#you can argue that they should have tried harder to help him but he was trying to act like there wasn’t anything going on

[sukunastoy]

Only Love Can Hurt Like This, Chapter 3 (CEO! Sukuna x Fem! Reader, MDNI)

⭐This is a redo of my story, Shameful Attraction. I've rewritten it as I originally wanted so long ago. I was trying to write it to appease people and once I let go of that and just started to enjoy the story for itself, the flow became a lot better. For those who read it before, there are major changes you'll notice. For those who haven't read it at all before, I hope you enjoy. <3⭐

⬇️PLEASE READ BEFORE STARTING THE STORY! ⬇️

Modern age AU, no curses. Sukuna still has his tattoos, but his face ones are carefully hidden. This story is set in Japan, and I've done my best to impliment real life into it. For example, tattoos in Japan are still taboo, and people associate them with the yakuza, so its not normal to see everyday people have them. Though I know I won't have all the details of modern day life in Japan correct, I hope you still enjoy.

Pairings: CEO Sukuna x Fem Reader Content/Trigger Warnings: This story has a lot of abuse in it. Reader is in an abusive relationship with her fiance, Toji. There are several moments in the story that highlight this including, but not limited to, acts of violence and aggression towards reader, including name calling, shoving, punching, sexual assault, being manipulated, unwanted bondage and containment, food denial, being drugged etc. Reader is thin, not allowed to eat a lot per Toji's rules in regards to her weight. If she feels like she is gaining weight, she will make herself throw up after meals. Reader also struggles through depression though often hides it through masking, however there are ocassional thoughts of suicide when some scenarios are too extreme to cope with. She's scared to leave, assumes she could never get away, so just deals with it all as she doesn't know what else to do. Wordcount: 3.6k+ I hope you enjoy! <3

Thursday, 9:02 AM

Sukuna had you sit down at the dining room table, and you held your arms while starting out one of the nearby floor to ceiling windows. This penthouse was enormous. Though you tried not to be nosy and look around, you just couldn't help it. You longed for this type of life so much, hating how you threw it all away for a man who pretended to love you just so he could get his hooks dug deep into your skin, never letting you leave. You should have been in some luxorious place like this. Not that shithole apartment where the ceilings were too low, some of the windows were cracked, the neighbors were obnoxiously loud and half the time the plumbing seemed to fail. You tried not to blame your parents, but damn. Sure, you were still just a kid, but you wished they had fought harder for you. Maybe if they had been more involved in your life, you would have listened to them easier. You wish they would have just locked you up until you got over your teenage drama. Or had gotten Toji arrested for taking advantage of you.

Your phone pinged and you took it from your back, a heavy frown pulling the edges of your lips down. Speak of the devil. Though you had told Toji you'd be out here for the weekend, apparently that seemed to have slipped his mind. Cause he was demanding to know where you were. You're not surprised. He was probably too drunk last night, and had forgot all the plans you had told him. While arguing with him over text messaging, you didn't notice Sukuna come out from his room. Toji was already stressing you out, making you want to toss your phone across the room in anger. It wasn't until he started facetiming you that it made your anger turn into fear. It was easier to talk to him when you didn't have to see nor hear him.

"You need to take that?" Sukuna's low voice caught you off guard as he was now standing near you, getsuring towards your phone. You went to speak, but the words got caught in your throat as your eyes fell over his chest, unintentionally gliding down to his abs, your gaze tracing over the black lines painted over his tone, tanned skin. Holy shit, he was gorgeous, so fit and well maintained. Your phone ringing in your hand again knocked you out of your trance, and you stammered while pulling your eyes away and looking down to the screen.

Toji would make you show the room, you knew how this worked. And you were sitting in the dining room of this luxorious penthouse with a guy you didn't know who had his shirt unbuttoned and in full view of you. Fuck, he'd be convinced you were out here cheating on him. Your sides started to heave in panic as you looked around almost desperately, trying to find an area that could pass off as an office building somehow.

"I...I need to step outside." You quickly said, not sure what else to do. If you made Toji wait much longer, there'd be hell for you to pay. "Just step out onto the balcony." Sukuna gestured and you wasted no time to rush past him. Your shaking hand fumbled with the lock but you slid the door open quickly, nearly stumbling out of the threshold. You immediately turned your back from the door, trying to angle the city in the background as you answered the call, already knowing you were going to have to lie for half of this.

["H-Hey, sorry I was...was in an interview."] You nearly panted out, trying not to let your eyes flick around in worry. It was obvious this balcony was some rich persons relaxation area, not something that was professional. ["I don't give a fuck what you were doing. Why the hell did it take so long to answer? You know the rules."] Toji grumbled, throwing back a beer despite it being so early in the day. ["I know, but, I wasn't allowed to answer my phone inside. So I stepped out to the floor's balcony."] ["Oh yeah? What job is it?"] Oh shit. You wanted to glance away to think, to come up with a decent lie, but he'd catch that gesture. ["An assistant job, kinda like what I do now, but, a better paying one."] ["Mmhm. Whats the company?"] You swear your heart just stopped, not even sure how to reply. You were just trying to make shit up in the moment. ["I...I'm not sure, honestly. They were just, open for hiring and I walked in, not even paying attention to the details, just, trying to find something as soon as possible."] ["Why do you fucking lie to me?"] He scoffed while obviously trying to look at your background. ["I-I'm not, Toji I swear I'm not. I'm just trying to find anything I can."] ["Where the fuck are you? Show the area."] ["Toji, please I need to get back inside. If I keep them waiting they might-" ["And if you keep me waiting I'm going to beat your ass when you get home. I'm not asking, I'm fucking telling you to show me the area. You know why? Cause I don't fucking believe you. And if you were telling the truth, you'd easily do what you're told."] You heavily sighed, knowing you were getting in trouble no matter what. ["Toji, I don't have time for this, I have to go back in. I'm sorry."] You quickly said before hanging up. You didn't even want to begin to imagine what he was going to do to you when you got home. But if you did show the space, you knew the punishment would be even worse if he found out you were at some guys penthouse. Despite you not being here for ill intentions, he wouldn't care. Hell, Toji was the type who would come looking for this guy. 

-----

Sukuna glanced from the window in his kitchen, able to see her from where he was. She was clearly bothered by something, and he could only continue to assume it was cause of a miserable home life. Though she tried to keep some sort of composure, it faltered so easily. He turned his attention back to what he was doing, not really interested in the personal problems of others. Though he frowned to himself upon realizing he was preparing food for her. His eyes flicked back to her out the window for just a second. Even an idiot could see that she didn't get to eat a lot. Normally he would eat in his office, ordering some take out, but since he wasn't going in, might as well make something to eat here. An angered yell caught his attention, and he looked to the window while by the stove to see her prepared to throw her phone from the balcony. She gripped the device tightly in her hand, huffing while trying to restrain from taking her anger out on the phone. But alas, she shook it in her hand before letting it fall to the balcony floor instead. With her hands free, she gripped onto the balcony railing, slowly moving forward and back in an obvious display of self soothing as her head hung low. He could only begin to imagine the bullshit she put up with on the daily to cause her to be like this. Well, she wouldn't be the first woman he's entertained who had a shitty man at home. And he certainly didn't mind being the shoulder to cry on, or the dick to ride on.

-----

You stared up to the sky, face still sticky with your angered tears. Why was Toji such an asshole? He had to be such a pain in your life. Acting as if you weren't out here trying to find a job. Fuck. A fucking job. You still needed to resolve this major issue. You picked up your poor phone, just greatful you didn't actually chuck it from the balcony. Toji was the issue, not your phone. Though the thought of throwing it and letting it shatter on the ground below was a relieving idea, it would just make your day even worse. You casually went back inside, trying to quietly shut the door, embarassment starting to creep up through your chest. What a shitty morning. Sulking back to the dining room table, you sat down quietly, pretending as if you never left the spot. Unfortunately, thoughts of how Toji was going to beat your ass when you got home plagued your mind. He'd probably lock you in the crate for this. Since it was near the weekend, it could last for a couple days. Your lip quivered at the thought.  Honestly,  you'd rather just take a beating and get it over with. Being locked inside that crate for any amount of time was some of the worst torture he's ever come up with. It was beyond cramped, and dark, and you couldn't move or breathe. It just spiked your anxiety and panic and-

"I'm, sorry." You murmured, seeing Sukuna come from the kitchen towards you, snapping you out of the start of a spiral. He offered a soft rag and you looked up to him smiling weakly, slowly taking it from him. "Thanks. I'm so sorry, just, there are, family problems, someone is ill so, everyone is just so stressed out right now."

You laughed nervously, offering some stupid lie, hoping he'd accept it. Sukuna sat down at the table across from you, setting his coffee mug off to the side and resting his elbow on the table, chin atop his knuckles while he watched your whole body tremble as you stared down to the table blankly. "Does your man always talk to you like that?" He said bluntly, making your head snap up in attention. Yeah. He most likely heard some of that bullshit. How embarassing. How the hell were you supposed to answer that? "I'm sorry, I've completely ruined your morning." You said softly, eyes falling back to the table while hoping to dismiss this situation. You dabbed the soft rag to your eyes, trying to dry some of your tears. Watching you for a moment, Sukuna let a gentle smile come across his face while giving a small chuckle. "You didn't ruin it at all, pretty little thing." A gulp lodged in your throat at his charming voice and demeanor and your gaze went back to his in near desperation.  Pretty?  He said it again. However you felt far from pretty. With your frail body, shitty outfit and lack of shoes, you felt pretty pathetic more than anything.

"Just, please tell me what I can do for you, for the coffee mess." You pleaded, wanting to get this situation over with. There was already a plethora of other things you had to worry about. "Don't worry about it right now, we can finish that later, let me get you something to eat." Feeling your stomach gurgle at his words, you looked to him hopefully but tried to deny his offer, though, he obviously wasn't going to let you.

You weren't at the table for too much longer before a voice rang out through his home, nearly startling you before realizing it was the intercom. "Sir, I have returned with the items." Sukuna went to the intercom system on the wall and hit a button, allowing whoever that was to come up. You unknowlingly curled in on yourself, not sure why another man was coming up here. And with what items?

"Here, these should fit you." Sukuna said casually, stepping over to you after taking some boxes from the man you now recognized as his driver when he exited the elevator. "What should fit me?" you wondered curiously, but as a box was opened for you, it made sense. "C...clothes? I can't afford new clothes." You stammered, stepping back to show your rejection for the offer. "You're not paying for them. But, if you're going to run errands for me, you're going to look how I want you to. There's a few things you can choose from, just go change in my room." He said while pointing to a door down the hall.

You stood dumbfounded in the massive room, not even sure how a room of this size was possible. Your entire apartment could fit in here several times. His bed was triple the size of yours, and more of those large floor-to-ceiling windows adorned the walls, showing off the beautiful city. The windows were tinted to not let the room be filled with the exceptionally bright morning sun, and otherwise the lighting was calm and relaxing. His bed faced the wall of windows, and a huge rug extended from underneath the bed to across the room. There was a small area off to the side with seating, and shelves built into the walls full of books. Near that, was a small spiral staircase going up. As you walked towards the windows and looked up to where the stairs went, you could see it was an open area above. From the little bit that you could see, his closet was up there. It's own personal floor.

You couldn't help but wonder what it was like to be in one of those cliché romance scenes from one of your books, making love in the night with some guy you didn't know and able to see a view like this from the bedroom with no one really knowing what was happening behind simple glass. Secret, little romance fantasies.

Bad thoughts.

They were just bad thoughts constantly trying to plague your mind. You had a fiancé, whether you liked it or not. Sometimes your mind would try to imagine a life with someone else, someone who treated you properly and gave you what you needed or wanted. Or just a life where you got to explore and love freely without any restraints. And you hated it. Hated when your mind wandered like that. Because there was nothing you would ever be able to do to get away from Toji. It was easier to just accept that your life wasn't going to change.

You laid out the three outfits onto the bed, looking over them in awe. They were so pretty, and they felt so nice and soft. Who were you kidding, the felt expensive as hell. Honestly, when he said you would look how he wanted, you were afraid it would be some skimpy outfits for him to parade you around in. However, they were decently professional, if anything, they would make you look like you belonged in this city. Slipping off your clothes, you caught your reflection in a mirror nearby, and you immediately looked away in shame. Marks littered your skin, and your ribs stuck out farther than you had liked. Toji grabbed you too often, and fed you too little.

You slowly stepped out of Sukuna's room, feeling a little self concious in the outfit actually. You hadn't worn anything this nice since you still lived at home. Okay, there were a lot of things you hadn't experienced since you lived at home. And being in this penthouse was reminding you of all the luxuries you missed out on. You were born into wealth, and you literally threw it all away. You didn't see his driver anymore, and assumed he already left. Obviously Sukuna didn't seem like the type to keep company he didn't need. His driver did the job needed, then he was gone. Hopefully thats what would happen here. You could do the errands he needed you to, then you could move on.  Taking a seat at the table again, you were a little surprised to find a nice hot cup of tea there waiting for you. Of course, you stared at it like it was fake or going to throw itself at you. Did he prepare this for you? Should you drink it?  Whenever Toji's friends came over, they always made you things to drink and you felt like shit afterwards. You knew Toji liked drugs, and it was so obvious that he'd drug you from time to time so he could use you how he wanted without you trying to fight back. 

Obviously, you never knew the true intentions of him drugging you.

But, this guy wasn't Toji. At least, he didn't do anything to act like Toji in the slightest. You were still somewhat scared of him though. Those tattoos were confusing the hell out of you. At least, when he had his shirt on fully, you couldn't see any of them. So maybe it was for a different reason? Usually the Yakuza had full intentions of showing off their tattoos. You dare not ask though, just pretend it's something you didn't see. 

Hot tea sounded so good though...

You slowly sipped it, almost whimpering at the warmth that flowed down into your stomach from the soothing flavor. And then, the smell of food hit you. Discreetly licking your lips as you watched Sukuna come from the kitchen with dishes in his hands, you weren't sure if you were drooling or not at this point.

As he sat the last dish down and seated himself across from you, you stared at all the food in awe. To be honest it was more than you had in a very long time.

"This...is a lot." you breathlessly whispered in excitement, setting your tea down and trying to decide what to eat first. Eyes watched you from across the table, waiting for you to start eating, but noticed you sat patiently as if waiting for something yourself. At home, you never touched any food before Toji did, you had to wait til he said you could start eating. It was just habit at this point to wait for someone else to begin.

"(Y/N), you don't have to wait for me to start eating." The man across from you said, and you quickly broke your frozen stance. A soft chuckle came from Sukuna after seeing you eagerly  go after something with haste, almost as if watching a starving dog react to a bowl of food set in front of it for the first time in weeks.

Pulling the end of the chopsticks out of your mouth while finishing chewing, your gaze aimlessly stared onto the table. It was...calm, and quiet. Apart from the city noises outside of the early morning rushes, it was just so relaxing. No fighting, no phone constantly ringing from debt collectors looking for you. But, you almost felt afraid. Being able to enjoy a more relaxing environment while sitting with another man alone in his apartment while you ate the food he made seemed wrong on a certain level.

Toji would lose his shit if he ever found out about this.

"So, I assume running a few errands shouldn't be a problem. You can pick up some things for me and drop a couple things off." Sukuna said at one point, and you nodded along in agreement. It didn't seem too difficult, nothing you weren't already used to. He explained where you would be going, and what you would be doing, and honestly you couldn't deny that you enjoyed listening to his voice.  Hearing a man talk to you in a way that wasn't so harsh was such a relief. Not only that, but he just fed you breakfast. Toji hadn't prepared food for you in years, and even when he did, it didn't tast this good.  You've gotten better treatment in just these last couple hours than you had in the last seven years with Toji, and it was almost heartbreaking to think about...

This one isn't as long because it's broken up. Originally this chapter was gonna be almost 8k words and I didn't want a really long chapter so I decided to just make two shorter ones instead. I hope you enjoyed!

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated!! (ﾉ･ω･)ﾉ

[rafey-baby]

c/w: bf!rafe being obsessed with reader’s tits while she’s riding him, use of daddy, Topper texts in the middle of it, fluffy undertones, 18+ mdni!

wc: 740

inspired by this ask

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Just like that, Baby. There you go,” Rafe pants while he’s pawing at her waist as she stretches around him tucked deep inside her; hitting the spongy spot inside her with every roll of her hips on top of him on their couch. 

Their moans and grunts echo around the living room and a brief thought about him having to be somewhere else crosses his mind when he blinks. However, it’s quickly forgotten when his eyes flicker over to her tits bouncing up and down right in front of his face; enticing him, tempting him like cocaine. 

Therefore, he has no choice but to let his fingers greedily pluck at the straps of her tank top; letting them fall down her shoulders and exposing her tits for his hungry mouth. He gropes the left one with his big hand and sloppily mouths at the other; pressing open-mouthed kisses on the plump flesh, soft lips brushing against her sensitive skin.

“Shit, they’re fucking perfect, huh?” His words are slurred, eyes half-lidded and he thinks he could stay like this forever. 

She lets out a loud noise when he sucks her nipple between his lips; tongue playing with the puffy bud and rolling his thumb over the other one. 

“Yeah? That feel nice? Needed Daddy to pay some attention to his girls?” He croons against her tits; breath tickling her tender skin.

She whimpers in response, fluttering around his cock that presses harder into her tight hole when he lifts his own hips upwards; helping her out when he notices her thighs beginning to grow sore. 

He nuzzles his face against her breasts; groaning out against her skin when she squeezes around him, hands grabbling at his biceps in their pursuit of some form of solidity. 

“Taking me so well, huh?” He laves his tongue over a nipple before he’s grazing his teeth against it; playfully biting down and eliciting an overwhelmed shriek from her. 

“Ray…” she whines, feeling her orgasm approaching with each thrust of his hips meeting her own. 

“Hm?” He hums around the button but before she can open her mouth, his phone buzzes on the couch cushion next to them. 

He doesn’t even hear it; far too bewitched by her body for anything else to drift to the forefront of his mind. It vibrates with another message soon after and that’s when she turns to look at the screen that lights up with four new notifications. 

“It’s Topper,” she mumbles, halting her movements momentarily. 

“Huh?” His question is muffled against her flesh. 

“He’s texting you,” she picks up the phone and hands it to him. 

“Don’t really give a shit,” he tries to dismiss her, hands grabbing at her hips and trying to get her to continue moving but she stays rooted in her spot. 

“You should answer, maybe it’s important,” she insists, tone unwavering. 

“Top has never texted me about anything important,” he argues, pulling away from her with a crease between his brows; tentatively taking the device and flitting his eyes over the words.  

Top

Yo Rafe

Where are u? 

Me and Kelce are waiting for u at the island club 

U coming or? 

“You’re such a little devil, yeah? Made me forget about my fucking plans,” he murmurs teasingly; squeezing her thigh as he types out a response.

Shit, my bad

Kinda busy playing w my girls atm

Topper’s answer is immediate. 

Top

What girls?

Oh..

She looks down at the messages when a chuckle rumbles from his chest. 

“Rafe, why would you say that?” She complains with a pout molding her mouth. However, he merely offers her an infuriating grin as he locks the device, about to throw it on the coffee table before her fingers wrap around his wrist. 

“Wait, you’re not gonna say anything else?” She sounds almost worried, never the one to enjoy being rude to others. 

He thinks she’s too much of a polite sweetheart sometimes as he playfully rolls his eyes; fingers reluctantly gliding over the keyboard once again.

Maybe next time? 

Top

Yeah, whatever. Have fun

“Happy now?” He scrunches his nose at her, turning the do not disturb mode on before finally setting the phone down and gracing her with his undivided attention once more. 

“Very happy,” her smile is contagious when she takes ahold of his jaw; leaning down to press a honeyed kiss on his lips and swallowing his grunt when she shifts against him in a thank you.

[daryltwdixon]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 4.5 | Part 5

Summary: Cracks begin to show in the life you were building with the Miller brothers, the weight of the third trimester pressing down as Tommy lashes out in a way you didn’t see coming. Seeking comfort and clarity, you leave with Joel—where tension, tenderness, and long-buried feelings finally surface behind closed doors.

|| smut MDNI 18+, arguing, Tommy is an ass, pinv, fingering, pregnancy kink?, dirty talk obvi, breeding kink, possessive joel, some longing and angst, no outbreak, they still cant f'ing communicate ||

notes: I promise I actually like tommy in the show / game lmao. sorry this took me so long! was traveling to see family and literally had no downtime. enjoy!!!

The nursery was only half finished. 

The bassinet was still in its box, unopened, up against the wall. Paint cans were stacked in the corner, samples painted haphazardly on the walls that had been dried for weeks. It was like dust had settled over everything—over the plans, the promises, the parts that were supposed to come next.

You sat in the recliner, the one meant for late-night feedings and early-morning lullabies. One hand rested on your belly, your thumb moving in slow, steady circles— something to do, to keep your breath even. 

You were supposed to be building the crib today. Joel had followed Tommy home from the job site, both of their boots still dirty with sawdust, just to make it in time. They’d barely stepped inside before it was clear something was wrong.

Tommy stood by the window, arms crossed so tightly across his chest it looked like he might splinter from the pressure. His jaw was locked, shoulders coiled. Joel mirrored him from the doorway—hands tucked under his arms, weight leaned against the frame like he wasn’t sure if he should stay or go.

Whatever was between them wasn’t being said, but you felt it all the same. Thick in the air, pressing down like humidity before a storm. Crawling across your skin, making you itch in places you couldn’t reach.

It had started weeks ago. Subtle, at first. Tommy pulling away in small, quiet ways—forgetting appointments, brushing past you with less warmth, keeping his kisses chaste and short. The bigger your belly got, the more he seemed to disappear.

Maybe now that it was real—your body changing more by the day, the shape of this future becoming something tangible—he was seeing it differently. Maybe he was seeing you differently.

You hadn’t wanted to believe it at first. Maybe it was nerves. Maybe it was stress. But as your due date crept closer, it became harder to ignore. He barely touched the baby clothes, the packages that came for the nursery. Or you.

Something had cracked, and no one wanted to look at the pieces. Now, whatever this was—this silence, this standoff—it felt like the final leak in a dam. Like the whole thing was about to burst open.

You tried to ease the pressure. Something small. Something safe.

“Have either of you thought more about names?” your voice came out lighter than it should. Like a peace offering. “We should probably decide before he gets here.”

Tommy didn’t even look at you. “You mean you and Joel should decide.”

You exhaled. Of course.

“Tommy… you’ve been avoiding every conversation about the baby lately,” you said gently. “For weeks. Can’t you just…talk to us? To me?”

“Maybe that’s because every time we talk,” he snapped, “I’m the one who’s unreasonable. I’m the one who’s supposed to suck it up and smile.”

“You are being unreasonable,” you said, too fast, too sharp. Then, softer—more careful. “You keep shutting Joel out of everything. You won’t let him have a say in any of the decisions or plans. He’s supposed to be part of this.”

Tommy laughed—a short, humorless bark. “He was part of this. We needed him to help. That’s what this was. A favor. You and me—we were gonna raise this baby. He’s not—” he shook his head, letting the end of his sentence hang between the three of you.

You rose from the chair slowly, pressing your palm into the armrest as you shifted your weight, the other hand supporting your swollen belly. Joel moved instinctively, ready to help, but you lifted a hand without looking at him. I’m fine.

Your knees ached. Your back pulled. The baby shifted under your ribs, like he knew something was wrong.

You crossed the room, stopping just a few feet from your husband. “Tommy,” you said, voice calm but full, “we agreed he would be part of this. We agreed to try it this way. We’re supposed to be a team. He’s not just some uncle. He’s the baby’s—”

“Don’t fucking say it.”

His voice cracked halfway through the word, and for a second you saw it. The grief. The way it was wrapped around his anger like barbed wire.

Joel pushed off the doorway. “Then what the hell am I, Tommy?” His voice was calm, but there was steel under it. “What, just a stud you called in when things didn’t go your way? You think I’m gonna stand here and act like none of this matters?”

Tommy scoffed as he looked at his brother. “You think it does matter? What—you catch feelings after a couple fucks and now you think she’s yours?”

Your heart lurched at the venom in his words. Joel stepped even closer, his voice low and even and deadly calm.

“I think I was there when she couldn’t stop throwing up for three days straight. I think I was the one bringing her crackers and Pedialyte at two in the goddamn morning. And where the hell were you? Out with Frank again?”

He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just kept his eyes locked on his brother.

“I was there when she had those dizzy spells. When she got scared something was wrong. When she cried through the whole damn glucose test because you were too busy to answer your phone.”

He stepped forward in front of you. Steady. Final. “So yeah. I think I’ve earned the right to stand here. And I think you better watch your damn mouth when you talk about her like that.”

You stood frozen, heart in your throat, Joel’s words echoing louder than the silence that followed. You hadn’t expected him to speak—not like that. Not so plainly.

But maybe what scared you more was how much it meant to hear someone fight for you.

And then Tommy looked at Joel. Really looked at him. “Tell me the truth. You wanted her the whole time, didn’t you?”

Joel’s voice was tight. “That’s not fair.”

“Answer me.”

Joel looked down, breathed once, then met his brother’s eyes. “It didn’t start like that.”

“But it is like that now, huh?” Tommy’s voice broke. “You think you can just stand in my house, in my life, and pretend this is yours now?”

Joel’s voice cut in, sharp. “That’s enough.”

Tommy shook his head, face red. “Get the hell out of my house.”

“I’m not leavin’ her,” Joel said. “Not when you’re actin’ like this.”

“You don’t get to—”

“She’s pregnant,” Joel bit out, stepping into Tommy's space. “And you’re standing here yelling like she hasn’t been carryin’ all this on alone for weeks.”

“Alone?!” Tommy exploded—but you stepped between them before either could say another word.

“He’s right.” Your voice wavered, but it didn’t break. “That’s enough.”

You pressed a finger into Tommy’s chest, trembling with everything you hadn’t said.

“You’re the one who asked for this, Tommy. You’re the one who said you could handle it. And now you want to punish me–what? For trying to make this work even when you barely look at me anymore? I’m trying, Tommy.” You shook your head, blinking back tears. “Don’t rewrite this like I betrayed you. I already took the blame for my mistakes. We moved forward, we agreed this would be the three of us.”

Tommy stared at you like he didn’t recognize you.

“You want him here?” he asked, voice hollow. “Playin’ daddy, picking names for our baby in our house? Fine. But don’t act like I’m crazy for wanting my wife back.”

He didn’t stop when you called his name. He turned, shoved past Joel—hard enough to make it known—and stormed out.

The door slammed.

And just like that, the nursery was silent again.

Before

Joel never had a party phase. 

He never did the college thing. No keg stands, no spring breaks, no waking up in someone else's dorm bed not remembering how he got there. Never packed into a room with three roommates and a GameCube. By the time most guys his age were skipping class and shotgunning beers, he was knee-deep in diapers and formula receipts. 

He graduated high school, married his pregnant girlfriend, and tried to do the right thing. And within a year, Sarah was born—and Jess was gone. Real gone. Not a slow unravel. More like a door slamming and a trail of dust behind her.

He told himself she was never meant to be a mom. Hell, they were both still just kids at the time.

But that didn’t make it right. Didn’t make it easier, either. She left the baby. Left him. Just checked out and never looked back.

So when one of Tommy’s friends invited them to some frat party, Joel didn’t see the point. He tried to beg off, mumbled something about Sarah needing him, even as valid as that was. But Tommy had already lined up a sitter and wasn’t about to let him off the hook.

“You need a night, man,” he’d said. “Just one damn night to remember what it’s like to have a pulse.”

So Joel went.

And now, he stood just inside the front door of a house packed with strangers, wondering what the hell he was doing here.

The place smelled like beer, sweat, cheap cologne, and microwave pizza. Every surface was sticky. A girl brushed past him, laughing too loud, perfume trailing behind her like cotton candy and alcohol. Guys with shaggy hair and flip-flops shouted over the blare of some terrible pop track, slapping each other on the backs like they’d just survived war.

Joel felt old. Not in years. In miles.

These kids weren’t that much younger than him, technically. But they weren’t people who'd held a screaming newborn at 3 a.m. They weren’t worried about overdue bills or busted radiators. These were the types who’d call home if they overdrew their account and had money wired to them in an hour.

He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and slipped through the crowd, trying not to bump into anyone. A couple was making out against the fridge in the kitchen as he grabbed a red solo cup of beer. Someone was throwing up in the sink. There were Doritos crushed under his boots.

He needed air.

The back door stuck a little when he pushed it open. He stepped onto the porch, the screen door slapping shut behind him with a squeal. Out here, it was quieter. Cooler. The music still thudded through the house like a pulse, but it was distant now—muted by the walls and the steady hum of crickets in the yard.

A few people lingered at the far end of the porch, passing a joint back and forth, slouched on the railing and talking low. One guy stood off to the side with a cigarette between his fingers.

Joel walked over, nodding once.

“Hey,” he said, voice low. “Can I bum one?”

The guy didn’t say anything, just held out the pack and a lighter.

Joel took both. Lit the cigarette and handed them back with a quiet thanks.

He hadn’t smoked since Jess told him she was pregnant. He quit cold turkey that day—barely even missed it. But tonight? He needed something to bite back the tightness in his chest. Something to ground him. He’d shower the second he got home anyway, throw his clothes straight in the wash before checking on his sleeping toddler. 

God, he wished he was already there.

The smoke burned a little as it hit the back of his throat. He exhaled slow, watching it curl up into the porch light.

Time passed. People wandered back inside. The weed-smokers disappeared. The porch emptied out until it was just him.

Joel leaned against the railing and let his shoulders drop. He pulled out his old blocky cellphone, flipped it open with a quiet snap. No missed calls from the babysitter. No voicemails.

He stared at the screen a second longer than he needed to. Just making sure.

He almost wished there was something. A reason to leave. A reason to get the hell outta here and go home. But everything seemed fine. He closed the phone and slipped it back into his pocket, jaw tightening as he took another drag of the cigarette between his fingers.

Just as he was settling into the quiet, the back door creaked open again. He didn’t look to see who it was, just figured it was some more potheads needing to get their fix. But he was surprised when he looked up, that his sudden gravitational pull felt off balance. 

You stepped outside, fingers gripping the neck of a beer bottle, bringing it to your lips that shined in the moonlight from whatever gloss you had swiped across them tonight. Your black tank top clung to every inch of your chest and your mid-drift peeked below until your jeans that hung low on your hips, hugged you perfectly. 

When you made your way out onto the porch, you looked like you didn’t owe the world shit, that you didn’t give a shit if anyone noticed you. But he noticed you. Everyone probably did.

Joel couldn’t stop staring.

When your eyes met his, it was like the world blinked. Just a beat—long enough to catch, short enough to question. And then you didn’t look away.

You tilted your head, your eyes glancing down at the beer and cigarette in his hand.

“That cheap stuff tastes like shit,” you said, “Like it came outta someone’s shoe. You’re better off with the good stuff.” you dangled your beer bottle up, shaking it just a little to show off you weren’t drinking from the keg. 

“Not really one to drink it for the taste,” Joel said. You moved forward with a small smile.

“Mind if I take a hit off that?” you said smoothly, pointing to the cigarette.

He handed it to you wordlessly, and watched, entranced despite himself as your glossy lips wrapped around it, the ember burning at the tip.

“Told my parents I quit,” you said, blowing out the smoke, “Which is true. But nights like this make me a liar,”

Joel liked the way you talked. Dry, confident, like you were letting him in on your world. You weren’t fawning, weren’t giggling. You were sharp. Maybe a little reckless. Probably younger than him by a year or two, but smarter than half the house of partygoers combined.

“Don’t think I’ve seen you around,” you said, handing him back the cigarette.

He shrugged. “That’s probably a good thing.”

You sipped your drink. “So you don’t go here?”

“Nah. Not exactly the academic type. Friend of a friend invited us out.”

You nodded, still watching him. The cigarette passed quietly between the two of you.

“And by ‘us,’ I’m guessin’ you mean...?”

“My brother,” he answered, “He’s around here somewhere. He’s better at this kinda scene than me.”

“I don’t know,” you said. “You seem to be doing just fine.”

Joel looked at you then—really looked—and felt something low in his chest shift, just slightly off-center. Your hair was pulled back in a pony-tail, big eyes that had no business looking at him like you were.

He huffed, barely a smile. “Don’t know about that.”

You shrugged, but didn’t look away. “You’ve got that whole brooding-loner thing going for you. Girls eat that shit up.”

Joel raised an eyebrow. “That so?”

“Mhm.” You took another sip of your beer, slow and deliberate. “I’ve been out here, what—five minutes? I can already tell. Not even trying, and yet you look like you’ve got some kind of tragic backstory.”

He snorted, caught somewhere between amused and flustered. “Not sure that’s a compliment.”

“It is,” you said, leaning in a little, just enough that your voice dropped slightly. “You wear it well.”

Joel swallowed once, felt the heat crawl up the back of his neck. You were watching him like you already knew how he’d taste. Like you were just deciding whether or not it’d be worth the trouble.

He cleared his throat, looked down at his boots for half a second, then back up.

“What about you?” he asked. “You come to these things just to psychoanalyze strangers with your imported beer?”

“No, silly.” You smiled, slow and confident. “I come for the free cigarettes and hot strangers to psychoanalyze.”

Joel huffed a soft breath, smirk faint but real. He flicked ash off the end of the cigarette, not quite looking at you when he said, “Don’t know if I fit the bill on that second one.”

Your eyes didn’t leave him. “On the contrary, mystery man, pretty sure you’re tickin’ all the boxes.”

And Joel—God help him—he forgot his own name for a second.

He leaned a little closer, felt the pull of you like gravity. His fingers twitched with the urge to touch your waist, to tuck a piece of your hair that fell from your ponytail back just so he could feel what it was like between his fingers. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time. Maybe ever.

You were about to say something else, he could sense it, that moment between beats when something clicks open, but then a girl stumbled out the back door, making you turn as she grabbed your arm.

“Hey!” she slurred, glancing between the two of you before locking eyes with you. “I need you—seriously, Stacey’s throwing up and she just called freaking Mark, and she’s, like, sobbing—please come help.”

You looked over, face twisting with reluctant affection. “Shit. Yeah, okay.” you turned back to him, apology written all over your face, handing him back the nearly burnt out cigarette.

“Duty calls,” Joel said with a short nod.

“I’ll find you later?” you offered, a little breathless, and before he could reply, you were gone–swept back into the house, the music blaring for the moment the door was open, then leaving him out in the quiet again.

He stood there like a damn idiot, heart still pounding. He couldn’t even remember what he’d said to you—just a blur of cigarette smoke and smart little smiles.

You didn’t ask his name.

He didn’t ask yours.

But you’d looked at him like you already knew him.

The porch felt quieter now. Emptier, somehow, like you’d taken the oxygen with you when you left.

He took one last drag from the cigarette, flicked it into the yard, and let the silence wrap around him. Music still pulsed faintly from inside, muted now, swallowed by the thick summer air. A few fireflies blinked out by the fence. The sky above was dark and low, stars peeking through the haze of humidity and porch light glow.

He braced his hands on the railing and stared out at nothing for a long minute.

Eventually, he straightened up, ran a hand down his face, and turned back toward the house. He hadn’t seen Tommy in a while, and if he didn’t check in soon, he might completely lose track of his little brother.

Still… he glanced at the door once more before heading inside, like maybe you’d reappear if he looked hard enough.

You didn’t.

So he opened the door and stepped back into the noise. The music hit harder now—bass thrumming straight through his chest, like it was syncing up with his pulse. Everything felt louder, warmer, just a little off-kilter. The crowd moved in flashes—glimpses of faces, glitter, teeth, hands in the air—and Joel moved through it like he wasn’t fully there.

Maybe it was the beer. Maybe it was you.

He made his way through the crowd slowly, eyes skimming over the living room couches, checking the faces of couples tangled together, wondering if Tommy was caught in some sort of lip lock with a random girl by now.

“Joel!”

He blinked and turned toward the sound.

There was his little brother, shoving his way through the crowd, hair messy, cheeks flushed from beer and the thrill of whatever he’d been up to. He looked like he’d just won a bet or found twenty bucks on the sidewalk.

Joel raised an eyebrow. “You good?”

Tommy grabbed his arm, grinning like an idiot. “Better than good.”

Joel gave him a look, dry. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m in love,” Tommy announced.

Joel snorted. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’m serious, man.” Tommy’s eyes were gleaming. “I just met the girl I’m gonna marry.”

Joel shook his head, a smile creeping over his face. Only his little brother.

“Where?” he asked, playing along.

Tommy spun, rising on his toes to look above the crowd. “She went back that way. Wait—hold up—there.” He pointed past the kitchen, toward the hall that led to the bathrooms and the back patio.

Joel’s eyes followed his hand.

And landed on you.

You were standing beside your drunk friend, your brows knitted as you held a water bottle to her lips, gently brushing hair back from her face. Still impossibly beautiful. Still glowing in a way that had nothing to do with the lighting or the beer or the gloss on your lips.

And Tommy was pointing at you.

Joel didn’t move. Couldn’t.

“D’you see her?” Tommy said. “Little tank top, high ponytail—God, man, she’s—fuck. She smiled at me and I swear I felt it in my spine. I’m gonna find her after her friend’s chill. She said she’d come back.”

Joel’s mouth opened. Then closed.

Because what the hell was he supposed to say?

Joel nodded once, slowly. “Yeah. I see her.”

Tommy clapped his back. “She’s everything, man.”

Joel didn’t answer. Just took a long drink of his beer.

And said nothing at all.

Present Day

You were silent as you climbed into Joel’s truck, his hand reaching for yours—rough, steady, warm—lifting you carefully onto the bench seat with your full belly.

Tears still clung to your lashes, blurring the view out the passenger window as you looked up at the house. At the window just above the garage. The one that led into the nursery.

The one where it all fell apart.

Your heart ached—not just from the fight, but from the truth in it. The worst part was… you understood Tommy. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was right. Maybe not about everything, but enough. Enough to leave a sting that wouldn’t fade anytime soon.

But that man inside the house—yelling, jealous, eyes full of something that looked too much like hate—he didn’t feel like the Tommy you knew. The man you married filled the house with music and laughter, who sang off-key in the shower and danced you around the living room with a beer in one hand and your waist in the other. He made late-night grilled cheese and kissed you with his whole heart, like he couldn’t believe you were real. He was your best friend. The one who stayed up with you talking nonsense into the middle of the night. The one who brought you coffee just the way you liked it. The one who made everything feel like the two of you were in it together—always.

He used to listen. Really listen. He was open. Curious. Soft where you needed softness and strong where you didn’t even realize you needed strength.

Where had that man gone?

Where had you gone?

“He just needs some time,” Joel said softly as if hearing your thoughts as he started the truck. It rumbled to life, and all you could do was bluntly nod, your throat too tight. 

“Thanks–” you choked out, “For…I don’t know.” You shook your head. What the hell were you thanking him for? Sticking up for you to your own husband? Getting you out of your own house? Sitting beside you like the only steady thing left while everything else went to hell?

Maybe just… being here.

Joel didn’t answer. He just kept driving, one hand on the wheel, the other resting palm-down on the bench between you. Like if you needed it, his hand, his steadiness, his silence…it would be there.

You sat in it—the hum of the engine, the wind coming through the windows, the muffled ache in your chest—while familiar streets gave way to unfamiliar ones. Houses changed. Yards grew wider. You passed the sign for Joel’s neighborhood, only a few miles away, but it felt like crossing a border into a different world.

“Do you remember,” Joel said, breaking the silence, “when we first met?”

You blinked, looked over at him, trying to come back to the present. “Huh?”

He didn’t look at you. Just kept his eyes on the road, but his voice was warm and comforting. That southern drawl like velvet. “You were in school. Tommy and I got dragged to some party by a buddy of ours.”

“Oh… right.” You blinked through the cobwebs of the memory. “Back when I thought I was cool for liking even grosser beer.”

Joel let out a quiet laugh at that. Just a puff of air through his nose, but it softened the edges of the truck’s cab.

“Yeah.” he sighed heavily, hand coming up to his chin as he leaned against his side door.

“What about it?”

He shook his head a little, jaw working, his fingers regripping the wheel. The leather creaked.

“Just funny how it all…” He trailed off. Exhaled. “I don’t know. Nevermind”

You studied him, brow furrowing. “What were you gonna say?”

At the next red light, he finally looked over.

His eyes met yours across the bench seat—deep, quiet, and full of something raw. Something you had been seeing more of since whatever this was had started. 

A part of Joel no one else ever saw.

Your heart kicked at the look on his face. Like he was standing on a ledge and just now realizing how far the drop really was.

“It’s just…” Joel’s voice dropped. “I knew you first.”

You blinked, your brow furrowing deeper. “Tommy introduced us that night.”

Joel shook his head, eyes back on the road now, but there was a small smile twitching at his lips. “Nah, if I remember right, you bummed my only cigarette off me on the back porch. Spent ten minutes tryna figure me out like some sort of shrink.”

You let out a small, breathy laugh, the corner of your mouth lifting. You didn’t fully remember it, not clearly—but it felt right.

“Sounds like me, I guess.”

Joel’s fingers drummed once against the wheel, then stilled. “I just… I wonder sometimes.”

“Wonder what?”

The light turned green.

He didn’t answer right away. Just stepped on the gas. The truck lurched forward.

The golden hour light slanted across his face, catching the hard lines of his profile, the scar at his temple, the way his jaw twitched like he was biting down on something he’d been holding back for years.

“I wonder what would’ve happened if I’d had the guts to tell my brother I saw you first.”

You didn’t say anything.

There wasn’t anything to say.

The cab filled with silence. The kind that settled in your chest and turned tides in your stomach. The kind that said more than words ever could.

Outside the window, the trees blurred past in a haze of dying light.

And neither of you reached to turn on the radio.

When the truck pulled into the driveway, the sky was streaked in burnt orange and lavender, the last light stretching long across the hood. Joel was quick to hop out, moving around to your side before the engine had fully ticked quiet. He opened your door and held out his hand without a word.

You took it gingerly, wincing as your body shifted with effort. Six months in, everything took a little more.

He helped you down slow, steady, his hand catching at the crook of your elbow before it slid down to the small of your back as you found your footing. He kept it there as you walked toward the house—not holding you up, not rushing. Just… there.

When you stepped inside, you blinked at the silence.

“No Sarah?”

“She’s studyin’ at her friend’s. They got their exams comin’ up now,” he said, pulling the front door shut behind you. He toed off his boots near the mat, and you followed suit, groaning as you kicked yours off. Your feet were beyond swollen.

“Can we order a pizza or something? I’m dying,” you muttered, pressing a hand into the small of your back and arching until it cracked. The relief was minimal, but it was something.

Joel glanced over. His eyes skimmed your face, down to your belly, then back again. “Why don’t you sit down,” he said, already heading toward the kitchen. “I’ll make somethin’. It’ll be quick.”

You hovered near the table, one hand resting on the slope of your belly. The house was quiet. You hesitated, unsure.

“I don’t mind,” he added. “Just relax a minute.”

You wandered to the table and eased down into a chair, the weight of the day heavier now that you weren’t pretending it wasn’t. The silence of the house pressed in at the edges. You stared at the wood grain in the table. Breathed in the faint scent of garlic still lingering in the air from whatever he was fixing up. It all felt… normal. Which made it worse.

Joel moved around the kitchen, pulling things from the fridge. A box of pasta. A jar of sauce. His movements were easy, practiced.

You didn’t speak until he was chopping something—onions maybe, the soft rhythmic knock of the knife filling the space.

“I don’t know what happened,” you said quietly.

He glanced up.

You weren’t even sure where the words had come from, but they were out now.

“Things were okay. Good, even. Me and Tommy. Me and you. It felt like we were getting into a rhythm. But the last few weeks…”

Joel didn’t say anything. He just kept chopping. Listening.

You pressed your hand over your belly. “Feels like the closer we get, the more he pulls away. Like he’s finally seeing what this is gonna look like and—” Your voice cracked. You swallowed. “—and I don’t think he likes it.”

Joel set the knife down, wiped his hands on a towel. He didn’t push. Just looked at you across the counter.

“You don’t have to figure it all out tonight,” he said. “You can stay here, if you want. I’m not sure when Sarah’s gettin’ home, but… we can watch a movie or somethin’. Just… take your mind off it.”

You nodded slowly, eyes burning. “I’m just really tired, honestly.”

He understood, turning back to his cooking on the stove. You sat there, eyes unfocused, listening to the low simmer of the sauce, the clink of dishes, the soft scrape of silverware being laid out. So domestic and easy.

Before long, dinner was ready. Nothing fancy—just pasta with a little garlic, some toasted bread, and water poured into mismatched glasses.

You sat across from each other at the table, the kitchen bathed in that soft in-between light, not quite night yet.

The food was warm. The silence was easy. Neither of you said much, and that was fine. Joel wasn’t the type to fill quiet just to hear himself talk, and you didn’t have the energy to pretend you were okay. So you ate. Slowly. Each bite keeping you tethered to reality a little more.

He looked up once, just briefly, like he was checking on you without making a thing of it. You caught it but didn’t say anything. Just kept eating, your hand resting against the curve of your stomach.

By the time your plate was mostly cleared, the exhaustion was creeping back in full force—behind your eyes, in your limbs, settling deep.

Joel stood and grabbed your empty dish without a word. Washed it. Dried it. Set it aside.

Then he turned to you, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “Come on. Let’s get you upstairs.”

You didn’t argue. You just stood, slowly, your joints stiff from sitting too long. His hand found your back again, that same steady pressure, guiding you through the quiet house like it was muscle memory.

When you reached the bedroom, you sat on the edge of his bed, the familiar scent of his cologne and detergent wrapping around you like a weighted blanket. Usually, it stirred something electric in your blood—lit a fuse that burned hot and fast. But tonight, it was grounding. Comforting. A balm for something deeper.

Joel gave you the softest smile, the kind he rarely let anyone see, then knelt in front of you and began to pull your socks off—slow, careful. His hands were warm, calloused in all the familiar ways, but his touch was gentler than usual. Reverent, even. He slid your pants down next, then your shirt, peeling each layer away without rush or heat.

This wasn’t the same kind of hunger he’d shown you before—wasn’t the fierce, consuming need that usually lived in the space between these sheets. This was something else. Something quieter. Worship without fire.

He stepped away for a moment, grabbed one of his sleep shirts from the dresser. You raised your arms, and he pulled it over your head with care, letting it fall over your bump and thighs. It smelled like him. Made you feel like you were wrapped in him.

Then he started to undress—slow and casual, unbothered by your gaze—and turned toward the bathroom as he unbuttoned his jeans.

“I’m gonna shower,” he said softly, voice low and rasped from the day as he shucked off the last of his clothing. “You go on and get comfortable.”

You nodded, watching him go.

And God, that view.

Joel’s bare back was broad, solid, built like it belonged to another time—hewn from marble and made to be seen on Greek statues of Achilles or Aries. You couldn’t help but stare at his tight, perky ass that always looked like it was made just for your hands.

He was so thoroughly masculine. So undeniably made from earth and sweat and quiet strength, it made something low in you ache—blood warming, mouth going dry. Even now. Even after the day you’d had.

That pull toward him never let up these days. Not really. It just shifted, simmered, and waited.

After a moment of sitting in patient silence, you eased yourself into the bed, shifting slowly beneath the sheets until the pressure on your hips and back lightened. You reached for the remote and turned Joel’s TV on low—just enough sound to fill the quiet without pulling you in. A dull hum. Something to keep the thoughts from circling too tight.

You pulled your phone out, thumb hovering before you typed the message. A small knot formed in your stomach, tight and uneasy.

I love you. I still want this with you. Can we talk in the morning?

You stared at it for a second longer than you should’ve. Then you hit send.

With a quiet sigh, you turned the phone face-down on the nightstand. You weren’t sure if you expected a reply. You weren’t even sure if you wanted one. But he deserved to know where you were, even if probably already assumed. You didn’t want him thinking you’d just given up or disappeared.

The door to the bathroom opened a few minutes later, a wave of steam curling into the bedroom as Joel stepped out, toweling off his hair. A dark towel hung low on his hips, drops of water trailing down his chest, catching in the lines of muscle carved from years of labor.

He moved toward his dresser, rifling through a drawer for something clean to sleep in.

You shifted onto your side, the tension in your belly easing with the change in position. One arm tucked beneath your bump, the other bent under your head. You watched him move, quiet and unbothered by your gaze.

“Enjoyin’ the view?” he asked, not even looking up, his voice thick with amusement.

You heard the smile in his voice before you saw it, that boyish grin flicking over his shoulder as he turned toward you.

His eyes caught yours from across the room. Your smile mirrored his.

“Definitely,” you said, voice soft but sure.

Joel chuckled under his breath, the sound low and rough as he pulled a clean shirt over his head and stepped into a pair of loose flannel sleep shorts. He didn’t rush—never did—but there was something different in the way he moved now. Something quieter, like the air between you had thickened just a little.

He turned off the bathroom light and crossed the room, climbing into bed behind you without a word. The mattress dipped under his weight, and then his arm was sliding around your waist, pulling you gently against him.

His chest pressed to your back, one of his legs curling around yours. His body was warm from the shower, and the scent of soap clung to his skin—clean and comforting, with that lingering hint of spice that was just him.

You exhaled slowly, letting yourself sink into the feeling. Into him.

Joel’s hand rested low on your belly for a beat, thumb brushing absent circles against the soft cotton of his shirt stretched over it. It felt instinctual, protective. Like his body had already memorized the shape of yours, the places that needed soothing.

“You alright?” he asked quietly, lips close to your ear.

You nodded, not trusting your voice just yet. “Yeah.” you said, swallowing dryly, “Just… nice to not be alone.”

He hummed in agreement, nuzzling the back of your neck gently. “You’re not,” he said. “Not tonight.”

His hand slipped up beneath the hem of his shirt you were wearing, fingers grazing your bare skin—light, curious, like he was just reminding himself of the feel of you. That he was still allowed to touch you like this.

You shifted slightly, giving him room. The smallest invitation.

Then—he stilled.

You felt it too. A soft nudge from inside, low and to the left. The baby moved again, a firm little kick right against Joel’s palm.

His breath caught. He didn’t pull away.

“Was that…?” he asked, voice low and rough, like he couldn’t believe it.

You smiled into the pillow. “Yeah. Think he’s saying hi.”

Joel didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Just stayed there, hand wide over your belly, chest pressed to your back. You felt him swallow, the rise and fall of his breath slowing as he processed it—really felt it.

“That’s…” he exhaled, the sound brushing the back of your neck. “Wow. He’s strong.”

“Tell me about it,” you murmured with a soft groan, shifting your hips to ease the pressure. Then your hand reached back, finding his cheek, fingers curling gently as you turned your head to look at him. “Those Miller genes must make tough boys.”

Joel gave a quiet huff of a smile, but his eyes stayed on your belly. On his hand, still moving slow under your shirt, like he was memorizing every curve.

“I wouldn’t… this wouldn’t be real without you,” you said quietly, your thumb brushing his jaw. “No matter how messy it gets. You’re part of this. He’s here because of you.”

His gaze flicked to yours then—steady, searching, something unreadable in it. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t pull away either. His fingers spread wider over your belly, grounding himself in the feel of it. Of you. Of him. The little life shifting beneath his hand.

Then he leaned in.

His lips met yours, slow and sure. The brush of his beard tickled your chin, your lips, your shoulder as he breathed you in. Your mouths molded together easily, unhurried, familiar.

The hand on your belly shifted—sliding lower, then wrapping around your hips to pull you closer into him. His body curved around yours, heat pressing into your back, chest to spine, hips tucked tight flush against yours. You could feel him against you as the moment turned heated, solid and wanting beneath his pants.

Still, he kissed you like he had all the time in the world.

Your fingers curled behind his neck, pulling him closer as your tongue brushed his. A soft, low sound slipped from his throat, almost like a whimper.

He kissed you more and more, each second growing a little needier. His hand slid further beneath the hem of the shirt you wore—his shirt—palm grazing your stomach, your ribs, until his fingers found the soft underside of your breast. He cupped you gently, thumb stroking over the sensitive skin, slow circles that made your breath stutter.

“You tell me to stop, I’ll stop,” he murmured against your mouth, but his hands stayed steady and gentle against your soft skin.

Your breath caught, but not from surprise. It was the way he said it—low, honest, a little desperate under all that restraint.

“I don’t want you to,” you whispered back.

That was all he needed. He groaned softly, deep in his chest, and kissed you again as you arched into him, pressing your chest against his palm, the ache blooming fast and low inside you. His touch grew firmer, more certain, squeezing and caressing, dragging another soft gasp from your lips.

Joel shifted, rolling his hips against you slowly, deliberately. You felt him thick and hard through his shorts, grinding into the curve of your ass with a low exhale.

“You look so pretty like this,” he murmured against your skin, voice thick with heat. His mouth trailed down the side of your face, beard scraping your cheek, your jaw, your neck as he kissed you slowly. “Belly all big and swollen with our baby, like it was always supposed to be this way.”

You moaned softly, your breath catching as your hips rocked back to meet him, chasing the friction. His hand slid from your breast down to your belly, splaying wide as he held you there, possessive and tender all at once. You whimpered, the heat between your legs only growing as he ground into you again, deeper now, his cock rubbing right against your soaked core through your panties and his shorts. The friction was maddening, so close, but not enough.

Joel groaned, voice breaking as he rutted against you. “You feel that? How bad I want you? How much I need you?”

His hand drifted down, slow and greedy, rubbing his calloused fingers over your covered mound. Then he pushed the fabric aside, dipping into your folds—slick and aching—and swore under his breath.

“Christ,” he muttered, thick with awe. “You’re soaked, honey. Already drippin’ for me.” His lips brushed your ear. “Already knocked up with my baby, and you still need more, huh?”

“Yes, Joel—please,” you gasped, your voice breaking. You lifted your knee, spreading your legs wider for him, offering everything.

“I know, darlin’,” he rasped, fingers gathering more of your slick, moving in slow, delicious circles around your clit. “Gonna make you come so many times before I even get my cock in you.”

You cried out softly as two of his thick fingers pushed inside with no hesitation, just the perfect stretch as he filled you. Your head dropped back against his shoulder, mouth falling open as pleasure bloomed bright and hot beneath your skin.

His lips grazed your neck, then your shoulder, the scruff of his beard scraping gently as his tongue licked a slow line over your pulse. He growled into your skin, low and deep, like he wanted to sink his teeth into you.

“That’s it,” he murmured, fingers curling deep as you pulsed around them. “You feel that? That’s me takin’ care of you. My girl.”

“So—so good, Joel,” you moaned, hips rolling to meet each thrust of his fingers. “Please. More.”

He hummed behind you, the sound dark and indulgent. He pulled his fingers out, slick and shining, and brought them up to circle your swollen clit, slow and firm.

“Look at you,” he whispered. “Completely fucked out and I haven’t even touched you properly yet. You love this, don’t you? Show me how much you need this.”

Your only answer was a moan, ragged and high as your body arched for him, chasing every stroke like it was oxygen. Joel kissed your neck again, then your jaw, voice rough and trembling. His fingers didn’t let up the slow, steady circles over your clit, so firm and perfect. His other hand had slid beneath your body, wrapping and anchoring you against him.

The pleasure climbed fast, stealing your breath, your thoughts. Your hips rolled helplessly, grinding into his hand, chasing that friction, that pressure, desperate to crest at the edge.

Your back arched against him, and your head tilted, lips parting on a ragged moan, “Joel—oh god—”

Your orgasm hit sharp and sudden. Your body seized, fluttering around nothing, thighs clenching tight as his fingers kept moving, easing you through it. He didn’t stop. Not when your hips jerked, not when your breath stuttered into sobs. Not even when your legs started to shake.

“C’mon, sweet girl,” he growled against you, “Again. Know you can do it.” 

His mouth was everywhere as he said it—your neck, your shoulder, your cheek—kissing you with a reverence that bordered on ruinous.

You barely had a moment to breathe before his fingers dipped back inside you. Two again, deep and slow, curling just right, the heel of his palm offering friction against your aching and sensitive clit. Your body responded instantly to him, your back curling further into him.

You whimpered, hand fisting in the sheets. He curled his fingers again, thick and warm as they pushed against the spot inside you that made your eyes roll back.  The second wave crept up slower, thicker, your limbs going soft and heavy even as your core tightened like a coil wound to the point of snapping.

You moaned, louder this time, body trembling in his arms.

“Joel—Joel, I—”

“I know, sweet girl,” he rasped, his mouth brushing your ear, fingers still working you with unrelenting care. “Can feel your pussy grippin’ my fingers. Be a good girl now and give me another.”

Your breath caught on a sob as your body shattered again—this one deeper, longer, stealing the last of your strength. You came with a choked cry, thighs trembling, hips bucking against his hand. Your muscles clung to his fingers like they were the only thing tethering you to the world, your body instinctively holding onto him, knowing he was the one who did this to you.

Joel held you through it. His palm stayed firm and grounding over your belly while the other hand slowed, easing you down from the high. His fingers remained inside, stroking you with reverence as your body twitched and shook with the aftershocks.

Then he brought his fingers up—slick and shining with your arousal—and kissed your cheek, slow and warm.

His voice dropped to a gravelly whisper at your ear, full of control and hunger.

“Open.”

It wasn’t a request. It was a honey-laced command, thick with heat and tension.

You obeyed.

Your lips parted, and his fingers slid into your mouth. The moment his knuckles brushed your lips, you closed around them, tongue flattening beneath as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him in. The taste of yourself on his skin was heady, electric.

A low rumble of satisfaction vibrated deep in Joel’s chest.

He pulled his fingers free with a slow drag and gripped your jaw with that same hand, still wet, turning your face toward him as he leaned in and kissed you—hungry, consuming. Your hand flew to his hair, twisting in the dark hair at the base of his neck as his tongue pushed into your mouth, both of you moaning into each other like it hurt to be apart for even a second.

His body pressed tighter to yours, and you felt him—thick and heavy, and his hand moved between you, tugging your panties down your thighs, off entirely, leaving you bare for him.

One hand wrapped around the base of his cock, guiding himself to your soaked entrance. He rubbed the swollen head through your folds, slow and teasing, gathering your slick as your breath hitched.

Then he lined himself up, the broad head pushing against your opening. The stretch made you gasp, even after everything he’d already given you. You wondered for a moment if you’d ever get used to the stretch of him splitting you in two.

You reached for him instinctively, needing him closer, deeper. Joel’s hand returned to your belly, spreading wide, anchoring you again as he sank into you.

Slow. Deep. Devastating.

You moaned, the sound trembling out of you, as he filled you inch by inch—no rush, no mercy. He buried himself to the hilt with a guttural groan, your walls fluttering around him in helpless welcome.

Your eyes fluttered shut, body arching back into him, completely surrounded by him. He held still for a beat, just feeling you pulling him in deeper. You whispered his name, and he exhaled shakily against your neck.

He stayed there for a moment, fully buried, like it took everything in him not to come right then as he let you adjust. He was so thick, stretching you as your walls fluttered with every uneven breath you took. And Joel felt it—every twitch, every pulse. His hand splayed across your belly like he needed to hold onto something solid before he lost control entirely.

“Fuck,” he groaned, voice torn and low. “You feel that? Feel how deep I am inside you?”

You whimpered, barely able to speak, body already fluttering around him in overstimulated waves. Your hands clutched at the sheets, at his arm, at anything you could find.

He pulled back just an inch and pushed in again, slow and heavy, dragging another desperate moan from your throat.

“Mine,” he growled, almost like he hadn’t meant to say it, but it slipped out as his cock felt you gripping him, quivering around him. His hips rolled into you again, grinding deep, making you cry out.

“You were made for this,” he rasped, kissing your neck, your shoulder, his hand gripping your breast now, fingers toying with your nipple. “For me. Made to be full of me—my cock, my cum, my baby.”

You gasped, arching into his touch, your body trembling from how completely he owned you in this moment. He thrust again—harder now, still slow but deeper, rougher. You could swear you could feel him in your stomach as he rutted into you.

You sobbed his name, overwhelmed, wrecked, clinging to him like he was your gravity.

His mouth dropped to your ear again, voice dark and shaking.

“You don’t even know what you do to me,” he whispered. “Can’t stop thinkin’ about it—how sweet you look like this. Belly round, tits heavy, pussy so fuckin’ wet for me I could drown in it.”

Another deep thrust. Another broken sound from your lips.

“Fuckin’ mine,” he growled, hips snapping harder now, losing rhythm in his need. “All of it. Every inch of you.”

He wrapped his arm under your belly again, lifting just enough to hold you steady, like you were something precious, fragile—his.

“I don’t care what happens tomorrow,” he said, thrusting slow and deep, burying his cock to the hilt. “Right now, you’re mine. This body’s mine. This pussy—” he grunted, grinding into you until your toes curled “—fuckin’ belongs to me.”

And you could only nod, barely breathing, gasping his name as the heat built again, faster this time, rising wild and uncontrollable between your legs. It was nearly Pavlovian how fast this man could bring your body to the edge within minutes.

Your body was already trembling again, every nerve stretched to its breaking point, and Joel felt it. He sensed it in the way your breath hitched, your thighs tensed, your walls fluttered around him. He thrusted deeper, slower, the weight of him unbearable in the best way. His hand slid between your legs, fingers circling your clit with practiced, devastating precision.

“You’re close again,” he muttered, lips at your ear. “I can feel it. Pussy’s already startin’ to milk me, like you need it. Need to come on my cock, huh, baby?”

You whimpered something incoherent, your nails digging into his arm as your hips rocked into every thrust, chasing that final wave. The pleasure was blinding, your body overstimulated but desperate. His voice. His hands. The way he filled you like nothing else ever could.

Then—barely above a whisper, like it wasn’t meant for you at all, “He could never give you this.”

Joel’s voice cracked around the words. Still deep. Still raw. But it shook.

“What I give you… how I make you feel...”

You sobbed out a moan, and that was it. Your body shattered, pleasure exploding through you so violently your legs kicked and shook, your cries muffled by the sheets. You clenched around him, tight and relentless, pulling him with you.

“Fuck—fuck, baby—” Joel groaned, losing himself, grinding deep into you as your orgasm ripped through you.

He cursed again, low and guttural, his hips jerking as he spilled into you with a strangled moan. The sound of his voice, wrecked and unguarded was enough to send another shiver down your spine.

He didn’t stop moving, not at first. Slow, instinctive rolls of his hips, keeping his cock deep inside you, like he couldn’t stand to pull away just yet.

You lay there, both of you trembling, still joined, his chest heaving against your back, his arms locked around your belly like you might disappear if he let go.

You hummed softly as he slid out of you, the loss of him making your body twitch with oversensitivity. He didn’t go far, his arms just curled tighter around you, pulling you into his chest like he couldn’t get enough of your skin. His face tucked into your neck, breathing you in like oxygen.

You closed your eyes and let him hold you, your hand resting on top of his where it lay over your belly.

“Joel?” you asked gently once your breath came back to you.

He hummed in response, tired and wrecked, lips brushing your skin.

“What did you mean earlier?”

You felt him tense—just barely. A flicker of hesitation. His breath slowed, deepened, like reality was creeping back in and neither of you could stop it.

“When?” he asked, low and cautious.

You swallowed hard, your voice quiet but certain. “You said… you wonder what would’ve happened if you told Tommy…”

I wonder what would’ve happened if I’d had the guts to tell my brother I saw you first.

You could feel the words hanging there between you, unspoken but known. 

Joel sucked in a breath and exhaled slowly before shifting, pulling away from your back and settling against the pillows. His arm draped over his eyes as he laid back, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that told you he was thinking. Too much.

You turned carefully, your body sore and boneless but needing to be near him. You laid your head on his chest, your belly pressing against his side, fitting awkwardly but close. He didn’t stop you. Just let you come to him.

His hand dropped from his eyes a moment later, resting on your back, his thumb tracing over your spine.

“I shouldn’t’ve said that,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “Not tonight.”

That was it. No elaboration. No apology, either. Just Joel’s version of walking the line—saying something and unsaying it all at once.

You looked up at him, searching his face. “But…what did you mean? Did you…have you always have feelings?”

He didn’t look at you. Just stared at the ceiling, jaw working.

After a moment, his hand slid to your belly, resting there like it always did.

“I don’t know what any of it means." he said finally. “I just know it ain’t simple.”

Your throat ached, but you nodded anyway. Because it wasn’t.

Not with him. Not with Tommy. Not with this.

You laid your head back on his chest, his heartbeat steady in your ear. And neither of you said anything else.

Because maybe silence was safer than the truth.

taglist: @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal @alidiggory92 @pinkylouise @izzy698 @doblasftcisco @devotedlypaleluminary @elsplayground @puduvallee @victoriaholland @legoemma @leenieweenie12 @possiblyafangirl @alitaar @mads198-9 @emmaoc10 @auteurdelabre @the-last-twin-of-krypton @lilasskicker2 @levislegislation @flowercrowns-goodvibes @starmurdock @94namkooksworld

[mugglebornmarvelite]

Mission Mishap

Paring: Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Avenger! Fem! Reader (Grumpy x Sunshine)

Summary: A recon mission gone awry leads to Bucky having to protect his sunshine. As the snowstorm gets worse, he becomes her shelter from the storm, showing a tenderness that he rarely allows others to see.

Word Count: Roughly 1.8k

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, fluff, injury-related pain, bruising, cold exposure, mild language (like two curse words)

Author’s Note: It was snowing, and I got ✨inspired✨

This felt a little choppy because I combined two drabbles, but I think it works :)

Navigation

What should have been a quick recon in the mountains became more complicated when a snowstorm hit faster and harder than previously anticipated. You could barely keep up with Bucky as he pushed ahead, his sharp eyes scanning the nearby. The cold penetrated through your layers; gnawing at your bones and intensifying the ache of your bruises, but you forced yourself to keep moving.

"Can you handle a few more yards?" he asked, his voice low, and despite the chaos, was comforting. "Map says there’s a hostel a quarter of a mile away."

"I’m fine," you mumbled. You knew your words were merely a weak attempt to reassure both yourself and him.

Bucky turned his head toward you, his gaze softening. 

"Don’t do that," he replied. "Stop pretending you’re fine when you’re so clearly not."

The harsh wind bit at your face, and you tried to keep up with him, you couldn't hide the way your teeth chattered.

"You need to stop," Bucky said, voice sharp and authoritative. "You’re shaking like a leaf. Let me help you."

Before you could argue, he moved without hesitation, shedding his jacket in one smooth motion and draping it over your shoulders. 

"Come here," Bucky said. "No arguments. You’re freezing, and I won’t let it get worse."

You tried to protest as you stammered, "I-I’m fine. Really, Bucky, I’m fine."

But Bucky wasn’t having it. 

His glared down and you and you looked away.

"No, you’re not," he said again, this time softer. "You’re going to listen to me now, okay?"

He didn’t wait for a response. He wrapped his arms around you, guiding your arms around his neck and lifting you without much effort. You buried your face in the crook of his neck as you gave up on protesting. His body heat radiated through his sweater and the warm jacket he wrapped you in helped in instantly melting away the cold that had settled into your bones.

Bucky’s chest rose and fell under you, steady and reassuring, grounding you as the world around you spun with snow, harsh winds making it difficult to see. He held you close, his grip never wavering as if to say he wasn’t letting go, not for anything.

"You listen to me," he said said softly. "If anything happens to you out here, I’m going to be fucking pissed. Understand?"

"Noted," you said softly, your voice muffled by his neck. You tightened your grip on him, clinging to him as your life depended on it because, in a way, it did. Not that you’d ever complain.

You could feel his steady heartbeat, the way his breath slowed as he focused on getting you both to safety. His steps were purposeful, unhurried, but determined as he carried you toward the small hostel.

When you finally reached the building, Bucky didn’t waste a second. Without a word, he guided you inside and he gently set you down on a chair. The warmth of the room feeling like a stark contrast to the biting cold that had gripped you just moments before. Pun intended.

"You stay here," he commanded, his voice brooking no argument. "I’ll get us a room and call the team."

You nodded. 

As he moved to make arrangements, you wrapped yourself tightly in his jacket, the faint scent of him still lingering on the fabric. 

You winced from the pain in your side, but you manged to stay still. You looked out the window, watching as the storm raged on.

When Bucky returned, he didn’t waste any time sitting next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. 

"Better?" he asked.

You leaned into him, letting the comfort of his presence envelop you. 

"Yeah," you said softly. "Much better. Thanks, Bucky."

"You don’t have to thank me," he muttered, his voice low, almost intimate. "I’m just doing what’s right. Keeping you safe."

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to melt into the warmth of his embrace. "I know," you whispered, your voice quiet but filled with gratitude. "And I’m glad you’re here."

Bucky’s fingers brushed through your hair, his protective grip never faltering. "And I’m not going anywhere," he murmured.

A moment later, he scooped you up effortlessly, carrying you to the room he booked and dumping you on the bed. The sudden motion made you giggle as you kicked off your boots.

Bucky turned up the heat, and as the warmth began to fill the room, you settled onto the covers. 

"What did the team say?" you asked quietly.

"They’ll try to make it tonight," he replied. "But I told them we can wait until the morning."

You raised an eyebrow, puzzled. "Why?"

"Because I’m keeping you safe tonight," he murmured, quickly adding, "And Sam snores. I can hear him from two rooms down the hall. I’m in no rush to go home, sunshine."

You laughed softly, your eyes brightening. "You’re unbelievable, Bucky."

Bucky grinned, his usual grumpy expression softened. "Yeah, but you’re stuck with me."

"Seriously though," he said, his voice suddenly quieter, "I’m not letting anything happen to you. Not on my watch."

"I know," you whispered, your voice soft but filled with sincerity. "And I trust you."

His eyes softened, just for a moment, before he cleared his throat and pulled away slightly, pretending to be unaffected by the vulnerability in the air. 

“Hey,” he muttered, his voice hushed and rough with concern. He paused for a moment as if considering whether to push or back off. He couldn’t ever quite figure out how to balance his protective nature. But when it came to you, he couldn’t help himself. “You sure you’re okay?”

You forced a smile, shifting a little more, trying to get comfortable, but the throbbing in your side was relentless. The last thing you wanted was for him to notice. He already had enough on his shoulders; you wouldn’t let him add your worries to his pile.

“I’m fine,” you whispered. Lie.

"Bullshit," he grumbled, his voice laced with frustration, the one that surfaced when he cared too much and couldn’t fix things fast enough. "What’s the matter?"

Bucky stared at you, his eyes narrowing. 

God, that stare. 

It was like he could read every inch of your soul, and you couldn’t breathe under the weight of it.

“Talk to me.”

You shifted uncomfortably, your side flaring up in protest. You winced, sucking in a sharp breath, hoping he didn’t notice, but of course, he did. 

He always noticed when it came to his sunshine.

"My side. Just a little pain," you admitted, the bruise hidden under the layers of clothing you still wore.

Bucky’s face softened, his worry evident. Without a word, he stood up, reaching for the small medical kit in his bag.

"Lift your shirt," he said, his voice low but commanding.

"I'm fine-" You mumbled. 

But Bucky wasn’t one to back down. He crouched in front of you, his large hands already moving to your waist, his fingers brushing the fabric of your shirt with a touch that was far too tender for someone like him.

“Lift.” The word was soft, but there was a dangerous edge to it, a warning wrapped in affection. The way he said it made it clear that this was happening.

You frowned and you raised the hem of your shirt, exposing the tender spot on your side where the impact from earlier had left its mark. "Shh, sunshine." He whispers soothingly. "You're okay, promise."

Bucky’s hands were gentle as he inspected the injury, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin, and his touch was careful but sure. There was something tender about the way he looked at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him. It made you lightheaded.

“Doesn’t look too bad,” he muttered, though you could hear the underlying concern in his tone. “But we’re still gonna clean it up, yeah?”

 His brow furrowed, and for a moment, his expression softened into something that hurt to look at. 

Like you meant something to him.

The second his fingers brushed over your side, just lightly grazing the bruise, you couldn’t help it. A whimper escaped, and your body tensed. You hated it. Hated being weak.

“Shh.” His voice was soothing. “You’re doing so good.”

You tried to move, to escape the pressure, but Bucky’s hand was already on your abdomen, holding you gently but firmly in place. His fingers splayed out over your skin, not forceful, but steady.

“Sorry,” you muttered, your voice strained as another wave of pain hit and you squirmed.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Bucky murmured, his grip tightening just a little, his other hand reaching for the antiseptic wipe. "Just breathe for me, okay?"

Something about his voice, soft yet commanding, made the tension in your body ease just enough for you to inhale deeply, to steady yourself.

“You’re tough, sunshine,” Bucky murmured, his eyes softening even more as he cleaned the bruise. "You’ll be alright."

But his voice held a gentleness that made your heartache. As he worked, cleaning the wound, his touch was slow, deliberate. The sting from the wipe was sharp, but his hands on your skin were grounding, like he was pulling the pain out of you with every careful movement.

Every time you whimpered, every time the pain made itself known, he soothed you with gentle words,“I know, sunshine, I got you,” “It’s okay, you’re okay.”

He cleaned the wound with slow, careful movements. The cool, sterile wipe stung a little, but his gentle touch was soothing, making the discomfort easier to bear. 

“I got you.” His voice was quiet, almost a whisper. A calm anchor. “Just breathe, sunshine.”

And you did.

When he finally finished, he leaned back and reached for a bandage. He pressed the bandage against your side like he was trying to heal something deeper than the bruise, something you couldn’t name.

“Good as new.” His voice was softer now. “You’re tough, sunshine. You’ll be alright.”

You smiled faintly, your fingers brushing the edge of the bandage. “Thanks, Bucky.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbled, but there was no bite to it. His gruffness was a comfort, like a wall of security you could lean against when everything else felt shaky.

“Just-” His eyes softened as he looked at you, the rare tenderness that always made your chest tighten. “Get some sleep, alright?”

You nodded, curling up under the covers.

“Goodnight,” you whispered, your voice small and soft as you nestled against him.

Bucky’s hand gently brushed through your hair, his fingers pausing to stroke your scalp in a way that made you feel like the most important thing in the world.

“Goodnight, милая девочка.” Sweet girl.

His words were quiet, a soft reassurance in the night. You let out a sigh, the ache in your side fading as the warmth of his body enveloped you, and slowly, you drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Bucky stayed awake for a while, keeping watch, making sure you were alright. But as the night drew on, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, making sure you were okay before falling asleep himself.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

If you'd like to be added to my taglist

Much love x

- Maeve

[kateschi]

princesses explode things too!

synopsis: katsuki is tasked with the bedtime story today, and he shows you and your daughter his own version of a princess story.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: princess bakugou when

the quiet hum of the night settles over your home, and as you lean against the doorframe of your daughter’s bedroom, you can’t help but smile.

inside, katsuki sits on the edge of the bed, arms crossed, glaring down at the open storybook in his lap as if it’s personally insulted him.

"alright, brat," he grumbles, his voice low and rough as he tries to keep it from waking her up. "you wanted a story, so listen up. we’ve got a badass queen, explosions, and—"

your daughter, tucked under the covers with wide, eager eyes, interrupts him, her small voice cutting through the intensity of his storytelling. "papa, I want a princess story!"

bakugou’s brow furrows, his signature scowl deepening. "a princess story? that’s lame. why would you want a princess when you can have a warrior queen blowing things up?"

"princesses can fight too!" she insists, her tiny fists balled up in determination, a spark in her eyes that reminds you of her father.

you stifle a laugh, watching the interaction unfold. katsuki, in all his gruffness, isn’t built for soft, fluffy stories. still, he’s trying.

"fine," he mutters, flipping a page aggressively.

"once upon a time, there was a queen. but she wasn’t some weakling waiting to be saved, got it? she had explosions in her hands, just like me, and she blew up anyone who tried to mess with her."

your daughter giggles, her smile wide as she squirms under the blankets. "she had explosions?!"

"yeah, yeah," katsuki waves her off, but his lips twitch into a small, almost imperceptible smile.

"and she didn’t need any stupid prince to save her either. she took down a dragon by herself—boom!" he claps his hands together for emphasis, making your daughter laugh even harder.

you take the opportunity to step further into the room, catching katsuki’s attention. his eyes soften the moment he sees you, though his grumpy expression remains firmly in place.

"everything going alright in here?" you tease, crossing your arms as you lean against the wall.

he shoots you a look, his tone sarcastic.

"yeah, just perfect. you will be the death of me, kid," he mutters under his breath, but you notice the way he gently brushes a strand of hair from d/n’s face, his touch almost tender despite the rough words.

your daughter beams up at you. "mama, papa’s telling me a princess story! but she’s really strong, and she blows things up!"

you raise an eyebrow, looking between the two of them. "sounds intense. shouldn’t this be a bedtime story?"

katsuki sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. "I’m trying, alright? but she keeps asking for princesses. what am I supposed to do?"

you chuckle softly, moving closer to the bed as katsuki grumbles under his breath. "maybe you should throw in a castle or two. something soft to balance out the explosions?"

katsuki rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue, turning back to your daughter, who’s still gazing up at him with adoration.

"fine. the warrior queen had a giant, unbreakable castle. but instead of waiting around inside, she’d climb to the top and jump off it like a badass—"

"katsuki!" you scold, lightly tapping his arm. "that’s not calming."

your daughter, however, is delighted, giggling uncontrollably at the idea. "like a pro-hero! like you, daddy!"

he shoots you a smug grin, clearly proud of himself for entertaining her. "see? she loves it."

with a playful sigh, you sink down on the bed beside them. "alright, let’s compromise. maybe after she jumps off the castle, she finds a... magical garden with flowers and—"

"and traps!" katsuki adds, smirking as he leans into the story again. "where she fights off anyone dumb enough to step foot in it. but she doesn’t get scratched ‘cause she’s too fast."

your daughter is practically bouncing now, excitement filling the room as she claps her hands together. "she sounds so cool!"

"of course she is!" katsuki boasts. he glances over at you, his expression softening a bit. "but after all that, she finally goes to sleep. ‘cause even the strongest queens need to rest, right?"

your daughter yawns as if on cue, her eyelids drooping despite her best efforts to stay awake. "right..." she murmurs, snuggling deeper into the blankets.

you exchange a look with katsuki, both of you smiling as she finally gives in to sleep. katsuki leans down, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before pulling the covers up to her chin.

as you both stand and quietly make your way out of the room, katsuki glances at you with a grin. "told you my version would work."

you hum with a roll of your eyes before asking, "by the way, who is the badass queen?"

he looks at you. "you, obviously," he says, rolling his eyes before smirking. "my very badass wife."

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[audliminal]

It's just a game, right? Pt 1

Masterpost

"I just don't see how sitting around is gonna do anything!" Dash argues, face to face with Sam.

"Well, if you have other ideas you're more than welcome to offer them, but we can't just take out the giw. They have more manpower than us, more equipment, and the new agents actually seem to be competent in fights! And we are a bunch of high school students!"

They are all, ostensibly in English Class right now, but even Mr. lancer has forgone the illusion of normal classwork. He assigns books and hands out reading assignments every week, but nobody really cares whether they get turned in or not. The city, after all, has a much bigger problem.

"I don't know! But sitting here-"

"He's not entirely wrong, the longer we wait the more likely they figure it out, just like we all did." As Valerie finishes speaking, the room temperature drops noticeably, and the kids all glance nervously over at Danny who's head hasn't moved from it's spot on his desk. He almost seems dead with how still he is. Beside him Tucker stares at his PDA, the only one who hasn't reacted to the temperature change.

"Should I even ask what you're messing with?" Sam asks, walking over while the others stare nervously at Danny.

"Actually, yeah." Tucker easily shifts so they can both see the webpage displayed on the handmade tech. "I got something through."

"I thought getting stuff through wasn't really the problem?"

"I mean, yeah, they're letting Everything Is Normal posts through, but this wasn't. That. I was, um, kind of fucking around with ciphers and shit? Not saying anything relevant, but just seeing whether they'd flag any old weird shit, you know? And um. I got a video out."

"Okay, but how does that help us?" Valerie asks.

"It helps because if they let a cipher through then means if I encode shit well enough, then it'll also get through."

"But if it's, like, that hard to figure out what it says, then won't it be useless on the outside?"

"The chances of it getting into the hands of someone who could crack it do seem, uh, improbable."

"Not if we stack the deck."

"Wes-"

"No, listen, I know you're all still mad at me, but like. If you can attract a community of codebreakers? Then eventually someone will crack the code on what you need them to!"

"If you have an idea then just fucking say it, Wes," Sam snaps.

"Make an ARG. We can even have like, the base level be completely United to anything real, just make up a story about, i dunno, space travel? And then bury the actual info beneath that. Eventually somebody will crack into the real stuff, and if it's popular enough by then, and the GIW tries to suppress it? That'll be even more suspicious-looking, and just make them dig harder."

"What the fuck is a ARG?" Dash asks, pulling his gaze away from their definitely-just-sleeping classmate.

"Augmented reality game. It's like an unfiction thing. Make a story but the story is interactive and people have to decode shit to figure out what's going on." Tucker glances over to Wes. "And actually not a bad idea. If we all work together, we could probably make something cool."

"You could treat it as a class-wide project." Mr. Lancer says, making everyone jump. "That way I can back you up if anyone starts asking questions."

"Make it about black holes," Danny says, finally pulling himself up from his desk. "We can base it in wormhole theory, and distract the GIW with all the theoretical science."

"What, so like we make videos that seem like they're being sent through a black hole?"

"Fuckin. Sure, why not? As if shit couldn't get any weirder around here."

"Star, please try to refrain from swearing in front of me. I know the situation is - difficult - but I am officially still your teacher."

"Sorry, Lancer."

[neeeooon]

Hellooo, I really adore your writing so much, I’m not sure if you’ve done this before and

I’m sorry if it’s a bit of a hassle but I’d like to request (headcannons of?) the blue lock boys dating some sort of a clinically depressed reader, (or just a generally sad reader) most preferably the itoshi brothers, isagi and kaiser but really, I wont mind if you write about other characters!

if you can’t or don’t want to its really alright, have a great day!

ofc 🤍 my inbox is always open if you need

i got another ask similar to this and will add those characters here since most were the same

when you’re depressed

bf bllk x gn!reader. contains themes that may be triggering. angst with a lot of comfort <3 ooc

itoshi sae

-> sae isn’t the biggest guy, so when you steal his sweaters, they usually fit decently well. when sae comes home after a business trip to find you swimming in one of his favorites, he can’t help but be concerned

-> “hey. what did you eat while i was gone? try any new recipes?” he tries to be as casual as possible, but you simply hum. “sure, i guess.” your reluctance to answer properly makes his heart beat harder with anxiety

-> “like what?” “why are you asking me all of a sudden?” “just curious. wanna make something new for dinner.” “i’m not hungry.” he frowns at the indignation in your voice

-> he thinks for a moment before heading into the kitchen. “what if i cook?” “i said—“ “i know. but you might change your mind and want to eat later.” you grumble something under your breath but don’t fight him

-> sae doesn’t tell you that he took time off of work for the rest of the month, feigning that the entire team was given vacation time. it’s not that he doesn’t trust you to be on your own, he can tell how lonely you get by yourself

-> after a week of being home, sae sees you smile for the first time since his business trip. he tries not to make a big deal out of it; he knows you’ll talk to him when you’re ready

itoshi rin

-> you stop coming to his games, and rin hates that that’s what it takes for him to finally realize something’s off with you

-> he starts paying more attention to you, realizing how you’re just not… you. your energy is constantly depleted, your words curt, your expression blank and eyes tired

-> “y/n,” he tries one day, catching you as you flip mindlessly through a book you’re barely paying attention to. “is everything okay with you?”

-> you wanted to blow him off and pretend everything is fine, but when you see the genuine concern in his teal eyes, tears start dripping uncontrollably. you feel hollow as rin sits by your side, frantically trying to wipe the wetness away

-> “i’m not good for you.” “stop talking.” “i’m not good. you’ll worry, and it’ll affect your playing. i’m not good. you should do better.”

-> rin’s hands still on your face, forcing you to meet his sharp gaze. “stop. you’re good, don’t worry about me. there isn’t ‘better’, y/n, i just want you to feel better. that’s all.”

-> you don’t argue. you couldn’t even if you wanted to, as rin tugs you forward and into his chest, hand gently pressing your face into his shoulder for you to cry

isagi yoichi

-> you and isagi don’t have any college classes together, so you often leave at different times. he didn’t realize how much class you were missing until one of your friends cornered him demanding proof of life from you

-> “babe, i thought your friend was gonna murder me on my way here.” “hm. who?” “the one who always wears one of those scary claw clips..” “oh. lol. tell her i’m fine.”

-> that confuses him. “tell her yourself in your class tomorrow..?” “oh, right. yeah, i’ll tell her.” “… y/n?” “hm?” “how much class have you skipped recently?”

-> your lack of reply makes his chest ache a bit. “y/n? are you okay?” “fine.” “do you want to leave together tomorrow? i need to meet with some advisors, anyway.” “no, i’ll be fine here.”

-> isagi isn’t stupid, it’s clear that something’s wrong, but he doesn’t know the best way to approach this without freaking you out. after much mental debate, he sits next to you after class one day and lays out a confirmation for an advising meeting he made for you

-> “yoichi, wh—“ “if it’s all too much right now, too overwhelming, you still have time to drop without consequences. forcing yourself isn’t good for you, y/n.”

-> you don’t remember crying and flinch when isagi wipes your tears away. “i’ll help you any way i can, okay?” “i don’t want to be a burden…” “it’s not being a burden when i’m offering my help. i want to help. i want to see you being yourself again. let me.” “okay… we can go together?” “i wouldn’t miss it.”

michael kaiser

-> it used to be that you’d always text kaiser after your lectures ended so you could meet up for lunch. now he’s the one asking you to hang out, and your replies are either rejections or leaving him on delivered for hours

-> when he confronts you, you snap at him. “i’m just busy, okay? leave me alone!” you don’t mean it, he knows that, but it still triggers something in him to see you give in so easily to anger like that

-> you’re like an empty shell after that, no matter how many times he attempt to make conversation with you. you’re back to your one-word replies, and he doesn’t last long before finally snapping, too

-> “i can’t save you, y/n. i don’t know how. i’m not leaving, i’m not going anywhere, but the only one who can save you is yourself.” it wasn’t what you wanted to hear, but it was what you needed. you didn’t want kaiser to save you, but even if you did, you knew helping you would only hurt him

-> so you hug yourself until he steps forward and replaces your arms with his. “i don’t know what to do. how to help you. tell me what to do and i’ll do it.”

-> he comes to therapy with you for moral support, keeping a hand on you thigh on rubbing circles along your knuckles. “thank you,” you tell him on the way home, and he kisses the back of your hand. “i just want you to be okay.”

bachira meguru

-> bachira isn’t used to seeing you without your smile. his friends tease that you’re a sunshine couple, since you’re always laughing and having so much fun together

-> but no days turn into weeks, and suddenly bachira can’t remember the last time you looked happy

-> “honey?” “…” “you know you can talk to me, right? if you wanted to?” you didn’t want to talk, you wanted to run into his arms and fall apart. but instead you turned away from him, refusing to so much as meet his eyes

-> bachira isn’t deterred and continues trying to make you smile. one evening he hears you sniffle, and before he can ask, you throw yourself into his arms and cry. “i’m sad. i’m so sad all the time, and i don’t know how to feel better.”

-> he just holds you tight, keeping you together to the best of his abilities. “we’ll get through this,” he smiles into your hair. “i won’t go anywhere. promise!”

nagi seishiro

-> he’s been there, and since he wasn’t able to pull himself from that state on his own, he doesn’t know how to help you. it hurts

-> you’ve been laying motionless in bed for hours when nagi finally arrives to check on you. he doesn’t say anything before crawling beneath the covers and burying his face between your shoulder blades. they’re thinner than they were the last time he visited you

-> “this isn’t helping.” “i know.” “i don’t feel anything.” “i know.” you’re quiet for a moment, and your voice breaks when you say “nagi…” he places a ghost of a kiss against your back. “i know.”

-> you agree to see someone after sobbing in his arms for hours. it isn’t perfect, and it doesn’t always help, but it’s better than nothing

-> though nagi claims he’s no help to you, having him around lifts your spirits. he makes you feel safe and loved, even when he’s killing you in prop hunt. you can tell he notices your shift, because he’ll come up with more excuses than usual to spend time with you

-> “you’re not slick, you know.” “i know.” “you must love me a lot to ditch reo for me.” “i know. i do.” “.. i love you a lot, too.”

[gojodickbig]

patching up neighbor!toji after he went on a shitty mission

conts: fluff.

wc: 1,9k.

divider from @uzmacchiato !!

the room was quiet, except for the faint hiss of toji’s breathing and the rustle of bandages as you worked. the smell of antiseptic filled the dimly lit room as you knelt in front of toji, his shirt somewhere on the floor, and his bare torso revealing a nasty gash along his side. his sharp eyes followed your every move, a flicker of amusement dancing in them despite the grim situation. he had been complaining ever since you started patching him up—about the bandages being too tight, the antiseptic being too cold, and how “unnecessary” this whole thing was. but you had long since learned that his grumbling didn’t mean much. he was always like this when you had to deal with him— always too proud, always too stubborn.

"if you don’t want my help patching you up, then why did you come here?” you asked, your patience wearing thin. his attitude was getting on your nerves.

“i just needed a place to crash for a moment. i couldn’t go into my apartment like this—my kid’s there,” he replied, his voice low and lazy. “i can patch myself up, y’know.”

“yeah, sure, like you wouldn’t have just slapped some duct tape on it and called it a day,” you shot back, glaring at him. “stay still,” you snapped, pressing a soaked cloth to his wound. He winced but didn’t flinch. “you’re lucky this didn’t hit anything vital. what were you even thinking?!” you paused. “this is why you keep getting hurt, toji. you’re reckless.”

“luck’s my middle name.” he chuckled at his own joke, a deep, gravelly sound that made your stomach twist in a way you tried to ignore. “and besides, reckless gets the job done, sweetheart, and i’m literally still breathing, aren’t i?”

“yeah, barely.” you ignored his pathetic attempt at humor and grabbed another strip of bandage, your hands moving quickly but carefully.

“thought i’d be fine, like always,” he replied with a shrug that made the bandages in your hand tremble. “told you, sweetheart, i don’t die that easy.”

you glared at him. “you can’t keep living like this. one of these days, you’re not going to walk away.” you huffed, rolling your eyes. “you’d be in a morgue if i wasn’t here. now stop acting invincible and stop moving.”

“is that what this is about?” he smirked, his head tilting. “you worried about me?”

you sighed, pressing the gauze against his side a little harder than necessary. “you make it impossible not to, showing up at my door in the middle of the night like this.” his cocky tone pricked your nerves, but the anger fizzled quickly under the weight of your own concern. “and someone has to worry about you. you clearly don’t.”

that wiped the smirk off his face, replaced by something quieter. your hands brushed his skin, and his muscles tensed under your touch.

“you’re too soft, you know,” he said after a moment, his voice dropping. “patching up someone like me when you should just ignore me.”

“you’re like a stray cat. you keep showing up whenever you’re in trouble. it’s not that easy to ignore you.”

he laughed at that, though the sound was rough and dry. “a cat, huh? thought you’d pick something tougher.”

“tough things don’t need saving,” you said simply, standing to grab another roll of bandages.

his grin faded, and for a moment, the room felt heavier. “and you think i do?” he raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his eyes.

you paused, glancing at him. “if you didn’t, you wouldn’t keep coming back.”

his eyes lingered on you, unreadable as always, before he leaned back in his chair.

“you’re a strange one,” he said finally, his voice quieter than usual. “most people know better than to get involved with me.”

“most people don’t live next door, and they don’t show up at my apartment in the middle of the night like this,” you replied, starting to wrap the bandage around his torso again.

he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “bad luck for you, then.”

your eyes shot up to his face, ready to argue, but the teasing edge in his voice was gone.

there was a slight silence between the two of you before he decided to speak again. “you’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?”

“you’ve got a funny way of showing gratitude,” you muttered, looking up at him.

“i didn’t mean it like that,” he paused, running a hand through his messy black hair. “i meant,” he continued, his voice quieter, “you’re the only one who bothers. everyone else knows better.”

“knows better?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“they know i’m not worth it,” he replied, his tone quiet but still laced with that same cocky edge.

you froze, startled by the admission. toji fushiguro, the unshakable rogue, didn’t flinch at death, but here he was, baring something close to vulnerability.

“maybe you are worth it,” you said softly, the words slipping out before you could stop yourself.

he barked out a laugh, though it lacked its usual bite. “that’s cute. you think you can fix me?”

“who said i’m trying to fix you?” you shot back, your tone firm. “maybe i just care, toji. ever think of that?”

his smirk deepened, though his eyes softened slightly. “care, huh? that’s a dangerous thing, sweetheart.”

“why?” you asked, your voice quieter. “you can move now.”

he leaned forward, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. “because when people care, they don’t think straight. they do stupid things.” his gaze dropped to the bandage, then back to you. “you’re already doing one by sticking around me.”

“then why do you let me?” you countered, your heart hammering. “why do you keep knocking at my door when you’re like this? why do you keep showing up when you’re hurt? if you don’t want me near you, then why is it always you who comes near me first?”

for the first time, toji didn’t have a quick answer. he let out a dry laugh. “i don’t know. i really don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “maybe i’m just selfish,” he muttered. “guess i like knowing someone’s dumb enough to stick around.”

you raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at your lips. “that’s the closest thing to a thank you i’ll get, isn’t it?”

“don’t push your luck,” he said, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward. “i’m not the guy you want looking out for you.”

"maybe not,” you replied, standing and crossing your arms. “but i’m not going anywhere. deal with it.”

his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, something unspoken passing between you. “you’re for real a pain in the ass.”

“you keep saying that,” you looked at him with a teasing smile, “and yet, you keep coming here.”

he paused for a moment, looking at you with that familiar, unreadable expression. “yeah, yeah,” he said, his voice soft. then, he stood, grabbing his discarded shirt from the floor. “have a good night, sweetheart.”

with that, he gave you one last glance and walked out the door.

© gojodickbig on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.

[meathunt]

Vampire dads idea (pt.2)

It has taken me a bit ^^u, but I'm back! For now at least hehe Hope you enjoy this lil thing (Pt. 1) TW forced transformation, kinda parental neglect?, light kidnapping, infantilization ------------------.* ✶  ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ✶ *.------------------

Warm, warm, warm. Everything around you was so warm, and soft, you dare say almost perfect.

Emphasis on almost, as you felt hunger and thirst attacking you once again, not surprising thinking about your last meal, if it could even be called that, was sitting on the floor of your kitchen completely rejected by your body.

You tossed and turn between the blankets, feeling very out of it, when you opened your eyes everything seemed a bit blurry, suddenly becoming more aware of other factors, sweat covering your body, your clothes even if still they were soft, felt stiff in some parts too.

“Oh are waking up little one?” A chirp escaped as a response and your stomach started growling while you tried to sit up and focus on your surroundings. “Oh, you are hungry” The voice brings something near your mouth “Here”, you react before you identify what the object is, biting down on the object.

A white flash of hot pain flows from your mouth to the rest of your body, making you instantly let go with a screech, tears forming on your eyes. Whimper growing into sobs that wrack your frame while you cover your mouth. “What happened?! Are you okay?!? Let me see” Elias gets closer to you, and before you could try to retreat he holds your mouth and forces it open, inspecting the inside of it to see what happened. The situation made you cry harder, not even understanding yourself what happened.

You heard the door open and close, and someone getting close “Elias, what’s going on? What did you do?!” the newcomer left something on the ground near you and got close. They argued while you wailed, too deep into the pain and discomfort you were feeling to really focus on what they were discussing.

Elias let go of your cheeks, while Thomas took you and held you near his chest, softly rocking you while rubbing circles on your back.

"It's okay baby, shhhh. That big dummy forgot you are too little to get blood on your own, it's okay" the swaying motions worked, turning your wails into slow sobs, still feeling the ghost pain in your teeth.

He sat inside the nest, changing your position from hiding on his chest to sit on his lap, and brings a bowl with some type of mush in it " Now cutie, it's very important you eat, after all you need it to grow big and strong, yeah?" He takes a spoon of the mixture "Now, here comes the airplane~♥︎"

He brings the spoon near your mouth. Still feeling a bit uneasy from what just happened you really want to turn your head around and not bend to this childish treatment, but the instinct in you recognize it as food and doesn't think twice about accepting the treat.

Once it enters your mouth you completely forget what you were upset about, happily eating from the spoons. He giggles about your reaction and helps you until the bowl is completely empty.

You are satiated for the moment, the thirst is still there, but it feels very minor and you are able to ignore it. Thomas still plays with your hair.

"Love, come take them for a bit” Thomas stops playing with your hair and starts separating you from his chest “Now that they have some food on their stomach, we should do the transition”

Elias already sitting near you shifts "isn't it too soon? They look too weak still, shouldn't we wait a bit?" Even if his mouth was against it he still followed the command, taking you in his arms.

"Nonsense, the sooner the better. I want to sever any connection to that failure of a vampire that calls themselves their maker. I also can't wait to form a bond between us" You hear him putting the bowl down "Now, be a dear and put them in position, let me see where the bite is"

You can feel Elias's hands cradled you to his chest and baring your neck.

With some effort they located the two little holes that were almost healed. Thomas fingers caressed the side of your neck and you felt Elias holding you tighter, making you feel nervous. "W-what are you-".

"Shhh baby. Try to relax, I will be very fast, I promise" You feel a breath on your neck and them just blinding pain, very similar to the night of your turning, a cold started to spread in your chest and the side of your neck was burning. But unlike the last time it was also very painful, extremely so, as if he was ripping something from inside you.

You started to trash into Elias hold, screaming and crying, but unable to move even a centimeter in his hold. "I know baby, I know, it hurts very bad doesn't it? It's almost over " his words gave you no comfort whatsoever, and after a minute you felt yourself loosing strength. The little voice in your head that had been accompanying you since you woke up, was screaming with you but with way more urgency, clouding your mind and urging you to escape their hold. A final dying screech before it slowly began to lose power, until you couldn't feel it in your mind anymore. Leaving you not only feeling hollow, but also your nerves being raw, as if brutally yanked out of place.

When Thomas retracted his fangs from your throat you couldn't move a finger willingly, but your body softly twitching now and then, just quietly sobbing on Elias shirt while he kept whispering reassuring words.

"You were so brave baby, now just one more step to finish this, and then you can nap my little champion"

Elias carefully separated from you, allowing your face to be visible and holding you like a baby before their feeding. Even with your cloudy vision you could differentiate an arm getting closer to you. Thomas made a long cut on their wrist, letting their black blood start to flow. Quickly they put the wound on your lips letting the liquid pool in your open mouth.

Your body weakly took action, closing your lips on it and slowly, if a little desperately, drinking it down, it felt heavy on your stomach. But in a sick way, it was a reassuring heaviness, your eyes slowly closing while gulping down.

You were so very tired, and even if this experience felt somewhat worse than the first time, as you started to succumb to exhaustion, you felt... safe, a reassuring vibration coming from the chest you were laying on, and the hand that was caressing your hair. All made you feel almost content, just letting yourself go and mixing with the darkness of unconsciousness. ------------------.* ✶  ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ✶ *.------------------

"Are you sure this was the best decision lover?" Elias said, still petting your head, your tearful face broke his heart and the thought that you were in pain wasn't very pleasant to him.

A little exasperated laugh escaped Thomas lips, chest still rumbling in contentment while holding you close. "Dearest, we talked about this. I know you think this was too much of a shock for them, but you got to understand, even if there aren’t many physical changes, we don't know how far along they are in their turning, if we waited more, maybe claiming them would have been impossible"

Elias sighs and scoots closer, peaking at you, cleaning the remnants of tears from your face, you looked so small curled up on his husband chest. He can't phantom why someone would leave such a cute kid all alone during this process. Even if the situation you all were in was less than ideal, he was very happy that at last Thomas and him were going to be blessed with a child. Their family slowly growing.

He kisses the cheek of his husband, smiling at him " I trust you, my heart, you know what's best" ------------------.* ✶  ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ✶ *.------------------

You wake up with your mind feeling fuzzy, barely being able to open your eyes when a sudden feeling of distress and loss filled you, your instinct took over, looking for something with blurry vision, making you feel you were going to lose it if you couldn’t find it. The broken chirps started instantly and before a wail escaped you an arm appeared hugging you close and cradling you to their chest. “Did you wake up Pumpkin?”

You instantly latched on, almost clawing at his chest and trying to get closer. “Whoa! Hey buddy, I’m not going anywhere, calm down” The voice in your head quieting with his words. You still felt disoriented by the spiked rise of the emotions so suddenly just as you woke up.

A hand came to your head, combing your dirty hair back, making you relax further, the little instincts pushed you to lean more into that soft hand, it felt right. Someone brought their wrist near your lips, an irony smell hitting you and you gladly started to drink from it, filling you with contentment.

 You felt like you were going in and out of consciousness constantly, you remember drinking from one wrist, and next thing you knew you were being carried, your head resting in their shoulder, as they tried to get up from the place where you were laying on. Leaving that place got you a bit on edge, a whimper escaping you.

Again a hand came to your head, comforting you a bit “It’s okay baby, everything is okay” You could barely recognize the voice as being Thomas, “We are just going to the bathroom for a second okay? Someone needs a bath after all”

You again lost consciousness for a second, “waking” up as someone was drying your hair, feeling lighter that you have felt in weeks. It takes you a second but you sense that you are in that nest looking thing again. The two men are near you, talking between themselves as you are nodding off, the new clothes they put on you are soft and warm, and their presence reassure you and let you feel safe in their hold.

You close your eyes as you feel someone kissing your forehead, and hear as both of them softly lull you to sleep. You fall asleep on top of Elias, and they smile at each other, with an adoring look in their eyes. They finally have a baby, and they couldn’t be more excited to show you what wonderful parents they will be for you. ------------------.* ✶  ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ✶ *.------------------

[peachdues]

TOXIC

LEVI X READER

A/N: a combination of the horny angst that’s been swirling in my head for a few days.

Listen. Do I condone what’s about to happen in this? No. Was it fun to write? Absolutely.

CW: MDNI • explicit sexual content below • toxic fucking • unprotected/raw sex • creampie • breeding kink • fucking does not solve problems • neither do babies • toxic Levi and toxic Reader tbh

This was a bad idea. Terrible; one of your worst to date.

And yet, as Levi spread you out across his kitchen counter — the counter that, until two weeks ago, had also been yours — you couldn’t for the life of you remember why every alarm bell in your head was sounding off, begging your body stiffen, to reject the man lowering himself between your thighs, his gray eyes glowing nearly silver with desire.

“Just can’t stay away, can you?” His lips are hot and silky as they slope messily across your thighs, and his fingers push aside the hem of your sundress to make way for him. “Because try as you might, you know no one will ever be able to fuck you like I can.”

Ah. That was why.

Because you and Levi had broken up. You were no more; a past concept, a memory.

In the end, your three-year relationship died not in a fiery blaze of glory, but in cold resignation. He’d sat stoically at the kitchen table as you’d confessed that you could no longer stomach being second or third or whatever place behind his true passion — work — and that it was time for you to put yourself first, for once, since he wouldn’t.

The only sign of his emotion has been his fists — clenched so tight that the skin of his knuckles had gone white.

I’m done. I have nothing left to give you, Levi. Not when you only ever take and offer nothing in return.

He’d tried to argue once you announced your intention to move out that night. He’d fought to convince you to wait until morning, to put away the small suitcase you’d packed with your most essential belongings, to sleep on it — on the decision overall. But you’d known that if you’d stayed, you would have changed your mind — would’ve let him change your mind, and he’d known that, too. So you’d held firm, turned your back on him and forced yourself to walk out of the door to your apartment, suitcase in hand.

You hadn’t intended to return, and it seemed like he’d accepted it. He’d even gone so far as to mail whatever of your belongings you hadn’t managed to pack to your parents’ address. So though you spent your nights staining your pillow with bitter tears, your heart feeling like little more than a misshapen lump of meat barely beating in your chest, you’d at least gotten what you thought you’d wanted: a clean break.

Until he’d texted you that all of your mail was still being sent to your — his — address. He’d offered to pay to have it forwarded to you, but when you saw how much that would have put you in his debt, you’d begrudgingly told him you’d stop by on your way home from work and pick it up.

Really, you knew better; should have known better, at least.

And perhaps your logic would have won over your desire, but then Levi’s fingers tug your underwear to the side and his mouth latches to your core, and all the chatter that constitutes your higher reasoning fades to an indiscernible buzz in the back of your skull. The moment you feel something hot and wet prodding your entrance, your mind whites out without the hope of coherency returning any time soon, as Levi begins to fuck you with his tongue.

With a keening cry, your legs seize around his head, trapping him between your thighs. Your hands shoot to grip his hair, desperate to find purchase; to find anything to help keep you tethered here, to reality, rather than risk floating away in clouded bliss.

But Levi is too committed to tearing down the wall you’d carefully spent the last two weeks building, brick by brick. So as his tongue pumps steadily into your core, he shifts, his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as he presses you harder against his face. His jaw works furiously and when his teeth graze against your clit, you lose whatever last vestige of control you’d clung onto.

You’re sobbing through clenched teeth but utterly helpless to stop your hips as they begin churning and grinding against his mouth. Levi hums in approval, and throw your eyelashes, you spot the way his pupils dilate, chasing away the cool silver of his irises and replacing them with something black and hungry.

“Atta girl,” he praises between his thrusts, and the vibrations of his mouth against your heated, sensitive flesh nearly makes you drool. “For once in your life, stop fuckin’ thinking.”

He swirls his tongue around you entrance one more time before he replaces it with his fingers, plunging two into your cunt and curling them. He finds that rough patch on your innermost wall with a near frustrating ease.

It’s infuriating to know that the person you know can’t give you what you really need is somehow the only person who knows exactly how to give you what you want. And, judging by the faint smirk pulling at Levi’s lips they latch around that bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs, you know he can see your resolve crumbling under his feverish mouth.

“You don’t even remember why we were arguing, do you?” He jeers between harsh sucks at your clit as you continue to writhe and cry out for more. “You just wanted to cause a scene; make me sweat a little.”

You want to fight back; you want to tell him that he’s wrong, that you’d meant it when you’d said your relationship had run its course, but he won’t give you the space to do so. Not when he presses his face firm against your center and rocks his head side to side, reducing any protestations you might have had to pitiful whimpers.

“You’ve got my attention, sweetheart. Let’s see if you know what to do with it.”

Levi slips a third finger into your core and you come undone. With his teeth grazing your clit in time with each measured thrust of his fingers into your heat, you shatter against the kitchen counter, hard enough that stars dance in the corners of your eyes.

“That’s my girl,” Levi groans as he continues to lap at your sensitive and overstimulated flesh. “You’re always so fuckin’ pretty when you cum.”

His praise, coupled with the way his mouth continues to work at your cunt prolongs the waves of your release, until your legs are trembling against the smooth granite of the countertop, and tears are gathered in your eyes. Your walls spasm weakly one final time and then it’s over, your limbs limp and your brain little more than a puddle of liquid between your ears.

Levi steps back and the heat in his eyes is unmistakable; you know, by the way his eyes turn from steel to molten ore that he wants more; wants to take and take and make you bend to him.

You shouldn’t do it; you know you shouldn’t. You know that what’s happening between you is a manifestation of everything that was toxic about your relationship. Levi, always needing to be in control, who only listened when you were at your breaking point, but could never fully give you what you needed. You, who made far too many excuses, who let him dictate the norms of your relationship because it was easy; being with him was easy, until it wasn’t.

So no, you shouldn’t give in; you should stand firm.

You reach for him anyways. “Levi,”

That’s all it takes; a pleading whimper of his name, your hands outstretched toward him, and Levi pounces. His mouth crashes against yours, and his kiss makes you feel whole even though you know he’s tearing your resolve apart.

And you let him; you let him, because you’d sworn you were going to spend your life with him. You believed, without a moment’s hesitation, that Levi was the one for you — the one you’d share the remainder of your days with, the one with whom you’d create and share a family. It was all you’d wanted, and Levi, to his credit, had assured you it was what he’d wanted, too. At least, he did; once.

And, as Levi’s hands slide under you to peel you off the counter, your legs locking around his waist with practiced ease, you know it’s what you still want; he’s what you want.

For all your desperation to have him, Levi is just as eager for you. He pivots you away from the counter, lips still moving heatedly against yours, only to drop you both to the cold tile floor, spreading you out beneath him as his lips begin trailing down your jaw, your neck. He’s too impatient to carry you to the bedroom, his hands fumbling with the buckle on his belt so he can have you then, now, on the kitchen floor.

“‘S been too long,” he pushes the straps of your sundress from your shoulders, yanking the bodice down to expose your. He groans at the sight of your bare breasts, and idly you wonder whether you made the subconscious decision to forgo your bra when you dressed that morning, in the event you’d end up here, under him.

His mouth closes around one pert nipple and you think it was the best decision you could have made; for nothing could possibly feel as right as the sensation of his hot mouth and silken tongue swirling around your soft flesh, nipping and sucking his devotion into your skin.

Your chest is heaving as his hands stroke down your body, pushing and pulling the skirt of your dress up, exposing the lower half of your body. Your legs are still little more than jelly thanks to the intensity of your previous climax, but you manage to wrap them around his hips all the same, clenching in an effort to bring him closer.

“Fuck,” he growls, and he imparts one final nip at your breast before he pulls back, his hands hurriedly shoving the waistband of his trousers and briefs down his hips, just far enough that he can pull his cock free. Your stomach flutters at the sight of him, ramrod hard, his tip already leaking with his desire.

He’s just as desperate for you as you are hopelessly in need of him.

Your eyes trace back up from where his length stands hard against his belly back to his face. A pretty pink blush has flushed his cheeks, spreading down his neck and chest, and his eyes are glassy with want.

“Levi,” you plead with a soft moan. “Baby, please —“

Baby. You hadn’t called him that often while you were together, but when you had, it was because you’d been so filled with affection — with love — that his name hadn’t been enough.

It was a slip, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by your ex. In an instant his body is covering yours, and he’s moaning into your mouth as one hand ensnares itself in your hair. Between quick kisses, you swear you hear him whisper your name against your lips, before his tongue swipes back in and steals your breath away.

He breaks your kiss to shove a hand between your bodies, gripping himself at his base and giving his length one, solid pump. You shift, spreading your thighs wider, ready to take him and feel whole once more.

He lines the tip of his cock up with your entrance and pauses. Impatiently, you buck your hips forward, trying to take him in, but he twists back just far enough that your wetness can only brush against him, a mockery of how you truly need him.

Levi ignores your howl of frustration. “If you want it, then tell me you’ll come home.”

Your teeth clench hard enough to crack, but you won’t give in; not yet, at least.

He’d been right; you wanted him to sweat a little, and damn if you weren’t going to try and bring him to his knees, if only for a bit. At least until he had you back in the palm of his hand, begging for a crumb of his attention.

So with a gritty determination that borders spite, you lock your ankles against his backside and haul him into you with all your might.

“Jesus — fuck!” His yell echoes off the gleaming stainless steel appliances as you force him fully inside you, unwilling to let him win this battle so soon. He falls forward, an arm flinging out beside your head to catch himself.

Your boldness pays off, for Levi is forced remain still, panting hard and his eyes screwed shut as he adjusts to the sensation of being fully buried in your warmth after so long. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the way the muscles in the arm needed by your head ripples under the force of his restraint. Slowly, his eyes open and the darkness in them makes you pulse and contract around his length, your stomach fluttering in anticipation.

Your mouth falls into a perfect “o” as he begins to move once more. He sits back on his knees, back straight, and his hands come to rest on your hips. He tugs you up just enough that your backside rests against the tops of his thighs, your back forced into an arch away from the floor. His gaze drops to where you’re connected, your base pressed flush against his, and the sight of himself embedded so deeply inside you makes the fingers on your hips tighten.

Slowly, and with careful precision, he withdraws his cock from your heat until only his tip remains lodged in your entrance. His eyes flick to yours and then he slams back into you, forcing your breath from your lungs. He repeats the movement again and again, until your lower lip is wobbling and your fingers are sinking into the corded muscles of his forearms, unable to do anything but cling on as he hammers into you.

The stillness of the kitchen is soon disrupted by the telltale sounds of skin slapping against skin, punctuated by your breathy moans and Levi’s pants. Between the sharpness of his hips and the cold tile of the kitchen floor, you know you’re likely to walk away from this with bruises, but you can’t find it within yourself to care. Especially not when Levi is moving like this, each of his thrusts as punishing as they are calculated.

“What’d I say, huh? No one can fuck you like I can.”

Levi more often than not was a soft lover. Kind; generous; prone to taking his time with you, so much so that it was nearly painful, usually leaving you in a tearful puddle on your mattress, begging him for more.

But now, he’s trying to remind you of what you’re leaving behind by leaving him; he’s punishing you as much as he’s begging you to stay.

The thought makes you moan out, wanton and desperate, and the walls of your cunt clench harder around him.

His hips snap harshly against yours, choking off the sound in your throat. “So come back home,” and though you know he means for it to sound like an order, his eyes betray his urgency, his desperation to confirm that you hadn’t really meant it; that you’d given up on him in a moment of stress and exhaustion. “Quit being a brat and come home.”

You want to tell him you can’t — that the door had closed on your relationship the moment you’d pulled it shut behind you that day, but try as you might, the words will not form. All that spills from your mouth are broken utterances of his name, and even those flatten out into pathetic whines as Levi’s callused thumb finds your clit and begins to work, determined to haul you to the edge of your sanity and shove you over.

Your legs spasm around his waist as you begin your ascent to that sacred precipice. Your eyes are rolled back, your head thrashing from side to side as the pleasure, white hot and searing, mounts within you, that coil in your belly winding tight with every impassioned movement of his body against yours.

Distantly, you feel his hold on your hips tighten, and you can feel his thrusts growing sloppy. You know it’s only a matter of time before one of you succumbs to your release.

He growls your name, the last syllable tapering off in a small whine. “T-tell me — fuck — tell me where.”

Your eyes fly open and meet his, sobering awareness washing over you like a tidal wave.

Only once in the entire course of your relationship, did Levi ask where he was allowed to cum: the beginning. He’d asked the very first time you’d slept with him, legs in the air and over his shoulders, and once you’d made it clear you were on birth control, that had been the end of the discussion. You’d known that if you’d changed your mind, all you’d needed to do was tell him, and he’d adjust. Truthfully, however, you’d not minded the possibility of your birth control failing; you’d been content to let whatever happen, happen.

You’d told him as much, and he’d told you he shared the sentiment.

But that was then; this time, he’s giving you an out. A way to make sure this remains a one-time thing, a moment of weakness between two people too lost and broken to want anything different.

Levi’s eyes widen as the silence stretches between you, and his hips slow until he stops moving all together. The friction mounting where you’re connected is nearly unbearable, and you know the only way to relieve it is to give him an answer — whatever it may be.

This was it; the decision that will make or break you both. For once, he’s out the ball entirely in your court, and whatever comes after this moment of bliss — or frality — ends depends entirely upon you.

“Inside,” you barely manage to squeak, eyes wide and locked unwaveringly with his.

Even Levi hesitates. “Y/N —“

“Inside,” you repeat with slightly more conviction. “Cum inside me, Levi.”

“Your pill?” His hips have already resumed their pace, and you can feel how he’s grown harder at your insistence. But though his body is already moving in accord with your demand, his eyes look ready to bulge out of his skull when you manage the smallest shake your head.

“Inside.” You beg again, and you dig your heel harder into the steely muscle of his backside, limiting how far he’s able to pull his hips back; to pull out at all.

Because damn if he isn’t the only person in the world with whom you could fathom facing the consequences of fucking raw without even the safety net of the tiny blue pills still sitting at your pharmacy, waiting.

“Fuck,” he growls through clenched teeth, a tendon in his neck throbbing. “Fuck, you want me to give you a baby? So fuckin’ be it. As long as you’ll stay.”

He shifts over you, planting one foot on the ground so he can use his thigh to pin one of your legs back and to the side. His hand shoves under your other thigh, mimicking the position of your other leg as he mounts you, his full weight pressing you harder into the floor and keeping you spread wide for him.

Gone was the calculated precision of his earlier thrusts; now, Levi only presses his groin firmly against yours as he begins to rut, each rock of his hips pushing his length impossibly deeper into your slick warmth.

A cracked moan of his name signals that the blunt tip of his cock has brushed up against that spot within you that Levi knows will have you coming apart in minutes. And so, with a feral gleam sparking to life in his eyes, he shifts himself to press the head of his cock firmly against it, his hips rolling hard enough into you that you begin moving in time with him, your hips lifting up from the floor only to be pushed back by him as he works.

His balls are heavy against the underside of your ass as he continues to rut into you. You know he’s close when you feel him begin to twitch inside you, and the anticipation of being filled by him — so hot and sweet — makes the walls of your cunt clench harder around him.

If you thought you were a mess before, the way Levi mounts you on the floor has you nearly screaming with pleasure, so electric and blinding that all sights of the kitchen fade to white, and your eyes flutter shut.

But Levi won’t allow you to check out; not now, not ever.

“Look at me.” His free hand grabs your jaw in an attempt to force you to meet his eyes. You want to give him what he wants, but it’s far too difficult, what with the way yours are glued to the back of your skull, a thin line of drool leaking from the corner of your mouth.

“L-Levi,” you try and plead, to explain. But he has always demanded more of you than you knew how to give.

“Look at me.” His fingers squeeze your cheeks, insistent. “If you want my baby, then you’re gonna look at me while you cum.”

He’s doing it to prove a point — to prove that he still has control over you, over whatever it is that remains between you. And you, helpless against the whims of your heart, let him have it, because you love him.

Fuck. You love him.

You force your eyelids open to meet his punishing stare, and then his lips are crashing down against yours in a fiery clash of lips and teeth as both of you fight to consume the other. But you lose first, breaking your kiss to cry out as your climax slams into you with the force of a freight train, knocking your breath clean from your lungs.

It’s powerful; the most powerful orgasm you’ve had in memory, one that sends your back arching sharply up from the cool kitchen tile below, and pulls a howl of Levi’s name from your mouth.

You’re still straddled among the clouds of your pleasure when Levi succumbs to his own. His body tenses for a moment and then he’s coming undone, his hips giving one last, mighty push before he explodes.

He cums with a strangled groan that he silences by searing his mouth against your neck, his teeth sinking into your skin as he pulses within you.

You don’t try to stop the pleasured grin that forms on your mouth, nor the contented hums which vibrate in your chest as you hold him close to you, savoring the feeling of being warm and full of him.

You know you might regret the decision later; but there, spread out across his — your — kitchen floor, Levi’s full weight bearing down upon you as he continues to flood you with his release, you can’t help but feel that maybe this wasn’t the toxic choice at all. Perhaps this is simply a manifestation of everything that is good in your life.

Good. That’s what you decide to tell yourself as you feel Levi’s lips press sleepily against your neck. This is good; this is right.

Because this — he — is your home.

[daisyblog]

You, Me and Baby

Young Love Masterlist Summary: Louis and YN discover they’re going to have a baby, but YN’s parents are far from pleased.

warning: highly sensitive topics, positive pregnancy test, pregnancy, mentions of abortion, emotional abuse, swearing, arguing, shouting

The bright shining sun teased her through the window as she waited patiently for the time to be up. YN’s heart thumped against her chest, as her eyes stared at the plastic stick sat on her bedside table.

Her period was 7 days late, and as much as she blamed hormones, stress and “it’ll come tomorrow”, YN knew she needed to take a pregnancy test just to rule out one of the main reasons her period still hadn’t made an appearance.

YN felt her chest take a deep breath as she prepared herself to turn over the test, the weight felt heavy on her shoulders. She debated if she should have told Louis but after arguing with herself, she decided she to do it by herself.

The shaky fingers reached for the white plastic that determined her future. She closed her eyes as she turned it over. Waiting for her breath to calm, she opened her eyes with force and there sat the answer.

Two pink lines.

YN feels her chest tighten as her heart beats against hit with a thud. Of course she had considered the possibility of her being pregnant but part of her believed her period was just late.

She wasn’t sure how long she had been staring at the two lines, her phone had been pinging next to her. She knew it was Louis and her friends. They had planned to hang out that afternoon. Knowing they were probably waiting for her, she placed the test and box in her bedroom bin and decided she would hide it later on before her parents got home.

---

YN tried to put a smile on her face throughout the afternoon as they all went to grab some lunch, before heading over to Ella’s house. But Louis knew YN better than she realised, he noticed how much quieter she was. He saw when she pushed the food around her plate, hardly eating anything. He knew she was faking her smile as she chatted to Ella and Hannah from across the table. Louis quickly made up an excuse that he needed to go home and help with his sisters, YN giving him a grateful smile knowing it was her way out of the gathering too,

Trying to find a quiet moment to tell Louis, was very hard to come by in the Tomlinson house. YN loved spending time at Louis, the chaos and the love was enough to warm her heart. She loved that although Louis was seventeen, he would still play the childish games with his sisters and watching as he helped Phoebe and Daisy with their building blocks, she couldn’t help but think that the baby she was currently carrying inside her may be luckiest little one to have such a loving father.

YN tried to pluck up the courage, knowing she had to tell Louis soon because she could feel it threaten to spill at any moment. “Lou…can we-“.

“Louis..YN…come and have a look at our dance show!”. Lottie ran into the lounge, interrupting the teenagers. But how could they say no.

Time was nearing where YN had to leave to go back home. She still hadn’t got the chance to tell Louis but the longer it was going on, the harder it was to start the conversation.

The sound of knocking could be heard from the living area but neither thought anything of it as Jay went to answer it.

“Where is he? Did you know about this?”. The sound of her father’s voice bellowing caught YN’s ears.

Without thought Louis and YN went into the hallway to see what the shouting was about. “Carl…if you’ll calm down…whatever is going on we can talk about this”. Jay’s motherly voice was a comfort to YN when she could see the anger covering her father’s face.

“Me calm down? I’m not fucking calming down! Do you know how angry me and Emma are right now? I’ll tell you how angry…fucking furious!”. Carl’s voice and anger continued to escalate.

YN stood slightly behind Louis, embarrassed at the show her father was putting on right now. “Dad! Please!”. She gulped down the nerves, knowing how silly she had been leaving the pregnancy test in clear view.

His angry eyes snapped to see YN and Louis stood there. “You!” He pointed at Louis, trying to take a step forward only for Jay to place her arm to stop him. “You…you’ve ruined our lives! You-”. Louis protectively stood in front of YN, have stood behind him, their hands still secured in each others.

Jay had been calm since the moment Carl had began shouting but when it came to her children, she would not tolerate it. “Excuse me! You don’t talk to anyone like that…especially my son! That’s my son you’re talking to and I will not have it!”.

Carl let out a sarcastic breath with a fake chuckle. “Well I hate to break it to you darling but your precious little son has got my daughter pregnant!”.

YN could feel Louis tense as her father revealed what she had been hiding. She knew this was the moment that she was left just her and the little baby they had created. She could feel the tears burn her eyes, her heart thumped deep in her body.

“I’m sorry”. YN whispered for Louis to hear as she rested her head against his tense back. He remained still in his spot, silent as the words sunk in but his fingers rubbing her hand was the tiny bit of reassurance she needed in that moment.

“You are a vile and disgusting man!”. Jay spoke up, breaking the silence that surrounded the four of them. “You come to my house…shout, swear and scream when I have four young children sleeping upstairs…you threaten my son and humiliate your own daughter…you should be ashamed of yourself!”.

Louis and YN still stood in the exact same spot, watching the scene in front of them unfold. YN had been hurt by her parents for as long as she could remember but the next few words her father spoke stung.

“I’m ashamed that she is my daughter and got knocked up at seventeen…she’s humiliated us!”. His voice was full of hatred and the look of disgust on his face said a million words. “You get rid of that baby or you’re out on the streets!”.

“Get out of my house now before I call the police!”. Jay’s motherly instincts when into overdrive. “You don’t deserve a daughter like YN…and don’t come near my son and YN again!”. Jay slammed the front door shut, before turning to look at Louis and YN. “Cup of tea anyone?”.

---

With cups of tea in each of their hands, the three of them sat in the lounge area. YN couldn’t think properly at the moment. From finding out she was pregnant this morning, to not having a home anymore was a lot to process.

“I’m really sorry you had to find out that way”. YN didn’t look up from her hands that held the beige mug. “I’ve tried to find a way all day to tell you”.

“You don’t have to be sorry babe, I’m just shocked…I wasn’t expecting it”. Louis gently spoke from next to her. Jay listened from her seat, feeling so proud at how mature her son was being and it was in that moment that she knew she had raised him well. “We’re in this together, yeah?”.

YN couldn’t find the words but a small nodded was all she could manage as she looked up at Louis.

“YN?”. Her eyes followed Jay’s voice. “You have a home here and I’m with you both every step of the way…you’re part of this family!”.

Taglist:

@ell0ra-br3kk3r @slaymybreathaway @wh0s-nadii

[steddieas-shegoes]

From @plasticcrotches. Thank you!

➿➰➿➰➿➰➿➰➿➰➿➰

It shouldn’t have mattered. It shouldn’t have affected him like this.

But the lights going out unexpectedly after flickering for nearly a full minute sent him into a dark spiral.

He could vaguely hear the kids talking, probably coming up with a plan to get out.

Robin’s safe, at least. She’s with her parents out of state. She’ll never have to go through this again if Steve can help it.

He should listen to the plan, figure out how he can use his body to protect the kids, get them all out of here.

“Steve?”

Steve turned to see Eddie frowning at him, coming closer.

“We’ve gotta get you out of here,” Steve stood, looking around for a weapon, any weapon.

It was too dark.

“Stevie, it’s okay.” Eddie’s hand gripped his arm, warm when everything else felt so cold. “Just sit down. Lucas and Dustin already went to check.”

“Alone?!” Steve tried to pull away, but Eddie’s grip tightened.

“They’re alright. We’re safe.”

“No we aren’t! What if something’s out there?” Steve finally pulled his arm loose, looking back at Eddie. His eyes were adjusting in the dark and he could see the concern on his face.

“Steve, where do you think you are?” Eddie asked, stepping in closer, hand gently cupping his cheek.

Steve looked around. It was difficult to see much, but he could see the shapes of the kids sprawled across a couch. His couch. In his living room.

His body relaxed slightly as he recognized more of his house around him. Not the Upside Down version, the real one.

“Sorry,” he said as Eddie leaned in closer, his forehead almost touching Steve’s.

“Why are you sorry?”

Eddie’s breath was warm against his face, sending a shiver down Steve’s back.

“Feel stupid. Thought we were back there for a minute,” Steve whispered. He didn’t want the kids overhearing. They had enough to worry about.

“Does that happen a lot?”

“No,” Steve could only think of one other time and Robin had been there to bring him back. “I’m okay. I should go check on Lucas and Dustin. They’ll probably break something.”

“Wait,” Eddie’s other hand gripped Steve’s hip. “We’re okay, Stevie. I’m safe because you got me safe. You protected me then and I know you would if you had to again. You know that, right?”

Steve felt his heart stop momentarily in his chest. Eddie usually kept a distance between them, maybe scared to get close to Steve after everything. Steve had sat by his side in the hospital every day until he woke up and Wayne could be brought in to see him.

But since then, they’d become friends. Just…they didn’t get physically close. Steve didn’t know why.

He wanted to touch Eddie, wanted to lean his head on his shoulder during movies or rub his back when he decided to stand in the kitchen and watch the kids take over Hellfire.

He wanted to play with his hair and kiss him.

He wanted.

But he couldn’t.

“I wish I could’ve protected you better,” Steve admitted, voice breaking. “I should’ve been with you.”

“You can’t be in two places at once. I did a stupid, unpredictable thing. It’s not your fault.”

“But I could’ve stopped you,” Steve argued.

He could see the kids leaving the room out of the corner of his eye, probably going to check on what Dustin and Lucas were doing.

“I wouldn’t have let you,” Eddie argued back. “I can be just as stubborn as you.”

Eddie was still touching his hip and his face.

His eyes were wide as he searched Steve’s.

“It’s over, right?” Steve asked.

“It’s over,” Eddie reassured.

“We’re safe.”

“We are safe.”

Steve should do it, he should kiss him. They’re alone and Eddie’s giving signals that he’s never given before. Or maybe he has and Steve just didn’t realize it.

Actually, he definitely has.

Steve leaned in the few inches he needed to brush his lips against Eddie’s.

He expected Eddie to pull away quickly, to stop touching him.

Instead, he let his hand drift to the back of Steve’s head and pull him in closer, nipping at his bottom lip playfully before kissing him harder.

Steve let out an embarrassing noise as he reached up to grip Eddie’s hips, stabilizing himself as Eddie groaned into his mouth.

“It’s not dark enough for us to not see you, ya know,” Mike snarked from the doorway.

Steve pulled away, ready to come up with an excuse, but Eddie wrapped his arm around him and pulled him into his side.

“Shut up, Mike. You can handle two people kissing.”

“Not when it’s you two.”

“Oh, are you homophobic?” Eddie smirked, already knowing that wasn’t the problem.

“No! You know I’m not!” Mike was flustered now, clearly looking for a reason to leave. “Just- just go somewhere else!”

Steve rolled his eyes. “This is my house, dude.”

The lights came back on and Steve fully relaxed against Eddie.

Eddie must’ve noticed, kissing the top of his head before all the kids rushed back into the room.

No one else seemed to notice the position they were in, but that was fine.

Steve didn’t wanna hide, and it seemed like Eddie didn’t either. If the kids did notice, they’d be fine.

As long as Eddie was there, he’d be fine.

[iamlostsomewhereinthegarden]

Obey Me Brothers and when you feeling their sin turns them on

So as a community we’ve mostly assumed that the brothers can feel when we use or feel their sin so what about times when they get turned on when feeling you feel their sin their certain times

Btw this was written so fast it’s not even funny, it just took me a lot of time to edit and post to tumblr because I wrote this all in one day in one session

TW: GN!Reader, Nsfw not actually in there but is heavily implied and meantioned(I mean look at the title dude)

Lucifer

Lucifer gets harder when he sees and feels how prideful you are when you bottom out on dick, and gets hard when he knows you’re doing indecent stuff with his brothers and feel pride. The thought of you feeling his sin while doing something so sinful turns him on so quick

Mammon

Mammon, when he has to go somewhere with someone or for something but you don’t want him to go because he’s yours and you want him, want him now, want him under you in your arms because you’re greedy and right now you don’t want to share your first man. That gets Mammon rock fucking hard and when you are just being greedy without meaning to fuck him well he ignores that raging hard-on for more time with you. Hey, he can be greedy too~

Leviathan

Levi (Funnily enough this was just going to be a Levi thing because he’s my fave and I started off thinking/daydreaming about this idea with him but there’s potential with all the brothers), when you feel envious of whoever is with him. He feels you being envious of something or someone and turns around to look at what you’re jealous of only to see that you’re already looking in his direction, he freaks out wondering what he did only to realize the focus isn’t on him but on the person that’s with him right now instead of you and that immediately makes his cock rock hard. You mean you want to be with this smelly loser otaku and that you’re jealous of the person whose with him right now hoooooooly fuck. Also when you see his body and the rock hard abs he has despite gaming 24/7 and not doing anything compared to your body that even if you tried to reach his figure the slightest thing done wrong or not managed properly will ruin that figure gets him so fucking hard because you want his body? Holy shit you want to be like him, you want him, you’re jealous of him, well come on MC there’s something else on his body you should look at, won’t you come and see?

Satan

Satan similar to Levi gets turned on when you’re pissed at someone for being with him, or bothering him when you have his attention. You feel this for him? You’re pissed that you can’t have him all for yourself? Don’t worry you can spend all the time you want with him in his room, and while you guys are there why don’t you take care of the boner you gave him with your cute little anger. Gets hard when arguing with you, the wrath and anger you are sending in his direction is absolutely fucking delicious, he just fuck it out of you to make you pliant and calm to his whims. Satan also gets hard when you’re pissed at him for not giving you attention, well, if it’s attention you want then it’s attention you have hun! Don’t worry you’ll get love soon.

Asmodeous

Asmo is always horny and he definitely gets hard or harder when feeling your lust, you want to fuck don’t you? You want loving, don't you? Don’t worry if someone is not providing it for you he’s there to help you with it, and even if you are being assisted you’ll still find him there lurking and ready to pounce once he gets the chance to. As the avatar of lust he feels it the most and makes it his duty for it to all be okay~

Beelzebub

Beelzebub’s is when you’re already fucked out but you want more, you want more of whatever they can give you whether it’s in a sex scenario or a regular scenario, seeing you want more and more and more gets him going, you’re just like him right now, hungering for more and more even if you might not be able to take it and seeing as he’s a big boy that thought gets his dick really hard. Good luck with whatever hole you’re dealing with, or Beel’s dealing with.

Belphie

Belphie is when you’re so tired but so determined to do what you want when fucking, it’s cute to him that you’re fighting sleep because you’re so determined and so want to fuck, awwww such a little minx you are. Also loves when you’re tired and wants to fuck but has him do the work for once in his life, ofc he’ll do the week for his sleepy darling. He especially gets hard though when you’re asleep and you have wet dreams or just become incredibly horny in your sleep, because he feels that lust mixing in with your sleepy tiredness. The things you do to this sleepy boy makes him not so sleepy anymore you know~

Taglist: @kisakis-boyfriend

[midnighthazee]

Greenridge ABO Series

a/n: back to spoil your filthy little minds since y'all have been so patient and loving the story! thank you my little Greenies! 💚💚💚 also this is my first mxm so don't judge me too harshly😢

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Warnings: little angsty?, explicit language, fear, pet names, FLUFF, SMUT, male x male, 18+, MDNI, oral, anal, cum eating, creampie, hint of degrading, overstim, sub!jeongin, dom/sub dynamics, cockwarming

WC: 4961

Chapter 6

Cooking was your newfound interest. You had enjoyed making brownies so much that you lingered in the kitchen when dinner got started. Minho was in his element, moving across the kitchen with such grace. You watched in awe.

“Bite your lip any harder and it’s going to bleed.” Minho said, not looking up from the pot he stood in front of.

You quickly released your lip, blushing and looking down.

“Want to help me?”

You nod eagerly.

“Come over here.” Minho gestured. “Can you handle a knife?”

“Yes.” you say, giving him a look.

He chuckled and it made you smile.

He told you to mince the parsley, basil, and garlic, demonstrating first. You did as he showed you and soon you were done, adding it to his pot of sauce. Seungmin was handling the meat as you assisted Minho, Felix resting on the couch for once.

“Yah! Get off the couch and cook dinner.” Changbin called to Felix.

“I made dessert.” Felix groaned.

Changbin came over to the couch and scooped Felix up, flipping him over his shoulder and smacking his butt.

“Put me down.” Felix complained.

Jisung hurried over and patted Felix’s backside like he was playing the drums. Felix kicked his legs but Jisung blocked each one. 

“Put me down.” Felix pleaded as he poked Changbin in the sides. 

Changbin squirmed, ticklish and finally put him down.

Felix glared at Changbin as he tried to regain his footing. The blood had rushed to his head and was now receding. Changbin took advantage of the moment and snuck a kiss from the younger’s mouth. Felix playfully pushed him away, only for Changbin to pull him closer. They kissed for a bit as Jisung went back to watching tv. 

You watched in awe at the cute moment. Maybe one day you would have the same moment with one of them. It could be any of them, you didn’t care.

“It’s not polite to stare.” Minho whispered in your ear.

You shivered as his breath hit your neck and you looked away from the living room. 

“I wasn’t staring,” you argue, moving to sit on the barstool across from him.

“No?” Minho smirked. 

“Are any of you soulmates with each other?” You asked, changing the subject. 

Minho stopped what he was doing, and looked up at you. “Look who’s asking questions now.”

“I should get to know you, right? If I’m going to be staying here, that is.” you shrug.

“Fair point.” Minho studied you after texting on his phone.

“So…?”

“Yes.” Minho smirked.

“That’s all I get? Who’s all soulmates?”

“Why? Got your eye on someone?” Minho smirked.

You blushed. You had your eye on everyone but was not about to tell him that. “Maybe.”

“Good to know.”

“Minho…tell me who.” you demanded.

There was no denying the flutter he felt his heart make when you said his name. He stared at you, wanting to hear you say it over and over. Hear you chanting and moaning it. He looked deeply into your eyes, ready to pounce. Why did his name sound so good coming from your mouth?

“Hey, everyone.” Chan said, coming into the kitchen casually. 

Minho composed himself, resuming his cooking as you jumped at Chan’s voice. Little did you know, he texted Chan to come down here.

“Sorry.” He smiled sheepishly at you.

“It’s okay. One day I won’t be so jumpy.” you muttered.

“One day.” Chan smiled. 

“Y/n was just wondering about our pack.” Minho said. “Apparently she has a thing for one of us and wants to know who’s taken.”

“That’s not what I said.” 

Minho just giggled. That little devil.

“My money is on Felix.” Minho continued.

Your eyes went wide, wondering where he was getting this idea from. 

“What did you say?” Chan asked, ignoring Minho.

“I asked who in the pack were soulmates.” You clarify.

“Oh, umm…come with me.” Chan said, heading into the living room.

You were nervous now. It wasn’t that serious of a question, was it?

He turned off the tv that Changbin, Jisung, and Felix were watching, sitting on the coffee table and ushering you to sit on the couch with everyone. Seungmin came in from the kitchen too, sitting next to Changbin, who rested his hand on Seungmin’s thigh.

“All of us in this house are mated to each other.” Chan began.

“Really?” you asked, although not surprised since they were all so touchy with each other.

“We found a way to balance it so everyone feels loved and cherished. And we are willing to do the same with you. We want to.” Chan smiled.

“So no one has a soulmate?”

“Well… we all do..” Chan looked over to the boys on the couch briefly. “It’s you.”

“Me?!” You looked over at all them, their eyes twinkling as they looked at you. “A-all of you?”

Chan nodded. “I know this is a lot to take in.”

“But…Lewis said he was my soulmate.”

“I’m sure Lewis said a lot of things.” Jisung mumbled, earning a glare from Chan.

“Do you feel the pull to us?” Chan asked.

“That’s what it is?”

“Yes.” Chan chuckled.

“What did you think it was?” Felix asked.

“That you all were more attractive than the Nykos.” You looked down to your lap, not adding the part about wanting to jump their bones.

They all smiled, blushing.

“I’m sure we are.” Minho said from the kitchen. Of course he’s eavesdropping.

“Did you feel the pull to Lewis?” 

“No. No one in the pack.”

“Then he lied. Both sides feel the pull.”

Your eyes went wide. “B-but he marked me!” 

“I know.” Chan’s jaw clenched. “He shouldn’t have since he’s not your soulmate. But that’s for another time.”

“It’s rare for an Omega to have more than one soulmate so you’re our special little omega.” Seungmin noted with a smile.

“I’m sure this is a lot to process. But this is why you belong here… why we will never let them take you back. You’re ours now and we are yours. We will wait as long as we have to until you’re comfortable with us.”

You twiddle your fingers in your lap, this definitely explains a lot. Why you felt yourself relax around them, why you had all these thoughts about them, why they made your heart flutter. You knew the basics of the soulmate bond, enough to know that as long as you were with them, you would be safe.

“Thank you.” you whispered.

“For what?” Chan asked.

“Finding me…saving me.” your voice began to shake as a tear fell down your cheek, overwhelmed by the feelings of safety, hope, and love around you. The boys smiled, their hearts warm.

“You’re welcome.” Chan smiled.

Felix sat up, only to freeze. “Can I-can I give you a hug?”

You look up at him and he slowly opens his arms. A small smile tugs on your lips as you nod. Felix practically jumps from his spot as he scoots closer to you and wraps his arms around you. He was so warm and you found yourself melting into him.

“Can we all hug you?” Changbin asked with a pout.

You giggle but nod and soon, all five of them have their arms around you in a massive group hug. They had to be emitting some pheromones right now because you’ve never felt so loved. It was overwhelming, making you sob happily in their embrace. You didn’t want them to let go, despite squeezing you and making it hard to breathe. You had never been so warm and cozy, begging for this moment to last forever.

“Okay…I can’t breathe.” you finally manage to say.

All of them but Jisung immediately release you.

“Ji…” Felix says.

“Not yet.” he whines, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Jisung… come on, let her have her space.” Chan says.

Jisung reluctantly lets go, smiling at you.

“If you ever have any more questions, you can ask any of us.” Chan smiles.

“Seungmin.” Minho calls from the kitchen. 

Seungmin is quick to go back and finish helping.

You nod to Chan, then also return to the kitchen.

Minho turns to you with a serious face and you freeze.

“Where’s my hug?” he asks with a tilt of his head.

Blushing, you shrug, suddenly nervous under his gaze. He seems to enjoy it so he steps closer and you tense. 

“Y/n….” he taunts.

Your heart flutters as his seductive tone.

“Can I please have a hug?” he asks.

You nod and he holds out his arm, making you come to him. You step closer, inches apart. He doesn’t move his arms. Rolling your eyes, you know that he wants you to initiate it. Slowly, you bring your arms up and cautiously wrap them around his waist. It was new and made you slightly uneasy. Only when your arms are wrapped around his waist does he encase you in his arms, pulling you to his chest. He smelled so good, the crisp earthy smell filling your senses. You swear you heard him sniff your hair but you didn’t say anything.

“I like your hair like this, kitten.” he said, running his fingers through the waves.

You pull away, clearing your throat and giving an awkward smile at him as your heart beats faster.

“You’re cute.” He says booping your nose before resuming his cooking. “Want to stir the sauce?”

You move over and stir the sauce next to him. Seungmin was pulling the meatballs from the oven and putting them in a bowl. Then he placed foil on them and put them on the dining table. Jisung had set the table quickly so he could get back to his show with Felix and Changbin. Minho drained the pasta and mixed it with the sauce you two made, putting it on the table too. 

He then called for everyone to come eat dinner. It was delicious and you were proud that you got to help make it. There were multiple conversations going on as everyone else enjoyed their meal. You were still pretty quiet though, choosing to just listen to the conversations as you ate.

After dinner, Chan packed up a big serving to take to Jeongin. Hyunjin had been there all day with him, helping him through his rut. At first Jeongin had told him to leave, that he didn’t want help, but Hyunjin ignored him and seduced him anyways. It didn’t take many touches before Jeongin caved and gave into his urges. He fucked Hyunjin throughout the day, the poor beta barely getting any rest in between rounds.

Chan grabbed a bag of supplies and the dinner before heading out to the rut house. You said goodbye, feeling a little sad that he was leaving. But he assured you he would be back tomorrow. Then he made his way there, the smell of Jeongin and Hyunjin getting stronger and stronger.

When he arrived, he found them both naked and sleeping on the rug in the living room. Jeongin’s smell  was triggering as he stepped inside and took in the room. The wooden bench on the side had a broken leg and was knocked over. There were fresh claw marks on the floor and wall, books knocked off the shelves, and even a blood spot on the rug. What the hell happened?

Chan moved towards Hyunjin, shaking him gently as he took in all the marks on his body. Hyunjin didn’t budge - he was knocked out. Sighing, Chan put his stuff down in the kitchen and went over to Jeongin. He shook him, making him groan and roll over. He shook his head, deciding to let them both sleep longer.

Hyunjin was the first to wake - only thirty minutes later - to the smell of food. His stomach growled and he sat up, wincing at the soreness that spread over his whole body.

“Hey.” Chan spoke.

Hyunjin whipped his head to where Chan was sitting on the couch.

“You made a hole in the couch.” Chan noted, pulling at the open seam on the cushion.

“Sorry. Blame the animal.” Hyunjin pointed at Jeongin.

“Seems like you two have been busy.”

“He’s been feral… like it’s bad. I’m so sore. He’s never been like this. Usually we are pretty equal but he just dommed the hell out of me.” Hyunjin stood slowly.

“You say that like you didn’t enjoy it…” Chan quirked an eyebrow up.

“Shut up.” He says with a smile.

“Go get some dinner at the house. And then take a shower and rest.” 

“Okay. It smells amazing.”

“Changbin saved you a plate. I’ll text him to warm it now.”

“Thanks. See you tomorrow.” 

Hyunjin threw on some clothes for the first time all day and headed to the house. He was aching but moved quickly so he could get home to eat.

Chan watched anime on his laptop while he waited for Jeongin to wake. It was nearly two hours before he did, Chan having fallen asleep on the couch watching. Jeongin looked around, noticing him resting and smiled. Then he followed the smell of food and went over to eat his dinner. Chan heard him fidgeting with the drawer of forks and woke up.

“Hey Innie.” Chan yawned, pausing his show and closing his laptop.

“Hey.” Jeongin took a bite of food, moaning at the flavor.

“Y/n helped Minho with the sauce.” Chan sat down across the bistro table.

“Really?”

“Yeah. And we told her about the soulmate bond. She started asking…otherwise I would have waited till you were back.”

“It’s okay.” Jeongin stuffed his cheeks with pasta, ravenous from the afternoon’s activities.

“I see you two had fun…” Chan looks around the room.

“Yeah… Do you think because she made it come early that’s why it’s so bad this time?”

“Bad?”

“I feel like it’s not going to be over for a while. And I feel so out of control.”

“She could be a possibility.” Chan thought it over.

“Why am I the only one?”

“Probably because you’re still a new alpha. Omegas have a massive effect on us. So since you’re in this like… vulnerable transition time, it’s hitting you. That’s my best guess.”

Jeongin groaned, eating a few more bites. Then he paused, twirling his fork.

“Does she hate me?” he asked.

“No. She doesn’t hate you. She was surprisingly understanding.”

Jeongin looked to Chan with hopeful eyes. “Really?”

“Yes. She’s resilient, despite everything she’s been through. I think she wants to let her guard down, she just doesn’t know how yet.”

Chan went back to the couch, restarting his anime episode on the tv now as Jeongin finished his dinner. He looked over and admired Chan for a bit before putting his dishes in the sink and joining him. He laid his head on Chan’s lap, still so tired from the day. Chan rubbed his back as they watched the anime together, eventually falling asleep once more.

Jeongin stirred, groaning as he felt his body fill with desire. He could smell Chan next to him and it was making his dick twitch. He sat up, stretching. He looked over and moved to straddle Chan, curling into his neck. Instinctively, Chan’s arm wrapped around his body and pulled him close. Jeongin leans up, kissing Chan’s neck as his hands roam Chan’s body.

He grinds down on Chan’s lap as he kisses, leaving a love bite on his shoulder. Then he slides down off Chan’s lap, kneeling in between his legs and pulling down his pants. Chan begins to wake, looking down at the young alpha on his knees. He groans at the sight, dick twitching. Jeongin reaches forward, taking Chan’s semi-hard cock in his hand and stroking slowly. Chan bites his lip as he watches Jeongin take him into his mouth. 

Jeongin groans around its thickness as it hits the back of his throat. Chan’s instinctively bucks into his mouth, his cock now fully erect. Jeongin begins to bob his head, his hand stroking what doesn’t fit in his mouth. Chan’s hand comes down to rest in Jeongin’s hair as he throws his head back.

Jeongin continues to suck, his hand alternating between stroking Chan and groping his balls. Moans begin to fall from Chan’s parted lips as Jeongin sucks hard, bobbing his head faster. Instinctively, Chan’s hips began to thrust slightly up as he Jeongin’s tongue danced around his length. Chan pushes his head down lower, forcing more into the young alpha’s mouth. Jeongin began to gag, but Chan held him in place for a few seconds. 

When he finally released his head, Jeongin popped off the tip, catching his breath. He licked up the length of Chan and teased his slit as Chan squeezed his eyes shut.

“Fuck.” Chan groaned, bucking once more.

Jeongin stroked his cock, licking up Chan’s abs before sucking on his nipple, his free hand teasing the other. Chan moaned, feeling too good but he needed more. Chan gripped Jeongin’s waist as he lifted him and placed him on his back on the couch. He leaned forward and kissed the youngest on his lips. Lost in the kiss, Jeongin didn’t notice when Chan reached his hand between them and stroked his cock with a firm grip.

Jeongin gasped, bucking into Chan’s hand. Chan smirked as he began to stroke Jeongin’s cock and saw him throw his head back.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Chan whispered.

Jeongin moaned in response.

Chan picked up the pace, squeezing tighter as he teased the tip. He leaned down, taking Jeongin in his mouth, earning a whine. He sucked hard and licked up the veiny length of his cock. Jeongin bucked into his mouth so Chan pinned his hips down. 

Jeongin groaned, gripping the sheets as Chan’s warm mouth engulfed his entire length. He wanted to thrust into his throat but Chan wasn’t having it. After spending all day with his cock buried inside Hyunjin’s ass, he now found himself slipping into subspace.

Chan teased Jeongin’s tip with his tongue, circling it and licking his slit. Jeongin squirmed and whined underneath Chan.

“I want you to cum before I fuck your ass.” Chan said as he stroked Jeongin’s cock.

He watched as Jeongin’s pelvic muscles contracted and relaxed - he was close already. Wrapping his lips around Jeongin once more, Chan sucked and teased his cock, hands trailing up Jeongin’s torso to pinch his nipples. Jeongin bucked as he pinched, groaning as he hit the back of Chan’s throat. 

The strangled moans and whines coming from Jeongin’s mouth signaled he was just on the cusp of cumming. Chan sucked harder as Jeongin thrusted before suddenly pinning his hips and popping off his cock.

Jeongin whined. “No…Channie…”

Chan got up and went over to the bag he brought. He reached inside and pulled out a few of Jeongin’s favorite toys. Jeongin whined, bucking in response.

“Bed, little one.” Chan demanded.

Jeongin stood and went into the bedroom obediently, which was also a mess after the day. They didn’t miss an inch of the house, did they?

Jeongin laid on the edge of the bed as Chan entered. Chan placed a few toys on the table, deciding what to use right now and pouring some lube on his hand. He reached over to Jeongin’s cock and pumped a few strokes, making Jeongin buck his hips. Chan giggled, picking up the cock ring and slipping it on himself. It wrapped around his cock at the base but also had an anal plug. Wiping some of the residual lube on the plug, he moved to insert it, groaning at the stretch.

Jeongin bit his lip as he watched, hearing Chan’s groans made his dick twitch. He could have come right then, watching his Alpha in pleasure. Chan grabbed more lube and spread some on Jeongin’s ass. Jeongin leaned back, closing his eyes as Chan slipped a finger in. It was a tight squeeze as he pumped his finger into his ass.

“Fuck baby, you didn’t let Hyunjin stretch you out for me?” Chan questions.

“N-no…” Jeongin stutters, wiggling his hips.

Chan slips a second finger in and Jeongin moans loudly.

“That’s it baby, let me hear you.” Chan encourages as he pumps faster.

Moans and whines spill from Jeongin’s mouth as he loses himself in the pleasure.

“Love hearing how good I’m making you feel.” Chan bites his lip, his free hand stroking his own hard cock.

His tip was leaking precum, begging to be inside his little alpha. Chan inserted a third finger, curling them to massage his prostate and Jeongin squirmed. Chan pumped his fingers faster as he reached forward and stroked Jeongin’s cock too. Jeongin cried out at the stimulation, tears pricking his eyes.

“Look at you, baby.” Chan cooed. “I’ve barely started.”

Jeongin looks so fucked out already and Chan hasn’t even put his dick inside him. The needy desperate side of Jeongin makes Chan so weak for him, wanting to bring him endless pleasure. Jeongin usually preferred Hyunjin and Chan for his ruts and Chan was used to fuck him dumb, allowing him to let go and relax.

“Please…I’m g-gonna cum. L-let me cum…p-please…” Jeongin pleaded.

“Okay, Innie.” Chan said sweetly. “Let go for me.”

With a few more pumps from Chan’s fingers as he stroked his cock, Jeongin was shooting white ropes of cum along his stomach. He groaned loudly, feeling like he’s on cloud nine. His cock was still hard as Chan stroked it, making him jerk his body. Jeongin whined as Chan removed his fingers watching as he leaned down and licked up some of the cum from his stomach, moaning at the taste. 

“You taste so good, baby.” Chan smiled, pecking Jeongin’s lips.

“Wanna taste you…” Jeongin mumbled out.

“You will. Just not yet.” 

Chan rubbed a little more lube on his own cock before lining it up at Jeongin’s entrance. He pushed in slowly, Jeongin throwing his head back farther, arching his back. Fuck, the stretch felt so good. The whole pack knew just how well endowed Chan was, having both the length and girth.

Chan bottomed out, Jeongin wrapped so tightly around his cock. Jeongin reached down and began stroking himself. Chan slowly slid out until just his tip was in before pushing back in. He pushed Jeongin’s legs up and out to spread him fully open as he thrusted faster.

Jeongin was a moaning mess, barely able to keep his eyes open as he was stretched out. It felt so good everytime, the fill being just what he was craving. He stroked his own cock faster as he lost in pleasure.

Chan watched Jeongin as he stroked himself, biting his lip as continued to thrust into Jeongin’s tight ass. His cock was being gripped so tight, he wasn’t sure how long he was going to last. Chan leaned down, kissing Jeongin across the chest, up his neck and to his lips. Jeongin wrapped his arms around Chan’s neck, pulling him closer. Chan pounded into Jeongin, massaging his prostate just right.

Jeongin moaned, throwing his head back as his lips parted. Chan could tell he was close and sat up, drilling into his sweet spot. Jeongin’s muscles tensed as another orgasm washed over him. He cock shot more cum onto his stomach that Chan wiped up and brought to Jeongin’s mouth. Jeongin sucked on his fingers, moaning as his body came down from the high.

Chan pulled out, flipping him over roughly. Jeongin was on his hands and knees, face to the sheets as Chan entered him from behind. Chan gripped his hips tightly and pounded into him. Jeongin cried out as Chan hit deeper inside.

The sound of skin slapping filled the room as Chan thrusted into Jeongin. He groaned at his tight heat wrapped around his cock as the ring stretched out his own ass. Jeongin leaned up, riding Chan’s cock as he pushed back into him.

Chan put his arms up behind his head and he watched Jeongin use him. He moaned, biting his lip. Jeongin moaned as he circled his hips a few times before pushing back into him.

“Fuck. Look at you so desperate for my cock, baby.” Chan smirked.

Jeongin moved as fast as he could but eventually Chan grew impatient. He gripped his hips once more, pounding into him.

“Yes, Channie…” Innie moaned.

Chan pushed forward, Jeongin lying flat on his stomach now. Chan’s legs were on either side of his hips as he drilled deeper into Jeongin. He needed to cum so bad but Jeongin needed at least three orgasm before he would start to slow down.

Chan leaned forward, laying flush with Jeongin. Their sweaty bodies pressed together, Chan moved his hips to get impossibly deeper. Jeongin reached down and began stroking and teasing his own cock, moaning as his ass continued to be stretched. Chan kissed his neck and shoulders before leaning up again and thrusting faster. 

Jeongin was so sensitive, his cock still hard despite cumming twice. He wanted more, so much it was like nothing would ever be enough. But this is how ruts were and eventually his body would relax for a bit…until the next round that is.

Chan was kneeling between Jeongin’s legs, pulling him up by the hips. Then he fucked into him mercilessly as Jeongin gripped the sheets. Chan reached down and took hold of Jeongin’s cock and stroked it. Jeongin shuddered, the sensations overwhelming him.

“Come on, Innie. Cum with me.” Chan coaxed.

Jeongin whined in return, feeling his own pelvic muscles tighten. He squeezed around Chan’s cock, earning a grunt in response. Chan let go and gripped his hips as he stilled.

“Fuck..don’t do that or I’m not going to be able to hold back.” Chan gritted, making Jeongin smirk.

Chan’s thrusts were slower, as he tried to hold out until Jeongin was about to cum. His orgasm was near the edge as he squeezed his eyes. Jeongin was close too, squeezing once more around Chan’s cock. He moved to stroke his own cock as Chan picked up the pace. 

A few thrusts later and Chan was shooting his cum into Jeongin’s ass. Feeling the warm liquid filling him, Jeongin too came, shooting his load onto the sheets below.

“Fuck” Chan said, slamming into Jeongin a few times, pushing his cum deep inside before pulling out.

He laid next to Jeongin as the younger one moved to straddle him. Jeongin began bouncing on Chan’s still hard dick as his own began to soften. His movements were fast and had Chan groaning beneath him. Chan’s cock was sensitive after his orgasm and it was almost too much.

After a few minutes, Chan grabbed him under his thighs and thrusted up into him. Jeongin threw his head back, moaning as he rested his hands on Chan’s chest to stabilize himself.

“Ahh..” Jeongin cried out.

Chan grunted, lost at the sight of his dick disappearing into his little alpha’s ass. Jeongin stroked his semi-hard cock, feeling his own release building once more. Chan panted heavily, trying to hold on for as long as he could.

“Taste…let me taste…” Jeongin breathed out.

Chan slowed, lowering his hips and slipping from Jeongin’s tight heat. He laid there as Jeongin moved between his legs and took Chan’s length in his mouth. His mouth was stuffed as he sucked, Chan threading his fingers in Jeongin’s hair. He lowered Jeongin further down, hitting the back of his throat. 

Chan threw his head back, thrusting up into his mouth as he gagged. Drool dripped down his lips and onto Chan’s balls as he breathed through his nose. Finally Chan released him and Jeongin collected himself, sucking desperately on his cock. His tongue teased the older’s tip as he enticed him to cum in his mouth.

“Fuck, don’t stop baby. I’m gonna cum.”

Jeongin bobbed his head faster, stroking the rest of the length with his hand. Within seconds, Chan was cumming in his mouth, Jeongin milking him dry. Chan’s grunts and moans were loud as his body shook. Jeongin groaned, the vibrations making Chan squirm. His softening cock was sensitive as Jeongin overstimulated him and continued sucking.

“Ahhh, fuck.” Chan groaned, squirming.

Jeongin smirked, finally releasing his cock. 

Chan’s body relaxed into the mattress as Jeongin stood, looking at him with a pout.

“Can I…?” Jeongin asked quietly.

“Go ahead.” Chan said, raising his legs. He was spent but he knew the rutting alpha needed to cum again. 

Carefully, Jeongin removed the plug from Chan, slipping off the ring. Then he spit on his own cock, stroking it as he lined up with Chan’s entrance. He wiped some of the leaking wetness around Chan’s ass with his tip before slowly pushing in, making Chan groan at the stretch. He was close already so it wouldn’t be long before he filled Chan’s ass.

Jeongin thrusted, throwing his head back. Chan moaned, feeling so good but it was too soon for him to get hard again. If it was his own rut, he would be hard again from the stimulation to his prostate.

Jeongin sped up, close to his release as he pounded faster into Chan’s ass. Chan was warm and gripping his cock tightly as he moved in and out. Grunting, his hips stuttered as he spilled into Chan. He moaned loudly, falling forward onto Chan’s chest. Sweat dripped down his back as he panted.

Chan reached up and ran his fingers through Jeongin’s hair.

“You did so well, Innie.” he cooed.

They stayed like that for a while, falling asleep with Jeongin’s cock finally going soft but still buried in Chan. It would last maybe a few hours before he would wake and want to go again, but for now, they both rested.

TAGLIST:

@estella-novella @lxvxchxrlxttxbxrsx22-blog @butterflydemons @readr1221 @gaby105-skz @notevenheretbh1 @bah2004 @sinfulfic @bowsnbang @just-a-blackthorn-cookie @dreamerwasfound @motheraiya55 @m00njinnie @writeuntilthebitterend @its-the-solar-system @jutdwae-flower

[cherryheairt]

Dragon Dreamer pt. IV

there are two wolves inside of you: one wants a slow burn, the other wants them kiss immediately

🗡

Daenys and Cregan traveled for three days thus far. Daenys was proud to say that she had adjusted well to the temperature of the day, while they were traveling. Night, however, was a different story.

The first night, she tried to sleep in the tent that Cregan kindly set up for her, insisting that a princess should not have to do such a tedious task. She didn't sleep for a single minute, riding her horse like a dead girl walking. The bite of the air exempted her from sleep, although she considered no sleep better than waking up in the midst of a nightmare again.

The next night, she planned to sleep under Morningstar's wing, but the dragon had insisted on leaving after the tents were set up, apparently having a strong dislike for Dusk. The direwolf felt the same, protectively hovering in Cregan's vicinity. A cute effort, seeing as the dragon made him look like a mere pup, but Daenys would never say that aloud. So, she spent another sleepless night in her tent.

The second day, she had fallen asleep right on top of Mylo. The sudden 'thump' of weight falling onto the snow was what alerted Cregan to the princess on the floor. Mylo stopped, too, concerned at the weight leaving his back.

Daenys awoke to a worried Cregan cradling her face, thinking her dead from frostbite. When she opened her eyes, he just sighed heavily and sat back on his haunches. "What happened?" She asked, sitting up to meet his eye.

"You tell me," he grumbled, standing. "You fell off your horse with no warning, I thought I'd have to rush to the Winterfell's maester." His voice was low and stern, but clearly the stress from the situation had burdened him greatly.

"Do I still need to?"

"No, of course not. I must simply be tired." She took the outstretched hand gratefully, standing and dusting snow from her clothes.

"That's a gross understatement." Cregan deadpanned, not letting his gaze leave her, hands hovering to catch her in case she fell again. "Have you not been able to sleep, princess? Why haven't you come to me?"

"To you?" She flushed, "Why would I?"

"I could keep you warm. Isn't that your problem, the night's chill?" He asked gently, innocently.

"I..that is most improper. We can not be alone in a tent together, even with good intentions." Daenys told him, making a point to avoid his stare.

"This is the North, we are not so prudish that we forget our health for our 'modesty.''" He laughed, then hesitated slightly. "What about your first night at Winterfell? You didn't seem to mind that I stayed with you, then."

"I wish not to speak of that night. I hope you forget it." She spat, speaking quick and precise. She should not have left her chambers that night. She should have tried harder to resist her mind.

He pursed his lips, nodding slowly. "If you wish, princess."

"But, if you're so uncomfortable with it, I can command Dusk to sleep in your tent."

Daenys glanced at the direwolf, who had gone ahead of the stopped party to scout. She just barely made out his brown shape amidst the snow. "Thank you."

He helped her back onto Mylo, then mounted Red himself. "We will just travel a little more, I know a place that we often camp at just ahead. I need to hunt anyhow, while you rest."

Cregan left no room for arguing, gesturing for her to walk side-by-side to him instead of behind.

Cregan hunted after setting the tents up, taking Dusk with him. Morningstar rested her wings in the clearing, huddled between the thin trees awkwardly. Daenys sat next to her neck, stroking the dragon absentmindedly, "such a trouper, my girl. Never complaining." The dragon purred at the praise.

That night, after a hearty meal of rabbit, Dusk had slept soundly in her tent, small breaths of air visible above his little black snout.

Daenys still couldn't sleep, even with the wolf's warmth.

The third morning came painfully slow, hours ticking by while she lay completely still. The urge to take a walk and get extra energy out was nagging at her, but she didn't want to risk upsetting Cregan again, especially so soon.

So she dealt with it, telling Cregan that she had slept much better that night and trudging on through the snow.

As they got further north, the ground became dusted with heavier snow, the horses walking slower than when they first began their walk. She understood why the walk was two weeks, now, despite the distance not being that far.

Daenys vehemently ignored Cregan's stares on the back of her head. That morning, when they had packed up, he instructed her to start walking ahead of him. Though annoyed, she understood his motives.

The third night came fast, Daenys feeling the weight of exhaustion on her mind and body alike. She could hardly keep her eyes open, choosing to hide that by not looking at Cregan the whole day. Her arms felt like jelly, holding the reigns of Mylo required all of her concentration throughout the day.

Finally, they were off the horses and settled around the small fire Cregan made. He cooked some more rabbits above it, silent as he focused. Daenys took the moment to shamelessly stare at him.

His brown strands fell around his face, framing it in a soft way that did not match his northern hardness. As they traveled, it became more unkepmt. It's hard to fix your appearance with no mirror, and it's hard to care when you're just riding a horse for hours straight. Daenys ran her han through her own hair shortly, hoping the braids she had been putting it in didn't look too messy.

Lit by the warm light of the fire, every detail of his face was clear. From his steely grey eyes, straight brows that furrowed ever so slightly in his focused state, and small scar on his chin that she had never noticed before.

His features blended together perfectly, a symmetrical picture.

As she was handed a leg, Daenys spoke up. "Where's the scar from?"

"Scar?" Cregan's brow furrowed deeper, thinking hard about what she was talking about.

She pointed to her own chin with a pinky, raising a brow curiously. She bit into the tender meat, chewing carefully.

"Ah," he laughed, pausing on cutting his own piece. "It's no warriors scar. I got it while playing in the yard. My brother and I were chasing each other with the practice swords. Of course, our mother warned us not to, but we never listened." He smiled, reminiscing of his family. Daenys knew they were no longer around, but she never learned what happened to each of them besides Lord Rickon Stark, who's death was shared across the realm.

"When I was climbing up the steps, I tripped over the sword and–bam!" Cregan collided his hands together harshly, dramatically retelling the story. "split my chin open on the stone. My mother scolded me so hard in the maester's ward, I thought I'd never be allowed outside again. Took me a whole month to eat solid foods again."

Daenys laughed at his story, reminded of her own family. "Your poor mother must have had her hands full."

Cregan nodded, smile so wide that his eyes crinkled slightly. "Aye, she did. Gave my father about a million headaches, too."

"That reminds me of when Luke tried to wield Criston Cole's morningstar. He was...seven? Swung it so hard it almost took off all our heads, including his own. Left a good-sized dent in the Keep's yard piller." She shared lightly.

The two shared a fond laugh. Daenys stretched out behind her on the log she had been leaning on, letting her posture relax for once. Horseback was no favor to her back.

Cregan noticed her slump, finishing off his food quickly. "Ready for bed, princess?" He asked, standing. When she barely felt the energy to nod, he scooped her up into his arms, leaning her head against his exposed neck. She sighed at the contact, the same scent that put her to sleep on his fur coat now filling her senses once more.

He smiled softly down at her, carefully placing her into her tent and under the fur blanket. "Stay, boy." He whispered to the direwolf behind him, who huffed at having to sleep inside a tent but obeyed anyway. He closed the tent quietly, checking their perimeter before allowing himself to retire.

🗡

In Winterfell, Maester Owen was presiding over the duties Lord Stark had left behind for the weeks he would be gone. Along with Cregan's councilmen, the three days had passed smoothly.

In the raven tower, Owen sorted the letters carefully. More useless letters from the Greens council, asking of allegiance from the Starks. Adding those to the growing pile, he continued.

Marriage proposal from a Jason Lannister, offering his young (too young, in Owen's humble opinion) daughter as a wife to Lord Stark. Sighing, he placed that into a different pile. Cregan would respond to that however he saw fit, it was not Owen's place.

Although, many in Winterfell expected an offer to come soon from the Queen. A personal messenger, the Princess, here to negotiate with Cregan himself. Surely the Queen would not choose to send her only daughter all the way to the north without a generous proposal? According to the folk, anyhow. Owen thought it to be none of his business.

Seeing the princess from afar, she was a lovely young girl. Perhaps a bit shy, but any young couple has plenty of time to get familiar.

A raven landed at the open sil, startling the Maester. It squaked loudly, tilting its black head to stare into Owens' eyes, almost urgently. He took the scroll from the raven's foot, opening it to read. House Targaryen sigil? They had already sent the princess.

What Owen expected to be a victory note or a marriage offer, he did not receive anything close to. The old man gasped in horror, covering his mouth his a shaky hand. He rushed down the stairs as fast as he could, into the council chambers. "Urgent news from the Queen! Prince Lucerys is dead, killed by the kinslayer Aemond Targaryen!"

🗡

Daenys slept a few hours. The most sleep she had gotten since the trip started.

Unfortunately, it ended before she could be fully rested. The dreams plagued her mind again, not as tormenting as the ones with Luke but taking on a more solemn atmosphere. Daenys saw her mother wandering unknown beaches, dirty and red-eyed. Syrax took her from place to place, mournfully crying out for something unreachable. The two, always in sync, called for their children.

Daenys woke up sobbing, luckily not screaming or thrashing around. Perhaps that was a one-off mishap. She would forget about it in time, after she returned to Dragonstone with her brothers.

Turning, she saw the bright blue eyes of Dusk watching her. Whining, the direwolf nudged the girl's face, wondering what caused her distress. "M'sorry, boy." she hoarsely whispered, kissing his wet nose and leaving the tent. Dusk sat at its entrance, watching her go with perked ears.

Daenys found Morningstar after a few minutes of walking. The dragon, already expecting her, welcomed her with an open wing. Daenys shook her head, petting her nose gratefully. "Not tonight." Daenys continued her walk, an unknown destination calling to her. Morningstar whined loudly, urging Daenys to stay with her. But she could not follow her rider, the treeline too dense for the dragon to walk through.

Half-awake and stumbling, Daenys found herself losing track of time. She was unsure what time she had awakened, but by now the dawn's light shined on her wet face, warming her with the new day.

Cregan always found himself rising with the sun, no matter how little sleep he had gotten the previous night. And with the sun, also came a whimpering Dusk at his face, licking him awake. "What is it, boy?" He asked, raspy and bemused. Dusk didn't whimper or whine, choosing to stay silent most of the time.

When Dusk knew he was fully awake, he rushed out of the tent, standing at the edge of the camp anxiously. He huffed and whined, impaitiently waiting for Cregan to grab Ice.

"What?" He huffed back, noticing the silence of the camp. "Nothings there, go back to sleep." Still, the wolf whined louder, baring his teeth at Cregan.

Shocked, he stilled. Cregan scanned the camp, eyes landing on the Princess' tent, rushing toward it and throwing the flap open. Empty. "Shit!' He cursed, untying Red quickly. "Find her, boy!" He shouted, and Dusk wasted no time sprinting off into the forest.

It didn't take long for Cregan to find Morningstar, jumping off of Red and approaching. The dragon was standing, staring off into the dense treeline, as if she were waiting. He had expected Daenys to be here with her dragon. She must have had another dream and sought comfort with the beast. Why was she not here, huddled beneath the white wings of the dragon?

Morningstar faced Cregan, violet eyes glaring down at him. She shifted on her hind feet, reminding Cregan of a raven with her bird-like movements. She growled at the man, then turned and growled at the forest. He nodded firmly, "I'll find her."

🗡

tags- @beebeechaos

ty for the kinds words <3

[kaciebello]

No need for mail

Masterlist Badger express ★ Lorenzo Berkshire x Hufflepuff! reader (fem) Summary: While doing a school project, Lorenzo tries his luck. With the help of the wind and the sun, he falls harder and harder.  Warnings: no use of y/n,  Authors note: Haiya! This is a sequel series to the whole delivery one. This one is gonna focus on the boys separately! hope you enjoy it! English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes beforehand. Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ) And just so you know, it always has been him. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ( and yes I know he's a slut, not here tho, maybe next time.) word count: 1.1k Song: Married In Vegas - The Vamps

Light breeze messes with his hair. He does not care as much as his attention is on the mooncalf nest that rests below the cliff. The girl next to him is doing the same. Her hair is held together in a braid with a yellow ribbon wrapped into it. They are both lying down at the edge of the cliff, one wrong move and they would be rolling down. He turns his face to her.

“Why are we doing this?” He whispers, yes whispered as he has already been scolded once for speaking at his normal volume. Apparently, it would scare the weird animal away and that is not what they want.

“It's a school project, I told you that.” She says, her gaze not moving away from the big-eyed cows.

“I don't think Hagrid would care if we pulled everything out of a book.” He argues back but knows there is no way out of this. He's finally being let in on a Hufflepuff sacred. No wonder they always get the best marks in ‘care for magical beasts’. They simply just vibe with them. The girl just shook her head at him.

The girl scooted a little bit more over the edge. Lorenzo's hand flew over to her and grabbed the back of her shirt. For a witch, she does not have even an ounce of self-preservation in her body.  A small rock fell from their shuffling and landed near the nest. Scaring all the mooncalf, making them run and hide.

“look what you did!” the girl says and, with the help of Lorenzo, sits up.

“Me? I'm not the one trying to throw myself off the cliff!” he says, now too, sitting.

The girl scoffs and gets up to make her way over to the blanket where they set their stuff. He makes his way to her and sits down right next to her. Their knees touching. They both pulled out their notebook, he wrote down his observations and she finished her sketch of the animal.

Silence falls upon them as they both do their own thing. Lorenzo's eyes shift to see her sketch, only to see a familiar face. He does not know if he should call her out or not. But since he considered himself her best friend, a fact she constantly denies, he decided to do the first option.

“AYO, is that me!” Startled, the girl closes the notebook so fast it makes a thud so loud that he's certain the mooncalf all hid again. He tried to take the notebook from her, but she threw it on the other side of the blanket. She restraints one of his hands and the other one lands by her back.

When Lorenzo noticed how close they were, a smile crept on his face.  She noticed too, as his legs curled a little. She turns her body to face him more and places her other hand near his, probably so she can quickly grab it if he tries something.

He noticed her eyes were scanning his face. A breeze messes with his hair again. The girl blinks and lets his arm go, going to fix it for him. He places his, now free, arm on her thighs, squeezing them to make sure his arm lands where he wants it to without actually looking.

The two friends stay silent. Not an awkward one, but a comfortable one they always seem to find themself when they are together. 

“You're so pretty, I wish I could get you pregnant.” She breaks the silence. Lorenco can do nothing but chuckle. He buried his face in the crook of her neck. His arms now sneaking around her waist. Pulling her closer to his body.

“Ditto” He murmurs. He can feel her shake with laughter. She was now playing with his hair, something he could let her do all day if he could.  That's why he peels himself off of her. She just looked at him confused. Lorenzo just shakes his head and moves a little, before ploping his head down on her lap. He makes sure to grab her arms and slam it on his head for good measure.

She looks at him with a shocked expression before sighing. Nonetheless, she does what he wishes for and plays with his hair. He flashes her a smile full of pearly whites. 

“You're annoying.” She says looking down at him. he pokes her side making her squirm a bit.

“But you still love me.” he sings back to her. She does not answer to him. They fall into silence again. The girl is not looking at him. Something in the distance caught her attention. He did not mind, as if she were to look down on him, she would see a fool in love.

A sun framed her head and made it look like a halo. He was smitten.

“So you know how you just wanna be friends?” He says making her give him attention. Looking down at him her arm came to a stop.

“Yeah?”

“That's cool and all, but I'm like in love with you.” 

“Same” The girl just breaths out. Lorenzo did not expect her to say that. In a second he has decided he is not letting her change her mind.

He shoots up and cages her with one of his arms while the other one goes to her neck and pulls her closer. He does not give her a chance to register what is going on.

Their lips met, softly than someone would expect with how fast Lorenzo was with his moves. She took a few seconds before kissing him back, her arms cradling his face.

The kiss was sweet and slow, a fairytale-like.

Soon they ran out of breath, the girl gently pushing Lorenzo away as he tried to chase her into another kiss. Still, with closed eyes, he lends his forehead to hers.

“That was-” A low whistle cuts him off. Cursing under his breath, Lorenzo opened his eyes and straightened out. there stood four of his friends. A whine leaves him.

“AYO I DID NOT KNOW YOU HAVE A GAME LIKE THAT.” Draco makes sure that he can be heard all the way back to Hogwarts. Multiple praises and hollers sound on the little cliff they found themself on.

All the boys make their way to Lorenzo, lifting him up and repeatedly tossing him in the air. All he could do was catch a glimpse of the girl with a yellow ribbon in her hair laughing. Not even noticing the love note falling out of his pocket and getting lost in the wind.

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