#hand me one of these fics and you will not see me for a week

[thewidowsledger]

Toothbrush

© thewidowsledger 2024 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Pairings: Nerd!Natasha Romanoff x MILF!Reader

Word count: 5.2k

Tags | Warnings: +18, AMAB!Natasha, beefy and super nerdy Natasha, MILF!reader, reader is 39 and Natasha is 22, dating apps, Tony being a good and a bad friend at the same time, lying about age, reader has sons, dirty talk, switch r & Nat but more like a top!Natasha, breeding kink, mommy kink, breast sucking, riding, teasing, rough sex, creampie, squirting, overstimulation, fingering (r receiving), ghosting (kinda), unintentionally stealing clothes👀 (?)

Author’s Note: I know I said I am going to post this tonight but my daimonion is telling me to post this right now, lol. This fic is inspired from this request, but I changed it like a lot lot I guess...I hope it's fine for whoever requested it🥹 the title is inspired by DNCE's song: Toothbrush I am currently banging with this song for weeks now.

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⧗

“F-fuck please be bad Mommy.” Natasha whined.

“No mommy wants to be bad to their baby…”

⧗

“What do you want Tony?” Natasha chuckled as she saw her best friend on her apartment door at 7 o’clock early in the morning, standing there holding a pizza box. “Really? Pizza? Early this morning?”

Tony rolled his eyes and pushed his way inside, shutting the door behind him. “Well, thank you for the warm welcome,” he teased. “Before I go to my asshole of a father’s place, I want to do one thing. Something purposeful for you, my friend.”

Nat raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And what would that be?” she asked, as she led him to the living room of her small apartment.

“Let me see your phone,” he said, taking it out of her hands.

“Hey, wait!” the redhead protested, but Tony was already fiddling with it. “What are you doing?!”

“Setting up an account on a dating app,” he replied, typing away.

“Wow. So this is your grand purpose? Setting me up on a dating app? I’m touched.” She said sarcastically. She watched him, a box of pizza on his left hand and her phone on the other, seriously typing whatever it is that is asked to fulfill the account—he is really serious about setting her up on a dating site.

“You gotta be kidding Tony…”

“Nope. Enough robotics Romanoff before you turn into one.”

Nat’s eyes widened as she suddenly realized that she told Tony her plans. And a wave of regret washed over her. She had meticulously scheduled out her entire summer break even though it hasn't started yet, she intended to spend time working on her robotics project every single day of the summer break. But now, with Tony in the picture with her phone in his hands, she could already imagine the chaos that was going to ensue.

The dating preference section came up and Tony immediately, with no hesitations, clicked women. It had been common knowledge among their friends that Nat had a strong liking for girls. He chuckled to himself, thinking about the kind of women the app would likely recommend for her.

“Let’s make things spicy,” he said under his breath as he set the age range for Natasha’s profile.

With a few taps, he set the age preference to 30-50 years old. “You’ll thank me for this, Nat,” he said with a sly grin on his face.

Every time he and Nat would pass some women on the street, Tony would stealthily observe Nat’s reactions. Whether it was a woman walking past them with her kids or a lady jogging in tight-fitting leggings who he was sure was around 35 to 40, the red head is drooling already. Tony had taken note of Natasha's undeniable interest in women—women who are old enough to be her mother.

The last step came, he only needed to pick a photo of Natasha and it's all done and set up, ready to swipe left and right. So he went through her gallery to find photos of her, but her gallery is just full of screenshots about freaking science.

As Tony sifted through Natasha's gallery, his mood grew more impatient and bored.

“Seriously Nat, you’ve got like a million screenshots of scientific articles and memes about space, and when you do actually take a photo, it’s of some historical artifact in a museum. This is like a grandma’s photo album…” He grumbled, scrolling further.

“Okay, that’s enough.” The redhead stood from the sofa but Tony backed away not even looking at her, too busy to smile like an idiot with whatever he saw on her phone.

“Damn, Nat,” he muttered under his breath, a smirk forming on his face. “I had no idea you were hiding this much muscle under those baggy clothes.” He came across a couple of mirror shots that Natasha had taken in the gym. In these photos, she was wearing a tight-fitting black tank top and some baggy shorts, showing off her muscular arms and strong physique.

Tony chuckled, his eyes still glued to the photos of Natasha’s flexing arms. “Yeah, definitely milfs will absolutely love these shots.”

Nat couldn't help but blush, both at the compliment and at the mention of milfs. “You really think so?” she asked, a hint of shyness in her voice.

“Oh yeah, they would swipe right in a heartbeat,” he said, chuckling. “These are juicy…”

“Okay, you sounded perverted. Gimme that…” Natasha was finally able to get her phone back and Tony raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I was just trying to get some good pictures of you in there. You gotta give the ladies something to look at, you know?”

Tony watched as Natasha went through the app, “You just need to click confirm, and it’s all set up…but it’s still your choice. And…I gotta go, mom’s gonna call me.”

Natasha paused and looked at Tony with relief and confusion. She was grateful for the break in the conversation, but she also didn’t want him to leave just yet. “Okay...go ahead. Can’t keep mommy waiting.” She said jokingly.

“Okay now that sounded perverted coming from you, Romanoff.” Tony pointed a finger at her while walking backwards towards the redhead’s apartment door.

“I’m just kidding,” Natasha let out some giggles as she walked Tony off her apartment, “Don’t kill your father, Tony.”

“I’ll try not to, I can’t believe mom wanted me to spend half of my summer with him. I love her so much that I’ll do anything she asks of me even though it’s spending some time with the man who hurt her.”

“You’ll be fine, just don’t get your hand bloody like last time.”

Tony chuckled and saluted her back, then turned to leave. “I make no promises, Romanoff.” He sighed, Natasha just gently patted Tony’s shoulder and when she was about to close her door, her best friend's foot stopped it from closing.

“Goodluck with the milf hunting.”

⧗

For the next few days, Nat found herself thinking about the dating app and Tony’s playful attempt to set her up. She would secretly open the app every now and then but couldn't bring herself to swipe in any direction. She thinks all these women are deserving to be dated, but she could only pick one of course.

Finally, one night, Natasha couldn't resist the temptation any longer. She sat on her couch to browse through the potential matches. She’d take her frustration out on her pillow, mumbling to herself about how ridiculous this all was. But she continued, her heart raced as she began swiping through the profiles. Her cheeks flushed with a hint of embarrassment as she came across various women who fit her preference—older, attractive milf, thanks to her best friend who knew exactly what her type is.

As she read the bios, she couldn’t help but be intrigued by some of their descriptions. They were confident, successful, and had a certain allure about them that made her even more flustered.

She should've swiped right to have more chances of winning like what Tony advised her, but Natasha continued swiping left through profiles. Yes, she noticed that the women she saw were undeniably beautiful, however, she wanted to see something different, that's why she started swiping left. It wasn't because she found them unattractive, but rather because they didn't quite match the image she had in mind.

She was so intimidated, all these women looks so powerful—like how women should be. So far she'd seen woman who's a pilot, CEO, business owners and many jobs that she for sure puts a lot of zeros on their bank accounts. Not that she didn't want that and she's definitely not opposed to the idea of being a sugar baby, but...she wanted someone who's simple, domestic yet can lead her.

Each profile she scrolled through brought a mix of excitement and anxiety, yet curiosity pushed her to keep searching for that one woman who would make her heart skip a beat.

“Y/N, 39 years old, mother of two, loves gardening, sketching…” she read to herself, trying not to blush as she looked at your photo. Most women she had seen in this app either had a picture with the Eiffel tower or a selfie inside the high premium car—no offense, she loved everything old women do but you, you had a picture of yourself in a beautiful garden she thought was in your place, surrounded by lush greenery. Your genuine smile and a sparkle in her eyes stood out to Natasha.

“Just 4 hours drive away from here…”

Natasha's heart raced as she nervously swiped right on your profile, her hand trembling a little. The moment she did it, she immediately slammed her phone shut and threw herself onto her bed, her heart pounding in her chest.

The thought of you potentially seeing her profile and possibly matching with her made her stomach flutter. The redhead buried her face into her pillow, unable to wipe the redness of her face.

She stood and immediately put on her glasses to distract herself from the constant nervous feeling of seeing a notification from the app, Natasha threw herself into various activities to keep her mind occupied. She deep cleaned her apartment, organized her cluttered drawers, and even got started on her robotics project.

Days passed, but there still wasn't any notification from the dating app. And Natasha actually forgot about it, the robotics project she's working on consuming and occupying every time she had for the day.

Natasha was deep in thought, working on her project, when the sudden notification sound from her phone jolted her from her focus. Startled, she picked up her phone, expecting it to be an email from the agency she applied for an internship or her sister asking for some 5$ on cash app.

However, when she looked at the screen, her heart almost jumped out of her ribs when she saw the dating app icon. She shakingly and immediately opened it.

You: Hi dear

Natasha found herself biting her lower lip, wrestling with her thoughts. She’d faced down debaters, cracked numerous codes, and aced countless exams and quizzes. But responding to a simple “hi” from an older woman had her completely flustered. It was a ridiculous feeling, but she couldn't deny the butterflies in her stomach at the thought of conversing with you.

She typed and deleted various responses, unsure of what to say, until finally, she decided on something simple yet respectful at least.

Natasha: Good evening, how are you?

You: I’m good, just finished cooking some dinner. You?

Natasha: I haven't eaten anything yet, I was working for a project.

You: That's not good for your health and for those massive muscles of yours.

Natasha felt her cheeks grow warm as she read your reply about her muscles. Tony was indeed right when he said milfs will definitely like those. She hadn't expected you to notice that detail, but reading it brought a smile to her face.

Natasha: Massive muscles? I think you're exaggerating a bit.

She typed, trying to downplay your compliment, yet secretly loving the attention.

You: Exaggerating? Not one bit, love. Your biceps are godly💪🔥

You responded, clearly amused by her attempt to deny your compliment.

Natasha felt her heart rate increase at your playful banter and the cute emojis you used. She couldn't help but feel the pain of her cheeks from smiling with your attention and the nicknames you’re calling her.

Nat: Thanks :)))

You: So…where exactly do you live in Brooklyn?

⧗

“Y-you should... probably stop that…” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “I-I'm not... I'm not good at…”

You slowly start to grind your hips against Natasha, feeling her body tense up beneath you. Her eyes dilate, and she licks her lips nervously.

Despite her protests, you continue to grind against her, feeling her hips instinctively buck up to meet yours. Natasha’s face turns a deep shade of red, and she lets out a soft whimper as she feels herself getting hard beneath you. “P-please... stop…”

And you did, you pause, lifting your hips away from her but you were still straddling her—kneeling straightly where your tits were right in front of her. Natasha whines softly at the loss of the friction, her hips bucking forward as if seeking more. You smirk mischievously, leaning in close to her ear. “I’m stopping because my baby told me to. Mommy has to listen to what her baby says, mommy doesn’t wanna be bad.”

“F-fuck please be bad Mommy.” Natasha whined.

“No mommy wants to be bad to their baby…”

Natasha lets out a frustrated whine again, her hips bucking forward again as she chases the friction she was just denied. “B-but... Mommy... it feels so good…you’re so good…” she whimpers, her eyes filled with need and puppy-dog sadness. “Please... just a little more…”

You slowly unbutton your top, revealing your bra. Natasha’s eyes flick down to your chest, watching intently as you unhook the bra and let it fall to the floor. Your bare breasts come into view, you guide Natasha’s face to your chest, gently cupping the back of her head. Her mouth parts slightly, and you can feel her warm breath on your tits. “Be good and suck Mommy’s tits,” you whisper, your voice laced with desire.

Natasha like a good baby she is, eagerly obeys, pressing soft kisses to your breasts. She kisses and licks, her touch gentle and reverent. You can hear her breathing grow heavier, feel her body tensing as she gets more aroused.

“That's it, baby. Be so good for Mommy…”

Her mouth finds your nipples, and she begins to suck and lick enthusiastically. She moans against your skin, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. You can feel her hands gripping your waist tightly, her nails digging in slightly.

She continues to suck and lick your peaks, her cold glasses press against your warmth against the skin of your breasts, the temperature difference sending goosebumps across your flesh. You moan softly, your fingers tangling in her hair to keep her head in place as she paid attention to both of your tits.

After several minutes of shared attention on your tits, you guide Natasha's face back up to yours. You lean down and press a soft, passionate kiss to her lips finally settling back down to her lap feeling her hard once again.

Your hands gently stroking Natasha’s braided hair. You reach out and slowly move your hands towards her shorts, immediately feeling her hard cock through her boxers. Her eyes widened as he realized what you're doing. You then pulled out his cock spring free.

“Guess who’s being bad, hm?”

“Please…p-please mommy.”

You carefully shifted to position yourself on Natasha’s pointing cock. You guide her hands to your hips as you slowly lower yourself onto her. You can see the shock and pleasure on her face as you envelope her with your warm walls. “Y/N…” she stammers.

“That’s not my name baby.”

“Mommy, please!”

You bit your lower lip and began to move, taking her in and out of your warmth, Natasha’s head lolls back, her mouth opening in a silent 'O' of pleasure. Her hands on your hips tighten, her fingers digging in slightly. “It's...it's so tight, Mommy…you’re so…”

“Mhm, yeah?” You pant condescendingly, “Mommy’s what baby?”

“So good! So tight!” She cries.

“Oh yeah?”

You lean down, your breath hot against her ear. “That's because Mommy’s special hole is made just for my special baby. Only for you…” You punctuate each phrase with a slow thrust, taking her deeper.

Natasha’s breathing grows faster, her chest rising and falling rapidly against yours. Her hips buck upwards to meet your slow, languid movements. “Mommy...it...it feels…so good…” she moans softly, her voice barely a whisper. “I... I think I'm... I'm…”

“Are you good?” You asked, but the redhead didn't answer, her eyes shut closed behind her fogged glasses and was too focused on her pleasure and you loved it.

“Are you good, Natasha?” Now you calling her on her first name caught her attention.

“Y-yes…”

Your hands gripped her shoulders as you continued to ride her. “Then hold it, baby. If you're good you’re going to hold it until Mommy says you can come…” You increase the pace slightly, your own pleasure building as you feel him throb inside you. “That's it... just hold on…”

Her face scrunches up in concentration, her hands bruising your waist. “M-Mommy... it's...it's too much...I can't... I can't hold it…” she whines pitifully, his voice filled with need and desperation. “Please…”

“No, baby. You hold it. You can do it. Mommy knows you're strong…” You lean back further, grinding down onto her, your abdominal muscles flexing, “and you’re good, you can do it baby.”

Natasha lets out a high-pitched whine, her body trembling as she tries her best to obey. “I-I'm trying...Mommy...I'm trying to be good…” her body stiffens, her back arching slightly as she struggles to hold back.

You lean in close, your voice dropping to a low, soothing tone. “That's my baby... You're doing so well... just a little longer…”

Her face flushed with heat, her pupils dilating as she watched you with an agape mouth, riding her. Suddenly, her expression turns defiant.

“Fuck...maybe I wanna be bad,” she grips your hips tightly and begins to thrust up into you, ignoring your command. “Fuck, mommy I wanna be bad.”

You’re taken aback by her sudden defiance, your eyes widening in surprise. “Natasha... baby, no...oh! ” Your voice trails off as she continues to thrust into you deliciously.

“Shit baby, fuck you’re so strong!”

So now, it's you who's trying to hold back, but Natasha’s sudden burst of strength is overwhelming. She's too powerful, too determined. Her thrusts become brutal, pounding into you with relentless intensity. You're trapped, pinned on top of her dominant form, unable to escape the force of her desires.

“Natty…baby stop…”

“I can't stop, Mommy…” she moans, her body tensing as she reaches her limit. “I... I'm gonna...I'm gonna come...I'm gonna come inside you…” she throws her head towards your shoulder, her movements become erratic, her hips bucking wildly as she empties himself into you. You're left shocked, gasping, trapped on top of her as she finds her release.

“Turn around...get on your hands and knees…”

“Wha—”

Your shocked expression quickly turns into one of pleasure as Natasha’s dominant commands wash over you. You scramble to obey, turning around and dropping to your hands and knees. Natasha stands up, her hands gripping your hips as she holds you in place. “Good...my good girl... Now stay like that…”

As Natasha starts to move behind you, you feel a surge of emotion. Shock, awe, and a touch of humiliation mix together. You never imagined that she would take control like this, especially after she’d seem like the one to submit. Now, the roles are reversed, and you’re the one being taken.

Natasha's grip tightens around your hips as he begins to thrust into you from behind. The angle is different, deeper, and you can't help but let out a moan. “You like that, hm, Mommy?” she growls.

“You like being on the other end, don't you?” she thrusts deep, her hips slapping against your ass. “Answer me…” her hand reaches around, finding your most intimate spot. “Answer me or I'll stop…” she teases you mercilessly.

“Yesyesyes!”

Natasha suddenly pulls out, lifting you up and carrying you to the edge of the bed. She sits down, easily manhandling you over her lap. Your back rests against her chest as her hands held your thighs, keeping your legs wide open as she slides her cock back into your wetness.

She spreads your thighs wider, her knees pushing yours apart as she continues to pound into you. Her touch is unyielding, her rhythm punishing.

“Hold your thigh…” she took your hand and put it to keep your thigh up. “Hold...hold the other...hold both…” she commands, her breath hot against your neck. You comply, your hands gripping your thighs tightly as her strong hand comes down to string your throbbing clit.

“Oh God...Oh God, Natasha...Please... I can't...I can't take it anymore…” Your cries fill the room, your tits bouncing as she pounded inside you.

You threw your head back against Natasha's shoulder, exhausted from your struggles. She reaches up, her hand cupping your jaw and turning your head. Her mouth descends on yours, swallowing your moans. Her tongue slips past your lips, dueling with yours as she continues to pound into you.

You try to wiggle away from her relentless touch, but a strong hand wraps around one of your thighs, pulling you back. “Oh, no you don't…” Natasha's voice breathed in your ear, her hold was strong to keep your legs apart.

Her fingers never stop their relentless strumming on your clit and her cock pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Come for me, mama…” she whispers in your ear, her voice dark and commanding. “Squirt all over my cock…”

Her words send you over the edge. With a loud cry, you laid your head on her shoulder, your body convulsing as you came undone. You squirt all over her, your juices gushing out as she continues to thrust into you.

“That's it…” Natasha's own release hits her hard. With a final, brutal thrust, she buries herself deep inside you, her body shuddering as she comes. Her hot seed fills you up, spilling out around her still-pulsating cock. You can feel her hot cum mixing with your own fluids, the combined liquid slowly leaking out of you. You can't help but moan at the sensation, your body continuing to spasm when her cock bumped accidentally in your clit.

“You’re so good for me, mama.”

⧗

You wake up to the sound of birds chirping outside. Blinking your eyes open, you find yourself alone in Natasha’s bed. You stretch, wincing slightly at the soreness between your thighs. A quick glance around the room reveals no sign of the girl.

You sit up, rubbing your temples as a wave of guilt and self-disgust washes over you. Post nut clarity hits hard.

“How could I have been so stupid?” You chide yourself, your voice barely a whisper. “I drove four hours just to...to sleep with a stranger on a dating app.”

“Am I really that desperate for a good fuck?” you whisper harshly to yourself.

Panicked, you start searching for your clothes, but they're nowhere to be found. “Where are my clothes?” You mutter, your heart pounding in your chest. Your gaze falls on a large, plain shirt draped over a chair. You grab the shirt, smiling as you read what was printed on it

“The physics is theoretical but the fun is real.”

You quickly slip it on, the fabric swallowing you whole. It reaches down to your mid-thighs, the hem fluttering around your bare legs. You realize with a blush that you're not wearing anything else—just the shirt and your damp underwear.

You decide to take in the surroundings of the woman you slept with last night, it wouldn't be bad wouldn't it? The first thing you notice is how clean and organized Natasha's room is. The walls are adorned with intricate diagrams of solar systems, planets, and stars, each one meticulously labeled and colored. You spot a few custom-made lamps on the desk and shelves, their shapes resembling various celestial bodies that you thought she made herself.

The lamps cast a soft, warm light over the room, their glow mimicking that of distant stars. You see a bookshelf crammed with books on astronomy, physics, and electronics. A large whiteboard takes up one wall, covered in complex mathematical equations and diagrams.

Your gaze drifts downward, landing on a piece of paper on the floor. So you bend down to pick up the paper, smoothing it out on the table as you sit down. At first glance, it appears to be an application of some sort. Your eyes scan the page, taking in the details of information you see.

“Natasha...Alianovna Romanoff,” you smiled as her name tumbled out of your lips. “Beautiful name to moan to...”

“December 3,” you frowned, tilting your head slowly as you read the detail, “2002…” you felt your heart dropped to your stomach.

“22 years old?”

A sound of footsteps and a humming echo from outside the room made you alarmed. Panicked, you gripped the paper and rush towards the door, slipping out just as it creaks open. And there you saw Natasha who was cooking some breakfast.

She looks up as you exited her room, her eyes widening briefly as she takes in your appearance. Your hair was a mess and you're wearing her clothes—her favorite one, the oversized t-shirt clings to the curves of your breasts, revealing the outline of your hardened nipples. The hem barely reaches mid-thigh, revealing your bare legs—and your nude colored panties she herself took off last night.

You march towards her, barefoot, brandishing the application paper like a sword.

“You're 22?!”

“Wha—”

“Your bio says you're 28!”

“Wha—I-I didn't kno—”

“That's bullshit!”

“And I was like...God! I slept with someone who's the same age as my sons.” You mimic the same line you said as you recall the events of what happened weeks ago, sharing every detail with Thena, your best friend. She was in fact, the one who told you to try going on a dating app.

“At least you had a good fuck,” Your eyes widened with Thena's vulgar words but you hesitate for a moment before nodding, your face burning with embarrassment. Because, well, it's true...

“Yeah...it was…” You trail off, unable to meet her gaze.

“Good? Good?” Thena asks pulling the words out of you as she noticed you being hesitant.

“She was so gentle at first, almost shy...let me lead her but once she got going...whew!” You whistled softly, fanning yourself as you laughed.

“And you ghosted her…” You pause mid-laugh at your best friend's reply, you felt like she just slapped the reality across your face.

“I...” you raised your brows, palming your chest as you looked at her, “I didn't, okay, I just left. What would you expect me to do? She lied.” You defend, leaning down to your chair as you glance at your best friend who was eyeing you like she knows all your secrets. And she does though, but not this one.

“She's young, Thena,” you reason, “She'll move on. She'll meet someone new.” You dismiss the idea of Natasha being hurt by your not so sudden disappearance with a wave of your hand. “It's not like we had any emotional attachment or anything. Hell, maybe I am the third girl she had in her apartment that week. Who knows?” You chuckled humorlessly. You really wished you weren't.

“Hm, just fucking.”

“Exactly, just fucking,” you say, mirroring Thena's crude language. “We both needed that at the moment.” You nod confidently, convinced that's all it was—a simple physical need fulfilled, nothing more. But as you continue to talk, a small, secret part of you whispers that it was more than just a physical need. You felt a connection, a spark, something that went beyond the surface level. But you quickly silence that voice, deciding to keep your true feelings buried deep inside because there is no chance on getting back, you had deleted the app so there is no more way to contact her. But going to her place is a different conversation and there is no way in hell you're going to do that.

Sighing heavily, you rub your temples, trying to ward off the sudden headache that's formed.

“Besides, what would my sons think if they knew I was dating someone their age?” you muse aloud, looking at Thena with concern and embarrassment. “They'd probably be disgusted, Thee…I swear…”

“At least you're not robbing the cradle or y'know. It's not like she's underage or anything.”

“Okay, enough, stop justifying her age. She still lied, which I didn't like. I wouldn’t date someone who's the same age as my son and someone who’s younger, period.” You said with a finality making your best friend laugh at your now serious face, she’s really not used to you being like that.

“Gosh, they wouldn't even let me date anyone,” you sighed, slumping back in your chair dramatically, making Thena laugh even harder.

“You’ve got some overprotective babies there.” Thena chuckles between giggles.

You can't help but agree with your best friend, nodding your head in agreement. “Yeah, they are pretty overprotective. I swear, sometimes I think they forget I'm an adult too.” You smiled, remembering that your two sweet boys are coming home today for summer break.

⧗

You are excited and all jumpy thinking that every sound you hear is a knock on a door.

You started preparing for their visit, tidying up your home and making sure everything was just right and in place, especially with their bedrooms. The clock ticked by, and soon enough, finally, you heard a real knock towards the door.

With a quick glance in the mirror to make sure you looked presentable, you went to the door to open it. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves, and then swung the door open.

There they both stood, a cocky smile on their face as they greeted you with a casual “Hey, Mom.”

“Hello my babies.” You almost cried on the spot seeing your grown sons.

“Whatchu cookin’ mama?” your eldest, Mark asked, kissing your forehead before entering the house.

“Your favorite beefy creamy mushroom, baby!” You shout.

“I love you so much, ‘ma!”

Before you could even reply, an arm wrapped around you in a tight embrace, and before you knew it, you were being lifted off the ground, your feet dangling in the air. You squirmed playfully, laughing as you tried to put your weight back down.

“Put me down, you little devil!” You scolded lightheartedly, playfully pushing against your son’s broad shoulders, though secretly enjoying the sweet gesture of your youngest.

As he finally set you down gently, a wide grin still plastered on his face, he let out a sigh and looked at you affectionately.

“I missed you so much, mom.”

“I missed you too, Tony.” You cupped his cheek and pestered him with so many kisses making him giggle.

“I...uhh mama, I hope you wouldn’t mind, I am sorry for telling this to you right now. But I brought a friend over, if that’s fine?” you placed your hands on his shoulders, as he looked at you with his usual puppy-dog eyes, “I owe her big time, I was the reason she’s heartbroken and why her favorite shirt is stolen.”

“Yeah, yeah...” you nodded encouragingly to assure him that it's okay to have some friend over, and the mention of a stolen shirt made you laugh—it was silly you thought.

“Yeah, sure baby…you ca—” you trailed off, your world stopping as you saw the friend your son brought over, standing just few steps behind him.

The friend your son brought over was none other than the person who haunted your dreams every night, the same woman you shared a night with many weeks ago that gave you the most earth-shattering orgasm that not even their father could give.

And you found her looking back at you, her gaze trailing down the shirt you’re wearing that was in fact hers.

“Mom, this is Natasha.”

[shawtuzi]

omg i remember your peaches and coconut fics hows my fav couple especially daddy eren i hope as freaky as ever 🤗☺️☺️

they’re doing soooo good!! you remember that fat rock and big house he promised you?? well he was able to get them for you and much more. take a walk with me real quick babe—

this is 18+ so mdni thank yewww!!! cw include: black coded reader, eren being a dad, some talk about church stuff (not rlly), mentions of sexcapades w jean hehe (literally a whole ass flashback of reader giving them both head), oral m and f receiving, eren eating it over her panties, shoe humping, mentions of a lactation kink, unprotected sex, kinda public sex?? they fuck in a bathroom, creampie bc would it rlly be a fic by me if no one was getting nutted in? NOT PROOFREAD SAWRY </3

“ren? rennyyy,” eren’s eyes cracked open at the sound of your soft voice, quickly connecting with yours. you were sitting on his stomach, hands resting on his chest while your cute lil cross necklace dangled in his face. he shifted his head the tiniest bit to read the alarm clock—

6:37 A.M.

why were you waking him up so early?? it couldn’t be for sex…no…he fucked you back to sleep around two, he couldn’t hear any noise coming from your daughters’ baby monitor, he didn’t see your eldest daughter curled up next to him so what could it be??

“it’s sunday eren.”

fuckkkkk. “oh…right,” eren let out a deep sigh, shutting his eyes once more. it was sunday— which means church, which means seeing his father, which means making pointless small talk with your parents, which means hearing your daughters whine and cry about how tired they are and how they don’t wanna go to the church daycare.

“why don’t we just stay in this sunday hm?” eren said, voice laced with tiredness. he brought his hands to your hips, squeezing the soft flesh tenderly. you giggled, burying your face in his neck that still smelled of his body wash.

“very veryyyy tempting but i promised my mom we’d be there this week, plus we haven’t been in a couple weeks anyway,” you kissed at his neck, making him squeeze your hips harder.

unlike both your guys’ parents you and eren do not attend church every weekend and aren’t quite as religious, especially eren. the only reason he attends is because it’s what you want, and he’s not one to object anything his wife wants so he just sucks it up and goes.

“c’mere,” eren muttered, bringing his hands from your hips to your silky smooth thighs. you leant down and he was quick to capture your lips in a kiss, humming in content when you kissed him back. eren bit down unexpectedly on your bottom lip making you gasp, giving him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth.

you laced your fingers in his soft, brown locks before giving them a harsh tug, breaking the heated kiss. “get ready we leave in an hour….and you may need to take a cold shower,” you giggled, giving his pouting lips one more kiss before making your way to your daughters’ room to wake them. eren glanced down at his semi and threw his head back in annoyance. a cold shower was indeed needed.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“but i don’t wanna go!” your eldest daughter stomped her foot in protest, her big brown eyes welling up with tears. eren sighed, kneeling down to be eye level with her, “it’s just for an hour, see that clock up there? once the little hand is on the 9 mommy and i will get you and we’ll get something special for lunch! how does that sound sweet thing?”

she sniffled and slowly nodded, reaching her arms out to get one last hug from him before you left her with the church daycare. “that’s my girl. mommy, sissy, and i will see you in a bit okay?” he gave her chubby cheek a fat kiss, and wiped her tears before handing her off to the caretaker.

“you’re such a good daddy,” you whispered in eren’s ear, giving the spot below his ear a soft kiss. eren cleared his throat, uttering out a small ‘thank you’. god you were going to be the death of him.

“let me carry this for you,” he didn’t wait for your response, taking the carrier that was holding your youngest. she was fast asleep and by the grace of god hopefully it would stay that way.

you and eren walked hand in hand into the chapel, immediately being greeted by people you’ve known since you were teenagers. you did most of the talking which eren was thankful for, oh how lucky he was to have married a certified yapper.

“y/n?”

you whipped your head around, your mouth dropping slightly in shock. “jean? oh my goodness how are you?” you giggled, bringing him in for a bone crushing hug. eren kissed his teeth, choosing to skip the reunion and instead find your parents to sit with them. you rolled your eyes at him, giggling once more. six years of dating and four years of being married and he still was so possessive. you wouldn’t change a thing about it though.

“he hasn’t changed i see,” jean chuckled, scratching at the scuff on his jaw. you glanced at eren once more, just to find him already looking at the both of you, brows furrowed. “nope…still the same eren we all know and love.” love was an understatement to you though—eren was your moon and stars, your reason for breathing, he was everything to you. he had once told you before—while he was balls deep inside you that he wanted to claim you mind, body, and soul and you would say he definitely succeeded.

you and jean talked for a few more minutes before going your separate ways to find your seats before service started. the second you sat down eren wrapped his strong arms around your waist, pulling you as close as possible. he nuzzled his nose in your hair, internally melting at the smell of peaches and coconut. after all these years it was still your signature scent, and never failed to make his heart beat faster and his dick jump.

“jean sounds like he’s doing pretty good….said he’s been doing a lot of traveling,” you spoke softly, resting your hand on eren’s thigh, leaning into his side. eren hummed, suddenly finding more interest in your sleeping daughter. she was the spitting image of you—absolutely perfect in every way.

eren tensed when he felt you squeeze his thigh, “you alright my love? you’re awfully quiet, you aren’t upset with me for making you come here are you?” you looked at him with those doe eyes and he immediately felt like the biggest asshole in the world.

“of course not baby i never mind coming here with you, you know that. it’s just that i wasn’t expecting him to be here. we haven’t seen him since…you know,” he trailed off, giving your hand a loving squeeze.

it was true—you both hadn’t seen jean since high school which was when your sexcapdes with him were at an all time high. since then eren has never let another man lay a hand on you sexually. you belonged to him and no one else and he belonged to you just as much.

you felt your cheeks get hot at the memories of the three of you messing around, bringing an amused smirk to eren’s face. as much as he was annoyed to see that man it definitely gave him an incentive to tease you a little about it.

eren glanced over at your parents and his mother who were immersed in their own conversation before leaning in close to you. “remember when you sucked us both off at the same time? you looked so pretty, especially with both our nut on your face. remember that baby?” you gasped at his language, elbowing him in the side making him laugh.

before he could say anything else the service finally started. about fifteen minutes into eren’s dad speaking you felt eren’s thumb begin to rub soft circles on your hip, giving it a firm squeeze every now and again. why oh why did he have to bring up those memories of you with him and jean—now it was all your mind could think about.

*flashback*

“a-ah shit! just like that baby,” eren growled at the way you choked around his dick, spit dripping from your chin and onto the new floral printed dress he’d bought for you. while you were using your mouth on eren your free hand was occupied with jean, stroking his dick in the best way possible.

every time you’d gag harshly around eren your hands would accidentally squeeze his tip a little too hard, causing a symphony of moans to slip past his lips—which also happened to have your cherry flavored lip gloss smeared across them. “sucking us so good baby mmh fuck—thank you. say thank you dickhead,” eren growled elbowing jean in the side. your pulled eren out of your mouth with a pop! quickly engulfing jean’s dick in your warm mouth.

jean’s head fell back against the wall, his adams apple bobbing. “t-thank you y/n, thank you so much,” his voice sounding whiny and breathy, and he might’ve cared sounding like that in front of eren if you weren’t making him feel so sooo good. you hummed around his dick, your tongue licking the underside of him to bring him closer to his orgasm.

your jaw was aching and the whole lower side of your face was covered with spit and their pre but you were as content as could be. the way you squeezed your thighs together didn’t go unnoticed by eren, so him being the sweet boyfriend he was gently nudged your thighs apart before pressing his shoe against your pussy. you wasted no time humping his shoe, your little mewls and moans making shivers crawl up jean’s spine.

eren nudged jean, a devilish smirk on his kiss swollen lips. “see the way she’s humping my shoe like a little slut? you fucking wish huh?” he chuckled, his head tilting back in pleasure when you began to play with his balls. jean’s nostrils flared as he took in the way you desperately ground your pussy against eren’s shoe.

“she’s so wet—fuck how is she so wet just from this?” eren let out a breathy laugh because jean did sound genuinely astonished at how soaked you were. “see the way her panties are sticking to her pussy? she’s soaked,” eren pressed his shoe harder against your pussy, snickering at the way your hips stuttered.

it was too much for jean. the way your plump lips suckled on his tip, the way your hand squeezed his base just right, and worst of all—the lewd wet noises coming from your pussy just from humping on eren. “i’m not g’nna last s-she’s gonna make me cum, you’re gonna make me cum y/n—”

“not in her fucking mouth you aren’t, how ‘bout we finish on her face? would you like that baby?” eren gripped onto your hair, pulling your off jean’s dick with the tiniest bit of force. your chest heaved up and down as you licked a your swollen lips. the way you looked at him—oh he could’ve taken you right there jean watching or not.

you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and nodded, the sweetest smile now gracing your lips. “yes—please finish on my face,” your hands began to stroke both of their dicks once again, your pussy throbbing at the way they both twitched and throbbed in your hands.

jean was the first to let go of course once he saw you open your mouth, tongue sticking out of course. eren was quick to follow, both of their cum landing on your face in quick spurts. “what a fucking sight this is” eren bit his lip, running his dick over your lips, a chill running down his spine when he felt you suckle on it.

*flashback over*

you felt a particularly harsh squeeze on your side breaking you out of your thoughts. “you’re awfully quiet, i bet you were thinking about it huh? dirty little thing,” eren let out a low chuckle, pulling you impossibly closer to his body. “didn’t we fuck you at the same time that day too? poor thing you were so sore afterwards having two dicks in that little pussy—”

you gasped at his foul language, catching the attention of your parents. “you alright y/n?” your mother asked making you even more flustered. you looked up at eren, then to your mother before standing up. eren’s brows furrowed in confusion when you reached your hand out to him, but he gladly took it anyway.

“my chest is feeling a little sore….i think i just need to go pump or something. do you guys minding watching her for a minute? we’ll be super quick thank you!” you didn’t give them much time to respond before you were dragging eren out of the chapel.

eren pulled you back, stopping you in your tracks, “do you really need to pump? i don’t think i brought the machine with me but i don’t mind leaving to g—” eren was cut off by your lips crashing against his, your hands clutching onto his dress shirt for dear life.

“m’fine ren *kiss* jus’ need you *kiss kiss* really bad” you words were muffled due to your lips never leaving eren’s, but he understood you just fine.

eren grabbed your trembling hand and led you to the nearest bathroom, ushering you into the closest stall the second you entered. “when’s the last time i fucked you here?” eren asked quietly, pushing your front against the stall door. you whined at the sloppy kisses he began to leave on your shoulders and neck, your backside pushing against his growing erection.

“u-um i think it was years ago when—hah! w-we were teenagers,” you let out a breathless laugh at the memory of you both crammed in this same stall, your legs thrown over both his shoulders while he devoured your pussy. eren began to kiss down your neck, then your back until he was kneeling down, face to face with your dress covered backside.

he slowly lifted up your dress, his big hands roaming all around your ass and the fat of your thighs. “m’glad you remember, that’s one of my favorite memories of us. the number one being the day i married you of course,” he chuckled, spreading your ass cheeks to get a glimpse of your already soaked pussy. he licked his lips before taking a long, fat lick up your center, chuckling when he heard you gasp.

even though you were still wearing your panties he could still taste the sweet, yet tangy taste that was you—his beautiful oh so sweet wife. you both stayed like that for a few moments before eren got impatient and yanked your panties to the side, his lips finding your swollen clit with ease.

“r-renny, not so loudddd” you sniffled, reaching your hand back to pull at his hair, running his perfectly styled bun but he didn’t mind in the slightest. your pleas for him to quiet down went in one ear and out the other because if anything it sounded like he was slurping on your pussy even louder than beforehand.

it didn’t take long before you were cumming all over eren’s tongue, your knees nearly buckling at the way he continued to suck on your sensitive clit. “fuck i’ll never get sick of eating this pussy,” eren ran his tongue over his lips and chin, fighting the urge to dive back in just so you could squirt on his tongue.

“gotta make this quick honey, don’t wanna keep everyone waiting too long yeah?” eren kept you facing forward, your back now arched, glistening pussy on display waiting for him to finally fuck you. he ran his tip between your folds, shuddering at how warm you felt.

without warning eren rammed his hips forward, forcing a broken moan to leave your lips. eren was quick to cover your mouth with his hand, hissing when he felt you bite down on the skin. “sorry baby m’sorry,” eren cooed, coating your neck in wet kisses while his free hand wasted no time toying with your clit. his pace was quick and brutal, the sound of skin slapping echoing throughout the bathroom.

“mmph—renny,” he heard your muffled voice and removed his hand, gripping your chin to force you to look at him. “what is it baby? what do you need from daddy hm? i’m fucking you good ain’t i?” eren looked down and cracked the smallest smile at the way your pussy was sucking him in, a white sheen of your cream coating his base.

you didn’t say anything, instead you stuck out your tongue waiting for eren to do what he did best—give you the sloppiest fucking kiss you’ve received, each time nastier than the last. eren chuckled and wasted no time sucking your tongue into his mouth, moaning into the kiss. you eyes rolled into the back of your head, your pussy clenching onto eren’s dick like a vice. oh how you lived for his kisses.

eren changed his strokes to deep and slow, trying in any way to contain the loud squelching noise from your cunt. “ah ah ah! o-oh m-my,” you bit down harshly on your bottom lip making eren tisk.

“c’mon baby say what you were gonna say he’s listening,” eren growled, pinching your clit between his fingers. if it weren’t for eren holding you up you surely would’ve collapsed.

“oh my god! e-rennnn,” your thighs tensed as eren fucked you through your orgasm, droplets of your cum dripping to the floor. “fuck yeah that’s it baby, scream for your god let ‘em know who’s fucking this pussy,” eren rolled his hips in a way that had your eyes crossing, the feeling of another orgasm already approaching.

eren released his grip on your chin, his hands now finding purchase on your hips, ramming into you with everything he had. “s’good,” he hummed, giving your ass three quick swats.

“so *thrust* fucking *harder thrust* good *really hard thrust*”

your hands scrambled to find something—anything to grab onto, your legs felt like jelly, you body slowly sliding down which each brutal thrust. “nope get up—stand up straight like a good girl,” eren growled, lifting your body up once more. you were practically on your tippy toes, tongue lolled out, and eyes crossed as eren treated you like his own personal fuck toy.

he’s so damn strong. you could feel his muscles bulging through his dress shirt, his abs that he’s maintained all these years making the most delicious clapping sounds against your ass.

“s-shit m’gonna cum, where you want it honey,” eren let out a shaky breath, balls tightening when he felt you squeeze around him for the umpteenth time. your brain was scrambled, the only form of communication you were able to give him is a whine, your mouth slowly dropping open.

“mmph alright baby i’ll give it to you,” eren gave you three more toe curling thrusts before you came with a squeal, white dots taking over your vision. eren cursed when he felt himself already cumming, quickly pulling out and pushing you to your knees. he slipped his thumb in your mouth, pushing down on your tongue to open your mouth wider before releasing the rest of his cum on your awaiting tongue.

you hummed at the taste of him, taking more of his dick into your mouth with ease. eren’s breath hitched, his thighs tensing up from overstimulation. eren gently pulled you away from his cock, a line of spit connecting your lips to the tip. “i think i got a little inside m’sorry baby” he puffed air from his cheeks, tucking himself back in his dress pants.

eren gently lifted you from the floor, making sure your body was steady before bringing you in a tight embrace. you nuzzled your face into his chest, breathing in the intoxicating scent of his cologne.

“you good?” he whispered into your hair, gently stroke your lower back. you nodded, holding onto him tighter, whining when you felt his cum drip down the inside of your thigh. “clean it up,” you mumbled into his shirt, your cheeks flaming hot.

eren let out a low chuckle, muttering out a soft ‘m’kay sweet thing’ before pushing your back against the stall once more. he made quick work putting your leg over his shoulder, licking and sucking at your thighs, cleaning up his cum like the good lil husband he was.

once he was finished he gave your clit a soft kiss, letting out a breathy laugh when he felt you smack the side of his head. “i’m done i’m done, now let’s get outta here before people start to wonder where we are,” he figured your parents were already wondering you two had gone off too but he rlly didn’t give a damn—not when you just gave him one of the best nuts he’s ever had.

just as you two were leaving the restroom you bumped into—of course jean fucking kirstein. “what are you doing?” eren asked, wrapping his arm around you, pulling you into his side. jean looked at the bathroom door then back at eren, “um using the bathroom? what were you two doing?” he cocked his eyebrow, tilting his head to the side.

you both didn’t say anything, but the fucked out looked on your face and eren’s shit eating grin told him everything he needed to know. “you guys are gross….now if you’ll excuse me,” jean cleared his throat, brushing past you and eren to get into the restroom.

you buried your face in eren’s side in embarrassment making his laugh. “don’t get all worked up doll, you know he won’t say shit—probably in there right now jerking it to the thought fucking you,” eren gave your hip a possessive squeeze, guiding you to the chapel.

fortunately for him service was just finishing up.

“there you two are! you missed the whole thing, what took so long?” your mother rushed up to you both, you could see the tiniest bit of frustration in her eyes.

eren took the carrier that was holding your daughter from her, “she just had to pump sorry we took so long mrs. y/l/n. we’ll be sure to join you next sunday to make up for it i promise” eren used the most sincere tone he could, he gave your hip a loving squeeze when he felt you relax into his touch. “now if you’ll excuse us we gotta get genesis,” you both bid your parents farewell before making your way to the basement where the sounds of screaming children and parents could be heard.

“there’s my sweet girl!” you giggled, giving your daughter a bear hug when she jumped into your arms. eren leant down to give her forehead a kiss, “see? that wasn’t too bad now was? now let’s go get something yummy to eat! daddy’s starving,” he whispered the last part in your ear, giving your behind a pinch making you jump.

“don’t worry i’ll make sure you’re nice and fed i promise,” you giggled giving him three quick kisses on his jaw. eren gave you a toothy grin, ecstatic because he knew you’d keep your promise.

and that my friends is how peaches and coconut! eren and his wifey are living <3

[tj-is-down]

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy (Tyler Owens x Reader)

Back again with another random fic for y'all. This is not proofread, so don't hate me!

Summary: Tyler and the reader have been on and off "together" for years now, keeping it secret. Until, suddenly, one of them decides they might want more.

Word count: ~2.1k

Warnings: None except some swearing, and reader is described femininely in this one.

Here’s the thing about Humble Creek: everybody knows everybody. A small town made up of just under five thousand, there was nothing that anybody could do in secret, because if one person knew, then it was just as if they’d taken a bullhorn and announced it to the entire town.

Which made Y/N’s life all the harder. See, she did have a secret, and although it hadn’t gotten out yet, its secrecy was held in the hands of a monster. A tyrant, a tool, a pain-in-the-ass douchebag with a cowboy hat and a Texas accent.

Tyler Owens.

Y/N had known he was trouble since they were kids. Growing up on rival ranches, they were destined to be enemies, and even more so, to blur the lines. Y/N had never trusted him. Not because their families were constantly fighting, as she believed everybody deserved their own chance to prove themself, but because he had fucked his up, royally. 

In elementary school, middle school, high school, Tyler was always the talk of the town. Always with a girl on his arm, Tyler was confident, and everybody else was just putty in his hands. Y/N told herself she didn’t understand what people saw in him. 

She lied.

It started in eighth grade, when Tyler showed up in a too-big tux and a bouquet of flowers he’d handpicked from his family’s garden.

“You wanna go to the dance?” He asked, grinning cockily. Even then he knew how to charm, before he even knew what charm was.

Y/N’s dad had said no, absolutely no way, but Y/N was in her rebellious phase and so this only pushed her to say yes. She went out right then, in her mud-stained t-shirt and jeans, and they’d walked to the school together at seven p.m. and walked home together at nine. He’d kissed her cheek goodnight and she’d wiped it off, embarrassed.

“You’re annoying, Owens.”

“And you’re pretty, L/N.”

On the next Monday he came to school with Cherry Lee.

Y/N tried to be mad. She tried to hate Tyler, to swear that she’d never talk to him or think about him or even look at him ever again. But two months later, when Tyler and Cherry broke up, he’d knocked on her door when he knew her parents weren’t home and, against her better judgment, she’d let him inside.

They’d been on-and-off “together” ever since.

Now, Tyler wasn’t single for long intervals, usually just a couple of weeks here and there, and he would never cheat, nor would Y/N let herself become a homewrecker (no matter how fragile the relationship), but when Tyler showed up on her doorstep, bouquet in hands and that look in his eyes, she knew she couldn’t say no. 

She was an adult now, but still, she couldn’t resist those eyes. Tyler had been single since before leaving for college, and when he came back it was like he’d never left. Sure, now he had a truck, a big name, a crew, and a YouTube channel, but he still had those eyes, and his family still had a garden with a never-ending supply of flowers.

He showed up on her door one morning, after her parents had left for church.

“Can I help you?” She asked, opening the door. As always, a t-shirt and jeans, dirty from the morning’s work on the farm.

“You’re not at church?”

“You knew I wouldn’t be.”

“Well, maybe the two and I can practice praying on our own? I think the first step is kneeling down; you wanna start?”

Y/N went to close the door, but Tyler’s hand reached out to prop it open.

“Come on, Darlin’,” he said, laying the accent on thick. “You want to go for a drive? I’ll buy you a coffee.”

“Hold the coffee,” she said, walking past him. “I’d rather not have anyone see us together.”

He grabbed her waist and stood behind her, kissing her neck. “We’ve been doing this for years, babe. No one’s gonna find out, I promise.”

She leaned her head towards him, breathing in the scent of firewood mixed with his cologne. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“You gettin’ sappy on me?” He asked. Though his voice was soft, she could feel his smirk.

“Nope.” She pulled out of his grasp and got into the passenger seat of his truck. “We going, or are you just gonna stand there looking all doe-eyed?”

“For you, I’d stand here all day, sweetheart.”

“Just get in the car, Romeo.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

*** 

They drove for a while, to the outskirts of town, when Tyler stopped the truck and leaned over. He kissed her lips, hard and slow, putting his hand on the back of her neck to pull her closer. She reciprocated, holding his bicep, moving her mouth in tandem with his and letting herself fall into him.

“Why are you being so love-y today?” She asked after they separated.

“I can’t show my girl some love?”

“Is that what I am? ‘Your girl’?”

He shrugged. “Is that so bad?”

“You’re annoying, Owens.” She pushed his shoulder.

He mock-pushed her back as he said, “You’re pretty, L/N.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Seriously, though, there is something I wanted to talk to you about—”

Y/N scoffed. “Are you about to ask me out?”

“Well, no, but—”

“Okay, good.”

“Would that be so bad of me?”

“Kinda.” Y/N breathed a laugh, but when she saw Tyler’s face, serious and a little upset, she stopped. “I mean, it’s not like we have the best thing going on here anyways, and I just don’t want to be—” She paused, about to say heartbroken, or used, or a placeholder for when you find someone better, but Tyler cut her off.

“Yeah, you’re right.” He started the truck, engine roaring to life. “It was dumb, nevermind. I’ll take you home.”

“Tyler, you know what I meant—”

“Yeah, yeah. We’re just messing around, right? That’s all this is, just messing around.”

He didn’t say another word on the ride home. 

He dropped her off, barely waiting for her to shut the truck door before he drove away.

***

Tyler didn’t answer any of Y/N’s calls or texts for the next few days. Y/N was upset, barely leaving her room checking her phone obsessively for any sign of Tyler Owens. She even started watching his YouTube channel, but there hadn’t been any uploads for over a month. Nothing on Instagram or Facebook, either.

Her mother yelled up the stairs to her one night, calling her down.

“That’s what you’re wearing?” Her mom said upon seeing Y/N.

“This is what I always wear. Why?” Y/N was suddenly self conscious, confused as to why her parents cared what she wore in the house.

“Tonight’s the fair,” her mother responded, attempting to jog her memory.

“You’re helping us run our booth?” Her father tried.

“Ah, shit,” Y/N mumbled, remembering. “Do I have to go? I totally forgot.”

“Of course you have to go!” Her father said. “We need the three of us there; it’s a family ranch, remember?”

“Besides,” her mother added. “The Owens’s will be there. We can’t let them get a leg up on us! If you’re not there, Tyler will be running the show for sure.”

“Well, maybe not,” her father said. “He’s doing the kissing booth, remember?”

“The what?” Y/N said. “Tyler’s doing a kissing booth?”

Her father nodded. “To raise funds for his family’s ranch. He and his whole ‘team’ will be there, whatever they’re called.”

Y/N paused for a moment, trying to wrap her head around it all. Was that what Tyler was trying to talk to her about the other day? The kissing booth? But why would it matter what Y/N thought about it?

Her mother ushered her up the stairs. “For Pete’s sake, change into something nice, and quickly!”

Oh, shit.

***

The Humble Creek Fair was bustling with energy. People from nearby towns came to see what it was all about, and it was always the most popular time of year.

Y/N sat at her family’s booth, eyes peeled for Tyler. She kept checking her phone to see if he’d answered, but when she didn’t get any notifications she decided to take matters into her own hands.

“I’m going for a walk,” she said to her parents.

They both nodded, and her father added, “Make sure to see how the Owens’ booth is doing. I want to make sure we’ll still be in business next year.”

Y/N looked around for the kissing booth, and when she saw a long line of women, she followed it to the front. She walked around to the back of the attraction, but didn’t see Tyler anywhere. It wasn’t until she’d nearly given up entirely when she heard a voice behind her.

“What are you wearing?”

She whisked around, coming face-to-face with Tyler, who was holding some sort of weird meat on a stick.

“What are you eating?”

“Pork leg, fried and marinated in pickle juice,” he said, shrugging. “I’m hoping it’ll make my breath smell bad so less people come up. Now, back to you.”

“What about me?”

“You’re wearing a dress. You never wear dresses. ‘Jeans and a t-shirt, that’s me,’” he says, doing a poor impression of her.

“I don’t sound like that.”

“Yes you do, but that’s besides the point. What’s your deal?”

Y/N shrugged uncomfortably. “I wanted to, I guess.”

Tyler looked at her dead-on. “You look nice, Y/N.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve been texting you for days. No response. But now that I’m here, all I get is, ‘I look nice’?” 

“What else do you want from me?”

“An answer, Tyler. What’s your deal? Why didn’t you tell me about the kissing booth?”

“I tried to, but then you came at me with all that ‘this is a bad idea’ crap, and I figured you didn’t want me to tell you. Or you didn’t care if I told you or not.”

“Okay, so—”

“Wait.” He stops her. “Do you care?”

Y/N kicks the ground. “If I did?”

“If you did,” he said, stepping closer to her. “I’d drop the pork leg and kiss you.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I’d eat the pork leg, and I’d kiss a bunch of people who aren’t you, and I’d feel like shit about it.” He took another step closer to her, nearly closing the gap between them. “Please say you care.”

“Ugh,” she scoffed. “You’re gonna make me say it? You can’t just, like, infer from the situation?”

“I’m really bad at inferring things,” he said, a cocky grin on his face. “So, I’m gonna need to hear you say it.”

“You’re annoying, Owens.”

“You’re pretty, L/N. Like, so pretty. But I do need to hear you say it, and I’m also gonna need you to—”

“I care, Tyler. Now shut up and kiss me, or I’m gonna take it back.”

“Can’t take it back, babe. It’s set in stone.”

In one fluid motion, he dropped the pork leg, grabbed Y/N by the waist with his other hand, and pulled her into a kiss. It was deep and passionate, not like any of the other times they’ve kissed. They kept it going for as long as they can, holding their breath until they couldn’t anymore, and then they pulled apart, gasping for air with their foreheads touching.

“Will you go out with me?” He asked her, still struggling for air. “Like, on a real date, not just driving in the truck?”

“I guess,” Y/N said, teasingly. “If I have to.”

“I mean, you don’t have to. But if you do, I’m gonna need you to wear this again.” He grabbed her and pulled her closer to him, if that’s even possible. “Because, if I’m being honest, L/N, this is the hottest I’ve ever seen you. Like, I didn’t think you could get hotter, but here we are. Speaking of, can we go? I really want to go somewhere with you. Like, privately.” He winked at her, and she scoffed, rolling her eyes again.

“Don’t you need to raise money for your farm?” She asked him, gesturing to the booth behind them.

“Fuck the farm,” he said. “Save a horse, ride a cowboy, yeah?”

“Fuck off,” she said, pulling him into another kiss.

“Seriously though, can we go?”

[harrytheehottie]

JUNO

WORD COUNT: 2K MASTERLIST this is a part of the short & sweet fic challenge @harry-on-broadway let me know what you think 💘 hope you enjoy!

The sun was casting a warm golden glow through the windows of your living room as you sat on the couch. Harry was in the kitchen making your nightly tea as you rested on the sofa. It was a peaceful evening, like many that you have shared over the last three years. This familiar feeling and routine was something you cherished especially with the hectic schedule Harry’s life could bring.

A year ago, he finished his two year long world tour. It was an incredible feat and one that was an emotional roller coaster since it began. He had his entire life planned from the minute we all went into lockdown to the final show in Italy and these last seven months were spent just making up for lost time. He was always home when you came back from work, he was the one that was traveling on your schedule and your terms. It was a great change from how your relationship was before. You didn’t have to anticipate the day that he was going to go away for weeks at a time because you were a part of that decision making now and it only made the two of you stronger as a unit. 

You glanced at the framed photos on the mantel: you and Harry in various stages over the last three years--goofing around backstage at Coachella, the night he turned his green room in MSG into a home theater and begged security to let you two spend the night after you just got off a six hour flight to surprise him for his last show. It was the simple moments that were your favorite, the picture of you walking through the Heath, a cup of coffee and pastries in tow for your favorite weekend tradition of a Saturday morning picnic. 

This was the first year that you were able to think about the future just as it pertained to you and Harry. You didn’t have to think about how your life decisions factored into anyone else's. You always knew you wanted to have a family. He was always going above and beyond for the children in his life not just by spoiling them with gifts but checking up on them and making sure they knew that he was always there. And this became more apparent when he became an Uncle. He was always the first to offer up babysitting so his sister and her partner could enjoy some quality time, even making the trek up to Cheshire to watch his cousin's children if they asked.

So, when Harry walked back into the living room with a cup of tea for you and snacks for himself you sort of blurted it out before you had the chance to second guess the right time for this conversation. 

“I’m ready to have a baby.”

Harry’s eyes widened, completely caught off guard, “What?” almost second guessing what you just said. 

You take a deep breath, your heart racing realizing that you are not going to be able to take those words back. “I’ve just been thinking, we have talked about the future a lot as this far-fetched idea but we’re here now and…” you paused looking up at him, his expression shifting from the initial shock, he leaned closer, taking your hands in his. You knew how Harry worked and the subtle shift in energy was all you needed to continue, “I know not to think, I know I’m ready… for that next step.” 

A moment of silence stretched between you as he processed your words “You really mean that?”

“More than anything,” you admitted, looking into his eyes. “I can’t imagine going through that journey with anyone else. And it just feels good right now, us, we are so good right now and there is just no reason to wait.” 

Harry’s expression softened, and you could see the wheels turning in his mind. “It’s a big step, probably one of the biggest steps we will ever take together.” 

“Will we ever truly be ready?” You chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood. “Life is unpredictable, but I want this with you.I want to build a family together.”

He was quiet for a moment, his gaze drifting to the window. “I’ve thought about it too,” he finally said, turning back to you. “I want that. I’ve always wanted it honestly. I remember the first time you met Ruby and the way she was instantly drawn to you. S’probably when the thought first crossed my mind.”

You remembered that day. You were so incredibly nervous to meet Harry’s close group of friends. It was Ruby -- his God daughter’s 4th birthday. You had only been dating for around three months at that point. You remember stressing about what to buy her as a gift and even though Harry promised no one would think twice if you showed up empty handed. You still scoured the internet looking up every list of ‘best gifts for a 4 year old girl’ and settled on a Peppa Pig Camper Playset with all the characters. And to say it was a hit was an understatement. The two of you still joke about how as soon as Ruby opened her present she demanded that you stay after to set up the toy and play with her. 

Harry remembers watching the way you were interacting with Ruby and how her father, Ben made a comment about how he had never seen Harry so fixated on someone before like he had you. It was still early days but he always went back to that moment and how it led you to where you are now. 

“So, are we ready to do this?” You asked with a mix of excitement and nervousness in your voice. 

“You know, if we really want to be serious about this. We’re going to have to start practicing.” Harry teased pulling you closer to him. The warmth of his body against yours as his lips met yours. The kiss was soft at first, tentative like he was emphasizing the importance of the moment you just shared.  

You pulled away first, a smirk on your face, “Hmm.. practice? I’m feeling a little tired right now,” You teased with a wide yawn stretching your arms over your head. The playful banter that you know drives him crazy. Harry moves his hands to cup your face, his thumb glazing over your lips again, “C’mere” he whispers. He begins kissing down your neck, leaving small kisses along his path from his lips. You move your hands through his hair, as he scoots back on the couch, pushing your shirt up in the process and you help to take it off.

The kisses continue. He’s moving down your neck, between your cleavage and he stops right at the top of your stomach. His hands that were holding yours moved to touch your belly — picturing what was going to happen next. The commitment to a family and how you would be the home for his future baby. You were almost tearing up at the sight of him and just how careful he was already, always putting your needs first and making you his priority. 

“You’re gonna have to use your words, baby,” You whisper as Harry moves his hands to the waist of your pants. You are already ready for him and he knew it just by how much you were wiggling under him trying to get him to move faster.

“I want you,” he says in a low breathy tone before helping you get your pants off. You move your weight onto your forearms to get a good view of him. You watch as Harry slides your underwear to the side, a rush of pleasure washing over the both of you. “So wet for me…” leaving his lips as he moves his fingers up and down your slit. The juxtaposition of the sexyness and tenderness of the moment right as he slid one and quickly two digits in pushing his fingers in and out. The pleasure washing over your body, the whimper of ‘Oh yes’ and ‘Baby’ a moan escaping your lips as you rode out your first orgasm. 

His lips are immediately back on yours as you slide your hand into his pants pushing his joggers off trying to keep every part of your body touching. After being in a relationship for three years you still periodically used contraceptives especially when you are in the thick of it with his work never wanting anything to come in the way of jeopardizing this unspoken tension between the two of you. And tonight, was going to be and feel different, no more trying to locate the last spot you left condoms going on stretches of time of just trying the process. This was intentional and you felt the mutual giddyness as you slid your hand down his length pumping him once, twice, three times before Harry is ready for you. 

“M’not gonna last very long,” he says before aligning your hips before pushing in deep. Taking a couple of deep breaths as you move your hips along with Harry as you adjust to the familiar feeling of him inside you. Harry leans his head toward you leaving kisses all over him, your nails dragging up and down his back. 

“Tell me it feels good,” You whispered the sounds of your mutual pleasure echoing in the room. 

“Feels so fuckin’ good, always s’fuckin good” Harry was moving faste and harder meeting your gaze right before letting himself go inside you. His body collapsing on top of you as both tried to catch your breath from the pleasure. You had your arms wrapped around his body wanting to keep the warmth of his body on you forever. 

You cleaned yourselves up and spent the rest of the night thinking about your future and how you were going to take that next step forward. Harry was your safe space and you were his. You both knew that this next step forward would be unlike anything you’ve done before but you were both ready, as a team to make this next step. 

And one day, you will be in this same living room waiting for Harry to finish making a bottle for your future baby - and boy, could you not wait. 

[targs-on-zorses]

A Good Night - PREVIEW

Pairing - Cregan Stark x Reader Warnings - Nonthing in this preview, smut in the final fic though Summary - “A good night then, my Lord?” he said, loud enough for you to hear. You blushed deeper. Cregan glanced at himself, seeing the marks and smiling.

A/N: Full fic coming this week! This one has been a long time coming. I hope you will like the full thing when it comes this week! In the meantime, enjoy this preview:

It does not take you long to find him in the throng of moving men. He stands taller than most. The Greatsword, Ice, being far larger than any sword you have ever seen.

You arrive to find him deep in his sparring with his good friend Arnolf of House Locke. Shirt mercifully still on. The ancestral sword of his house, Ice, glinting sharp and deadly in the soft morning light. You would be afraid for poor Arnolf if it weren’t for the fact you knew his skill at dodging a blade.

His other friend, Maynard Knott, prepared to spar nearby. 

You stood some distance away, not wanting to accidentally walk into the path of an axe or a sword, or whatever weapon someone had chosen for today. Your worst fear was being thwacked in the head with a morning star, a terrible weapon with the head of a mace attached to a chain.

Cregan had Arnolf flat on his behind with a few twirls of Ice. The man laughed, gracefully accepting his defeat, and the outstretched hand of his lord to get back on his feet. “It is an honour to be bested by my Lord Stark,” he panted. “At least you are still better than me.” Cregan laughed, the rich sound carrying across the sparring grounds.

As he walked to his starting position, ready to fight Manyard, Cregan lifted the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead. You took the chance to ogle and the light muscle of his belly. And you were not the only one staring at your Lord. You felt the bitter bit of jealousy, before pushing it away. Cregan did not care for those women who had thrown themselves at him. No. He only saw you, and no other.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just One Reason: When We Met

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

masterlist - to be added

Summary: A chance encounter at the sandwich shop doesn't end how you expect.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

As you approach the sandwich shop, another pedestrian comes up from the other side. You open the door and hold it for them, waiting patiently for them to go first. The place isn’t very busy, you can wait an extra turn to get your food. 

The man barely acknowledges you as he enters. You’re used to that. In the city, manners run down the gutters with the rain and litter.  

You follow him inside. As he stomps to the counter, poking his ear in agitation, you stand back in a single-person queue. You check the chalkboard menu for the soups of the day. Oh, cabbage. They make the best cabbage soup you’ve ever had. 

You bounce on your heels as your gaze wanders over the monochrome wall art over the handcrafted wood tables. You open and close the flap of your crossbody purse. Your father always said you flutter like a hummingbird. Never quiet still and a little skittish. 

Behind the glaze of your distraction, the man’s deep snarl breaks through. You blink and lean to see around him. The cashier bats her lashes and puffs out her cheeks, “sorry sir, we discontinued the Mexican wrap, but the chipotle is similar--” 

“I don’t want the fucking chipotle,” he cups his ear and growls as he pushes his head into his hand.  

“They don’t send us the cilantro lime sauce anymore, sir,” the employee explains. “But I could add some peppers--” 

“Can’t you understand me?” He snips. 

“Erm, if you... if you put a bit of cilantro on, it would be close, wouldn’t it?” You ask, cringing as your thoughts spill out without intention. 

The man glares over his shoulder as his cheek pits derisively. He squints and shakes his head. He throws his arms out and faces the cashier again. “Whatever. Give me the damn chipotle with cilantro. I’m starving.” He reaches back for his wallet, “some fucking week...” he mutters. 

He slides the leather wallet above his pocket but it catches and falls from his grasp. He growls and bends to retrieve it. “Another fucking thing...” 

You watch him pick up his wallet and finger his ear again. It seems to cause him pain. The cashier watches helplessly. You feel bad for both of them. It just seems like a miscommunication. 

“Um, excuse me,” you wave two fingers at the cashier. “Can you add a cabbage soup and I’ll for both?” 

The employee blinks and the man snaps up with a scowl. They both stand in silent surprise. He finally shakes his head. “Why would you do that?” His tone makes it sound like an accusation. 

“I don’t know. Seems like you’re having a bad day and I can?” You shrug and cautiously step forward, “can I also get an iced raspberry tea?” 

“Uhhhh, sure,” the employee keys in the items. 

“Sir, did you want a drink?” You twist back to the man as he stands aside with a leery squint. He just shakes his head. 

“Alright, that’s everything. No cookie today,” you dig in your purse. “Debit, please.” 

She hits total and you pay. The receipt juts out of the machine and you step to the side to wait with one last thanks to the cashier. You tuck your card away and slip your phone out as your hands long to fidget. You know the man is staring, you can feel it, but you don’t want to piss him off even more than he already is. 

The lull that follow is torturous. The man’s wrap is up first and you wait for him to take it. He hesitates and you hand it to him. 

“I hope it’s still good,” you say with a smile at his throat. You’re too scared to look him in the eye. 

“You know I have money,” he grits. 

“Oh, no, that’s not... it isn’t... just a nice thing. Like, maybe one day you can pay it forward. I don’t know,” you rock sheepishly and look behind the counter. 

He nods and backs up. The cashier puts your soup up and your iced tea. You thank her and take your food.  

“Have a good one, sir.” 

You shuffle away to the table in the corner. You sit, self-conscious as the man lingers. Is he mad? You don’t think you were rude. 

The man sighs and goes up to the counter, “hey, look, I’m... sorry,” his words are stiff as if he could choke on them. “Thanks for the wrap.” 

“Oh, uh, okay, sir,” the cashier sounds shocked. “Um, enjoy.” 

You stir the soup and blow away the steam. As you scoop up a spoonful, the man approaches. You look at the velvet toes of his loafers then follow them up. He sits without invitation. 

You stare at him and lower your spoon. 

“Thanks for the wrap,” he says. “I was being a—jerk.” The last word is stunted as if he meant to say something else. “Mind if I eat with you?” 

You look around. The place is empty. You shrug. 

“Sure,” you grab the iced tea and swirl the ice. “Be nice to have company, I guess.” 

He hums and shifts in the chair. He peels away the wrapper and you sip from the straw. You put the cup down and stare into your soup. Your eyes flick up again and you find him staring. 

“Lloyd,” he offers his hand across the table, “but you can just call me that jackass who yells at people.” 

You give your name in return, his change in tone soothing your nerves. 

“You been here before?” He asks. 

“Once in a while,” you say. “When I can afford it. It’s a special treat. They have good soup.” 

He nods and looks down at the wrap, “yeah, food is pretty decent.” He lifts the wrap but doesn’t bite into it. He hovers it before him. “You know, you didn’t have to be nice to me.” 

“You never know what other people are going through. Sometimes, they just need some kindness,” you say. “And if they’re just a butthole, well, you’re not going to change that by matching their energy.” 

His brows arch, and he tilt his head. He sucks in his cheeks thoughtfully, “well, I think I’m just a butthole, as you put it. Thanks for giving me a chance.” 

You don’t know what to say. It’s awkward. You usually eat alone. You don’t have anyone to eat with, not since dad passed. Still, not all change is bad, is it? You’ve already faced the worst kind of change. 

You lean forward and take a bite of your soup. Sometimes making someone’s day easier makes your own a little brighter. As of late, none of them have been more than gloomy. 

[hayatoseyepatch]

𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖗𝖎𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓: Missing you, your boyfriend hated being apart from you. So what happens when he can finally get his hands on you once more?

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘: Gen Narumi & Soshiro Hoshina

𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 2k.

𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖘: Gen Narumi & Soshiro Hoshina x Fem!Reader (seperate). (SMUT). 𝖈𝖜: oral (female receiving), minor impact play, dirty talk, praise, degradation, taking photos, oral (male receiving), marking, mentions of breeding.

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: Two fics in one week? From me? Unheard of. Listen if this isn't proof of how much Kaiju No. 8 has consumed me I don't know what is honestly. I'm still messing around with writing for them and getting a sense of their personalities so please be kind to me. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

Seeing the way you were laid beneath him blurred his mind in a cloud of lust and need. He justified his upcoming actions under false pretenses of you needing a "punishment” from earlier, when in all reality it was his own selfish need to taste you, unable to remember the last time he spent an extended period of time between your soft thighs. So rather than fulfilling your request of filling you with his cock he begins the long and tortuous process of trailing kisses down your frame, grinning against your skin as he feels your body arch into his touch, finally ending his slow descent by tugging the waistband of your panties back with his teeth, shivering in anticipation at the sound of the elastic snapping against your skin. Having enough of his own teasing he leans back groaning upon seeing the drenched material of your panties. “Holy shit babygirl, look at you, you're fucking soaked. And it's all for me, I can't wait to taste you, doll.”

He impatiently gripped the fabric of your drenched panties, tugging it off of your frame in one swift motion. Quick to pocket the article of clothing for later use, before laying flat on his front, settling himself between your legs, hooking a thumb in a fold pulling the skin to the side to expose you fully to his prying eyes. “Jesus, doll, god you're so fucking beautiful, I can't fucking stand it. Gotta commit this shit to memory.” His voice has a gravel, need consuming the octave in which his words are spoken.

He removes his phone from his pocket sliding up to access the camera to snap a photo of your exposed heat, making a mental note to use that the next time he was missing you on a mission, or maybe even send it to a certain vice-captain as a reminder of what he would never be able to get his hands on. Finally, needing to taste you before he drives himself insane, he dives down licking a fat stripe up your center.

Narumi lets his tongue circle your clit, alternating between flattening his tongue and applying just the right amount of pressure to caress the hardened nub, feeling himself getting drunk on the taste of you. “Ge-“ Any words you would try and formulate die on your tongue, getting cut off by his actions, hand flying to his hair to grip at it for leverage. A loud whimper left your lips, a near scream of his name close to follow. “Gen, please, I need you! Please, I love your mouth, but I really want you, I need you so badly.. feel so empty, haven't felt full since last time..”

Your words come out desperate, senseless pleas for him to do something, anything, to qualm the empty feeling of your cunt as it clenched around nothing. Knowing just what to say to push him over the edge and have him give you just what you were craving. Gripping the back of his hair, tugging him away from your cunt enough so you could look at him between your thighs. Eyes clouded with lust as you look into his own, their vermillion barely recognizable, his pupils blown so wide with lust. Your words are purred into the air, knowing that by the end of your sentence, you would have him hook, line, and sinker.

“I really need you to fill me up, Gen. Put a baby inside of me, I need you please, Gen.” You maintained eye contact looking at him between your plump thighs, hearing the groan that bubbled up from his throat in response to your words. For as good as he looked there, the tears that lined your lashline only enforced the need behind your words, the very same need that caused the mess between your legs in the first place. Narumi feels himself being pulled out of his haze only when your words sink in. He debates filling you with his fingers, desperate to get more of a taste of your sweet cunt, but Narumi was nothing if not willing to appease your needs. He could not deny his own needs any longer, the fabric of his pants and the plush of the mattress beneath him doing nothing to qualm his need like burying himself inside you would. Though what really sent him into a frenzy, was one phrase in particular, you always knew just what to say to drive him insane.

“Yeah, doll? Need me to fill that slutty cunt baby? Want me to fold you in half and breed you, princess? Do you want me to really make you a mommy, huh baby? Well, how could I possibly say no?” He smirks, parting from his position between your legs, leaning back on the heels of his feet before ripping down the zipper of his pants. With expert fingers, he was quick to free his aching cock from the confined of his pants, parting your legs further as he gazes at your exposed figure beneath him. Unable to help himself, he lands a harsh slap against your cunt. His grin was feral, your slick glistening against his chin. His hand soon finds a home against your throat, the other gripping the base of his cock lining it up with your entrance. “Tell me, doll, before I ruin you. Who's perfect pussy is this, hm?”

Hoshina never fared well when you both were apart. That proof was evident in the way he was on you the moment you returned to base. The mission your platoon had been dispatched on just so happened to be in his brother’s sector, fueling his need to claim you once more. His lips were all over your skin, sharp canines marking your neck, the darkened skin being his solace the insatiable need to have physical evidence that you belonged to him consuming him. He was always like this when you had to be in the presence of his brother. Their rivalry surviving even after all of these years. Knowing that you decided he deserved a little assurance. This was the only true spot of insecurity, and you intended to let him know just how much he’d never have to worry when it came to you. Stepping forward, gently guided him backward until the backs of his knees came into contact with the edge of the bed, pushing his shoulders until he sat on the mattress.

Now that the both of you were separated from the intense kiss, both of your lips swollen from the intensity of the embrace, he was free to look up at you curiously. His hands flew to your waist, pulling you flush against him. One hand pushing up the fabric of your sleep shirt, exposing your bare top half to his hungry gaze. He was quick to reattach his lips to your skin, using the height difference from you standing between his legs to his advantage. His other hand gripping the soft plush of you ass, using his hold on you as leverage to pull you closer. His tongue lolling out of his mouth, he was quick to take a hardened bud between his lips. His tongue rolling against it, coming to a point to flick at the sensitive area before letting his teeth capture it. Pulling his head back to tug until releasing, pupils blows wide seeing the bounce of the plush flesh he was rewarded with. He was quick to give the other the same treatment. “So fucking beautiful, baby, and all fucking mine.”

You run your fingers through his hair, letting out a soft moan at the attention he was giving to your body. “Yes Shiro, I’m all yours baby.” Your voice is breathy from the pleasure you were receiving, head falling back as you relish in the feeling of his expert mouth. “Missed you so much baby.” You coo, hands coming to his shoulder to push him away a bit. He was confused for a moment, if you missed him why were you pushing him away? Before he could protest or chase your skin with his mouth, you capture his lips in a deep kiss, hand trailing down his body before finding purchase on his hardened cock through the fabric of his pants. Giving it a squeeze, Hoshina can’t help but buck his hips into your hand, his body reacting subconsciously. You pull from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips for just a moment before snapping. Looking into his hooded eyes, you let a grin slip its way onto your features.

Usually, Hoshina was always in control, working your body over and over again until the only word you could think to speak was his name. But not this time. This time you would be taking care of him. Dropping to your knees between his legs on the floor, your hands on his knees pushing his thighs apart. “let me show you just how much I missed you Shiro.” You coo, hands working dutifully on his pants, pulling his hard cock from its confines. His tip was already drooling with precum, the sight of it alone enough for your mouth to water. Ducking your head down you allow your tongue to collect his salty essence. “Fuck.” His hand flies to your hair, digits tangling in your locks. His word only fuels your actions. Steadying his cock with a hand at his base, your tongue circles his cockhead. Maintaining eye contact as you make out with his tip. “Fuck baby, please missed you too much, don’t tease.”

The plea in his voice was all it took for you to take his cock into your mouth. The groan that rumbles in his throat nearly muffles the sounds of your bobbing. Moving your head up and down on his length. Flattening your tongue on the underside of his cock, making sure to pay special attention to the vein that ran along his member. His fingers gripped the hair atop your head using it to guide your head up and down on his length, tears collecting at your lashline as the head of his cock kissed the back of your throat. “Fuck, kitten, so fucking good for me. That’s my girl taking my cock so fucking well, gonna make me cum baby, fuck.” He exclaims, throwing his head back in pleasure.

His hips bucking uncontrollably, effectively fucking your face. His hips begin to stutter, his vison going white as the coil in his stomach snaps. “Cumming, fuck kitten, fuck!” With only a few more bobs of your head, he fills your mouth with his seed, shuddering as he feels your throat contract as you swallow. His chest rises and falls as he catches his breath, coming down from his high. He spares a glance at you, seeing the way you let your tongue slide from your mouth, showing him your now empty mouth. His eyes darken, and before you could blink he swiftly grabs you, the world shifting as he swaps your positions. Your back hits the mattress, his larger form caging you in, lips capturing yours in a desperate kiss. His hips roll against your own, his cock already growing hard again. His next words are spoken between panted breaths against your lips. “That was quite the show, kitten. Now its my turn to show you just how much I missed my pretty little cunt, yeah?”

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics. Banners & writing by me. Tagging: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn.

[didhewinkback]

camaraderie

a little something old blurb for @harry-on-broadway's short n' sweet fic challenge + a request from agesssss ago (literally august 2023) The mc in something old decided to get a tattoo for Harry too..

word count: 2.5k ya girl saw the prompt and said let me do 5x that 🤦‍♀️

---

You blame the wine. 

Well, the wine combined with the way he’d been acting all dinner, searing gaze never leaving your face, his eyes drifting down to your lips when you were in the middle of telling a story. How in between courses he reached below the table, wrapping his hand around the bottom of your chair and pulling so you were side by side, his arm resting along the back of it, fingers drawing patterns on your shoulder. How somewhere between glasses two and three he leant in to whisper in your ear about how fucking good you looked, pressing a few kisses along your neck before pulling back to focus on his own plate. 

He’s always handsy but it takes on a different nature when he’s been drinking. His grip is tighter, his eyes linger for longer. He’s got to have his hands on you in some capacity, his attention never wavering from your orbit. Most social norms that he would typically follow are out the window; he won’t give anyone else an ounce of attention. Doesn’t care about being polite or upholding his usual good manners, not when his focus is on one thing and one thing only. 

You. 

So you can’t blame yourself for ruining the surprise you had been planning for weeks now, the one you took great lengths to hide, to save for the wedding day. You’re good at surprises, you know you are, you pulled off that 30th birthday surprise -  which took weeks of planning thank you very much. You’ve managed to surprise him on tour multiple times - nothing quite compares to seeing him walk into his dressing room and freezing in absolute shock when he sees you before instantly wrapping you up in his arms, holding tight while murmuring thank yous into your hair. 

So you thought you had this one in the bag. This surprise tattoo you got in the middle of the night at your hen do, all your girls taking bets on how long it would take before you revealed it to him - Jenna said you were going to show him the second you got home and you just about cut her out of the bridal party. The audacity. 

You had facetimed him that night, absolutely drunk off your arse and making him laugh so hard his eyes crinkled. You were stood outside the bar, showing off your obnoxious bridal sash while you slurred out that you just wanted to see the face you were going to love for the rest of your life. It made his face bloom into the greatest shade of pink you’ve ever seen. And even then! You said nothing. 

But how can you blame yourself now, when he guides you out of the restaurant with a hand on your lower back, the heat of it burning through your dress. When he takes your hand as you navigate your way through the busy Italian streets, bustling with activity, the excitement of early summer days in the air. He pulls you down a quieter side street, where it’s just the two of you and the cobblestones and street lamps lighting your way home. 

He pauses and turns to you, face flushed from the alcohol, his eyes grazing over your features as his lips twitch up into a soft smile, his hands coming up to cup your face, thumbs rubbing against your cheeks.

He takes a deep inhale, shaking his head almost in disbelief at the sight of you, which has you swaying on your feet more than you already are. He leans in slow, mouth inches away from yours, eyes closing as he breathes you in. 

He seems content to just stay there, mouth inches from yours, just teasing you. You can’t help but whine, impatience eating away at you. He huffs a laugh at the sound, eyes fluttering open to lock with yours before he brings your mouth to his and just kisses the hell out of you, tongue gliding into your mouth as he holds you close to him. You wind your arms around his neck, hands catching on the sweater he’s got draped across his back -  the one he swore he brought for himself but you know he only brought it just in case you got cold. 

He moves one hand down your body to wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as he slides his hand up into your hair to hold you in place while he slowly takes you apart with his lips, his tongue sliding over yours in a smooth pass, hand tightening in your hair when you softly moan. 

He pulls away slowly, if only to breathe, not letting go of you for a moment as he presses kisses along your cheek, your bodies so close together you can feel the way you’re both catching your breath. 

“Wanted to do that all night. Couldn’t believe this gorgeous girl was sat at my table,” he says, lips dragging against your skin. “All mine.”

“I am,” you gasp out and you can feel the words leave your mouth before you can stop them. “Got something to prove it.”

His hands tighten on you. “That ring, yeah?” he asks. 

And there’s your out. But for whatever reason - be it the wine, the dinner, the way his hands are holding you tight, the way his breath feels against your neck -  it just makes you want to give him everything.  You shake your head and he freezes. And then you freeze. 

Shit.

“Don’t go all shy on me now,” he mutters against your neck, pressing a kiss there before pulling his head back to look at you. His curious eyes roaming over your face, lips twitching into a smirk. 

You scrunch up your face, cringing at yourself for letting it slip so fucking close to the finish line. 

“Was trying to wait to show you until the wedding.” you say and his eyes light up, a man on a mission you already know you lost. “I blame you. If you weren’t so…”

Your hand gestures in a circle at him, not stopping at anything particular, just at his whole overall aura. His vibe. Him.

“Bloody irresistible?” he says, fully smirking now and you try your best to fight your smile, shaking your head at him. 

“That’s one word for it.” you deadpan and he honks out a laugh.

“Was working wonders on you a few moments ago.”

“Clearly.” you say and his gaze darkens, refocusing on the task at hand. 

He tightens his hold on your hips and walks you backwards until your back presses up against the terrace wall, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head to soften the blow, though he really is being gentle. You place your hands on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. It’s just the two of you tucked in a corner of the street with the glow of the nearby streetlamp casting shadows on his face, twinkling eyes never wavering from yours. 

“Can I see it now?” he asks softly, smile creeping on his face like he already knows the answer. He presses a soft kiss on your jaw, then the corner of your mouth.

“Please, baby,” he mumbles, the words barely out of his mouth before he’s pressing it to yours, kissing you slowly, thoroughly, the way he knows you like it, the way he knows makes you melt in his hands. 

He pulls back slowly, breathing out a laugh when your lips try to chase his but he keeps his distance so he can look right at you. 

“‘S it at home?” he asks, gaze darkening when you shake your head. You can see him swallow, your eyes catching on the way his throat moves as you try to slow down your racing heart, the way your heartbeat is thundering in your ears. Now or never. 

You keep your gazes locked as you bring your thumb up to your mouth, tongue darting out to lick the pad, heat flushing through you as his eyes track the movement. You lift your right hand and start rubbing at your ring finger, quickly licking at your thumb once more until you remove all the makeup covering up the tattoo. 

You can feel his eyes practically burning a hole through your hand, desperate to see what you’ve been hiding all this time. Once all the makeup is cleaned off, you look back up at him and hold out your hand. His brow is furrowed as he looks down and then he sees it. 

It’s not small, as far as finger tattoos go. A single H, in his handwriting, taking up the space between the lower half of your ring finger and your knuckle. Big enough where it’ll still be partly visible under the ring in a few weeks. Big enough that there is no doubt who it's for. Who you belong to. Who belongs to you.

You dreamt of this bit, what his face would look like when he saw it. What his reaction would be. For every day of the last month. And still you couldn’t have predicted this - the way all his breath leaves him in a rush, blinking rapidly as he grabs your hand and holds it up in the light, rocking back on his heels, practically swooning. 

“‘S that - that’s….” he cuts himself off, thumb rubbing over the tattoo. He sniffles, frozen on the spot as he stares at your hand. He takes a deep breath and looks back up at you, eyes a bit glassy, lips twitching as he tries to get ahold of himself. 

You bring your free hand up to cup his face, palm resting on the stubble, thumb dragging along his cheeks as he looks back at the tattoo. 

“Got a tattoo for me?” he croaks out, leaning into your palm. “Got inked up for me, baby?”

“I did.” you basically croak back, the look on his face making your stomach somersault. 

“Y’ said you’d never -”

“Changed my mind.” you say. “Really liked the idea of having something permanent for you on my skin.”

His grip on your hip tightens as his head falls to your collarbone, seemingly overwhelmed as he all but whimpers. His thumb hasn’t stopped slowly rubbing over the tattoo. You slide your hand up into his hair, nails scratching against his scalp and he leans up to kiss your cheek.

“Tell me about it?” he mumbles against your skin. “Please. Want the whole story.”

So you do. All the hazy details. How when you were on a pub crawl, making your way to the final destination of the evening, you passed a tattoo parlor and it felt like fate. You had known you wanted to get this done for ages, had photos on your phone of the proper lettering and size and no time seemed more appropriate than when you were out with your favorite girls in the whole world, all there to hold your hand through it.

How all you could picture when you got it done, when you were sitting through the sting of it, was the look on his face. How you’ve spent the last few weeks feeling quite stupid diligently covering it up, even over the covering and the nasty peeling which felt a bit insane. How all you’ve wanted for the last month is to tell him about it, to show him and to see this look on his face but you were waiting for the wedding day. How none of that matters now because you’ve got him looking at you the way he is and it's better than you could’ve ever dreamt. Has you feeling like you’re burning from the inside out.

“‘M glad you told me now,” he says, eyes still glimmering with emotion as he looks at you, still holding onto your hand, thumb over your finger. “Wouldn’t have been able to focus on the day. Can barely focus now.”

“You like it?”

“Like it? Are y’ joking?” he asks incredulously. “Baby, I love it. Feel like ‘m losing my mind.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, huffing a laugh. “Y’ know what mine mean to me…’s like I carry the people I love with me wherever I go. A reminder of how loved I am. ‘Nd how much I love them in return. And you doing this for me? I -”

His voice cuts out, thick with emotion as he swallows, taking a shaky breath as he blinks rapidly, holding your hand tightly in his. He huffs a shaky laugh when your thumb leans up to wipe away the errant tears that have slipped out. Shaking his head as if to clear it. Taking another deep breath before he speaks again.

“Just the thought of you… you going through the pain of this - wait, how bad did it hurt?”

“Really not that bad,” you say, softly giggling at the concern on his face. “Stung a bit but was nothing. Worth it.”

“My brave girl.” he says and you roll your eyes as he presses a kiss to the tattoo. “God this is the greatest thing ever. Can’t decide if ‘m gonna burst into tears or fuck you against this wall.”

You honk out a laugh at that. 

“Both works for me” you shrug, making him laugh just as hard.  “You've always been a great multitasker.”  

He wiggles his eyebrows at you, smiling when you laugh again. His eyes roam over your features as the laughter dies down, his expression growing more serious as he shifts his gaze from your face to your hand, thumb moving along your skin as if to prove it’s permanence and then looks back to you.

“Christ. I love you.” he says sincerely, the look in his eyes making your breath catch in your throat. “I love you so much, you know that right? Almost can’t put it into words. I just. Can’t believe y’ did this for me. My girl with my handwriting on her body. Forever.” 

“Yeah,” you say, just as sincerely. Feeling it deep in your bones. This is it. It’s him. Always has been.  “Forever.”

You see the way the word hits him, how he blinks back against the emotion as he takes a deep breath, looking back at the tattoo on your finger, lips twitching up into a disbelieving smile. 

He presses a soft kiss to it before placing your hand on his shoulder and slowly kissing his way up your arm, hands falling to your hips as you slide your hand into his hair. He moves along your shoulder, infusing his love into your skin with every press of his lips. He lingers on your neck as he presses his body right up against yours, hips pressing into yours as he sucks a mark into your skin. 

He kisses his way up to your jaw, eyes locking with yours before he pulls you impossibly closer and kisses you so deeply it makes your head spin. If there was any doubt in your mind about how he felt about you in this moment, it's answered in every press of his lips against yours, the way his tongue slides over yours, the way his hands come up to cradle your face when you sigh into his mouth, holding you so gently despite the way he’s kissing you so hard, his beard and mustache scraping against your skin but you lean into the burn. 

“Let me take y’ home and show you how much I like the tattoo, baby.” he says, panting into your ear when he pulls away. “Would show you right now but the things ‘m dreaming up -”

He cuts himself off with a groan, hands tightening on your body as he bites down on your neck. 

“Want to make y’ feel as good as this makes me feel.” he says lowly and heat flushes through you. You’d give him just about anything.

“Yeah,” you quickly agree, barely getting the word out before he’s claiming your mouth again, hands sliding all over your body, squeezing as they roam. 

“Let’s go home,” he says when he reluctantly pulls away, taking your hands and pulling you off the wall and into his arms. He wraps one arm around your waist, splaying his hand across your belly to hold you against him, low, possessive. 

And if the walk home takes twice as long because he keeps stopping to press you up against the nearby scenery, dragging his lips against your skin until you melt in his hands, so be it. 

You’re right where you want to be. In his arms. Forever. 

---

a/n: lmk what u think! the original request was for a much sexier tattoo placement and lots of smut so i hope this was still alright! just felt right for them. if i wrote the smut this would be like 6k l o l . let me know what u think! love u bye

taglist:@tobesolovelysstuff, @louyoursins, @daydreamingofmatilda, @jojo-blog53, @marzhshaim, @devilsqueen722, @just-happiness-only,@lomlhstyles, @feestyles, @spock4presidnet, @sunshinemoonsposts, @indierockgirrl, @jerseygirlinca, @kissitnhekitchen, @goldnrry,

[bratzkoo]

barely yours | mingyu (end)

Author: bratzkoo | navi Pairing: rockstar! mingyu x reader Word Count: 4.7k Genre: fluff, angst, smut-ish Rating: NC-17 Possible Warnings/ Note: Thanks for being with me all through out this fic, thank you for loving mingyu and y/n even if they're little shit sometimes. To everyone that interacted and reblogged, thank you guys so so so much, you made me very happy. Till next fic! If you're a bts army and a doctor who fan (whovian), i hope you can check out my next series it's going to be doctor who! hoseok x archaelogist! reader.

Summary: you flirt, you fuck, but when you hint that you want to be more he dismissed it as if you’re joking... and when you decide to ignore him he comes back with flowers at your doorstep.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): ​​ @ca-clover, @junniesoleilkth , @gaslysainz , @darkerrdaze , @mansaaay , @childish-fear , @lixisoul99 , @cherrylovescheol , @yuyu1024 , @tacolombe , @black-swan-blog27 , @tulipndtale , @xuimhao , @cookiearmy , @gyuguys , @brownbunnyb

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

The Parisian morning light filtered through the gauzy curtains of Y/N's hotel suite, casting a soft glow over the scattered suitcases and designer bags. Y/N stood by the window, gazing out at the city she had come to love, a city that had witnessed both her professional triumphs and, most recently, a pivotal moment in her personal life.

Her fingers absently traced the outline of the Eiffel Tower in the distance, her mind replaying the events of the past week. Fashion Week had been a whirlwind of shows, parties, and business meetings. But amidst the chaos, one moment stood out above all others – her unexpected reunion with Mingyu.

Y/N closed her eyes, allowing herself to relive that night. The shock of seeing him across the crowded room, looking devastatingly handsome in his tailored suit. The electricity that had coursed through her body when their eyes met. The way her heart had raced as he made his way towards her, that familiar crooked smile playing on his lips.

She hadn't expected the rush of emotions that came with seeing him again. Five years of carefully constructed walls had crumbled in an instant, leaving her vulnerable and exhilarated all at once. And then, one drink had led to another, conversations had flowed as easily as they had in the past, and before she knew it...

Y/N's cheeks flushed at the memory of that night. The heat of Mingyu's kisses, the tenderness in his touch, the way he had whispered her name like a prayer. It had been passionate, intense, and achingly familiar. But it had also been tinged with a newfound maturity, a depth of emotion that spoke of the years that had passed and the growth they had both undergone.

The buzz of her phone on the nightstand jolted Y/N from her reverie. Probably another message from her assistant confirming the details of her upcoming skincare line launch. Y/N sighed, torn between the excitement of her career and the bittersweet ache of leaving... of leaving Mingyu.

The past week had been like living in a dream. After that initial night, she and Mingyu had spent every possible moment together. Late-night walks along the Seine, his hand warm in hers as they strolled past the twinkling lights reflected in the water. Early morning coffees at quaint cafes, sharing croissants and stolen kisses over steaming cups of café au lait. Afternoons spent exploring the Louvre, Mingyu's childlike wonder at the art bringing a smile to her face. And evenings... evenings spent tangled in hotel sheets, rediscovering each other, talking for hours about everything and nothing.

But reality was calling. Y/N had an empire to run, a new skincare line to launch, and a life waiting for her back in Seoul. And Mingyu... Mingyu had HHT, world tours, and a career that spanned the globe. They had talked about it, of course. Long, serious conversations about their feelings, their careers, the challenges they would face. They had agreed to take things slow, to see where this rekindled connection might lead. But now, with miles about to stretch between them once again, Y/N felt a familiar fear creeping in. Would distance pull them apart, as it had before?

A knock at the door startled Y/N from her thoughts. "Mademoiselle, your car is ready," came the concierge's voice.

"Thank you," Y/N called back, her voice steadier than she felt. "I'll be down in a moment."

With one last look around the room, Y/N gathered her things. As she reached for the door handle, her eyes fell on a small bottle of perfume on the dresser – a sample of "Barely Yours." She hesitated for a moment before picking it up and tucking it into her purse. A reminder of what she was leaving behind, and perhaps, of what she hoped to return to.

The ride to Charles de Gaulle Airport was quiet, the streets of Paris still sleepy in the early morning hours. Y/N's mind wandered, replaying conversations she'd had with Mingyu over the past week.

"I've missed this," Mingyu had said one night as they sat on a bench in the Tuileries Garden, the setting sun painting the sky in hues of pink and gold. "I've missed you."

Y/N had leaned her head on his shoulder, breathing in the scent that was uniquely him. "I've missed you too," she had admitted. "More than I realized."

"What are we doing, Y/N?" Mingyu had asked, his voice soft but intense. "Is this... is this just a Paris thing? A trip down memory lane?"

She had sat up then, turning to face him. In the fading light, his eyes had been full of hope and fear, mirroring her own emotions. "I don't want it to be," she had said honestly. "But Mingyu, our lives are so different now. We're not the same people we were five years ago."

"Maybe that's a good thing," he had replied, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "We've grown, Y/N. We've achieved our dreams. Maybe now... maybe now we're finally ready for this. For us."

The memory faded as the car approached the airport. Y/N's heart felt heavy, the weight of leaving pressing down on her. They had said their goodbyes last night, both agreeing it would be easier this way. A clean break, a chance to process everything that had happened and figure out their next steps.

But as the car pulled up to the departures terminal, Y/N was struck by how wrong it felt. How could she just leave, go back to her life as if this past week hadn't changed everything?

Lost in thought, Y/N almost missed the commotion at the airport's entrance. A crowd had gathered, phones out, excited chatter filling the air. And there, in the center of it all, stood Mingyu.

Y/N's heart leapt into her throat. He wasn't supposed to be here. But there he was, looking breathtakingly handsome in a simple white t-shirt and jeans, his eyes scanning the arriving cars frantically.

As Y/N's car pulled up, Mingyu's eyes locked onto hers through the window. The look on his face – a mixture of determination, hope, and unbridled love – took her breath away.

Before the driver could fully stop, Y/N was out of the car. She vaguely registered the flashing of cameras, the surprised gasps from onlookers, but all she could focus on was Mingyu.

"What are you doing here?" she asked as she reached him, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mingyu took her hands in his, his touch sending sparks through her entire body. "I couldn't let you leave like this," he said, his voice husky with emotion. "Not again. Not without telling you how I feel."

Y/N's heart raced. "Mingyu, we talked about this. Our lives, our careers..."

But Mingyu shook his head, cutting her off. "I don't care about any of that. Y/N, these past five years without you have been... empty. I've achieved everything I thought I wanted, but none of it means anything if I can't share it with you."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as Mingyu continued, his words coming out in a rush, as if he was afraid he'd lose his nerve if he didn't say them now.

"Be with me, please Y/N," he pleaded, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "I love you. I loved you 5 years ago, I loved you 5 months ago, I loved you five minutes ago, and I'll love you every second of every day for the rest of my life. We can make this work. Whatever obstacles come our way, we'll face them together."

Y/N stood there, overwhelmed by the intensity of Mingyu's words, of her own feelings. She thought about the life she had built for herself, the success she had achieved. She was no longer the uncertain young woman she had been five years ago. She had grown, evolved into someone she was proud to be.

And it was that realization that finally allowed her to let go of her fears.

"Yes," she whispered, a smile breaking through her tears.

Mingyu blinked, as if not quite believing what he'd heard. "Yes?"

Y/N laughed, the sound full of joy and promise. "Yes, Mingyu. Yes to being with you. Yes to facing whatever comes our way together. Yes to loving you every second of every day."

With a whoop of joy, Mingyu lifted Y/N off her feet, spinning her around as onlookers cheered and cameras flashed. When he set her down, he cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away her tears.

"I love you, Y/N," he said softly. "Fully and completely."

"And I love you," Y/N replied, her heart feeling fuller than it ever had. "I'm yours, Mingyu. Fully yours."

As their lips met in a kiss that promised a lifetime of love and happiness, neither Y/N nor Mingyu paid any attention to the commotion around them. In that moment, it was just the two of them, finally where they were always meant to be – together.

The weeks that followed were a whirlwind of activity. News of their reunion spread like wildfire, dominating entertainment headlines and social media. Y/N's phone buzzed constantly with messages from friends, family, and business associates, all curious about this sudden development in her personal life.

Mingyu faced his own challenges, fielding questions from reporters and reassuring fans that his relationship wouldn't affect HHT's future. But through it all, they stood united, facing each hurdle together.

Their first major test came when Y/N had to return to Seoul for the launch of her new skincare line. The night before her flight, she and Mingyu sat on the balcony of his Paris hotel room, the city lights twinkling below them.

"I'm scared," Y/N admitted, her voice small. "What if... what if distance changes things again?"

Mingyu pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to her temple. "It won't," he said firmly. "We're different people now, Y/N. We know what we want, and we're willing to fight for it. Plus," he added with a grin, "I have about a million airline miles saved up. I plan to put them to good use."

Y/N laughed, feeling some of her anxiety melt away. "I love you," she said, marveling at how easily the words came now.

"I love you too," Mingyu replied. "Always."

The next year was a testament to their commitment. Despite busy schedules and often being in different time zones, Mingyu and Y/N made their relationship work. Video calls became a daily ritual, no matter how late or early it might be. Mingyu surprised Y/N at product launches and important meetings, while Y/N became a fixture at HHT's concerts, cheering from backstage.

Their friends and family watched with a mixture of joy and amusement as the once-tentative couple blossomed into a powerhouse of love and support. Seungcheol often joked that he felt like a proud parent watching his children grow up.

It was during one of HHT's world tour stops in New York that Mingyu decided to take the next step. He had planned everything meticulously, with the help of the other members and Y/N's assistant.

After the concert, he led a blindfolded Y/N to the top of the Empire State Building, which he had managed to reserve for just the two of them. As Y/N removed the blindfold, she gasped at the sight before her. The observation deck was covered in rose petals and candles, the New York skyline providing a breathtaking backdrop.

"Mingyu, what is all this?" she asked, her eyes wide with wonder.

Mingyu took her hands in his, his heart pounding. "Y/N," he began, his voice trembling slightly, "five years ago, I let you go because I was too afraid to admit how I felt. I've regretted that decision every day since. But now, I'm not afraid anymore. I know exactly what I want, and it's you. It's always been you."

Dropping to one knee, Mingyu pulled out a small velvet box. Inside was a stunning ring, a large diamond surrounded by smaller stones that sparkled in the candlelight.

"Hwang Y/N," Mingyu said, looking up at her with eyes full of love, "will you marry me?"

Tears streaming down her face, Y/N nodded emphatically. "Yes," she managed to choke out. "Yes, a thousand times yes!"

As Mingyu slipped the ring onto her finger and stood to kiss her, the New York night sky erupted in a spectacular fireworks display, orchestrated by the ever-romantic Seungcheol.

The news of their engagement spread quickly, sending fans and media into a frenzy. But Mingyu and Y/N were in their own bubble of happiness, already dreaming of their future together.

The months leading up to the wedding were a blur of planning, fittings, and juggling their busy careers. They decided on a spring wedding in Seoul, wanting to celebrate their love in the city where it all began.

Finally, the big day arrived. The venue, a beautiful garden on the outskirts of Seoul, was transformed into a fairytale setting. Cherry blossoms were in full bloom, their delicate petals dancing in the gentle breeze.

In a private room, Y/N stood before a full-length mirror, hardly recognizing the woman staring back at her. Her wedding gown, a custom creation that perfectly blended traditional Korean elements with modern design, made her feel like a princess. Her hair was swept up in an elegant updo, adorned with small crystal flowers that matched her earrings – a gift from Mingyu's mother.

A knock at the door preceded the entrance of her bridal party – a mix of childhood friends and industry colleagues who had become like family over the years.

"Oh, Y/N," her maid of honor gasped, tears already forming in her eyes. "You look absolutely breathtaking."

Y/N smiled, a mix of nerves and excitement fluttering in her stomach. "Thank you. I can't believe this is really happening."

As her friends fussed over last-minute details, Y/N's mind wandered to Mingyu. Was he as nervous as she was? Was he thinking of her too?

Meanwhile, in another room, Mingyu was indeed thinking of Y/N. He stood still as Seungcheol adjusted his bowtie, the other members of HHT bustling around in various states of readiness.

"You okay, man?" Seungcheol asked, noticing Mingyu's distant expression.

Mingyu nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, I'm just... I can't wait to see her, you know? To start our life together."

Seungcheol clapped him on the shoulder, his eyes suspiciously moist. "I'm so happy for you, bro. You and Y/N... you were always meant for this."

As the guests took their seats and the soft strains of music filled the air, Mingyu took his place at the altar. His heart raced as he waited, his eyes fixed on the entrance where Y/N would soon appear.

And then, there she was. As Y/N began her walk down the aisle, a collective gasp rose from the assembled guests. She was a vision in white, her face radiant with joy and love. But Mingyu saw none of it. All he could see was Y/N's eyes, locked on his, filled with a love so pure and strong it took his breath away.

As she reached him, Mingyu took her hand, squeezing it gently. "You're beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

"So are you," Y/N replied, her smile brighter than the sun.

The ceremony was a beautiful blend of traditional and modern elements, reflecting the couple's journey and their hopes for the future. As they exchanged vows and rings, there wasn't a dry eye in the house. Even the normally stoic Wonwoo was seen discretely wiping away a tear.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the officiant declared. "You may kiss the bride."

Mingyu didn't need to be told twice. He pulled Y/N close, pouring all his love and joy into a kiss that seemed to stop time itself. As they broke apart, the garden erupted in cheers and applause.

The reception that followed was a joyous celebration of love, friendship, and new beginnings. The sound of laughter and clinking glasses filled the air as guests mingled in the beautifully decorated hall. Soft fairy lights twinkled overhead, and the scent of flowers – carefully chosen to complement Y/N's signature perfume – wafted through the space.

At the head table, Mingyu couldn't take his eyes off his bride. Y/N was radiant, her eyes sparkling as she chatted with their friends and family. Every so often, she would catch him staring and give him a wink or a blown kiss, making his heart soar all over again.

The reception was in full swing, a perfect blend of elegance and fun that reflected the couple's personalities. In one corner, Mingyu's bandmates were engaged in an impromptu dance battle, much to the delight of the guests. Vernon, with his smooth moves, was giving Seungcheol a run for his money, while Wonwoo surprised everyone with a suddenly unleashed dance prowess that had been hiding behind his usually calm demeanor.

Y/N laughed as she watched them, leaning into Mingyu. "I see some things never change," she said fondly.

Mingyu grinned, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Once a group of goofballs, always a group of goofballs."

As the dance battle wound down, Vernon made his way to the newlyweds, a mischievous glint in his eye. "So, Y/N," he said, leaning on the table, "now that you're officially part of the HHT family, does this mean we get free skincare for life?"

Y/N pretended to consider this. "Hmm, I don't know. That depends. Do I get free concert tickets for life?"

"Deal!" Vernon exclaimed, holding out his hand for a high five, which Y/N gladly returned.

Wonwoo joined them, his usually stoic face softened by a warm smile. "I have to say," he said, his voice quiet but sincere, "seeing you two together like this... it just feels right. Like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place."

Mingyu reached out to squeeze Wonwoo's shoulder, touched by his friend's words. "Thanks, man. That means a lot."

As the evening progressed, it was time for the speeches. The tapping of a spoon against a glass drew everyone's attention. Seungcheol stood up, microphone in hand, his eyes already suspiciously moist.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, his voice thick with emotion, "as the best man, it's my duty to give a speech. But I have to warn you, I'm a bit of a mess already."

Laughter rippled through the crowd as Seungcheol's girlfriend, Mina, pointedly raised her phone to record the moment.

"I've known Mingyu for... well, it feels like forever," Seungcheol continued. "We've been through everything together – trainee days, debut jitters, world tours. But I've never seen him as happy as he is with Y/N."

Seungcheol turned to face the newlyweds, tears now flowing freely down his cheeks. "Y/N, you were our manager, our friend, and now you're family. Thank you for loving this big goofball and for making him smile like that."

Y/N reached out to squeeze Seungcheol's hand, her own eyes glistening with tears.

"And Mingyu," Seungcheol's voice cracked, "my brother, my bandmate, my best friend. I'm so proud of you. You fought for your love, you never gave up, and now... now you're finally fully hers, and she's fully yours."

By this point, Seungcheol was full-on sobbing, much to the amusement and endearment of the guests. Mina zoomed in on his face, barely containing her own laughter.

"To Mingyu and Y/N," Seungcheol managed to choke out, raising his glass. "May your love story continue to inspire us all. And may you always remember that you're not just 'barely' each other's – you're fully, completely, and eternally each other's."

As the guests echoed the toast, Mingyu stood up and enveloped Seungcheol in a bear hug, both men now openly weeping. Y/N joined them, wrapping her arms around both. Vernon stepped up to the microphone, his easy grin in place.

"Now, I know Seungcheol already gave the best man speech," he started, "but as Mingyu's self-proclaimed 'best friend for life,' I feel like I have some things to add."

The crowd chuckled, settling in for what promised to be an entertaining speech.

"I've known Mingyu for a long time," Vernon continued, "and I've seen him go through a lot of phases. There was the 'I'm too cool to smile' phase, the 'I'm going to dye my hair a new color every week' phase, and who could forget the 'I think I can pull off leopard print' phase?"

Laughter erupted as Mingyu buried his face in his hands, groaning good-naturedly.

"But through all of that," Vernon's voice softened, "there was one constant: the way he looked at Y/N. Even when they were just friends, even when they were apart, there was always something special there. And seeing them together now, it's like... it's like watching your favorite movie with the perfect ending."

Vernon raised his glass. "To Mingyu and Y/N. May your love story continue to be the blockbuster hit of our lives."

As the applause died down, Wonwoo stepped forward. Known for his quiet nature, many guests were curious to hear what he had to say.

"I'm not usually one for many words," Wonwoo began, his deep voice carrying across the room, "but for Mingyu and Y/N, I'll make an exception."

He turned to face the couple. "Mingyu, you've been my brother in everything but blood for years. I've seen you at your highest highs and your lowest lows. But I've never seen you as happy as you are with Y/N. And Y/N," he continued, his gaze shifting to the bride, "you've been a part of our family since the day we met you. You've supported us, guided us, and now, you've made our Mingyu complete."

Wonwoo's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Love like yours is rare. It's the kind of love that inspires songs, that gives hope to others. Cherish it, nurture it, and know that you'll always have us – your HHT family – supporting you every step of the way."

There wasn't a dry eye in the house as Wonwoo finished his speech. Mingyu stood up, pulling both Vernon and Wonwoo into a tight hug. Y/N joined them, and soon all of HHT was engaged in a group hug that spoke volumes about their bond.

The night continued with more heartfelt speeches, including one from Y/N's maid of honor that had everyone in stitches with embarrassing stories from their college days. Mingyu's parents spoke of how proud they were of their son and how happy they were to welcome Y/N into the family. Y/N's father, usually stoic in public, surprised everyone with an emotional speech about watching his little girl grow into the strong, successful woman before them.

As the formal part of the evening wound down, the dance floor became the center of attention. Mingyu and Y/N shared their first dance to a beautiful ballad written and performed by the members of HHT. As they swayed to the music, lost in each other's eyes, the love between them was palpable.

"I can't believe we're here," Y/N murmured, her head resting on Mingyu's chest. "Sometimes I feel like I'm going to wake up and realize this was all a dream."

Mingyu tightened his arms around her. "If it's a dream, I never want to wake up," he replied, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

As the night wore on, filled with dancing, laughter, and joy, Y/N and Mingyu stole a quiet moment on the balcony. The spring air was cool and fragrant with cherry blossoms. Under the starlit sky, Mingyu pulled Y/N close, humming softly in her ear.

"Is that...?" Y/N asked, recognizing the melody.

Mingyu nodded, smiling. "A new version of 'Barely Yours.' I'm thinking of calling it 'Fully Ours.'"

Y/N's heart swelled with love. "It's perfect," she whispered, leaning in for a kiss.

As they stood there, the Seoul skyline twinkling behind them and their future stretching out before them, both Mingyu and Y/N reflected on the journey that had brought them to this moment.

"You know," Mingyu said softly, "five years ago, when we decided to focus on our careers, I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought success would be enough to make me happy."

Y/N nodded, understanding completely. "I felt the same way. I threw myself into building my brand, thinking that if I could just achieve my goals, everything else would fall into place."

"But it didn't, did it?" Mingyu mused, his fingers tracing patterns on Y/N's back.

"No, it didn't," Y/N agreed. "Something was always missing. I just didn't want to admit what – or who – it was."

Mingyu chuckled softly. "We were both so stubborn. It took us five years and a chance meeting in Paris to figure out what we really needed."

"Each other," Y/N finished, smiling up at him.

"Each other," Mingyu echoed, his eyes full of love. "Y/N, I promise you, I'm never letting you go again. Whatever challenges we face, whatever obstacles come our way, we'll face them together. You're not just my wife; you're my partner, my best friend, my soulmate."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes at Mingyu's words. "And you're mine," she replied, her voice thick with emotion. "Mingyu, you make me stronger, you make me better. With you by my side, I feel like I can accomplish anything."

Their lips met in a tender kiss, sealing their promises to each other. As they broke apart, the opening chords of "Shadow" drifted out from the reception hall.

"Shall we go back in?" Mingyu asked, offering his arm to Y/N. "I believe they're playing our song."

Y/N laughed, linking her arm through his. "Let's go, husband."

As they rejoined their guests on the dance floor, moving together to the song that had once represented their separation but now symbolized their reunion, both Mingyu and Y/N felt a sense of completion they had never known before. The journey hadn't been easy, but every step, every challenge had led them here.

In the years that followed, Mingyu and Y/N's love only grew stronger. They faced the challenges of their high-profile careers together, supporting each other's dreams while nurturing their relationship. Y/N's beauty empire continued to expand, with Mingyu often lending his face (and his social media influence) to her campaigns. HHT reached new heights of global stardom, with Y/N cheering them on every step of the way.

They learned to balance their public lives with private moments, cherishing quiet evenings at home just as much as glamorous red carpet events. They traveled the world together, both for work and pleasure, creating memories in every corner of the globe.

And when, a few years later, they welcomed their first child – a beautiful baby girl with Mingyu's smile and Y/N's eyes – their happiness felt complete. As they stood over the crib, watching their daughter sleep, Mingyu wrapped his arm around Y/N's waist.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Y/N looked up at him, curious. "For what?"

"For everything," Mingyu replied, his voice full of emotion. "For loving me, for never giving up on us, for giving me this beautiful family. You've made all my dreams come true, Y/N."

Y/N leaned into him, feeling overwhelmed with love for her husband and their child. "Thank you for the same," she murmured. "I love you, Mingyu. Fully and completely."

"And I love you," Mingyu replied, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Always and forever."

As they stood there, a family united by love and strengthened by the journey that had brought them together, both Mingyu and Y/N knew that this – this moment, this life, this love – was what they had always been meant for. No longer "barely" anything, they were fully, completely, and eternally each other's.

And in that knowledge, they found their happily ever after.

[zarnzarn]

new fic, tw rescue from a kidnapping and s/a (calypso), illiad modern spy au

They find him in the place they were told they would.

The lot of them almost don't make it past the door with how all of them fight to get inside first. The woman inside screams and drops her basket of fruits as they storm into the kitchen, staring at them with wide, piteous eyes as they all point their swords at her.

"Where is he?" Eurylochus snarls, half-bear in his rage. The guilt has been ripping him apart, whatever he and Odysseus disagreed on before he disappeared into thin air all those months ago, driving him wild. Menelaus nearly flinches himself when he roars louder, "WHERE IS HE?"

"Have you people never heard of politeness?" The woman demands starchly, even though she's still pressed back against the counter. Menelaus sees her eyes flash with power as she scowls at them, and takes a deep breath, readying his sword.

If he dies fighting her- if any of them do- the rest will understand. It's only because of Odysseus that any of them were alive at all.

"We were told that the merchant Xen'ath made a sale to you, seven months ago," Diomedes cuts in, voice cold. "An illegal one, even for a protected one like you."

She snorts, jewellery tinkling. She looks kind, and for a desperate moment Menelaus hopes.

"What will you do, put me in jail?" Calypso giggles. "Besides, a sale is a sale. He's mine, fair and square, so if you all would kindly-"

A vase crashes by her head, scattering muddy water and making her scream.

Patroclus hasn't recovered much from the coma, but he's just as angry as any of them and wouldn't be talked out of not coming along, even though he has to use a cane. He doesn't know about how they all fell apart while he was under, but has informed them all quite clearly that not only does he not care, in this situation it does not matter.

Menelaus holds out a hand to signal him to back down, knowing that they are all barely holding onto their fury enough to get answers.

"Where is he?" Ajax cuts in quietly. They point their swords again.

She scans them all calculatingly, grimacing. Then recovers, tossing her hair over her shoulder proudly, hmphing at them.

"In the basement," She says casually, and Menelaus' heart drops. Horror suffuses the faces around him, with many eyes closing in pained resignation, even though they already knew the truth. Knew what kind of sale it had been.

Penelope had recovered over fifteen hundred victims in her search for her husband, and all of them had the same story.

"He tried to run last week," She sighs, putting her hands on her hips and talking with such casual disappointment that it makes his blood run cold, makes him want to throw up. "Honestly, I made sure that he had everything one could need, I don't know what on earth-"

"Shut up," Polites snaps. "Just- shut up!"

"Why, you-" Calypso growls, eyes turning pink as she calls her power, and with a roar of fury, Achilles rounds the table and attacks.

Menelaus whistles to the others and they all scatter. He comes out at the veranda, opening every door and cursing when there's nothing beyond. It's a beautiful house- idyllic and pristine and packed with luxury, and it makes Menelaus want to claw off his own skin.

"HERE!" Someone shouts inside, and Menelaus skids to a stop and changes direction. They all reach the door at the same time, and he holds back the dizzying wave of horror at the lock on the outside as they all hack at the wood like crazed people to get in.

The door crashes down and Menelaus charges down the stairs into the dark room, scrambling for his torch.

"ODYSSEUS!" He shouts, moving it around. "ODY-"

They all go dead silent.

Odysseus scrabbles back, eyes glinting and wild in the light of the torch. He's still in the same outfit they have the last sighting of him in, dirtied and torn now, but the man wearing it is completely different- hair overgrown and body rail-thin, so much so that Menelaus for a heart-stopping second doesn't recognise him.

There's a chain around his leg, connected to the floor. A collar with an owl on it, made of metal that's been welded shut straight on and rope on his wrists. A dirty cloth stuffed in his mouth.

Blood on his legs.

"Odysseus!" Polites is the first to break their standstill, a huge grin of pained relief on his face as he rushes forward. It falls as Odysseus gives a small scream of terror and tries to get away from him, making the metal dig into his already scarred ankle.

Of terror. Of terror. Ten years of knowing him, and Menelaus has never seen Odysseus afraid.

Odysseus spits out the cloth. "Please," He whispers, voice wrecked, and they all flinch. The Odysseus in Menelaus' memory shines bright and golden, charming and funny and kind and angry and humble, despite having run missions for his kingdom since he was thirteen, sharper and swifter than all of them. This is not his friend. "Please, not them, not them, don't wear their faces too, please."

And-

Menelaus comes to with his face pressed against the wall, tears streaming down his face. Sick with rage and guilt and fury and horror. The others aren't faring any better when someone snaps over the microphones for them to hurry up and he turns back around- Eurylochus is sitting on the floor with his head in his hands, two others are vomiting, Polites has disappeared and the rest are just standing there frozen, crying. Patroclus is the only one who's kept his head on enough to attempt quiet reassurance, crouched near a trembling, animal version of their best spy and talking softly to him, trying to coax him away from cutting into his own skin with the rusted metal.

He tried to run away last week, Menelaus grasps onto desperately. It means he's still in there, fighting.

He can't take his eyes off the blood. There's so much of it.

"Eurylochus!" Polites snaps as he comes back down the stairs, a blowtorch in hand. "Hold him."

Odysseus screams at their approach and Menelaus does not have the courage to keep looking, places both hands over his ears like a child, unable to bear it.

(Penelope had opened the door to the group of them; twelve men Odysseus had run with for ten years who had no idea he disappeared until someone casually mentioned that Penelope had gone rogue and was on the watchlist for having tortured and murdered Circe.

Her eyes had been frigid. "Welcome," She said, as if they were strangers and not close friends. "You're quite lucky you decided to visit, you know. I had plans of killing you lot next."

Menelaus doesn't blame her.

She'd sent them all message after message, call after call- begging, pleading, bargaining; that they all ignored out of grudges and anger, until she'd stopped asking and done it herself. None of the fights Odysseus had had with them had even been that bad- it was just, somehow, every single one of them had just been that little bit extra annoyed as to not pick up when it had been her calling; and then Xen'ath had all Penelope's calls rerouted, so she couldn't reach them anyway.

"Queen of Ithaka," He'd bowed, Helen bowing lower at his side. "... Penelope. I- We are all so incredibly sorry-"

"Save it," She'd said, holding up a hand. "Just answer me this- would you rather run a mission or guard Telemachus? And what is your price?"

That had thrown them.

"Penelope," Diomedes had stepped forward hesitantly, looking heartbroken. "We would- all of us, any of us- we would do anything to save your husband. You don't need to fucking pay us to rescue him- we are his friends. We are your friends."

"Then WHERE WERE YOU?" Penelope screams, and her mask finally cracks with it, eyes filled with tears and mouth curled in rage. "Where were any of you when he- when I-" Diomedes grabs her and pulls her into a hug and she breaks down sobbing. "Where were all of you when we needed you?"

"Penelope," Menelaus says, stepping forward to place a hand on her shoulder. Glass crunches under his feet and guilt overcomes him again- all this while he'd been living in luxury, unburdened, his sister-in-law had given up everything to run missions on her own, feeding her people and taking down enemy after enemy while living in squalor herself, in a building full of unsavory men. Tears come to his own eyes. "Please, I beg you to believe me. None of us, not a single one- we did not know. We did not know your husband never made it home, Penelope, I swear on the Styx."

"Then you should have picked up my calls," She snarls, venomous, and gathers herself back up to push Diomedes and him away. "Now. Mission or Telemachus?")

When he takes his hands off, the silence is ringingly loud, the phantom screams still stuck in his ears. Menelaus looks when Odysseus whimpers suddenly and sees his sister's husband holding him down while Polites melts the collar off, Ajax silently working on the chain around his ankle.

Achilles shouts from upstairs and Diomedes calls back, and he comes into the room with grim eyes. "How is he?"

None of them can bring themselves to reply. The collar falls off with a thud.

"Odysseus, hey, we've come to rescue you," Polites tries again, smiling at him and holding his head in his hands so they can meet his eyes. "Don't worry now, we're here."

Odysseus is still. Too still.

Diomedes steps forward, eyes hard, and carefully pulls Polites' hands away. "He'll attack you. If shapeshifting is involved-"

Silence.

"What is wrong with all of you?" Patroclus says suddenly, scowling. "Did you lose your training along with your brains when I was unconscious? Soldiers, post-rescue protocol, now."

The command shocks him back to adrenaline, and they all burst into familiar movements, collecting pictures and pulling out shock blankets. Someone grabs Odysseus as the chain unravels and holds him still while they cut him free, and another talks gently to him as they inject him with a sedative. Menelaus is just glad it isn't him, because he doesn't think that even with his hardened nerves he could bear to face the fact that- to treat Odysseus like-

He looks away as Achilles grabs the other in a fireman's carry and makes his way to the door instead, pushing the debris out of the way to let them through.

Calypso isn't going to be held back for long.

"NO!" She screeches as she bursts through a wall, three times bigger than they left her. Menelaus slashes and she cowers back, baring her teeth in fear. Her face falls as she catches sight of Achilles running out the door, and tears well up in her eyes instead. "No, please, I can't be alone again! I can't be locked in here, please, I can't be alone, send anything, anyone, please!"

"Go fuck yourself," Ajax says savagely as he swings at her, and Menelaus grabs the person closest and yells for a retreat.

The van rumbles along. The windshield wipers swing.

"How long does the sedative last?" Menelaus hears himself ask.

"Should be done by now," Polites says, voice similarly bleak, turning to Odysseus. "Ody?"

Odysseus is crouched in the far corner of the van, staring at them all with sharp, hate-filled paranoia. Menelaus swallows and slows the vehicle, the rest of them turning to look.

"You're safe," Ajax says, softer than he's ever heard from him. "We got you out, Odysseus, you're going back home."

Odysseus narrows his eyes and snarls. Menelaus braces himself for something biting and sharp about how they could have done it earlier, better, faster. Except- "I'm not falling for another illusion, Calypso. Drop the fucking act."

Menelaus hits the brakes and closes his eyes as he presses his face against the steering wheel. "It's not an illusion, Ody, we promise. We're actually here."

"You don't have your chains any more, see?" Eurylochus tries. When he turns, they're all clearly holding themselves back from rushing forward in heartbreak; Odysseus had been the touchy one amongst them, winding around them like a hyperactive snake and hanging off them and hugging them tight and offering handshakes and high-fives, no matter that they were all hardened warriors. To have him clearly ready to throw a punch if they approach hurts. "Your collar is off- why would Calypso do that?"

Odysseus' face spasms and he grabs for his neck. Feels around as if it might be a trick, expression blank.

"Athena," He says abruptly, and Menelaus is extremely confused for a second before he recalls the owl etched into the metal and catches Diomedes' eyes in sudden horrified agony. Of all the terrible-

"Athena," Odysseus breathes, bending over with eyes wide in disbelief, saying it as if he can't believe he can. Hope flares in his eyes, before crumpling at the sudden landslide of grief that follows, tears Menelaus never saw from him at the worst of the Troy mission dripping down his face. "Athena. Athena. Athena! ATHENA! ATHENA!"

His voice is agonizing to hear, crazed and desperate, and someone rushes forward with a tranquilizer, before-

A loud clap, blinding light, and Athena, the goddess herself, appears in their mission vehicle.

"What the fuck," Ajax whispers next to him, grabbing Menelaus by the arm. They're both trembling. Everyone is. "What the fuck- that's actually her."

Athena snaps her neck around to study them all with blank eyes, nodding to a terrified Diomedes, before looking down at Odysseus. Studies him.

Oh shit, Menelaus thinks, remembering the rumors of Medusa, and motions for someone to intervene as he struggles with the seatbelt.

She dissolves her spear suddenly and- holds out her arms.

"What?" Odysseus says faintly, which sums that up too.

"What?" Athena returns, sounding- defensive? Confused? "You were the one who insisted on hugs and physical touch to be added to the rescue recovery manual."

Menelaus finally makes it over the barrier to the back of the van and gets to watch everyone's brains break slightly, and for Odysseus' mouth to drop open in sheer disbelief. Menelaus still knows him enough to recognise the look of him very much wanting to say that is not something you say in a situation like this before a smile suddenly pulls at his lips. A threadbare, incredulous giggle escapes him, then rickety, mirthful laughter and Menelaus breathes a sigh of relief.

"Yeah, I did," Odysseus grins slightly, and walks closer- hugging the goddess without a lick of fear, of course he does. The gods are famous for their pride and detachment and untouchability and of course this crazy man goes and hugs the most closed-off of them like an old friend.

Although, the way they talked to each other, and the implications-

"I'm not thinking of this anymore," Ajax mutters, rubbing at his face. "Odysseus, you believe this ain't an illusion yet, my dude?"

He pulls back and stares around at them like he's seeing them for the first time. His face twitches, like he can't decide whether to smile or be devastated, and quietly says, "You're here. You all came?"

The van bursts out in noise as they all trip over their sorrowful reassurances and apologies, almost shouting. Odysseus trembles. Blood drips to the floor.

Achilles steps forward and Menelaus feels the same alarm of a disaster incoming from earlier; he and Odysseus had never quite gotten over their irritation at dragging each other into the Troy mission and argued plenty during- he'd even heard word that they'd let a target escape once because they'd got into a fistfight.

But Achilles just gives Athena a wary look and a wide berth, and then pulls Odysseus into his arms. Menelaus suddenly remembers who'd been the first to run to Achilles and hold him when he'd sunk to the floor at Patroclus' diagnosis.

"We're here," He murmurs. "We came late, but we came. You're out."

"I'm out," Odysseus repeats, letting his tense posture drop as he leans into the embrace. "I'm out."

"You are," Athena confirms clinically, then- surprise on surprises, she kneels down to pull him closer as well.

Menelaus smiles, then climbs back to the front of the vehicle, satisfying himself with the flickering relief that slowly takes over Odysseus' expression. Gives his friend the privacy he can when he starts to have the breakdown delayed seven months, turns the keys to start the engine.

It's still a long journey to get Odysseus back to Penelope, then back to the Ithaka headquarters. But they have him now, and they'll get him back.

Menelaus, and the rest of them, will have to content themselves with that. That at least, the most they can do now, is bring him home.

He taps on his earpiece, and it crackles to life. "We have him," He tells her. "We're bringing him back to you by morning. Rest, please, Penny."

She sobs over the comms and the car drives on.

[valkyyriia]

Interruptions

Words: 744 CW: Semi-Public Sex, Cunnilingus Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x Female-Bodied Reader Notes: I wrote this fic last year and posted it on Ao3 during the Hogwarts Legacy craze around when the game came out. I just never posted it here.

It's currently on Ao3 here. The work is orphaned for a few reasons I'd rather not explain in a note, but I'd be happy to answer if asked.

I know most of you follow me for otome (specifically Ikeseries) content, so I'll be forgoing my usual taglist.

You were on a desk in a classroom, legs spread wide, underwear around one of your ankles and skirt hitched up to your waist. Ominis was seated between your legs, his face between your thighs, tongue lapping at the wetness between them. One of your hands was threaded through his hair, pushing him closer to your center. 

A barely stifled cry escaped your lips as he licked a long stripe up your folds, paying extra attention to the nub at the top. You could feel a pressure rising in your abdomen with every flick of his tongue.

"Ominis," you moaned. "Fuck, love." 

Vibrations rumbled against your core as Ominis chuckled. He pulled away slightly and smirked, licking his lips. 

"You'd best watch your language, darling, if you want more where that came from." 

You whined at the loss of his touch and tried to urge him to resume, but he seemed perfectly content to wait. He was tantalizingly close to your warm heat; close enough that you could feel his soft breaths ghost over the moistened flesh. It was driving you utterly mad. 

"Tell me you'll behave, love, and I'll give you what you want." He blew a puff of air at your lower lips and the sensation made a shiver run up your spine. 

"I'll behave. I promise," you whined, aching for contact. Ominis waited one more torturous moment before burying his face against your cunt with even more fervor than before. He added his hands to the mix this time, pressing a long finger into your core.

He was eating you out like a man starved, like he hadn't eaten in a week and you were the best meal he could have ever asked for. 

You moved your free hand to your mouth, trying to hold in the obscenities that were fighting to escape your lips. It was torture. Your legs were shaking from the sheer ecstasy he was giving you. 

He added a second finger and curled them just right and you saw stars. You came with a cry, pleasure rolling down your form in waves. Ominis focused his attention on your clit, sending additional shockwaves rolling through you. 

The door opened. 

"Oh, there you guys are. Where have you -" 

Ominis froze. You looked up in shock, still riding out the end of your orgasm, eyes half lidded. 

Sebastian Sallow stood in the now open doorway, eyes wide and trained on the sight before him. He was speechless. He made eye contact with you and blushed a bright red, averting his eyes. 

Ominis, the bastard, gave one final flick against your clit, sending a shudder of overstimulation up your body, before pulling away from you entirely. 

"Did you need something, Sebastian? Or are you just going to continue to stand there and stare like a pervert?" Ominis crossed his arms and stared at the other boy. It was clearly intended to be intimidating, but it was hard to be imposing when his clothes were rumpled, hair in disarray, face shiny with your slick. The other boy got the hint, though.

"It's.. nothing that can't wait. I'll see you later. When you're both... fully dressed." He quickly ran out the door, slamming it behind him. Ominis turned back to you, running a hand through his messy blond hair. Your cheeks were crimson with mortification. 

"At least it was Sebastian," you tried to lighten the mood. "It could have been Garreth."

You reached down and pulled your panties back up, moving to get off the desk. Your legs felt like jelly and you stumbled, Ominis catching you and steadying you. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips, hands holding you upright. Your own came to rest on his chest.

"The entire school would know by breakfast if it were Garreth," Ominis muttered. "But once Sebastian gets over it, you know he's going to be relentless with his teasing." 

Ominis' hands trailed down your form, smoothing down your rumpled skirt. Your own took his tie, straightening it and laying it down flat. Your fingers ran through his hair, trying to smooth it back into place. 

"I hate that we were interrupted, though," you said as you moved to your robes on unsteady legs. "You didn't even get to have your own pleasure." 

"Don't worry about that, darling. There's plenty of time for that later," he murmured against your lips. 

You were sure to make it up to him later that night. 

Taglist: @natimiles

[closetcasefabray]

jesus saves (i spend)

i have been writing parts of an avatrice college au for two gd years now. the ideas & writing are scattered between here (one of the tags below should work), my whatsapp convos with @snowandwolves, on discord, my dinosaur laptop that crashes, & my email. it’s a fucking disaster but whatever so am i & not once in my life have i had my shit together so this is all unsurprising.

SO what i’m saying is, here’s the only part i have ‘formally’ written in fic form bc i posted that other ficlet. doing this made me almost throw my dino laptop & my phone out a window on several occasions—that’s why there isn’t more. but i just wanna share this.

more notes & rambles at the end.

//

You notice her because it's syllabus week of your freshman year, it's an 8 AM class, and you're fairly confident you're still drunk from the party you attended last night, but she raises her hand and correctly answers a question posed by your theology professor without hesitation. Your professor, Father Vincent, was likely hoping for a good guess at best, but there she is, exceeding expectations from the moment she speaks. You pickup on an accent, which you would find incredibly attractive if you weren't so thrown by her perfect and concise response, like a well-prepared speech is always readily accessible in the back of her mind—a girl with all the answers. A young woman, really. 

You, however, are not—you're just a girl. You're just a girl who shows up to her morning classes smelling like the bar or the house party from the night before, like the weed you started smoking almost immediately upon arriving to university during orientation week, like the cigarettes you smoke because it affords you a little more quiet outside and an excuse to borrow a lighter and talk to a cute boy or a pretty girl.

You're just a girl who technically died, existed in nothingness for a whole minute before being ripped back into a reality of blank ceilings and the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. You're just a girl strangers prayed for after they heard about the American child pulled from the wreckage. You're just a girl who didn't get any credit for teaching herself to stand again, to walk again—and if you’re being completely honest, you’re a girl who’s incredibly bitter that a god you never saw in that one minute got all the credit and none of the blame—for taking your mother from you, for taking years from you that had to be spent healing from god’s grace or lack thereof. 

You're just a girl who is tired of being told to look at her life as an expression of holiness, who thinks it is more so the consequence of indifferent stardust. But you still look for the beauty in that, in humanity and its flaws—these meaningless beings in a vast universe, creating and destroying their own little, myopic worlds on this spinning rock. Some will dream of poetry for their lovers, and some will dream of arsenals to level cities. You wonder how many lips were pressed together in a final kiss versus hands clasped together in prayer when fire fell from the sky in the name of God. You wonder what that says about faith.

You'd like to think if your mother could see you, she'd laugh at the irony because once you were baptized, she never took you to church. God finds a way, so you spent five miserable years in a Catholic orphanage before you were sent back to America. People said you were lucky to have two years in a foster family at your age, but it felt like living with strangers who were tasked with the minimum of keeping you alive. Then you were moved into a home for teen girls with a nun at the helm, and that’s where you actually felt fortunate for the first time in years. It was there that Mother Superion helped you with your studies and college applications. So here you are, tipping into a hangover in one of the oldest buildings on campus, learning theology from a priest.

But your mom would understand. (You don’t remember much of her, and you try not to think about that too deeply, or else you have to deal with the resulting ache that comes from reaching inside yourself for something that’s gone.) You have spliced together what you can recall into a short reel—you mom buckling into your car seat while humming a show tune, showing you how to fold a pizza slice and telling about a city famous for their pizza, and holding your hand in a museum in Spain, promising to take you to another big museum closer to home, the home you never saw again. So you promised yourself and the parts of her you carry that you’d make it here.

You would have had to pay almost full tuition if you wished to attend your reach, requiring immense debt, so you ended up at the school that offered you a ticket to the city and a hefty enough scholarship you could get through four years without requiring loans or a full-time job to afford it. (You first refused to use your mother’s death as a sob story in you application letter, but Mother Superion put her hand on yours and said, So rarely do these letters contain truth, but do not be afraid to tell yours. In telling your truth there is a sadness, yes—and I know you detest pity—but of all the things that have been taken from you, do not feel guilty for taking some of it back to live a better life.) You remember getting your acceptance letter, and looking up at the sky and flipping it off, praying whatever god hears you, No thanks to you!

But your bitterness temporarily takes a backseat in your mind as you look at your classmate, beautiful in the refracted light shining through the stained glass window, speaking so graciously of god you'd think Jesus were in the room, about to hand her his latest work. It's poetry, bordering on scripture in a new tongue, and you'd almost be a believer if it didn't sound as if she had repeated these words—practiced—enough times to believe them herself. You wonder what that says about her faith.

If the nuns at the orphanage had spoken the gospel as she does, maybe you'd be here for different reasons. You're fascinated.

Behold, you are beautiful…

//

i promise this fic gets lighter & has some silliness. so some notes/tangents:

this is 100% self-indulgence bc i heard ‘write what you know’ & ran with that shit. when i visited a friend at a state school in a college town i was so so confused bc it was just a diff campus culture entirely. then i was going to make this set in an ambiguous city, but i literally have saved places in google maps that would be great places to kiss someone sooooo you get NY avatrice.

likely setting this before instagram & smartphones bc i’m old/lazy & i can.

the title is from st. vincent who my friend introduced me to in college. “paris is burning” changed my brain chemistry & so i listened to her music on repeat for ages—“jesus saves, i spend” is on the same album.

father vincent will not be a bad man or evil professor. he will be as he was before adriel—a lost man who found himself through god & still a little broken but caring & devout.

also song of songs/song of solomon is like… the only part of the bible i fucked with in theology class so that’s the reference at the end. also another line used in another scene with JC, chanel, & ava written in v rough form. maybe will share that later.

this is meant to be a fic with a post-grad sequel as well. not much written of that but a lot of ideas everywhere.

once i figure out where i’m moving (hahahaha i’m so stressed), i’ll consider a ko-fi or something (i wish emails & names weren’t shown though). but mostly i will likely need a second job to save up for an actually good computer/macbook. once i have that i’ll be able to post on ao3.

anyway thanks for reading & being here :3

[rs-hawk]

Beauty and the Beast library smut please? 🙏

Since I'm doing a double upload today, "Day Three" will be a second part to Day Two. If you'd like me to continue this story or anything else for Beauty and the Beast week, my asks are open!

CW: obviously this fic contains smut and graphic depictions. It is intended for an 18+ audience. Slight dubcon/noncon?, breeding, knotting, cum, excessive sizes, pain, overstimulation, biting, blood, etc

It didn't take long for Beast to finish, his cum covering his hand and splattering on some of the books in front of him thanks to his hiding spot of the bookshelf. However, for poor Belle, she was just bringing herself to the edge repeatedly, but unable to push herself over. She was unable to keep up the pace she had set for herself with all of those fingers pushing into herself, as well as play with her clit, but when she stopped either, tears of frustration welled up in her eyes.

Beast continued to watch her as she moaned and cried, trying to set a more brutal pace to stretch herself on her fingers when she stopped circling and playing with her clit. She groaned in frustration and annoyance, it just wasn't as good without the additional stimulation, but she couldn't keep up both. Stuffing her fingers inside of her cunt, she whimpered, rocking her hips down on her fingers.

The scent of her arousal and desperation was so thick in the air that it was already making Beast's brain fuzzy, but when she once again cried out his name, he couldn't control himself. He made his way around the side of the bookshelf, immediately pushing her hand to the side and replacing her fingers with his tongue. She gasped, arching her back as his large tongue found its way deep inside of her sweet cunt, tasting how wet and aroused she was. Beast growled, grabbing her hips and pinning her down when she tried to move.

In seconds, Belle was cumming on his tongue. When she did, her body sagged back slightly, her hole pulsing pathetically around his tongue as if trying to milk him. Beast grinned as he pulled back, his large teeth teasing her inner thighs as he ran his tongue and teeth along the sensitive skin there. His fur was soaked with her juices, which embarrassed her, but he couldn't seem to care any less.

"You didn't have to do that," she said shyly, trying to close her legs to prevent him from seeing just how desperate she was for more.

"I wanted to," he muttered, roughly pushing her legs apart.

She began to squirm slightly in his chair. While she was attracted to him, she still had problems trusting him, and wasn't sure if she wanted him to continue touching her. When she opened her mouth to voice these thoughts, though, he took the opportunity to kiss her, shoving his tongue in her mouth. She groaned against it, tasting herself all over him. His large claws quickly shredded her clothing, leaving soft pink lines that sprung up in places where he had clawed at her clothing too hard.

With the pad of his finger, so as not to hurt her with his claws, he began to circle and play with her clit. She whimpered quietly, squirming again to get away from his touch. It was too much after such an intense orgasm. With his other hand, he yanked her back to him, pinning her down so it was easier to play with her clit. He pulled her tongue out of her mouth, letting her gasp and the sound of her whining be louder, filling the room they were in.

"Beast please," she whined, struggling against his strong grip. "I can't. It's too much."

"Isn't this what you were just begging for? For me to play with you? To use you for my own pleasure?" he growled lowly, his tongue darting out to lick one of her nipples, making her whine again. "Or do you want me to skip to the cumming inside of your pretty pink pussy?"

Belle blushed, her own words being repeated back to her making her feel embarrassed, almost ashamed. She couldn't believe how raunchy she had made herself sound. Granted, she hadn't expected Beast to hear her, but surely she had to have known that there was a chance, right?

While Belle was rethinking her actions, Beast took the way that she was still soaking wet and how her clit was reacting to him as an invitation. Lining up his huge cock with her tiny hole, he slowly began to push himself inside of her. This snapped her out of her thoughts, making her cry out. Even stretching herself with her fingers was no preparation for this. She was being stretched so so slowly, but only because he was moving inside of her slowly. One harsh snap of his hips and she would be wrecked, impaled on his giant length.

She tried moving off of him again, but he pinned her down, his claws digging into her skin. Now her movements annoyed him, making him bare his fangs at her, his tail flicking in irritation as he still made his way slowly inside of her.

"Isn't this what you wanted? To be pinned down and used by a monster?" he growled, having to be more rough with forcing himself inside of her when about half of his cock had been pushed inside of her. "You were just begging me to knot and use you. You went into my library, read my book, sat in my chair, and touched your wet little hole while crying my name, begging for my cock. What, now you don't want it?"

She couldn't respond, crying as she came around his cock again. She was already so close from how he had been teasing her clit again, that between his words and how his cock filled her completely, she couldn't help herself. She felt even more embarrassed, but the gush of it allowed Beast to finally bottom out inside of her.

He roared, biting on her shoulder. Part of him felt bad as the taste of her blood rushed into his mouth, but the way that she was hugging his cock drowned out any voice of guilt. She was pushing down on his cock, grinding against his knot. The things she was saying only came out as incoherent babbles, but clearly she was eager for more. For whatever he could give her, and he planned on just that.

Like this story? Support me on Ko-fi ☕❤️

[slippinninque]

Hi👋🏽 This is my first time ever putting in a fic request. I’m not sure if you take requests and I didn’t see anything on your blog so please feel free to ignore this. I was wondering what Fontaine would do if he saw his girl working so hard to balance school and work that she wasn’t taking care of herself like she should or not spending as much time with him?

💆🏾‍♀️Some Place Warm🫂

Fontaine x blackfemreader

Warnings: none, some cursing, mainly fluff. Mentions of feeling overworked and overwhelmed, before-work-post (may have some mistakes lol)

"It was tonight, wasn't it?"

You were standing in the middle of the living room, in the middle of wakefulness and the fugue that has been stubbornly following you for the past three weeks.

He saw you stare out into space as you tried to regain your thoughts. Fontaine froze when you turned wet eyes to him, the rest of your face fixed into flat mask.

Still wearing your hoodie and jeans, your cheek held the imprint of one of your text books. He normally would protest you bringing books to bed but with how thin you were already stretched so thin...

"I missed date night," your voice cracked and your hands came up to your face, "We would have been back by now...I...I really missed it...."

Fontaine was up brought you close and closed his eyes against the feel of your trembling. He gently pried your hands away from your face, seeing how your fingers began to curl into claws nearer your hair.

Fontaine hugged you tight, "Hey, hey, you're good."

Your wide eyes met his but Fontaine knew you were only seeing your thoughts plastered across his face. All the things that demanded your attention, the projects and papers and team meetings and recruiting.

He said nothing as he brought your head to his shoulder. Fontaine didn't want think too much about how you sagged against him. You felt, like a rag doll with weighted feet.

"It wasn't you, baby. You've had a lot on your plate, I didn't feel right waking you up." He admitted, "I thought maybe we could have date night at the crib this time. "

You made a quiet, hurt noise and nuzzled closer, "I'm so sorry..."

"Ah, ain't nothing be sorry fo'. I already ordered some grub, it's gonna be dinner in bed tonight. A'ight?"

"I'm sorry...."

Fontaine hushed you and wished he had more to say. Wish he could erase the nerves he could feel prickling along your skin. There was nothing he could say to you. Not right now, at least.

"The only thing I want you to be is getting in that tub for me." He cupped your face, "Bath is already made. Then we'll take it from there, okay?"

"No, that's too much." You tried to shake him off but Fontaine kept hold, "Date night is supposed to be special for the both of us--

Fontaine spoke over you just a bit, "Hush! You want--"

"Don't you hush me--!"

"-- You wanna to make it up to me?"

You nodded at once. Fontaine nodded back before he stepped back and took your hands in his. He took in the worried bend of your brow, the way you chewed and picked at at the healing spots on your bottom lip.

"I've been waiting on your ass to crash for 'bout two weeks now--ain't plotting on your downfall...just worried."

Fontaine's tone robbed you of your fight. You nodded and sniffled, the knot in your throat loosening. He was right. You couldn't keep going on like this, you were only going to get sloppier.

"Okay, good, c'mon and let me get my hands on you s little bit and you can curse at me later for hushing. Yeah?"

Fontaine tugged gently and you went after him feeling like the worse girlfriend in the world.

-----

When you finally felt like you could stand being in your skin. You washed yourself and did so again, mind humming on low as the water steamed and soothed you. There were mountains of bubbles and you could smell the lavender scented candle from its perch in the dreamy fog of the bathroom.

It was strange to feel so wrung out so soon. With the holiday season swiftly approaching, you were tied on both ends. Midterms papers and collaborations clashing with the growing seasonal demand at your Granny's catering business.

While you weren't charge of the magic of making the food you made sure the 'magicians' had their wands and their doves. Grocery orders, appliance repairs, and even down to scheduling for tastings and deliveries.

You made sure that all the elders had to focus on was doing what they loved and being as much of a mediator between them and youngin's of the staff as you could.

It was a good thing to see your grandmother be so invigorated by the rush but she ran a tight ship that felt more like a sardine can lately with all the passive aggressive wars that often came with family businesses.

You cut that thought off before it could take root. That would always be there. Instead you turned your thoughts on the man who still managed to surprise you.

Fontaine waited up for you when you stayed behind for next-day prep. He met you at the front door with a blunt rolled and the shower steaming. He rubbed your aching feet as you pounded out a essay analysis.

Fontaine, bless his heart, has been nothing but supportive. Also rightfully worried, of you had to be honest.

How could you have forgotten the one night in the week that mattered most? That's what sent you over the edge at the end of it all. Not the 11:59 deadlines and collapsing cake towers--the fact you forgot about your man.

As of drawn by the sound of your spiraling thoughts, Fontaine knocked a little on the door before you saw his free forms peek in.

"I got you all set if you're ready, baby." He came in a bit further as if he hadn't already seen your all, "If you're ready, that is?"

The water sloshed as you rose instead of answering. Fontaine came fully into the bathroom with a towel stretched and waiting for you.

"Bring yo' lil self here."

The towel wrapped you up and you were delighted to feel it was fresh from the dryer. Fontaine hummed knowingly and rocked you a bit before pulling back to dry you off in earnest.

It felt silly at first, you wanted to grab the towel and insist that you had it but....it felt nice to be out of control for once.

You were then led to the bedroom instead of the living room. There you found your nest ready and waiting. There was no textbooks or notebooks to be found, or pens to be stuck by. Only one of Fontaine's hoodies and your well-loved sleeping shorts.

A single touch made you gasp in delight, Fontaine must have tossed everything into the dryer while you were soaking.

Once you were dressed, Fontaine patted your bottom and peeled the covers back. You dove between the covers and was immediately enveloped by lilac and fresh-linen scent.

"Stay put for me and let me go get some shit together, 'kay?"

" 'kay..."

Fontaine smiled at the sound of your crunchy, sniffly voice, "That's it. Find us something good to watch. Imma be back ."

He saw right through you. Though you knew he would be only a few paces away, somewhere in the house, it still felt too far at the moment. His reassurance that he'd come back had you melting into the blankets.

By the time you settled on Antique's Roadshow, Fontaine returns balancing two styrofoam containers, cups, and a 2 liter of your favorite Faygo.

The logo on the bag with the condiments let you know he ordered from the Mediterranean spot you've been hankering for. This man could have very well unlocked mind reading in hopes of getting you to take care....

You made room for him to settle beside you but Fontaine slid in and was nearly behind you. Emotion locked your throat as you watched Fontaine settle in.

"Thank you, Fontaine. For all of this."

Fontaine took the remote and lowered the volume when the nice lady from Vegas whooped about a found white gold watch.

"You've had a lot on your plate. I would have seen it by now had you not told me to be ready for it. That's something we've talked about happening when you started going back to school. What we also talked about is showing up. Remember that?"

It was one evening on the back porch days ago. You were frustrated with your progress with things. Of school, of family, of life. In feeling over overwhelmed by things to do, you strangely end up feel like you aren't doing much.

Fontaine looked into your wary eyes, "We've been making it work. We make time when we can. I let you sleep in because, baby, you needed it."

"You need me too. I need you...I have to be more-more mindful. You're what really matters to me. I should do more..."

Fontaine shook his head and took your hand again, looking at where you fingers laced quickly with his before putting them both against his chest.

"What you said to me when I asked? 'Showing up is doing something. Anything you can.' That goes both ways. Understand?"

You took in the earnest look on his face and couldn't resist kissing it. You probably tasted like stale gum but Fontaine surged forward all the same.

"Mhn, nope--no..." Fontaine pulled back and narrowed an eye at you, "Behave, missy. Food first--something that ain't no damn trail mix or whatever you be snacking on..."

Before you opened your tray, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

"Can you help me do something first?"

Fontaine was reaching over to pull one of your bonnets out of the nightstand as he answered, "Of course, baby. What do you need?"

"Moral support...."

Fontaine held you as you typed out an email to your professor and your cousin.

First asking for a two-day extension to polish and submit your paper. To your cousin, you apologized but insisted you needed the rest of the week off to get some rest and refocus yourself.

Though you doubted you would take the whole week, Fontaine correct to point out that a little wiggle room couldn't hurt just in case you did need it.

While you were going to have your phone on, all that they would need to get through the week would be ready for pick up and payment.

Before your stomach could sour after you hit send, your phone vibrated where it still was in your hand.

[Girl, fuck these oldies! Get some sleep and let them learn a lesson without you for once! 💜💕💞]

Your eyes welled as the pressure in your stomach eased away. Fontaine saw the way your shoulders sagged and took the hand still holding your phone, kissing the lax knuckles.

"See? Handled that shit like a fuckin' boss." His other hand went behind your head, strong fingers massaging the base of your neck much to your pleasure.

You released an exhale as your eyes slipped close, unaware of the shadow of a smile on your face.

Fontaine shifted closer to get both hands on you, going for your temples and the knot of thoughts at the base of your skull as he murmured, "Mm. That's sexy as hell--do it again."

"Hm? What, breathe?"

Fontaine purred when you gave a more exaggerated puff of air and a laugh danced a laugh out of you. Between Fontaine's attention and the soft comforts surrounding you, it felt like you were going to be fine.

Fontaine's voice was at you ear, "That feel good? You like when I rub your big, pretty brain like this? Hm?"

Of course you did and of course he already knew. The tension in your neck was no match for the most dexterous fingers in all the Glenn.

"Hmm...dunno. I may need a few more minutes to decide for sure."

"You ain't got to tell me twice, let me get up in that kitchen..."

Luckily for you Fontaine didn't ease up at all. Careful of your dinner, he pulled until you were back to chest and set to work massaging your neck and temples.

All you could feel was his warmness, the give of your bed. All you could hear was the soft shift of styrofoam and an explanation of the popularity of faux gold in the 70's from the TV.

All you could think of, blissfully, was how much you wished you had the HP to jump 'Taine's bones...

Your stomach growled loudly and indignantly. Fontaine chuckled when you hushed it and brought his retreating hands back to you scalp.

"A little while longer and then I want to see you go through at least half that plate." Fontaine pressed a kiss to the crown of your head before popping your bonnet over your hair

"Then I'll rub you however much you'd like..."

With a little chirp of agreement, you flopped back against your man and let him do what he did best.

Take care of you.

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

💜ending notes💜: a long time coming and I'm so sorry anon, I hope you see this and know to please please please feel free to submit again! This ask saved me like no other🥹💞💜💕 thank you to those who were so kind during my burn out, slow and steady definitely wins the race lol! 🙏🏾✨💕

✨taglist✨: @megamindsecretlair @thadelightfulone @mag1calenchantr3ss @cocoeffects @wide-nose-and-wonderful @8ttached @thadelightfulone @hobiesmain @thickeeparker @longpause-awkwardsmile @ms-angiealsina @educatorsareslutstoo @mysterychick93 @sageispunk @hunnishive @notapradagurl7@mcondance @longpause-awkwardsmile@ms-angiealsina @educatorsareslutstoo @miyuhpapayuh@mogul93 @kindofaintrovert@blowmymbackout @mcondance @kindofanenigma @ellethespaceunicorn

[juliaia]

Rainy Nights in Hell's Kitchen

—————————————————————

Summary: You’ve been dating Matt for about a year—you always sleep better when you’re with him.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x gn!reader

Warnings: Swearing, nightmares, fluff, overuse of em-dashes.

A/N: This is super short and sweet, but I wanted to try writing for Matty. Totally feel free to request stuff if you enjoy, but I post fics at random whenever the urge strikes, so I’m not like an “official tumblr fanfic person” or whatever—but I sure am here!

—————————————————————

It was a dark and stormy night—and usually you wouldn’t mind that. The rain is pretty peaceful, and with the windows open you can catch the cool night air and the smell of petrichor on the breeze.

But today has been long and tiring, and lately you’ve been having really vivid, unpleasant nightmares.

You’ve kept them mostly to yourself, tying them to the general stress of day-to-day life and maybe a dash of unresolved trauma—but they’re just nightmares. They’re silly, and you are definitely not afraid to go to bed tonight in your own room in the dark, with the occasional, startling boom of loud thunder in the background.

The fact that you immediately answer a much too eager, “yes”, when Matt asks if you want to stay over at his apartment is totally unrelated.

So now, you’re sitting in the bathroom with Matt, getting ready for bed.

He looks so damn pretty in the slightly dim lighting. His face is cast in a soft glow, his bare chest is looking like a very warm, very comfortable pillow, his sweats are fitting him very nicely and making his butt look exceptionally cute—but to be fair, he always looks sinfully good. You’re pretty sure you could watch him just exist for hours on end.

You see a grin creep onto his face as he feels your eyes on him.

“You’re staring, sweetheart.” He says, pushing his hand through his hair as he turns towards you and holds out a hand. You take it, and he leans in to kiss your forehead.

“Just watching you. You’re pretty.” You say. His grin softens to something less mischievous and more fond and sweet, and he leans in again, this time planting a soft kiss on your lips.

“You’re prettier.” He murmurs—he’s got this shamelessly lovesick look on his face. You chuckle and roll your eyes.

“Says the blind man.” He gives your hand a playful squeeze.

“I can still tell you’re pretty—ready for bed?” He asks. You hesitantly nod.

“Uh, yeah, alright.” He raises an eyebrow.

“…You’re usually more enthusiastic about sleeping.” You sigh, the two of you walking over to settle into bed on top of the cool silk sheets.

“I’ve just been having weird, bad dreams.” You explain. Matt’s face goes all soft and sympathetic.

If there is one thing Matt is, it’s protective. Which is usually sweet, but occasionally overdramatic to the point of hilarity. For example—two weeks ago, you got a papercut while opening a package (one of those awful cardboard-paper-cuts), and the moment Matt heard you let out that little hiss of frustration and pain, he came rushing over to fuss over you, face painted with concern as he took your hand and frantically examined the wound. It’s especially funny considering how he insists you don’t need to worry about him when he shows up at 3 in the morning after patrol, bleeding from a stab wound in his side, or on the verge of passing out from a concussion.

So, you mention the nightmares, and Matt goes all soft, pulling you against his chest, holding you close, kissing the top of your head.

“Oh, angel, I’m sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks. You shrug.

“Eh, you’ve got other stuff on your plate—they’re just nightmares.” Matt shakes his head, nuzzling his face into your hair and inhaling deeply.

“They’re upsetting you, and ruining your sleep.” He murmurs, kissing the top of your head.

“Matty, babydoll—“ He cuts you off by pulling back and pressing his forehead against yours, his warm eyes unfocused and unseeing but somehow still so damn emotional.

“Sweetheart,” He says. “You always take care of me. Let me take care of you, please?”

Dammit—Matt and his stupid puppy dog eyes. That sweet soft sad look he gives you, the pleading, pouty face, his pretty pink lips and big dumb wet eyes. You relent, sighing in defeat, and he grins, pulling you into his arms, kissing your cheek, and dragging you to bed, laying down with you.

“I’m here, okay?” He murmurs, kissing the top of your head. You grumble, folding yourself into his arms, smushing up against his chest. He rubs your back, holding you close. “Nothing gets to ruin your sleep except for me.” He says. You snort, giving his bicep a squeeze–oh those wonderful thick arms of his.

“Dork.” He pulls you over, tucking you against his chest for a cuddle. He nuzzles his face against the top of your head.

“I’m here. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. No nightmares.” He says. You smile, hand finding his, fingers lacing through his own.

“I don’t know if you have any control over what I dream about, but I appreciate it anyway.” You say. Matt yawns softly, kissing your temple.

“I’m just gonna hold you so tight the nightmares won’t be able to get you.” He loves having you so close, loves being able to protect you and cuddle up with you to sleep. He presses his nose and mouth into the crook of your neck, letting out a happy growl. You reach back to ruffle his hair.

“Thanks, Matty.” You murmur. He nods, kissing your cheek.

Curled up in his arms, you fall asleep easier. The rain falls outside, soft pitter patters on the window panes as Matt’s steady breathing lulls you to sleep.

When you wake up at two in the morning, hands gripping the sheets, Matt wakes up with you, pulling you closer and kissing your temple, hands coming up to rub your shoulders.

“Hey angel, you’re okay. I’m here.” You push yourself further into his arms, body shaking slightly as you wrap your arms around his arm, holding it against your chest. “I’m here.” He rubs your chest, hand drawing soothing circles against you. “What can I do to help, hm?”

You just push yourself closer to him, and he settles you into his lap, shushing you gently and kissing the top of your head. He holds you tightly, hand gently rubbing over your racing heart in a gesture he hopes is grounding and comforting.

You tuck your face against his warm neck, inhaling the scent of him, pressing a soft kiss to his skin. He chuckles, hand coming to cup your cheek, his face tilting down and his nose nudging against yours. You wrap your arms around him, too tired and shaken up to be embarrassed about seeking him out for comfort. He cuddles you against him, laying back with you against his chest.

You’re quickly lulled back to sleep by the soothing sounds of his breathing and heartbeat, and after that, you sleep solidly through the night without any issues. Matt’s warm arms wrapped around you, blankets cozy and soft, the rain and thunder outside becoming gentle background noise.

In the morning, Matt wakes you up with a few soft kisses on the temple, stirring you to consciousness, drawing a little grumble from you. He chuckles, rubbing your back gently.

“Sorry sweetheart, I couldn’t resist.” He pecks you on the lips. You hide your face against his chest, trying to block out the light from the window. He kisses the top of your head, throwing his leg over your hip to pull you closer. He’s so warm, and he smells so good, and he’s cuddling you close like you’re the most precious thing in the world. “Did you sleep okay? Aside from the bad dreams?” He asks, hand resting on your back. You nuzzle your face against the crook of his arm. You did sleep okay, you felt safe and warm in his arms, held close in his arms.

“Mhm. Slept better with you.” You say. Matt grins, face flushing as he snuggles you closer, squishing you against him.

“You should stay over more often. Move in with me, so I can keep you safe from all the nightmares.” He says, fingers brushing through your hair. You smile softly.

“…Shit, are you asking me to move in with you?” You ask. Matt kisses your forehead.

“Depends…would you say yes if I was?” You chuckle.

“Yes, yes I would.” Matt smiles, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

“Then yes, yes I am asking you to move in with me.”

“And I’m saying yes.”

[rootedinrevisions]

Enough for You: Part 3

SUMMARY: After he showed up unexpectedly at your door trying to make amends, you and Tyler spend a cozy evening together, starting with making dinner in the kitchen as light banter fills the space. After a fun and easygoing meal, the two of you curl up on the couch to watch TV, enjoying each other's presence and sharing quiet moments. As the night winds down, you ask Tyler to stay the night, feeling comforted by his warmth and company. Tyler, happy to stay, holds you close as you both drift off into a peaceful sleep, deepening the bond that has grown between you.

WARNINGS: Fluff.

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

OTHER PARTS: PART 1 I PART 2

NOTE: There will be a PART 3! I have it mostly written and just need to finish editing it. Part 2 got away from me so I decided to break it up as to not have one crazy long fic.

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @callsign-diva I @starshinegrl I @willowpains I @beltzboys2015-blog I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891

Later you and Tyler had settled into the comfort of your couch as the world outside seems to fade away. The warmth of his presence next to you, the way his hand rests on your knee, and the steady rhythm of his breathing create a bubble of serenity around you. Time feels like it’s slowing down as you both get lost in the closeness and talk. The tension from the past week melts away as you slowly lean your head on his shoulder. You hadn’t planned to spend the past few hours on the couch with him, but it’s as though neither of you can bear to let go of the other.

It isn’t until the soft grumble of a stomach fills the silence that you both freeze, then exchange an amused look. 

"Was that you or me?" Tyler teases with a chuckle, his hand giving your knee a playful squeeze. 

You can’t help but laugh, realizing how long you’ve been so engrossed in each other that dinner slipped both your minds. “I guess we kind of forgot to eat,” you say, grinning up at him. 

"Guess it's time to get out of this cocoon and figure out dinner, huh?" Tyler jokes, but neither of you seem quite ready to move.

Tyler glances around your apartment and then nods toward the kitchen. “How about we cook something here? I’m no chef, but I think I can handle pasta this time.”

You raise an eyebrow, the memory of his past cooking adventures making you smirk. “Are you sure you’re up for the challenge? Last time you tried to make pasta, we almost had to call the fire department”

He laughs, shaking his head. You bite back a smile, feeling a sense of ease wash over you as you both drift toward the kitchen, the earlier tension between you replaced with a playful energy. It feels natural—like slipping back into a rhythm you didn’t realize you missed. Together, you start pulling out ingredients, ready to tackle dinner as a team, side by side.

“You’re actually going to follow the recipe this time, right?” you tease, referencing that one infamous night with the team when his attempt at cooking had been… less than successful.

He rolls his eyes dramatically but grins, a mock-serious tone in his voice. “I promise, no improvising tonight. We’re sticking to the directions like my life depends on it.”

You laugh, stepping up beside him as he starts boiling the water. Together, you work on the sauce—chopping garlic, stirring in tomatoes, and adding the perfect amount of seasoning. The kitchen fills with the rich, savory aroma, and the easy banter between you feels as natural as breathing. You catch him stealing glances at you now and then, the soft kind of looks that make your heart skip a beat.

At one point, you’re standing close, both concentrating on the sauce. Tyler hands you a spoon and nods toward the pan. “Go on, taste test. Let’s see if we nailed it.”

You take a bite, humming in approval, but before you can respond, Tyler’s gaze sharpens. His lips twitch into a grin. 

“You’ve got a little… right there,” he says, gesturing to your lower lip where some of the sauce must have landed.

Before you can wipe it away, Tyler steps closer, his eyes fixed on yours as his hand reaches up. His thumb brushes gently against your lip, lingering for just a second too long. There’s a charged silence, the air between you suddenly thick with tension.

Then, in one smooth motion, Tyler’s lips hover over yours. Instead of wiping the sauce away, he closes the distance and gently kisses it off, his lips brushing yours in a brief, heated moment. His mouth lingers for a beat, as if considering whether to deepen the kiss, but he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes.

You feel your heart race as his thumb traces a light line across your lip, and you both let out soft laughs to ease the tension, though neither of you moves far away from each other.

“Well, I’d say that’s pretty good,” Tyler says, his voice low, and the double meaning doesn’t escape you.

After a second, you step back, breaking the tension with a smile. “Let’s see if the rest of the meal lives up to that standard.”

You sit down together at your small dining table, a cozy space that feels perfect for the two of you. The pasta is simple, but delicious, and you both dig in, the conversation flowing effortlessly.

Tyler leans back, twirling his fork in the pasta. “So, be honest… was the sauce better than last time?” he asks with a grin, clearly referring to his past kitchen disasters.

You smirk and tilt your head. “It was way better. This time, I didn’t feel like I was risking my life.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “I’m never living that down, am I?”

“Nope,” you say with a grin, taking another bite. The warmth between you isn’t just from the food—it’s from the way you feel sitting across from him, sharing something simple, yet meaningful.

The conversation meanders from lighthearted memories of the team to more personal things. Tyler shares a little about his week, and you talk about yours. Every now and then, he’ll throw in a joke that makes you laugh, and each time, his smile grows wider, like your laughter is exactly what he needed to hear.

At some point, the meal slows down, and the pauses between words become longer. But the silences aren’t awkward—they’re comfortable, filled with the sound of utensils against plates and the occasional soft smile exchanged between you both.

Tyler leans back in his chair, watching you for a moment before speaking. 

“This feels good,” he says quietly, almost to himself. His eyes linger on yours, and you know he’s talking about more than just the dinner.

You nod, your heart swelling with a quiet happiness. “Yeah,” you agree softly. “It does.”

With dinner finished and the dishes stacked in the sink, the atmosphere between you and Tyler has settled into something soft and warm, like an easy current pulling you both along. The quiet hum of the street outside your apartment window is a gentle backdrop as you both make your way to the couch, the leftovers tucked away and the weight of the evening hanging in the air like a comfortable blanket.

You grab a couple of throw pillows and settle into your usual corner of the couch, feeling the softness beneath you as Tyler sits next to you, his arm casually resting along the back. His presence feels different tonight—not distant, not guarded—just close. Like the space between you both has finally disappeared, leaving only a warmth that feels entirely new but somehow familiar.

“You know,” Tyler says, leaning back, “this is probably the most relaxed I’ve felt in a while.” He tilts his head toward you, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Though that might be the carbs talking.”

You laugh, the sound light and effortless. “I guess a successful meal can do that.”

His eyes twinkle. “I told you I’d follow the recipe this time.”

There’s a pause, the kind where neither of you feels the need to fill it. The quiet hum of your living room lamp and the distant sounds of life beyond your apartment windows make the world feel small, like it's just the two of you in this cozy bubble. You pull your legs up underneath you, feeling the comfort of the moment settle in.

Tyler glances over at the TV remote sitting on the coffee table. “Movie?” he suggests, though there’s an undertone in his voice that says he’s just as content to keep talking, to keep soaking in this rare and quiet space you’ve found together.

“Yeah,” you nod, reaching for the remote. “Something light.”

As you scroll through your options, you feel Tyler shift closer to you, his knee gently brushing against yours. It’s subtle but enough to send a pleasant warmth coursing through you. You glance over and catch him looking at you, his expression soft, almost thoughtful, as though he’s savoring every second of this moment.

“You pick,” he says softly. “I’ll watch whatever you want.”

You smirk and raise an eyebrow. “Even if it’s a rom-com?”

He chuckles, leaning back. “Even if it’s a rom-com. I’m trying to earn brownie points here.”

You laugh, and before long, you settle on a movie—a lighthearted one neither of you has seen before. But as it begins to play, you find that you’re more aware of Tyler’s presence next to you than anything happening on the screen. 

His arm eventually slides down from the back of the couch, wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you gently into his side. The contact is natural, easy, like he’s done it a thousand times before. And maybe, in some alternate version of your life, he has.

For a while, neither of you speaks. You just sit there, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the glow of the TV casting soft shadows around the room. At some point, your head naturally leans into his shoulder, and his fingers trace light, absentminded circles on your arm. You feel his steady breathing, his heart beating in rhythm with yours.

Tyler’s voice breaks the quiet after a while, soft and almost hesitant. You tilt your head slightly to look up at him. “I’m really glad I came tonight.”

His words are simple, but the weight of them lingers. You feel a swell of warmth in your chest, and you nod, a smile spreading across your face.

“Me too.”

He holds your gaze for a moment longer before pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. It’s tender, full of unspoken promises that neither of you are rushing to put into words just yet.

The movie drones on in the background, but for the rest of the night, the only thing that matters is the quiet, cozy space the two of you have built together—one that feels like it’s always been waiting for this moment.

As the credits roll on the movie, the soft hum of the television is the only sound in the room. You glance over at Tyler, who’s been quiet for the last few minutes, his arm still wrapped comfortably around you. The warmth of his body feels like an anchor, keeping you grounded in this perfect, simple moment.

Tyler shifts slightly, and with a gentle touch, he reaches up and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger there for a moment longer than necessary, his eyes searching yours. “You okay?” he asks softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he’s afraid to disturb the peace you’ve found together.

You smile, a soft, genuine smile, and nod. “Yeah,” you whisper back, the word carrying more meaning than its simplicity suggests. Everything feels right in this moment—more right than anything has in a long time.

Tyler’s eyes flicker with something deeper as he leans in, brushing his lips gently against yours. The kiss is slow, tender, as if he’s savoring it, committing every second to memory. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and he asks again, quieter this time, “You sure?”

You look up into his eyes, feeling a rush of emotion well up inside you. You could pretend to be calm, but the truth is, this moment feels like a turning point, like everything you’ve been waiting for is finally within reach. “I don’t want you to leave,” you confess, your voice soft but filled with vulnerability. The words hang in the air, delicate and full of meaning.

Tyler pauses for a beat, his thumb brushing gently along your cheek. His gaze holds yours, as though he’s searching for any hint of uncertainty. “I can stay,” he says, his voice low and careful, “if you want me to.”

You feel your chest tighten at the tenderness in his words, and you nod, your heart racing. “I want you to stay,” you murmur, the vulnerability in your voice now mirrored by the warmth in his eyes. 

You smile, and without saying anything more, you take his hand, leading him down the short hallway to your bedroom. Once inside, the atmosphere shifts slightly—more intimate, more real. You reach for a pair of soft pajamas while Tyler tugs off his shirt, the sound of fabric falling to the floor barely registering as you change. When you turn around, you find him standing there, stripped down to his boxers, watching you with that same look in his eyes—like he’s seeing you for the first time.

You both climb into bed, the sheets cool and inviting. Tyler lies back, his arm automatically reaching out for you, an open invitation. Without hesitation, you curl up into his side, your head resting on his chest as his arm wraps around you, holding you close. His heartbeat is steady beneath your ear, a calming rhythm that makes you feel completely safe.

For a few moments, the two of you just lie there, the silence between you filled with the kind of comfort that doesn’t need words. But eventually, Tyler’s fingers start tracing lazy patterns on your back, and his voice breaks the quiet.

“This feels good,” he says softly, his breath warm against the top of your head.

You nod, your eyes half-closed, the weight of the day finally catching up with you. “It does,” you agree, your voice thick with sleep.

There’s a brief pause before Tyler speaks again, quieter this time. “I’ve missed you.” His fingers continue their gentle path along your back, his voice carrying the weight of everything unspoken between you.

You tilt your head slightly, just enough to look up at him. His expression is soft, and in the dim light of the room, you can see the tenderness in his eyes. “I’ve missed you too,” you admit, the words coming out in a sleepy murmur as you feel yourself beginning to drift off.

Tyler’s hand stills on your back, and you feel him press a gentle kiss to the top of your head, the warmth of his lips lingering against your skin. “Get some sleep,” he whispers, his voice barely audible now. “I’ll be right here.”

And with that, you let the last of your worries fade away. You’re safe, comfortable, wrapped up in Tyler’s arms. The world outside can wait—right now, all that matters is this moment, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath you, and the warmth of his body next to yours.

Tyler stays awake for a few minutes longer, watching as your breathing evens out and your body relaxes against his. A small smile tugs at his lips as he presses another kiss to your forehead, his heart full. “Sweet dreams, beautiful,” he whispers, though he knows you’ve already fallen asleep. He closes his eyes then, pulling you even closer as he finally allows himself to drift off too, knowing that when morning comes, you’ll still be right there, next to him.