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likeumeanit9497 · 3 months

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just like that | m.s. |

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

based on this request :))

summary: after dating for four months without having sex, y/n finally decides that she's ready to take matt for a ride

warnings: smut; established relationship; unprotected p in v; oral (fem receiving); riding; mentions of questionable consent (NOT with matt dw); dirty talk; 18+

notes: damn i completely forgot about this im so sorry:/ i've just been so busy over the past week or so it completely went under the radar. def not my best work (i wrote it all today), but i wanted to get it up because i'm going on a trip through europe for 6 (SIX???!!?!?!) weeks and will probably not be able to post much when im there. anyways i hope u all enjoy!!

p.s. working on one more fic that i would LOVE to post before i leave tomorrow, if not it might be a while before im able to write again :/ it's gonna be a good one for the matt girlies though so keep ur eyes peeled ;)

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

“Do you want anything from the kitchen baby?” Matt’s soft voice in my ear pulled me from the lull I was in, curled up beside him on the couch watching a movie. My drooping eyes fluttered open and I couldn’t help but smile once I came face-to-face with my beautiful boyfriend. The late-August sun was setting, and it shone through the living room windows in just the way that made Matt’s gorgeous blue eyes almost transparent; a harsh contrast to his dark eyelashes and tidy beard. He was looking at me with such unclouded care, the way he always did, and it never failed to make my heart flutter.

Matt and I had met on social media about six months ago, and started dating just two months after that. Our earliest conversations online had consisted of occasionally discussing our shared interest in pretty embarrassing hobbies — playing Minecraft, journaling, and watching rom-coms to name a few — but those occasional conversations evolved into staying up all night messaging each other, multiple-hour long Facetime calls, and eventually meeting at a restaurant for our first date.

Although it hadn’t been long since we started dating, Matt’s soul was one that I felt like I’ve known all my life. Never before had I felt more at home around another person than I did once I met him, and his presence in my life gave it a new level of stability that didn’t exist before. I had dated a guy in high school for almost two years, but the quality in the time spent with Matt versus him was incomparable. I was sure that Matt was the person that I was meant to be with, and everyday he did something new to prove that to be true without even trying.

Another thing that I loved so much about Matt was that, even after months of dating, he hasn’t once pushed me to have sex with him. In one of our early conversations, I had told him that my ex had always made me feel bad when I would turn down sex with him. While him and I did have sex a few times during our relationship, I had since come to terms with the fact that I really was just doing it to make him happy. Once Matt got over his immediate anger for me, he had sat me down and told me that he could wait forever, but that he won’t have sex with me unless I tell him I’m ready.

That was months ago, and still, he has kept his promise. While we have done plenty of other things in bed, he has always made it a point to stop everything before it gets to the point of sex. At first, I felt riddled with guilt because I felt like I should want to have sex with my boyfriend —especially one so kindhearted as Matt — but over time that guilt has fizzled out from Matt’s reassuring words and actions. He never ever put me in situations that he knew had the potential to make me uncomfortable, and wouldn’t allow me to feel bad about it either.

Lately, though, I had been feeling slightly different. While before, I would squirm at the thought of anything more happening once Matt’s hand would slip out of my panties, now I feel a slight tightening in my stomach at the idea of more. And before, I would feel a certain level of nervousness as I felt the weight of his member in my hand, where now there is a flutter in my core at the thought of that same part of him filling me up.

Never before in my life had I felt any of these feelings, and I didn’t quite know what to do with them. I was afraid of the abundance of dirty thoughts that flooded my own head constantly, and I realized that I was ready for more, but only with Matt. I had been contemplating on telling him this for the past week, but as I watched him walk back over to me on the couch in nothing but baggy grey sweats — the black ink of his tattoos hypnotizing me — my body reacted in such a way that let me know that tonight was the night.

“Here, I know you didn’t say you wanted anything but I grabbed you a water anyways. I haven’t seen you drink any yet today and you-” I cut Matt’s rambling off by climbing on top of his lap as soon as he was back on the couch; wrapping my arms around his neck and planting a deep kiss to his pink lips. He responded with a soft hum against my lips before wrapping his own arms around the small of my back. I opened my mouth slightly before pressing it against his again and moving them in a slow but passionate rhythm. Matt quickly followed suit, slipping his tongue through my parted lips before using it to explore my mouth. I fluttered my eyes open for a brief moment and caught a glimpse of Matt’s most beautiful features up close — lidded eyes, flushed cheeks, straight eyebrows — and released a satisfied sigh against his mouth.

I ran my hands through his soft brown hair, tugging slightly at the ends and eliciting a soft gasp from him as I felt my body flood with arousal. His hands travelled up and down my back, his firm yet somehow delicate touch a comfort that eased my nerves. From my place on his lap, I could feel a growing hardness against my ass. This wasn’t uncommon, obviously, but in the past I usually pretended to ignore it pressing against me. This time however, I rolled my hips up and down, feeling it slide against my aching core. “Baby.” Matt’s voice was barely above a whisper against my lips, but the combination of shock and arousal was still evident in its tone as he grabbed firmly onto my forearms to hold me still.

I detached my mouth from his while still keeping our faces just centimetres apart. His breath was rapid, but so was mine as we stayed like that for a moment; wild eyed and equally uncertain. Finally, I repeated my action by grinding my hips against his clothed shaft; this time watching as his eyes rolled back slightly in pleasure. “Y/n, what are you doing?” He mumbled, clearly wavering between making sure I was okay and wanting desperately for more. I continued grinding my hips against him, my mouth dropping open as I felt his shaft reach my nerves. “I want you Matt.” I whispered, and I watched as his eyes widened in shock; pupils dilated. “What do you mean?” He asked hesitantly, brushing his knuckles softly against my arms.

“I mean, I’m ready. Ready to have sex again.” I blurted out, feeling my face immediately flush in equal parts nervousness and arousal as I waited for him to respond. His face was unreadable as he clearly tried to gauge whether or not I was serious. That was confirmed once he finally spoke. “A-are you sure? I don’t want you to think just because I’m hard we have to do anything, baby.” I felt his dick twitch in between my legs as he spoke, and it shot electricity down my spine. “I know Matt, but I really am sure.” I responded, running my hands up and down his bare chest and leaving a trail of goosebumps in my path.

He continued to stare at me, his eyes travelling wildly across my face; clearly still in a state of uncertainty. I, on the other hand, was growing more and more frustrated by the moment as the heat continued to grow between my legs. “Give me your hand.” I stated, and he obliged; placing his much larger hand in my own. I guided his hand down to the waistband of my sweatpants, inside of the material, and finally slid it against my dripping wet core. Intaking a sharp breath from the contact, I watched his face as it immediately darkened once he felt my arousal coat his fingertips.

“See? I told you I’m ready,” I leaned forward slightly, bringing my lips to his exposed collarbone and kissing it wetly. “So please Matt, can you fuck me?” The room stayed silent for a beat, the only sounds being our ragged breathing, and I felt fear begin to trickle down my spine; worried that Matt might reject me. Just as I was about to retract everything I had just said, Matt’s hand snaked to the back of my head, guiding it up from his chest before crashing his lips onto mine.

I deepened the kiss immediately, feeling a mutual level of desperation like a surge of electricity between our lips that had never been there before. Matt’s hands began traveling all across my writhing body — taking his time on the curves of my ass — before planting firmly on my hips where he helped them grind against his rock hard member. Breathy, almost silent moans fell from both of our lips as our bodies slid against each other, and the deep-rooted sensation was taunting.

Matt’s hands slithered from my hips up to the bottom of my t-shirt, where he toyed with the material for a moment before detaching his lips from mine. “Can I take this off?” He asked, glazed eyes staring longingly into my own. I nodded, and without a moment’s hesitation my vision was blocked for a brief second by Matt peeling the fabric over my head and tossing it to the side. Once my vision returned, my view was of Matt’s hungry eyes glued to my bare chest.

Matt had seen my tits countless times before throughout our relationship, but at this moment it was like he was seeing them for the very first time. Mouth slightly parted, his breathing was ragged as he brought both hands to my chest and cupped my tits delicately between them; pushing them together slightly and brushing a thumb along each nipple. I hissed at the feeling, and that seemed to pull him from his trance, as his eyes immediately shot up to mine. “This okay baby?” He asked, and I nodded my head wildly.

A smirk toyed at the corners of his mouth before he attached it to my left nipple. I released short moans as he sucked and nibbled it gently, still pressing my core against his throbbing shaft. I felt myself falling deeper and deeper into a trance that I had never experienced before, and it was like my body and mind had completely separated as I mindlessly tugged desperately at the waistband of his sweats. Catching on to my gesture, Matt shifted slightly below me before using one of his hands to haphazardly pull his sweats down slightly; allowing his cock to spring up in between my legs.

I gasped at the sight before me, only now realizing its true size with it between my legs and feeling just a tinge of excited fear trying to figure out just how it was going to fit inside of me. Shaking the thought from my mind, I collected a pool of saliva in my mouth before spitting it in my hand and bringing it down to his shaft.

Running my thumb along his slit, I felt his whole body shudder below me from the contact. I began pumping my hand up and down his length; spending extra time twisting my wrist around his sensitive tip, and watched as his mouth went slack on my tits. “Mmm, keep doing it just like that baby.” He muttered against my plump skin, and I continued to work his cock in my hand while simultaneously grinding my core against its base. Just knowing that I was making him feel good was making me feel good, and my eyes rolled to the back of my head in pleasure.

After a few short moments, I felt Matt’s hands snake to the waist band of my own sweats. My eyes found his again, and I watched as they searched my face. “You’re sure you want this, Y/n?” He asked, his voice gentle but laced with a huskiness that could only be explained as pure desire. I nodded desperately once again, feeling so pathetic but not capable of giving a shit. “I’m sure baby, please.” My voice had a slight whine to it, making my frantic need even more evident.

Planting a soft kiss to my lips, he grabbed firmly onto my sweats and began peeling them off of my body. I lifted my hips up slightly to assist him in this, and once I dropped them back down, I hissed from the feeling of my bare core against his cock. “Matty, I need you right now.” I practically cried out, leaning my body forward and planting nibbles and kisses along his exposed neck. The suspense was torturous, my body only just now recognizing how badly it was craving his.

His hands cupped my ass, and he used his grip to lift me just a couple inches off of him. I felt him spread me open slightly before dragging a finger once again against my aching folds. “Mmm, so wet for me baby.” I released a breathy moan at the combination of his touch and words, and squirmed in his grasp. “I’ll help you get it in, but I want you on top. That way you can take it as slow as you need to, okay?” His voice softened as he spoke, and his hands massaged me gently causing me to physically relax. “O-okay.” I muttered, so turned on that I was willing to do just about anything he wanted me to.

Just then, he placed a soft kiss to my lips before I felt the very tip of his cock brush against my opening; causing me to gasp. “Shh, it’s okay baby. I’ll go slow.” He whispered in my ear, and I pressed my forehead into the crook of his neck in anticipation. Finally, I felt my walls begin to expand as he pressed the first few inches into me. Moaning at the sensation, I felt my whole body flush in immediate lust. As if they had a mind of their own, my hips subconsciously began lowering onto his shaft; taking more and more of him as I sunk down.

A moan fell from his lips as my walls enveloped him inch by inch, and I slowly lifted my head from his neck and straightened my body up to allow more of him to fill me up. Even though he was big and I hadn’t had a dick in me in a long time, my slick arousal allowed him to bottom out without causing me to feel any pain; only indescribable pleasure. Once every inch of him was in me, I stayed still for a moment looking down at him. His desire was plastered across every inch of his face, and it made him look impossibly beautiful. There was no fear in me in that moment, only want, and so I began riding him.

As soon as I propelled my body up and down his shaft just once, I felt a pit of arousal begin to grow in my stomach. Groaning in pleasure, I continued with my moments; holding onto his shoulders to keep my trembling body stable. “Mmm you feel so good baby.” Matt moaned out, his eyes never leaving my pinched face. After a while, my body adjusted completely to his size and I was able to increase my speed. As I slid my walls up and down his shaft, Matt gripped onto my ass with all his might, using his hands to help me maintain my speed.

Moans fell from my lips as his cock ruthlessly hit my g-spot, and I felt my lower stomach build in pressure. “Fuck.” I muttered under my breath, feeling my skin go flush from the heat of the moment. The room filled with the echo of our wet skin slapping against each other, adding to the erotic air around us. Prolonged strings of moans fell aimlessly from my lips, and as I came closer and closer to my impending climax I began struggling to maintain my movements.

Matt seemed to pick up on this, as he adjusted his hips and began pounding into me from below; his hands holding me in place where I just clung onto him for dear life. “F-fuck Matty, like that. S-so good.” I cried out, my voice choppy from his rapid movements. My brain melted into a pool of liquid as all I could think about was reaching my high that was just out of reach. “You’re taking me so good baby.” Matt groaned out as he continued driving his length into me, staring deeply into my eyes with a fogged over expression.

“I-I think I’m gonna — oh god, think I’m g-gonna cum Matt.” My eyes rolled to the back of my head and I dug my nails into his shoulder blades, struggling to give into this new overwhelming sensation bubbling up inside of me. At this, a guttural moan fell from his lips and he somehow increased the speed of his thrusts even more. “Want you to cum around me baby, please.” There was a desperate whine to his voice as he spoke through his shortness of breath, and it was enough for me to reach my climax. Legs shaking, I released a plethora of moans and curses as my body was hit with multiple waves of indescribable pleasure. “Good girl, feels so good honey.” Matt’s voice was soft in my ear, and it helped to bring me back to earth as my hurricane of an orgasm left my body in shambles.

I continued to bounce on Matt’s dick slowly as I attempted to regain what little composure I had before my orgasm stole it from me, but I quickly learned that all of my energy had been stripped away. My body was trembling uncontrollably, and my head was filled with a fog that made it difficult for me to stay upright. Matt caught on to this, as he planted his hands firmly on my hips, keeping me still, before reaching forward and kissing me deeply. “You tired, baby?” He asked gently, rubbing circles on my sensitive skin. Sheepishly, I nodded, and Matt didn’t hesitate before guiding me off of his lap and helping me lay down on the couch.

As soon as my head hit the soft material, I felt my body immediately begin to relax again. I watched from my place on the couch as Matt began to slowly crawl over to me, before leaning above me. “You did so good baby,” He brought his lips to my chest and began dropping soft kisses against my skin, “Now,” His mouth travelled from my chest down to my stomach, “I want you to just lay here and relax,” He continued to move his lips down my stomach to my hips, “Let me make you feel good, okay?” His face was now hovering above my swollen heat, and I couldn’t help but nod frantically, feeling a sudden need to have his mouth on me.

Matt situated his body so that he could lay down with his face still just above my core. He brought both of his hands to my folds and I flinched as he used his thumbs to spread them apart slightly; exposing my bundle of nerves to the air. My vision partially skewed by his hair flopping in front of his eyes, I watched in awe as he brought his mouth closer and closer to where I needed it the most; before immediately gasping in pleasure once I felt his warm tongue make contact with my clit.

Immediately, Matt got to work in swirling his tongue in expert circles on my overstimulated nerves. This sensation in combination with his rough beard against my inner thighs was so intense it was almost painful in the best way possible, and I was incapable of controlling the throaty moans that fell from my lips as I watched him devour me entirely. Matt then used his mouth to suck on my nerves, bringing forward yet another new sensation that drove me crazy. It felt so unbelievably good, my hands flew to his hair where I held firmly; doing everything in my power to keep him in place. “Oh yeah baby, please, just like that.” I struggled to get the words out through my constant gasps of pleasure, but it was clear that they didn’t fall on deaf ears as Matt moaned in pleasured acknowledgement against my heat and kept his rhythm and pressure the exact same.

Feeling another orgasm begin to bear its teeth in my stomach, it was like my hips grew a mind of their own because as soon as Matt brought his hands under my ass to lift me slightly up on the couch; I began grinding my heat against his eager mouth. “Fuck.” He moaned against my clit as he continued to greedily suck and lick my nerves. I squeezed my eyes shut as a whine escaped my lips from an approaching orgasm, the pleasure that his mouth was giving me was too much. “S-stop baby.” I said suddenly, to which he immediately detached his mouth from me and I watched as his eyes scanned my fucked out face. “What’s wrong? You want to stop?” He seemed so concerned, clearly worried that he had somehow crossed a boundary, and it caused my chest to flutter. “N-no. It’s just, I was gonna cum again.” He raised a quizzical eyebrow, clearly confused by how that might be a problem. “I…I want to cum with you.” I finally said, and watched as his facial expression changed from one of concern back to one filled with lust.

He smiled quickly before dragging his body up my own, planting occasional kisses along my body on his way. Once he reached my head, he immediately began kissing me passionately, slipping his tongue through my parted lips and allowing me to taste myself on his mouth. Pulling away, I noticed my arousal laced throughout his beard, and that along with his pink swollen lips fresh off of my heat was enough to make my head spin. Just then, I felt him line his shaft up with my entrance, and immediately gasped out when he slid it in completely. Before moving at all, Matt took a moment to gaze down at my destroyed face before grabbing my legs and wrapping them around his waist. He then leaned forward and propped himself on his forearms on either side of my head; slipping a hand through my hair and grabbing onto it gently.

After noticing my body relax, he finally began thrusting into me. Starting off slow and deep, he gradually increased his speed until he was pounding his inches deep into me at a rapid pace. Already being close to cumming, I struggled to get a grip on my thoughts as the pleasure of the moment pulled me deeper and deeper into a world of euphoria. “You’re so tight sweetheart.” He muttered through his grunts, and I felt my eyes roll to the back of my head at his words. “F-feels so good Matty.” I managed to reply, tightening my legs around his waist as I tried everything I could to hold off my orgasm.

Matt’s hand snaked through my hair before he grabbed onto my cheek, brushing it gently with his thumb as he stared at me with a gaze so intense that it was almost intimidating. “I-I’m close Y/n.” He nearly whispered, and I felt his pace begin to slow slightly as he began to be overtaken by his own orgasm. My eyebrows knitted together as I felt my walls began to break. “M-me too.” I replied, wrapping my hands tightly around his biceps to keep me grounded. “Ah fuck, I’m cumming baby.” His erotic words were followed by a string of animalistic grunts as he drove his cock in and out of me — slow but hard — and it was like my body was waiting to hear those words as my second orgasm immediately ran through me like a freight train.

My breathy moans harmonized with his deep ones, and I felt my walls contract around his shaft; milking his dick as it painted them white. My legs were wrapped so tightly around his waist, he was barely able to move them as we both rode the waves of our intense pleasure. As my orgasm continued to tear through me, my back arched off of the couch and my body trembled. From above me, Matt watched me writhe in bliss as his movements completely stopped. As I finally began coming down from my high, I felt his hand brush through my hair affectionately, and watched as his face turned up in a smile before he placed a deep kiss to my lips.

He gently pulled his cock out of me, causing me to wince from the raw pain, before laying beside me on the couch and pulling me into him. Face to face, we stared lovingly at each other for a moment; my mind still spinning from how good he had made me feel, and in that moment I was worried that my heart might explode. His blissed expression told me that he was feeling the same, and his hand delicately rubbing the small of my back confirmed it. “Are you okay?” He finally asked, minor concern visible on his beautiful face. “I’m more than okay.” I answered honestly with a chuckle, causing him to laugh in relief as well. “I think I actually love sex.” I continued, causing him to really laugh this time before planting a kiss on my sweat-beaded forehead. “Well I think I actually love you.”

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #the sturniolos #the sturniolo triplets

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ghoststyles · 9 months

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You Should Probably Leave

This one shot is inspired by You Should Probably Leave by Chris Stapleton! Hope you enjoy.

3.4K. Smut. Fingering, oral sex, vaginal sex, degradation, the works. hehehe.

The feeling of the pair of lips gently ghosting down your collar bone sends you back in time. A simpler time. Two college students madly in love, unsure where their lives would take them.

You smile gently, drinking in the scene around you; a warm fire lit, a nearly empty bottle of red wine, and a pair of strong hands dancing around your post-baby curves. Throwing your head back, you gasp when he nips and sucks at the soft part of your neck. Pawing at his lap, his hard prick creates a noticeable tent in his pants.

You had a long day. The baby is teething, your nipples are dry and cracked, and you haven’t had an adult conversation in what feels like weeks. It’s been Miss Rachel and Cocomelon until your ears bleed. You’re not sure if it was the wine, but it’s like you’ve been brought back to life. It helps that your husband, an esteemed surgeon, is on his 3rd 24-hour call shift in a two-week span, giving you plenty of time to occupy yourself.

It started off innocent, your friendship with Harry. Your heart stopped when you realized who moved into the house across the street just 6 months ago. The other moms fawned over the new single bachelor in the neighborhood, not realizing it was Harry. Your Harry. Your college boyfriend who you thought you’d run off into the sunset with and travel the world.

In an effort to establish that you’re a married woman, you brought a fresh plate of cookies to his door, your husband in tow. Harry’s slightly perplexed and shocked look on his face when he opened the front door that day was quickly wiped away when your husband introduced yourselves to him.

It wasn’t until a few days later when you got Harry alone. Would he act like he has no idea who you are? Or would it be like a single day hasn’t passed since you left him at your college graduation, not knowing about the ring in his pocket as your parents and grandparents celebrated around you?

You were going on different paths in life, after all. Harry was a risk taker; you, on the other hand, are someone who craves routine and discipline. That’s what you repeat to yourself, trying to convince your brain that he’s not the love of your life. Even 6 years later.

You approach Harry as he is getting his mail one day. Looking around, making sure the nosy moms weren’t around, or your husband isn’t miraculously home from work.

“Hi, Sunny,” Harry says, swallowing thickly.

His words send a punch to your gut. The nickname he called you for over 4 years hits the same, even after all this time. Your husband’s terms of endearment don’t hold a candle to this.

Hesitantly, you cross the street, your arms crossing over your chest to try and slow your beating heart.

“Hi, neighbor. How’d that happen?”

“Are you the only one allowed to come back and live in their college town?”

Ice cold. You weren’t prepared for that kind of response.

“Not at all. Just unexpected, I guess.”

“I think it’s my turn to do something unexpected.”

You nod, pursing your lips in anxiety. You turn to go back in your house, feeling defeated.

“I don’t have social media. I didn’t know you lived here,” he replies gruffly. “If you want to come over for coffee tomorrow morning, you can. I work from home.”

“Okay,” you reply softly, unsure if this is a real invite. Scurrying into the house, you wipe away a small tear that formed in the corner of your eye. Fucking postpartum emotions.

Your racing thoughts are brought to an end when Harry snakes his hand over your stomach. He moans at the excess skin and fat, knowing you brought a life into this world. Weekly coffee dates between neighbors turned into wine nights when the baby goes down. All unbeknownst to your husband and neighbors.

He finally slides his hands in your panties, gently swirling your clit, sending your head back on his shoulder. The stress melts off your body when he inserts his middle finger.

“Mhm, squeeze me, Sunny. Take what you need,” Harry pants in your ear quietly. The baby monitor rests on the side table next to you.

High-pitched whines escape your mouth as he massages your g-spot gently. The angle isn’t allowing him to speed up his thrusts. You come, loudly, a few minutes later as Harry sponges more kisses on your neck and temple.

Shifting to your knees, you simultaneously pull his pants down, his boxers following suit. His prick bobs up, smacking him in the stomach. You nearly keel over, excited to have your mouth on him, as if you haven’t been doing this several nights a week when your husband is at work.

The ruddy tip is dribbling pre come, the perfect lubricant. Since he knows you’re dirty, you spit on him anyway. Harry lets out a mixture of a sigh and whine, desperate to feel your warm mouth on him. You take the plunge, trying to shove as much of him down as you can. It’s hard, but you manage to slightly swipe your nose on the hair at his base.

He’s a man now. He was back then, too. But he’s a man now. The slight belly; a contrast from his rock hard abs in college. And his face is aged, but in a good way. His stamina remains unchanged. A few more sucks and pumps of his dick and balls sends him spiraling. Ropes of his come hit the back of your throat. You absolutely keen as he grunts and thrusts one last time.

With a pop, you slide your mouth off, looking at him with hazy eyes. You roll to the side, laying your chin on his meaty thigh, just above his tiger tattoo.

Harry sighs, knowing what comes next.

I know it ain’t all that late but you should probably leave. And I recognize the look in your eyes, yeah, you should probably leave.

You cover up your bare chest with your sweater, pulling your discarded sleep shorts back on.

“He’ll be home soon, and I want to feed the baby one more time before bed. I hope you understand.”

Harry nods, his face unwilling to let on how much your words hurt. He stands, pulling up his pants and boxers, slipping his sweatshirt overhead.

Harry understood the first time. And the second. And even the third. But, here you both are, months later, entertaining this completely heinous affair. But, he just can’t fucking let you go.

‘Cause I know you, and you know me. And we both know where this is gonna lead

You excused the lingering; the extra kisses. You’ve even let Harry stay in your bed until the minute your husband pulled into the driveway. It’s gone on too long, and you need to set boundaries. But you can’t fucking let him go.

You want me to say that I want you to stay, so you should probably leave

You know it’s wrong. You’re not naive. It’s not even about hurting your husband. The unmitigated amount of guilt that comes from leading Harry on is more than enough to send you straight to hell.

It was dumb luck, Harry moving in across the street. He had to hear about your new life through mutual college friends for years as hestruggled in relationship after relationship. You went off and married a future doctor. A sure thing. At graduation, Harry scored a job in tech. Sure, the field was new at the time, but it wasn’t like he was taking a major risk. You got cold feet and fled.

Harry leans down to place one more chaste kiss on your lips before he wordlessly slips out the door toward his own house. You stare out the window after him until a shrill cry rings over the baby monitor, catapulting you into your reality.

And it’s hard to resist, just one kiss, then you should probably leave

When Harry knocks on your door around 11PM just two nights after the last encounter with an overnight bag in hand, you’re not sure what to say. The baby went down easier tonight, allowing you to feel more relaxed.

“I talked to him yesterday at the gym. He said he’d be on call at the hospital until tomorrow morning.”

You nod, confirming what he’s saying. Your husband kissed you goodbye after a failed attempt at intimacy this morning. You made up some excuse of feeling off, so he jerked himself in the shower while you laid in fetal position, the guilt eating you alive.

Harry storms past you, immediately heading to your bedroom. The bedroom you share with your husband. The bedroom just down the hall from your sleeping baby. You sigh, closing the front door gently.

Harry places his bag on the chair in the corner, taking note of the clothing strewn around the room. He’d hate to leave behind an article of his clothing that would expose their secret. Harry pulls his shirt off by the collar, baring his chest to you.

It never fails to smack the wind out of you. His toned, tattooed abdomen is illuminated by the lamp in the corner. You place your palms on his pecs, leaning in for a hungry kiss. You can tell he doesn’t want to talk tonight.

“Strip,” He demands in between kisses.

You meet his gaze, giving your best puppy dog eyes. He doesn’t buy it. You peel off your sleep shirt and shorts, leaving yourself in a pair of white panties.

“Face down, ass up, Sunny.”

A shrill whine escapes your frowning mouth. You put up little protest and situate yourself on the bed. It’s tantalizing, the hold he has on you. The history. The lore. The taboo nature of your relationship. If that’s what you can call it.

You crawl onto the bed, ignoring the framed photo from your wedding day on the bedside table. Harry stands at the foot of the bed, admiring your plump ass, a small wet patch forming in the gusset of the panties.

Harry lightly palms your ass as you jam your head further into the comforter. He squeezes and pulls at the skin, debating where to start. He starts by rubbing his middle and ring fingers over the wet patch.

Increasing the pressure, he leans over you, his lips tickling the shell of your ear, “I’m gonna eat you out, fuck you, fill you up, and we’re gonna keep these panties on. A little treat for when your husband comes home.”

Fuck.

“Harry, fuck,” you stutter.

He’s now face to face with your backside. You feel one lewd, long, lick up your folds - through your underwear. It’s so, so good. In between licks, you hear him speak again.

“You know what I can’t figure out?” He asks, almost laughing to himself.

You dare not to respond, instead focus on his assault to your pussy. His grip on your thighs is that of the jaws of life, destined to leave marks.

“I’ve been fucking tearing this pussy up for,” he trails off. “Months, now? And your dumb fuck husband still has no idea? Not a clue about our history? How you were mine first? Does he even pay a crumb of attention to you?”

You cry out after a big swipe, the tickling feeling of the damp fabric on your pussy lips driving you wild. You’re holding back big, fat crocodile tears. You’re in this situation because you want to have your cake and eat it, too.

“Tell me, Sunny. Does he fuck you with the lights off? Or a quickie in the shower? If he’s the love of your life, then why do you have to get attention from me? Hm?”

Fisting the comforter, the tears are now falling rapidly. You choke out a sob and clench your pussy around nothing.

Again, you don’t answer his questions. Instead, he picks up the pace of his licks, focusing directly on your clit. He knows the left side is more sensitive than the right, so his tongue stays swirling in that direction.

You come, quickly and loudly, smacking your hand against the bed. Harry chuckles to himself bitterly. Your head is still spinning, but you feel Harry peel back the gusset of the panties and slide the tip of his cock through the folds.

He still has his pants on, but the buttons are popped open and his cock is sticking out over the band of his underwear. The edge of the lacy fabric touching the sensitive head makes him grunt out a moan.

“Always so fucking needy. You need me, don’t you, Sunny? Tell me,” he mocks.

“I need you, Harry,” you whimper, your body ready to collapse to the bed.

“Mm-mm. Tell me who you need right now, Sunny.”

“You, Daddy. I need you,” your wobbly lip makes you sound pathetic.

He plunges in at your words, both of you gasping at the same time. You’re made for one another; You’re the lock and he’s the key. Even on the best nights with your husband, he gives you a mediocre performance at best. Your thrusts are never timed, and he refuses to talk dirty in your ear.

“That’s right, Sunny. Good girl,” he mocks you again, his thrusts sending shockwaves throughout your body. You can feel his thumb trace around the edge of your asshole, making you mewl.

Harry leans over you, enveloping his body over yours. His lips ghost your ear again. The tone of his voice is low and sultry.

“Y’know what I think, Sunny girl?” he asks, sucking your earlobe into his mouth. “I bet you wish that sweet little baby in the other room was mine. Bet you wish it was me you walked down the aisle to.”

You gasp, heart stopping at the mention of your baby. Up until this point, you’ve been able to compartmentalize this part of your life. You start to protest, but he slips his right hand around your throat, squeezing gently.

“Hm? Based on the way you’re squeezing me, I think I’m right,” the smug tone of voice is glaringly obvious. “Think of the life we could’ve had, Sunny. I think about it every day of my fucking life. Would’ve given you the world.”

Like a devil on my shoulder you keep whisperin’ in my ear. And it’s gettin’ kinda hard for me to do the right thing here. I wanna do the right thing, baby

“I know,” you finally choke out. Your conversations during your romps remain light, usually. But, tonight. Tonight feels different. His grip on your throat tightens as you feel him start to slow his thrusts. "Fuck, Harry. I know."

“Thought I’d hit the lottery when you and your husband knocked on my door that day. Thought I’d been given a second chance. Finally have you forever.”

He’s fully panting at this point, and you’re unsure how he’s even talking. You clench around him, making him moan again. He kisses your neck, sweat freely dripping all over both of you. Instead of burying deep in you, he pulls out slightly as he comes, coating the inside and outside of your pussy, and dripping into the panties.

It’s lewd, and disgusting. But, it’s everything.

Harry’s lifts his body from his place on top of you, the slight breeze his shifting caused making you shiver. Harry moves to a half standing position to grab his phone off the bedside table. He snaps a quick photo of the scene in front of him.

You look ethereal. Your perfect, plump ass is complimented by the underwear now doused in his scent and spunk. The contrast of the dry and wet parts of the panties has him wanting to jerk off again.

Reluctantly, he pulls out, and uses his thumb to snap the fabric back in place. He doubts your husband will even give you the time of day once he’s home. But, it’d be an epic way for your secret to be exposed.

It’s nearing 1AM, so Harry stands to go into your ensuite to fetch a towel. Now, you’ve fully collapsed into the bed. He gently wipes just enough cum from around your pussy and thighs. He leaves a majority of it for the treasure hunt.

You finally build up the strength and courage to pick up a discarded T-shirt on the floor. At the same time, he’s putting on a fresh pair of boxers from his bag. You can’t bring yourself to meet his eye as you start reeling over the degrading words that came out of his mouth. You have every right to be disgusted by him, but you can’t bring yourself to be. Because he’s not wrong.

You’d made a mistake. You knew about 6 months into your marriage. You loved your husband. Or maybe the idea of him. You met him when he was 2 years into his surgical residency. The perks and the bragging rights of dating a doctor got to your head. Every date, every argument and every moment of adversity had you wondering what it’d have been like with Harry.

Life with Harry was easy. You got the best of both worlds; a hot boyfriend and a fun social life. But, when your sister introduced you to a man with a full 8-year plan carved out, you chose the safe option. What a fuck-up that was.

Harry climbs into the bed next to you, still not saying a word. That’s the thing. With Harry, you don’t have to. Your energies and emotions just work. He gently pulls you down so you’re laying horizontally on your side, and he slots his legs between yours, nuzzling his face in your neck.

In this moment, everything feels right.

Harry didn’t sleep much. He tried. But, something deep inside him was gnawing at his soul. His eyes were closed the whole night, but he never quite crossed the threshold into sleep.

He still had all his five senses; the sliver of light from the lamppost outside; the slight white noise coming from the radiator; the smell of your shampoo mixed with the lewd activities of tonight; the feel of your hot skin touching his; and finally, the residual taste of your pussy on his tongue.

The sun is rising now, signaling the end of your time together.

The sliver of light on your frame has his heart bursting with adoration. It’s true, what he’d said before. He does think about what your future would’ve been like. Your long eyelashes cast shadows on your slightly cherub cheeks. You would’ve made beautiful children. Gone on memorable family trips. And at the end of the day, fucking love each other.

Sun on your skin, 6AM and I been watchin’ you sleep. And honey, I’m so afraid you’re gonna wake up and say that you should probably leave.

A year ago, Harry thought you’d leave your husband by now. But, as time goes on, his odds of getting you back are getting less and less. His heart is breaking all over again.

You feel him stir, so you turn over and smile at him. You run your hands up and down his bare chest, feeling every prickly hair. He smiles back at you, not saying a word.

You finally pipe up, a clear, sad tone, “Y’know how much I hate saying this.”

“I should probably leave.”

You nod sadly, placing a kiss on his chest. It’s honestly a miracle the baby hasn’t woken up yet. Harry kisses you, his thumb grabbing your chin. It lasts a few minutes until you pull away. Your husband is due home in less than 45 minutes.

I want you to stay, but you’ll probably say that you should probably leave.

You should probably leave.

Harry rises to sit at the side of the bed, grabbing his phone. 6:12 AM. You think he’s fiddling with his phone to prolong his stay. His bag is already packed by the door. You smile to yourself, happy to have your lover by your side. He places one last kiss on your forehead.

Before Harry stands, he sends off an email to his realtor, confirming the sale of his house. $15,000 over asking price. It was a private showing, with an agreement that Harry would be out of the house in two weeks.

He already purchased a home — Approximately 1,326 miles away from this one. Everything is set. His mind is made up.

Harry stands, grabbing his bag. He takes one last look at you as he stands in the doorframe, an unreadable look on his face.

“Bye, Sunny girl.”

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cookie-crumblr · 3 months

Text

F!Dragon Reader x M! Yan Dragon OC

Chaos Incarnate

MINORS DNI

CW: FEM! Reader, reader is a shapeshifting dragon, reader has a vagina, reader referred to as she/her, non human anatomy(the guy’s a dragon, of course i’m giving him at least 2 dicks *cough cough* he has 3), reader is virgin, pet names for reader (little queen, ), kidnaped reader, NON CON, cervix fucking, breeding kink, unsafe sex, creampies, multiple orgasms, massive size difference/size kink, predator/prey play, severe violence against reader, dacryphilia, stomach bulge, scaleys(like furries but scaley lol idk if i should warn that but we are dragons), double(triple) penetration, 2 dicks in one hole, public sex, monster fucking i forget the word rn, not proofread whew that’s like my most ever XD ENJOY!<3 potions and magic high fantasy environment. p in v and p in b

Part 1?

You’ve been queen for only a short while. It wasn’t only your birthright, you’ve proven yourself a formidable foe, not to be trifled with on many a battlefield. Your roar has instilled fear in enemy armies, and has rallied your own troops countless times over. You are beloved by your people.

So how did you get into this situation?

A long since (thought to be) dead draconic titan kidnapping you?

The chains are tight around your torso, they’re also enchanted with some magic spell so that you cannot shift into your glorious dragon form. You feel real terror for the first in a long time.

He might eat you… He was known once as the world devourer. You gulp.

He can smell the fear on you, you could in his place, but his smirk gives it away further.

“Little queen,” Even in humanoid form his voice booms off the walls of his cavernous castle. “Why haven’t you had a brood of your own yet? hmm?” His posture is too lax for your own comfort. He inspects you while leaning against the metal bed posts of a massive larger than a standard dragon sized round bed.

“Wh-what!?” You cough and choke on your own spit, what a personal question!! Sure all of dragonkind is wondering why their new queen hasn’t at least taken consorts. “That’s too personal, and quite frankly none of your business.” You defiantly turn your head with a small “hmmpf”

“Oh little queen, that is where you are wrong,” He kicks off of the post, and slowly saunters over to you. He’s completely naked other than a gilded loincloth. You keep your eyes up to the ceiling and away from him. “I haven’t had brood of my own in… Well centuries! since i’ve been asleep and all that.”

Your brows peak, he can’t be going where you think he’s going. His claw traces your jaw and brings your face to his, he gazes upon your lips wantonly. “Please…”

“Oh I love it when you beg already. You’ll be doing plenty of that,” His claw becomes more and more draconic as he shifts it’s form to something much much sharper. You try to sink into the pillar you’re chained to to get away as best you can even though you know it’s no use.

*Slash!*

Your chains clink against the floor loudly. He’s set you free? You look back at him with only one eye opening at a time.

“Your first time should be done properly, right?” His grin is far too toothy for comfort.

“How did you—?” you start panicking now.

He smells the air, his eyes rolling in his head, and hazily coming back to yours as if he’s becoming high from the air.

“Little queen, I am ancient, even if i couldn’t smell it that you haven’t taken a mate or even a consort yet,” He shakes his head in confusion, “You are wearing that sweet innocence on your being. It is in the way you walk, the way you talk and interact with the world around you,”

“I’ve been.. busy, is all…” You look down before, “Wait, you’ve been… Watching me?” your eyes widen.

“Of course. Such a promising mate for me,” His voice is low and resonates in your body, your breathing picks up even more. You can’t help the heat in your core either. “Run away, little queen,” His toothy grin grows inhumanly wider.

You back up, clawing behind you to guide you as you keep your eyes on him, and he slowly stalks after you.

Fuck! fuck! fuck!

His castle bedroom has a window big enough for even him to fly through, it dwarfs you… Just how big is his dragon form?? you transform and start to fly swiftly away. You have to get away!

You hear his transformation behind you, it whips up the wind giving you a jet stream and his cocky roar vibrates the very air around you.

Good gods! What the fuck!?

You have to turn your head back to look, everything in your bones said to look back, even though you knew you shouldn’t, you couldn’t resist, and that pause gave him enough time to pounce upon you midair.

His ginormous claws rake into your scales, and his teeth find your neck, you roar back at him, threatening him, telling him to stop. His growl shakes your throat, your eyes water. He’s going to do it, he’s really going to steal your virginity. A dragon more than twice your size is mounting you!

“Please!” You shout your voice ringing out through serpentine maw. You feel his tentacle like members slipping under your tail, they lay heavily against your holes. Thankfully they feel wet…

“Beg for me, Little Queen!” the dragon’s voice is thunderous, you think that everyone in the world might hear your shame now. Your people certainly will.

“No!”

Two of his cocks wrap around eachother making a thick drill like shape. While his third lines up stiffly to your asshole, the other two start pushing into your vagina. You desperately flap your wings, until he grabs them and pulls hard, you feel your bones snapping, and scream into the sky.

You feel his heads press deeper and deeper, until something within you breaks, and your body convulses, blood spills even between your dragon thighs. You both spin in the air as you hurdle toward the volcanic ground below. His wings flap once and carry you through the air as he slides fully into you, his third entering your ass at the same time.

your pussy stretches to accommodate him, you suddenly feel so full all at once with the air rushing through your nostrils, you might pass out, but his claws around your sides tighten their grasp, waking you up instantly. No…

You will be shown no mercy.

tears fall down your scaled cheeks.

“Beg for me!”

His dicks drag against your walls, even through the whipping wind around you, you can hear the squelching as he fucks you. You don’t realize but he’s flown you both back to his castle, he lands on top of your body with you crashing into the ground cracking stone and sending a shockwave throughout the castle, and shaking the chandeliers above you.

You watch them sway behind him as he roars still inside of you, he cums. completely filling any crevice left. Just when you were about to sigh in relief he gets back to fucking you. Burying his dicks further inside of you, they hadn’t been all the way inside! His maw finds your shoulder and bites down, blood trickles down your arm.

He flips your significantly smaller body over, and presses a clawed hand on your bulging tummy as his dicks continue to pulverize you.

Until he grabs you by your sides and starts to use your body to fuck himself. Your body burns brighter and brighter until you’re convulsing around him and milking more cum from his still hard cocks pouring more semen inside you at the same time.

Milky white rings are building around his bases in both your holes, but he keeps cumming and using your body, he really does want to breed you! you claw the ground and try to get away again, he just pulls back harder, slamming your body back onto his cocks, it feels like he’s breaking into your cervix!

again he cums his cocks pulsing wildly inside of you, his growling is low, and his hips press as hard into you as physically possible. He pulls out after you cum again, and your body shakes violently needing respite.

you remain as silent as possible, and he returns as a human. He casts something at you that forces your body to twist and shrink until your form matches his, your tiny fleshy prison with the aesthetic matching everything that makes you, you. His over eight feet tall stature stands over you, making you, even as queen feel small and weak.

He grabs you, and pops a cork off of something, and forces a glass bottle into your open mouth. You try and shove him off of you, “It’s a health potion,” He laughs.

“As if I care!!” You’re naked and dripping his cum for the gods’ sakes! “I don’t want anything from you!”

“Youre lucky i don’t just eat you, little queen. i need a brood mother only so much.” He throws you onto the gigantic bed as your wounds are completely healed now, he approaches with a smirk. “These forms are so much fun to play in, aren’t they?”

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strwberri-milk · 4 months

Text

hey guys!! i decided last minute im gonna try to post a raf fic a day for the next week as like a little bday thing!! im hoping it forces me to write the ideas ive been meaning to write and just have been procrastinated so i hope yall dont mind the double posting for the next week <33

Sunlit Woes

Rafayel x GN!Reader || Domestic Fluff, Clingy Raf || 802 Words

For all of his complaints, Rafayel was nothing more than a cat to you when he got like this.

You didn’t know what it was about him that made him so needy, especially since you never even had an inkling that he was really that clingy. The media made him seem so untouchable. His aloof personality and neutral smiles made it hard to believe that the great artist Rafayel was indeed the same man with his face buried in your stomach, whining about the fact that you were late (you weren’t – you just couldn’t come by earlier than the agreed upon time).

“It’s not good for my heart you know!” he mumbles, muffled against your clothes as his arms wrap around your midsection. You laugh a little at the sensation of him nuzzling against you, running your fingers through his hair.

“If you wanted me to come earlier than you could have just told me to come earlier when we first made plans,” you chastise lightly with no real malice. “I would have tried to make it work if I had more of a heads up.”

“No! It’s something that you should just know! Especially since it’s been a while since the last time we saw each other.”

Now it all makes sense. You don’t know why you didn’t think of that sooner. Of course he was being extra clingy – you had just come back from a conference. He didn’t have easy access to you for the last week. You were barely able to text him back in a timely manner thanks to the packed schedule. You pity him a little, gently pushing his head back so you could see his puffed-up cheeks from pouting.

“Do you hate cats because you don’t want them to compete with you?” you tease, gently poking his cheek. “Because I’m pretty inclined to think of you as a kitty when you get like this.”

Your drastic change in subject works. He immediately turns red, hiding his face again but this time he doesn’t look like he’ll be showing himself any time soon. You don’t mind though – his ears are bright red as a sign of his embarrassment as he says something else that you can’t quite hear.

You bend down a little, gently pressing a soft kiss to his ear. You don’t mind the way the metal cuff of his earring pushes against the plush of your lips – it’s much more agreeable than having it get caught in your clothes as it has a time or two. He stiffens under your touch, acting as though you’d never kissed him before. Your hand goes to rest on his shoulder, smiling softly at the man melting under your touch.

“I’m sorry my beloved,” you say only for him to hear.

“I know you missed me. I should have been more considerate, yeah? Shouldn’t have made my pretty boy wait for me so long.”

He shoots straight up, looking offended as you cackle at him. His hands are stiff and twitch as though they want to reach up to cover his face or smack you – he just hasn’t decided yet. He’s a brilliant red made even more vibrant with the colours of the setting sun dying his form. He’s beautiful like this and for a second you understand why he’s so obsessed with capturing your likeness on canvas.

“Don’t you dare do that ever again,” he manages to sputter after a minute, mouth opening and closing like a fish on land.

Well, you suppose that’s what he is.

“I just took a page out of your book!” you say innocently, knowing that your intentions are anything but.

“You do stuff like that to me all the time! I think I’m allowed to get back at you at least once!”

“You’re messed up. Cruel even,” he shudders, shaking his head as though a breeze just passed through the room. You roll your eyes, getting up and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“I’m going to make us something for dinner. You just sit there and sulk and come eat with me once you’ve mustered up the strength, alright?”

“Fine. I’ll languish on this couch as you deprive me of your presence, make me suffer from loneliness – a fitting death for someone like me!” he complains as you laugh, heading over to the kitchen.

If you’d turned to look at him you’d see just how in love he is with you, the absolute adoration on his face as he lays on his stomach to watch you leave. He thanks the universe or whatever else it is that let him have these quiet moments with you, closing his eyes as he allows himself to bathe in the warmth of your love for as long as he is allowed to.

#love and deepspace x reader #lnds x reader #lads x reader #l&ds x reader #rafayel x reader #lnds rafayel x reader #l&ds rafayel x reader #lads rafayel x reader

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urprettylittlething · 19 days

Note

Hiii! Could I ask for a scenario about Cursed Kitty AU? Our little kitty is in her eating season and wants it so much... One morning, she wakes Gojo (or both of them) up with a blowjob... Thanks in advance~ I love this au! ^^

Thank you so much for this request, I truly apologise that it's taken me so long to get around to it but its finally here! I hope its okay <3 I kept it open so you can imagine either Gojo or Geto being the ones to receive the special treatment :)

Desperation

≧◠ᴥ◠≦≧◠ᴥ◠≦≧◠ᴥ◠≦≧◠ᴥ◠≦≧◠ᴥ◠≦≧◠ᴥ◠≦≧◠ᴥ◠≦

Yandere - Gojo Satoru x CursedKitty! Reader x Geto Suguru

A/N - thank you so much for all the love coming in on my recent post, it means the world <3 please enjoy this lovely little smutty drabble requested, I don't know if its my best work, I'm feeling a little rusty, but please enjoy nonetheless, let me know your thoughts :) I really appreciate and value what you guys think <33 I love you all so much <3 as always let me know of any errors or missed warnings, I try my best but sometimes I miss things :,)

summary - Kitty is too desperate to wait, so she takes things (a cock) into her own hands.

warnings - Yandere but it's practically non-existent here, could be seen as dubcon since they haven't spoken about it beforehand, but it is very well received and they would 100% want it again, smut ofc, hand job, mixed in with some blowjob action, she's also trying to hump the bed so there's that

genre - Drabble

word count - 450

~spelling and grammar checked~

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Snuggling deeper into the warmth that was surrounding her, Kitty searched desperately for any kind of relief. Her stomach muscles were tense, cramping up with every passing second since she had woken up.

She tries desperately to get back to sleep but the pulsating ache between her legs forbids it. No amount of rubbing or humping is fixing this little issue of hers. Even her whimpering and moaning hasn’t woken the two sorcerers sleeping either side of her.

What she noticed though, between all her fidgeting, was something particularly hard between the pair's legs. She could feel the throbbing anytime she brushed up against them, the warmth seeping through her skin. It’s something she is currently craving, yearning for, and since none of them have bothered to wake up and help her, she’s decided to take it for herself.

Shuffling down under the covers, Kitty paws at the first pair of legs she gets to. Nuzzling next to the warmth between the legs she turns her head and starts to suckle on the hard mass through his boxers.

Her hands almost frantically try to tug down the underwear he’s wearing, practically drooling at the sight of his cock being revealed to her.

She thinks that it looks heavy, almost bouncing when she pulls the boxers fully away. The flushed tip was almost dripping with liquid from where she’d been rubbing all over it.

Her ears flutter as her body does a full shiver, licking from base to tip she envelops the head into her mouth, sucking and licking as she does.

Her thighs rub and squeeze together as she moans around the cock in her mouth. Her tail curled and uncurling in delight.

Both of her hands come up, wrapping around his cock as best as they can and start pumping. She knows, has been taught, by the two of them that when she does this she can get the delicious milk they provide just for her. And she wants it bad.

So she lays there, sucking, licking, pumping away at his cock, practically humping the bed in her throes of pleasure. Startled nearly half to death when a hand comes down on the top of her head. Kneading deeply into the base of her fluttering ears and pushing her further down his cock every so slightly.

“Don’t stop now Kitty, come on, keep going.” A deep voice calls out announcing his awareness. Her eyes roll back, now working in tandem for what she so desperately wants.

Between the low grunts and moans she can just about make out a second voice, rumbling deep in his chest as laughter, before the sheets get pulled away.

“…Such a desperate little Kitty.”

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#cursedkitty #geto x reader #gojo x reader #yandere geto suguru #yandere gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto suguru #gojo saturo #yandere gojo x reader #yandere geto x reader

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charlesf1leclerc · 1 year

Text

KEEPING UP WITH THE LECLERCS

Warnings: cuteness, babies, poorly edited

Summary: Just a quick post about some of Indy Jules first moments

First tooth

It has been a good 5 months since the birth of Indy Jules. It had been utter bliss she was the sweetest and calmest baby anyone has ever met. She was always smiley and babbling away at nothing. She was definitely the picture of Charles in every single way. She was just utterly perfect.

But recently she has been a lot more fussy, abnormally fussy for your Indy. You and Charles don’t know what to do at this point. You were currently home alone as Charles was away for another race weekend and Indy was fussing like crazy. You had FaceTimed Charles multiple times but you had no idea what to do and neither did Charles.

You were feeling so hopeless that you could think of a way to soothe your daughter. So you decided that calling Pascale would be your best bet at this point even though you felt ashamed you couldn’t help your daughter yourself.

“ how long as this been happening hun?” She asked over the phone

“ a few days, I just don’t know what to do anymore?” you replied hopelessly

“ well this may be Indy teething” Your mother In law stated

“ Isn’t it a-bit to early she’s only 5 months so you really think she’s getting teeth this early?” You were so scared of time slipping away from you and your baby girl growing up to fast

“ here why don’t you get the pad of your finger and run it along her guys and see if you can feel anything”

“ alright give me a minute” I picked up Indy from her rocker and did as Pascale said and just like she predicted you could feel the top of a tooth poking through the top of her gums.

“ your right there’s a tooth coming through, what do i do she must be in so much pain” “ well do you have any of those tethers?”

“ yea I got some from my baby shower”

“ give her one of them, and place some in the freezer they work better frozen, she may be fussy but she’s going to be ok hun you have nothing to worry about”

“ thank you so much for your help Pascale I really mean it” I thanked sympathetically

“ anytime you know that”

As we hung up the phone I did as Pascale instructed before texting Charles about the situation

Y/n

I just got off the phone with your mum turns out our daughter is teething. I’m giving her her teether she’s fussy but she will be ok. Xx

Charlie ❤️

She’s teething already and I’m missing it!

Y/n

Charles it’s only teething the tooth hasn’t come fully through yet anyway it’s not like your missing her first steps

Charles ❤️

Don’t remind me, she’s growing way to fast.

Y/n

I know. We miss you

Charles ❤️

I miss you too. Keep me posted on how my girls are doing all the time. Xx

Y/n

Of course you know we will. Xx

First word

Indy Jules was now 1 year old. 1 year she was getting so big it was hard to think that she has been apart of your life for one year.

Charles and you had been trying to get her to talk for months, she’s been a very babbley baby so you thought she would have said a word by now.

Charles and you had both been trying to get her to either day dads or mama. There was no real fight as neither of you truly cared which one she said first as long as she said something.

You and Charles were sat up in bed Charles had laid Indy on the bed after she had woken up and was currently blowing raspberries on her bare stomach. You sat next to him looking over to him occasionally while also reading your book.

“ you like that, you think daddy’s funny” Charles spoke to the baby in-front of him

“ daddy” Indy spoke

Both your heads shot up

“ what did she just say?” You inquired

“ I think…. I think she said daddy”

“Come on baby say it again daddy, daddy” Charles encouraged

“ daddy” Indy squeaked lifting her feet up and placing on of them in her mouth.

“Omg Charles she said daddy” you spoke with tears in your eyes.

“She’s growing up way to fast but that’s the cutest thing ever” Charles wrapped his arms around you before picking the baby up from the bed and planting kisses all over her chubby cheeks.

First steps

14 months that’s how old Indy was now. She was now speaking more words then ever and still a clam baby but now with a little crazy as she was crawling all around. You both believed that she would be walking any day now as she had tried standing up multiple times.

You and Charles were seated in the living room of your town home both siting on your knees across from one another. As Charles held Indy’s hands as she stood on her feet.

“ ok walk to mamma come on baby you can do it” Charles encouraged pushing her forward a little.

He slowly slept to of her hands and left her standing for a second before she slowly wobbled to fall to the floor

“ oh it’s ok baby” I said as I picked her up standing her back up again “ go on walk to daddy, you know you want to”

Charles held his hands out wiggling his fingers

Slowly just like Charles did before you let go of her hands but this time instead of wobbling she took a step forward and then on more before tumbling to the floor.

“ YES BABY aww you did it you took your first steps” Charles squeaked picking her up and spinning her around in the air as she giggled

You watched in admiration before standing up to be at the level of Charles.

“ I’m so proud of you baby” you spoke storming her head now full of hair

“ aww my brave girl, your getting too big” Charles laughed

———————————————————————

Tysm for reading I hope you enjoyed! Pls feel free to leave requests for this story in my inbox or any little messages you have you can leave in my request inbox as well xxx

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avonne-writes · 2 months

Text

Leaving

Random angsty HS AU one-shot I typed out in one go because I felt inspired. Set in Year 12, February, four months after Broken Things.

Posted on AO3

Gale takes a deep, calming inhale and closes his eyes. Resting on his bare chest, Bucky's head rises and falls as he breathes. He strokes the back of Bucky’s neck with his thumb swiping slowly back and forth. It’s warm and cozy in his bedroom, only the bedside lamp Georgia bought for him provides some light. The house is quiet and empty, theirs alone tonight.

His right hand lies on the mattress, limp after minutes spent clutching at the sheets. Tonight was the first time they had sex all the way in four months, the first time since Gale almost jumped off that bridge. Their longest break so far. In the past few months, there was always something that didn’t align - either the lack of privacy or the lack of desire. It was difficult to feel such a thing when Gale’s thoughts were consumed by darkness.

It felt nice to experience this again and reconnect with Bucky. Gale missed it. He missed feeling happy and carefree in love. Even now that it's over and they're cuddling in the afterglow, those positive feelings fight back the grey depression creeping in at the sides. It’s nothing but a twinge in his ribs, easy to ignore. He’s getting better.

He traces the shell of Bucky's ear and allows himself a small smile.

Suddenly, Bucky grabs the wrist of his right hand. Frowning, Gale watches as he raises it closer and rubs his thumb over the long, thin scar that runs down the inside of it, right where Gale’s veins run in blue lines under his pale skin. Oh. The implications of that touch are clear. A sense of dread stirs in Gale's chest.

"Did you do this to yourself?" Bucky asks, bluntly, quiet but firm. It’s an old scar and Bucky has seen it before, Gale’s sure. But he never had a reason to ask this, did he, until this year.

"No." Gale says. It’s true - but the question makes the shadows stronger, the taste in his mouth bittersweet. "I was ten, played somewhere I shouldn't have. Some kind of shed at my uncle's place. Fell and slashed my arm on a nail. Didn’t get the artery but it wasn’t pretty. Dad yelled at me for it, but then he took me to the ER himself and -" Gale shrugs. An acidic feeling pools in his stomach. "- it was kind of nice."

He doesn’t see much of Bucky's face, but he can tell that his nostrils flare and his jaw clenches before it relaxes again. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, but the silence doesn’t feel tense. Perhaps it's the effect of pleasure lingering or the sleepiness making Gale's eyelids heavy, but he doesn’t feel like he should break it. He lets Bucky take his time.

A few more seconds pass, then Bucky draws Gale’s wrist to his lips and kisses his scar. The tenderness of the gesture pulls at something tight and sensitive in Gale's chest, like stitches tugging the skin closed, and he doesn’t like it. He would rather bleed out in silence than feel this again, but he takes it. He takes it because he wants to get better. Just like he took the past months of kindness and care he received despite the shame. To get better.

When Bucky doesn’t let his arm go but keeps it pressed to his face, he starts to suspect that something is wrong. He doesn’t know what, and the possibility that he caused it scares him. They had such a good night together. Why is happiness always so fleeting?

Gently, he combs the fingers of his left hand through Bucky's curls. "Hey."

Bucky's breathing stutters. It leaves his nose in a shaky rush of air against Gale's wrist. "It’s almost March."

Gale racks his brain to remember the significance of the date until it slams into him - the month when Bucky’s dad left seven years ago. It's been ages since they talked about the man. He hasn’t come up much since Neil entered their lives, but it doesn't take a genius to guess what brought back Bucky's troubled feelings, and Gale has to swallow against the guilt that ties a knot in his throat.

"Darling -" The endearment, so rarely used, falls from his lips before he can think about it.

Bucky reacts with a rattling sob that he chokes immediately back down. Something warm and wet trickles down Gale's forearm, like his blood did all those years ago, but he feels the pain of torn flesh in his chest this time.

"Please don’t leave." Bucky whispers. He sounds like a child.

Gale's heart clenches in sympathy at the same time as his brain blares an alarm coupled with the sense that it should have gone off a long, long time ago, but he always dismissed the signs. "I won’t. I'm staying."

"Mom's gone again." Bucky says as if Gale's words were just a single bucket for an ocean of fears. "What if she doesn’t come home?"

"She’ll come back, I promise." Gale tells him, reaching down with his left to stroke Bucky's broad back. "And I'm here too."

"You’re here now." Bucky replies. The tint of anger in his voice takes Gale aback, but, he supposes, it’s just a reflection of helplessness and unwelcome vulnerability. "But what if you change your mind? You could leave me tomorrow or next week or after graduation."

Bucky puts Gale's arm back on the bed. Smeared tears glisten on his skin. He pushes himself off Gale and sits on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees and face hidden in his palms. He rubs at his eyes in frustration, irritated by the liquid pain escaping his grip no matter how he tries to rein it in. His hands are shaking.

Gale moves to his knees to follow him and hugs him from behind. He lays his head on Bucky’s shoulder, hair falling over Bucky's skin in a soft wave. His palms push warmly against Bucky's naked abdomen. "I'm not breaking up with you."

"I'm scared." Bucky mumbles into his hands, his tone defeated. "You have no idea, Gale." He sniffles. "Everyone I love leaves me. Anytime something changes, I lose someone. No one ever wants to stay in touch with me. Maybe I just suck at it, I don't know. Too much. Too fucking annoying. I wish my dad merry Christmas every year but he leaves me on read. I double and triple and quadruple text my friends like a fucking loser. Never knew when to lie down and give up. I'm just a clown, that's what I am."

It's an abrupt and incredibly melodramatic tirade, in the way only Bucky can make it, but Gale’s heart breaks all the same. He hears all the little things that built up to cause this, starting from the pit of tar that's the absence of Bucky's father to all the ghosting Bucky had to endure from past friends and teammates. Pets dying. His mom working too much, Neil going on road trips. Teachers preparing them to say goodbye to high school. Then Gale went and threw a sparkler into this volatile mix by trying to jump off a bridge, then distancing himself because he couldn’t handle being loved when it felt like he didn’t deserve it.

What a pair they make.

"You’re not a clown." Gale says soothingly, rubbing circles over Bucky's heart. "You just wear your heart on your sleeve. It gets hurt more easily." He presses a kiss to Bucky's shoulder. "You have so much love to give."

"Nobody wants it." Bucky cries, then his muscles tense under Gale’s touch. "Fuck. Fuck it all."

"Calm down."

"I can’t." Bucky jiggles his leg, then tries to pry Gale's hands off himself. "I need to go for a run. Shake this shit off."

Gale sits up and wrestles with him to keep him in place, but it just makes Bucky more agitated. After a moment of this, Gale loses his patience and snaps. He grips Bucky's wrists and yanks him close. "John. Look at me. Look at me."

There's a raw emotion in Bucky’s eyes when they meet his. Gone is the gleam of joy from earlier tonight. All that's left is the look of someone who feels trapped and desperate to get out and run, away from the flood of anxiety he usually keeps at bay. Gale should have known this was coming - all the clinging and the insatiable need to be close since Gale almost killed himself couldn’t have been caused by that near-tragedy only.

Deep down, he knew this. He knew it and yet he let it get to this point, didn’t even try to address it until he wanted his personal space, like some selfish douchebag, and he feels like an ass for it now, because he can see how it all adds up in Bucky's mind. Even the slightest sign or reminder that he and Gale aren't fused together and can, in fact, be separated any time by death or a break-up, triggers Bucky's fear of abandonment.

Gale rubs his thumbs over Bucky's wrists. "I want it." When that seems to placate something in Bucky, he lets go to cup Bucky's tear-stained face instead. "I want it. I love you."

The way Bucky looks at Gale is like someone reaching for his last hope in the dark. It is too much - Gale can’t be consumed by someone else like that, his personality rebels against it - but it's not a time for nuance and compromise. He strokes Bucky's cheeks.

"Breathe."

Bucky takes a deep breath, another, then drops his forehead to Gale's. "I'm too clingy."

Yes, Gale wants to say. He keeps his mouth shut. His hands find Bucky's. He pulls them to his own neck, where he's warm and where his pulse beats, strong and alive.

They stay like that, embracing in silence for the longest time. Bucky's phone buzzes on the nightstand every now and then when he gets a notification, but they both ignore it. Useless noise. They don’t mean anything. Only a fraction of those interactions matter. Gale needs to help Bucky learn this. Protect him from his own too big heart.

He gives Bucky a kiss on the lips, then another one on his cheek when Bucky doesn’t return it.

"Did you really not do it on purpose?" Bucky asks quietly. He doesn’t need to clarify what he means. Gale can tell that he didn’t believe Gale's story for a minute.

"It wasn’t on purpose." Gale replies. He pauses, but he knows he needs to go on. "But I knew I was breaking his rules. He wanted too much from me, so I antagonized him."

Bucky breathes in, breathes out, then cracks a shaky laugh. "My little rebel."

To steal a kiss, Gale nudges his nose. "I won’t follow anyone I don't want to. I'll find a way to resist."

Bucky’s smile gains strength, and the touch of his hands turns flirty. He traces the line of Gale's ribs. "Are you saying you prefer to lead?"

Happy to put all the negative emotions behind them, Gale lays a hand on Bucky’s chest to push him on his back. "What do you think?"

Bucky wipes his right eye one more time, then reaches up to tangle his fingers in Gale's hair. "I think you do. Tonight, at least."

Gale presses his lips to the center of Bucky's chest but doesn’t say anything. Something about that makes Bucky smile. "Okay, Buck. Show me how you like it, baby."

A flash of a grin, then Gale is kissing him, his touch deep and hungry. He ignores the low simmer of trepidation in his chest about the future, about leaving, and just sinks into all the love Bucky wants to give him. He’ll tame it before it gets suffocating. He promises.

#buck x bucky #mota #gale cleven #john egan #clegan #hs au #my writing

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onlyswan · 2 years

Text

summary: in which jungkook won’t tell you what’s wrong and you get emotional motion sickness.

> angst, fluff / wc: 2.6k

> warnings: poor oc is hungry but gets nauseous from watching jk play mirror’s edge, one (1) ass slap, tearsss but i just love this couple very much T_T

note: my last post for the year, a humble gift from my heart <3 i hope you carry even a tiny piece of it with you to 2023 and always remember to treat yourself with the same kindness you give to your loved ones <3 i love you all :]

—

you muffle a groan, burying your face into the pillow underneath your head. jungkook switched between five games in two hours, and it seems that he ended up settling with mirror’s edge because he’s been playing it for almost an hour already.

you can confirm that your boyfriend is stronger than you in many different aspects, because you genuinely don’t understand how he’s not getting motion sickness from playing this game while you, the lone audience, has been battling with it the entire time. but most of all, because it looks like he can hold out on you for a long time, and even if your life depended on it, you can’t do the same to him.

you turn your head just enough to take a peek. his back is facing you from the foot of the bed. it’s been your view since you arrived in his room, along with the 50-inch television infront of him. you argued that he’s sitting too close to the screen again, but he only brushed you off with a quick it’s just for today, and he hasn’t spoken a word to you since.

not being able to physically meet for periods of time is normal in your relationship, but the less frequent communication from your boyfriend for the past two weeks has been concerning you. you don’t like it. you don’t like the shorter phone calls, and the fewer to no text messages. you don’t like his avoidant eyes, his dismissive words, and when he dismisses you altogether. you don’t like the gnawing feeling of something is wrong and i need to fix this when you’re completely clueless, lying on his cold bed by yourself.

when you catch him taking a break to drink water, you seize the opportunity to snatch away his controller. your knees sink on the mattress, and you slightly lose balance as you fall back on your bottom.

he reacts quickly, trapping you in between his arms to steal it from behind your back, but the rough complaint melts on his tongue when your eyes properly meet for the first time in what feels like forever.

“are you mad at me? did i do something wrong?”

jungkook’s heart drops to his stomach, his facial features softening at the sight of your glassy eyes begging for answers. despite this, you still can’t get a good grasp on what’s running in his mind. and it’s killing you.

“no, why would i be mad at you?”

“i don’t know! that’s why i’m asking.” you answer frustratedly, gripping the controller in your hand tighter. “we haven’t seen each other in weeks and you’ve been acting like i don’t exist since i came here. it’s already dinnertime and i’m hungry and upset and i- i fucking miss you.”

you chase his eyes as you speak but he takes a step back to recreate distance between the two of you.

“it’s not like that. i’ve just been distracted with playing.”

a scoff of hurt and disbelief escapes your mouth, his words and actions only adding salt to your unattended wounds. “are you being serious right now? do you even want me here?”

when jungkook realizes the stupidity of the excuse he came up with, it’s already too late. he’s just been jumping from game to game, running around aimlessly, avoiding the root of your present argument like a fool. the foreign expression of hurt on your face sends him scrambling to fix what the damage he caused.

“of course- of course, i do. that’s why i agreed that you should visit. because i miss you too.”

his desperate hold on your arms gets shrugged off when the controller lands on his lap, with you muttering, “well, it doesn’t feel like it.”

“baby-”

“it’s okay. go play your games. just wake me up when you’re ready to have a real conversation with me, okay?”

you crawl back to your side of the bed, tucking the blanket up to your shoulders and burying your face in the soft cotton. it does its job in encaging you in your own little bubble, but the smell of cozy baby powder snaps the thread of resolve you’ve been recklessly balancing on. tears drip from your eyes and stain the grey blanket shades darker. and you silently pray he would just continue playing his damn game already so crying would feel less suffocating.

“but you said you’re hungry, baby. let me make you something.” he coos, his big palm stroking your calf lovingly to coax you.

oh, so now he wants to be sweet and attentive?

“does that mean you’re ready to talk?”

and you’re met by the silence that you’ve come to recognize all too well.

“then nevermind. i already lost my appetite anyway.”

“okay,” he responds after a few beats, his lips replacing his palm on your naked calf for a chaste, feather-light kiss. and you want to scream because the intimacy of it all only makes the yearning for his love, his attention, and god, his presence, swallow you whole.

it’s difficult to have a fight when you’re the only one fighting.

you take the opportunity to wipe away your tears and sniffle as quietly as possible when the loud footsteps and grunts of his character fill the room again. but you couldn’t bear to watch another second of the game. you quickly pull back the blanket over your eyes, the nausea creeping its way back into your system and rendering you imprisoned underneath the covers. soon enough, you slip into a slumber.

jungkook exits the game after fifteen minutes. after that small altercation, he just couldn’t get into it anymore. the little butterfly sticker you put in the middle of the controller made it impossible for his mind to focus on anything else but patching things up with you. you designed the controller because it’s the one you always use when you play together, claims it’s the luckier one, and these days he finds himself instinctively reaching for it when he plays alone.

you’ve been leaving these pieces of you all over his life. you already told him that you’re in this for the long run. what is he so afraid of?

“baby, are you really asleep?” he whispers with his elbow anchored on the bed and the heel of his palm supporting his head. after gaining no response, he carefully lifts off the blanket from your face.

his lips curve into a frown as he traces your puffy eye with the pad of his thumb. making you cry is exactly what he’s been wanting to avoid, but it seems that this served as a lesson on what not to do instead. he created another problem in the process of concealing existing problems, and he hates himself for not considering your feelings firsthand.

he kisses your forehead, creating a light smacking noise as he does so, before whispering once more. “would you get angrier if i don’t wake you up? i feel bad about disturbing your sleep.”

“i would.” your eyelids slowly flutter open, droopy eyes staring directly at his wide, doe ones. “now, care to tell me why you’ve been ghosting me?”

it’s only been over a month since you said i love you for the first time, and the paranoia of what if he realized that he doesn’t want this relationship anymore will continue to keep you up at night unless you confront him about it today. as much as his answer scares the shit out of you.

“i messed up. i’m sorry. that wasn’t my intention.”

jungkook sighs heavily, sitting up on the bed and resting his back on the headboard to gather himself together. you’re always straightforward— you’re not afraid to ask for what you want. he knows he already said it before, but ultimately, this was the reason why he gravitated towards you. you’re a breath of fresh air. but on the other hand, he’s used to putting his best foot forward. it’s always about what they would be pleased to see, because if he shows them something they don’t like, he would get eaten alive. that’s just how he makes a living and how he keeps his passions within reach.

“then what were you trying to do, jungkook?”

but now that you’re sitting by his side, the anxiety he’s been fostering in his mind is starting to look ridiculous. how could this lovely human being wrapped in a blanket, adorably scowling at him, ever eat him alive? if anything, you would share the blanket with him and build a fire to keep him warm.

“things at work are just- they’re really a mess right now. it’s always been like that but it’s a different type of overwhelming and i’m scared because . . .” he pauses when he feels his voice faltering due to his emotions crashing like tidal waves along the rocky shore. he may not be able to look at your eyes right now but instead, he holds on to your hand resting on his thigh.

“what if we’re flying too high too fast because we’re being set up to crash? i didn’t- no, it’s just . . . if i talked to you in the past two weeks, i would’ve just complained about how i’m having a hard time over and over again and i would cry, or worse, make you cry.”

“yah! what’s wrong with complaining and crying?” you scold him in a whiny tone, wiping his tears away with the back of your hand while your own freely stream down your face. “you’re a human being above everything else. you have the right to feel your feelings. if you don’t, they will pile up and the weight of it will break you.”

jungkook’s head falls on your shoulder. he sobs softly as his tears soak through the material of your shirt, and the scene breaks your heart so painfully that it’s difficult to breathe. your fingers comb through his hair tenderly, and your hand pulls away from his to wipe off the tears on his chin.

“don’t treat me like a stranger. please. i love you. i know i won’t fully understand everything you’re going through because we lead different lives, but we can still share the weight of it, and we can cry it out together. won’t you let me do that? won’t that make you feel even a little better?”

when he lifts up his head, you’re surprised to see a small smile playing on his lips. you blink at him blankly in confusion.

“you’re not pranking me right now, are you?”

“no! why would you think tha-”

“if you want to break up, just tell me directly like a real man would!”

he panics. “no, no, no!” he catches your furious fists pounding at his torso, holding them securely to his chest to calm you down. “baby! listen- that’s the last thing i want!”

you cease your attack, chest heaving as you wait for him to explain himself. alright, you may not eat him alive but you sure can fight him.

“it’s just funny because i remembered that the hyungs said i should talk to you because you’re the only person i listen to.”

you look at him suspiciously, giving up your futile attempts on escaping from his firm hold. “well, were they right?”

“they were. they tried talking to me too, but i couldn’t shake off the fear of breaking down infront of you.” his grip on your wrists loosens. he peppers your knuckles with kisses before releasing you altogether. “turns out that’s exactly what i needed. my heart feels so much lighter. thank you.”

you climb on his lap quietly, hanging on to him like a koala bear, with your limbs wrapped around his waist and neck. you’ve been dying to embrace him again since the moment you watched him drive away from your apartment more than two weeks ago. you regret that you didn’t stay in his arms for at least ten seconds longer despite knowing that he wouldn’t have the time to meet up with you again in the near future.

“are you crying again?“ he asks worriedly after hearing you sniffle.

“i really thought you were trying to break up with me. i had no idea what i did.”

“i’m sorry. i’m sorry-” your cheek is granted with an apologectic kiss. “it was an asshole move.” and then your temple. “i wasn’t thinking straight. i’m sorry, baby. i promise all my free time is yours again.”

he gives a final kiss on the top of your head before resting his cheek on it, rubbing your back with gentleness. he blinks them away when tears also start filling his eyes again, but he only made it easier for them to fall.

“lean on me. use me. i want to be there when you need me the most, okay?” you pat his cheek softly, connecting your lips with his but it doesn’t even last for five seconds because-

“i can’t even make out with my boyfriend in peace.” you grit your teeth in irritation as you tug your bag closer by its straps. you lazily dish out your ringing phone from the pocket. after seeing who the caller is, you opt with setting your ringer in silent to let the call remain unanswered.

it’s the group leader in one of your on-going school projects, and you’re 100% sure he’s going to beg you to do another groupmate’s share of work because he’s not satisfied with them again. unfortunately, you’re not in the mood to be compassionate today.

“my love?”

“hmmm?” you hum absentmindedly as you scroll through the notifications from the group chat.

“why is my shampoo in your bag?”

“oh-” you smile hesitantly as scrunch your nose, eyes landing on the two bottles of shampoo nestled in the corner of your unzipped bag. “please forgive me. i wasn’t thinking straight either.”

“that doesn’t really explain anything.” he rolls his eyes jokingly.

“well- uhm- when i went to pee earlier, i thought there was a big chance i would walk out of your house broken up with you. then i remembered that you went to like ten stores to look for that shampoo when you ran out ‘cause it’s the best one you tried when you had bleached hair . . .”

the smile on his face gradually fades as the realization dawns on him.

“and you also told me that the production already got discontinued-“

“so if we broke up and you were angry at me, you would’ve stolen my shampoo?!” he exclaims, flabbergasted by your simple yet deliberate plan on delivering revenge. “how is that not thinking straight-”

“but for the record, i realized that i would feel guilty since you bleach your hair a lot so i wasn’t going to go through with it!” you abruptly defend yourself, taking out the bottles of shampoo and handing them over to him to strengthen your claims.

he tosses them aside to hold your waist, chuckling in amusement when you cutely pout at him. that’s what you always do when you try to get away with something. oh my god, he missed your face so much.

“why? if i was really planning to ghost you into a breakup then i would’ve deserved worse.”

“but you won’t do that to me.”

“mhm-mm. never.”

“and from now on you’re going to complain and cry to me when you’re struggling.”

he eagerly nods in agreement. “i promise. i love you.”

“i love you.” you give him a kiss on the lips before climbing off his lap to reach for the controller he left on the edge of the bed. “now i want to play fifa.”

he playfully slaps your ass, which doesn’t elicit a reaction from you because honestly, you expected nothing less.

“sure, but shouldn’t we eat first? it’s almost 7pm.”

you groan internally when the thought of food, and your boyfriend’s exquisite cooking at that, remains unappetizing. “you can eat first, babe. watching you play mirror’s edge really made me feel sick.”

—

taglist! @alanniys @jjkeverlast @queenofdragonsandcats @yvesismywife @enhypenslay @cramseys @witchfqllen @virgogentlejk @rkie @jeonwiixard @monilyv @bermudaisy @ameliejeannelaurent @takochelle @the1921-monsters @investedreader @seagulljk @yeow6n @yoonqkiss @hopeworldjimin @lllucere @unnatae @zqynmlk @bxbyyyjocelyn @zkdlllin @koostarcandy @tswisal1 @fragmentof-indifference @laylasbunbunny @jjk-jeongirl @cherishoshi @taexidriver @luaspersona @yn-lifeu @loveejkk + send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

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toomiieimagiines · 2 months

Note

Akito kissing hcs

EEEEK! i actually am a fan of akito!!^_^ i think he’s very handsome! tell me what you think about these banners! i’m loving it unfortunately… makes it so much easier to make ‘em! obligatory sorry for OOCness, i don’t read the story’s half as much as i should!^_^” (omg also i wrote this while drinking a diet baja blast OMGGGG it’s so good)

Akito Shinonome kissing hc’s + more!!

He’s such a bully!

He knows how much you love kissing him, and uses it against you…

He can be seriously unbelievable…

Like he will give you the bestest kiss and than just…. leave you there

Will give a super super mean oblivious laugh when you ask him where he’s going…

“Huhhh? I thought we were finished, I have rehearsal, y’know..”

Messes with you cuz he knows it’ll make you so so frustrated:(

He’s really not trying to be mean!! He just loves you so much, and thinks that your angry face is really cute…

I wish I could say his lips aren’t chapped…

Literally LAYERS on chapstick too. He doesn’t know why it never works, and refuses to use the heavy duty ones because they “taste bad”

Tastes citrusy, he refuses to admit that he puts chapstick on

Will sometimes also taste like coffee (He likes it sweet, please don’t make fun of him. He really did try to be a bad boy and drink it black, he almost threw up.)

Is kinda rough if he’s had a bad day…

Bit your lip a little too hard one day and it started bleeding… He felt really bad…

Can and WILL grab you by the waist though… He’s not heartless! He can be a gentleman!

He is NOT above the occasional cheek cup if he’s feeling nice!

Talks smack and all, but one time he followed your kiss when you tried to break apart…

He was really embarrassed… needed a couple hours to stare at the wall

He knew then that every dynamic he thought you two had was a lie….

another mini fic!! >_< sorry if my posts have been feeling short, none of the asks i’ve answered have sparked me with enough inspiration for something long…^_^|||~ reminder you don’t have to only send pjsk asks! i’m in almost every fandom… =_=

Sometimes you wonder if your boyfriend enjoys watching you suffer, and it may sound weird to say it out loud, but you’re truly starting to believe he’s a sadist! What other explanation could there be for something this cruel?! It’s been about half an hour since you’ve given up, but you can’t stop thinking about it.

“Babe,” he chuckles, relishing in your frustrated expression. “Quit pouting, you’re being quiet.”

“‘M not pouting,” You defend. Spoiler alert, you WERE pouting, but you can’t help it! You’ve tried to go in for a kiss three times already, and he’s ‘coincidentally’ not noticed. He has to notice! There’s no way he’s hasn’t!

“Sure…” He laughs again, and that royally pissed you off. Just that boyish grin was enough to make you faint for a million years! How dare he do this to you?! You let out a noise of annoyance.

“I’m gonna get you, even if it kills me!” You let go of his hand, deciding to stuff yours in your - well technically his, since you’re wearing his jacket- pockets. This makes his eye twitch.

“What are you even talking about?” He snatches your hand back out of your pocket, and you can’t help but laugh - despite the frustration. He obviously can’t stomach the taste of his own medicine, so you pull your hand away again - much to his displeasure. “Quit doin’ that!” He stops walking, deciding to grab both of your hands.

“Doing what??” You play dumb, mocking his original cockiness as you pull your hands away.

“Doing that! Hold my han-“ He stops, realizing what’s happening, “you’re petty. You’re REALLY petty. I did that like 30 minutes ago!”

“If you let me kiss you I’ll hold your hand again.” You offer, shrugging with fake indifference. He sighs, he feels like a dog begging for a bone. He shouldn’t have teased you…

“You make me act like a total chump, I don’t like it.” He grumbles, leaning down slightly to give you better access, you intertwine your hands. HA! You won.

You close the gap, feeling his lips against yours. They’re slightly chapped, tasting of a fruit you can’t quite put your finger on. Your heart immediately settled, enjoying the warm feeling of your boyfriend. It feels like you’re mad for eachother, the shape of his lips molding into yours perfectly. The two of you stayed there for a while, before you realized a full out makeout session in public isn’t the best look for either of you. But as you tried to pull away, you found a stumbling Akito following the kiss, almost falling on top of you. His eyes shoot open once he realized what he just did

“I-“ His face is red when he looks away, you snicker. “I didn’t mean to do that!”

“You love me!~” You say in a sing-song tone, teasing him.

“I-“ He sighs, sounding defeated. “I do!…”

He was spacey for the rest of your walk home, staring down at the pavement. All he could think of is how weak he is to you.

‘God, I’m totally whipped!’

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nekropsii · 4 months

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what do you see in equius ?? genuine question i don't mean to sound rude but to me she's just really offputting. she gives me such creep vibes that i can't seem to get over and every time i read a page with her it just gets worse..... like when i first read nep & eq's chats i was sitting there wondering if this was outright abuse or at least bullying of some kind??? it felt like it idk.......

but honestly i do wanna see an equius liker's opinion on him because i can't understand it like at all and i'm probably just missing something that all the equius likers saw and i didnt LMAO

Well, considering I’m an Alpha Trolls Enthusiast and have been for, like, a decade, as well as having Horror as a Special Interest since age… What, 3? I’d say I personally have a pretty strong stomach for Weird and Offputting in fiction, lol. Stronger than most. Equius isn’t a very palatable character at all, I’ll be the first to admit that - a lot of the characters I enjoy the most in Homestuck aren’t very palatable… But I find ‘em real interesting, personally. The fact that they aren’t palatable adds to the intrigue for me, and poor execution tends to be a total weakness of mine. Again, Alpha Trolls Enthusiast for a decade straight.

I have a post here that talks a bit about my reading of Equius, I’d recommend giving it a read. I see Eridan and Equius as being very similar characters - not necessarily due to their shared hemoloyalty, but because they’re both teens falling down online pipelines. They’re very prevalent Kinds Of Guy that no one wants to talk about.

But people talk about Eridan plenty even to this day - he was even a fandom favorite for a while, being the fandom’s first Prettyboy Sad Gay Anime Prince long before Dirk… So he doesn’t reel in as much interest for me as the chronically overlooked Equius.

If there’s anything to know about me, it’s that I love a good underdog.

Equius-Likers, from my experience, are very aware of his issues. It’s part of the draw. Enjoyment of him tends to be an analytical fixation. I haven’t met a single Equius-Liker that hasn’t had some very complex thoughts on him. They’re just kinda quiet about it. Fitting.

Unfortunately, I’m Aranea But Real, so. No quietness here.

Your response to Equius is valid. It’s also intended, I feel. To specifically address the bits about concerns of his relationship with Nepeta not being healthy… I mean, it’s not abusive, but it’s definitely more complicated than fan art would lead you to believe, as always. “Complicated” is to be expected from a Moirallegiance - remember what they exist for?

Nepeta is very much so in control of the things going on, and their relationship is pretty equal, all things considered, so I wouldn’t be worrying too much about that. She very distinctly does not lack agency here - Nepeta is the one who has a leash on Equius, not the other way around. Equius is mean, because that’s the way she is to… Everyone, more or less, but she’s not of any danger to Nepeta. They have a fine Moirallegiance. 1,000% more functional than whatever the fuck Karkat and Gamzee had going on.

Anyway. I think Equius is neat, and has both missed and oft overlooked potential. One of the very few characters I’d be 100% down to have seen more content of in the comic.

Once again, check out this post. I still think it’s decent. Maybe you will, too.

#also there’s a big difference between ‘Equius fan’ and ‘Meowrails fan’. i am very specifically referring to Equius fans. you understand.#homestuck #beta trolls #equius zahhak #eridan ampora #nepeta leijon #cw abuse #<== mentioned #meowrails.ship #equius.pdf #nepeta.pdf #nekro.pdf #nekro.sms

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lovestay-channie · 5 months

Text

Belated Birthday- Hyunjin Imagine

Pairing: Hyunjin x gn!reader

Genre: fluff fluff fluff

Summary: it's been a month since hyunjin's birthday, and you decide to surprise him <3

Word Count: 830+

Warning: n/a

A/N: a late birthday post for hyunjin! i'm sorry i haven't been writing as much as i used to. i hope you enjoy this belated birthday post!

Long distance relationships are never easy, especially when someone is an idol. You are very grateful for technology so you can FaceTime Hyunjin on his secret iPhone he still has. It was Hyunjin’s birthday last month, but Hyunjin’s schedule didn’t allow you two to see each other. You tried to coordinate celebrating during his holiday break, but you had multiple work trips that didn’t allow you to be together. Therefore, you decided to surprise him.

Schedules finally cleared up for you, and you wanted to do something for Hyunjin not only for his birthday but for all the hard work he has been doing. You texted Hyunjin before his schedules started, telling him to come to your apartment when he is done at 8PM. You baked him a small, simple cake, blew up pink and white balloons, put on a birthday hat, and had a popper in your hands. Your present was waiting for him on the table next to the cake. Nerves started to build in your stomach as time was reaching closer to when he is supposed to arrive. The little surprise had to be perfect. Time hasn’t been kind to you both, and you wanted this to be special for him.

Ding dong.

The doorbell rang. He is here. You take a deep breath before you shout, “Come in Hyunnie!” Right as Hyunjin walks through the door, you pop the popper in your hand. “Surprise!!”

Hyunjin’s face brightened at the setup you have for him. His cheeks turn pink as he sees you with your cute birthday hat that was definitely made for a child’s head. “Baaaabe! What are you doing?” he says, walking to you with open arms.

You wrap your arms around his middle. “I wanted to celebrate your birthday properly.”

“We already celebrated my birthday though,” he says, kissing your cheek.

“Yeah through a video call!” you pout.

“Being with you is all that matters, near or far,” he smiles. You roll your eyes and tuck your face into his chest. He giggles and squeezes you tighter, leaving a kiss on your forehead. He turns his head to the kitchen table. “Is that a cake?”

You pull away from his arms, “Yes it is! You want a piece?”

He nods his head frantically and skips to the kitchen. You follow behind him and grab a knife. You slice the cake to place them on paper plates. Hyunjin pulls out a chair to sit down. He takes a bite of the cake, making his cute “Hmm” noise as he eats. “This is yummy!”

“I’m glad!” you say, taking a bite of your cake.

Hyunjin’s eyes scan over to the pink wrapping paper next to him. He picks it up and glances at you with a questioning look. “Is this for me?” he asks.

“We aren’t celebrating my birthday,” you tease.

He chuckles at your sarcasm before pushing his cake to the side to have his present in front of him. He picks up the card that was taped to the top of the box that hid new paint supplies you got from Paris. He carefully opens the envelope to see a homemade card. It was simple, white with little flower doodles surrounding the handwritten words ‘Happy Birthday Hyunnie’.

“I wrote this before your birthday. I wanted to send it to you so it would arrive on your birthday, but I was too late to the post office. So, here it is now!” you explain.

He smiles fondly at the card before reading.

My Dearest Hyunjin,

As the sun rises on this enchanting day, I am filled with an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the gift of your presence in my life. Today, as we celebrate the anniversary of your birth, I am reminded of the countless reasons why you are not just my partner but also my soulmate and my greatest treasure.

Your birthday is a beautiful reminder of the light you bring into the world, illuminating even the darkest corners with your infectious laughter, boundless compassion, and unwavering love. With each passing year, you become more extraordinary, more inspiring, and more deserving of all the happiness and love this world has to offer. I am forever inspired by you.

On this special day, I want to express my deepest admiration for the incredible person you are and my unending devotion to the journey we share together. May this day be filled with laughter, joy, and unforgettable moments, and may the year ahead be brimming with blessings, adventures, and endless love. Happy birthday, my love. Here's to celebrating you today and every day, now and forever.

With all my heart,

Y/N

Tears form on Hyunjin’s waterline. His chin quivers as he reaches the end of the letter. He puts the letter back in the envelope and pulls you into a tight hug. “That was the most beautiful thing I have ever read,” he says, pulling away to cradle your face. “I love you so much, Y/N. For eternity, I will love you.” He pulls your face to give you a longing, gentle kiss.

You pull away slowly, “I love you for eternity, too. Happy belated birthday Hyunnie.”

#lovestaychannie #stray kids #skz imagines #skz fanfic #stray kids fluff #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #hyunjin imagine #hyunjin x reader #stray kids imagine

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cozage · 1 year

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Hi! :)feel free to decline this if it’s not up your ally or you don’t really have anything else to say about it but, I was very interested when you mentioned law having anxiety about if the amber lead disease would be passed down to his kid, so I was wondering if you’d be willing to write a little offshoot of that (hcs/short fic/whatever format you want) about law and his partner trying to ease each other’s anxieties about it and just how he’d handle it in the long term plus maybe if it wasn’t able to be told if they had it or not before it was born seeing Law finally get to see the kid and his reaction him it having/not having it (it’s up to you what kind of route you’d want to take with that) but anyways it’s just a suggestion because I was really interested once you brought the idea up of how Law would handle something he’s probably tried to block out of his mind since he was young

The post that anon is talking about for reference

Guess what Anon? This is literally the best ask I’ve ever gotten because I think about it ALL the time and all the possible outcomes of that one little thing and I will literally never shut up about it. So here’s some fun* ideas on how I think Law would respond to bringing a child into the world.

*these are not fun they're so angsty it's not even funny

Transmission

Characters: female reader x Law

Word Count: 1k

CW: talk of abortion, talk about loss of pregnancy, talk of fatal diseases, lots of pregnancy angst, (happy ending though if that makes up for it!)

He runs a scan and finds out he has a lot to worry about. You can see the panic on his face and you know your fear was not misplaced. You’re pregnant.

His shoulders suddenly feel so heavy. Like a weight he is forced to carry, no matter how many times he tries to cast it aside.

He doesn’t tell you about the burden. Not yet. You all talk through your options together, and you consider them heavily. You weigh the pros and cons of each option for days, but he doesn’t ever try to sway you one way or another.

In fact, he becomes very distant. He locks himself away in the study, turning through a new book everyday. You can enter his study whenever you wish, but he barely acknowledges your entrance.

One day you’re talking about it with him, trying to decide what to do. It had only been about a week and a half since you found out, and Law’s cold shoulder has impacted you a bit. “What do you want to do?” you ask him.

He doesn’t respond. His nose is buried in a book, and you realize he hasn’t been listening the entire time. You suddenly burst into tears, upset with him and his coldness to you recently. “Just get it out,” you cry, punching at your stomach with your fists. “Get it out of me so we can get back to normal again.”

He looks up, surprised by your sudden outburst. “Hey, Y/N-ya! Stop! You’re going to hurt yourself!” He jumps up and grabs your wrists to keep you from harming yourself further.

“I’m tired of being alone!” you cry out, tears streaming down your face. “You can’t even look at me anymore! I just want things to be normal again.”

He’s staring at you, unsure of what to do or how to respond. He guides you over to a chair, still holding your wrists, and sits you down in it. He sits across from you. “I need to tell you a story,” he whispers, and he has your full attention.

He tells you the story of Flevance, and of the Amber Lead Disease he inherited. How his entire city disappeared in a matter of years. How there was no cure. How he was the only survivor.

You had known a piece of that story. Law had told you about Corazon and that he had helped secure the Op-Op fruit for Law to find a cure for his disease. But you hadn’t known the rest of the tragedy.

“I’m scared,” he admits, his voice quivering. “Amber Lead Disease is passed down from generation to generation, and shortens the lifespan each time it’s passed on. My sister got sick when she was six. I was supposed to die before I was fourteen.”

“But you got better. You’re okay now,” you reassured him. But you could feel the panic growing inside of you now too. Of course he didn’t want to talk about a child with this kind of trauma weighing on his mind.

“It doesn’t mean that the symptoms are gone. Each generation, the life expectancies go down at least ten years. What if…” he hesitates, and you can feel his grip around your wrists tighten as he squeezes his eyes shut. “What if our child dies before it’s even born?”

You can feel his pain and his sorrow emitting from him. You lean forward and wrap him in a hug, holding him tight. You can hear him choke back a sob, and you allow yourself to cry too. Both of you just hold each other, letting all of your fear and anger and sorrow wash away with your tears.

Both of you start to calm down after a very long cry. “I want to keep it,” you say finally. “I want to try.”

You feel Law nod, and his body relaxes just a minuscule amount. At least he won’t be alone this time. At least he’s cured it before.

During the pregnancy, he’s more stressed than you. It’s a weird relationship having Law as both your boyfriend and your doctor, and sometimes you have to remind him which hat he’s wearing.

He’s always giving you vitamin supplements in the morning and making sure your diet is perfectly balanced. Sometimes you go to eat something and he starts with “as a pregnant woman, you shouldn’t-” but a quick glare will usually quiet him down.

You have checkups and he runs scans on your body at least once a week. There are nights he can’t sleep, his mind riddled with what if’s, and he has to do a quick scan just to make sure you and baby are still okay. He breathes a sigh of relief each time your scan comes back clean, but he doesn’t let himself get too comfortable.

Both of you have your days. Some days you’re over the moon, others you feel like your lives are ending. It’s a hard middle to find. Both of you typically stick to the extremes and manage to mellow each other out while also validating each other's fears.

He cries when he finds out it’s a girl.

He cries even harder when you offer up a name. Cora.

His devil fruit ability makes the childbirth thing insanely easy. The “pain of childbirth” was a foreign concept to you for the most part.

He counts Cora’s fingers and toes, and then counts them again. 10 fingers, 10 toes. She’s perfect. Just looking at her, Law already knows he would die for her.

He wraps his sweet baby girl up in a blanket and passes her off to you. He brushes your hair and kisses your face while you hold her. He’s resisting the urge to run every scan he can think of. You were adamant that the three of you needed a few minutes together as a family before he went full doctor on you both.

Finally you hand Cora off to him. “Go ahead, I know it’s driving you crazy.” He scans her, and finds her completely healthy. No Amber Lead Disease, no sickness, not even a slightly abnormal temperature. Law holds Cora close to his heart and he weeps. For his family, for himself, and for the new generation that’s finally free.

#this is the best possible outcome #i will not pain you all with the other possibilities because law has been hurt ENOUGH #one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #law x y/n #cozage #✧˚law✧˚

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epinebleue · 1 year

Text

love me now (m) | 02

(Gif credit)

in which you have to babysit your niece.

pairing: johnny suh x reader (female)

genre: established relationship!au, mature.

warnings: explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (reader’s on the pill), mention of post-partum depression.

chapter index

Ever since your sister gave birth, she hasn’t known rest.

Witnessing her go through pregnancy, labor, and postpartum depression had been simply heartbreaking. She’s living proof that motherhood is indeed difficult: the bags under her eyes are very telling.

So, when her husband asks you to babysit your niece to take her on a trip for her birthday, you accept right away.

On a Friday at seven in the morning, your sister gets in the guest room. She wakes you up, telling you they’re already leaving. You get up slowly, trying not to wake Johnny up. Luckily for you, he’s a heavy sleeper.

Your brother-in-law leaves their suitcases by the door as your sister hands you the keys to their house, teary-eyed.

“I can’t believe I’m abandoning my baby.”

“You’re not abandoning her. It’s just four days, she’ll be okay. You’re the one who needs attention and love right now.”

Your sister ends up nodding because she really needs some time away from dirty diapers and baby talk. You tightly hug them both and watch them leave, wishing for a safe trip and closing the main door once they disappear in the elevator at the end of the hallway.

You tiptoe back to your room, noticing that Johnny changed his position while you were gone. He’s lying on his stomach, hugging the pillow. It gives you a great view of his muscular back.

The gym is surely paying off.

You slip back in bed, and upon sensing movement, Johnny rolls over. Something in your stomach turns when you hear his raspy voice, his breath fanning your neck, giving you goosebumps.

“They left?”

He holds your waist to pull you in, satisfied once your back touches his bare, warm chest. You hum and nod, finding comfort in his embrace. You close your eyes, ready to drift away for a few more hours, or until your niece decides it’s been enough.

Your boyfriend, however, has other plans.

You snap your eyes open when Johnny presses his boner against your ass.

“Oh my God, Johnny!” You chuckle, slapping the hand that is trying to sneak inside your pajama pants. “There’s a baby in the next room.”

“Then keep it low.”

“Are you serious right now?”

“What?”

Johnny successfully shoves his hand inside your pants on the second try.

“You’re unbelievable.”

He collects your arousal, clicking his tongue at the feeling. You squirm against his body, knowing that his morning voice has affected you more than you care to admit.

“And I haven’t even touched you.”

You can’t see him, but you know there’s a smile on his face as he teases your entrance with his fingers.

“You’re in no position to make fun of me.” You protest, pushing your hips back out of the blue.

“At least I’m not trying to hide it.”

“Shut up.”

Johnny pushes a finger into you, making you hold your breath and close your eyes. He doesn’t wait long before adding a second one, pulling them in and out slowly. It makes you move against them, craving more.

You try hard to be quiet, biting your lower lip to stop yourself from moaning too loudly, but your boyfriend’s fingers are so long and they stretch you so deliciously, reaching all the right places. He rubs himself against your ass again, as if fucking you from behind.

It’s no surprise that you moan louder than you should, forcing Johnny to put his free hand over your mouth.

He shushes you, his lips brushing your ear, voice so deep and low that he has you clenching around his fingers. “We don’t want to wake the baby.”

You’re a few pumps away from your orgasm, and judging by how Johnny moves his hips, he’s close as well. Something inside you tells you that you should be ashamed of coming so fast, but honestly, who cares? Finishing soon simply probes how skilled Johnny is, and how good he makes you feel.

But Johnny loves edging, so he pulls out his fingers last second. A protest dies in your throat the moment you feel him take off his clothes, ordering you to do the same. Of course, you comply immediately.

Your boyfriend gets on top of you, supporting his weight with his forearms to avoid crashing you. You kiss him desperately, lifting your hips, craving to be full again. And he seems to take the hint, grabbing his length and teasing your entrance before pushing into you.

Your arms find their way around his neck to bring him down and kiss him again as he moves, slowly. There’s something addictive in Johnny’s lips. They’re so soft, so warm. You could spend the rest of your lifetime kissing them.

You move your hips along the rhythm Johnny sets, feeling him go further. He muffles your moans with his mouth, swallowing each one of them.

Having been so close before, you know you won’t last long as your walls tighten around his length again. Hopefully, he won’t stop this time.

The pace quickens as Johnny fucks you into the mattress. You’re seconds away from your so-longed-for orgasm, the familiar knot in your stomach about to burst.

And then, you hear a cry in the distance.

Johnny pulls out in the blink of an eye, leaving an uncomfortable emptiness behind. Your high dissipates as you whine and lift the sheets, putting on your underwear and pants to run towards your niece’s bedroom.

Thick tears are falling down her chubby cheeks as she grips the edge of the cradle, her hair messy. Her hands go up the moment you appear, begging you to pick her up. You press her close to your chest, bouncing her little body and patting her back softly, comforting her.

You grab the plush red dragon that you bought when she was born from the toy trunk., shaking it in front of her face in hopes that it’ll make her stop crying. It works, so you give her the toy and walk back to the room, passing by the bathroom on the way, where Johnny’s washing his hands.

“She must be hungry.” You sit on the bed, sitting your niece in the center of the mattress. She plays with the toy, tears already gone, and makes a sound when Johnny enters the room. When he sits on the edge of the bed, she crawls on all fours in his direction. Johnny opens his arms and holds her when she gets to him.

Your niece loves Johnny, all children do; he’s like a kid magnet. You can’t help but think how an amazing father Johnny would be while you watch them play together. And how hot he looks when around kids.

Your maternal instinct has you drooling over him.

“Can you stop eating me with your eyes?” He says, a cocky smile on his face, holding the baby’s hands as she stands.

“I’m sorry.” There’s no sign of regret in your voice, though. “But you look really sexy right now.”

“Chill, woman. There’s a baby right here.”

“You didn’t care about that five minutes ago.”

Johnny’s too invested in playing with your niece to even think of a proper comeback, so you decide it’s time for breakfast. Johnny follows you to the kitchen, carrying your niece in his arms, giggling as he rubs his nose against hers.

Taking a look at the cabinets, you decide to make some coffee and toast. You set the coffee pot on the ceramic hob and wait for the water to boil.

In the meantime, you prepare some formula for your niece. You’ve seen your sister do it several times, so it comes out naturally. Johnny has sat your niece on her highchair, by his side. You give her the bottle, and she immediately shoves the nipple in her mouth, sucking.

Johnny looks at her in awe, caressing her soft hair.

“She’s so cute.” He says, speaking in a baby voice.

“I’m jealous.” You pout. “What about me?”

Johnny shrugs. “You’re okay, I guess.”

Johnny lets out a loud laugh at your open mouth. You turn around, deeply offended, but he grabs your wrist and pulls you closer to him. You try to fight him, even though you know that Johnny is stronger than you are. Your niece observes everything from her seat, drinking her milk, unbothered.

You spend the rest of the morning watching TV, playing with the baby, and Facetiming your sister.

Johnny will prepare lunch as you feed the baby. Your sister has told you what she has to eat, so you pick up a jar of baby food from the cupboard beside the fridge. Johnny notices your face of utter disgust, and it makes him laugh.

“What?”

“This looks awful, what the fuck?” A wave of guilt washes over your body. “How can this mashed green thing possibly taste good?”

You open it to smell it for a second before pulling it away, faking a gag.

“You’re so dramatic. I bet it’s not that bad.” Johnny takes the jar from you and copies your actions. He doesn’t gag, but by the way he frowns, you can tell that he thinks the same. “Right, I'll take it back.”

“I wonder what it tastes like.”

“Try it.” Johnny grabs a spoon and sinks the tip into the jar.

You shake your head, taking a step back when he approaches you, spoon up.

“Absolutely not.”

“I’ll give you twenty bucks if you eat this.”

You laugh, half in disbelief, half in distress. “Are you trying to blackmail me for real?”

“Thirty.”

“John!”

“Come on, don’t be a coward.”

Johnny insists, bringing the spoon closer to your face, which you try to block with your hands.

“I’ll fucking fight you, Johnny, I swear!”

“I’d love to see you try.”

You open your mouth, about to defend yourself, and Johnny takes advantage of it to shove the spoon in your mouth. He runs away, laughing at how your face twists in disgust.

How can your sister feed this to her daughter? How can your niece like it?

Johnny leaves the jar and the spoon on the kitchen countertop the moment you prepare to pounce on him.

“You’re a dead man.”

There’s a struggle as Johnny tries to stop you from twisting your nipples. The kitchen is filled with your niece’s giggles, who witnesses the scene from her highchair, shaking her baby teether.

In the afternoon, you go for a walk in the park. On your way, you stop to take pictures of every single tree you see, Johnny patiently waiting for you a few steps away, holding the handles of the baby’s cart.

Autumn has painted New York red, orange, and yellow; it has covered the streets with crunchy leaves, making it feel as if you were inside a rom-com.

Johnny has a blast playing with your niece, looking at her with adoring eyes. You lose count of how many pictures and videos you take of them.

Sitting on a park bench, observing them while you sip on your warm coffee, you realize that Johnny’s definitely the one. You’ve thought of it in the years you’ve been together, but you have never been so sure of it.

Better said, you’ve never been so sure of anything in your life.

The baby is in her crib now, sleeping soundly. With your fingers, you softly caress her cheek. Johnny joins you, hugging you from behind. He kisses the top of your head, and you melt in his arms, resting the back of your head against his chest.

“Look at her little hands.” You whisper, careful not to wake her up. “She’s adorable.”

“I know.”

“Have you ever thought about having kids?”

Johnny sighs deeply before answering, placing his chin on top of your head.

“The idea has crossed my mind, yeah.”

“With me, maybe?”

“You doubted it?” You don’t answer, knowing that Johnny has understood exactly what you meant with that question. Will you love me long enough to have my children? “I even have names in mind.”

His confession makes you turn around, the biggest smile on your face. You swallow the lump in your throat, aware that it would be weird if you started crying then and there.

“Really?” Johnny nods, his arms still around you, holding you close.

“Yeah.” He gives you a short, sweet kiss. “I’ll tell you when the time comes.”

You glance at your niece for the last time before leaving the room. You put your pajamas on and lie in bed. Your body, wasted from the tiring day, welcomes the warm feeling that being under the covers on a cold day gives.

You snuggle by Johnny’s side, his strong arm rounding you. His heartbeat sounds like a lullaby.

“Sleep well, love.”

Johnny kisses your forehead. In return, you smirk.

“Good night, daddy.”

“Don’t.”

No reposting or translations allowed.

#johnny smut #nct johnny #nct johnny smut #nct smut #nct fic #johnny suh smut #johnny suh fic #nct johnny fic #johnny imagine #johnny suh #nct fic smut

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blushsani · 5 months

Text

sincerity | c.s

⋆ choi san x fem reader ⋆ wc : 2.1k ⋆ genre : hurt/comfort, light angst, fluff ⋆ warnings : slight drinking ⋆ synopsis : when mistakes are made, a way to make things right needs to be found. ⋆ notes : hi!! this is my first post on here and i am very very veeery excited! pls do enjoy ૮ >ﻌ< ა / i would like to mention that it’s not exactly mentioned in this what exactly happened between them. the backstory is just something you can decide on as a reader (if you would like to). again, pls enjoy! <3

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"sani."

you have no idea where you plan to start as you call out to the man in front of you. your words pass your lips in a firm tone, yet somehow breathless at the same time. a mixture you can’t exactly remember ever speaking in.

it’s moments like these where you wish you had the ability to go back in time.

if you could, you know the first moment you’d return to would be the afternoon you and san shared a day or two before all this began. your head against san’s chest, san’s arms embracing you with more warmth than ever before, your mind listening to each and every one of san’s heartbeats, san’s cheek against the top of your head. the calm before the storm.

at the sound of your voice, san turns around from the chair he’s sat on in surprise. at the sound of the nickname, san simultaneously softens in the click of a finger.

was he expecting to see you soon? of course.

was he expecting to see you tonight? most definitely not.

for a second, he isn’t even sure how you got in. maybe he drank more than he thought.

but the sight of you already makes his heart beat quicker and you you you and strictly you is the only thing on his mind.

it feels like a lifetime since he’s last seen you. seen your face. don’t even get him started on the last time he got to hold you.

he tried so hard to the last time he saw you. san remembers the café you told him to meet you in through a text message. he had never been there before and briefly wondered if the creamy white and beige building was new to the city. the lack of customers could have been a sign he was correct.

you take a few steps closer into the apartment, closer to the seating area he situated himself in. san notices where your gaze is directed and suddenly feels embarrassed.

you must think he’s pathetic, san thinks to himself as it immediately clicks that you’re looking at the bottle of whiskey on the table situated in front of him. he too turns his head to look at the bottle of whiskey and opens his mouth to say god knows what but you were seconds quicker than him.

“we should talk,” you pause for a moment, “can we?”

god he missed you. he never thought he’d ever be in a situation where he’d have to miss you this much.

“please.” it was only until san spoke that he realised how desperate he sounded. he was ready to drop to his knees in a heartbeat.

you take a sharp inhale at the sound of his voice. he sounded almost longing, you’re taken aback. but you take no more time to nod your head in the direction of the white loveseat positioned opposite of san, silently gesturing if you can sit there. he nods in response.

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“i’ve missed you,” there’s a short pause, “ i’ve really missed you.”

there’s a deep fluttering in your stomach before san even finishes speaking. your first thought is to ignore him, and you do for a moment as you place your glass back down on the table. but then your second thought is going in a completely different direction, and you allow yourself to give in.

fuck it.

“i’ve missed you too.” you admit.

silence fills the air and becomes more and more deafening as each second goes by.

you raise your gaze, looking up at him as you press your hands together slightly tighter.

“i’ve been waiting to hear you say that for so fucking long.” san says with a vaguely trembling voice and eyes slowly, gradually bubbling with tears.

he hasn’t been able to stop missing you, thinking of you. hell, he was even starting to dream of you.

you were just everything to him. he was building so much with you and it began to feel like there was a physical, glowing light between you and him that was signifying how special the direction the pair of you were going in was. the bond you both shared resembled a thick tied rope that became firmer and tougher with every single pull.

it was the best thing san had experienced. you were the best thing san had experienced.

“can’t sleep properly. i can’t sleep properly all because of you san.” he could start sobbing. he could throw himself into your arms if you’ll have him.

his eyes flutter as he tries not to cry. he tries so very hard.

“what am i meant to do? what am i meant to do when all i can think of is you every single minute i spend breathing?” you start speaking and can’t seem to stop as more words pass through your lips. it’s almost like–no, it is–like you’re not in control of your mind.

the man before you is no different either. his mind turns slightly frantic and it’s just you–it’s all you–he needs you.

san’s moving before he can even think.

you could envision a string in between where you and san were seated. a thin string that was ready to break in half any second. and this was the exact moment where that string finally snapped. harshly.

within seconds, san has sat himself right beside you and has brought you into his arms. you can feel him gently scrooping you up and tucking your head into his chest, carefully digging his chin into the top of your head.

all the emotions catch up with you as the tears begin to trickle down to your cheeks.

there had been many hours of you scrolling through your messages with san, hours of you scrolling through your photos with san.

the amount of times you ended up daydreaming about san throughout your days.

the amount of times you were closer and closer to ending up on san’s front door.

the amount of nights you spent in bed just thinking about your san and thinking about how he should be beside you as you laid in bed, trying to seek sleep.

there was so much of you and your mind that missed san. you found it a challenge to fathom how much his presence made an impact on you and made you feel so at peace; you never were able to imagine any person coming into this life of yours and changing it this much.

but there was also so much of you that felt so much anger.

you were frustrated. you were so frustrated with san.

in those mixture of emotions that crept up on you, it was that deep frustration that seemed to come to a rise first.

a pitiful hit to san’s chest was the first way that anger presented itself. and then another hit. and then a third one. and then another weaker than the last.

suddenly, you could faintly feel your hands being grabbed by the wrist and situated around san’s middle instead. the movement left you positioned even deeper into san’s chest and embrace, you realise. at the touch, you shift your head to look up at san, cheek lightly rubbing against his white shirt. it takes no more than a couple seconds for san to pull himself away enough so that he can look down at you, and the sudden eye contact catches you off guard completely.

one thing you just couldn’t miss was the unwavering look in san’s eyes, regardless of how taken aback you ended up in the very moment or regardless of all the bitterness that had been taking over you the past few weeks.

there was so much love you could spot with ease in those eyes, and as more and more seconds continued to go by simply filled with you and san just unable to look anywhere else from one another, it began to feel overwhelming. almost like you were drowning. drowning in those brown eyes that looked back at you as if you had created the world by scratch.

you didn’t know it was possible for someone to hold this much visible love in their eyes, and you don’t know if or when you’ll ever be able to understand that the receiver of all this love is you.

in that very moment, all that can roll from your tongue is his name.

“san…”

in that very moment, all you can do is fall weak and find every way possible to bury yourself closer to him.

“sani.”

“i’m here baby, i’m right here. i love you–i love you so much.” san takes your cheeks in the palm of his hands, ever so lightly cupping both sides of your face.

“sani i’ve missed you,” you hiccup through a soft cry, “i just can’t–i love you san–”

you don’t even realise you’ve cut yourself off as another cry bubbles up within you.

however, one thing you do realise is that the place san holds in that heart of yours is bigger and greater than you could have ever imagined. you’re kidding yourself if you genuinely - from the bottom of your heart - believe you can live a life that has san erased from it. that’s not a life you can imagine settling in, that’s not a life you’d like to settle in, and that’s a life you refuse to settle in as long as you can control it.

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san adjusts himself, shuffling as he sits on his knees in front of you. he takes a second to widen the opening of the fluffy sock before aligning your foot with the socks’ entrance. with every movement he makes, he’s gentle. you’ve almost had to ask yourself whether or not you’re in fact a piece of something fragile like glass, because you’d think you were with how tender he is every time he’s with you. it’s apart of the already lengthy list of every single reason you love this man.

he rolls the cuff of your sock over once before giving the piece of material a move around on your foot, ensuring to adjust it so that its most comfortable.

he raises his head, gaze raising with him.

“comfortable?” he asks, taking his time as he stands.

“very. thank you.” you reply with a soft tone.

it was clear as day how sleepy you were, especially after the shower you took with san, but with that sleepiness gazing over you more and more, you were growing even more increasingly content and comfortable with every second that passed.

you could feel a buzz lingering lightly. it made your mind feel fuzzy, and all you could think about was the man standing right in front of you.

you can't remember ever feeling this secure before.

perhaps out of instinct, you reach your arms out, signalling for him to hold your hands. your signal works, and his hands are all wrapped in yours within the blink of an eye.

there was undeniably an elephant in the room. conversations that weren’t yet vocalised need to be had and there’s a mutual understanding of that.

you look into san’s eyes, a soft smile painted over your lips and while it remained just as genuine as it first appeared, it was not as bright as before. the look you find in san’s eyes as he keeps his gaze set on you shows you that there’s a lot he wants to say, and san must decide that it’s time to start saying what’s on his mind because–

“y/n i don’t–”, san seems to take a moment to think about his next words as he situates himself beside you on the bed, his hands still in yours, “i want you to know that i love you. and i want you to know that…i know there’s a lot that needs to be said and a lot that you deserve to hear and a lot i need to show you. i don’t want you to think i’m just ignoring this. please…baby please know that.”

there’s a short silence that follows, filled with you and san holding eye contact. you see so much sincerity in his eyes, it pours from him.

no words were shared; it wasn’t necessary. you nod, silently thanking san before leaning forward and wrapping your arms around his frame, hugging him.

it’s so easy for you to melt against him.

all it takes is the feeling of san’s hand rubbing against the small of your back for you to know everything is going to be okay.

you and san are going to be okay.

#𐙚 — blushsani #qeiwrites !#choi san #choi san fanfic #ateez fanfic #ateez san #ateez san fanfic #choi san fluff #ateez choi san #ateez x reader #ateez oneshot #choi san angst #ateez san x reader

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forwhump · 1 month

Text

a/n; I’m sorry I keep posting 😭😭😭 remember when I hated it more than anything ?? now I can’t stop

I actually have a list of requests now (!!!!! 🥹 !!!!!!) & I swear I cross my heart I pinky promise if you asked me for something I WILL post for you !!! if you were kind enough to request smth from me I’ll actually write & post anything you want forever just not chronologically in any form at all, that’s all LOL

I found this first when I was perusing the wren folder so that’s why this one is up but NEXT TIME, next time it will be softer & there will be caretaking I promise

just a little bit of wren’s first night in the district first, that’s all <3 (spoilers : it’s horrible) @ doughnut this one’s for you 😚

tw/cw: kidnapping, captivity, rape, noncon, humiliation, psychological torture, sexual torture, misgendering, transphobia

sexual servant whumpee, creepy whumper

There are a glorious few moments, when Wren first opens his eyes, that he isn’t scared.

He’s in pain — the pain starts before consciousness does. But he isn’t scared. It’s a small mercy.

Instead, he wakes to that pain. Groggy, it’s hard to tell exactly what hurts, a sort of fog much the same as trying to wake from unconsciousness. As he wakes, as the fog of sleep clears, the pain settles and Wren couldn’t tell exactly what was hurting because everything hurts. He groans, and even his jaw hurts. He tries to groan, anyway, but the sound is muffled because he’s gagged, a strip of cloth pulled tight and knotted at the back of his head.

For a second, for a split second, Wren doesn’t really think about it. Still barely conscious, he barely considers the gag, and thinks, instead, of the knot at the back of his head. He can feel where it’s tangled in his hair, tugging at his scalp with each exhale. He’s face down, and as he blinks his eyes open, he doesn’t really notice the concrete, but the sheet of his hair.

Wren doesn’t wear his hair down. Wren hasn’t worn his hair down since he was a very small child, a child beauty pageant queen, and his mother would spend hours brushing and oiling and meticulously braiding it for him. He doesn’t think he’s had a haircut since only a few years after that. By the time he was old enough to decide for himself what to do with his hair, he was proud of it. He has great hair. But he also has really long hair, and it’s a pain in the ass. Really impractical, at times.

This is what Wren thinks about. He doesn’t wear his hair down. Why is his hair down? It’s pooling on the concrete around him, and why would he have —

The concrete?

Everything hurts.

Wren’s gagged.

That’s when he gets scared.

It’s the most scared he’s ever been in his life.

Wren’s been scared before. He would be lying through his teeth if he said he hadn’t. He’s never been scared like this. He’s never felt anything like this.

It’s an infection, a parasite that burrows deep into his chest, into his core, and it spreads through him quickly, churning through his bloodstream, just under his skin. He’s shivering, and he doesn’t notice, not right away, that it isn’t only because he’s scared. It’s only when he rolls onto his back that he realizes just how cold it is, so cold his breath clouds the air above him. His hands are tied behind his back, and he traps them against the ground beneath him as he rolls over. It’s why his arms, his wrists, his hands, his shoulders ache — his hands are tied so tightly at his back his fingertips are buzzing with static.

There’s only a single light in the ceiling above him, something fluorescent. Its glow is orange and its flicker, irregular, buzzing with shorted electricity. Something starts to burn low in Wren’s stomach, and the contrast to the cold in here and in his bloodstream is enough to make him gag.

The room is empty, except for him and that fluorescent bulb. It’s concrete on all sides, an empty concrete cell, and the only door is an iron slat carved out of one wall, the bolted, armed doors of a military hanger.

Wren can taste his heartbeat. His hair is down. What the fuck is —

And he can still barely keep his eyes open. Blinking slowly, he braces his hands behind himself and manages to push himself up from the floor, not far but far enough that he can lean heavily against the wall across from that door. His skirt is flouncy, red and white gingham layered with tulle, and it settles in a fan across his lap as he sits up. His eyes close on their own, too heavy to be —

They fly open again just as quickly. His skirt?

No, it’s —

No, he’s not wearing a skirt. It’s a dress, and only then just barely. It’s short, and it’s so tight around Wren’s waist that it hurts, and it hurts a little worse each time he breathes. It’s a child’s dress, and something about that makes Wren more uneasy than anything else. He tries to swallow, and it makes him sob.

He’s wearing cowboy boots. They aren’t his boots.

What the fuck is going on?

It’s so fucking cold.

Wren tries to stand, leaning his weight against the wall, but his legs are shaking too badly and they give out from under him. He falls hard. This time, it has nothing to do with the cold.

He tries to take a deep breath and it catches on something in his throat, something that makes him sob. He isn’t sure when he started crying, but his tears are cool on his face.

What the fuck is going on?

He isn’t so fortunate that he has to wonder for long. Huddled against the wall, shaking so hard he might be pulling himself apart at the seams, Wren cries. He tries to stand, to pull his hands free, to make any sense of his surroundings, and he can’t, and he cries. For a time, the only sounds are the hoarse, panicked hitching of his sobs and the constant, droning hum of the fluorescent bulb above him.

It starts with a chirp, with a weird, technical sort of beep. Wren doesn’t even get the illusion of relief, of somebody coming to his rescue — something is really, really wrong. What’s going on? There’s another beep, then a series of more beeps, and then a sound, through the door, like muffled thunder.

Wren’s heart beats at the back of his throat.

When the door opens, it opens slowly. A man fills the doorway, and he makes Wren’s blood run cold. He looks like something from a nightmare, something so horrible Wren can’t even really fathom him. He doesn’t look real. He can’t be. All black, a monster, the shadow of a monster, except for the cowboy hat, perched low on his head.

For a second, for a naive, blissful second, Wren doesn’t recognize him. He doesn’t recognize the dreadful black uniform or the macabre silhouette. He doesn’t remember how limp Robin had been.

Beneath his cowboy hat, he’s wearing a mask. It’s just as dreadful as the rest of his uniform, but when he pulls it down, it’s so much worse.

He knocks the wide brim of his hat up, out of the way, grinning down at Wren. Looking up at him, into his face, at his eyes, it’s like looking into the eyes of a violent animal. There’s nothing human in his eyes. Wren recognizes those eyes.

He lurches without meaning to, pressing himself a little harder into the wall.

There’s an intensity in the way he watches Wren that makes Wren’s stomach bubble, acidic. He grins a little wider, and something in the way it pulls at his face is grotesque. Unnatural. He doesn’t have a human smile, either. “Why, good mornin’, sugar,” he says, and he says it with an equally unnatural twang. Is he mocking him? The dress, and the hat, it’s — “I’ve been waitin’ on you.”

So, this —

This can’t really be happening, right? It isn’t. This is — what is this? What’s — who is this? What is he — gingham. This is — gingham. Why is Wren wearing gingham? What the fuck is happening? This can’t be happening.

The train of thought must show on his face and the soldier doesn’t try to hide how much he loves it. His grin stretches. The way he angles his head is predatory. Something in Wren’s chest gets very, very tight. “Why, shucks,” he mocks. “You’re awful pretty when you’re scared, girl.”

Heat spreads beneath Wren’s face and trickles down the back of his neck. When the soldier takes a step closer, he flinches back against the wall again. He doesn’t mean to. His hands are shaking at his back, trapped against concrete so cold his fingers are starting to numb with it.

There’s an even colder, unfiltered terror in the way his grin is fixed to his face, in the way he isn’t looking at Wren, not really, but at the hemline of the dress. Gingham. He stalks towards him like a predator, and he crouches down in front of him, too close.

He’s big. He’s massive, in fact. Wren’s never been a particularly big guy, but this guy would tower over even Robin, all six feet and three some odd inches of him. His shoulders are probably double the width of Wren’s own. When he crouches in front of Wren, he blocks the light with the bulk of him, and tears blur his silhouette.

When he speaks again, he speaks without twang, but with a smug, probably militant sort of confidence that makes Wren shiver, try as he might to help it, try as he might not to let this man see. “My men call me Point,” he says, and there’s something almost condescending in how he says it. “You will not. You will not speak unless you’re spoken to. If you must refer to me, you will refer to me as daddy. If you disobey, you’ll be punished, cowgirl, and I won’t take it easy on you. I don’t care how purty you are,” and he puts the accent back on. “Y’understand?”

Wren can’t breathe. His chest is too tight. The lump in his throat is too big. The soldier — Point? — looks like he’s expecting an answer, and Wren doesn’t have one. He can’t breathe. Against the wall, he shakes his head.

“No?” Point asks, sickly sweet.

For such a big guy, he’s fast. He grabs Wren by the face, so fast Wren can’t do anything to stop it. He cracks his head back against the wall behind him so hard that for a moment, Wren loses consciousness again.

It’s a glorious moment, but it’s only a moment. When he blinks his eyes open again, Point is leaning in, leaning too close, and the back of Wren’s head is wet. Warm.

“You will behave,” Point warns, and the accent is gone, replaced by something lethal, unamused. “You will do exactly as I tell you, cowgirl, or I will hurt you very, very badly.” Wren makes a soft, involuntary sound, and that grin flickers back to life on Point’s face, a thousand watts. “I took a big risk taking you out of there, girl. You were supposed to be put down. You owe your life to me, and I’m not about to let you get away without paying your debt.” He lifts the cowboy hat from his head, placing it on Wren’s. Wren shivers, trying to shake it off, and the soldier moves again, that same sort of movement, too quick for the human eye. He grabs Wren by the throat and pins him back against the wall. “Behave.” He thumbs slowly along the underside of Wren’s jaw as he holds him there, and the way Wren’s skin crawls almost aches. His fingertip catches on the gag. “Now I’m going to take this out,” he explains, “because I want to hear you beg. But if you wanna scream, cowgirl, you can go right ahead. Y’know why?”

Wren doesn’t want to know. He tries to sob, and it gets stuck beneath Point’s hand.

Point, who angles his head and whistles.

The door swings open again barely a full second later, and it’s still more than enough time for the fear to build, and build, and build, and burst into something that Wren shudders with, so hard his ribs rattles against each other. Another soldier fills the doorframe, another macabre silhouette. Another follows it, then another still, shadows that crowd the dim concrete cell, an army that filters into the room, blocking out the light.

Point grins at him. “Because the only men that will hear you,” he explains, for good measure, “are my men, and they want to hear you scream. The only men that will hear you are my men, and they’re just waiting for me to be done so they can have their turn with you. I’m not usually much for sharing,” he adds, finally sliding the cloth from Wren’s mouth, “but we’ve never been allowed a plaything down here. It would be cruel not to let them have my sloppy seconds.”

Cold seeps through Wren’s skin and forms crystal in his bloodstream, a cold that aches from the inside. “Please,” he blurts, and it’s weird the way the words come, not from his brain but from the festering, infected panic in his chest. “Please, don’t, don’t —”

But Point only grins, leaning in so close Wren can feel his breath. “I knew it,” he says, sickly sweet, laying the accent on thick. “You’re prettiest when you beg, cowgirl.”

“What?” Wren breathes, and he’s dizzy. He doesn’t think it has anything to do with hitting his head. “Please, I —”

He’s interrupted by a groan so low Wren can feel the rumble of it in his bones. His mouth tastes like bile and his own heartbeat. “That’s it,” Point coos softly. “There’s a good girl.”

Wren’s breath hitches, caught somewhere high in his chest. He doesn’t mean to, but he whimpers around it and Point makes another, lower sound, so low the hair on the back of Wren’s neck stands up. He leans away, only far enough to peel off one of his gloves with his teeth. Bared, he flexes his fingers, and something serpentine beats around the inside of Wren’s stomach. “Please,” he breathes, and one of the other men audibly snorts. Wren isn’t even sure why, but it makes him sob. His hands are curled into fists so tight the bones in knuckles are grinding together. “Please,” he whispers, and Point slides a hand beneath his skirt, warm against the inside of his thigh.

Wren reacts with his entire body. He jerks away so hard he knocks his own head, still bleeding, back into the wall. Point, for such a big guy, is fast, he’s too fast, and he has his other hand curled around Wren’s thigh before Wren sees him move. He makes this embarrassing, hiccuping sort of sound, trying to shake him off, to push him away, but Point, without sweat or struggle, pulls him away from the wall by his leg, onto his back on the concrete. As he pushes Wren’s thigh up towards his chest, he coos softly. “Good girl.”

Wren doesn’t even get the chance to plead again. Point leans in close, too close, cheek to Wren’s cheek, and forces three of his fingers inside him with a groan like a man dying.

Wren doesn’t scream. Wren doesn’t do anything, actually. He freezes, so tense he can feel the ache in every one of his bones. His mind blanks, a whiteness, a sort of emptiness he’s never experienced before. It’s like everything stops, all at once, narrows to Point’s fingers and the pain he pushes inside Wren and the rumble of his approval against his chest.

“Stop,” he hears himself say, from somewhere outside himself, from somewhere really far away. “Please.”

Point coos at him again. “Oh, cowgirl,” he says. “We’re just getting started.”

When he does ease out his fingers, it’s to push up his dress, the gingham and the tulle, shoving it up and around Wren’s waist. Panic surges and it tastes like bile. He doesn’t think, not really, not coherently, he only panics, and he tries to kick and Point catches him with a vice grip around his ankle. He hauls Wren closer and the concrete is so cold against his bare skin.

“No,” Wren says, and his voice isn’t his own, too breathless, too loud, too high. “No, please, please, don’t —”

Wren would dare say he’s a strong guy — he’s a lot stronger than he thinks he looks like he would be, at least. He’s no match for Point. Not at all.

And it’s strange, almost, or it would be, anyway, if Wren had the capacity to ponder the strangeness of it. He was already scared, a suffocating, delirious sort of scared, a kind of scared he didn’t think would be possible. And still, somehow, Point forces his thighs apart, and Wren can’t stop him, he can’t fight him, he can’t struggle, he can’t do anything Point doesn’t want him to do, helpless, and it’s like Wren hadn’t been scared at all. It’s like Wren, until that moment, didn’t know what it meant to be scared.

Something new rises, crests, and crushes him. He can’t breathe under its weight. He does scream, then, and he doesn’t recognize the sound of his own voice.

Point grins widely. He isn’t looking at Wren’s face. He holds his thighs apart and kneels between them.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. How is this happening?

“Please,” Wren gasps, this hitching, horrible thing, “please.”

Point shifts, pinning Wren to the ground with his weight. Whatever his uniform is made out of, it feels like gravel against his skin. He moves slowly, taunting, as he pulls his belt loose, as he pulls himself free from his pants.

Wren isn’t breathing, not even hyperventilating, just making these hitching, gasping sort of sounds he can’t control. There are so many men in here with him, crowding this concrete cell, and none of them help him. There are so many men in here with him and they all just watch him beg. There are so many men in here with him and Wren has never been so alone, not once in his life.

He wants his big brother. He wants his mom. He wants to go home.

“Please,” he cries, desperate, frantic, almost a wail, most of a scream. “Please, pleasepleasepleaseple—”

Wren, in the end, screams himself hoarse.

It doesn’t fucking matter.

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