#and then L and Light kiss when Light is covered in blood

[buckyalpine]

40s Sergeant Barnes with a nurse and a Sergeant kink (and breeding and house wife kink, virginity loss). This was supposed to be a pure smutty drabble but then I got in my feelings and added some fluff and angst but I promise Bucky is still a dirty, nasty little fuck in this. Just with a sweeter ending. The one he deserves.

Listen just imagine what a cute, sexy menace Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes would be just waking up from an injury when his eyes flutter open to the pretty nurse he’s been eyeing from the day he started. You’re not a shy, dainty little thing, nope. Not at all.

You bark out orders like a drill Sergeant and one glare from you is all it takes to get everyone in line and on task without a second thought. Even his superiors are scared of you, biting their tongue when you stitch them up and send them on their way before running off to your next patient.

Bucky was in love.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” he rasps, throwing you a charming smirk while you roll your eyes in response, shaking your head. "How'd I get so lucky, got a my little angel tendin' to me"

“I see your injury hasn’t stopped hurt that mouth of yours Sergeant" You quirk an eyebrow while he playfully huffs as you change the dressing covering a gash on his abdomen. You swab the area clean and he doesn't flinch even though you know it must burn like hell, his muscles tensed while he continues to watch you with heart eyes. "Now you know I'm not your little angel, I got 20 other men to fix up, you better be out of this bed as soon as you're all healed up"

“C’mon sugar, you're breakin' my heart" Bucky gives you a little pout with those perfect lips and you catch the twinkle in his eye as he looks over your form with complete admiration. He loved your sassy, take no shit attitude and it's taking everything in him to calm himself down so he doesn't get a hard on right there in front of you.

"You'd tell that to a cat with three legs if it was in a nurses outfit" You try your best to not give into his flirty comments and puppy eyes, knowing damn well he's a heart breaker but he makes it so difficult when he continues to woo you with his boyish charm.

He can't help but chase after you; catching the way your eyes always dart around with anxiety when his group returns from an operation, relief flooding them when you finally spot him. He loves your indifferent attitude, patting him down to make sure he's uninjured but your furrowed brows and the tiny pout on your lips give away that you're worried.

How can he just let you go. Every time you check over him, he needs you closer.

So much closer.

-

"Ms. y/l/n, Sergeant Barnes is requesting you in his tent, he says it's urgent"

You shake your head looking over at the time, quietly making your way over to the tent he's stationed at, thankful that a number of troops were sleeping so you wouldn't be seen as you quickly slip inside.

“And what hurts now” you sass with your hands on your hips seeing the soldier in perfect health, doing your best to assess him without letting him know.

"Always checkin' over me" Bucky chuckles, seeing what you're doing; his words making your cheeks heat up, "Knew you cared about me sugar"

"Well what am I doin' here" You give him an unconvincing huff, struggling to keep your voice steady, refusing to meet his eyes, keeping your gaze on his silver dog tags instead. It doesn't help that he's handsome as hell with a light dusting of scruff covering his cheeks. Bucky's never seen you flustered before and it evokes something in him, all the blood in his body rushing south seeing your fingers twitch.

All he wanted to do was kiss you but now-

“Help your Sergeant out doll” He whispers, taking another step forward till his chest brushes against yours, his hand coming to tilt your chin up, "Will you?"

You gasp feeling his hardness press against your thigh, your heart fluttering wildly as his thumb traces your lips, any semblance of control you had slipping away feeling the warmth of his skin.

“Y-yes Sergeant Barnes”

His lips press against yours, soft and sweet, a stark contrast to the way his body was screaming for him to pick you up and toss you onto his cot.

"Sweet like sugar" He lets his hands fall to your waist, pulling you flush against his body while your arms drape on top of his shoulders. You stand on your toes chasing more of his lips and he chuckles at the needy whine you let out when he pulls away for air.

Now let's say your first night together was actually quite tame. He kisses you again and you swoon when he repeatedly checks in with you before going any further. His hand slips under your skirt, letting his fingers toy with places no on else has touched. With each night, he needs you more and more until he can't hold off any longer and neither can you.

-

You sneak into his tent and this time he doesn't hesitate to undress you completely, not when he needs you bare with nothing separating you both. You feel your heart race as he lies on top of you, draping a thin sheet over himself when you shiver at the chill night air. You feel his body heat instantly warm you up, his heavy cock resting between your soaked folds.

"Are you sure, sugar?" He asks, his hand cupping your cheek and stroking your skin.

"Please Sergeant" You whisper and the way you say his title makes his cock twitch. There's something so different about you when you're in his bed, a sweet little bunny giving herself to him completely. It drives him feral with a need to make you feel good, make you cry for his cock and his cock only, to keep you nice and full of him.

You don't look twice at anyone else and here you are completely naked in his tent with your tight little virgin cunt, your legs spread open so he can put his dick in you; there was no way he was ever going to let you go.

"You tell me if it's too much, alright?" His lips tickle your neck as kisses your skin while rubbing his heavy cock through your folds, coating it in your slick, "Breathe for me"

He slips his tags into your mouth as he starts to press in, the initial sting making you bite down hard onto the metal feeling a mix of pleasure and pain. You whine at the way he stretches you open, your thighs squeezing around his waist, nails digging into his shoulders.

"Shhh, that's it love, doin' so good for me so good for your Sergeant, look how you're takin' all of me baby" He looks down to where you're both connected as he continues to slowly push himself in till hes fully sheathed inside you. He gives you time to adjust, slipping his tags out of your lips and letting his tongue lace with yours instead, his balls already throbbing with how tightly you were squeezing his cock.

"Please-Sergeant" your heels press into his ass desperate for him to move, gasping when he starts to slowly roll his hips, barely pulling out.

"I got you love-don't worry" Bucky moves as slowly as he could not wanting to hurt you, taking just as much care of you as you had with him countless of times.

But he can only keep up at that pace for so long. Your muffled whines and moans don't help the way his mind is already spiraling. His pretty little nurse all spread out just for him, taking his raw, bare cock in her soaking pussy, squeezing him so tight, he was only a few strokes from cumming.

If it were up to him he would've proposed on the spot, thinking about making love to you on your wedding night, seeing you all shy and sweet wrapped up in soft white lace. If you were his wife, he'd take you apart every which way, not giving a fuck about traditions, taking you right on the dining room table.

You'd be the prettiest little thing for him to come home to, such a good wife all dirty just for her husband. Only he'd know the way your mouth would slobber all over his cock like your life depended on it. The way you'd moan at the taste of his cum. Bucky's eyes rolled back at the thought of you with nothing but some heels and a string of pearls he'd put around your neck while he stuffed you with cum and emptied his balls in you.

"S-Sergeant-I-oh god" You whimpered feeling his cock grow harder, your pussy pulling him right back in, feeling the coil low in your belly pull tighter and tighter as he hit that spot.

Meanwhile Bucky's jaw clenched as he felt his balls pull tight to his body, the tip leaking steadily in your pussy. His mind spiraled into places he didn't think would exist before he met you, rogue thoughts he only entertained when he had his dick in his hand. The harder he fucked you the more he thought about how gorgeous you'd look with a swollen belly.

Fuck, imagine if he got you pregnant right then and there. That nurses uniform would no longer fit you. Everyone would know he knocked you up, your perfectly round tummy carrying Sergeant James Barnes' baby, breasts heavy with milk, God, he wasn't going to last-

“Gonna let your Sergeant pump you full of cum?” He pants, letting his hands grip onto your hips like his life depends on it, the wiry hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit.

“Yes!!” You sob, biting down onto his shoulder to keep your cries down while he continues to fuck you into oblivion. You don't understand how such filth can spew from that pink, pouty little mouth of his. "Please-please-need-youI-I'm gonna-"

"M'yours sweet girl, m'all yours, go on, cum for me love, cum on my cock, it's all yours" He gazed into your eyes, cooing at your parted lips and sweat slicked skin. It didn't take long for you to shatter around him his lips smashing against yours to swallow your moans.

"Want your cum Sergeant" You beg , desperate to have him claim you from the inside.

"Oh fuck baby, y-you can't say that, m-gonna, oh fuckkk" Your words throw Bucky right off the edge as he lets out a deep groan stilling his hips and shooting endless ropes of his spend into you. You both lay in comfortable silence, your fingers playing with his hair; his usual kempt brown locks now disheveled .

“Y’know m’gonna marry you” his scruffy cheek nuzzles into your neck as he continues to stay deep inside you as his cock softens, “after all this is over. Gonna put a ring on that finger”

His words send a different wave of emotions over you, feeling more safe than ever, clinging onto him as tightly as possible. You let a whimper slip out and he pulls away from your neck with an expression of concern.

“What is it love” Bucky coos, wiping away the tears that slip you, stroking your cheek while you bite back a sniffle.

“Do you mean it? After this is all over?” You weren't sure what Bucky would want-there was still a war going on. Anything could happen. Perhaps this was just to keep his bed warm. Something to keep him calm, you were just someone to-

"Of course sugar" Bucky presses a firm kiss to your forehead, silencing the thoughts that tried to run wild. "You're mine"

-

And of course he gets his happy ending. Because when it's all over, he gets the ring for the girl he loves. He's on one knee, proposing to you with the sweetest words. He treats you like a princess on your wedding night, making love all night long until the sun is up.

There isn't a surface in the house he's left untouched. Nothing makes him more feral than moaning for his pretty wife, constantly taking her hand and wrapping it around his cock, watching that diamond glint with each stroke.

It doesn't take long for you to feel a little squeamish, knowing all the tell tale signs.

The day you tell him he's going to be a dad is one of the happiest days of his life. There isn't a single night that goes by where he isn't nuzzling his face into your tummy, talking to your little one.

Everything was perfecttt.

#40s bucky barnes #40s bucky #40's bucky #40s bucky barnes x reader #bucky banes fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x nurse reader #bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fan fic #bucky fan fiction #bucky fanart #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x smut

[thekissofaphrodite]

I Grew this for you, Ives.

Luke Castellan X Daughter of Demeter! Reader

Summary: Your secret meetup with your boyfriend, Luke, might have been interrupted by Percy Jackson.

Warnings: MakeUp...MAKEOUT- I MEAN. Language (Tell me if i missed one!)

Author's note: It might be kinda weird that the title doesn't match the summary but trust me, it's worth reading. + If you saw a fic from another blog the same as this i requested it and decided i wanna make the fic myself.

___

New kid, New responsibility. You were known as being motherly towards every kid that stepped in Camp Half Blood. And Maybe, Just maybe, Percy Jackson considered you as his Camp Mom, It wasn't new for older campers seeing a new 12 year old boy follow you around and look up at you with big puppy eyes along with Grover's confused look, but oh well.

Ever since your Godly Mother, Demeter has claimed you, Luke has called you Ives since then. It all happened when three years ago, you ended up in Camp Half blood after your mortal father has been killed by a chimera, much to his sacrifice, You might have offered some small offerings to your Brother In Law, Hades, to watch him in the underworld. Your first week into camp half-blood, Chiron had announced that Capture the Flag will be the first game for the day, you were teamed up with the reds (Much to your disappointment) you were near the cabin fire when two boys from the blue team had cornered you (One of them was luke) you raised you hands to cover yourself but then, Two ivy vines sprouted out the soil and blocked them, horror washed over you when one of the vines that you 'accidentally' summoned strangled one of the boys, Luke was able to escape and still..Blue team one.

While they were celebrating, The red team started ranting angrily about how you made them lose, You sat in a corner, your head leaned against an oak tree as you sobbed, then, a bright greenish-yellow light appeared with gold sickle with a few sheaths of wheat above your head, No one was there, not until a group of campers saw you, they ran and moments later, almost dozens of campers were in front of you, including chiron.

"All Hail Y/n Y/L/N, Daughter of Demeter"

Bunch of flowers started sprouting near you, The forest and plants looked much more healthier in your eyes as every one knelt down, Including Luke, Who gave you a mischievous wink.

"....And this is the mess hall, You're always designated to sit with your cabin mates but that depends, most unclaimed kids just sit with their friends" You said, Glancing at Percy, The young boy just nodded shyly and coughed,trying to hide his blushing cheeks.

"Looks like someone has a crush on you" Luke appeared behind you with a grin, Percy's eyes immediately went wide, making you chuckle.

"Crushes don't hurt, it's admiration afterall" You whispered before giving percy a light kiss on his cheeks, leaving luke shocked.

One of you halfsiblings, Althea, called you over. Apparently, another one of your half sibling's EX boyfriend from the Dionysus cabin used a lard grapevine to ruin the bathroom door inside the cabin while you sibling is showering out of rage and jealousy.

Now, As head of your cabin, It's either you spent one whole hour being lectured by Mr. D out of his favoritism or...Plead with one of the Hephaestus kids to fix it for you.

What a day.

Giving Luke and Percy one last smile, You left.

__

"C'mon Felix! This is the only time that i've asked for a favour out of all the favours i've done for you, You'd do it for me" You pleaded as you followed him back and forth inside his cabin's workshop.

"Look, Y/n, I love you as my friend, but i can't do it, not right now"

"What if i give you a 25$ gift card from burger king and......" You scouried your pocket hoping to find something, Your eyes lit up as you felt a bill in your palms "50 dollars...and...." You then went to pat your bra and pulled out a coin. "A Peso"

You then placed it in his soily hands, Felix's face remained calm, he then took the money.

"It's warm..." He said kinda horrified...You pulled the peso out of your bra for the gods sake!

"Take it or leave it."

He then rolled his eyes and grabbed his toolbox.

"Lead the way"

You squealed and hugged him before pulling him to your cabin.

As you watched him repair the door in silence, Felix broke the silencce by purposely dropping a hammer to the ground, the loud clattering sound made you flinch a little, he smirked "Thinking about Luke?"

You snorted, as if tho you weren't actually thinking about him, "No, i'm thinking about Percy"

"The new kid who broke Clarisse's spear? he's badass"

"mhm, Son of Poseidon"

"Speaking of, How's Luke?"

There was a moment of silence before you replied.

"Fine"

"Just 'fine' ? No ungodly things happening?"

"No" You could've bursted out laughing.

"I don't believe you, C'mon tell me some elaborate details"

You raised your brow, a mischievous glint appearing in your eyes.

"Actually, if you finished that, i'll tell you"

The Hephaestus boy huffed and went back to work

After an hour, Felix finished repairing the door and bid you a goodbye (Along with a side-eye)

__

It was now 11 pm, the Campfire sing-along ended almost an hour ago, and you were in your cabin, re-arranging your stuffed toys for the 5th time, (Making one plushie lay beside you will cause chaos among the plushies)

"Carrie..You go here and..Princess should be right....here, Done!"

All of your plushies were in order when you heard a knock from the window near your bunkbed. then, you saw luke, still in his usual camp shirt, unlike you who was in your rather inappropriate pajamas.

His eyes first landed on you, he then grinned before groaning and landing on your soft bunk bed.

"Hey ives-"

"Luke, what're you doing here?!" You hissed, afraid that your half siblings might caught you two.

"Can i not see you?"

"You can, but not at this time" You huffed, But he was still grinning before pulling a flower pot, with a rose.

"I grew this for you, Ives" He whispered, His eyes carefully scanning you expression before you chuckled.

"You know i can grow this in seconds?"

"Mhm, But still, I love you 'till the very last rose in this entire world wilt into ash"

A smile graced upon your lips before luke grabbed your cheeks and kissed you, the flowerpot fell into your bed, the soil staining your new bedsheet, You couldn't care less.

You deepened the kiss by pulling Luke by his neck, and a groan escaped his lips, his calloused hands then slowly went up your shorts making you moan a little, His hands became closer and closer and closer until-

"Luke?"

You two pulled away, Luke's hands were still in your inner thighs, he took a peak into your window and saw Percy, in his cute pajamas with messy blonde hair.

"Percy" Luke breathed.

"What's up?"

"The Apollo cabin seemed to be having a party, the noise is too loud and i can't sleep, i was wondering if you could go see it "

You then peaked into your window, your cheeks were pressed against luke's

"Y/n? Wait..what are you guys doing? and...why are you in her window?" Percy asked, his drowsiness seemed to have vanished.

Luke couldn't even answer percy himself, he started chuckling softly before burying his face into your neck and smothered it with kisses.

Percy then stood still before realizing, he cleared his throat, but before he could leave you called him.

"You know what? I think Luke could actually take a look at those Sun Brats" Luke immediately groaned and looked at you.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. Go help the poor boy"

"Yes Ma'am"

He then got up and just as he was about to climb down your bunk bed you stopped him.

"Nah uh, You can leave where you entered"

The dark haired boy chuckled, and and started climbing down the window, before he could jump back to the ground you kissed him one last time, But this time, the kiss was much more passionate. You could've sworn percy made a gagging face before turning around.

"I love you Ives"

" 'Till the very last rose in this entire world wilt into ash" You said, Luke's eyes soften.

You watched as he and Percy went to the Apollo cabin to resolve the chaos.

The flower potted rose sat in your bed, You took it, and glanced at the beautiful red beauty, You sniffed the fragrance before placing it near your window as you felt Hypnos' warm palm caressing you to sleep.

__

The next day, The first thing you did was bang into Felix's cabin, Giving him every detail from last night as Luke, along with percy watched you from afar.

A/N:

Hey Guys! I've been gone for too long and i just watched the new PJO series and i have to be honest, I fell in love with Charlie as Luke so here's a little treat for you guys while i finish my other fics, i do hope you guys like it!

#percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan x reader #charlie bushnell #percy jackson #Disney series #luke castellan

[kithtaehyung]

broken, pt. 2 (3tan) (m) | myg

title: broken (pt. 2) pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series:masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted | broken (pt. 1) rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: the championship game lights up... and everything goes down. note: not too much to say other than thank you. this part is definitely another very, very close one to my heart. please buckle up and enjoy the ride. warnings: [spice warnings under the cut] language, angst, tension, alcohol mention & consumption, fights, basketball!yoongi🧍‍♀️, cocky!yoongi, jimin😳, tense situations, did i say angst?, long hair yoongi, crying, bro😀, reader is a real one i don’t make the rules, arguments, the chains stay on(???), …bad boy yoongi😀👍, saying softhours puts some of this lightly, bro🥲, blood/wound mentions, hurt/comfort, there’s just a lot in here y’all idek, taehyung being the best ever, …angst. drop date: february 9th, 2024, 10:37pm est word count: 17.7k my god

smut warnings: cursing, choking, light slapping, breast play, angry s*x a ha ha, crying, multiple explicit scenes y'all istg don't perceive me lol, c*nt slapping, penetrative s*x, brat!reader, protected s*x, edging, consent king ofc :), rough s*x, b*cksh*ts and a lot of them, ...unprotected s*x (yeah it's here and y'all better be responsible or so help me!!!), f*ngering, or*l (m/f rec), brat tamer!3tan yoongi!!!, reader loses themselves for a sec, but yoongi is a king, pain k*nk whewwww, kissing, so much kissing lmfao, c*m play, slight bond*ge (yoongi hands), spanking, aftercare ofc :'))

-

-

There’s no way.

How the fuck is he here? When did that horrible excuse of a guy even join a team? Had he been playing intramurals this whole time? 

“No fuckin’ way.”

Your eyes find your brother standing rigid at your side, wrists tensed to hell and shoulders spiked. Did he not know he was playing, either? Judging by his smoldering question, you’re going to guess he wasn’t aware. 

“Were they always on this team?” 

“No.”

“I don’t remember them being on any teams.”

They? Them? So they recognize more from the court on that day you try to not think about. Shifting your vision, you start gauge reactions under sounds of the growing crowd. 

It’s Yoongi that looks at you first, eyes lowering to the hand you still have on your arm damn it you should be okay about that night already. But you can’t seem to let your limb go, your fingers covering it in a weak attempt at protection and resilience. 

The blaze in his eyes makes you shake. Even as you swallow your pleas for everyone to just go home, he doesn’t look away. Instead, he walks over to stand in front of your knees, motioning for you to scoot over one so he can take the end seat.

Normally, you would slightly question why he wouldn’t just sit next to you. But this time, you’re hyper aware of what he’s doing—and why. It’s so obvious that you wanna reach out and grip his sweaty hand. 

Yoongi absolutely sat there to shield you.

And your heart burns and burns.

If only he could do more, be more, show more. Because with a rattled ego and tainted mind, you’re already yearning for his touch, wanting him to whisk you out of here and bring you back to the comfort of his home—just like he did that night. 

God, he makes you dizzy doing absolutely nothing. 

“What’s the plan,” he asks, eyes on the court and palms between his knees.

“Dunno yet.” Your brother shakes his head before looking back, eyes narrowing at the laughs on the other bench. “But I might get my ass thrown out if we—”

“Play.” 

Immediately, all three of them snap their heads your way. Fuck, your arm is still… 

One person cannot have this hold on you. There’s no way you’re going to let him control your every waking moment, and your determination bubbles into your commands. “Play the game and beat his ass,” you seethe, holding yourself together and aiming daggers everywhere. “Just make it quick.” 

Yoongi gives you a look before Jimin snags him with an eyebrow raise. 

“And you’re paying me double.” 

Looking at the man beside you, it’s almost comforting seeing his attention fully on your face. If it weren’t for your ghost on the other side of the scoring table and your brother standing there, you wouldn’t hesitate to kiss him. 

But you only nod, getting a huff and a lopsided curve in response before you watch him lock eyes with your brother, “What do you wanna do?” 

After a long, resigned sigh, your sibling finally relents, “Fuck this shit up.” 

Good. Yes. This is what you want—for you and them. “Exactly.” 

Scanning around the tight circle, you notice that you have everyone’s attention. 

But one person seems to send a question without any words at all. In kind, you answer the same way, wings battering your stomach when all of them send thunder to the court with lightning in their eyes.

Yoongi scoffs through a slant, carrying the air of someone you never want to mess with in your fucking life. “The fuckin’ nerve.” 

Jimin hums, sliding a finger along his flexed to hell jaw. “Bold,” he adds. And his voice drop sends shivers when he turns to you,

“Don’t worry, love.” 

You stare.

“This will be over soon.” 

-

-

The game is… just a game. For now.

No one’s taunted hard other than a few smirks and winks, and right now it seems as if both teams are just being competitive more than antagonistic. Which relaxes you to the point where you’re cheering from the bench with the other players—and their coach that arrived late—jumping and yelling and clapping when things go in their favor.

Your brother’s slamming down dunks. Jimin’s been playing amazing defense with his quick reflexes and high stamina.

And Yoongi? Has gotten sickeningly sharp. All those late nights at the rec center are paying off in this championship and, when he scores a hard shot, the pride you feel launches you to your feet. 

“Nice job, b—” Oh fuck you almost shout something that should never be public knowledge. Holding your tongue, you quickly switch it up with a hasty, “Let’s go!” 

That was close. Way too close. 

Get it together. 

But you cannot help it right now. Seeing Yoongi facing off against the man you both wanna square up against? And making it look easy? The fluttering you feel in your belly grows double. Triple. Tenfold. His gestures, the way he acts like it’s nothing, his shrugs at their failed attempts to stop him—everything’s making you scratch proverbial walls and kick bench chairs. 

And it’s not just him—the whole team has been playing excellently. Each play seems intentional; every pass and movement is strategic. If you didn’t know this was a casual rec game, you would think they’re gunning for a real, prestigious trophy. 

However. 

When it’s starting to be very clear who the better squad is, that’s when things start getting more than tense. 

On a foul call, both sides start getting in each others’ faces. And you peg that as normal until someone on your team gets shoved and your brother immediately gets between the action. 

Both you and the coach shoot up from your seats. 

Shit, shit, shit. If there’s one thing your older sibling’s gonna do in this game, it’ll be finding any excuse to deck that man in the face. And once that happens, there’s no telling how many injuries are gonna walk off polished floors.

Thankfully, everyone separates without a ruckus, and timeout is called on your side. The crowd starts to yell in favor of either team, and that’s when you notice that Taehyung has been joined by Shiv and your friends. From the looks of things, all five of them are laser focused on you. 

You hold a quick thumbs-up before you’re covered by hot and sweaty men huddling around the bench. And you immediately agree with their coach when he barks, 

“I need you all to calm down.” 

“No can do, coach.” 

“Not if they aren’t.” 

Shit. All of them look fucking livid, not giving any shits whatsoever if they’re willing to talk back to their leader. What’s really been happening on the court? Has it been even more tense than you perceived? 

Oblivious to the context behind this matchup, their coach keeps yelling, “Look, I don’t give a shit if you have something to settle. Play the game and leave it on the floor. Understood?” When there’s charged silence, he yells it even louder. 

And a smattering of agreement comes out before all of you hear an even bigger yelling session booming from the other bench. When you look over, it’s quickly noticeable that they’re getting reamed over there, too. 

Jimin watches before speaking, and it seems like your coach’s pleas fell on deaf ears, “Fifteen went for my legs.” 

“Saw that. Let’s switch cus he can’t guard me.” 

“K.” Park swivels his head to address someone else. “You good to keep playing?” 

Your brother responds with a nod, wiping his never-ending sweat. “Yeah, I’m good.” 

Huh. Even though you know he’s mad, the man seems… Calm. Eerily calm. It’s reminding you of the way he acted after you came home from Yoongi’s. 

And you don’t like it one bit. 

But the timeout is over, and both teams eye each other on their walk back onto the court. As it continues, the gym erupts into life again, with a bit of back and forth shots racking the scoreboard up. 

And Yoongi keeps scoring. And scoring. And scoring. 

Which lands him in a bit of trouble when the same idiot from Dalo pushes him during a layup. After he manages to make the shot, Yoongi immediately flicks him off—which gets a whistle blown. Which also means he has to sit on the bench for a second because his coach is pissed. 

Ignoring the scathing remarks being thrown, he dumps himself next to you. And you immediately feel the heat roll off of him in waves, trying hard to focus on the game. “Don’t be stupid,” you jut out. 

“What?” 

“Don’t be stupid. These guys aren’t worth it.” 

“After what he did to you?” 

The way those words leave his mouth ice you over, flares spiraling through every fiber of your being. Your reaction is so visceral that you can barely get your response out, “Yeah, but…” 

Leaning on his knees, Yoongi wipes his forehead with a crinkled to hell jersey, excess sweat pinging onto his sneakers. The crowd is loud and the buzzers even louder, but they aren’t enough to drown out his bite,

“I can’t let that shit go.” 

“Yoongi.” 

“Sorry, doll.” 

“Please just—” 

Yoongi leaves the bench before you can finish, and you whip your head in a rush, hands jutting out in a desperate attempt to hold him back. 

Only for him to be just out of reach. 

-

-

After halftime, it’s a whole different game. 

From an outside perspective, it’s as if everyone was using the first half to sniff each other out, circling around each other before deciding how and when to go in for the kill. 

And Yoongi isn’t the only one that you’re starting to worry about. Jimin, your brother, and even Rohan and the other guys are on edge, playing hard and doing everything they can to keep their scoring lead. 

Both you and their coach know you can’t stop whatever’s going on out there. And you’re starting to feel yourself getting angry at how your brother and them are egging the guys on. 

Why are they taunting? What the hell is making them so bent on making the other team pissed? Yes, all that went down with you, but nothing else had happened since then. And they clearly aren’t listening to anyone telling them to calm down.

If they end up starting shit you are going to—the fuck! 

Yoongi gets straight shoved again as he goes for a layup, and you shoot up in your chair as he hits the back wall with a thud. While the players at your side are yelling and everyone on the court starts grouping in shouts, you stay rigid, solely watching Yoongi eye his attacker—the same idiot from Dalo.

Fuck everything, you wanna rush into the fray and throw hands yourself because that looked painful.

The only thing that’s stopping you is the chilling fact that Yoongi is… Grinning. 

Wiping his curved lips, he waits while the refs break up the squabble, still looking triumphant as he walks to the line to shoot his free throws. When both of them are made, he stares directly at your assaulter—as you finally call it like it is—and doesn’t stop even when the coward looks away.

A whistle blows, and the game continues to be close. Too close, too close, too close. A couple more timeouts let you see just how laser-focused everyone is, and you’re a little shaken when it feels like they forgot you were even occupying their bench. 

What the hell is being said on the court? Even Jimin is brimming with anger. 

But after a few back and forths, Yoongi passes to your brother for a hard dunk, basket ringing from his throwdown and shaking when he lands. 

Thank god. Those points are enough. They’re gonna win. 

All the pent up anxiety you’ve harbored all game releases as everyone starts cheering, and your pride soars as your boys stare down their opponents while the clock winds down.

It’s over. The game is over, nothing too serious happened, and you can all go the fuck home to eat dinner and celebrate. 

Your eyes catch Yoongi throwing a rudely lopsided curve across the court. Even when Jimin comes up to push him back in excitement, his expression doesn’t change. 

And you find that wildly, unfathomably attractive. 

Then, as it goes, your brother comes up and they all share quick daps, eyes ablaze and not letting the losers out of their sight. 

Well. All of them are infamous for a reason. You would guess their energy altogether certainly contributes to that. Because the aura you feel oozing from them fills the gymnasium all the way up to your knees. 

And the sigh you let out mingles with their coach’s shake of his head.

-

-

Things are still tense as they all shake hands—or at least offer hands to shake—with the other team. The atmosphere is even a little iced when they receive their trophy. 

But the way you’re currently being surrounded as your guys converse hides you from plain sight, so you feel heavily protected. Even Jimin, who’s usually cheerful even when exhausted, wields sharp eyes as he keeps glancing over his shoulder. 

Honestly? You wouldn’t know what to do without them. Both your brother and all his friends, good pasts or not, are great people. They didn’t need to shield you like this. But they’re doing it anyway, because they won’t give that lowlife another reason or chance to approach you. 

Yeah. Your older sibling knows how to choose his circle.

It’s making you wonder if… 

Nah. 

That’s still too big a reach. 

When it seems like all of them and their cheering squad are gone, everyone starts making their way over to the bleachers—and you’re acutely reminded of what went down under similar looking ones the other night. 

Your shivers are overshadowed by Yuri’s telltale screams to Rohan, “You were so good, baby! Are you okay?”

Reia and Dom shake their heads before focusing on you, the latter being the spokeswoman, “So what was all that for?”

“Don’t ask,” you sigh, knowing exactly what she’s referring to. “I’m just glad they won and that we can go home.”

“You’re not coming to Yuri’s?” Reia asks. “I thought we planned on that, no?”

Ah, shit. Earlier this week, you did make plans with them without really thinking about what day they were gonna fall on. But now you’re so mentally drained that you kinda just wanna go—

“Is anyone else starving? I’m hungry as fuck!” 

Right. Food. Adrenaline made you forget you were starving. Glancing towards your brother, you quickly remind him, “Yeah, me. And you’re paying.”

“Ah, shit, that’s right.” As he lets out a hard groan and deals with Jimin and Yoongi’s comments, your sibling relents, “Alright, where are we going.”

“Up to you,” you shrug, stealing a little look at the man you want to kiss like hell for his performance tonight. 

God, Yoongi’s so handsome. As Jimin leaves his side, he silently wipes his forehead of any excess sweat, hands and shoulders shining in the lights wait wait wait. Hold on. 

Walking over, you toss any care about who notices you out the window. And as he eyes your approach, you murmur with care and concern, “Is your back okay?” 

Blinking once, twice, the man nods. “Yeah, it’s all good.”

“You sure? That looked…”

Of course he decides that now is the perfect time to rake his sweaty locks back. Speaking so low that only you can hear, Yoongi reassures with a fist full of hair, “I’m fine, doll.” 

Motherfucker. 

Pinning down your urge to reach out and smother him, you only breathe relief. And before you move away to put some distance between, you whisper, “Thank you.”

Yoongi looks your way again. “For what?” 

Swallowing what’s left of your anxiety, you sigh. “For not getting into it out there. I was about to get mad as hell, but.. Looks like they were all talk.” 

“Mm.”

Honestly? It’s a miracle. The game’s over without any hitches or brawls? More relief starts blossoming in your chest, prompting a smile to grace your features. “You looked so good out there, by the way. I almost called you ba—”

“What are y’all talking about over there!”

Your mouth snaps shut as soon as you see your brother watching, but Yoongi is quick to fire off an insult, “The way you always take so long to pick something.”

“I picked already!”

“Then let’s go then.”

Laughing, you join the whole crew as you’re all the last ones to walk out. Your friends and Shiv parked in another lot since one side was already full, so you tell them you’ll meet at the restaurant.

Some other teammates decide to join, with jerseys being shucked off as everyone heads out the door. Immediately, body odor swoops into your nose, making you welcome the crisp, fresh air of night. 

Scratch that. You smell oncoming rain. 

Conversations cease, which only leaves the sound confirming your observation: booming, rolling thunder. Stopping at the edge of the gym’s awning, multiple heads turn up at the rumbles, watching lightning crack the sky. 

In front of you, Jimin shifts his head to the side. “Still?” 

And when you look at who he’s asking, you see Yoongi nod. 

Weird. 

But it’s not raining just yet, so all of you make your way into the lot and to your cars. As you do, you check your phone while making your way over, aiming a question at Tae, “You know where we’re going?” 

“Yeah, it’s not far,” he responds, fishing out his own device. “I think we’ve been there before.” 

We? Looks like things are progressing nicely over there. Since you’re lingering behind the guys, you start to take a small jab, “We, huh? Cute.” 

Lips spread as tight as his eyes, Taehyung parries. “Cute? Look who’s talking, miss whipped.” 

“You’re whipped.” 

“No, you.” 

“No, you,” you giggle out, reaching out to tickle Tae’s side and laughing as he flinches away. You chase him for a few seconds before you see his whole body freeze completely, asking a small question before going quiet.  

And when you slowly follow his line of vision, your heart freefalls to your gut, smashing it so hard you feel bile sting the back of your throat. 

The man from Dalo. And all the guys from the court plus some. 

Surround both Jimin’s and your brother’s cars.

Fuck. Oh, fuck, there’s so many of them, standing and waiting and unflinching in the bursts of thunder inching closer and closer what the fuck are you gonna do— 

“Taehyung.”

Your eyes shake. 

“Get her out of here. Now.”

And you’ve never screamed so loud. 

Every word rips out of your mouth before you’re promptly shushed by large fingers, icicles pinging around your heart and holding it down, “Don’t fucking do thi—!” 

To your horror, Tae’s already hauling you back, voice low and firm in your ear, “Come on.” 

“No! What the fuck—” 

“We’re leaving.”

“Please—!”

There are so many of them. So, so many of them. Panic drowns out your words and excess leaks out of your eyes, your own storm preventing you from seeing that your best friend is just as torn apart. 

“Babe, we have to go now.” 

“No, let me go!” 

They’re outnumbered. What if they have weapons? What if the police are called? What if something happens that you aren’t prepared for?

You’re screaming. Curses, their names, or whatever whatever you don’t even know what the fuck you’re saying because your toes are kissing the edge of madness. 

Dragged a good distance away, your yells devolve into incoherency, your nose and eye sockets smashing into Taehyung’s solid forearm so hard it hurts. 

Make it out, make it out, make it out. For the love of everything in the fucking universe and beyond it, make it out alive. 

Some movements and backs straightening are the last things you see before getting pulled around the corner.

And when Yoongi calmly rolls one of his shoulders, you feel a wick of your soul burn out.

Panic. Worry. Panic and more panic. The car ride that Tae paid for is the blurriest muddy water you’ve ever waded through.

Truthfully, you don’t even remember blankets being pulled over your shoulder. Where even are you? Oh, you’re in a bed. Whose bed are you in because this isn’t yours. But what does it matter anyway what does anything matter anyway nothing matters there’s nothing you can do you gotta get up and go back over there get up get up go—

As soon as you yank his bedroom door open, Taehyung is there, holding you back and pushing your frantic energy back inside. “Tae, if you don’t let me—”

“Do what!”

“I’m going back!” Wrestling out of his strong hold, you bolt down his hallway, head clanging as your shoulder bumps into a wall. “We need to go back—”

“Stop!” You hear running as you burst through the living room, whizzing past the glowing television. “We have to stay here—”

No no no. There’s no way you’re staying here when you need to be back at that lot. Who the fuck would call for help if anyone needs it? When they’re gonna need it? Your vision proves so blurry you can’t even find your shoes—

Arms wrap around your waist and you fight back with a scream, “Let me go!”

“Stop and just think for a second—”

“Why aren’t you with me on this, they’re—”

“Dumb as fuck!” 

Your friend’s quick comment is so sharp it cuts your breath. As you still in his firm but comforting hold, you finally stop to breathe. Breathe, breathe, breathe as you’re turned to level a look with his eyes.

Eyes that are red-rimmed and so, so raw. “They’re idiots,” Taehyung grits out. “But they will be alright.” 

From the shake of his voice, you find that neither of you think that for sure. 

“I need to.. To…” Your breaths are ragged, energy spent and head dizzy from your quick exit from his bed. As you come down from your volcanic high, every weight the world places on your back proves too much. 

“You need to relax,” Tae advises, guiding you further back inside. And you don’t speak as he leads you past the couch, past the pictures on his hallway wall, and into the dark of his bedroom.

Maybe it’s over. Right? Maybe someone will answer if you ring them up. “Call. I need to call…” 

“Shh,” he soothes again, walking you backwards away from his door. When the bends of your knees hit his bed, Taehyung lets you down slowly until you’re sitting. “I’ll do it.” 

Brain fried from hyperactivity, you can only nod. 

Your friend steps away to fiddle with his phone, the light illuminating his beautiful features in the night. When he holds it to his ear, this is when you hear rain and the television in the living room, noticing that it’s playing a movie he watches for comfort. 

Shit. He’s going through it just like you are, and yet he’s still finding energy to calm your nerves? What have you even done to deserve him?

Guess you know how to choose your circle, too. 

Going unanswered, Taehyung lowers his hand, thumb rubbing the homescreen before gripping the device hard. 

Both of you are in the same boat. So steer when he can’t do it anymore. Soft but assertive, you rise to your feet, offering your embrace while calling his name, “..Tae.”

When he turns, the man wastes no time in dropping his phone to bring you in close. “It’ll be okay,” he murmurs, and you hear his words on your head but feel the trembles in his chest. “Okay?”

Feeble fingers grab at his soft shirt, and you bury into his scent while soaked and tired eyes shut. 

You want to believe him. You do. You do. 

But hope may be a bitch. 

So you don’t. 

-

-

Forever passes while you both lie still in his bed, with Taehyung holding you close and keeping you subdued with notes of honey and wood. You both try to have conversation, but it’s disjointed and manufactured, so giving up is a group effort. 

You’re about to give up on a lot of things before you both jolt at Tae’s phone vibrating. 

The world shifts quick as you both sit up, the call immediately being accepted and a low greeting whooshing at your side, “Hey.”

With bated breath, you hear Jimin on the line. “Hey.” 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, we’re all alright, but…”

We. We, we, we, all of them thank the fucking world. As your breath is held, Taehyung’s voice is solid, “Say it.”

“My eye is pretty fucked. Yoongi’s face is cut up and he’s got some nasty bruises on his—” 

You don’t even remember yanking the phone to your mouth. “Where is he.”

Jimin audibly pauses on the line before having the audacity to chuckle. Irked and feeling ire bubble back to the surface, you seethe, “This isn’t funny, Park. Where the fuck is he?” 

“With us.” Us. Shit. “In the car.” 

Oh. 

“Your brother’s here, too.” 

“Ah.” That means they’re all there. They’re all heading home. “Am I on speaker.” 

“Umm.. Yeah.” 

As much as you’re relieved they’re all okay, stockpiled anxiety transforms into anger, your limit striking the thundering sky. “Actually, you know what? Good. Now I can say you’re all idiots and immature as fuck.” 

It’s your sibling that responds first. “Hey, wait a damn minute—” 

“I waited long enough!” you scream, ignoring Taehyung’s wide eyes. 

You know you need to relax. But you can’t help what’s happening right now and all you feel is pain. “I know this shit isn’t new to y’all, but really? You didn’t need to do this.” 

“He was gonna—”

“All you had to do was play the game! Why’d you have to make them mad? Do you even know what could’ve happened back there?” Damn it, you weren’t supposed to cry during this part, not when you just want them to know they fucked up. 

And the response is dead silence. Because of course it is. But if they won’t answer you here, they’re gonna answer another, “Just tell me one thing,” you plead. “Is this gonna happen again?” 

That one your brother answers with finality. “They won’t be coming around anymore.” 

Gulping, you give Taehyung a glossy-eyed look before staring at his lit screen again. Trying not to let your voice waver, you accept his response, “Okay… Are you okay?” 

“Me? Yeah, the hits I took were weak as fuck. I’ll get home soon so if you wanna order in tonight we can.” 

“Fuck that.” 

“Huh?” 

What an idiot. “Bro, you don’t even know how fucking mad I am,” you accuse through gritted teeth. There’s no way in hell you wanna deal with their bullshit. Ignoring your pleas and staring harm in the face? Forget it. “I’m going to Yuri’s.” 

“What? Nah, come home tonight and we’ll talk.” 

“I just—No.” Taehyung has to grip your shoulder before pulling you into a hug. And you’re still steel in his arms because you haven’t been this upset in ages. “I’m not talking to any of you for awhile.” 

And you mean that. 

“…Fine. But go asap then. I don’t want you out late on your own.” 

So you gotta listen to what he wants but when it comes to what you say, it’s crickets? Goddamn, you’re furious. “…Of course you don’t.”

And you hang up before anyone can say anything else. 

-

-

You open the front door to your brother leaning against the hallway wall.

Both of you eye each other, one of you with a perfectly fine face and the other that isn’t so lucky because he’s a fool.

And no words are exchanged as you trudge your frustration to the kitchen. 

-

-

Ice. Bandages. Dinner. Anger propels you through it all.

Whipping up a quick but hearty meal, you let your brother patch himself up after demanding he showered. The smells of comfort food waft through your nose as things sizzle on the stove and, through the whole process, you don’t think about anything except how upset you are.

They’re all okay. But like Taehyung so abruptly put it, they’re all stupid. 

As you turn off your burner, you transfer everything to a bowl, sighing so loud it seasons the top with fire. When you approach the bar, your actions speak pretty damn loud—the dish clank shoving out a question from your sibling,

“Is there something you wanna say to me?” 

“There’s a bunch of shit I wanna say to you.” 

“It’s about Yoongi,” he asks, the absence of hesitation making your insides squeeze. “Isn’t it.” 

But luckily for you, your rage is so potent that it overruns your fear. As soon as your brother stands up and starts to repeat his question, your correction clangs through the room, 

“It’s about all of you! You say you wanna be there for me but what the fuck will doing this shit do?” 

Freezing, the man waits in shock as you keep going, “Yes, that guy deserves hell. I was so scared when he grabbed me at the club.” You stop to swallow. “But I had them both there and we left.”

Fuck, this is hard. Having to relive that shit is difficult but you need your brother—and all of them, for that matter—to know how hurt you feel right now. Mustering up enough bravery to get to the goddamn point, you finally squeak out, 

“If I lose them? Lose you? Because of something as stupid as a fight?” Your eyes search his, and your heart cracks when you see glassy sheen amongst his bruises. “What would I do then?” 

You expect silence. And silence is what you get. It’s drawn out, loud, and telling. “We know.” 

“Do you?”

“Yes,” he whispers, eyes lifting to meet yours with sincerity. “And we’re sorry.”

Another moment passes between the two of you, the food you made left uneaten on the counter and the rest sitting still on the stove. But you know your sibling will eat it all tonight, whether you’re there or not. 

And you step forward at the same time he holds his battered arms out. 

Freshly showered, he still smells like rain and exertion. But his heart beats under your chest, he’s present, and back home—things you need to stop taking for granted. 

But you’re still mad. And getting things off your chest has only made you tired, so you decide that it’s finally time to go before you circle back to other scary territory brought up tonight. “I’m leaving now,” you announce as you step away. “But just think about that.” 

“I will.”

“I’m serious.” 

“I will.”

Staring, you take note of his cuts and injuries, wondering how the others are faring even though you don’t wanna deal with anything else. Because it hurts too much, and if you see who you’re thinking about, there’s no telling what you’d do if you were like this with your brother. There’s no telling how you’d…

No. You choose to go the easy route this time. Everyone can simmer in their sore, swelling consequences while you have a night of de-stressing with your friends. 

So you leave to go pack without another word. 

It’s raining. 

Hard.

And even though your car is heading to Yuri’s, your heart is beating backwards. Tugging you somewhere else and not letting up. 

With a ping of chill, you can’t shake it. Braking at a stop sign close to your destination, you sit in silence, letting the rain pelt every side of your vehicle and wondering what the hell to do. 

Truthfully? Your brother looked like shit. But your body isn’t telling you to go back to the house, which can only mean one other place. And you know for a fact you don’t wanna talk to him, either. 

So fucking upsetting. They did all that for what? You can barely keep your thoughts in a row because they keep yelling at jostling each other just like everybody did on the court. If anyone had to fight the dipshit, it should've been you. 

Fuck! Your head connects with the wheel, an inner monster rumbling with the thunder because you’re so fed up with everything that happened. 

Your brain is the one yelling. But your heart is begging for it to listen. Go to Yuri’s? Go to Yoongi’s. Find shelter in that warm bed of hers and sink in her plushies to comfort you? 

A sigh. Maybe you can at least call him to tell him off one more time. He needs to hear what you told your brother because if you ever, ever lose him—

Your eyes burn. 

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

No answer.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

Pick up. What the fuck.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

…Turn the fuck around shit, shit, shit.

Curses flying, you whip your vehicle in a flash, heart pounding so loud it’s blocking out the storm. Which is morbidly impressive considering how horridly it’s pouring. 

Thinking in leaps, you pivot and make another decision. Tell her and make it all quick. 

Yuri: Outgoing Call

“Hello?”

“Hey, I’m not coming.”

“You okay?”

“I’m going to Yoongi’s.”

“Yoongi’s? Why?”

Ah, shit. Oh, fuck. She doesn’t know. 

Banging the steering wheel, you smash your teeth, stressed as hell from braving the rain in the dark and now snitching on yourself to someone else. 

Damn it. What do you say? What can you possibly even say when you’re so mad and stressed and conflicted and worried—

“Hello?”

“Because he’s the one,” you whoosh out, your vision quivering twice as much as it should. “And things went down after the game and now something feels wrong.”

“Oh, shit. Is that why y’all didn’t come to—”

“Yes.” When you say all this out loud, now it has weight. Horrifying weight on your chest and a block pushing down on the gas. You hear a bit of shuffling on the line, and you’re starting to get so anxious that you blurt, “Please don’t say anything. Please.”

“I won’t. Not about this.”

“Thank you.”

“Hang up, babe. Make it safe.”

“Okay.”

Go, go, go. Please, just get there. 

Letting up, you change your speed, hoping to everything good in the world that this feeling you have is only a feeling and nothing more. 

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

What a strange emotion, wanting his reason for not picking up solely being because he doesn’t wanna talk to you. That is an answer you can deal with. 

But you still can’t fight off the jagged pulses telling you it’s something else. 

After an agonizing drive, you finally see his complex, tensing harder the further and further away you have to park. 

Whipping into a spot, you screech into it before hauling your bag out, popping the trunk and desperately grabbing a plastic box you always keep inside. 

And the mad dash drenches you long before you seek cover, your bones shivering shivering shivering from the chill.

Yoongi has to be home. His car is here. 

But he still won’t pick up the fucking phone.

Skidding at his door, your knocks are rapid, knuckles singed from the ice cold wraps.

Answer, answer, answer. For fuck’s sake, he better answer. 

After a haunting moment of silence, you decide to call one more time, head wet and bones shivering as you press the phone to your damp ear. 

Finally. “Hello.” 

“Open the door,” you jump into commanding, hearing nothing other than a voice that sounds so crushed and low that it crumples you inside. 

“You’re here?” 

“Yeah, let me in.” Fuck, your teeth are clattering against each other, whether it’s from the rain, the cold, or anger, you can’t tell. 

But the reply you get is the coldest thing imaginable. And it sets your whole body aflame. 

“Not tonight.”

Hell no. Hell fucking no Yoongi is not going to get rid of you that easily. Not when you have a boatload of things to say and only one dock to dump them all on, “Yoongi, I swear to god—” 

“Not tonight—”

“—you don’t let me in I’m—”

“Go home—”

“I’m fucking staying out here until you open the goddamn door!”

Oh, you’re pissed. You’re so fucking pissed because this all could’ve been avoided if none of them were stupid. Or prideful. Or whatever the fuck boys decide to be when they can’t let something go. 

And this man still has the audacity to give you the stiff arm, silence on the line before he rasps out another short, “I’m serious.”

“No.”

“Go home.” 

“No!” 

He says your name. So, so softly, before a gut-wrenching, 

“Please.”

Breath shaken, you rest your forehead against chilly wood, hoping it quells the fire you feel rising from your rib cage. 

You can’t give up. Not when you have so much to say. Not when you have to check on him and make sure he’s fine. 

Not when you give into the strongest premonition that you need to be nowhere else but with him tonight. 

You will stay. Stay, stay, stay. Even if he doesn’t want to see you. 

Voice trembling in rage and concern and everything in between, you feel your eyes sear through when they close, mission boiling down to one more desperate choice, 

“…No.” 

You’re cold. And wet. But you will stand out here for as long as it takes him to let you inside—a night, a day, no matter what.

And for a moment. Or a few. You think he’s dead set on making you prove that. 

But you finally, finally, finally hear a sigh before a lock turn, and you try to prepare yourself for what you see but he opens the door and his face comes into view holy shit he looks like a wreck—

“What the fuck,” you grit out as you rush in with vision swimming, digging into your bag for the medkit you hastily stashed and swinging off your sandals because you gotta get something in the—

A hand grips you hard, tugging you back before you even register what’s happening.

As your feet stumble back onto linoleum, your gaze snaps to the ground. 

And your breath cuts like it’s your last. 

Shards. 

Pieces.

Thousands of wood and glass chips litter the entire open area of the living room. 

And realizing where they came from strikes like lightning. 

Fuck. Oh, fuck, what did Yoongi do?

“I told you, doll.”

You choke on a sob.

“Go home.”

Your breaths return before you straighten, tears flowing freely as you don’t know whether to start cleaning up the chaos or finally facing the one who caused it.

No, no, no. Get rid of it. 

Throw it out, all of it, all of it. 

A new fire roars to life, forging your steeling commitment as you wrestle out of Yoongi’s hold.

What did he do, what did he do?

Revving with smoke out of your ears, you burn a path to the kitchen, grabbing a trash bag before marching into the wreckage. Up go the biggest pieces first, chucked into plastic before the smaller ones follow.

Throw it all. This one, this one, and this one.

Yoongi isn’t even wearing shoes. He can cut himself up even more if this all stays where it is. 

Shit, this is everywhere. 

When you realize you’re gonna need a broom, you storm back into his laundry closet to yank one out and keep going. When you go to sweep, the sharpest voice cuts through your fingers.

“Stop.”

Your grit grips the tool even tighter. Because you won’t. Don’t dare look into his expression, either, because you know that one glance will melt every scream on your tongue. So you stay resolute and shoot rejection to the ground, “No.”

“Just go, please.”

“No.”

This hurts. 

This really, really hurts. 

Yoongi has never, ever said these things to you and it feels like a knife jabbing into the same spot over, and over again. You almost prefer three new months of no contact over whatever the hell this is.

But you have to keep going. Eyes clenching, lips wobbling, you must keep going. 

Because you came here for a reason other than this mess. And he’s gonna have to do better than this to kick you back out into the rain. 

“I got it.” 

“Let me do it.” 

“Your brother needs you.”

“Yeah, well, I already tore the fuck into him and I’m gonna do the same to you.” You harden your fist on the sweeper, tugging it more towards your shoulder with finality. And you gather all the energy you need to leave no more room for arguments, because Yoongi is going to listen, “So sit down.”

It hurts.

He wants to say shit. You know he wants to.

But he only breathes hard with eyes closed, following your orders and carrying his dark clouds to the dining room. 

When he finally leaves you alone, this is when you look his way. 

In sweats and a shirt, he appears fine. But with a deep pang, you notice he’s slightly limping. Judging from those knuckles, you wonder if they’re red from the fight or from hitting another wall of his apartment. 

Or from whatever the fuck happened around your feet.

Shit.

While he dumps himself at his table, you clean up the pieces of his rampage, mentally noting that one plan of yours has now changed. 

This one. These, too. A string here. A metal piece there.

You don’t know how long it takes you. All you know is that you’re burning inside, determined to clean everything and sweep this chaotic energy away. 

One more. Two more. Another one here.

As soon as you’re done, you lug the trash bag out of the front door and don’t give a shit what happens to it now.

Keep going. There’s more that you need to take care of.

The fuel inside of you rages on, anger conflicting with anxiety and past worries and sadness for something that didn’t even happen. As you spin, you vow yourself to keep pushing until you can’t anymore. 

Sniffling. Shivering. But staying strong because things could’ve gone a lot worse. 

Yoongi meets you by the table, messy, damp hair shielding his features. “You’ve done enough.” 

“I still need to—” 

“Just.” He looks away. “Go home, doll. I can’t do this tonight.” 

“Do what? I’m helping you.” 

That’s what you do for each other, right? You both help each other. But now you’re not so sure because Yoongi comes back with not an acknowledgement, nor a way of relenting. 

But ice. 

“Who said I needed it?” 

And in all the time you’ve spent with this man, this is the first time you’ve felt downright cold. “Yoongi, what?” Your eyes travel across his face, chest caving in when there’s barely any hints of vitality. “Are you serious?” 

“You think I’m joking?” 

“You’re kicking me out? What happened to saying you’d never do that, huh?” 

“I say a lot of things.” 

…Oh.

That hurt. That… That physically couldn’t have hurt any harder. 

Nodding, you look away, shaking your head in disbelief because you are on the verge of losing it. “You know what? You do say a lot of things.”

Walking away, you start rearranging pillows on the couch pushed askew. “Like how perfect I am.” Picking up his books from the now non-existent coffee table. “And how there’s no one else.” 

As you give the volumes a new home on his intact tv stand, you turn to face him again. “Those are just words, too, huh?” 

Yoongi kicks his head back with a smile, one that cuts instead of mends. “Nah… Not tonight.” 

“Not tonight what.” 

“We aren’t doing this tonight.” 

“The fuck we aren’t.” It’s his turn to walk away, with a slow head shake that you really don’t like. “Where are you going?” 

“Nowhere.” Yoongi shifts his head to the side, but not enough for you to fully see him. It’s almost as if he doesn’t want you to. “But you’re going home.” 

Something’s off. There’s something completely off but all you feel is sadness and rejection in your ribcage. “So this is how it happens, huh. Now I’m just like everyone else.” 

He finally faces you, miles away even though you’re just rooms apart. “You’re gonna go there?” 

“I am.” 

“Wow.” 

That’s what he comes back with? This is gutting you from the inside out and you have no idea what’s happening but now rage is flaring into your mouth, “You think I wanted to come here? After what all of you did?” 

“Do you even know?” 

“No! But how the fuck would I? You don’t tell me shit!” 

“That’s cus—” 

Your response sears over his floors, “I can take care of myself. But none of you told me about that dude from the court. None of you.” Breath shaken, you continue dumping out all your thoughts and previous concerns, “If I had known? That whole Dalo thing could’ve been avoided and I would’ve ran.” 

For a person that you’ve come to know as so warm, Yoongi’s entire aura freezes you over as you keep talking. “And today? You know how fucking scared I was? If I… I…” 

All he does is stare. Why isn’t he doing anything else? Is he really flipping the switch and choosing to legitimately let you leave this time?

Fine then. 

“You know what?” Giving up, you laugh—harsh, and breathy, and without any joy at all. “Forget it. You’re not even listening anyway.”

“I swear to—I just said not tonight.” 

Frustration from the game, fear from the ambush after, anxiety from not hearing from them. All of it coalesces into something you can’t even control anymore. Your buffer shuts off, the monster you created seizing the reins, “No, I get it. I do! You want me gone. Sure. See you in three more months.” 

Stunned, Yoongi huffs in disbelief, jaw working overtime. “Are you serious?” 

“Yes, I am. Trying to help you but it looks like you don’t even want that. So good fucking bye.” 

And it looks like he has a beast of his own because his next response to your last attempt has you reeling back in shock, 

“Who asked you?” 

Dark liquid drips onto your soul. 

You can only stare, unblinking and feeling like you’re in an entirely different universe. “Who asked me? Who asked me.” 

“That’s what I said.” 

Forget the question of who asked you because… Who are you even talking to? Who is this person standing in front of you because it’s not the Yoongi you know. It’s so jarring and hurtful and strange that you truly feel thrust into the middle of a nightmare. 

You’re gonna do it. You’re actually gonna leave this time. 

“You know what? Kiss my ass, Yoongi.” 

God, it hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

It hurts.

You don’t even know where this is all coming from. All you know is that you’re angry and there’s no stopping the hot magma bubbling in your center. 

Silence fills the room.

And it rains. It pours.

But finally, you hold a sob back before burning a shaky path to his door, wrestling with the lock before yanking it open—

Only to have it shut back in your face, so thrown when you realize you’re getting spun. Air whooshes out of you before your shoulder blades connect with wood—  

And this is the goddamn breaking point. The walls you haphazardly built to keep you upright collapse and tumble. It’s so potent and blinding that you don’t even realize your hands are connecting with his chest in the weakest, saddest ways and you are outright screaming. 

“God, what the fuck! I told you to—We didn’t hear from you for hours and I—I didn’t know if you were okay—” 

“Whoa, hold u—” 

“I thought the worst and I—didn’t even get a chance to—I finally told you want I wanted and you—Fuck—” 

“Just listen—” 

“Don’t ever do that again! I don’t wanna lose you and today was so fucking scary and I’m not, fucking, leaving—” 

Your lips are smashed to hell, his lips bruising so hard you feel it in the back of your skull. And it’s a whole storm as Yoongi pins you against the door, leg wedging between yours and his hands gripping you like a vice. It’s intense. It’s overwhelming. 

“I swear to—” 

You don’t know what to do. What to do what to do what to do, and all your madness jangles as you’re yanked and slammed against another wall, breath leaping into his open mouth before you tug at his hair, digging anger through his shoulders. 

“Can’t fucking listen, can you?” 

“No,” you rip from your throat, shoving him back only to gravitate right back and lock lips again. 

And he rips at your clothes, tearing the front of your shirt so far your chest emerges on full display. Before you can even react to the cuts on his face, Yoongi’s hand clenches around your throat, making you gargle just how you fucking want to right now. 

“Shouldn’t even fucking be here.” 

“When has that ever stopped us.” You groan as you get rapidly led back into something hard, and you realize it’s the dining table digging into your ass. 

“He’s still home.” 

“So?”

“Shouldn’t you—”

“Then kick me out!” you taunt. “For real. Let me go. Fucking do it then.” 

Yoongi works his jaw before gripping tighter, making you groan and your gut flare into something primal. Nostrils flaring, he moves to grip your head hard enough to make your stomach flip but not firm enough to scare you. 

Never to scare you. “You aren’t gonna leave me alone.” 

Your eyes are ice. 

“Are you.” 

You solely watch in determination, breath harsh from your nose and billowing out like steam. Drilling your answer into his eyes, you charge the surrounding air enough to spark like the flashing sky outside. 

And Yoongi cracks like lightning. 

“Goddamn it.” 

Everything happens at once and in quick succession. Teeth grit to hell, Yoongi pulls you upward before fast stepping you to his bedroom, slamming you through the door before you shove him right into his desk. 

Things teeter and shake and clang with each impact, your storm disrupting everything in its path and creating a tornado of desire and thoughts in your brain. 

Something swirls and twists between your souls, tightening and condensing into emotions darker than midnight. And as angry as you are, it’s slipping into a dangerous mania, and you’ve never been this excited for anything in your life. 

“Stubborn.” 

“Coward.” 

Your back stings as you’re pushed back into his door, the wood smacking into the spackle of his wall. Rough lips smother yours as you claw at his shoulders, neck, hair, and you hear him growl into your mouth, 

“Want me to kiss your ass? Suck my dick then we’ll talk.” 

“Fuck you. I give better head than you anyway.” 

His words rival the deepest growl, “Prove it.” 

“Make me.”

Whirlwind. Storm. Tempest. At this point, it’s a whole goddamn high. Your body is thrumming and the only way to feed your anger is to channel it through actions. 

And truth be told, you need this. You both do. With all the high strung emotions that had nowhere to go until you collided?

This is liberation. 

You’re shoved onto your knees before Yoongi dives into his pants, and you’re already hungry and impatient enough to help him shrug his sweats down before he can do it himself. 

“Choke on it,” he commands, holding his dick and watching as you note how hard he already is. When you waste no time taking him in, you elicit the deepest groan you’ve ever pulled from him when you fling spit onto his length. 

Maybe his reaction is to your face. Because you’re still mad as fuck and you aren’t done letting him know that. 

With a passing thought, you realize that this is all new. But you’re welcoming it because it’s working. Only Yoongi can bring out this passion even in anger, or maybe the two of you were going to get to this point no matter what. 

“Fuck.” He steadies the bottom of your chin while you suck him off. “Uh huh. Got anything else to say?” 

You flick him off, and he hums with a rumble, his cock reacting and hitting the back of your prideful throat. 

“Fuck you, too, doll.” His talks devolve into hisses, grunts, moans when you slobber all over yourself, and your cunt is already dripping with your own slick. “There you go. Gonna take it all? Or are you gonna keep running that mouth?” 

And you pop off before taunting, “Find out, pussy.” 

And you’re swallowing him before he shoves you all the way forward, your body arching up in a gag but filled with him him him, your nose flat against his pelvis and his dick squeezing tears from your eyes and your throat overstuffed to hell and there’s no way he’s gonna forget this moment. You’re making damn sure of it. 

Another middle finger raises as you’re tensing around him, and you can barely hear him above you but you do know he’s massively pleased. Tears stream down your eyes when you’re yanked off, gasping for air and being pulled off the ground. 

“Holy fuck.” 

Throat hoarse, you attempt speech but it doesn’t matter anyway, because his lips steal them all. And your cunt is slapped with a whole palm, making you flinch and shoot out a whine into his kiss. 

Before you know it, your body hits the bed before he joins you, arms bulging as he rips your top open completely. You can’t even think straight as he teases your earlier efforts, “I’ve had better.” 

“Oh, you fucking—Shut the fuck up,” you growl, a moan leaving without permission as he palms your cunt again. Just when you think he’s gonna top you, Yoongi hauls you up, hastily leading you around the bed until your back connects with another wall. 

You love that shit. And you’re starting to think Yoongi is very, very aware of this fact. 

“Take those fuckin’ pants off,” he orders. “And hands on the wall before I put them there.” 

“Can’t make me do shit—”

Fingers grip your chin before Yoongi gets right into your face, primal instinct making you go on full alert. As his tongue prods his cheek, your whole lower body quivers. “I can. And I will, if you don’t behave.” Tapping your jaw in a warning, he hums. “Now do what I fucking say.” 

Holy shit, he’s not playing around. Which only heightens your desire to peaks previously unreached, and you’re shucking your bottoms off while he yanks his drawer open for condoms. Hurrying, you fling your clothes away before planting—

Yoongi smashes his whole front against your back—pinning your whole body against the cold, rough wall—before intertwining long fingers with yours. “Good girl.” 

Hitching your hips back, he sticks your ass out as you slip, and you feel his cock tease your entrance. Groaning, you grip your hands into fists as he continues to rub your cunt but never enter. Denying, denying, denying. Smacking your pussy and still not letting you feel him inside. 

And it’s maddening. “Please!” 

“Please what,” he asks, giving your ass a spank that has you flinching into the wall. 

And, without any shred of mercy, this goes on for longer than he’s ever held out. It’s so sickening that tears start flowing from your eyes, and you devolve into saying anything to get him to fuck your brains out. Between spanks on your ass, slaps on your tits, and aggravating kisses on your back, Yoongi doesn’t let you phase him for minutes. 

It’s when you choke on a sob that he finally, finally squeezes inside of you, checking for your nod before wrecking you completely. 

“Oh, fuck—” Your eyes shut tight as you try to keep yourself upright, hands pushing against the wall as your legs shift with every thrust. 

“This ass. Fuck.” Yoongi’s pace is relentless, hands bruising your hips and your cheeks smacking into his pelvis over and over and over. “It’s a goddamn problem.” 

You’re trying so hard. So, so hard to stay on the wall. But your hands are too sweaty; they're starting to slip with each attempt. “Bed,” you command. “Bed now.” 

And he obliges immediately, pulling out and yanking you back. Mouth to your ear, he both checks in while making your legs jelly, “You tapping out?” 

“Break my fucking back,” you rasp in return, hearing him growl in satisfaction before burying you facedown into his bed. As he plunges inside again, you grip at his sheets, driven to the brink and reveling in all the things he’s saying to you while feeling him in your stomach. 

Suddenly, you feel your arms pulled back, and you yell into his mattress as he buries himself even deeper. Everything you’re screaming makes no sense, but the phenomenal sensation you feel as you go limp renders you speechless anyway. 

Yoongi knows exactly what he’s doing as he pushes his thumb into your asshole, because you clench so hard around him that he chuckles darker than dark. Careening into space, you kiss the edge of euphoria before he inconveniently pulls out, launching a sling of insults from your mouth. 

“What was that?” 

“I said fuck you!” 

“Thought so.” 

Not done in the slightest, Yoongi hauls your thighs so flush against him that you have to use your fingertips for support. Just as you’re about to argue, he rams into you from a new and impossibly enticing angle and holy fuck it feels so good you want to weep.

“Put that fucking hand down,” he growls, smacking away the fingers you didn’t even know were on your mouth. “If you wanna talk shit.” 

“Fuck—!” 

“Uh huh. Let it out, baby girl.”

You’ve never felt this out of control. This wild. This out of body. Your head is yanked back, your back pressing into the front of his shirt before you feel him so far into your guts that you quiver. 

Now at the mercy of his tongue in close range, you hear his gravelly tone in your ear, “What’s my fuckin’ name.” 

“Asshole—” 

A hard smack to your tits has you crumpling with a whine. “Say it.” 

“I’ll say it if I wanna say it—” 

Another spank to your inner thigh and you’re gone. Eyes roll as he tweaks your nipple, and your words are almost garbled when he grips your chin from behind. “This what we’re doing? Hmm?” 

You laugh breathy before you taunt, “Uh huh.” 

“Mm…” Despite your laugh, you shake. “I wouldn’t do that, doll.” 

“Make me. Bet you can’t.” 

Tensed and veins angry, Yoongi grips both your tits before snarling, “That’s enough.” 

Swiftly, he shoves you down into the sheets, muscular frame pinning you as he strokes up into you just right. Again. Again. It’s all too slow and too effective and you’re trying to stay mad but all you can feel is perfection, your back arching at his thrusts and mewling at his low growls in your ear. 

“You wanted this.” Another thrust. “Talking shit.” Your jaw goes slack. “Pissing me off.” 

Your groan is downright erotic. Why why why? Just knowing you’re making him this mad flutters your cunt and, from the sinister chuckle shooting into your neck, Yoongi definitely felt that. 

“Fuckin’ thought so.” 

When he reaches to grab your breasts, the last thrust has you crying out in a flurry of pleasure. 

Every single thought is Yoongi, from beginning to end in a biblical cycle of debauchery. Exertion leaves you slick, sweat coating the expanse of your skin only to press into his bed, your mess your mess your mess. At his hands. The smacks of his cock. The rolls of his hips. Are you gone? Are you here? If he’s bruised then you feel like you are, too, and you welcome the temporary pain as Yoongi’s fingers dig ever deeper into your waist fuck one’s now pinning your head down. 

The moans you let out are unending, and your thighs shake when all you get in response is a laugh of condescension. 

“Look at you. Can’t even stay mad.” 

“Fuck you!” You’re close, you’re close, you’re close again. Release is at your fingertips, but Yoongi yanks himself out to rip it away from your outstretched fingers. “No!” 

“What, doll.” 

“Please!” 

“Nah.” 

Body sore, you’re flipped over with no mercy as something else presses against your cunt. 

Fucking hell, he’s eating you out now? Shaking, you feel Yoongi’s tongue swirl around your thrumming clit before he sucks, edging you to the point of tears and heartbreak. And it proves too much as you grab at his head, yank at his hair, because he lets up when you’re close. 

Every. Single. Time. 

Your madness spirals into your curses, and he relishes in your despair, continuing to lick and suck and slap your thighs with patience. “What do you say?” 

“Please!” 

“Mm. Not loud enough.” 

“Yoongi, please.” 

“Oh, we’re saying names now?” 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, it aches. It’s starting to borderline hurt. “I’ll be good,” you barter, beg, plead with a head spinning off its own axis. “I’ll do anything.” 

“Do it yourself then.” 

Later, when you look back on tonight, you’ll be embarrassed and shy to hell. But right now, you’re so over any shyness that you don’t hesitate, reaching down to rub at your clit and moaning when it’s so sensitive.

And Yoongi gets a front row seat. 

His groan is gutteral. And it doesn’t take you long to quicken your pace, bucking your hips and whining to the ceiling. You’re so so so close it’s right there—

Your hand is smacked away. And after you try to wrestle out of his grip, you are a flat out, blubbering mess. “Yoongi… Please…” 

“Nah.” 

This is torture. And you’re frightened at how much you’re enjoying it. “I’m so close.” 

“You’ll come when I say you can.” 

“Please! …Please..”

“You done being a brat?” 

“No! Fuck. Yes!” If you weren’t so far gone, you may have deciphered a tiny smile of amusement. But it won’t be for months later until you’ll realize that you were wrong. 

Because the menacing flash of teeth you see is much too wide to be anything other than pride. “The fuck did I say? Use your words.” 

You know you’re still upset. You know Yoongi is still upset. But for some reason, you feel closer to him than you have in awhile, and you wonder if lust and madness are two sides of the same coin. “Let me come. Please.” 

Yoongi finally obliges with something he hadn’t pleasured you with yet. And your vision blanks as you yelp at the sensation, his slick fingers pistoning into your folds so fast you’re arching so taut. From between your quivering legs, you hear one final command, 

“Then fucking come.” 

And you burst, so hard you almost feel like something threatens to spew from your cunt. But all you can do is shake and thrash under his grip, so erratic that you feel like Yoongi’s starting to pin you down. Gone, gone, gone, you’re sure the veins of your neck threaten to break through your sweaty skin. 

Then you feel his cock thrust inside of you, and you whip your head forward only to get your airway cut off. “Again,” he calmly repeats, flinging you back to the last time this happened. 

Only this time, there’s even less room for you to make any other choice. 

“I said again.” 

Your body cannot fathom disobedience, pulsing and milking his perfect fit. Over, and over, and over. You hear rumbling from a dragon above, feel breaths of steam whooshing as it watches you come undone. 

“Yoongi—” 

A light slap to your cheek is your only warning before your chin is tugged, lips smushing into yours to swallow your straining sobs. Fuck, fuck, fuck, your body is still thrumming, inundating around his cock until your emotions spill from your core. Toes. Fingers. Everything is straining and locking in place. 

“So fucking hot.” He rips your soul right out. “Shit.” 

You fly through time and space, gathering emotions and feelings and spiraling spiraling spiraling. Crying. You’re crying. Full on crying you’re so overwhelmed with everything truly you were so mean to him you upset him holy fuck you should’ve left when he told you to—

“Baby.” 

But you cannot stop crying, choke choke gasping on sobs. 

“Babe.” 

“I—I—” 

Your name stabs you with a crisp shot, coupled with a firm grip on your chin, snapping you back to lucid. And Yoongi’s eyes are frantically searching your own. “Look at me.” 

You do. Do you? You do. And his eyes… 

They’re not angry at all. It’s pure concern. Steadfast concentration. And something reflecting your soul. “Breathe.” 

“Oh, shit,” you whisper, coughing and reaching for oxygen you didn’t know you were denying. Air rushes back into your lungs as you inhale. 

“There you go. Keep going.” 

You do, gulping down air and hiccuping a breath or two. Your cheek is being caressed, you think. And with another pass, you know it is. 

“Relax for me.” And you hiccup a sob. “Breathe, babe.” 

You do, you do, you do. Yoongi kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and you breathe more and more through it all. “You with me?” 

“Always,” you answer, filter off because you are hanging by a thread and he’s holding the top. “Please don’t kick me out ever,” you hiccup. “Please, baby, I’ll do anything for you but I—could—never handle that—” 

You’re tenderly hushed before lips slide over yours, attempting to swallow your thoughts and your sobs and your oncoming tears. As you flood his bed with apologies, Yoongi keeps wiping them all.

“I’m sorry.” 

“Nothing to be sorry for.” 

“I’m really sorry.” 

“Babe.” 

“You told me so many times—” 

“Breathe, angel.” 

You blink at the change in name, and it makes you focus just a bit stronger. Floating down from the precipice. 

“I wasn’t kicking you out,” he slowly explains, kissing sweat from your forehead. His words feel like a calm, rock-filled river over your eyes. “I felt like an idiot and hated you seeing me like this.” 

“Like what?” 

“Just… Like this.” 

“You’re perfect like this,” you hitch out, not caring about what flows out of your mouth. “So perfect. Always to me. I just wanted to help you, baby, I’m so sorry—” 

He hugs you so tight more tears squeeze out. 

And so do more confessions, “I… I care about you. I think a little too much. If I lost you, I wouldn’t—be able—” 

“I’m here.” 

“So please don’t push me away.” 

“I won’t.” 

“I know you don’t make promises but—” 

“I promise.” Without an ounce of doubt, Yoongi places a firm, lingering kiss on your temple. “Promise. Fuck.” As he holds you tight, you feel him shake before you hear the tiniest sniff at your ear. 

Oh. He doesn’t need to be like this, too. You try to move your hand up between your bodies to comfort him, but your whole limb feels gelatinous. So you simply whisper, “It’s okay, baby.” 

You can’t tell how long you lie like this, with his beautiful weight on yours. But time is irrelevant when your mind is unwinding from hours of whirring, starting to finally accept the fact that everyone is okay and you don’t have to be angry anymore. 

“Come on,” Yoongi rasps, voice cracked and airy. “Let’s go.” 

“Hmm?” 

“Shower.” 

“Oh. Okay.” 

You’re so thrown and dizzy from what just happened that even getting to the bathroom is a blur. What you kinda feel is Yoongi holding you upright when your legs buckle, but you don’t remember when he leaves your side to turn the water on. 

As he flips on the light, your eyes squeeze until they adjust, and you watch as he tests the water while fully clothed. Air conditioning starts to give you a chill, but the shower warms up just in time because he reaches out to guide you inside. 

Wait. Is he not joining you? Bleary, you grab at his shirt when he steps away, eyes pleading. “Are you coming in, too?” 

Yoongi stops before he gives a shake of his head. “I’ll take mine when you’re done,” he says through a slight smile. “We’ll take care of you first.” 

That doesn’t make sense. Even in your depleting haze, you know something doesn’t add up. “You can join me now. I don’t mind.” When you try to lift his shirt, Yoongi visibly flinches when you brush over his ribs.

And all the murk around your head vanishes in a snap. 

He kept his shirt on that whole time. Not once did your positions allow you to see his upper body fully. And now he’s not gonna get in the shower or take his shirt off? 

Your voice lowers two octaves when you reach full clarity. “Let me see.” 

Unblinking, Yoongi tries to back away, “Don’t worry—” 

“Let me see it, baby,” you command, breath cut until he finally allows you to lift his shirt up holy fuck those injuries look so painful tears prick your eyes. “Oh, my god, Yoongi—” 

“I’m fine.” 

“You’re hurt.” You feel these wounds deep in your ribs, and you tell him to get your kit what the hell he fucked you while feeling those? 

Attempting to alleviate your stress, Yoongi decides to strip fully and step into the shower, ignoring your pleas to grab your med kit and promising you can take care of him when you’re done washing up. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, doll.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Promise.” 

And when his arms wrap around you, this is when you finally let go. Huge, chest-wracking sobs echo around tile, and Yoongi stays quiet through your cathartic release. 

There’s another reason you were so upset. And it has nothing to do with any of them, but with yourself. The main reason you’ve been so riled up and frustrated is because… This is technically your fault, too. 

But, unsurprisingly, he won’t let you take any blame whatsoever. 

“You got hurt cus I said to play.” 

“Nope.” 

“I wore the outfit that day.” 

“Doesn’t matter.” 

“And lost my friends at the club.” 

“No.” 

Sniffling in quick succession, you think about one other option. Some form of closure that can double as compromise. Voice soft, you suggest the last resort you have, 

“How about we share it.” 

Yoongi blinks twice before he clarifies, “You wanna share the blame?” When you nod, he huffs through the tiniest smile of confusion. “Mm. Then it’s our fault.” 

“Okay.” 

After shaking his head, he closes his eyes, molding his forehead with yours. “What are you doing to me.” 

A sniffle. “Wrecking your water bill.” 

His laughs join yours as you barely get your sentence out before giggling, and to feel him so close and present and here makes your worries slink down the drain. 

Hands trace down your arms, walking along falling rivers before creating ponds with your fingers intertwined. “Gonna clear me out someday.” 

“Duh.” 

He’s himself again. 

And after a whole night of chaos, you feel like yourself again, too. 

That’s all you both need to feel peace. 

-

-

You keep that tranquility carrying you through his room, peeking into his closet to grab the biggest shirt and sweats you can find before drying your head. 

But no matter how much water you can dry, your body will keep being washed in relief. And it’s the calmest feeling, watching as Yoongi does the simplest things near his bed. 

Your lips curve when he pulls up his pants; your heart beats when he grabs a tee. It’s in this moment that you admit that these outfits of his are your favorites, and you gravitate to him as he slips cotton over his damp head. 

“Come on,” you softly offer as you turn. “I’ll make food and get you some ice.”

Again, Yoongi just stares with a faint smile. But his eyes are alive again, so you’re more than fine if he just follows your lead without a word.

In the kitchen, you pause amongst the appliances, the cabinets watching as you utilize your phone to find a good recipe. “What shall we eat… Stew? Or, wait—” 

Looking up, you eye him in thought before choosing to focus on something else. “Actually, let’s figure you out first.” 

Opening yet another tab to add to your hundreds, you type away before selecting a good starting point. “Okay, let’s see. You’re breathing fine, so no bruised ribs. Umm…” 

Scroll, scroll. 

“It looks really bad there, though. You sure you can move right?” 

Despite asking, you go right back to your phone before Yoongi can even respond. Scrolling and clicking and reading again. 

Scroll, scroll. 

“Okay, so no bruised ribs, and according to this you don’t have any broken bones. And nothing fractured, either, thank god—”

“I love you.” 

Time bursts.

Your chest glows. 

Everything starts to beat, beat, beat in slow motion. 

And you don’t even feel like you’re in the room anymore. “…What?” 

You need to hear it again. You need to need to need to, because if you heard him wrong, you will check yourself and bolt right out the door. 

His eyes. 

Despite the battlefield on his skin, they are dripping, and sparkling, and full. The whole world suspends as he stares right into your soul, caressing it with his wounded hands and cradling it in his bruised arms. 

No matter how hard the moon will try—for years, and years, and years more—it will never outshine this single, shaken, solidified admittance. 

“I love you, doll.”

You don’t know what to do. You don’t know what to fucking do. 

Why is Yoongi saying this now? Why is he choosing now of all times to make you the happiest person in the universe? 

No. 

Happiness isn’t even close to what you feel and you’re pretty sure you’re crying but nothing makes sense and your vision plunges under sunlit waters. 

“And you don’t have to say anything. I know I don’t deserve to.” 

What?

“I can’t be everything you want. Or need. Or whatever the fuck I’m trying to say. But I just needed you to know because I can’t fucking fight this shit anymore—” 

You lunge forward before he offers his last syllable, careful to avoid his wounds and not mush his face because he would do the same for you. 

And it’s all too much tonight. The lingering fear, the dying anger, the floods of relief, the joy. You can’t stop your sobs from coming out in bursts, your whole body wracking with overwhelming emotion as he grits into your skin,

“Goddamn it, I—”

“Yoongi—”

“—so fucking much.”

Yoongi loves you. He’s here. He loves you, loves you, loves you and the beats of your heart pulse orange and blue, blue, blue. 

Nothing will ever compare to this moment. Nothing. You will bottle this one up in a jar to place next to all the others you have stored, and when you are lonely, or hurt, or even when you’re doing just fine, you will uncork it to surround yourself with this memory and know that everything will be okay. 

He loves you. 

Fuck, he loves you? 

You choke out his name with a sob, and he squeezes you even harder. When you can’t reply with anything else, he buries his face in the crook of your shoulder, his tears taking root and blossoming into beautiful vibrant fruit all along your rib cage.

He loves you.

Why can’t you seem to say it back? What the fuck is wrong with your tongue?

Maybe it’s because saying it doesn’t feel like enough. Like it’s laughable that there are words for this feeling because they don’t nearly represent what you harbor in your very being for this man. 

There’s no way any words are enough. Not for him. Nor for you. Because right now, Yoongi needs something more. And you’re going to give him more than everything. 

“Yoongi, I—”

He captures your lips in his, and you let him push you against his counter and consume you everywhere he wants to. Between his claims, your sobs have room to breathe. Which makes for a horrible showing of your attempting to say what you want to. “I… I can’t… Yoongi—”

Fingers press into the back of your head, a forehead smushing into yours and shutting you up completely. “I’m sorry,” he says, words rolling down the tracks your tears have walked. “I won’t ever be able to say that enough.” 

“Baby,” you hiccup, resting a hand over one of his. “It’s okay.” 

“It’s not.”

“It is.” You squeeze his hand, feeling the lovely digs of his knuckles in your palm. His scent wafts around you like an embrace, and you know there’s nothing quite like it. At all. “You’re okay, so I’m okay.” 

After he plants a warm kiss on your temple, you feel his hands ball into fists at your ears. “I just—fuck.” 

There’s no telling what he’s thinking about in that brain of his. But you need him to know that there’s nothing more for him to be sorry for. All you care about is that he’s present, responding, and himself. 

“Babe,” you whisper, still not believing those three words coming out of his mouth. “I’m here.” 

“I know.” He sighs, smushing into your lips and holding you so tenderly, yet so tight. As he laps at your tongue, you’re more than sure he can taste your rainfall. 

None of this is real. Because you can’t believe it at all. Even as Yoongi continues his journey across your neck, your shoulders, your jaw, your face, you still can’t piece together that this is truly happening.

When you feel him hard on your pelvis, you remember that he didn’t get the same release you got earlier. But you’re not gonna be the one to suggest going again, all of this will be what he decides. 

And what Yoongi decides is to pull you closer, breathing you in while you do the same. His kisses are never ending, and your hands roam languidly along his shoulders, his hair, stretching across the expanse of his back. One that has held the weight of the world and then some.

His name leaves your mouth in a sigh, your back arching as softly as the kisses being planted along your breasts. 

“If you only knew,” he whispers, laughing to himself as he wraps an arm around your side.

“Knew what?”

“Nothing, babe.” You gasp into his next rough press to your lips. “You’re so—fuck.”

You said you’d let him lead. But as Yoongi starts to walk you into his bedroom again, you think about his injuries and feel more concerned after knowing they’re there. So you quietly stop him as you reach his bed, “Are you sure?” 

“I’ll be alright, doll,” he whispers, lowering you down and smiling so tranquilly your heart lurches. “As much as I think you enjoyed the first time, this time will be better.” 

Giggling, you fight the heat from searing your cheeks as you smile. “You enjoyed it more than I did, I think.” 

“I don’t think so.” Yoongi smirks, getting up. “Lemme get a cond—” 

“It’s okay,” you halt him with a hand, and he freezes. 

Full stop. No movement. Not even a breath. “...What?” 

“We don’t…” You swallow, stomach fluttering at his expression. “We don’t have to this time.” 

Because Yoongi’s eyes have not left your face. “You sure?” 

Then something causes you to smile. Knowing that if there’s anyone you want to do this with, it’s this man right here and now. There’s genuinely no one else in the world with whom you would wanna share this experience, and the fact that he’s still asking makes you emotional.

Cradling his face with the most tender touch you can imagine, you confirm, “Just for a little bit.” And you add something you think he needs to keep hearing. “I trust you.” 

Gulping down any extra emotions spilling from your heart’s chalice, your words come out a little wobbled. “And I want to, if you want it, too.” 

“I want what you want, doll.” 

“Then it’s okay.”  

Clothes on or off, you still feel so shy underneath him. 

But this time, you vow to shove those feelings of unworthiness to the side. Because you are fully invested in this moment above all others. And Yoongi deserves more than you can give. 

When he slowly tugs his sweats from your legs, you’re already choking back tears. As he climbs on top, you await the connection you never in your dreams would’ve imagined. 

And when Yoongi stares at you one more time, you know exactly what he’s asking. 

“Yes, my love,” you wisp into his skin, craning up to kiss him and swallowing his last slice of doubt. Knowing you’ll say it again and again and again. 

His brows pinch as he kisses you—slow, purposeful, understanding. Then he positions himself, and you can physically feel his hand brush your cunt as he does so. If he ever asks if you felt him shake, you will deny it. But only for a year or two. 

As soon as you feel him—only him, solely him—you swell with a current of emotion. And it pulls you all the way under when he’s fully sheathed inside. 

“Holy fucking shit.” 

“Yoongi—” 

“Fuck.” 

Simply having him inside, with no barriers or obstacles in between? You’re already close. There’s no early explanation, but you already feel overwhelmed enough to come. 

No no no. You want this to last forever, so you wait for Yoongi to gather himself because he appears to be fighting, too. 

Chuckling, you ask, “You good, baby?” 

And your lover snaps his gaze to your face, bangs sweeping across your cheeks and eyes unblinking. “Yeah, just...” He stares at your inquisitive expression before whooshing out a harsh breath. “Just this is about to make me bust.” 

You burst into laughter before admitting you were just thinking the same thing, and his slow grin makes you want to cry. “We’re not good at this.” 

“No. You’re too good at this. I can’t even move.” 

“Yes, you can,” you whine. “You wreck my shit all the time.” 

Feeling a twitch more prominent than ever, you giggle as Yoongi puffs out pained amusement. “Doll, if you keep talking like that, I’m pulling out.” 

“Okay, okay,” you surrender, loving how out of sorts he seems. He’s fighting for his life and you’re enjoying the hell out of it. 

“You’re a little too perfect right now.”

Maybe one day you will agree with him. But that day is far from reach, your head shaking in quiet disagreement.

“You are.”

“Nowhere close,” you whisper.

His nose brushes against yours. “Say that again and see what happens.”

“Is that what you tell all the others fuck!”

His shove up your cunt makes you see stars. “What did I fuckin’ say?” 

“What—”

Another launch has you careening through space, lip bitten and suppressing a hearty whine. “You think there’s someone else?” Again. “Hmm?” 

Again. 

You’re so dazed and mind-fucked to pieces that your speech is barely audible. But your chin is grabbed as you’re snapped straight, and your eyes try their hardest to focus on slitted ones above. “You’re gonna regret saying that.” 

You just laugh, whine pinging sharp into the ceiling as he shoves forward so hard your whole body shifts upward. “Oh, yeah?” 

Yoongi doesn’t respond with words, thrusting up again and sending you twisting and winding towards the edge unbelievably fast. “Uh huh.” 

“Make me then,” you gasp out. “Make me really sorry.” 

The sound Yoongi makes comes from deep within his stomach, the rumbling hum shooting right into your veins like liquid fire. 

And the full-on attack he bursts into renders you completely speechless. Everything Yoongi does pulls you deliciously in all directions—his thrusts, his chain hitting his chest, his grip on your wrists, the way he snags your chin. Everything. 

“Taking me so well like this.” 

“I—”

“So fucking tight.”

Fuck fuck fuck it’s habitual for you at this point, and you unhinge your jaw a split second before he smacks the side of your face. Desire lowers your lids halfway as you feel empowered, and you don’t even recognize your voice as you order him on the spot. “Do it again.” 

Yoongi doesn’t stop his pace as he keeps his eyes on you. 

“Do it again,” you growl, fully limp and a groaning mess when he does exactly what you want. 

Fuck, the pain feels good. So good that you reach up and choke him out. But the back of your head is grabbed before you feel hungry lips smash into yours. You feel your wrists pinned again by one large palm, air chilling for a moment before a hot mouth captures one of your nipples. “Oh, fuck, Yoongi!” 

“Uh uh.” 

“Please—please—” 

You’re still tensing as he devours your chest below his shirt, strokes now slower but just as powerful. 

Your arms still haven’t been freed, but there’s something about being under his control that has you loving this position. Without question. Maybe it’s the fact that you can see him now, losing himself just as he saw you washes in the throes of passion. 

And he licks, sucks, lolls his tongue all over your tits, whispered praises sinking through your bosom as he keeps a grip on your wrists. 

“Baby,” you gasp. “I’m close, I’m—” 

“Shit.” Air whooshes over you before you feel your arms freed and him yank himself out, and you freeze as he unloads right on your stomach, a sharp cocktail of pride and shock in your gut. 

Holy fuck, Yoongi was that close? Did he hold out as long as he could? Shit, he’s breathing so hard his jewelry shakes as it dangles. 

You’re still so surprised that your arms are still locked into bends, and he glances up at you from his kneeled state. “Fuck,” he laughs, and is that… Is Yoongi shy? “Thought I could hold out.” 

“No, no, it’s fine,” you assure through your own tiny chuckle. “Oh my god, I promise.” 

He leans down to plant a heart fluttering kiss on your lips, but you hate how he looks pained on the way down. 

Those hits he took… Now you kinda understand his perspective. Because now you want to avenge him in five hundred thousand ways—almost half as many ways as you want to show him how you feel. 

“Stay there, beautiful,” Yoongi orders as he moves to get off the bed, wincing in passes. “I’m not done with you.” 

Damn. He looks even more exhausted than before. “Baby, are you sure?” 

But Yoongi walks right to his bathroom to retrieve a towel, and your eyes may as well transform into hearts when you watch him come back to you. So handsome, even now. Even when he’s simply holding a washcloth, hair completely mussed, soul sparkling and face bruised. 

As he sits to clean your face before moving to your stomach, you can only observe his eyes. So experienced. Calm. At peace. When they drift to yours, it’s instinct that has you shying away. “What, love.” 

Another reason to crumble inside. “I just… nothing,” you whisper. 

And Yoongi finishes with the cloth before tossing it somewhere. “Tell me,” he says, lying down on the ribs with more damage. “I wanna know.” 

“Come on this side,” you tell him, and he obliges without a word. “It’s a secret.” 

“A secret?” 

“Mmhmm.” 

Yoongi settles before lifting your chin, rubbing an affectionate thumb over any tears still persevering on your cheeks. “I can keep those, you know.” 

Smiling, you fold way too easily. “Okay, I’ll tell.” 

When he leans in, your nervousness and excitement to tell him almost spoils your ability to do so. Like someone gifting a present while wanting to say what it is before it’s even opened. 

“I love you, too,” you whisper, tears sprinting to your ducts as Yoongi freezes. When he looks at you, you can’t help but choke on a sob seeing his eyes get as red as the marks on his cheek. “And you deserve more than I could ever give.” 

His eyes hold the heavens and the seas. 

You’re right. Just saying it isn’t fucking enough.

You’re already liplocked again before you can think, saltwater on your face and you don’t even know whose eyes it came from.

Determined, Yoongi starts kissing a trail from your lips to your jaw, and you start to cry as he makes his own journey down the expanse of you. 

All of you.

Is this what it feels like? Is all of this actually, genuinely real?

You hope so, because you feel devotion in each press of his lips, and every touch will be remembered in its own right. Its own pocket of time.

Every single stop.

It almost feels divine when his mouth reaches your folds, lapping at your essence and swirling around your clit. When you say his name, Yoongi says nothing, instead palming your thighs and eating you out like he has all the time in the world. 

Swelling, you already feel close. 

But the way he gets you to fantasia is so natural that you slide into your quivers seemlessly. The transition into your heaven flows like a stream, and your waves engulf his tongue and coat his mouth without trouble. 

This is what it feels like. What it feels like with Yoongi. 

And you wanna keep making love until only sleep can take you from him.

Your hands jut into his hair, gasping as he keeps his pace, and no matter how you squirm he is dead set on holding you down until holy fuck you’re coming again. 

How? What’s happening to you? This constant stream of release is shocking you to the point of crying out, and Yoongi groans into your orgasm and prolongs it with the whole press of his tongue.

“Holy fuck, baby—!” Another wave overcomes the next, and you outright quake in his hands, eyes rolling and vision blinking white. Muscles lock as you can’t keep up with the pleasure, and you’re mercilessly let go only for lips to descend on yours.

Your tears spill into your ears as you kiss him back, wrapping tired arms over his shoulders and raking in deep. 

“Fuck.” And you feel his cock lodge against your entrance, and you’re amazed how hard he is again. 

Does he want what you want? Is he ready again? 

As Yoongi quietly gets up to get a condom, you’re amazed that he wants to keep going after everything that’s transpired. But, if he feels like you do, he’s ready to keep going until the sun comes up three whole times. 

When he sits next to you, your better half appears shy as he bites the wrapper. “Don’t take this the wrong way.”

“Oh, I already know.”

“K. But god, I fuckin’ want to.”

You bite your lip to hold back your smile, remembering what he said a long time ago and bringing it back full circle for the next thing you both wanna try. “One day.”

Yoongi only grins. 

And for the next hour, your lover, your secret, your home gives you everything he has, and you come for him more times than you ever have in your life.

Every time, he drags your pleasure out, expertly tearing you down with his movements and building your confidence up with his words. He tells you you’re perfect, and he disagrees when you disagree. When you find tears on your face, he kisses those away, too. When you feel along his silver, he simply watches you in silence. 

No sadness, doubt, nor anger to be found. 

After you physically can’t do any more, Yoongi lies at your side, silent as you play with his hair. You do your best to stay still, not wanting to accidentally push into any of his injuries that you’re gonna beg him to get checked in the morning. 

Once he’s healed? That’s when you’ll never let go. Because you want to crush him into you completely. Mold into him, just so he can feel the brevity of your highest affection. 

“I’m sorry for yelling,” you finally whisper. “But I really was so mad at you. All of you.” 

“I know.” 

“I don’t wanna lose you.”

“It won’t happen again.” 

“That’s what you said last time.” 

Yoongi stares, seeming to withhold something from you before he palms your cheek. “They were gonna follow us home if we didn’t, babe,” he reveals, snapping your heart back in two. “We all knew that.” 

“Oh, fuck.” Everything hits you at once: why they stayed, why you and Taehyung had to leave. Why Tae didn’t bring you straight back to the house. And the burns at your eyes match the searing in your gut. “I didn’t… I didn’t think about that.” 

When you start to cry, Yoongi sits up and hangs his head between his sweats. “You don’t need to think about shit like that,” he murmurs, sounding defeated as ever. “But we talked after you told us off. We won’t hide that from you anymore.” 

Sniffling, you whisper out a thank you. But you don’t want Yoongi to feel like he has to distance himself, so you untangle him—slowly, gently–-before bringing him into your chest. 

After dealing with all that and the tempest in his living room, this man still let you in. From the looks of things, there’s a lot that he had been fighting, and you’re more than appreciative that he opened his door. Not knowing how to put these feelings into words, you say the first things that come to mind. And for some reason, they feel heavier on the way out, 

“Thank you for letting me in. It was raining really hard.” 

Yoongi stiffens hard before holding you closer. 

“Babe?”

No response. Just another batch of weighted quiet. 

Worried, you tilt your head. “Hey. Look at me.”

If he stays right where he is, you’ll have to respect that decision. But he ends up pushing himself up, and as soon as you see moonlight catch on a falling tear, all your instincts reach for him, “Oh, fuck, come here.”

You surround him with everything you have, wanting every single bit of warmth birthed from his love to fill his space instead of yours. Whatever he needs, you will give. “It’s okay, baby,” you whisper, holding him so close but not nearly close enough. 

Never close enough.

His face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you will let him live there whenever he needs to. “I’m not mad anymore, okay?” God, you hate how he’s still so silent. You get it, but you hate whatever made him default to this state. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

After light rain fills the room, your soul breaks at a sniffle, and you crush your love even tighter.

“This isn’t about that, doll,” Yoongi finally whispers, burying wet eyes further into your shoulder. “It’s just…”

It’s what? What’s he thinking about? Hopefully it’s not anything—

“It’s so fucking better when you’re here.” 

When you choke out a sob, his body locks, words pouring from nowhere and everywhere. “I sleep better. Eat better. Fuck, I even feel better even if nothing else changes.”

“Yoongi…”

“It’s true.” Sighing, he sniffles again before letting his weight drop onto you in resignation. Or relief. “I mean that.”

“Then… Those three months…”

“One day, I’ll tell you everything,” he offers, making you wonder what the hell he’s been through in the past. And if it has something to do with that guitar he smashed to pieces. “But from now on, you can be here whatever you want.” 

Many things have shifted tonight. As if an earthquake had upturned everything between the both of you, only peace has settled in its wake. A peace you had never felt before. As you brush fingers through his hair, you joke, “So I can come to those parties you host, too?” 

“Those weren’t my idea, by the way. Jimin made me.” Kissing your shoulder, Yoongi continues to admit, “He was worried. And hoping you would show.”

Oh. That’s news to you. 

“I knew you wouldn’t. But.” He exhales before nestling in further. “I did hope to see you, too.” 

“It’s okay.” You rub the back of his neck, your fingers feeling nothing but warmth and the softness of his clothes. “It would’ve been too obvious.”

“What would’ve.”

“That I wanted you all to myself.”

“You already have that.”

When you stiffen, your words are tiny. “You know what I mean.”

Yoongi laughs soft, taking one of your hands in his and bringing it up for a kiss as you blurt, “My brother was the one that invited me. To come to those, I mean.”

The way he blinks is comical. “Huh.”

“I know.” It’s your turn to bring his hand close, kissing along his knuckles before you stare out the window behind him. “It makes me wonder if he knows.”

“What if he does?”

You snap your eyes right to his. “Does he?”

Yoongi watches your lips linger on his fingers before he tells the truth, “No.”

“Okay. But you’re sure I can stay?” 

“Who do you think you bought those groceries for?” 

Oh. Wait. “What?” 

Grinning so sly, Yoongi reveals the plan he had all along, “I get you for a week, right?”

Oh. Holy shit. You cannot quite possibly deal with what this man is saying. That whole time you were shopping for his list… No wonder he was already done with dinner when you got there oh you’re gonna get him back for that. 

Light bursts from your center as you grit out through a grin, “You sneaky little—” Pulling his tilted mouth in for another kiss, your heart pulses little pink stars as he leans in with a laugh, and you meet lips again and again until he slowly, reluctantly stops. 

“One day,” he murmurs out of nowhere, and you flick your eyes to his. “I’ll be better.”

Of course he will. You have no doubts. But, just like he always does for you, you’re gonna start offering the same reassurance out loud, even if he knows it’s there. 

And you can’t contain your little laughs at your own joke, despite him just staring into your face right after you crack it, “Don’t make it just one day, silly.” 

Even if you’re very serious, it’s in your nature to lighten things up. Especially after hearing such wonderful news for what’s coming. Clutching a little bit of his shirt, you whisper with complete devotion, 

“We’ll make it as many as we can.”

You hate how you feel him freeze, knowing what that means, what plaguing little thoughts are embedded in that tiny shift. 

Yoongi’s still hesitant to accept.

Because you are, too. In many ways. But this man has been picking you up and making you stronger day after day—in both his presence and absence—that you can’t help but fight to do the same. 

Does he ever think about you? Does he know that you’ll always be with him? No matter how close or far apart you are? You hope so. Because it’s so true that your heart is searing that promise into your soul, branding it as a reminder to reciprocate all this genuine love you’ve never been given before.

He loves you?

You still can’t accept that as fact.

…Maybe one day.

You chuckle to yourself, deciding to keep talking because Yoongi is still so very quiet. “At least. Until the day I get to meet my cat,” you huff in triumph. “Then I’m running away with her.”

It’s a perfect strike of a match. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You pretend to pout. “But I’m starting to think she ran away already and you won’t fess up.”

Yoongi laughs so suddenly you flinch. After a playful scoff, he tries to make you feel better, “She’s still here!”

“Lies.”

“How much are you betting, doll.”

“How much are you willing to lose, babe.”

“This much,” he finally says, pinching your sides and hissing laughter when you scream. “Maybe I’ll make you leave after all if you’re gonna be a problem.” 

“You did threaten to kick me out before.” 

“Huh? When?”

“That day I showed up,” you remind him through a chuckle. Thrown back to that first night, you start to see all the parallels between then and now. And how vastly different things have become. “Said you were gonna kick me out for hustling you.” 

The glorious laughter from the depths of his belly makes you grin, and you cringe when his brows pinch in both laughter and pain. “I should’ve!” 

He needs to get those hits healed. “You really should’ve.” 

“Played me from the very start. You happy with yourself?” When you nod, Yoongi shakes his head. “Course you are.” 

“You love it.” 

“I do.” Your eyes meet, which proves dangerous for you because he bites his smirk before pulling you in for a kiss. “Thought I was gonna say it, huh.” 

“No!” You lie. Because no, you certainly were not! “…Maybe.” 

“Guess what.” 

Suddenly paranoid, you give him a look, already expecting to be tricked again. 

But Yoongi captures your lips without warning, curling your toes into sheets you’re now achingly familiar with. After a few passes, he shifts above, planting a hand at your side and letting his chain slide against your chest as he slots a leg in between yours. 

Yet again, you think about that first night, that first time. The first of apparently, surprisingly, wonderfully unexpectedly many. 

Who would’ve thought rain and a broken ego would bloom into something good? Who would’ve believed a person so close to your roots would be your home? 

As he lets up with one last slow stroke of his tongue, you whisper, “What were you gonna say?” 

At this, Yoongi spreads closed lips, taking his time planting a peck on your nose. “I just fucking love you, doll.” 

Oh. He’s a menace and the most annoying tease on the planet. 

When you can’t do anything but flee into his chest, Yoongi immediately laughs, forcing you back out of your little shell. “You can’t hide now, babe.” 

“I can!” 

Leaned forward in your struggle, you give him no choice but to swoop his head into your neck. Which backfires on you immensely because he decides it’s the perfect time to rasp deep against your ear, “I love fucking you, too.” 

His name flies out of your mouth in disbelief and embarrassment, and his heightened amusement puffs into the burning column below your chin. 

This is the moment something comes over you. Slams into you. Washes you in present nostalgia like lingering footsteps on a balcony. 

And it hurts. It really, really hurts. 

Instead of laughing along, you come down from your high, squeezing him like the pillow that couldn’t replicate his warmth for months. “I miss you.”

After a second, Yoongi questions, “How? I’m right here.”

You know that. You do. But with every hello there’s a goodbye, and you don’t want that this time. Especially now that your heart knows that his beats the same. 

Breathy and shaken, you rest your head in his chest, hoping he doesn’t hear but does at the same time, “I still miss you.”

Strong fingers weakly press into your sides, and while you can’t see him, you know for a fact that his smile is gone. Because he also knows goodbye is coming again, and you can’t stay here forever as long as this is all a secret. 

You feel a sigh wisp over your head before words that make no fucking sense follow it out, “I can’t do shit like this anymore.” 

…What?

No. No no no he can’t be done just like that you both just confessed everything you need to fight say something anything anything—

“I wanna do this the right way.” 

Oh. 

Yoongi’s chest… It’s shaking. 

Pushing yourself up, you search his eyes for answers. “What are you saying?” 

When he looks at you, there’s a fire in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Or maybe it has been there all along, and he only needed a spark to set it ablaze. “I’m saying I’ll tell him, doll. Just me.” 

Oh. Oh, shit. Didn’t he say not yet? Didn’t he say he needs more time? He said he’d figure it out what is with the sudden…

Your tears are automatic as Yoongi roams his gaze from one eye to the other, and he’s swallowing before taking a step. A step you didn’t think he’d make. One you didn’t have the courage to take yourself. 

When he utters the words, your soul lets rain fall just as the storm resides.

And right as moonlight shines through his blinds.

“I’ll tell him everything.” 

-

-

tbc. :)

-

so... how did it go! | join the server!

a/n: so. here we are, over two years and 250k+ words later. thank you for sticking with me if you're still here, and thank you for being the most amazing readers a writer could ever, ever ask for. if you can interact or let me know what you enjoyed/like, i would be eternally grateful. these two parts took all of me, and i'm gonna take a break for a little bit before starting on the next part. a/n 2: thank you for also being here despite the highs and lows! things have really weighed on me for awhile, which prevented me from working on this part forreal. but my mental feels a lot lighter now, and i am ready to keep running with y'all. so thank you for your support and encouragement, no matter how you show it! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

#AHHH it's finally here! #bts fic #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts fanfic #ryenwrites #*ryenfictalk #yoongi fic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi x you #yoongi smut #bts smut #yoongi x reader #3tan12 #*latest

[xrcs]

sub gyutaro + dom reader

author’s note – i like deadass forgot about demon slayer until the new ep came out yesterday 🤦🏾‍♂️.. but here i am writing for it

content warnings – talk of insecurities. mirror sex. handjob. uncut gyu. nipple play. self harm. soft porn again. L word used???

Mirrors. Gyutaro despises his reflection, breaking each one he sees. Why? Why did he have to be made like this? Were the gods furious at him? Gyutaro wanted to shatter every bone that protruded from his frame. You always see how he treats himself. It was almost as if he was immune to self-care.

You wish you could understand what was going on in his mind. Watching as he scratched his skin off every time he got mad at himself over little things. Warm crimson blood oozed out of the cuts he made from his continuous scratching.

“Jesus Christ, Gyutaro! Stop that, please,” you wince, his tired yellow eyes glancing at you. Gyutaro’s hand hovers over his wounded neck, chest feeling heavy.

“And why do you care?” he scoffs. Gyutaro turns his back on you and walks into another room. Why is it that he hates himself? You follow his footsteps slowly, trying your best not to anger him. But it’s also infuriating seeing Gyutaro degrade himself and his worth.

You sigh as you notice him breaking down. He’s facing the wall, gripping his hair tightly. It’s saddening. His behavior makes you want to cry for him. Gyutaro’s sniffles and sobs become increasingly louder. You approach him and hug him. Your loving embrace soothes him. His tense shoulders drop while he turns to look at you.

Your lips hover over the shell of his ear, “Gyutaro. I want to understand you. Please, let me know what’s goin’ on,” He doesn’t respond to your concern. You’re just going to have to make him feel better. Your soft and plush hands snake down his torso. Fingertips grazing his bony flesh. Gyutaro’s lips let out a small gasp as he feels himself heating up from the contact.

He was never used to being treated well. Even being protected was a taboo thing to him. Gyutaro loathes everyone except you. You’re different. You’ve never judged him for looking a certain way. That’s why he loves you. You’re kind, loving, caring, and so much more. Gyutaro loses himself in your touch, eyes fluttering shut.

“Get up,” you whisper. Gyutaro follows your request and stands up. You wrap your hand around his wrist and guide him to the vanity mirror. The first emotion that washes over Gyutaro is disgust. His repugnance only grew once he saw how skeletal he was. All of his self-hating thoughts came back again.

You observe his body language. That same sickened expression was on his face. You let your hands explore his body this time. The left teases his pec area while the right goes to other places. Gyutaro’s heart rate increases as you touch him so lewdly. He can feel the tent growing in his sweatpants.

His chest feels light when you touch him.

“Look at yourself. I want you to realize how handsome you are,” you utter. You slowly take off Gyutaro’s sweats, his semi-hard cock springing out. Another small gasp comes from his lips, his member twitching in anticipation. You press light kisses onto his nape, nibbling occasionally.

You rub your palm on his bulbous tip, rolling your wrist. A series of moans slip past Gyutaro’s mouth. Pre-cum starts to leak out from his tip. You stroke his whole length, lubricating his cock with the sticky substance. His eyes close while trying to take in all the pleasure.

You abruptly stop and firmly say, “Look into the mirror. Now,” Gyutaro whimpers as he opens his eyes, watching himself getting pleasured. Your other hand pinches his nipple, rolling it between your thumb and pointer.

“Haah, fuck! W-Why do you want me.. ngh- to look at myself in the m-mirror?” Gyutaro questions, arching his back as your touches become more intense. That question will be answered later when he figures it out. Your hand slowly fondles his cock. With every stroke you give, his foreskin covers his tip. The delicious brush of the skin on his tip makes his head spin.

He can’t help but look away. Does he really deserve the pleasure you’re giving him? As he turns his head to the side, your hand assertively keeps it in place. Your eyes burn into his face while you do so. You flick his dark grey nipple, making him yelp. All this touching is making his mind all muddly.

You stop stroking his dick, leaving your hand in the same position. He starts to buck his hips into your fist. God, this is your favorite sight to see. Him fucking your fist like an animal, chasing his own pleasure. You continue to pinch his nipple, creating a more blissful experience from Gyutaro. Waves of satisfaction ripple through his body.

“Look at you, Gyu. So pretty becoming undone. You’re perfect,” you state, smiling as you watch his eyes roll back into his head. He’s getting close. You move your hand around his cock at a fast pace, forcing him to look at himself.

Tears fall down his face from your compliments. You really think he’s pretty? Perfect? More pretty moans and whimpers come from Gyutaro. The coil in his stomach is about to snap. The roll of your wrist as you stroke his cock makes his mouth water. His eyes feel heavy, eyelashes clumping together from the tears.

“F-fuck! ‘M gonna cum.. cum! Lemme cum, pleasepleaseplease,” Gyutaro moans, voice cracking as drool slips past his lips. You smirk as you feel his body twitch as you play with his nipples.

“You’re so handsome, so perfect for me,” you mutter. Gyutaro feels like he’s going to break. The pleasure keeps on building up and it’s getting stronger by the second. Your praise is just too much!

“I love you, Gyutaro,”

His cock twitches as you mumble those words in his ear. Thick, hot, white ropes spurt out his cock. His eyes roll back as his head falls onto your shoulder. Your left hand comes up to pat his head, soothing him as he comes down from his high. God, what has he done to deserve you? You always make him feel so secure. Even with himself.

You wait patienly for his breathing to slow down. Humming and playing with his hair as you do.

Once he does, he sits up. His head between your thighs.

“You have no flaws, Gyu. Say or do some stupid shit again and you’ll see what happens,” you vocalize, giving him a small kiss. He nods and turns around to look at you.

“I appreciate you. I.. love you too,”

XRCS 2023

#gyutaro. #gyuutaro x reader #gyutaro smut #kny smut #kny gyutaro #demon slayer smut #anime smut #dom reader #sub character #anime x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #XRCS.

[angelicsoka]

SARA, l. hughes

word count | 1.3k

pairings | luke hughes x fem!reader, platonic!quinn hughes x reader, platonic!jack hughes x reader

summary | luke’s girlfriend has suffered in silence for too long, and luke noticed the warning signs too late

warnings | HEAVY themes of suicide and suicidal ideation, mentions of self-harm and depression, underage drinking and smoking, mentions of blood. ANGST ANGST ANGST, open ending, this is not a happy fic, luke is fucking oblivious. based on the song sara by we three. no use of "y/n". lowercase intended

a/n | this is my first time posting in here so i'm still figuring out how this all works lol. this is NOT proofread. also this is probably the darkest thing i have ever really written.

little sara, you're a diamond in the rough

and i know that you don't hear this all enough

and i'm sure that's why your wrists have tons of cuts

and i'm sure that's why you think you're not enough

fingers traced over the faded scars and onto the raised ones, the urge more than she can handle. but she deserved this. she deserved to feel so shitty, she was shitty. she ruined everything good she had, her relationships and job. a repeated process, be happy for a while and then fuck everything up. “who would care if she fucked one more thing?” was the thought that ran through her head, crimson covering the sink.

your mind can only think about the things it shouldn't

your brain is filled with thoughts of wishing that ya didn't

little sara, perk your ears up, try to listen

but she can't hear a sound because she's locked in a prison

the room was loud, but the noise sounded so far away as she dazed off. she was brought back to reality by luke swinging his arm over her shoulder, pulling her close. the sudden movement made her quietly hiss as her arm brushed against him, the fresh wounds in the back of her mind. she forced a smile on her face, looking to luke who gently kissed her forehead. he offered her a beer, to which she took, ignoring the concerned look on quinn’s face. she had been drinking all night  but luke didn't have to know that. it slowed the thoughts, so how could it be a bad thing?

luke began to chat with his brothers and their friends, oblivious to the smile that had dropped from her face. oblivious to the fact that she was practically chugging the beer in hopes to stop the horrible thoughts that had begun to invade her brain once more.

and she was oblivious to the concerned looks of her boyfriend and friends as she abruptly got up, walking outside. she sat down, pulling the cigarette from its box, lighting it. she took a drag, jumping when a voice spoke up:

“you’re killing yourself, you know that?” she whipped her head around to see quinn standing there with his hands in his pockets. “does luke know you smoke?”

“why do you care?” she snapped, turning to look back at the yard. it was quiet, crickets chirping being the only thing making noise. she ignored quinn as he sat beside her, taking another drag. she held back her tears, not wanting to break down in front of her boyfriend’s oldest brother.

“he loves you, you know? the way he looks at you says it all. you're good for him. i don’t think i've seen him this happy in a long time.” she forced a small smile at quinn’s attempt to comfort her. he was lying, he had to be, because who could love a fuck up like her?

all your friends they wanna smoke 'cause it's a friday

but you've been smoking straight probably since last sunday

i know you know you shouldn't say that you are okay

but you still look 'em in the eye and lie then go to use your ashtray

she was high, but when was she not? the boys passed around the blunt, each taking drags from it. they were joking around, jack and trevor wrestling beside her. luke held her close, his fingers gently running down her arm. she ignored the burning sensation that occurred when luke’s fingers accidentally brushed over her wound, a smile plastered on her face. luke seemed to be the only who didn’t notice that the smile didn’t meet her eyes. she huffed out a laugh at a joke made by cole, settling her head against luke’s shoulder. for a moment, she felt happy; carefree. 

that all ended when that singular thought crossed her mind: they hate you. such a simple thought, but she felt as though she had been sucker punched. she subtly shifted off of luke, who seemingly didn’t notice. she twiddled with her thumbs, ignoring the feeling of someone looking at her. she felt jack nudge her, handing her the blunt. she accepted it, unable to really meet his eyes. “you okay?” quinn mouthed to her when she met his eyes. 

“yeah.” she lied through her teeth, averting her eyes and grabbing the ashtray.

little sara, last night, you got it bad

in that moment, you could barely even

add up two or three reasons why you're glad

and i guess that's why you grabbed your pen and pad

it was 6:14, and you could barely even read

all the words you'd written down when it was time for you to leave

your phone was on the ground and you could barely hear it ring

couldn't even hear a sound, couldn't feel a single thing

nights were the worst. being alone in her thoughts led to serious consequences, this night no different. she did what she was suppose to, all the coping skills she had learned. still, she couldn’t come up with any reason to stick around, which is why she now sat at her desk, scribbling rapidly. she couldn’t hardly read the words on the paper, tears cascading down her rosy cheeks as she practically destroyed her desk in search of the blade. the distance sound of her phone ringing stopped her for a moment, the contact name and picture for luke clear on her phone. she pushed the second-guessing thoughts aside, muting the call.

luke swore when she once again did not pick up, the text that started this now open: i love you, lukey. i hope you can forgive me. he swore to himself, angry that he had missed the signs. as he thought about it, the signs were so clear, how could he have not noticed? he begged for jack to drive faster, dialing her number once more. luke wiped his tears as jack sped up, praying for her to be okay. he hoped he would make it in time, to be there when she needed him most.

now it's 6:15, and you're on your knees

blood is on your sleeves, and your lungs won't breathe

eyes are watering, body's shivering

and you're wondering what is happening

now it's 6:23, and they're on their knees

begging "jesus please, can you make her breathe?"

'cause they finally see what was happening

underneath their nose and underneath your sleeves 

she sat against her bed, sobs racking through her body. her chest was tight, her breaths short as she began to lose consciousness. she began to shiver uncontrollably, curling into herself to create any kind of warmth. she looked up when the door was kicked in, her vision blurring. her eyes fluttered close as luke ran to her side, her life slowly leaving her body. 

“get something to stop the bleeding!” luke yelled to jack who was frozen under the doorframe. he snapped out of it, grabbing the blanket that was balled up on her bed. he began to put pressure on her wounds as luke pleaded with her to wake up. they continued this until the paramedics arrived, luke hesitant to leave her side. for the first time in a long time, luke cried into his brother’s shoulder. and he swore to himself that he would never miss the signs again.

she can barely see the pavement

she can barely read the signs

people think she's complicated

but never wanna look inside

'cause she's a little too r-rated

and they're a little too damn blind

she's just looking for her angels

but they're a little hard to find

#nhl #nhl imagine #luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #new jersey devils #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #sara by we three #angelicsoka #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #hughes brothers

[nayomi247]

Save a horse, Ride a cowboy𐚁

(My version)

A/N: @heart-of-the-morningstar has inspired me to do my own version of the save a horse ride a cowboy smut that she posted, so this is a full one shot. Make sure you guys go visit @bat-boness and give them love and support. As this fic was based off of their drawings. This also is based off the game Red Dead Redemption 2 because that's the only way I'll be able to format this and make it look good. (TAKES PLACE AROUND THE SAME TIME RDR2 DOES)

Pairing: Cowboy! Outlaw! Lucifer/F!Reader

Contents: Smut, established relationship, p in v sex, bondage, biting, orgasm denial, dirty talk, sub Lucifer, light angst, cowgirl position, spanking, hand jobs, dom and sub undertones, blow jobs, praise kink, Lucifer for once isn't short (only because of his boots lol)

‼️DISCLAIMER‼️: THIS ALSO IS NOT PROOF READ, IT'S SOMETHING I THREW TOGETHER IN THE SPAN OF A FEW HOURS

As always, work under the cut🤞🏻

Your husband, Lucifer, wasn't always the kindest man. Of course he was to you, but others weren't quite as lucky. There'd been multiple times where he'd come home with blood covering his hands and shirt.

Though it wasn't something you liked particularly, you still loved your husband, despite all the wrong he'd done in the world.

So there you sat in your shared kitchen, waiting for him to get home. It was well after the time he normally got back. You assumed the job just took a bit longer to handle.

But as time went on, you started to get more worried. He'd never taken this long before. You stood up from your chair, completely forgetting about the plate infront of you and walked over to the door. There, you slipped on your boots and went to grab the door handle.

As soon as you turned the knob and went to walk out, you immediately stopped. There stood Lucifer, coughing and dusting off his muddy clothes, not even noticing that the door has opened and you were standing there. His eyes finally moved up to meet yours.

He smiled brightly. "Oh, my love-" He started, then confusing took over as you leaped at him, almost pushing him off the porch.

"Where the hell were you!?" You practically cried. He fumbled back, both confusion and worry washed over his face. "Honey, what are you-" He started once again, but you had cut him off. "You know exactly what I'm talking about Lucifer. I waited for hours! I thought you were dead, or stranded somewhere!" Tears threatened to roll down your cheeks.

Realization finally hit him and he knew he had fucked up. "L-Listen, the job took longer than I was expecting, but I got out fine, see?" He spinned around, showing that he didn't have a single scratch anywhere. "And," He said, reaching into his satchel. "I brought home a lot of money." He smiled, hoping that would be enough for an apology.

You sighed. You were still annoyed, but glad he was okay. "Go inside." You said, stepping to the side to let him in. "Of course my dear." He said with the stupid, but handsome smirk he'd always use when he got his way. As he moved past you, he placed a kiss to your head. You swatted at him and he laughed, walking over to the coat rack.

"Your food is probably cold." You said, picking up the plate and walking over to place it on the stove top. You were one of the few lucky places to get electricity at this point in time. You walk back over to where you had previously sat. He stood by the door, taking off his boots and jacket, now left in black jeans and a red collared over shirt.

He walked over to the table, sitting in his designated spot, across from you. There you sat, looking like your mind was running a mile a minute. Silence filled the room for a few minutes. Lucifer was becoming more nervous with every ticking of the clock. No one spoke, except for him.

"I'm sorry." He said. You looked up to him, for the first time since he sat down. He looked guilty, and you felt a bit bad. You flashed him a small smile, which calmed his nerves a bit. "Go upstairs." You commanded, and he immediately knew what you meant by that.

"S-sweetheart-" He fumbled over his speech, trying to convince you that he didn't deserve this. "Now." You said sternly. He got up from his seat with a nod, then made his way upstairs.

You sat there for a moment longer before you grabbed cleaned up and started up the stairs as well. You made your way down the hall to your shared room, the floor boards creaked loudly with every step.

You walked up to the door, stopping for a second before turning the handle and stepping in. You looked over to the bed, and there sat your beautiful husband. He looked like a mess.

You couldn't help but pity him. He smiled nervously at seeing you enter. His thumbs twiddled together to keep himself somewhat calm. "H-Hello, my love." He said. You made your way over to him, placing a hand on each side of him and leaning in for a kiss. He allowed you to do so, groaning a bit at the way your tongues danced together.

You found him following your face, more like chasing your lips once you pulled away. You smiled at him, and he made his best attempt to smile back.

"I assume you know what's going on Luci?" You asked him. He slowly nodded in response. "Good," you continued. "Take everything off, I'll get your rope." You pulled away, walking over to a dresser on the other side of the room. As you rummaged through the drawer, you heard the sound of clothes hit the floor. The thought of how he looked made you sweat.

You turned around, rope in hand. You slowly made your way back over to the bed where he sat again, this time clothesless. Except for the white hat that sat atop his head.

Your gaze made its way to in-between his thighs, there laid his half hard cock. You smiled to yourself and brung the ropes to his now together wrists, then tied them above his head.

"Too tight?" You asked, pulling at the restraints lightly. "No." He said. "It's okay." You pulled yourself back and threw the rope towards the dresser, leaving the mess for later. You leaned into him again, using one hand to cradle his cheek, the other to stroke his hard on.

He moaned into your mouth and bucked his hips up into your hand. You immediately pulled away. He whined at the loss. "You should know better sweetheart." You stated, and he mumbled an apology. You brought yourself down so you sat right infront of his cock. You looked up before taking your tongue and licking from the base to the tip.

He whimpered and tossed his head back. "F-fuck angel.." satisfied with this reaction, you brought yourself down completely onto him, his tip hit the back of your throat. He moaned loudly and squeezed his eyes shut. You set a steady pace as you bobbed your head up and down pulling a variety of sounds from his throat.

You felt his cock begin to twitch in your mouth. He was close. "Shit-! D-don't stop, please, please don't." Right as you felt he was about to release, you pulled off, leaving him a mess and unsatisfied.

He whined like a child and groaned. You grabbed where the rope was connected to the top of the bed and untied it. He thought you were letting him go but boy was he wrong, very wrong.

"Scoot back." You instructed. He reluctantly did what you said, still whining about being denied. Once he was by the headboard, you tied him up once again, but now he was more comfortable.

He sprawled himself out before you, showing every part of his beautiful pale body. You got off the bed and started to take your clothes off as well. Once you were naked, as he was, you got back up onto the bed.

Sat on your knees infront of him and leaned forward, grabbing his hat off his head and placing it on your own. "So pretty." He praised as you brought your hand down to your pussy and slid your fingers in between your wet folds. Lucifer couldn't help but be in a trance at the sight infront of him. You were so beautiful, you could make him cum just by the way you looked at him.

You pulled your fingers away. They were now covered in your slick. You took those fingers, and placed them in Lucifer's mouth to suck, which he gratefully did. He moaned at the taste of you, wanting nothing more than to eat you out till you couldn't think straight.

Keeping your fingers in his mouth, you crawled your way up so you hovered right above his hips. Without a second thought, you slammed down onto him. He cried out, biting down on your fingers and squeezing his eyes shut.

You moaned too, his tip hitting your g-spot perfectly. "Good boy.." you whispered, bringing your free hand to run your hand down his chest. "You look so pretty like this." His cheeks flushed and you smiled warmly at him.

He bucked his hips up, and in response, you brought your hand down to his thigh, hard. This resulted in him crying out. You pulled your fingers out of his mouth, refusing to move.

He began to plead with you. He already was denied before, he couldn't handle this too. "Please baby," he whined "Please please please, I promise I'll be good. I'm so so sorry angel. Please fuck me."

Seeing him such a pleading mess infront of you turned you on more than anything could. You did as he asked and slowly sat up, feeling him drag inside you before slamming down again. This continued, moans and other sounds coming from you both. You quickly began to speed up.

"Yes yes yes yes, don't stop." He cried, "W-wanna touch you." Sweat dripped down his features as he tried everything he could to get loose.

You yourself also felt that coil starting to tighten, your pace brutal and quick. You had to bring a hand to your head to make sure the hat stayed on. "S-shit Luci, gonna.. cum." You said, tossing your head back in pleasure. "So, close.." You both said, each orgasm hitting at the same time. Your body shook and he rutted into you, a deep groan coming from his chest as hot ropes of his cum painted your insides.

You collapsed onto him, still having tiny spurts from the after-effects. His gasps as well as your pants could be heard. After about a minute or so, you sat up and smiled weakly at him. He did the same. You leaned down and grabbed him by his face.

"Promise me that you'll never keep me waiting like that again, okay?" You said sternly. He loved when you were dominant. "Yes darling." He whispered and you placed a peck to his lips before grabbing his wrists and untying him.

His arms shot out towards you, and pulled you down onto his chest, the hat falling off in the process. He peppered your face with kisses, holding you so tight that you couldn't get up even if you wanted too.

You giggled and laid your head on his chest, his cock still embedded inside you. He flipped the pair of you over so he was now laying on you. He buried his face in your boobs with a giddy grin on his face.

"I love you so much my darling." He mumbled from your chest. You smiled and kissed his head, your hand rubbing his back.

"I love you too, cowboy."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This definitely isn't my best work, but I used past tense, which I normally don't use. I hope it still sounded decent regardless of how unput together it was. Anyway I hope you guys enjoyed! I have another fic in the works that'll hopefully be out within the next week. Love you guys🫶🏻

Here's the original drawings

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer magne #hazbin lucifer #hazbinhotel #fanfic #lucifer #lucifer smut #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar/reader #bottom lucifer #cowboy #cowboy au #Cowboy Lucifer #hazbin

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Secret Affairs

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~600

Warnings: implied smut at the end

Summary: You and Loki have. secret relationship but maybe it's time to come clean to his parents, especially when his mother keeps interrupting you two.

Squares Filled: "unfortunately, i'm turned on by that." (2021) for @lokibingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Loki’s hand runs up and down your legs which sends shivers up and down your spine. If his hands aren’t turning you on, it’s his lips on your skin. You want nothing more than to grind down on him but anyone can walk inside his room and catch you, and then you’ll really be in deep shit.

Loki moves his lips from your mouth down to your neck while still keeping you on top of him, and you close your eyes in pleasure. His cock grows from underneath you and you pull away from him with a frustrated sigh.

“We can’t go there. Your mom might come in.”

“Let her.”

He pulls you back to him and kisses your neck.

“Baby, I wish but sneaking around is just too much fun.”

It’s hard to pull away from him completely but you get off him. He watches you walk into the bathroom butt-ass naked to take a shower that’s long overdue. You take a very quick shower and put on one of Loki’s shirts that happens to be lying in the bathroom. The shirt is big enough to cover your ass but short enough to show the bottom of your cheeks. You leave the bathroom while drying your hair, and Loki groans from the bed.

“What?”

“You’re wearing my shirt.”

“And?” you chuckle.

“Unfortunately, I’m turned on by that.”

You know you shouldn’t be doing this but you climb into bed and straddle his waist once more. He grips your thighs to keep you there but you don’t plan on going anywhere that isn’t in his bed. You lean down and kiss him, and he moves his hands from your thighs to your clothed nipples. He grips both of them between his fingers and tugs, making them stand to attention.

“Loki? You awake?”

His mother knocks on the door and you jump off him in a panic. No one knows you and Loki are dating. In fact, everyone believes you two hate each other. Your family and his have bad blood so if your parents knew you were dating a royal from Asgar, they’d have your head.

You scramble underneath his bed just as Frigga comes in. Loki shifts on the bed and moves the covers so she doesn’t suspect his boner. He has to hide his smirk at your behavior.

“I have invited the Y/L/N’s to dinner.” She walks over to his window and draws the curtains open to let in natural light. “Do me a favor and be nice to Y/N. I think she has a crush on you.”

Frigga doesn’t care who her sons date as long as they are happy. While she and Odin have issues with your parents, that doesn’t mean Loki has to have issues with you.

“Really?” Loki smirks. “I had no idea.”

This motherfucker.

“Of course, you don’t,” she sighs and walks to his bedroom door. “Get ready. They’re coming as soon as it’s dusk.”

When she closes the door behind her, Loki busts out laughing.

“Shut up,” you grumble and hit the underside of his bed. You crawl out from underneath it and stand over him. “You’re an ass, you know that?” You crawl into bed and lay beside him underneath the covers. “It’s filthy underneath there. I’m not hiding there anymore. We’re telling your mother.”

Loki continues to smirk and gets on top of you, moving the covers so it’s not bunched around you two.

“Later. Right now, I’m hungry. I haven’t had my snack yet.”

He slides underneath the covers so that he’s hidden from view, and you chuckle at his crude words. However, that chuckle turns into a strangled moan when his tongue touches your clit.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#loki #loki x reader #loki fic #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki smut #loki fluff #loki fiction #loki fan fiction #loki fan fic #marvel fic #marvel fan fiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fan fic #marvel fanfiction #mcu #marvel fluff #mcu fanfiction #marvel fiction #marvel

[eddiernunson]

Really Drives Me Mad | Older!Eddie x Fem!Reader | 18+

Prev Part l Master List |

Word Count: 10k

A SPECIAL HAPPY BIRTHDAY POST. (I’m 28 y’all)

Chapter contains: brief pregnant!reader, babies/kids…this is like a lil collection of blurbs. I have some head canons about each OC I can post if you’d like xoxo

I had ideas about their kids for ages, lol. This crazy lil family is chaotic

Still thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you and @bebe07011 for without you two this fic wouldn’t nearly be this good

Third trimester is a bitch. I barely have the bandwidth to write lately. I hope you enjoy

Two pink little lines stare back at you as Eddie turns the shower on, completely oblivious to the manic state you’re in.  

He offers you to join him, a temptation you decline with an intense amount of reluctance. You just claim you need your own bed, which was true.  

Eddie missed four weeks of work while you were on your luxe honeymoon, which means he now has several fires to put out. It keeps him busy for the week, making the doctor’s appointments and blood work you do that much easier when he passes right out on his couch at the end of his long days.  

The following week, knowing you're pregnant but not being able to tell him is pure torture. It doesn't help that for some odd reason Eddie seems more lovey, more affectionate. Your first instinct is to chalk it up to your newlywed status, but his affection feels different, the way his arms wrap around you each morning to wake you up, his gentle voice low in your ear. It's driving you up a wall not being able to share your secret with him.  

He seems to consistently have a hard time letting you go to leave for work (not that you’re complaining.) Though eventually you have to practically push him out the door.   

The ultrasound is nearly dull, the implantation in question is only a bundle of cells, but once you get a photo from the tech at the end of the appointment, it’s the very thing you needed to tell Eddie.  

After another early night of falling asleep you empty the face of the fridge, yanking every magnet off as you place the sonogram on the silver surface with a pink heart magnet right at his eye level.

-  

Eddie wakes in the middle of the night, a sudden urge to rise hitting him out of nowhere. His arm tightens around your waist, admiring your pretty face as he kisses your cheek. Your face falters only the littlest bit, twitching your muscles to shake off the tickle of his stubble.   

He finds himself starving, craving something only a feral racoon would also be satisfied with. He rubs his eyes as he walks down the steps. Sometimes he thinks he’s going to see you back in the kitchen chair in the dress and bathing suit, Dylan searching manically for a parking pass as if Eddie has imagined this whole dream scenario. Your love is just too good not to think he’d made it all up at times. He smiles to himself as he turns on the stove light, turning to the fridge for a snack.   

He feels frozen by the blank fridge at first, wondering where all the magnets got to. The black and white image staring him dead in the face suddenly registers, the heart shaped magnet falling to the floor as he rushes to pick it up to make sure his tired eyes aren’t fucking with him. They bulge out of his head when the significance of the photo occurs to him, and the hunger that woke him up seems to vanish.

His long legs take the stairs two and three at a time as he rushes back to you, hurling himself beneath the covers.   

The cold of his arms startles you, a gasp leaving your lips from the shock as you abruptly awoke. “Hmm?”  

“Are you fucking pregnant, sweetheart?” His eyes are unbearably soft, melted pools of milk chocolate staring intently at you.

A burst of sleepy giggles leaves your mouth, turning your body so you don't have to crane your neck. “You got up early.” You comment, weaving your fingers into his curls.   

“Skip the pleasantries, love.” He dismisses, scooping his arms beneath your back. “Are you fucking pregnant?”   

You pull him in for a kiss, your legs wrapping around his hips to pull him down against you. “What’s the sonogram tell you?”    

He chuckles against your lips, his thumbs swaying against your smiling cheeks. “You’re a little shit, you know that?” You nod, absentmindedly playing with his curls. “Fuck, I’m so excited right now, baby.”   

“Really?” You ask him, grinning.   

“I just found out my wife is having my baby. Are you fucking kidding me?” he asks, rutting his hips against yours desperately. “I’m rock hard, sweets.”   

Lucky for you and him, you opted for a pair of tiny panties and a t-shirt to bed, feeling his hardened cock against the thin lace fabric of your panties. Your fingers fumble to his boxers, hurriedly pushing them down his hips. “Then fuck me.”   

Eddie gently pulls the fabric aside, exposing it as his head perfectly brushes against your entrance. “God, my girl is soaked for me, ain’t she?”   

Your thighs tighten around his hips, jaw dropping as he teases you. “Want you, please, Ed.” Your eyes squeeze shut, relishing in the feeling of him pressed against you 

He pushes in, arms wrapping themselves around your torso. “Oh my god you’re having my fucking baby,” Eddie mumbles, face curling into your neck. “Gonna see your stomach all big when you’re carrying my baby, sweets, and you’ll be even hotter than you are now. Which I thought was impossible.”   

No words come to mind, mouth open and gasping at the way he moves in you. The cotton of your shirt is too hot, your hands shakily grabbing at the fabric to take it off. Eddie admires the sight he sees as your piqued nipples fall out of his faded black t-shirt, his eyes glazed over as he stares down at them. A moth drawn to the light, he dives into one, curling his tongue around the nipple with the perfect mix of teeth, pulling little mewls from you.  

“Fuck, we’re gonna be the happiest little family,” he chokes, kissing from your breast up to your neck, his voice filled with emotion.  

“Love you,” you sigh, gasping into his open mouth as his hips hit you harder.  

Eddie smiles, a wicked little grin as his hand curves over the swell of your tummy, thumb petting it gently.  

“Hold on to me, sweetheart. Hold on to your baby daddy,” you grin the line, wonderfully cheesy, but Eddie feels the way you tighten around him. Your arms curl around his back, pulling his body against yours.  

“Eddie, make me cum, please.” 

“Hold on, baby, I’m almost there, hold on,” he stutters, his deep voice starting to falter. His lips bend down to your ear, gasping desperately, bordering on whining. “Fuck– cum with me.”  

His lips wrap around yours, delicately connecting his tongue with yours as his hips stutter a final time, the little moans vibrating against your lips as he fills you up. As you collapse on the bed, sweaty bodies intertwined, he spends the twenty minutes until he falls asleep cooing, whispering in your ear how excited he is.  

You wake up the same way, with rounds two and three before he begrudgingly trudges off to work. 

- 

The sun accounts as a natural alarm clock as Dylan stretches his limbs wide, turning to face his girlfriend. His arm falls over Maya’s form, pulling her in as he starts to wake up. “Morning, Dylan,” she whispers, her pink lips spreading into a smile.  

He pulls her back against his stomach, hiking his legs under hers. “Mornin’.”  

She hums as he kisses the back of her neck, giggling as he takes a deep inhale of her shampoo. “You work today?”  

“No,” Dylan answers, caressing the strip of her exposed skin with his thumb. “I am seeing my dad today.”  

She smirks, turning to face him. “And your stepmom?” Dylan grits his teeth, tickling her stomach until she begs him to stop, hunching over the arm around her. “Okay, I’m sorry!”    

“Mmhm. I’m telling them, did you want to join me?”  

Maya squishes her face, seemingly debating on pros and cons. “I’m gonna pass on that, respectfully.” She can feel the questioning look Dylan gives her. “I have a long shift today, and I am exhausted.”  

“Next time, I’m dragging you with me,” Dylan insists, squeezing with his arms wrapped around her.  

“I’m counting on it.”  

As soon as Dylan opens the door, he listens in, waiting for a sound that never comes. Good, he waited long enough to come. He wanders into the kitchen, meeting his dad drinking orange juice straight from the carton. “Dad?”  

His dad freezes, removing the spout from his mouth, and wipes his face hurriedly. “Hey bud.”  

Dylan raises his eyebrow at him, pointedly glancing to the carton and back to him.  

“Don’t tell my wife.”  

Dylan smirks, rolling his eyes. “Speaking of the devil, where is she?”  

“Upstairs.”  

As if your ears are burning, the two men’s ears pick up the particular sound of someone coming down the stairs. Eddie prays you come downstairs with some clothes on. Your face lights up when you see Dylan, welcoming him into your arms without a second thought. “Dylan!” The familiarity you two share is still new, but wrapping him in a hug is like second nature at this point. “What brings you into this part of the world?”  

You leave the embrace, backing straight into Eddie’s arm. “Actually, I have some news I wanna share with you guys.”  

Eddie’s hand tightens around your arm, he’s mentioned Dylan talking about proposing last month, and this news felt right around the corner. He feigns ignorance, innocently asking, “Oh, what news would that be?”  

Dylan’s cheeks bloom in red, glancing down to his feet sheepishly. You just hoped you wouldn’t have to travel to a destination wedding while largely pregnant. “Uh, we–or, Maya,” he clears his throat, a laugh stuttering through it, “Maya’s pregnant.”  

The first thing you do is glance at your husband, both sporting wide eyes and slacked jaws. To say you’re surprised is a grand understatement.  

“Not the news you were expecting?” Dylan asks, watching the two of you share a silent conversation.  

In sync, the two of you switch back to him, twin smiles on your faces. Dylan had no idea what either of the faces in front of him could possibly mean, and there’s a part of him that wonders if this is happy news for either of you.  

“Um, no, actually,” Eddie barely holds back the sound of laughter in his voice. “That’s, that’s fantastic news, Dyl.” Truly, fantastic news. Eddie has been looking forward to being a biker grandfather since Dylan showed interest in being a father.  

You smirk, leaning into his shoulder. “How far along is she?”  

“Uh, 8 weeks, or so,” Dylan answers, squishing up his face comically.  

“Oh wow, so a week behind me, then,” you say nonchalantly, nodding at Eddie.  

“Wait, what?” Dylan asks, making sure he understood that correctly.  

You giggle, nodding as you sit your head in Eddie’s neck. “Yeah, I’m pregnant too, ironically enough.”  

Eddie leans into your ear, “So you’re gonna be a mom and a grandma in the same year…”  

Your eyes widen. “To think, I was just getting used to the idea of being a mom.” You lean back, meeting your husband’s pretty brown eyes. “Are we sure the kid’s gonna call me grandma?”  

Dylan picks up the conversation right away. “I mean, unless we’re gonna be completely honest with them, it doesn't make sense otherwise. You’re grandpa’s wife, therefore grandma.”  

Am I mom, then, too? You think to yourself, knowing you’ll point it out later. Your stomach rumbles, turning around to the counter to start making a breakfast of sorts. Your eyes hit the open orange juice jug and the lack of cup. “Did you drink straight out of the carton, again, mister?”  

Eddie avoids your eyes, looking at his son. “Hey, I didn’t say anything,” he surrenders, having a seat at the island.  

“How’s Maya been handling the pregnancy so far?” you ask, grabbing a pan from under the cupboards. “Because morning sickness is no joke.” You pause, leaning on the counter. “Not just in the morning, either.”  

“I think it’s some nausea, a bit of acid reflux, but to my knowledge she hasn’t been sick,” Dylan says, taking out his phone to text Maya about the news.  

“Bitch,” you mutter, the tone in your voice clear you’re joking. “We can’t all be so lucky. Eggs?”  

Dylan nods, grinning at the text Maya shoots back. “So dad, you’re gonna have a kid and a grandkid the same age as each other?”  

Eddie shrugs, taking another large sip from the carton. “Since my girl showed up, my life hasn’t been normal, and this just means it will never be normal again.”  

“You’re welcome,” Dylan laughs, rolling his eyes at the exasperated look you shoot at him.  

- 

Dylan’s phone buzzes, glancing at the unknown number as Maya fades in the middle of her sentence. “One minute, babe, I’m expecting a call from the interview I just did last week. Dylan Munson, speaking.”  

“Oh, Dyl-pickle, you sound so big!” Only one person has ever called Dylan that. He gulps, the sound of her voice bringing up old, sore emotions.

“Brooke. W-why are you calling me?”  

“Brooke? C’mon, I’m your mom, sweetheart,” she whines, her voice the sound of nails on a chalkboard.  

“Really, are you?” Dylan asks, getting up from the bed and starting to pace the hallway, his anger already building. “Ok, what college did I go to?” Silence. “What did I major in? What year did I graduate high school? When did I have my first kiss? Who’s my current girlfriend? What’s my best friend’s name? What sort of vehicle do I drive?”  

She doesn’t answer a single question, instead giving stuttered empty answers. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to answer any of that… We haven’t exactly been talking for the last fifteen years.” She says, somewhat accusatory.

Dylan sighs, rubbing his face frustratedly. “What, your phone didn’t work all those years?”  

“As far as I’m concerned, I’m not the only one who had a phone,” she protests, sounding incredibly defensive. 

“Yeah, well, you also weren’t a child for 8 of those years who begged his dad for his mom to come to one thing that was important to him,” Dylan retaliated, angry at her gaslighting. “My dad had your number, always left voicemails inviting you to my soccer games, to award ceremonies, to my birthdays, and you never answered a single call, let alone showed up.”  

“I’m sorry, Dylan, I am, but I was young then, you can’t blame me for wanting a fresh start.” 

“Actually, I can,” Dylan answers, now done with this conversation. “You had eight years to be a mom before I finally gave up on you. You don’t get to pick and choose when to be my mom, now.”    

“I’m sorry that hurt your feelings, Dyl. But I have two boys, and they really want to meet their older brother. Would you come down for lunch one day?”  

He nods, knowing that this sudden need to be a mom again wasn’t going to come for free. “No. I have no interest in being your life. Not since the day I turned 18.”  

“C’mon, Dyl–” 

“No, mom–Brooke. No. Don’t call me again, please. I need to go now.”  

She starts another sentence, but Dylan hangs up on her before he hears it. When he walks into the bedroom he shares with his girlfriend, he crawls into the bed next to her, feeling like the ten year old whose life got torn apart.  

It looks like Brooke still has that uncanny talent for making everything about her.  

- 

Eddie sits in his office, a small room decorated with frames filled with the faces of those he loves and papers strewn around the desk. He’s going over the receipts and payments, and silently regrets not having hired an accountant by now, but he’s far too stubborn to admit it.  

There’s a knock on the door and Eddie looks up in relief. Please, let there be a disgruntled customer to save him from the numbers. “Come on in!”  

Connor, one of the new apprentices he hired only a few months ago comes in, looking timid. The first few months he has a new hire they’re usually shy, and when their self confidence in their ability to do their job kicks in, Eddie truly starts to miss it. “Uh, hey, boss, there’s a client out there who wants to speak to you.”  

Eddie chuckles, leaning back in his chair as he rests his feet on his desk. “Don’t, don’t call me boss. What do they want?” 

Connor screws up his face. “Uh, I forgot to ask.”  

“Always ask, man. Tell them I’ll be right out.”  

“Alright, I’ll tell her.” Eddie sighs in relief, women tend to be more understanding.  

“Hey, send in Joe, will ya?”  

“On it!”  

Joe, a man who’s worked for Eddie for 20 years, older by ten years, walks into the office just a moment later. “What’s up, Ed?”  

“Give the lady a talk, will ya?” Eddie asks, scratching the itch on his right forearm. “Ask her what she wants.” Joe, tall, dark, and quiet, nods and shuts the door.  

He’s back in the office in seconds. The door’s loose knob has barely clicked shut before it’s abruptly opened again. “That fast?”  

Joe shakes his head, his eyes wide with a grimace on his face. “Uh, no, it’s…it’s Brooke.”  

Eddie scrunches his face up. “Brooke, like…Brooke?”  

“Yeah. You want me to–” 

“No it’s okay, I got it,” Eddie insists, a pit forming in the depths of his stomach. He rubs his face tiredly, fully unprepared to deal with this. 

“Dude, you sure?” He asks, having been with Eddie through the divorce.  

“Seriously, I got it. Thanks, man.”  

Eddie gets up from his desk, catching the eyes of his long-time employees on his way to the entrance of the garage. He’s fine. He’ll be fine.  

There she stands, looking around the garage holding her purse with two hands. She’s dressed like one of those Instagram moms, high waisted jeans with a loose blouse tucked in under a long coat. Her eyes land on him, her face lighting up as she exclaims, “Wow, the garage looks great!” 

“Thanks,” Eddie mumbles, sighing. “Is there a particular reason for…”  

Brooke smiles, and Eddie could almost see a genuine human behind the mask. “Um, do you mind if we go into your office?”  

Eddie raises his brows, perplexed. “I really don’t see the necessity for it.”  

“It’s not really a conversation to have in front of the guys, Eds,” Brooke comments, shuffling her feet as she crosses her arms.  

Eddie winces at the nickname she calls him. She really doesn’t know him well enough to call him such anymore. The audacity of it astounds him. “I’m not Eds to you…and my office holds things that are precious to me, that I honestly want to keep out of this conversation.”  

“Like I haven’t already seen pictures of your little wife,” Brooke grimaces, her tone switching from sweet to condescending in a split second, her eyes rolling. “Congrats on that, or whatever.”  

Eddie blinks, too exhausted to argue. “Alright, come on.”  

It's not like Brooke hasn’t been in his office before, Eddie thinks, they were happily married, after all. She looks around at the changes, her eyes seemingly fixated on where photos of Dylan’s previous achievements are proudly displayed. “Wow, he looks just like you,” Brooke mutters, a look on her face that Eddie can’t quite place.  

Eddie assessed the bulletin, Dylan’s graduation, first school dance, the Munsons spending a weekend at the Harrington’s, it certainly spelled out to her what she missed out on.  

He clears his throat, quietly asking for her to continue. “Right, um, I was wondering if you could talk to our son.” 

“Our son?” Eddie asks, barely holding back his laughter. “Last time I checked you said he was my son.”  

Brooke ignores it, faltering in her seat. “I tried calling him last week, but he shut me down.”  

“What do you need me to talk to him about exactly?” Eddie leans against his desk, his hands gripping the edge.

Brooke blinks, tilting her head. “When did you cut your hair?”  

“Irrelevant. What do you need me to talk to him about?” Eddie enunciates, already feeling the exhaustion of her mere soul sucking presence.

“My sons are asking questions about him, and they would like to meet him.” She inhales, as if preparing herself for what she was about to say, “I would love to reconnect with both of you, honestly.” 

Like an anvil, Eddie feels his stomach pull him all the way down into the floor. The silence she’s given him and Dylan for the last fifteen years has been stable, reliable even. The most reliable thing about her. This is turning off the road into a ditch with nothing to instigate it. “What did he say?”  

“Uh, he had no interest in it,” Brooke shrugs, leaning back in her seat.  

Eddie nods, having expected it. “Brooke, those pictures on the wall? My son spent so much time begging me to call and get you to at least one event, one time just to show that you still cared about him.” He pauses, watching her avoid his eyes. “I left dozens of voicemails in your inbox, and I know it was your inbox, because I remember the day it went from Munson to Prescott. I begged you to show up. Just once. The last time I did was for his graduation, but by then I had stopped telling him.”  

“He told our lawyers and the judge he wanted nothing to do with me. Forgive me if I thought he was telling the truth,” Brooke huffs, her voice sounding defensive.  

“He was a child, Brooke!” Eddie deadpans, narrowing his eyes. “A child hurt by his mother’s actions tearing apart his happy family. Staying with the stable parent was probably the more appealing option.” He scratches at the stubble on his face, glancing over to the sonogram sitting on his desk. He’d hoped Brooke hadn’t caught wind of that news, yet. “At first, he was really hurt, but after a while, he just wanted his mom. Who never showed up.” 

“Well, I might be a little late, but doesn’t it count for something that I’m trying, now?” She asks, folding her arms across her chest. 

“I think it counts more that he’s about to be a father and he has no interest in including you in his kid’s life.”  

Her eyes bug right out of her head. “Wait, what?”  

“Mmhm. Seems he’d rather give what was supposed to be your title to someone he’s known for less than a year.” Eddie flickers to the photo of you he has framed, a portrait of you surrounded by the sunset in your wedding dress. “You had eight years, Brooke. Eight. You don’t get to decide to be a parent when it’s convenient for you. I never had that luxury. I had to pick myself and my son up and find a way to get through it emotionally without falling apart at the seams.”  

She seems to start talking, but Eddie is on a roll. “I finally feel like I’m living my life, and not just surviving. If you reached out five years ago, I probably would’ve said yes. I even had a low enough self-esteem to hope it would mean something more…but now I have this woman, this beautiful person who showed me how much she believes I’m worth, showed me how much I am worth. Brooke, no offense, but when I look back on it, especially comparing the two, you treated me like shit.”  

“Uh, okay,” Brooke mutters, holding her hand out. “I did not treat you like shit.”  

“You never stuck up for me with your parents, forced me to do things I was uncomfortable with all the time, gave ‘our’ son’s teachers hell all the time, and, oh yeah, left me for the person you told me not to worry about. So, no I will not be talking to my son. If he comes to the conclusion to reconnect with you, then fine. But I will not be participating.”  

“Wow, you’re being harsh.” Brooke complains, grimacing. “Eddie, I was young. I made a few stupid decisions.”  

“You know, my wife is a bit young. Somehow, she already knows not to act like a stone cold cunt.”  Brooke stutters through an empty response, completely rendered speechless. “I think we’re done here.”  

“I’m not done!”  

“Well, I suggest you be by the time my pregnant wife gets here, because she’s not your biggest fan.” It gives him the utmost satisfaction to start looking through the papers. He glances back up to her expectant expression. “Safe travels back to Boston, hmm?”  

Eddie swears the smile on your face in the photo of you grows, glad the backbone he needed seems to have finally grown. “You’re not going to even–”  

“No. I’m not. I’m done here, Brooke. Give Kevin my condolences, yeah?”  

Brooke nods, reluctantly understanding she wasn’t going to get what she wanted. Eddie had indeed grown the self-confidence she never saw when she was with him. “Condolences?” 

“Yeah, for still being stuck with you. Close the door on your way out.”  

Brooke’s nostrils flare, her jaw locking. She turns around without another word, the slam of the door echoing through the garage as she storms out, every click of her heel enunciated.  

Moments later, Joe pops through the door. “Everything, ok, Ed?”  

Eddie looks up, his dimples pronounced on his face. “Oh just, peachy, Joe. Mind if I take off for the rest of the day?”  

“I would be concerned if you didn’t, man.”  

- 

The ringing of your phone stirs you from your slumber, having passed out on the couch mid snack. An app you downloaded on your phone for the pregnancy said the first trimester would have you feeling quite sleepy, and you didn’t believe it until you find yourself constantly falling asleep during your off days, and exhausted at work when you really shouldn’t be.  

Your sister’s name lights up the screen, and the quick assessment of the movie tells you you’ve been asleep for at least forty-five minutes. “Hey, Viti.”  

“Hey, sis,” she greets, an airy tone in her voice. “Sounds like you just woke up.”  

You haven’t broken the news to your family, yet, waiting to present the information in the form of a present next time you and Eddie make your way over to your parents’ house. “Had an afternoon siesta,” you sigh, watching the movie you’re tempted to restart. The twist of Carlisle’s death just isn’t the same if you don’t build up to it. “What’s up?” 

She sighs, a habit you’re all too familiar with. “Spit it out.”  

“Okay,” she starts, gaining her courage. “Me and Arlo got together the night of your wedding.”  

If you were attempting to get rid of any sense of sleep, it disappeared within a second. The information takes a second to register, eyes darting around the living room filled with wrappers you have yet to throw out. “Harrington?”  

She laughs, probably expecting a much worse answer. “Do you know any other Arlos?”  

“Guess not.” You pet the bangs in your eyes away from your face, trying to remind yourself of the look on your baby sister’s face when she was slow dancing with him. “Ok. How did it happen?” 

“You’re okay with this?” She asks, your heart melting at how little her voice sounds.  

“It was never my choice, Vi,” you answer, using the remote to restart the movie. “If you like him and trust him, then, yeah, I’m okay with it. So how did it happen? Tell me all about it. But if you’ve slept with him, then maybe not all about it,” You chuckle. Viti sighs exasperatedly and you can practically hear her eyes roll through the phone.

“Um, so we were kind of flirting a lot after the family dinner. I thought he was just being nice, but I was willing to be his friend. It got a bit more intense at the wedding, and he asked me to dance…”  

“I saw,” you admit, granted you only saw because Eddie pointed it out to you. “What happened after that?”  

You can hear the smile on her face. “He led me to a hallway, and then we went to the hotel room I was staying in…” She trails off sheepishly. Oh, that's all you need to know.  

“Damn, girl!” you laugh, opting to push away the mental image and simply be your sister's friend right now.  

“We went to dinner last week,” she says, a giggle laced through her sentence. “I really, really like him.”  

It had to be Arlo Harrington. “Then I’m really, really happy for you. Have you told everyone else yet?”  

“You’re the last to know, to be honest. I think Eddie even knows at this point.” You roll your eyes, because of course that’s why he was so peculiar this morning.  

“Just because I don’t necessarily approve of the choice of boy doesn’t mean I won’t be happy for you. Plus, I could get used to him, after all, Steve isn’t so bad.” That’s a damn lie, Steve Harrington has become one of your favorite people. “Tell me you got out of the hotel room before mom and dad discovered you.”  

“We heard them coming down the hall…” she says, giggling. “We were dressed as they were about to come in the door. Luckily, they were both pretty drunk, so they didn’t really catch on to what was happening. Well, until the next morning at brunch, I guess.”  

Note, send a text to your mom asking about what her perspective was, because there’s a chance she knew more than she let on. You think to yourself.

“Anyway, four weeks in Cancun. Spare me the dirty details but tell me all about it,” she giggles, moving the phone away from her face, “shut up, stop, shut up!’ 

“Let me guess. Arlo?”  

A burst of giggles runs through her body and you can hear the smile on her face. “Maybe,”

“You couldn’t wait until you were alone?”  

“She’s not really alone all that much these days,” Arlo’s voice rings out. You can picture the smug smirk on his face.  

“Arlo!” She chides him, and yeah, this might not be so bad, you decide.  

“I’m gonna let you two go,” you offer, dismissing any protests she let out. “Also, without the dirty details there’s not much of the honeymoon to tell. Well, except one thing.”  

“What?” 

“You'll have someone new to meet in seven months!”  

“No way!” 

- 

If there’s one thing you know, it’s Christina Perri’s A Thousand Years is the song for the last credit scene of the Twilight Series. As each character is shown with the corresponding credit, it gets closer and closer to the main cast.  

It might just be the hormones, but this round of credits just seems to hit differently, tears spilling down your cheeks as it gets to the Cullen family. The front door to the house slams shut, announcing the arrival of your husband. Odd, he’s about three hours early.  

The weight of the cushion next to you sinks down with a comforting arm wrapping around your shoulders. Your head falls easily into his embrace, curling into his lap as you sniffle. It’s ridiculous, the irrational reaction that takes over you, but damn do the editors know how to elicit a reaction out of the audience.  

His hand pets your shoulder, kissing your forehead. “You crying at Twilight?”  

You nod, furrowing your eyebrows. “Lose the smug attitude, mister. This is your doing.”  

He laughs under his breath, petting your hair. “Hmm, that’s not how I remember our honeymoon.”  

You tilt your head back to look at his face, fretting at the curls that are starting to resemble closer to a mullet. “Just because I begged for your babies does not mean you had to listen to me.”  

He rolls his eyes, leaning in to place a kiss on your lips that takes the breath out from your lungs. As he backs away, he hums with a peculiar look on his face. “What’s on your mind?” You ask, your brows knitting together.

Eddie sighs, petting the bare skin exposed on your hip. “Minor Brooke update, today.”  

Your brows instinctively rise, feeling every little muscle in your face tense up. “Oh?” 

“Yup. Are you interested?”  

You close your eyes, asking any entity out there listening for a lick of patience. “You piqued my interest. Lay it on me.”  

Eddie can’t beat around the bush, or he would never say it. “She came into my work today.” He pauses, allowing you to absorb the information before continuing. “Requesting that I convince Dylan to…let her back into his life, so to say.” You squint, remembering the few times that Dylan had confessed about his mom to you, always finishing by claiming he wants nothing to do with her and never will.  

“Yeah, good luck with that,” you comment, watching his eyes flicker back and forth between yours.  

“She reached out to him last week and when he refused, I guess the next most logical step was to drive the six hours from Boston and corner me at work.” Your teeth grit, angry at the fucking gall that fills Brooke whatever-the-fuck her last name is. God forbid Steve or Eddie ever accidentally tell you what it is, because the day it comes her inbox will be flooded with just a little piece of your mind, and she'll be lucky if profanities are the worst things you say.

“What are you thinking?” He asks, having watched your face move through the storm of emotions.  

“I was thinking that I fucking hate your ex-wife and if she has no haters then I’m dead,” you answer, dead panning.  

“I love you,” he sighs, tugging you in against his chest. “Are you hungry?”  

You look at the wrappers decorating the mahogany coffee table, “Surprisingly yes.”  

“Lets get a real meal in you, shall we?”  

- 

Eddie is present at every doctor's appointment, every ultrasound, birthing class, and even at 20 weeks, when you were inexplicably spotting, stayed with you throughout the 7 hour wait at the ER. He certainly helped you hide from the embarrassment of the doctor explaining the bleeding seemed to be brought on by intercourse and to start being a bit more careful.  

Only one time does a health care worker mistake Eddie for being your father, a mistake quickly fixed at the death glare he gives her. You don’t know how, as you look nothing alike and he has been doting on you too affectionately to be a dad, but you can’t help teasing him by calling him daddy as soon as she leaves the room. 

Well, that’s a lie.  

There is one other time he’s mistaken for your father, running into the maternity ward and anxiously stating your name to the front desk of labor nurses. The head nurse, a woman bearing silver streaks in her hair, calmly tells him to relax and sit down, only the baby’s father is allowed in the room with patients.  

“Well you better take me to my wife, then,” he deadpans, his eyes harsh enough to shoot daggers if it were physically possible. 

She stutters through her response. “Oh, you-you’re her husband? I’m so sorry I assumed–my mistake, she’s in the third door on the left.”  

He rushes to the door, ignoring her last pleas for forgiveness. He was far too busy focusing on how he knew he shouldn’t have gone into work when he knew you were due to go into labor any day now. He knew he should've told them to ask Joe for the solution, as he was basically acting owner while he was away.  

When he bursts through the door, you’re sat on the bed in the room with Bethany petting your face as you push through a particularly hard contraction.  

He waits and watches anxiously for you to get through it before announcing his arrival. As soon as your eyes land on him he sees your face crumple in relief and your hands reach out for him. “Baby,” you whine, seeking the comfort of his shampoo and cologne.  

“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, planting a big kiss on the hand that was reached out. “Thank you so much, Bethany, for taking her.”  

She shrugs, dismissing his over exaggerated gratitude. “She’s been a champ. Let me know if you two need anything.”  

Eddie pets your hair, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on your lips. “How’ve you been, baby?”  

“Only been an hour, and I am so over labor,” you whine, smiling pathetically. “Thanks for coming so fast.”  

Eddie was surprised he didn’t get pulled over, going 90 down the freeway. He turned a 20 minute drive into 8. “Made any progress?” 

“I’m only one centimeter dilated. We could be here for a while.” 

“I’m here every minute,” he says, grabbing a chair to sit by your bed. “I believe in you. We’ll listen to Taylor, listen to a smutty audio book, watch a true crime series, whatever you want, baby.”  

- 

True to his word, he allowed you to blast your Faves Spotify playlist, watched a few episodes of 48 Hours with you, and even sat with you as he let you play with the makeup you had packed in your hospital bag on his face.  

You made him look like a Captain Jack Sparrow, giggling as he animatedly talks in a pirate voice. The best thing about Eddie being there is that he wards off your parents and others who wish to visit you in your labor and acts as your advocate when the nurse is too rough with you and requests a new nurse immediately. Well, and his presence alone puts you at ease, of course.  

It feels like forever, but you’re eight centimeters dilated when a familiar face walks down the hall, passing his father as he carries the millionth cup of ice chips you requested. “Bud! Did someone text you about–” 

“She told me when Bethany was driving her to the hospital, but that’s actually not why we’re here,” Dylan sheepishly admits, his shoulders shrugging up to his ears as a pink blooms across his cheeks.  

“We?” Eddie catches on, blinking. “Is Maya also..?” 

“Yeah, we got here about three hours ago,” he squinted one eye comically, crossing his arms. “She’s about halfway there, now I think.”  

“Wow she’s progressing a lot faster than we did,” Eddie comments, it taking you far more than three hours to get to five centimeters.  

“It would be ironic wouldn’t it, if they had the same birthday?”  

“Irony is one word for it,” Dylan chuckles. “My girlfriend asked for ice chips about eight minutes ago, and she is not patient, so I’m going to get back to it.” 

“Let us know any updates, won’t you?”  

“I bet my kid will be born before yours,” Dylan answers, only somewhat joking. 

“Oh, you’re on, dude.”  

- 

As nurses and the doctor rushes around you, frantically assessing the baby while helping you with the afterbirth, birthing the placenta and ridding the bodily fluids that came out with the infant. Eddie cut the cord, watching carefully as the nurses quickly washed his newborn son off.  

He’s simultaneously whispering sweet nothings against your cheek, how proud he is of you, describing your son’s dark hair, his little mouth opening as the nurse's hand gently washes it. “Did so good, baby, so good, I’m so fucking proud of you.”  

“Is he okay?” You whisper, eyes half open as you stare up at your husband’s brown ones. “J-Josh, is he okay?”  

Eddie knows exactly what you’re asking, making sure his limbs are working, that he looks healthy, that the nurses don’t look too concerned about their results. He can’t help but answer, “He’s perfect.”  

Your favorite nurse, the one who got assigned after Eddie demanded it, brings him over swaddled in a hospital blanket and tucks him into your arms. The hormones and adrenaline overwhelm you as you stare at his face, selfishly grateful he looks just like his father, happily staring at the little button nose.  

“I love you,” when you stare up at your husband, you’re expecting his eyes to also be planted on the newest member of the little family. Instead they’re shiny and planted on you, his expression drenched in pure love.  

“I love you,” you sigh, leaning in for a sweet kiss. “He’s so perfect.”  

“I fucking love you so much.” 

The love fest eventually dies down, all the medical aides surrounding you finishing up and leaving the room as they steal one last glance at the happy little family.  

You’re lost in your own little world when Dylan runs in, seeing the little addition sat on your chest. Eddie looks up to face Dylan dressed in a hospital gown and a hairnet. His face is lit up with the same joy as the room is filled with. “You wanna meet your grandson?”  

Eddie nods, quickly stopped by his wife still lying on the bed sitting in the afterglow. “Go,” you insist, petting at the soft hair on your son. “Say hi for me.”  

He smiles, placing a gentle kiss on your knotted hair, followed by his newborn. “Be right back.”  

On the way over to the emergency surgery room Dylan explains that the umbilical cord ended up twisted around his son’s neck and they took Maya straight into an emergency C-Section. He sat with his girlfriend as they emptied the contents of her abdomen to allow the newest Munson to come into the world.  

Eddie asked several times to make sure it was okay if her father in law, her boyfriend’s father, to go into a room where she is this vulnerable. Dylan insisted that she said it was fine and since Eddie was here for the birth of his son it would be cool for him to meet his grandson, too, within the same half hour.  

Miraculously, after getting in his own scrubs, Eddie wanders in with Dylan as Maya is finished with her stitches. She’s still loopy from the general anesthesia, holding her newborn on her partially covered chest.  

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Eddie asked, knowing how against visitors you were.  

“Just come say hi to your grandson, Eddie,” Maya chuckles, passing up the newborn. “Meet Jace Edward Munson.”  

“Edward?” Eddie laughs, barely holding the mist that comes to his eyes. “What?”  

Dylan scrunches his nose, tilting his head to face the newborn now in his father’s arms. “You stepped up when she left. You were everything to me. You may have stolen a girlfriend, but that is small beans in the grand scheme of things, you know?”  

“Jace and Josh,” Eddie muses, laughter bubbling up his throat. “God, they even sound like twins.”  

- 

Kayla smooths over the dress she wears, nervously looking around the classroom. Are there enough learning centers set up? Will the children like the home center she put together? Will there be any difficult teachers during her first year?  

 For the first time, she’s on her own, placed in the very class she had spent so long working toward, kindergarten.  

Her little classmates with their parents, usually mothers, wander in with wide eyes, nervously holding onto their sleeves and looking around anxiously. She talks to each little one at a time, welcoming them and offering them many activities to distract them from wanting to stay with their parents.  

One little boy doesn’t need much, or any, peeling off his father as he runs in, his shaggy brown hair rustling in as he bolts straight to the building blocks. His dad walks in right after, carrying his bag dressed in a leather jacket and acid wash jeans.  

“Hi,” he sighs, sounding tired. “That’s Dylan.”  

“M or H?” Kayla asks.  

“M.”  

“Dylan, can you grab your bag from your dad and put it in the cubby?” Dylan runs to grab his bag from his dad, shouting in slight frustration as he’s pulled in for a hug. “Yours will have an M next to your name!”  

He listens, but doesn’t look back as he runs back to the blocks.  

“I’m Eddie,” the father says, holding his hand out. “His mom, Brooke, will pick him up after school, uh, she’s a bit of a hardass, so just beware.”  

Oh, goody. She gives him a strained smile, insisting she’ll be able to handle it.  

Eddie and Dylan end up being one of his favorite pairings for the year. But when Brooke walked in, she knew it became a big deal for something as small as Dylan putting his book in the wrong pocket in his bag.  

Kayla got along great with Eddie, as they turned out to be the same age. They saw one another around the school as Dylan got older, even became someone Dylan could rely on for a maternal figure when his parents ended up divorcing in fifth grade.  

About twenty one years after initially teaching Dylan, she’s a veteran teacher in her own right, having a monopoly over classroom #3 as she continues to be the answer for dozens of individuals when asked their favorite teacher.   

She sits in her lumbar chair that her coworkers raised the money for the previous Christmas as she finally is able to look over her newest class list. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until she came across 9th and 8th from the last name, two boys with J initials and the last name Munson. She’d been wondering if she would ever have the pleasure of teaching Dylan’s boys, or if he decided to skip town like most of his classmates.  

Their birthday right next to their attendance names indicated they had the same birthdate, so she was safe to assume she would have another set of twins. If they were anything like Dylan, they would be a fun sort of challenge for her, that she was sure of.  

On the first day the following fall, she keeps an eye out for her former student, keeping in mind it could very well be the mother that decides to drop them off.  

As she’s helping a particularly shy child settle into her classroom, she notices a parent helping their kid out of the wind breaker they’re wearing. As soon as the little girl is settled she goes to them welcoming them. She immediately recognizes the parent. “Dylan!”  

“Oh, Miss. Thompson! I didn’t realize you were still teaching!” He sheepishly admits, looking at the plaque now containing her married name.  

“I am just married, now,” she answers, answering him the same way she would a student out of habit. “Now, who do we have here?”  

“I’m Jace,” the little boy answers shyly, brown hair of this father but stark green eyes.  

“Well, Jace, would you mind finding your name at one of the cubbies for me? I think you’re put right next to someone named Josh,” she tells him, watching for any recognition of the other name she thought was his twin.  

“Oh, sweet!” Jace exclaims, running with his Pokémon bag.  

She gets up from her squatting position, her knees far too achy for doing it continually like she still is. “So, there’s another Munson on the class list, would you know anything about that?” 

Dylan chuckles, sighing. “Well, about that–” Dylan is interrupted by a little boy with dark hair hugging him, exclaiming his name. “Hey, Josh, we were just talking about you!”  

Josh laughs, tugging on Dylan’s arm. “Is Jace here?” 

“Yeah, he’s playing with the dinosaurs, if I know him.” 

“Cool!” Josh runs straight off, meeting his supposed relative at the play carpet.  

Kayla turns around in confusion, questioning what just happened.  

As if answering her, in comes another familiar face, holding a bag that looks comically small compared to his tall stature. “Ah, Kayla. I was wondering if you were still here.”  

“Eddie!” She greets him, giving a very frank hug. “I have to admit, I am very confused.” 

“That’s okay, you wouldn’t be the first,” Eddie comments, crossing his arms. “Me and my wife had Josh at the same time Dylan had Jace. They’re assholes, they like to gang up on adults, but don’t let them intimidate you, they can’t with their adults anymore, so they try it on teachers.” 

“Takes a lot more than that to intimidate me,” Kayla answers, looking back at the boys who gained ownership over the carpet with dinosaurs and cars. “I appreciate the warning, though.” She looks back to her old friend, seeing the smile lines on his face, still carrying his son’s things. “I’m happy you found someone, though.”  

“Thanks. His mom will pick him up after school,” Eddie tells her, going to the cubby with his kid’s name on it. “She’s not as bad as Brooke, so there’s no worries, there.”  

“Alright, can’t wait to meet her.”  

Eddie and Dylan share a look, one that Kayla misses as she starts to welcome in a few new classmates.  

- 

The bell rings for lunch for the rest of the elementary school and end of day for the kindergarteners. Mrs. Franklin, or Miss. Thompson, as Dylan knows her, helps all her students with their backpacks and jackets. It’s one thing to manage five-year-olds, it’s another to get them to stop wrestling and help them simultaneously.  

The Munson boys are certainly no help, Josh trying to stick his finger up Jace’s nose, pinning him down on the dirty floor as Jace wiggles underneath him. Kayla wished Josh would stop telling Jace he’s his uncle and he has to listen to him, that way she wouldn’t have to hold back her laughter so hard.  

“Okay, Mr. and Mr. Munson, break it up, your parents will be here any minute now. Get up.” They both switch their glances up to her, eyebrows raised over wide eyes. “Get up.”  

They roll their eyes, Josh reluctantly getting off Jace slowly and helping him up. Slowly but surely, parents start to pick their kids up, both Munsons waiting for their parents anxiously. You wonder in with your youngest, a little three year old by the name of Stevie. She holds onto your pointer and middle finger anxiously, eyes darting around at the unfamiliar noises and faces.  

Your son is seemingly nowhere to be seen, usually seen with his counterpart but you can’t see him around the crowd of parents kneeling with their kids and asking how their day was. The teacher,  someone both Dylan and Eddie insisted is the best in the school, approaches you kindly to ask which kid is yours.  

Before you can even answer Josh runs into you, happily glancing up at you as he wraps his arms around your legs. “Hi, baby,” you greet him, kneeling down as you pet his sweet face.  

You miss the peculiar look Mrs. Franklin, or Kayla as Eddie referred to her as, gives you. Surprised to say the least that the Mrs. Munson she has yet to meet is so young. Her brows furrow even further when Jace notices you, yelling, “Grandma!” as he also runs for a hug.  

“Were you boys nice to Mrs. Franklin today?”  

“Of course!” Josh smiles, and you squint through his bullshit.  

“Well we’re gonna make sure to be nicer or we’re gonna have to lose our tablet privileges, won’t we?”  

You get back up, smiling at their grumbly faces. They never listen to new adults, it was a field day at their first day of preschool. One glance to their teacher’s observant face told you all you needed to know. “Eddie didn’t warn you, he?”  

“No, but they did have a peculiar look on their faces when I mentioned meeting you. Should’ve known better, with those two,” you tilt your head, curious at what she meant. “Seriously, your husband needs to tell you more. I taught Dylan when he was in kindergarten.”  

“Oh!” you exclaim, somewhat surprised. “That’s really cool! Were you surprised to see Eddie wi–” 

“With another kid,” she interrupts, laughing, “yes, I was. I’m happy to see that he found someone else, Brooke, was, well, she was not a nice person.”  

Your eyebrows raise at the mention of your husband’s ex-wife, this being the first person she meets outside Eddie’s inner circle to having even mentioned Brooke. “So, I’ve heard.”  

“Hey mom,” you hear behind you, you shove the owner before you even see him, rolling your eyes.  

It’s very recently become a silly habit of Dylan’s to call you mom, due to your son asking why his brother calls his mom by her real name and not mom like he does. After the best attempt at explaining Dylan has a different mom who is no longer around, Josh is still confused and insists that you still act like his mom, so therefore, are Dylan’s mom. 

It was awkward at first, but now it’s a little inside joke. If you were told when you first got together with Eddie that Dylan would be referring to you as a maternal figure, you probably would’ve hit them on the head for fucking with you.  

“Hey, kiddo,” you tease back, mocking his twisted face expression. “They were apparently giving her a hard time today.”  

“Of course they were. You know we can ask one of you to switch classes, right?” Dylan asks, an aura of authority in his voice.  

Their eyes go wide, even though it was a threat in their preschool room, they have yet to consider this. You didn’t want to resort to threats but with their shenanigans, it's literally one of the only things that will work.  

“C’mon, your dad is making your favorite for dinner,” your shoulder cascades around Josh’s shoulder, telling him to say bye to his nephew and that he’ll see him tomorrow.  

Two years later, Stevie shows up with her dark curls down to her shoulders after her father, giggling as she says hi to the teacher.  

That was the last time Kayla taught one of Eddie Munson’s kids. Or, so she assumed.  

- 

The double doors to the high school flew open, big black boots echoing as the large leather jacket trails behind a slim torso. He takes the immediate left into the office, his presence large, with grey streaks leaking into his roots and an angry look on his face.  

The kind administration lady looks up to his expectant face, the curiosity quickly melting into confounded terror. “Can I help you?” 

“Apparently Stevie Munson is in the office right now?” Better be a damn good reason for peeling me away from one of the only moments I have left alone with my wife, he thinks, eyes observing around the office.  

“Yes, she is, uh, are you her–” 

“Her father, are you going to let me in the office or do I have to let myself in?” 

The surprise that fills her features would be charming if Eddie wasn’t so fucking annoyed. He’s used to the assumption by now, but for the moment he just doesn’t have any patience in his body.  

“You can go right ahead, Mr. Munson,” she peeps out, gesturing to the door marked Principal. Eddie’s not sure why he even asked, or how he had the foresight to ask, first. He’s surprised, honestly.  

The door opens to face the school principal, his daughter and a boy sitting two seats away from her nursing his face with an ice pack. “Mr. Munson, welcome in! Have a seat.”  

“No thanks,” Eddie answers, polite, but curt. He looks at his daughter, “What happened?”  

She opens her mouth to answer but is interrupted by the bald principal, “I didn’t ask you, I asked her. What happened?” He directs his attention back to his daughter.

She smiles at him, the same sweet smile his wife bares. “This guy touched my ass under my skirt, so I punched him in the face.”  

Eddie’s brows raised, teeth gritted as he sends a daggers at the boy he is now aware assaulted his daughter. “I’m sorry?” He asks, now directed to the principal.  

“So she says,” the principal says, eyes widening at how Eddie manages to look murderous. “Granted, even if Mr. Jackson did do that, it’s not a good enough reason to assault him. She will be suspended for two days.”  

Eddie laughs, loudly, shaking his head at the gall, the fucking nerve. This principal is extremely lucky it was him who answered his phone and not you. “Really? My daughter got sexually assaulted and your reaction to her defending herself is suspending her? Are you fucking kidding me?”  

“Mr. Munson, if you could please calm down and have a seat,” he starts, gesturing to the chair, yet again.  

“Oh, I am calm. You don’t want to see me angry,” Eddie answers, the Hulk flashing through his mind. “You deciding to punish her tells me exactly why this little shit felt confident enough to lay his hands on her, to begin with. I just think about all the other girls he’s done this to, too afraid to speak up, I wonder how many times he’s done this with no consequence to feel confident enough to touch under a skirt. What the fuck is this place? No-tolerance bullying policy? Utter bullshit.”  

“Mr. Munson, calm down before I call security–”  

“Don’t make me laugh. Seriously. Don’t.” Eddie sighs, pinching his nose. “If you do suspend her, I will press charges against him and I will sue this fucking school. If you punish him, like you’re supposed to, take him off his team for the season, put him in detention for a month, I don’t care, something with fucking consequences, I won’t. You decide.” 

He looks down at the little shit, whimpering as he still nurses the barely there bruise. “You better hope I don’t hear you doing this shit to any other girl in this school, or you won’t get into any college in the country.” He pauses, opening the office door to an audience. Maybe he was louder than he thought he was. “C’mon Stevie, let’s go get some fucking ice cream.”  

When you heard about how your husband stuck up for your daughter like that, you got on your knees for him in the bathroom. That might’ve cheered him up a bit.  

- 

The sounds are familiar yet foreign when you wake up to the blindingly white room, the chatter in the hallway and some heart monitor beeping. Two people immediately come into focus, Josh, sitting at the end of the bed on his phone, Stevie sitting concerned by your head.  

You moan, sitting up in your bed annoyed at the stark contrast of the back of your eyelids. “What the hell?”  

“Mom!” Josh shouts, getting up and standing on the other side of his sister.  

“Mom,” Stevie runs out of the room, calling for a doctor.  

You look to your son, brows furrowed. “What happened?”  

“You passed out at the grocery store. You fainted and you didn’t wake up until just now.”  

Your brows raise, because you haven’t felt off even the slightest. The dizziness hit you out of nowhere, going from fine to woozy in two seconds and falling flat on your face. “How long ago did that happen?” 

“Like twenty minutes? The ambulance got there pretty quickly,” he admits, turning his head to his sister and the nurse coming in the door. 

“Mrs. Munson! So glad to see you awake. I’ll let the doctor know and he should be able to give your results,” she says, sweet smile as she turns away.  

Stevie’s bottom lip is stuck out, quivering as she grabs the hand containing an IV line. You thought that was a bit much. “Stevie, I’m okay.” 

“Are you sure, because I heard the nurses saying it’s not normal to stay out that long after fainting. What if you’re sick?”  

“I’m okay,” you insist, watching both their worried faces. “Fuck, you called your dad, didn’t you?” 

“Uh, yes! He would’ve killed us if we didn’t!” Josh laughs, leaning back in his chair.  

As if summoned, your husband pokes his head in, his eyes wide as he walks in the room, hands out to you as his long legs take him to the head of the bed. “Fucking Christ.” 

“Hi, baby,” you greet him, leaning into the forehead kiss that he gives you. “I’m okay.” 

“Fainting in the fucking grocery store, fucking hell. My god, baby.” He looks over to his kids, “What tests have they done, so far?” 

“Just a blood test, I think,” Stevie shrugs. 

“They might do an MRI but that could take weeks of waiting.” Josh offers no comfort to his dad despite his best efforts.  

“I’m okay, really.” You insist to all their worried faces. “You didn’t call anyone else, did you?”  

“Uh, we called Dylan,” Josh says, wincing at your annoyed face. “And Jace.”  

“Fuck,” you mutter, intertwining your hand with Eddie’s rough one.  

The doctor doesn’t come as quickly as the nurse promised, but he comes within two hours. “Oh, hello, you have quite the visitors, don’t you?”  

You shrug, rubbing his thumb as it anxiously rubs your hand.  

“We have the results, inconclusively.” The air is tense, every one of the family seemingly expecting terrible news. “Congrats! You’re pregnant.”  

You knew nothing was wrong, but this was not what you were expecting. You’re forty-two, Eddie is nearly seventy. You weren’t even sure he could still get you pregnant. You meet your husband’s eyes, sharing a bewildered smile.  

In the meantime, shouts of disgust from your teenage kids fill the room, standing up with tense shoulders.  

“Gross!” 

“Ew! I didn’t even know you guys still did it! Oh my god! Ew!!!!”  

You bite your lip, shrugging. “Are you wanting to be a father to a newborn at almost 70?”  

Eddie smirks, leaning in for a kiss that makes your kids jeer again. “Bring it on, baby.”  

Steve calls an hour later, concerned for the text his name sake sent him. When Eddie informs him, you’re pregnant, twenty years of karma hits tenfold.  

When Steve and Jocelyn said they were pregnant with Eliza fifteen years after having Dustin, Eddie spent the pregnancy making fun of their oopsie baby. Asking if they knew what protection was, joking how they still had sex, telling them to keep it in their pants, the works.  

Now, Steve was more than happy to return the favor. “A baby at 70, you old bastard? What was that you told me twenty years ago? God, I’m surprised you two still do it, considering how low Eddie’s ball sack must be hanging.”  

“You wish you could see my ball sack, you asshole,” Eddie teases, laughing with you as you sigh. “You’re just jealous I can still keep it up, you geriatric bastard.”  

- 

Five years later, when Eddie and Kayla are older, he wanders into classroom #3 for the last time, holding his third son who ends up being notoriously clingy towards his older father.  

It’s ironic to the both of them how Eddie has a son for both Kayla’s first and last year of teaching, keeping tabs on one another for the duration of forty years.  

Eddie doesn’t say anything, letting Tommy down and dismissing her questioning look. Don’t wanna talk about it.

By the time Tommy is 18, Eddie is too old to give a shit, wondering constantly what Wayne’s opinion will be when he ends up knocking on heaven’s door.  

When you got into your sixties, Eddie was full of gratitude, thankful that you will no longer be confused for one of his kids despite his actual kids all calling you mom. He makes fun of your vision, stealing his reading glasses constantly despite his constant insisting that you get your own pair.  

Despite the smile lines by his lips and his eyes, the sunspots decorating his skin, you still stare up at him like you did when he was forty-seven.  

Your lives were forever intertwined from the moment you saw him, from the moment he saw you. He lies down in your bed next to you for the millionth time, his hand caressing your side, pressing kisses on whiskered lips, it doesn’t occur to you to ever be anything less than woefully in love with him.     

———————-

Thanks so much for reading remember that reblogging and replies are the best way to support your fic writers

Tag list Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken

Taglist for Really Drives Me Mad: @yunnie-f1 @josephquinnsfreckles @corrodedcoffincumslut @daisyridleyss @daniellabrandt @lail1010 @spencerssatchel @b|4ckt00thgrin @ali-r3n @t-click73 @vintagehellfire @hellfirefiend @kittydeadbones @luumunson @uncxmfxrtablex @eddiesgfffffffffff @hkurbsjundebi @eddies-puppet @joantje @novelnovella @shady-the-simp @lma1986 @mischieftom @strangerfan3691 @crayongirl-linz @dumblittlebunbun @ick90 @emilyshortcake @lemonmintseltzer @joannamuns9n

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader smut #older eddie munson x you #older eddie munson x reader #older eddie munson #older!eddie x reader #older!eddie munson #older!eddie

[gojo-mochi]

My Babysitter turned into a Dog?!

 You were supposed to babysit Yuuji today but instead you found a stranger in Choso's house...Dilf!Kenjaku 

CW: Dubcon/Noncon (Usage of Hypnosis), Manipulation, P/V, Creampie, Oral (M & F-Receiving), Fingering, Overstimulation, Light Choking. Dom Kenjaku. Puppy Play. Nonconsensual Recording. Breeding kink. Belt Collar. Bit of blood play.

A/N: Manga Spoilers! I wanted to do this back in Dec… but events happened…. But hey Alexa plays “Daddy’s Home” by Usher . Papa is back with the milk, choban^i oat milk to be exact (it really good you should try the creamer). Blah Blah Blah not gonna dump my feelings here just go on and read the smut you wild animals. 

PS: I don't know what happened to the smut part, another part of me took over and went wild so it might be different from my other pieces, be warned

Part of this event!

Word Count: 11k 

You carefully stomped your way over to Choso’s place, pulling up your scarf over your nose as another blast of winter frost came your way. You promised Yuuji that you would make snowmen with him today, but it doesn’t seem like the weather is going to die down anytime soon. You hummed to yourself as you made your usual trek to the quiet and grand house where Choso and Yuuji lived. You first met Yuuji when he got lost and ended up wandering around in front of your apartment. He was the sweetest little boy you ever met, albeit a bit hyper at times. 

His round and chubby cheeks were stained with tears, calling out for “Big bro Choso!” You crouched down near him and soothed him enough to get some information; he instantly took a liking to you, clutching onto your hand as you walked him back to his house. Halfway through, he started babbling about everything and anything—his friends at school, his big brother, his family, the cereal he likes. All sense of panic and fear quickly vanished with you by his side. As you stepped onto the driveway of Yuuji’s house, a disheveled-looking man with twin hair buns came running out of the house, diving straight for Yuuji. Holding him in a tight bear hug for a quick minute, then letting go so he could check over for any injuries as words spilled out from his lips. 

He didn’t even notice you were there until Yuuji wiggled out of his grasp and went back to hug your leg. You looked down at this “Big bro” as his mouth dropped in shock seeing his sweet little brother leave him for someone else. You took this chance to study his face a bit, noticing dark eyes covered in heavy purple shadow, multiple piercings, and a sad-kicked puppy looking pout adorning his lips as he called for Yuuji again. You had to stifle a laugh as Yuuji shuffled behind your leg even more. Yuuji’s older brother finally got back on his feet and introduced himself to you as ‘Choso’.

He told you that he was playing ‘hide and seek’ with Yuuji and was almost about to call the police when you rolled up. “I was tearing up the house looking for him.” Choso sighs out, looking at Yuuji, who now has a pout on his face as well, clutching at his shirt as his cheeks start to redden up again. He stepped out from behind you and ran to Choso, who quickly scooped him up in his arms. Holding him close as Yuuji gives out muffled apologies in between his sobs. Choso’s smooth baritone voice lulls both Yuuji and you somehow, as Yuuji’s sobs quiet down soon after.

Choso gently rubs Yuuji’s back and plants a soft forehead kiss as he brushes away his tears. “It’s alright; I’m not mad at you. I was just worried, that’s all. Next time we play hide and seek, just don’t leave the house, alright?” Yuuji burbled out more “Sowwies” and wiped his snot and tears on Choso’s shirt. Choso chuckles at the action, seemingly used to his little brother’s antics at this point. He shifts Yuuji on his arm and turns to look at you. “Thank you for taking care of my brother; I wouldn’t know what to do if something happened to him..” He shakes his head, shaking off any thoughts or visions of Yuuji being harmed.

“Let me pay you for bringing him back.” He steadies Yuuji on one arm as he reaches into his pocket with his other. You quickly wave your hands in front of you, “No, no! Really, it's fine! I’m just glad the little guy’s alright.” Yuuji pops up his head and looks your way as well, his chubby little hand reaching out for yours. You reach back out and let him wrap his entire hand around your thumb. Cooing softly, Choso watches on with a small blush on his face. Clearing his throat, he addresses you again. “Ah, I haven’t introduced myself, have I? I’m Choso, and you already seem to be acquainted with Yuuji here.” Said boy giggled happily, waving your hand up and down.

“Ah, right! The name’s Y/N; it’s really nice to meet you and Yuuji. I live in the apartment blocks just a couple of streets down.” Choso raised an eyebrow at that. “The student’s apartment? Are you going to Jujutsu Tech as well?” Yuuji released your thumb, giving you a chance to poke at his cheek, causing more giggles to spill out. “I do, actually! I’m studying hospitality currently; I’m guessing you go there too?” Choso nods, “Yeah, but I’m in criminal psychology. That must be why I haven’t noticed you on campus before.” Choso murmurs out the last part under his breath, hiding his blush with another cough. 

Your phone rings, reminding you that you have only two hours left before your test closes online. You silently cursed to yourself, forgetting all about it. You wave goodbye to Yuuji and Choso, “Sorry, I forgot I had a test to do online tonight! I’ll see you around campus though, later!” You start sprinting back to your apartment, leaving behind a bewildered Choso and a waving Yuuji. Yuuji tugs at Choso’s shirt, “Can we see the nice lady again, Cho-Cho?” Choso runs a hand through his hair and sighs, “I hope so, I sure hope so…”

As luck would have it, you did end up seeing them again; you don’t know how you didn’t recognize Choso before on campus. His style and fashion choices are super unique, so you were able to easily spot him. The two of you got more acquainted with each other by taking lunch breaks when you both had a free hour from classes and studying together in the library. Choso mentioned Yuuji and how he wanted to see you again and asked you, “My classes sometimes run from evening to night, and I usually leave Yuuji with a babysitter, but I think he prefers you more. Would it be alright if I asked you to babysit him sometime?” 

You readily agreed; you were also missing the little pink-haired toddler, so you didn’t mind. Choso offered to pay you the same rate as the babysitter, but you talked him down to only paying you half. Mentioning that it was no problem at all for you to babysit Yuuji. That was only a couple of months ago, and you got along so well with the two of them. Yuuji is a sweetheart and Choso, and while his outer appearance seems a bit dark and edgy, he was a huge dork and softball underneath all those layers of eyeshadow.

You finally reached the front porch of Choso’s grand house, shivering from the cold, you quickly brought out the keys that Choso gave you a while back. Turning the lock and stepping inside, “Yuuji! Choso! I’m here!” You called out, just in case they were already home. You checked your phone to see if any other text messages were sent from Choso. 

Cho-Cho:

Cho-Cho: “Hey, I’m going to the Preschool soon to pick up Yuuji but I got called into work today. :c Would you mind looking after Yuuji for me when I go back home to drop him off?

You: “Course not! Tell the little guy that I’ll be waiting for him at home!”

Cho-Cho: “Alright, Thanks! ^-^”

You sent a quick message to him, stating that you had arrived at the house. Taking off your snow boots and shrugging off your jacket, you stepped further into the house. Humming to yourself as you make your way into the kitchen and pull out two mugs, some hot cocoa mix, and mini marshmallows. The mugs clink together as you start preparing your sweet treat for you and Yuuji when he gets home. You were so caught up in your little song and dance that you didn’t notice a new presence coming into the kitchen as well. “Oh my, what’s this now?” It was a deep and smooth voice, but not like Choso's, and unless Yuuji got an incredible growth spurt, you were sure that the voice belonged to someone you did not know. 

You turned around quickly and found a tall, dark-haired man leaning on the kitchen counter. His eyes close to almost slit as he tilts his head and stares down at you. He loosens his tie as he observes you. “May I get the pleasure of knowing the name of the cute little intruder in my home?” He purrs out, and you fight hard to stop a blush from creeping up. “Your home? Last time I checked, this house belonged to Choso and Yuuji.” You backed up until you hit the counter, your hands quietly moving behind you to pull out a knife. The man tilts his head the other way, sort of akin to a cat watching over his prey; he stalks forward. “Choso and Yuuji? You mean my sons?”

Your hands start to tremble a bit under his gaze. He was close enough now to trap you between his body and the counter. “You’re their dad?” You questioned warily.

 Your eyes narrow at him, and a hiss almost escapes your lips as you take in his appearance. He was wearing a sleek dark suit, with the jacket taken off and the sleeves of his white button up rolled up the way to his elbows. The hair color might be similar to Choso, and the overall dark and edgy vibes kind of fit with Choso too, but this stranger looks nothing like Yuuji. Well, to be fair, Choso doesn’t look like Yuuji either. Your eyes travel up to his face, his snake-like eyes carefully watching over your next move, his pretty jawline and cheekbones, and his bangs that softly draped over one side of his face. 

 And… stitches? Stitches that form a line going across his forehead. You stared a bit too long at it as the stranger let out a chuckle. Brushing his hair away from his forehead, “What is it, hmm? Like what you see?” You reply with a garbled noise, the hand that was on the knife jumping up in shock and making a racket in the drawer behind you. The stranger lets out a bigger laugh this time, easily moving closer in, chest to chest, as his long arms reach behind you to take the knife from your hand and put it back in the drawer, closing it. “Little girls like you shouldn’t be playing around with knives, you know; didn’t your parents ever teach you any better?”

Normally, you would have been mad at this statement and the fact that he so casually came up close to you and touched you without permission. But there was something off about him—something that made your knees weak and your mind spin. Was it the type of cologne he uses? It was dark, cool, and intoxicating. Mint, berries, and whiskey—almost an odd combination, but it works wonders for him. Maybe it was how his voice sounded—the way he spoke near your ear, sending tremors down your spine. Velvety with an odd accent you couldn’t place a finger on, almost unhuman-like, like he was an alien trying to mimic human speech or a siren trying to lure you into his trap. 

The stranger took note of the look on your face and your body language, smirking as he didn’t move away from you, getting even closer in fact. Grabbing a hold of your chin and tilting it up so you could look directly into his eyes. “What’s wrong, pup? Cat got your tongue?” He purrs out heavenly, his hand colder than you expect; maybe he just got in from the winter front outside too. You shudder out a sigh when you see him lean in, your eyes closing down as you wait for the next action to take place. Then nothing; the coldness leaves you feeling nothing but a bit of shame and heat pooling in your stomach. 

The stranger walks away with a wide, toothy grin, wagging a finger at you. “Now, what did you think I was going to do to you, hmm, pup?” Your face flushed badly, and you stood up straight, feeling your mind get out of the fog now that he was away from you. “Don’t call me that, and you’re the weird one here! Didn’t your parents ever tell you to respect people’s personal space?” You cross your arms and huff out your cheeks, walking past him and taking out your phone to text Choso. The stranger, or, you should say, Choso’s dad, watches you stomp off, his eyes never leaving your form. 

Cho-Cho:

You: Hey!! Where are you?

Cho-Cho: Sorry, the storm got really bad here, so we’re hunkering down. We’re staying with the teachers now. -n-

Cho-Cho: You don’t have to come over anymore. 

You: Are Yuuji and the other kids ok? And also, I’m already here with your…. Dad :/ Hes kinda annoying tbh 

Cho-Cho: Oh right, dad's supposed to come home today. Yuuji and the kids are fine, they think it’s a sleepover. Yuuji keeps asking for you though :c

Cho-Cho: Don’t worry about dad too much, he's kinda weird but he means no harm. 

Cho-Cho: Oh, Yuuji calling for me, I gotta go help look after the kids. Call me if you need anything \o/

You frown at the last message, a part of you hoping for Choso to say that this guy wasn’t his dad so you could call the cops on him or something. You glance his way again, noticing his eyes closed in a fox-like smile. He is... oddly beautiful; you’ll give him that at least. You roll your shoulders back and make your way to the door. “Since Yuuji or Choso aren’t going to be here, I’ll just take my leave then.” You mumbled, your cheeks feeling a bit heated from being around this strange man so much. He calls after you, “I don’t think you should open that door, pup.” You roll your eyes, not wanting to fall for any more of his tricks. “And why’s that?” You sarcastically retort back as your hand twists the knob open. 

You barely opened it outward when the harsh winter wind blew the door wide open, almost throwing you to the ground as well. Snow and frost assaulted your vision. Your hands quickly tried to close the door again, to no avail, your boots slipping on the ice below you. Your eyes forced shut from the onslaught, you suddenly felt a tug on your hoodie, and you were pulled back into the house, and the door was slammed shut a few moments later. You kneeled on the ground, heaving out heavily as your body tried to regulate itself back to normal. 

A hand is placed softly on your hair, petting you, and a soothing tone comes out to try to calm you down. Another hand is placed on your cheek, the large flat of the palm covering your entire cheek as it lifts your face up.

 “There, there, you’re safe now. Hmm~, maybe next time you should listen to me?” You felt the warm breath of someone washing over your face as well, and your body reacted by leaning in closer to the source of the warmth. Sagging your head down until it reaches a comfortable place. Right in the crook of Choso’s dad's neck, his scent was comforting you, making you squish your face in closer.

His hand on top of your head continued petting you while his other traveled to your back. Rubbing up and down on your spine in a gentle manner, with enough pressure on his fingertips to make himself known there, The sound of a phone brings you out of your stupor; you lift your head sluggishly and blink at the face in front of you. The man gives you another toothy grin, pinching your cheek in a teasing manner. You scrambled back with a yelp, glaring furiously at him. He raised his hands in mock surrender. “You were the one coming on to me, pup.” He gets up and checks his phone, answering a call and giving you one last glance before walking off. 

You stood up after a while of pretending what happened just didn’t happen. Shuffling your way in the living room and flopping down on the couch, grabbing a pillow and clutching it to your chest like some sort of protection charm. You switched on the TV and tried to focus on the random Hallmark movie playing on screen. Choso’s dad soon comes to the living room and flops down right next to you. Knocking his long legs right into yours, you scrunch up your nose and scoot your legs a bit away from the man. “Come now, Y/N~ Let’s get along with each other~”

He coos at you with that sickening sweet tone of his, and you hiss at him, “I don’t recall ever telling you my name.” He raised an eyebrow back at you. “Choso and Yuuji often talk about a cute little girl with that name, and I just assumed it belonged to you, pup. And while we’re on the topic, you can call me Kenjaku or Daddy too if you prefer~” 

You almost threw your pillow at him for that last statement: “If you don’t like me calling you by your name, I’ll just stick to calling you pup then, or puppy perhaps?” He continues on, pretending not to notice how agitated you were getting. Sticking out his tongue at you childishly when you flipped him off. “Choso told me a lot about you; you know, he talks more about you than Yuuji does.” Kenjaku stares down at you with an indiscernible glint in his eyes. “I think it is only fair that I tell you a little about me, hmm?”

 He angles his legs towards you as he places an elbow on the back of the couch and leans on his hand. The realization comes over you once again of just how imposing this guy was; a simple action like that made it seem like he was still towering over you.

He taps a finger on his chin, eyes closed in thought, “Let’s see… What should I tell you about myself? Hmm, I like grilled fish and simmered vegetables, I’m a single parent to Choso and Yuuji, and…” He opens his eyes as his hand brushes away his bangs, fingers tracing along his stitches as he watches your face. Your eyes glued to the odd stitching lace on Kenjaku’s forehead. “Heh.. and I work as a hypnotherapist!” He claps his hands together loudly, making you jump back in shock. Your eyes flicker back to the stitches on his forehead. You wanted to ask him about it but that would be rude. So you just ask him the next question on your mind. 

“A hypnotherapist….?”You ask, unsure what exactly that means, Kenjaku nods, leaning in closer to you. “Just like a regular therapist, my dear. Expect I use some different techniques to get my clients to feel…. Better.” You don’t know why, but the way he said that sent a shiver down your spine. “Uh huh… so you just wave your hand around or make people look at a swinging pocket watch until they get better or something like that?” You lean back onto the couch, clutching the pillow tighter to your chest. Kenjaku smirks, “Not exactly, would you like to see my work in action?”

You raise an eyebrow at that, and Kenjaku gets up and stands in front of you. “I can see that you've been stressed lately, haven’t you? Exams, family issues, seasonal depression? Either way, I can help fix all that and make all your worries wash away~” You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “I’m not sure about th-” Kenjaku cuts you off by placing a finger on his lips in a shushing motion. “Just one try, and I promise I’ll leave you alone after. How does that sound, pup?” You pouted and thought about it for a moment. Your gut was telling you this was a bad idea, but something else inside you was curious to see how this would play out. 

“It would sound better if you stopped calling me ‘pup’, but fine, I'll try this hypnotherapy or whatever.” You cross your arms over the pillow and look up at Kenjaku, who has an extremely wide and delightful smile on his face. “Good, good. Now just sit back and relax. Close your eyes and just listen to my voice. Don’t think of anything but my voice now…” You did as you were told, sinking back into the couch and finding a comfortable position. Letting your eyes shut close and sighing out as you listen to Kenjaku’s voice guiding you.

“Breath in slowly, feel the air slowly fill your lungs…and expand in…..and….out”

“In…..and……out”

You took in a couple of deep and slow breaths, feeling your chest expand with air, the rise and fall of it lulling you into a sense of calm. Kenjaku did a couple counts of breathing with you, making you hold each breath a second longer than the last. Your shoulders lowered a bit after this small exercise, but you were still wary. Your face scrunched a bit as you listened more to Kenjaku’s instructions. 

“Hold your hands out for me, palms facing upwards, please.”

You hesitated for a bit but held out your hands, facing downwards, just to spite him a little. Kenjaku said nothing about it as his larger hands placed themselves over yours and flipped your hand around so your palms were facing up like he wanted them to be. Running his thumbs up and down your wrist and circling them softly on your pulse point. His other fingers slowly trailing behind, and his nails gently scraping the inside of your palm. In a methodical, rhythmic pattern, he continued to dance his fingertips on your palm, as he spoke again.

A pleasurable shiver was coursing through your body at the feeling of his fingertips dancing along your skin. “You’re a strong girl, aren’t cha? Hmm, I can tell, shouldering so many burdens lately. You poor thing…” He sighs out, thumb-tapping on your pulse point, almost matching the way your heartbeat was thumping against your chest. “Poor little girl… suffering so quietly so you wouldn’t burden the people around you. When’s the last time you did something for yourself, hmm? When’s the last time someone did something for you..” Your mind raced to think of something to answer his question with, you barely felt it when his hand crept its way up your arm. 

His nails lightly dragging down the length of your arm in a soothing manner, “You don’t need to answer me verbally, pup. I know… I know how strong you’ve been and how much you've been holding back. You're such a strong girl, doing so good. So good… You deserve a reward, don’t you think so?” It was weird, you could hear Kenjaku perfectly fine, but after some of his sentences, it felt like a second Kenjaku was whispering right behind your ear. It was weird but also oddly comforting? You agreed with everything he was saying so far; you did deserve a reward for working so hard lately.

“I can take care of that. I can take care of you… trust me… Trust me, won’t you?” His hands circle around your wrist, and you feel his presence get closer to you. Your eyes twitch, but you keep them closed. “I know you’ll trust me, smart girl, like you understand that I would never hurt you, right? I would never…” His minty breath sweeps over you. When did he get so close…? You start to lean in unconsciously, almost bumping your head with Kenjaku’s. A chuckle slips from his lips, and he rests his forehead on yours, interlacing his fingers with yours. “Good girl… You can find comfort in me; I am here for you… I can make you feel so good…trust me…” 

It wouldn’t be too bad of an idea to trust him, right? I mean, what the worst that could happen, you deserve something good to happen to you. One of his hands leaves your arm to delicately caress your cheek, his fingers playing with the soft flesh. His thumb softly running over your bottom lips, “Trust me? You can trust me… Let me show you how good I can treat you, puppy.” You nodded dumbly, trying to lean even more forward, accidentally pushing his thumb pass inside your mouth. Kenjaku’s laugh a bit loudly at this, slipping his thumb out and licking away at the small speck of salvia that came out.

“Impatient aren’t we, pup?” 

He leans down, pressing his lips onto yours, firmly gripping on to the back of your neck. He gives you small smooches on your lips, pressing each one longer than the last. You tug on his shirt, feeling a pit of warmth start to bubble inside you. A small whine comes from you. You’re a good girl; shouldn’t you deserve more than just small kisses? Your eyes flutter open to finally take a look at him. Was he always this handsome and ravishing? The background seems a little blurry to you; the only thing that you could see clearly was Kenjaku. You kept tugging on his shirt to pull him in closer. 

“Hmm? What’s wrong, pup? Can’t use your words? Silly puppy… of course you can’t, puppies can’t speak after all. All you need to do is bark when I say so, and whine when you need something, alright?”

His fingers start to trail down your spine; “Very simple thing, I know that a smart puppy like you would have no problem following these simple rules, right?” Before you could answer, he pressed his lips on you again, holding his lips against yours almost suffocatingly. Still, there was no tongue in this kiss, and you were getting impatient. You paw at his shirt, unbuttoning the top two buttons sloppily. Kenjaku stops your hands and holds your chin up, a disappointed look is painted on his face. “Patient, pup. No need to act so unruly now.” Something in your chest got twisted, and you felt the air get punched out of you. You didn’t want to disappoint Kenjaku. For some reason, seeing him with that face made you instantly back down.

Kenjaku holds you in place though, a smile reappearing on his face, swiping his thumb over your bottom lip. “Good puppy, I know you didn’t mean to be bad… my puppy… Sweet girl, you’re still ready for more, right?” You start nodding but stop halfway as a part of your brain starts to wake up a bit, the fog clears a bit. Your mouth opens to speak but Kenjaku shushes you with his tongue this time, slipping it inside and brushing against your own tongue. The fog comes slamming back full force into you once again. Your hands clutch on to Kenjaku’s shirt once more as he leans you back onto the couch, pressing his body directly on top of you.

Kenjaku holds you in place though, a smile reappearing on his face, swiping his thumb over your bottom lip. “Good puppy, I know you didn’t mean to be bad… my puppy… Sweet girl, you’re still ready for more, right?” You start nodding but stop halfway as a part of your brain starts to wake up a bit, and the fog clears a bit. Your mouth opens to speak, but Kenjaku shushes you with his tongue this time, slipping it inside and brushing against your own tongue. The fog comes slamming back full force into you once again. Your hands clutch on to Kenjaku’s shirt once more as he leans you back onto the couch, pressing his body directly on top of you.

He kissed with precision and a carnal greed, his tongue overlapping over yours, coating it out and sucking on the wet muscle, making you groan with need. He grinds his hips on you, giving you that much-needed, delicious friction right on your core. He takes your hands and places them right above your head. 

“Keep 'em here, pup.” He growls out, lifting up the hem of your hoodie and pulling it up and over, doing the same to your shirt underneath until you were left bare with only a bra covering your chest. Your arms try to move down to cover yourself from his heated gaze, but Kenjaku snaps his fingers at you, “Ah, ah. I didn’t say you could move yet.” Your arms snapped back up in haste, and an embarrassed blush dusted your cheeks. Kenjaku coos at you, patting your cheek softly with the palm of his hand, “Good girl~ Keep being good for me… Now, let me start my second phase of treatment, hmm?” He trails his hand down from your cheek down onto your shoulder, playing with the strap of your bra. 

 Hooking a finger underneath it, sliding it slowly off your shoulder, and doing the same on the other side. Pushing down your bra just enough so your perky nipples could pop over the top. He lets out a content sigh upon seeing them, leaning in so his breath could tickle over your pretty little nubs. You shivered at the contact, and your arms shook a little too, starting to feel a bit tired from holding them up for so long. But you didn’t want to disappoint Kenjaku again, what if he stopped his treatment? Still,  you were getting a little impatient with how slow he was going. You wiggle a bit, and a small pout adorns your lips.

Kenjaku glances up at you, chuckling softly. “My, my. Such a needy pup, aren’t you? But I suppose that’s my fault. I did tell you that I would take care of you, didn’t I?” He guides your arms down to your side; “Keep them there, and don’t touch me until I tell you to, alright? It's for your good.” Your answer was cut short by a moan as Kenjaku’s tongue flicked out to ravish your nipple. Swirling around the swollen bud with the tip of his tongue, his hand comes up to play with the other side, groping and pinching your breast in all the right places. Your hands dig into the couch, trying to steady yourself from the onslaught. Your head tilts back as he finally puts his mouth on you.

Capturing your pretty little nub in his mouth and sucking harshly, teeth scraping over your sensitive flesh. He used his free hand to sneak down and unbutton your pants, just enough so he could fit his hand under and tease the outline of your pussy over your panties. Kenjaku was skilled at toeing the line between pain and pleasure, pinching and biting so often but not enough to make it truly hurt, always pushing you to the edge and then bringing you back down softly. Running his tongue over the bite marks, soothing the pain away, his hand on your chest gently rubbing on any red marks he left, while the other one distracts you by thumbing over the swell of your clit through your panties. 

 A delicate dance that he was the lead in, forcing you to play along to his whims. You could barely hear your own pathetic moans or feel how wet you were getting; the fog in your brain was overcome by the increasing pleasure. At some point, he pulled your pants to the side and started to rub the pad of his thumb directly on your clit, tracing nonsensical words or patterns on it to keep you on the edge. He leans up and away from your marked chest, to whisper in your ear, his husky voice giving back-handed praises that you couldn’t wrap your head around, it only made you all the wetter. 

 Your hips bucked up to get more friction for your much-needed release, if only Kenjaku wasn’t pushing you back down by the hips each time you tried. “Ken-Kenjaku, please! I deserve it, right?” You blubbered out, tears falling down your cheeks, which Kenjaku happily wiped away with his tongue. “I’m a good girl….” You whined, bucking your hips even more as Kenjaku increased the pace of his thumb. 

He only hummed in response, licking a stripe up your cheek and placing a small kiss on the corner of your eye. “I didn’t know that my sweet puppy was such a slut. Poor thing, did all of those college boys fail to give this pussy what she needs?”

He slowed his pace down but slipped a finger in your sopping wet entrance, still finding some resistance and tightness even with all the buildup. Your body moves to try to adjust to Kenjaku’s long finger, but he quickly shushes you, planting more kisses on your tear-stained face. “You do deserve it; you’re right. You are my good puppy after all… All mine now... Say that you’re my good puppy, and I’ll let you cum, hmm?” He slipped in another finger to add to the stretch as your mouth parts opened to give him his answer. A choked moan escaped your lips, and you struggled to form the words he was looking for.

“I-I’m your good puppy.”

“Again.” He starts to scissor his finger, the stretch starts to become a little painful.

“I’m your good puppy..”

“Louder.” His thumb stops its assault on your clit but his fingers keep plunging deep into your cunt.

“I’m your good puppy!” 

Your scream was mixed with the lewd, squelching sound of your wet cunt as he returned his thumb and your hips jerk up in rhythm with his fingers. Your hands left the couch to find purchase on Kenjaku’s shoulders, digging in as your body arced off the couch, an intense orgasm ripping its way through your body. Kenjaku pulls out his fingers until only one remains in your cunt, curled in a bit to still tease your g-spot. His thumb smears your slick on the area above your clit, occasionally grazing it and laughing at how your body twitches each time it does.

Pulling out his finger as whimpers formed on your lips, “Good puppy~ Since you did so well, I’ll overlook you speaking without turn this time.”  

He lifts up his soaked hand and smears his fingers on your lips, parting them open and slipping them on your awaiting tongue. Coating your wet muscle with your own sweet slick, his long fingers descend further down your mouth, almost reaching your gagging point. 

“You’re still hungry for more, aren’t you? I know that something as simple as that wouldn’t be enough to satisfy my greedy pup.. My good puppy… Just keep listening to me, and I'll treat you right.” He holds your chin in his other hand and shakes it up and down to make it seem like you were nodding. You try to gurgle out an answer with his fingers still shoved down your throat, but he laughs and kisses the bridge of your nose with a twinkle in his eye.

“No, puppy. It’s alright, no more words; just let me do all the talking until I tell you to.”   

Once his fingers left your mouth, a string of salvia connected along with it. You swallowed down the building drool in your throat and looked up at him expectantly. “Hips up now, come on.” He pats your ass, hooks his fingers in your waistband, and swiftly pulls them off of you. Your cute, soaked panties were now on display as he palmed the front a bit, making you shiver and buck up to ride the palm of his hand. He sighs mirthfully at your eager display, lifting your ass up again so he could pull these off as well, stuffing the garment in his pocket. 

He pats your cheek with a smile for listening so well and shuffles downward on his knees, lifting your own knees up and placing the flats of your foot on the couch as he settles down between them. A sudden wave of embarrassment befell you as you looked down and felt your drenched cunt start to stain the fabric of the couch. A whine emits from your throat, and you were about to speak, but a cursory glance upward from Kenjaku made you shut your mouth entirely.  

He didn’t say anything at that moment, but your mind spoke for him. “Good puppies don’t speak unless told.”  

You settled for another whine, hoping he would get your discomfort, but if he did, he didn’t do anything about it. Instead, he starts his next phase of treatment by trailing open-mouth kisses on the side of your thighs, down to your hip line, and right next to the place you want his tongue to be on the most. He left little nips and marks here and there, making you squirm and wiggle on the couch, his hands firmly grasping on the thick part of your thighs, pushing you backwards on the couch. He kissed right about your needy little clit, tongue darting out to spell his name right above it.

“K…E…N…J…A…K…U…”

As he finishes tracing the outline of the "U” he leans back, admiring his handiwork so far and the way your pussy keeps clenching around nothing. Using his thumb to spread your lips even further, he descends at an agonizingly slow pace, keeping his dark hazel eyes on your face the whole way down. It felt like forever until his lips finally touched your sweet, swollen clit, sucking on the nub softly. Tongue flicking out like a devilish snake, licking up and down your cunt, mapping out the spots in his head of where you’re most sensitive. 

Your nails claw into the couch as mewls and whines pass your lips as Kenjaku works his tongue on your cunt. Nose often bumping into your clit, giving you that nice jolt of pleasure as he maneuvers your thighs over his shoulder, making you cross your legs over his neck as he pushes you back deeper on the couch. Moving forward along with you, sticking out his tongue and bobbing his head up and down as he tongue-fucked your tight little hole.

 You couldn’t buck up your hips or try to move away; his arms were coiled around your thighs, and he put all of his weight and power into it. Leaving you a helpless victim to his divine and torturous assault, your thighs squeeze around your head, but that didn’t deter Kenjaku in any way; in fact, it might even be fueling him to go in even deeper into your willing cunt. 

You vaguely wonder if he could even breathe from his position; that fleeting thought was quickly replaced by the coil in your stomach burning red hot and snapping instantly as Kenjaku moves his lips back up to suck on your clit. You lock your ankles together behind his back as your body shakes and jolts on the couch, and you feel odd vibrations as Kenjaku’s groans deeply when inhaling your sweet cream. Leaning his head back a bit to give small kitten-like licks on your trembling pussy as you ride out your orgasm. 

You pants out small burst of air, glad to have some relief, but that only lasts for a moment as Kenjaku moves one of his hands from gripping on to your thigh to gently pull up on your pussy, lifting the small hood up and showing off more of your clit. His mouth is back on you, sucking quite harshly this time. Playing with your swollen clit on his tongue, the hand on your thigh gripping dig in your soft flesh. The tension inside your belly rapidly tightens and snaps into another blinding orgasm. Your vision goes white for a bit as you scream and thrash around on the couch.

Your chest heaves up and down as you catch air back in your lungs, tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as you calm down. All the while, Kenjaku calmly holds your face in his hands, thumb wiping away at any fallen tears, his voice lulling out soft praises to you. 

“Good Puppy…”

“You did so well for me, you liked it, right?”

“I know you did, it was quite clear to see.” 

He leans down to press a kiss right above your forehead, patting your head and murmuring more things that flow directly in your head. 

“We’re not done yet, pet.” 

“We have so much more to do… you can handle it, can’t you?” 

“My big girl.. My precious puppy is so strong.. She can handle another session, can’t she?” 

His fingers tilted up your chin so you were trapped in his vision once more, his eyes darken as he asked you directly this time. 

“You won’t disappoint me, now, will you?” 

His tone shifted, and your senses immediately picked up on that fact. Your body stiffened up, and you nodded frantically. Shoulder straightening back, eyes wide, and your hands came put together on your lap. Kenjaku smiles at your instant obedience, giving you plenty of kisses on your face to show how much he enjoys this reaction from you. Hands squishing your cheeks together and shaking you a little, much like how someone would do the same to a cute dog. 

He takes a deep sigh and smiles wide, showing off some of his teeth. Were his teeth always this sharp…? He gives your cheeks one last pinch and stands up in front of you, his hands coming down to unbuckle his belt. Pulling the leather strap out of the loops with practiced ease, he holds the black accessory in his hands and looks down at you with an eerie grin on his face. You fidget a bit and twiddle with your thumbs, awaiting his next move. 

“Though it’s not exactly a collar… and it is not as pretty as I would like it to be. This would work for now.” He muses to himself as he grabs your face forward, and moves the belt around your neck. Your breath hitched in your throat as the cool metal of the buckles slid around your soft skin. He loops the belt in and gives it a test tug at the end to see how it fits on you. It was a loose fit, but it still felt constricting by the way Kenjaku had the hold on the end of the belt, pulling it up so you were forced to look up as well. 

“Come now, pet. We shall move this little therapy session elsewhere.”

He ushers you off the couch and as you were about to stand up fully, he stopped you; “Aht Aht, puppies don’t walk like humans, get on all fours like a good girl.” You completely froze up at this point; your brain slowly started to unravel from the spell Kenjaku put on you, and your face scrunched up in confusion. Kenjaku quickly realizes this and is quick to snuff out any flames that were lighting back up inside of you. He pats your head softly with a practiced smile on his face. 

 “Ah, sorry puppy. I forgot this was only your first day. No worries, we can work on that part next time. For now…” He bends down to scoop you up in his arms. “I’ll carry you as an apology, so don’t be too mad at me, alright?”

 He taps your nose with his pointer finger and rests his forehead against yours, whispering as he looks at you directly, eye to eye. His hazel eyes seem to get darker the more you stare into them; his words echo in your mind, lulling you back down to that pliant state.

“You’ll forgive me, right? I am so so sorry, after all…” 

His fangs stood out more at this angle, poking out when he smiled at you, one hand holding you up while the other caressed your face. You nuzzle right into the palm of his hand, forgetting all about what happened before, even though the belt was still looped around your neck. He placated you further by smothering your face in soft kisses. You giggled at the sensation, not realizing that he was already walking away from the living room with you in his arms. 

The bedroom door clicks behind you two as Kenjaku sets you down on your feet. Hand brushing against the belt on your neck. Placing one last kiss on your lips this time, letting the feeling linger, his hands gently hold on to your waist as he pushes his body against yours. Grinding his hard bulge right against your body, his hands lower down to cup at your naked ass, sneaking a hand in between and swiping at your still-slick folds, teasing you a little.

“Oh, puppy, do you feel that? Feel how hard I am for you, right now.” He grunts lowly in your ear, pressing his body onto you once more. 

“Can you help me with that, pet? You’ll be such a good puppy for me if you do…and I know how much you want to be good for me..”

He was right, he was unusually right about you most of the time, you did want to be good for him, to earn more of his sweet praise. So when he placed a hand on your shoulder and lowered you to your knees, you obeyed. 

Kneeling down in front of Kenjaku, his pants easily taken off with his belt already gone. Your mind buzzes with odd excitement upon seeing him put out his leaking and throbbing cock, like you were made for this moment. To always be kneeling in front of this man, to serve him like a dutiful servant, an obedient puppy. Kenjaku tugs upward on the end of the belt collar, cupping your chin in your hand as he angles your face towards his cock. 

“You know what to do, right, pup?”

You did; your body knew exactly what to do and how to please him, your tongue lolled out as your mouth opened up. Kenjaku keeps a hand on the belt but lets go of your chin as he slides his cock into your awaiting mouth. Letting out a low hiss at the feeling of your warm mouth greeting him, your cheeks automatically suck in as his length starts to slowly rub against the back of your mouth. You taste his precum that was leaking out—slightly salty but not overpowering. He fucks your mouth softly and sweetly, getting you accustomed to the feeling at first. His hand gently pulls on the belt around your neck, pushing and pulling you forward and backward on his cock.  

A gentle rhythm, gradually letting your mouth and throat get used to the shape of Kenjaku’s cock. After a while, his cock starts hitting deeper parts of your throat, and you gag a little when it goes a little too far. Kenjaku soothes you by petting your hair and tucking your hair behind your ear as he guides you this time. A hand weaves in your hair now, grabbing onto your locks as he slides his cock back deeper in, nail-scraping the back of your head as he shows you how to put all of him inside your mouth. Your nose is buried in the tuft of hair at the base of his thick cock. 

 “Look up at me, puppy.” You barely realized now that your eyes were closed this entire time. Blinking away some tears, you look up at Kenjaku. Only to find your reflection in the camera lens of his phone, staring right back down at you. He tugs your hair back a bit, cooing at your expression. 

He slides his cock out, and drool comes out with it—a sticky string of saliva connected from the bulbous head to the tip of your tongue. Dripping down to your chin as Kenjaku slaps the tip of his cock on your tongue, “Come on now, pup… stick your tongue out for me.” He uses his free hand to push away any strands of hair in the way.

“Good girl, fuck…. Look at you, so naughty, hmm?”

He takes a few pictures of your tongue out with his cock sliding in and out of your mouth, some with his cock pushed all the way inside your cheek, making it bulge out the side, and his other hand on your head, petting you anytime you start to get angsty. Giving you praise and soothing your worries away with his baritone and smooth voice. Pushing your mind deeper and deeper into the abyss, reinforcing how much of a good puppy you are for him and how much you wanted to please him too.

“Let's see if we can make a good video, shall we?”

He takes out his cock again, all covered in your spit. Preparing his phone in the right position as he hits the record button this time. “Alright now, puppy… Let’s show the camera your pretty face.” He pats your cheek and plants a thumb inside your mouth, lolling your tongue out along with it. He lets out a content sigh, looking at your almost fucked-out expression, his cock twitches at the sight as well. 

“I want you to speak now, puppy. Speak for me, tell me just how much you love this cock that’s right in front of you.” 

He removes his thumb from your tongue and grabs his cock, shaking it in front of you mockingly, like it was a special treat. You gulp down to clear your throat of leftover cum and saliva, your eyes glance from the length in front up to the phone in Kenjaku’s hand.

“Say; ‘Please Master… give me your cock, I need you so badly’ just like a good girl would.”

‘Master..? Was Kenjaku your master now? Master… Master… Master Kenjaku? Somehow the words roll off just right when you echo it back in your mind. 

You kept looking up, the phone directly in your line of vision, when you were really just trying to look at Kenjaku’s face. Your voice came out more soft-spoken than before.

"Please, Master Kenjaku, please reward me with your cock for being a good girl.” Your hands clutch on to the ends of his shirt as you keep on pitifully begging for a treat from your master. 

Kenjaku’s face slips, and he lets out a feral grin at your words, “Going off script? Hah….. I love it. Go on, keep begging me, my slutty puppy.” 

He taps his cock on your cheek and you instantly start rubbing on it, not caring about getting your face even messier by doing so. “Please, please, pleaseee! Master, I listened to you so well. I need your cock so bad. It feels so good when you touch me and let me have it. I need, need, need it!” 

You sneak in a couple of kisses and licks as you were rubbing on his cock, whining pathetically all in front of the camera. Your mind was not even comprehending the lewd and embarrassing words you were spewing out right now or the actions your body was doing, that small rational part of your brain was pushed all the way back. Locked away by Kenjaku’s voice telling you that this was the real you now, what you really craved, what you always wanted. 

To serve someone, to have someone praise you for being a good puppy, a naughty slut… 

It feels good to have Kenjaku pet your hair as he slips his cock back into your awaiting mouth, shoving it all the way in this time. Making you choke on the sheer girth of it at first before the length of it hits you in the back of your throat. Your cheeks were already feeling a little sore from how hard he was pushing, and you gagged a little when he tried to put your head down even more. He pulls your hair back away from his cock. You choke out a little bit of spit, coughing and sputtering. 

Kenjaku wipes away the spit from your chin as he looks back down at you, sighing disappointingly, “I suppose you just aren’t ready for my cock yet.” He shakes his head, but he still keeps his phone lens on your face. “Guess we just have to move on…” He moves his other hand away from your head, and your stomach drops. You clutch on to his shirt, shouting out, “Wait!” Kenjaku hides his reaction from seeing your outburst, maintaining a neutral face.

“Yes? What is it puppy?”

You whimpered and tugged at his shirt; your lips quivered as you began to beg once more. “I-I can do it! I can take it all, please let me try again!” 

Kenjaku’s lips twitch at your display, placing his hand back on your head, weaving his fingers in your locks, and tugging it back. “You sure, puppy? Are you sure you want this?” You nod your head instantly. "Speak, puppy, tell me that you want it again.” 

“I want your cock, please! I can be good this time! I-I won’t choke, I promise!” You were desperate to please Kenjaku, who just shook his head at you, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and lovingly squeezing your cheeks together so your lips puckered in an ‘O’ shape. “It’s alright, my sweet girl. Choking and gagging are part of the process; I’ll just go slower this time. Let you get used to the shape of my cock, hmm?”

He pokes the head of his cock back on your puckered lips, squeezing your cheeks together one last time and placing his hand back behind your head as he pushes you down once again. Your jaw is still sore, but it helps, as you were getting numb to the feeling. You flatten down your tongue as his cock slides over. This time, Kenjaku holds your head in place, rolling his hips forward as he face-fucks you sluggishly, drool accumulating in your cheeks with each slow thrust. The lewd noises it was making were loud enough for the phone to capture. Kenjaku lets you choke on about half of his length for a while before trying to force it all the way in. 

“Now close your eyes and breathe in through your nose for me…good girl…”

You did as he commanded, still gagging when he shoves your face all the way down to the base of his cock, his pubes tickling your nose, and just before you start choking on it for real, he pulls you back. Letting you breathe for air, taking a small break before he pokes his cock head back against your lips, and you open up for it once more. Going back all the way down, staying there for a bit longer this time, and then he lets you go. Repeating this process over and over again, his cock sliding in and out of your pretty mouth.

Repeatedly hitting the back of your throat with each thrust, he had you stay down there for longer and longer until he was fully face-fucking you now. Kenjaku was letting his walls down a bit at this point as well, letting out deep groans and moans, cursing under his breath once he started to feel his balls tighten up. 

“Fuck… that’s it, puppy. Take it, take my fucking cock like the good cock-slut you are.” 

The hand holding the phone shakes a bit as he shoves his cock deep down your throat, way past your gagging point, but at this point, it doesn’t matter anymore. Not when his cock is practically about to burst, and you shouldn’t care about anything else but servicing his cock. You should be happy that Kenjaku was so willing to give you all his creamy cum directly down your gullet. With his hand gripping your hair tightly and one last groan, Kenjaku spills his cum in your slutty mouth, forcing you to drink as much of it as possible from the position you were in. 

He slid his cock out of your mouth, your messy face covered in drool and cum. The recording light on the phone went off, and Kenjaku pocketed his phone with a happy sigh. Tugging upward on your leash as he brings you back to your feet, only then did you realize how much your knees were hurting from kneeling down for so long. 

He wipes away the sticky mess on your cheeks with swipes of his fingers, praising you in a tender tone as you lean into his embrace. One arm around your waist to keep you from falling over as he finished gathering up any remaining cream.

“Say ‘Ah’, my sweet puppy.”

He smears the sticky mess on your tongue, making sure you clean up every single last bit of it from his fingers. Cooing at your obedience, once he was satisfied with your work, he rewarded you with a long and loving kiss on the lips. Tasting himself on your sweet tongue, you fully accepted it, arms thrown around his shoulders, letting your body sink into his. He chuckles at your actions, grabbing you by the waist, easily lifting you off the ground, and spinning you around. His lips never leave yours as he plops you down on the bed with him on top. 

He tugs on your leash and pulls away, looking down at you, the back of his hand caressing your cheek in a fond manner. 

“You know… It would be quite ironic if I were to fuck you in doggy style while you’re in this state...” He whispers, not talking to you, just voicing his thoughts out loud as you snuggle against his hand. Your eyes just glazed over at his words, barely listening, as you could tell this wasn't a command. His hand lowers down to grasp at your neck, barely applying enough pressure to his fingertips, so you know he has it there. 

“I think, though, since it's our first night together, one of many… I’d rather fuck you while you could look at me and remember this moment forever.” He rips open his shirt’s buttons, leaving you with a full view of his toned abs. His other hand wanders down as he positions himself in between your legs. His thighs pushing yours apart, giving him access to your still wet pussy. He snaps his fingers in front of your face and gets your attention. 

“Puppy, I want you to do something for me now. If you want your Master’s cock to fuck you..." He emphasized the word “Cock” and slapped his hard length right on your pretty clit. Making jolt up and yelp a little at the contact. “I want you to take your cute little hands and spread open your pussy for me. Can you do that for me, puppy?” He rubs the tip of his length into small circles on your clit, making you mewl and buck your hips for more friction, but he holds your hips down with his hands and makes a disapproving noise.

It quickly stops your movement, and you whimper out an apologetic noise, your hands slowly coming down your body to not accidentally anger your master once again. Stopping right on either side of your pussy. Kenjaku nods at this, “Good… Good… Now, take your thumbs and spread it out for me and watch. Watch as I fuck you and take you as mine.” Your hands shake a bit as Kenjaku starts to slide his veiny cock down from on top of your clit, sliding right down the middle of your pussy, making you feel his throbbing veins as he pokes the thick head at your entrance. Your thumbs stretch out to the edges of your drooling cunt, doing as your Master commanded and spreading it out for him.

Kenjaku rolls his hips forward, his fat cock slipping past your entrance with each roll of his hips, rutting against your clit. Making you even more riled up than before, whining for him to fuck you already. His hands dig into the plush flesh of your waist to stop you from squirming at the sensation. Only when you felt like actually using words to beg him to do something else did he stop and fully slammed his length all the way. 

You yelped and cried out at the sudden intrusion, scrambling backwards to get away from the abrupt burst of pain, only to be pulled right back in by your hips. Kenjaku’s fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass. Smacking you on his cock, your slick and drool cover his cock, making it quite easy for him to keep ramming into you. The squelching noises got louder and louder with each harsh slap against your hips. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on anything but the pain and solely on the pleasure, but your head and body kept bouncing off the bed, making you a bit dizzy. 

Your hands search around for something to grab hold of, to steady yourself on, but even trying to clutch on the bed sheet proved futile with how hard Kenjaku was fucking you. Your legs forcefully spread around his waist, his hands cupping your ass up in the air as he rutted inside you, bucking his cock up at the same time he was holding you down. Just nonstop bouncing on his length, your poor pussy had no choice but to stretch and fit to his size. Still,  it felt like with each roll of his hips, he was reaching deeper and deeper inside your cervix.

Finally, Kenjaku seemed to take notice of your dilemma, or he just noticed how you were keeping your eyes closed and biting your lips. He let go of your ass and grabbed your wrists with one hand. Slamming them down beside your head, he kept up his rhythm, abusing your tight, needy cunt as he leaned down to face you. 

His minty breath washes over you, his lips ghosting and his tongue softly licking at your chin and cheek. Wiping away your fallen tears, “Puppy.. Puppy… Open your eyes, I want you to look at me when I fucking claim you. When I mark this pussy as mine, do you understand? I want you to be present for every single moment your Master’s cock slides into your desperate cunt.” 

He interlaced your fingers together with his tongue, lapping up the small dribble of blood leaking from the wound on your bottom lips. You were biting so hard that you didn’t even notice your wound until now. Kenjaku sucks on your bottom lips when you don’t answer fast enough for his liking, running his warm tongue over and over again on your bleeding gash. Your eyes blink away some tears before fully opening to find Kenjaku staring at you. His eyes open half-lidded, but his attention is fully focused on your cute face, your expressions, and the lost and hazy swirl of confusion in your eyes.

“Is my puppy ready to be taken? Are you gonna be my good girl and let me mark your insides?” He bit down on your lips and pulled back, making the gash even bigger, with more blood dribbling out. You whine and start to close your eyes again, but Kenjaku removes one of his hands to grab at your throat. Squeezing it enough to cause you to choke on a moan as he starts to move his hips again. Dragging his length up and down inside your walls, his hand squeezing harder each time he reaches your cervix. 

“Eyes open, puppy.”

His voice drops an octave deeper, forcing your head to tilt back, a whimper stuck in your throat. You had to obey; this was a real command, one that promised severe punishment if you did not follow. You open up your eyes as best as you can when tears are still pouring out of them, and you manage at best to force a grimace on your face. Still, seeing you try and listen to his order made Kenjaku happier, with his hand leaving your neck, roaming down your plush body, and hiking up your knees to your chest. 

Throwing your legs over his shoulders as he fully presses his weight on you, one hand pressing down lightly on the bulge in your stomach. At this angle, he was hitting your cervix even deeper than before. His thumb extended down to play with your clit as he kept pushing down on your stomach. Thrusting in and out of your wet and sensitive cunt, he lets loose freely, grunting and moaning at the feeling of your pussy sucking him in. 

Your puffy clit suffered so much abuse that, with the addition of his thumb rubbing tight little circles on it, it made you clench down tight on his hard cock. Your eyes started to roll backwards as Kenjaku sped up his pace. Your body bouncing up and down on the mattress, your tits jiggling with each pounding you take.

“That’s it, puppy. My dumb fucking puppy, don’t think anymore…fuck… don’t think, just let Master’s cock do all the work for you.” 

“You’re gonna let Master breed this tight little pussy, won’t you? Oh-hahh, I’d bet you look good with my seed spilling out of you.” 

He used his free hand to shake your head up and down, forcing you to nod. Drool seeped out the side of your open mouth, coating his fingers, but he didn’t care. 

You felt your stomach get tighter and tighter as his thumb kept on rubbing away at your clit, his cock slamming into your cervix, and your legs dangling uselessly over his shoulders. Your body just being used as a fucktoy for your master now, and you love it. 

You tried to mumble out something to let your master know you were close, but it all just came out in jumbles, whines, and whimpers. Luckily, your master knows exactly what you were trying to say, and he could feel your cunt start to clench more and more around him. 

“Yeah, puppy? Hmm? You want to cum? You want me to cum in you?” You rely with a long whine at Kenjaku’s mocking tone. 

“Yeah? Does my sweet dumb puppy want her master to cum inside her?” His hand shakes your head up and down again, whimpers, and drool coats your lips. Remembering his previous command, you struggled but managed to open your eyes back up, and that was the tipping point for Kenjaku. Seeing the fucked-out and dazed look on your pretty face made his ball tighten up and his cock twitch heavily inside you. He made sure to bury his cock deep inside your womb first before giving you the sweet treat you've been craving.

Spilling all his sticky seed inside of you, his thumb and forefinger pinched at your clit. Pushing over that edge once more, your cunt and legs are both spasming around him. With a high-pitched whine along with Kenjaku’s guttural groan, you both finished, your scent and juices mixing in with each other, becoming one. Kenjaku’s hands slither up to your face as he leans down to plant a gentle smooch on both your cheeks, letting your eyes close down softly. 

“You’re mine now… sweet puppy…”

His words echo in your ears as the last of your energy is spent barely holding on. He sets your legs down and shuffles down next to you, petting your hair and resting your head on his chest, still whispering near your ear.

“Don’t worry though, I’ll keep you around, but I won’t break you… too hard.. I know how much Yuuji and Choso like you, heh.” 

“Next time, I’ll introduce you to them as the new..family..pet ♡”

#banner by cafekitsune #Softy Writes ( ˘▽˘)っ♨ #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #kenjaku smut #kenjaku x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[spicyyy-muffin]

Hide n Seek

Scare kink, size kink, this is literally pure smut please be warned. 18+

“catch me if you can”

i pressed my walkie on its specific channel to ghost.

“you’re an idiot y/l/n” he spoke through the Bluetooth device in my ear

“get outta my ear McTavish”

I climbed over old couches and rusted warehouse equipment. I needed to find a good place to hide that wasn't blown to pieces or see through.

turning off my walkie and even going as far as lowering the volume in the bluetooth device in my ear.

 I would never live it down if he found me.

“he's got tha name ghost fora reason, you daft dimbo.”

“don’t you think i’m aware?”

I crouched and squeezed in between a small space under an abandoned desk.

trying to make myself as small as possible, i curled up bringing any residue around me as a cover.

“He's gonna get you little one.”

The quiet groan of the door forced me to shut the device off completely.

his footsteps i couldn’t hear, aside for the slightest crunch in gravel beneath his combat boots growing increasingly closer to me.

looking through the cracks in the metal, no guns were drawn except for a knife in his right hand.

my heart sank, i trusted him with my life. but spooking a member of 141 was a death wish. and catching them at the wrong time would be a one way ticket to wherever my six feet deep hole waited for me. 

he slithered through the door, continuing to the next room while I waited for complete silence.

I opted for the door he came through, thinking he would be in an entirely different side of the building than me.

I kept my hands free of any weapon, preparing for the slightest sign I might have to run or crawl my way out.

I stood at the top of a flight of stairs. no sound, no lights, no gravel, I could have been alone.

a breath shot down my neck.

in seconds I was against a wall with a burly man pushing against me. his cool blade against the soft of my neck.

his eyes glowed into mine, heavy breaths breaking the silence.

"I thought you were the shit?"

I shuffled my arms underneath him trying to find a leeway. His eyes brightened in amusement.

The fabric on his face lifted revealing his mouth seconds before he dropped it to my neck.

The knife was digging into the left side of my neck, drawing blood in his wake. Hurting more the harder his kisses became.

“Ghost, Mctavish is- he’s right-” 

He brought his head up to look into my eyes, “at the bar two blocks from here. You underestimated my intentions for hide and seek sweetheart.” 

Pocketing the knife, his hands rustled with my clothing until they landed on the button of my jeans. 

On his knees he looked up to me. Even though he was supposed to be feeling vulnerable we both knew that I was the only submissive one here. 

“I wanna taste.” 

My fingers traced his plump lips first, short stumble scratching me.

I smiled looking down at him, trying to memoriize the outline of his beautiful face. 

“I want a kiss.”

In seconds his large hands covering my cheeks, lips ravishing mine as if we were running out of time. Time seemed to slow down when his tongue traced my bottom lip, pulling away to take a breath and pushing into me deeper. His hands were everywhere, m,y hair, taking a minute to wrap around my throat, he reached both of them down under my butt and lifted me on his waist. 

A few inches above him again he pulled away to look up to me. 

“Don know how long I can do this sweetheart.” 

He panted onto my mouth. 

“I wanna taste you so bad but another part of me is saying I should jus fill you to the brim.” 

A hot bolt of arousal shot down my stomach into my clit. 

I laughed against his lips kissing them one more time. “Maybe you should just hurt me.” 

He groaned pressing his forehead onto mine. 

“There you go saying some dumb shit again.” 

My back pressed against the cold concrete floor, combat pants somewhere across the room his head was in between my legs and he wasted no time. 

Switching between tongue fucking me and wrapping his lips around my clit and sucking so hard I knew I wasn’t going to last long. 

I threaded my fingers through his hair trying to mask my sounds. 

He pulled away his hand gripping my throat, “Unless the bar Soap’s in can hear you, you’re not loud enough. N what does tha mean angel?” 

My breath was shaky, “I don- I don’t get to cum.” 

“Mmmm good girl.” 

His mouth resumed and this time I let my noises be whatever they wanted. My orgasm consumed me. My lower back lifted from the ground as I pleaded with him to stop before he flipped me around and did exactly what he said he was gonna. 

He filled me to the brim. Hot pants on the back of my neck I tried to grip onto anything I could to distract me from the pleasure I was feeling from his cock hitting my cervix. 

“Sososo- so good, please don’t.” 

“Fuck baby, I’m not gonna.” Seconds, minutes im not sure how long until I could hear the slight sound of a phone buzzing. 

His phone. 

He flipped me around again, putting my legs around his neck he found new spots that drew me crazier to the edge. 

One palm covered my mouth as he leaned down to my ear, “Be a good girl and stay quiet for me.” 

My brows scrunched up before he reached his other hand down to grab his cellphone and he answered the call. I could hear our captains voice over his balls slapping against me. 

“Ghost, you copy?”

“Yes Sir.” 

“Clear?”

“Yes Sir.” 

“I have one more important thing to discuss with you, when-” The Captain continued as Ghost screwed his eyes shut in pure irritation. 

“Yes Sir.” 

“Good.” 

The call ended and he abandoned his phone near my head and removed his other from my mouth. 

“Fuckin prick.”

He smirked down at me.

“It turned you on, could feel you squeezing me harder.” 

“AsshoLE-” He pounded into me harder. 

“We can try that another time.” My vision turned murky as stars exploded behind my eyes. 

“Fuckin hell, I don't think I’ll ever get tired of that.” 

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty mw2 #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley #simon riley smut #ghost smut #mw2 #john soap mactavish #simon riley x reader #ghost x babygirl!reader #captain john price #Image #taglist #cod x reader #cod fanfic #simon ghost riley fanfic #ghost fanfic #mw2 smut #mw2 fanfic #fanfic #task force 141 #soap mactavish #captain price #ghost x you #fem!reader #modernwarfare

[that---one---kid]

The cold snow

Coriolanus x Reader

AN: Sorry it kinda progressed really fast and I should’ve wrote him getting gradually more obsessive, but I’ll write another like that. Do yall think reader should relate more to teens nowadays though? Should I put her hitting a vuse in the next fic?

Smut, non-con, dub-con, arranged marriage, dark!Coriolanus, baby trapping, mentions of murder, threatening, reference to domestic violence, drugging, loss of virginity

Not once did you feel love for a man. Not once did you plan on getting married. And not once did you ever consider marrying a man from the capital, they were all the epitome of stuck-up, heartless and cruel bastards dressed up to hide it with a thick veil of elegance, but, alas, when did things you wanted ever go your way. You hide a scowl as the man you had heard far too much stood in front of you next to your father. “..and I'm sure she’s looking forward to the dress!” Your father laughed. “I’m quite sure my cousin is just as excited to help with the design.” The snow-haired boy- no, monster, said, turning to face you, his cold blue eyes look unnerving in the dim light of your dining room. You wondered if he had that same look in his eyes as he came up with ways to monetize innocent deaths. You give a forced smile, directed towards your soon-to-be husband. “I can’t wait to see what she comes up with!” Your voice sounds more strained than intended. Your father's hand lands heavy on your shoulder and he gives you a squeeze before speaking. “Coriolanus, it’s been an absolute pleasure as always, but I hate to keep you too late. University I’m sure is tiring enough and you’ll have Y/N to talk your ear off soon enough.” You shift your shoulder and shake his hand off. Your father gives you a look and Coriolanus smiles before taking your hand and raising it to his lips, bowing slightly he kisses your hand softly, the feeling of his lips on your skin makes a chill run up your spine. “Right again Mr. L/N, but I do look forward to having someone else to talk to aside from Gran’mam and Tigris and Y/N is a wonderful conversationalist.” Your father makes his way to the front door alongside Coriolanus while you snake away as they’re too preoccupied with a conversation of politics and wedding arrangements. You quietly make your way upstairs, narrowly missing a maid in your hurry to slip out of your dress and into a bath, washing the filth you felt from that monster touching you off of your skin. You weren’t naive to Coriolanus Snow. Despite a year his junior plenty of people had talked of the tenth games, of Coriolanus’s ideas, and even reminiscing on it made your blood boil even more so the fact that your father would not only condone his actions but praise them. He talked nonstop of Coriolanus’s genius and innovative brain, paired with an influential name is precisely why he was so eager to offer you up as a bride for this up-and-coming president. A soft knock on your bedroom door alerts you. “I’m in the bath!” You yell. Hearing a soft creek, footsteps slowly follow. “Hello?” You yell, a brunette female avox holding a silk robe enters your bathroom. You shift to cover yourself, despite having servants since childhood you never did get used to their lack of speech and dead stare. If your tongue got cut out you wouldn’t have much light in your eyes either, you suppose. “Thanks, just leave it on the counter.” The silent woman robotically moves towards the counter and places it down before leaving, swift footsteps and a quiet door closing signaling it was time for you to get you. Quickly standing and pulling the drain, the cool air on your skin gives you goosebumps. Slipping on the robe, there's another knock on your bedroom door. “Yeah, just one minute…” You pause, trying to recall the avox’s name, but drawing a blank.

Had even you dehumanized these indentured servants so much that you never learned their names? “Y/N?” Your head perks up from the thought. “Uh, you can come in, Mother, I just got out of the bath.” The door closes and you make yourself decent before walking out into your bedroom. Your mother sits at the edge of your bed, her thin frame barely sinking into the plush sheets. Your mother, although barely giving out any more than the bare minimum of maternal comfort, had always been a confidant for you. Rarely speaking unless spoken to, dressed to your father's liking, and eating the rations for a mouse on your father's request, you had always had a soft spot for her. You knew from a young age you wanted nothing to do with men, and never wanted to be trapped in a marriage like your mother was, loveless and cold it was no wonder you were an only child. She motions for you to sit next to her. “Grab your brush and let's talk.” Grabbing your brush off the vanity beside you, you walk over and stiffly sit next to your mother, handing her your brush. She grabs a lock of your hair and begins working her way through the tangles. This goes on for a few minutes before she breaks the silence. “I know you’re not happy about the marriage.” You roll your eyes and let out a huff. “Forgive me for not wanting to marry the malicious Mr. Snow, I know I’m sooo lucky to get a shot with someone who can make such a spectacle of child murder.” The sarcasm that made you bite your tongue around your father was let loose around your mother  She brushes out a knot with more force than she should, making you let out a wince. Sighing she continues on to another section of hair. “No need to be smart.” She puts down the brush and turns you towards her. Her pale, perfectly curated mask of makeup cracks up close. Her tired eyes and creases from many nights of poor sleep cannot be hidden, no matter how much concealer and powders are applied. “I was much more naive than you are when I married your father. I had the stories and the glory days of the capitol, but I was wrong. I know we haven’t set the best example of marriage for you, but please take this away if nothing else.” Your mother looks at you with a stern and pleading gaze. “You need to submit yourself to this fate.” Her voice is desperate and you can only give her a deadpan stare, “I’m not like you, mother, I have no interest in-” A stinging pain floods your senses, your cheek beginning to get hot accompanied by what you're sure is a brilliant red handprint. Your mother composes herself, fumbling with her hands in her lap, a blank stare adorns her tired face. “Unless you want to feel that and much worse from a hand much heavier than mine, I suggest you heed my advice.” Quickly and quietly, your mother stands up and walks to the door while you sit still in a somewhat shocked state from the normally docile woman's slap. “I don’t want to see you get hurt, I don't want you to go through what I did.” And with that she leaves, leaving you to recover and slip into a nightgown before lying in bed, a futile attempt to make sleep come quicker as your head swims through questions, realizations and your inevitable fate of entrapment.

A week comes and goes, you fill your time with work from the academy, struggling to get through dinners and talks with your father about marriage and the upcoming wedding. Your mother, to her credit, uncharacteristically changes the subject from time to time, giving you few and far-between sympathetic glances. You're grateful for that, at least. “I have business to attend to in District Two for a while, your mother and I will be away for at least a week, maybe more.” Your father says in between bites of sirloin. “Will Arthur be coming around?” Arthur was your uncle, a distant relative your father would like to forget, but it was the one fight he lost to your mother, her absolute refusal for him to isolate her completely from her eldest brother was what a majority of their fights were about in your childhood. Despite that, Arthur always made things more lively, less constrictive, and was the rare times you saw your father intimidated. Your father pauses before speaking again. “He is not, I see it fitting that Coriolanus comes and stays with you while we are away. He will escort you to school and come with his driver to pick you up after his university classes.” You clench your fork, and anger and something akin to nervousness twists in your stomach. Steadying your mind before speaking, you look to your mother who sips her wine, refusing to look at you. “Does that not seem improper, Father. I mean we aren’t to be wed for two more months. What image would that look like?” You try finding any loop, using the family image as leverage wasn’t ideal, but it was a last-ditch effort. “Since when have you cared about your public image? It sets a strong front up for the two of you. I want you to be seen with him as a young respectful woman from a strong house, someone the people can see as the first lady of Panem and I trust you will do as told.” There’s emphasis at the end of his words, more like a threat. Your mother clears her throat before excusing herself to the restroom. The rest of the dinner was sat in tense silence.

A knock at the door causes you to shoot your head up from your book in the living room.  Your parents had left early in the morning and it was now early afternoon, you tried easing the building nerves in your stomach by reading non-stop since before the sun was up, with time put aside to make sure your hair and makeup were perfect because despite hating you fiance and dreading his arrival, some small part of you still wanted to be desired by him.  You set down your book before whispering yelling at the avox passing by. You could see a small glimpse of Coriolanus waiting at the door from the window, but the tree would make it hard for him to see you. As childish as it sounded you asked the avox to wait until she heard your bedroom door from upstairs to close before letting coriolanus in. Like a child caught sneaking down stairs to get a glimpse of Santa, you ran quickly and quietly upstairs, praying silently that Coriolanus didn’t look through the windows next to the door only to see you scampering upstairs to hide in your bedroom. As quickly as you could you make it to your bedroom and slam the door just loud enough so that it could be heard downstairs. From there you crawl into your bed and under the covers of your bed, but instead of hiding from the monsters under the bed like when you were a child, you’re hiding from the monster downstairs, the one who comes to strip you of what little freedom you had left. Hearing the stairs creak makes the dull anxiety turn into panic as the creaking disappears, meaning they’ve now made it to the second floor, meaning they, who you were hoping weren't Coriolanus, were most likely heading for your door. Thinking quickly, you feign sleep, hoping that the oldest trick in the book will work on whoever came to disturb you.  A knock on the door makes you flinch, but still you lay as silently as possible, trying to control and calm your breathing. The door knob turns and the door is pushed open ever so slightly. A heavy footstep echoes through your quiet room followed by a closing door.

Glass against glass is heard before being placed by your bedside followed by a weight on the bed and hot breath tickling your ear. “Sleeping at noon? Come on now, Y/N, I’m not an idiot.” Coriolanus’s voice comes out smooth like honey, but cold like the harsh whip of winter air when you first step outside. You turn over, bleary eyed and fake yawning. “What are you doing in my bedroom uninvited?” Your voice is meant to be accusatory and confident but comes out meek and wavering. Coriolanus backs up, his perfectly slicked back hair doesn't falter even when he brushes it back, a smirk that spells nothing but no-good unnerves you. “I’m your fiance, I think we’re past courting formalities, Y/N, plus, I’ve brought you tea.” Smiling Coriolanus gestures to the white porcelain cup. “Thank you, Coriol-” “Call me Corio, please, the formalities and all are far behind us.” You smile, picking up the tea cup and taking a sip out of it to try and fill the awkward silence that weighs heavy in the room. The bitter taste catches you off guard, scowling as you take another sip, trying to gauge what kind of tea it is. “Corio, what is this, it's such a..strange flavor?” Smiling Corio pushes the cup up to your lips again. “It gets better with taste, and old recipe Grand’mam taught me.” Downing it as fast as possible as to not offend his Grna’mam’s tea you feel yourself get light headed as the world gets blurry. “Corio, what is this..” You trail off, your words are slurred and speaking feels like a chore. Your senses are so numbed that you don’t think twice when Corio gently pushes you back against the feather pillows. “Don’t you think it’s funny that we are engaged and haven't so much as kissed yet?”

 Even through your haze you can see the way the blonde is looking at you. His eyes are hungry, like a predator eyeing up its prey. “I’ve been thinking about you like this for a long time, Y/N, by my side, taming you and your defiance.” Coriolanus slips off his shoes and begins unbuttoning his shirt as he climbs on top of you. “I’ve been eyeing you up for awhile, Y/N, before the arrangements, at the academy, the way you look in your uniform, the way you think outside of the box..” Slowly he begins shedding his shirt, his hands snaking their way up your thigh, hiking up your skirt. “And I see the way the other men in the capital look at you, young, beautiful, rich, pure as snow…you’re a very desirable girl.” He’s made his way to the top of your skirt, slowly pulling it down, leaving you in your top and lacey panties. Now shirtless, Coriolanus begins working at undoing his own pants, leaving him in nothing but boxers on top of you. You try moving your legs but they give up after a few tries. It takes all of your energy to fight to stay awake,your heads not spinning anymore, but even if you could move, Coriolanus would easily overpower you. “S-stop.” You muster out weakly, trying and failing to push him off you, your weak arms are pinned to your side quickly by his own. “I don’t like the thought of another man but your husband taking you, and I intend to fulfill my role as your husband before you retaliate.”

Using one hand, Coriolanus unbuttons your shirt, button by button you feel your cheeks heat up and a growing arousal in your panties throws you off. You had never been touched like this by anyone other than your own hands in the dead of night before. Coriolanus swears under his breath as he exposes the rest of you, eyes wandering back down to your panties. “I’ve known about you far longer than you have of me, Y/N. I’m ready to have a loving marriage w​​ith you, but you just need to accept me.” He trails off as he unclasps your bra, rambling more about how he couldn’t wait and all the long dinners with you were driving him mad. Now fully exposed and more out of it than ever you feel his hands cup your breast. His erection pressing hard against your stomach as he leans down for a desperate kiss. He’s rough, trying to take in as much of you as possible.. Panting, his hot breaths send shivers down your spine, you feel your own wetness as you feebly rub your thighs together, weakly and with as much force as you can you push on his shoulders so he is sitting up straddling you. You tell yourself it’s to get him off of you, but in reality if so he’ll give attention to the rest of your body and not just your now abused lips. Coriolanus has the eyes of a madman as he quickly sheds his boxers and pulls down your panties. Using his thumb to tease your clit, you jolt slightly. Feeling foreign hands on you was a strange yet pleasurable experience. “Corio..” your soft moan of his name made him all the more possessive of you. He wanted to only ever hear you say his name in such a way, and he wanted to hear more of it. Taking out his hard cock, he lined it up with your entrance.  Coriolanus leaned back down, kissing you much more softly as he pushed into your virgin cunt. You moan into the kiss as you feel his cock pushing into you. “God, you’re so tight, you were made for me.” He moaned, head spinning Coriolanus wasn’t sure when, but he was holding your hips down as he fucked you, the way your breast bounced and your hair fell in your face as you moaned his name in breathy gasps made his head spin. “Corio-ah, fuck, Coriolanus..” Your meek voice just made him want to fuck you harder, to draw out more symphonies of his name, to make it known to not just you, but the world that you were Y/N Snow, and nobody except him could take you this way.  In between moaning your assailant's name and begging for more, you had a few moments of clarity, where you knew this was wrong but your body betrayed you. Moving on instinct you lift your legs towards your chest, begging to take the blondes’ cock deeper into you. In Coriolanus’s mind, you were begging for him to make you his, for him to not just claim you in name, but claim a life, a life that both of you created. Slamming your hips against his own Corio could feel himself coming undone, letting out breathy moans of your name you felt his hot cum spilling inside of you, begging for your own release which soon followed. Coriolanus fell on top of you, feebly keeping himself stable above you before rolling over to look at you. Rosy cheeks and a thin sheen of sweat cover you as your hair curls and frames your face in an almost angelic way. You were exhausted, trying to think but coming up blank, the drug affect starting to weigh on you, you allow yourself to block out the blonde lying next to you and let your heavy eyes close, drifting off to an inviting deep sleep while Corio stares at you, content with himself and that you’ll never be able to leave him now, especially with the child he and you would have, tying you to him forever.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #the hunger games #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #smut

[thewriterg]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐬

pairing(s); miguel o’hara x fem!reader

summary; isolation was the only way to cure the… bug you were having but of course your worthier than thoull boss didn’t allow it —angstober day; 22—

word count; 1.2k

warning(s); SMUT, sex pollen, objectification, oral (f receiving), p in v, kisses, pet names, and language

A/n:—GIFs; @miguelo-hara & @ennaih—

“Miguel it’s not gonna work” Lyla sighed hovering over the man’s shoulder as he worked his way way up the stair to your spare room in spider society that was supposed to be an office You, Hobie, Gwen, and Pavitr had turned into a hangout

When he put his hand over the reader to enter he didn’t expect for it to be denied flashing a bold red against his tanned skin

“Lyla what is thi-”

“Y/n wanted the floor shut down from everyone, including you” The hologram sassily cut off the variant her hands typing against the screen of her makeshift cell phone and Miguel sighed heavily putting a palm over his his eyes and the bridge of his nose

“Override it. No, no, no, no, no, override it.” The brunette demanded and the AI huffed something about you threatening to cut off the WiFi again before the door was opening letting him enter it was almost pitch black their was curtains over the windows with occasional evening sun peaking through his nose was burning with the scent, your scent

“Y/l/n” He called out to no response taking careful steps around until his head shifted towards the open bathroom door you arm sticking out of the frame that he rushed to turning on the light switch to see you lying face down on the cold floor of the the washroom the only thing that kept your body from feeling it wasn’t on fire your form slightly shaking, a thin sheet of sweat covering your skin, stray strands of hair sticking to your forehead, and your suit only halfway on your body your bare back facing Miguel

“Get out” You hissed curling in on yourself

“Lyla, shut down this floor and cut off surveillance” The AI hummed before disappearing herself probably to go lie on someone else’s shoulder for a while Miguel sat a hand on your back surprised that your body heat was rolling through his suit like it was nothing his eyebrows furrowing as he went against your wished sliding an arm under you lifting you up and over his shoulder your hot form almost burning against his while you groaned in protest of the movement until Miguel lied you down on the worn couch

“Listen you need to get you med- Hey! Medbay! Now! Y/l/n-” The brunette struggled to keep you down as you tried to climb over the couch trying your get back to you temporary sacred space before the Latino was putting his arms around under your armpits and setting you back down down huffing when you turned to your second attempt of escape from climbing over the couch to crawling against the ceiling just to be brought down by a web wrapped around your waist

“Why won’t you just listen! You’re acting like a child-”

“Because I’m going insane! I can hear your blood pumping through your jugular, I can smell your testosterone and how you’re getting hard from seeing me in pain like a fucking pervert, I feel like a teething toddler because my fangs are aching to bite down on something, and right now I don’t know if I want to fuck you or fight you so, get. out.” The leaders eyebrows shot up as you went on over time ranting your eyes were pure crimson and it reminded him how he first found you trying to recruit you for HQ

Miguel at you stared at you silently and unmoving until he was smashing his lips into yours while bare chest pressing against his suit covered one pulling away reluctantly looking into your eyes in return searching for reassurance that that he was doing the right thing

“If I start I won’t be able to stop” You whisper forehead lying against his beads of sweat dripping down your temple until a palm was swooping up your chin lifted to meet his gaze

“Let me help.” He muttered his voice gruff chocolate eyes turning to match yours blood and crimson staring back at each-other Miguel grunted while you cupped his erection skin pressing against his skin while your lips overpowered his you tug at the spandex of his suit eagerly understanding your point the tanned skin pressing the spider symbol on his church that loosened the fabric around his body before he shrugged it off his top half matching to you running hit large palms up your bare back the coolness of then comforting the scolding surface of your backside

The brunette lifted your hips where you wrapped your legs around his waist cupping his erection and kissing his swollen lips till you could no longer breathe and after a moments passing you felt your height dipped discovering your new position on the couch situated on his lap your pussy practically leaking through your suit bottoms

“Fuck corazón” Miguel grunted lifting his hips shimmying his pants down to his ankle his thick tip staring back at you angry and red your hand wrapped around the base the tip leaking pre cum and you and you could hear a muffled grunt coming from above you and you greedily devoured the sound whining as you’d clothed clit rubbed against his thigh your temperature at it’s all time high and the brunette shushed you softly helping you shed of your suit placing his cool hands against any skin he could touch

“Slow down Y/n” The Latino reached a hand down to stop you or your cunt from swallowing him while the thought making him wait to buck his hips into you

“She’s not into foreplay at the moment right now” You hummed that soon turned into a moan while you sunk down down onto the thick head of your boss’s cock the width practically splitting you open while Miguel took a hold of your hips occasional grunts leaving him while you killed him of slowly your warm walls wrapping around him like a snug blanket

“Oh fuck ngh- oh shit princesa” You moaned at the sound of his poorly concealed whimpering it travels down to your core and your pain was finally being remodeled into pleasure quick as light the poisonous pollen you’d encountered probably one of the main factors as you began to speed up your pace creating a combination of grinding and bouncing on his genitals dipping your head into his neck while the monster of a man moaned above you the smell of his blood flooding your sense as you pressed kisses against his neck your fangs scraping against his julgular

“Go ahead, do it muñeca” You hesitated a bit taking the skin in between you teeth but not quite biting down until Miguel thrusted his hips up into you meeting your thrust causing a gasp to escape from your lips from and you finally bit down your fangs breaking the skin while you felt hot ropes coat your insides until Miguel bit down on your shoulder causing you to silently scream your legs shaking in response while the brunette rubbed your clit riding you through your high until you were panting rolling off his thighs breathing heavily

“Round two?”

©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.

#🦇𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑;𝐆 #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara smut #miguel smut #astv x reader #spider man across the spider verse #astv miguel #spooktober #kinktober #flufftober #angstober #fem!reader #spider!reader #avengers x reader #romance #smut #i love you #thewriterg

[blue-labcoat]

You're not broken

summary: reader and spencer experience a miscarriage due to ectopic pregnancy

genre: angst, 2.3k

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, ectopic pregnancy, miscarriage, ambulances/hospitals, surgery, mentions of infertility

series masterlist here

a/n: me, updating this series after how long?? anyways, this was written with the information i could find on the internet about ectopic pregnancy and recovery, so it may not be totally accurate! read at your own discretion

A sharp pain in my abdomen woke me up. I could immediately tell that something was off - I was lightheaded and the pain in my lower stomach was getting worse.

“Spencer,” I whispered, reaching over to shake him awake.

“Hm,” he muttered, rolling over. I shook him harder.

“Something’s wrong, Spence. I don’t feel good, I think you should take me to the hospital.”

His eyes snapped open. “Are you serious? What's wrong?”

“I don't know. I can just tell that something's wrong, and I - ah!” I gasped out as another bolt of pain passed through my abdomen. “I'm in pain. And I- I don't know. I'm lightheaded. Something's just wrong.”

“Okay, it's going to be alright,” he said, getting up and walking over to my side of the bed to help me out. He pulled the covers off of me to help me get up, and gasped.

"Oh my god," he said softly, worry clouding his eyes. I followed his line of sight down to the sheets. There was a large bloodstain under my hips.

“Is that your period?” He asked. I shook my head, panic filling my chest. “Okay, let's get you to the hospital. C'mon, I'll help you to the car.”

I could hear in Spencer's voice that he was trying to stay calm for my sake, but I could see my own panic mirrored on his face. I stood up, and suddenly the room was blurry and spinning around me. I could feel my back getting clammy, and my heart was pounding in my ears. I fell against Spencer's chest, and felt him catch me and lay me back down on the bed.

I was drifting in and out of consciousness - I heard Spencer talking to someone, then I was somewhere with a bright fluorescent light shining over my head. The last thing I remembered was Spencer leaning over me, tears streaming down his cheeks.

---

Beep. Beep. Beep.

I opened my eyes slowly. “That noise is really annoying,” I muttered, closing my eyes again. It was too bright.

“She's waking up,” I heard someone saying. I didn't recognize the voice. I blinked my eyes open again, squinting so that I could take in my surroundings. I was in a hospital bed, with an IV sticking out of my arm.

“Spencer,” I called when I noticed him standing near the door.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted, coming over to stand next to me. “How are you feeling?”

“I - tired. What happened?”

Spencer's eyebrows drew together with concern, and he pressed his lips together. “The nurse is sending your doctor down to talk to you. She should be here in a minute.” He took my hand in his and squeezed it tightly, leaning in to press a kiss to my forehead.

Not long after, the woman who I assumed was my doctor came in.

“Good morning, Dr y/l/n,” she greeted me. “I'm Dr Keller. How are you feeling?”

“Tired, and confused. And please, call me y/n,” I replied, smiling politely.

“Alright, y/n. Unfortunately, I have some bad news for you. When you came in last night, you were suffering from some very heavy bleeding, and we eventually determined that you were miscarrying an ectopic pregnancy.”

“Miscarry- no, that can't be right,” I told her, shaking my head. “I'm not pregnant.”

“It's possible that you didn't know about the pregnancy - your partner didn't either, obviously, when he came with you in the ambulance. But, the ruptured fallopian tube was what was causing your pain and blood loss. Your fallopian tube was ultimately too damaged to salvage, so we had to remove it along with the ectopic tissue.”

My lip quivered. “I was pregnant?”

She nodded. “I'm so sorry, y/n. We can discuss in more detail what this means for you once you’ve gotten some rest. I’m going to give you two a minute, and I’ll be back shortly in case you have any more questions, ok?” She left, and I burst into tears.

“I know, baby, I know,” Spencer soothed, crawling into the hospital bed beside me. I tucked my head under his chin and wrapped my arm around his torso as best I could.

“I - this is silly of me. I didn't even know I was pregnant, I shouldn't be so upset about losing something that I didn't even know I had,” I blubbered.

“It's okay to cry, y/n,” Spencer reminded me. “It's a loss like any other, and it's important that you grieve however you need to. We need to grieve.”

I cried even harder at his words. We had talked about how we both wanted kids at some point, but we hadn't discussed when. I knew how much Spencer wanted to be a dad. And yet, here I was, missing a fallopian tube.

“I'm sorry, Spence. I-” I paused, not even knowing what to say.

“It's okay,” he said softly, knowing what I was trying to say. “It's not your fault. It's not anyone's fault. We don't need to talk about it right now if you don't want, okay?”

I nodded, squeezing him tighter against me.

---

Two days later, I was discharged from the hospital and Spencer took me home. I was supposed to stay home for at least another week, but I wasn't ready to talk about it with Millie yet so I just sent her my doctor's note and told her that I wouldn't be in until I was feeling better.

“Did you want me to stay home with you tomorrow?” Spencer asked while we were eating supper. I shrugged.

“You don't have to,” I replied, looking down at my food and pushing it around on my plate.

“That's not what I asked,” he said gently, reaching over to lift my chin. “Y/n, this is happening to both of us, you know that, right? I just want to be here for you.”

“I know, Spence, I’m sorry,” I replied, finally looking up at him. “I just don’t know how I’m supposed to deal with something like this. And, I know this is hard for you, too, and I want to be here for you like you are for me, but I just feel so… heartbroken. I mean, we might never be able to have a baby now, Spencer. I’m broken, and nothing can fix it.” I set down my fork and willed the tears that were beginning to form away.

“Hey, hey,” Spencer cooed, pulling me into a hug against his chest. “You are not broken, do you understand me? You could never be broken. I know you’re scared, and I know you’re upset, but I need you to understand that this is in no way your fault. I love you no matter what, right?”

I nodded against his chest, wiping my tears away on his sweater.

“Besides, we haven’t even really talked yet about having children yet. I’m not saying that a baby wouldn’t have been a good thing, but it sure would have been a surprise! The other thing to remember too, honey, is that there are lots of different ways to have children. And when we do eventually have a kid together, we are going to love them so fucking much that it won’t even matter how they became a part of our lives.

“Just promise me you won’t push me away because of this, okay? I want you to take the time you need to recover from this, physically and emotionally, but I want to be a part of that recovery. We’re going to get through this together.”

I could hear him starting to get choked up. I lifted my head up to look at him, giving him a weak smile. “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” I told him. “I love you so much, Spence.”

“I love you too. Now. Try eating a little bit more, and then maybe we can crawl into bed early and cuddle for a bit before we go to sleep. Sound good?”

I hummed in agreement and turned back to my plate. “You can go to work tomorrow. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I’ll get caught up on my knitting, finish that book… it’ll be good.”

Spencer responded by leaning over and giving me a quick peck on the cheek.

---

The next morning, Spencer left on time, giving me a kiss and gentle hug goodbye and whispering ‘I love you’ while I was still in bed.

When I got up a few hours later, the incision from my surgery was sore. I hobbled to the kitchen to make a cup of tea, and was planning on returning to bed when I heard a knock at the door. Before opening it, I checked through the peephole only to find JJ on the other side.

“Hey, JJ,” I greeted her, opening the door and stepping back gingerly.

“Hi, y/n, is… Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, what do you mean?”

“Nothing, you just… never mind. Um, is Spencer here?”

My instinctual reaction was panic. Spencer had gone to work. He was supposed to be at work.

“No, he left for work at his normal time this morning. Didn’t he show up?”

“He did, but he left because he said that you needed him to come home. He didn’t say why, but he wasn’t at work very long.” She paused for a moment, looking at me closely. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I…” I wasn’t sure if I wanted anyone to know that I had miscarried. I had asked Spencer the night before not to tell anyone, and I wasn’t very close with JJ, but she was a mother. I suppose if anyone was going to understand, it would be her. “Can I tell you something, but can you not tell anyone?”

“Of course,” she replied, brows furrowing. “Did you want me to come in? I don’t have to, but-”

“Yeah, of course,” I interrupted, opening the door wider and stepping aside so that she could come in.

We sat down on the couch a few feet apart. I knew that JJ had been Spencer’s best friend before we met, but I’d never really gotten close with her.

“I had a miscarriage three days ago,” I told her after a short silence, looking down at my hands clasped in my lap, blurry from the tears that were starting to press on the back of my eyes. “I didn’t even know I was pregnant, we- we weren’t even trying or anything. It just hit me kind of hard, and they told me that I might not be able to get pregnant again, and I just… I didn’t even realize it was something that I wanted until I couldn’t have it, y’know?”

“Oh my god, y/n, I’m so sorry,” JJ said, reaching out to hold my hand. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“I don’t think so,” I sniffled. “I didn’t mean to ambush you with this, I don’t even know why I wanted to tell you. I think I just needed to tell someone, just to get it out there?”

“I know what you mean.” JJ gave me a sympathetic smile. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want, but I had a miscarriage too. When I was overseas.”

“You did?”

She nodded.

“If you, um, don’t mind me asking, how did you get over it?”

“To be completely honest, it’s not really something you get over. I guess grief is different for everyone, but I find myself thinking every now and then about who that little baby might have grown up to been, or how my life would be different.”

---

JJ stayed for a few hours, talking at first with me about the miscarriage, but then just chatting. When she left, my mind went back to the hospital, the doctor’s words replaying over and over again in my mind. JJ being here had helped, though. I just had to get my mind of things for a little while until the wound wasn’t so fresh, and I could think through it. I turned on Gilmore Girls and decided to bake some cupcakes.

There was third batch of cupcakes in the oven and I was frosting the first when I heard Spencer’s key turning in the lock. I paused the tv and called out to greet him.

“Hey, honey,” he said, setting his bag down and walking into the kitchen. “It smells really good in here, but are you sure you’re getting enough rest like the doctor said?”

I gave him a peck on the cheek. “I had enough rest this morning. JJ came over and we chatted for a bit, but when she left I wanted to get my mind off it, so I’m making cupcakes. I’m almost done so I can rest after while I’m eating them.”

“I see,” replied Spencer, scooping some frosting out of the bowl and licking it off his finger. “Are you sure you’re okay, y/n? I mean, this was a big deal, and I don’t expect you to just move – ”

“I’m okay, Spence. I mean, not completely, but I’m managing okay and I know that it will hurt less with time. I just need to get there, so,” I gestured vaguely at the kitchen, “Cupcakes.”

“Okay, I’m glad. Promise you’ll let me know if you need anything?”

“I promise, Spence. Now, stop eating the icing and go sit in the living room. I’ll bring you a cupcake when they’re done.”

He dipped his finger back into the bowl one last time, giving me an impish grin before walking over to the couch. “I love you, y/n.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid series #spencer reid fanfiction #friends to lovers

[p0ssywhippedcream]

Sooooo, I just found this blog and think your writing is just excellent (especially the PJO!Apollo ones)! I would like to make my own request, something sweet and fluffy (maybe smutty?) to counteract the last one.

I'm thinking something like this:

Apollo x daughterofares!reader with wedding/wedding night shenanigans ;) and preparing to spend the rest of eternity together.

IDK. If you want to change/omit something (especially the parentage bit b/c it's admittedly very specific) feel free. You're the one writing after all. Thanks!!!

The feeling is indescribable. Songs, poetry, the gentle weep of a guitar, nothing could ever describe how this feels.

To be close with Apollo like this, having him fully immersed in you. His moans, his toned body, his love. Observing your lover lose himself in your heat is one thing, but to completely lose yourself in him is far more.

The smack of his hips against yours is where his eyes lay, his hands molding the flesh of your thighs as he rests your ankles on his shoulders. You’re full of him, and it’s much more than just sex.

It’s cosmic connection right at your core, you feel it bounce around your blood. The tingling feeling of a god being so intimate with your mortal body causes shudders to run through you. Your toes twitch, torso flexes and your eyes roll back.

“So good, baby…” He’s so loving and doting, always making sure you feel good but there no way you couldn’t. It’s him, he’s where your life starts and ends and with his cock bullying into your wetness, you’re too in love with him to laugh about the irony.

Your hand reaches up to steal his from your legs and hold on to it with all your strength, which is admittedly not much at this point in time. His pupils flicker over to the chunky sunstone that sits on your ring finger and he groans involuntarily. You hadn't taken it off since the day he proposed to you in his chariot and just the sight of it, the evidence that you were his for as long as you lived brought songs of needy cries to his mouth.

He allows himself to be tugged down to your whimpering mouth in a sloppy kiss that's more panting than lip-locking. "'Pollo, I l-love you."

"Sunshine," He's interrupted with your mouth taking his again and as he tugs his head free, you catch his bottom lip between your teeth, "You are the love of my life."

You giggle and choke when his tip kisses your cervix, "And you, the love of my much shorter one."

He grins bright, "We'll have to make you immortal. I'll carry my perfect-" He grabs your ring finger and lays pecks on it between each adjective, eyes locked on yours. "-gorgeous, darling, lovely wife up to the heavens and demand it."

"Zeus won't ever."

"Zeus will if a deadly plague to raze humanity doesn't sound intimidating enough." You laugh and he follows your lead with soft chuckles.

"Apollo on a warpath over a mortal, what an idea." The words struggle out your throat, your mind distracted by the deepness of his strokes.

"Sunshine, you are my world," He makes sure you're looking at him, and continues with love dripping from each word, "Without you, the sun would have no reason to shine. You're the good of humanity, the reason I wake up to cover the world in light in the hopes you enjoy it."

Your heart swells in your chest. The god of poetry really knows how to flatter. Your hands find his smooth, tan face as your eyes well with tears. "You're my goodness, Apollo. You make life worth living. Not just your music, your words or your healing and not even the sun you bring up in the mornings. It's you that's good, just like this."

He's stopped moving now, his shinning eyes trained on yours as the sincerity of your words soaks in. He knows now he'll never get over you. You are his, forever. You have become the parts of him he loves and taken root in both his heart and mind. He kisses you gently and pulls away with a soft, teasing smile contradictory to the genuine vulnerability in his eyes.

"Couldn't have said it better myself."

#pjo x reader #pjo #pjo headcanon #oph.posts #oph.anons #oph.thoughts #pjo apollo #apollo #pjo hoo toa #pjo apollo x reader #apollo x reader #apollo x reader smut #apollo x reader fluff #apollo x reader pjo #pjo apollo x reader smut #pjo smut #pjo x reader fluff #pjo x reader smut #pjo x you smut #pjo x y/n smut #pjo apollo x you #pjo apollo x y/n #apollo x you #apollo x you smut #apollo smut #apollo x y/n #apollo x y/n smut #pjo apollo smut #apollo smut pjo #riordanverse

[vintagenahbi]

When You’re Hurt

Ot7x Reader- BTS Reactions Pt.2

Jimin, Jin, V, RM

Summary: How each member reacts when you have been harmed or injured.

Warnings 🚨: Mentions of harm, mental health, accidents, and assault

Jimin

I hadn’t been in the best mood recently. I was extremely depressed and couldn’t get out of my funk. I sat around the house most days and did absolutely nothing; however, it was getting noticeable worse.

I was home alone when the depressive episode hit me like a truck. I got up off the couch and decided to go into the kitchen. I grabbed some cucumbers, mushrooms and cabbage and started chopping way. Cooking was the only thing that could cheer me up since it was what I was good at, but that wasn’t even working today.

Suddenly, I was back in my daze- spaced out from everything around me. My body jolted forward as a sharp pain rushed from my hand. I sliced my palm straight through the meat. Blood was gushing out so quickly that I didn’t have time to think.

I don’t like the sight of blood and typically get queasy just looking at it. I started to feel light headed. I grabbed the edge of the counter top, then everything went black.

I woke up in my bedroom with my hand wrapped tightly in a white bandage. Some blood was seeping out, but nothing compared to what happened earlier. I got out of the bed and walked into the living room. I could hear a scrub brush sawing at the floor in the kitchen. I slowly walked in the kitchen to see Jimin on his hands and knees cleaning up the spilled food and blood. He looked up at me surprised. He got up propping himself up with his knee.

“Y/N you should be resting not out here.” He grabbed my waist and kissed my cheek. I could feel his hand start rubbing up and down my back.

“Jimin what happened?”

“I honestly don’t know. Once I got home I saw you on the ground.” He paused for a moment to clear his throat. Jimin’s eyes were swelling up with tears. “I was so scared. Seeing you helpless on the floor. You’d been so down recently and I thought.” He trailed off. My heart sank into my chest.

I turned to face him, stroking his cheek with my free hand. “I would never leave you that way.” He held me in a tight embrace. He pulled away and I used my thumb to move the tears off his cheek.

“Y/N I need you to get better so I don’t lose you. This can’t happen again. I can’t lose you.” I shook my head in agreement. He kissed me one more time, as he walked away he cleared his throat to get his composure back. He got back to cleaning the floor.

“I love you.” Jimin looked up at me and smiled.

“Get your rest. I’ll be in there to take care of you once I get done.” I nodded my head yes and walked back to the bedroom.

Jin

I was on my way home when all of a sudden I felt someone following me. That feeling when you know you aren’t alone. I turned the corner and was met by a dead end. The figure stopped the moment I stopped waiting for me. I turned around and booked it. I moved my feet as fast as I could past him, but he grabbed my waist and stared to laugh. He ripped my shirt and cover my mouth with their hand. I tried to scream but was shoved to the ground. I slammed my knee against the concrete, but I refused to go without a fight.

He bent down and I kicked him in the jaw. I immediately took off running. I let my body guide me to where I was trying to go.

I opened the door to my apartment. Once I hurriedly locked the door I broke down crying. Jin must have heard me because I heard his footsteps rush over to me. He tried to calm me and grabbed my arm to help me get back on my feet. I could tell he noticed my torn shirt and bloody knee. Jin sat me on the couch. All I could do was cry hysterically.

Jin didn’t ask any questions. He moved me into the bathroom and helped me get out of my torn clothes. He fixed up my knee and got me a fresh pair of sweats. I began to calm down some after several hours. My body had been in shock. I honestly was lost for words. I don’t know how or when, but we were back in the living and Jin was standing in front of me near the tv.

“What happened Y/N?” I couldn’t help but to start to get chocked up.

“I was coming home and someone grabbed me and he umm… he tried to… you know.” I began to sob again. Jin rushed to my side and held me. He didn’t say a word, he only held me. We sat in silence for what felt like hours until he spoke.

“I won’t ever let anyone hurt you. I promise” Jin said quietly. I looked at him and shook my head to signal that I understood. “Anything you need, I’ll be here for you.” I faintly smiled. His presence was more than enough. For the rest of the night he sat with me and made sure I ate. Whatever I needed he was there.

V

I was at the coffee shop when all of a sudden some man came up behind me ripping my purse from off my shoulder, nearly dragging me with it. I ended up catching my fall only to hear a snap come from my wrist. I grabbed it in pain. Not only was my wrist broken but my purse was stolen.

I sat in the hospital as the doctors gave me the news I had already predicted earlier. My wrist was broken in two places. I sat on the hospital bed waiting for them to wrap my arm for the cast.

Taehyung walked into my room stunned. He hugged me so tightly that i couldn’t breathe. I winced out in pain and I pointed down at my wrist to show him he was holding me too tightly.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. What happened?” I took a deep sigh.

“Robbery gone.” His eyes widen.

“Robbery? Are you okay? Did anything else happen?” Taehyung began speaking a mile a minute. I grabbed his shoulder to get him to stop.

“Tae, I’m safe and I’m okay.” He sat on the hospital bed and waited with me. The doctors came in and wrapped my arm in a cast. Taehyung kept kissing my cheek and reassuring me the entire time. I was one to express his affection and it felt nice. Once we were done he took great care of me for the rest of the day. He made sure all the credit cards were canceled and that I didn’t get my cast wet.

We laid in bed cuddled up watching a movie. All things considered, I had a great day that was spent with Tae. He was amazing through it all and I almost forgot the events that happened this morning. Tae paused the movie abruptly and I looked up at him.

“I hate that that happened to you today and I couldn’t do anything. I’m supposed to be there and I wasn’t. I guess I am having a hard time dealing with that part.” I sat up.

“It’s not your fault Tae. I didn’t know it was going to happen. I’m okay though. A broken arm hurts but I’m okay.” I stroked his face and gave him a kiss. I noticed a tear swim down his cheek. He smiled at me and pulled me in closer. There wasn’t much he could do and we both knew that. He made me feel safe which was the most important thing to me.

RM

I had been getting threats online. It was nothing new, but it was messing with my mental health. Every hateful thing I was starting to believe about myself. I was becoming consumed with it all. I would get online and another comment about how horrible I looked or how RM could do better. Our relationship was not that public but even a rumor could get you hate.

Namjoon came home late as I starred in the distance waiting for him in the living room. Tears kept flowing down my cheeks, but I kept my eyes on the painting that consumed the wall. Namjoon walked over and kneeled down in front of me. I looked down at him and then back at the painting.

“It’s too much Joon.” He looked at me confused. I could see his heart nearly beating out of his chest. He saw that my phone was open and the long threat that knew every detail about me. The message expressed all the harm they wished upon me. Not all were mean, but this felt different. It broke me.

“I can’t Joon. I wanna give up.” I always struggled with certain thoughts and this kind of attention was making it worse. Joon picked me up and sat me on his lap. I cried into his shoulder. I could feel his heavy breathing as I listened to the pounding of his heart.

“Y/N it’s okay.” I felt extremely vulnerable to the point that it was embarrassing. Joon pulled me away. “I don’t want you reading these anymore. Okay? You are a great woman and I don’t need you believing this stuff.” He grabbed my phone and turned off the comment options.

“Joon, I’m sorry.” He held me tightly again. We sat there for about thirty minutes. I got off his lap and walked into the bedroom. He followed behind making sure I wasn’t alone for a second. That’s when he noticed the printed out messages. He read through them and shook his head in disbelief.

“I never knew it was this bad Y/N. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was ashamed. It’s been so much and I didn’t want to hurt you.” I sat down on the bed.

“I can handle this. I’m worried about you. I need you to be okay Y/N. I can take stuff like this, but you should have to.” Joon wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed the back of my neck. “This won’t happen anymore.”

#bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts reader #bts x reader #bts #bts v #kim taehyung #bts rm #bts jimin #bts jin #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon #park jimin #jimin imagine #taehyung x reader #kim soekjin #jin imagine #jin x reader #jimin x reader

[callsigns-haze]

Pretty like a crime

Chapter 7

Pairing: Agent Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Singlemom! Agent Y/n 'Cobra' Y/l/n

Summary: Cobra is finally back on the agency and is finally back in the job. With Kai at home she has to jumble being a mother and a agent. She's sent to her first U.C mission but never thought that she would meet a blonde, green eyed Texan...

Warning: Mentions of gun use, ptsd, mentions of death, mentions of shooting, flirting, mentions of abuse, description of dead body, death, blood, undercover work, alcohol use, smut, kissing

Prologue/ Part 1/ Part 2/Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6

----------SIX MONTHS LATER-----------

Mornings were the most enjoyable portion of the day in your home. It was calm and tranquil, which was unusual for the couple given the chaos of raising Kai.

You and Jake enjoyed the morning since your new schedules meant you didn't have to worry about work or Kai, whom you loved deeply. Those few hours you may spend together and enjoy a tranquil time in each other's arms

It was early in the morning, with sunlight streaming through the windows, when you felt Jake's massive arms weight on your waist and his nose nuzzling against the nape of your neck.

"Good morning, love," he whispered in his scratchy morning voice, drawing you against his bare chest.

“Good morning… ooh I see our big friend is also joining us this morning” your lips curled into the famous Seresin smirk that Jake thought you while feeling his hard cock against your panty covered ass.

“Can't stop it when I'm sleeping next to a goddess ” he slid his hand under your night gown tugging against the rim of your panties to get access to your slick folds.

“Jakey, what are you doing?” you giggled as he slowly lowered you panties.

“Giving my goddess the affection her needy ass needs. It’s been a while since our last trip downtown ” he says in his morning rasp as he leaves butterfly kisses down the side of your neck.

"It's only seven a.m., and he won't be up until nine, I can tell you that," he pulls you in closer, pressing his hardon into your ass.

"But.." you protested, but your body had already given in to him, allowing him to take control.

He silenced you before sliding his fingers inside your moist and massaging your clit in a circular manner. You moaned as he placed light kisses on the nape of your neck. "Does that feel good, mama?" he teases against your ear, his fingers moist with your sticky as he takes his time pleasing you.

"Mmmhmm," you murmured gently, your body lighting up at his touch. He slips two fingers into your heat and draws circles on your swelling bud with his thumb. Your hand returned to run your fingers through his hair, taking a grip of it as you pulled your hips back as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you at a regular rhythm, which felt nice but wasn't enough for you.

"Please, Jake, fuck…." you said in a frantic whisper. He had won you over, but he was destroying you.

"What do you need baby?" You can hear the sneer in his mocking tone. "I need you, I want you inside me," you said, as Jake quickly pushed you onto your back and removed your pants.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll take care of you," he says, raising your nightdress above your head.

He bends down to savour your lips, gasping as your tongue swirls with his. He kisses your breast and swirls your peaks around his tongue. Your hand reaches down and pushes his boxers to release his member.

He continues to suck on your tits as you wrap your fingers around his thick shaft, giving him a few strokes before lining him up with your entrance. He slips in smoothly, sighing quietly as his long, thick length fills your tightness.

"Fuck, darling" Jake murmured quietly into your ear, moving his hips into yours slowly and forcefully, making you tremble. His body was wonderfully moulded to yours. You tightened your legs around his hips, bringing him closer as he drove further into you.

"Fuck, Jakey, so close, oh!" you groaned, falling back as you achieved your peak. Jake was near as well, increasing up his tempo as your walls pulsated with the sensation of your high, making him chuckle at how you squirmed beneath him. You were both so caught up in each other's delight that you didn't notice your bedroom door was open.

"Mommy, Jakey?" Your son's tiny voice appears from thin air as you and Jake quickly pull up the covers for a bit of cleavage. Your little son is standing in your door frame, leaning a bit forward as Jake asks him what's up.

"I'm hungry…" Him and Jake have been getting along amazingly for the past few months but yet you still can't get over how shy your son manages to get at times. Jake knows how shy and antisocial Kai can truly get and says.

"Hey bud, give me a minute and I'll be down in the kitchen okay?" Kai to that, full of energy nods his head and runs off down the halls as you where about to get up but Jake quickly pushes you down and gets on top of you, kissing down your neck.

"I'll go take care off him, you rest, I bet I tired you out." He plants one more kiss on your lips and gets up grabbing some underwear and sweatpants beside the bed. "Jake you don't hav-" you've said that line already and many times before, and stops you in your tracks as he grabs a t-shirt and leaves the bedroom to take care of your son.

You lie down on the sofa mattress while staring up at the ceiling, wondering how you got so lucky. You've fallen for an agent that cares for you and your son and protects you no matter what. He cares for your son and how the young boy is doing. Overall he's just a gentleman.

You slowly rise out of bed, picking up your cleavage and pyjamas at the side. You slip on the top and bottom, swiftly walking over to the table where your phone starts to vibrate. You don't hesitate to pick up the phone even though it's an unknown number.

"Hello?"

"Hello Madame Chevalier."

Current taglist:

@callsign-magnolia

@shanimallina87

@callsign-dexter

@rosiahills22

@horseslovers2016

@djs8891

@hookslove1592

@emma8895eb

@hardballoonlove

@kmc1989

@dempy

@mamachasesmayhem

@senawashere

@emma8895eb

@buckysteveloki-me

@sweetwhispersofchaos

@a-beaverhausen

@itsmytimetoodream

#jake seresin #hangman x reader #hangman top gun #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake hangman fic #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman x you #jake hangman imagine #hangman imagine #hangman seresin #hangman fanfiction #hangman seresin x reader #hangman seresin x you #hangman x y/n #hangman x you