#but more often than not i am alone and pretending the lights come from a different source

[ishouldreallybeelsewhere]

gonna start pretending i’m an assassin returning to the trade thru a dramatic montage of washing away the blood and putting on a suit and gearing up with all that had been hidden but never disposed of, never forgotten every time i have a shower

[hotchs-big-hands]

Hey Bunny

Aaron Hotchner x plus-size fem!reader SMUT|10.7k words

MINORS DNI PLEASE

Hey everyone! Been a while since I’ve written a full coherent fic LMAO and here I bring the gift of lots of smut. Probably the kinkiest thing I’ve written to date, which I’ll list off in the warnings. This is all based off conversations I’ve had with 🖤 anon for a while :3 so I can’t take all the credit! I hope yawl enjoy this absolute FILTH 💅💅💅

After being woken up from a vivid erotic dream about your boss, who you’re currently on the last night of sharing a hotel room and bed with after a successful case, you’re more than reassured that it’s okay to have such dreams about him. And he’ll learn a bit more about you than he first thought.

Warning(s): light hurt/comfort, very brief mention of Foyet and what he did, so much sex, use of petnames, bunny kink, daddy/sir kink, erotic dreams, oral (both m/f giving and receiving), light gagging, pussy slapping, spanking, light humiliation, a lot of dirty talk in general, fingering, p in v penetration, body worship (both m/f giving and receiving), size kink, slight gaping, condom use, it's just kinky okay what can I tell you?

It was not often enough for a case to end well in a way that allowed for you all to head out for a celebratory meal afterwards. But luckily for you all this time it most certainly had turned out better than anticipated in the end. The kidnapped victims had been found safely and the unsub was subdued with no casualties. Spirits were higher than they had been in the previous case and thus you all found yourselves sitting around a large table sharing a meal; Rossi's treat, of course.

The mood was certainly more rowdy tonight with the sounds of laughter bouncing around the table and cheerful chatter filled the atmosphere with a familial warmth. You were perching more to your left on your chair right now, engaging in the conversation with JJ and Emily with great enthusiasm, something that the two were raising a brow at, though you pretended not to notice. In truth, you were trying to avoid the man sitting on your right. Not for displeasure reasons, but quite the opposite in fact. Attempting to avoid brushing your leg or arm against your very sexy boss was the cause for your behaviour right now.

Aaron Hotchner had been your hotel room mate for the week, something that had been extremely difficult for you to cope with having as big of a crush on him as you did. You'd seen him in far less clothing than his standard neat, tight suits during the entire week as he slept in fitted tees and his underwear, although you suspected he didn't typically do that when he slept alone. It was a very bad idea to linger on those sorts of thoughts though…

JJ suddenly bumped into you, having been shoved by Emily at the climax of a funny story and you squeaked, jolting back and ultimately knocking against Aaron with a yelp.

"H-hey! You two, watch it!" You squeaked, earning a hearty laugh from the dark haired woman.

"Aww come on, it was an accident."

As you opened your mouth to retort, you felt a warm hand rest upon your right leg, just short of your large thigh, and you fought the urge to jolt again.

"Are you alright?" You heard the man beside you ask and you shivered. You didn’t want to look at him in fear of embarrassing yourself by ogling, but at the same time you didn’t want to be rude either. You turned your head in his direction and your breath escaped you when your eyes met his beautiful brown ones accidentally. His gaze was intense and yet kind and concerned. You offered a shy smile.

“I am y-yes. Don’t worry about me, we’re all just in good spirits tonight, sir.”

His brow raised slightly.

“Aaron.” He said. You blinked.

“Mm?”

“We aren’t working now, call me Aaron.”

Oh. You shifted in your seat and grimaced when the wood creaked slightly.

“Alright then, Aaron.” You chuckled to yourself, earning an increasingly perplexed expression on his face. To which you flustered and turned towards him more in your seat and waved a hand out in front of you. “I-I’m not laughing at your name! I’m just- it’s unusual for me to call you by your first name so I’m-“

Aaron’s delightful but sadly rare laugh cut you off and you were greeted with his cute dimples on his cheeks. Even the others stilled their conversation at the sound, but he didn’t appear to care to pay them any mind.

“Please, relax. You're fine, (Y/n).” He smiled, and you basked in the smoothness of his deep voice. You swore you were just imagining things when you felt his hand slightly slip upwards to your lower thigh and squeeze gently, nonetheless you shivered.

The hand remained on your leg right up until Aaron excused himself to visit the restroom whilst the rest of your group began shrugging your coats on ready to head back to the hotel. You felt flutters in your stomach and you fought off a nervous twitch of the corner of your mouth, something your dear friend and colleague Derek noticed.

“A little excited, huh?” He teased, waggling his expressive eyebrows at you. From his perspective you must have appeared like a deer in headlights, eyes wide and your mouth slightly agape.

“Wh- no! I’m tired, eager to go to sleep so we can fly home tomorrow.” You responded quickly as you straightened out your clothing and fastened your coat up.

“Mhm, sure you are.”

Emily was smirking at you when your head whipped round at the sound of her voice and one of her perfect brows was arched. You felt flushed, desperate to rush outside into the biting air of the night. Before you opened your mouth to retort back at her, you noticed her eyes flick over your shoulder and you knew he had returned.

“Ready to go?” Aaron addressed the group. There was a series of responses bounced around and you felt a hand lightly press to the small of your back. You jolted slightly, and met his gaze with a turn. “Shall we go?”

You could only nod. Vainly ignoring the pointed stares of your friends, you followed beside your unit chief as everyone exited the restaurant. You shivered slightly when the frigid wind hit your face, but you were grateful for the temperature change. The walk was short with the restaurant being located a few short blocks from the hotel and you found yourself in step with Emily and JJ, listening and chiming in with the plans they were putting together to have a girl’s night with your one only absent member of the team in the field; Penelope.

“You could stay over at my place at the end of the night out, if you wanted.” Emily said. You nodded and grinned, but JJ grimaced slightly.

“I’d be headed back home to my boys after. I wanna spend as much time with them as I can,” She spoke, then smiled smugly. “Aside from you lovely ladies, of course.”

The darker haired woman of the two huffed out a quiet laugh before the conversation died down when you came to a stop in front of the hotel’s elevator. You busied yourself with looking down at your phone when you felt the men from the team catch you all up and, with the opening of the doors, you all shuffled inside tiredly. You ended up towards the back wall, separated from Emily and JJ, and you briefly caught Emily’s eye. That smirk was present on her face again and you glanced away quickly, only to watch as your breathtaking unit chief squeezed between Derek and Spencer towards you. You couldn’t help your eyes widening slightly and your legs brushing against one another as he came to stand beside you. God, you needed to leave this damn elevator quickly. Slowly, the doors closed and you felt the movement of the elevator rising up to the floor Rossi was on. He, of course, had a room all to himself with the excuse of him being the oldest member of the team and therefore, needing his own space. The remainder of you all were on the floor above in doubles. And that was where your problem lay…

Just one more night, you thought to yourself. One more, then you could escape from the torture of sharing with Aaron Hotchner. Torture, as in sleeping on the only bed in the room; a queen, so close under the covers to the man who had taken up the entirety of your fantasies and erotic dreams. It hadn’t been easy, using the same shower he did, smelling his body wash and imagining it was in your shower at home instead. It was all too much for you and it made your thighs clench together. And while the case had been a good distraction from the full extent of your thoughts about the man, you didn’t have that now with it finished. Tonight was going to be the most tortuous of them all.

You followed behind Derek when the elevator stopped on your floor and you skittishly trekked down the corridor, unable to participate in conversation well. Your room was the first, and as Aaron unlocked the door, you watched helplessly as your friends bid you as much of a ‘good night’ as a pointed smirk that made you turn your back on them, cheeks burning. Seeing the door swung open, you mumbled a quick ‘thank you’ to him as you passed and Aaron followed, quietly closing the door behind you both and locking it again. You crossed the room to your side of the queen-sized bed and shyly perched on the edge to unfasten your shoes and kick them off.

“Do you want to take a shower first?” You heard Aaron say and you turned your body to look at him. Your breath hitched at the sight of him without his jacket on and one of his large hands was loosening the knot of his tie. You blinked a few times, trying to break your stare and you shook your head.

“Oh, no you can. Thank you, si- Aaron.”

Your cheeks flushed when he smirked at your self-correction and he hummed.

“Thanks. I’ll be quick.”

As he disappeared into the shower room with his change of clothes and towel, you flopped backwards on the bed with an exhale. One more night. Just one more and you would be free from accidentally embarrassing yourself or revealing your feelings in front of your boss. You didn’t know how you were going to sleep well tonight with nothing work-related to focus on now. No, instead your mind was fixated on the knowledge you had been sharing a bed with the man you thought about way too often, dreamt about too often, and gasped out the name of whilst you touched yourself when you definitely shouldn’t have been.

Sitting up again, you busied yourself with packing your bag as a distraction, leaving out your clothes for the journey home tomorrow. By the time you were finished, the door to the shower room swung open and Aaron walked out, rubbing his towel through his wet hair. Oh fuck.

With his arms stretched up, his more fitted black tee rode upwards and, to your delight and horror, the sexy softness of his lower stomach peeked out. You could spy the dark hair trailing from the top of his grey boxers and just below it-

“Shower’s all yours.”

You jolted at the sound of his voice and you grabbed your pyjamas and towel quickly, avoiding his gaze.

“T-thank you.”

When you heard the click of the lock, you began to tremble and buried your face in the fabric in your hands. God, you wanted to scream right now. Feebly, you hoped he hadn’t caught you staring at his physique just now but you weren’t so sure. It didn’t help that the scent of his shower gel and aftershave enveloped you in the steamy room. You clenched your thighs together and drew in a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself down enough to wash off the day. Stripping your clothes off and setting them down on the side of the sink top, not daring to look in the mirror too much at your plush body for you knew you’d see just how riled up you were right now.

The cold water of the shower did nothing to stifle the sensations between your legs, your pussy throbbed, yearning to be touched. You forbade it. Tomorrow, you thought. Not when the cause of your arousal was just the other side of the door. But even still you couldn’t resist rubbing your thighs together as the water cascaded down your curves and bumps. Eventually, you gave up and shut the water off and stepped out with your towel wrapped around your figure. You kept your touch feather-light as you dried yourself off and pulled your nightwear on, biting your lip and whimpering when the fabric brushed against the sensitive skin of your breasts and inner thighs. Drawing in a deep breath, you gathered your clothes up after finishing your nightly routine and exited out into the main room.

Aaron wasn’t in bed as you expected, rather standing by the hotel room’s desk with a casefile in hand. At the sound of your return he glanced up from the paperwork through his thick lashes. You swallowed thickly as you returned to your side of the bed again and bent over to stuff the last of your clothes into your bag. Behind you, Aaron cleared his throat and you straightened up quickly and climbed onto the bed, but he remained where he stood, now with his back to you still holding the file. You pouted.

“Si-Aaron, leave that for when we get back to the office. Or at least until we get on the plane,” You said as you peeled the covers back and settled under them. “Come to bed.”

“Making orders, are we?” The man retorted and you froze up, eyes wide in alarm when he turned slightly to look at you. His brows were furrowed, mouth pulled downward in a stern frown.

“A-Ah no! Just- I just thought you could do with an earlier night work-free tonight!” You squeaked, shifting on the bed ready to stand up again until he chuckled and flashed you a cheesy grin.

“I’m teasing you. I’m sorry, you’re right though. I’ll just be a moment, then I’ll be right over.”

You stared, blinking slowly as you processed what had just occurred, then a giggle bubbled out of you as you settled back against the pillows on your side. Aaron wasn’t really the type to tease anyone, and the way he said it to you was… well, sexy. Authoritative. You certainly would be thinking of that tomorrow when you finally returned home. But right now you had to get through this last night, somehow.

As he said, Aaron set the paperwork down after a few minutes and padded across the room to settle down on the bed. Attempting to distract yourself in the meantime, you were scrolling on your phone casually and forcefully willed yourself not to look at him when you felt the mattress dip under his weight settling next to you. As he shuffled under the covers, you reached over to your bedside table and set your phone down, then snuggled down against the pillows. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, so close to you that it was electrifying. Your body shuddered.

“Cold?” Aaron queried. Your toes curled.

“Y-yeah. I’ll warm up though.”

“Right. Let me know if you don’t though.”

“Will do.” You turned on your side, facing away from him as he reached for the light switch on the wall next to him. “Good night, sir.”

Aaron hummed.

“Sleep well, (Y/n).”

And somehow, you managed to drift off to sleep.

“Mhm, come on now. Show daddy your pretty pussy.” Aaron said with a smirk, kneeling between your plump thighs as you dug your heels into the mattress.

You bit your lip, gazing up at his dishevelled appearance, his shirt unbuttoned the whole way and hanging from his shoulders to reveal the plains of his strong chest and soft pudge of his lower stomach. And below it was a prominent bulge pressed against the fly of his neat slacks, the sight making you shudder with need. Shyly, you grabbed your legs by the back of your knees and slowly pulled them apart, feeling your folds spread and the cool air of the room caressed your glistening slit. Aaron’s pupils dilated until his brown eyes appeared almost black and his hands came to grip onto the meat of your thighs, fingers digging in as he pulled them further apart to examine your throbbing clit and twitchy entrance. He groaned as a trail of juices trickled out of you, slowly disappearing between your ass cheeks before him.

“Yes… such a good girl for daddy. You want me to play with your pussy, huh?”

You rolled your hips eagerly, letting out a guttural whine.

“Please daddy, please!”

His smirk widened.

“Please, what?”

You whimpered as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

“P-please play with my pussy, daddy! Need your fingers so badly!” You cried, rolling your hips again.

“Good girl.”

His hands brushed closer and closer to your slit until he suddenly pushed back the hood of your clit with his right thumb, exposing the bundle of nerves to him and eliciting a squeak. But as his other hand came to caress it your hips jumped, the pleasurable sensation intense already. He cooed.

“So sensitive and jumpy, like a cute little bunny.”

Your eyes widened and your body jolted with his words, making him let out a surprised chuckle.

“Oh? You like being called bunny, huh? Naughty girl.” He said and his hand came down fast and slapped your poor clit. You wailed, your grip on your legs tightening.

“D-daddy~!”

Your cheeks warmed, your lower belly coiling in embarrassment and arousal and he let out a breathy laugh again.

“Awww, is my little bunny embarrassed she liked that? How cute. Don’t worry though, daddy’s gonna take care of you…”

Muffled sounds roused Aaron from his light slumber and he sat up quickly in alarm, reaching over to his bedside table- then he realised the covers were moving beside him. He cautiously turned to look over your side of the bed and his jaw clenched.

Writhing with the sheets kicked mostly off, you slept restlessly. A thin layer of sweat beaded on your forehead and your brows were creased. This was where the noise was coming from, Aaron thought as you whimpered quietly. A nightmare? Then he really paid attention to the way your body moved, hips rolling, legs splaying lazily and your hands clutched at the sheets. Oh.

Within his boxers, Aaron felt his cock twitch at the realisation of what you were more likely dreaming about in that moment. Fuck. What was he to do? He most certainly wouldn’t get anymore sleep now at this rate. Maybe he should quietly get dressed and leave with a note telling you he went for a walk. But at the same time he didn’t like the thought of leaving you by yourself- Aaron scrunched his eyes shut and clenched his hands into fists, pushing away the more serious thoughts. You were capable of protecting yourself, he knew that. And yet…

“Mmh, daddy please…” He heard beside him and his entire body jolted in surprise, eyes flying open and immediately finding your face. Aaron swallowed thickly as his cock twitched again, hardening slowly.

Try as he might to resist, his eyes wandered to the rest of your body where your chest rose and fell, the swell of your breasts strained against the confines of your pyjama shirt. Fuck, your nipples were pebbled and for a moment he wondered how they'd feel between his teeth.

He clenched his jaw and forced his gaze away from your chest, only to find himself ogling the squishiness of your stomach. Oh, how he had fantasised about gripping onto it as he thrusted his cock into you, needing to see how your body moved in time with him. And as his eyes trailed down to your moving hips he spotted the dampening patch on the crotch of your pyjama shorts- fuck, he needed to wake you up now.

Carefully, Aaron reached a shaky hand over towards you in the darkness of the room and touched your shoulder.

“(Y/n), hey, wake up.” He said softly, and in response your eyes squeezed shut as you let out a groan. “Come on, wake up, sweetheart.”

A moment passed, then your eyes fluttered open and flicked to look at him, only to squeak and flinch back when familiarity filled your gaze.

“S-sir!” You cried out.

This couldn’t be happening to you right now, surely. You surely weren't sprawled out flushed and needy whilst Aaron stared down at you as he kneeled beside you, his hand still resting on your shoulder. You quickly sat up and pulled the covers up over your form.

“Wh-what’s wrong? Do we have a case?” You stumbled over the words quickly, and Aaron blinked, then huffed out a quiet laugh.

“No, no. Don't worry about that. Are you okay?” He asked gently and you felt your stomach clench. Oh no…

“I-I….”

Aaron leaned a little closer, brows creased in concern.

“Bad dream?”

You froze. He really did hear you, then. After a moment, you sighed and rubbed your hands over your face.

“No… but I think you already know that, sir.” You mumbled.

Aaron hummed and dropped his hand from your shoulder.

“I didn't want to accuse you of anything and embarrass you,” he said and shifted back towards his side of the bed ever so slightly to give you space. “But, well, I woke up because I could hear you.”

Your grip on the covers tightened as a cold feeling of shame oozed over you.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean for that to happen.”

You mumbled as your head drooped and you felt your lower lip begin to tremble. This was the worst thing to happen right now. Not only had you dreamt of your boss in an inappropriate way, you'd disturbed his sleep too.

“Hey…” Aaron began softly, reaching across again to take hold of one of your hands. You refused to look up though, the negative feelings within now burned through your veins like lava. “Look at me.” He said.

You didn't move.

“I can't. Wanna forget this happened, sir.” You mumbled back.

He was quiet for a moment, brushing his thumb across your knuckles soothingly.

“Well I don't.”

That got your attention, then. Your head snapped up and your eyes searched his face.

“I-I’m sorry?”

Aaron gazed down at you through his thick lashes, the sight causing a warmth to pool within your lower abdomen. Had he gotten closer all of a sudden?

“I’m going to switch the room light on, protect your eyes for a moment.”

You complied immediately, turning away to bury your face in the crook of your arm and you heard the click of the light switch, signalling you to slowly pull your arm away from your squinting eyes. Now… Now there was nothing to hide from him. You turned back towards him and you shuddered at the sight of his rugged appearance. Aaron exhaled.

“Listen (Y/n), you think I'm a stranger to erotic dreams? Of course I'm not.” He said, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “You've nothing to be ashamed of.”

“But I do!” You cried and pulled back, stumbling out of bed and clenching your hands into fists. “I shouldn't have had this dream, especially since I dreamt about the very person I've been-” your eyes widened then, realising what you'd almost said. Aaron knelt up now, moving closer to where you stood backed against the wall.

“Been what?”

You just had to dig your hole deeper. Aaron’s brows were creased now, but all you could do was stare back with a saddened furrow.

“(Y/n)?”

The prickling feeling in the corner of your eyes triggered your throat to tighten as you fought the urge to cry.

“You know what I'm going to say, but I'm ashamed to say it.” You choked.

Aaron's brows raised slightly, but he remained quiet for a moment as though lost in thought.

Every second that passed was agony, your mind beginning to race away from you with ‘what ifs’ about everything. Was he uncomfortable with you? What if you were transferred or fired? The thought made your chest ache and finally, the tears began to roll down your cheeks and your breaths grew shallow and fast.

“Hey, hey. (Y/n), look at me. C'mere back to bed.” Aaron's voice brought you from your thoughts and your eyes refocused on the contours of his mature face. He was painfully beautiful. “Will you let me hug you? You're okay. You've nothing to be ashamed of.”

You simply nodded meekly and he breathed, reaching out to you-of which you met him halfway by crawling back onto the mattress- and pulled you over for a warm, ever engulfing embrace, maintaining you at his side respectfully. You let out a whimper as you gripped onto his shirt tightly, whilst his hands held firmly onto your soft body.

“I'm sorry.” You mumbled against his shirt.

“You don't need to be.”

“I had an embarrassing sex dream about you and now you're comforting me for it.”

Aaron held you closer still, resting your head on his chest. Wait- his heart was racing.

“Maybe that’s because I want to.” He said quietly. You pulled back.

“Wh-why?”

He quirked a little grin as one of his hands glided up and down your back soothingly.

“Well, when I said I am no stranger to erotic dreams…” he trailed off and your breath hitched.

No way. Surely he wasn't implying-

“Whatever you're thinking, the answer is yes. I've had my own fair share of…dreams about you.” His eyes were fixed on you as he spoke, and you felt your body trembling. He let out a chuckle. “I've been very lucky this week that somehow I haven't had one, to put things into perspective.”

You stared at him for a moment, then your face broke out into a flustered grin and you giggled.

“Oh! Well I- I didn't expect that, sir!”

With the room light on now you could bear witness to the delightful sight of Aaron's flushed pink cheeks as he grinned bashfully.

“Now you see that you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

You both quietened for a moment, holding one another gently as you studied one another. He really was such a beautiful man. Silently, he leaned down towards you closer still and your breath hitched.

“A-are you gonna kiss me, sir?”

“Mhm, you called me something very different when you were sleeping.” He murmured and you shuddered.

“I…”

“I sure hope you're not about to apologise again to me, sweetheart.” He said as he leaned closer towards your face, eyes gazing down at your lips through his thick lashes. “Because if you are, I'm going to have to put that pretty mouth of yours to better use.”

Your eyes widened and you shivered as your thighs clenched together.

“F-fuck…”

Aaron hummed and cupped your cheeks with his large hands, his thumbs stroking your soft skin.

“May I kiss you, (Y/n)?”

You swallowed thickly.

“Please.” You managed to whisper.

And his lips were pressed against yours a moment later, tender and gentle and sensual as your eyes fluttered shut and your hands came to grab onto the front of his tee shirt. Instinctively, you whined into it and his hands moved, gliding down to your plush waist and gripping onto the flesh. He moved backwards, pulling you with him to straddle his lap and as your clothed slit reached the fabric of his underwear you felt just how much he wanted this from the firm, hot bulge that pressed against the confines of the fabric.

You whimpered as he pulled back barely enough for him to be able to speak, his lips still brushing against yours as he spoke.

“Feel how much I like you, huh? Need you so much, pretty girl.”

You shyly rolled your hips, grinding your mound against the bulge and earning a sharp hiss from the man before you. His hands moved suddenly to grab your ass cheeks, squeezing and melding them and causing you to roll your hips more in response. He groaned against your mouth when his lips met yours again, the second kiss being more heated and desperate; hungry for you. Only when the need for oxygen burned in your chest did you both part once more, but his lips remained on your skin as they travelled along your soft jaw.

“C'mon, tell me about the dream you were having.” He coaxed you, holding your body flushed with his more than ever. You merely whimpered and your hands moved to his hair, messing it up with strands pointing in random directions. Aaron tutted and turned you both over, pinning you beneath him and making you squeal.

“A-alright! I, mmh, wanted you to touch my p-pussy, you had me spread my legs for you.”

Something flared within Aaron's dark eyes and you heard a rumble in his chest; possessive and aroused. His hands gripped your hips and you parted your thighs a little, eager for him. He smirked.

“Oh? Well, we'll build up to that. Wanna ask you a few things first.” he said, brushing his nose against yours. “I wanna know what you're okay with and your limits.”

You sucked your lower lip between your teeth and slowly released it, enjoying the way Aaron's eyes fixated on your mouth.

“J-just as long as you don't do anything too extreme like really hurting me or extremely gross I'm okay. I'm a big girl, I can take it.”

You felt as Aaron's hands slid up to cup your cheeks and he kissed the tip of your nose fondly, making you hum.

“I see, I don't want to hurt you, at least nothing more than if you enjoyed a bit of spanking. How does that sound, hmm?” He said and you shuddered, flashes of the dream you'd had causing you to subtly spread your legs a little wider.

A whine escaped you as you held onto him desperately. “Yes, fuck please!”

Aaron smiled.

“Good girl.”

You shivered and opened and closed your mouth a few times, debating on how to word what you wanted to say next. He quirked a brow.

“What is it?”

“I… well, I love slaps on my ass but I also- fuck, this is embarrassing!” you squeaked, earning a kiss to your forehead, then Aaron brushed his own forehead against yours.

“You don't need to be embarrassed, sweetheart. I'm not here to shame you.”

With a whimper, you blurted it out.

“I really like pussy spanking!”

As the words slipped your mouth the reaction was instantaneous; the man before you jolted forward, his hips bumping against yours and pressing the prominent bulge of his erection against your inner thigh. And it twitched. You made a small noise as he pushed himself up again as he uttered an apology.

“I didn’t mean to do that, I’m sorry.” Aaron said but in response you rolled your hips upwards, chasing the feeling of his arousal against your body.

“I-It’s more than fine, s-Aaron.”

He hummed, pressing his weight down onto you now and his lips brushed over yours.

“So, pussy spanking? I didn’t expect that from you, naughty girl.” He teased you and you shuddered. He chuckled softly and began to slightly grind his bulge against the heat of your clothed slit. “You want daddy to spank your pussy, huh?”

You bit your lip, brows creasing as you nodded at him with a little hum.

“Y-you’re okay with daddy?”

Aaron stroked your cheek and pressed a soft kiss against the corner of your mouth.

“More than okay with it, I assure you.”

With that he pressed his lips to yours properly once more and his large hands travelled down your neck until he grasped your breasts, causing you to gasp in surprise. Aaron took advantage of this, his tongue brushing against your own whilst his fingers pinched and flicked at your erect nipples through your pyjama shirt. All you could do was grip onto his upper arms, the strong muscles tensing as you rolled your hips up against Aaron's bulge and causing much needed friction on your poor clit.

When you both parted for oxygen again, you whined.

“Please-!”

“Aww, please what?” Aaron cooed at you, though it wasn't entirely sincere but rather mimicking your tone. You felt flushed, embarrassed but enjoying it more than you thought you would.

“W-wanna feel your hands on my skin!”

With a hum of approval, you felt as he pulled at the hem of your shirt and you shifted up from the bed just enough for him to be able to pull it off your body, exposing your plush body to him finally. You didn’t have time to clam up and cover yourself with your arms as Aaron gently grasped your wrists and pinned them either side of your head. He exhaled deeply, causing a rumble to vibrate through his chest. His dark eyes roamed over your form and again, you felt his cock twitch.

“Jesus, you’re fucking beautiful.”

Your legs came to clamp around his hips and you tried to curl your knees inwards in a feeble attempt at covering yourself.

“S-sir!” you squeaked. His eyes narrowed and he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

“Careful, if you call me that I may not know what to do with myself when we’re working together.”

Your eyes widened in alarm, but a faint smirk toyed with the corner of his mouth and you relaxed a little. You’d keep that in mind for now. Drawing your attention back to the present, Aaron released his hold on your wrists, only for his hands to glide across your shoulders and down the centre of your chest, teasing you by avoiding touching your nipples. Now, he allowed himself to smile more openly and he drew in a deep breath.

“So soft, so fucking sexy. You’ll let me kiss them, huh pretty girl?” He murmured.

You nodded and offered a brief ‘yes’ and he slid down the bed a little until his face was level with your breasts. You shuddered when his lips made contact with the valley between them, leaving little kisses over the area and starting to sidle over to the right one, his tongue slipping out to swirl around your areola and causing you to arch up into his touch and gasp out. You could feel his lips curl into a smirk as they wrapped around the pert nipple and he sucked it into his mouth, his hand coming to grab your other breast and roll the nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. You moaned softly, moving your hands to sift through the dark locks of Aaron’s hair and mussing it up. When his teeth brushed against the tip your back arched and you tugged on his hair, making him huff a muffled laugh.

With a wet smack of his lips, he pulled away from your now swollen nipple and brushed his lips over the flushed skin.

“You sound so sexy when you moan for me, pretty girl.” He murmured and you let go of his hair to cover your face with your hands, squeaking.

“Shhh! Don't say that!”

Unbeknownst to you, his gaze darkened and suddenly, his hand came down and slapped your inner thigh and startling you with a squeal.

“Aaron!”

His hand slapped your thigh again, closer to your clothed slit.

“What was that, hm?” He said darkly, his hand gripping onto the meat of your thigh, his fingers indenting slightly. You breathed shakily.

“I-I-”

“It’s daddy, got it? Or do you want to be punished?”

You stared into his dark eyes and sucked on your lower lip again, slightly swaying your hips side to side. 

“No, daddy. I-I’ll be a good girl.” you whimpered and Aaron hummed softly, moving his hands up to cup your cheeks and brushing his thumbs against your skin.

“That’s right, you’re my good girl.”

He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours again, groaning softly into the kiss and you returned to brushing your fingers through his dark locks. You felt him press his thick bulge against you and you desperately wanted to feel his bare skin against yours. Needed to see it, touch it, taste it…

Aaron grunted in surprise as you shoved him away, only to hear you giggle as you manoeuvred him to lay on his back whilst you knelt at his crotch. His eyes narrowed at you.

“What do you think you’re doing, hmm?” He asked darkly and you leaned down closer to the twitching bulge of his boxers.

“Can I have a taste please, sir?”

Visibly, Aaron’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. He let out a puff of air through his nose and a smirk tugged at his mouth.

“What did I tell you about calling me ‘sir’? You fucking naughty girl.” He gritted, although he wasn’t truly annoyed. You hummed innocently.

“Whoops, I can’t help it, sir. I’m just so used to it.”

Shaking his head but smiling slightly, Aaron raised a brow at you and his body relaxed.

“Well, since you asked so nicely I’ll forgive and forget both you shoving me ah-nd-” His words stuttered when you pressed a little kiss to the tip of his clothed cock and hummed softly at the feeling of the patch of precum staining his boxers touching your lips. “F-fuck…”

You beamed at him between his slightly parted legs, pressing your soft cheek against the bulge affectionately.

“You’re so big, daddy!”

With your newfound confidence, you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his underwear and slid them down, eyes wide as they focused on his cock. You heard Aaron hiss when his length finally slipped out, slapping against the lower part of his tee shirt. He was very big. Aaron let out a deep, quiet moan as he studied your expression- you were in awe, almost salivating at the sight of him. You slid down to lay on your stomach, taking hold of his shaft and causing him to hiss sharply. From the hem of his shirt you could see the base of his thick happy trail, the dark hair spreading out across his pubic bone and haloing his cock. With your other hand, you pulled his underwear down further until they reached his mid-thigh and now you had access to his mouth-watering balls too. You whimpered. Aaron felt precum slowly drip down off his tip, soaking into his shirt and leaving a little wet patch.

“You like the look of daddy’s cock huh?”

You nodded and whined out a little “yes” before you nuzzled your face against his cock. Eyes fluttering shut, you slowly opened your mouth and took the oozing tip inside, humming at the taste of his natural body and the slightly salty precum. You heard Aaron swear as you swirled your tongue around the tip, slipping your mouth further down the shaft. You bobbed your head lightly, sucking against his skin and feeling giddiness rise in your chest with every grunt and moan and curse that passed his lips. He tasted so good, addicting and you craved more. With one hand on his shaft, sliding up and down to meet your mouth, the other glided up to his stomach, slipping under his shirt and gripping onto the soft pudge there. You carded your fingers through the thick, dark hair there and felt the muscles under his skin contracting with every suck and lick of his cock. You felt his hands gently grip your scalp and you dug your fingers into his stomach when he began to guide you up and down his length.

“Unnf… that’s it, fuck- such a good fucking girl-” Aaron moaned softly, and you could feel him twitching against your tongue. You took more into your mouth until you felt the tip reach the back, just short of your throat, and you gagged a little. Aaron pulled you off quickly, sitting up to cup your cheeks. “Oh shit, I’m sorry sweetheart. Are you okay?” His eyes searched your face, the saliva dribbling down your chin and the little gasping breaths passing your swollen lips. You grinned.

“Mmh I am. Guess I gotta practice more to build up to that.” You breathed and slid your hand up and down his length. Aaron bucked his hips in surprise, falling back against the pillows with a grunt and causing you to giggle. “Oops~!”

You continued to slide your hand up over the slick tip whilst you kissed down the underside of the shaft until you reached the place where his cock met his balls. You hummed softly, tongue darting out to lick them and causing Aaron to groan deeply from the back of his throat. You could only sneak a couple more kisses before he pulled you away from his cock, grabbing onto your upper arms and hauling you to straddle him. He pressed his lips to yours in a fierce kiss, no doubt tasting himself on your lips, and his hands slid over to your back and encouraged you to grind your clothed slit over his shaft. You whined, feeling the tip bump your clit with the movement and wanting to feel more. Before you knew it, you were trapped beneath him on your back again, gasping in surprise and in turn, allowing his tongue to slip against yours. You felt hot, burning with need for him and craving him to do as he pleased with you so long as you could stay with him.

Aaron reeled back, gazing down at you with a look of pure desire and admiration of you. He reached for his shirt, pulling it up over his head and discarding it without any care and your pupils blew wide at the breathtaking sight of him in his entirety. Your eyes trailed over his form, over every bump and curve, the hair sprouting over his stomach, at every mole and beauty mark. But also at the faded but still raised scars that were scattered all across his body. You hadn’t known him during the threat of Foyet but had heard some of what transpired. But seeing it before you, seeing what physical damage that sadistic man had done to Aaron made your breath hitch. You blinked a few times, both to stop yourself from staring but also to try to clear away the tears welling up. Aaron noticed them though, leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose affectionately.

“I’m okay, sweetheart. I promise.” He murmured softly. You nodded, but in the back of your mind you filed this off for a later time. For now, you slid your hand across his torso, feeling his skin under your touch and you kissed the corner of his mouth.

“You’re so handsome, sir. I knew you were already but…”

Aaron chuckled quietly, the tips of his ears evidently red as he cupped your cheek with one of his hands, brushing his thumb over your lips.

“Sweet-talking me, are we? Well, I appreciate it. I feel the same way seeing you.” kneeling back and lightly gripping onto the band of your shorts, he smirked. “Speaking of… shall we get these off you now, pretty girl? Gotta show your cute, little pussy the same amount of love you gave my cock.”

You squeaked, hips twitching upwards into his touch and allowing him to start sliding the shorts down your plush stomach and stretching over your large thighs. At the sight of your pubic mound, Aaron hummed deeply and made quick work pulling the fabric off the rest of the way, too joining the rest of your clothes elsewhere on the floor. You bit your lip, gazing up at him desperately and he chuckled again,

“Mhm, now I recall what you told me earlier from your dream. So,” He leaned back to give you space and gripped his girthy cock with one of his large hands. “Show daddy your pretty pussy.”

Oh fuck, you whimpered as you felt your clit throb at his command. You slid your hands down your body and gripped onto your legs, hooking your hands under your knees, and started parting your thighs for him. The cool air of the room hitting your dewy folds caused you to shiver, and the sight of Aaron jerking himself off to you made you feel confident, more aroused.

“I-is this okay, sir?”

Aaron gripped the base of his cock tightly, groaning a little and shifting forward towards your spread legs.

“God- so fucking pretty. You’ll let daddy touch, won’t you? You’re so wet.” He breathed, eyes focused on your slit.

“P-please-”

“Good girl.”

Letting go of his cock, Aaron instead moved his hands down to part your folds with his thumbs, licking his lips at the sight of your juices coating your skin. You shivered again, rolling your hips in desperation.

SLAP.

You squealed, back arching as the sting of Aaron’s hand impacting with your pussy startled you more than hurt you.

“Daddy!”

“I didn’t say you could keep moving around, little girl.”

Your eyes widened at his sharp tone, staring up at him as he glared. He resumed with his touches, swiping his fingers down from your little bundle of nerves to your leaking entrance. You whimpered, struggling to stay still but you couldn’t stop yourself from twitching. He chuckled and held his hand out to you showing off how much of your juices had stuck to his fingers.

“Would you look at that, little girl. So sensitive… i’ve barely touched you and you’re so jumpy.”

Your eyes widened and your stomach clenched, causing Aaron to pause.

“What is it? Are you alright?” His tone softened and you panicked a little.

“A-ah yes! Don’t worry, I just-” you felt a flush of warmth to your cheeks as you thought of how to word what you were about to say next. “Well, in my dream I was jumpy and you said I was jumpy like a b-bunny.”

For a moment the room was quiet, and you wondered if you had made a mistake. But as you opened your mouth to take back what you’d said, Aaron pinched your clit, making you cry out and buck your hips up.

“Well well, you’re more fucking filthy than I expected. You want me to call you my little bunny, huh?”

You keened up at him, letting out a high pitched noise as you tightened your grip on your legs.

“P-please, daddy!”

With a quiet huffing laugh, Aaron swiped his fingers across your pussy again and leaned down to press a kiss to your pubic mound. You quivered, anticipating what he would do next.

“So soft… Mmh, you smell so good, bunny. Gonna taste you now.” He whispered and slid his mouth lower, brushing his lips over the hood of your sensitive clit. He hummed, sending vibrations through your slit and you choked out, bucking your hips up against his face.

SLAP.

You sobbed out a broken moan with the smack to your pussy again, this time more firmly than the first one.

“Fuck- sorry da- ungh!” you could barely speak, words slurring into a loud moan when Aaron’s tongue swiped from your leaky hole up to your little nub, sucking it into his mouth and releasing it with a tug. He didn’t stop, lapping at the bundle of nerves with his talented tongue and all you could do was try to stop yourself from riding his face. With his slick covered hand, he circled a finger around your entrance and dipped it inside slightly with every round; teasing you. He sucked you back into his mouth again, simultaneously thrusting the finger inside you in one swipe and you wailed.

Your grip on your legs faltered, slipping from your grasp and your feet slammed down onto the mattress. With a growl, Aaron surrounded your clit with his teeth as he pulled his mouth away again and as he did so, his finger slipped back out of your pussy. The sound of his fingers slapping your poor slit resounded around the room, accompanied by your cute squeal.

“You’re a naughty fucking bunny, aren’t you? Can’t keep hold of your legs anymore, huh? Tsk.”

Shoving your legs apart, Aaron thrusted two fingers inside you this time and his mouth devoured your poor clit, the little nub becoming swollen and red from the spanks. With another sob, your hands came to grip at his hair and he growled again, fucking his fingers into you roughly. He would be the death of you, driving you brainless with his touch and you’d thank him for it too.

Two fingers became three, stretching your little pussy open around them as he tortured you with his mouth. You already felt full just with his thick fingers inside you, but you’d seen the girth of his cock and you could only wonder how much it would split you open for him.

“S-so much- Fuck! Daddy, s-so thick~” You whined, feeling your juices drooling out of you with every thrust of his fingers. Aaron pulled off your clit again far enough away to speak.

“You need stretching out so you can take daddy’s cock, bunny.”

He emphasised with a thrust upwards and your hips spasmed, hands gripping the bedsheets either side of you desperately.

“G-ghh fuck!” 

His mouth resumed on your mound as his pace quickened, fingers rapidly thrusting in and out of you with a sloshing sound. You felt a burning pleasure building within your lower abdomen, coaxed by his torturous touch and your noises raised in pitch. With the feeling of your walls clamping around his fingers, Aaron smirked around your clit as he knew you were going to cum any moment now. With a light nibble of his teeth and a particular thrust you cried, back arching as you rode his mouth and fingers through your powerful orgasm. But he didn’t let up, continuing your torture until you were keening again. Only then did he relent, pulling off your clit with a wet smack of his lips and he pushed himself up with his spare hand, keeping his fingers of his other hand inside you still. He licked his lips.

“Mhm, you taste real good, bunny.” he smirked, eyes on your heaving chest. You struggled to catch your breath, eyes heavily lidded as you basked in the aftershocks.

“F-fuck, that was…”

“Us only getting started.”

That helped your eyes recover, widening as you stared up at the mischievous look on Aaron’s face.

“Oh fuck.”

He leaned down to kiss you, full of passion as you opened your mouth to taste your juices that lingered on his tongue, but pulled away far too soon and his fingers slipped out of your gushing hole. He cooed at you when you whimpered, pressing one more kiss to your forehead.

“Just gotta get a condom, bunny. You just sit tight for daddy, okay?” He said as he shifted away and clambered off the bed. Your eyes followed his toned rump, the urge to bite it suddenly flooded your mind and you bit your lip. Maybe another time, you thought.

“Why’d you have condoms, daddy? You thinking about fucking me?” You giggled as he grabbed a little foil packet from his go-bag. He turned to you with a glare, stalking over to the bed and crawling towards you on the mattress. Before you could react, his hand came down sharply on your overly sensitive clit and you wailed, body jolting as pleasure and pain spasmed through you.

“Don’t be coy with me, naughty little bunny. I have them for less mess. Which is your doing,” He emphasised with another, lighter slap to your clit, then massaged it with the slightly rough pad of his fingers. “You keep invading my dreams and I have to sort out the problem you cause.”

Oh fuck, you whined as your mind was filled with thoughts of Aaron waking from erotic dreams about you, fucking his fist at the thought of you afterwards.

“G-god that’s so hot, daddy!” you moaned, rolling your hips involuntarily and he grunted.

“It’s been torture, is what it is.” Aaron came to kneel between your spread legs again, this time his hips were flushed with your thighs, and he tore open the little wrapper with his skillful fingers. But as he began rolling the rubber over his thick shaft, his hands faltered and his cock twitched. “Oh god.”

You tilted your head.

“Wh-what’s wrong?”

Aaron didn’t say anything at first as he secured the condom in place, but then he pressed the length down against your squishy stomach and mound and you realised what he was thinking about.

“Look how small you are compared to daddy’s cock.” He marvelled. And he was right. He was so thick, at least three of his fingers in width, with the tip ending at the midway point of your low abdomen. Oh… You felt your pussy clench in anticipation.

“I…I don’t know if it’ll fit, daddy.”

You sucked your lip into your mouth, wiggling your hips as you shifted to get comfortable. Aaron cooed at you.

“Aww don’t worry bunny, daddy will make sure it fits.”

Grasping his cock and shifting back just enough to align the bulbous head with your pussy, he slowly brushed it up and down, using his other hand to spread your lips to expose more of your clit to him as he massaged it with his cock. You were gasping out cute, little noises which only encouraged him to grind more, thrusting over the hood of the sensitive nub with a quiet grunt.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. You ready to take my cock, little bunny?” He rumbled and you grasped for the hand spreading your folds.

“Please, sir! N-need it so badly~” you whined and with a huffed laugh, Aaron angled his cock in line with your oozing entrance.

“Gonna push inside now, bunny. Be a good girl for me-”

You could feel the pressure on your hole. The sensation of his cockhead slowly pushing into you made your eyes widen more and more until suddenly, it slid home and stretched you out deliciously.

“O-oh-!” Your mouth was agape, and Aaron groaned deeply with the sensation of your pussy clenching around his tip. Christ, you already felt full to the brim. But then as his hand slammed down onto the pillow beside your head in an attempt to stay upright, his cock slid in further- easing into you more and stretching you out a little bit at a time. “Fuck!” You moaned, eyes fluttering shut.

His own moan joined yours, deep and sensual and one of the best sounds you had ever heard. He stilled, holding himself up as he waited for you to adjust.

“F-fuck- sorry, sweetheart- you just feel so good I lost my balance for a moment.” He grunted, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “You alright?”

You nodded, straining your neck up to press your lips to his cheek over the beauty mark under his right eye.

“I am, don’t worry. Feels so good, I promise.” You murmured softly, smiling up at him. He chuckled and a delightful blush tinted his cheeks.

“Okay, okay. Gonna slide out a bit and try to get a little deeper, bunny.”

Pulling his hips back, you felt his length retreating until only the tip remained, then he lightly thrusted forward with a soft grunt again. Slowly, inch-by-inch he worked his cock inside you, encouraged by your soft moans. And then, you felt his hips press against the back of your thighs, stuffed full of his fat cock. Your eyes were blown wide, whining loudly when you felt the pad of his thumb brush against your clit.

“S-full…” you slurred, hands reaching for Aaron’s arms to grip onto. He was clenching his jaw, resisting the urge to fuck into you until you were ready.

“You take me so well, bunny- fuck!” Your pussy clenched around him from his praising and it took every ounce of his strength not to fall on top of you again.

You felt impossibly stuffed full of him with a dull ache throbbing through your lower abdomen, though not entirely unpleasant.

“P-please…”

“Please, what? Use your words, pretty bunny.” Aaron teased and you whined whilst pushing your hips up at him.

“Please move, daddy!” you finally whined out and he kissed your forehead.

“Good girl.”

Slowly sliding his cock out of you, your pussy clinging to his shaft like a vice grip, he paused when only the tip remained. And then he thrusted forward in one firm movement, spearing you on his length to the hilt. You cried out in time with his grunt, and slowly he picked up a pace. IN and out, in and out, your body jolting in time with every thrust, to which Aaron grabbed onto one of your breasts to leverage himself.

“Feel so fucking good around my cock- fuck- good little bunny-” Aaron grunted and emphasised his words every time he bottomed out, his voice more husky than usual as pleasure burned through his entirety. You could only moan and wail, the pressure of his cock stretching out your hole and the prominent vein running along the topside of his shaft stimulated your clitoris from within.

“S-so much- Aah-Aaron!” You wailed as your words melted into moans, not even paying attention to the fact his name had slipped through. You felt Aaron’s hips stutter and he swore loudly, curling downward and kissing your neck hungrily. His pace quickened, his cock barely pulling out more than halfway now and stimulating the roof of your pussy more thoroughly. But you least expected his hand grabbing your breast to let go, only to slap your poor clit and making you cry out barely lower than a scream. “Sir!”

Aaron pulled upright to glare down at you, still fucking his cock into you roughly,

“That’s not what you called me just now, you fucking naughty girl.” He hissed as he slapped your clit again. You howled, back arching and your legs tried to close but were blocked by his hips.

“Please! I’m sorry, daddy! Feels too good~”

“I haven’t even been fucking you for that long and you’re already this brainless? Fucking filthy.” He spat, rubbing his fingers over you clit rapidly. You writhed beneath him, not caring about having shame as your pleasure began to swell. He scoffed. “I can feel you pulsing. Gonna cum, are you? Go on, cum for daddy like the filthy fucking bunny you are.”

The pleasure was burning now, spreading through your core until you let out a broken moan, grabbing Aaron by the shoulders and pulling him down on top of you, his fingers still rapidly toying with your sensitive nub. It was blinding, no other orgasm had compared to this one before. Being so full of him, surrounded by him, his relentless movements… You were spasming hard, your body trying to shy away from the overwhelming pleasure but Aaron pulled you back with his free hand.

“Oh no you don’t. You’re staying right here, bunny.”

You whined as oversensitivity caused your body to shiver uncontrollably. Aaron finally relented, though still kept you stuffed with his cock and he brushed his lips against your cheek. “You doing okay?” he whispered softly and you nodded, smiling a little,

“God yeah, you’re fucking wild!” You giggled when he huffed out a laugh and nuzzled your cheek against his. “We can keep going, that was just the most intense orgasm I think I’ve ever had.”

“Jeez, well it was certainly the most intense sensation I’ve felt around my cock, I’ll tell you that.”

With one last kiss to your cheek, Aaron pulled back and his demeanour shifted back to being stern and dominant. He eyed the place where you two bodies joined and he hummed.

“Don’t move, daddy wants to check something, ‘kay?”

You whimpered as you felt his cock slowly pulling out of your oversensitive channel but then you squeaked when he pulled the tip out entirely, followed by a gush of your juices. He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer, pushing your thighs back until you knees reached your chest. “Hold them there.”

You complied immediately, gripping the back of your knees and struggling a little bit with the sweat that had built up there. With his hands free now though Aaron carefully pried your folds apart and he groaned loudly. You twitched.

“Wh-what is it?”

His eyes dragged up to your face and he smirked.

“Wanted to see how much you’d stretched for daddy, bunny. You’re fucking gaping.”

You felt your eyes widen and a full-body shiver coursed through you.

“Oh my god.”

He hummed deeply again, then leaned his body down to swipe his tongue around your slightly gaping entrance. You could barely make a noise before he sat up again and pushed his cock back inside in one quick movement and you gasped loudly. With your knees pressed to your chest it felt as though he pushed impossibly deeper inside you and it made you mewl for him. He was rolling his hips sensually into you, moaning in his sensually baritone voice.

“Fuck… Don’t think I’m gonna last too much longer, sweetheart.” He huffed out when he felt you clenching around him again. You let go of your legs, hooking them over his shoulders and instead grasping hold of his hands.

“S’okay, me neither-”

Aaron’s pubic bone rubbed against your swollen clit, the hair tickling it with the roll of his hips. He squeezed your dominant hand and moved it between your bodies but didn’t let go, instead guiding your circles around the bundle of nerves.

“That’s it, good girl. My fucking good bunny.” He encouraged you. Pleasure was building again rapidly within you, and you turned your head to bite into the pillow cradling your head.

“F-fuck! Please- please!”

Aaron picked up the pace, pulling out just enough to piston in and out of you and his noises raised an octave higher.

“Shit- (Y/n)!” He moaned and that was it for you. Your body shook and quivered almost violently, eyes rolling back into your head as you wailed Aaron’s name. Simultaneously, his cock twitched prominently as he orgasmed, his body tensing aside from his bucking hips. There was no end, your pussy clenching around him in response to his hand guiding your clitoral stimulation, in turn prolonging his own overwhelming pleasure. Before it became all too much, he let go of your hand and both dropped onto the mattress, utterly fucked out.

The room was quiet aside from your mutually heavy breathing and the rush of blood in your ears. You could feel Aaron softening inside you now as the two of you calmed down but you whined and grabbed hold of him when he tried to pull away.

“No, stay!”

“Honey, I’ll collapse on you, and I’ve gotta take care of the condom.” He said softly to which you scowled at him.

“Ugh, but I wanna cuddle.” You protested weakly. He smiled and kissed your forehead.

“You need to pee too, pretty girl.”

You only slightly hated that he was right about that. A few minutes later, with some water and some snacks you had in your go-bag, the two of you cuddled up to one another under the covers, still bare but cosy. Initially, Aaron had protested laying half on top of you as you requested, but quickly accepted it with a light-hearted laugh when you pulled him down onto you and wrapped your limbs around him. It felt natural, as though you’d always been together. And it filled you with butterflies.

You brushed your fingers through his messy, dark hair and studied the beauty of his face when he lifted his head up from your bust to look at you. The corner of your mouth twitched.

“D’you wanna, um, maybe go for coffee sometime?”

Aaron grinned.

“You’re asking me on a date?”

“Yeah, I didn’t want this to just be, y’know, sex.” You said softly. He pressed a kiss to your chest just below your collarbones lovingly.

“Neither do I. I’d love to go out for coffee with you.”

And you beamed at him, your cheeks tinted with a rosy glow.

The following morning you followed alongside Aaron to the hotel reception area to meet up with the others, eyes still a bit bleary as you blinked rapidly. The others were already waiting for you, it turned out and immediately your stride faltered when you saw the expression on their faces. Oh no.

“Well, well! There you two are!” Derek chortled and you wished the floor would swallow you whole. His eyes fixed on you and he grinned widely. “Hey bunny! Sleep well?”You stopped in your tracks, as did Aaron and he glanced back at you, meeting your eye. You were in for a very long flight home.

Jesus christ that was the longest fucking standalone fic ever. I hope yawl enjoyed it if you stuck around until the end here 😭😭 thank you so much for reading!!!

Tagged people: @tgskitten @hoffmanfan13

[shonen-brainrot]

Together - Bakugo x Reader (comfort)

masterlist

The soft light of early morning spills through the window, painting the bedroom in hues of gold and rose. You wake to the familiar weight of his arm draped across your waist, his breathing steady and deep, his face relaxed in a rare, peaceful expression. Katsuki Bakugo doesn’t look this calm often, not anymore. Not since the war.

You move carefully, not wanting to disturb him. But as you try to shift, his grip tightens ever so slightly. Even in sleep, his instincts are sharp. You glance over your shoulder, catching the way his jaw clenches, his brows furrowing in that familiar scowl even now.

You wonder if he’s dreaming of the battlefield again.

It’s been nearly 10 years since the dust of the final battle settled. The world has changed so much. The heroes are rebuilding, trying to restore what was lost. Bakugo’s name is whispered with reverence across the nation — Dynamight, the one who helped bring peace. But to you, he’s Katsuki. Your Katsuki, the boy who used to snarl at you for getting too close, and now, the man who can’t sleep without his hand resting on your skin, as if anchoring himself to something that isn’t the chaos.

You can tell when he’s having a bad day. He doesn’t talk about it — he never does — but the tension in his shoulders, the way his eyes cloud over, those signs are enough. You’ve learned to read him in ways no one else can. But you wish, sometimes, that he would share the weight he carries, that he’d let you into the storm raging in his mind.

“Katsuki,” you whisper, gently shifting to face him. The sound of his name from your lips, soft and tender, works like a tether. His eyes flutter open, and for a moment, they’re unfocused, still lost in the remnants of some distant war.

He blinks, and the sharpness returns. He’s here. With you.

“Morning,” he grumbles, his voice rough with sleep. His hand moves to your cheek, calloused fingers brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. It’s a small gesture, one that he doesn’t even seem to think about, but it sends warmth blooming in your chest. The touch is gentle — so unlike the explosive power in his hands when he’s out there saving the world. 

You lean into his touch, your eyes locking with his. The scars on his face are more prominent in the morning light, reminders of the battles you both fought to get here. But to you, they’re not marks of violence. They’re proof of his resilience, his strength, his will to survive and protect.

“You okay?” you ask softly, knowing the answer but asking anyway. 

He huffs, his typical response, but his thumb brushes against your cheek with a tenderness he doesn’t often let others see. “Tch. 'Course I am.”

You smile, but it’s tinged with concern. You know him better than that. You reach up, taking his hand in yours and pressing a kiss to his knuckles, feeling the small tremor that runs through him at the intimate gesture. His walls are strong, but they crumble for you, in moments like these, when the world feels far away and it's just the two of you, suspended in the quiet aftermath of everything.

“You don’t have to pretend, you know,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “Not with me.”

His eyes darken for a moment, the weight of your words sinking in. He shifts, sitting up in bed, running a hand through his messy blonde hair, which falls rebelliously across his face. He doesn’t respond right away. Bakugo’s never been good with words, not when it comes to things that matter most. But then, after a long pause, he sighs.

“It’s just…” He stops, jaw tightening. “It’s not over. Not for me.”

You reach out, gently brushing the hair out of his eyes, the same way he always does for you. The small act feels like an unspoken promise — that you’re here, that you always will be by his side.

“I know,” you say softly. “But you don’t have to go through it alone. I’m here, Katsuki. Always.”

His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the vulnerability there takes your breath away. He reaches for you, pulling you close, his face buried in the crook of your neck. It’s not an apology, not an admission of weakness. But in his silence, you find his answer.

You hold him, running your fingers through his hair, feeling his heartbeat slowly calm against yours. The world may never fully heal from the wounds left behind, but in this moment, here with him, you believe that you both will find a way to keep moving forward. Together.

[writer-by-the-sea]

hello!! may i request something fluffy where a touch starved elliott is visited by a farmer who can’t sleep and wants to cuddle with him? they’re not yet dating, but there’s EXTREME romantic tension between them

Slightly BARELY NSFT, No beta, no spell check lol

The storm raged outside, the lighting illuminating my cabin, each flash of light shortly accompanied by thunder that roared so loudly it shook my bed. I sighed and stared up at the ceiling, the rain beating down on the roof and providing me with the white noise I would normally crave; but now I laid there disturbed by the storm and sleep continues to evade me.

I let my thoughts slip to the farmer… Weeks ago they told me how they can’t have trouble sleeping through the night, that they were considering pills to help them through the night. I couldn’t help by wonder how they were fairing this night. Were they just as frustrated as I? Tossing and turning under the covers and considering giving up and waiting for the morning?

All I knew was that tomorrow would be a day with many cups of coffee, perhaps even an espresso or two.

I leaned over, reaching for my bedside lamp, flicking the switch with well rehearsed practice— only for the light to ignore me. I blinked at the light, tapping the switching again, and then once more..

“Lovely,” I mumbled and stood. The power was out.

Near my desk sat an oil lamp, one that I preferred to save for emergencies; I suppose this fell into that category. I considered what I would do with my time now, writing coming across my mind. Although, as of late, anything I’ve written has only been conveying my sappy and desperate need for the touch of another.

For far too long I’ve lived in this cabin alone. Something I thought I would enjoy, but I find myself feeling more and more lonely as each day passes. These days it’s gotten to the point where I find myself starved for attention. I wander around town more often than ever, finding excuses to see the others (mostly the farmer,) and I go on to bore them with tales of my unsuccessful writings.

With my lamp lit, I found my way back to my bed, my new plan for the night to reread over my pages and correct any mistakes I come across. Forever I will misspell at minimum ten words per page.

I may be a writer but I am no expert at spelling, ironic as it may be.

Just as I began to settle back in bed, there’s a knock at the door.

Unusual, but it wouldn’t be the first time Willy visited in the dead of the night. He might be in need of some snacks if he saw Sebastian earlier in the day, or asking for help to shovel rain water out of his shop again.

I groaned and slipped out of bed, now giving up on my plans and preparing myself for Willy’s visit. A night of fishermen’s stories and tellings of his childhood. Not that I minded it, but I would rather relax tonight..

The knocking came again, urging me to open it and let them in. Part of me was tempted to ignore it, to pretend to be sleeping and leave Willy on his own — as rude as it may be.

But then—

“Elliott?” A voice called from outside my door, helpless and scared.

I ran to the door, flinging it open to reveal the farmer standing there. Drenched from head to toe, but still smiling as I greeted them. “Oh my goodness!” I cried and stepped back, opening the door even further and ushered them inside. “You must be freezing! Please, come inside!”

The farmer quickly ducked in, wasting no time in kicking off their boots and closing the door behind them. “I’m sorry to drop by so late,” they began and removed their jacket. “I just—“

“Couldn’t sleep?” I asked and took their jacket. I hung it and then offered a towel.

They gave me a sheepish smile, nodding and accepting the towel. “Did I wake you?”

I waved them off. “No worries, I was awake. I couldn’t sleep either.”

“Is it okay if… I stay here a while?”

I could tell they were embarrassed to ask, scared even as they avoided my gaze. If not for the cold weather outside, I would think they were hiding heated cheeked. But that may have just been wishful thinking. “Of course!” I replied. “Stay as long as you like—“ I paused, looking over their drenched clothes and uncertain on how to phrase my next words. “Do you… perhaps need a change of clothes?”

The farmer looked down again, chewing their bottom lip and twisting their hands in front of themselves. “I don’t want to be a burden—“

“Nonsense!” I rushed to my dresser, plucking a few of my clothes out to present them. Mostly oversized clothing, things I haven’t worn in ages but I knew would be comfortable and warm. It would definitely be better than what they wore now, anyway. “Let me know if these are okay,” I said and handed the clothes over. “You can change in the bathroom if—“

“Thank you!” The farmer replied and took the offered clothing….

And then began to strip before me.

I gasped and spun around, heat flooding my cheeks from what I’d saw so little of. Soft, supple skin… A few minor scars across their body, no doubt from the farm and the mines… How I wished to turn back around and take them into my arms, to kiss every scar, to lick every curve, to worship and adore their body just as they deserved.

I held myself back, taking a breath and moving to my bed to readjust the blankets and pillows. I wasn’t sure what tonight would bring, I wanted to keep my hopes low but—

“You can turn back around.”

They stood there, my sweater hanging off one shoulder and my old pajama pants hanging low on their waist. “Sorry about that,” the farmer mumbled. “I was actually really cold and started changing without thinking.”

“It’s no problem.” I chuckled and took their wet clothes from them, moving to hang them in my bathroom. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.”

Once in the bathroom, I closed the door behind me. How could they look so adorable in my clothing….

I slowly hung their clothing, willing down the urge to run back out and pull the farmer into my arms. To compliment them on how cute they looked, to kiss across their exposed skin and slip my hands under the sweater they wore. To lead them into my bed and remove their borrowed clothing piece by piece—

“Fuck,” I whispered and stared down at the shirt I held. I forced myself to hang it up with everything else.

Tonight, the farmer came to me for a place to relax. For a place to hide out the storm. For a place they knew they could trust without a starving writers wandering hands all over their body. Their perfect, gorgeous, sexy, strong body.

I shook my head and stepped out of the bathroom, ready to chat with the farmer about the weather, about the night sky, about everything but my cravings to just touch them. But all of the words fell out of my mouth.

They laid in my bed, under the covers and flipping through one of my books from the library. The light of my lantern dancing across them, their beauty freezing me in place. A fantasy I’ve dreamt of a million times, only now I could do nothing. My breathing unsteady, the palms now sweaty, my throat dry and all words failing me as I let my eyes trail over them.

The farmer noticed me and scooted to the side of my bed, pushing themselves into the wall before patting the empty side. “It’ll be warmer under the covers,” was all they said before they looked back down at the book. A book that only detailed the secret to ‘writing an award willing novel.’ Something I knew they wouldn’t actually be interested in but…

I climbed into the bed and slid under the covers, biting my tongue when my leg brushed against their own. This couldn’t actually be happening, right? There was no storm outside and I was simply in a very deep sleep. If not for the warmth coming from the farmer, I may have actually believed I was dreaming…

The farmer leaned towards me, their head coming to rest on my shoulder, their book now closed and forgotten in their lap. I kept my eyes forward, my hands turning to fists as I let the weight of their head settle upon me. “This is nice,” they whispered and snuggled in a little further, one of their hands going to lap on my arm. “Do you mind?”

“No,” I muttered back, gulping as they shifted even closer, their arm now laying across my chest as they got more comfortable. “I— I don’t mind.”

My body felt like it was being doused in flames, feeling more aware than ever of everything around me. The rain coming back to my mind, softer than before as it fell across the roof, the thunder still rumbling outside but now miles away, the farmers hair as it brushed against my cheek, their arm as it laid over my fast beating heart, their thumb as it caressed my arm.

“I really appreciate you letting me come in tonight…” I could feel their breath across my neck, my body shivering as I let the feeling wash over me.

I took a breath, attempting to form the words. Their legs were on my own now, the farmer pulling me further into the bed and encouraging me to relax and our combined warmth made my eyes grow heavy.

“I’ve dreamt of this so many times,” I said, my voice a whisper as I finally gave me.

The farmer giggled, their laugh light and adorable… and bringing what I’d just said to light. “And? Is it everything you imagined?”

I sighed and wrapped one of my arms around them. “Even better.”

In the morning I would wake with the farmer still in my arms, their nose tucked into my neck and snoring softly. Our first night together that would become one of many.

[pluto-supremacy]

Vi Headcanons: dating f!reader at Stillwater

➼ Yes I am breaking my rule of no f!reader because I wanted to write for Vi so bad. So I'm gonna set a new precedent now: I'll write f!reader IF it is a wlw fic/headcanons/whatever. Though this is more of just a lil treat since the brainrot is rotting

➼ Might end up turning this into a full fic, if you want that let me know! (It did! Here's part two)

➼ No beta we die like Sky

➼ Warnings: None!

GIF does not belong to me! All credits to the owner

Whenever there is free time, Vi is at your side. You two usually find some corner away from the others to try and get away, pretend you two can have a moment to yourselves

She's always giving you her food, you don't even need to ask. She'll happily let you pick at her plate if you're still hungry or you haven't eaten in a while due to lockdown

You're lucky enough to only be two cells away from each other, you two often get in trouble for talking during lights out

If you're ever in trouble, Vi takes the beatings for you. She can and has thrown herself between you and a guard and is not afraid to do it again

Same obviously goes for inmates

"If you want to keep your tongue in your mouth, I suggest you leave her alone"

Though not many inmates mess with you considering your personal body guard of a girlfriend

If you're ever thrown into solitary, Vi goes crazy. Getting into more fights than usual, refusing food, even trying to break into solitary to be with you

If you want, she gives you both matching tattoos there with whatever device she can get her hands on. She lets you pick out the design and the placement

Anytime she gets clean clothes, bandages, and hygiene supplies (all of which are of course a rarity there), she uses them/gives them to you first. Bandages up any new cuts of yours or changes your dirty ones, gives you her new toothbrush and toothpaste, and so on. You'll have to fight her on at least sharing some of the items, like the new tube of toothpaste. She just wants to make sure you're taken care of

"Just scored a new hairbrush. Go ahead and take it, bun. Need to keep your hair brushed so I can play with it, yeah?"

Vi cuts your hair for you there and takes it super seriously. She's not gonna let you walk around with a shitty haircut

Though she did fuck it up once (or a few times, but they were smaller mistakes that were easy to hide)

To make up for that godawful haircut she gave herself a bad one too. It's just hair, after all, it grows back

She'll stand guard while you're showering. Make sure no one's gaze is lingering around on you. Also lets you shower first so if there is any hot water you'll get it

Vi is a portable bed for you. Whenever you're together and you want to rest, she'll try to find a quieter place and let you rest your head on her shoulder/in her lap. She plays with your hair while you're sleeping and checks your pulse every now and then. Just to make sure you're still there with her

Whenever you get sick there, she will make the biggest fuss to get you to medical. If that isn't an option Vi does her best to take care of you with the limited resources you both have

"Snuck a bit of that honey from breakfast. Try and cover your throat in that and don't worry about talking, okay Y/N?"

During bunk inspections, if you have any contraband, Vi takes it and hides it in her cell. She rarely ever gets caught with it, but she'd rather take the punches than have you on the receiving end of them

On the flipside Vi trades a lot of her own contraband to get things for you. Things like snacks, jewelry, hair dye, better clothes, anything other inmates have that you might want

Though if trading for those doesn't work, she will straight up steal them for you

When Caitlyn comes to release her for help with tracking down the stolen gemstone, she throws in a condition. An obvious one

"You're getting Y/N out too. That or you can try to find Silco on your own. Undercity is going to eat you alive without me"

And that's how you and your lover finally escape Stillwater

[buggybambi]

promise me? | carmen berzatto

rating: | cw: mentions of mikey’s death/funeral, a few timeskips, afab/fem!reader, angst/fluff content, unfinished ending i guess (i’m so down to write a part two if yall ask for it tbh)

nav post

request: “a more angsty idea would be that reader was dating Michael and no one knew she was pregnant when he died… so in order to avoid making their family sad/starting conflict, carmy agrees to pretend that they’re dating and it’s his kid? “

Since the funeral four months ago, your world had felt.. emptier.

Michael Berzatto was your everything. He was the boy in high school who threw rocks at your window, who climbed inside to make out with you on your bed until he fell asleep holding you close, only sneaking out to avoid your parents learning about his visits.

He was the guy who would make a big deal out of every small accomplishment. He was the person who you planned on spending the rest of your life with.

That was until everything happened. One phone call from the Chicago Police Department, and your entire view of the future had been shifted. There was one less person in it.

You didn’t talk to his family much anymore. His younger brother, Carmen, was the only person you really kept in touch with. You called Sugar every so often, and you’d send Donna a check-in text every week or so.

You knew Carmy was in New York, and he hadn’t come to the funeral. You weren’t expecting to see him again until he showed up on your doorstep.

The one thing he wasn’t expecting? You to open the door, tears in your eyes and a pregnancy test in your clenched hand.

“Hey, are you okay?” is the first thing Carmen says. He wraps his arms around you, trying to soothe you in anyway he can. A slight head shake from you and you taking a step back, holding the test out for him to see.

“I’m pregnant. The one person I should be able to tell.. isn’t fucking here.” Your soft voice breaks his heart. It’s the rush of realization that comes first.

The fact that, you’re pregnant with Mikey’s baby.

And Mikey is dead.

“Y/N, we can.. we’ll figure this out.” He promises in a whisper, and you shake your head, more tears streaming. “How?! How am I supposed to do this by myself?” You ask, and you fall into Carmen’s arms, crying on his shoulder. He could care less about the tear stains on his white tee.

If Mikey were here, if there was a way to talk to his dead brother right now, he know what he’d say: “take care of her. Take care of my baby for me.”

“You aren’t alone. You have me.” He swears.

It’s what his brother would want.

“Promise me?” You request quietly. And he nods, rubbing your back in soothing circles.

“I promise.” He repeats.

──

You knew bringing up the pregnancy to Mikey’s family would be.. rough. Sugar and Donna would be upset, with Donna resenting every choice you make.

It would be chaos. So, you kept it a secret, which was harder than it seemed.

You and Carmen had it planned out. To start “dating” two months later, and lie about the timeline of your pregnancy. No one had to know other than you two.

You and Carmen announced your pregnancy to the Berzatto clan three months later, seven months after Mikey died. All of it felt rushed and you found yourself having to force yourself to slow down.

Thankfully, though, Carmen was by your side through it all. Moving in with you and helping set up the nursery, which you made sure to send photos of to Natalie and Donna.

You were there for him when he took over the Beef. It was a while before you found the strength to go back there again, reminiscing on the times you spent in there with Mikey. Him flirting with you as you volunteered your time behind the counter.

Once you had, you found yourself in the same spot you were nearly a year ago. Laughing with Tina and Marcus, threatning jerks with Richie. Even making friends with the new chef, Sydney.

Carmen thought it was good for you. He found himself smiling in the back office as he heard your familiar, light laughter and calming voice.

“You were deeply missed!” Marcus says as he hugs you while you laugh. “So, how’s pregnancy going?” Tina asks as you sigh. “It is a bitch sometimes. But this little one will be worth it.”

“Can I just say.. thank you for bringing a smile to my brother’s face. Seriously. He hasn’t been this happy in a while.” Natalie says as you nod. “It isn’t just me. You guys play a huge part in that.”

“Yeah kid but none of us are having his baby.” Marcus points out. “I should hope not.” You reply, and that’s when the kitchen fills with laughter.

It felt like you were at home again. Carmen wasn’t the only one smiling again.

──

You stood in the nursery, your bump larger. It felt surreal to believe how far you’d come.

You were in your third trimester, 38 weeks pregnant. The nursery looked gorgeous, with a shelf close to the door holding photos from the maternity photoshoot you and Carmen did as well as sonograms pictures.

You wanted to memorialize Mikey in the room as well. A frame sits on the shelf near the sonogram, containing a photo of Natalie, Carmen and Mikey as kids.

You run a hand over Mikey’s spot in the photo, shaking your head and setting it on the shelf. “I remember the day that photo was taken. Mike hated that shirt. That was the only good photo that our mom decided to keep.” Natalie says, entering the room with a glass of water for you.

You accept it, only to nearly drop the glass when a tightening in your stomach forms. It’s at that moment you realize - your water broke, you’re having contractions and.. you’re in labor.

It’s a frenzy from there. Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion. You waddling-running out to the car, Natalie following behind with the bags while you begin calling Carmen’s phone repeatedly. Time feels like it’s slowed.

It isn’t until you’re at Chicago Medical and being wheeled down the hallway to your labor and delivery room that you realize two things:

1. You’re actually having this baby.

2. Mikey won’t be here to see it.

Some part of you, the part that hasn’t been hitten by the grief yet and the same part that won’t accept he’s gone, is now being hit with the grief. The realization he won’t just come into the room and come back into the room or your life again. It doesn’t rush over you, it drowns you instead.

Maybe it was just the pregnancy excitement and rush. Things hadn’t felt real since the funeral and now? Now they were forcing themselves to be accepted. Forcing you to realize that this is occuring.

It isn’t until you’re alone in the room that you allow the tears to break free. Your vision feels blurred as your heart aches for a man whose gone. One who isn’t here anymore and you can’t change that.

The sight that Carmy finds in the hospital room hurts his heart. It’s quiet, the beeping of monitors that are keeping an eye on your vitals, the baby’s vitals, contractions is the only noise filling the room. You’re seated upright, your eyes exhausted.

“Hi. How are you?” He asks softly as he walks over. He hesitantely puts a hand on your face to brush some of the hair away, and you allow it. You sigh, your face relaxing when he cradles your face like you’re the most precious thing.

“It hit me.” You say softly. “I let myself grieve for a week before his funeral, and then at least three afterward. And then I found out I was pregnant and I bottled it up because I couldn’t do it anymore. And now it hit me again. That I’m having his baby and he’s not going to get to meet him, or her.” Your fists clench at the anger of it.

There are five known stages of grief. Denial, anger, barganing, depression and acceptance. You were on the second stage: anger.

There’s nothing Carmen can say. No words to make it all better, he knows that from his own experience and people trying with him. So, instead, he stays quiet and he lets you get it out.

You exhale, laying back with his help as he props a pillow for you. “Thank you for being here.” You say softly as he takes your hand in his, entertwining your fingers. “I made a promise to be here with you through all of this.”

He intends to keep that promise.

──

‘Roan Michael Berzatto’. Eight pounds, six ounces. Born at 11:37 AM.

Most of the labor process felt like a blur. You remember crying, a lot, and Carmen holding your hand and letting you squeeze while you push, doctors and nurses overlapping each other as they speak to you. Sweat pooling on your forehead as a nurse wiped it away.

Roan looks like Mikey. He has his eyes, his nose, even the same small smile when he sleeps. It’s faint, but it’s there.

His entire hand wraps around Carmen’s pinky while he holds him. There’s a warm aura in the room, the sunlight filling the room perfectly.

You sit, watching them. Carmy walks over and sits beside you on the bed while he puts your son on his legs, as you look down at him. “He really does look like Mike.” You say softly, and Carmen laughs.

There’s a quiet in the air before he speaks again. “I love you.” He says softly. “I know maybe this isn’t the right time to tell you that, but I had to. We agreed to tell everyone this is our son and I want to keep that up, but I want more for us. I want you and I to.. be something more.”

You don’t say anything more, instead you lean over and press your lips against his, letting yourself embrace him. To take in what it feels like to kiss him, be this close to him.

Your world was suddenly full again.

[borathae]

“Jungkook gets anxious sometimes. And when that happens, he needs your affection more than anything.”

Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x f.Reader

Warnings: anxious Kook, tears, he sucks on her boobs but it’s not even an ounce of sexual

Wordcount: 1.3k

a/n: I couldn’t get the concept of Kookie sucking on her boobs for comfort out of my head so here it is. This is pure comfort and fluff. Also this is very sappy, because I reread some of their chapters and got sappy af about how far they’ve come :( have fun besties ❤

Jungkook worked really late today. So late in fact, that you were already asleep when he came home. You often are with his schedule. You really hate those days. They leave him stressed, tired and sometimes even anxious. And there is no thing on earth you despise more than knowing that your Bunny had a bad day. You already hated it back when you still pretended that he was nothing more than business and you especially hate it these days as his loving wife. It makes you want to protect him from everything and everyone. You want to set the whole world on fire whenever he is feeling cold. You want to darken the sun whenever his eyes hurt because of it. And you would especially love to demolish his company whenever he had a bad day because of it. Truly, if anything or anyone bothered your Jungkookie in any kind of way, your desire for protective violence is raging. 

So when a weak hand shakes you awake that night, followed by a little sniffle, you jolt up ready to fight the world. Not that one can see that you are, as your eyes open comically slowly in sleepiness. But you really are ready to fight the world.

Jungkook is barely visible in the darkness, only the weak shine of his nightlight illuminates him. He uses the light whenever you are sleeping already to find his way to bed and then apply lip balm and hand cream. Tonight it seems that he is using it to see you as well. 

He is pouting. His eyes are puffy and wet from tears and his nose is runny too. 

"What's wrong?" you ask him with a terribly croaky voice, courtesy to the deep sleep you previously had found yourself in. 

"Anxiety attack", he gets out and whimpers, "I, I can’t get it to s-stop."

"I'm here, I’m right here", you are wide awake instantly, propping yourself up on your elbow to scoot closer and kiss his cheek, "I'm right here, Bunny. You’re safe now." 

Jungkook nods his head, chasing your closeness with his trembling fingers twisting the front of your shirt. He’s safe now. Nothing can hurt him anymore because he has you to protect him now.

"I threw up", he confesses and sobs softly, "in, in t-the office. I, I had an attack and, and then I, I threw up b-because it, it was so strong. A-and now I, I can’t get it to, to stop."

"Oh no, I’m so sorry", you gasp, cradling him against your chest, "I fucking hate that you had to. This is the worst fucking feeling. Fuck, my Bunny", you hug him closer, burying your fingers in his hair, "I'm here now. Do you hear me? You’re not alone anymore."

"I really wanted to b-be in your arms, but you were in the exam so I, I didn’t call", he says, shivering like crazy.

"God no, my Bunny", you feel yourself tear up in guilt. Jungkook needed you and you weren’t there for him, "I'm so sorry. I feel so awful. Please call me next time. No matter where I am, you’ll always be the most important priority to me and I'll always come to help." 

Jungkook sobs gratefully. He really needed that reassurance. He didn’t want to call you today, not because he thought that you would be angry, but because he didn’t want to disturb you. He wants you to be able to live your life and for you to be able to experience things like exams and college classes because you never got that when you were younger. And that’s why he didn’t call. Because he didn’t want to be the stupid reason why you had to miss out on such experiences. 

But his anxiety has tortured him to the point where there was almost nothing left of him. And all Jungkook needed was to hear you reassure him that he will always have a shoulder to lean on with you. He needed to hear it. He never stopped believing it, but he still needed to hear it.

He feels better already now that he is resting in your arms and has your gentle touch soothing him. The painful lump in his throat is gone and those everlasting heart palpitations are calming down as well.

"I'm so sorry, my Bunny. I seriously feel awful", you whisper, kissing the shell of his ear softly. 

Jungkook tilts his head up upon hearing the guilt in your voice and feeling the distinct sensation of your tears hitting his skin. Just as he had feared. You are crying, looking so guilty.

"It's not your fault. It’s okay", he whispers, "I love you so much."

"I love you too", you breathe, cupping his cheek, "I'll fight the fucking world to keep you safe" you add, running your thumb over his cheekbone.

Jungkook feels so unworthy of your love sometimes. It’s moments like these that make him feel like this. Moments where he realises that someone like you – someone who spent most of her life fighting for herself with no other person in mind – chooses to fight for him over and over and over again. You chose him. Chose him even if that meant stepping out of your comfort zone. Chose him even if that meant handing over some of your control to which you so obsessively clung to. You fucking chose him. As your family, partner and human for life. And Jungkook will never ever take that for granted. 

"Please don’t fight it, you'll only hurt yourself", he whispers, making you laugh quietly.

"I'll be careful, promise."

Jungkook feels better now that he heard your laugh. His desire to flee from unknown danger ceases to exist and he doesn’t feel so broken anymore.

"I adore you so much", he whispers.

"I adore you too", you tell him, leaning down to kiss his cheek, "my Bunny."

Overwhelmed by his emotions, Jungkook seeks you out, nose brushing against your breasts and fingers traveling to your chest. He hopes that you will understand for he feels too weak to speak.

You rest back on your pillow. Knowing very well what his gesture means, you unbutton your shirt wordlessly. You open it until the button where he can comfortably reach your breasts.

"Thank you", he presses out and whimpers, cupping your right breast to guide your nipple to his lips. He whimpers again as he takes you inside, body growing limp in comfort and shivers finally stopping entirely. 

Jungkook does this often when he needs true comfort. When his day was hard and his mental health was bad, all he truly needed was to be close to you. And on those really exhausting days, all that really helped was being able to suck on your breasts. He saw nothing sexual in the act during those moments and neither did you. It felt nurturing, comforting and safe. For both of you. For Jungkook because he was finally in your safe arms again and the gentle motion of sucking soothed him. And for you because you finally had the reassurance that your Jungkookie was safe and the warmth of his mouth relaxed you. 

You never ended up having sex because of those moments. Not even once. This act, while perhaps sexual during other situations, was of the most intimate and vulnerable nature and leaves the both of you oh so much more connected. Jungkook also feels no ounce of anxiety when he can suck on your nipples. Whatever painful feelings kept him hostage before, they all instantly disappear the second he begins kissing and sucking your breasts. 

Tonight is no different. Jungkook sucks on your breasts until he feels too sleepy to continue and you massage his scalp until your tired fingers stop working. Jungkook falls asleep just a little bit sooner than you. Reassured that he was finally at peace, you give in to the tiredness and fall asleep seconds later. And together you will forget about the world outside your windows, because all that truly matters was being in each other’s arms.

[findafight]

Oh my god!!! That Steve/baby sister fic!!! If you ever want to build it out more I’d be obsessed (ie the party + extended party’s reactions, hop + Joyce and how everyone pitches in)

╰⁠(⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠´⁠꒳⁠`⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠)⁠╯ awwww anon!!!!!

Honestly I have been thinking about it and I know I put in the tags of the original post, buuuut. Robin called Steve Bud or Buddy which morphed into Bubba when they are being particularly soft with each other, and the baby (who I am possibly leaning towards calling Tina so her nickname can be Tintin because it's cute idk) picks up on it so calls Steve her Bubba. Also because "he's my big brother" can sort of become "he's my Bubba!" If words are smushed together by baby babble

But before all that, Steve (who walked to work that day because he didn't have a baby car seat yet and wasn't going to leave his baby sister whom he always wanted and loves so dearly already ALONE or worse. With their FATHER.) goes to, of all people, Mrs. Wheeler for help. He'd go to Joyce but she's working and Karen Wheeler has the youngest kid he knows so is the best bet for maybe getting some tips and also maybe a carrier because the bjorn isn't going to cut it for long. So he goes and Mr. Wheeler immediately thinks Steve's Accidental Baby Acquisition is due to Steve's own recklessness. (Steve is a prolific lover, sure, but he's smart and safe about it! When he was thirteen his dad sat him down for a talk about not wanting the disgrace of a shotgun wedding and his grandpa gave him a run down of venereal diseases he saw (didn't mention having but. Well.) His pals have in WWII that put the fear of God in him regarding unsafe sex. Moreso than the potential babies. So. He's always very careful. For this very reason!! Except apparently his dad didn't use his own advice but Steve isn't complaining because, once again, he always wanted a little sibling.)

Anyways the wheelers are like ohhhh a Harrington Scandal not involving the boy our daughter dated? Okay sure here's Holly's old baby carseat. Hopper is just. He's like. I thought Steve and that kid I kept giving warnings to about selling dope to were a thing and Steve is like "will people stop assuming she's mine!! I know I am a bit of a slut but I am terrified of chlamydia!!! And even if this WAS my fault (which it is not and also she's a gift I love you little baby sister you're the light of my life) I am taking responsibility for it so maybe we all need to be a little less judgy hmmm??"

Joyce and Karen give him some hand me down baby clothes and books, some good tips about feeding and burping and things like that, and Claudia and Sue offer to come passive aggressively congratulate Steve's dad.

Dustin is a little jealous because this Steve Time is going to be encroached upon by This Literal Infant but Steve is like Dustin... you are my Little Brother... My silly pal...Now you have a sister too!! 🥰 And Dustin is like Oh Shit That's Right and proceeds to try to teach this Literal Infant, it cannot be stressed enough that she is a few months old and cannot stay sitting up by herself, how to build a radio.

Eddie is just trying to not have a heart attack from the concentration of Pure Longing activated by seeing Steve With A Baby and has also been forbidden from playing anything loud near them. He is fine and deals with this by writing ballads that make Gareth gag from their sweetness and Jeff have a very knowingly indulgent look when he sees the lyrics. But Gareth lets he hit his drums with he baby hands and Jeff pretends she stole his nose so they aren't that put out by it.

El is Fascinated by the tiny human and asks lots of questions and wants to play with her, give her experiences of softness and kindness right off the bat she knew she herself was denied, so she's often the official baby holder when Steve needs to do something when the Party is around.

The rest of the party is pretty meh on the baby. Sure it's exciting at first but she just kinda becomes part of regular life. They take turns doing actual babysitting for Steve so he can work or run errands or even, gasp, have some normal early adult fun times, but it's all pretty regular. Erica is glad she's not the party baby anymore.

They do however probably secretly fight over who gets to be baby's godparent. Steve isn't allowed to know.

[peachsayshi]

CORNFLOWER

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ toji fushiguro x female reader ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ 

wc: 1,269

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

notes: you can probably expect to see me write for toji more often & honestly I am happy staying on the fluffy train when it comes to my faves ^.^  this is a piece that crossed my mind -  I titled it Cornflower because it was inspired by a song, and I also found out that the flowers represents tenderness, fidelity and reliability 🥺👉👈 

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: fluff; alludes to smut; intimate touching; sleepy toji; implied size difference, age gap. 

Toji’s soft breath fluttered against your neck at a steady pace. The ticklish sensation caused you to nuzzle your chin into the fluff of his hair while you cradled the back of his head in your hands. With one leg thrown over him, you pressed your heel deep into his back to tug him even closer into your smaller frame. 

A low, deep hum escaped your lover. He removed his arm from underneath the pillow and slipped it beneath your torso instead while circling the other around your waist. 

You blinked your eyes open, feeling his strength wrap around you in a warm embrace.

“You fell asleep,” he whispered into your skin, the husky tone of his voice sending a tingle up your spine. 

“Can’t help it,” you murmured back with a yawn as you lightly scratched his scalp, “you’re cozy.” 

Toji chuckled, leaving a small kiss just over your collar bone. “Is that why you’re clinging onto me like a koala bear?” 

“Maybe...” you sheepishly replied then tucked your bottom lip between your teeth to stop yourself from grinning foolishly. “You’re also keeping me warm...ah-” 

A quiet gasp escaped you when you felt him nip at the base of your neck and you curled your fingers around the strands of his dark hair in response. 

“I had you feeling a lot warmer not too long ago,” he cheekily pointed out. 

Your thighs instinctively clenched around him when he slowly began to unravel from your limbs. The slight distance was enough for you to feel a sudden chill, and your stomach twisted with discomfort as Toji readjusted himself. 

Two hands returned to meet your hips and with ease he dragged you down the mattress so you were seeing him eye to eye, taking in how his green irises twinkled against the warm light creeping through the blinds. You hooked your index finger around a lock of his hair and twirled it mindlessly while contemplating if it was first thing in the morning or late in the afternoon. 

You’ve been cooped up in his small apartment over the last forty eight hours, nesting together in isolation. Weekends like this have been happening more frequently, and you both preferred stealing the other’s precious time while pretending that the outside world ceased to exist. 

This level of intimacy is a nice change of pace in the dynamics of your blooming relationship, because moments like this didn’t even seem possible with Toji at one point. 

From the moment you met the man, who was older with an entirely different set of experiences than your own, you felt more excitement from his gaze alone than you did with anything your past lovers have ever given to you.

For Toji, you were a pretty glimmer shining through the darkness of his own reality, and you tempted him enough to pursue you so that he can bask in your alluring light.

He was rough around the edges when you first met, and maintained that front until you managed to seep through the hidden cracks. Underneath this hard shell of a man was a gooey center of a sweet human. When his heart melted between your fingers, you gathered it up and swallowed it down your throat like it was made of honey. 

“C’mere”, he mumbled, searching for your waist once more and the simple contact prompted you to sigh as he interrupted the silence. 

You were flush against his chest, your arms circling to find his neck as you bumped the tip of your nose onto his. You could feel his hands playing with hem of your cropped tank then lightly tracking down your lower back as he reached for the curve of your naked rear. 

“Want to get up yet?” he questioned, not shying away from an opportunity to grope you beneath the sheets. 

You immediately shook your head no, refusing to make any space from the blanket of affection surrounding you. You moved to cup his angular jaw in your palms, then leaned forward to press your mouth against his. He smiled into the kiss, allowing the first one to be chaste before parting his lips and granting you access to slide your tongue along his own. A few moments passed with you intertwined just like this, the only sounds you can hear were your smacking lips echoing in his quiet bedroom. 

He placed a feather light kiss on your cupid’s bow. “I need...” he exhaled when trying to catch his breath, “to get a bigger bed.”

You traced your thumb down the line of his scar noticing the way your pulse tripped over itself. These passing statements were simply more declarations of his love for you. He kept gifting them to you in doses, each one more potent than the last and making your head spin around in circles.

"There’s an extra toothbrush set for you in the bathroom,” he nonchalantly stated one evening, “I figured you might need one since you’ve been spending  most nights with me anyway...” 

When you both were in the shower washing off another night of making love, you randomly asked about the vibrant pink body wash that oddly stood out next to his own. Toji simply replied: “I thought you might be getting tired of smelling like me all the time...” 

One afternoon you mindlessly mentioned that you were craving your favorite snack, and Toji immediately pointed out that “you can find them in the pantry” because he “bought them in bulk.” 

This man who ensured to always keep you away at an arm’s length was now carving out his life to make room for you. 

You swallowed the tight lump that formed in your throat. 

“You don’t like me snuggled up on you like this?” you teased with a pout, trying your best not to allow the weight of his sentence to overwhelm you. 

In one swift motion he had you pinned underneath, the bed springs squeaking loudly from the shift of his heavy weight. “Don’t twist my words around, doll...” he sweetly scolded between a kiss while allowing his body to press you deeper into the mattress. “You know I prefer being closer than even this...” 

You giggled then lightly traced your knuckles along his cheek, “what kind of bed were you thinking of?” 

He shrugged his shoulders, “something big enough for two. We can go take a look next week...” 

“We?”

“Wouldn’t mind hearing your opinion is all...” 

You unknowingly held in your breath, the seconds passing by as your pulse grew even louder when your heart thumped wildly in your chest. 

“So, if you’re thinking of getting a bigger bed, then you’re probably going to need another mattress...” 

“Yep.”

“And maybe...new bed sheets, that might take us a while to shop around for....”

“I guess we'll have to make a weekend of it then,” Toji acknowledged. 

You can’t deny that you had your doubts in the early days of your relationship, but right now it was hard to even justify why the two of you constantly found excuses to fight off your feelings towards each other. Despite your efforts, you both always had a reason to come back to one another.  

You combed back his hair, keeping it away from his face to reveal his handsome features. You angled yourself high enough to kiss his forehead in agreement, and pulled your mind back from considering the future and settling yourself into the present moment. 

You realized that loving Toji is not as difficult as you initially perceived.

As a matter a fact, it all felt quite natural like it was always meant to be. 

[astrophileous]

what song would derek & bug dance to at their wedding? (very important question)

OKAY this became a lil bit too self-indulgent lmaoooo akjdjsjd but I grew up listening to James Ingram (his CD was like one of the only three that we had in our car when I was in elementary school, so I'd listen to him almost 24/7), and my hc is that Derek listens to some of his songs too. But particularly "Let Me Love You This Way" by James Ingram, he'd hum that song to Bug ALL THE TIME, long before Bug knows his true implications, and that's the song that ends up playing at the wedding. He'd quietly hum the words to Bug on their first dance as well (BECAUSE THE LYRICS FIT THE SITUATION SO WELL????)

and I know that I didn't have to turn this into a blurb, but I HAD THE IDEA AND I JUST CAN'T NOT WRITE IT OKAY

BTW WARNING(S): NO NSFW SCENES BUT THERE'S A BRIEF NSFW TALK SO MINORS BE ADVISED

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

The first time you heard him hum the song, it had been in the safety of your office in Quantico.

The floor was dead and quiet as you walked, safe from the gentle light coming from one corner of the bullpen. You walked through the glass door to see that most of your coworkers had vacanted the place, except for one familiar figure sitting behind his desk in the corner.

As you approached Derek with cautious steps, you finally heard the first rumble of his deep voice.

"Tonight I look at you and you're so beautiful. There's so many things I want to say."

Your footsteps ceased when you realized that Derek was singing.

You had never heard him sing before.

An eternity must have passed before you finally found a voice to call out to him, "Derek?"

The man in question nearly jumped out of his seat. When he turned and found you standing behind him, his posture relaxed. "Jesus, Bug. You fucking scared me. I thought I was alone."

"Sorry. I just stopped by to get some files." You smiled sheepishly. Underneath the dimmed lighting, you studied Derek for a moment, your voice laden with wonder when you said, "I didn't know you sing."

Derek looked up from his paperworks with a frown.

"You were singing just now when I walked in. It was beautiful." You felt abashed at the admission, hoping that the profiler in Derek was too tired to notice. "I didn't recognize the song."

"It's James Ingram."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. You familiar?"

"I know the man, but I don't really listen to him," you told Derek truthfully. "What's it called?"

"Let Me Love You This Way," Derek answered with such an urgency, reciting the words like a sacred confession instead of a song title until you nearly gasped for air. "It's been stuck in my mind lately."

After that one fateful night, Derek found himself humming the lyrics to the song much more often than he would have ever expected.

"Wish I could show you now, how far I'd go just to prove my love will never fade."

Derek was humming those same lyrics when you finally opened your eyes. When he saw that you were awake, he immediately grew silent.

"Derek?" you called out groggily. "Why are you awake?"

"I couldn't sleep," he answered, kissing your knuckles for good measure.

"What time is it?"

"Almost five."

Your stomach plummeted.

This was the part you hated the most about this arrangement; having to say goodbye to Derek at 5 AM every single day to avoid suspicion from your fellow teammates, only to see him again in the hotel lobby a couple of hours later, having to pretend as if the man didn't just spend an entire night warming your bed.

"Can you stay?" You were almost scared to ask. "Just five more minutes."

"Okay." Derek looked like he didn't even give it a second thought. "Five more minutes."

"I'd steal the stars above. But that would still not be enough, of what I need to let you know."

"Why does this song sound so familiar?"

Derek glanced towards the passenger's seat--to where you were sitting, your baby bump showing underneath the shirt you were wearing, so pretty and beautiful in his eyes--before quickly focusing his attention back on the road ahead. He had been humming the lyrics under his breath since the song came on, unaware of the curious ears sitting next to him.

"I used to sing this song to you all the time," Derek admitted.

He saw you whip your head dramatically from the corner of his eye.

"Wait. What? When? When is this? Why didn't I know about this? You sang it to me?"

Derek chuckled at your animated reaction.

"Before Iowa--" he started, pulling your memories back towards the dramatic downfall that had now become a forgettable chapter of the past, "--every time I had to leave in the morning, I'd take a few minutes to just sit and... stare at you. And when I did, this song would come to mind."

"So you sang it to me?!"

"I did, yeah."

When a full minute passed by without another response from you, Derek glanced over in a mixture of concern and confusion. "Bug?"

"Derek, step on the gas."

"What?"

"Step on the gas," you repeated, this time with a piercing gaze that you threw persistently against Derek's face.

"Why?"

"Because I feel like I'm about to go nuts if I don't get to fuck you in the next three minutes."

Derek might have gotten a few speeding tickets that night, but damn if it wasn't worth it.

Ever since Derek's admission that night, you began to routinely demand him to play the song almost every single day. More often than not, you would even force him to sing it for you.

"Let me love you this way, by never letting go until my dying day."

On your wedding day, you had your first dance to the song.

Derek's arms were snug on your body, holding onto you like he was afraid to let go even though you had just promised him your forever a few hours prior. Your right hand was secured tightly inside his left one, pressing against his chest, guarding the steady thumping of Derek's heart.

"Look at your son," you had whispered to him in the middle of your swaying.

Derek's eyes followed the direction of your gaze, to the 2-year old who was being coddled by his aunts and uncles. The two of you broke into synchronized laughter when your son began climbing a flustered Spencer's leg.

"He's perfect," Derek muttered, almost in awe. "So are you, Bug. Everything's perfect."

You smiled at his words before leaning in closer to kiss his lips. Just as you were about to pull away, Derek chased your lips a little desperately, deepening the kiss as his warm hands cupped your face.

"I love you," he breathed once you parted for air.

You smiled and kissed his thumb. "I love you, Derek."

With that, Derek's arms returned around your body, tugging you closer, trying to feel you better. As you began to sway once more to the song, Derek's lips went to your hairline, humming along to the lyrics like it was second nature.

"Let me love you this way, by staying near your side. Always."

[setsugekka]

『atarashī 』 ; 01

❝ birthday blues ❞ | mlist ｡

student!hongjoong x fem!reader, husband!yeosang x fem!reader — drama, dark romance, mystery, heavy sexual content [4,4k wc] ch cws: unprotected car sex, marital argument, general drama and angst because things suck.

"Happy birthday!"

The sound of bottles popping, your friends, family and colleagues cheering for you in celebration of another milestone—not as pleasant as some of the others, you've got to admit.

What's so happy about it?

Lackluster marriage, uninspiring job, nothing in particular that gives you reason to wake up bright eyed and ready for the day ahead of you each morning. Still, you force a smile; thank everyone for coming out and take a sip of champagne as pressed into your hands by your adoring and well-meaning husband.

"At least try to pretend you're having fun," he says, a murmur kept between the two of you only. "I've got to catch a flight soon, let's have a good end to the evening before I do."

You look up from the floor and towards Yeosang—suit pressed to perfection and long, wavy hair that you remember once upon a time really liking on him—it's not that you don't like it now, it's just that you have a hard time finding joy in much of anything nowadays.

"I am, I'm happy," you lie with a smile, and knowing perfectly well that he knows as much. Your husband won't argue with you on the fact, though. Maybe a few years ago, but not now. "I love you, thank you for putting this together."

"How does it feel to be thirty?" he asks with a glass pressed to his lips, the both of you standing off to the side and gazing out towards the crowd of people—all there for you.

Horrible, terrifying, boring, uneventful. Nothing. All at once, though you don't particularly want to answer with even one of them, so, you don't.

"The same." Not a lie, not really.

"Shall we go celebrate it then? Make it a little bit more special?" Yeosang's lips curl upwards, something mischievous. Birthmark on full display, you're happy that he didn't cover it up tonight—a small gift from him to you.

And you know precisely what he is intending by that. You want to shrug, but it's not the best answer to such a proposition.

Down the stairs and towards the car park the two of you go.

It's late enough in the evening that the garage is largely empty—a rented out office space used for your birthday party and long after hours for the majority of the employees that might otherwise be traversing the grounds. You're thankful for that, with the fog that has now collected upon the windows of your husband's luxury vehicle.

Yeosang's fingers are tightly planted into the flesh of your hips, mouths frequently finding one another in sloppy, poorly-attempted kisses as you grind your hips down against his lap in the backseat of his car. Certainly time better spent than upstairs, easier to forget about all of the things that you hate to acknowledge about this evening—about your life.

"Will you miss me?" he asks in a groan, pulling you down harder against him as best as he can. "I'm going to miss you."

You kiss him again, more intent behind this one than the others, because you will. Yeosang is often gone, it's been like this for years, and while you've mostly become accustomed to sleeping alone in your marital bed, there still lies within it a pang of displeasure that you've long since given up on voicing—having learned years prior that doing so will get you nowhere as far as his time spent home with you.

"Of course I will, I always do."

As if aroused by that fact alone, Yeosang's earnest grip firms even more, drags you along his length faster and with a goal in mind as his lips travel down from yours and instead go to work nipping and sucking small, light marks into the flesh of your neck just below. An airy moan escapes you, whispering to him that you're close, not to stop, that you love him; and Yeosang demands for you to come for him upon feeling the fact that you're reaching the precipice of doing so.

When you do, it's with fingers woven into his long, dark hair and his quiet chant against your skin that comes out as nothing but praise. Yeosang comes shortly thereafter—deep inside of you and with a contented sigh following.

Leaning back ever so slightly, you press a chaste kiss to his lips, and he smiles as a result of it.

"You're going to have to go back inside with quite a parting gift from me," he says, coyly referring to the mess left between your legs.

You frown. "You aren't coming back upstairs with me to say goodbye?"

"I just said goodbye," he answers. You can parse through it well enough a hint of contention despite his attempt in concealing it. Like he's anticipating a fight coming.

Lips straightening thin, you sigh and begin removing yourself from his lap—readjusting your undergarments and skirt in preparation for your walk of shame back up to the party. You don't want this to turn into a fight, not that it would be the first time in relation to situations such as this one.

Yeosang must notice the change in your demeanor in spite of your attempt to conceal it, because he lets out a similarly exasperated sigh; like it's a competition to see which one of you can be more disgruntled by the outcome of this particular happening.

"Don't be like that," he says. "Come on, do you really want to ruin tonight? On your birthday?"

On your birthday, as if that's meant to be some sort of bargaining chip from him to you. As if it's his party, his night, and you're harshing his good time.

"I didn't say anything, if you have to go then you have to go."

"Yeah, I do, so why are you acting like this? Do we have to do this every single time?"

You look back at him from over your shoulder, hand gripping the handle of the door and more than ready to escape the confines of his car now. Suffocating inside of it.

"I've long since given up trying to fight with you about this stuff. About having you around more, about you being more present. I've very much come to terms with the fact that you will come and go as you please, and that I have no other option than to shut up and deal with it."

"And I'm sure you hate the nice apartment, the nice car, the extra funding for the theater and ample, unchecked spending money that comes as a result of my lack of presence."

A couple of beats of silence pass between the two of you after that, you sigh first, then open the door and kick your feet out in order to begin your exit.

"It's not about the money, Yeosang. Not everything is about the money."

You watch him chuckle under his breath, as if the whole thing is exhaustingly comical to him. It probably is, because you've had this very same conversation so many times before. You're finding just as little joy in it as he is, and can't help but wonder if he has even considered as much.

Tucking himself back inside of his pants and tending to the buckle, he glances over at you.

"If you want me around more then we can move into one of the old storage rooms of the theater, clear out some space among the scrap wood and fabrics. Wouldn't that be nice?"

The sarcasm in his voice goes none appreciated by you, and as you stare it him quietly for a few moments’ time, you make peace with the fact that this conversation, like all others—is going nowhere useful.

"Have a good trip."

The car door shuts with an unintentional, but resoundingly loud bang.

You hope for a quiet re-entry, that no one has noticed you're gone or makes any assumptions about why that is. From behind the large door leading inside, you take a deep breath; center yourself so that you can put on a good enough mask, so that no one has to ask what's wrong.

It's been so long that you've been going back and forth with Yeosang about this, part of you is shocked that you even still have the capacity to feel about it at all.

The door pulls open, and with one step inside, your best friend is found awaiting your presence—perched steadfast right beside the opening and with two drinks in hand.

"Welcome back."

There's a particular look of knowing on Seonghwa's face as he says it—which makes sense, all things considered—and you take the glass from him that he gently extends towards you. A large sip follows in the silence that hangs between you, gazing out at the party while it carries on without you.

You can feel the reluctance wafting off of him from beside you, but with it comes the need to address the elephant in the room. There's no escaping this conversation, much like so many others.

"Yeosang left?"

"Flight to catch."

"Ah," he replies, simple enough. Takes a sip to cut the tension a little bit. "Well, it's the beginning of the school year, that's something to look forward to, isn't it?"

You hum, a nod accompanying it. "I've still got some loose ends to tie up before we start letting students into the theater, there's a leaky pipe backstage that I'm going to have to deal with before it becomes a much larger issue, but beyond that I'm mostly ready to have the place crawling with the usual artistic types. They're nice, sort of a joy to have around with how bright-eyed they are in comparison to me."

A chuckle carries from you at the tail end of the sentence, Seonghwa smiles at it, understands that it's part of the mask.

"Have you ever thought of giving the place up? Moving out of the city with Yeosang somewhere and just...settling down? I can't imagine you need the place all that much considering the hefty inheritance you were left."

You shrug, lifeless.

"We spent a lot of it on the wedding, another lot of it on the apartment—besides, it's the only thing I've really got left from my family. Hard to let go of such an heirloom, ya know? Besides, it keeps me busy when Yeosang is gone."

"Which is most of the time."

"Yeah."

Seonghwa kicks back the remaining liquid in his glass, you follow suit. He nudges towards the balcony as a silent request for him to follow you and you do so without so much as a question. The air is more brisk but clearer up here—far better than the outdoors of a stuffy parking garage.

You watch him take out a cigarette, playfully grimace at the sight of it as he lights it, but he only goes as far as to flash you a look that says don't bother with the dramatics.

"Is this just how it's going to be forever then?" Seonghwa asks plainly, curt. Like now that you're outside he's able to speak freely on the matter in a way that he couldn't before. "Your husband is always gone, you spend all your time tending to a bunch of uni students and a century year old theater hall? That's everything?"

You find yourself wondering much of the same.

He takes a drag of his cigarette before starting up again. "I know you gave up a lot to be with this guy, and I know you love him, but is this what you wanted? Can you live the rest of your life like this?"

"Hwa," you groan, a hand in the air to swat away the smoke that travels towards you, though that's far from the thing that irritates you the most about this interaction. "It's not like that. It's tough now but Yeosang's on track to retire early, and it'll all be worth it then."

"Yeah, if you two make it to then."

That makes you reel, a look of slight disgust towards him for so much as suggesting such a thing, and while Seonghwa tends to be steadfast in his approach, even he is willing to resign himself to perhaps going too far with this one.

"Look, all I'm saying is that this is far from the first time we've had nights like this. I know you want to be happy, but wanting to be happy and actually being happy are two vastly different things, and I worry about how long you're willing to stick it out through the misery in hopes that there's a light at the end of the tunnel. I mean, you already resent him for being absent so much."

That is true.

A strong exhale escapes you and you motion towards your friend for him to give you something. He understands it well enough—hands you his cigarette which you quickly drag from and give right back—make a face of regret at the taste and smell.

"What do you suggest then?" you ask, though not actually expecting to receive anything of merit in doing so. "Divorce my husband, move out of the city, take a two hour commute there and back everyday just so that I can clean up scraps left by the thespian kids?"

"You should tell them to clean up after themselves for one, they're all adults," Seonghwa says seriously. "But no, I'm not suggesting that. I know you won't, though people certainly do have a funny way of creating excitement in their lives where complacency otherwise resides and it is not often felt without its fair share of problems alongside."

"There isn't really any excitement to create," you insist lazily, motioning towards the door to head back inside once and for all. "But who knows, maybe this year one of the classes will do something especially fun, like West Side Story. I like West Side Story."

"Alright everyone, gather 'round!"

The voice comes through loud and somewhat shrill from somewhere in the crowd of people that you can't quite place. It's difficult to pinpoint who, exactly, says what over the murmur of sounds from a large grouping of students as they look at their new surroundings and talk amongst themselves about all of the hopes they anticipate to have play out within these walls over the next however many years that they partake in their programs.

From aspiring actors, to writers, to costume designers—a plethora of students that wish to watch their dreams come alive before them and among their peers with similar goals—for some it might be their first year embarking on such a journey, and for others, somewhere between the middle and end.

Aurelia Hall; renowned amongst many for the years upon years of stunning architecture and plethora of talents that have come and gone from these numerous hallways and stage setups. A reputation to produce only the best—that studying at the Akademiya far from the goal, and rather—it is the ability to be blessed by Aurelia in doing so that has so many hopefuls shuffling in their applications to attend the school.

There is no magic here; though the way in which people speak of it might have one thinking otherwise. If you study at Aurelia, success is sure to find you. Words that you've heard spoken between students over so many years that you've found yourself mouthing along in silence to them.

A gentle laugh to yourself, where is your success then?

So you stand with arms crossed at the very back end of the main theater as everyone says their introductions and puts on something of a performance in doing so. It comes naturally to most, you can imagine; a small pleasure coming from the fact that the group of students appears to be smaller this year despite a mixture of all levels as it always is. First years and fourth years all mingling on the first day as if it's the schoolyard playground.

You smile ever so slightly, until you feel the presence of another body coming up just behind.

"Can I speak to you for a moment?"

One of the professors from some class, you've hardly been able to keep track despite the year after year that you meet them and pretend to remember from the last. Hardly your fault, that's what you tell yourself at least, on account of the fact that this is very likely to be the last time that you speak to this person until the year after this one.

The staff make themselves seldom known within the halls—their craft largely gifted to the students under their care within the walls of the Akademiya, then the underlings are released unto the care of you—something to that effect. A student body comprised of adults who need little to no supervision of any kind and are happy to keep to their own; discussing ideas and sketching out plans in small bubbles of similar minds.

You're not often needed past the first week, once everyone figures out where the smaller theater rooms and the bathrooms are located.

Following the staff member out into the hallway and closing the door behind for just a bit more privacy, your eyes rake over the man as he thumbs through a file, landing on a page and pushing it in front of you for you to glance over yourself.

"There's a fourth year student who will be joining us, though it's his first year at the Akademiya. He's a transfer from elsewhere, and really—"

"This is more like his sixth year," you say, finishing the sentence for him. He nods, knowingly. "Why hasn't he graduated?"

"Difficult to say, I haven't had much time with him, obviously, as the year has only just started. He seems bright from what I can gather in such a short amount of time, but I get the inkling of a feeling that he is largely uninspired, burnt out, having a hard time getting the final pieces together. The transcripts from his last school say that he didn't even bother turning anything in for his final project, and in fact, he disappeared without a trace for weeks until he finally put in a formal request to transfer."

Fascinating, but bizarre. Your eyebrows pull together, a strangeness collecting on your face.

"I'm surprised the Akademiya even accepted him with a track record like that, unlike the governing body."

"His portfolio is good, really impressive, so I assume that's why," the man says with a sigh and a shrug. "I guess it's up to us to drag the last little bit we can from the guy and get him out of here and into the world."

"Us? I'm no teacher, I don't know the first thing about guiding anyone."

Head cocking to the side and gifting you a half-smile, the man closes the file and nods towards the door once again.

"You're in charge when they're here, and I'm in charge when they're with me. You come from a long line of artists, if you hadn't then you wouldn't be running this place. Surely you've picked up something about the arts in your time?"

Yes, though not something you're all that eager to revisit if not necessarily required of you.

The man pulls ahead, opens the door to the theater and saunters inside. You follow him along the way over perfectly steamed red carpet and past numerous students who are none too interested in the fact that either of you are accompanying them within their creative spaces. Up the wooden steps to the side of the stage and then past the navy blue curtain, despite the darkness and the faint scent of moisture that you're certainly going to have to continue to tend to as a result of that damned leaky pipe, you're faced with the sight of one man, by himself, with hands busy at work.

You and the professor stand in place in silence as you look upon the student; messy brown hair and even while sitting on the floor with legs crossed, you can tell he's not especially tall. There's a dress form in front of him, though it's well out of reach as he works with busy hands and a pile of fabric in his lap that keeps all of his attention—none spared for either of you.

"Costuming?" you ask the man beside you in a lean, eyes still fixed onto the sight ahead of you. It feels stupid speaking of him as if he's not within earshot, then compounded by the way his head finally does turn towards where you stand with narrow, questioning eyes.

Your colleague nods, but the person ahead answers aloud for him. "Yes. Costuming."

"Sorry," you say, nearly fumbling even just the single word in response to him. "I—didn't want to interrupt you."

He sighs then, tosses his head back as if reluctantly resigned to having to engage in this whole thing at all. Sets his work aside and crawls to his feet to make his way towards the two of you.

The two of you meet eyes, and it lingers a bit longer than it might normally. Something strange, something intriguing about this student in particular—fascinating.

Extending a hand for pleasantries, he introduces himself. "Kim Hongjoong. Seventh year costuming student, but who's counting?"

"It's six according to your file." The man beside you begins thumbing through again, as if looking for what it is that he missed the first few times.

The student—Hongjoong—smiles. "Did a year at a school off in Hong Kong, bombed out so spectacularly that we agreed to not bother even adding it onto the transcript, so aside from the memories, it's as if I never existed there at all."

You can't help but find yourself stunned at the nonchalance in which he speaks on such things. Schools like these—schools like the Akademiya—are nothing to be scoffed at or played with, entry to them is extremely limited and some people go their whole lives dreaming for a shot at just one; this guy has flown through at least three, and with nothing to show for it, at that.

A feeling of judgment washes over you, catching yourself looking down your nose at him for being such a magnificent failure. It's not who you want to be, and you make an effort to correct the thoughts before they fester any longer in your mind.

The two of you shake hands—soft skin and you can't help but take notice of the single pinky painted black—a statement piece, something to be noticed.

"I take it you're going to be trouble then," you say plainly, wanting it to come off as something of a joke but meaning it just as much as well. Hongjoong huffs out a quiet laugh at the mere mention of it, as if asinine to even assume as much.

"The only person I've ever been trouble for is myself. If you're afraid I'm going to tear this place up or cause any of my peers any kind of harm, then I can put your mind at ease that that's never been the reasoning behind my removals—be it self-imposed or by the administration board."

"Then what is the reason, if you don't mind me asking?" the man besides you pipes up, having given up on the paperwork in hand.

Hongjoong sighs, slips his hands into torn up jean pockets and rocks back onto his heels once or twice before finally resigning himself to simply answering the question as laid out before him. You're curious as well, though you might not have had the gall to ask it so brazenly as your colleague has.

"Suppose I'm my own worst enemy," Hongjoong says, a lazy shrug accompanying the words. "I'm not a psychologist, but a psychologist would probably say that I have self-destructive tendencies."

"Have you ever seen a psychologist?" you ask then, interest piqued by his willingness to self-diagnose in such a shameless way.

"Now that you're not allowed to ask," he says with a playful tone. Uncaring of the question or its privacy to him, but rather using it as a way to chide you effortlessly.

You back down immediately, and your colleague steps up in your stead.

A grin forms on Hongjoong's lips meanwhile.

"Well, back at the Akademiya, I'll be more than happy to do what it takes to finally get you graduated and out onto the next step of your career. File says you're twenty-five, so I can't imagine you're thrilled to be spending your time around a bunch of barely-twenties, either."

"I tend to keep to myself regardless of the age, so it's unimportant to me."

The answer makes you want to roll your eyes, you stifle the desire out of respect.

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to contact me. You have my phone number as well as my email, and for when you're here—"

There's a beat of silence that comes between the three of you, your eyes glancing to the side to meet the man speaking, and then once more falling towards Hongjoong as he stands in front.

"You'll be answering to the groundskeeper, she'll try to accommodate you to the best of her abilities."

Hongjoong's eyebrow perks upwards, seemingly intrigued by that. "Do you act?"

Not what you expected, and it takes you back just a bit, hands flying up in a visual display of putting a stop to the assumption. "No, no! Nothing like that. I've inherited the place from my great grandparents after their passing."

"But you're familiar with the arts."

Persistent, isn't he?

The answer is yes, though it's something you've long since learned to put aside for much more practical engagements and a husband none too keen.

"I'm...familiar, yes." Whatever that means.

Hongjoong doesn't reply further, though his eyes linger on you a bit longer than you'd like for them to. A discomfort in how forward he is, not at all what you might have anticipated when first laying your sights upon him.

"Perfect then," the man beside you says. "We'll be on our way, and I'll see you tomorrow at the Akademiya."

"Yup," Hongjoong says, though you can't help but catch the hint of something hidden within the tone of his voice. You can't put your finger on it, though even after you turn your back to him, you know his gaze remains on your form.

"See you around."

a/n: weeee excited to have this one started! reminder that if you wish to discuss the story with me, the ask box is the best way to do it! another reminder that this story is going to get ugly and dive into some stuff that a lot of people are going to get squicked out about. those things have been clearly warned. until next time, cheers! xo

[softshuji]

Feat. Ran Haitani

Your relationship with Ran was anything but simple. You're convinced that you're the only one who can understand him and the only one who can know him in the way you're loathe to admit he knows you.

It makes more sense than you're happy to admit, that Ran can read you as easily as you do him, and that the secrets and shames you try so hard to hide are as easily peeled away as his are to you. And they are, though he'd never admit it. Ran likes to pretend that the great pains he takes to constantly be his best, somehow hide the other pains he leaves unsaid. The tired eyes, the constant bouts of sudden sleepiness that he knows have everything to do with the effort it takes to don the mask every day that hides more than just a face. And he loves Rindou, he does and it's because of that that he'll never admit the lengths he's gone to, shielding Rindou from the same sights he's had to see.

It's pathetic to admit he's just as human as everyone else, the Ran Haitani, conqueror and King in one, the Ran that everyone needs, that shields and bares the teeth of every enemy so they don't have to, perhaps hides in bed, where the exhaustion seeps through his skin into the same sheets he'll toss and turn in while sleep eludes him.

'You okay Ran?' you say, because the half-empty decanter doesn't delude you and the ashtray and powders and creams that hide the weighted shadows under his eyes are tricks that you're quite accustomed to already.

'Yeah, yeah no fine, why? Are you okay?' he says and runs a hand over his handsome face, stretching languidly in the chair as if it means nothing to find you here, his mirror and partner in all things, as if you can't reach out and touch his heart with a look.

'This isn't about me, I'm asking about you. You're quiet.'

'Am I now? And that means something is wrong?'

And you give him a knowing look because you get it, and a lifetime of doing the same has taught you enough. So you reach out a hand and touch at his cheek lightly and the tension under his skin as he stiffens is almost palpable, the muscle tightening in his jaw as he stares at you with wide eyes, suspicion and mistrust and it aches to see what you know too well reflected in the viridescence of his pupils.

You tut under your breath. 'I'm not dumb Ran. You don't have to do that y'know, not with me.'

He tilts his head and the action has your hand slipping from his cheek, as if shrugging you off and he knows it hurts, the refusal to be human with you, the frigid machinery of his feelings that not even you can break as often as you'd like. You get it. You recognise the unwillingness to feel a little too well.

'Do what exactly? I'm fine, just busy.' And he pretends to stretch and light a cigarette, breaking your stare. He's never liked how honest your expressions are, how see-through he becomes with you around, and it feels foreign, wrong, uncomfortable to let himself be seen in any way that he has not carefully curated for use.

You care too much, he cares too much and here the two of you are, the both of you aware of how much you've created and built, how desperate you are to let each other in and the fear that comes with that. You think of Rindou, and how protected he has been, how wide he smiles when he is alone, the preserved innocence of his feelings that Ran has suffered to keep, the centre of his world in all things. They've both seen a little too much, but you think Ran has borne the weight of it the most, because aniki has always been there, as Rindou expects.

So you reach behind him and wrap your arms around the broadened swell of his shoulders, a hand in his hair and the other on the flat of his chest. tight enough to press him into you, as if you can devour the weight of his pain, like you've no doubt he'd do for you if you asked. Because Ran Haitani cares too much and he's a little too much like you for comfort and yet what a comfort it is, to be seen so easily, to have the mask ripped away and be pathetically and terrifyingly human.

He swallows, the muscles in his neck, shoulders, the angry and tumultuous patter of his heart thundering against his ribs. It's awkward, it always has been, real human connection, the mortifying ordeal of being read so easily, of not shrugging off what he isn't ready to accept.

'What are you doing?'

'This is called a hug, you've definitely had one before.'

'Well yes but why? I don't need one, I told you I-'

'Yeah, yeah, I heard you.' And you hold a little tighter for the both of you, because you know he needs it and will never ask, because he won't take it even if it's offered, because he thinks he needs no one and nothing, and that he's indestructible and you know it has to be coaxed from him like this.

And maybe it doesn't fix anything, you know it doesn't, it's hardly a change. Ran is a stubborn man. But he sinks a little into you, a fraction even, still rigid enough but softer, warm and eliciting a soft sigh against your shoulder.

It is not perfect, but it is enough. He is enough.

Reblogs appreciated

[miaountainmama]

gently, gently.

a short drabble.

characters: chuuya, you contains: you are depressed af and chuuya comforts you

wc: 443

a/n: uhhh hi i'm new to tumblr let me know if i'm doing anything wrong. posting some old stuff. also i suck at tagging

Am I suffering beautifully?

There are no scars on my flesh for Chuuya to trace. I have left my skin untouched, porcelain smooth, and the hair he runs his fingers through is soft and smooth as silk. I have made great strides to appear unspoiled, and I like to believe that it is impossible to guess that I am anything other than whole from sight alone. But it has been too long, and he knows me better than that. I squeeze my eyes shut as his nails skim feather-light along my scalp, and my fingers curl around the back of his shirt to match the knot in my stomach. He sighs and kisses the crown of my head. I try to focus on his warm, easy breaths, and pretend I am capable of breathing easy too.

Is my agony lovable?

I make sure to thank him often, even when nothing particular has happened. Thank you for being so good to me. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for existing. Each time, he says that I have no need to do so, and that he would do it a hundred times over for me. I am set aflame, and a savage love scorches me to my toes. There is no being on this planet I could ever love more fiercely than him.

Can you see me, everything that I am laid bare, and choose to stay?

He comes home sometimes to see me sprawled across the couch, staring at the wall or the ceiling or anything or nothing in particular. “I’m home, love,” he murmurs, gentle even in tone, and I try my best not to cry. There are many who Chuuya is short in temper with, and many who know him as nothing but harsh. But not with me. Never with me. I bring his hands to my lips and kiss his knuckles reverently. Somehow, we both end up tangled on the cushions, and I bare my soul to him without fear of judgement. It is a messy thing, writhing and ugly and oozing viscous, but he quells it before it can rear its head and spit rancor. Now I cannot hold the tears back, and I repeat over and over again that I love him into the warmth of his neck. He says it back and strokes the back of my hand with his thumb. “You’re going to be okay,” he tells me, and I find myself believing it unconditionally. There is nobody who knows me better than him. It is hard to believe, but I try my best to take his word as truth. I will be okay.

I will.

[mikuchan]

For ship bingo: Minthara/Halsin "and it was so small they had to lie almost on top of each other" 💛

This wound up more general forced proximity, and a little longer than intended. ~1000 words below the cut!

only one bed bingo

When the Nightwarden joins them, Halsin’s not happy. She’s grating and harsh, unpleasant to be around. 

In all truth, he’s not even quite understanding. Not the way some of the others claim to be. He wishes he could be, he wants to be the bigger person, but truly, he cannot understand the drow and their cruel culture. He can barely bring himself to try. 

But like the others here, like the Nightwarden…he’s also been victim to greater plots and cycles. He does not understand the drow herself, but he does understand the precarious position she’s in. 

So he’s gracious. He presses his lips together and does not advocate for her to leave. He joins her, along with the others, in battle and at meals. He even offers to share his tent. He’s a leader, after all, even if not their leader, and one of the oldest of the group. He certainly couldn’t allow another to open their tent to the drow while he continued to stay safe and alone inside his own. 

So far he’s wound up simply spending each night outside, anyway. He’s used to sleeping roughly, and as a cave bear, it’s almost warm.

Almost. The air grows colder with each passing night, harsh winds rumbling down from the mountains as winter seeps into the shadow-cursed lands. It rains more often than not, and it’s on one such night that Halsin makes up his mind. Why should he be out here, fur soaked and skin freezing, while the drow enjoys the shelter of the tent? The agreement was to share, after all, not to sacrifice his comfort for hers. 

He releases his wild shape, reverting to a man before pushing his way into the tent. It’s a small space, made smaller because of his height and bulk suddenly filling it; the drow rouses instantly from her meditations, red eyes snapping to him. 

“What are you doing here?”

He keeps his tone light. “I think I’ve enjoyed enough of the Oakfather’s chillier blessings. I won’t disturb you, but I’ll join you here the rest of the night.”

“I am not in the mood,” the Nightwarden hisses. “Find another tent to raid.” She spits a word in drowic that Halsin pretends not to know. 

“I’m not asking you to leave,” he says. He is tired of being kept from home and comfort, such as they are, by drow. Particularly this drow. “But this is my tent as well as yours, and I’m not going back into the rain.”

“Fine,” she finally snaps. “But disturb my trance, and you will regret it.”

“Likewise,” Halsin says mildly, and something like annoyance and a little like respect flashes over the Nightwarden’s face. 

They divide the bedroll as they lie in their respective trances, each silently claiming their half of it. They do not touch, but the bedroll’s so small that Halsin feels he’s almost lying on top of her despite it. The Nightwarden takes the pillow, and Halsin uses his crooked arm. Warmth radiates against his back, and despite the sour drow source of it, Halsin finds himself far more comfortable than he was in the freezing rain outside.

His sleep – such as elves sleep – comes easily enough, though he’s repeatedly roused by the drow doing…what is she doing? She keeps jerking occasionally, jostling him, sometimes hitting him with an elbow or a foot. Is her intent to disturb his slumber, to make him so uncomfortable that he leaves again? Is she just trying to claim more space than is rightfully hers? Halsin’s not a small man, and he’s already giving her more of the bedroll than he’d like. 

Another swell of wind. They’re still not touching, but in the hairsbreadth of space between them, he can sense the drow stiffen. The rain sweeps against the tent, spattering noisily, and she jumps, kicking him again. 

Ah. Of course she’d be on edge: the Underdark is static, no seasons to speak of. The drow isn’t used to the weather. 

He rolls over, facing her. She’s deep in her uneasy trance, pupils moving back and forth behind closed lids.

Halsin knows animals. He knows the sting of a stray cat’s claws – and he knows the fear behind its arch and hiss. People are not so different. 

Very gently, he hovers his hand over Minthara. He doesn’t touch her, not physically; instead he calls upon a small amount of the Oakfather’s healing magic, letting it well up against his palm and seep into Minthara’s freckled shoulder. It’s meant for physical maladies, of course, but Halsin’s never been one for strict divides between body and soul. He’s used this spell to soothe crying children, to calm nervous animals, occasionally to help talk down a younger, panic-stricken Kagha. Minthara remains tense for a long moment – then slowly, slowly, her expression softens and her muscles relax.

Another burst of rain against the tent; Halsin’s so focused on the drow, it even startles him. He’s doubly surprised when Minthara curls into him, fingers finding his shirt and clenching it as the storm outside sweeps and thunders. He tenses, ready for a fight, but it doesn't come. No harsh words, no knife to his gut, no threats or bluster. Is she even awake? Her breath is hot against his collar. Halsin shivers. 

He isn’t sure if his actions are against his better judgment, or because of that better judgment. The Nightwarden Minthara is a harsh, cruel woman, unrepentant and smug. She’s also shuddering against him at every surge of rain. Regardless, he wraps his arms around her securely, enveloping the smaller woman in a gentle bear hug. 

She’s warm in his embrace, breathing evening as she finally drifts into a deeper, peaceful sleep. There is a strange comfort, he thinks, in caring for another, even one as…unpleasant as Minthara. Halsin lies bemused for a long while; and then he, too, is lost in slumber.

[dark-elf-writes]

If we going for Orochimaru redemption in the red lights au then it has to start in the Tsunade retrieval arc. Just think, Naruto and Jiraiya leave Konoha and meet Tsunade and after a week end up on a battlefield with Orochimaru on the other side. Naruto beats Kabuto with the Rasengan and earns Tsunade’s faith and Tsunade is once again the strong women she always was blossoming out of her drunken suffering. As Orochimaru is defeated by Tsunade he decides to cut his loss but not before reaching out to Naruto, offering him power to hurt those who hurt him (just like he was hurt) instead to the shock of everyone Naruto reaches out his hand and offers for Orochimaru to come home. Tells everyone there about Danzo schemes that Orochimaru was roped in on (because Granny would know to warn Naruto about that man and all he ahs done), how his teacher failed and feared him (feared a child), how his teammates failed him (Tsunade and Jiraiya flinch at the truth) and that he doesn’t need to be alone and hated, that he can be more than what they say he is. He can come home, Granny Rin has missed him, they all missed him and they're waiting for him and Orchimaru who for years wanted those around him, to reach out. To be loved by those around him takes Naruto's (his reflection) hand and agrees to come home. Naruto returns and for the first time in years all 3 sannin are home, for the first time in years Granny Rin is reunited with one of her first flowers. And together they will make their village better. Starting with making Danzo face justice.

I am in tears?

—

There’s not mistaking who Naruto is.

Or, perhaps more importantly, there’s no mistaking where he is from.

Orochimaru had seen it immediately when he hand tumbled into the waiting area for the first part of the Chunin exam. Had taken one look at the Kyuubi and had seen a flower instead of a demon looking back at him. Through him like the little fox could see through his stolen face to the golden eyes underneath.

It was in the way he dressed — silken kimono purposely left loose to expose the mesh top underneath and glittering baubles that Orochimaru knew would be razor sharp adorning his golden hair — to both charm and be underestimated. It was in the way he acted — a tinkling laugh loud enough to draw the attention of the whole room and his head tipped back to expose his pale throat — another misdirect, pretending to be a mindless little thing to be discounted early. It was in his eyes — the brilliant blue shining nearly bright enough to hide the wicked mind behind them — flicking over the biggest threats before he turned back to his little friends and laughed again.

Orochimaru knew better than anyone where those habits came from. He had used them himself for so long still used them from time to time.

Rin’s Her guiding hand was practically written all over this child along with… something else Orochimaru wasn’t as familiar with. Something in the cold smile that screamed both beauty and threat when he stood between little Kabuto and his Sound team. Something in the way a senbon seemed to appear in his hand, nearly invisible to those who didn’t know how to look, ready to protect someone he just met in a way that would never be traced back to him Orochimaru was sure.

(It wasn’t until the final part of the exam over a month later that Orochimaru realized what that other part was. Wasn’t until he saw little Aki, the darling little moonflower he had been threatened with so often in those horrible years between the attack and when he left, tearing through his enemies with a vicious grace.)

So later, beaten and broken at the feet of this boy who could be his reflection, the day to his night, Orochimaru reached out.

“Come with me, little flower,” it took all of his remaining willpower to keep the desperation from his voice. The need to steal this boy away before they could shatter him like Orochimaru had been shattered. “I could give you the power to end those that hurt you.”

For there’s was a wary distance between the little fox and Jiraiya even now. A tension in the space between them that spoke of fear and hurt. It made Orochimaru’s fangs ache to split flesh when he thought of what the old pervert could have done to earn that fear.

What surprised even him was the hand that reached back. Above his own rather than taking it. A counter offer.

“They used us to hurt you didn’t they?”

Orochimaru, for the first time in decades, flinched.

(Danzo’s cruel laugh as he threatened to find the next round of subjects from Orochimaru’s old home. The picture of little Aki all of ten and all too wary of the world thrown at his feet as a clear message to work faster. Hiruzen’s horrified eyes as he raided Orochimaru’s laboratory unable to see the invisible shackles that kept him from laying the truth at the old man’s feet.

The truth he was complicit in even if he was not an active participant. The truth he was too blind to see.

Orochimaru had ran, knowing if even a hint of that truth escaped the familiar red lanterns would have burned and the streets of his home would have been bathed in an entirely different red.)

“I thought so.” The little fox’s smile was sad. “Granny said it was something like that. She also said that it’s not too late.”

Orochimaru blinked.

The little fox continued to smile. “The people who stole you. The people who were supposed to be your family and turned from you,” behind him Orochimaru’s former teammates flinched, “they don’t have to define you. There will have to be a trial, one where we expose everything that was done to you, but… you can come home.”

It hit harder that Tsunade’s fist. Hurt more than the ache in his arms.

Home.

There was no way they would let him off without punishment. No way they would allow him to remain unchained but…

Would it be worth it to drag Danzo along with him? To cage himself if it meant caging the other village monster as well.

Perhaps it would.

Perhaps it would be worth it just to see her again.

Orochimaru blamed the concussion and took the little fox’s hand.

[slut-for-a-good-latte]

"i can't wait to read us"

you said.

so, this.

it is thursday. three days before my birthday. i am sitting at an outdoor brewery, the one i keep telling you about, and i am pretending to work. i am not really working; i am, as i do so often recently, thinking of you. writing about you. remembering you. remembering your hands and your mouth and watching you cook in the dim light of your kitchen and you bringing us more wine as we watch supernatural.

it's a very silly feeling. i think at this juncture i may be in love with you. which i will not say to you. i know we promised open communication. but there are, i think, rules to be followed.

i am not distressed by this revelation. it feels as though i am a fish realizing, suddenly, that i am surrounded by water. it is simply where i am. where i thrive. my natural environment, you might say.

i have some suspicions that this might be it. for awhile at least. can't tell the future, of course.

you make me feel smart and like i am worth listening to. you also are so, so, incredibly, beautifully fucking smart. i could listen to you talk about anything. i want to listen to you talk about anything.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

it is friday and you have slept late. i woke up to messages from you about how much you miss me, how you talked about me, how i should be there to warm your chest with my head and watch dumb movies with you. you are the first thing that comes to mind when i wake up now. i am inordinately disappointed i won't be seeing you today.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

evelyn.

i've had that name picked out for a long time. i mentioned it the other night. you seemed to short circuit.

is it odd i am thinking about doing the whole baby thing with you?

while i was in berlin, in the little airbnb we were staying in, i had a few moments alone. i'd walked to the grocery store and hauled a bag of white wine, bread, cheese, and almonds back to an empty apartment. and in my head, i pictured you on the couch with someone small. i pictured music playing softly in the background as you bounced a girl on your knee and kissed her soft blonde head. i pictured setting my bags on the table and asking, how are my loves? did you miss me? and you answering, laughing, of course we did, didn't we, darling? maybe it would be a date night. we'd have a show to catch, or dinner reservations to make. a sitter would be on the way. we'd spend the first part of the evening enjoying the wine and the bread and marveling at this small wonder of a person that is both of us and more than us.

evangeline. cassiopeia. calliope. cassandra. emmeline. lina. olivia.

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it is two days after my birthday and i am exhausted. all i can think about is you. it's a little silly how much i find myself missing you after spending the whole of the weekend wrapped around you.

things i do not want to fade from memory:

dancing at cheers. glancing back to see you filming me. smiling like i am the brightest thing you have ever seen.

cheshire-cat grin as you explain how some guy talked to you at length about fucking me before hurrying away when you told him, "she's coming home with me tonight."

dancing, again, but with you this time. spinning. orbiting. your hands.

kissing me triumphantly at midnight. you beat paetyn.

of course, really, really good sex after we stumbled home.

later, when we met with paisley - you bought me an ice cream in the shape of batman. it turned my tongue blue. it didn't have dairy in it. i could have cried.

listening to you chat with the bartender. i am finding i adore particularly listening to you talk to people with such earnest open interest.

you returning from leaving the table and grazing my back with your hand.

you talked with me about my writing so readily. so excitedly. not because you had to or because i asked or had to fish for a response. you read my work and reread it enough to form wonderful opinions about it and i love that.

teaching me how to shoot pool. "yes, baby!" when i sank a shot.

"too high, drop it lower - good girl."

the uber ride laying in your lap. staring up at you. your eyes shimmered. i was drunk enough i almost let it slip. i didn't. but i thought it, hard, hoping you'd feel what i wanted to say without me saying it. iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou

tuna melts. so incredibly wonderful. made better because you seemed so happy to be making them. and we ate them and fell asleep watching supernatural.

three times the next morning. three times. each time different and lovely and perfect. i want to live all the time with the feeling of you inside me. it is religious.

"you're such a good girl, you take it so well"

three times, not even counting all the other moments where it was just you enjoying me, all eager exploring mouth and gentle hands.

wine walk. discussing our befores. somehow, not uncomfortable.

reading on your couch. tired, tipsy, not feeling much like talking. letting the sound of your voice fill my chest with warmth.

it's a non-exhaustive list. i could, i think, write for hours about each thing you do that makes my heart swell. but for now i need to nap.

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i came by again on a tuesday night, and my sleep schedule is definitely suffering for it. it is entirely and completely worth it.

you wrote about me. i slept next to you and you played with my hair and lips, which i didn't notice, and you wrote about me.

you have an isosceles triangle on your back. your freckles form a perfect right angle. pythagoras, i think, was talking about you when he decided that truth could be found in perfect mathematics. you are perfect. your angles are divine.

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tinned fish in our underwear.

you held my hand while i told you all the ways i am cruel to myself. squeezed it like you understood. showed me dents in your refrigerator that explained exactly how much you understood.

you made us toast points while i spoke very plainly about things i am used to being ashamed of. and you held my hand. flinched when i mentioned how it had happened in the time since we have known each other. (maybe i imagined this part. but to me, it seemed as though you were wincing for the fact that you could not hold my hand then the way that you hold it now. or maybe not.)

i really love tinned fish. and you. you and tinned fish are my favorite combination.

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my thighs are littered in bruises. each are the shape of your fingertips. small. delicate. real, painful little reminders of your hands on me. i am obsessed with them. they are beautiful colorful stunning pieces of evidence that i have not made you up.

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i whispered i love you into your hair this morning while you slept on me.

when i left, i drove past you walking up the hill. i blew you a kiss. you caught it. blew one back.

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i am drinking earl grey tea and sparkling water, eating a panini that, honestly, darling, you could have done much better.

you are everywhere all the time. beautiful days make me think fondly of how much you will love to feel the sun on your face when you leave your apartment. cold breezes and rain make me think of curling up against you and sleeping the whole morning through, reveling in the sound of uninterrupted drizzle and the way your breath feels against my neck as you doze. earl grey tea makes me wish you were here enjoying a cup of coffee with me, nudging my bare leg with your foot.

you are everywhere. i miss you every moment i am not with you. but that is alleviated some by the way that you kiss me with every breeze that brushes across my cheeks and a patch of pure wonderful sunlight is the same as being held in your arms.

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“you can’t hide these marks from me baby. i’m never going to judge you for them. i just want to kiss them.”

i thought i heard you say “i love-“ while you were kissing my chest this morning. i don’t know if you did. but i would like to think that you can’t help but think i love you when you’re inside me with your arms wrapped completely around me. i would like to think we are on the same page about this too.

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we've said it, and i've read most of this out to you, so i suppose there's nothing stopping me from posting it.

it's been three days of existing in your space and i have adored every minute. i adore you every minute. i have never felt peace quite as all encompassing.

i love you. i don't know what else there is to say about it. but there will be more. you keep finding ways to make me need to come on here and spill my love all over a blank page.

i love you, i love you, i love you.

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i've decided to keep adding to this, because i like the idea of a long, never-ending record of all the ways i adore you.