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exitingmusic · 2 days ago

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Still Yours? (Suguru x Reader)

Warnings: slight yandere, no smut, angst, depression, slight self-harm/ suicidal thoughts, good ending

A/N: lot similar to my Caleb fic but too damn bad its my own work so I can plagiarize myself, enjoy + REQS OPEN

WC: 8.7k

Tensions were high. It had been almost 2 weeks since you had been trapped with Suguru, locked away with no contact from the outside world. He had captured you not long before and when you didn’t cooperate, he took matters into his own hands.

Now, today, he’d be going to visit his cult. After 2 weeks of not seeing their leader, he figured there might be a few questions at least. It was just a simple visit, only to placate his mindless followers.

He approaches you, a tight smile on his face as he takes your hand. “I’m about to leave, it’d be nice if we could have a meal together.”

You yank your hand away, snapping, “So I have to listen to you even when it comes to eating and drinking now?”

Hurt crosses his expression as you turn on your heel, heading for the living room. He follows you, standing in front of you as you sit on the couch and scowl up at him.

“Your life has threats around every corner. The people who are after you, who want to hurt you, they should all just disappear.” Leaning forward, he presses his hand against the cushion beside your head. “You’re only safe when you’re by my side.”

A gentle smile tugs at his lips, the soft feeling not reaching his cold eyes. It falls quickly though when you respond, “I’d rather face danger head on than live ‘safely’ like this! I don’t need you—“

“You don’t need me? Is that what you think?” he says, cutting you off with a disbelieving laugh. Leaning forward, he grabs one of your wrists. “Alright. What do you need? You can tell me. We can return to Kyoto if that’s what you want. If you want to return to the past, we can find a house and live together.”

His voice turns pleading as he continues, “I’ll decorate it with everything you could ever want, it will have the most beautiful, stunning gardens you’ve ever seen. No threat will ever be able to find you again. I’ll protect you forever.” His words are soft, his eyes so familiar and yet so wrong, somehow. A slight smile curves his mouth, so normal and yet different that it makes your heart ache.

“Suguru, I lived this long without you, I can take care of myself. I don’t want to be a bird locked in a cage, even if it is with you,” you pleaded, carefully watching his every reaction.

He lets out a frustrated sigh and closes his eyes, clearly struggling to remain calm and not snap. He rubs the bridge of his nose and takes a few deep breaths, trying to steady himself as he opens his eyes again to look at you.

“You think I care about your freedom or free will right now? The only thing I care about is protecting you. The rest doesn’t matter.” He runs a hand through his dark hair and paces away from you, his expression conflicted. “Why do you even want that freedom when you could have safety here, with me?”

“Am I just supposed to stay here, acting happy all my life? Surrounded by the same walls? The same things? Never see or talk to anyone else?” You continued, your voice raising, “because I can't do that Suguru, no matter how safe I'd be. I couldn’t stand it.”

His jaw is clenched tight, the anger in his words barely contained. He turns and takes a step forward, his hand reaching out to grab your arm and pull you up from the couch. “I don’t give a damn how ‘happy’ you are, or if you feel ‘trapped’. I just. Need. You. Safe.” His hand tightens on your arm as he presses close to you, every line of his body tense at the argument.

“It doesn’t matter if I lock you up or keep you under my watch,” he says, his gaze pinning yours as he growls, “As long as you’re safe, nothing else matters,” he mutters, releasing your arm, but still standing close enough to tower over you, his violet gaze locked on yours. “Why can’t you understand I’m doing this because I love you? I can’t let anything happen to you, no matter the cost.”

You didn’t recognize this man in front of you, eyes hard and cold, determined to clip your wings and trap you in this gilded cage. You weren’t angry at him, no, it just hurt seeing the boy you loved so dearly so detached and uncaring, towards you no less.

Anger fading, you look at him with saddened eyes, “You're not my Suguru.”

He freezes, staring at you, looking like you stabbed him in the chest before his expression hardens again, the air growing tense as he says, “What are you talking about?”

His hand gently grabs your chin, tilting your head up so he can search your expression as he says, “Of course I’m the same Suguru, your Suguru. The one who’s been here, protecting you, worrying for you, and who loves you. Who else could I be?”

“My Suguru wouldn't have done this. He would've happily followed me to the ends of the universe to keep me safe and happy. He wouldn't lock me away…” you said defiantly, raising your chin.

He releases your chin and steps back, something cold hardening in his expression. “Your Suguru, huh? He sounds like a spineless, love sick idiot who’s willing to risk your life for you to be happy.”

He begins to pace in front of you, his expression turning bitter as he says, “You think he would’ve preferred letting you run around, putting yourself in danger, all because of what?! Your happiness?”

“But I loved that Suguru, I still do. I couldn't give a shit if he was a spineless, love sick idiot. He was my Suguru and I'd have him no other way,” you say loyally, your voice quiet but unwavering. “I loved walking around the city with him, I loved going to cheap convenience stores with him, I loved staying up late with him, talking about every subject possible.”

He freezes, something painful flashing across his expression before he quickly turns from you. One of his hands clenches into a fist as he snaps, “Well that Suguru is dead and gone.” He’s stiff, his shoulders are tense, a muscle in his jaw moving as he stands silently.

Even though he’s turned away from him, your face doesn’t hide your disappointment, “Clearly,” you mutter, loud enough for him to hear. You can’t help the sliver of satisfaction that you feel as he clenches his jaw, teeth gritting.

“So why do you keep talking about him? He’s dead, and everything you want doesn’t matter anymore.” He turns and walks towards you, standing just in front of you with a bitter, cold expression. His voice is fragile as he asks you, “Why can’t you stop talking about him and see me?”

You hold no anger, only pity for him, “Because you’re trying to force me to see you, to choose you over everything else in my life. You’re making yourself the bad guy.”

He laughs, but it’s bitter and harsh. “The bad guy? Is that what you think I am?”

‘Suguru’ cups a hand on your chin, gently forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes are hard, no trace of the soft, loving you used to know.

“Let me tell you what I think, sweetheart. I think your judgement is clouded by sentiment. Your idea of who your old Suguru is has blinded you, your idea for who I should be.”

That was your breaking point, “Well maybe it’s because I’m locked in this house and now I’m not allowed to see my friends, to go places, hell, I’m not even allowed to go outside,” you spat, glaring up at Sugu- no, Geto.

He scoffs and gently pushes you back down into the couch, his expression angry as he says, “You expect me to care? You’re not miserable. You’re not hungry, you’re not uncomfortable. You have everything here, but all you can focus on is that you’re missing your freedom, like some kind of animal.”

He shakes his head and looks away, a bitter laugh escaping him. “You’re lucky I even let you have this much. You could be locked up, actually locked up in a cell with no contact.”

Your eyes narrow, an expression of disgust on your face, “You’re right my Suguru is dead,” you grit out, brushing past him to your room.

His jaw tightens, annoyance clear in his expression as he yells after you, “And what does that mean? Your Suguru is dead, sweetheart. This is the only version of me you’ll ever have now.”

Turning back, you bare your teeth, “I might not die out there, but I sure as hell will wither away in here. Thank you, Geto, I feel so safe,” you spat the title out venomously, slamming the door, paying no mind to his recoil at the unfamiliar name.

He lets out a low growl and slams a hand on the door, his voice rising in a sharp, cold snap. “You’re going to open this door right now.”

“We don't all get what we want,” you say, voice empty as you glare at the door. “Remember? Safety over happiness?”

He steps back and takes a deep, calming breath. With sharp, angry strides, he walks into the living room and sits on the couch, every movement radiating anger.

“Happiness will pass,” he grinds out, his gaze cold as steel fixated on the wall. “Safety is permanent.”

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Over the next 2 days, fury is the only thing you feel, it consumes you. You don’t sleep, don’t eat, you can’t breathe from the anger running through your veins. After the first couple of hours, your room is completely trashed, everything that decorated her room was either broken or on the floor. Your books were bent, pages torn out and crumpled. Your plants were turned on their sides, pots broken as soil spilled out. Pictures of the two of you in school, along with Satoru, Shoko, Nanami, and Haibara were shattered, drawings you had made of each other, laughed over were taken out of their frames and torn to pieces, the frames crumpled and dented. The pretty vase of flowers he got you? Smashed to pieces, the petals shredded and stems ripped. The pillows and blankets you bought together? Ripped, the stuffing leaking, just how your pain leaked oozed from every pore. The jackets, shirts, and sweatshirts he gave you were tossed in the hall. Every gift he ever got you was either broken, ripped, shredded or shoved away from your sight. Everything you enjoyed was broken beyond repair.

The only thing that remained untouched was a model kit that the two of you spent nearly a week on before he defected. It was also the first time he ever kissed you, right as he placed the final piece, he turned to you and his lips pressed softly to yours, murmuring as he let you keep it.

Now, you couldn’t even look at it, but you couldn’t bear the thought of crushing it, so it sat on the windowsill, hidden behind the blinds that were always shut tightly, preventing any glimpse of the outside.

Geto didn’t do that, you did. You couldn’t bear to see freedom so close, yet so far. The sun would shine on the grass and trees outside your window, birds flying over and nesting in the big oak tree in the back. Each night, when the sun set, the sky would be ablaze with the most vibrant pinks, purples, and oranges. Wispy clouds trailed their fingertips through the sea of the sky, curling around each other and floating whichever way the wind carried them.

You felt like a caged animal, being taunted by having to watch your freedom and life slip past right in front of you.

On day 2, you realized that your anger wasn’t getting you free. Defeated, you fell back onto your mattress, a heavy weight on your chest, like this invisible force was smothering you.

You couldn’t cry, it was like the comfort of tears had forsaken you as well as the life you were once so excited to continue alongside your friends.

You just felt so empty, the anger had burned out all of your motivation, all of your feelings, leaving you a hollow, blank shell.

A part of you died with Suguru when he disappeared back in school, coming back as someone you could barely recognize. Eventually you moved on from his disappearance, but a part of you stayed back, unable to forget about the one person that meant so much to you, who understood you, who took time to learn each side of you.

When he came back, your mind was tricked by his physical appearance and you didn’t notice that the tenderness and joy had all been leached out, leaving behind his shell, fueled only by his negative emotions.

You didn’t know how long you laid there, lost in your own mind before the door opened. Even though you didn’t look, you could still sense he was standing there.

You didn’t react, not when he sighed at the mess, not when he came closer or when he peered at you.

“Come, I made you food,” he says stiffly, eyes sweeping over the crushed memories, precious items that weren’t too special to anyone except you.

Standing up, you avoided his eyes and walked past him, shoulders curled inwards as you sat down in front of the plate set up for you.

You couldn’t even feel your hunger, your mouth didn’t water as the scent of his Zaru Soba filled the air. Sides of vegetables and sauces sat alongside the dishes.

You ate robotically, the food turning to ash in your mouth. Normally when you ate his cooking, you’d be shoveling it in your mouth as fast as possible, trying to eat as much as you could before you got a stomach ache.

But normally you wouldn’t be locked inside.

You could tell Sug-, no, Geto was a little concerned as he watched you eat slowly, completely blank, a harsh contrast from your torn apart room.

He cleared his throat, “Is the food okay?” Geto asks, his voice hesitant.

“S’fine,” you muttered, staring at the plate.

He didn’t try to talk to you again but he sat there, watching you with sharp eyes.

After you finished, you took your dishes over, rinsing the residue off and setting them next to the sink before you went back to your room, shrinking away from the windows, like a phantom.

And that’s what you were, a ghost, a wraith. A spirit that haunts the halls of the house, staring blankly for hours on end. And wherever you drift, the curtains fall shut, clouding the house in darkness once more. Darkness that was reflected under your eyes.

You grow paler, thinner, your hair messy and clothes hanging off your body like rags. You only ate when he made you, only slept when he made you, only spoke when he asked you something. All your other time was spent locked in your mind, staring off into space.

Geto had attempted to bring you back to life. He had cleaned up most of your room, replaced books, framed new pictures, and bought you new pillows and blankets. He tried to talk to you, tried to get you to do things together, but you only responded with simple answers or refusal.

He tried to get you to cook with him, playing music while he waited for you to come out of your room and help him or even just sit at the counter. He tried to give you new plants, but you never watered them, your room was already too dark for them to live long. He gave you all the comforts you could want, but nothing changed.

A cage was still a cage no matter how pretty it was.

Only you couldn’t bear to look outside of it.

You could tell Geto was getting frustrated, he stopped trying to sweet talk you into spending time with him or having a conversation. He stopped putting so much effort into cooking, realizing that you weren’t enjoying it. He stopped trying to breathe life into your room, stopped adding old pictures, stopped setting plants on the shelf, leaving the other ones to wilt away.

It was ironic, you and the plants were both wilting away from the sun, dying slowly.

Like usual, you were laying on your bed, looking at the ceiling and imagining the bright blue sky and the fluffy clouds with birds flying overhead, trying to bring you some comfort, to ground you and to bring you some form of happiness.

It had been months. Five months since you’ve been outside, five months since you’ve seen anyone but him, five months since you’ve seen anything else but the same walls.

You missed it. The smell of the outdoors, fresh air, grass, and earth, just like you missed other people. You missed the students too. Missed Yuji’s enthusiasm, Megumi’s dry wit, and Nobara's complaints. You missed the simple moments too, Shoko yelling at Satoru for sticking his hands in her business yet again, Nanami’s grounding presence, hell even Ijichi’s nervous demeanor.

But they weren’t here. So you held onto the memories, just like you did when Geto left.

You didn’t care anymore, you barely ate, just laid in bed, numb. Your hands were bloody from how often you picked your cuticles, your nails were just nubs, bitten down to the skin. Every time anything would scab over, you picked it immediately.

It was a reminder, a reminder that you were still real, that you could feel, no matter how much you didn’t want to. No matter how many times that she felt like she wasn’t here, the pain would bring her crashing back down.

Geto watched your slow retreat over the next few months. As much as he tried to talk to you, to coax you back to something like your old self, he made no ground. You were like a shell of your former self, just a hollow echo with no fire in its soul.

With every week that passed, he grew more and more desperate. He tried bringing your favorite foods in, tried to talk you into listening to music again, but none of it had any effect. He spent less and less time with his cult, just staying near you, watching you. He tried to keep a blank expression around you, but as the months passed and he noticed that you were beginning to wilt away, the hard lines in his expression would soften to concern. He attempted to give you things to do, books to read and such, but every time he was met with either you ignoring him or just reading the words without actually comprehending them.

By the time a couple of months had passed, your old self was gone, replaced with this empty, soulless shell.

After another month, he was at his wit’s end. You never talked, you never attempted to do anything, you were just a shell. All your fire, your brightness, your life, was gone.

He watched over you constantly, his worry and agitation growing. It was like he was taking care of a robot or a puppet, rather than the person he loved.

On one particular day, he stands in front of you with a conflicted look on his face as he says, “I can’t keep doing this.”

You just walked by him towards your room, “I told you.”

He follows you into the room, his expression hardening as he says, “Don’t you even care anymore? You’ve given up on everything.”

“No, I don’t care.”

He scoffs in disbelief, crossing his arms. “Damn it, you’re not even going to try and fight this?” he says, his voice sharp and bitter.

You sigh, finally turning to him, “There’s no point.”

He goes silent, his gaze fixed on you, taking in your changed appearance. There was a time when he would’ve admired everything about you, how fiery you were, how full of life.

Now, now you were thin and limp and lifeless. Like a puppet without its strings, he felt like he’d broken you down to nothing but a shell of your former self.

After a few moments, he lets out a sigh and mutters, “You look terrible.”

“I'm safe,” you say simply, her words having no bite, just as lifeless as you. Crawling into bed, you faced the ceiling.

He squeezes his eyes shut as you speak, his heart twisting in his chest at your tone. He’s never heard you sound so lifeless before, so dull, almost like everything inside you has died. His hand gently shifts to the nape of your neck, his touch almost tender.

“This isn’t what I wanted. You’re acting like a doll, not like yourself.”

You turned away from him, “My safety matters most,” you say robotically.

He falls silent. It was a statement he had said, and yet…

He sighs and closes his eyes, shaking his head. “Safety isn’t everything. What’s the point if you’re left miserable?” he said tiredly.

You didn’t bother agreeing, not when it took him this long to understand.

He runs a hand through his hair and scoffs, anger rising in him. “You’re supposed to argue! You’re supposed to get mad at me, yell at me!”

Geto’s hand clenches into a fist and he looks down at you, irritation filling his gaze. “You’re not this, you’re supposed to be all bright and happy, damn it!”

“I tried,” you mutter.

He lets out a sharp, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You tried? Hah. You didn’t even fight it in the end, you just let yourself crumble and now I’m stuck with this-“ he waves a hand at you, “-this empty husk.”

You gave him a tired look, “I can’t fight forever.”

He sighs and shakes his head, his expression growing cold. “Bullshit. You could’ve kept fighting, you could’ve still been resisting but instead you just… gave up.”

His lip curls into a sneer, his anger flaring. “You just gave up and let me break you.”

“I just wanted to go outside,” you say, your voice broken as you turn towards the closed curtain.

His expression twists into a scowl, his anger still there but more muted. He takes a step forward, his gaze on you as he says, “Outside? That’s what this is about? You want to go out there? Do you have any idea what’s like for you outside? Why do I have to keep you here? It’s for your own safety. Can’t you see that?”

“I don’t want to live anymore,” you whisper, completely and utterly broken.

He’s taken aback, his anger instantly vanishing into thin air. He stands there in stunned silence, his jaw clenched tightly. The words hit him like a freight train, each syllable a sharp stab into their chests. He knew, he knew he’d driven you to the brink of depression, but hearing it out loud… he doesn’t say anything for a moment, just stands there. “You don’t mean that,” he finally murmurs.

Geto comes forward and kneels at the side of the bed, reaching out a hand slowly, as if he’s afraid he’ll scare you away. He gently brushes a strand of your hair away from your face, his touch a tender, gentle one. “You can’t mean that,” he says again, his voice quiet and broken, “Tell me you didn’t mean that.”

You shake your head, “I’m done.”

He takes your hand in his, clasping it firmly on his own. His eyes lock onto yours, pleading. “Don’t say that. You’re not done. You’re just lost, I can help you find your way back, I can fix this, I can fix you.”

You avoid his gaze, “I don’t think anyone can.”

He refuses to believe that, his grip on your hand tightening as he says firmly, “I can. Anything that can be broken can be fixed. You’re just… confused. I can help you, I can fix you.”

“It’s been months.”

He can’t deny that, and he knows it. It was his fault, his fault that you were like this. Still, he shakes his head and looks you in the eye, determined. “It doesn’t matter how long it’s been. You’re broken, and I’m going to fix you. I don’t care what I have to do.”

He releases your hand and stands, towering over you with a determined expression. “I will fix you,” he repeats firmly, his jaw clenched tight. “I just need to find the right method. I’ll fix you. You just have to let me.”

“There’s nothing left to fix,” you whispered shakily.

He scoffs, his impatience flaring. “You don’t get to decide that. I know you’re in there, somewhere, you’re just hiding! You’re just…” He rubs a hand down his face, his frustration growing as he tries to find the right words. “You just need to be reminded of what you had. What we had.”

“I had a life.”

He looks at you, his expression hardening. “You have a life. You’re alive. You’re living, breathing, safe. That’s what matters, not you going out and running risks.”

“There’s nothing left for me,” you say, picking at your bloody hands, trying to ground yourself.

He grabs your shoulders, forcing you to look at him as he says, “Are you listening to yourself? We’ve been through so much. You are my world, my everything. I love you with all my heart. Why can’t you see that? Why can’t you understand?”

Your gaze snaps to him, eyes hardening, “Why can’t you understand me?”

He shakes you a little, his fingers almost digging into your shoulders. “I’m trying!” he growls out, his anger flaring again. “But you’re just so damn stubborn, refusing to listen and understand what I’m doing is for your own good.”

And just like a flip of a switch you turn away from him, the little emotion and vulnerability you showed vanished, tucked away and extinguished.

He’s left standing there, your expressionless body turned away from him. Frustration, irritation, anger, helplessness, guilt, all well up inside him. In a moment of blind frustration, he grabs a nearby pillow and lets out a yell as he throws it across the room.

You don’t react, don’t flinch, you just lie there, already retreating back into the corner of your mind.

He stands and stares at your still body for a few moments, his chest heaving. He wants to shake you, to yell at you, to get something back, any semblance of you, his best friend. But you’ve already retreated back into your emotionless shell, leaving him standing there and feeling more powerless than ever.

He falls to his knees and presses his palms to his eyes, his mind spinning as his emotions overwhelm him. The guilt in his chest is threatening to choke him, the sight of you lying there, barely even alive, all his fault. At that moment, he doesn’t feel like a man, much less a powerful sorcerer. He just feels like a boy who had broken the woman he loved into nothing. The woman who loved him even when he didn’t deserve it. The woman who had always been there, her presence steadying him ever since they were his.

You try to drown him out, picking at the peeling scabs on your fingers, staring at the covered window.

He drops his hands from his face, his expression tired, guilt, frustration, and even self loathing filling his gaze. He rises slowly and comes to stand by you, his movements almost wary. He eyes your body on the bed, so thin and pale, and his hand automatically comes out to touch your hair like he’s done a hundred times before, but he hesitates, his hand hovering just above your head.

Without warning, you feel his arms around you, picking you up. You don’t ask, don’t protest, don’t even move, just lie there in his arms, eyes staring straight forward.

He picks you up bridal style, one arm under your thighs and the other under your shoulders. Your frame is too light in his arms as he heads out of the room with you. You’re limp, pliant as a doll, as he carries you through the house.

He walks outside and down the porch steps, his footsteps quick and precise as he walks across the lawn to the other side of his sprawling property.

As soon as the fresh air hits you, you tense, squinting at the sun.

You were outside.

You were outside for the first time in nearly 6 months. It was better than you ever could’ve dreamed. The smell of grass and fresh air fills your senses. You could hear the steady pace of Geto’s feet as he walked through the field, could hear the chirp of the birds, could hear the rustling of leaves in the wind. The warmth of the sun shone on your skin, a sharp contrast from the artificial temperature of the AC or heater.

He sees tension take over your limbs, your gaze squinting up at the sunlight. He’s hit with another wave of guilt, realizing that this might be the first time in months you’d been outside, in the sunlight.

Your eyes dart around, observing everything you can, eyes wide like this was your last chance to take it all in.

He carries you to the big oak tree at the end of his property, overlooking the hills and valleys towards the sun that was slowly sinking towards the horizon.

He gently sets you down in the shade, sitting a little bit behind you, leaving you to soak up what you’d been missing.

Instantly, your hands thread through the grass, clutching it like a lifeline. Your eyes are glued to the scenery in front of you. Rolling hills of all shades of green, from a deep hunter to a pale lime, trees and shrubs scattered the valleys, framing the thin silvery stream running down the middle. Wildflowers and weeds dotted the fields, their bright bursts of yellow, purples, oranges, and reds making the crystal sky so much clearer. Big fluffy tufts of white floated leisurely along the heavens, breaking up the sun into bright patches, shining on the bright grass below.

You're so absorbed in looking around that you don’t feel the tears dripping down her face, hands shaking from your tight grip on the poor grass.

Once you let in a shaky breath, he pauses, eyeing you like a ticking time bomb. His eyes widen as the realization hits him, watching the tears roll down your cheeks. He hadn’t seen you cry in years, ever since you had gotten your heart broken as a first-year. In all the time he knew you, you’ve been strong and fiery, fighting against the challenges that life handed to you. He can’t remember the last time he saw you cry, and seeing you now… he hates the sight of it.

He moves closer, his arms encircling you, his chest firm against your back. He leans you against him, his chin resting on top of your head. He murmurs softly, “Don’t cry, sweetheart. It’s okay. You’re outside.”

In your moment of weakness, you lean back into him, tears coming faster as you choked out, ��It’s so fucking pretty.”

He can’t stop the frown on his expression as you cry, your body shuddering. It hurts, more than anything else, seeing you cry. He pulls you closer, one of his hands gently stroking your hair as he murmurs, “It’s just the same old trees and grass. You’ve seen them before.”

You shake your head, unable to express the rawness of your feelings, only able to clutch his arm as you sobbed. Your relief at being able to feel the world again, it was overwhelming. But so was the fear, the fear that it’d be snatched away again.

His frown deepens as he watches you, feeling even more guilty as he continues to hear you cry. He pulls you into his lap, one of his arms around your waist, keeping you pressed against him. His other hand continues to stroke your hair, his voice quiet as he murmurs, “It’s okay… cry it out, sweetheart.”

You nestle yourself back into his chest, unable to tear your eyes away, “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He follows your gaze, staring out at the horizon, a pang hitting his heart as he’s reminded of how you used to look at everything with wonder. His arms wrap a little tighter, his chin resting on your shoulder as he murmurs, “And to think… you’ve been living without this for months.”

You flinch slightly at his words, sniffling and trying to hold your sobs in.

The bitter irony of the situation hits him harder than anything. Months of keeping you safe, of keeping you inside, all to keep you protected, but now just the act of you sitting outside is enough to bring you alive. He turns his gaze back to you, taking in your tear stained face, his jaw clenching tight in frustration at himself and this whole situation.

You nod, getting distracted as you see the birds flying overhead, going to their nest in the tree above your head. Letting out shaky breaths, you try to stabilize yourself, not wanting to scare the creatures away.

He shifts closer to you, keeping a slight distance, but still within arms reach. He follows your gaze to the birds and grimaces again.

His voice is quiet, almost hesitant, as he asks, “You want to get closer to them, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, your voice a rasp, “No, I don’t want to scare them away.”

He lets out a soft huff, his gaze softening as he hears your raspy voice again. It’s the most he’s heard you speak today, if not in days, weeks even.

He watches you for a few moments, noticing the slight tremble in your hands, before his voice is soft, almost pleading, “You’re trembling, darling.” His hand twitches, as if he wants to reach out to comfort you, but he restrains himself. “Let me hold you. You’re shaking like a leaf.”

His voice has a hint of desperation in it now, seeing the tremble in your body. It pains him to see you like this, especially considering it’s all because of him.

He moves closer, slowly, his hand hovering over your shoulder, “Please. Let me hold you, sweetheart.”

“I just need to see,” you plead, voice cracking.

He clenches his jaw, closing his eyes to keep himself from losing it when he hears your words. He knows you’re not just talking about the birds, that this is about needing space, needing freedom.

And it kills him.

He reaches out anyway, unable to stand the sight of your trembling hands. He gently grabs your shoulders and pulls you back, positioning you so you’re leaning against his chest. He holds you against his chest tightly, his arms wrapping around you protectively. He buries his face in your hair, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, trying to regain control of himself.

He can’t help the broken words that escape him as he whispers, his voice strangled, “Oh sweetheart, what did I do to you…?”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, his chest tight as he feels your body tremble against his. His voice is desperate as he speaks, his heart feeling like it’s being shredded with every word, “Please, please, please don't be like this anymore. I need you to smile, to laugh, to yell at me, anything at this point. That blank look, the silence… it’s killing me.”

“I’ll try, just- just don’t keep me in there,” you beg.

He lets out a choked noise, his hold on you tightening a bit. He’d do anything to bring the life back into your eyes, to hear your voice.

His voice is strained as he says, his head resting on your shoulder, “Anything you want, sweetheart. You won’t be locked in anywhere again, I promise. Just please… stop being like this. I need you back… you.”

He shifts, gently turning you so you’re facing him. His eyes roam your expression, taking in the tear tracks, the broken eyes, the trembling body. He lifts his hand, gently wiping at your cheeks and wiping away the tears. His voice is a strangled plea as he says, his fingers tracing your cheek tenderly, “Please… stop crying.”

He reaches up a hand, gently wiping at the tears on your cheeks. “I hate seeing you cry,” he murmurs, his expression still full of guilt as he continues, “That’s not how it’s supposed to be. You should smile, not sit here sobbing.”

He gently turns you around, tilting your chin up to see the sincerity in his eyes.

“I couldn’t cry before I came out here,” your voice broke, “I couldn’t even feel anything.”

He shakes his head and holds you tighter, guilt continuing to build inside him. “You shouldn’t cry like this… you should be happy, enjoying the fresh air. Not crying over the very simple things I’ve taken away from you.”

He sighs and closes his eyes, resting his head on top of yours as he continues stroking your hair. He murmurs, “I knew you’d be happy to be outside, I knew it’d be different… I just didn’t know it’d be like this. I didn’t think you’d be crying like your world finally came back. I just-“ his voice breaks off as he tries to find the words to say, guilt and frustration and regret warring within him. He takes in every detail of your form, and the guilt washes over him in waves. He feels like he’s broken you, even as he holds you tightly in his arms.

His grip on you almost becomes bruising as he speaks, his voice rough, “You’re free, darling. You’re safe. I won’t ever lock you away again, I promise.”

The guilt is so strong he’s nauseous, trying to keep himself together as he keeps you in his lap, trying to savor every second of this. Knowing that you probably hate him, but can’t even fight him in this moment, just sitting there and crying and staring out at the world he locked you away from. He knows that he’s changed your life forever, and he can’t even blame you for hating him right now.

You pause, hiccupping and debating your next words, “Thank you… Suguru,” you say hesitantly, lingering a bit longer on the syllables of his name. Syllables you hadn’t said in months, hell, you hadn’t even let yourself think of the name unless it was about the old Suguru.

Suguru’s eyes widen in surprise, and he almost doesn’t reply for a moment due to shock. He didn’t think he’d be hearing you saying his name, let alone thanking him. He takes a second to swallow the lump in his throat, his voice hoarse as he murmurs, “You’re thanking me…?”

The sun starts to slip below the horizon, setting the sky ablaze. Magnificent reds and orange and pinks lighting up the pale sky, dark clouds acting like smoke. It almost looked like the sun was melting, setting the green, lush valley on fire below.

Your sobs slow to hiccups, body shuddering.

His hand continues to rub your back gently as he feels your sobs slow down, the sound being replaced with hiccups. He presses a gentle kiss to your head again, his hold on you still tight.

He murmurs quietly into your ear as he speaks, his voice still ragged, “That’s right, just breathe, sweet girl. Take deep breaths…. I’ve got you, I’ve always got you.”

He cradles you against him, holding you tightly as you rest your head against his chest. He buries his face in your hair again, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

His thumb rubs your arm tenderly, the motion gentle and almost soothing. He sits there silently, listening to the sound of your ragged breaths slowly even out.

Suguru’s suddenly hit with the realization that he’ll most likely have to bring you back inside eventually, and he lets out a silent grimace at the thought of it. A heavy feeling settles in his chest, the thought of making you go back to that emotionless, depressed shell of yourself making him feel nauseous. He tries to ignore it, shoving that thought away and focusing on his hand stroking your hair. He takes in a deep breath and murmurs, “Sweetheart?”

“Hm?” You murmur, nearly half asleep against him, watching the setting sun.

He takes another deep breath, steeling his nerves and continuing, his voice low and steady. “I’ve gotta ask you something.”

Suguru gently turns your chin to face him, taking another deep breath and looks you dead in the eye, his gaze fierce and determined as he asks, “If it wasn’t for me, if you were free to do whatever, go wherever you wanted… would you leave me?”

You hesitate, afraid that he wouldn’t like your answer, “If I could do whatever I wanted, I’d stay with you, just not holed up in the house forever.”

He relaxes fractionally, the tense lines in his expression smoothening just a bit, but his jaw is still clenched tight. His next question comes out hesitant, like he’s afraid of the answer. “You… would stay with me, but not if I kept you inside like this, correct?”

You nod, not knowing what else to say.

There’s an undeniable sense of relief in his expression, a weight seemingly lifted off his chest at your response. He takes another deep breath, his voice a low murmur as he continues with the questions. “So, if I told you I’d let you go out as long as you promise me you’d come home every night…?”

“Then I’d stay,” you whispered, afraid to get your hopes up.

Suguru watches you, his gaze sharp and serious. He lets out a shaky exhale, feeling almost like he’s on the verge of a panic attack with how fast his heart is racing. His hand is shaking on your chin, but he manages to keep his expression as steady as possible as he continues, “No matter what, you promise you’ll come back. You promise you won’t disappear.”

“I promise,” you murmur, your voice shaky with hope.

His hand on your chin slowly relaxes, as if a great weight has been lifted from his shoulders. He holds your gaze for a few more seconds, staring at your face intently. After a moment, he pulls you closer and presses a kiss to your forehead, his voice hoarse as he murmurs, “Okay, thank you.”

Your face lights up and you spin around, crushing him in a hug, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Suguru.”

He lets out a surprised huff, but his body immediately relaxes, and he wraps his arms tight around you in return. He burrows his head into your shoulder as your arms cling to him, his own hands gripping your shirt in a vice-like grip. For a few moments, he just sits there, revelling in the feeling of you holding him tight, those words you said bouncing around in his head. He was finally getting you back, even though it wasn’t much, it was still progress.

He’s on the verge of sobbing, but he manages to compose himself, instead holding you tighter and asking, “You swear you’ll come back? Every night, you swear it?”

Nodding frantically, you refuse to let go, your face buried in his shirt.

Suguru lets out a shaky exhale, his eyes clamped shut as he leans down and presses his forehead against your hair. He murmurs into it, his voice low and hoarse, “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. I never should’ve done that to you.”

His body is tense against yours, his arms holding you tightly as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear. He continues his murmured apologies, a mix of guilt and desperation lacing his words. He continues to bury his face into your hair, his voice now rough and hoarse. “I never should’ve done that to you, I should never have kept you locked up and trapped like that. It was never meant to be that way, I just… I just wanted to keep you safe, but I ended up destroying you. I’m so goddamn sorry.”

You're nearly too dizzy from your newfound freedom to respond, barely choking out, “S’okay, we’re okay, I’m okay.”

He can’t help it, a harsh sob escaping from his lips at your words. He can’t stop himself as he pulls you closer, burrowing his head into the crook between your neck and shoulder, his words coming out choppy and broken as he speaks through his tears. “No, no, it’s not okay, it’s not okay. I was supposed to be your protector, but I ended up hurting you worse than I probably protected you.” Suguru’s hold on you tightens even more, almost borderline painful in how much his fingers dig into your flesh. He’s crying now, full on crying, something he hadn’t done in years. He presses his face into your neck, his entire body shaking as he murmurs through his tears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so goddamn sorry.”

You were slightly surprised at his clinginess, but nonetheless, you gently raked your fingers through his long hair, trying to soothe the broken boy holding onto you like you were the only thing keeping him here.

Suguru buries his face into your neck, his breaths coming out in hiccuping sobs, his tears wetting your skin as he continues to mumble, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He’s completely crumbling in your arms, the strong, stoic facade he had for the past months shattering and crumbling to pieces. He buries his face into your neck, his body shaking uncontrollably, his shoulders heaving with sobs as he holds onto you like a lifeline and repeats his apologies over and over again. “Please, please… don’t leave me... please don’t hate me, I’m sorry, I’m so goddamn sorry…”

“Shh, you’re okay, you’re okay. I’ve got you, I ain’t going nowhere,” you soothe, your voice hoarse from your own crying session.

He keeps his face buried in the crook of your neck as he tries his best to quell the sobs still escaping him. His breath is hot and ragged, his grip on you still painfully tight. He manages to control it enough to stop the sobs, now he’s shuddering slightly as he whispers, “I’m so sorry. For leaving you, for trapping you. Just please, I’ll be your Suguru again. Just don’t leave me, don’t hate me.”

“I don’t think I could ever hate you, no matter what you do,” you admit, voice shaking. “C’mon, you wanna go inside? It’s getting dark and cold out.”

He lets out a shaky exhale at your words, a wave of relief and gratitude passing over him. He takes a moment to collect himself, before letting out a deep exhale and nodding, his voice still trembling as he murmurs, “Yeah, let’s go inside…” and begins the slow process of detaching his limbs from around you and standing up.

Suguru lifts you up like you weigh nothing, both of you leaning on each other and hands interlaced as you head back towards the house.

He carries you most of the way, refusing to let you get your feet muddy, pausing as he holds you in the living room, “Can you open your eyes for me, sweetheart? Where do you want to sleep?”

“Your bed, just leave the window and door open… please,” you murmur, barely opening your eyes.

He nods silently, his grip on you shifting slightly so he can readjust his hold. Suguru then begins walking down the hallway, making his way to his room. Once in the room, he walks to the bed and gently sets you down on it, shifting a bit so he’s sitting next to you. He pauses there, simply looking at you for a few seconds before speaking, “I’ll get the window and door, alright darling?”

You nod, curling into his bed and inhaling the scent of him.

He stands, reluctantly letting go of you so he can walk around the room, opening the window and the door before turning back to you.

He looks at you again, hesitating for a few moments before murmuring, “I’ll be right outside. Just… call for me if you need me, okay?”

You sit up, confused, “Where do you think you’re going?”

He pauses at that, looking at you for a few moments before answering, his voice soft, “Just outside the room, sweetheart. I’m not leaving you, I’m just… staying out there, in case you need me.”

“Damn right you're not leaving me again, now get in the bed,” you say firmly, your tone leaving no room for argument.

He lets out a soft huff of laughter at the command, his heart feeling just a little lighter at the bossy tone you were using.

Suguru walks over to the bed and slowly lays down across it, staying as close to the edge as he can, still keeping his distance from you.

You huff, amused at his cautiousness. You scoot over and pull him towards the center of the bed, staying close to him just like you did befor- no, don’t think of that, he’s here and you’re free.

He lets out another soft huff, unable to fight the small smile that appears at your actions. He slides across the bed until he’s directly next to you, though he keeps his hands to himself, not making any move to touch you.

You wrap your arms around him tightly, resting your head on his chest, using him as a squishie.

He tenses momentarily at your sudden move, before relaxing and letting you wrap yourself around him, a soft huff escaping him, “You ripped all your pillows so you're using me as one.”

You shrug, holding him tighter, “Maybe.”

Suguru chuckles, “Don’t worry, we can go to the market sometime this week, maybe go shopping or out to eat and I’ll get you more, a bunch more, We’ll go wherever you want, however long you want to stay.”

Letting out a content hum and melt into him, closing your eyes.

He slowly relaxes further, his arms slowly lifting and wrapping around you in turn. He holds you against him, one hand gently resting on your back and the other in your hair, his fingers running through the soft strands. Suguru’s hand runs down your back in tender motions, his touch tender, almost worshipful as his fingers softly trace across your back. He listens to your breathing, letting it soothe his nerves, his grip on you slowly tightening as he continues to run his fingers through your hair.

“Thank you,” you whisper, half asleep.

He pulls you closer to him as you speak, his breath shaky as he absorbs the weight of your words, the feel of your body against his, how you’re willingly staying in his arms, how you say his name.

His grip tightens even more, almost painful, desperate to know that this is real, that you’re not going to disappear. His voice is hoarse when he speaks, his words quiet, barely more than a whisper, “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

As you drift off, he closes his eyes, listening to your soft, even breathing. The sound is like a balm to his soul. He lets himself doze in and out of sleep, too happy to see you like this to allow himself to rest completely.

His arms loosen a bit, enough so he can maneuver his body so that his entire upper half is wrapped around you, almost shielding you from the world itself. And he would continue to, he’d continue to shield you from the harsh world, but, he wouldn’t imprison you, wouldn’t try to tame you. He’d let you burn, even if you incinerated him, he’d die with a smile on your face. Because he was your Suguru, no matter what could happen.

#suguru geto x reader #suguru x reader #geto suguru #jjk suguru #jujutsu kaisen suguru #geto #geto x reader #jjk geto #jujutsu geto #suguru #jjk angst #jjk x reader #jujitsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader

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fairlyang · 2 days ago

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Chapter 7. Fun

⋆˙⟡♡✧˖° love island au x miguel o’hara ⋆˙⟡♡✧˖°

★‧°𖦹｡⋆ miguel o’hara x mexican!bombshell!reader ⋆｡𖦹°‧★

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ W/C: 10.3K

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ CONTENT: challenge day, kisses, drama, confusion, aftermath, some guys are upset, some girls open their eyes, advice, chit chats, little bit of grafting

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ SUMMARY: what drama could unfold from the islanders first challenge? did those two really just kiss?!? did she really just say that?! did he seriously drop her?!!?? keep reading to find out!

taglist: @nicolej04 @aphinthestars @wettbaby a/n: sorry another long update... was suppose to be 6k- my badddd but at least it's fun ;)

previous part — series masterlist — next part

You were all given cute outfits to wear for the challenge, the boys were in brightly colored tight speedos while the girls had seashell bikini tops with a cheeky bottom. Also an air hostess dress to wear on top with a long zipper down the middle.

You were all put in multiple vans, but not allowed to speak.

Unfortunately, you were put in a car with Peter B, Val, and Raúl, who were all struggling with that concept.

You were next to Raúl all the way in the back and Peter B and Val in the middle, they were all just whispering, with the two in front of you looking back at you. You kept your mouth shut as they all tried to get you to break but you stayed strong.

You wanted to take a nap but apparently that wasn't allowed either so you just tried your hardest on not paying attention to them.

After a very long drive and being even closer to the ocean, you all made your way onto the platform for the challenge. First getting cute shots for the show then the instructions were explained.

It was challenge day, and that meant the girls got to be in sexy outfits while they shook what their mamas gave them! Sorry mums!

Up first is MJ.

The fake airplane's door opened and out came MJ, sticking her tongue out and turning around, lifting her dress up teasingly to give a peek of her ass. Then she turned back around and quickly unzipped the dress before swinging it over her head then throwing it to the guy's side. She picked up a bottle filled with water and splashed it over her cleavage.

Everyone was hollering for her and screaming their hearts out as she went down the slide then quickly turned to shake her ass. You screamed even louder for her as she made a splash once she reached the bottom.

She then ran her hands up and down her body, whipping her hair back, and looking to her left to give Peter B a wink. He pretended to faint while Danny and Jordan pretended to fan him.

She then crawled over to the sand, grabbing a fistful of it and rubbing it into her thighs before she finally looked around for the bottles. She felt around for a few seconds before finding it underneath a big pile of sand. She held it up with a wide grin, unrolling the paper, and read it out, "which girl do you think wouldn’t be with her boy on the outside."

Everyone oooh'd and watched as she grabbed the small sand castle bucket of water and walked over to the girls. She looked at you all with an evil look in your eye, walking past you all in a line before standing in front of Dana, "give me that ass girl."

Dana laughed and turned around sticking her ass out, MJ dumping it over her while Dana shook it the best she could, with her dress riding up. Meanwhile, you all cheered her on.

"HELL YEAHHH!"

"That's sooo hot."

"I know that's right baby!!"

"DAMNNN."

MJ went back into the sand, quickly spotting the second bottle and pulling it out, and reading it, "which boy do you think is the shadiest."

She gasped then ooh'd as she grabbed the next bucket. She stood up and walked over to their side, biting her lip as she looked them all over before standing in front of Danny and throwing it on his chest.

He shrugged and gave her a smile as she threw the bucket back to the sandbox and she went over to the wheel. She grabbed it then gave it a big spin before grabbing the spear then walking over to the circle on the floor that was in front of the wheel.

"I'm aiming for Peter B because he clearly loves kissing me!" she exclaims and everyone cheers.

The wheel stopped and Peter B's face was on the top left with Miguel on the right and the second Peter to the left of her Peter's face. What a tongue twister!

She aimed high, and towards Peter B's face then threw, not putting much force on it because she thought it would be fine.

It wasn't.

It ended up landing just off Peter B's and onto Miguel's part.

She gasped then burst out laughing while Miguel muttered, "oh my god-"

They both looked at each other, just absolutely stun locked until the guys gave them words of encouragement.

"Go!!!"

"DO IT DO IT DO IT!!"

"Let's go!"

Miguel went over to her and motioned for her, "well, c'mon."

She looked over at Peter B and he nodded, urging her to do so, "do it!!!"

She nodded, Miguel looked more than ready to carry her so she jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist and he easily carried her over to the waterfall.

They went under it and he kissed her, while everyone laughed and yelled at them. She kept it as respectful as she could so she quickly pulled away and he pulled them away from the water then put her down gently.

Next in line was Jazmin.

The door slid open and Jazmin popped up. She strutted out like a true model, posing and blowing kisses to the girls side then to the boys. The hollers were the same as she ran her hands up and down her body then in one swift motion unzipped her dress, taking her arms out of it and letting it fall.

She picked up the bottle with water and threw it on her chest while sticking her tongue out. She threw the bottle off to the side and went down the slide, shaking her ass the whole way through. She reached the bottom and got on all fours, showing off to the girls but making seductive faces to the boys.

She sat down then crawled over to the sand where she grabbed some in her hands and sprinkled it over her tits. The girls went crazy, hyping her up as loudly as they could before she crawled around to find the first bottle.

It took her a few seconds but she quickly got it and read it aloud, "which girl do you think is leading her boy on."

She stood up and shrugged, "not gonna lie this is a hard one…"

She walked over to your side before pulling a fast one and throwing it on Val's chest, "love youuuuu."

Val fake gasped and pretended to be offended while Jazmin went back into the sandbox. She found the second bottle and said, "which boy is not being transparent enough."

She walked over to the boys with the bucket immediately laying eyes on Raúl just because she knew the others wouldn't make sense. He gave her a grin and she threw it on top of his head. He shook his head, splashing her in the process making her scream, "you fucker!!"

She flicked him off then went on to spin the wheel. It did a solid two spins as she grabbed the spear then went to her designated spot. It stopped and she looked at all the faces, really wanting to stir shit further just for the heck of it.

"I'm aiming for…. Danny because I know he misses me." she exclaims and it grew quiet with just some awkward ohhs and laughs.

"Oh that's for shits and giggles." Gwen mumbles to you.

You nod and gulp, "hope she knows what she's doing."

Danny's face was right at the bottom so she threw it and landed it right on his face. The guys didn't even know what to do, Peter B was trying to lighten the mood but with two confused guys, it was even harder.

Nonetheless, Danny walked up to her and picked her up then walked over to the waterfall. He put her against the wall and kissed her, she kissed him back running her hands up and down his back.

You looked over at the guys and they looked just as confused, especially Jordan who was trying to hide it. Your eyes darted back to them and they were still going at it, now more heated than ever. It lasted a good twenty seconds before Danny pulled away, telling her something then putting her down and he walked back to the guys.

Up next was Dana, who immediately wasted no time and took the dress off. She threw it behind her then grabbed the bottle with water, turning around then sticking her ass out.

She poured the water down her back then shook her ass. The bottle was quickly thrown and she went down the slide, letting out giggles as she landed.

She whipped her hair back, letting her hands caress her thighs then go up to her chest and teasingly squeezing her tits.

She crawled over the sandbox, getting into doggy, and making eyes at the camera. The girls hollered like never before, absolutely shocked but ecstatic.

You yelled for her as well while she got the first bottle. She opens it with a grin and reads it, “which girl is going to have her head turned next.”

She hums and walks over to you all with her little bucket, eyeing all the girls up. Jazmin gave her pleading eyes and she would’ve felt bad choosing Val.

Plus she knew the other two wouldn’t make sense.

So she stood in front of you, grabbed your hand, twirling you around. You gasped but then leant over making the dress ride up and shook your ass while she poured it on you.

The girls yelled and you felt a hand smack your right cheek making you laugh. She turned you back around, giving you a smile, “only because it’s a brand new couple.”

You nod and wave her off, “I’ll take that.”

The guys on the other hand were hooting and hollering, teasing Miguel but his eyes were set on the prize.

Dana walked up and got on her knees finding the next bottle, “which boy do you think is the most two faced.”

“Oh I wonder who…” she says and stands up, grabbing the other bucket.

Miguel takes a deep breath as she strolls over with a devious look on her face. “No hard feelings right?” He asks, letting out a nervous laugh and she nods.

“None!" she says with a smile before quickly adding, "after this..”

That had him quickly close his eyes as she splashes it on his face. The guys all laughed and jumped on him after she threw the bucket. She spun the wheel, grabbed the spear and got into position.

It stopped and she hums, “can I just choose at random?”

After getting a thumbs up from a producer, she closed her eyes but suddenly Peter B came up to her, spinning her then facing her towards the wheel, “go ahead.”

She threw it hard and fast, and it landed on Jordan’s section. She opened her eyes and squealed, “damn!”

He quickly went over to her, picking her up and taking her to the waterfall. She was all giggles as she hasn’t exactly had this treatment so she figured she'd make the most of it.

He had her against the wall and kissed her gently. She was the one that quickly had it heating up making Jazmin yell, “oh my god!!”

One of Dana’s hands went up to his neck and the other to one of his biceps. Jordan looked like he was enjoying himself too which was something.

One of his hands was under her ass and the other on her back because her legs were clasped. Finally they pulled away, breathless and quickly going back to their spots.

You were up next, awaiting the door to open so you could go for it. You were more excited than nervous but given it was a silly challenge, it made sense.

So when the doors quickly opened, you were ready.

You started off by unzipping the dress with a big smile before throwing it off to the side. You picked up the bottle, tilted your head back, and poured it on your chest – running your other hand down your stomach.

The hollers nearly distracted you but you went on with it, giving some cute poses before dropping down onto the slide, quickly turning to shake your ass on the way down. You landed and made a splash, quickly sitting up and running your hands up and down your body teasingly.

Switching it up, by whipping your hair back then pretending to be a cowgirl, one hand up in the air while you sway your hips back and forth.

You then crawled over to the sandbox, the bottle being in plain sight so you grabbed it, took the paper out and read it out, "which girl do you think is the most two faced."

They all ooh'd and you stood up, grabbing the bucket of water and looking over at the girls. You walked in front of them all, Jazmin raising her eyebrows at you, and giving you a little nod.

So you stood in front of her, grabbing her hand and giving her a little twirl. She stuck her ass out, looking back at you then stuck her tongue out, you used that as a sign to throw it on her ass and she shook it like a professional.

Your mouth was wide open and the other girls were also admiring it and cheering her on before you heard the guys yelling and you laughed, "oops!"

You went back into the sandbox and found a mountain of sand so you dug through it and there laid the bottle. You quickly grabbed it and took the paper out, unrolling it then read it out, "which boy would do whatever it takes to get the cash prize."

"OHHH SHIT-"

"DAMNNN."

"Uh ohhhhh."

You laughed, grabbing the bucket and stood up, walking over to the boys looking them all in the eye. They egged you on and you stood in front of Miguel and Peter.

They both prepared for impact but you pulled a fast one, moving to the left and splashing Peter B in the face and chest. He saw it coming and had his tongue out, grinning at you afterward, "okay, okay I see how it is."

"Hey I'm just having a little fun.." you tease and he gives you a wink.

You walked over to the wheel, giving it a big spin then grabbed the spear. You went to your position and you heard the girls scream.

"THROW IT HARD!!"

"Use some force!!"

"LET'S GOOO!!"

“YOU GOT THIS!!!!”

You hummed, looking at all the faces and not sure what to do and just going for the logical choice, "I'm aiming for…. Miguel!"

You looked over at him, giving him a grin while they all yelled and you aimed it high, deciding not to take the girl's advice because it didn't seem that hard.

You pulled your arm back then threw it high, it landed so close to Miguel's but instead it landed on Raúl’s side.

Everyone burst out laughing and you gasped.

“I didn’t think it was that flimsy!!!” You yelled, making them all burst out laughing.

“You should’ve listened to us!!” MJ yells back earning herself an eye roll.

Raúl quickly came up to you, giving you a grin then motioned for you to jump, which you quickly did. He caught you as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

He walked over to the waterfall, choosing to go in one of the corners that had less water coming down on it. Your back was against the wall and you felt some water sprinkle the top of your head, you wrapped your arms around his neck and without saying a word, he smashed his lips against yours.

You kissed him instantly, feeling the same little spark like you did yesterday. You pulled him in closer with your legs, your bodies pressed together — wanting it to be extra in case it were the last one you'd share with him.

He smiled into the kiss, pressing his lips harder against yours while your hands went up to play with his hair. One of his hands went up to your jaw and he was only holding you up with the other.

He slid his tongue into your mouth, your tongue clashing with his and so focused in on the kiss. You followed his lead as he deepened the kiss, filled with such an urgency that was leaving you not only breathless but with plenty of need for more.

You tugged on his hair making him moan in your mouth, just sending shivers down your spine. Your body was growing warm and that little bit of water falling on top of your head was not helping in the slightest.

You slowed it down, not wanting to get too ahead of yourself and he notices, pulling away. You try fighting back a smile and to actually see it, Raúl leans close to your ear and whispers, “we should keep doing that more often…”

You bit your lip as he pulled away, giving you a wide grin so you gave him one right back, “maybe we should.”

He nods and takes a few steps back, directly under the waterfall. The coldness of the water makes you jump in his arms as he takes more steps back from it, laughing.

“That was rude!!” You whine and he just shrugs, “I’m just having a little fun.”

You rolled your eyes and he put you down, giving you a wink before he walked over to the boys. You walked towards the girls with a sheepish grin on your face while a few of them teased you.

Meanwhile Gwen was already on the platform and at that point you might’ve blacked out. It was already weird being outside the villa, let alone where you were right in the sun’s view.

You looked over at the boys, who were hollering for Gwen and perfectly in the shade because of the waterfall’s shadow.

Lucky as fuck.

You looked towards Jordan, who was elbowing Raúl and clearly teasing him but his expression didn't look like he minded so much.

Interesting.

You looked back at Gwen and she was now in the sand, opening up the first paper.

She loudly cleared her throat and read, “which girl is the most boring!!”

“Damn that’s fucked up-“

"I know it's not me!!"

Gwen did an evil laugh as she skipped over and instantly threw it at MJ, making her squeal. Everyone burst out laughing while she wiped her face and gave Gwen the deadliest glare.

She only giggled, "love you girlieeee." and then quickly went back to the sandbox.

In an instant, she found the next bottle and shouted, "which guy hasn’t shown any signs of bro code!!!"

The boys all quickly defended themselves but her mind was set and nothing was going to change that. She went directly to Raúl, splashing him in the face then running away, "He’s a little sneaky!!"

Raúl just laughed as she gave him a quick wink then went to spin the wheel. She spun it hard, grabbed the spear then ran to her spot. Unlike you, she took the advice of the other girls, using any excuse to kiss her guy.

She threw it hard and it landed right on Peter’s face. She cheered, ran over to him, hopping onto him catching him by surprise but he still managed to hold onto her.

He led her to the waterfall, kissing her right underneath it. He was going to push her against the wall but he instead slipped, nearly falling to the ground in an awfully painful manner but he saved them both and it looked slick instead.

The guys hollered their hearts out, screaming and jumping up and down as if he had planned it but from the girls' angle it was just genuine pure luck.

They were making out with him on top of her and hands on her hips while hers were on his back. The screams became louder by the second, distracting them both and having them both get all shy.

They came back to their spots and lastly was Val.

She instantly started, unzipping her dress and throwing it behind her before reaching for the bottle. She turned around, sticking her ass out and shaking it for everyone while throwing the water behind her back.

She threw the bottle then went down the slide, immediately getting into doggy after making a big splash. She shook her ass in a way that had everyone not only impressed but just mesmerized.

Now taking advantage of that, she crawled over to the sand, laying down then lifting her hips up, ass up in the air before sitting up. She found the first bottle and grinned as she read it, “which girl do you think is the fakest!”

She sprinted over to Gwen with the bucket, prompting the girl to quickly turn around and stick her ass out. She did her thing as Val threw the water at her with everyone else hyping her up.

She then ran off to the sandbox, too excited to function, and finds the bottle with the snap of a finger — quickly reading it, “which boy do you think is going to be dumped next!”

“Damn that’s fucking awful-“ she says and gets the bucket anyway.

“Y’all won’t take offense to it right?” She asks, walking up to them and they all respond at the same time.

“Absolutely.”

“Yes.”

“Course not.”

“Nah.”

“I will.”

“I hate you all.” She mutters and groans, “ugh can I just hit you all with it?”

She doesn’t wait for an answer and instead throws it straight across them all, hitting at least three different chests.

She dropped the bucket and skipped over to the wheel while the guys complained about her decision. She spun it hard then grabbed the spear, going to the circle. She hummed and rubbed her chin as it slowed down.

It stopped and she took one look at the faces and grinned, “I’m aiming for…. Peter B!! Because he didn’t get to kiss anyone.”

He gasps and his eyes widened, not sure if he liked that choice. She aimed for it, pulled her arm back then threw it hard and landed right on his face.

He screamed loudly, making her snicker before running up to him and he had no choice but to carry her. He groaned but carried her over to the waterfall anyway.

Suddenly, he came up with a fast idea, doing what Peter did accidentally but doing it on purpose. He kissed her, two seconds maximum then dropped to his knees, nearly dropping her just to scare her.

She yelped and her head was on the floor, completely submerged by the water. It didn’t even reach her ears, but he still sat up, absolutely dying of laughter seeing her face.

“That’s what I get for being nice!!!” She yells and gets off, giving him a playful middle finger while walking back to the girls side.

He got up and ran to the boys huddle while they decided who the winner was.

They all whispered, taking it very seriously because just the thought of being on the no fly list is terrifying enough! Well it comes a close second to how the girls played this game because wow!

They all came to a consensus and had Peter speak up for all of them. He cleared his throat and grinned, “we think the sexiest vixen we’d go on vacation with is….”

“Drum roll please!” He yells and everyone does so.

He waits a few seconds then yells, “Dana!!!”

She screamed and did a celebration dance while the rest of you cheered her on. Then you all left the platform and all raced across the long path and towards the parked vans.

After winning third place in the race, you were placed in the same van back with the same people, this time being sworn to not speak because everyone had to share their opinions whilst in the villa. After some hard convincing, they all agreed.

Peter B and Val were playing rock paper scissors then switched to doing thumb wars while you and Raúl were playing footsies in the back.

A long drive later and you were all back in the villa, given towels to wrap around yourselves because you couldn’t shower yet so it was to avoid getting anything dirty.

The girls all gathered by the pool, laying down on the grass while the guys were on the swingset.

"Alright, who wants to start?" MJ asks, subtly giving Jazmin a look.

She sighs and grabs a beanbag, placing it behind her and lays her head against it, "how bad did it look?"

Everyone was quiet, unsure if she truly wanted the full truth so no one said a word.

"Come on, I'm a big girl. I can handle it-"

"Bad-"

"God awful."

"Really fucking bad…"

She groans and closes her eyes, "can I just say I was on drugs or something?"

"Unfortunately, no." MJ says, making Jazmin sigh.

"Well- it's not my fault I was conflicted- I didn't even get to have a proper chat with either of them! Danny spilled the beans to Jordan last night and I had to tell him the whole truth!” She explains and sighs.

“Couldn’t even talk to them before the challenge either.” She adds, with a pout on her lips.

“How do I get myself out of this predicament?” She mumbles and closes her eyes.

“Well if you really wanna get out of it, you’d need to make a choice.” Gwen suggests, making her groan.

“And you need to be honest to them both!” Dana says with MJ adding, “yourself too babe.”

“God it’s fucking strict out here.” Jazmin jokes, making you fight back a laugh.

She grins and opens her eyes again, “I think I know what to do…”

You all waited for her expectantly but she just shook her head, “y’all can see afterwards!”

“Lame!”

“Fair.”

“Good luck.”

“Wait what did he tell you?” Val asks and your eyes widen.

“After the kiss! That’s right!” Dana exclaims, and turns to look at Jazmin.

She’s quiet for a second then clears her throat, mumbling, "I did miss you."

“You’re still in!!” Val shouts and she whines, “but Jordan-“

“Bitch no buts! You can’t have both!” Val says and the other girls agree.

“Talk to them both and figure it out! I don’t think they’ll both be waiting for too long…” Gwen adds, making MJ point a finger.

“We saw how some of them acted with our girl over here coming in, that could happen any second, again!” MJ comments, motioning to you making you chuckle, “she’s got a point!”

“Should I pull them now-“ Jazmin starts but Dana interrupts, “one at a time girl.”

“I know that! Okay, okay I know what to do…” she mumbled and stood up.

“Wish me luck!” She exclaims with a nervous look on her face.

“Good luck!” You all say in unison, making her sigh.

She walked away and you luckily had the perfect view to see her make her way over to the swingset, "how's she look?" Gwen whispers.

"Nervous." you whisper back.

MJ sits up and moves over to sit on your bean bag with you. She wraps an arm around you and puts her sunglasses on, "oh she's bricking it."

"It hasn't even been that long…" Val grumbles and you nod, "it’s barely going to be a week…"

"True but the thing is, our girl has told both boys the same exact thing and that's a bit fucked.." MJ explains and you all murmur in agreement.

She finally got in front of them and first pulled Jordan, "she pulled Jordan!" you whisper and they gasp.

"Is she cutting him off?" Dana whispers and you shrug, "could be either way."

Gwen looked behind her to catch a peek but MJ kicked her leg, “don’t look!! It’ll be obvious!”

She groans and looks back at you two, Val also fighting the urge to look. Dana was on the side so she could get away with a peek.

“I hope it’s not too bad.” Dana murmurs and turns back to the group.

“So Gwen’s the only one that actually kissed her couple…” Val teases, making you all laugh.

“Dude I can’t believe you picked Pete.” Gwen laughs and MJ chimes in, “I can! His ass just had to fucking drop you though.”

“He did that shit on purpose too!! Like damnnn.” She says then chuckles, “but it was fun so I didn’t mind.”

“Yeah? Did you have fun splashing me too?” Gwen teases and she quickly nods, “that was the best part!”

Gwen playfully rolled her eyes and then smiled, “well, speaking of, I liked our kiss.”

“Sure looked like it.” MJ teases and she waves her off, “yep, I swear they get better every time.”

“MJ how was your kiss?” Val asks and she snorts, “it was a peck at best.”

“Hey, that counts for something.” Val teases earning herself an eye roll, “whatever. It was amazing.”

She then turned to you, “how was yours?”

“It was good. He’s a great kisser.” You respond and she nods, “he really fucking is.”

“Dana?” She asks and Dana bites her lip.

You give her a look and she cleared her throat, “it was good.”

You all looked at each other, MJ took off her sunglasses then leaned in to really look at her. Her body language was normal but nothing about her tone was normal.

Your eyes widened but before you could say anything she held her hand up, “I didn’t even say shit!!” You whined and she shook her head.

“I just saw the four of you have the exact same reaction and it’s not all that- it was a really good kiss but I think it’s just because I haven’t had that.." she quickly explains and you hum.

"So… what?" you ask and she shrugs, "I don't know.. kinda had my head spinning."

You're all silent and you looked at Val, who was fighting hard to stay quiet. The other two just gave her a look while you just kept your mouth shut.

"In a good way or…." Gwen asks and she slowly nods, "but it's not a big deal-"

"Are you serious-" Val shouts then quickly throws her hand over her mouth.

She moves it then mumbles, "my bad…"

"Food for thought then…" she says and Dana just chuckles, "food for thought."

You all stayed there, getting off the beanbags and fully laying down on the towels to get a tan in since the sun was still out. After ten minutes laying down on your back, you all flipped over onto your stomachs.

Suddenly, you're all told you could go inside to shower and you sat up, took off your heels and sprinted as fast as you could. The other girls yelled behind you but you were already in the kitchen.

After the same shower routine, you were already growing used to, you went into the dressing room to find the girls looking at dresses. You sat down and grabbed a blow dryer, starting to dry your hair when Val held out a dress for you.

It was a red and white plaid mini dress, with matching straps and a tiny red bow between the cups. It was very cute.

You gave her a thumbs up and a grin which made her cheer, "YES!"

You laughed and continued getting ready, while they continued their search. Time passed by quickly and with getting tea from the girls, it flew by.

Jazmin had her chats but apparently didn't make her decision yet, only apologized to them both because she felt bad.

She said she'd tell them her decision after the cheers which only made her a nervous wreck but she had her choice ready. Just didn't want to spill that.

You all walked out of the dressing room and went downstairs to hear the loud hollers of the guys. Everyone walks out together and into the bedroom when Val starts running.

Peter B gasps and quickly follows behind her, wanting to beat her to the drinks again.

The rest of you just calmly left the bedroom and walked out, complimenting each other's outfits as you went into the kitchen. You followed everyone down, holding onto Miguel's arm for support to not fall. You got to the table and Val handed you your drink while Peter B gave Miguel his.

"Alright, who hasn't done the cheers yet?" Peter asked and you looked at them.

"I'll do it!" MJ chirps with a smile.

"Here is to long lasting friendships, fun games, and friends who kiss!!!" she yells, making a handful of you burst out laughing but cheering along too.

After everyone clinked glasses, Jazmin immediately pulled Jordan and they went off to the spot by the pool. You looked over at Danny, who was next to you, "you doing alright?"

He nods and takes a sip of his drink, "I am, thanks. It's been a stressful few days, can't lie…"

"Can imagine! But it'll be easier soon." you respond and he nods, giving you a small smile.

Gwen snatched Peter and took him to the swingset, Val and Dana took the chairs of the table, and MJ pulled you away from Miguel to take some pictures.

She made Danny take them as you posed together then you did the same for the four guys that were left.

"Y'all look so good!" you compliment and take a good dozen pictures on Danny's phone.

"You're one to talk." Raúl says with a cheeky grin making you chuckle.

"That’s a nice dress." Peter B chimes in, giving you a smile.

"Thanks! Val chose it." you say and hand Danny his phone back.

"It's givinggg… picnic table." Peter B says, making you fight back a laugh, "excuse me-"

Raúl cuts in, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and waves him off, "he meant because you're a snack."

"You did not-" you snicker, and MJ snorts, “actually the saying is she’s a whole meal.”

“Mary Jane I swear to god-“ Raúl groans, making her giggle.

Suddenly she grabs your arm and whisks you away to the daybeds. “Time for some girl time! God, I forget how corny these guys can be.” She jokes as you both sit down on the same bed, side by side.

“So what’s up?” You ask and she chuckles, “just wanted to know how you were feeling.”

“I’m feeling really good.” You say and she leans in, “how’d you sleep last night?”

“Like a baby. Again.” You reply and chuckle.

“How were the cuddles?” She asks and you grin, “way better than hugging a pillow.”

“That is amazing to hear! That man is like a teddy bear so it doesn’t surprise me.” She teases then gives you a wink.

“Yeah you’re not wrong! How was your peck with him?” You ask and she chuckles, “it was nothing-“

“Oh god wait- if you didn’t want me to I am so sorry- shit I thought of Pete first-“ she started to ramble but you caught her off.

“Girl don’t worry about it! It was a challenge and we just got together, I wouldn’t have been crazy even if you did kiss him.” You reassure her and she sighs.

“Well that’s good to know and eh maybe next challenge I’ll go for it! Not with Mig necessarily but with any of them.” She explains and you nod.

“You should! I mean it’s early days for everyone.” You say and she nods, “true.”

“Can I know something?” She asks and you shrug, “maybe.”

She chuckles and scoots closer to you, “did you purposely aim for Raúl?”

You look at her, her facial expression telling you she was dead serious so you shook your head, “I actually didn’t think it would be hard.”

“Ahhh so he was just lucky today?” She asks and you chuckle, “I guess so.”

“When I tell you it looked like he was praying that you would miss Mig’s face-“ she starts then snorts.

“That shit was so funny because then when it did land on his, he looked soooo fucking happy.” She finishes, making your eyes widen, “really?”

“Really.”

You’re sitting there in silence, not sure what to make of this but not being entirely surprised by that.

“Y’know he told me something last night- but don’t tell anyone!” You whisper-shout and she quickly nods, “your secret is safe with me.”

“When we were saying our good nights, he said that just because I’m with Miguel that that wouldn’t stop him from still talking to me.” You explained and she chuckled.

“That sounds about right!” She jokes, making you giggle.

“I like that he’s still persistent because I just know he’ll snatch you up for a chat soon if Mig doesn’t.” She responds with a hint of playfulness in her tone.

“I’m still spoiled with choices, technically. Now I don’t know how I wanna go about this because I’ve enjoyed getting to know them both but I did choose Miguel.” You admit, making her turn to be face to face with you.

“Buttttt it’s also too soon for me to put my eggs in one basket...” You quickly add and she nods, “that’s an understatement.”

“To be fair I feel Jazmin had to make a choice because she was technically giving both false hope.” She huns then shrugs.

“So as long as there’s communication and honesty, what’s the worst that could happen?” She replies and shrugs.

Well the worst that could happen would be those men causing a fight in the villa. But who are we kidding, who wouldn’t want to see that front row and center?

The sun was starting to set and so far there hasn’t been any weird vibes in the villa. You had a chat with MJ, Peter B, and Miguel, about ideal first dates, favorite foods, and.. body counts.

“I mean we’re all getting to know each other-“ Peter B defended himself but MJ continued grilling.

“I feel like it shouldn’t matter-“ she started to say and he cut her off, “it doesn’t.”

“But because we’re in here, I think it makes sense to be a topic of conversation.” He stated and turned to Miguel, “doesn’t that make sense?”

You turned to look at him but he instantly put his hands up, “you're on your own bud.”

“You are an awful friend, O’Hara.” He scoffed and playfully rolled his eyes.

“I mean we’ll probably find that out in a game soon right?” You asked and Miguel quickly nodded, “you’ll find out soon enough.”

He sighed and nodded, “I guess.”

You also had a conversation with Danny and Peter, talking all things music and tattoos.

“Be honest, how bad did this one hurt?” Danny asked and pointed to the long tattoo he had on his bicep.

It was one tree branch with many flowers branching out. It was very neat and detailed.

“Honestly not too bad! Nearly passed out.” He said and you blinked.

You and Danny looked at each other then back at him, “oh well I fully passed out when I got my first one. So it was an improvement.”

You laughed and shrugged, “then that definitely is an improvement! Especially since it’s bigger!”

He nodded and smiled, “it was worth it though, looks sick.”

He lifted the shirt of his sleeve up and you took a step closer to take a look. You were going to lift a hand up to touch it but realized your mistake, “can I touch it?”

He nods and you bring a hand up, running your fingers over the pretty design. The handiwork was stunning and it blended well into the rest of them on his forearm.

“Y’know when girls like color in their man's tattoos with eyeshadow?” You asked and he raised an eyebrow, “Gwen’s gotta do that.”

“It’s like a coloring book.” You joked and Danny chuckled, “does look like it'd be fun.”

“Maybe, never thought of doing that.” Peter responded and nodded, “I’ll bring it up to her.”

“Okay and because I thought of it, I wanna help!” You grinned and he just chuckled then nodded.

You also surprisingly had a girls chat with Val, who told you it was absolutely okay to graft on Raúl, as long as you were both honest with her.

With that you realized you may as well also have a conversation with Raúl since you didn’t know where his head was at. You wanted to hear his thoughts out of curiosity of her bringing it up in the first place and to also decide how you’d move because it was very early.

So that was where you were heading.

You went into the kitchen, watching Peter and Jordan play a game with some cheezits while Raúl was off to the side watching.

He saw you walk up and gave you a smile, “hey!”

“Hi, can I pull you?” You ask and he quickly nods.

“Dude it's your turn-“ Jordan tries to say but Raúl waves him off, “it’s fine, just play without me.”

You snicker and walk off with Raúl on your tail, “wanna go firepit?” You ask and he nods.

He catches up to you and checks you out for a solid three seconds, “You look gorgeous tonight.” He compliments, making you smile.

He was grinning ear to ear, making you fight the urge to tease him about it. Instead you chuckled and led the way to the firepit. “Thank you! You look very handsome yourself.” You compliment back as you both sit down.

You both got comfortable, turned to face each other, and already had the eye contact down. His eyes looked pretty up close but you quickly snapped out of it because it wasn't the time for that.

You decided to start, “I just wanted to have a proper chat, figured why not since we didn’t have a full conversation after the recoupling.”

"Yeah the chat before bed didn't count." he says, making you chuckle, "it didn't?"

He shook his head and shrugged, "too short for my liking."

You bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing, instead nodding while he grinned, "so what'd you wanna talk about?"

"Where's your head at?" you ask before quickly adding, "because Val pulled me and i figured I'd get some answers… to see what's up."

He hums and scoots closer to you, nonchalantly shrugs, "I am more than happy to be with Val."

You nodded, unsure where this was going, absolutely thinking it’d go in another direction. He chuckled then joked, "I didn't plan there to be a 'but' following that."

You chuckled and he played with his cup, looking down at it for a few seconds before looking back at you, "but… I'd still like to talk to you."

"If you want to, of course." he quickly adds, making you nod.

"It's hard because I feel like I should focus on Miguel.. as you've said, it's early days and I don't think I wanna be one to just lay all my eggs in one basket..." you explain and he nods.

"I think I wanna try to talk to the both of you, just enjoying my time here with no pressure to just stick to one thing yet y'know?" you say and he nods again.

"That is absolutely fair. I'd say the ball is in your court.." he responds and you ask, "is it really? Because it could technically be on both of us."

"Mmm more so in yours… kinda." he mumbles then shakes his head. "Actually I don't know- I think… well, sort of- ugh I think you're making me lose it."

"Me? What have I done to do that?" you tease and he just sighs, hiding back a smile but failing miserably.

He was smiling and shaking his head in disbelief, "you're just… being you."

You laughed then matched his expression, a genuine smile on your face with the usual blush creeping up your face.

His grin was cute, it made you ecstatic that you were the cause, and that this conversation went in the right direction.

You would've felt like a fool if you didn't explore it, let alone if you didn't have this conversation in the first place. And just like last night, you were checking him out, not even trying to hide it.

He was wearing a navy blue button up, the top three unbuttoned, with black pants and some nice shoes. He also had on two gold necklaces that were sparkling from the reflection of the fire.

All in all, he looked good.

All of a sudden, he cleared his throat and with a straight face asked, "so did you purposely choose my face in the game today?"

You just scoffed and playfully rolled your eyes, "I didn't! I actually tried but it was harder than it looked."

"Mhm…" he hums, raising an eyebrow at you.

You rolled your eyes again making him laugh, "hey, you didn't deny it!"

"You're full of yourself." you tease and he shrugged, "hm I don't know.. I think you might like it."

"I think you're crazy.." you murmur and he came up with a quick rebuttal, "mmm right.. yet you still kissed me."

"Well it was a challenge." you tease, holding back your laughter.

"Oh it was but I didn't see you end it early like how Pete, MJ, or even your boy Mig did." he argues back making you shrug, "I didn't wanna be rude-"

"Rude-" he snickered, finally making you burst out laughing.

You let out a fit of giggles, which only had him showing off those pearly whites. Not wanting to give him what he wants, you shook it off quickly, putting on a straight face then muttering, "shut up."

He only chuckled and sighed, "you're cute when you get mad."

"I'm not mad and you're actually so obnoxious." you mumble, your face growing hotter.

"And yet, you're still here. That's really funny isn't it?' he teases and you teased right back, "yeah sooo fucking funny…."

He fought back a laugh then couldn't help himself and snickered, "you're really funny."

“It’s one of my best qualities.” You reply and he grins, “I can tell.”

"God, are you obsessed with me or something?" you joke, making him instantly reply, "oh after tonight I just might be."

You burst out laughing and quickly cover your face with your hands, feeling something beyond the words flustered and shy.

You then felt a hand on your arm, "no c'mon, keep that same energy going."

He moved your right hand away from your face making you fight back, trying to keep it in its place while you squealed. He laughed and then gave up, letting you go while you attempted to calm yourself down.

Your stomach was hurting from all the laughing and your face from all the smiling you've been done. You took deep breaths then you moved your hands down and he gave you a wide grin, "welcome back."

"Thanks, appreciate it." you giggle and let out a sigh.

"Our third kiss was really good, by the way." he says and you shake your head, “stop.”

“Why?” He asks and tilts his head.

“Stop.” You mumble, butterflies going wild in your stomach with just the thought of it.

“No, tell me why.” He teases and you bite your lip, remaining stubborn.

“It’s okay, I know you agree.” He murmurs, making you shrug, “who knows.”

He chuckles and sighs, “well I’ll be counting down the minutes for our next one, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

“You’re crazy.” You tease and he nods, “maybe just a little.”

"More like a lot.." you murmur, making him grin.

"It's okay, we all need a little craziness in our lives." he responds and leans back.

"Well you're not wrong-" you start with him quickly interrupting, "about the kiss right?"

You scoff and playfully roll your eyes, "if that helps you sleep better at night."

"I honestly think you'd help me sleep better at night." he murmurs and you take a long sip of your wine.

You put the cup down on the space between you two and shake your head at him, "you're trouble.. and you're not even a bombshell anymore."

"Gotta always keep everyone on their toes." he replies and shrugs.

"Are you naturally this flirty?" you ask, making him chuckle, "only to those I'm interested in."

"Mmm interesting." you murmur and nod, "I think you're just a flirty guy."

"Two things can be true." he says with a wide grin and you laugh, "fair enough."

You both just sat there and stared at each other down, it started becoming a staring competition. You were staying firm and committed to the game while he straightened up and leaned closer to you, trying to distract you.

His eyes were now wide making him look like a psychopath. He raised his eyebrows at you and you just shook your head, ignoring him making him pout. Now he looked even more crazy which just made it ten times funnier.

All of a sudden, you hear footsteps come up the firepit and as much as you wanted to turn to look at who it was, you didn't look. You could see a body out of your peripherals walking closer and that's when you heard a laugh.

You remained the same, eyes locked on his and vice versa when you saw a face to your left, then out of nowhere they brought their hands up and they clapped in between your faces.

You sadly blinked and you screamed out then whined, looking to your left to see Miguel.

Meanwhile, Raúl burst out laughing and stood up to attack Miguel in a bear hug while you pouted and watched. They celebrated as if you weren't there before finally turning to you and Raúl gave you the biggest grin.

"You guys are mean." you pout and he sticks his tongue out at you.

"Now I'm leaving!" you joke and pretend to stand up.

"NOOO!!" he yells then shakes his head.

"Well I did come here to snatch her away…" Miguel mumbles, making you snicker.

"You snooze, you lose Raúl!" you tease and he playfully rolled his eyes at you.

"It's fine, I was getting a bit hungry anyway." he says and shrugs, "I'll catch you guys later."

He offers you his hand so you grabbed his hand then stood up. He let you go then gave Miguel a pat on the back before making his way to the kitchen.

You look up at him and ask, "where to?"

"Daybeds?" he offers and you nod, reaching down to grab your cup.

He then grabbed your hand and walked straight to the daybeds, something about that action doing a little something to your brain. You followed him and heard Peter B’s hollers from somewhere but didn’t know where they came from.

Miguel completely ignored him and kept walking. Once you got there, he let go of your hand, sat down on the left daybed, then scooted over to give you some space.

His back was against the pillows but the worst part was his shoes on the bed. You looked at him with a face of disgust and he just waved you off and pats on the spot next to him, “c’mon sit down.”

“Shoes… on.. the.. bed..” you blink and he chuckles, “it’s fine, come here.”

You shiver and carefully plop down, making sure your dress was fine and covering as much of your thighs as it could. You stretched your legs out but then moved to the side so they were hanging off the edge.

He got closer to you, wrapping his right arm around your shoulder making you glance up at him. He had a smirk on his face and he shook his head as he spoke, “you’re amazing, that was a green flag.”

You chuckle then shrug, “I can’t believe you did that.”

“If my mom had one look at this she’d probably smack me to the next life.” He joked, making you snicker, “and it’d be sooo deserved.”

He playfully rolled his eyes and brought you closer, you leaned against his shoulder and fixed your dress again. “It’s not that short is it?” He asks and you laugh.

You let it go and pull back to look at him, “it really feels like it. It is cute though.”

“It’s very cute, you look beautiful.” He compliments, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Thank youuu-“ you murmur and lean against his shoulder again just to hide.

“It’s my favorite color too.” He says and you gasp, “really?”

You look at him again and he nods, “mhm so you wearing it makes this like ten times better.”

You chuckle and he grins, “and if it wasn’t before, trust me it would be just because of you.”

You took a deep breath then chuckled, “oh my lord-“

His grin grew even wider as you felt your entire face get warmer than it already was. “Hm not surprising that it’s also a good color on your pretty face.” He murmurs and your breath hitches.

You quickly looked away and lean on his shoulder, hiding your face with a hand. He squeezed your shoulder and you heard him chuckle, “cute.”

“This is crazy, Mig.” You mumble, earning yourself a laugh, “not at all, gorgeous.”

You chuckle, moving your hand, and take a deep breath, remembering what you wanted to tell him. Unsure how to start, you asked a question first, “we’re still open right?”

He laughs then nods, “absolutely. Don’t worry I’m not the type to get crazy jealous, as long as you fill me in, we’re fine.”

You smile then reply, “I just figured it’d be easier to talk to other people early on rather than when we’re attached to the hip.”

“I agree with that! I won’t ever blame you for wanting to explore, that’s what the whole point of this is.” He says and you nod, “and the same goes to you! Just good communication is ideal, which I’ll definitely be giving you.”

He nods, giving you a smile and wanting to swiftly move on, you ask, "do you have any siblings?"

He snorts, nodding, then replies, "I have a brother, Gabriel, he's twenty three and might just be a mini-me."

"Really?" you ask, eyes a little widened, and he slowly nods, "hey don't get any ideas.."

"I'm not! I just think it's cute when siblings look alike." you defend yourself and he hums, "okay sure."

“He really does look a lot like me though. Main difference is our nose, I’ve got moms. And his hair is shorter.” He explains and you nod.

“Are you guys close?” You ask and he quickly nods, a smile tugging on his lips, “he’s one of my best friends.”

You smile and shoot him with your next question, "mm what's your favorite food?"

"Siempre fue, y siempre será pozole." he responds, making you sit up, "Ahhh yo tambien!! Okay rojo o verde?" (It always was and always will be pozole) (Red or green?)

"Mmm cual te gusta mas a ti?" he asks and you grin, "el rojo." (Which do you like more?) (the red)

"Igual! Pero si mi mama hace de verde también me lo como, y hasta de dos platos a veces." he explains making you giggle, "nomas dos?" (Same! But if my mom makes the green, I'll also eat it and even eat up to two plates sometimes.) (only two?)

"Que esperas que me acabe toda la hoya o que?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at you. (What did you expect me to finish the whole pot or what?)

You burst out laughing and nod, making him snicker – that just added fuel to the fire and you held onto your stomach as you laughed harder. He just grinned and shook his head in disbelief, not believing what he was hearing.

You stopped and coughed, then cleared your throat, looking back at him just to say, "well I mean you're a big guy, you p-probably could-"

The look on his face was enough to send you over the edge again and you covered your mouth, really trying to fight it but it was just so silly. He sighs then smiles as he watches you in awe.

You took a few more seconds then finally calmed down, looking at him again and grinning. He gave you one right back, damn near showing all thirty two teeth as you giggled, "Listen, I wouldn't judge you even if you did."

"I think you're deflecting…" he teases and you pout, "hey it was one time!"

He snickers and looks away from you for a second before turning back to you, "you're unbelievable."

You give him a wide grin, "thank you, I'll take that as a compliment."

"It definitely was." he murmurs and squeezes your shoulder again.

You look away from him and look down at his left hand on his torso to distract yourself then reach over for it and grab it. You first admire the rings then within two seconds play around with them.

He chuckled and said, "try 'em on."

You take the one on his index finger off first, looking at it closely. The design was very intricate, it reminded you of something you could see in a castle or a beautiful painting with a shiny green emerald in the middle. You put it on your index finger and it was way too big, just falling straight off.

You chuckled then grabbed the one on his finger, another gold ring but with la virgencita in the middle. They were both very gorgeous and jaw dropping to the eye. "They're stunning." you mumble and attempt to also put it in.

"Thank you, both presents from my wonderful mami." he responds with a cute smile.

You look at him again and give him one right back, "they're really gorgeous."

You took them off and carefully put them back on his fingers, then let your hand rest on your lap. He had a bright idea so he reached over for your right hand and then lifted it up, he then gave your hand a little clap before properly placing it on yours.

His hand was way bigger but it was very cute. It also brought a different kind of thought but you pushed that away as soon as it entered your head.

He then interlocks your fingers together and it instantly had you feeling shy, but it was such a nice feeling. He rubbed his thumb gently against your skin and you looked up at him, a very shy smile on your lips while he was all grins.

Something in the air changed and you leaned up, with him following your lead and also leaning in. You were the one to make the move and sat up a little, closing your eyes then pressed your lips against his. It was nice and slow for starters, he kissed you back gently, letting the kiss stay that intimate.

He let go of your hand and you then felt it on your jaw, also feeling him move, turning to his side a little. His body nearly covered yours and just the tiny idea of him on top of you sent shivers down your spine. You kissed him back a little harder and he reciprocated, having no trouble at all following your lead and actually liking it.

You then pulled away, making him shake his head, and moving his hand to your chin, bringing you in for another kiss. You kissed back and smiled before he pulled away, leaning his forehead against yours. Your eyes flutter open and his did too, pretty brown eyes just admiring you.

And although we love these sweet moments, there's one party pooper in the villa who doesn't allow them to linger for too long.

"Alright lovebirds, let's go, it's time for bed!" Peter B yelled from the kitchen making Miguel groan.

You chuckle and pull away, getting off the bed then quickly fix your dress before offering him a hand. He scooted closer and accepted, getting up and this time letting you lead the way.

You guys were the last to get inside, some of the guys already changing to their pjs as you quickly let go of his hand. You waved goodbye then walked out of there, the quiet hollers and smacks against him greeting Miguel once the bedroom door was shut.

You were greeted nearly the same way but you quickly grabbed pajamas to escape it. After finishing your last beach hut session of the day, you went to do your nightly routine then changed.

Jazmin ended up waiting for you in the dressing room, quickly keeping you in the loop.

"I chose Danny… I'm pretty sure it's the right choice, it feels right y'know?" she says and you nod, "I know."

"I feel bad- Jordan was so fucking cool and nice about it, god I feel like I don't even deserve him as a friend." she mumbles and you shake your head.

"Don't say that, you do. He's not the type to be a dick about it and I'm sure he'd still want to be your friend." you reassure her and she nods, "thanks, I needed that."

You nod and pull her in for a hug, her instantly accepting it and hugging you back "I'm gonna sleep on the daybed."

"By yourself? Do you want me to go out there with you?" you offer and she pulls away, giving you a warm smile, "It's okay, Val already volunteered but thank you, seriously."

You both then made your way downstairs, giving everyone a goodnight hug and she went outside with Val while you got into bed. Miguel had his arms wide open and you happily climbed into them, letting him hold you as sleep called your name.

#miguel ohara #miguel ohara imagine #across the spiderverse #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o hara #atsv miguel #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara fic #miguel ohara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #spider man 2099 #love island au #meant to be

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shorelinnes · 11 months ago

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social path: lollapalooza

#createskz #bystay #staydaily #usersemily #melontrack #usersa #thestephtag #heyykass #forhanji #stray kids #skz #han #*intro:gifs #struggling to keep my eyes open but... had to gif this...#he's so 😔💕💕💕💕#rockstar 🫶

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aeyumicore · 11 months ago

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misty invasion - hidden motive

━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: zayne x female reader (afab)

━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with some/little plot, porn with feelings

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 3.6k

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, slight spoilers to ‘hidden motive’ (zayne’s misty invasion card), knee humping, titty sucking, titty sucking through clothes, titty nibbling (zayne is a boobie fiend), slight predator and prey, switch!zayne (he’s dom but kinda needy and vulnerable), use of Y/N, sub!reader, unprotected sex, cumming in panties, reader on top

━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: video | ao3 | sylus's version | raf's version | xav's version

━ ✧.˖ A/N: haiiii guyssss i decided to upload the boys’ misty invasion fics one at a time! first up is baby zayne <3 his card inspired me so much, it was so intimate and passionate.

next up will probably be sylus, hopefully will post in maybe 3ish days! I haven’t watched raf’s or xav’s but i have ideas for them. I’m excited to write, i’m praying i don’t burn out…hope you guys enjoy :) love ya’ll! also i am more active on twitter if you guys would like to follow me there, my link is in my masterpost!

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.

✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖

Spontaneity was not something Zayne preferred to indulge in.

He had enough of it in his hectic surgery schedule, so in his personal life he tried to keep things as predictable as possible.

Yet he was graced with an absolute menace of a girlfriend, who, from the second she walked into his life, created chaos in her wake. Always running off on faraway Hunter missions, telling him only after she’d already left. Coming back injured, with a frustratingly adorable and sheepish smile, trying, and failing, to convince him she was fine.

God, you drove him utterly insane.

Which is why now, the normally composed, self-assured, and controlled, chief cardiac surgeon was unraveling at the seams beneath your seemingly innocent touch.

“Why does it smell sweeter than usual?” Zayne’s voice is raspy and breathless from the torrid and heated kiss the two of you had just been locked in. The razor blade and shaving cream had long since been discarded and forgotten.

Before you can respond, he’s pulling your wrist towards his reddened face, making you fall on top of him from your seat on his lap. You’re left straddling his one knee as you fall forward. Your wrist grips the leather recliner cushion by his head to catch you as he cups your lower back, just above your rear, pressing your body deeper into his.

He nuzzles his face into your wrist that's planted beside his head, absolutely enraptured by the scent of your lotion. The scent of you.

Taking another deef lung full of your pheromones mixed with your fruity lotion, his intense hazel eyes desperately seek yours, like he’s conveying his desires with the golden green orbs. You open your mouth to question his unusual behavior, but Zayne’s one step ahead of you. His knee raises to push your backside towards him, making you lose your grip completely and collapse completely atop him.

The recliner chair swings wildly at your combined movements, and you find yourself struggling to steady yourself. In your brief moment of helplessness, Zayne hoists you towards him, burying his face into your chest. His lips find your collarbone instantly, his knee nestled between your thighs to help balance you.

You gasp at his tongue lapping languidly at your fragrant skin, your fingers grasping his shoulders as he sucks at your sensitive collar, no doubt leaving a bruise. His lips dance dangerously close to where your silk camisole hangs off the swell of your breasts.

“Are you taking a break from work?” you ask between your raspy pants. Zayne continues to indulge in your skin, moving lower until his face meets your hardened nipples, separated only by a thin layer of silk. His tongue softly brushes against the soft material of your top, stroking at the swollen peaks through the smooth fabric. His knee grinds into your thighs, craving the warmth and dampness of his most favorite place.

He has to physically pry himself away from your chest, a dusting of deep peach painting his flustered face.

“Do I look like I can work right now?” His question is simple, but the aggressive demand that hides underneath them is urgent, nearly feral. You don’t get a chance to get another word out before he’s sinking back into the warmth of your chest.

This time, his lips close over your entire nipple through the soft silk of your sleeping cami, making you cry out in surprise. Your fingers grip his hair as he absolutely devours you through your top, the silk dampening with his saliva. His teeth come down to graze your sensitive peaks and you have to push him back before you lose yourself to the pleasure.

“...You don’t have to be so intense,” you urge him, despite the clear and inarguable fact that you want more. Clear from the way the panties you’d slept in start to dampen against his bare knee that peeks out from his robe.

Zayne looks unamused, almost sulky, as he mutters, “No working, and not allowed to do anything else…” He looks up at you, mischief briefly flashing across his eyes

He sits up, wrapping his strong arm around your shoulder and bringing you to him in an intimate embrace. You flail forward at his sudden movements, the rocking of the recliner chair making it impossible to find any balance. He takes the opportunity to drive his knee deeper into your core, making you moan lewdly. His chin rests on your bare shoulder, words hot and breathy against your pulsing neck, “Well then…my love, what exactly do you allow me to do?”

His actions make it difficult for you to speak, brain focussing solely on the pleasure he’s both giving you and keeping from you. At your wordless moans of excitement, Zayne continues.

“Will you allow me to do this?” he rocks his knee deeper into you, effectively humping you against his leg. Your nails dig into his muscled back at the unexpected ecstasy, his knee rubbing against your clit in the most sinfully perfect ways.

Zayne hisses at the feeling of the sting of your nails, only making him more desperate to take you right there on his living room chair, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

With his lips at your neck, he slowly and torturously pulls the flimsy straps of your loose top down, until your breasts are pressing against his exposed chest underneath his luxurious bathrobe.

His hands descend to hold your waist firmly, gently pulling you away from his chest so his hungry mouth can find your soft breasts again.

You throw your head backwards when his warm and wet mouth captures your bare skin into its embrace. Zayne is absolutely relentless, bouncing you filthily on his thigh as he absolutely devours your breasts. His teeth and tongue work in tandem to suckle pretty little bruises into the swell of your chest, and around your pert nipples.

Zayne looks up at you from underneath his eyelashes, heated irises drinking in your quivering form atop him. His erection pushes against the feeble restraints of his tied robe, creating a tent in his lap that twitches with anticipation. It brushes against your stomach as he grinds his knee into you, giving him just enough friction to need to bite into your breast to hold back his desperate moans.

You cling to him, trusting him to take all control of your body and of your pleasure. Your nails continue to draw angry red welts into his back, as you feel the familiar coiling of ecstasy in your gut.

You tap desperately on his shoulders, not wanting to make a mess in your panties that are already sticking to your wet folds.

“Z-Zayne, wait I —”

He brings his thumb to your lips, pressing softly against your parted lips, all the while his own lips never leave your aching tits. Against them, he mumbles, “Don’t deny me. Please.”

You’re briefly snapped out of the mind numbing pleasure of your quickly approaching orgasm at the sound of his plea, bordering on a feral demand. It’s so rare to hear him so unraveled and desperate, to hear him demanding things from you. A man who never asked anything of anyone, especially not of you, the one person he treasured more than life itself. It’s so rare and raw that you can’t help but want to give him everything he wants.

You bury your face into the top of his head, his addicting scent invading your senses, and you kiss him gently, “Never, I would never deny you.”

Zayne inhales sharply, groaning at your sweet words, ”Good girl.” He pulls you down fully on top of him again, the leather chair reclining until it’s nearly flat. Your ass is arched into the air, your face pressed into his chest, as his knee pushes into you with renewed vigor.

His lips find themselves sucking urgently at your nipples again, his knee moving faster, wanting to see his beautiful girl come undone all over his thighs. His tongue lathers tortuous circles around your hardened and swollen peaks, soothing the areas in which his teeth bite down softly.

“Let me see you, love. Please. I haven’t gotten to feel you since you ran off into danger without telling me, again.”

Your heart clenched as you realized that was where all this desperation and vulnerability was coming from. You want to apologize, but his unforgiving knee against your weeping cunt made it nearly impossible to get the syllables out.

“I-I’m – nnghh – m’sorry.”

His hand roughly grabs your chin, turning you to level with his smoldering hazel eyes. His voice is gruff and inquisitive, eyebrows raised in doubt, “Are you, sweetheart?”

You whine at his words, his actions only becoming more relentless, as if forcing the responses he wants out of you, “I am!”

The corner of his lips curl up, so faint you can barely see it. An arrogance Zayne so rarely lets show.

“Then show me. Show me how sorry you are.” With each demand, his leg drives harshly into your clit. You nod vigorously, eager to please him.

His darkened green eyes cling to yours, his voice deceptively calm and soothing, “Say it, love.”

You want to respond but the way he’s punctuating his every word with a hard intentional thrust of his knee into your aching cunt makes it impossible to do anything but moan lewdly into his ear, your head hanging down with your hair falling over your eyes.

He pinches your abused nipple, guiding your eyes back to his demanding hazel ones, the golden flecks glowing brightly as they savor the sight of you.

“I-I’m – unghh – s-sorry. Should’ve told you. I’ll be good, just-just let me cum f’you!” You bury your face into his neck, embarrassed by the words coming out of your mouth but unable to stop them all the same.

“Let me see you,” he grunts. When you lift your head, bleary eyes fixing on his, he smiles. It's faint but effervescently warm.

“That’s my girl. Now tell me, hm? How is my beautiful girl going to make it up to me?”

Your eyes fill with tears, overwhelmed by the pleasure his knee brings you, and the raw feelings that are masked behind his lewd words. His facade of filthy demands that hide the suffocating emotions, the same emotions he’d felt when he saw your name on the list of hunters dispatched to the wanderer quarantine zone. Emotions that he was now taking out on your ever-so responsive body.

“Anything you want Zayne, anything,” you gasp, your eyes locked into his as he continues to hump his knee into you,

His breath catches audibly at your words, pulling your chin towards him to capture your lips in a raw and passionate kiss, one that felt like it might stop time and space as you knew it.

At his intensely possessive lips, his throaty demands, his insistent knee wedged into your cunt, it isn’t long before you come undone all over his knee. You cum with a strangled cry, your fingers digging crescents into his muscled shoulders. Your eyes squeeze shut at the feeling of the filthy dampness against the fabric of your panties. Zayne groans at the angelic sight of your face contorted into pure pleasure, his erection painfully hard against his silken robe, pressed into your quivering belly. The heavenly vision of you cumming was almost enough to have him erupting right against your stomach.

“That’s it my love, just like that,” Zayne coos as you cum over his knee, still rocking gently into you as he helps you ride out the waves of your ecstasy. His slender fingers rub soothing circles into the small of your back, cooling your burning skin.

“So good, so good for me,” he murmurs into your hair, your head resting on his shoulders as the post-orgasm tremors come and go. His lips press into your scalp, the moment feeling absolutely and idyllically perfect.

You’re so blissed out you almost don’t feel him shifting beneath you, slender fingers pulling your soaked panties to the side. It isn’t until you feel the all-too familiar feeling of his fat leaking cockhead nestled between your folds, right at the entrance to your most sensitive parts, that your bleary eyes open.

You watch him, cock in his fist, swiping up and down your drenched lips, head hung down in pleasure as he watches the way your pussy quite literally invites him in. A thin layer of sweat glistens on his furrowed forehead, his restraint hanging on by a thread as he tries to calm himself before he burrows into you like an absolute animal.

You grab him by his chin, guiding him to look up at you. You take his throbbing manhood into your own fingers, in place of his. He stares at you heatedly, your languid actions driving him to the edge of insanity. Your body quivers as his cockhead catches on your clit, your body still reeling from the orgasm you’d just experienced on his knee.

Zayne’s hand encompasses yours, your joined palms holding his aching cock at the base. He repeats his plea from earlier, his voice raspy and breathless, “Show me.”

His desperation makes you bite your lip in anticipation, and you nod before sinking down onto his thick member. Your body grapples with the stretch as you slide further and further down, as Zayne writhes below you, panting rapidly and fingers digging into your waist.

“You’re so damn perfect,” he rasps, fingers bruising your hips with the intensity in which they grab you, “Give me more, please love.”

You grin at his rare pleas, teasing him by stopping halfway, not letting him enter you fully. His desperate moans and grunts make you giggle, and you relish in the way his large hands hold you so possessively, in the way only you are able to make him lose control.

Zayne chuckles darkly at your teasing antics, “You don’t sound very apologetic, sweetheart.” He raises his eyebrow at you, in a playful warning. You open your mouth to speak, but it’s cut off with a scream when he slams you down on his thick length, his strong grip pulling you down until your ass meets his thighs.

The impact of your thighs against Zayne’s lap is sinful. Zayne groans at the way he can feel the globes of your ass shake against him, your pussy clenching to accommodate the sudden stretch. And Zayne doesn’t even let you ride him, instead using the raw strength of his arms and thighs to bob you up and down his length, in a rhythm that had you seeing white.

“Nnghh – P-Please Zayne!” you plead, but for what you’re not even sure. You certainly don’t want him to stop or slow down. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, holding on while he bounces you like you weigh absolutely nothing.

Zayne grunts in response, too lost in the feeling of how your walls cling to him, how your body responds to his touch and thrusts like he owns you.

“Always — hah — throwing yourself — fuck! — into danger. Without telling me,” he grits out, his thrusts into you harsh and passionate all at the same time. You can tell by his tone that he’s more hurt than he is angry about you running off to the frontlines of a nearby wanderer quarantine. The deep timbre of his voice conveys more worry and vulnerability than it does domination and accusation.

Your heart flutters at how adorably pouty Zayne was being, in his own way. It was rare for him to act on his emotions like this, and it reminded you of how far the two of you had come. His hands gripped you forcibly, almost as if he was afraid you’d disappear on him again. His face buried into your chest, savoring your intoxicating scent like it was the air he needed to survive. The way your warm plush skin tasted on his tongue and felt against his canines.

So you let him throw you around like a fucktoy, letting him feel how absolutely and irrevocably his, you were. You held him tightly to your chest, kissing the shell of his ear as he rutted into you like a madman, suckling on your breasts like he thought you might lactate for him. The blend of possessive domination and raw neediness was driving you insane.

Zayne tears himself away from your chest, looking up at you with heated expectation, his eyes hazy with animalistic desire, “Nothing to say, Y/N?” He punctuates his question with a harsh thrust that prods against your g-spot, all the way to your cervix.

You gasp out, almost choking for air, “M’sorry Zayne. I-I’ll make it up t’y-you.” His fingers grip you tighter as he relentlessly bounces you on his lap, his fat cock bullying into your g spot. Your teeth dig into your lip as you feel your cunt trembling, close to release.

Zayne nestles his face into the area where your neck meets your collarbone, gasping out as you get increasingly tighter, until it feels like he’s suffocating with pleasure.

“Let me cum in you,” he growls, moving back to your chest, nipping at the swell of your breasts, lapping at a reddened bruise he’d unwittingly left there. Zayne normally wasn’t keen on these juvenile displays of affection, leaving hickeys like a horny highschooler. But something about the way you constantly threw yourself into the face of danger for others, left him uncharacteristically uncontrollable and unrestrained.

“Let me leave my mark in you so you know better than to go running off into danger without me again.”

A string of whimpers escapes your mouth at his possessive yet sensitive words, clearly still miffed at the memory of your injured state after saving the pair of young siblings in the quarantine zone. Your talented, self-controlled, god-like surgeon, falling apart at the seams, for you.

It’s all enough to have you at the cusp of another mind-bending orgasm, your eyes rolling up as you try to warn him, “Z-Zayne, c-close.”

Zayne chuckles as you warn him. How adorable you were to think he needed to be told, as if he didn’t know your body like the back of his hand. That he couldn’t feel the telltale way your pussy pulsed and quivered around his cock, so tightly it threatened to break him.

“Look at me, my love. I need to see you.” He rams up into you, hands possessively on your hips, bringing you down forcefully with each upward thrust. You focus your eyes on him, eyelids hooded with an exhausted pleasure.

Through your blurry vision, you can see that Zayne is close too. His jaw ticks dangerously, teeth grit to hold the swears back. His golden emerald eyes meet yours, and he smiles, his fingers threading into the back of your head.

“Just like that, look at me when you cum,” he demands, pulling your face forward to capture your lips in a final kiss that would have you tumbling down the cliff of ecstasy. His tongue demands entry, teasing the seam of your lips. His fingers cup your face, thumb stroking your cheekbone.

You moan into his mouth as your body succumbs to yet another orgasm, your fingernails scraping into his back. Zayne groans into you as the sting of your nails against his skin intensifies the pleasure of your pussy practically wringing his cock dry, forcing the orgasm out of him.

It’s a passionate and furious gnashing of tongue and skin, his thighs, wet with your release, pounding up into you. Your combined whimpers of pleasure mix with the wet smacks of your ass against his thighs, creating the most sinful blanket of lust-filled ecstasy in Zayne’s living room.

His seed erupts inside you, hot, plenty, and demanding. Demanding to be inside you. Demanding to claim you.

Zayne’s thrusts slow, but don’t stop, plugging you completely full of him. He finally pulls away from your lips, breathing heavily as goosebumps of overstimulation litter his skin. He keeps going until you tap his shoulders in surrender. He chuckles, lifting you easily off of him, removing himself from you.

Your thighs quiver as you remain seated on Zayne’s lap, his fingers rubbing delicate circles on your waist. His lips brush gentle kisses on your collar, savoring the moment of intimacy and adoration that falls over the two of you.

Zayne shifts so that he can look at you, cupping your chin gently in his fingers.

“How are you feeling Y/N?” His deep voice is filled with concern, eyes searching yours, “Was I too…enthusiastic?”

You giggle tiredly, your voice filled with playful teasing, “Maybe a bit. But I loved it. I love you.”

Zayne chuckles, bringing your face back down to rest on his chest, his bare skin peeking through the robe that had become untied amidst all the movement. He cradles your head against his body, his arms secure and protective against you, his lips pressing kisses into the top of your head.

“Can you blame me?” He presses his lips into the space below your ear, leaving a trail of kissing down your neck and along your shoulders.

“When you’re constantly worried about the woman you love…it can leave one a bit pent up.”

His lips on your singed skin has you shivering against him, your fingers trailing up and down his chest, “And are you still…pent up?”

The corner of Zayne’s lips quirk up, the blood rushing back south as he feels you writhe against his most fleeting touches. Always so responsive to his touch.

Zayne uses one hand to guide your chin up towards him, his smile hungry and affectionate all at the same time. His other hand holds yours, and you jolt off his chest when he wraps your fingers around something wet, hot, and hard.

“You could say that.”

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or others. please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.

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blueberrisdove-sideblog · 3 months ago

Text

꒰ঌ ໒꒱. ） WHAT ARE YA LOOKN’ AT ?

－ℱ）paring : anaxa, phainon, aventurine, aglaea, mydei x f!reader

－ℱ）warnings : nsfw/smut, creampie, scissoring with aglaea, c*mplay, man handling, size kink, nipple play, boob obsession, hair pulling, chocking, biting and dumbification in aglaea’s part!

－ℱ）synopsis : they keep staring at your tits? (mdni)

－ℱ）note : not proof read!! header is a doujinshi and you can find it on X from : sakuranotomoru !!

( 𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐗𝐀 )

You noticed it again.

The way Anaxagoras kept staring. His gaze, sharp and unashamed, lingered far too long on your chest—tracking every small movement, every shift of fabric that strained against your curves. He wasn’t even trying to be discreet.

You finally snapped. "Why do you keep staring at my chest?"

He didn’t flinch, didn’t look away. Instead, a slow, knowing smirk curled his lips. "Because you make it impossible not to."

You huffed, crossing your arms—a mistake. The motion only pushed your tits together, and his gaze flickered lower, dark with amusement.

"Anaxa," you warned, but before you could say anything else, he moved.

He was fast, deceptively strong despite his slender frame. His long fingers wrapped around your wrist, pulling you forward until you were flush against him. The heat of his body was unmistakable, his breath fanning over your ear as he whispered, "You expect me to resist something so tempting?"

His hands found your tits, cupping them through your clothes, thumbs brushing over your nipples. You gasped, shivering under his touch.

"You do this without even realizing," he murmured, voice thick with hunger. "Walking around, teasing me… and now you're acting so innocent?"

Your protest died on your tongue when he pushed you back against the nearest surface. His lean frame pressed against yours, long fingers tracing down your waist before yanking your clothes aside.

"Let me show you exactly what you’ve been doing to me."

Before you could respond, he spread your thighs, his fingers teasing at your soaked cunt. He chuckled, soft and mocking. "Already so wet," he mused. "Was it the way I looked at you? Or were you hoping I’d do this all along?"

You whined, barely able to process anything before he lined himself up—his cock hard, thick, pressing against your entrance.

"You can take it," he murmured.

Then he thrust in, deep and unforgiving, stretching you open with a force that made your back arch.

You never should’ve asked.

A sharp gasp left your lips as Anaxa buried himself to the hilt, stretching your pussy wide with a single deep thrust. His cock was thick despite his slender frame, filling you in a way that made your body tremble.

"Fuck—so tight," he groaned, voice smooth but edged with hunger. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you still as he pulled back just enough to slam into you again.

Your back arched against the cold surface beneath you, your nails clawing at his sleeves. He barely seemed fazed, eyes locked onto your tits as they bounced with each harsh thrust.

"Look at you," he murmured, breathless but still smug. "Taking my cock so well, yet you had the nerve to question why I was staring?"

You tried to form a response, but all that came out was a choked moan when his hand slid up to your throat. His fingers wrapped around it, applying just enough pressure to make your breath hitch, to remind you of how easily he controlled you.

"That’s it," he whispered, tilting his head. "Let me hear you struggle to speak."

His free hand cupped your tits again, slender fingers rolling your nipples between them, tugging and pinching until you whined. The sharp pleasure mixed with the tight grip on your throat sent waves of heat pooling between your legs.

"Your pussy’s clenching so tight around me," he noted with a breathy chuckle. "Do you like being handled like this? Having me choke you while I fuck you dumb?"

A desperate whimper escaped you as he thrust even harder, cock dragging against your walls in a way that had your body tensing, aching for release. He wasn’t gentle. Every movement was calculated—deep, rough, unrelenting.

His thumb flicked over your clit, rubbing circles in time with his thrusts. "Come on," he coaxed, voice dropping lower, silkier. "Be a good girl and come for me."

His fingers tightened slightly around your throat, cutting off just enough air to send you spiraling. Your vision blurred, pleasure crashing through you as your pussy clenched around him, spasming with the force of your orgasm.

Anaxagoras groaned, hips stuttering as he chased his own release. His grip on your throat loosened just enough for you to gulp in a breath before he slammed into you one last time, spilling deep inside with a sharp, shuddering moan.

For a moment, all you could hear was your ragged breathing, the aftershocks of pleasure still making your body tremble.

Then, his lips brushed over your ear, and in that same smooth, teasing voice, he murmured, "Still wondering why I was staring?"

( 𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐍 )

You could feel his gaze before you even looked up. It wasn’t the kind of glance someone tried to hide—Phainon wasn’t subtle like that. No, he was outright staring, heavy-lidded eyes locked onto your chest with a lazy smirk pulling at his lips.

"You're doing it again," you muttered, shifting under his attention.

"Am I?" His voice was all amusement, but his golden eyes didn’t waver. "Can you really blame me when you're presenting such a perfect view?"

Before you could huff out a response, his fingers were already on you, tracing the curve of your breasts through your clothes. He wasn’t hurried—he never was. Phainon enjoyed taking his time, savoring the way you shivered at his touch, the way your breath hitched when his thumb ghosted over your nipple, teasing it through the fabric.

"You make it too easy for me," he mused, rolling the sensitive bud between his fingers. "So responsive already. I haven't even gotten you bare yet, and you're already squirming."

Your hands gripped his forearms, unsure if you wanted to push him away or pull him closer. "Phainon—"

"Shhh, let me enjoy myself," he purred, his other hand sliding under your top, fingers warm as they brushed against bare skin. "You have no idea how much I think about these." He gave a slow, appreciative squeeze, his smirk widening as you gasped. "Soft, perfect—exactly how they should be."

You whined, heat flooding you as he rolled your nipple between his fingers, pinching just enough to make your thighs press together. He noticed, of course. He always did.

"That desperate already?" He chuckled, letting his other hand drift lower, tracing the waistband of your clothes. "I barely touched you, and you're getting wet. You must love this even more than I do."

His knee nudged between your legs, spreading them apart before pressing up just enough to make you feel the friction. "I bet I could make you come just from playing with these pretty tits," he murmured, pinching just a little harder, loving the way you shuddered. "Should I prove it?"

His cocky smirk told you he already knew the answer.

Your breath hitched as Phainon’s fingers rolled your nipple again, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every little reaction. His knee between your legs pressed up, adding just the right amount of friction to make you squirm.

"You’re so sensitive," he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. "I wonder—if I sucked on them, would you moan for me? Or would you try to keep quiet, knowing how much I’d tease you for it?"

You barely had time to process before he tugged your top down, exposing your breasts to the cool air. He made a satisfied sound deep in his throat, blue eyes darkening as he took in the sight.

"Fuck, look at you," he murmured, thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples. "You were made to be touched like this, weren’t you?"

You gasped when his mouth replaced his fingers, hot and wet as he sucked one of your nipples between his lips. His tongue flicked over the peak before he bit down just enough to make your hips jerk against his thigh. He chuckled against your skin.

"See?" he murmured, pulling back just enough to breathe against the damp skin. "I could spend all night here, playing with you, tasting you, making you beg." His fingers tweaked your other nipple, rolling the sensitive bud between his fingertips. "And judging by how soaked you already are, I wouldn’t even have to touch your pretty pussy to get you off."

Your hands clenched in his clothes, your body burning under his attention. He was relentless, sucking and teasing until the heat between your legs grew unbearable.

"Ah, but I’d be cruel if I didn’t reward you for looking so fucking pretty like this." His hand finally dipped lower, slipping beneath your waistband. The moment his fingers found your soaked cunt, he groaned.

"Fuck. You're dripping," he murmured, rubbing slow circles around your clit before dragging his fingers through your folds. "So wet, just from me playing with your tits. Maybe I really should make you come like this—without even touching your needy little pussy properly."

He pressed two fingers inside you anyway, stretching you open as his mouth returned to your nipple, sucking greedily. His free hand teased your other breast, fingers tugging and rolling the stiff peak as he set a slow, devastating rhythm inside you.

"Come for me like this," he murmured against your skin. "Come while I’m sucking on your tits, and then I’ll give you my cock, since I know that’s what you’re really craving."

Smug bastard. But with the way he was touching you, you wouldn’t last much longer to argue.

( 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄 )

Aventurine’s purple eyes had been on your chest for the last five minutes, and he wasn’t even trying to be subtle about it. Lounging back, one arm draped lazily over the couch, he smirked as his gaze flicked between your face and the swell of your tits.

"You always this much of a tease, or is today special?" he mused, tilting his head.

You huffed, crossing your arms—not that it helped. If anything, it only pressed your tits together, and judging by the way his smirk deepened, he knew exactly what you were trying to hide.

"Mm, cute," he murmured, reaching out. He didn’t ask for permission—Aventurine never did. His fingers traced along the curve of your breast, slow, deliberate, like he was mapping out a winning play.

"Fuck, you’re soft," he murmured, squeezing lightly before his thumb brushed over your nipple. Even through your clothes, the touch sent a shiver down your spine. He grinned. "Sensitive too. No wonder you were trying to cover up."

Before you could retort, he tugged your top down, exposing you to the cool air. He exhaled sharply, eyes dark with something deeper than amusement.

"Now that’s a jackpot."

His mouth was on you before you could think to protest, hot and greedy as he sucked a nipple between his lips. His tongue flicked over the stiff peak before he bit down, just enough to make you gasp.

"Yeah," he murmured against your skin, voice low and smug. "I knew you’d like that."

His other hand palmed your other breast, fingers rolling and teasing until your back arched. He played with you like he had all the time in the world, like this was some high-stakes game he was guaranteed to win.

When his hand dipped between your legs, his grin turned downright wicked. "Already soaked?" His fingers traced over your clit, teasing but not quite giving you what you needed. "And I haven’t even given you my cock yet."

He pressed two fingers inside you, slow but firm, stretching you open as he sucked harder at your nipple. Your fingers twisted in his hair, your body burning under his touch.

"Bet I could make you come just like this," he murmured, thrusting his fingers deeper. "Tits in my mouth, my fingers stretching you open—yeah, you’d look real pretty falling apart for me."

And with the way he worked you over, teasing and relentless, you knew he was right.

Your breath hitched as Aventurine sucked another deep bruise into the soft flesh of your breast, his tongue flicking over your nipple in slow, teasing circles. His fingers inside you curled just right, dragging against that spot that made your thighs tremble.

"You're not even trying to hold back," he mused, pulling away just enough to watch your expression. His fingers didn’t stop, fucking into you slow and deep. "Cute. Thought you’d put up more of a fight."

"Shut up," you gasped, hips rocking into his hand, desperate for more.

Aventurine chuckled, his free hand pinching your other nipple, rolling it between his fingers. "Oh? Didn’t sound very convincing." He tugged a little harder, making your breath stutter. "Maybe you should beg properly if you want me to give you what you need."

Your pride warred with your desperation, but the way he was playing with you, teasing every sensitive part of you with practiced ease, made it impossible to stay quiet. "Aventurine—please."

"Please what?" His fingers pulled from your pussy, dragging your slick over your clit before retreating entirely. "C’mon, sweetheart. I know you can say it."

You whined, frustration curling in your gut as he went back to palming your tits, rubbing your saliva-slick nipples between his fingers but giving you nothing where you needed it most.

"I want your cock," you finally admitted, breathless.

His smirk widened. "Now that’s what I like to hear."

He sat back, undoing his belt with an easy flick of his wrist. The moment his cock sprang free, thick and flushed, your mouth went dry.

Aventurine caught your chin between his fingers, tilting your face up so you had to meet his gaze. "You gonna be good for me?" His cock nudged against your slick folds, not pushing in yet, just teasing. "Or do I have to work you up even more?"

You shuddered, already feeling dizzy from how much he’d teased you. "I’ll be good—just fuck me already."

"Mm, good answer." His hands found your hips, fingers digging in as he finally thrust inside, stretching you open with one slow, deliberate stroke.

Aventurine groaned, his head tipping back briefly before his gaze locked onto your tits again, watching how they bounced with each roll of his hips. "Yeah," he muttered, thumbing one of your nipples. "This is exactly where you belong."

( 𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐄𝐀 )

Aglaea’s touch was always deliberate. Never rushed, never careless—just the perfect balance of control and indulgence. Right now, that control was turned entirely on you, her cool fingers dragging over your bare chest, pausing to roll your stiff nipples between her fingers with calculated precision.

"You look so pliant like this," she mused, voice smooth as ever. "I wonder—were you always this weak to being touched, or am I simply that skilled?"

You whimpered, unable to form a coherent response. Your head felt hazy, warmth pooling in your belly as she continued to toy with your tits, alternating between firm pinches and slow, teasing circles.

"Already slipping, are you?" Aglaea’s lips quirked into the faintest smirk, her gold eyes sharp with amusement. "And here I thought you had more to offer."

Her words should’ve embarrassed you, but the way she kept playing with you—never giving you enough to satisfy, only enough to make you crave more—had your mind melting too quickly to care.

"Speak," she commanded, fingers twisting just right, making your back arch. "Tell me how it feels."

Your breath hitched. "S’good—"

Aglaea tsked, shaking her head. "Articulate."

You tried again, but with the way her thumbs were brushing over your swollen nipples, your tongue felt heavy. Your thighs rubbed together, desperate for more friction, but she only chuckled.

"Mm. Thought so." She dipped a hand between your legs, pressing her fingers against your dripping cunt. "You're soaking. And all I’ve done is play with your tits."

Your hips jerked, but she didn’t move, keeping you right on the edge.

"How predictable," she murmured, finally sliding two fingers inside, slow and deep. "So easily reduced to this. A soft little thing, eager to be filled but barely capable of forming a sentence."

Her other hand never left your chest, teasing and rolling your nipple in tandem with every thrust of her fingers. Your mind fogged up further, thoughts slipping away with every precise movement.

"You’re taking me so well," she mused, voice low and sweet. "But I think we can empty that little head of yours even more, hm?"

And with the way she was working you over, it was only a matter of time before you gave in completely.

Aglaea watched you with that same calm amusement, her fingers still buried deep inside you, teasing, stretching, keeping you just on the edge. Every slow thrust was deliberate, her other hand never ceasing its attention on your chest, pinching and rolling your nipples like she had all the time in the world to ruin you.

"You're already struggling to keep up," she mused, tilting her head. "I wonder—how much more can you handle before your mind turns completely to mush?"

You whined, hips bucking against her fingers, desperate for more. Words were hard to string together, your body pliant and open under her touch.

"Mm. Perhaps we should push a little further." She withdrew her fingers, ignoring your pathetic whimper at the loss, and instead, shifted herself closer, positioning her body against yours.

Before you could even register what she was doing, you felt the smooth press of her soaked cunt against yours. Your breath stuttered as she hooked her leg over your hip, rolling her hips forward, making sure you felt everything.

"Look at you," she murmured, her golden eyes dark with something deeper than amusement. "So dumb and needy, just from a little playing. And now you get to grind against me properly—if you can even keep up."

You gasped as she moved, the slick heat of her cunt rubbing against yours in slow, languid strokes. Every grind sent sparks up your spine, the sensation of her wet folds pressing into yours too much and not enough at the same time.

"You feel that?" Aglaea purred, her fingers returning to your breasts, playing with your swollen nipples in time with her movements. "Every little shift, every drag of my clit against yours—ah, you’re shaking already."

Your thighs trembled as you tried to match her rhythm, but your body was too wrecked, too lost in the overwhelming sensation of her taking her time with you, dragging you closer to the edge at her pace.

"Mm, poor thing," she sighed, voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Already too fucked out to do anything but take it? That's fine. You don't need to think—just let me use you to get myself off."

Her pace quickened slightly, the wet slide of your cunts rubbing together filling the space between you. Every shift sent more pleasure flooding through you, your brain completely melting under her touch, her voice, the way she played with your body like it belonged to her.

"Go on," she murmured, her lips grazing your jaw as she pinched your nipple hard enough to make your breath catch. "Cum for me, like the dumb little thing you are."

With the way she was grinding against you, the stimulation to your clit, the way her hands and words completely unraveled you—you had no choice but to obey.

Aglaea’s smirk deepened as your body tensed, thighs trembling, a broken moan slipping from your lips as the pleasure crested. The wet friction between you grew even slicker as you came hard, your walls clenching around nothing, back arching into her touch.

"That’s it," she murmured, rolling her hips through your orgasm, not slowing down in the slightest. "Just like that. So easy to unravel, aren’t you?"

Your breath came in short gasps, your body still shuddering in the aftermath, but Aglaea wasn’t done with you. Before you could fully register it, her fingers tangled in your hair, yanking your head back just enough to expose your throat.

"You’re not done yet," she chided, her voice still smooth, still composed—but there was an edge now, something sharp and possessive beneath her usual amusement. "Did I say you could stop?"

Your whimper was cut off as she leaned in, lips dragging along the sensitive skin of your throat before her teeth sank in, biting down hard enough to make you cry out. The mix of pain and pleasure shot straight to your core, and your hips jerked, grinding up into her as she bit deeper, claiming you in a way that made your head spin.

"Mm, such pretty sounds," Aglaea mused, licking over the fresh mark she’d left before her teeth found your shoulder next, sinking in just as deep. "You take everything so well, don’t you? All it takes is a little tug on your hair, a little bite, and you’re already falling apart again."

She pulled your head back further, forcing you to meet her gaze. Her eyes were half-lidded, hungry, her lips swollen from the marks she was leaving on your skin.

"You’re going to give me another one," she purred, her hand trailing back down to your chest, fingers pinching and rolling your overstimulated nipples, making your breath stutter. "You’re going to cum again, right here, rubbing that dumb little pussy against mine."

Her pace quickened, her own breaths coming heavier now as her clit dragged against yours, the wet slide between you turning downright obscene. Her grip in your hair tightened as she leaned in, biting down on your lower lip this time, sucking it into her mouth before pulling away just enough to murmur—

"Be good for me and cum again, or I’ll keep going until you can’t think at all."

With the way she was using you, the way she played with your body like it was hers to control, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer.

( 𝐌𝐘𝐃𝐄𝐈 )

Mydei’s eyes had been on your chest for a while now. He wasn’t even pretending to be subtle about it, his golden gaze flicking down every time you shifted, every time your top dipped just a little too low.

"You’re not very discreet," you teased, folding your arms beneath your tits, knowing exactly what that would do.

His smirk was slow, calculated. "Why would I be? You’ve been parading them in front of me all night."

Before you could snap back, he was already moving. One step closer, his gloved hand reaching out, fingers tracing the curve of your breast over your clothes. A deliberate touch, slow and indulgent. His thumb brushed over your nipple, and even through the fabric, the sensation sent a shiver up your spine.

"See?" he murmured, tilting his head. "You react so easily. Did you want my attention this badly?"

You swallowed hard, heat curling low in your stomach as he palmed your breast fully, fingers squeezing just enough to make you bite back a sound. He leaned in, breath warm against your ear.

"Go on," he purred, lips ghosting over your jaw. "Ask me properly."

Your pride kept your mouth shut for all of two seconds before his fingers pinched your nipple through your top, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

"Mydei—"

"Mm. That’s not quite begging, but I’ll allow it."

He wasted no time tugging your top down, exposing you fully to his gaze. His pupils dilated, golden eyes dark with something deeper than amusement. His mouth was on you in an instant, tongue flicking over your nipple before his lips sealed around it, sucking hard.

Your back arched as he lavished attention on you, his other hand kneading your other breast, fingers rolling the sensitive bud between his fingertips. He groaned against your skin, like he was savoring the taste of you.

"Perfect," he muttered, pulling back just enough to admire the way your nipple was slick with his saliva. "And already so worked up."

His hand drifted lower, fingers slipping past your waistband, finding your soaked cunt with ease. He hummed, amused. "So wet, and I’ve barely even touched you here. Seems like your tits really are your weak spot."

His fingers pushed inside you, stretching you open, fucking into you slow and deep. You barely had time to adjust before his other hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch.

"Let’s see how dumb you can get for me," he murmured, tightening his grip as his fingers sped up, working you open until you were a trembling mess beneath him.

When he finally pulled his cock free, hard and leaking against your thigh, you didn’t even have the chance to beg—he was already lining himself up, the thick head pressing against your entrance.

"Take it," he ordered, his voice smooth but firm as he sank into you, stretching you inch by inch. His fingers flexed around your throat, his other hand pinching your nipple hard as he bottomed out.

A guttural groan rumbled from his chest. "Fuck. Look at you, stuffed full of my cock." His grip tightened slightly, just enough to make your walls flutter around him. "So good, so tight—like you were made for this."

He set a brutal pace, hips snapping against yours, his hands never straying—one wrapped firmly around your throat, the other still teasing your breasts, fingers rolling and pinching, making sure you felt everything.

"You’re going to cum for me," he murmured, voice low and commanding. "And when you do, I’m going to fill you up—leave you dripping with my cum, just to see how pretty you look all messy for me."

With the way he was fucking you, his cock hitting deep, his hands keeping you right where he wanted, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. And neither would he.

Mydei’s golden eyes were sharp, watching the way your body reacted to his every move. His hand never left your throat, keeping you at just the right edge of breathless, as though he was savoring the control, the power he had over you.

"You look so small under me," he murmured, his voice smooth, but the satisfaction in it was unmistakable. "Like you were made to be filled."

You couldn’t help the way your body trembled under his touch, his words stirring something deep within you. The way he seemed to relish in the way your body barely fit him, the way his cock stretched you more than you thought you could handle, had your mind spinning.

"Can’t even take it all, can you?" he teased, his fingers tightening just slightly around your throat, his other hand gliding over your chest, gently pressing against your tits. "How cute. You’re barely able to take the size of me, aren’t you?"

You moaned, half-dazed, as he fucked into you with slow precision, every inch of his cock filling you, making you feel stretched beyond what you thought was possible. It was so much, too much, and yet it felt perfect.

Your thoughts grew more hazy, every thrust making your head swim, your body instinctively arching back into his. The sensation of him inside you, of him keeping you right on the edge, made it so hard to focus.

"Such a dumb little thing," Mydei murmured, his voice low and rough as he leaned down to bite your neck, marking you, claiming you. "Don’t even know what to do, do you? Just here to be fucked by me, to take all of me and fall apart for me."

You could only nod, body completely at his mercy. Words were slipping away, replaced by the overwhelming sensation of him. The way his cock filled you, the way he teased your body, leaving you weak and unable to think properly.

"You’re mine now," he whispered in your ear, his voice dark with something possessive. "Just a little thing for me to fuck, for me to use until you’re so dumb you can’t even remember your own name."

You couldn’t deny it. His size, his dominance, the way he made you feel so small, so completely under his control—it was all consuming. You were already losing yourself in him, and part of you didn’t care to fight it.

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

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deebris · 7 months ago

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Save you from yourself

Silco (from Arcane) x Wife reader

Synopsis: The tender moment between you and your daughter, Jinx, is interrupted by your sudden fainting, and Silco takes control of the situation.

Warnings: Fainting, self-neglect, based on real symptoms of dehydration, the reader is a motherly figure for Jinx, and Silco is somewhat possessive in the end, angst with fluff.

Word count: 2.3k

Zaun tonight was surprisingly quiet. For the first time in a long time, you could hear the water flowing through the windows of your room, and a cool breeze carried the scent of your daughter’s freshly washed hair through the corners. It was an incredibly comforting moment to care for her blue locks; it always brought an inexplicable peace to your mind. You really needed it after the exhausting day you had.

The affection that surrounded those moments, with both of you sitting on your bed, gently running your fingers through her strands and laughing at how Jinx always ended up sleepy, warmed your heart. But tonight, that warmth felt strange and discomforting. You tried to ignore a sudden dizziness and the chills, keeping the window open as you brushed through her long hair to continue braiding it. Was tiring work, but you loved.

“Is it going to take much longer?” she asked impatiently, something you had already expected. Complaining about the time was part of Jinx, but you took it with indifference.

“I’m almost halfway,” you tried to reassure her with a gentle, maternal tone, something she liked. “Just this one left.”

“Ugh, I hate when it takes so long,” she grumbled irritably, throwing herself back into your lap. Her movement made your hands lose the strands, messing up part of what you had done.

“Jinx!” you called her name, annoyed, but softened when you felt her cling to you even tighter, wrapping her arms around your waist and burying her face in your belly. Her body started warming yours even more, pushing the cold away, and you stayed silent, appreciating the closeness.

“Can we do it later?” she asked in a low voice, almost needy. Jinx had a thing with physical contact; it was something she appreciated when it came from the right people. That’s why she was now closing her eyes while you stroked her cheek and the side of her head.

“It’s going to be harder to fix,” you tried to argue, struggling with the duality of wanting to stay cuddled with her or return to the hard work of finishing her hair.

“You’re warm,” she murmured, and you couldn’t see, but she furrowed her brow, feeling your body temperature against her pressed cheek.

“I think so,” your whisper came without weight, not caring about the statement. Or maybe you just didn’t have the strength to think properly anymore.

You felt drained, and your daughter had noticed your lack of energy when she took your hand to play with your fingers, interlacing them in a sort of waltz but seeing how you barely reacted to her movements, letting her have fun on her own. And you always used to play along.

“Let me finish,” you asked with much effort, confused by the new sign of your condition that had just emerged: a sharp pain in your forehead. But it wasn’t common for you to get headaches.

Luckily, Jinx obeyed without further rebellion. She stood up to allow you to finish what you had started. She pulled her legs up to her chest on the bed, pouting with a dissatisfied expression while she felt you place the golden pins.

When you had just finished braiding, your fingers fell, sliding down the braid’s length, as if keeping your arms raised for just one more second was extremely difficult. And it was.

Your dizziness worsened, leaving your limbs weak, and now you couldn’t avoid feeling a hint of nervousness as your breathing became irregular, along with the dryness in your throat.

“My love, can you close the window?”

Your request alarmed Jinx, who turned toward your voice but not enough to look directly at you. Hesitant, she stood up, and when she returned, a look of confusion took over her face.

“What...?” The word got stuck as she quickly approached, placing one hand on your back and the other on your shoulder. “What’s going on?” Her desperate tone cut through you like a blade, filling your chest with guilt.

“I... I think I’m not feeling well.” You tried to hold back the tears, but your trembling voice betrayed the effort. Just a few tears fell, as if they had run out, and the pain in your muscles and joints, which had started as a discomfort in the morning, had become unbearable. The discomfort had been easy to ignore before, but now it seemed impossible to divert your attention from it.

You hadn’t paid much attention to the dizziness that had disrupted your day, but sitting for a moment seemed to amplify all the symptoms. Maybe they had always been there, silently growing, until they reached this point.

“Say something!” Jinx’s voice sounded choked, pulling you out of the haze. You tried to open your eyes, but it was hard. She was scared—you could feel it in the way her hands trembled as she held your face. She shook you gently, the urgency clear in every movement. “Don’t close your eyes!” she screamed, her voice breaking as darkness overtook your vision.

When consciousness started to return, you opened your eyes slowly, blinking to adjust to the dimness of the room. A faint light illuminated the room enough for you to realize you were lying down, now wrapped in a blanket. Your hearing seemed muffled, as if you were submerged, but amid the confusing sounds, Silco’s voice emerged.

He was calling for Jinx, trying to calm her. “Jinx, listen,” he repeated, his voice deep and firm, but filled with concern. His tone seemed to seek her attention, trying to contain the emotional storm that was overwhelming the girl. “Jinx, I told you it is fine. It is nothing serious.”

Silco’s deep voice, usually so controlled, was now filled with a disturbance he could barely disguise. As he spoke, he repeated those words mentaly, as if trying to convince not only her but also himself that this was just a temporary illness.

“B-but...” Her voice broke, and the rest of the words got stuck in her throat. Jinx seemed unable to look directly at her father; her eyes nervously scanned the room, searching for an answer where there was none. “She... she just suddenly got like this.”

“Was not sudden, Jinx.” Silco took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. “We just did not notice before.” He adjusted his tone, seeking a firmness he didn’t feel, hoping to convey some confidence. “It is common. People get sick all the time. She will be fine.”

He continued, repeating the words like a mantra, silently praying they were true.

“Do you promise?” Jinx’s question came loaded with urgency, almost like an ultimatum.

Silco hesitated for a moment, swallowing hard at the weight of that word. Promising meant more than just reassuring her; it meant banishing any possibility of loss or failure. He knew he couldn’t say “yes” lightly, but he also couldn’t imagine denying that reassurance to his daughter.

His gaze shifted behind him, seeking your figure lying down. When he noticed you trying to sit up, despite visible effort, Silco felt an unexpected relief. It was a sign, even if small, that gave him the strength to respond firmly.

“I promise.” His voice came low but firm, as he squeezed Jinx’s shoulders, trying to convey a security he could barely feel.

Jinx followed her father’s gaze, and upon seeing you move, her behavior shifted instantly. With the frantic energy characteristic of her, she ran to you.

“Calm down!” Silco tried to call to her, but she was already on top of you.

You, however, were lost in confusion. Your mind felt like a blur, and the unbearable weight on your eyelids made it impossible to react or understand what was happening. The last thing you felt was Jinx’s hesitant touch, quickly replaced by the touch of calloused hands, before everything went dark again.

Silco watched as your eyes opened and closed again, what seemed like the thousandth time that night. It was as if you were waging a battle against your own consciousness and body, trying to hold onto reality as it slipped through your fingers.

He hadn’t slept. He had spent the night by your side, patiently waiting for that moment when you would finally wake up for real. Making sure you didn’t hurt yourself with the needle stuck to your wrist, connecting you to the IV that kept your body hydrated, had been an exhausting task. Every time you briefly stirred, it seemed like you were compelled to move your arms, as if testing your own strength, and he found himself forced to intervene.

“I thought you were going to pass out again,” he murmured, his voice low and strangely gentle, something rare coming from him. He carefully placed his hand on your forehead, checking the fever that, to his relief, was starting to subside.

“What do I have?” you asked, the words coming out slowly as your mind pieced together recent memories and adjusted to your surroundings.

Silco let out a long sigh, somewhere between irritation and relief. The corner of his lips curved into a dry smile, as if he found the situation so absurd it was almost comical, yet no less serious.

“You spent the whole day without drinking water.” His voice carried a hint of exasperation and he carefully brushed away the hair that was sticking to your face. “Dehydration. How, for the love of everything, did you not feel thirsty?”

His question was genuine, a mix of confusion and disbelief.

“I don’t know,” you whispered, feeling small and stupid under his analytical gaze.

Silco didn’t say anything more right away. Instead, his eyes studied you for a moment longer than necessary before he leaned back in the chair next to the bed.

“Whatever the reason, this will not happen again,” he declared firmly, his voice carrying a tone almost possessive as he crossed his arms, as if imposing his will on the universe itself.

“Sorry,” you said, the weakness still evident in your voice, but there was also a trace of embarrassment, making your words almost a whisper.

He watched you in silence, his gaze fixed as you stared at the pillow. Even pale and visibly fragile, you were still the most beautiful woman he had ever known. The soft moonlight illuminated your face, highlighting a few strands of your hair, and in that moment, something inside him softened. The hard expression he always carried melted away, replaced by a rare tranquility—a surrender to the simple relief of seeing you there, breathing.

You saw the IV, something Singed must have done, and noticing it was almost empty, Silco carefully leaned forward to remove the needle. His movements were almost methodical, but there was an uncommon tenderness. His fingers slid lightly over the skin of your wrist before touching the catheter, and that seemingly small gesture sent a shiver down your spine.

It was as if, in that touch, he wanted to send you a message: I’m here, and I will be gentle.

“Jinx will be on your case the whole week,” he stated casually, though his tone was firm, as if warning you about your foolishness that caused all this.

You laughed, the weakness in your voice softened by the playful tone. “I can handle it.”

Slowly, you pulled his fingers, as an invitation for him to come closer. Silco accepted without hesitation, climbing onto the bed beside you. He positioned himself behind you, wrapping his body around you in an embrace that, though silent, carried a desperate intensity.

His hands tightened around your waist, the fingers interlacing as if he feared that if let go, you might slip away. The warmth of Silco’s breath brushed against your neck, bringing with it the scent of the cigars he always smoked. On anyone else, or in any other situation, the smell would have been overpowering, almost repulsive, but from him, there was something strangely comforting about it. It was a subtle reminder that, despite everything, he was there—solid, present, and, above all, familiar.

Silco squeezed your waist tighter, his deep voice cutting through the silence, almost a controlled growl as he whispered against your ear:

“Do you really think you will achieve something important if you forget the basics? Forget to drink water, to take care of yourself… That is not just foolishness, it is pure recklessness.”

He held you close, his eyes wandering to a distant point in the room, as if searching for something to focus on, while trying to make you understand the weight of his words. Silco knew you had this habit of putting yourself second, neglecting your own needs for what you thought was more urgent or important.

“Stop putting yourself at risk like this,” he continued, his voice firmer, “or I woll not have any choice but to take care of everything.”

His voice, cold and incisive, sounded almost like an attempt at humor, but you knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t one for jokes. Silco didn’t care for casual remarks, and the lightness in his tone was just a mask for the frustration he felt. You worried so much about not overburdening him that you ended up ignoring your own well-being, making his biggest concern a reality: he would have to carry the weight for you.

“I take care of you… even if I have to save you from yourself,” he whispered, almost like a mantra. The words were both a promise and a necessity. He was speaking to himself, trying to reaffirm his own position, and you didn’t dare interrupt him. You just cuddled closer to his body, feeling the warmth and firmness of his words as a protection that, somehow, also felt like a prison.

#imagine #x reader #angst #arcane #lol #x you #silco x reader #arcane silco #silco #silco and jinx #silco arcane #silco x wife reader #jinx #jinx arcane #jinx league of legends #jinx x mother reader

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kissbabie · 1 month ago

Text

helping your stressed boyfriend ♡

currently, you’re on your knees, in between your boyfriends’ legs as you take him in your mouth, the tip of his cock kissing the back of your throat as you suck him slowly all while looking up at him with big, teary eyes.

“god sweetheart— you’re so good to me..” he groans, pushing your head deeper in as you gag and choke around him, his dick getting layered in saliva. the praise goes straight to your pussy, causing you to let out a loud, muffled whine as one of your hands instinctively reaches down into your panties to play with your leaking pussy. “mmmf—! mmnhh..”

your poor, poor, boyfriend has been so stressed lately. it pained you to even see him in so much distress. not to mention how he’s been neglecting you for a while now, brushing you off when you ask him to fuck because he’s tired. so, you tried to figure out ways in which you could make him feel better, and after much debate, you came to a realization that there really was no better way other than sucking him off! which is how you’ve landed yourself in this current situation; knees burning as they dig into the carpet, your boyfriends’ hands holding your head tightly as he pushes you closer to his crotch making it a little difficult to breathe, and large cock shoved in your tiny mouth as he fucks it like he would your pussy.

at this point, your cheeks hurt and your jaw is about to go slack due to how hard he’s thrusting his cock into your mouth. with one hand rubbing circles on your clit as you hump the floor, and your other hand resting on his thigh, your boyfriend lets out a loud sigh as he releases his grip on your hair and falls back slumped against the couch.

looking at him through your lashes, you finally release him from your mouth in favor of gently licking his cock, tracing your tongue all over his veins and panting between licks, whining that it “tastes so good..”

“shit- not gonna last baby… fffuuckkkk yeah… jus’ like that baby…”

you take him whole back in again, bobbling your head a bit and hallowing your cheeks as he lazily strokes your hair.

“fuckfuckfuck— baby, gonna cum… swallow it all okay, haahhh ‘m so lucky..”

his hand pushes your head in, your nose pressed against his heavy balls and pubes as you struggle to breath, the only thought left inside your head being that you had to make him cum.

you keep going at a fast pace, his hips bucking up a little as you continue rutting into the floor, slick dampening your panties as both your hands are now on each thigh of his to support yourself.

with a loud moan, he cums straight into your mouth, hot splurts of it filling your throat so much you’re coughing a bit as he keeps your head in place, cock shoved so deeply in your mouth as the tip is pressed harshly and locked in place in your throat. “take it, take it all.. you’re gonna kill me… hhaaghhhh don’t look at like that, ‘less you want me to fuck your mouth again..”

as he finishes, he pulls his cock out of your mouth with a plop! sound, met with the sight of your tongue covered in white creamy substance, the thick mess leaking a bit from your mouth as you try to swallow it all. when you’re done, you open your mouth to him. “took it all…”

he looks at you fondly as you stare at him with big wide eyes. he sighs, telling you “thank you, pretty.. guess i gotta return the favor now, huh?”

by returning the favor, he means pounding his cock into you until you’re a dumb mess, making sure that you’re barely able to form coherent sentences as you slur your words and lay there limp, letting him ooze his hot cum into your tight pussy!!

whoops, he’s already hard just thinking about it.

for this req

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intellectualfallacy · 6 months ago

Note

please write more of hwang jun ho !! 🙏🙏

Author's Note: He was the first I wanted to write for to get my writing warmed up again, so can't help but oblige to this request! ☺️ I really hope you enjoy!

Summary: After you come back from a late night work outing, (Y/N) and Junho seem to have the same thought in mind.

Rating: M (18+)

Warning(s): Smut, Dirty Talk, Oral (F & M Receiving), No Protection

MDI

The wind blew harsh as I rushed inside to the apartment’s lobby to escape the night’s cold weather, giving a shudder as I was met with a slightly less cold environment. I would have been home hours ago but a work dinner kept me away, making me regret wearing a dress if i had known I would be staying for so long. The alcohol helped keep me a bit warm but nothing like being at home with Junho. He was all I could think about during the outing; flashes of his sweet smile, laughter, his body cuddling and keeping me warm.. or how good he looked over me..

Maybe it was the one beer thinking for me. Or I really just needed him. Walking up the stairs, I reach our apartment door, clumsily pulling out my keys and opening the door silently. Instead of being met with a dark living room, the corner lamp and television lit the room, seeing Junho almost staring blankly at the screen as if to not fall asleep. “You’re not in bed?” I ask as i closed the door, causing him to jolt. “There you are.” He replies, huffing lightly as he stood up, the blanket on him slipping off as he yawned, wearing a white tee shirt and grey shorts. “You weren’t answering your phone but since the bar isn’t that far, I assumed you were just busy.” He explained as I took off my coat and heels, walking towards me. “How did it go?” He moved the hair out of my face, cupping my face as he placed a gentle kiss on my lips. I moaned and smiled as he moved away, seeing his warm smile and groggy eyes. “It went good. Nothing special.” I close the gap between us as I wrap my arms around his neck, his hands moving to my hips. “I was just thinking about you, a lot.” I reply, him giving a curious hum. “What did I do to earn the privilege?” He places his forehead against mines, feeling his hands wander to the small of my back, moving me closer to him. “There’s too many to count.” I reply with a small laugh, making him smile proudly. “Should I give you a reason then?” He asks, moving his head back and a hand back up to my cheek, giving a soft rub. “Hmm.. How are you going to do that?” I teased, lightly running my fingers along his neck. Giving a small smirk, he grabs my legs and pulls me up, making me let out a gasp as I wrapped my legs around his waist. “Don’t worry, I’ll show you.”

My back hits the mattress as Junho’s soft lips crash against mines, settling between my legs as I wrap one around him, the other bent on his side. His hands traveled my sides as he parted my lips, both of us moaning into our mouths and moving my hands along his back, dragging his shirt up more and more. I struggled not to grind up to him as his hand reached for my thigh, squeezing it and moving his hand higher, his rough fingertips gliding and raising my dress higher. “You’re so soft.” He moans out as he moves his head to my neck, giving light kisses and small licks as I moaned softly. I could feel him move the bottom of my dress up, lightly touching the inside of my thigh before feeling his covered bulge begin to grind down onto me slowly. “Junho.” I whimpered as he sucked on my neck, causing a sting before licking it as I grinded up to him, a hand pushing my hips back down. “You have to be patient, baby.” He said into my ear before giving it a little bite, making me grasp onto his shirt as he kept up the slow pace. “But I want more.” I whimpered, my nails dragging lightly against his back, hearing him give a low moan. Instead of answering, he moved up and off of me, moving off of the bed and standing. “Come take my clothes off if you need it that bad.” He gave an intense stare as I moved to him, keeping my eyes on him as his hand reaches down to grasp his growing cock. I simply nod and smile, standing and removing his shirt, it falling on the ground as my fingertips glide along his tight abs. My hand moves to his shorts, letting them fall on the floor as his black boxer briefs are revealed. I keep my eyes on him as I let my fingers trail along his bulge before gripping it lightly, smiling up at him as he sucks in a breath. He moves a hand to hold the back of my neck, keeping me there. “Are you my dirty girl?” He asks. I nod, feeling his fingers dig slightly. “Say it.” He growled, making me whimper with excitement. “I’m your dirty girl.” I say, earning an approving moan.

“Then get on your knees.” He lets go of my neck, stepping back to give me space to be in front of him. Nodding, I kneel down in front of him, reaching back and letting my dress pool around me. Reaching up, my hand grips his bulge, giving light strokes as I look up at him. He gives a small smile before saying, “Come on, (Y/N), don’t be mean.” I move closer and place a kiss on his covered cock, keeping my eyes on him. “I thought we had to be patient.” I tease, getting him to growl. “I take that back.” He replies, his eyes going along my body. “Take that bra off, too.” I nod, keeping my eyes on him as i reach back and unlatch my bra, letting it fall with the dress. I lick my lips as my hands pull and let go of the black fabric, watching his cock spring out. He lets out a relieved moan as my hand wraps around his base, kissing his tip before taking out my tongue, letting his tip lay on it for a second before licking him. My other hand comes up to grab his thigh as I let my mouth fully wrap around him, my eyes shutting as I adjust to him. A low groan escapes him as his cock hits the back of my throat, both hands grabbing my head and bobbing me, making me gag and move back, spit dribbling down my chin. “Fuck.” He groaned as I smiled up at him, both hands on his thighs as I take him in again, keeping my eyes on him as I bury his cock in my throat again. I gag a bit around him but keep bobbing my mouth, my eyes beginning to water as I did my best to keep them open. His eyebrows crease and his mouth stays open as he stares, groans, moans and curses escaping them as my hands grip onto his thighs. A hand travels to his balls, massaging them lightly as my eyes closed again, keeping up my movements until I feel him move me off of him.

I let out a small gasp as I look up at him, seeing him huffing, letting out a load moan. “Get on your back.” He ordered, lifting myself up only for him to grab me halfway, lifting and tossing me onto the mattress, making me gasp. “I need you.” I whimper, catching my breath as his hands reached down, pulling my panties off as I raised my hips to help him. He let them drop before he lowered himself to my crotch, his lips and breath getting closer to my pussy, making me shiver. “You’re so wet.” He mutters almost to himself before his tongue peeks out of his mouth, his eyes glues to my wetness before he licks along my folds, his eyes closing as he tasted. “God, fuck.” I moaned out as I felt him drag his tongue again, opening his eyes and looking up at me. I whined as I felt his hands reach up, moving my legs up and over his shoulders before feeling his tongue move into my pussy, moving it back and forth before licking up to my clit, sucking on it lightly. Throwing my head back, I can’t help the moans that escape me before looking back to him, his hand reaching up and folding my tit as he enjoyed his motions. “I need your cock in me, Junho,” I whimpered, fighting to start grinding on his face. His eyes fluttered as he moved away from me, his chin lightly shining with wetness as he reached for a cabinet, pulling a small towel from it and quickly cleaning his chin. “Come here.” His hand captures my chin as I lean up to do so, our tongues intertwined with each others taste.

We stay like this for a moment, savoring each other before I move away, glancing at his cock, swearing I could see it twitch for a second. “Do you need my cock in you? Huh?” Looking up at him, he smirks as he brings he brings his cock to my pussy, rubbing his tip against my cock, making me moan out and nod frantically. “Yes, I do, please, Junho, I need you inside me.” I mumble against his lips as he spreads my legs and sinks into me, a yell and moan leaving me as his cock gently spreads me, his hand coming up to move the hair off my face as he slowly starts to thrust. I let out shaky moans as I adjust to him, a hand reaching to his hips and guide him on how I’m feeling. He keeps looking between my face and his cock thrusting into me, his beautiful face making the most sinful faces, groans and long moans making me get even closer. I grab the back of his head and he grabs the back of my knees, bringing them up to his shoulders as I wrapped my arms around his neck, feeling as his cock sinks even deeper than I thought.

“Oh fuck-”

“Junho!”

My body shakes as he looks into my eyes, huffing and moaning so near my mouth as he enters me. The new angle makes me feel so full, whimpering as he brings his lips to my neck, hearing him almost whimper as my pussy tightened around him. He licks along my neck as he begins to thrust more, my hands coming up to rake my fingers along his back, feeling goosebumps rise as I reached his lower back. “You’re so fucking pretty.” Junho whines as he moves his head away, a hand grasping at my hip to bring it up as the other went to my tit, his fingers squeezing my nipple before groping it again. I can only whimper over and over again as his cock filled me, goosebumps rising on my skin as he kept fucking me so much, it was starting to become overwhelming.

“Huh-Jun- Fuck… Junho”

“Gonna come, baby?”

“Mmm-”

“Dirty girl. Come over this cock.”

I let out a choked whimper before moaning a mix of curses and Junho’s name, letting out a loud moan as my body shook with orgasm, whimpering as his cock kept moving. I look down at his cock moving in me before I glance to him, seeing his dark gaze watching my every movement, biting his lip before letting a whine escape. “I need you.” I whisper, bringing his head closer to me, our lips barely touching. “Cum in me.” I whimper, my sensitive pussy making me whine and tighten around him. Letting out a deep moan, he nods, keeping his eyes on me. “That’s what my honey needs. My cum.” He groans out, groaning loud before his movements fastened, making me curse at the sudden quickness of his thrusts. “All for me.” I whimper, smiling up at him. “Right, baby?” I whimpered, my hands squeezing his arms. His eyes squeeze shut as he keeps his hard thrust going, curses escaping him as I moan. “Mmm, that cock needs to cum in me~” I tease, pushing his head down onto my neck, moaning into his ear. “Oh-oh fuck-” He groans out before I feel his cock cum in me, moaning at the feeling. I grind up to him to help him through, moaning as he kept fucking me, his cock softening as he took it out, a soft moan from me as he slumped beside me.

He laid on his back before I moved and laid on his chest, letting out a soft moan as we settled in. He spread his legs, letting my legs go over his, my head laying on his chest as one of my hands laid on his chest, both of catching our breaths. After a moment, we both shuffled to move lower, laying side by side but our bodies facing each other to hug on the bed. We both stayed silent as he moved his head back and going along my body, almost inspecting for injuries before he turned to me almost exhausted, letting himself bury his head into my neck and hands holding me close. I smiled lightly before I relaxed, closing my eyes as I felt him bring up our blanket, covering us both in warmth. I felt him move away before I opened my eyes, him smiling back at me. “I love you.” He whispers before kissing me again, making me giggle with happiness. “I love you. More than you know.” I reply as our mouths move away for a second, his smile going across his face before kissing me deeply.

“That means you’re mine, right?”

“Always.”

#squid game x reader #squid game x y/n #squid game smut #squid game fic #squid game imagines #hwang jun ho smut #hwang jun ho x reader #jun ho x reader #fanfic #squid game fanfic #hwang junho x you #hwang junho x y/n #squid game #squid game x fem!reader #squid games

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lovcrss · 2 months ago

Text

short ‘n whiskey | joel miller

summary: joel comes home and finds you with a drink in your hand and a tempting outfit

warnings: smut, kitchen sex, slightly rough but still sweet, oral (f!recieving), piv, teasing, unspecified age gap

a/n: need this man to ruin me, have so many ideas for him so if you wanna request fics for this man feel free!! (freaky and fluffy)

Joel’s boots thumping against the floor late at night broke the silence in your apartment. He stumbled into the dark shelter of yours, the only light coming from the kitchen.

For a few months now, it had been only you and Joel being each other’s survival partners and helping each other stay alive, taking shelter in a decaying building you found for yourselves. Joel was always very protective, even though he was still Joel. Distant, grumpy but still protective over you, especially because of your age.

As he sets down his bag and his rifle, the sound of a bottle clinking caused his guard to rise. The knife that was tucked away in his pocket was already pulled out as he quietly approached the room where the sound came from.

Once he spots a familiar figure standing by the sink Joel sighs in relief, putting away the knife again. “What’re you doin’ out here?” he grumbles.

You turn to face him, caught by surprise even though you heard his boots when he came in. A glass of booze rested on your lips as you went for a sip before he interrupted. You stood there with only a tank top and short sleeping shorts on, most of your skin exposed.

“Just… hanging out, I guess,” you shrug, face heating up partially because of the drink but also because of the way he freezes when he takes a closer look at you.

His eyes linger on your exposed body, scanning you up and down before looking away to regain his focus. “At this hour?” he raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he steps out of the hallway.

You catch him staring which boosts your confidence a little, mixing with the whiskey you had earlier. “Am I not allowed?”

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head lightly, your half naked body calling his name. “No,” he glares, trying hard to keep his stare averted and look you in the eye. “But what if something got in and you’re out here…” he gestures to your outfit. “Like this.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “You weren’t supposed to see,” you mumble as you take another sip of your drink.

Joel shakes his head, looking up at the ceiling to stop himself from letting his gaze drop down where it shouldn’t. “Well I did,” he sighs, clueless about what do next. He knew he should just retreat, let you do what you want. However something kept him drawn to you like a moth to a flame.

When he spots you starting to chug down the whiskey, he curses under his breath as he starts approaching you. “Put that down,” he demands, taking the glass from your hands and setting it down on the counter behind you. “Easy, damn…”

You stood, clasped between him and the counter, almost pinned down by his tall body. The air starts getting thicker, the proximity allowing you to feel the heat from his body.

You look up at him through your lashes, slightly tipsy but gaining confidence from the way he’s looking at you.

“You got an early day tomorrow, should be sleeping…” he starts, but you stop listening to him halfway.

“You’re not my daddy,” you tease, crossing your arms so your breasts can squeeze under your light tank top. “I can handle myself.”

He freezes, glaring daggers into you, opening his mouth to say something but the words struggle to come out. “You…” His eyes start to wander again. “Have no idea what the hell you’re doin’. ”

You look down, your bodies and inch away from touching. “I do so,” you reply, determined to make him go insane.

His breath hitches, feeling his jeans tighten as you cross your bare legs, your thighs rubbing together. “Go to sleep,” his low voice echoes through the room.

The sound goes straight to your core, pushing yourself off the counter and feeling his breath down your face as you’re now almost pressed against each other. “And leave you hanging,” you look up at him doe eyed, “like this, now?” You carefully fix the collar of his flannel, your fingers brushing his neck.

His hands balled into fists on his sides, looking down at you in disbelief but also with deep desire to make you behave. “Stop it.” His breathing was heavier, your doe eyes burning holes into his face.

Your gaze softens, slipping past him. The shorts you wore rode up slightly, exposing your ass a little further as you took a few steps forward. Joel watches you go, fighting back a groan at the sight, wishing to grab you and pull you back again.

Almost as if you read his mind, you turn around suddenly. “I’m still thirsty.”

He huffs as he grabs the bottle off the counter. “Too bad.” He takes a sip of the whiskey before closing it and putting it out of your reach.

“No fair,” you whine.

“You had enough already,” he raises his eyebrows, stepping closer to you. “Keep it up and I’m gonna have to carry ya to your bed.”

You smirk, tilting your head. “Wouldn’t mind that at all.”

Joel's jaw clenches at your teasing. “I ain’t gonna repeat myself, kid. This ain't no joke.”

The state you were in right now was unlike anything he saw of you before and Joel had no clue how to make you listen. All he knew was that he had to run like hell before you had the chance to see his growing erection.

“We’re re both gonna regret this come mornin’, ” he warns. “So go to bed.” He turns around to put the glass away after you.

You didn’t move at first. Just watched him—broad shoulders tense, back turned, like maybe if he didn’t see you, it’d be easier to pretend none of this was happening. But you weren’t going to let him walk away from this. From you.

“Joel,” you said, quietly, voice stripped of the teasing. “I’m not drunk.”

He didn’t answer, but his head dipped—like your words landed heavier than he wanted to admit.

“I know what I’m doing. And I know what I want.” You took a step toward him, careful, like approaching a wounded animal. “I think you know too.”

When he speaks and turns to face you, his voice is hoarse and almost broken. “I don’t get to have this no more.”

Gently, you pressed a hand to his chest. “You do. You just don’t let yourself.” Joel took in your words, still carefully watching your moves. You lean in closer. “Let me help you,” you coo softly.

Joel’s hand came up to your wrist, at first thinking about pulling it away but now to hold it there, grounding himself in your touch. His eyes flicked from your mouth to your eyes, like he was still trying to talk himself out of it.

In a moment you thought he was gonna shove you away — but then he gave in.

He leaned in slow, as if giving you or himself every chance to back away. The hesitation was hard to get rid of, pulling back slightly but not all the way. “This ain’t right.”

You scoff at his uncertainty and hesitation, tired of dancing around each other. “Shut up.”

Your lips come crashing together in a heated, passionate kiss. Joel’s hands grip your hips possessively, tasting whiskey when his tongue demands entrance into your mouth. You wrap your arms around his neck, chest pressing into him.

He slows down at first, wanting to take it easy on you, gentle and careful like protecting a glass figure but when he feels your breasts squeeze against him and your fingers tugging at his belt, something inside of him unleashes.

Joel picks you up with ease, placing you on his waist and grabbing your ass eagerly. The kiss deepens as he slams you down on the counter, the sounds you both made mixing together.

After finally pulling away, breathless, Joel’s hand slides under your tank top, his rough fingers inching higher over your soft skin. They finally reach your breast, gently kneading it. His thumb brushes over your nipple, making it pebble.

With a mewl, your legs wrap around him tighter. You hold yourself up with your palms on the counter, letting him explore you all he wants.

Joel's mouth descends to your collarbone, sucking and biting gently as his other hand reaches down, fingers hooking under the edges of your panties. They find your slick heat and he teases your entrance, circling it slowly. “So wet…”

You whine, trying hard not to move against his hand and let him toy with you his way. “Joel…” Your mouth is parted, thighs already trembling with desire.

He observes you for reactions as his thumb rolls your clit. “What, baby?”

“N-Need you… Please,” you whimper as the tip of his finger enters your hole.

The corner of his mouth twitches at your begging. “Since you asked so nicely.” He pushes a finger inside you, groaning at how tight and hot you are. His thumb rubs firm circles over your clit as he starts to pump his finger in and out. The sounds you make to encourage him makes his groin stir, increasing his speed and spreads your legs wider, parting your folds with his other hands for better access.

The way his fingers work you has you arching your back, saying his name like a prayer. Joel adds another finger, scissoring them to stretch you further as he picks up the pace. His thumb continues its relentless stimulation of your clit, whispering praises into your ear. He leans in to capture your mouth in a searing kiss, tongue delving deep to tangle with yours. The taste of whiskey mingles with your sweetness as he devours you. His lips move down your neck, nipping at the soft skin, travelling down to your tits and assaulting the sensitive buds with his mouth.

“Oh my God,” you moan, the pleasure felt otherworldly. You hold onto him, tangling your fingers in his hair. His fingers curl in a way that has you seeing stars. “F-yes… fuck!”

Your responses, your parted lips and furrowed eyebrows had his desire to devour you grow into a wildfire. The pent up tension made it all worth as long as he had the chance to take care of you but also ruin you as well.

Joel's eyes lock onto yours, dark with lust and intensity as he watches you unravel. “Come on, baby girl.” He pinches your clit hard as his fingers keep hitting your sweet spot, sending you plummeting over the edge. Your walls clench tightly around his fingers as you cry out, waves of pleasure crashing over you. “Joel!”

Watching your climax hit had Joel’s own arousal rise and your head spinning as the last drop spills onto his hand. Trying to catch your breath, you hold onto him while you recover and he whispers reassurances in your ear with his head nuzzling into your neck.

The feeling of emptiness disturbs your daze when he pulls out his fingers and takes a step back. You whine in protest, grabbing his hand and pulling him back.

He huffs out a laugh, giving you a confused look. “What? Wanna get you cleaned up.”

You shake your head, tugging at his belt, fully aware of the erection he must have even though his jeans slightly hid it. “Not tired yet,” your voice pleads. “Still…”

There was no need to finish the sentence, his grip already on your thighs again. “Wasn’t done with you anyway,” he rasps, hungrily stroking your inner thighs. “You’re sure tough, gotta give you that.”

You chuckle and bite your lip, pulling off his belt with great speed. He follows after, tugging down your shorts and unzipping his jeans, letting them drop to the floor. You work the buttons of his flannel, not wasting a second.

“Easy baby, I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” he jokes at the intensity you moved with, deciding to make it easier for you. He pulls you to the edge of the counter and wraps your legs around him. “Wanna take my time with you ‘n maybe you’ll listen.” Effortlessly, he picks you up and leads you to the bedroom, kissing you like he needs it to save his life.

Once you reach the modest old bed, he plops you down on the mattress and slides your tank top over your head. A low, approving growl rumbles in his chest at the renewed heat he can feel building between your thighs. His calloused hands skim reverently over the soft skin of your sides and stomach, mapping out every dip and curve.

He ducks his head, capturing one pert nipple between his lips and suckling gently, his tongue swirling around the sensitive mound. His hand drifts lower, fingers ghosting teasingly over your slick folds, ready and wet for him again, your clit aching against his thumb.

“Please,” you whimper, squirming impatiently.

Unable to contain himself any longer, he takes off his underwear and you feel his thick, angry tip tease your entrance. He groans, your wetness already getting him sensitive. “Wanna hear you,” he croons, his Southern drawl full of desire.

Notching the broad head of his cock at her entrance, he starts to push forward, breaching her slowly. Her slick walls stretch deliciously around him as he sinks in inch by thick inch, letting her adjust to his size.

You moan, the stretch making your world spin. His hands caress your sides and hips soothingly as he lets you adjust, his own breathing ragged with restraint. Finally, when he feels you start to relax around him, he begins to move. He sets a deep, rolling rhythm, pulling out nearly to the tip before sliding back in, hitting that special spot inside you with every thrust.

Feeling his restraint to fully slam into you, you sink down on him slightly even more on your own. “N-Need more,” you pant, hands holding onto his forearms.

Joel didn’t need to be told twice. “Oh yeah?” he challenges, pulling out almost entirely, his tip still halfway in. Before you could protest, he rams into you in a way that makes your back arch and both of you moan. “Fuck!” you cry out desperately.

Your cries and increasingly loud moans spur him on, his hips snapping forward with growing urgency. He changes the angle slightly, lifting your ass up into his hands, determined to hit that perfect spot inside her with every deep thrust. “That’s it baby girl, take it.”

The obscene slap of skin on skin fills the room, mixing with her keening cries and his own guttural groans. He guides your hands to your own heat, placing your fingers on your clit. “Touch yourself for me.”

Obeying him, you start rubbing yourself in firm motions, circling around it. With every thrust your moans get louder, your tits bounce harder and his cock hits the places you didn’t know could be reached. He watches your tits move along the force of his hips, grasping onto one of them while cupping the other slightly gentler.

The pleasure is almost too much for you, the combinations having your eyes roll back. “Joel, fuck!”

Determined to bring you with him, he targets his thrusts, angling to hit that special spot inside you with every deep plunge, the force rocking your entire body. “Oh my God!” you moan at the pace he keept up. He groans, feeling her walls flutter and clench around his pistoning length, making him dangerously close to the edge. “Fuck, I-” he pants, his moves getting sloppier. “I’m close…”

“Me- nghh… too,” you whimper, holding onto him tighter as his hand replaces yours over your clit.

You clenching around him with an almost animalistic cry as you come undone beneath him is the final push he needs. With a roar of completion, he hilts himself deep inside your spasming sheath, his cock pulsing as he starts to empty himself in thick, hot spurts directly against your cervix.

"Jesus," he snarls, grinding against you as he rides out the intense waves of his orgasm. Each twitch and throb of his shaft sends another load of his seed painting your insides, marking you as his.

Through it all, his hands roam your body possessively, caressing and kneading every curve as if committing it to memory. He peppers your face with kisses between harsh breaths, murmuring praise and adoration against your skin. "So good... so fucking perfect."

Your boneless frame settles on the mattress in his embrace, tangling your fingers in his hair. A contented sigh escapes him as he listens to your gentle panting, your heartbeat gradually slowing to match his own and everything calms down. “That tire you out?” he teases, laying down next to you and keeping you steady in his arms.

“A little,” you sigh, even though your eyes were struggling to stay open as you rest your head on his chest.

He laughs lightly, attempting to get up and clean you up but you didn’t let him, deciding to hold him while you still had him. “Stay,” you sleepily murmur.

“ ‘S okay, baby,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss onto your forehead softly, like he’s kissing the most precious thing in the world. “I got you.”

send rq, the freakier the better 😭🙏 and fluff and angst too cause they’re the best

ALSO NO JOEL IS OKAY YALL ABBY DIDNT PLAY GOLF WITH HIM IN MY HEAD PLS 💔

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou hbo #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller #the last of us fanfiction #tlou2 #tlou fanfiction

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buckysleftbicep · 15 days ago

Text

the cat's out of the bag 𐙚 b.b

pairing: new avenger!bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings: teeth rotting fluff

summary: during a storm, you rescue a stray kitten and spend the next week trying to keep her hidden from your boyfriend.

word count: 2k

author's note: i love cats and dogs, genuinely would run a little zoo of my own if i could. enjoy my loves and stay safe out there! please drop a like or a reblog if you enjoyed! <3333 based on this request

i love soft!bucky with my whole heart

It started with a storm and a pair of very, very round blue eyes.

You hadn’t meant to adopt a cat.

The plan was simple. Boring, even.

Drop off your mission report to Val, grab a too-sweet latte with Yelena while listening to her complain about Walker’s latest disaster, and then spend the evening wrapped in your favourite blanket, bingeing your comfort show for the fifth, okay, seventh time.

That was it. No drama. No interruptions. Definitely no unexpected pets.

But fate, and a suspiciously open cardboard box near the alley dumpsters behind your usual deli—had other plans.

That’s where you found her.

Or rather, that’s where she found you.

You hadn’t even noticed the box at first. You were halfway through texting Yelena about her ridiculous idea for matching leather jackets when a faint sound stopped you cold.

A mewl, soft, reedy, desperate. You turned, heart already twisting, and there she was.

Soaked. Shivering. All fluff and no fight.

Her white fur was a grimy, matted mess, stained gray from the rain and dirt. She couldn’t have been more than a few months old—tiny and fragile, huddled against the crumpled side of the box like it might still protect her.

When your shadow fell over her, she didn’t flinch. She just blinked up at you with those huge, too-wise eyes, let out one pitiful little cry, and tucked her nose into her paw like she was already giving up.

And that was it. You were done for.

You crouched without thinking, hands already moving before logic caught up. She was cold, so cold you swore you could feel it through your fingertips when you scooped her up and tucked her against your chest.

Your jacket came off next, hastily unzipped and wrapped around her as you stood, shielding her from the steady drizzle like instinct had overridden every ounce of your common sense.

She didn’t struggle. Didn’t even try to claw or hiss. Just curled tighter against your chest, her body trembling as a soft, tentative purr vibrated against your sternum.

You looked down. She looked up.

That was the moment.

You didn’t have a name for her yet. You didn’t have a plan. Hell, you didn’t even know if pets were allowed at the compound.

But none of that mattered.

You walked the rest of the way with one arm wrapped around your jacket, cradling a soggy, wide-eyed ball of fur like she was the most precious thing in the world.

You didn’t even make it two steps into the building before Bob spotted you and said, flatly, “You’re keeping it.”

You didn’t argue. Because he was right.

You hadn’t meant to adopt a cat. But it turns out, she’d already adopted you.

"Your name is Alpine," you whispered as you tiptoed into your shared bedroom with Bucky, cradling the tiny fluff ball like a state secret.

She was warm in your arms, damp fur already drying against the softness of your shirt, her little body nestled in like she belonged there. "And you, my girl, are a secret agent."

Alpine blinked up at you with slow, sleepy eyes. Then she let out the tiniest sneeze, her whole body jolting with the force of it.

You smiled, tucking her closer. “We’ll work on stealth.”

Operation Hide-The-Cat was officially underway.

You were surgical in your efforts. Strategic. Diligent. The litter box went in the back of your closet, camouflaged behind a wall of boots and a perfectly draped robe. Her food and water bowls were slipped into a lower drawer you’d emptied and converted into a makeshift dining nook, lined with a towel and everything.

You bought a ridiculous amount of pet wipes and dry shampoo to keep her from smelling too obviously like cat. Her toys were buried between pillows and blankets, and her treats were stashed behind rows of books on your shelves, labeled as "protein bars" in case anyone peeked.

Alpine had more square footage and amenities than some junior agents in the compound.

You even rigged the air vents with dryer sheets to mask the scent, knowing full well Ava liked to crawl through them when she was bored—or looking to scare the shit out of someone. If she found out about Alpine, it would be game over.

Not because Ava would snitch. But because she’d absolutely try to recruit her into the team.

The first few days were a breeze. Alpine slept for hours, nestled in the crook of your arm or burrowed into the soft blankets you arranged like a throne.

She ate delicately, gave you tiny headbutts whenever you reached for your phone, and purred like a small engine when you read aloud at night. It was like living with a warm, sleepy marshmallow who occasionally attacked your socks.

Then she discovered Bucky’s jacket.

It was just hanging there—carelessly draped over the back of your chair, like he always left it when he stayed over in your room.

Dark blue, soft with wear, the kind of thing he grumbled about losing but never actually took back. It smelled like him—pine and clean soap and just a trace of that cologne he insisted he didn’t wear.

The same jacket he’d left behind after that quiet night in, when the two of you had curled up on your bed with takeout and old black-and-white movies. You’d fallen asleep on his chest halfway through Casablanca, and he hadn’t moved a muscle until morning.

You never gave it back.

Apparently, neither could Alpine.

You caught her the first time while brushing your teeth, half-asleep, groggy, and wondering what the soft thump-thump-thump was behind you.

There she was, in all her tiny glory, rolling back and forth on the jacket like she’d claimed it in the name of the feline empire.

You watched in disbelief as she kneaded her little paws into it—making biscuits like it was hers, purring so loud it echoed off the tiles.

From that point on, it was a losing battle.

Every time you turned around, there she was—wrapped in it like a burrito, dragging it off the chair like a victorious hunter, or burrowed into its folds with her head poking out like royalty in a four-poster bed.

You tried to relocate it. Hang it up. Even hide it. Somehow, she always found it.

You started picking fur off it obsessively, lint rolling like your life depended on it—every sleeve, every seam, every goddamn inch of it.

But it was too late.

Because when Bucky walked in three nights later, gaze sharp and mouth already forming some sarcastic comment about your tendency to “hog all the blankets,” he paused mid-step. His eyes dropped to the chair. His brows furrowed.

Then he picked up the jacket.

Held it at arm’s length.

And pulled one long white hair off the collar.

You froze.

Alpine, traitor that she was, chose that exact moment to sneeze again—from under your bed.

Day Seven.

You were in the kitchen reheating leftovers, Alpine nestled warm and content inside Bucky's jacket like a smug little stowaway.

She’d made herself a nest just under the zip, her tiny head poking out beneath your chin, her soft purr vibrating gently against your sternum.

Her paws were tucked against your chest, and her tail flicked lazily beneath the fabric, occasionally brushing your ribs like a mischievous secret waiting to be exposed.

You stirred the pasta one-handed, trying not to disturb her. She’d been sleepy and clingy all morning, refusing to be left alone in the pile of blankets you’d made for her on the bed.

You’d tried sneaking away twice, once for the bathroom, once for food, and both times she’d meowed like you’d abandoned her forever.

So here you were, cooking one-handed with a clingy fur baby zipped into your jacket like the world’s neediest hot water bottle.

That’s when your boyfriend walked in.

Fresh from training. His shirt clinging to him like a second skin, damp with sweat in all the distracting places.

He had that casual, unbothered look about him—like he didn’t even realise how effortlessly distracting he was.

He paused the second he saw you.

His brows drew together, subtle but sharp. “Hey,” he said, voice low as he crossed to the cabinet for a mug.

“Hey,” you echoed, far too casually, heart skipping when Alpine’s tail twitched right as he passed behind you. You subtly shifted your stance to hide the movement.

Bucky glanced over his shoulder, frowning faintly. “...You purring?”

You blinked. “What?”

He tilted his head, mug in hand, a smirk just barely beginning to tug at his mouth. “I swear I just heard purring.”

“No you didn’t.”

He stepped closer, eyes narrowing slightly, “Are you purring?”

“Why would I purr?” you asked. "That’s not even something people do.”

“Not usually, no,” he said slowly, taking another step forward, eyes dropping briefly to the suspicious lump in your hoodie.

You held your ground. “I’m cold.”

“In June?”

You cursed the climate-controlled compound. Couldn’t they have made it slightly more believable?

And then—of course—Alpine chose that exact moment to stretch.

A soft meow slipped out of her as she extended one paw toward your zipper like she was participating in the worst game of peekaboo. Her little white head pushed through next, blinking sleepily at the sudden light.

There was a long beat of silence.

Bucky just stared.

Alpine blinked up at him, completely unbothered, tail flicking like she was proud of herself.

And Bucky—

He smiled.

Not a smirk. Not one of his usual crooked, knowing grins. A real smile. Slow and soft and a little stunned, like it had crept up on him without warning. Like he hadn’t expected it. Like he hadn’t expected you.

“You adopted a cat,” he said quietly.

“Rescued a cat,” you corrected quickly, your hand already stroking her head out of pure guilt. “I didn’t mean to. She was just... there. In a box. In the rain. She looked at me. And sneezed. I didn’t stand a chance.”

Bucky stepped closer, something unreadable in his eyes. “She yours?”

You nodded. “Technically, she’s off the books. Like… extremely off the books.”

He crouched slightly, careful and deliberate as he reached out and scratched behind Alpine’s ear.

She melted instantly. Eyes fluttering shut. Purr ramping up like a motor.

You watched, heart thudding.

“Well,” he murmured, not looking away from her, “she’s got good taste.”

“In jackets?” you teased, a little breathless.

“In people,” he said, finally meeting your eyes.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Alpine let out a pleased little chirp, completely oblivious to the tension she’d just wandered into.

You exhaled slowly. “Guess the secret’s out.”

Bucky chuckled. “Wasn’t much of a secret. Pretty sure Yelena saw her yesterday licking marinara off the kitchen counter.”

You groaned, leaning your head back against the fridge. “Of course she did.”

“She took a video,” Bucky added, laughing now.

You covered your face with your hand. “She’s never letting this go.”

“Relax,” he said, voice warm. “No one’s kicking her out. She’s... kind of perfect. A little menace. Like you.”

You looked at him then. Really looked. His expression was open, easier than you’d seen it in days. Like Alpine’s very presence had cracked something in him.

“You mean that?” you asked.

He nodded. “Yeah. She can stay.”

You grinned. “But she has to share the jacket?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You mean my jacket that you permanently borrowed?”

“You left it here, technically.”

He leaned in and kissed your temple. “Semantics, sweetheart.”

Later that night, when you wandered into the living room with a book in one hand and Alpine’s new toy in the other, you stopped in the doorway.

There they were.

Bucky was stretched out on the couch, hair still damp from his post-shower rinse. One arm tucked behind his head, mouth parted slightly in sleep. And curled right on top of him, nestled into the center of his chest like she’d been born to be there—Alpine. Her tiny paws rose and fell with his breathing, purring so loud you could hear it across the room.

Neither stirred. You didn’t say anything.

Just stood there, smiling softly, heart full and warm in a way you hadn’t expected when this week started.

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whorelaud · 4 months ago

Text

꒦꒷ ﹏ destory me on camera ¡

pairing best friend!rafe x OF creator!reader

summary Rafe finger fucking you for you OF content, not because he's been dying to lay his hands on you, and carress every curve of your body, after only being able to admire such view through the screen.

contains smut, fingering (obvi), cameras, squirting, spit as lube, dirty talk, praise & degradation, teasing, brief mention of rafe jerking off to your videos, perv rafe...? wc; 2k

a/n this had me insane i needed to do it omff i hope you enjoy as much as i did writing it!! bsf rafe is such a whore he needs his own appreciation :p

"Pretty please, Rafe?" Your lips jut into a pout, eyes innocently fluttering up at him. Your hand lightly trailed up his thigh, landing right around his crotch, where his cock was already leaking with pre-cum, desperare to be caressed by your pretty, delicate fingers. "C'mon, you don't want to be mean to your best friend, do you?"

"You're insane, you know that?" He barely managed to stutter out a breath, arms haunched over the couch, where he was struggling to maintain his position, and hold back from pushing your head down on his cock.

"Is that a yes?" You excitedly perked up, face mere inches away from Rafe's. You planted a small kiss to his cheek, moving away before he could process the gesture. "Thank you, I'll make sure you won't regret it."

"Do something before I change my mind, then." He shot back, causing you to shove his arm. A breath knocked out of his chest at the lack of warmness when you moved away to stand to your feet. His gaze followed your figure, halting just around your cleavage, where your boobs laid exposed to the chilly air, barely covered by the sheer, see through top you were wearing.

Rafe's gaze furrowed upon landing on the hand you offered him, hesitating to accpet the touch till you further explained. "You don't think I'm gonna let you fuck me here, do you?" You questioned, sly grin plastering across your lips. Rafe's throat dried at the statement, failing to keep his compusure, and feign nonchalance over whatever the hell stunt you were pulling on him. "Let's go to the room, I already have the camera set up."

"You do?" He mumbled, letting you drag him towards your room. You nodded, twisting the doorknob open, and revealing the set up you had going on, camera adjusted over the bed, the same view he was used to witnessing through the screen while he secretly got off to your videos.

"I've got to be prepared," you giggled, letting go of his hand, and throwing yourself on the bed with a thud. You plopped your arms on the bed, crossing your legs seductively, as your skirt rid up your thighs, revealing the plump flesh hidden beneath the material. That alone had Rafe's cock stirring in his pants, desperate to explore your whole body, dive in your pussy till he no longer could coherent normal words out. "Knew you'd agree to this."

"What made you sure I was gonna agree to this?" He cocked his head to the side, fingers finding your ankle, as he deliberately traced the soft skin, leading all the way to your thighs. You tilted your head back, groping your tits through the fabric, the action immediately earning a grunt out of Rafe.

"I know my best friend," you shuddered out a breath, tugging the sheer of your top down, causing goosebumps to instantly break out across your chest. "You wouldn't say no to this."

"Fuck, yeah I won't." He hissed, grasping one of your tits in his hold. He squeezed the fatty flesh, kneading and carressing your nipple in between his fingers, until it was hard and perky. His attention settled in between your thighs, admiring the wet mess he made out of you, a wet patch visible through your lace panties. "While you look fucking great in those, I need them off your body now."

"Relax, Rafe, I'm not goin' anywhere." You teased, gliding your tongue over your teeth, as you leisurely tugged at the strings of your panties, merely to mess with Rafe, and get a reaction out of him. "Why don't you get the camera rolling first? Then I'll give you what you want."

"Fuck, how do I start this thing?" Rafe mumbled, pressing random buttons to get the camera started. His gaze fixed on the small lense, gulping at the sight of you practically half naked on the bed. Fuck, you looked surreal, out of world, he wished this wasn't just for content. "Is it on?"

You nodded upon spotting the little red light, waving him over with your hand. "How are we doin' this?" You asked, shuffling around for Rafe to squeeze himself behind you, quickly relaxing in his arms after he adjusted his position. A yelp almost shrieks past your parted lips as Rafe's hardon brushes over your lower back, clearly as turned on as you were, probably ever more. "Comfortable?"

"Don't worry about me," he hummed in your ear, bunching your hair to the side, where he could catch glimpse of your figure loose in his hold. He began by toying with the necklace hugging your neck, trailing his hand all the way down to your cleavage. From soothing circles turned into him groping you through the fabric, kneading the skin in his hand, the moans you mewled out like music to his ears. "Moaning like a fucking slut, huh, that feel' good?"

His name threatened to leave your mouth, washed down by a gasp when his lips brushed over the blade of your shoulder, littering wet, open-mouthed kisses to it as his fingers continuously massaged your tits, immediately releasing them when he tugged the fabric down. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, teeth grazing over his throat, far overwhelmed by the pleasure from the touch.

"You gonna let me fuck you in front of that camera?" Rafe whispered, mostly to you, dragging his hand down your lower stomach, past the waistband of your skirt. He pushed it up your waist, gaze settling on the camera lense as he fingered at your panties, sliding then beneath the fabric, as he toyed with it back and forth, the action teasing, causing you to arch your back. "Such a desperate slut, aren't you? Dying for my fingers to fuck your needy pussy."

"Mhm," you nodded, lips pressing into a thin line to contain your whines from scooping out, not wanting to come off needy, though your body language spoke otherwise. "Fuck me, please, destroy me on camera for everyone to see, 'want your fingers inside me."

Using the arm wrapped around your waist, Rafe pressed you down as he managed to slide the lace panties off, the action casual, yet deliberate, oblivious to your fucked-out state, and the mess he created out of you.

He almost chuckled, amused by the ragged whine that escaped your throat, lips parting with awe, as Rafe glides his digits up and down your folds, fingering at your sensitive clit, making you squirm in his arms. It felt heavenly, most times, you had to fake your reaction for content, but with Rafe? It came flawlessly, his fingers worked magic.

He traced your hole with the tip of his long digits, collecting your juices in the process of sliding his fingers up and down your hole, until your cunt was drenched with your arousal.

Pride swelled his chest, knowing he was the cause of this, as well as the whines you kept spilling out, far too gone to acknowledge the camera yet rolling. Rafe used your parted lips as an opportunity to slip his fingers inside, taking in the sensation of your hot spit gliding over the digits, desperately licking your arousal off his fingers.

A groan knocks out Rafe's mouth, as his fingers exit your mouth with a pop, the sound causing him to twitch in his pants. He was rock hard, it was starting to hurt, he could not wait to get off while remincing over your little moans that displayed how eager you were to have him, feeding into his sick fantasies.

"So good with your fingers," you praised, encouraging him to continue rubbing circles to your clit, flicking the nub over and over again, till your cunt was slick with (your) spit.

"Such a fucking whore." He murmurs, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. His attention fixed on your cunt, hole gripping around nothing, and leaking with your juices. Turned on was underestimating how Rafe felt in the moment, heat pooling past his neck, until it settled on his face, tinting his cheeks a deep shade of red.

"Fuckkk..." You trailed off, fluttering your lashes through hooded eyes. Your body jerked as Rafe spread your folds with his fingers, revealing your glistening nub, coated with a glossy layer. "You like playing with your best friend's pussy baby?"

Rafe palmed your cunt at the statement, the gesture spiraling a wave of pleasure through your insides. Rafe's grunts were barely audible, though they were loud and clear like music to your ears, only for you to hear and enjoy.

The latter eventually decided to quit teasing you and line his fingers with your entrance, tracing them up and down, only inserting the tip of his digits to test you. You whined in protest, wiggling for a fraction, anything to help with your pent up sexual frustration, one only Rafe, your best friend could relieve.

He easily slid a finger inside, immediately engulfed with the warmness of your cunt, as you clenched around him, growing blinded by pleasure. He moved slowly; with a purpose, exploring each and every inch of you, afraid he'd miss out if he didn't pay you enough attention.

"Such a pathetic doll, letting your best friend ruin your pussy with his fingers." He grunted, fastening his pace, and lining his other finger with your hole.

"Yes yes yes yesss," you threw your head back,

as Rafe inserted another finger inside you, pumping them in and out of your hole, till you got used to his digits stretched you out. "Fuck me, please, 'wish it was your cock instead!"

"Bet you do," he heaved out a breath, scissoring his fingers inside you to explore every corner. "You'd like that, huh? Wanna fuck you dumb like a pathetic lil slut."

Rafe continued fucking you with his fingers, main focus on your face as it twisted with pleasure. His calloused digits repeatedly moved inside you, hitting your sweet spot in the process, and causing desire to spiral through your insides, coating every blood vessel and vein.

"You like fuckin' me like this?" You questioned through a whine, littering kisses to the curve of Rafe's jaw. "Much better than jerking off to my videos, don't you think?"

Fuck, you knew.

You chuckled when you recieved no response from the latter, a mere whimper as he thrusted his fingers inside your hole, rather pleased with himself, hoping this was your actual reaction, and not just for content.

"Come on my fingers," he demanded, request filthy,

something he fantasized about in the dim of the night. "I know you're close."

He was right, in the span of seconds, your climax built up, indicating you were close everytime Rafe would apply pressure, or use his thumb to rub your clit, spiking more and more heat through your body.

Your orgasm reached its peak, coming hard as you squirted all over Rafe's fingers, with Rafe riding his digits through your orgasm, not stopping even when your legs trembled as you came down from your high.

Rafe's fingers dripped with your sweet arousal, liquid tracing along the veins kissing up his arms. The sight alone had him a fucking mess, you dare make it worse when you bring his fingers to your lips, and suck his fingers clean.

The latter observed in awe, spit pooling in his mouth, as desire fogged his vision, eager to get a taste of your lips now glossed with your arousal.

A grin formed on your lips, quickly closing the distance seperating you in a chaste kiss, one breaking the boundaies you built for your friendship. Rafe's lips moved desperately over yours, licking into your mouth for the mere purpose of tasting you.

That didn't last long, interrupted when you inched back, just enough to whisper out your next words. "Pizza?"

"What?" Rafe's caught off gaurd by the question, too sudden for him to process it.

"Should we get pizza?" You asked, sitting up straight. "I'm hungry."

"Did we not jus–"

"That was for content!" You reasoned, face immediately growing hot. "It's done now, take care of your business and come on out, you drained me out, I'll help you out next time."

"There's a next time?" He nearly choked on his own spit.

"Only if you're up for it..." You shot back, searching for a reaction out of the latter.

Up for it? Screw that, he'd fuck you right now if he could.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe obx #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks smut #drew starkey

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cinnxmxngxrl · 1 month ago

Note

can you do one where abby tortures reader instead of joel?

“Strong one”

Jackson!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Joel’s Masterlist

Summary: What if it had been you Abby tortured, instead of Joel?

WC: 7k

Warnings/Tags: minors DNI, lots of fluff, violence, blood, smut, oral (f!receiving), dirty talk, fingering, unprotected piv, pregnancy, mentions of miscarriage, age gap, established relationship.

You came to slowly, pain throbbing at the back of your skull like a war drum. The world spun before it sharpened into something bitterly real—wood-paneled walls, the scent of wet earth, rot, and snow seeping through the cracked window.

You were feeling dizzy, unsure of your surroundings. Then you heard him—Tommy—groaning, maybe ten feet away, on his knees with a gun pressed to the back of his head. Someone had already worked him over—blood poured from his nose, one eye nearly swollen shut.

You shifted. A boot slammed into your ribs.

“She’s awake,” a voice said. One of the others.

You coughed, vision blurry. You turned your head—and there she was.

She stood a few feet away, arms crossed, eyes dark and unreadable. You saw the tension in her jaw. Rage, leashed just enough to keep her steady.

“So you’re the girlfriend then?” she asked.

Your throat was dry. “What?”

“Joel Miller.”

You didn’t answer fast enough. She strode forward and punched you—hard. Your head snapped back, stars exploding behind your eyes.

The force knocked the breath from your lungs, your vision swimming in bursts of light and shadow. Pain radiated from your jaw down to your neck like fire. You tried to steady yourself, but her fury was relentless.

Abby stepped back, breathing hard. “You think I came all this way to let it go? He killed my dad. And you—what? Played house with him? Helped him sleep at night?”

“Go to hell,” you spat, blood dribbling from your mouth.

“She had nothing to do with it,” Tommy growled. “You want revenge, take it out on—”

Abby cracked him across the face with the butt of her rifle.

The sharp crack echoed through the room like a gunshot. Tommy’s body jerked violently, a grunt of pain escaping his lips as he crumpled slightly. The air hung heavy with tension—no one dared to move.

“No. I want her.”

You tensed, the fear rising thick in your chest.

“You know what he did?” she asked, voice hollow. “He took everything from me. So I’m gonna take you from him. I’m gonna watch his whole world crumble first. And then, when he has nothing left, I’ll kill him.”

She stepped closer again, close enough you could smell the sweat on her skin, see the wild look in her eyes—untethered fury wrapped in flesh.

The golf club swung. Pain exploded in the back of your head—shattering, blinding. You screamed, the sound ripping through the walls.

Tommy shouted your name, but someone slammed him back down, held him there.

She didn’t stop. The club came down again. And again. You sobbed, gasped, tasted metal and blood.

A desperate, piercing shout.

“No—NO! Stop!”

The door slammed open, and Ellie stood frozen in the frame, eyes wild, breath ragged, gun trembling in her hands. Ellie’s voice rang out like a shot, desperate and breaking—but before her foot even fully crossed the threshold, someone was already on her. A blur of movement, and she went slamming to the floor, her gun clattering away as some guy pinned her down, his forearm crushing against her back.

“Ellie!” you tried to scream, but it came out broken, wet. Blood bubbled on your lips.

She struggled beneath him, snarling like an animal. “Get off me! GET THE FUCK OFF—”

But Abby didn’t flinch. Didn’t look up. She only adjusted her grip on the golf club.

You try to focus, but everything swirls.

Abby doesn’t hesitate.

“She’s mine,” Abby snarls, raising the club again. Her voice was shaking, but not from fear—from a rage that had fermented too long. “This isn’t for you,” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. “This is for him.”

And then—it came down again. A sickening crunch. The sound of bone breaking echoed like a gunshot, white-hot pain exploding through your shoulder and collarbone. Your scream tore from your throat, raw and desperate.

Your vision flashed white. Pain lanced through your shoulder, your collarbone—something cracked, and a scream tore its way out of your chest.

Ellie wailed. “Please—please stop! PLEASE!”

Abby paced around you, breathing heavily, blood spattered across her face now—your blood. Your arms were shaking, trying and failing to protect yourself.

You turned your face toward Ellie, teeth chattering. “It’s… okay,” you tried to say, voice mangled. “I’m okay.”

But you weren’t. Your chest was caving in with every breath, your limbs spasming from the shock. Your vision tunneled, shrinking to a pinprick where only Ellie’s terrified face remained.

“Let me go—fuck, let me go!” Tommy bellowed, fighting against his captors. “She didn’t do anything! GODDAMN YOU!”

The desperation in his voice was raw, filled with a furious helplessness. You wanted to tell him to stop, to be careful, but your own strength was fading fast.

Your vision blurs. Suddenly, a guttural howl slices through the silence—something not human.

A horde of runners burst through the windows and door, snarling.

The chaos was instant. Screams. Gunshots. Blood. The wet sound of teeth tearing flesh.

You hear Tommy cursing, hands ripping at your bindings.

“Come on, stay with me!” Ellie’s voice cuts through the haze.

You feel yourself being lifted—arms pulling, fingers fumbling at knots.

“Almost there…” Ellie breathes, her voice steady but strained.

You try to open your eyes but only see shifting shadows. The world tilts, then rights itself briefly.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Tommy grunts, his voice close.

The sounds around you—Ellie’s frantic movements, Tommy’s curses, the snarls of infected—fade in and out like distant thunder.

At one moment, you feel the snow cold against your cheek.

The next, warmth—Ellie holding you, whispering.

Then the world slips away again.

The door to the medical hall slammed open.

Joel didn’t wait to ask. He’d heard the shouting, the panic in the hallway, the word passed like wildfire:

“Let me see her. Now.” Joel’s voice was raw, trembling with a desperate edge as he pushed forward, eyes burning with frantic urgency.

“No. You can’t. Not yet.” Maria’s hand shot out, firm and unyielding, pressing heavily against his chest, stopping him in his tracks like a dam holding back a flood. Her face was pale, lips trembling.

Joel’s brow furrowed, nostrils flaring, jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might crack. “Why the hell not? I need to see her. I have to.”

Maria’s voice wavered, almost breaking. “She’s unconscious. Joel… They barely made it back alive. If it weren’t for the runners—” Her throat tightened. She swallowed hard, blinking rapidly to hold back tears. “I don’t think she would’ve—” Her voice cracked like fragile glass. “She’s in bad shape.”

Joel’s breath hitched, his chest tightening with a suffocating mix of fear and fury. He shoved past Maria’s hand, his movements rough, reckless, propelled by a force he couldn’t control. The nurses’ hurried footsteps echoed behind him, the sterile smell of antiseptic thick in the air.

His arm was wrapped in a ragged sling, blood darkening the fabric. His shirt was torn and dirt-smudged, his face drawn and weary. Tommy’s eyes lifted slowly, heavy with guilt and exhaustion. He didn’t say a word at first — just stepped back, silently making way.

Joel’s whole body shook. “Tommy.” His voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper.

Tommy’s jaw tightened. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I couldn’t do anything.”

The words landed with crushing weight, suffocating Joel’s lungs. His legs wobbled, his vision blurred for a moment, and he gripped the doorframe to steady himself.

“How bad?” Joel forced the words out through clenched teeth. “Just tell me.”

Maria swallowed painfully, eyes flicking between Joel and Tommy. “She wasn’t breathing when they got her out. Dislocated shoulder. Head trauma. Internal bleeding—probably more.”

Her voice softened, breaking the silence like a fragile thread. “But she’s alive, Joel. She’s still alive.”

The word hung in the air, trembling with hope and fragility. Joel’s hands trembled at his sides, fingers curling into fists as if trying to crush the impossible.

But it didn’t stop the images flooding in. He imagined your face bloodied, your eyes swollen shut, your body limp in Ellie’s arms. He imagined you calling for him—and him not being there.

“What the fuck happened,” he breathed, jaw tight, voice trembling.

Tommy’s voice cracked. “We were ambushed—It was a setup. They wanted information… about you.”

Joel’s eyes slowly lifted. “Me?”

Tommy nodded, broken. “A girl wanted revenge. Said she was…the daughter of the doctor you killed in Salt Lake City.”

Joel blinked. And then it hit him.

The Fireflies. The daughter of the surgeon he’d killed in Saint Mary’s hospital to keep Ellie alive.

Tommy’s voice was lower now. “They… they beat her to hell, Joel. We got lucky, a horde came through the woods. I don’t know how, but… it saved us. We wouldn’t’ve made it out otherwise.”

Joel stood straighter, his fists clenched so tight his nails dug into his palms.

“You saw who did it? What about the girl?” His voice was low, deadly calm.

Tommy hesitated. “Yeah. The girl… she got bit. Some of the others too. The rest ran.”

Suddenly, the door burst open, swinging wide.

Ellie and a nurse stepped out.

Ellie’s face was a mask of exhaustion and pain—her eyes red-rimmed and swollen, hands trembling like leaves in a storm. One sleeve torn and dirt-streaked. She stared at Joel, speechless.

You’d been a key part in trying to bring Joel and Ellie together.

You loved her, and Ellie loved you just as much. She was your favorite patrol partner—brilliant, brave, endlessly curious. She made the quiet hours pass with jokes and stories that veered wildly from tragic to hilarious. Somewhere along the way, she’d started treating you like some kind of strange hybrid—a big sister on good days, a stand-in mother on bad ones. You never asked which one she needed. You just gave what you could.

She trusted you. Which was why she didn’t push back too hard when you started nudging her toward Joel again. It had started small. Quiet comments like, “I think Joel’s trying, even if he sucks at showing it,” or “He asks about you, you know.”

Then it’d be dinner invitations—casual, no pressure. Making excuses to watch old movies together, trying to spark conversation. You’d sit between them on the couch like a buffer, nudging Ellie to ask Joel a question about some ancient actor, or joking with Joel until Ellie cracked the tiniest smile. Sometimes it felt like pulling teeth. Ellie would barely say a word. Joel would sit rigid, as if afraid even breathing too loud might piss her off.

But it was working. Slowly. Bit by bit.

Joel’s chest heaved with ragged breaths.

“Where is she? Let me see her,” he demanded, voice rough, desperate.

“Joel—” Ellie tried to stop him.

The nurse held up a hand, calm but firm. “She’s sedated. You can’t see her yet. But she’s stable. She’s going to pull through.”

Joel swallowed hard, the tightness in his chest deepening.

Then the nurse added quietly, “The baby’s okay too. It’s a miracle she didn’t lose it after all she went through. She’s a strong one.”

Silence slammed into Joel like a physical blow.

The word baby echoed through his mind, thunderous and impossible.

He blinked, voice barely audible. “What…? What baby?”

The nurse glanced at Ellie, then back to Joel. “You didn’t know?”

Joel shook his head, barely perceptible, voice breaking. “No. She—” His throat tightened, and a wave of guilt crashed through him. “She didn’t tell me.”

“She’s about ten, maybe eleven weeks along,” the nurse said softly. “We almost missed it. She lost so much blood. But we checked. The heartbeat is strong.”

Joel stared blankly, as if the words were foreign.

Baby.

The cold numbness in his limbs faded, replaced by a sudden, piercing ache.

Ellie moved to him before he could fall. She threw her arms around him, tight, clinging like she was the only thing tethering him to earth. Her small frame shook as she cried into his shoulder, her tears hot against the worn fabric of his jacket.

“She was protecting her stomach,” Ellie whispered, voice trembling. “They kept hitting her and she didn’t even cover her head, fuck— just kept pulling her arms down around her stomach like—like it was all that fucking mattered.”

Joel made a sound—half gasp, half sob—that barely escaped his throat. His arms wrapped around Ellie, squeezing her to him, grounding himself with the only comfort he had left. His chest heaved as his world tilted.

He’d thought he’d felt every kind of agony—guilt, rage, fear.

But this was different. This was everything.

He’d almost lost you.

And the child he never even knew.

“Please… can I see her?” His voice was so low it barely broke the silence.

The nurse hesitated, then nodded.

“Just for a moment.”

The room was dim, cast in the muted glow of a single amber lamp tucked into the far corner. Shadows stretched long across the sterile walls. The soft, rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound — a fragile, steady echo of your pulse.

Bandages wrapped your forearms, thick and clean against bruised skin. Dried blood streaked along your hairline, your temple swollen and marred. One eye was sealed shut with purple-black bruising, the other just barely fluttering beneath the weight of exhaustion.

And still… you looked too still.

Joel sat hunched at your bedside, the chair pulled close, knees spread wide, elbows braced atop them. His hands were clenched together so tightly his knuckles had gone white. He sat like if he let go of himself for even a second, he’d come apart at the seams.

He hadn’t spoken.

Not a word. Just stared.

Your face — bruised, bloodied, unfamiliar — was nearly unrecognizable. But it was you. He knew it was you. Knew it in the way something deep inside him cracked every time he looked at you and remembered that he hadn’t been there.

Hadn’t protected you.

His hand moved, slow and uncertain, until his trembling fingers brushed against the back of yours. The contact was featherlight — scared, reverent. You didn’t flinch. Didn’t stir. Just breathed.

That alone nearly brought him to his knees.

He cleared his throat — a harsh, raw sound that cracked in the stillness.

“Hey,” he murmured, voice rough as gravel, like it had been clawed from his chest. “I’m here.”

Silence answered. But it was deafening. Not peaceful. Not calm. It ached.

“I… I didn’t know. Bout the baby.” He rubbed his face, the gesture full of exhaustion and disbelief. “Jesus, sweetheart. Why didn’t you tell me?”

His voice trembled. So did his shoulders.

“I woulda—fuck, I woulda lost it. Yeah.” A strained laugh broke through his lips. But it was hollow. Pained. “But not ‘cause I didn’t want it. Not ‘cause I didn’t want you.”

He leaned in closer, his thumb brushing the unbruised edge of your knuckles — the only untouched part of your hand.

“You’re the strongest damn woman I’ve ever met,” he whispered. “But you didn’t have to do this alone.”

His gaze dropped to your stomach — now gently bandaged beneath the blanket. The rise and fall of your breathing was barely perceptible. But it was there. Alive.

“You saved that baby,” he rasped. “Even with your head cracked open and your body shattered, you still fought. For it. For us.”

“I shoulda been there.” His voice thickened, near breaking. “It shoulda been me they wanted. Not you. Never you.”

Your eyelids twitched.

A flicker. Barely there. Like a breeze brushing over dying embers.

Then again.

Slowly. Painfully.

You blinked.

Your eyes felt like they were glued shut, lashes sticky with dried tears and blood. But through the haze, shapes began to form. Blurred outlines. The dim lamp. The sterile white ceiling. The smell of antiseptic.

You turned your head — just barely. Every muscle screamed. But then you saw him.

Joel.

Slumped forward in the chair beside your bed, his forehead resting against the back of your hand like he was praying. Or begging. Or trying to breathe without breaking.

Your fingers twitched. Just a small movement — a whisper of touch. But it was enough.

Joel’s head snapped up, eyes wide and bloodshot, rimmed red with exhaustion. For a heartbeat, he didn’t move. Like he couldn’t believe it.

“…Baby?”

You blinked again. Your lips parted, cracked and dry. It took every ounce of strength, but a sound emerged.

“J…Joel.” Your voice was barely audible. A dry rasp, ragged and thin — but unmistakable. And at the sound of it, something inside him crumbled.

He was up in an instant — not rushing, not smothering you, just leaning in close, hands hovering over your face like he was afraid to hurt you with touch.

“Oh God. You’re—hey. Look at me.” His hand cradled your cheek, barely pressing against your bruised skin. “You’re okay. You’re awake. Jesus, sweetheart. I thought I lost you.”

You winced, your ribs flaring with pain. A soft whimper slipped out. In one moment, as your senses slowly began to crawl back to you through the haze of pain and exhaustion, your hand instinctively flew to your stomach.

“Is… is the ba—?”

Your voice cracked, barely above a whisper, your palm pressed against the soft curve of your belly like you could somehow feel for a heartbeat through skin and muscle. Like you could will the baby back into being with just a touch.

“Easy, easy.” Joel’s voice dropped again. “Don’t move too much.” His hands never left yours. “You’re banged up real bad. But you’re safe now. You hear me? You’re safe. The baby’s safe too. Breathin’.”

You blinked slowly, chest rising in shallow waves. “Hurts.”

“I know.” His thumb swept under your eye, brushing away nothing, but needing to touch you. “I know, baby. But you’re here. You’re okay. I gotcha.”

His gaze drifted down to your stomach, his hand resting there with reverence. Even with your skin bruised, your abdomen tender — he touched you like you were holy. Like you were the sun returning after a hundred winters.

“I was gonna tell you,” you murmured, voice cracked. “About the baby.”

Joel didn’t speak.

You looked away, ashamed. “I just… didn’t know how.”

He waited.

“It’s not like it was some big secret. I wanted to tell you. I just… I thought about what the world looks like now. About what it did to you. To Sarah.” Your voice wavered. “You’ve already lost so much, Joel. I didn’t want to put that weight on you again.”

Joel flinched. Slight. But enough.

“I didn’t want to give you one more thing to be afraid of. One more thing to lose.” You said, swallowing back tears.

He closed his eyes slowly. Like your words were knives carving across his heart.

“I thought maybe you’d think it was selfish. Or stupid. To bring life into this.” Your throat closed, voice nearly silent. “I didn’t know how you’d react. If you’d be angry. If you’d feel… trapped. You’ve carried so much, Joel. And I just—I didn’t want to throw a new baby at you and expect you to carry that weight again. Especially at your age.”

Joel exhaled — a sound like air rushing from a collapsing structure. “Thanks f’that.”

You gave him the faintest smile. “You know what I mean.”

He nodded slowly, leaning in. His eyes locked to yours, warm and full and broken. “A child with you… that’d never be a burden.”

He kissed your forehead. Then your temple. The corner of your mouth — so gently it barely registered as contact.

“I am scared,” he whispered, forehead resting against yours. “Shitless, if I’m honest. This world ain’t made for soft things anymore.”

His hand moved back to your stomach.

“But I’d fight tooth and nail to make room for one. For ours.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks.

“I want this. Not just the baby. You. All of it. The good. The bad. The ugly. Whatever’s comin’ next.”

“Good,” you whispered. “’Cause I don’t think I can get through this without you.”

He cupped your face again, more firmly now. Grounded. Real.

“You won’t have to,” he said. His voice didn’t shake this time. It was steady. A promise.

Your eyes fluttered shut again — not from pain this time, but peace.

Safety.

Joel pressed his lips to your forehead one last time, holding there.

“I gotcha, mama,” he murmured. “Rest now. I’ll be right here when you wake up again.”

Even after the conversation. Even after you’d drifted again for a short while. Joel stayed there — unmoving, unblinking — his fingers wrapped tight around yours like a man clinging to the edge of a cliff. Like if he loosened his grip for even a second, the earth might open up and swallow you whole.

You stirred softly.

Your eyelashes fluttered, lips parting on a shallow breath. The light above was dim now, flickering faintly, but enough to illuminate the slouched shape beside you.

Joel’s head was bowed, broad shoulders hunched like he was carrying the full weight of what had happened — and still carrying it badly. His brow was furrowed deep enough to carve a canyon, and his jaw was clenched so tight it looked like it hurt to breathe.

“Joel,” you whispered, voice paper-thin.

He lifted his head slowly. His eyes were red, glassy. But he didn’t wipe them.

“I need to say somethin’,” he said. His voice cracked mid-sentence, like something inside had finally split. “And I need you to let me say it all.”

You nodded. Barely. “Okay.”

Joel leaned forward, forearms braced on his knees again, his entire posture that of a man on trial — like he’d already found himself guilty and now just needed to speak the verdict out loud.

“’M sorry,” he said, voice low and thick and ragged. “I’m so goddamn sorry.”

You blinked slowly, pain thudding somewhere behind your eyes.

“I shoulda been there. I shoulda known.” His hands wrung together like he was trying to throttle the guilt out of his bones. “I’ll never forgive myself for you gettin’ dragged into the shit that was meant for me.”

His voice dropped, rough with self-loathing.

“You went through hell. And I wasn’t there to stop it. To protect you.”

You opened your mouth — your breath caught behind the ache in your throat — to tell him it wasn’t his fault. That it couldn’t have been. But he pushed through.

“I know you’re gonna say I couldn’t have known. That it ain’t my fault. But that doesn’t matter. I shoulda made damn sure nothing ever got that close to you. Not ever.”

His eyes found yours. And for a moment, it felt like he was trying to etch himself into your memory, like he needed you to see every drop of guilt in his soul.

“You were tortured,” he said, voice shaking. “F’me. And I wasn’t there. I wasn’t even close. And I don’t know how to live with that.”

Your bottom lip trembled. “Joel…”

He shook his head — firm, broken, desperate.

“You are the strongest person I’ve ever known,” he said, his voice rough but reverent, like it hurt to say it out loud — like it was sacred. “And if that little girl or boy grows up to have even half the heart you do…” He faltered. His throat worked around it. “They’ll be somethin’ fierce. Just like their mama.”

The tears came faster now — yours, not his. Hot streaks trailing down your cheeks, every drop a release of pain and love and everything in between.

Joel leaned in, kissed your hand — soft, reverent, like it was the only thing in the world that made sense.

“You didn’t just survive what they did.” His lips hovered above your skin. “You protected our child through it. You kept them safe. You held on — for both of you.”

He pulled back, just enough to look at you, thumb brushing a fresh tear from your cheek.

“You’re already a better mother than most ever get the chance to be.”

Your whole body trembled with a soft sob. Joel moved carefully, gently, sliding closer onto the bed. His arms came around you slow — cautious of every bruise, every bandage — and yet strong, anchoring, like he could hold you together with just his touch.

He cradled the back of your head and pressed his forehead to yours, eyes closed.

“‘M here now,” he whispered, the words more vow than comfort. “And I’m gonna spend the rest of my life makin’ sure you never have to go through somethin’ like that again.”

You buried your face into his neck, your fingers clutching weakly at his shirt. You could feel his pulse under your cheek — strong, steady, alive.

“I love you,” you breathed.

“I love you too,” Joel said, voice breaking again. “So damn much.”

The room had gone quiet again. You’d drifted off, the pain meds finally taking root, winding through your bloodstream like silk — pulling you into the kind of sleep that didn’t feel like surrender, but mercy.

Your breathing evened out, lashes resting soft against your cheeks. The pain still lingered in your features, but the fear was gone.

Joel didn’t move.

He stayed right there, one hand resting lightly on your belly — over the soft swell that now held more than bruises or wounds. It held hope. And something else entirely.

His hand was rough, weathered. It dwarfed the small curve beneath it, but trembled just slightly, like he didn’t quite believe he was allowed to touch something this fragile. This sacred.

He leaned down, close enough that his lips nearly brushed the blanket.

“Hey, little one,” he murmured. “Reckon we haven’t properly met yet. I’m your daddy.”

His thumb traced a slow, deliberate circle over your stomach.

“You don’t know it yet, but your mama… she’s the strongest damn person I’ve ever known. Carried you through somethin’ no one should have to survive. And she did it without ever lettin’ go of you.”

His voice hitched.

“She protected you. Even when I couldn’t protect her.”

He swallowed thickly, lips pressed tight.

“I don’t know what this world’s gonna look like when you’re old enough to see it for what it is. But I swear to you — I’ll make a place for you. I’ll fight for it. I’ll bleed for it. You and her… you’re it for me now. I’ll give everythin’ I got to make sure you get a chance at somethin’ better than what I had. Better than what Ellie had. Better than what Sarah had.”

Joel heard someone coming and turned quickly, rising from the bed instinctively—half-guarded, half-concerned—but relaxed when he saw Ellie standing in the doorway, hoodie sleeves bunched at her elbows, hands stiff at her sides. Her eyes were bloodshot, rimmed in bruised exhaustion, and dried blood still clung beneath her nails.

She looked shell-shocked. Frozen. Younger than usual. And older.

Joel rose, slow, careful.

“She’s asleep,” he said softly. “But stable. They said she’ll make it.”

Ellie’s eyes shifted to the bed. To the tubes and gauze and bruises that painted your body like a warzone. Her jaw clenched.

“I thought she was gonna die,” she whispered. Her voice broke on the word “die.”

Joel’s own face cracked.

“Me too.”

“She protected the baby. That’s… fucking insane.”

Joel didn’t look away from her.

“She’s always been brave,” he said. “You know that.”

Ellie’s throat bobbed with something unspoken. Then she nodded. Quietly.

Joel hesitated — then stepped back, nodding toward the chair beside you.

“She’ll want to see you when she wakes up.”

Ellie didn’t move at first.

Then, slow as a tide rolling in, she stepped forward and sank into the chair. Her hand reached out — hesitant, unsure — before closing around yours like she was afraid she might break you.

She pressed her forehead close to your arm, breathing shallow.

Joel watched them — the woman he’d almost lost and the girl who’d saved him from being lost long before that — and for the first time in days, maybe weeks, he let out a breath that didn’t shake.

And for just a moment, the weight didn’t feel so impossible to carry.

When you woke up the next morning, the harsh white light of the hospital room was already creeping in through the blinds. Your body ached in every part—every breath a reminder of what you’d been through. You blinked slowly, trying to focus, and realized Joel wasn’t there. Instead, the faint scrape of fabric caught your attention.

Ellie was there—collapsed into the chair beside you, her body folding into itself like she’d been there for hours. Her eyes were heavy with exhaustion, the dark circles under them stark against her pale skin. Her hands rested limply on her lap, trembling just slightly.

You lifted your head just enough to meet her gaze, a weak but genuine smile touching your lips. “Hey, kid.”

Her lips parted, but no words came out. She just blinked at you, like she was trying to find the right thing, but the words got stuck somewhere deep.

Finally, she cleared her throat, voice rough and low. “Joel went to get a shower. He didn’t want to leave you, but I insisted.” She let out a humorless chuckle that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Told him he was gonna start stinking if he didn’t.”

You gave her a nod, your lips twitching into a half-smile that was more tired gratitude than amusement.

Ellie’s hands clenched tightly in her lap, knuckles turning white beneath her skin. Her voice came out hoarse, barely more than a whisper.

“I didn’t know if… I didn’t think you’d…” She swallowed hard, biting back a sob. “Shit.”

Your chest tightened as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. “I’m here, Ellie,” you said softly, voice trembling. “I’m still here.”

Her gaze dropped to the worn hospital blanket covering your legs. Her jaw clenched so hard it looked painful, and when she finally spoke, it was with a rawness that broke your heart.

“I’m sorry,” she rasped. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve—I should’ve stopped her. I should’ve done something.”

You reached out slowly with your good arm, your fingers trembling as they brushed against her wrist, grounding her. “Ellie, there was nothing you could’ve done. Nothing.”

She shook her head, her voice catching like she was swallowing a storm inside her.

“I was so scared. When we got here and they said you weren’t breathing… I didn’t know if I’d lost you.”

Your throat tightened, tears blurring your vision, but you forced the words out. “I’m fine. I’m here. You got me here.”

She swallowed again, voice barely above a whisper.

“And the baby—I didn’t… I didn’t know.” Her eyes flicked back up to yours, wide and shining. “Congratulations, by the way.”

A soft smile broke through your pain. “Thank you.”

“Can I…?” Ellie’s voice was hesitant, eyes flicking to your belly as she made a small, uncertain gesture.

“Sure,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

She moved her hands closer, like she was afraid to cause you even the smallest discomfort. When her hands finally reached your stomach, she placed them there with a tenderness that made your heart ache. You weren’t showing at all yet, but Ellie swore she felt something warm beneath her palms, a quiet pulse of life.

Her voice cracked as she whispered, “Congratulations. I’m… really happy for you. For both of you.”

A soft, tired laugh escaped your lips. “You should tell Joel too. He’s scared shitless of being a dad at fifty-eight.”

Ellie’s gaze lifted to meet yours, fierce and unwavering. “He’ll do good… And the baby… it’s lucky to have him as a dad.”

You reached up and squeezed her hands gently, letting the weight of her words settle between you.

Without another word, Ellie leaned her forehead gently against your arm. You felt the tremble in her breath, the tears soaking quietly into the hospital sheet beneath her. She stayed like that, silent, close, as if holding onto you would keep the world from falling apart.

The house was quiet.

For the first time in days, it was just you and Joel. The sunlight stretched across the wooden floorboards, casting slow, lazy warmth through the windows of your shared home in Jackson. The hum of distant voices outside was barely audible, muffled by thick walls and thick memories.

You sat on the edge of the bed, pulling your sweater down over your ribs — the bruises had faded to something yellowish now, the deeper aches dulling with each passing morning. You were walking fine. Breathing steady. Healing.

But Joel hadn’t touched you. Not really.

You’d noticed it first the night you got home. The way he helped you into bed like you were made of glass. The way his hands hovered near you instead of resting on your waist, how he kissed your forehead and not your lips. Every time you reached for him, he would pull away — gently, but completely.

And it was happening again now.

You stood in front of him as he folded laundry at the end of the bed. You stepped into his space, reached for his hands.

“Joel.”

At the sound of your voice, his shoulders twitched — a reflex he couldn’t hide — and slowly, he turned.

His features softened the moment he saw you.

“Hey, darlin’.”

“I’m fine,” you said, voice low but steady. “You know that, right?”

His jaw flexed. “Yeah. I know.”

But he didn’t sound like he believed it. Not really.

You slipped your fingers under his shirt, just a little, just enough to feel the heat of him.

He flinched. Not like you scared him — more like he was scared of himself. Of what touching you might do.

You looked up at him. “You haven’t kissed me in three days.”

“I kissed your forehead.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Silence fell like a weight between you, heavy and aching.

He didn’t answer.

You moved even closer, resting your palms on his chest now, over his heart. It was thudding. Fast and heavy, like he’d been running.

“I need you, Joel.”

He let out a breath, rough and shaky. “I know. I just—”

“You think I’ll break.”

His silence was your answer.

You stepped back a little, hurt stinging sharper than any wound.

“You won’t even look at my body anymore,” you said. “You won’t touch me like you used to. You see me like I’m something still bleeding.”

Joel turned away, hands gripping the edge of the dresser, knuckles white.

“You almost died,” he said. Voice low. “They could’ve killed you, and our baby.”

“But they didn’t.”

“I wasn’t there,” he snapped, then softened immediately. “I wasn’t there to stop it, and now I—now I don’t know how to touch you without seein’ what they did.”

Your chest cracked open.

“Joel…” you crossed to him, slowly this time, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. You pressed your cheek to his back, listened to the way his breath caught.

“You’re not gonna hurt me,” you whispered. “You’re the only place I feel safe.”

He exhaled through his nose, his hand covering yours where they rested on his stomach.

“I want you, Joel. I want to feel you close again. I want to feel like we’re still… us.”

You turned him gently, your eyes pleading as you reached up to brush a thumb over his jaw. His eyes flicked to your mouth.

Your lips brushed his — tentative, testing. And when he didn’t flinch this time, when his mouth moved with yours in something soft and real, the ache in your chest began to loosen.

He tasted like breath held too long. Like guilt. Like hunger starved for too many nights.

He held you close. Still careful, still trembling. But his mouth was hungry now. His hands buried in your hair. A low, desperate sound left his throat as he deepened the kiss, all that fear bleeding into the press of his lips.

“Christ, baby,” he whispered against your lips. “Missed you so bad it’s killin’ me.”

You broke apart just enough to breathe, forehead against his.

“You tell me if it’s too much. You promise me that.” He said.

“I promise,” you whispered.

He nodded, eyes dark with something deeper than lust. And then he started undoing your clothes.

Gently. Carefully.

He peeled off your shirt with trembling hands, eyes raking over every new scar and fading bruise with something like reverence. His fingertips brushed your skin like it was sacred.

“Fuck, look at you,” he murmured, voice thick. “They didn’t take this from me. They didn’t take you.”

When he kissed down your chest, his hands slid to your hips — not possessive, not greedy. Just needing to hold you, to feel you were real.

“Been dreamin’ about this,” he murmured. “Bout how you taste, how you sound when you cum on my tongue…”

Your breath hitched.

Joel moved down the bed, kneeling between your thighs as he gently helped you out of your underwear. His gaze was molten when he spread your legs — and fuck, the way he looked at you then, like you were a goddamn feast he’d been starving for.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, baby,” he muttered, eyes locked on your slick folds. “You’re drippin’ already. Missed this cunt so goddamn bad.”

You felt his breath against your core before he even touched you.

Then—

His tongue licked a slow, deliberate stripe up your slit, and your whole body arched.

“Joel—!”

He groaned like he’d just tasted heaven. “That’s it. Lemme hear ya.”

His grip on your thighs tightened, spreading you open with a possessive strength now. His tongue flicked your clit once, twice — then he flattened it, dragging it up with a wet, obscene sound that made your hips jerk.

He licked you again, slower this time, letting his tongue swirl around your clit before pulling it into his mouth with a soft suck.

You cried out, hands flying to his hair, hips twitching against his mouth. He moaned like you were his last meal, tongue working faster now, more insistent.

He buried his face in you, beard scraping your thighs, and the lewd sounds he made — wet slurps, groans vibrating against your pussy — made you flush all the way to your chest.

“You’re so fuckin’ sweet, darlin’,” he murmured between licks. “Could stay here all night…buried in this pussy.”

Your hips rolled against his mouth, and he moaned, sucking your clit harder as one thick finger slipped into you — so gentle, so damn careful.

“That feel okay, baby?”

“Y-Yeah,” you gasped. “More, please…”

Joel gave you what you wanted. He added a second finger, slow and deliberate, curling them just right until your back arched. His mouth never left your clit, his tongue lapping and sucking like he was trying to memorize the taste of you.

He fucked you slow with his fingers, tongue working your clit until you were shaking, thighs trembling around his head.

“Cum f’me,” he murmured. “Wanna taste you when you fall apart.”

You felt it building — white-hot pressure curling in your spine, your belly, your thighs. Your breath came in ragged little sobs.

Your orgasm hit like a damn freight train — you cried out, thighs clamping around his head, cunt pulsing around his fingers as he kept licking you through it, swallowing everything you gave him.

When he pulled back, his beard was soaked, eyes wild and tender all at once.

“You good?” he rasped, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Need a second?”

“I need you now.”

That pulled a low growl from him.

He stripped quickly, climbing over you with a new kind of urgency. His cock was thick and heavy between you, flushed and aching, precum leaking through his tip, and when he finally slid it through your folds, he shuddered.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, rubbing the head through your soaked slit. “You’re so wet, makin’ a fuckin’ mess—gonna slide right in, yeah?”

“Joel—fuck, please—”

He pushed in slow, inch by inch, stretching you open so carefully it almost hurt with how tender it was.

“Shit,” he breathed, burying his face in your neck. “You’re still so tight, baby—fuck—so warm…”

You moaned as he bottomed out, your nails raking his back.

He trembled on top of you, hips stilled, letting you feel every inch. His voice was wrecked.

“I missed this… missed bein’ inside you. Thought I’d never get to feel this again.”

“Joel. Move, please—”

He started to thrust, slow but deep, grinding his hips into yours like he needed to feel every inch of you clench around him.

Each stroke was deliberate — filthy and reverent. His cock dragged along your walls, thick and stretching, making you moan into his mouth as he kissed you like a man starving.

“I gotcha,” he whispered. “I’m here. I ain’t ever lettin’ go again.”

You kissed him hard — sloppy, desperate — and he responded like he was drowning in you.

It was romantic. Filthy. Desperate.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. Your heels dug into the small of his back, urging him closer, grinding his cock impossibly deep into your soaking cunt.

The slick sound of your bodies meeting filled the room, obscene and perfect. Each wet slap of his hips was a promise — I’m here, I’m yours, I’m not going anywhere.

“Shit—feel how you’re squeezin’ me?” he gasped, voice fraying. “Your little pussy’s so fuckin’ greedy, baby. She don’t wanna let me go.”

He panted into your ear, hips pistoning now, his balls slapping your ass as he fucked you harder, dirtier. His thrusts lost their rhythm, turning rough, frantic, like he needed to fuck the memory of almost losing you out of his bloodstream.

He hissed through his teeth. “Fuck—feel you milkin’ me, baby, you really missed this cock, didn’t ya? Feel your pussy clinging to it. Can’t hold— won’t last much longer…”

Your cunt fluttered around him, clenching, desperate — and when you came again, crying out his name like a prayer you’d almost forgotten, Joel broke with you.

“Oh fuck—fuck, baby—I’m comin’—” he groaned, voice wrecked, thick with relief and need.

Joel cursed and followed you over the edge, spilling inside you with a ragged groan, burying himself deep.

You could feel it — hot spurts of his release filling you, cock throbbing inside your cunt as he grunted into your neck. His whole body jerked with every pulse, like his soul was pouring into you along with his cum.

“Goddamn,” he breathed, forehead against your skin. “Fuckin’ needed that. Needed you.”

“I needed you even more.”

His body trembled over yours.

He didn’t move for a long time — just stayed there, forehead resting against yours, breathing hard. His hands cradled your face like you were the most precious thing in the world.

And maybe you were.

Because for the first time since that night, Joel didn’t feel like he was breaking.

He felt whole.

A/N: To the person who requested this—and to everyone else reading—I truly loved writing this, and I really hope you enjoyed it. Tysm for the request🩷🫶🏻

dividers by: @/saradika-graphics

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kingkaisen · 1 month ago

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DOCTOR, DOCTOR!

♡ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Being a surgeon is hard enough, but dealing with attractive men who can’t seem to get enough of their pretty doctor? Well . . .

♡ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: 18+ ONLY || MINORS DNI — multi! jjk x surgeon! reader (separate) ft. sukuna, choso, gojo, nanami, toji, & geto, very tiny amounts of smut, mainly just suggestive, fluff, some angst, modern au, mentions of injuries and blood.

♡ — 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: I don’t know much about the medical field, so there will be some inaccuracies!

⚕️ — 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

“There is no reason whatsoever as to why my surgical patients have to suffer due to your incompetence. They’re post-op. Post-op. These people have been freshly cut open, and they need enough medicine to manage their pain.” You strode down the brightly-lid hospital hallway. The two nurses at the receiving end of your anger struggled to keep up with your quick pace. “After I visit with Mr. Sukuna, I’ll be stopping by Mrs. Mura’s room, and that poor woman better not be in tears again from a lack of quality care when I get there.”

“Y-Yes, doctor.” The nurses nodded. They scurried off as you stopped outside an oak-colored wooden door.

You knocked twice before opening it, entering Sukuna’s hospital room with a fake smile to disguise your anger.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Sukuna.” Approaching the man propped up in his bed, you folded your arms across your chest, and he smirked up at you.

Briefly, you turned to face the slumped-over inmate guard dozing off in a recliner chair in the corner of the room.

“Sir? Would you mind stepping out for a moment?”

The guard snapped awake at the sound of your voice, nodded, and yawned, rising to his feet as he dragged himself out of Sukuna’s hospital room. After all, the prisoner was chained to his hospital bed, so it would be perfectly fine for him to waste some spare change visiting a few vending machines for a couple of snacks, right?

“How are you feeling?” You asked Sukuna once you both found yourselves alone.

“Drop the act,” Sukuna paused. He grabbed his white remote and muted the television displaying old reruns of boring game shows. “Tell me what’s got you upset.”

“Something that is much too inappropriate for me to discuss with a patient.” You let your face fall into a frown.

“Even your favorite one?”

“My favorite?” You raised your eyebrows, smiling softly as you pressed a button on the side rails of Sukuna’s bed, lowering him just a bit. “You and your ego.”

“I’m just sayin’, if you’ve got a problem with someone, y’know I’ll take care of it for you.”

You leaned over Sukuna, shining your pen light into one of his eyes. “See? Comments like that are exactly why your left wrist is handcuffed to your bed.”

“Relax, I’m just messin’ around,” he gave you a sly smile.

You pulled away from him briefly. “No, you’re not.”

“You’re right, I’m not,” Sukuna’s eyes slowly trailed over your body, taking in the sight of you from head to toe. “Just say the word, pretty girl.”

“First of all,” you paused, your voice stern, though you could hardly fight off the strong urge to smile. “Drop the nicknames already. Second of all, how are you supposed to take care of my problems while you’re cuffed, under constant supervision, and healing from an arm fracture? A complicated and complex one at that. I was operating on you for quite some time. I’m guessing your violent behavior led to it.”

Hunger lingered in Sukuna’s gaze. He had no appetite for the bland, half-eaten hospital food getting old and stale on a discarded tray on the other side of his bed.

No.

He was starving for the gorgeous surgeon in front of him right now. And after having all the time in the world to lie around and think, think, think, it dawned on him that, perhaps, his growing affection wasn’t one-sided.

“A complicated surgery your excuse for not discharging me already? I think someone likes having me around.” The tip of Sukuna’s tongue darted out briefly as he licked his bottom lip. You turned your head away from his piercing stare, suddenly overcome with shyness.

“Don’t get all embarrassed now,” Sukuna teased.

It was rather odd. Lying to patients — or, as you preferred to think of it, temporarily withholding the truth for their own benefit — was a skill all doctors had to learn. By now, you had considered yourself a master at doing so.

Until it came to Ryomen Sukuna.

Oh, he could see right through you . . . could destroy your detached, professional, tough attitude that one needs to have to survive the medical field and reduce you into nothing more than a shy girl with a crush. A crush on her own damn patient.

“You know what? After I finish examining you, I’m gonna work on getting you discharged first thing tomorrow,” you said, leaning over him yet again. Your penlight shined into his other eye.

Sukuna’s gentle breath patted against your face as he mumbled, “constantly examining my eyes even though my arm was the problem. You’re looking for any reason to get close to me, doc.”

The bright light seized with the click of your thumb. Though your eye exam was done, you hadn’t yet pulled away from him.

“I’m just doing my job. You’re making it more complicated than it needs to be, which is why I can’t support the decision to discharge you just yet,” you said.

“You think I believe that? Let me show you how well my arm’s healing up.” Sukuna’s injured arm was in a cast, but he wouldn’t let that hold him back. One second, you were leaning over Sukuna, and the next, he was grabbing your leg and pulling you over his lap, making you straddle him.

“I can toss you around just fine. But I’ll let you keep up with your little act,” Sukuna gripped the collar of your white coat. “After my eyes, you always examine my mouth, right? Tell me what you think, doc.”

With the hunger of a starving man, he connected your lips. A little gasp of surprise escaped from you. Sukuna was quick to use that opportunity to deepen the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth and swirling it around yours. Your breath was minty — he could taste it. If he wasn’t currently swallowing your soft moans while moving his mouth against yours, he would have teased you over freshening your breath before coming to visit him.

You broke the kiss a while later due to a lack of air. Damn your lungs. They felt as if they were on fire by the time Sukuna leaned back, a sly smirk on his face.

“Examination go well?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“It’s . . . um, just as I thought.” You stammered, pausing to breathe. “You’re displaying certain symptoms that have me concerned. We might need to keep you here for an extra day or two.”

Sukuna smirked yet again. Shaking his head in disbelief, he said, “If you wanna keep me here, you better take those scrubs off right now.”

“But we could get caught-”

“Just shut up and come sit on my face.”

⚕️ — 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

On what was a late Wednesday afternoon, you tossed your empty cup of coffee into a nearby garbage can. The next surgery on your chaotic schedule was meant to be a simple procedure done on a young man’s knee, and according to his pre-op lab work, his vitals were just fine. Ideal blood pressure. Quite healthy. No behavioral issues.

So far, so good . . .

Until you walked into his hospital room.

It is rather expected for surgeons to introduce themselves to their patients before an operation, which is why you entered Choso’s dark room to begin with and flipped on the lights.

But, when the unfamiliar man’s dark brown eyes landed on you, they widened. His cheeks and ears darkened to a pinkish shade of red, and he began to cough. The ice water he was sipping on nearly spewed from between his lips.

You rushed over worriedly, yet calmly.

“Keep coughing, don’t hold the water in or you’ll continue to choke.” With one hand, you grabbed the plastic cup on his overbed table, holding it to his mouth. With the other, you eased him forward, ready to give his back a couple of blows if necessary, but rubbing it soothingly in the meantime.

Eventually, his light choking session came to an end after he spat the water out, and no drastic measures were needed.

However, his skin hadn’t returned to its previous pale shade. His cheeks and ears were much too red for your liking.

After a brief introduction and overview of the operation — all talking on your part, not a word from him — you gave him a serious glance.

“Would it be alright for me to check your vitals myself? I know your nurse already did so, but you still seem a little flushed. I’m sure it’s from the little choking mishap, but I would still like to double-check.”

He nodded, avoiding your gaze and staring only at the white blanket draped over him. You removed the stethoscope from around your neck.

A quiet or shy patient was nothing usual. Beyond that, he was probably embarrassed about what happened, along with the general anxiety that builds up within most people at the idea of having surgery.

Therefore, you spoke as softly as you could, pressing the cool, circular end of the stethoscope against his chest.

“Take a deep breath for me,” you said.

You checked a few different areas before pulling away from him, hanging your stethoscope underneath the collar of your white coat.

“You have a rapid heartbeat. Is this a regular occurrence?”

“No.”

His heart rate should have calmed down by now had it been related to the water incident, you thought.

“Well, I’d like to check it again in a couple of minutes. We might have to consider scheduling you for an ECG if nothing changes. Have you experienced any palpitations, dizziness, or shortness of breath?”

Choso looked off to the side at nothing in particular.

“Only . . . right now,” he mumbled.

“Oh, I see,” you smiled gently, though he couldn’t see it. You were certain he’d stare directly into the sun just to avoid looking you in the eye. “Nervous around doctors, I understand.”

“I’m not usually nervous around doctors,” Choso fiddled with his folded fingers resting in his lap. He scratched one thumb with the other, breathing unsteadily.

You hid your confusion and concern behind an expressionless face, one as blank as a new canvas.

Tightening the blood pressure cuff around his muscular arm was your next move, one made in a thick awkward silence. The fact that he was in seemingly great shape only worsened your worry.

After all, those who exercised regularly were known to have a resting heart rate lower than the average person. Not higher.

You weren’t a fool.

From the very moment you took your first pre-med undergraduate course, you were taught time and time again that even those who took exceptional care of themselves could become victims of several illnesses. You’ve witnessed it yourself. Seen or performed tumor removals, cracked open chests, or sliced into the stomachs of countless amount of people who seemed healthy. Or tried their hardest to be that way.

Was that the case now? Was this seemingly healthy guy unknowingly suffering from some sort of heart condition?

Those were the questions running through your mind when the screen monitoring his blood pressure blinked red. The cuff released a puff of air as it stopped squeezing his bicep.

“Elevated blood pressure,” you said.

Removing the cuff, you darted your eyes down to his face.

“You shouldn’t be concerned. I’m fine,” he scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t need any tests. I’m just nervous. Not because of the surgery or because you’re a doctor, but you’re . . . pretty.”

You couldn’t help but smile. Reaching down, you gave his fidgeting hand a reassuring squeeze.

Being that his vitals appeared normal when being checked by someone else, then perhaps, he was telling the truth.

“Thank you,” you pulled your hand away. “Just to be safe and test your theory, I’ll have you sit here for a few minutes, and I’ll send a nurse back in to recheck everything one last time. If it all looks good, no ECG. How does that sound?”

For the first time since your arrival, Choso’s chocolate brown eyes met yours.

“That won’t work,” he mumbled. “Even if you bring in someone who isn’t you, I will still be thinking of you in a few minutes, so my heart rate and blood pressure will still be high. I’m sorry.”

⚕️ — 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

Seeing Satoru Gojo among your scheduled appointments for the day was a certainty, just as the sun would rise in the morning and the moon would shine at night.

His operation was quite a while ago. It was a smooth surgery, and yet, here he was, sitting in the waiting room of the tall, fancy building with your name on the outside — you had established your very own private practice.

Despite being a surgeon on the younger side, you had accomplished what most surgeons wouldn’t dare to dream of accomplishing until their late 40s, if they could accomplish your level of success at all.

You had a wall full of framed degrees. Certificates. Awards. And it certainly wasn’t easy, from the accelerated programs and sleepless nights to being disrespected by your older male colleagues. You couldn’t count the number of times someone had mistook you for a nurse, even as you wore your white coat. There were even patients who refused your care in preference for your less-accomplished, less-skilled, male fellow doctors.

Despite the trials and tribulations, your hard work paid off, thank goodness.

That was why you groaned with annoyance upon discovering that Satoru Gojo was among your list of patients, and you tried to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat.

Because, damn it all, you wouldn’t ruin your remarkable career and reputation by falling for a patient . . . especially because he refused to stop being your patient.

— ⚕️—

“You again?” You stepped into the examination room, eyeing the white-haired man.

“Did you miss me?” Satoru grinned.

“You’re never gone long enough for me to miss you,” shutting the door behind you, trying your hardest to conceal your emotions, you asked, “What seems to be the problem now, Mr. Gojo?”

“Ya know,” Satoru paused. He slumped back in his seat. “I never understood why I have to tell the nurse all of my issues just to have to repeat it all again when you come in.”

“Considering how much you enjoy talking, I didn’t think you’d have a problem with that.”

“I’d rather just talk to you.” His goofy smile widened. “Anyway, I’ve been dealing with some stomach pain, and my incisions feel all sore.”

“You mean the incisions that healed up very nicely several months ago?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “And regarding your stomach pain . . . you booked an appointment with me instead of the gastroenterologist I referred you to because?”

“‘Cause you were the one who performed my surgery, unless I’m crazy and remembering stuff wrong.”

Satoru rose from his seat, heading for the examination table without you having to tell him. He knew every move you were going to make. After all — after many pointless visits because, apparently, these appointments were the closest he could get to going on a date with you — he knew the routine like the back of his hand.

You approached him. It was difficult to find the courage to look him in the eye — god, that lovesick gaze of his always made your heart skip a beat — but you stared at him sternly regardless, hoping he would take your words seriously . . . though, truly, you didn’t want him to.

“Satoru, this many follow-up appointments almost a year later aren’t-”

“What are the rules against a doctor dating a patient?”

Your eyes widened.

Your heart didn’t skip a beat. It skipped several.

You were certain it was going to give out, that you would go from being a doctor to being a patient.

He was being serious. There was no hint of playfulness behind his tone. Satoru’s love-filled gaze darted from your eyes, down to your lips, and back up to your eyes again.

“Mr. Gojo, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you say that just now,” you cleared your throat, taking a step back, breaking eye contact with him. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” He asked with false innocence.

His long finger was suddenly hooked around the belt loop of your pants. He pulled you closer, closing the distance between you both. His soft, gentle breath patted against the skin of your cheek.

“Aw, you can’t even look me in the eye, how cute,” he teased, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh my goodness, just lay down already,” you mumbled. “Let me take a look at your stomach.”

“Yes ma’am,” Satoru grinned widely. He earned yet another eye roll from you.

You had hoped that officially starting his physical exam would, perhaps, break the building tension between you both. But no.

Your skillful hands were inspecting the faint and tiny incisions along his fit body, tracing over his lower abdomen.

“Like what you see?” Satoru said. “Don’t be shy, now. You can go lower than that if you want.”

“Once again, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” You pulled your hands away, and Satoru sat up. “Your incisions look fine, of course. But I will, for the thousandth time, be referring you to a gastroenterologist to run some tests regarding your . . .” you paused, giving him a look of disbelief, “. . . stomach pain.”

“Fineee, I’ll stop coming here,” Satoru said.

“Really?” You raised your eyebrows, but not in excitement. You were skilled in speaking without revealing your true emotions through your tone — years of telling sad families about an unfortunate diagnosis or death or a loved one required that form of expertise — but right now, you couldn’t hide your sadness as you spoke.

“You almost sound disappointed, sweetheart.” Satoru smiled, pushing himself off of the examination table. He started walking towards you, and you didn’t have the courage or desire to step away. “Anyway, I pieced it together just now. If doctors can’t date their patients, then I just can’t be your patient anymore. Is that what it’ll take for me to finally be able to snatch this coat off of you?”

“Mr. Gojo-”

“Or, I could do it right now.” This time, Satoru hooked his fingers around your chin, raising your head until you had no choice but to look him in the eye as he spoke. “What’s wrong? There aren’t any cameras in here out of respect for patient privacy, right?”

“Let me tell you something,” you frowned. “I’m a very hardworking woman who follows the rules. It took a lot of blood, sweat, and tears for me to get where I am now, and I won’t . . . I can’t ruin it by . . .”

Satoru’s thumb stroked your cheek as he listened to your words. When you suddenly stopped speaking, he mumbled, “What’s the matter? I’m listening.”

Truth be told, your words trailed off into nothing because the beautiful man before you made a thousand different questions and concerns swirl around in your overworked mind.

There was no denying his sheer lust. It was written all over his face. But there was love within his gaze as well. And though you couldn’t see your own face right now, you knew you were staring back at him with the same amount of love.

“Stop coming here. If you stop being my patient, just as you said, then maybe, we can go on that date in a couple of months.”

Satoru smiled. “Deal. I’m pretty impatient, but I can wait years for you if that’ll make you more comfortable. You should know by now there’s no getting rid of me.”

“I won’t make you wait years. I can be impatient sometimes as well.” You couldn’t help but match his smile with one of your own. “Let’s give it six months.”

“Six months,” Satoru said in agreement.

“Well, if that’s everything,” you started to head towards the door, then suddenly, you halted your footsteps.

You turned around. Rising to the tips of your toes, you planted a soft, quick kiss on Satoru’s cheek. His cheeks and ears couldn’t help but become a deep shade of red as he blushed.

“Six months,” you mumbled.

Satoru’s movements were fast; his lips were on your cheek before you had a chance to turn away.

“God, you’re the cutest,” he said.

Though kissing each other on the cheek was risky — planning to date a former patient in half a year was as well — you couldn’t help but admire your quickened heart rate. There was something quite thrilling about breaking the rules every now and then.

⚕️ — 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

“Wow, I never thought I’d see little Kenny in my hospital.”

A bright smile graced your face as you stepped into the lavish room — though it was a hospital room, it seemed more suitable to view it as a hotel room with additional medical equipment.

“Well, when I decided it was time to schedule my carpal tunnel surgery, I was searching for a surgeon, and I saw your name appear. After I got over my initial surprise, I thought, why not go with my former best friend? Even if she used to be pretty clumsy during our childhood.” He gave you a smile as bright as your own. It occurred to him then, as his cheeks grew sore, that he hadn’t grinned so widely in quite some time.

“C’mere,” you approached his bed, leaning down to hug him and press a gentle kiss upon his cheek. “I’m gonna take great care of you.”

“I know you will. You always have,” the blonde-haired man whispered.

Something small, yet soft was being squished in between you both. He thought it was part of a pillow that had gotten caught in your embrace, but when you pulled away, his eyes darted down to the stuffed, light-brown teddy bear in your arms. It had a red heart in its grasp with cursive white letters that read: Get Well Soon!

“This is only one of the many, many things I plan to buy you from the gift shop,” you handed the stuffed animal to him. He took it, flipping it around in his hands.

God, he hadn’t noticed it when you walked in, so occupied with memorizing every detail of your gorgeous face and how it had changed since he last laid his eyes upon it. Even now, he couldn’t snatch his eyes away from you. The subtle smile pulling at the corners of your soft lips . . . your glistening gaze . . . even your nose was precious to him.

“Someone’s still a little sweetheart I see. Thank you,” he put the stuffed animal down next to him. “I intend to return the favor. I have a lot of missed birthdays and holidays to make up for.”

Kento’s long legs shifted underneath the blanket as he moved them to the side, making enough room for you to sit down on his bed.

“You and me both,” you paused, sitting in the spot he made for you. “I guess I can’t call you little Kenny anymore, can I? My goodness, you’re much taller than me now. When did that happen?”

Your childhood friend let out an airy, brief laugh. His hand scooped up yours. His thumb graced your skin, and he said, “I outgrew you right before we lost contact. I don’t expect you to remember, though. We were already starting to drift apart by the time that happened. But, more importantly, I think I have a more pressing question. When did you decide to become a surgeon? I’m proud of you.”

With a little hum, your eyes darted off to the side. Fighting off the bittersweet memories of growing up with Kento Nanami was an impossible task. What started out as a friendship formed in kindergarten over splitting peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and sharing toys so drastically became a forgotten bond by freshman year of high school, when your closeness amounted to nothing more than waving at each other in the hallway.

No more sleepovers. No more snack sharing. No more innocent hand-holding.

From best friends to acquaintances, just like that.

And when circumstances led to your family moving to a different town quite far away, you and Nanami lost contact completely.

From acquaintances to strangers, just like that.

“We have a lot of catching up to do, don’t we?” Your tone was laced with nostalgic sadness.

Cold air hit your hand when Kento released it — your skin craved his warmth. But the man did not release your hand without reason, as the hand that was formerly holding yours now rested against your soft cheek. He gave it a little stroke with his thumb, then moved your head back in his direction.

He hadn’t seen your eyes in years. He’ll be damned if they dare gaze at anything other than him right now.

“Well, catching up now is as good a time as any. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. Talk to me.” Kento moved his hand away from your face. Cold air returned to your skin like an unwelcomed guest. “Are you married? Have any kids? How are your relatives?”

“No, no, I’m . . . I’m much too busy to start a family. Haven’t had much time to check up on anyone else either,” You replied. Your somber demeanor vanished. A heartwarming smile reappeared, and rather playfully, you poked Kento’s chest. “But what of you, sir? How are you these days? I must say I wasn’t very pleased to see such an advanced case of carpal tunnel. You’re too damn young.”

Kento caught the hand you were jabbing him with. His large hand wrapped around yours, and he held it. Warmth.

“Well, I’m a businessman. My job is so taxing, it’s no wonder I ended up with carpal tunnel. But I make good money from it. I’m in the same boat as you, though. Unmarried. No kids.”

“Considering how handsome you turned out to be, I’m assuming it’s voluntary?”

He nodded. “Much like you, I’m just too busy.”

You couldn’t help but glance down at your locked hands. Despite the years upon years that have passed since he last felt your skin, his touch wasn’t foreign. It was all too familiar, almost as if Kento Nanami never left your life to begin with.

“I always thought you would be the person I’d end up marrying.” Your words were soft, barely above a whisper.

“So did I. Our wedding was my favorite thing to daydream about during class.” Kento brought your hand to his lips. His kiss was a gentle one, and the previous warmth that came from his touch transformed into a burning heat running through your veins. If he kept this up, this gentle love, you were certain you’d combust into flames.

“I should leave now,” you mumbled, preparing to get off of his bed, though you hadn’t yet found the courage.

Kento couldn’t help but notice how your eyes wouldn’t meet his as if they found the mopped floor below oh so interesting.

“Look at me.”

It took a while. Much longer than he would have liked. But eventually, you gave in to his demand and your eyes found his, though your glistening gaze was, once again, filled with sadness.

“I know this is the first time we’ve seen each other in a long time and the circumstances aren’t ideal, but you don’t have to mourn our past, because I don’t intend on letting you get away from me again. Do you understand me?”

Your sad eyes widened. “You’re saying-”

“I’m saying I want you back in my life, if that’s okay with you.”

You knew the serious expression on Kento’s face well. He meant every word.

“I assumed we’d go our separate ways once again after this surgery . . . that I probably wouldn’t see you again until you needed a hip replacement in your late sixties,” you couldn’t help but let a single tear fall down your cheek.

A low, brief chuckle came from Kento. He leaned forward. Reaching out, he cupped your cheek, stroking the tear away with his thumb.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. Come here.” With the hand that was resting on your cheek, Kento guided your head towards his chest as he leaned back against the hospital bed. Your upper body now rested on top of him. His thumb continued to stroke your wet cheek.

“Forgive me for saying so, but as soon as you walked through that door, I knew I wanted to start daydreaming about marrying you once again.”

“Good,” you smiled. “Because I was thinking the same thing.”

“I won’t get you in trouble for holding you like this, will I?” Kento asked, though he couldn’t think of anything worse than letting you go.

“Don’t stress about it. No matter what anyone says, I run this hospital. I can do what I want. Including this.”

Suddenly, you leaned up to press a kiss on his cheek.

“But I better get going,” you said. “It’s almost time for your surgery.”

You started to rise into a sitting position, but Kento’s large hand cupped the side of your face, halting your movements.

“Wait,” he darted his soft eyes down to your lips. “It’s too soon for this, but I need to do it anyway.”

Kento’s lips met yours in a surprise kiss so loving, so passionate, it took your breath away — there was nothing left except that familiar warmth and the feeling of his lips moving against your own. You truly didn’t know if the kiss lasted five seconds or five minutes because when he pulled away, it still felt like it was much too early.

“That kiss didn’t happen too soon,” You uttered breathlessly. “I’ve waited years for that.”

You staggered as you rose to your feet. Leave it to Kento Nanami to make you go weak at the knees.

Dragging your hands across your coat and scrubs to ensure they weren’t oddly twisted or wrinkled, you said, “Now I’ve really gotta go. But I look forward to slicing into you!”

⚕️ — 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

“You’re awake.”

It was the voice of an angel. Had to be. But, as Toji’s blurry vision cleared as he blinked, blinked, and blinked — he made out the sterile environment devoid of color and packed to the brim with machines that were wired to his battered limbs — he realized he was in a hospital room, not the afterlife.

“Welcome back,” you smiled.

Toji felt your thumb gently stroke his forehead. Your touch was so comforting. So soothing. It calmed his initial urge to panic as a result of the massive wave of pain and confusion that hit him as soon as he opened his eyes.

“Toji, you’re alright. You were in a construction accident.” Another voice spoke up, but Toji’s eyes didn’t bother searching for the source. They were on you — the pretty, unfamiliar woman with the voice of an angel, smiling at him.

— ⚕️—

It took several days for Toji to regain the strength to move. Talking was a lost skill to him for weeks.

God, were head-to-toe injuries painful. His nurses informed him — when he could manage to stay conscious, at least — that unsafe conditions led to him falling from a dangerous height while working at a construction site. Most people would have died instantly during an accident like that. If they were lucky enough to survive the initial fall and aftermath of collapsing debris, then they more than likely would have died on the operating table.

But Toji, however, had a brilliant surgeon who operated endlessly for hours upon hours to save his life. Brilliant.

Was it you? The pretty, unfamiliar woman with the voice of an angel who smiled at him when he first awakened? Just where did you go?

You suddenly walked into Toji’s room as if his thoughts had summoned you.

Before you could speak, he asked, “You the one who saved my life?”

“I am. My surgical team and I worked very hard. I’m glad you pulled through. How are you feeling?”

“Took you long enough to come check on me again,” Toji ignored your question, speaking with a soft, tired smile. “Haven’t seen you since I woke up. Was starting to think my mind made you up.”

“Actually,” you paused, approaching the side of his hospital bed. “I came by almost every night to check on you. You were just fast asleep. You can thank our pain medication for that.”

“Hm . . .” Toji’s eyelids were growing heavy. He spoke over the beeping vital monitors and IV pumps. “Guess I owe you one for . . . saving . . .”

He was fast asleep.

You smiled down at his face, which, although bruised and bandaged, was still quite handsome.

As you walked away, you heard the black-haired man mumble in his drug-induced state, “. . . so goddamn pretty.”

—⚕️—

The following physical therapy-filled weeks were rather difficult for a man like Toji. The struggles he endured were not only physical, but mental as well.

After all, he prided himself on having such an athletic build and insane strength — the amount of pounds he could lift with ease was startling.

But for a while, he was no longer the man who could haul just about anything with very little effort. He was a man who needed assistance to stand up. To walk. And his spirit was crushed, even well after he regained those lost skills and was deemed recovered enough to be discharged.

He was rather certain that if it wasn’t for a certain angel sticking by his side throughout his two-month hospital stay, he wouldn’t have found the strength to keep going.

—⚕️—

Toji Fushiguro found himself at a local, quiet bar more often than he’d like to admit. Most times, a wave of self-hatred washed over him every single time he grabbed a seat and ordered a drink, but not today. Today, he was happy to walk into the bar, because you were there.

“Can I buy you a drink, doc?”

You looked up from your phone screen to find your former patient standing at the side of the little table you occupied.

“Toji?” You smiled. “Wow. It’s refreshing to see you outside of the hospital.”

“And without a hospital gown on, I bet,” a little smirk pulled at the vertical scar on his lips. “It’s nice to see you without that white coat on, ‘cause that means I’m no longer in that hospital, even if the coat is pretty hot on you. Who knew I’d have a thing for doctors.”

“Aren’t you straightforward?” You gave a little laugh, then nodded at the empty seat across from you. “Sit down. Join me.”

As Toji pulled out the chair opposite of you, he said, “I was kinda worried, thinkin’ I wouldn’t see you again after getting discharged.”

“Really? I figured after seeing me every day for . . . how long has it been, two months, right? I assumed you’d be sick of seeing me.” You took a sip of your water. Condensation coated the cool glass.

“Sick of the hospital, yeah, but not you,” Toji propped his elbow up on the table and rested the side of his head in his hands. “Anyway, about that drink. Get whatever you want. It’s on me.”

“Toji, you know you don’t owe me for saving your life. It’s my job.”

“I don’t care. I owe you one. But an overpriced drink wasn’t how I was gonna pay you back anyway.”

“Hm?” You raised your eyebrows. “How were you going to pay me back, then?”

“I’ve got a lot of ideas. One of them involves you comin’ home with me. Another involves a nice dinner, whichever you prefer. Though if you really wanna know what I think, I think you should pick both.”

You waited for any sort of indication that, perhaps, the handsome man was joking. But you knew Toji quite well after spending much time with him, and he never bothered with being dishonest or secretive about his feelings.

Hospital food tasted like crap? He said so. Exhaustion lingering within your eyes despite your professional smile? He pointed it out.

You gave him a smile, shaking your head in disbelief. The chair scraped against the floor as you got up to leave the table.

Toji wasn’t surprised to see you leave. He expected to be turned down, having been your former patient. Pursuing any sort of relationship probably disinterested you due to moral and ethical-

“Aren’t you coming?”

Toji turned around. You stood there patiently, having halted your footsteps a short distance away from the table.

“Huh?” He blinked. So you were interested. Another small smile couldn’t help but grace his face. “What about that drink?”

“Forget about it,” you waved him over. “I like what you came up with more.”

“Oh yeah? Which idea?” Toji asked, rising from his seat.

“Both.”

“Then let’s go, angel.” Toji grabbed ahold of your hand, guiding you towards the exit. “I hope you like Italian food. And my version of physical therapy.”

⚕️— 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

Sharp intuition and good instincts were valuable skills one needed in the medical field. As one of the most skilled surgeons in the hospital, the best of the best, according to your peers — and, well, your low mortality rate — your skill set was rather exceptional.

There was, however, a drawback to having good instincts. It was the impending doom you couldn’t shake when your gut told you that something was off.

Though your incredibly long shift had come to an end, you hadn’t yet left the hospital. After all, today, your surgeries were all brief and complication-free. The ER wasn’t too chaotic. Even your coffee tasted extra pleasant today.

Things were going well. Too well.

Your time working as a surgeon had taught you one thing: a peaceful day working in a hospital was a bad sign.

And those good instincts of yours? They told you not to leave just yet.

Many nurses darted their eyes at you curiously, silently questioning why you hadn’t yet run out of the building once your shift was over. Free time was all too rare for a surgeon, so why, just why, were you hanging around in the ER, leaning against the counter of the nurses’ station?

You were taking a tentative sip of your beverage when a car arrived outside of the ER’s automatic sliding seethrough doors.

A man stepped out, not wasting time with trivial matters such as shutting his car door, and he swung open another car door. You couldn’t see what he was doing exactly due to the distance. Not until he stepped into the ER with an unconscious, blood-covered girl in his arms.

“Sir?” You called out.

The dark-haired man didn’t respond. He was in a state of shock.

You and your medical team rushed to find a gurney, ready to assess the girl in his arms, but he wasn't ready to let go of her just yet.

You gave him a sympathetic, but urgent look. “Sir, you need to let us help her. Can you tell us what happened?”

No response.

The man himself was bleeding from his head.

“Sir,” you tried yet again, speaking softly. He didn’t look at you until you touched the bloody hand he had hooked around the young girl’s shoulder. “I promise I will try my best to help her. I need you to trust me.”

He blinked a few times as if coming out of a daze. He placed the girl on the gurney.

— ⚕️—

It was a car accident. The man, who was named Suguru Geto, sat in the waiting room for hours, refusing medical attention for his own injuries. The young girl he carried into the ER was one of his adopted daughters.

Operating on her with the information a nurse passed on to you in mind gave you the strength you needed to push through your exhaustion — to save a young girl on the brink of death.

“I need you to stay strong for me, Mimiko,” you mumbled against your surgical mask, putting down one surgical tool and grabbing another — your scalpel. “Your dad’s waiting for you, sweet girl.”

Though the girl was unconscious, you continued to speak to her throughout the operation.

You couldn’t help it — perhaps believing it mattered on a subconscious or even spiritual level.

When the surgery came to an end, you gave Suguru an update, informing him that Mimiko was stable for now and that he could visit her soon.

“Thank you.” A shaky, relieved breath escaped from between his lips, and though he was happy to hear the news, he started to cry. Tears were streaming down his face, mixing with the blood on his skin — he couldn’t help but break down over the situation, now that it was partially over.

You wasted no time in grabbing a seat next to Suguru.

Wrapping your arms around him, you held the stranger, rubbing his back soothingly.

“It’s alright,” you whispered kindly.

Suguru pulled away from you after a couple of minutes. You gave him a smile. However, it didn’t take long for the corners of your lips to dip into a frown.

“Mr. Geto, your forehead.” You rose from your seat. “You need stitches. Please let me help.”

It took a moment, but he eventually nodded and got up as well.

You were well within your rights to go home, to pass off this mundane suturing opportunity to someone with less responsibility within the hospital, but you couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

You were going to stick with this family throughout their entire healing process.

For a while, you treated Suguru’s wound in silence — beyond the general bustling hospital noise.

“You seem tired. Am I keeping you here past your shift?” Suguru suddenly spoke up.

You were silent for a moment, uncertain of how to respond.

“I’m just glad I was here, Mr. Geto.”

“Anyone who saves my daughter’s life can call me Suguru.” He stared down at the dried blood on his hands. “While you were still in surgery, a nurse gave me an update. She told me how hard you were working, and that you were speaking to Mimiko as if she was your own child.”

“I was. I like to talk to all my patients during surgery. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”

“Not at all, why would it? I appreciate it. You seem very caring.” Suguru would have smiled if he had the energy.

“Tired and caring, hm?” You grinned softly, finishing the last stitch.

“I’m sure I will come up with more adjectives in due time.”

Your smile widened, and even Suguru managed to give a tiny grin.

— ⚕️—

Suguru Geto approached you in the hospital hallway during your lunch break a few weeks later, on the day his dear daughter would get discharged. The man who you came to know after seeing him and his family on nearly a daily basis tapped your shoulder.

“Hm?” You turned around, and your eyes darted down to a packaged baked good in Suguru’s hands.

“What’s this?” You asked.

“Consider it a personal thank you for taking such great care of my daughter.” Suguru held out the tiny box, and you took the pastry.

“Oh, Mr. Geto, You didn’t need to do this for me. I was just doing my job,” you grinned.

“Your job was to save her life. To talk with her about her hobbies and interests . . . to comfort her . . . that was going above and beyond.” Suguru stared at you with sincerity and respect. “She’s been rambling on and on about you non-stop. I know you’re a busy person, but she said she’d still like to see you even after getting discharged, should you ever have the freetime.”

“Of course. She’s a sweet girl — both your girls are,” looking down at the sweet treat in your hands, you said, “and this looks amazing. You’re too kind, Suguru!”

“Believe me, I’m not normally a kind person. But you deserve every bit of kindness I might be able to spare.”

“A single father to two girls he adopted, who bakes pastries for other people? Sure seems like you’re pretty kind.”

Suguru stepped closer. He leaned down a bit, as far as he could without raising any suspicion from nearby medical staff and guests, and he whispered into your ear, “You just don’t know me very well. But I was thinking about how much I’d like to change that.”

“How so?” You whispered back.

Suddenly, Suguru stepped away. He grabbed your wrist, leading you towards the on-call room he fully intended on sneaking you both into.

You could hardly put the pastry down and lock the door before his lips were on yours hungrily. His hands were busy pulling off your white coat, your top, and undoing the drawstrings of your scrub pants.

His mouth made its way down to your neck. He sucked and kissed at your skin, all the while his hand snaked their way into your underwear.

“Remember when I started to cry, and you held me?” He asked softly, his breath patting against your skin.

“Yeah,” you replied. “I remember.”

“I think I should return the favor,” he paused, his fingers finding your clit while his other hand held you against his bigger frame. “Let me hold you while you cum.”

🩺 — @sad-darksoul @priv-rose @yihona-san06 @keriaonmarz @thequeenofcurses @he11okitty-mari @luvvmae @underworldsheiress @notgoodforlife @levisfavoriteteashop @insomniacbehaivour @preciousamethyst @kxmorrx @iwanttohitmyself @ellaumbrella1 @lil-apple-pie @prettypixigrl @averysmolbear @starstoru @starlightanyaaa @dolphin1135 @ioveartfilm @filhadaanarquia @blackdxggr @jaegergirl @gunslxtz @he11okitty-mari @deadrevenge @koikohib

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