, but that was such a failure he closed his shop for the day to get it together.

Terry couldn't figure why he was so bothered by Amber’s postponing. While he did miss her, heavily at that. This wasn't the first time Amber was gone this long for work. Perhaps he hadn't gotten used to it, or maybe he had a false belief that things would change after they got married.

“Well?” Syrae pushed, her head tilted cutely to the side, the frown yet to be relieved from her face. “What's wrong, Soldier?” her voice softened as she inquired, maybe a softer approach to this would make him more open to answering her question.

Terry couldn't dwell on her actual question for long. His mind wouldn't let him, not with Syrae using that name on him. While he had been called that before, it sounded different coming from her. The syllables rolled off her tongue so effortlessly it was as if she bled to entice him.

Terry shook his thoughts out of his head, cleansed the crevices and groves of his brain of any impurity.

Then he told Syrae about all that was bothering him. Amber constantly postponing her return back home, the missed calls, and texts. While her job was always demanding, it has never been this demanding.

The kettle had long stopped boiling, but Syrae didn't dare move from her spot. She listened intently, nodding along to every word that echoed in a smooth baritone through the space that suddenly felt small with the way Terry's presence loomed over her waking thoughts, the sensible ones that is.

Once he was done, Terry inhaled deeply, and as he exhaled, he could feel the tension lift away from his once heavy shoulders. Talking out his frustrations seemed to do enough to relieve him.

“Look, T. I get it, okay? You miss your wife, and I can't blame you. But It just sounds like she's an ambitious woman tryin’ to climb up the corporate ladder.” Syrae explained with a tentative shrug.

“And with her being a woman, that means she had to work two times as hard just to be on the same level as someone who don't even put in the same amount of work.”

Terry sighed, his frustration riding into guilt. Not only was Amber a woman, but she was a black woman. Intersectionality only made her climb up the corporate ladder harder than what was fair. “Fuck, I ain't think about it like that.” He responded, scratching his goatee while in deep thought.

Syrae hummed, a sombre smile on her face as she turned her back to him to get started with the tea. “So give her some grace. She'll come back to you.” She offered words of comfort before looking at Terry over her shoulder. “How many sugars?”

“Two, thanks.” Terry responded before they slipped into a comfortable silence while Syrae made their tea.

The silence didn't last long. Soon, they were onto asking the other questions. Nothing that would make the atmosphere uncomfortable. They've been in many similar situations, and Syrae could not jeopardize promises of a platonic friendship because of probing curiosity.

Not Syrae at least, because Terry did not mind probing one bit.

“Where'd you learn to dance like that?”

Their cups of tea were long abandoned on Terry's side table. The middle of the living room now cleared of the painting setup. They indulged in one another instead, taking a few sips too many of getting to know one another. Getting to know Syrae tasted somewhat like the whiskey he so badly craved earlier, smooth and easing to the mind.

Syrae chuckled in shock, never had she been asked that. Not by Broisa, Randy or anybody else. She just made money and went along with it.

“Oh, my mama owned a dance studio for middle-aged women.” Syrae responded, the corner of her lips lifting slightly as she fiddled with her fingers.

“Your mama taught middle-aged women how to strip?” Terry asked with a thick brow raised.

“No, silly.” Syrae laughed yet again, her eyes rolling into her lids. “She taught ‘em how to pole-dance and a few other things.”

“There's a difference?”

Syrae nodded, her eyes lifting to meet his with practised ease. She wished he would stop staring at her so intensely. Brows dipped, head down-turned, and bottom lip caught between his teeth. She fluttered her eyes away before she could get caught into a little staring contest that would not end with her leaving his home.

“Sure is. One you do for money, the other you do ‘cause you want to.” Syrae explained with a nonchalant shrug, “Anyway, sometimes she would take me to work with her and I would watch. Few years down the line, she was teachin’ me too.”

Syrae laughed as she recalled the countless times her mother had hit her upside her head for getting a step wrong or slacking. Dancing was always her mother's passion. That woman bled through her platform heels.

Terry didn't miss the melancholy in the way Syrae spoke, he also didn't miss the way she spoke of her mother in past tense.

“What happened to the studio?” He inquired, innocently so, yet the question alone caused Syrae to wince softly.

“Repossessed. Too many debts to keep it running.”

Terry hummed, understanding the struggles to maintain a life that didn't include poverty. “And your mom?”

Syrae winced again, this time a bit louder, the sound followed by laughter that sounded a little bitter to Terry.

“Damn, soldier. Take me out to dinner first.”

Terry’s shoulder shook as he let out smooth honey-filled laughter. The sound glazed over Syrae, sticking on her leaving a thick residue of pure wanton.

“Where you wanna go?” his expression quickly changed into a serious one, but the soft upturn of his lips gave away his playfulness.

“Please, don't start.” Syrae laughed, her head shaking at his silliness. There was a beat of silence, it wasn't uncomfortable, but expectancy hung in the air. Syrae's eyes found Terry, only to see his face turned serious.

“Oh you actually want to know?” Syrae asked, raised brows and an open mouth.

“Wouldn't be askin’ otherwise.” Terry shrugged, “But no pressure.”

Another beat of silence filled the air, droplets of discomfort filling the air that it had Syrae looking around the space for any distraction. Her eyes caught a vinyl player in the corner of the room, sitting on the TV-stand. “You have a vinyl player?” She turned towards Terry in shock.

She had always wanted one, but finances had made it hard for her to even save for one. She preferred listening to music that way, especially with the few records she’s got.

She got up from her seat, walking towards the display of records. “You mind?” She asked without looking at him, her fingers across the thick stack of records on one of the shelves.

“Not at all.” Terry responded with a smile before getting up himself. His feet with a mind of their own, walked closely behind her as she admired the antique player and the records he kept maintained and clean.

Syrae pulled out a single record that caught her eyes. “What you know ‘bout Nina Simone, boy?” She looked at the laminated record cover of one of her favourite songs, a small smile dancing on her lips as she lifted her eyes to meet her favourite shade of green.

“Me? Girl, you dont know nothin’ bout this. Sit down somewhere.” Terry laughed, waving a playful dismissive hand at her. He watched the smile widen on Syrae’s face. And his favourite fluttery feeling in his stomach came back, with the voice that was the complete opposite of reason urging him to forget all morals and claim her smile against his lips. Capture her happiness as if it were his own.

Syrae smacked her teeth, “You don’t know me.” She retorted before turning around. She placed the vinyl on the platter of the turntable. She turned on the player, pressed play before aligning the cueing lever with the record, and in a matter of seconds, the strings and keys of I Put A Spell On You filled the living room.

Syrae immediately sang along, swaying along with the tempo of the song. A smooth baritone filled her ear behind her, and she turned to find that Terry was singing along with her, harmonizing beautifully with her. Like their souls were singing symphonies to each other.

I put a spell on you, because you’re mine

You better stop the things you do

I ain’t lyin’, no, I ain’t lyin’

They smiled at each other, their feet dancing towards each other, hearts pulling on the adamant string until they were swaying in sync.

“You know I can’t stand it, you runnin’ around.” Terry sang lyrics, his fingers snapping to the soft bass of the music.

“You know better, daddy.” Syrae finished off, and by then they were toe-to-toe. Eyes glued to one another, smiles adhesive on their faces. Cocoons raptured and butterflies fluttered about, and the universe collapsed as stars fell all over them, covering them in a starry light and untold stories of intertwined souls.

Terry imitated the trumpet solo with his hands and mouth, and that drew a laugh from Syrae’s stomach as she shook her head at him. Now they’re chest-to-chest.

“I love you, I love you. I love you, I love you anyhow.” Syrae recited, her eyes slowly blinking as the room seemed to dim. And all the light came from the brightness of his smile, the songs being sung from the want in his eyes.

Terry’s movements slowed, smile faltering as the lyrics didn't sound like lyrics anymore. But a promise, one that filled his heart with hope but his head with guilt.He saw galaxies in her eyes again, a starry gaze that willed his hands on her waist, barely touching, yet he could feel the static. *I don't care if you don’t want me.*

*I’m yours right now.* Her heart soared. Hands grazing his shoulder, then they began swaying on the living room floor of Terry’s house, the one he shared with his wife, who wasn’t the person he was dancing with.

“I put a spell on you.” Syrae whispered, fingers grazing the back of his neck and his gently placed across her back.

“Because you’re mine.” Terry attempted to scat along with Nina, which he failed at miserably. But anything to hear her laugh again.

And he succeeded at that. Heart beat faster, butterflies fluttering more intensely at the sound of her giggle filled his ears in a harmonious melody, enticing a slow dance from his heart as their bodies molded together to do the same.

Syrae shook her head at him, “You so silly.” She said breathlessly.

Terry knew by then just how close their faces were when her warm breath fanned against his lips in a quiet plea for the smallest and most desperate of kisses. Noses nudging against each other.

There’s silence, silence filled with unspoken words as their gazes flickered from one eye to the other, then their noses and finally their lips.

When Syrae heard the keys of ‘Tomorrow Is My Turn’, she blinked rapidly before clearing her throat. Her hands detached from his hot skin, eyes from his face, and she swore she felt the painful tug from her heart. “I- I forgot there’s somewhere I gotta be.”

She detached from his body fully. Only a few steps away from his, but her body chilled as if he were half-way across he world.

“Yeah, of course. You… you need a lift-”

“No! I mean, nah. I’m good, I’ll just uber.” She scratched her head as she paced around the living room. Muttering to herself as she cleared the checklist in her head. Phone? Check. Bag? Check. She was missing something.

“Why would you waste your money when I could give you a ride?” Terry asked with a frown, he just wanted to make sure it wasn't awkward between them again. And that when she got home she wouldn't go back to ghosting him

Syrae sighed as she ordered the Uber anyway. She wouldn't look his way, didn't want her faltering resolve to collapse completely under the heat of his stare. “Terry, I’m good.”She forced out as she stared at her screen. The driver was two minutes away.

“Syrae… come on-” Terry attempted to reason with her. His voice was shaky, and his fists clenched at his sides. He wanted. No needed to know that they’re okay.

“Terry, I’m good. We’re good.” She finally turned to face him, swallowing the lump in her throat when she met his desperate eyes. “I’ll text you when I get home, I just really need to go right now.” She croaked.

“My uber almost here… walk me out?” She beckoned with her head towards the door.

Terry nodded and walked closely behind her, reaching over her shoulder to open the door before he followed behind her towards the sidewalk.

The breeze wasn't as unforgiving as when they first got into the home, and there was a little sunlight peeking out of shielding clouds. They waited silently, those few minutes until the car got here. And when it did, Terry never wished that a car would break down as much as he did at that moment.

“Text me, Rae. I’m serious.” Terry insisted with his eyebrows dipped into a frown as he looked down at her, his arms crossed against his chest once he felt his hands twitching to touch her, but they’ve crossed too many borders already.

Syrae chortled, drawing her gaze behind to where the uber waited for her. “I will.” She nodded in his direction before walking towards the silver honda. “Bye, Terry.” She waved before fitting into the car, eyes stuck on the window as the car drove away.

Terry sighed when he felt the string tug painfully at his stomach, forced to move his limbs to chase after the car or yell her name as if he were a puppet, controlled by ill-fated strings.

Days passed since then, Syrae kept her promise to text Terry, but it wasn’t as frequent to be considered satisfactory.

That and the fact that she’d woken up to soaked pantied every day since that day didn’t satisfy her decision in wanting to keep Terry at a distance away from her. The first dream occurred the day after they first kissed. They stopped for a while, until they came back.

Here she was, leaning against the sink of her bathroom with her face wet and her eyes focused disappointedly at her reflection. The images were vivid, yet this dream wasn’t even as vile as the ones she’d had previously.

“Terry, we said just friends.” Kiss right below her ear, she tilts her head because who was she kidding trying to take control.

“And these are friendly kisses” kiss behind her jaw, she shudders because she was stupid enough to even pursue something as mediocre as friendship with him.

“What's happenin’ in my panties is not friendly…” a laugh, a pussy fluttering laugh, how was he supposed to stop this when she said shit like that?

“Could help you with that if you let me.” kiss on her shoulder, faux reassurance he gives because they knew they shouldn't do anything with what's happening between them. A little something to keep the guilt at bay, before it eats at them the way he pined to eat on her.

And man did he eat it, messily, desperately. Like he preserved his hunger solely for her. She bit her lower lip at the vivid images. “Fuck fuck fuck.” She groaned before undressing into her steamy, running shower.

It took some effort to stop herself from drumming her fingers where she ached the most, she didn’t want to deal with the guilt she knew she would be feeling after strumming an orgasm out of her while chanting a married man’s name.

Syrae urged herself to leave the apartment. to try and get Terry out of her head.

What started off as a day of cleaning around the house and trying to get the weird, brown stain off her sofa. Which also became the fourth, futile attempt. It soon drastically changed to her pushing a cart around Walmart for new sheets and hopefully decorations.

She was speeding in between aisles with the right mind to go back home and get ahead of holiday planning, or a bit of the holiday she could spend.

The Walmart wasn't that full, given it was a weekday and only two in the afternoon. Most people were at work.

Her shopping went by swiftly, until she bumped her back into somebody while trying to decide which colour sheets she should buy.

“Ow, what the fuck?” The soft voice spoke.

“Shit. I'm so sorry, are you okay?” Syrae whips around to gauge if the person is badly hurt, only for Her to take a few steps back as she finds an all too familiar face in front of her. “I know you fucking lyin’.” She laughs, eyes as wide as her mouth.

All in her oh so fabulous Glory, is the woman she admired all throughout her highschool years. One of the people who helped Syrae navigate school, her life at home and possible sweethearts.

Amber fucking Coleman, or as Syrae does not know now Richmond.

“Well if it ain't Ms. Trouble.” Amber smiled and ran her eyes over Syrae. “I'll be damned. How you lookin’ like snack in sweats. I see some things don't change?” Amber raised a playful brow.

Syrae rolled her eyes and waved her hand at the woman. “Girl please, talking ‘bout me.” She laughed as she noticed the huge rock on her finger. Her eyebrows shot up in elated surprise. “You looking like a billion dollars while carrying another billion on your hand.”

Syrae gently took Amber's left hand into hers as she inspected her wedding ring. “When the hell did this happen and where was my invite?” She asked jokingly.

Truthfully, Syrae cut all contact with people a while after high school. Syrae couldn't handle the pressures of how her life went to complete shit while other people did well for themselves, one of them being Amber.

While others were off to university and studying. She was back home trying to help settle her mother's debts while the woman battled an illness. She missed out on so much, and soon… life caught up to her so quickly that she had to strip to make ends meet.

“Well you didn't make it easy to contact you.” Amber retorted with a frown and a tight-lipped smile. “You went ghost on everybody.”

Syrae sighed before scratching her head, “I know, I know.” She agreed, the corners of her lips curling upwards, forming a hesitant smile as her eyes softened gradually. “Life ain't go as planned… I needed to reboot.”

Amber hummed while nodding her head. “That's adulting for you.” She spoke off into the distance, as if Syrae lost her attention for a while. “Throwing whiplash your way.”

Syrae nodded with a frown, “Well you must be getting the good kind, cause you're married girl.” She laughed, trying to snap the slightly shorter woman back into reality. “Who the lucky man?”

“Tuh girl, you in my business?” Amber pokes her tongue out jokingly before laughing. “Well, I'll have you know that I was buying flowers for him, I ain't been home in a while. Wanted to give him somethin’ for my return, but these sheets are calling my nam-”

“Baby, I can't find the vases you want… come help me.”

A raspy voice spoke from behind Syrae, yet when she turned to face the man so lucky to receive Amber's affections, she was more surprised.

Her eyes flicked back to Amber, then to the man. A moment went with her eyes dancing back and forth between the two people. “Baby?” She asked, her voice sounding a bit more high-pitched than normal.

Syrae didn't expect Amber to be married to him, especially with the way he frequented the strip club like he didn't have a home, or the many times he couldn't take her rejections to a private dance well.

“Rome… I didn't know you were married.”

A/n: Y'all remember Rome?lol.

This is the fifth chapter, and I haven't written smut for them. I'm proud 🥹

Likes are appreciated, but comments and reblogs are encouraged. I've got a praise kink❤️

Taglist:

@blyffe @peachbutterfly-blog @browngirldominion @blackmoonchilee @megamindsecretlair @mogul93 @earthchica @nayaesworld @cdotmvkspaz @zillasvilla @onherereading @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat

[bloody-cupcakes]

Jason Dean x yandere/dark! reader; you surprise him with slushies for breakfast

Tw: yandere/dark content, gender neutral reader, suggestive stuff/frank sex talk as well as implied sex/smutish activities, mentions of insomnia, implied murder, the reader is very clingy and affectionate with JD (almost to a smothering amount but he doesn't mind), this is one of the more tame things I've written tbh

A/N: this is a twist on the "one character gets a blue drink and the other gets a red so naturally their tongues become purple by making out" trope. I literally wrote this in thirty minutes so I could have something posted for heathers day, which is September 1st, so if this sucks then that's why and I'm sorry (and then I got distracted and forgot so it's a day late oops)

JD used to think he hated sleeping in general, but after meeting you he just realized he hated sleeping alone. Laying in bed after downing half a bottle of melatonin gummies while waiting for sleep to kick in wasn't exactly his idea of a good time. Lucky for him, you had plenty ways of resolving that issue.

Admittedly, they did a pretty good job at working effectively given that most of them involved you physically wearing him out. Whether it was with murder or sex, either way certainly made it easier for him to slip into a state of exhaustion and conk out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

He didn't mind much. In fact, the act of you tiring him out as quickly as possible once he complained about being unable to sleep was one that he quite enjoyed. He preferred to stay with you anyway. There was nothing at his house that made it worth sticking around other than the few vague personal effects of his, and most of them he'd transferred over to your place already.

The sun was already starting to peek through the blinds when he woke up, which signified he must've slept for a good long while. That didn't surprise him given just how late the two of you had stayed up the night before, but what did surprise him was your absence. Usually you waited until he woke up to leave the bed, or at the very least told him if you were going to get up.

Thank god you walked into the room a few minutes later, because otherwise he would've started to panic, and that was definitely not something he wanted to be doing so early in the morning.

"Hey, baby," you greeted as you kicked off your shoes and set two large Styrofoam cups you'd gotten from the 7/11 near your house on the nightstand. "Did you sleep well?"

JD could practically feel his heartbeat start to slow back down once he saw you. You hadn't abandoned him, you just went out to get some slushies. No problem.

"Mh, yeah," he mumbled groggily as he sat up in the bed, watching you slip off his trenchcoat and toss it to the side. If he had been more awake, the sight of you wearing his clothes would've given him an instant boner, but the drowsiness he still felt was currently cancelling that out.

"Good, I'm glad." You sat down on the bed next to him, gently smoothing his messy hair back from his face before handing him one of the Styrofoam cups. "Here, I know how much you crave slushies the night after sex."

He gladly took the cup from you, immediately taking a big sip. "Thanks." It still felt weird, having someone being so affectionate and loving with him after everything he'd been through. A huge part of him felt like he didn't deserve it, but he knew you'd never leave him even if that was true. Something about how attached you were should've been unnerving, but JD was pretty unnerving himself so he wasn't bothered by it.

"Did you seriously wear your pajamas to go get slushies?" He asked after a moment, his brain finally catching up as he began to wake up more. The cold, sweet drink in his hands certainly helped matters.

"Well, I wasn't going to put on real clothes," you insisted lightheartedly before drinking some of your own slushie, which just so happened to be the opposite color of his. "Besides, we both know they're not going to stay on much longer anyway."

"Oh god," he muttered under his breath, though he was unable to keep the faint smirk of amusement off his face when you said that.

"Here, lemme have your drink for a moment." You placed both cups back on the nightstand before grabbing his face and pulling him in for a hungry kiss. He suddenly became very aware of the fact that he was only wearing a pair of boxers as he hadn't gotten properly dressed yet.

"C'mon, I wasn't finished," he complained with a slight huff even as he let you push him flat onto his back with no other protest.

"You can finish later. For now, I say we take the blue and red from our drinks and make purple." Your voice came out in a low tease when you spoke, your body hovering over his as you leaned down to capture his lips in another kiss.

Both of your tongues were successfully colored purple and your drinks were no longer cold when you were done, but it was so worth it.

[lilacgaby]

day five

~2.2k

chapter select!

he feels her rest in his chest as he picks her up and walks towards the medics.

the sight of her wound makes him cringe, it wasn't that horrific of a wound, but it'd definitely done some damage.

as he walked by, he was congratulated and praised by the small crowd that had gathered outside the alleyway.

he was thanked profusely by genie, as were mirko and jeanist, because they had assumed they'd just saved their life, and not that they were bait the entire time.

the victory didn't feel as glory filled as it would have normally, not when she was injured on her arm, and not because they could've got another hero seriously injured in the process.

not when it wasn't him who finished the fight. not when he just out of reach. again.

he set her down gently in the ambulance, and followed mirko and jeanist as they went back to the agency to file their reports.  he was normally pretty quiet, but anyone could tell he was preoccupied with [name]'s absence.

"cheer up loser, she'll be okay by the time you two lovers get back to the dorms later tomorrow." mirko comforted.

"you fought as best as you could, so don't worry about things that were out of your control. she fought, she won, she got hurt, but she saved people. that's what it means to be a hero."

"you can't save them all, dynamight."

jeanist finally said.

katsuki pondered the words in his head. he knew it was impossible for him to save everyone but..

it's what he expected of himself.

he grunted in acknowledgment of the two's words,

the words that were stuck in his head as he went to sleep that night.

a lot of stuff that had happened recently was still being processed in his head.

mostly the fact that he heard on the phone when mirko let her crush on him slip, that she herself had accidentally confirmed it,

and that she promised to talk about it after the quirk wore off on sunday.

he hated staying up and thinking, he loved to sleep, but he honestly couldn't fall asleep.

he was busy thinking of her.

he finally got enough comfort to close his eyes with the promise that he'd go and see her as soon as he woke up.

he'd ask her to ride the train back to musutafu together.

and on sunday,

he'd be the one to confess.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

she woke up to the sight of uncomfortable, white lights.

she was in a hospital.

she sat up and eyed the place around her.

it offered her no comfort, but since it looked to be like a hospital meant for kids and teens, there were cute butterfly decals that scattered the walls.

there was a bunny stuffed animal on the side of her bed, with a bouquet of [name]'s favorite flowers accompanying it.

she figured that all her stuff from the hotel was in the suitcase that laid against the wall, with a sticky note attached to the front.

[name] groaned a bit as she sat up, her arm wasn't as bad as she thought, the wound was actually quite small, but it was sore.

it was bandaged well, but blood was already seeping through. she'd need to get it wrapped again before leaving.

as she slowly got up and walked over to pick up the note, she looked up at the time.

it was noon, if she wanted to make it back to the dorms early she'd have to set out soon.

she looked down and read the note:

'see you soon partner! i had to run so i couldn't stay and watch over you :(

i left you a train card with funds in the left pocket,

so text me when you get to the dorms!

- rumi <3'

she smiled at the note, and mentally noted that she had a working card.

as she slowly stretched out her legs, being mindful of her arm, a nurse knocked before coming in.

"good morning ms. [name], how are you feeling this afternoon?"

"sore, but surprisingly not that bad."

"that's good to hear! the doctor asked me to relay a message on your arms condition for you.

while your arm itself will heal just fine, you'll need to get check-ups every month to make sure no nerve damage has been done. you see, that quirk worked by canceling any signal recieved by your receptors in your arm, but since you can move it slightly, i'd be hopeful for a full recovery.

on another note, you have a visitor. would you like me to ask them to wait until you've changed?"

"yes, i hate this gown."

"oh, well alright! i'll call them up in thirty minutes. also, i'll arrange someone to come and wrap your arm again."

"thank you."

her mind wandered as the implications of what she'd just been told set in.

there was a real possibility she could've been left without an arm.

oh well. can't worry about things that didn't happen.

but, the thing she was most happy about was that the oversharing nature of the quirk was something she'd be happy to lose, and all left was one full day.

she changed into civilian wear she found in her bag, and chose something that'd cover the wound on her arm. the hospital lights weren't doing her any favors, but she'd be gone soon anyways.

a knock at the door and an entry took her attention.

it was a nurse, who came to change her arm's casting.

"you can look away if you don't want so see this." the nurse advised, as she slowly took off the cast.

"no, i'm okay."

the wound wasn't pretty. it was stitched closed but it was pretty obvious that they had to use a graft from some other part of the body, because a bit of her internals were showing through.

as fast as she saw it, it left, expertly wrapped once again.

"take a visit to recovery girl once you get back on campus, it'll speed up your recovery and get your arm back to normal."

"okay, thank you."

the nurse bowed as she walked out. just as she was going to shut the door behind her, she eyed someone and held the door open for them.

inside came bakugo, who walked in with a single rose in his hand, and his bag of belongings slung around his back.

"hey."

"oh, hey katsuki. thought you'd already be at the dorms by now."

he held out the rose as he said, "couldn't leave, i was thinking about you."

she flushed, grabbing the rose appreciately. "aw, you didn't have to."

"you were, really cool yesterday. you were the reason we won so, i had to."

"thanks katsuki, but you did great too! i couldnt really focus.. but i saw you handling those other guys like they were nothing."

she praised as she decided to put the rose in with the bouquet mirko had gifted her, it was placed smack in the middle, contrasting with the others.

he was glad she turned away, as she missed the pink tint of his face.

"yeah, obviously i was gonna do great. it was just surprising to see someone rise on my level, that's all."

"aww katsuki!"

"be quiet."

she smiled as she finished putting everything away. katsuki scratched the back of his head as he finally just came out and said it.

"so, uh.. let's go on the train together."

"hm? okay, sounds cool."

"just take the damn bunny and shit, i got your bag."

"huh? i got it--"

"you're injured. let me do this for you."

he didn't hear another word before he walked out, waiting for her in the hallway.

she shrugged and turned back, finishing gathering her things, grabbing the bunny and bouquet, before putting on her shoes, and stepping out.

"let's go."

she nodded, and they walked to the train station together.

before katsuki could tell her not to, she paid for both their tickets using the funds from mirko.

he angrily muttered that she beat him to the punch.

the train to musutafu was empty again, besides the two of them.

they sat next to eachother, eyeing the scenery of the city.

"thanks katsuki."

"for what?"

"i was so scared. so nervous, i really needed you back there. and you came through."

"it's okay to be scared, but you don't have to be.

especially when im around. i'm number one, so i'll protect you. and don't forget that you're strong enough to protect yourself too."

she laid her head on his shoulder, after a few moments he laid his on hers.

the bunny was sat in a seat next to them, holding the flowers she was gifted.

he took the initiative to hold her hand on his lap.

she let out a soft smile, and tightened her hold on his hand.

she let out a yawn as she fell asleep on his shoulder.

"wake me up when we get there."

after he was safely sure she was fast asleep, he sighed heavily, trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

"[name],

hey [name], wake up."

she stirred awake, the sun was setting outside the window, and she was still laying on his shoulder and her hand was still in his.

"oh, g'morning katsuki." she said, still half asleep.

"it's six, dumbass."

"oh, good afternoon then." she gently let go of his hand, stood up, and stretched,

"you ready to be back with our gang of idiots katsuki?"

"yeah, i just wanna go to my dorm."

"oh yeah, you didn't get to borrow my manga last time! i'll sneak to your room later and give it to you."

"what if you get caught idiot?"

"well, i almost died yesterday so, i think ill get sympathy points or something."

"you're insane."

the intercom overhead announced their arrival, bakugo grabbed her suitcase and his own bag, as she grabbed her bunny and flowers.

she stuck out her hand and intertwined it with his.

they walked hand-in-hand back to the dorms where suprisingly,

no one else was.

"guess we're early huh?"

"why are none of those other idiots here?!"

"i think that maybe their missions were extended or they're just coming late. if you're really so interested, just text them!"

"i'd rather die."

"oh.. uh- anyway, this is better! i'll give your manga and then you can head to bed.

he thought it over, before the ghost of a smile came onto his face,

"yeah, that sounds good [name]."

katsuki carried her luggage up to her dorms, she set the bouquet and bunny onto her bed, and grabbed the bag of manga that he'd left behind that one day.

she grabbed his hand and dragged him over to his room.

"okay, since you're taking so many of mine, i'll treat myself to your library, k?"

"uh- fine i guess."

"okay!"

she handed him the bag full of manga, and he laid down, starting to read the next volume of maid-sama.

meanwhile, she pulled the cubby of his shoujo manga he hoarded under his bed. she grabbed the first volume of 'nana' and held it up.

"is this any good?"

"is this any good- it's peak. you better like it."

she laid next to him, starting to read.

the two read for literal hours, [name] groaning when she had to go back to his cubby and grab the next volume.

in all. katsuki blazed through the manga she brought, finishing all but two volumes of maid sama before he'd need to go back to her collection.

[name] read four volumes of nana, the exhaustion from her mission and being on a train setting in.

katsuki noticed her slowing down. she was flipping through pages slower, her head fighting to stay up on the uninjured arm holding it up.

eventually, she fell asleep again.

katsuki, who didn't have the heart, or will, to kick his crush out his bed, laid a respectable distance away from her.

what he didn't expect though, was for her to cling to the closest thing to her, which was him.

with her at his side, her arms slung around his body with surprising strength, he accepted his fate and wrapped his arm around her as he used the other one to cover them with a blanket.

he was about to go to sleep, when he felt his phone start blowing up.

he was suddenly added to a group called..

'OPERATION [NAME] x BAKUGO'

he clicked on the notification.

9:36

flowered[name] was kicked out the group

redrioter109

no way bakubro actually responds dude

altspiderman

that's what i'm sayin

alienqueenslime

he won't respond but he can read

BAKUGO I SEE YOU

read 9:39

shit, he left read receipts on.

redrioter109

bro confess to [name] on sunday

she likes u so just do it

alienqueenslime

DO IT

YOU WONT

el3ctrifying

hes too chicken

he rlly wont

                                                      allmightsolos01

                                                                        fuck you

                                                                        yes i will

                                                                      delivered

he turned off his phone and muted the conversation.

he looked at [name] in his arms and felt his heart explode.

figuratively.

he closed his eyes and fell asleep, their soft, sleepy breaths a lullaby that lulled him into a calm, deep sleep.

he'd confess,

he'd make sure of it.

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taglist (comment to be added!): @cc1306 @reads-stuff-quietly @dazqa @teenagetrash00 @jennapancake @sakurarr1122

[enhafilthandfiction]

Enhypen hyung line reaction to you walking around naked in the house to lighten their mood when they are mad

Hyungline's reaction to you walking around naked when they're mad

A/N : Hello anon, thanks for requesting! Sorry for the long title y'all, happy reading!!

Pairing : Bf!HyungLine X Fem!Reader

Warnings : Nudeness, kisses, grinding, tit groping, mentions of oral (f.rec), thigh riding, mentions of angry sex.

Word Count : 1,250 Words

Masterlist

» Lee Heeseung «

He was still frustrated with yesterday's recording session which didn't go so well. Apparently, his voice kept cracking and he couldn't hit the correct notes which is why he came home so upset, basically ignoring you and heading to bed early.

You knew he wasn't mad at you, just upset with himself, but the fact that he ignored you was annoying. Today he wasn't going to however.

He woke up grumpy, just like yesterday, groaning and sighing out in frustration as he thought of the day before. You weren't even in the bed, which upset him even more.

But as he gets up to go to the bathroom for his morning routine, he catches a glimpse of your naked form down the hallway. He stops in his tracks, watching as you enter the washroom, possibly doing the laundry.

He makes his way down the hallway, entering the washroom to see that he was right, finding you bent over, picking up clothes from the floor.

"Well what do we have here" he says, startling you a little, but you smirk, your plan going as planned. He places his hands on your hips, pulling your bare ass back to his clothed crotch, where you could already feel a bulge forming.

"Hi baby" you say, turning around to properly greet him, his eyes going wide as you flash him with your tits. He takes a second to respond, being too focused on your tits, hands coming up to grope them and message them in his hands.

"Uh- I-I'm doing fine, now" he adds, eyes still focused on your tits. "Yeah, now I'm definitely fine" he clarifies, before you giggle and get on your tiptoes, grasping his lips in a kiss. He kisses you back, his tongue pocking your lips already.

"Ew, go brush your teeth and come back" you say, breaking the kiss and continuing what you were doing. He rolls his eyes and makes his way to the bathroom, mumbling a "Be right back" and he was right back; In 2 minutes.

» Park Jay «

Today was just not it for him. Everything he was doing seemed to be wrong, even when he tried cooking something. All he tried to cook was some ramen, but he accidentally forgot it and it kinda over cooked, making the ramen soggy.

He had had enough, and you realised, but you didn't expect him to slam the pot on the counter, the banging noise alerting you. You wanted to calm him down a little, and you knew just what to do, undressing yourself and making your way over to him to distract him. How can he be mad at you?

The second he noticed your pretty naked figure walking around the kitchen counter and over to him, he felt his heart beating faster, but not because of how angry he was seconds ago.

You came behind him and wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing your face into his back. "Hi baby, everything okay?" you asked him with a soft tone, acting as if you weren't naked.

"Well, I messed up my ramen, but it's okay cause you're here" he assures, turning around to get a better view of your bare body. "Gosh you're just what I need Y/n" he admits, running his hands along your body.

"Yeah?" you ask him, giggling and watching as he nods.

"Who want to eat ramen when I can eat you anyways?" he says shamelessly picking you up with ease and taking you to the bedroom. You squirmed around in his hold, begging him to let you down.

He put you down on the bed and got between your legs, ready to distract himself from his though day.

» Sim Jake «

"I've told you like a hundredth times now, for fuck's sake!" You can hear Jake yell on the phone from the other room, and from what you can understand, he was having trouble with work again.

"No- Cancel that meeting and move it Monday instead" he orders, his patience being tested a little too much "Are you stupid? I literally asked you to do something-"

bla bla bla

You were tired of hearing him yell at his stupid assistant who couldn't do something right. You wanted to soothe him, but you were also pretty horny. The button up he was wearing was so hot, especially with the first few buttons open.

Your fantasies almost started to run before you got an idea. You took off your clothes until you were completely naked. Oh this was going to be a good distraction. You walk out of the room and make your way over to the main living room where Jake was in.

You walked around like you weren't naked, ignoring his gaze and pretending to check if the shelves had any dust. You could hear him sigh, turning around to face him and watching as he motions you over.

He places the phone down and mutes it. "Hold on give me a minute" he barely finishes his sentence before muting it and placing it on the coffee table, ignoring his assistant's annoying voice. "You're so pretty baby" he simply says, running his hands down from your shoulders to your ass, giving it a squeeze. "But I have to take this call, so be quiet"

You pout as he grabs the phone again, placing it to his ear before sitting down on the couch, beckoning you over. He makes you sit on his thigh, placing his free hand on your lower back, guiding you back and forth on his thigh whilst sharing glances with you and mouthing words. "You're doing so well baby, keep going"

His voice was much calmer when talking to his assistant, your presence distracting him when he gets to angry.

» Park Sunghoon «

You and Sunghoon had just had a rough fight just a few hours ago. You had complained to him that you were doing all the chores in the house and that he was breaking his promise of helping out. He on the other hand, claimed that he couldn't help with he house chores since he was too busy with work.

You both yelled at each other, accusing one another until he got mad and went outside for a walk. Once he was out, you couldn't stop thinking about him, you were still partly angry at him but also kinda horny for how riled up he got.

You decided to calm down his nerves a little, undressing yourself as you head to the kitchen to start dinner. He came back shortly, maybe after 15 minutes, only to find you fully naked, cooking dinner. "Oh, so this is your way of making up?" he asks, scoffing.

You shrug and continue what you were doing, paying him no mind, waiting for him to break. Which he did shortly. He made his way over to you, pressing his body up against you. "What do you want huh?" He asks you, almost starting to grind against you.

"I want you to do the dishes after dinner" you said with a forced smile.

"Fine, but you gotta let me fuck you first" before you could do anything, he pulls you out of the kitchen and throws you on the couch, getting undressed himself before climbing up behind you.

"I'm gonna fuck you so good you're gonna forget why we were arguing in the first place" and he did, taking his and your anger out by fucking you hard and fast, till all you could think about was him.

Hello, this was actually fun to write, proudly wrote it in one sitting!! I hope you enjoyed reading, have a good day/night and remember that ily <333