#I’m just in pain thinking about rendering this

[anicehomicidaltree]

NEW JASH POWER HOUR FIT i assume

[fairyofshampgyu]

Super shy !

genre: smut, baker au, college au, crack

Pairing: shy loser virgin bakery worker ! soobin x college customer ! reader

Warnings: sub soobin, dom reader, clubbing, loss of virginity, riding, hand job, titty groping (can’t be a Soobin smut without him being obsessed with boobies be fr), premature ejaculation,

word count: 2.9k

As soon as you stepped into the newly established campus bakery, walking up to the counter and observing all the pastries, contemplating for a rather long time before you end up deciding on what you’d usually order anyway, Soobin couldn’t help feeling like his world got totally turned upside down. The sight of you rendering him completely speechless and unable to even think.

Time seemingly going by so slow like in the kdramas as your shiny hair majestically blows in the non existent wind inside, smile brightening up the entire bakery. He could practically see the roses blooming around your face like in the mangas. Was this love at first sight?!

Realistically, no.

But were you incredibly attractive to him and a breath of fresh air to the moody, stressed out college students that purchase a single coffee and stay for hours completing assignments with their backs concerningly hunched over? Hell yes.

And unfortunately for Soobin, he does not do well with pretty people. At all. Not realising you had even ordered, too in awe and preoccupied with taking in all your features until he’s snapped back to reality with the clearing of your throat and he can already feel his cheeks burning up horribly fast. Oh god. He really, really hopes it’s not evident right now.

“S-sorry…What did you say?” He begins apologising profusely to you, too embarrassed to even look you in the eyes, staring off more to the side. This was definitely not his best customer service.

With a chuckle, you brush it off and state your order again, “I said could I have the strawberry swirl cheesecake please?” If Soobin could look at himself in third person, he would so be face palming right now. Or better yet, maybe he could just go up and like, punch himself straight up or something for acting like such a loser.

“Ah right... That’s ₩7500. Cash or card?”

You pay with cash and Soobin, very nervously, fumbles around to garner the right amount of change to hand you, though doing it in the most awkward way possible and his palm makes direct contact with yours as he hands the money, making him blush even more and let out a small obvious gasp at the feeling of your soft hand. Oh my god. Why did he do that?! He really hopes you didn’t find that weird.

You only let out another chuckle, thanking him before you’re leaving the bakery in an elegant manner and Soobin is left to sigh and watch your back disappear. Damn it. He’ll probably never see you again. You were so pretty and so cute, too cute even-

“You’re such a virgin.”

His thoughts about you are abruptly dissipated by his coworker and unfortunately best friend, Choi Beomgyu who gives him the stupidest, most annoying grin he would definitely like to slap off his face right now.

“Just shut up.” Soobin grimaces and rolls his eyes at beomgyu, bringing a batch of freshly baked cookies out of the oven behind him and placing them into the display glass one by one.

"You’re pinker than the strawberry macarons we sell. That's saying something." Beomgyu raises an eyebrow at him with sass.

So does that mean you could see how flustered he was getting then? Oh no! Soobin clears his throat and narrows his eyes at beomgyu anyway. “Am not.”

“Are too! Anyway, all I’m saying is that interaction was painful to watch. You’re really giving pathetic, loser, virgin right now. I cant lie.” Beomgyu attempts to stifle in one of his obnoxious laughs.

Soobin is quick to snap back, "You've only ever slept with one person!"

"S-so!! At least im not a virgin!" Beomgyu’s cheeks also become the equivalent to the strawberry macarons as he scrambles to try and defend himself, brows furrowed and cheeks puffed.

“Well, the concept of a virgin is purely societal anyway. It doesn’t actually matter. It doesn’t mean anything really.” Soobin bitterly replies, continuing to work whilst his counterpart does completely nothing like most of the time. It's usually soobin that does work, remind him not to agree to beomyu's silly ideas of getting a job together ever again.

Beomgyu scoffs and snickers at this, "Whatever. You’re just saying all that to make yourself feel better because you’re a loser. LMAO"

"I’ll punch you right now."

"Then we'll both be fired~”

A poor customer still awaits at the counter to be served, standing in bewilderment and tiredness. Waiting for the two bakers to finish bickering and sighing as they don’t seem like they’re going to stop anytime soon.

Soobin doesn’t expect to see you again, in complete honesty, he’s almost forgotten you even exist after you never come again. But he’s in luck and more than pleasantly surprised when he hears the bell to the door go ding!, indicating a customer had walked in. He looks up from the cake he was decorating and in comes you looking cuter than the first time he saw you. He tries not to mess up the cake and he stands up straight almost instantly when he sees you, waiting for you to order and trying to remain calm.

You laugh and point at his cute nose when you come up to the counter. “You have like, icing all on your nose.”

“O-oh. I do?” He points at himself and you nod in reply. He feels himself going redder by the minute. He must look so stupid right now! And he urgently brings his sleeve up and tries to wipe the icing off his nose to not make himself look an even more of a complete fool in front of you .

“Ah wait no. Let me do it!” You lean over the counter as you see him struggling and wipe it off the top of his cute bunny like nose instead for him.

And that was the end of soobin. The end.

-

You become a regular at the bakery and soobin becomes a regular of embarrassing the absolute shit out of himself each time he sees you. He really doesn’t think he can top the previous comedic disaster that occurs when you enter, yet he always proves himself wrong, the awkwardness reaching new heights each time. From dropping trays of pastries, spilling drinks, nearly slipping in front of you, giving you a ₩50000 note when it was only ₩5000 change, the list goes on and on. He’s actually surprised he hasn’t lost his job yet.

And there’s also always a disappointed beomgyu shaking his head afterwards ready to make fun of him when Soobin promises to make a move but freezes every time you’re in sight, too much of a pussy.

“I’m calling an intervention.” Beomgyu declares and sighs after the nth time of soobin making absolutely no moves on you whatsoever, “Soobin, my man, my bro, you desperately need to get banged. It’s painful seeing the way you act. Your little crush is not gonna like you with the way you act. That’s it. We’re going clubbing tonight after this shift. No buts.”

“But-”

“I said no buts!”

“You know I hate clubbing.”

“You’ve never even been with me despite my constant pleads.” Beomgyu shakes his head and makes a dramatic pained face at his way.

“So? I know I’ll hate it.”

“You’re such a hater bro.”

“Yes I am. And I take pride in it. I’m a hater of everything.”

Beomgyu just sighs. He was utterly hopeless.

Unfortunately, there was no way Soobin could get out of this because beomgyu was having absolutely none of his protests and excuses and that’s how he ends up finding himself at the club anyway after his shift, sitting off to the side as he watches beomgyu disappear somewhere into the crowd. Soobin sighs as he downs his jack and coke. This was going to be a long fucking night.

-

In the dimly lit club, soobin’s discomfort was palpable, like a fish out of water and you noticed instantly upon arrival. It’s that cute tall baker boy who always serves you! You excitedly make your way and sit next to him, he looked a little lonely. “Hey! You work at that bakery on campus. I go there!”

Soobin’s eyes nearly fall out of his sockets at the sight of you sitting next to him and he nearly chokes on his drink as he splutters on his straw and nods. Act calm, act calm, act calm, act calm. Act cool and mysterious.

It’s you! You’re speaking to him?!

“So…these things not really your scene, huh?”

“Gee. How did you ever notice?” Soobin attempts to smile and joke with dry humour but it executes a little more awkward and nervous than how he would have liked.

You also try to carry on the conversation since this is the first time you’ve got to ever actually talk to the cute boy before. “I’m very intuitive. I can just sense things like that.”

He laughs at that too, feeling a bit more comfortable around you now. “No but yeah, I’d much rather be at home right now sleeping. Can’t say I’m much of an advocate for getting stupidly drunk with sweaty people you don’t even know with terrible rave music and flashing lights that should have an epilepsy warning”

“I get it.” You chuckle at how passionate he gets talking about how much he hates clubbing, frown on his cute face. “So why are you here then?”

“Friend wanted me to. Said I needed to finally get laid or whatever.” Soobin rolls his eyes and sips on his drink again, motioning his head to the direction of beomgyu on the dance floor, clearly drunk off his ass now.

“Oh, you’re a Virgin?”

Soobin’s ears go red when he realises what he said to you. “O-oh um y-yeah I guess…”

“Are you waiting for like marriage or the right person or something?” You question, genuinely surprised. He was tall and very attractive and it was rare for college boys to not hook up every single night these days.

“God no. Just never happened. I don’t really care for things like that. It’s probably overhyped anyway and doesn’t even feel that good. Like porn is highly unrealistic anyway.”

“You think so?” You chuckle at him and he nods, continuing to cutely sip on his drink with his straw. “Well maybe you should to try it out first and see for yourself.” Your words start to become a little flirty as you grow more confident talking with him and also because of the alcohol making you slightly tipsy now. “Sorry, but do you want to get out of here?”

“Yes please.” Soobin’s eyes widen even more at your suggestion and he’s more than happy to get out of here with you especially.

“Umm your friend is a bit….out of it right now.” You watch beomgyu drunk from afar, whipping his long hair back and forth claiming to everyone around he’ll be able to do it fast enough to lift off his feet and fly like a helicopter.

“He’ll be…he’ll be fine I’m sure”

Soobin has no idea what good stuff he must have done in his past life to get to this moment right now, in your room, making out with you, in your bed. Did he mention making out? With you?! The customer he’s been crushing on for months?! Holy, he might hyperventilate right now. It all feels like a dream. Is this real right now?

You cup his cheek and move into his lap, continuing to move your lips against his and soobin’s ears and face are all flushed, breathing loud of enough for you to hear and he looks all nervous and a little shaky.

You stop kissing him but he chases after your lips still and you stroke his cheek, “Are you okay Soobin?”

He’s only able to nod, lips parted and eyes all glazed over. He’s so out of it just from making out with you it’s crazy. But so cute too.

“C-can you…can we…just want…”

“What do you want, baby?” You chuckle and stroke his cheek as he manages to utter some words. The petname only makes his head go even more haywire.

“W-want you…”

“What do you want me to do?” You giggle and coo at him.

He shyly shows you the boner he’s had this entire time. You can’t believe he got a boner just from some kissing. “Can you-will you touch me…please? Need it…” He pleads at you nervously, so red in the face.

“Are you sure?”

He nods his head exceptionally fast and you begin to unbuckle his jeans as he watches you take his flushed and hard dick out, breathing only becoming heavier. Damn, you didn’t think he’d be that big.

You take him into your hands and his mouth his already agape, gasping when you slowly start to stroke him.

You pump his big cock at a steady pace so as not to overwhelm him too much, though twisting and thumbing at the tip occasionally that has him drooling at the corner of his mouth and beads of precum dribbling out heavily from his cock. It’s endearing how far gone he is just at you stroking his dick slow, shy whimpers and other noises eliciting from his mouth.

You unbutton you shirt with your other hand as you continue to pump him and his eyes go crazed at the sight of your tits, you guiding his own big inexperienced hands to grope at them and he does, slumping his head into your neck and shoulder moaning into it and still groping and squeezing at your tits.

With a sudden yelp you feel Soobin’s cum spurt up and leak into your hands, his eyes rolling back as he whimpers continuously from his premature orgasm.

He doesn’t lift his head from your shoulder yet, too embarrassed to face you but he eventually does, eyes still half lidded, trying to catch his breath and he’s hard again. “W-will you fuck me? Please please please. Wanna feel it, wanna feel you, please?” He practically begs, still panting out.

“Are you really sure, Soobin? With me?”

“Yes please! Only want you.”

You study his face for any hesitancy but it’s clear he’s so set on wanting you to fuck him. So you wrap your hands around both his wrists and bring him to lay down on your pillows instead, you still straddling his lap.

When you’ve undressed your lower half, you bring his dick and slide it over your entrance a few times, he moans out loud, hands coming up shyly to cover his face and then you sink down incredibly slowly on his massive length . Soobin’s jaw drops and breath hitches at the feeling of his dick finally in your warm pussy, a strangled moan ripping out of him. He could seriously cum just from being in you right now, but he tries so hard not to or you’ll be disappointed and he doesn’t want to see you disappointed or embarrass himself even more.

“You good, baby?”

“M’ f-fine. Just-Just need a minute.” Soobin shakes out.

You take his hands away from his face and lean down to softly kiss him instead, trying to calm him down and he effuses into your mouth, kissing back passionately with his eyes closed.

“I’m ready now…” He pulls away after a while and looks you in the eyes.

So you start to slowly move, riding him, going up and down on his virgin dick. Soobin’s mouth hangs open in endless moans and gasps and whimpers, face buried into your pillow to the side and his hair all messy now. Whole body flushed and shaking underneath you.

“Better than you thought, baby?” You grunt out, bouncing on top of his cock.

“So much better. O-oh my god, f-fuck…ah!” So maybe sex wasn’t overhyped after all. Because goddamn, you feel so fucking good. Maybe it was just you. But Soobin truly feels like he’s gliding on fluffy clouds right now. All the times he’s touched himself not even coming close to how he feels right now stuffed in your pussy as you fuck him, watching mesmerised as your tits bounce with each movement. He could die here right now in full contentment. Oh how he was so wrong.

It’s not long at all before Soobin can’t hold it anymore. His hips bucking up and breath hitching as a loud strangled mewl tumbles out of his mouth and you feel hot cum fill you up suddenly that makes you still your movements on him. He lets out a long slurred groan and then goes limp beneath you, eyes closing shut and open as he fades from conscious to not every now and then. Is he really that fucked out?

After a while, he finally somewhat recovers and comes back to you from his high, still panting out and chest rising up and down. He looks up at you with a small shy smile on his lips, arm thrown over his forehead.

“You know I literally only go to the bakery because of how cute and silly you are and how you always make a mess of yourself whenever I walk in” You chuckle and admit, drawing shapes into his chest.

“W-wait you knew I liked you?” Soobin asks, shocked and feeling embarrassed again.

You laugh, “Come on, you made it rather obvious.”

Please actually reblog !!!!!! and leave comments !!!! guys 😭 if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated and so nice tysm !<3🙏💕🌷🌷! It’s incredibly discouraging and irriating when fics have such little reblogs ☹️. At least send an anon in the inbox if you don’t want to rb, don’t just like. Feedback is always appreciated it make writers want to actually write :)

A/n: having serious writers block rn but forced myself to write this in practically one sitting (it was so painful) and has not been proof read at all so if it makes no sense I apologise 😭

[baeshijima]

— “hands off! i’m taken!”

for the first time in your drunken daze, you don't recognise your own husband.

CONTAINS : gn!reader, 983 wc, fluff, (attempts at) humour, mentions/reference of alcohol consumption

A/N : neuvillette is in pain (emotional) while you are in pain the morning after (literal).

it’s not often neuvillette finds free time amongst the seemingly endless piles of papers on his desk. when he does get some free-time, he always makes sure to treat you out to the places you most recently show interest in. however, these evenings out more often than not result in you having one too many drinks. (“it’s a rare evening date!” you would tut, waving a finger at him while your free hand holds the wine glass.)

he worries for you and your health after all, and he most definitely doesn't want you to experience these so-called "hangovers" you bemoan about as he coddles you through it all the mornings after.

and so what better way to help prevent such a tragedy than by putting a stop to it prematurely?

“hands off! i’m taken!”

…or so he thought.

regardless, that doesn’t change the fact neuvillette now stands in the middle of one of the (now quite humid) private rooms in the upper floor of hotel debord, clutching his stinging hand close to his chest while staring at your huffing form in a mixture of hurt and shock. he blinks once, twice, thrice as he slowly begins to process your words — or, lack of.

“pardon?”

“i said,” you stress, narrowing your gaze at him as you begin to sit up, “hands off! i’ll have you know i’m happily married to the loveliest, most beautifulest man in teyvat and i don’t need some… some meddlesome old creep trying to get in between that.”

were this quite literally any other day besides one you were drunk on, neuvillette would be jumping for joy over the moon (metaphorical… probably) and documenting this moment in his diary he keeps safe and secured in a locked drawer under his desk, positively cooing and sighing in pure adoration at your adorable self.

(he also doesn’t have the heart to tell you beautifulest isn’t exactly a real word, but he’s flattered all the same. and it makes you that much more adorable in his eyes.)

alas, this isn’t any other day. no, instead it is a day which marks his drunk spouse being unable to identify their own husband, and your intoxicated words render him silent. 

now, don’t get him wrong, he’s glad you are, for a lack of better words, raring to defend your marital status and honour when intoxicated. however…

‘meddlesome old creep’? is that how he appears? he thought he looked quite dashing this evening, what with the way you sang his praises after he got himself dressed and questioned if you were actually married to one another.

then again, he supposes it’s still accurate to say you’re still questioning whether or not he is your husband. just not in the joking manner you initially did.

seeing how you’ve begun to grow a little restless with his prolonged silence, neuvillette awkwardly clears his throat and begins in what he hopes is a tone which masks the minor betrayal your words caused. “i’m glad you feel that way about our marriage, mon cœur, but—”

“stop!” neuvillette’s mouth instantly ceases movement. “how… how dare you, a stranger, call me that! just who… who do you think you are? my husband?”

“actually, i am.”

you blink at him. “you’re what?”

“i am your husband. neuvillette.” in all honesty, he doesn’t know why he’s nervous. perhaps it’s your scrutinising gaze causing him to sweat, taking him back to the first days when he could finally put a name to the emotions you brought out from within him — ones which have never weakened, but only seem to grow stronger as the days pass by. his hands clam up, and he’s glad you can’t see him wiping his palms against the fabric of his clothes from where you sit. even when you’re drunk, you tend to remember the most random moments. more often than not, they end up being in some relation to him.

(neuvillette laments the times where you only remembered his brief loss of composure.)

after a few more agonising seconds of staring, you speak up once more. “you’re lying.”

there are many things neuvillette wishes to say in response — such as showing your wedding rings, pulling out the small polaroid of you both nestled within his inner coat pocket, recalling the first day you met, the first day you talked, the first “thank you” you ever said to him, the first—

quickly, he snaps himself out of this spiral. just in the nick of time too, for you open your mouth to say something else. “my neuvillette is cute and lovely and pretty and everything a person could only dream to have.”

is he not cute right now? is he not lovely and pretty right now? is he not everything a person could only dream to have right now? what makes the him through your drunken lens so different to the him in your memories?

against his better judgement, he decides to ask the big question.

“then… may i ask what i am?”

“a liar.” and, as if to rub salt in the wound, you add, “i don’t like liars.”

neuvillette feels as though he could cry.

(when you awoke to a pounding headache the next morning, the last thing you expected was your husband brooding on the edge of the bed, his back facing you as he mumbled something along the lines of, “i would lie for you… not to you…” though it was a little hard to tell amidst the incessant pitter-patter of rain against the window.

despite racking your brain in an effort to figure out what caused him to be in such a state in the first place, the only things you remembered from last night were him wiping his hands on his clothes, as well as him looking as though someone slapped him across the face.

yeah. perhaps it is best you don’t tell him that.)

mon cœur = my heart, which can be read as my sweetheart/other half/life, etc.

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[cillianmurphyygf]

i think i'm in love with you

ꕥ luke castellan x afab!reader

warnings: descriptions of wounds + blood, allusions to sex but no actual smut, shitty writing (i havent wrote a fanfic in multiple years), not proofread cuz im way too lazy, (y/n) isn't used at all in this idk i almost like reading fanfic better without it

summary: you wake up in the middle of the night to strange noises. you find luke outside, with a deep wound in his side. you take him to the lake to take care of him. unfortunately for you, luke's in a teasing mood.

word count: 2.7k

You awoke suddenly to strange noises. Soft groans fell through the walls of your cabin. At first, you assumed it to be something you should be careful not to walk in on. But, as your head cleared up more as you fully woke up, it sounded more like someone who was in pain. 

Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you slowly pulled the covers off of your body and stepped into a pair of soft slippers. You carefully weaved through the various beds in the dark towards the door. The groans continued, rendering you more concerned and nervous. You quietly eased the door open, wincing at every squeak it made. You peeked your head outside, searching for the source of the noise.

Through squinted eyes, your attention eventually landed on a certain Hermes boy laid down in the grass. Luke. You quickly shut the door, completely forgetting about keeping quiet, and tip-toe ran across the grass towards the boy. You and Luke had been friends for quite a while. You arrived at camp a month or so after him, and he was the most welcoming one there. While you remained unclaimed in the Hermes cabin for a few months, it didn’t really hurt as much while you were with Luke. He was the perfect distraction and a great friend, although you had begun to wish for something more.

“Luke!” You whisper yelled, causing him to practically jump a foot off the ground. Looking towards the startling voice, he realized it was you. He quickly sat up, his hand placed on his chest as he tried his best to calm his suddenly erratic breathing.

“Oh, thank gods, it’s just you,” he laughed breathlessly, suddenly wincing and placing his hand on his side. His flushed face turned down toward his wound before he threw his head back again, hissing in pain.

“What happened?!” You exclaimed in a panic, running to close the last piece of distance between you both. You quickly fell to your knees next to him, trying to get a good look at whatever was hidden underneath his hand. He attempted to laugh it off but immediately winced and groaned. His hand remained on his side, hiding whatever had happened. “Luke I’ve gotta see..” you tried.

“I’m fine,” he responded, dismissively. He gave you a tightlipped smile in an attempt to reassure you. It did quite the opposite. You reached your hand to pull his away from his side.

“You’re not fine Luke-” His free hand grasped your wrist tightly, preventing you from moving yours any closer to his wound. You stayed silent and unstill, unsure of the situation. In your moment of stillness, your eyes raked over his hand wrapped tightly around yours. The veins in his hand and forearm looked so perfect, especially under the soft moonlight. You wondered what his hand would look like wrapped around your-

“Hey!” Luke snapped his fingers in front of your face, trying to regain your attention.

“Huh?” You responded, clueless and still in a daze, your eyes stuck on his hand around yours. You could have sworn you saw a sly smirk adorn his face from the corner of your eye but you brushed it off. You were tired, you were probably just seeing things. You snapped out of your trance, looking back at his face, confused about everything. “Luke, you’ve gotta let me help you-”

“Princess, I-”

“I have no idea what you did or what happened to you, but I’m worried and you’re being so confusing right now..” You trailed off, avoiding his eyes for a moment. Princess. You hated (loved) when he used that nickname for you. It gave you hope that he could ever feel the same way about you. You heard Luke sigh.

“Okay, I just got in a bit of a fight with an Ares kid.. he pulled a knife on me, got me in the side.. I was clumsy, made a mistake,” he removed his hand from your wrist, prompting you to reconnect your eye contact. “I’m fine and I’ll be more careful next time.” He smiled, trying to dismiss your worries yet again.

“Can you show me?” You asked tentatively. He looked at you and nodded. You noticed that same smirk from earlier, only softer and more hidden. Maybe you hadn’t been imagining things. You watched his hand reach down to the hem of his shirt. Oh shit. You had not thought about that. You internally facepalmed. You were so fucked. His fingers wrapped around the bottom seam of his shirt as he pulled it up about halfway. Your eyes immediately darted to his wound. A seemingly deep gash ran from about the bottom of his ribs to the top of his pelvis. Blood trickled along his already blood covered skin. Oh it looked bad. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, a nervous habit. 

As you examined the bloody gash, your eyes had other ideas. Your gaze slowly moved on to take in his toned abdomen. He had nice abs, prominent, but not so much like those crazy American bodybuilders. They gave you the creeps. His were just the perfect shape, size, and.. everything about him was perfect. While his side was doused in his own blood, the rest of his abdomen was covered in scattered beads of sweat. He looked good. Like really good. Luke’s sharp intake of breath broke you out of your trance. You quickly cleared your throat, hoping he hadn’t noticed you had been examining the rest of his body instead of his injury. 

“I’d ask if you like what you see but.. I’m in a bit of a predicament currently.” Luke chuckled, referring to the bloody gash. Your face flushed red. Shit, he noticed. You fumbled over your words, trying to form a coherent sentence. He watched you, amused, but still very evidently in pain. You abruptly stood up, offering Luke your hand.

“You got a kit or something I can use?” You asked as you carefully pulled him to his feet. His arm landed to rest over your shoulders. You felt the breath leave your body. He was so close. His body heat radiated heavily onto your already heated body. You hoped he couldn’t feel how hot you are, or how loud and hard your heart was beating. His quiet groan brought you back to your senses.

“Yeah I’ve got a kit hidden in the trees near the beach.” He finally answered. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Why.. there?” You asked, genuinely confused. Luke looked down at you as if you should have already known.

“For times like these.” He replied, as if it were obvious. You just shrugged and let him slowly lead you to the beach. The trek through the grass proved a lot more difficult than you had expected. Random bumps and holes in the dirt caused you both to almost fall multiple times.

“Here,” Luke spoke and pointed a few feet in front of you. You nodded and slowly lowered him to the ground, leaning him against the tree. Your hands rummaged and dug through the dirt in search of Luke’s medical kit. Your fingernail eventually scratched along a hard, plastic surface. You dug your hands further into the dirt to pull the case out of the ground.

“I got it!” You sighed in relief. Your hands were becoming increasingly tired from all of the digging. You sat next to Luke, opening the latches of the small box. He smiled at you, watching your every move, completely mesmerized by you. You grabbed the small bottle of rubbing alcohol and popped it open. You opened your mouth to speak, looking up at Luke, only to find him already looking back at you. You quickly looked away, your face flushing a deep crimson. You took a deep breath before allowing yourself to actually speak.

“I’m gonna need you to hold your shirt up above the cut, if you’re comfortable.” You looked back up at Luke, nervously waiting for his response. You shouldn’t have been that nervous, you were just tending to his wound, nothing else. But still, the idea of asking him to lift up his shirt and reveal his really nice abdomen embarrassed you a lot.

“Yeah of course.” He replied in a suddenly husky, low voice. It caught you off guard, causing even more heat to rush to your cheeks.. and to the spot between your legs. He grasped the hem of his orange shirt and pulled it up, revealing the wound again.

“Okay.. this is gonna hurt, but I’ve gotta clean it out somehow.” You warned, slowly starting to pour the rubbing alcohol over the cut. Luke nodded in acknowledgement, hissing immediately as the strong liquid hit his skin. You hadn’t really treated all too many wounds in your lifetime, let alone a cut as deep and bloody as this one. You hoped you were doing it right and you weren’t making it worse. Luke’s harsh groans and hisses weren’t aiding your stressed mind. Throughout the few minutes you spent drenching his side in rubbing alcohol, you noticed him drop his shirt a few times, muttering apologies, saying his hands were having trouble keeping it up. You brushed it off each and every time it happened. 

Once you finally deemed it enough rubbing alcohol, you moved away from his abdomen, grabbing the cap of the bottle. Your shaky hands tried closing the bottle but to no avail. You were stressed and embarrassed, and your entire body was shaking way too much. Luke’s warm hands grasped yours.

“Hey,” He whispered, grabbing your attention. You looked up at him. “I’ve got it.” He smiled at you, and carefully took the bottle from your palms to close it himself. You whispered your thanks under your breath, so quiet, you almost couldn’t hear it yourself. You reached back into the medical kit to pull out a cloth and an antiseptic wipe. You placed your hand on Luke’s cheek. Red slowly started to creep up his neck and into his cheeks, unbeknownst to you.

“I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna wet the cloth.” You told him, smiling and standing up. 

“You’re too good to me.” Luke said, in that low voice, again. You turned quickly to hide your blush, making your way to the shore, as quick as you could. You dipped the cloth in the cold water and rung it out. You jogged back to Luke at the tree, dropping back onto your knees next to him. You lightly dabbed the cloth around his cut, trying to pick up and clean up the blood all over him. You did your best to avoid pressing into the actual cut, but failed a few times. Luke tried his best to keep his cool, but you could see how much he was hurting. You felt awful. 

Occasionally, Luke would let the hem of his shirt slip out of his hands, obscuring your cleaning abilities. He would apologize profusely, telling you he had no idea why it kept happening. When you would shrug and go back to cleaning the blood, a smug smile would pull at his lips. You were so clueless.

You continued to clean the excess blood off of Luke’s body. His shirt would drop every couple minutes. He would apologize, and you would get back to work. This went on for a little over ten minutes.

You placed the cloth at your side, actually proud of what you had got done so far. You had managed to clean up the majority of the blood from his cut, and it was looking a lot better now. All that was left for now was to wrap it up and then send him for Ambrosia to finish the healing process. 

As you grabbed the roll of bandage from the box, you watched Luke drop his shirt yet again. He sighed dramatically and threw his hands up in defeat.

“I just can’t keep my shirt up. Guess I’m just gonna have to take the whole thing off.” He sighed and grabbed the hem, pulling it up and over his head. You were practically drooling as you watched. The way his muscles flexed when he ripped his shirt off.. it was so.. hot. You could now see his entire toned abdomen, and his chest. Your face was surely beet red at this point. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. 

You had no idea in your trance, but Luke was watching the way you looked at him, a smug smile adorning his perfect face. He loved the way you reacted to his body. He thought you were the cutest thing. It was fun to see you all flustered like this. Eventually, by some miracle you were able to pull your eyes away from Luke’s body to focus on bandaging him up. You hastily unraveled the thin cloth, trying to ignore the burning feeling of Luke’s eyes on you, watching your every move. 

You leaned over his body, trying to reach to start the wrapping. It turned out to be really difficult, as you could barely reach. You sat back and sat there for a moment, trying to clear your head and figure out your next plan of action.

“I’m not sure how I’m gonna..” You admitted quietly, embarrassed. Luke looked up at you with a very clear and obvious smirk on his face. This worried you. You had no idea what he was planning, and you did not want to make a fool of yourself. 

To your immense surprise, Luke’s hands grabbed onto your hips and lifted you off the ground, making you squeal. He sat you down on his lap, in a straddle position. You were so close. Too close. The embarrassingly warm area between your legs sat right over his. You prayed and prayed he couldn’t feel it. You would never live it down.

“That’ll do it.” Luke smiled and pat your thigh encouragingly, causing you to let out a sharp squeak. You gulped and tried to focus on the bandage again. Your shaky hands brought the edge of the bandage to his back as you wrapped it around his torso, multiple times over. You wrapped it tight, but not too tight as to suffocate Luke.

Although, at that point it wouldn’t have mattered. Luke was completely focused on making you a flustered mess. The intense pain he was in was in the very back of his mind. He could barely feel it at this point. He was having way too much fun with you.

After the most painfully long two minutes of your life, you had finally finished wrapping Luke up. You let out a huge breath you didn’t know you were holding, feeling a weight drop off of your shoulders. You had never felt so stressed and embarrassed in your life. You hoped your work would hold up well and you had done it right.

Luke’s arms wrapped around your torso, pulling you in even closer. His nose brushed against yours as he looked up at you through heavy-lidded eyes.

“Thanks for your help,” he whispered in his gravelly voice. He leaned in even closer. “Means a lot.” He mumbled, almost against your lips. Your heart rate was through the roof. He was so close. So close you could kiss him. You could feel his breath mingling with yours. The warmth between your legs only continued to grow now. Luke chuckled lowly, watching the thoughts flow through your mind.

Luke moved his lips ever closer to yours. Dropping to a deep whisper, he spoke again. “I think.. I’m in love with you..” His lips moved slowly to capture yours. Your eyes widened, before you closed them, easing into his kiss. 

Your lips moved in perfect unison, as if made for eachother. Your hands moved to grip his dark curls. You softly pulled, feeling him moan into your mouth. Luke pulled away, moving his lips to your neck. Nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. He was sure to leave many marks on your delicate skin.

“I-” You were cut off by your own moans as Luke’s hands moved to rest on your breasts while his kisses along your neck became harsher. He slowly pulled away from your neck, keeping his hands on your chest.

“What were you gonna say, baby?”

“I.. love you as well.” You replied, breathless. Luke smirked, crashing his lips into yours again.

[dammn-dean]

Unexpected Pt. 2

Pairing: Simon Riley x Female Reader

Words: 2700+

Warnings: Pregnancy, vague birth talk, mild panic attack, if I missed anything sorry

(Honestly I have given birth in a hospital, but it was complicated so I didn't get to experience a normal after birth situation. So if this is incorrect, sorry!)

Here is part two🖤 Hope you all enjoy it! It's a bit short, and sweet. I do plan on doing some blurbs/continue eventually. Thank you all for reading!

Part One

Beautiful art/rendering from @ave661

The next few moments are a blur to you both, for different reasons. Simon parks the car in front of the emergency entry, barely allowing for the car to come to a complete stop before he’s out of the car. You barely register as he slides on a black surgical mask when he comes around the car to open your door. Next thing you know he’s leading you inside, talking to a woman at the front desk and getting you into a wheelchair. You are filling out some paperwork as you are wheeled through the hospital, in between contractions that are consistently spaced apart now. 

Simon keeps murmuring small words of encouragement to you, but he’s scared shitless. Pretending to be brave in this moment for you, yet he feels anything but brave. 

There are a lot of questions that you give answers to as best you can. Simon can barely keep up… there is so much moving around and plans being spoken between nurses. The next thing he knows you are in a hospital bed, donning a gown, being told your doctor should be here within 5 to 10 minutes. 

“I’m going to check your dilation now, okay?” A young and sweet woman that is apparently your nurse for now speaks up. 

You just nod your head, watching as she gets the stirrups ready for your feet to go in. Once ready she guides your feet to the correct sport before reaching for a pair of gloves. 

You glance up to Simon, who is as quiet and still as a ghost. Standing to the left of your bed, fists clenched so tight you wonder if his fingers are going to lose feeling soon. 

“Si?” You question. 

That breaks his stone resolve. It was like a switch flipped in him, as he forced his mind to catch up with what was happening. 

He finally tore his eyes away from the nurse as her hand began to disappear under your gown. When his eyes fell to you and your outstretched hand he immediately grabbed your smaller hand into both of his large ones. Kissing the back of your hand through the material of the mask. 

“You ‘kay love?” Simon was gentle, from his touch to his tone. 

“Yes… just a little uncomfortable,” you said just above a whisper. 

“I bet so sweetheart.” He brought a hand to brush some hair back from your face. “You are doing great,” he encourages you. 

“Looks like you are about 5 centimeters dilated! Great news mom and dad.” The nurse tore off her gloves and put them in the trash before typing away on the computer in the room to update your chart. 

Simon felt all of the air rush out of his lungs. Dad?? How did he not think before that he was about to be a dad. Sure… he understood what was happening, but there was something about hearing this nurse call him dad that struck a chord with him. His ears filled with static and he stiffened all over again. 

You watched as his pupils shrunk, he pulled his hands from you and stood straight as a board beside you. 

“Simon?” You softly called to him. Nothing. 

His eyes were trained on the wall behind the nurse who was innocently typing away on the computer. 

You called for him two more times, watching his chest speed up with more and more rapid breaths. You said his name one more time quite loudly, which got the nurses attention. She looked up at him, staring past her and noticed the signs of a panic attack blooming in him. 

Simon wasn’t in the room with you now, his mind lost on his past. 

“Sir?” The nurse gently started working her way to him. 

Before she could fully make it to him, a contraction started up for you again. You wailed out in pain, and as quick as Simon zoned out and started panicking he stopped. Hearing your pain pulled him from his dark mind. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, truly embarrassed. 

“It’s okay sir,” the nurse spoke softly. “Would you like to sit down for a moment?”

“I’m fine, just make sure she’s okay.” He left no room for argument. 

Resuming his spot at your side, ignoring whatever that was just happening to him. He gently kissed your hairline through the mask again while speaking to you sweetly until the pain subsided. Once your breath had started evening out your tired eyes fell onto Simon. The nurse nodded at him before finishing typing what she needed and mentioned the next steps that would be happening before excusing herself from your room for a moment. Her words went in one of your ears and out the other for you.

“You okay?” You asked, squeezing his hand this time to comfort him.

“Don’t you worry about me, love,” Simon said apologetically. 

You gave him a nod, but internally you were freaking out about his reaction. Your mind rolled back a few moments before he started panicking, trying to figure out what happened. 

Simon has had a few moments in your time together where certain things trigger him, which is beyond understandable. The memory of the nurse calling you mom and dad moments before finally registering with you. That small thought had your heart instantly feel heavy, and not in the best way. 

You felt your eyes get glossy, this same feeling of shame bursting through your chest. Your mind reminding you how unfair this all is to him, he never got the choice about IF he wanted to be a father… hell you didn’t even give him a notice that he was going to be a dad. Your brain was all muddled, but the only thing standing out to you is that you can’t remember why you never told him. It all seemed so silly now, who cares if you had an argument. Who cares that he was working. It was your responsibility to tell him that you were pregnant, to let him know that he was going to be a dad, and especially to give him the option to be involved or not. 

You gently removed your hand from his, allowing it to fall into your lap with your other hand. Eyes falling to your lap, unable to stop the tears from falling and trying your best to shield them from Simon. Even though you knew he would notice, how could he not?

“Are you hurting? Want me to call for the nurse?” Simon got the words out quickly, reaching for the button to call the nurse.

“No.. I’m okay,” you whispered with a shrug.

His brows frown down at you, clearly you aren’t okay. Your small sniffles provide proof of that. Simon’s spine straightened, eyes taking you in as his mind moved a mile a minute trying to come up with a solution. 

“Do you remember at the apartment, the promise you made me?” Simon asked softly.

You sniffled out a small “Yeah..”

“That if you have something you need to tell me, you will do it. Yeah?” 

You nod your head softly before meeting his eyes briefly.

“What is it baby?” He asked, hand reaching into your lap and interlocking your fingers together.

“I’m just so sorry,” you respond quietly. “And I know you told me to stop saying sorry but I truly am.”

“Love,” Simon began, but you cut him off. “I didn’t give you the opportunity to come to terms with all of this. I just sprung it all on you, and-”

Simon knelt beside you, making him eye level with you. 

“Do I wish I would have known before? Sure love… but mainly because I hate you have done all of this alone. It eats me alive. I am supposed to be the one taking care of you, but I was selfish. Never made sure you knew what you were to me. I will never let that happen again, okay?”

“Then what just happened to you?” You whisper. His hazel eyes squint a little, but they never leave yours. 

Simon was silent for a while which heightened your anxiety. That’s when the beginnings of another contraction started. Your hand squeezing Simon as you rode through the pain. You barely register his voice, soft and sweet, talking you through the pain.

“Don’t you worry about that sweetheart, but after this. And we have our baby… I will be sure to explain everything to you okay? All you need to know is I am here, and I can’t wait to be a father to our child.” Simon knew he owed an explanation, but now wasn’t the time.

Simon tugged his mask down enough so he could press a kiss to your hairline while using his free hand to wipe away the last few tears from your wet cheeks.

“Good evening,” your doctor enters the room and announces himself. 

Simon gently clears his throat as he straightens the mask on his face before standing up to take his proper place beside you.

You didn’t feel 100% better, but knowing he would explain more. You fixed your mental state as much as you could, you knew this way was about to be the toughest thing you have been through. 

There was some small chat between your doctor, Simon and you. Talking about the birth plan, checking your dilation, planning the next steps as well as you could. Before you know it you are pushing, and pushing. Simon is next to you the entire time, feeding you ice chips and doting on you constantly. “You are doing so good, lovie.” - “There you go, my strong girl, you got this.” - “You are so perfect, sweetheart.” - “Almost there love, you are doing great.”

Somewhere between the tears, the pain, the constant pressure and with help from nurses and doctors. You hear cries. Your body feels instant relief, and the joy that bursts across your chest is unlike anything you have ever felt. Your eyes fall to Simon, he’s standing stiff as a board. Eyes never leaving the newborn as the nurse gently cleans the baby’s body as the doctor finishes up with you. Before you know it they are gently laying your baby onto your chest.

“Congratulations mom… a beautiful healthy baby girl!” The nurse whispers excitedly to you as she pulls your hands back, ensuring you have the baby. 

You can’t hold back the few tears that fall, “She’s a girl.” 

Your nose taking in her smell, your lips gently brushing her head. A perfect baby girl. After a few moments of silence, you look for Simon. His hands shoved in his pockets, standing to your side, eyes on your baby girl. 

“We have a baby girl, Si.” You can’t help the smile on your lips. 

Simon’s chest rose and fell rapidly, taking everything in. He was a father to a baby girl. 

“She’s so small,” Simon comments softly. 

“She sure is,” you praised. “And perfect.” Your finger found her hand, letting it wrap around your finger. You looked at the small amount of hair on her head, her eyelashes, her cheeks, her fingers, just taking her all in. After about 5 minutes of silence, a nurse speaks.

“Congratulations you two, would dad like a turn holding her?” She asked politely as she reached for your daughter.

“Here Si,” you encouraged. Gently handing the baby to the nurse. Watching her carefully as she took the baby from you, walked around the bed to Simon and she patiently stood in front of him. 

Simon of course wanted to hold her, but she was tiny. He had only really ever been around one baby before, his nephew and he couldn’t for the life of him remember him being this small. His blurred eyes took in her features, she was beautiful. 

“I uh-” he cleared his throat. “I don’t know if I can. She’s so small and I’m so-” he gestured to himself. Clearly uncomfortable with the idea of his hulking frame, meant for killing to hold this sweet innocent baby. His sweet innocent baby girl. 

“You can hold her, just trust me, you can do it” you encouraged. “Look at me Simon.”

He almost had to force his eyes from your daughter so he could look at you. Your sweet face, eyes tired but shining happily, encouraging him. You almost took his breath away, beautiful as ever. If you believe in him, maybe he should believe in himself.

“I love you, you can hold her. Look at her Si, our daughter, she wants her daddy.” You swallowed hard, not entirely sure if that is what he needed to hear or not.

Barely a moment went past before he held his hands out towards the nurse. She showed him exactly what to do, she never let go of the baby until she was certain that he was ready. Before you knew it there he was, as still as he had ever been, barely even breathing as he held her. 

You couldn’t believe it, seeing her tiny body being held by such a mass, that is Simon. A singular hand of his is almost the size of her whole body. You felt warmth bloom across your chest watching him with her. The way his stiff shoulders eventually relaxed more. How he leaned into her, smelling her tiny head, followed by whispers you couldn’t hear. 

“I can’t believe I have a daughter,” Simon chuckles out with a wet laugh. “I am so proud of you baby.” He then turns to you, “You did amazing.” 

Brown eyes filled with unshed tears hold onto yours that are allowing tears to fall freely. “We did amazing, Si…” you said truthfully. “Just look at her, she’s as much me as she is you.” 

Simon pulled his eyes back to the sweet baby in his arms. “Yeah I guess so, huh?” He could even see that the tiny wisps of hair on her head were definitely the exact shade of his. 

It was then the nurse popped back up, “And what are we naming her mom and dad?” She asked innocently. 

How have you both forgotten you need a name for the baby? 

“Uh- well we haven’t quite decided yet,” Simon answered quickly. 

“That’s perfectly okay! No rush,” she responded politely. “Let’s finish getting her and mom all cleaned up. Then I’ll get you to your room. How does that sound?” 

Simon looked at you, you nodded at him with a grin. 

“Sounds great, thank you.” He responded politely. 

The nurse went back to him to grab your daughter, hands out waiting. Only Simon didn’t budge. His eyes were solely focused on the baby in his arms. 

“Sir?” She questioned gently. 

Simon almost startled before looking at her, then down at the baby again, and back to the nurse. 

“I just need her for a little bit, then you can have her back. How does that sound?” 

Simon actually grumbles, no words, just grumbles. 

Fuck, you love him. “Simon,” you almost laugh. “Let the nurse have her baby.” 

He doesn’t give in immediately, a minute or so passes before he huffs and gently hands her over to the nurse. 

“Thank you…” the nurse smiles at him. “The doctor will be right back to assist you with another nurse. I’ll meet you both in your room.” She turns to you. “Okay?”

“Okay,” you say to her, eyes not leaving the baby. 

A moment goes by and you turn your head to Simon to find his eyes already on you. Nothing but pure adoration for you. 

“You’re going to be the best daddy ever,” you whisper to him truthfully. 

“I can only promise you that I will give it my all,” Simon says honestly. Hand nervously touching the back of his neck. “I only wish to give you both the best life possible.” 

Both of your eyes are unwavering, holding each other trying to convey emotions you can’t quite say out loud. You aren’t naïve, you know this will be hard, of course raising a human together won’t be easy. If there was anyone in the world you would be willing to go through this with, it was Simon. 

“I know this was all… unexpected, but I don’t think I have ever felt happier than I feel at this moment. Right now.” 

“Ditto, love.” You can hear his smile. “Ditto.” 

Tags: @daemondoll @mileyraes @axoleos @arminarlertssword @wawuwe @cxltblood @mrflyingbanana03 @itsmytimetoodream @arminarlertssword @mrssabinecallas @babygirl-riley @gplol @yuly

Thank you for reading! If you have an idea or request for where they go from here, feel free to send 🖤

[satorusugurugurl]

This is kinda angsty angst. But what about one where reader got into an argument with jjk boy (maybe either satosogu, nanami, or choso) and they stop functioning or start getting reckless during missions and get really hurt. And they have a lil soft smutty smut to show reader that they love them and want them to stay on this planet.

Maybe I Should!

Pairing: Nanami Kento x FAB!Reader

Warnings: Yelling, fighting, blood, near-death experience, makeup, soft sex, fluff at the end, romance,

Word Count: 3,179

A/N: When I got this request, Nanami was the first to come to mind! I love him so much this request was made for him.

“You cannot take this mission!” Nanami snapped, cornering you against a wall. “It's too dangerous!”

“It's a grade-one curse! I'm a grade-one sorcerer; it’s an even match!” You shot back, ducking under his arm, reaching for your bags. “I’m not some fragile flower for you to protect.”

Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose, following behind you with a scowl. “This is not about me treating you like you’re fragile! I’ve read the case files! I’ve seen the damage that curse had done! This is way out of your league.” The room grew hotter with your growing rage.

“I can handle this!”

“No, you can’t!”

“Yes, I can!”

Nanami’s hand snapped forward, the veins in his arms and wrist flexed as he held onto you firmly. His touch wasn’t painful or too rough; it was gentle, allowing you to pull away at any given moment. For the first time since he told you you shouldn’t go, you stopped, turning to glance up at him. You were expecting to meet pleading eyes begging you not to go, to stay here. That gaze was nowhere to be found. Instead, you were met with a stern, cold look. One that just ticked you off even more.

You looked away as you yanked your wrist from his grasp. “I’m going; I can handle this on my own.” Your boyfriend remained silent. “I’m not one of the children at the high school.” A lump formed in your throat as you tilted your chin to give him a severe glare. “You tend to forget how strong I am. You look at me like I’m some pretty little weak housewife. I’m not!” Nanami scoffed; it was full of annoyance as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Yes, I am aware; if you were my housewife, you would have the decency to at least listen to what I have to say!”

“If that’s what you fuckin’ want, maybe you should go out and find yourself a girl like that!”

“Maybe I should!!”

His words were like an ice pick to your gut. Those three words stole the breath from your lungs, rendering you speechless. Nanami’s honey-brown eyes didn’t meet yours; they glared down at the floor as he clenched his jaw so tight you could see the muscles in his neck twitch. You felt tears burning in your eyes; you struggled to find the words to say.

What was there to say? He had said enough. Maybe the two of you had grown apart from the missions you both kept taking. Perhaps this fight was the end of you and him.

“Love, I didn’t mean—“

“You did.” His eyes finally met yours; they were wide, full of confusion and regret. “You meant every word.” Tears blurred your vision as you wiped angrily at your eyes. “I have a plane to catch; let’s put a pin in—“ you motioned between the two of you. “us ending our relationship right now. I can’t focus on it when I have a mission.”

“Wait!” Nanami called out your name before you stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door.

The conversation, well, the fight, plagued your mind the entire way to Okinawa. His words, the anger that twisted over his face. Thinking of his reaction was a bundled mess of doubt and heartache that sat upon your chest and clouded your mind.

‘Maybe I should!’

Anger fumed within the deepest part of your soul as you lowered a veil around the abandoned shrine you were sent to cleanse. Maybe he should pull his head out of his ass! You weren’t that same high schooler that was a year younger than him! You didn’t run off to be a businessman! You stuck it out and got more scars than you could count! So maybe he should realize you could take care of yourself!

Your fuming anger blinded you as you walked through the halls, glaring around corners, trying to sense the energy of this stupid curse. But Nanami’s stupid face, the rage, regret, the sorrowfulness in his eyes when he said, ‘Maybe I should,’ left his lips crossed your mind. He turned pale when you told him you would discuss ending your relationship. Thinking about him, about what was to come for the two of you, had you stopping in your tracks.

Ending things with Nanami was the last thing you wanted to do. But he needed to come to terms with the fact that you weren’t as weak as he thought. You were as strong as him; you could handle missions independently—even grade-one curses.

A grade-one curse that came out of nowhere and slammed you against the wall so hard you saw black spots. A wheezed, pained gasp escaped you as your eyes widened in shock. It is a curse made out of thick thorns, garbling and swaying. You moved as fast as your body would allow, a thorny arm slashing over your back, causing a wretched scream to crawl up your throat as you ducked and rolled behind a pillar.

Blood soaks into your shirt, coating the fabric as you pull out your talisman paper. Using blood from your cheek, you scribble out ‘purify’ over the parchment before embedding your cursed energy into it. Blue energy flowed around it as you rolled out from behind the pillar, tossing it towards the cursed spirit. Despite the fact the talisman was written on paper, your cursed technique made all your talismans hit your targets like daggers.

As your talisman struck the curse in the center of the face, it screamed in pain before it dissipated into black smoke, fading away. You let out a pained whine as you limped forward, glaring down at its fading form. But as its mouth began to fade, it laughed. It was a laugh that made your skin crawl and goosebumps rise over your skin. Something wasn’t right about this.

Whirling around, you were met face-to-face with another thorn-cursed spirit. This one was larger and stronger than the last. Nanami’s words from earlier ran through your veins like ice.

‘I’ve read the case files! I’ve seen the damage this curse has done!’

Little did the both of you know, this curse turned out to be curses—two of them, both grade one. The first one was strong, but this one, this one was crazy stupid strong. If you didn't move, you'd be killed. You rushed forward, reaching for more paper in your pocket, only to be thrown across the floor, your head hitting the floor with a heavy crack!

With blurry vision, you slowly sat up before collapsing forward as the curse rushed towards you. Thorn-covered limbs and vines wrapped around your legs, yanking you towards it. Its mouth opened, and a large tongue lolled out as you hit the ground with every yank. You screamed in defiance, kicking and screaming, tearing your flesh on the thorns, fighting to grab a piece of parchment out. The curse only seemed to enjoy your pitiful wails as you wrapped around you tighter, its tongue slowly sliding up your back as you drew closer towards its mouth.

That was its first mistake; as it brought inches near its open mouth, you roared, slamming a talisman onto its tongue. The paper burned with cursed energy before the kanji ‘purification flames’ lit up, engulfing the curse in blue fire. As it burned, its grip on you loosened, freeing and allowing you to crawl back, watching it thrash and scream.

You stared into the flames, wheezing roughly as you groaned. A see-through version of Nanami stood there, glaring down at you in disapproval as you struggled to stand. The Nanami said nothing as you gripped your side with a weak chuckle.

“S-See, I was f-fine.” you limped forward, “I could handle it.” Nanami shook his head. “Dead as a doorna-Gaaahk!” Blood spurted from your mouth as a stabbing pain shot through your stomach. Stumbling, you looked down with blurry vision at a large blackthorn emerging from your abdomen. Your blood dripped onto the ground as the throne turned to ash.

‘You were reckless.’ The Nanami before you watched as you fell to your knees, your hands clasped firmly over your bleeding wound. ‘Reckless, weak, not even worthy of being a housewife.’

Either his words or the pain had you collapsing onto your side, blood bubbling out of your mouth. Nanami, your Nanami would never say that. Iron flooded your taste and smell as you watched Nanami fade. Nita came rushing in, falling to her knees and shaking you as you stared weakly into the distance.

Perhaps you should have listened to him instead of fighting with him. He was only looking out for you, trying to keep you safe. But you had taken his adoration and concern for you as him seeing you incapable of taking this dangerous mission on. A weak laugh escaped you as you felt Nita dragging you, screaming into a phone.

Maybe being a housewife wouldn't be that bad. It might have been fun. But you would never get to experience that. Your body was too cold as blood seeped out through your fingers as someone pulled you into a car. Your name turned into humming as you shut your eyes.

“Darling,”

“Hm?” You asked, opening your eyes before shifting slightly against the warm body you were snuggling.

“Hi,” Kento reached down, stroking your cheek with one hand while he held a book in the other. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mhmm.” you snuggled into his side, breathing in the smell of salt water. “I had a terrible nightmare. I almost died.”

Kento’s warm hand brushed gently over your cheek. “It’s a good thing it was only a dream.” He whispered, bring your face up to him. “I couldn't bear the thought of losing you, love.”

“Mhm, I love you, Kento.”

“And I love you.”

Slowly lifting your head, you grinned at him as he kissed you deeply. He was sitting on a beach towel under an umbrella. The sound of ocean waves crashing over the shore had you fading further into the reality you had made. Where you and Nanami finally got out of Japan and made a life on a tiny island somewhere far away.

A beach somewhere far away, where you could spend your days walking the shore, enjoying the sweet ocean air. This was a place where Nanami could be free. Somewhere far, far away from all the blood and death the two of you had faced—a little slice of heaven.

And it was a reality that didn't exist.

Blinking in your summer oasis, your vision became clearer. Ocean waves turned into the chirping of medical machines and heavy snoring. The warmth of the sand was the warmth of blankets covering you. And the smell of Nanami was because your boyfriend was sleeping in a chair beside your hospital bed.

Disorientation overcame you as you sat up, wincing at the stiffness of muscles and pain in your stomach. Your mouth was too dry, and your head was pounding. What had happened? Where were you? How long have you been out?

“Ken?” your voice was hoarse and broken, but the man next to you jolted.

Dark circles had formed under his eyes as he jumped out of his chair, his hands cupping your face. His honey-brown eyes, which had been filled with anger the last time you saw him, were now filled with utter relief. He pulled you into his chest, his hands gently stroking your hair back as you shuddered, a sob working his way up his throat.

“I thought I lost you.” He whispered, his voice broken. “I almost fuckin’ lost you.”

His relief was contagious; you felt yourself easing into him, crying softly into his chest as he crawled into the bed with you. His arms gently wrap around you, cradling you into his body. No words needed to be spoken; the touch and sobs you both shared conveyed every regret and emotion you both had been feeling.

You were lucky to be alive, thanks to Nita’s quick work and the work of the doctors at the local hospital. They kept you in a stable condition long enough for Shoko and Nanami to take the soonest plane to Okinawa. Shoko helped speed up the healing process, and you were released three days later. During those three days, neither you nor Nanami brought up the previous fight. Which you were grateful for until he helped you into your shared apartment. As he shut the door, placing your bags in the living room, you sighed.

“Kento, we need to talk.”

“Yes, we do.” he agreed, following you into the bedroom, where the two of you sat on the bed. “I would like to—”

“No, I'm going to start.” You interrupted, placing a hand on his chest. “Kento, I-I’m so sorry I acted as I did. I was frustrated and angry, and—” You swallowed hard, “I realized you were only looking out for me, and instead of taking your words to heart, I twisted them into something they weren't. S-So if you want to end this, to find a more ideal partner, I understand.”

Nanami gently interlaced his fingers with yours. “I said some terrible things myself. I know you're strong, love, and capable of going on missions and taking care of yourself. But I will always tell you the truth. If something looks difficult to me, that says a lot.” The truth hurts as you nod, swallowing even harder. “That being said, my agreement to find a more suitable housewife was immature and moronic of me. You're the only wife I want in my life.”

He cupped your cheeks, kissing you as softly as he could. “K-Kento? You mean that?” The words came out as a blubbering mess as he laid you down on the bed, fingers grazing under your shirt.

“Every single word, I love you; you're the only wife I want.”

“I-I love you too, Kento.”

Nanami gently pushed you back against the bed, his lips trailing down your neck as his hands gently ran up and down your sides. “I want to worship every part of your body.” Hands slid under your shirt, gently grabbing the fabric, tugging it up and over your head. “You're such a beautiful love. I adore you; you're the best thing that ever happened to me.”

You shivered as his hands trailed over the large scar on your stomach, gently caressing it. “K-Kento~” He sat back, allowing you to remove his shirt before he trailed kisses over every single inch of exposed skin.

“I want to make love to you. I need to caress you,

Feel you, and adore you.”

Nanami trailed kisses over your shoulders as he slotted himself between your legs with a groan. Seeing the arch you squirmed and arched against him was all the encouragement Nanami needed to keep going. He slid his hand into your panties, gently rubbing circles around your clit, making you buck against his hand.

“I can't lose you; I need you in my life.” His sweet words had you moaning louder than his fingers plunging inside of you. “It’s you; it’ll always be you, baby.”

Nanami was true to his words. He worshiped you with his tongue, fingers, and lips. Bringing you over the edge countless times before he finally began passing his thick girthy cock into you with a groan. Once the tip is inside, you both inhale sharply. Your eyes were boring into each other, fingers interlacing.

The air is thick with lust and passion as Nanami slowly sets a steady pace. He was continuing to slide into you before he finally bottomed out. His back muscles twitched as he groaned against your lips, staying buried inside of you as you lazily kissed each other.

“B-Babbyy~”

“Y-You feel so good inside of me, Kento~”

“And you feel fucking perfect wrapped around me, my love.” His lips find yours, slotting against yours in a deep passionate kiss; the sweet lingering fast of coffee and sweetbreads flood your mouth as he starts thrusting deeply into your tight pussy with a grunt.

Nanami is slowly and sensually fucking into you. His mouth against yours, both your whines and moans getting lost in the other's mouth: you had made life countless times before, but this time was different. It was different because Nanami put his entire heart and soul into each kiss and thrust. He was cautious of how tight he squeezed your fingers while paying attention to the quest your body gave him. The man was putting his everything into his movements.

And you could taste it, god, it was so sweet. The gentleness, the softness in his groans as he gently rocked into you. While his hands gently caressed you. This was perfect; it was the literal embodiment of true love. A love that you would never in a million years let slip away.

“K-Kento~ I-Im not going to last m-much longer.”

“Me neither.” he gasped against your mouth as his hips bucked faster, the bed creaking under the two of you with his thrusts. “Cum with me~ I need to feel you cum around my cock~ I need to feel it~ please love, please~”

“K-Ken~! Ken~!” You cried out in-between kisses as he fucked you into an intense orgasm. He gritted his teeth as your walls pulsated around him, drawing him over the edge with you. Your name left his lips like a prayer as he filled you with his cum fucking it as deep as your body would allow.

Kenton only stopped when you both were a sweaty heap of entangled limbs. “M-Mmm, fuck, I love you,” Kento whispered, pushing strands of your hair out of your face. “I love you so damn much~ please don't ever leave me.” he pressed his head against yours, breathing in every breath you exhaled as you both came down from your orgasmic bliss.

“I-I won't.” You whispered against his lips as he moved, grabbing your left hand. “I swear, Nanami.”

He shifted, reaching for something under his pillow. Your heart lurched as you felt him slide a ring onto your finger. Glancing down at it, you choked on your gasp as a glittering diamond ring shone on your finger.

“Say it again.”

“I swear I'll never leave you.” you kissed him deeply. “I love you~ I love you so much~!”

“I love you too, god I love you.” Nanami kissed you, his future wife, as hard as possible without hurting you. “We’ll be together forever.” His hips rocked gently into you.

You made love all day. Gently kissing each other until you both finally laid down to rest in the last afternoon. Nanami softly snored as he held you, and you just laid there, basking in the afterglow of sex and the elation of being engaged. Your diamond ring glittered in the sunlight shining through the window before you curled into Nanami’s chest, sighing happily.

Being with him like this, was your own personal paradise that you never wanted to leave.

[mysaintkitten]

A Good Wife (blurb) | Tommy shelby x fem!reader

WARNINGS: SMUT (18+ MDNI) mean/manipulative tommy (heheh), mentions of overstimulation/multiple orgasms

“T-Tommy slow down … please-“ you sob out, digging your nails into the side of Tommy’s torso as he pounded into you from behind. Your bodies side by side in bed, Tommy’s thick fingers rubbed calculated circles on your clit.

“Are you trying to disappoint me, love?” Tommy growled lowly, the familiar spicy and woody notes of whisky linger on his breath.

You whine and shake your head, not wanting to let Tommy down. You didn’t want to disappoint him, but the overstimulation was becoming unbearable. You’d lost track of how many times you’d come at this point.

Tommy loved making you feel nice- but he also loved pushing its limits, seeing how much pleasure you could handle before you broke. He never really cared if you did break though. You’re his wife, his property, which made him feel entitled to using you whenever he liked.

“Then be a good wife and take it.” Tommy asserted, his gravely voice made your core clench around him, earning a small purr from Tommy.

Your overwhelming slickness caused Tommy to slide out for a moment, his flushed wet cock pressed against your lower lips. He rolls his hips, watching your expression from over your shoulder as he teases your sensitive folds. His gaze darkens as he watches your face contort while he pushes his length back inside you before rolling his hips back out.

“It h-hurts-“ you pant, shaking your head as another orgasm begins to build up inside you. He kisses the back of your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses and occasional bites.

“Sweetheart …” Tommy hums, slowing his thrusts down to an agonizing pace, you to feel each and every inch of his cock inside you. He dragged his hand up from between your legs to your breast, gripping the flesh before lightly pinching your nipple. “Keep your fuckin’ mouth shut.”

Your eyes started to well with tears, the pain and pleasure of it all becoming too much to handle. With each thrust a small whimper was being punched out of you. Your mind started to get cloudy, your thighs uncontrollably twitching as you came for Tommy.

Tommy chuckles as he watches you shake and mewl for him, drenching his cock yet again. He begins to turn you over, forcing you onto your stomach while he continues to fuck into you from behind. His pace wasn’t faster but it was deeper and harsher, rendering you completely helpless beneath him.

“Had enough, baby?” Tommy taunts, his cock relentlessly slamming inside you. He knew the answer, of course, he just wanted to hear you say it.

“Y-yes!” You yelp into the mattress, the pillow muffling your voice.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you, love.”

“Yes, t-too much!” You cry out again, this time lifting your head off the pillow as best you can to respond to him.

Tommy scoffs before smacking your ass, “Too fuckin’ bad.”

—

short little blurb i’m just thinking about getting some degrading dick from Thomas Shelby

[blackleatherjacketz]

If you are taking reqs for fics, you should totally do one where reader is sore from training or something else(😏) and Miguel offers to massage readers legs, in which turns into him eating reader out!

Miguel O'Hara x Female Reader

Summary: Miguel insists on helping you stretch out your hamstrings.

Warnings: 18+ Only!, Explicit Smut, Mature Content, Mutual Pining, Sassy Miguel, Persuasion, Power Dynamics, Dom Miguel, Touch-Starved Reader, Avoidant Reader, Thigh Stretching, Thigh Riding, Thigh Kissing, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Miguel Using His Nose *Creatively*

Word Count: 1.7k

Notes: I hope you like this, Nonny! It got a way from me a bit:)

Read my other MIGUEL stories!

“You’re doing it wrong.” His voice is slick like oil as it spreads through the air and into your ears, coating you in its deliciously dark warmth as he approaches you from behind.

“Oh really?” You keep your palms pressed against the wall as that warmth intensifies, stretching the muscles in your calf as you feel the heat from his breath reach the back of your neck. “How so?”

“You’ve been groaning every time you stand up from your chair.” The weight of the mat beneath your feet shifts and bends with each step he takes toward you until he stops just a few inches short, inhaling a little longer than normal before speaking again. “That stretch isn’t going to help your hamstrings any.”

“No?” You keep your back to him, switching legs before continuing your usual stretches to ease your well-earned muscle pain. “Maybe my calves hurt, did you ever think about that?”

“I can help with those, too.” That dark, inky tambre oozes itself around your body, dripping down your torso and into your core as his words blow a few strands of hair away from your shoulder.

It’s only a matter of seconds now before he touches you, before that black abyss takes you under completely; rendering you helpless against his charm that you’ve been trying to ignore these past few weeks. Those innocent looks he stole from you across the room had quickly morphed into longing gazes that kept you up at night, spurning a fire inside that could only be stoked by one thing. You wonder if being submerged in this desire with him is something that could put this flame out for good; or if succumbing to your primal urges would only ignite this chemical reaction into a combustion impossible to recover from.

“By mansplaining my own stretches to me?” You bring yourself out of your own head and lean further into the wall, extending your muscle in a slow, aching release as he stands still behind you.

“I’m not…” he trails off, backing away only slightly. “I’m not mansplaining.”

“Really?” You finally turn to face him and notice that instead of his usual red and blue suit, he’s wearing shorts and a tank top to match your own. A fresh stain of sweat dampens the worn down collar that stretches across his muscular chest, testing your resolve even further as you try to keep your cool with a casual wink. “What would you call it then, huh?”

You turn to walk away from him, stopping only as he instinctively grabs hold of your arm in a quick attempt to keep you near. He steals another glance, stalling your departure with a gentle tug back in his direction, only this one lasts a little longer than those before it. This one allows you to see the varying colors of red, brown and black in his eyes as they carefully study your face, matching the color of that dark, salacious fluid that reaches the very tips of your toes and glues your feet to the ground.

Uh oh.

Now you’re sinking.

“You’re touching me,” you point out, glancing down at his hand before looking back up at his gorgeous face.

“Do you want me to stop?” The boldness of his question forces you to inhale as his fingers encircle your wrist, his calloused fingertips sending a rush of warmth up your arm as they gently pull you in even closer.

Well, do you?

“No,” you whisper, barely able to recognize your own voice as the word allows him to trace his way up your forearm. “No, I don’t,” you clarify.

“Then what do you want?” He asks again, his voice dropping an octave as it vibrates in his chest.

You shiver in silence as his thumb nestles into the crook of your arm, grazing back and forth over its delicate skin like a pendulum, raising the tiny hairs on your skin as he awaits your answer. His lips are closer than they’d ever been before, full and parted as you allow him to alter your center of gravity with another gentle pull. You’re close enough now to smell his sweat as it mixes in with the sandalwood of his cologne, that intoxicating concoction making it that much harder for you to resist sinking down any further.

“I want you to touch me.” You finally give in, figuring you have nothing left to lose with his breath now hot on your cheek. “I want you to keep touching me.”

“Good,” he smirks as if that’s all he’s been waiting for, nodding his head toward the space behind you. “Now get on the mat, flat on your back.”

Like one of his new recruits you follow his orders blindly, surrendering to this inevitable seduction as you cautiously lay down at his feet.

“Now, I know you’re allergic to accepting help from anyone else, but you’re holding back when you stretch, you know that?” He wastes no time in taking your foot into his hand before pushing your leg up toward you, straightening it out just enough to make you wince. “That’s why you’re still groaning every time you stand up.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” you laugh, trying to ignore his pelvis as it presses against you, stretching your inner thigh out even more than you were capable of doing by yourself. You groan again as he pushes your body to its limit, his palm snug against your calf as he extends it up to the level of your head, pinning your opposite thigh in place with his hip. You hiss as a sharp pain quickly follows, shooting its way up the synapses of your largest muscle as he continues to splay you apart.

“Miguel,” you stifle a whimper as he grins, a glint of his fangs showing as that pain burns its way through the rest of that muscle group.

“Oh, it’s gonna hurt before it feels better, mami,” he goads, stretching you out even further as his pelvis grinds against yours, the evidence of his arousal more than damning.

“I know, I just…” You pause as the expression on his chiseled features changes from playful to knowing, his endlessly dark eyes glancing down at your junction before looking back up at your face.

“You’re soaking wet.” He keeps his hand on your leg while snaking the other between you two, testing the polyester layer of your shorts for the moisture that you both know is there.

Words fail as your jaw falls open in disbelief, that smug look on his face interrupted only by a strand of hair falling in front of his eyes as he touches you.

“I know you’ve been trying to hide it for as long as you can, mami.” He rubs your swollen lips up and down over the cloth, forcing that all encompassing heat to burn like molten hot lava deep inside your core. “But I can smell it on you the second you walk into a room; the change in your hormones, the sweetness of your sweat, and even this.”

You moan pathetically as he pulls your shorts to the side, sliding his fingers beneath them to collect your juices and spread them up and down your length. “No panties either, huh? Turns out I was right about you.”

“Jesus, Miguel,” you plead, grasping onto his forearm just to make sure that he stays close enough to keep kindling your flame.

“Your body’s never gonna lie to me about what it wants.” He leans down and pushes his fingers inside of you, grinning against your ear as you nod helplessly in agreement. “No matter how hard you fucking try.”

He presses his thumb against your clit while kissing his way down your neck, shoulder and knee as he continues to hold your leg in its prolonged stretch. His hungry lips leave a delicious trail down the bottom of your thigh that grows more sensitive as he thrusts his fingers in and out of your burning desire with such delicate ease only he could bring forth.

“There’s no way you’re gonna relax enough for this stretch to work,” he teases. “Not like this, anyways.”

He kisses the skin around your hips, releasing his grip on your leg just enough to let it fall onto his shoulder as he lowers himself down your body. “Now, if only there was a way I could get you to relax...” He looks up at you with nearly blackened eyes, reminding you of that onyx slick as it mixes with the sparks and embers his fingers send into your core before he licks a stripe up your dripping wet center.

Without another word, he parts your folds with his nose before tasting your inner layer, savoring the mere taste of your scent as he rubs his face all over it like a warrior with his paint. He allows himself to get lost in your unique flavor, marking himself with your sex as he all but forgets to hold onto your thigh as his tongue traces over every inch of your lower lips. His mouth encompasses you entirely as his fingers continue to work inside you, pumping spark after spark of pleasure up into the molten core of your body before drenching your swollen bud in his sensual spit.

You find yourself running your fingers through his auburn locks as he takes your clit between his teeth, licking and sucking on it with eyes fixated only on you as your hips rock in tandem with the rhythm of his wrist. His fingers pound deep inside you as he hums against your bud, brushing against that bundle of nerves until that flame inside you finally bursts into an eruption of ecstasy you’d never even thought possible. Every nerve in your body ignites in a series of blissful explosions, catching fire the more he devours your raw flesh until you’re crying out and violently shaking beneath him, completely combusted.

That pain in your thigh seems to disappear entirely as a healing wave of warmth coats your skin and muscles, vibrating in your bones as he moans his approval into your well spent sex with one last lick.

“I think that oughta do it.”

[gtgbabie0]

A cold heart

{After distancing yourself from Cregan the truth finally comes out}

Hope you enjoy as always lovelies! 💕

CW// reader is pregnant

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Cregan grew up in the North, he became acclimatised to the cold weather as he grew, but yet he’s never felt so cold then he does right now in your shared bedchambers, despite the warmth of the fire. It’s a type of feeling that completely renders him numb. An aching feeling that sits heavy against his chest, it’s almost as if he can’t breathe.

He watches you climb into bed slipping underneath the many furs. His heart freezes as the realisation slowly sets in, he’s in for another night of silence, and like every other night for the past few weeks you’ll sleep as far away as possible, shrugging off his touch.

It's not that you didn't want him to touch you, quite the opposite actually. You just couldn't risk his wandering hands grazing against your tiny bump, you wouldn't let him find out, not that way.

He doesn’t think he can go another night of isolation. So he reaches out to you in hopes you’ll reopen your caged heart to him once again, just as you did all those moons ago when he confessed his feelings to you.

“Love, will you please tell me what’s bothering you? I can’t stand this silence” he says, a gentle hand against your shoulder and he winces when he feels you go rigid under his palm.

He retreats his hand not wanting to be the cause of your discomfort. You don’t look at him, far too afraid of the pain that will stain his face.

It’s not that you don’t want to tell him, in all honesty, you so desperately wanted to share the news, but you’ve heard so my awful stories from other ladies about their husbands seeking pleasure through other means, how they are completely abandoned by them simply because they were ��undesirable’ it hurt to hear. You couldn’t imagine going through that.

So maybe that’s why you push Cregan away, because if you do it first it’ll hurt less when does inevitably happen.

“Nothing is wrong Cregan, I’m tired,” you say, wrapping your arms around yourself in search of comfort.

He likes to think that he is a calm man, never quick to anger but right now in this moment, anger is quick to warm his heart.

“Do not lie to me” he says, tone firm. You have only ever heard that when some lord made the mistake of insulting you in front of him, you remember thinking how you never wanted to be on the receiving end of that, yet here you are.

You sigh, biting back the tears that sting the back of your throat. “I just want to sleep Cregan” you whisper and he doesn’t miss the way your voice quivers.

You hear him let out a deep breath, then the bed shifts and he’s getting ready. The sudden change in the atmosphere makes you sit up, bringing the furs up with you, protecting yourself from the bitter cold.

“Where are you going?” You ask, watching as he laces up his boots, his eyes flicker to yours for a moment but they don’t linger long.

“I have work to do. Don’t wait up for me” he tells you and before you even have time to try and even think of what to say he’s gone.

You don’t bother stopping the tears that fall so effortlessly from your eyes. A regretful sob broke through your lips as you feel yourself engulfed by unwavering guilt, the type that pinches at your heart leaving bruises in its wake.

You can’t find solace in sleep, not without Cregan beside you. So you wait, and wait a book in your lap but you pay it no mind as your eyes stay fixed on the door.

You questioned whether or not he had already found another woman. Filthy thoughts tainting your mind, and you know it’s silly. Cregan would never break your trust or heart like that, never.

The hours seem to drag, and you contemplate if you should go out and find him yourself to say your sorries and give him a well-earned explanation, but the Maesters told you rest is the best thing for the babe.

Then the heavy wooden door opens, and there he is. “I told you not to wait up,” he says, and you watch him intently as he takes off his furs and leather.

You want to speak but you haven’t the slightest idea of where to even begin, there are so many words that rattle around in your brain but none of them seem good enough.

He looks over at you, and if it weren’t for the anger that still tingles his skin he would’ve felt sorry for the way you seemed to go in on yourself.

“Have I done something? Offended you somehow?— hurt you?” He wonders, wincing at the way his voice trembles, and the sound brings tears to your eyes.

You shake your head, trying to string a sentence together but the only thing that comes out is a pitiful sob. Emotions collide in your chest.

“Then what is it y/n? Why are you treating me as if I’m a stranger?” He asks, sitting at the end of the bed.

You study the scars that litter his chest, the one that travels across his ribcage that you love to you trace with gentle fingers, and you yearn to be held by him once again.

“I’m so sorry,” you tell him, your hand splayed against your collarbones. You can’t stop the cries that escape you. You shuffle down to where he’s sitting, a careful hand against his shoulder. “I’m sorry Cregan- I can explain” you gasp.

His slightly calloused hand soothes the expanse of your back, he hates seeing you so upset. The painful expression that paints your face, how your eyebrows furrow together. He promised himself that he’d do anything in his power to prevent this.

He wants to be mad, but he can't not when your shoulders shake as you try to stifle your cries behind a shaky hand.

“Love, breathe,” he says, taking your hand in his as he guides you through deep breaths. He’s always been so good at that.

He brings your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently and you sigh at the feeling of his beard against your skin.

“Cregan, I-” you look up at him as he urges you to continue, worry laced through his eyes, “I am with child” you whisper, your eyes flickering down to where your hands lay against his lap entwined with his own.

“The ladies have said- told stories of how their bodies change, how they no longer look the same as before- their husbands, they-” you sob, not being able to finish the sentence, a desperate need to get him to understand. And he does, he knows what you’re trying to say, and it hurts him beyond words that you would ever even consider the possibility.

His hands gently cup your tearful face, and he gives you the most endearing look he could muster. “My precious wife” he starts, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “You are the light of my life, my heart is yours entirely,” he tells you, a sense of relief washing over him as you fling yourself into his arms.

It was silly of you to doubt his love, especially for you. “I know- I’m sorry,” you tell him, kissing his shoulder.

“How long have you known?” He asks, his hands grasping at your hips.

“I had a suspicion for a while” you confess, bringing his hands to your belly. You let out a breathy giggle at the way his eyes light up with excitement as his hand soothe the expanse of your stomach.

He presses a gentle kiss to your lips before wiping away the stray tears that fall from your lashes, “A pup of our own eh?” He says, a teasing look flashing through his eyes as he urges you to lay against the pillows.

His hand dips underneath your nightdress grazing along your thigh travelling to rest at the curve of your stomach, your bump was barely there but yet he knows the difference. He smiles at you softly, enjoying the way your breath hitches at his touch.

“I promise I’ll take such good care of you, and our little one” he says, love bleeding into his tone as he peppers your neck with kisses. Your fingers thread through his hair as you urge him closer to you, you had missed him more than you thought.

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[gremlingottoosilly]

That Unwanted Animal [COD Fantasy AU] CursedKnight!Ghost x fem!Reader

Ghost was cursed ever since his king helped him get back to life from his grave. A stench of death, strong and inescapable, renders him unable to find a woman who will be willing to bed him. What will happen when he finally finds a perfect mate? CW and Tags: Dub-con, power imbalance, Medieval Fantasy AU, knight!Ghost, servant!Reader, sex work, brothels, dub-con kissing and touching, obsessive Ghost, dark Ghost, basically Ghost finds a girl and forces her to be his, Ghost is a half-dead resurrected knight, soft reader, submissive Reader.

AO3 Word Count: 2426 Ch.1

The Knight is a weird one. 

He is looking at you – studying you with his eyes, ever prying, even seeing. He never blinks and you think he doesn’t need it – a walking corpse wouldn’t care to keep his eyes wet, to let his head down and take a few deep breaths to relieve himself. Then, again, a real walking corpse wouldn’t need a maiden to claim and take, a warm body to bring relief to his manhood. You wouldn’t be so sure that he is a walking corpse, a resurrected warrior – the legends are often false, after all, and wild guesses of prostitutes are not to be trusted. 

Not like you would know either way – the only path to reveal his not-death is to smell the rot from his skin and, well, it’s out of your reach. The sickness of a few years ago rendered you completely unable to smell anything – you aren’t sure if it’s a blessing in disguise now. Ghost – his name, you think, you heard, the whispers and gossip from the girls who worked alongside you – have been watching you sleep the whole night after he claimed you for the first time. You know because, well, you were watching him too, unable to fall asleep. Not with the gaze that made your blood freeze in your veins. Not with the knowledge that this man can just suck the life out of you, like he did with many of his enemies. You don’t know about this fact, of course – but you don’t want to come and try if the gossips are true. You feel sore, down there. It should be normal for a woman who works in a place like this – but you weren’t a prostitute. Never got interest from men who will pay a lot for a night with a beautiful woman, you were content with simply serving the patrons and the highest bidding girls. Turns out, the sex is…weird. Wet. Painful, but not quite. The Knight was generous in his offers, even as you tried to convince him you didn’t deserve any of it. That you were here just to serve tea, not to… “Lay still, luv. Do you not know what to do?” He pushed a pillow under your hips, making your back arch like a cat in heat. You were presented to him – involuntarily, with his large hands crowding your waist and putting you right where he wanted. Your legs spread and your womanhood glossy from arousal – you knew your fair share of what it comes when a man and a woman share the bed, but you never managed to get into it. To get a man to put something in you, that it. You felt foolish ever coming to the room he rented all for himself. For not running away the second you were put here like a lamb to the slaughter. “I’m not a c…courtesan, kind sir, this is all a…” He pushed his mouth on yours – his mask lifted just barely to let you see the light stubble and scars on his broad, chiseled jaw – before you even managed to finish. His tongue went all out, licking and sucking, making you whimper in the kiss that wasn’t your first, but surely took the crown of being the most memorable one. Surely, cursed knights had no idea about common courtesy. “Good. Wouldn’t hear jabs from Johnny then.” You don’t know who that was but, for some reason, you felt like a dog suddenly brushed against your hand. Perhaps, the lack of air from the steamy kisses made you delirious” But, it was before. Now, with his head propped on one of his hands as he was lying on his side, observing you quietly, like a predator in hiding. His other hand is caressing your shoulder, sometimes going further to play with your hair – surely, he didn’t care for the possibility of waking you up. Maybe, he knows you aren’t sleeping. Maybe, he got his fill and would let you go now. — You need to sleep. The road to my estate is a long one. You drop your act immediately, knowing it is pointless. Perhaps, you should have tried to be an actor instead of a brothel servant – would give you much more useful skills. — Your estate..? Maybe, he was so impressed with your tea-making skills, that he would invite you to be his maid. You may have lost your virtue, but it’s not like you’re interested in marriage anyway. You can live a quiet life, not dealing with anything too harsh, while receiving a nice salary working for the knight. Honorable job, stable job. Something that you should strive for. — You aren’t a courtesan. It sounded like a statement – and besides, you were telling him this before. There is no way he could have mistaken your common, grey clothing with rich gowns that expensive courtesans are wearing. Your manners are off too – the man would have to be blind, deaf and stupid to think that they would send you to him as a girl for entertainment, not servitude. — I’m not, sir. 

— Do you have family? 

— Do you? He laughs at your unexpected bravery. You close your eyes, expecting something – a kick in the face, perhaps, as many nobles love to do with servants who aren’t polite enough. Maybe, you wait for him to denounce you and finally leave you alone. Maybe, you wait for everything to just be a dream, a beautiful one with steamy scenes straight up from the romantic novels you sneaked out to read. But Ghost is as real as a bed you are sitting on. His hands are on your face, but not in a way you’d come to expect from a man of his position. He is caressing your skin, playing with hair that fell out on your cheeks – and you swear you can see his eyes crinkle with a smile when you struggle to maintain eye contact, your head suddenly feeling heavy and sleepy. Perhaps, the night activities did wear you off. Not enough to make you lower your guars though. — Yes, luv. You’re going to be a part of it. He sounds…sad. Broken, almost. You try to remember all of the rumors you heard about the undead knight, but the only thing you’re capable of thinking about is his resurrection – surely, it would mean he doesn’t have a living family anymore, right? For some bizarre, incredibly weird reason, you reach out for his hand. Not with your palm, too exhausted to actually lift it – but with your face, tilting your head to the side as you press your forehead against his hand in a cat-like manner. His fingers get lost in playing with your hair immediately, and you fight the desire to purr. What a weird sequence of events he brought upon you. He pats your head for a few minutes, allowing you two to sit in silence. You quite like it. — You can’t marry a commoner. 

— This isn’t a position for your opinion, doll. — But the madam… — Your madam can push your debt up her snobby arse. I would be bloody glad to end this whole place in a fire. You laugh involuntarily. Surely, he means it – just one look at his eyes reveals a man deeply wounded by the fact, that not even the amount of money he has or the status he holds as the greatest knight of the kingdom will but him affection. Some things cannot be done even for money – and not a single woman in the brothel would lower herself to sleeping with a walking corpse, resurrected by the most evil power in the continent. It’s a good thing you can’t sense the stench of death – and to you, Ghost is just a man. A man with big hands, cold body, and little crinkles in his eyes when he looks at you, so weak and whimpering. A man with money and power, who can get you away from this place. Surely, changing one cage for the other won’t make much of a difference – but you can trade freedom for comfort, especially when the alternative neither brings your freedom nor comfort. There isn’t a single woman who would change her place with you. You find solace in that. 

— You can’t just take me away. All of my life is here. — Bloody shitty life you got ‘ere. You will be better off with me. 

— As your conqubine? 

— As my wife. 

Oh. You can’t exactly argue with this proposal. *** He rides you on his horse for the whole day – and it isn’t at all romantic as you thought it would be based on the books. No one has ever written just how smelly horses are – how scary of a creature riders are mounting, and how hard it is to sit on your ass for a whole day. For some reason, you were expecting a carriage – but a lone knight wouldn’t be traveling with an escort, you think. No matter how much of an influence he has over this country. 

You were thinking about running away for a few times – when he was making stops to let the horse rest and would slip you on the ground, allowing your agonizing limbs to stretch out a bit. You could escape easily when he got distracted with something – but then you thought about forests, bandits, and the trajectory that your life has taken. You may not like being a pried possession of a dead man, but he by far isn’t the cruelest one out here. Many other patrons of the whore house are much, much worse. 

He slips you on his lap when you finally get to a place where you can eat and sleep in peace – his mansion is as big as they come, you think, but the desire to explore is cut short by his hands on your hips. Reminding you of your place like you didn’t already get it the first time. You stir in your place, uncomfortable when he is pushing you down on his throbbing erection – how this could even ride a horse if the only thing on his mind was your soft body pressed against his, your helpless form clinging to him like he was the only protector here. 

Ghost is supposed to be on the good side – not an Empire soldier, at the very least, he isn’t taking crying innocent trophies from the battlefield and throwing them in his harem. He doesn’t even have a bloody harem, all the women – and men alike – disgusted by the stench of death he cannot wash away no matter the hours he spends in the bath. But you, pretty maiden waiting for him at this brothel of yours, aren’t like others. Maybe it’s a blessing – maybe the gods finally answered all of his threats and sent him the prettiest angel they had. 

No matter, he is still going to make sure to use you properly. Slowly, Ghost picks up food and feeds you – and if he can judge, you aren’t exactly enjoying the feeling of his fingers in your mouth. Probing, touching – you whimper when he pushes a piece of fruit past your lips. Poor thing, he thinks – you need to learn how to treat him with respect. With love, even more, as he wants for you to like him no matter how hard it could be for a dumb little you. — You shouldn’t feed me like this, sir. You’re so polite, so king – the first time a maiden was king to someone like him. The first time a girl isn’t screaming in his hold, trashing, and crying as she feels his hands roaming up her body. Gods, you’re perfect – he can’t wait to introduce you, finally shutting Soap for good. Finally getting something good for himself, after all the years of pure shit. Just wait – he can make an honest woman out of you. Give you estate, money, give you his status and the treatment of a royalty. If Price would feel generous, you’d be a duchess in no time. And, oh he knows, Price will be generous. 

— Why not? 

Just one look at your open mouth, glossy from drool, at your trembling lips, made him harder than before. He was denied mortal pleasures for so long, he forgot how soft women are – how pretty they look while sitting on his lap. No woman would approach him after the damn Emperor decided to resurrect him – but you don’t have a choice on the matter. But you don’t behave like you want to run away, at least. He wants to think that you will like it here – not because he truly cares about your opinion, but because you’d become sweeter. — It would be a waste. I can’t taste much of anything. 

Ah. The lack of smell – he remembers. Poor girl, he thinks, not only did you spend your life serving the courtesans and patrons at the brothel, but you also did so without taking any pleasure in nice fragrances or tasty food. Such a miserable girl – tough luck that you ended up with him, where he physically cannot feel pity for you. 

— Hm. There is a downside to your affliction.

— Many people would consider the lack of smell itself a downside. — Not me. You’re perfect. No one has even told you you’re perfect. Not like this, at least. You see a jaded soldier sitting you on his lap, his hands are holding the fat of your hips and kneading it like dough, but his eyes are…warm. Not kind, not gentle, but with the level of obsession that you never thought you’d see in this day and age. You press your head against his chest in a pure instinct – not wanting to be too harsh on your new husband. Not even daring to act like a spoiled brat, even though you were never one to begin with. 

He is a lonely man, you know. Angry and cynical, killed more people than you ever known for your whole life – but it all seems so distant, so unreal now. The killings and the wars and resurrections are something from the children’s books. From dark romance novels that you were reading, not from reality. Reality is that you’re sitting on the lap of a man who took you from working in the worst place you could have. Reality is, that you’re sitting on the lap of a very sad, tortured man who might need something nice. Who might give you something nice in return. 

Hm. 

You might like the sound of that. 

[lebrookestore]

backburner | n.jm (teaser)

Pairing: Na Jaemin x reader

Themes: college! au, exes! au, the situationship vibes are STRONG, angst, fluff, exes to ???, reader is a serial overthinker.

Warnings: profanity, heavy ANGST, kissing, food, underage alcohol consumption and alcohol consumption in general, jaemin is lowkey an asshole, more to be added for the full fic.

Word count for teaser: 580 | Estimated word count: 12-15k

Summary: After three months of ignoring your presence entirely, Na Jaemin saunters right back into your life without so much as single warning, leaving you to once again pick up the pieces of your burning heart.

Notes from brooke: a late christmas present from me<3 i'm back to writing my college aus so i hope all of you will enjoy my pain (literally).

[send an ask to be added to the taglist!]

It was one in the morning when your phone rang.

A sigh left your chapped lips as you glanced down from the screen of your laptop to the device sitting by its side, your eyes burning at the too bright light emitting from your phone. The rest of your dorm was dark, having switched the lights off earlier at the request of your roommate, who had an early class the next day. 

Unfortunately for you, you had an assignment due the next day that you had, as usual, left for the last minute. Music played through your headphones as you tried to construct what you deemed a coherent enough essay to submit. 

Scrambling so you wouldn’t wake your roommate up, you pushed your headphones off and swiped the call icon across the screen of your phone, accepting it a second before you registered who the caller was. The contact glared at you as if it was mocking you for your carelessness and hastiness, causing you to bite down hard on the inside of your cheek.

Well. It was too late now.

Swallowing hard, you held your phone up to your ear and whispered. “Hello?”

“Hey.”

A breath you didn’t know you had been holding in escaped from your lips, having you shut your eyes and process his voice. It was funny, how just one inconsequential word from a single person could change your entire disposition.

“Jaemin? Are you okay?”

He hummed in response. “Yeah, I’m fine. I think I might be a little tipsy though.”

You could just imagine him right then, a glass being gripped loosely by his fingers, leaning against some wall as he spoke to you over the phone. The image was enough that you slipped out of your bed and pacing about your room as quietly as you could, restless.

“Oh. Um, don’t drink too much.”

He chuckled, a sound so familiar yet so distant to you. “I won’t, don’t worry.” 

Jaemin liked alcohol, you knew this much. He liked the way it would slowly hit his head and render him more easy going than he already was, causing that pretty smile of his to show more liberally. You were well versed with everything about him, from his walk to the way his eyes would express everything he was thinking, the slightly changes making themselves completely obvious for you,

The two of you had been so in tune with each other. Sometimes, you forgot how easy that made it for it all to fall apart.

“Okay.” You weren’t really sure where you were supposed to go with this conversation anymore. “Do you need something?”

“Not really.”

“Then….then why did you call me?” Bewilderment crept into your voice as clear as day. If you were in front of him right then, perhaps he would have teased you, tucking your hair behind your ear and muttering something about how cute you were. 

He stayed silent for a moment. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

You stopped your pacing, coming to a standstill as his words settled over you. In the silence of the night, you were almost too aware of the way your heart rate increased ever so slightly.

Yunjin was right. There was hardly ever a time where your best friend’s advice wasn’t spot on, but this time you found yourself wishing you had complied and actually blocked him like she had suggested you do. Maybe then you wouldn’t have found yourself in such a position. 

coming soon. | lebrookestore 2024

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Day 1 of TUI-Mas

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), unprotected p in v, breeding kink and lots of it, fingering, oral (f! receiving)

WC: 2k

Divider credit to @saradika

October 1998

Your head rests on Eddie’s thigh, cheek pressed against the cotton sweatpants serving as his pajamas. His fingertips dance along your shoulder in comforting circles, the other hand digging into a bag of peanut M&Ms and dropping several into his mouth at once. 

Harris is sleeping in bed, his little eyes having drifted closed halfway through his second bedtime story. You’d laughed softly, kissed his forehead, and closed the door as quietly as you could. 

On the TV screen, Phoebe Buffay prepares to give birth to triplets while Joey’s learned that his sympathy pains are actually kidney stones. 

The candy shell crunching ceases as Eddie speaks over the characters’ dialogue. “You ever think about that?” he asks, jerking his chin towards the monitor. 

“Having three babies at once?” You wrinkle your nose, tugging the fleece blanket up a bit higher. You adjust your position so you can see his chocolate-smudged lips. “Only in my nightmares.”

Eddie laughs, but his smile doesn’t quite reach his doe eyes. “N-No, just, like…having a baby?” His front teeth scrape his lower lip nervously while he awaits your response. 

You shrug. “Yeah, I mean, I definitely want to have kids with you. And I know Harris is dying for a sibling to play with,” you add teasingly, though your words are true. He’d come home from school last week claiming that his friend Joshua’s mommy was having another baby, lamenting that it wasn’t fair because Joshua already had a sister. “I can’t wait to add some more Munsons to our little family.”

“Okay, yeah,” Eddie nods, swallowing thickly. “So, um, what exactly are we waiting for?”

The question makes you sit up, pushing yourself with your palms, so you can look him in the eyes. “We’ve only been married for a few months…” you trail off, unsure what to say next, but it doesn’t matter because Eddie leans in and silences you with his lips on yours. Tiny, passionate kisses, his smile rendering him unable to draw them out longer. 

“I’m ready whenever you are,” he murmurs, nose gently bumping yours. Four fingers are tucked behind your ear, his thumb delicately grazing your cheek. “There’s no rush, ‘kay? No Baby Munsons until you’re totally on board.”

“What if I’m ready, too?” You kiss him, body buzzing with nerves just from having this conversation. An excited giggle slips out, and you drape your arms over his shoulder to straddle his waist. “What if I want to start trying?”

Eddie throws his head back and laughs; he swears he’s hit the jackpot with you. “Then I say…to hell with those pesky birth control pills.” He kisses you again, peppering them all over your face and neck. “C’mon, Sweetheart. Let’s make a baby.”

It’s a few weeks later when Eddie breezes through the apartment door after work, kicking off his Reeboks in the general direction of the hall closet. His weary expression shifts to a joyous one when he sees you walk out of the bedroom with a knowing grin on your face. 

“What’s that little smirk for, hmm?” he teases, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you towards him. An autumn chill sticks to his leather jacket; you shiver as the cold fabric brushes your bare arms. “And where’s the other troublemaker?”

“Harris is at Wayne’s for the night,” you tell him, stepping back slightly and briefly lacing your fingers with his before grabbing something from the back pocket of the jeans you immediately changed into after work. “This little line means that I’m currently ovulating,” you quickly explain, not wanting him to confuse it with another important test. 

Eddie’s grin could split his cheeks in half. “So…so that means…” his eyes shine bright with anticipation. “It’s baby-making time?”

You giggle at his phrasing. “Yes, Eddie,” you confirm through peals of laughter. “It’s baby-making time.”

Eddie’s lips crash onto yours in an instant. He groans into the kiss, hands instinctively grabbing your ass to pull you closer. Your own fingers grasp his jacket by the zipper teeth, tugging it off of his body and letting it fall to the floor unceremoniously. His hands snake underneath your sweater, eyes widening when he touches supple skin rather than the underwire of a bra.

“Mhm,” you bite your lower lip and nod, gasps of pleasure caught in your throat as his thumbs brush against your nipples, giving them a small tweak. He grins at your reaction, more than satisfied to be catching you off-guard. 

“Y’know,” he muses, not straying from your breasts, “I won’t be able to be so rough with ‘em once I knock you up. They’ll be extra sensitive, and I gotta take care of my girl.” The sweater is a hindrance, burying the treasure he so desperately desires, so you shed it without a second thought.

He stares at your bare torso for a moment, enthralled with your body even after all this time. Like a vampire lusting for blood, his teeth sink just below your areola, nipping and sucking sloppily until the underside of your breast is dripping with his saliva. “C’mere,” he growls, taking a breath and leading you into the bedroom.

You’ve never seen Eddie this hungry for you; his lips and tongue and hands trailing along your curves and leaving goosebumps in their path. It’s as though he can’t decide where to touch you and with what.

All articles of clothing–both yours and his–are long gone by the time your bodies tangle in the bedsheets. The only word you can manage is his name, so you whisper it over and over again. 

Eddie. Eddie. Eddie. 

His body towers over yours, middle finger gliding up and down your folds, gathering your slick and rubbing deliberate circles on your clit. Your trembling legs fuel his own passion, his erection flush against his tummy and leaking pre-cum. 

“You need me inside you, Sweetheart?” Eddie coos, letting his finger drift down towards your wanting hole. When you nod pathetically, unable to string together a sentence, he laughs. “I’d normally make you beg, but seeing as you’re gonna be carrying my baby, I’ll let it slide.” He lays down, hissing at the glorious pressure against his cock. “In fact, I’m gonna make sure my girl gets everything she needs tonight.”

Soft lips wrap around your swollen bud while his middle and ring fingers stretch you deliciously. You buck your hips, using his face to draw you towards what you suspect will be your first of multiple orgasms. 

The only sound lewder than your wanton moans is the schlick of his fingers pulsing in and out, soaked with your arousal. You let yourself float away, relishing in the comfort of his control. 

“F-Fuck, Eddie…” you sputter, arching your back and hooking your grasp into his curls. He smiles against your pussy as you clench around his fingers. 

“Thassit, honey.” He breaks his rhythm for a split second to encourage you, resuming his pace like he’d never stopped. Maybe it stems from his musical prowess, or maybe he simply knows your body that well. You love this man, and you swear you’ll do anything to give him a baby.

You come undone moments later, taking everything you need without hesitation. Eddie lowers you from the high and kisses down your thighs, your arousal smeared on his pursed lips.

“Need you to do me a favor,” he says, shifting his body so his eyes gaze directly into yours, pupils blown out with lust. “Need you to bend your legs and hold onto your knees. Can you do that for me, Sweetheart?”

You nod, bringing your knees to your chest and hugging them tight. Eddie’s breath hitches, taking in the view of you, glistening and on display just for him.

“Fuckin’...perfect…” he groans, running his hardened length along you, slowly pushing in. “Gettin’ to watch your pretty pussy cream my cock…shit…’s my favorite fuckin’ sight, I swear.” He grips your hips so tightly that it pinches a bit, pain indistinguishable from pleasure.

He’s entranced in a way you haven’t seen before, despite the multitude of times he’s already had you in this position. Your eyes fill with emotion when the realization hits: you and Eddie could make a baby right now. A little being that’s half-him and half-you. 

“‘S everything okay?” he asks, one hand moving from your waist to gently brush away a rogue tear slipping down your cheek.

“Mhm,” you answer, laughing and crying at the same time. “I’m just really happy that this is for real. No more pretending; we’re actually doing this to expand our family.”

Eddie swoops down to kiss you, a few soft pecks punctuated with a long, intimate embrace. “I love you so much.” He says it as a promise, not a simple statement. “You’re mine and I’m yours, and I never want you to forget that.” He resumes thrusting, pulling almost all the way out and leaving just the tip inside you, before sinking back in. The movement draws a whine from deep within you, and he wears it as a badge of honor. “That’s my girl, my sweet girl, gonna have my baby.”

Sweat trickles down the bridge of his nose and drips onto your chest between your breasts. He bites his lip in determination. “Shit, ‘m close already,” he mumbles, smiling as he adds, “kinda wish I didn’t have to cum so we could stay like this, but, uh, that would defeat the purpose, huh?”

Your eyes crinkle at the corners as you giggle, which only further spurs him on. “You get tighter when you laugh, fuck, babe.” But he’s laughing with you, stopping for a second to get his bearings. “I gotta stay focused! Trying to make a baby over here!” His palms flex on your knees before gripping them again.

“I’m sorry!” You’re not, and neither is he, the two of you soaking in the comfort of being with the person you trust completely and love wholeheartedly. 

“Okay, okay,” he says, wiping perspiration from his brows with the back of his hand. “Let’s get back on track.” His thrusts resume slowly as he once again grows harder within your walls, gradually quickening in pace. 

Everything is overwhelming; the way he feels inside you, the sweetly possessive hold he has on his legs, the unexpected comedic interlude, the potential to create a new life. Passion sweeps you up into its embrace and you come with a strained cry of your husband’s name. 

“Want your baby, Eddie. Please.”

Eddie’s brown eyes shine at your desperate plea. He nears his own climax, hair sticking to his forehead and his guitar pick necklace thumping against his chest. “‘M right there, Sweetheart; you’re milking my cock so good.” His biceps tremble as he gives a final few pistons of his hips, spilling into you harder than he ever has before. “Fuck, gonna give you a baby, take it.” 

You shiver when he growls the last two words, savoring the movements until they abruptly stop. With panting breaths, Eddie slides out of you. 

“Don’t move,” he gently commands, holding up one finger and using the other hand to hold his softening dick. He scrambles for a free pillow and tucks it underneath your hips. “Helps ‘em swim faster,” he sheepishly explains. “Or, like, hit their target a little better.”

“Hit their target?” You ask through a bemused grin. “Is that the proper medical terminology?”

Eddie rolls his eyes playfully, returning to the bed and nuzzling into you. His frizzy curls tickle your chin when he rests his head on top of one breast. You both lay in comfortable silence for a few minutes before he speaks again. 

“Can’t wait to see if it worked,” he muses while fighting a yawn. “Whatever happens, it felt special, y’know?”

You know. Your hand flutters over your abdomen; Eddie drapes his over yours soon after. The two of you fall asleep wrapped up in one another and an intoxicating blanket of hope. 

--

[icyminghao]

look at me

pairing: jeonghan x gn!reader genre: fluff, some angst(?), college!au warning(s): none word count: 1.2k

summary: you’ve been noticing that jeonghan never fails to maintain eye contact with everyone he converses with. everyone but you, that is.

In your past year of interacting with and being around a certain Yoon Jeonghan from Mass Communications, you’ve noticed that he loves eye contact.

He maintains intense eye contact in every conversation, one that would definitely render you speechless had you been the receiver of his undivided attention.

Which is why this whole… thing has increasingly become evidence of Yoon Jeonghan’s possible dislike towards you.

From what you’ve noticed, Jeonghan holds eye contact with everyone he’s speaking with, but not you.

You’ve tried asking his best friend, Jisoo, if he’d experienced something similar and whether it was normal, to which he’d just let out an awkward laugh and told you to “Go ask him yourself”, much to your dismay.

But then again, you’re probably overthinking. Right?

“What are you thinking about?”

As if on cue, Wonwoo shows up at just the right time to ground you before you start spiraling down a rabbit hole of self-doubt.

“You know what I’m thinking about,” you sigh, sending Wonwoo a tight-lipped smile.

“Jeonghan again, huh?” Wonwoo chuckles, eyes trailing after the man of the hour from across the bar, having the time of his life with his two best friends in tow. Beside you, Soonyoung nearly spits out his drink at whatever had just come out of Wonwoo’s mouth.

“Yoon Jeonghan? y/n, you like—”

“Soonie, no!” you lightly hit Soonyoung on his forearm, and he dramatically winces in pain like you’d just delivered a killing blow to his arm, “I just… think he doesn’t like me.”

“What? Why? He’s—”

“It’s stupid,” you cut Soonyoung off before he can complete his sentence. Soonyoung simply stares at you, and you sigh.

“Well, um, you know how he always maintains eye contact with whoever he’s speaking?” Soonyoung raises an inquisitive eyebrow, but nods anyway, prompting you to continue, “I’ve been realising recently that he just doesn’t seem to want to look at me every time we talk.”

An eerie silence engulfs the three of you, and you can almost hear the gears turning in Soonyoung’s head, making you all the more insecure.

“Let me get this straight,” Soonyoung speaks up after what feels like a long while, holding back laughter, “You think that loverboy over there doesn’t like you because he refuses to make eye contact with you?”

“I told you it was stupid!” you groan, resting your head on your hands, “Wonwoo, help me here!”

“Well, it is pretty stupid,” Wonwoo shrugs, patting your back in an attempt to comfort you.

“He doesn’t hate you, y/n,” Soonyoung pipes up, practically exploding from where he’s seated. “It’s quite the opposite, really-”

“What’s quite the opposite?” you remove your head from your hands to be greeted with the sight of Seungcheol coming up to stand in front of the three of you, Jeonghan and Jisoo in tow.

“Hyung! My man,” Soonyoung raises his voice in excitement, and you wince a little at the sheer volume as they both greet each other with a hug.

As usual, Jeonghan’s eyes are trained on anything but you, and you can’t help but notice that he’s being a little more fidgety than usual, bouncing on the balls of his feet and playing with his fingers all while Seungcheol and Soonyoung are quite literally acting like nobody else is around them watching their interaction.

“Anyway, we’re here because Jeonghan… has something to say to y/n,” Seungcheol turns to us and explains with a teasing lilt in his voice, and Jeonghan’s cheeks darken ever so slightly under the dim lighting of the club.

“He does? That’s literally such a coincidence, we were just talk—”

“Let’s go, Soonyoung, I just saw Jihoon over there,” Wonwoo cups a hand over Soonyoung’s mouth before he can complete his sentence, practically dragging him away from the conversation.

Seungcheol and Jisoo, too, bid their awkward goodbyes, each lightly punching Jeonghan on his shoulder before leaving the two of you behind. Alone.

For awhile, the two of you simply stand there in silence, and you can only hope and pray for the ground to swallow you whole.

“Um—”

“I have nothing to say to you.” Jeonghan cuts you off as you speak, and your eyes widen a little at his cold tone.

“Oh, I—” you shrink into yourself, willing yourself to stay calm.

“No! Wait, I meant—” Jeonghan leans forward, taking a deep breath, “Seungcheol and Jisoo put me up for this for no reason.”

“So it’s a joke?” you scoff, raising an incredulous eyebrow at Jeonghan as the embers of rage grow inside of you.

“No! I—” Jeonghan’s eyes widen, immediately shaking his head to refute before you cut him off.

“Do you hate me, Jeonghan?”

“What? No, I- I don’t hate you, y/n,” Jeonghan runs a hand through his hair, frustrated, “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know, you refuse to look at me every time we talk, and now you’re- you’re doing this and making me confused and- I don’t know what to think, Jeonghan.” you bite back, growing more and more annoyed by the second

“Look, I-” Jeonghan pauses, seemingly trying to gather the right words, “I don’t hate you, y/n. I could never.”

You open your mouth to reply, but Jeonghan holds a hand up, continuing, “I’m just— I usually know what to do, okay? Usually, it’d be the other way around, and you’d be the one as flustered as I am right now, but you’re- you’re different. I’ve… had a crush on you ever since we met through Wonwoo and I just… couldn’t hold a conversation with you long enough without chickening out and just ended up trying as much as possible not to interact with or look at you so I don’t make a fool of myself and I guess… you saw it as me hating you and no, that’s not true, it’s far from it even, I—”

Jeonghan is cut off as you lean forward to press the tiniest of kisses on his lips to shut him up, and his eyes widen in response.

“I like you too, Jeonghan,” you flash him the softest of smiles, and he just looks right back at you blankly, still trying to process what had just happened, much to your endearment.

“You… do?” you nod. “But… I was so horrible to you.”

“You didn’t mean it, did you?” you reply, and Jeonghan shakes his head immediately. “I didn’t, but—”

“Well, then, you could make up for it by taking me on a date,” you cut him off, surprising both him and yourself at your boldness. Jeonghan flashes the cutest shade of red, before nodding determinedly.

“We should get back to the boys,” wrapping your arms around Jeonghan, you start leading him towards where the boys have gathered from across the club, filled with newfound hope for your blossoming relationship with Jeonghan, “They haven’t stopped looking at us since they left.”

BONUS:

“And then he told me to— Hannie, why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” Jeonghan simply chuckles from beside you as you pause your rambling, furrowing your brows at him.

“You’re staring. What happened to refusing to look at me, hm?” you lean towards him, taunting.

“Well, that made you think I hated you, so I’ve gotta ramp up the eye contact to make sure you know how much I love you, babe.” Jeonghan leans forward too, resting his forehead on yours.

“You’re so cheesy,” you lightly punch his chest, giggling.

“Only for you, babe.”

a/n: hi i’m back! i hope this was okay, i struggled with jeonghan’s characterisation but i thought a flustered him would be cute ><

taglist: @xomingyu @pepperonidk @belladaises @tastymintchocolate @dahliatopia @kwantaro @chanceonceli

masterlist

[trainsinanime]

Perfection

It’s been months and I still think we’re not talking enough about Cloud Kagami in Perfection. I think Cloud Kagami is one of the most haunting, most beautiful but also sad akumas in the show. Most people will probably point to Chat Blanc as the winner in that category, and fair’s fair, you can’t argue with that body count. But for me, Cloud Kagami wins because she’s less literal, more metaphorical.

Kagami is depressed and lonely in this episode. She feels isolated, like she doesn’t fit in. And so her akuma persona doesn’t do anything offensive - she just physically doesn’t fit in. Her mental image of herself is too large, too weird, but also hollow, without substance. Not even that something was stolen from her; she feels like maybe she was never real at all.

The whole thing comes with a perspective shift for her. She’s too tall to see the small stuff, and she’s can’t even see the people anymore. Paris for her is just streets and buildings, a view like from a map. She is no longer able to see it as a place made up of people.

Swifties will of course recognise that this is exactly the same feeling and imagery as in the song Antihero:

Sometimes I feel like everybody is a sexy baby And I’m a monster on the hill Too big to hang out, slowly lurching toward your favorite city Pierced through the heart, but never killed

And it comes to a head when Kagami says that she might just fade away, and that it would be better that way. This is the only episode where the danger is not the akuma doing something bad, but the akuma dying. That’s really harsh.

On the flip side, it’s so important that Kagami doesn’t shrink down or becomes invisible. She is here, and we and the characters see and share in her pain. Our heroes know what’s going on and are worried about her. When Kagami says nobody would miss her, would notice when she’s gone, she’s categorically wrong. She is actually this huge presence, literally, in the city. She just can’t see and comprehend it, because her depression makes it impossible for her to recognise how much the people around her care.

I think this story is really harrowing, but I also love how beautifully they wrote and rendered it. This is really a stealth greatest episode of the show.

[inoreuct]

thinking about zoro being the crew's main protector.

it’s quite literally his role amongst the straw hats; luffy's captain, usopp's their sniper, sanji cooks, nami navigates, chopper's their doctor, franky's their shipwright, jinbei's their helmsman and brook's their musician but zoro? zoro's their swordsman. zoro’s their guardian. his job is to be the first line of defense and protect everybody else so they can focus on doing their own thing and sure, none of them really need protecting— but they don't have to worry about defending themselves, either, because whoever they can't or don't want to handle zoro will finish up (if he hasn't gotten to them first).

like imagine a bunch of idiots cornering one of the crew (bad idea.) and picking nami because she's the woman without a devil fruit, as opposed to robin (BAD idea.). they've got her surrounded in the dead end of an alleyway and have somehow neutralised her clima-tact and she’s not worried, she’s not.

but against twelve men and with her weapon essentially now just a regular staff, she might be panicking. just a little. she’s gotten a couple of them good enough that they’re down for the count before a chain wrapped around her ankle trips her. it pulls at enough memories, faded but never forgotten, to bring up a sickening wave of fear and anger— and nami decides that she’s had enough of the bullshit.

she takes a deep breath and screams. “ZORO!”

the silence afterwards is deafening. the wind shifts, gently lifting the pieces of hair stuck to her sweaty face, and the men laugh uneasily. one of them yanks hard on the chain and she spits at him, heels scrabbling against the dusty ground even as he starts reeling her in like a fish on a hook. “he can’t hear you, little missy,” he snickers, grin widening the longer nobody shows up.

it’s still on his face when his head slides right off his neck.

blood sprays right before his body crumples like a doll. it takes a second for the others to realise and then the screaming starts— none of them get any farther than three steps before zoro’s cutting them down, swift swings of his sword and almost surgically precise slices rendering them incapacitated if not plain dead.

“sorry i’m late, witch.” the swordsman’s breathing hard, gore dripping off his blades even as he arcs one down and snaps the chain off nami’s leg with a growl. “did they hurt you?”

“no. no, i’m fine,” nami breathes, her smile quivering just a little— not because she’s shaken, no. because she’s pissed.

zoro’s voice is gruff as always, but his hands are careful if not outright gentle as he kneels to inspect her ankle before pulling her to her feet. “stay close,” he mutters, making sure that she’s nodded before cutting them a path through the fray. they bump into chopper next, and the doctor’s out cold over zoro’s shoulder in his regular form by the time sanji joins them to guard their flank. nami’s taken to just using her clima-tact as a bat for now, and it’s admittedly efficient.

she knew zoro would come. he always does. for all that they bicker and snip at each other, zoro has always protected his crew— even when said crew was just three people on what could barely be called a boat. he’d fought for her at arlong park and he fights for her now, his sword slicing over her head at an enemy she can’t see as she ducks low to jam her staff into another’s stomach.

they’ve moved closer to their ship when they find jinbei, then robin, then usopp, then brook and franky, and then zoro’s yelling luff, time to go! and their captain’s launching them all back onto the Sunny with a gleeful cackle that makes nami wheeze a laugh as they land in a mildly painful pile of limbs. somebody’s elbow digs into her ribs and she’s pretty sure that’s sanji’s bony kneecap pressed into her lower back. the swordsman swears as he sets about trying to pry them all apart and luffy seems to be actively fighting him, based on how his cursing’s getting more and more colourful.

behind them, their enemies burn, sliced to pieces. they debrief in the galley and zoro refuses to come away from the door until nami drags him by the ear and sanji threatens to personally shove dessert down his throat. they both know it’s because zoro’s still guarding them from a threat that doesn’t exist anymore.

they know he pretends not to care as much as he does. they know he keeps his words blunt and his swords sharp, but zoro lets luffy hang off him, unfazed, and makes a marginal effort to stick to nami’s budget even when he’s getting booze, and he eats his dessert. every last bit. he lets usopp fire moving targets to slice through so they can both practice. he keeps collateral damage when sparring with sanji to a minimum. he stitches whoever needs it up himself when chopper’s a little too tired.

and when his crew calls, he answers.

(now with a part from nami’s pov!)

[ashessonfire]

Hi, I just gotta say I really love your stories and how detailed and eloquent your writing is.How about a Kaz Brekker x reader angst where a heist gone wrong results to Kaz (temporarily) losing his memory and reverting back to old Kaz, who is not in a relationship with reader, and he keeps pushing the reader away 'til reader gives up 'cause of something Kaz said or a scenario where they think Kaz is better without them♡♡♡thank you for listening HAHAHAHA

'Forgotten' - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Prompt - Kaz Brekker's plans rarely fail, but what happens when a heist goes incredibly wrong, and the Bastard of the Barrel forgets you completely? - Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Reader (established relationship) - Warnings: Depictions of violence, gunshots, Kaz's trauma / memories, Kaz being an asshole but not really his fault??? ANGST ANGST ANGST Part two found here! A/N: Thank you all so much for the amount of support and love i am getting for my first few posts! I will definitely write a part two if you want it, its a massive cliffhanger but would be WAY too long to do it in one go. JUST PURE ANGST IM SORRY T-T

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Kaz’s plans often fell victim to unseen circumstances, however, small hinderances to his meticulously planned out schemes rarely affected the outcome. Yet even Kaz himself had to admit, that this plan had gone spectacularly wrong.

From incorrect blueprints for the building, to four times the number of armed guards than initially expected, all the group could do was try and escape relatively unharmed. The crows were splintered into six breathless individuals, winding their way through narrow streets to try and loosen their attackers’ grips. Sprays of bullets and the glints of knives rushed past each one of them, only narrowly missing their targets.

That was until Kaz felt a searing pain in his leg, a sudden slash just under the back of his knee, sending fire trailing throughout his body. He groaned deeply, internally damning the attacker for not only striking his target, but also managing to hit Kaz on his already bad leg. The pain from the wound caused it to buckle, giving him a clear path straight towards the glistening cobblestone of Ketterdam’s streets.

Before he could fully feel the impact, a hand tightly gripped the roots of his hair, pulling his face parallel to the grinning pursuer, evidently pleased with his achievement of apprehending the Bastard of the Barrel.

Before Kaz could use his cane to fight back, it was violently ripped from his grasp, another set of hands clutching his own behind his back, rendering him completely immobile. Suddenly, the knife was yanked out of his leg, earning a surprised growl from Kaz, his leg leaking onto the stone beneath him a deep ruby shade.

“Well, that wasn’t so hard, was it? I’m afraid to say I am more than a little underwhelmed, Dirtyhands,” The leader of the group sneered, earning a howl of laughter from his gang, who seemed to be forming from the shadows of the abandoned street, emerging in staggering numbers.

Despite his predicament, a thought flashed through his mind, calming his increasingly alarmed state. “Perhaps they abandoned the others in favour of catching me,” Kaz silently contemplated, feeling a light sense of relief at the possibility his crew would make it back to the slat alive.

Especially you.

However, the relief was knocked out of him as swiftly as it came, along with all the air in his chest.  A brutal kick sent him reeling backwards into the chest of the man behind, followed by a series of punches which Kaz was defenceless against. The assault continued, blood pouring into his eyes from an open wound on his forehead, blinding him to the onslaught of attacks that followed, as he rapidly tried blinking to wash away the crimson from his vision.

The ambush subsided, giving him enough time to throw his head back and remove some of the steadily flowing substance from his sight. Murmurs sounded around him, but Kaz couldn’t decipher what was being stated, the ringing from the punches obscuring the sound around him, leaving him underwater, drowning in his own blood.

Despite Kaz’s senses becoming increasingly obstructed, a flare of panic welled up within him, as he spotted something brassy glinting through the sheet of red, catching the light from the street lanterns surrounding them. The unknown object began its descent towards him, the glint becoming a beam which shone through the curtain of crimson, until it was just close enough for Kaz to make out the flash of a crow’s eye, and the curve of a beak.

“How ironic,” Kaz thought to himself, “Being killed by my own cane.”

The scarlet curtain closed on Kaz, the blow ending the performance the gang was putting on, leaving their victim in a world full of darkness, the feeling of the waves washing over him and pulling him deeper into the abyss.

The last thing he heard was the sound of a voice.

 Jordie’s?

The concern that radiated from the sound brought him back to memories of the farm, where Kaz would climb too far up a willow’s branches, and his brother would have to call him down. Or perhaps when they had arrived in Ketterdam and Kaz had thought it comedic to hide in a dimly lit street, blissfully unaware of the dangers that lurked in its gloom.

However, as Kaz slipped deeper into the ocean, the voice getting further away with each of his slowing heartbeats, a tinge of warmth hit his chest, signalling that this wasn’t Jordie.

 It was you.

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Your adrenaline had served you well, since shortly after you were separated from the crows, familiar edges of buildings and glints of neighboring signs entered your vision. Using this to your advantage, you utilized your familiarity of the area to hide, slipping into the shadows, melting into the gloom of Ketterdam's alleys. Soon, all five of your pursuers had bullets lodged in their throats unable to pinpoint where they were being shot from. Each fatal blow perfectly central just as Jesper had taught you.

Whilst your mind began to settle at the lack of immediate threat, something burred within your core pulled on your heartstrings, pointing your unsettling fear towards Kaz.

You had taken great care to note which routes the other crows had disappeared down, for insurance if they did not return to the slat within the agreed time. However, as you fled, your heart had plummeted at the sight of at least ten men chasing down your boyfriend.

Before your mind could register your actions, you were sprinting back in the direction you had come, weaving through the bodies littering your path. You quickly reached the alley Kaz had fled down, and you bolted through the streets you estimated Kaz would take.

As he was your boyfriend, you had become accustomed to imagining what he would do, or how he would act in certain situations, helping you decode his behaviour when he barricaded himself from you on troublesome days.

The sound of bone cracking and pained grunts pulled you away from your thoughts, turning a sharp corner just in time to see the head of Kaz’s precious cane colliding with his temple, the light visibly fading from his eyes due to the blow.

Rage swept through you, controlling your actions as your mind failed to synchronise with your body. Rushing forward, you shot wildly, achieving at least three separate screams from the men before you. Before the others were made fully aware of your presence, you had a serrated knife plunging into a further two, leaving fatal wounds which would slowly bring about their demise. Once every one of group were flooding the streets with their blood, your gaze shifted to Kaz.

Lying in a growing pool of blood, your boyfriend’s face was swollen, covered in deep gashes that littered his sharp features. The dim light from the lanterns overhead cast murky shadows over the wounds, highlighting the gruesome fate Kaz had endured. From somewhere far in the distance, you heard your voice screaming his name, begging for him to wake up, at some point you had even rushed over to him and began caressing his fractured face to wake him.

Allowing a deep inhale of Ketterdam’s air, you collected yourself, imagining that Kaz were conscious and scolding you for your slow reactions and the ‘weakness’ you were portraying. Laying your head against his frigid chest, you held your own breath, only releasing the growing tension when a faint heartbeat pounded against your ear.

Silently apologising for your next actions, you hooked both of Kaz’s arms underneath your own and used all your force to haul him back to the Slat.

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For several days following the attack, the group had come to a collective conclusion that their boss was severely concussed, so much so that he was barely conscious for more than a few minutes at a time.

Throughout the harrowing days, you never left his side, constantly aiding his body in a frail attempt to bring him back to the conscious realm, and to you.

The crows stopped by often to assist you, compelled to keep at least one half of the pair in a decent condition, Nina bringing hot food, Inej wiping down your face with a warm cloth, and Jesper or Wylan keeping you company for an hour or so, brightening the mood wit =h jokes or stories.

Time seemed almost to cease its movements, with even the smallest of things, like the rain rolling down the frosted glass in Kaz’s room, or the flickering of the candles illuminating the slat, appearing sluggish to you.

That was, only until Kaz woke up.

A bout of coughs awoke you from a light sleep, sending alarm bells ringing through your head, echoing off the walls and overwhelming you. Upon seeing the straining eyes blinking against the intensity of the candlelight, the roar swiftly subsided.

“Kaz,” you breathed out, barely audible to both you and him.

You gently reached out to feel the heat from his forehead, an action not dissimilar to the gentle brushes of his locks you would often settle on when he was too engrossed in scheming to provide you attention. However, your movements were stopped dead in their tracks when a voice sliced through the air.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Kaz seethed.

Although his voice was hoarse from his absence over the last few days, a clear threat laid deeply within his sentence, piercing your chest with a thousand knives. “Kaz, I’m just checking your temperature, my love,” you offered gently, praying to the Saints that whatever malice behind your partners eyes was due to his condition, and not a genuine fury.

Instead of removing the knives from your heart, he twisted them painfully, glaring directly at you as he warned lowly, “I am not sure how long I have been out for, but I severely doubt it would be enough time for a word like ‘love’ to be directed towards me. Especially by the likes of you. Go and get Nina, you are of no use to me.”

Your breath hitched painfully in your throat, blocking the air trying to travel both in and out, glittering eyes locked directly with his as your mind struggled to process the disgust that laced his voice. Your body battled as it tried to force another ‘Kaz’ out into the world, but he intruded before the sound escaped.

“Leave now, or I will dismiss you for insubordination. Go,” Kaz stated, bitterness being the only discernible emotion portraying through his words, his chest filling with an emotion so strong he couldn’t name it, deciding to settle on disgust. Your eyes welled up, clouding your vision as you cautiously left the room, shock coursing through your body and stiffening your every movement, causing shivers to wrack your body as your blood froze to ice.

Your mind seemed to leave your body, taking little note of going to Nina and sending her up to Kaz, or the other crows fawning over your broken state, clearly panicking further when your only form of response was a stiff silence. It seemed safer to hide behind glossy eyes and blank looks, than to decipher what had caused Kaz’s reaction.

It was only an hour later when Nina came downstairs, shaking you out of your daze with words that did a far more agonizing job than Kaz’s knives would.

She downright shot you point blank in the heart.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, it seems like the blow has affected his memory. I can’t tell the severity yet, but it seems that he has no recollection of you two as, well you know. ‘You two,’” Nina bit out, voice cracking as her heart shattered for you, who now stood shaking before the group, the slightest breeze threatening to barrel you over.

You dismissed them with a fractured smile, barring yourself within the confines of your room, knives drawing blood within your heart, twisting excruciatingly each time a shuffle or a creak would sound from the room above yours.

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Your perseverance impressed not only the rest of the crows, but yourself too. You didn’t allow yourself to wallow in your self-pity for long, determined to regain Kaz’s memory despite his protests and frustration with you. You had already molded a loving relationship with the deadliest man in Ketterdam, you figured that you would be able to withstand doing it once more.

Enduring the blade-like words was the simplest part, however it was the emotion behind them that faltered you each time you were faced with him. He always his behind a face of insults or harsh syllables, but you had decoded their meanings long ago, the sentiment behind each radiating through in a way in which only you could detect.

As he recovered, you remained vigilant to his every need, bringing him herbal tea infused with medicine or offering fresh bandages to change when the blood seeped through the last.

Each encounter ended with tears streaming drearily down your face, matching the raindrops that hit against the pains of the slat, each impact slamming against your heart. As you persisted, the feeling Kaz felt towards you grew, the emotion intensifying with each glimpse at you.

He couldn't stand it.

Rage bubbled within him at your attempts at kindness, the insults increasing in harshness and malice each time you dared to provoke him.

Yet you bounced back, offering him delicate smiles, compassionate gestures, and kind words. However Kaz couldn't bear it any longer, the weight in his chest obscuring his breathing and brooding for too long, consuming him from the inside out.

Despite his unbroken hatred that radiated towards you, he seemed to gradually be regaining his memories, allowing Jesper's jokes or Nina's teasing to go as far as they would before the accident. It caused you great anguish, and shamefully jealousy, at his return to every one of his crows.

But you.

The door to his office was given a light few taps, before Kaz permitted you entry, knowing from the weight of the knocks it had to be you. Although the others seemed far more wary of him than usual, there was something almost gentle about how you acted towards him, making it easier for Kaz to single you out from the rest.

You entered with a stack of papers, a vast collection of work that had accumulated whilst he regained his health. Biting back his usual snarky insults and remarks dripping in poison, Kaz watched you intently, deadly intentions practically radiating from his gaze.

Setting down the pile, you stepped back silently, too exhausted to bear the weight of another one of his lashings, each word cutting you and leaving you bleed out, not dissimilarly to how you found him that night.

The silence in his office was impenetrable, the air becoming impossible to breath through the tension that radiated between you, with only one of you being able to decipher what it truly was. Your mind was so focused on the intake of air, you almost missed the hand that extended towards you, the closest he had allowed you since his memory had stolen you from him.

Clutched in his grasp was a simple white letter, signatures coating the outside of the envelope, and something folded, protruding from within the packet itself.

The silence became deafening, the pounding of your heart like a bird trapped in a cage infinitely too small for its prisoner, crashing into the walls in an attempt to escape. As your hand made contact with the offering, Kaz spoke in a tone you had never heard before.

He simply stated, "From tomorrow, at four bells, you will be gone. A job in Ravka requires someone of your skillset, so you will go. If you fail to comply then you will no longer be welcomed here. I have tolerated your incessant troubling for long enough, you have no true place here until you finally realize how burdensome you truly are."

Your heart stopped.

The air around you liquified, slowly filling your lungs with fluid and choking you, drowning you silently as Kaz looked on with an indifferent scowl, an eyebrow raised in question at your astonishment.

The tears streamed, your body screaming for air, for comfort, for him. But it couldn't seem to attain any one of them, instead pushing all its strength into forming the the right words to pierce Kaz Brekker's impenetrable façade.

"You still don't remember?" you coughed out, "After the incident who was it who rushed back to you, dragged your half-dead body across the Barrel and into the slat. Who stayed by your side until they were forced to leave each night? Do you not have any recollection, not of the memories, but of how you felt for me? Surely I didn't mean that little to you," your voice wavered heavily whilst you gasped out the final line.

The tears formed rugged streams across your cheeks, glinting in the dim candlelight from Kaz's desk, highlighting the pain you had hidden from him for weeks. It was now his turn to be stunned, the words echoing around his mind but not seeming to form into coherent meanings.

Despite Kaz's astonishment at your outburst, it wasn't enough.

Wasn't enough for him to stop you from walking away, or enough to whisper your name louder in confusion and uncertainty as your form dissolved into the hallway .

Surely this was what he was supposed to do?

Yet deep inside his plagued heart your words resounded, filling Kaz with a sense of dread, the waves that usually consumed him began to swell, drowning him in his seat just as he had done to you earlier.

He was certain on one thing, that the gaping pain in his chest which he had presumed was disgust, or perhaps even hatred, had not disappeared. Had not lightened as he had prayed it would if you just vanished.

No. Instead it had intensified into something that swallowed him whole, dragging him further into the bitter ocean than ever before, waves crashing fiercely above his head.

The emotion consumed him as his breathing deepened, heart both simultaneously stopping and racing into oblivion, as it finally dawned on him. Somewhere within that feeling a small spark remained glowing, something that felt warm and familiar which he had repressed.

Something that resembled care, or affection, or...

Love.

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Tag list: @animalistic00 @whos6claire

Click here for part two <3