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#you've been around a long time huh
daesungindistress · 2 years
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Hi, me again, a long-time fan, especially of the Carnivores series. I saw you took down Carnivores. I understand why, but I would like to share my thoughts. Please hear me out.
Unlike some of the other stories you took down, Carnivores is all about Daesung. To me, it is about Daesung’s temperament, resilience, and all the little things cute and lovable about him. It is about how he copes with the world around him. It is not about that person at all. How can that very minor, irrelevant part of story, or person, take away something so beautiful. This, sadly, kind of already happened in the real world. I just hope it won’t repeat again here, or ever.
You and many of us probably gave that person too much credit. Do you find him remotely interesting enough to be really worth your time and struggle? Is that person worth you throwing away all the hard work and talent you put into Carnivores? Carnivores seems special to you, like it is to me, and he is not worth it. The world is a complex jungle, we can never overcome all the evil, but at least we can celebrate the light that we found.
Something more practical. In most chapters, except for Bright Like the Sun, that person didn’t really play much of a role. As far as I remember, he didn’t even show up in New Heights, Laying Claim, First of Many. These chapters also feel like they can stand alone. It is a tricky for my favorite chapter Dreams Like Ashes Float, but it is so beautiful that I just want to chop out that person's part. Or perhaps change the name? Just some ideas, not even suggestions. I am just sad that Carnivores is now gone for something so irrelevant and forgettable.
Anyway, if taking down Carnivores brings you peace of mind, please know that I respect and support your decision. I remember you were very happy and tremendously creative when you first came to this fandom. I hope you can get back to that good place, even if BigBang or even Daesung is not there. Just know that your work has inspired and is deeply appreciated by some fans.
Hi, wow, thank you 🥹
I quietly took down the Carnivores series in about October of last year, around the time I realized TOP's moon scene in Still Life was set in the future, not the past, and the music video was BIGBANG's way of telling us they were going to be apart awhile longer as they go their separate ways and pursue solo projects. I decided I should do the same -- focus on projects -- and turned my attention once again to Carnivores.
First of all, I took the series down for reasons only partly related to the former member. You're right; for the most part, his role in the story is relatively insignificant, with a few exceptions, the biggest being Bright Like the Sun, which, uh, is filled with a whole slew of problematic messaging given the state of BIGBANG today -- most notably the Seungri rescue scene toward the end (after a landslide, stuck in the mud under a crumbling bluff) and Daesung's insistence on not leaving him behind. Carnivores goes hard on the theme of family, of a "found" family -- in this case, a found family of five. Because a long time ago (in a galaxy far, far away...) that was my absolute favorite thing in this fandom. As it is now, I'm deeply uncomfortable with promoting that subject matter using the names and likenesses of the BIGBANG members, even in my past work.
I'm sorry you're sad about Carnivores being gone. I thought a few people might be when/if they found out, and I still feel a twinge of guilt over snatching it away from the few people who liked it. But my reasons for taking it private aren't all bad or sad. Not to me, anyway. I'm not ready to share in too much detail because it's still in the extreme early stages, but the plain truth is I took Carnivores down because I have plans for the series. Non-fanfiction plans. I want to turn it into original fiction with the goal of publishing it.
But before that... I need to rewrite the whole thing. Overhaul it all. No one will be removed from the story; everyone's names will be changed. Well, they already have been. After some brain retraining (lol) and a brief adjustment period, I don't even think of the guys in terms of their BIGBANG names anymore; I now think, talk, and write about them using their new names. Someone once said to me (once upon a time) that as much as the characters reflect their inspirations (the members), they have lives of their own. Though it's taken some time, in the years since I concluded the series in 2018 (and in a way, the hiatus helped with this) I feel I've finally managed to unlink them from their inspirations. While preserving their personalities, of course, and holding tightly to everything I came to love about them while developing and telling their story all those years ago. They're still familiar and dear to me, and I still want them to be known... just in a new and improved way. And to a wider audience.
On the one hand, I'm really excited about it. On the other, I'm a little overwhelmed. I spent a few weeks in the fall reading through the series slowly and critically, returning to it in a way I hadn't since its initial run in 2016-2018, and I thought, "Well, it's a start." I didn't hate it, but it was so much worse than I remembered haha. Yet, at the same time, it was neat to see my growth as an author from beginning to end, and by the time I reached Innocence and Instinct, there really wasn't much I felt required major revisions. All in all, what I used to view as a finished product I now see as a first draft. To take what I have, 300 thousand words in 8 parts, and reshape it to fit my new vision will be no small task!
You're correct in sensing that Carnivores is special to me. It always has been and I'm sure always will be. Unlike those other stories I took down, removing it from my list of fics is like gutting my body of work. Yes, the events of 2019 did dampen my fond feelings for it. But I've since found a way to love it again, and to even breathe new life into it. It's set to undergo so much change (expansion and enrichment) I didn't want it "out there" anymore in its original form, where anyone can access it and see what it used to be. And I needed to disconnect it from BIGBANG, preferably long before it reaches the publishing stage. If I can be successful with this, I think it will all be worth it.
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absinthemindedly · 2 months
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Anyone else feel like someone being kind to you breaks some cosmic unspoken rule that demands repercussion, or is that just me?
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tojigasm · 2 months
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i just need to be idk, babied by logan, even though he knows that twenty something isnt a baby, hes showing you how to smoke properly, your sitting on his lap and taking sips of his drink, he lets you lay your head in his lap and cuddles up to him at night with ur cheek against his stomach and he just like, takes care of you? like he pets and humours and tolerates and when ur fucking hes so caring, stroking hair and kissing ur cheeks and forehead ur honour i want him so bad
And you get it soooo fucking bad because the idea of him being so paternal with you is something that just rots me to my coreee you guys. And there's a semblance of casual dominance about it that just makes me sob.
He's in the middle of fucking you. His chest pressed to your back, his skin flush to your own as he stands curved over you on your hands and knees on his bed. He keeps an arm wrapped around your chest, keeping you upright as he rolls his hips into, pressing a long kiss to the back of your head.
You'll be at the counter in the kitchen late at night, working on whatever when he wanders into the room in a grey hoodie and sweats. He makes his way to lean against the countertop, peering over at your notes. "Y'need anything, baby?" He'll eventually ask, running his knuckles over your forearm as you continue to write. "Mm, maybe water," you say, almost jumping out of your seat before you're being pushed back into the leather cushioning of the chair. "Let me do it fr'ya, sweetheart." And you don't get your glass of water until after he's "secretly" stolen a sip. He stands next to your seat at the counter until you're all done.
He's the first time you experience smoking. The smell of tobacco is heavy in the air while he sits on the front porch of the mansion. You've always been one to try new things and Logans never been one to deny you almost anything and so of course he holds the blunt of the cigar to your soft lips and lights the tobacco while you look all pretty fr'him. Takes you a couple tries and a few lessons in watching Logan easily breathe in the smokey tar, but you catch it eventually, earning a "atta' girl." From Logan.
Has you sit in his lap during movie nights at the mansion while he nurses a bottle of Jack Daniel's. He keeps a hand wrapped around your hip and the other on the neck of the bottle. Ever so often, you'll motion towards the bottle, and Logan'll hold you by the chin and tilt the bottle to your lips only for a second before pulling it away. You try to reach for it back, and he's pushing your hand away with a "C'mon, kid, that's enough." And you better not argue, it'll start an hour long discussion on how he knows best.
Or how the two of you will be lying on the couch after finishing a movie. You're resting against his chest as he runs the tips of his fingers up and down your back softly. And he'll just start giving you quick pecks here and there over your cheeks and on the tip of your nose and your forehead and chin before pulling back to look you over. He'll soothe the palm of his hand over the soft apple of your cheek, whispering softly "Yr'my baby, huh."
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suguann · 3 months
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✎. he’s nice. well, that’s what everyone’s been telling you.
tags. fem!reader, mild dubcon, possessive and obsessive behavior, simon is an excon, non-linear narrative for future chapters [18+ only]
part one | part two
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He’s always been a little obsessed with pretty things, even as a child.
It only makes sense that the habit would follow him into adulthood.
He sees you once while he’s walking by the bus stop. A timid thing wrapped up in an oversized sweater and parka coat, not looking up from the little book in your lap until the bus stops before you and takes you away.
The next time he sees you, he makes sure to come a few minutes earlier, lighting a cigarette and keeping his distance while he watches you read the same book from the day before. Simon knows it’s you, the girl from the letters, even if it’s a big city. It has to be—his pretty, lonely, silly girl.
He thinks about walking up to you just to make sure, but he doesn’t really need to. The address on the envelope brought him here, and you’re the only one he’s seen wearing a university sweater in this neighborhood.
But when he hesitates too long, a boy starts talking to you, and he watches you smile at somebody else.
Simon runs his thumb over his bottom lip and takes a deep breath to fill his chest with the soothing feeling of menthol and the burning taste of nicotine, trying to relax his white-knuckle grip on his steering wheel. 
You’ll learn, he thinks, when the bus drives off, and the boy doesn’t follow you on. He’s a patient man—it’s possibly one of his finer qualities.
He lets his car idle as he climbs out before crushing his cigarette bud underneath his shoe, straightening his black tie, and crossing the street. The boy sees him and freezes, but Simon can only laugh, wiping blood off his cheek several seconds later.
You’ll learn.
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He’s nice.
Well, that’s what everyone’s been telling you. But nice, you've learned, can mean any number of things: a nice laugh, a nice house, a nice job, et cetera.
But how he holds himself—tall, broad, and dangerous—hardly screams nice.
It’s funny because you don’t remember seeing him around the office before—the company, including IT, occupies only four floors in the building. 
Someone tells you he’s a friend of a friend. This initially sounds odd until Rose, the office gossip, says he’s someone rich who helps fund the company's social events. Hence, the crisp suit and the wide berth of space you’d give someone who wields their smile like a weapon. 
You quickly look away twice when you find that smile aimed at you, heat traveling up to your hairline at an alarming rate.
It doesn’t matter anyway. He’s not your type. 
“Enjoying the party?” 
You nearly jump out of your skin at the deep voice so close to your ear. Careful not to spill your drink, you turn your head to find him smiling down at you with a sharp curl of his mouth.
Then he’s in front of you, eyes dark and crinkling in the corners.
“Uh, yeah. It’s not bad, though,” you squeak nervously when you realize you haven’t answered him. “It’s different from what I’m used to.”
He raises an amused brow. “Oh? And what might that be?”
He’s intimidating up close, and you take a small sip of your drink to ease your nerves. “Well, no kegs or trashy music playing, and boys with egos bigger than the room.”
The man lets out a low chuckle as he considers your honest reply, and you swear you see something ripple across his features, but when you blink, it’s gone. “I suppose that differs from top-shelf liquor and live bands, huh? Which is better?”
You shrug. “Well, it depends on who you ask.” 
“I’m asking you.”
“Honest answer?” 
He nods. 
“Neither. I don’t really care for parties.”
“Then it’s quite unfortunate that you found yourself at one tonight.” He seems privately amused, in on a joke you have no part of. Then he says, “You want to get out of here?”
“I probably shouldn’t follow a stranger home,” you tell him bashfully.
“That’s very responsible of you. Then how about I get you a drink? There’s a hotel across the street, and the bar’s not shit.”
You bite your lip, and his big, warm hand is on the small of your back before you say anything. It must’ve been written all over your face like he knew you would say yes.
He’s ever the gentleman, unlike most boys your age. Though, perhaps that’s the difference. He isn’t a boy—nothing about him can hardly be described as such. This fact becomes a bit overwhelming and more evident once he has you on your back, thighs nearly up to your ears, and held in place by a firm, intricately tattooed forearm.
His smile—almost too sharp to be nice—makes your chest do this silly thing when he says, “Let’s play a game.” 
You whisper into the night air. “What kind of game?”
“It’s simple. You tell me yes or no.”
Your brows furrow, unsure of the rules of the game. “But—”
The slap against your cunt isn’t harsh, but it’s the suddenness of it, how no one has ever thought to touch you like that, is what makes you squeak and tremble underneath him—the rings on his fingers sharpening the sting—trying to scurry up the bed, but hindered by his iron grip.
“Yes or no?”
“Y-yes.”
“There’s a girl,” and then his fingertips drop down to where you're slippery-wet and sensitive, moving in hard, tight circles until you're clenching down on a curse between your teeth. "Messy little cunt."
It's too much, you think when he plugs two fingers (feeling like three of your own) into your pussy. The muscles in his shoulders roll as he shoves his fingers in and out, batting your hands away when you try to get him to slow down. Too much, too—
“It’s not. I want you to cum like this,” he says, teasing, nudging your clit with his thumb and swirling it in tight spit-slick circles; you have no choice but to chase that bright light feeling until you cum, sticky and sweaty. 
Just like he promised you would, your orgasm is a shivery thing, molten heat, incandescent, settling in your veins until it pours out of you like liquid wax against the scratchy hotel sheets, but he doesn’t stop. Instead, his fingers curl up and press into where you’re soft and tender.
He smiles. “This is fun, isn’t it, love?”
“I can’t,” you whimper, not exactly answering him. “No more, please.”
His eyes, already pupil-fat, go dark at hearing you beg, nostrils flaring. Please, the key for the small amount of mercy he grants you as he replaces his fingers with his mouth, pressing a chaste kiss to your clit and lightly sucking it into his mouth. His lips are just there, and then they’re gone.
“Say it again.”
Your response is a wet little hiccup at the back of your throat. “W-what?”
“Beg me.”
“Please.”
“Again,” he says one more time.
“Please, please, please…”
It’s all you can think to say, strung between that dreamy space and reality, that you don’t even notice him flipping you onto your tummy with ease, not until the light in the room is blotted out as he leans over you. He wraps a hand into the scruff of your neck and presses your face into the bed, the other tucked under your hips to keep them at the right angle—held down with nowhere to go.
He leaves biting open-mouthed kisses across your shoulders and the back of your neck—Simon—he manages to tell you his name from one little bruise to the next. Somewhere between the buzz in your ears, you hear him telling you that he wants you to moan it for him, nice and loud.
The haze clears a little, however, at the metal clink of a belt and the sound of a zipper coming undone before you feel his cock prodding you open—raw, without a condom.
“There you go. Lay there, and just—just give me what I fucking want,” Simon rasps as if you could actually move with his hands pinning you in place. 
There are many things you should feel: scared of his words, trapped by the rings digging into tender flesh, by his thighs forcefully pushing yours apart. The red flags look more like flashing lights at this point.
Instead, you feel wanted—your walls tighten around his cock, fluttering, pulling him deeper inside, letting him turn you inside out. A small smile buried into the pillow.
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rowarn · 6 months
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cw: gun play, throat fucking with a gun im sorry, simon coming untouched, masturbation (reader) I NEEDED TO GET THIS OUT OF MY BRAIN SO unedited
simon with a gun kink that he's kept hidden would be crazy.
imagine ur big, beefy husband coming home after a long deployment. he's tense, his fists are clenched tight and it's clear he's got a ton of steam he needs to blow off.
at first, you expect a normal night together of him plowing you into the mattress so hard that the bed creaks and hits the wall with every thrust. the kind of fucking that leaves you trembling for 15 minutes after you've finished and cleaned up. the kind that has him pulling you into his arms to soothe and coo at.
but something is different this time.
he starts removing his gear one by one as usual but instead of removing the holster with his gun and safely placing it down, he unholsters the gun completely.
you're watching with bated breath as he unloads the weapon, carefully pulling it back and peering into the chamber. you're watching his hands move, admiring how strong his fingers are and how the veins in his hands bulge out with every movement
you deviously excited by the time he approaches you -- the gun still in his hand.
he brings it up, placing the nozzle against your chin, finger hovering off the the trigger. but you know how well-trained he is -- how good he is at his job. you know that he could have that finger on the trigger in a milisecond, faster than you would even be able to comprehend.
"open," he orders, a voice that sends shivers down your spine. it's firm, rough, authoritative. it's a tone you imagine he uses when he's on the field.
soliders bow to his every whim and you're no better. but unlike those who are trained to obey him because it's their job -- you obey him because you know if you do, you'll get the sweetest reward in the world; that thick, full cock still hidden in his pants.
your panties are already wet and sticky and your brain’s already feeling fuzzy by the time you open your mouth. 
the shock of cold is the first thing you recognize followed by the tang of metal as the weapon settles on your tongue. your lashes flutter as you look up at your husband, face still obscured by his balaclava but his pretty, brown eyes burn holes into you nevertheless.
he slowly and carefully slides the gun deeper into your mouth until it presses against the back of your throat and you involuntarily gag. a groan rips from his cheeks as he watches the tears gather on your lashline.
"that's it, pretty," he coos, "bet you wish that was my cock huh?" you nod your head as best you can with the weapon lodged in your throat, "maybe i'll give it to you if you put on a real nice show for me."
his words take a moment to register in your fuzzy brain but once they do, your hand is flying down between your legs at record speed. you slip it beneath the band of your panties, barely lifting his shirt that you're wearing out of the way so you can finally find relief in the ache that has settled in your cunt.
your folds are wet and sticky as they part around your fingers and you struggle to swallow around the gun in your mouth. there's no give to the metal and drool begins to dribble down your shin in long, thin strings.
simon's cock is hard, heavy and leaking against his thigh. this has been one of his best kept secrets, to watch you submit to his gun -- to the weapon he has used to murder countless people with.
and here you were, doing as you're told, throating his gun while you play with your pretty cunt. he can hear how wet you are, can see the way you desperately hump your own hand trying to get your fingers deeper and deeper. but they'll never feel as good as his, you both know this.
so all you can do is tearfully look up at him through clumped lashes as you choke and gag on the gun he continues to keep stuffed down your throat.
his cock throbs at the thought of being where his weapon is now. he envies it.
you mutter something, muffled and incomprehensible but he knows what you're saying. he can see the way your pupils blow out, hear the way your breathing grows erratic and choppy. you're trembling and breathless, messily jerking your hips into your own hand as you desperately look up at him -- begging for anything to push you over the edge.
his finger finally lands on the trigger of his gun and he sees your eyes widen but the desperate, teary look you give him only tells him more of what you need.
there's a muted, empty click when he pulls the trigger. the gun is empty, you both know this -- but it sends you over the edge anyway.
simons cock twitches and twitches, balls tight and heavy before he's spurting his load down his thigh at the sight of you cumming on your own fingers and moaning around his gun.
the hand holding the weapon trembles as he cums untouched at the entire scene. you pull your head back, gasping for air before pulling your hand out of your panties.
simon lurches forward, you don't even have time to react before he's taking the sticky, messy, cum-covered fingers into his mouth.
he's on top of you, pressing you down beneath his weight, the gun tossed and forgotten on the bed because now all he can think about is fucking you into the mattress. <3
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lemonlover1110 · 10 months
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𝐏𝐀𝐘 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄!
Choso
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Pairing: Choso x f!Reader
Summary: Your boyfriend completely stops focusing on you after you give him a gaming console for his birthday. Luckily, you have a very clever way of reminding him that you also need his attention.
Warnings: MDNI, smut, oral sex (m. receiving), masturbation
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Getting your boyfriend a gaming console for his birthday was truly the worst mistake you've ever made. The moment he turned on the console, all the attention that was rightfully yours, went to a monitor and a controller. Sure, Choso isn’t the most affectionate boyfriend but at the very least he’d give you attention.
You would be attached to the hip, you’d give him all your physical love while he’d do you a favor; whether it was getting you a glass of water or preparing your favorite snack. But now that’s not happening. You try to spend time with him but he’s always on his fucking game, and it annoys you more than you’d like to admit. 
“Do you want to watch a movie tonight, babe?” You walk to the living room, finding him with his headphones on, eyes dead focused on the TV. You sit down next to him, and your usually calm boyfriend suddenly begins to scream, the match pissing him off. You roll your eyes, tempted to turn off the game, but you know that’ll ensue a huge argument. You clear your throat, and repeat your question.
“Huh?” He responds, and you glare at him. You decide that you won’t ask the question for a third time. You’re about to stand up and walk away, but your eyes go to his sweatpants, and a much better idea comes to mind. You suck your bottom lip between your teeth and ponder your options. You’re touch starved because of the stupid game console. But Choso doesn’t deserve it.
Your hand still goes to his thigh, and you get on your knees on the floor. Maybe doing this for him will make him remember that he still has a girlfriend with a lot of needs. He can’t pause the game, risking for him to lose when he looks down at you. Utter confusion then clarity hits as your hands go to the waistband of his sweatpants. You give him the cutest eyes while a wicked smirk comes to your lips before asking him, “May I?”
“Have fun.” He responds, his eyes back on the screen. You pull down his pants and boxers, letting his cock free of its confinements. 
Your hand wraps around the base of his shaft and you spit on his cock a couple of times. Your tongue drags on his dick before it gets to the tip. Your tongue circles the tip before you hollow your cheeks and wrap your mouth around what you can take of his cock. It doesn’t earn much of a reaction from him. His game is that much fun.
Your hand wraps around the part that isn’t in your mouth, stroking it while you bob your head. Your free hand goes to his balls, massaging them to get a sound from him, and you feel like you’ve succeeded when you hear a whimper from him. You look up at him, his eyes still focused on the TV but you feel his attention drifting. 
You stop playing with his balls, your hand goes down your own shorts and gets in your panties. Your index and middle finger run through your folds before you begin to play with your clit. Sucking him off always turns you on so much. And it works more now since you’re in dire need of attention.
You try to take all of him in your mouth, your eyes immediately filling up with tears as you gag on his cock. You hear a soft moan from him, and your teary eyes watch him finally break his focus. You finally let his dick go, gasping at a breath of fresh air. It doesn’t take too long for your mouth to wrap around him again, going back to all you can handle. You push two fingers inside your pussy and begin to move them in and out of you, moaning on his cock. 
“Ah… shit– fuck fuckfuckfuck–” You hear, and you watch him toss the controller to the side. He doesn’t care if he loses anymore, his attention has been captivated. He whimpers again before praising you, “You’re doing so good…”
Your fingers go back to your clit, playing with it a bit more before stopping. You have a feeling that your night is far from over, and he won’t edge you. On the contrary. He’ll be generous tonight after you’ve been so generous to him.
He gets more vocal as you continue, letting you know that he’s close to finishing. Maybe after this he’ll finally remember what he’s missing out on while he focuses all his attention on a stupid game. He’s missing out on his pretty little girlfriend in a hundred different ways– If you do well enough he might smash the console into pieces (he won’t).
“I’m gonna–” His breath gets caught up in his chest, his hand going to the back of your head and pushing your head down before he fills your mouth up with his cum. He holds your head still for a moment, and when he finally lets go, there’s a smirk on your face as you swallow every drop of his cum. 
“Did that change your mind?” You ask.
“Let’s go to the bedroom.” He completely ignores the game on his screen, completely focused on you.
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hairmetal666 · 4 months
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They're sitting in Eddie's bedroom, Steve propped up in the bed, flipping through some sports magazine, Eddie curled on the floor using his knee as a table as he scrawls notes for Hellfire's next campaign. Metallica spins on the record player, volume low. They're doing this more and more, being together and doing their own thing, music a soft backdrop to it all.
Eddie's deep into his planning, enough so that he manages to forget that Steve Harrington is in his bed. He keeps hearing something, though. It just manages to catch at the edge of his awareness, but when he fully tunes in the only sounds are Steve flipping a page, Ride the Lightning, the shift of blankets as Harrington taps his fingers. It happens a few more times, but when he tries to catch it, it's gone. Steve hasn't reacted at all, to the point Eddie wonders if it's all in his own head.
The next time, he's interrupted before he even gets back into it, that noise again, but this time, now, he's aware enough to see that it's Steve. And he's not, like, reading the magazine out loud to himself. No. He's singing along.
To Metallica.
And he wasn't idly tapping his fingers before. He was tapping along to the beat.
"You're singing along?" He asks before he can stop himself.
Steve looks up, a faint smile on his handsome face. "It's not too bad."
"Not too--Not too bad." Eddie's nearly screeching. Can't wrap his mind around Steve--"You've been listening to Metallica on your own? You've been--you--" He jumps to his feet, notebook spilling onto the floor. Steve's just looking up at him with big eyes and a gentle grin.
"Sure, Munson. You like it, yeah?"
He nods, mutely, unsure how he so thoroughly lost the plot that Steve's been listening to Metallica just because Eddie likes it.
"Got a taste for any other metal bands I should know about, Harrington?" He flops down on the bed, making Steve bounce a little.
"Well, Dio's pretty okay."
This time Eddie does really, actually shriek.
---
Eddie swans into the kitchen to greet Steve, who's already lounging on the couch with a beer. There's another one on the coffee table, waiting for Eddie.
"Just helped yourself, Harrington?" He teases.
Steve shoots him a look. "Wayne grabbed them before he left. What the hell took you so long?"
He can't say it's because he wanted to look nice with Steve coming over, even if they are just getting high and watching movies. Of course taming his hair took so long that he didn't have time to find a shirt, and Steve's knock at the door had him grabbing the first thing he could and jamming it over his head.
"You want chips?" He asks.
"Wait--Eddie--" Steve stands, pointing at Eddie's chest.
"What?"
"That's my--oh my god, I've been looking for that."
And, well, he had thought it was a little strange that the t-shirt he grabbed was gray. He pulls at the fabric, stares at the upside down Hawkins Tiger with a basketball in its mouth.
"It's my favorite sleep shirt. I thought Robin took it and you--"
Eddie's face heats. Steve's shirt. Of course. Steve stayed over one movie night, forgot the shirt, and Eddie. Well. He was going to give it back, but--
"Here, man, my bad." He goes to pull the hem over his head. "I didn't know it was your favorite."
"Nah," Steve says. He's sitting back on the couch. "You should keep it. You look really--" he pauses and takes a sip of beer. "It's nice on you, Munson."
He's sure his blush is a horrendous thing to witness, has to fight the urge to hide in his hands. "Right. Uh. Chips!" He whirls towards the cabinets, refusing to think about the matching pink stripes across Steve's cheeks.
---
"C'mon, Munson, you're hogging the covers." Steve's sleepy mumble cuts through the dawn quiet.
"Mmph," Eddie groans. Rubs the soles of his feet against Steve's shins.
"You're a dick," Steve grumbles. He shimmies closer, which is what finally does the job at fully waking Eddie.
"Wha--huh?" He blinks.
"You stole the blankets, man. If you're not going to share, the least you can do is cuddle."
"Uhh." Eddie is sure he's dreaming, but Steve's warm, strong arm slips around his waist, pulls them together.
Eddie doesn't know what to do. Where he should put his body. Does he relax into it? What do his arms do? They're not usually this rigid, right? But what do they do when he's sleeping? Somewhere in his gay panic, he has the presence of mind to grab the edge of the blanket and throw it over his friend.
"Better?" He asks. His voice is all wrong but maybe Steve will attribute it to tiredness.
"Mmm." Steve's grip tightens around his waist, his nose nuzzling against the nape of Eddie's neck. His breathing is already slow and deep.
Eddie can't imagine sleep finding him anytime soon. Not when Steve, his crush, his best friend, is holding him like this. Not when he now knows what the real thing would be like. Not when it's so impossibly out of his grasp.
---
Steve and Wayne are watching a Cub's game. Eddie's curled up on the couch between them, trying to work on a sketch, but his brain keeps skipping to a song he's writing. The lyrics have been easy, coming to him like nothing, but the melody...he wants it to be heavy, loud, wanting, but it won't fit.
He glances up at Steve, chatting with Wayne about some baseball thing called a ribee. His hair's not done, flopping softly around his forehead, and he's wearing his result-of-too-many-concussions glasses, the yellow sweater from that horrific boat ride, retrieved by one of the kids and painstakingly washed by Karen Wheeler.
Steve looks sweet, soft, relaxed. He laughs at something Wayne says, and Eddie's a lost cause. He's just fucking smiling at the pretty boy on his couch, hanging out with his uncle, too far gone to be able to fight it.
A melody forms in his head, and it's soft. Not sweet, no, but gentle. Almost tender. Nothing like he imagined.
---
It's early, early enough that Wayne's not home yet, but he got tired of trying to sleep. Didn't want to bother Steve, who still softly snored in Eddie's bedroom. So, he grabs his acoustic and his notebook, goes out to the couch to work on the song. It's coming along, really good, one of his best. He hasn't shared it with the guys yet. It's--he's not ready, lays him too bare.
There's a clatter from the kitchen, Steve's voice, deep and sleep rough, says, "Hey, Munson."
He pushes the guitar and notebook aside. "Did I wake you? I was trying to be quiet, I'll--"
Steve shakes his head, pads into the living room. He's wearing the yellow sweater, a pair of Eddie's sweatpants, bedhead rampant. He curls up next to Eddie, pulling the couch afghan over his feet. "What're you working on?"
Eddie's ears get hot. "Nothing much. New song I've been noodling on."
"Cool." Steve's smile is little and fond. "Play it for me?"
"Ahh," Eddie says. His hand twitches around the neck of the guitar. "Not sure if it's quite ready for that."
"Oh, yeah." Steve nods. His face does something weird and squiggly that Eddie's never seen. "Just never heard you play before. Thought now might be...you know."
Eddie swallows, hard. "Well, maybe we'll get a show up at the Hideout soon."
"Of course. It's just--this is just you."
He blinks at Steve for a few long seconds, can't believe he's about to do this, but--It's not like Steve will know it's about him, anyway. "It's not a full song yet, alright? Just a verse and half of a chorus, so like. Don't judge it too hard."
"I would never." He can sense Steve's smile but can't look directly at it, knows it would kill him.
He situates the guitar, spins the notebook to read the lyrics like they aren't already burned into his brain, starts to play. His fingers are deft and sure, his voice a little rough, a little raspy with nerves.
The song ends and he's afraid to look at Steve, to see the thoughts written plane on his face. The silence extends, though, and he asks. "So, what did you think?"
"It's--that wasn't what I expected." Steve's voice is weird. Wobbly. Eddie chances half a glance at him, but can't make anything definitive out from his expression. "I didn't think--that's not the kind of music I thought you made."
He licks his lips, swallows. Puts his guitar down. "It's not usually."
"It was a love song." Steve says. His eyes burn into Eddie's.
He can't say anything for seconds that seem to span minutes. "Yeah, Steve," he says in a voice cut with gravel. "It's a love song."
"Eddie," Steve whispers. He reaches out then, thumb tracing along Eddie's jaw, the scars that linger there from the bats. "Is this okay?" He can only nod as Steve's hand twines through his curls.
He's shaking, just a little bit, not because he's inexperienced but because this is Steve, because it's happening, because their lips are meeting and a trembling noise falls from his mouth at the sweet way Steve kisses him.
It's gentle and quick, but they don't part when the kiss ends, stay sharing air as their foreheads rest together. Eddie can't stop smiling.
"Please tell me I'm not dreaming, Stevie" he whispers.
"You dream about me?" Steve asks, eyes blazing.
"I wrote a song about you, and you think dreams are a reach?"
Steve laughs, brushes a kiss against the tip of Eddie's nose. "I loved the song."
"Yeah?"
"Can't wait to hear the whole thing."
"Well, stick around for a while."
Steve leans in, kisses him again, longer this time. "Just try to get rid of me, Munson."
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hanasnx · 7 months
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MINORS DNI 18+
! ── BABY DADDY!JASON TODD who can't come around more than once or twice a year. His way of life isn't sustainable for a home, and it certainly isn't safe for a daughter. You and him decided it was best to part ways before that positive pregnancy test, and since he discovered a kid he helped make it didn't change his level of involvement. He's got a lot of eyes on him, and he can't draw attention to anything important to him.
! ── Your daughter adores him. She squeals with delight every time he visits, running full barrel towards him so he can scoop her up. Unbeknownst to her your concern with how he found you again, and how he broke in to the apartment. Apparently running and hiding is not enough when you face the Red Hood. You reluctantly greet him with a half-assed kiss on the cheek, wrapping your arm around his neck to incline him towards you. Your daughter on his hip takes full advantage of hugging you both at the same time, and pressed against your former lover makes you tight-lipped.
! ── He's dangerous for a number of reasons that span beyond what any angry enemy of his would do if they found out where he's been going. You're most afraid of what he's able to make you do the longer you're with him. Only able to hold onto your anger for so long until he melts that cold exterior and somehow convinces you to let him warm your bed again.
! ── He's got it down to a science. As soon as you give him that scathing look, he tells your daughter to run along because "Mommy and Daddy have to talk." while she thoughtfully strokes his chin with her little hand, only to nod with an audible sigh, shaking out her wild hair she won't let you brush. With a little push to her back, she scampers off to her room and he stands to his full height. "I just wanted to see her." he tells you, with that pleading tone you've fallen for countlessly because he knows you're going to say: "It's not safe." for the thousandth time.
! ── He'll tower over you, incline towards you while you scold him under your breath. A hushed argument ensues that your daughter tries to listen in on, and can only hear bits and pieces about how she's not owned, and her dad should get to see her. Stuff she doesn't understand, especially because she can't understand his lack of presence being such a complicated thing when she has no sense of object permanence. If a dad refuses to be there more, it's a problem. You want to cut Jason out completely. That's not fair, as he'll tell you, to the daughter you get to keep.
! ── It's in the way he stands next to you. He's so much taller than you, broader, and muscled. He bulks up more and more every time you see him. He doesn't use his size to intimidate you, rather takes advantage of something else. Big hands stuffed in his back pockets make his leather jacket sit on his wide shoulders exquisitely. His hair is windblown from his motorbike and just the smell of him has a dangerous Pavlov effect on you. Like your eyes want to flutter as they roll into the back of your head and lightning shoots straight down to your core, stinging at the memory of what it's like to be filled by him. The longer you're with him, the thinner your resolve becomes. It evaporates in front of you as he sweeps a hand through his hair, and his posture slacks. "C'mon." he drags out the word playfully, advancing on you. Your hand interrupts him, bracing on his firm chest to keep him from coming closer. "Can't we talk about something else? You're getting me all worked up. Missed you."
You roll your jaw, that resolve slipping. Addicted to him, you're reticent as his tongue darts out to wet his lips while he's eyeing yours. "Jay..." you murmur, and he can hear the defeat in your voice.
! ── "Lucky we got a sitter, huh?" Jason's smug voice cuts through the wet sounds of sex that fills the room. "Now I get some time with my other little girl." That sick delight causes you to reach back, weakly banging your fist against his thigh. He snickers, wolfish and husky resounding from the back of his throat. "Mommy's been missing me, huh? Can feel her clenching down on me like a fuckin' vice."
His thick cock hurts stretching you out, but you needed that pain. There's something about Jason that keeps you saying yes, and it pushed through your requirement of foreplay, unbuckling that belt in haste, comfort be damned you wanted that dick. You're on all fours and he's giving it to you from the back, just how you like it, fucking you like a dog while his hand tangles all up in your hair. He yanks you back by it, and you can't even think of what to say other than mindless pleasured babbles.
"You let me do this every time I come over. Seems like you fuck with me or something." It's true, regardless of the cruel insults you've thrown at him to get him to stay away from you, it's all because you can't say no to him. It's the reason you got pregnant, it's the reason you can't run away far enough, and it's the reason you fuck him every time he comes to visit the kid he helped make.
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writersdrug · 13 days
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I NEED waitress!reader accidentally letting it slip that she’s got a date after her shift and so when bartender!simon overhears, he suddenly has a list of things she needs to do after work, causing her get to stay late ))): missing her date ))):
ANGST TIME
He's been watching you like a hawk for the past two hours - and rightfully so. You've been rushing through your tasks, rolling more than enough silverware, keeping your tables happy and stocked - you somehow managed to convince Soap to mop front of house for you. He doesn't like it. Why are you trying to get away?
"Got a date tonight." You tell him, skimming through your receipts as you sit at the bar and calculate your tips. You're not off the clock yet - you still have thirty minutes left. But the restaurant's empty, and all your tasks are done. Your makeup is a little nicer today, softer and less "morning after a deftones concert".
Simon's thankful for the mask, or else his frown would be impossible to miss. Is he dumb? Haven't you been flirting with him all week? Was this another one of your games, pretending to act innocent and coy, messing with him, then announcing you're going out with someone else?!
He feels his shoulders tensing as he watches you tap away at your phone's calculator. He shouldn't be so bothered by this - some things just need to be let go. But he can't. He wants to keep you in his back pocket, or in an empty whiskey bottle on his liquor shelf - not the one behind the bar, but the personal collection in his room on the third floor.
"That's nice," he grumbles, slicing through a lime. "Jus' make sure you finish your chores 'fore you head out."
"Already did!" You chirp at him with a smile. "Just need to do my tips, and I'll be done."
"Did ya clean the ice bins?" He asks.
You furrow your brow. "Huh?"
He jerks his head to the whiteboard on the wine fridge - sure enough, your name is scribbled in, right next to "drain and wash/sanitize ice bins + buckets", along with today's date.
You look back at Simon, your expression now crestfallen. Your date is in an hour, and you still have twenty minutes on your shift. "Don't you usually do it?"
Truthfully, he does. He could do it today, in fact. But his brain is acting on thoughts before he has the chance to consider the consequences. "Can't today, luv. Preppin' for a bigger crowd tomorrow."
Your shoulders slump. "How long does it take?"
"Well, you got to turn 'em off - one by one, I can't have two empty ice bins durin' a shift - then ya dump the ice, wait for 'em to warm up, then ya go in there with soap n' a rag, rinse 'em out, then-"
"God, can this please wait until tomorrow? I'll come in early and do it, I promise."
He looks at you sternly, and you suddenly feel ashamed for asking. "Wot, so I can pay you overtime?"
"Simon, please - if you do them, I'll give you half my tips for today."
"Now y' dumpin' your work on me?"
"I've got a date!"
"I've got my own shit too!"
You snap your mouth shut. He's never been this stern with you, but you know it's well deserved. It's your chore, after all. You'd been wrong to assume he would do it himself, despite that being the usual. You quickly hop out of the barstool and make your way behind the bar, unplugging the first icebin.
Simon watches as you scurry around, running to and from the ice bin into the kitchen, filling up bucket after bucket of ice and dumping it into the sink in the back. You pace as the machine warms up, glancing at your phone every few minutes, then touching the inside of the ice maker to check the temperature. After a few minutes, you're scrubbing the machine as fast as you can with a soapy rag and a bucket of sanitizer eater next to you.
Twenty minutes have gone by. You're supposed to be on your way to your date, but you're biting your lip, staring angrily at the ice machine as it cools down again. You need to wait for it to be cold before you refill it with ice, and only then can you start on the other machine.
You make another attempt towards Simon. "If I just do one tonight and do the other in the morning-"
"No." Simon snaps, his eyes angry as he drops a container of sliced fruit onto the bar. "This is part of havin' a job."
You look away from him, tears stinging your eyes now. You're so frustrated you want to snap back at him - but he's right, isn't he? Maybe you could ask him if you could just call Max and let him know you'll be running late - but the thought of asking Simon for anything right now (other than more chores) makes you queasy.
Simon doesn't know where the anger came from, but it's still simmering. He watches as you continue to run back and forth, filling up the old ice bin, unplugging the second one, dumping the ice in the back... he's refilling the bloody Mary mix and restocking the bitters. Simple things. He's got nothing to do after this besides go up to his flat and sit in front of the telly, or maybe chat with Soap before he heads home. Why didn't he just do it? Because you had a date, and that was a problem for him. Why? Now you're upset, and it's that knowledge that makes him finally feel the shame that he'd been swallowing down.
You finish dumping the last bucket of ice into the second machine. It's forty minutes after your shift ended. You still have to get to the restaurant you and Max were meeting at, which is a twenty minute walk. You were supposed to be there ten minutes early - now you're going to be an hour late. Frustration mingles with anxiety and burns in the forefront of your mind. But you can't be mad. You should've done your job.
Simon doesn't say anything when you run to the back, your phone pressed to your ear and tears in your eyes. You barely manage a wave to Soap as you grab your bag and jacket and flounder back into the restaraunt. You don't look at Simon.
"I'm leaving now, I'm so sorry- I had to finish up at work and it too longer than I-" you slowed to a walk, then a stop, standing in the middle of the floor. Simon was frozen, watching your shoulders shake.
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize I had-... it's not an excuse, I promise I'm-... listen, we can go for a walk or something, right? Or go get fast food, someplace still open, just you and me, and we can try again another-"
His eyes burn in his skull as he watches you stand there for a few more seconds, staring at your phone as the call disappears from the screen. He wants to say something - but what can he say? He's already fucked you over. And he doesn't feel any better than when he first discovered your little date. He feels worse.
You stuff your phone in your back pocket, unable to hide the single, choked sob that escapes your throat. You shoulder your bag and stomp your way out of the restaurant, door clanging behind you. Your bike is still in the alley out back, and your unfinished tips are still on the bartop. He wouldn't be surprised if you never come back to collect them.
Soap emerges from the kitchen breaking Simon from his thoughts and wiping his hands on a rag. "Real feckin' kind of ye, Ghost. Never seen such a right cunt." He glares at Simon, before slapping the rag on the table and heading back into the kitchen. His shift was over, too.
Simon has three more hours left to deal with himself before the bar closes.
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writingouthere · 8 months
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singlemom!reader x neighbor!Sukuna. You and Sukuna have been dancing around each other for weeks, and when you tell him you've found another apartment for you and your daughter, he decides he's had enough.
cw: smut, breeding kink(heavy emphasis), Sukuna is a bad dude but you know that already. Your daughter's nickname is Bug but she's given no official birth name.
Sometimes, Sukuna remembered how much he felt like he would die if he didn't touch you back when he first met you. Now, he wanted to go back in time and punch himself in the fucking face because that him, that him did not know what it meant to suffer.
The past few weeks since the birthday party where he felt like you had finally, finally seen him had been the worst, but somehow best, weeks of Sukuna's life. On the surface, not much had changed. You still were crashing at his place, he continued to take on more and more caretaker duties with your daughter and the two of you were continuing this dance where you participated in the outline of what a relationship between the two of you could be but for some reason, you still seemed hesitant to embrace it completely.
Sukuna could be patient, he had been patient, but the fact that you two still weren't together when he was positive now it was what you both wanted, it was driving him insane.
You looked at him more than you did before and sometimes he would catch these quick glimpses of a desire that burned him, that made him want to show you just how much he had been wanting you. How he was never going to want anyone but you. But then, he would look again and you were back to feeding your daughter or cleaning a dish and just continuing with this facade where you were just crashing temporarily at his place.
Sukuna could feel the tension tighten across his back and shoulders as the three of you finished dinner. Your daughter was telling a story about something her and her "Uncle Uuji" had gotten up to when Sukuna's brother had been babysitting that afternoon, and you were smiling and giving the right "oohs" and "aahs" when you had looked over at him.
You looked so content and happy that Sukuna felt his shoulders relax in response. The waiting was killing him, but he reminded himself it was worth it, he was so close he could almost taste it. Soon, he wouldn't need to hold himself back and he could hold your hand and kiss you anytime he wanted, while his daughter monopolized the dinner conversation. You were both so clearly meant to be his and if he needed to give you some more time so you were comfortable, then he would give you more time.
Feeling at peace with his decision, Sukuna took the lead on bedtime duty that night. He read your daughter a story-"Do the voices 'kuna!" "I am doing the voices, kid"- and then tucked her in. He pressed a kiss to her forehead as she was struggled to keep her eyes open.
"Night, Bug."
"Night, 'kuna."
Sukuna finished tucking her in while you watched from the doorway. He was about to leave when the little girl grabbed his wrist.
"Love you."
Sukuna felt something catch in his throat and all the sudden he was a scared kid again holding a little Yuuji to his chest so the roaches that were all over the floor of their apartment didn't touch him. A fierce protectiveness lit up his chest and he promised to himself, for not the first time, that his little girl would never know experience any of that. It had taken him years to get Yuuji out of there, and Bug had already lived a few years without him, but she was home now and it was clear she knew that too.
"Love you too, Bug." He couldn't resist pressing one more kiss to your daughter's forehead but the kid was out like a light already. You moved aside so Sukuna could close the door, which he did very gently.
"Took her long enough tonight, huh? I think I'll still be able to recite 'Goodnight Moon' when her grandkids ask for it."
You don't smile and he knows you're aware he's joking about the time. There's a reason you're co-owning story time now, Sukuna isn't developing his voice actor repertoire for nothing.
He goes to put his hand on your shoulder but you move back a little as if you're trying to avoid his touch. Now he's concerned.
"You okay?"
You shake your head and gesture your head towards the living room. Sukuna follows, not appreciating the uncertainty he's feeling at your strange mood.
When you get to the living room, you hesitate and take a seat on the armchair. Usually, you only use it when you're reading or doing something on your laptop. Whenever you're together, you always share the couch with Sukuna and he notes the decision to distance yourself with distaste. He's sure the wariness shows on his face as he goes to sit on the side of the couch closest to you.
"Alright, what is it?"
You bite your lip and he's about to ask again, with less patience ,when you take a deep breath and begin. Your eyes trained down on your lap.
"I found an apartment for me and Bug. It's close to the daycare and it's a little smaller than we're used to, but it will work for now. A friend helped me find it and there isn't even a creepy landlord! I'm going to sign the lease Monday and we should be able to move in next weekend. So, I just wanted to thank you for everything."
Sukuna thinks he's stopped breathing and he feels a wave of anger so intense he can taste iron against the back of his teeth.
"You're leaving?"
You take another deep breath and nod while Sukuna's world continues to fall apart.
"I think it's time. You know, I appreciate everything you've done for me and bug. The past few months have been amazing and we never would have gotten through them without you."
Sukuna doesn't have it in him to let the pause you leave sit there long. "I keep telling you, you don't have to thank me. It's really fine. I like having you here."
You look down at your fingers where he sees it looks like you've been picking at them. He gets a bad feeling, worse than what he was already feeling.
"I know and that's-it's really nice, really."
"Great."
"But, I think it's starting to get confusing."
"Confusing? What's confusing?"
You go on, ignorant to, or ignoring the rage that's rising in him.
"It's just, when we were at that party a few weeks ago and everyone kept asking about us and if we were together, and about our situation, it's obvious that what we're doing isn't normal."
"Not normal, how?" Sukuna prompts and he's going to snap if you keep refusing to even look at him.
"You don't just crash with your neighbor for months on end because your apartment flooded. They don't help you with chores and spend all your time together. Neighbors don't babysit your daughter-"
"I like spending time with your daughter, that's not a favor I'm doing for either of you," Sukuna finally snaps, annoyed that the special moment he'd shared with Bug earlier was being overshadowed by you denying the relationship he'd been so careful about building with her. "I told you, I care about both of you and I don't give a fuck what other people think about our situation. I chose to let you both come and stay with me and I like the life we've built here."
You finally look up at that last part and your eyes are full of tears. Sukuna is able to hold back some of his anger at the sight of you in such clear distress.
"That's the thing, we're not building a life here, this is temporary and I think we've been forgetting that." A tear slides down your cheek. "A few days ago, Bug brought home a picture she drew in daycare. She drew the three of us as a family, Sukuna. She thinks you're going to be like her new dad and how am I going to explain to her that you're not going to be in her life when this is over? She barely understands what happened with her dad, I can't do that to her again."
Sukuna seethes. "Don't compare me to that piece of shit. He hasn't even tried to contact you or Bug since you moved in."
"Well, he's still her dad-"
"No, he fucking isn't," Sukuna is done and you're crying freely now and he doesn't understand where he went wrong with all of this. "In a few years, she won't even remember that bastard. I'll be the only father she's ever known because I'll be the one that's actually here."
You laugh a little and wipe at your face but it just exacerbates the mess. "What are you even talking about? You're her neighbor, Sukuna and when we move you won't even be that."
"Is that all I am to her? To you?"
"What else are you supposed to be?!"
Sukuna is so pissed, he doesn't know how he's going to recover from this. This is not what he wanted at all and here you were now-
Crying, you were crying.
The pieces started connecting and Sukuna realized that he wasn't being left. You weren't rejecting him or what he was to you or to your daughter. You were panicking. You were doing what you had been taught to do by everyone else in your life, to leave them before they could leave you.
You were right, after all. You were confused.
Sukuna was going to fix that.
You must have noticed the abrupt shift in Sukuna's mood because you seemed puzzled as Sukuna started to smile. You didn't have time to ask any questions before Sukuna stood up and walked over to your chair.
"Sukuna?"
"I see now, I wasn't clear with you. That must have been so frustrating, sweetheart."
You'd stopped crying in your bewilderment. "Sweetheart? Sukuna, what are you doing-"
Sukuna shushed you as he leaned you so you were face to face, his body almost shielding you from the rest of the room. You blinked a few times to adjust to the lack of light as he blocked everything else but himself from view.
"I'm going to help fix your confusion, sweetheart. You seem to think I've just been doing this all out of the kindness of my heart and I want to assure you, that's not the case," he says, leaning his forehead against yours. "See, I'm actually not that kind and if you were anyone else, I wouldn't have given you a place to stay, even with a brat."
"You don't mean that-"
"Yes, I really do. I don't help people, I don't give a fuck even whether they live or die. The only people I give a damn about are Yuuji, you and the kid and that's it. When I say I would have left anyone else to tough it out on the streets, I fucking mean it."
"You don't give yourself enough credit," you argue and Sukuna finds it adorable. "You're making it sound like-"
"Like what, princess?" Your breath hitches at that one and his grin turns predatory. "Oh you like that one, I'll keep that in mind princess." You gulp and he watches the way your throat moves and can't resist pressing a kiss to it.
"S-Sukuna-"
"No, no, go on princess, you were telling me what you thought the reason must be for me doing all these things. Go on, tell me your theory. You're a smart girl, I think you've figured it out."
"You like me," and the way you say it as almost a question is so endearing Sukuna can't hold back the trail of kisses he plants up your throat until he gets to your jaw.
"No, I don't like you princess." You seem to accept this and you're nodding, opening your mouth to probably say something stupid when Sukuna cuts you off. "Like isn't enough to describe the way I feel about you."
"Really?" You're so hesitant and sweet as Sukuna presses kisses up and down your tear stained cheeks. A new one slips down your cheek and he holds your face with both hands as he licks it up before it can fall all the way. You're almost panting now and he loves it.
"Trust me, I haven't gone to all this effort just for some lousy date or to get my dick wet." He leans back so he can see your face and cups your face so he can tilt it up to look at him.
"You're it for me, princess. This isn't temporary and I'm not going to let you go. Either of you."
"Sukuna, it's one thing to be interested in me but it's another to just-to just say you're going to parent my kid. I mean, she's a person you'd be tied to your whole life."
Sukuna hums, finding it cute how much you're still not grasping the situation. "All of your children will be mine, that includes Bug."
You laugh. "Children, plural?"
"Definitely plural." Sukuna looks your body up and down making his meaning clear and you seem determined to try to be the voice of reason as Sukuna goes back to kissing your cheeks, your temple, your forehead.
"We're not even dating, Sukuna."
"What do you call the past few months? We spend every day together, go everywhere together, we live together, we're raising your daughter together, what else do you need to know about me?"
"I'm wondering if there's in fact very important things I need to know about you." That's his smart girl and Sukuna finds the suspicion adorable, especially since it doesn't stop you from tilting your head so he can get to your neck.
"Well, you'll have the rest of our lives to get to know me," he nips at part of your collarbone that's exposed by your shirt and you hiss before gently pushing him away.
"Okay, this is nice."
That word again.
"But, just because you're interested in me and care about my daughter, that doesn't mean we should just jump into something. I still think the best thing would be for us to figure this out after Bug and I have our own place-"
"No."
You look confused, obviously thinking you misheard him.
"I'm sorry, you can't just say no, it doesn't work like that."
"But you can just decide to leave our home, with our daughter and for what? So we can do a worse version of what we've been doing? What purpose could that possibly serve?"
"Because this is too fast for me?"
"We already live together," Sukuna points out and knows this isn't the moment to mention he's the one who destroyed your apartment to make that happen.
"That doesn't mean we'll be good together."
"What exactly are you worried about? Do I not do my share of the chores?"
"No, that's fine."
"Do you not enjoy spending time with me?"
"Of course, I enjoy that," and he smiles smugly at that and pulls your arms gently so they loop around his neck.
"Do I not take of our daughter?"
You seem like you want to fight him on the 'our' but he goes back to kissing your neck and the way you tighten your grip lets him know you're getting distracted by the attention.
"She loves you," and that soothes the last bit of anger that had been present in Sukuna. Now, he was just ready to get started on the next part of your lives.
"Oh I see, so it's that I haven't been taking care of you? I'm so sorry for neglecting you. Don't worry, I can fix that right now."
Even if Sukuna kisses you a million times, he's never going to forget what it feels like to kiss you for the first time.
Your lips are soft and so warm. At first you don't react, your mouth still poised as if you're going to argue one last time, but then you're relaxing, leaning in and you give this sigh of relief and Sukuna knows you're hearing the same voice that he's hearing in his head.
This one.
Sukuna has long assumed that love and romance was nonsense shit for weak people who needed to find purpose. Sukuna wonders what it says about him that he thinks his purpose in life might have just been to find you.
You're kneeling on the chair now, Sukuna still hunched over so he can hold you. He's getting annoyed at the angle and how it's stopping him from feeling more of you and so he slides his hands down to your waist and pulls you up to him. With one hand on your hip, he uses his other to wind your right leg around him, you moving your left to follow suit. The new position has your core pressed up against where he's already half hard and you sigh into his mouth so beautifully, that he can't help but use the opportunity to explore your mouth.
It's hot and sloppy and so good that Sukuna moans and your legs tighten around his waist in response. The living room feels hot with every breath you exchange and he can hear the sounds you're making fill the space. Thinking about the child sleeping not nearly far enough away, Sukuna starts to walk you towards his room.
Even when he wants to be responsible and not have his first time with you interrupted by your daughter, he can't stop himself from pressing you up against the wall at least twice before you finally get to his room.
It's going to be your room now too, and he's so happy it disgusts him a little.
Sukuna has you pressed up against your door, one hand holding your waist and the other grabbing your ass so he can control the way you're rocking up to meet him. He angles you down a bit and you both moan at how the position lines you up to grind directly on his cock. There's too many layers separating you still, and it's that thought that pushes him to finally open the door.
He makes sure to lock the door behind you before he tosses you on his bed. On your bed. That's never going to get old.
He crawls over you and is back to kissing you into the mattress before you even have time to fully catch your breath. You're panting into his mouth and he nips at your top lip as you pull away to breath, catching it in his teeth. You don't need any prompting to spread your legs and he fits between them like he was meant to be there, letting his weight drop enough on you so you can feel him.
While he's excited to finally explore your body and see what he's been thinking about for months, he's having a hard time separating from you long enough to move any further than you are. Sukuna usually doesn't care much for kissing, but kissing you is different. He thinks he could kiss you all night even if his hard cock very much disagrees with that sentiment.
Fuck, if you kept grinding your cunt on him like you were, he may just come before he even gets inside you.
It's that thought that finally makes him get up on his knees to take his shirt off. You follow suit under him and he can't stop from kneeling down to kiss at your newly exposed skin. You're not wearing a bra and your tits are too perfect for him to ignore even for the sake of getting to your cunt.
These are the same tits that fed your child and will one day feed his and something about that gets to Sukuna in a way he hadn't ever really thought about before with other partners. It makes him softer, more gentle with his worship and you thread your fingers through his hair when he takes one of your nipples and sucks it gently in his mouth. He releases it so he can leave a few quick hickies around your chest. You're squirming so hard underneath him, he has to press you down with a thigh slotted between your legs to hold you still.
"Sukuna," you whine and he hushes you before leaving another mark under your collarbone.
"I'll get there, pretty girl. Just use my leg for now," he says continuing to leave marks wherever he can while you groan underneath him.
"I want you inside me," tempting but Sukuna is getting greedier the more desperate you are. Maybe if he fucks you hard enough, you'll stop thinking about stupid shit like needing your own apartment.
"I'll be inside you soon, I just want to taste a bit first. The way you are, I think humping my thigh will be enough to get you off," he teases and you whine, embarrassment clear in your voice. If you can still be embarrassed, more proof you're not ready for his cock in you. He presses against your cunt harder and he can feel the warmth of you on his thigh even through your leggings and his pants. He moves in a way more meant to tease than to provide you any relief and your frustration is clear when you start moving your hips to a faster, harder rhythm.
Sukuna smirks against your marked up throat when your whines start getting faster and closer together. You're still holding onto his shoulders when your grip tightens and you let out a gasp signaling your release.
Sukuna laughs meanly as you take in deep breaths, body still shaking from your orgasm. "Wow, someone was really pent up. No wonder you're having trouble thinking straight," he teases as he moves so he can take off his pants and boxers, giving his cock a quick stroke, drawing your hungry gaze down. "Don't worry, I got you. I'll give that tight cunt what it needs."
You pull him down so you can kiss him again and you're uncoordinated now, but Sukuna likes you better like this. Likes the proof that he's making you feel good. He presses down and your fingers scratch where his neck meets his scalp pulling out a moan that vibrates through his chest. He breaks off your kiss because he really does need to get inside you or he's going to come, and while the vision of you covered in his seed is a compelling one for another time, he plans on coming inside you first.
Sukuna pulls on your leggings until you get the hint and lift your legs so he can pull them off, leaving you in a pair of familiar blue panties. He laughs when he sees them and you come out of your daze a little bit, so he pulls them off too and tosses them aside so he can get to where you both want him.
Sukuna lightly touches your slit and smirks down at you when his fingers come away wet. Keeping eye contact with you he brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean and holds down your wrists with his free hand when you try to cover your face.
"All this just from my fucking thigh, just from some kissing. I'm starting to worry my cock might actually kill you."
You glare up at him and he grabs your leg as you try and kick him. "If you're so worried, maybe I should just leave then?"
Sukuna laughs and you gasp when he brings his fingers back down to you, slipping in two fingers to the knuckle. Your pussy is tight but you're so wet, he slides right in and he can't wait to get you on his cock. He brushes his thumb against your clit as he stretches you out, your voice leaving you in pants and gasps that are making him feel like a god.
"You're not going anywhere princess, not tonight, not on Monday, not next weekend," he moves so he's covering your body. His lips catching yours mid-moan. "When I'm done, you're going to be too tired to keep running from me."
He pulls his fingers out and you whine at the sudden emptiness but he keeps kissing you as he moves so his cock is touching your entrance. He moves it up and down, wetting himself in your slick. He cuts off your kiss so he can see your face, wants to look at you when he fucks into you for the first time. Finally getting some oxygen to your brain and the feeling of his cock pressing into you seems to bring your thinking back online.
"Wait, Sukuna, a condom," you say and he grins, not even pretending like he's thinking about it.
"We don't need a condom."
"Yes, we do, I'm not on birth control," you say and Sukuna has to tighten his grip on himself so he doesn't come.
"And?" He asks and he slips just the head in, you let out the cutest noise and your pussy clings to him as he pulls out.
"I-I could get pregnant, Sukuna!" He hums like he's actually thinking about as he presses in again, this time moving another inch into your tight cunt. It's teasing you both and he doesn't know how much longer he's going to be up for conversation as he pulls out only to thrust in, again just barely giving you his cock.
"Good, Bug wants a sibling. She was telling me how excited she'd be to be a big sister."
"Sukuna!"
"What? You don't think we'd make a cute kid? I think they'd be as beautiful and as brilliant as their mamma," Sukuna would take your protests more seriously if your pussy wasn't literally gushing. He could swear his balls were wet with your slick and you weren't even really fucking yet.
"This is a big commitment, Sukuna. It's not a joke."
"Good thing I'm not fucking joking then," Sukuna kisses you again and nothing beats the way you gasp into his mouth when his rubs the head of his cock against your clit. "You really want me to stop? Want me to go away? If you tell me you don't want my baby, that you don't want to be my little wife and grow our family, I'll go find a fucking condom. But I'm going to need you to tell me that. Make sure you're loud, princess. I'm a little distracted, right now."
You hesitate and Sukuna thinks he might actually have to try and figure out where he stashed his condoms, since he hadn't gotten laid in damn near six months when he feels your hands move to cup his face.
"And if I want that?"
Sukuna feels his heart skip a beat despite it all, your hands on his face feel just as intimate as all the rest, another way you continued to humble him.
"Want what, princess? Going to have to be more specific for me."
"All of it, the family, the baby, everything." You seem to be drawing on your courage and Sukuna is proud of you despite himself. "I want you, Sukuna."
Sukuna crashes his mouth into yours and you follow him willingly. He uses his hand to guide his cock into your cunt and you move your hips, greedy for him, as he slowly pushes in. When Sukuna is finally in all the way, he feels a warm contentment fall over him. Imagining this, it had always been defined by a frenzy that he finds absent in the actual event.
Maybe it's because you've finally acknowledged him and what he means in your life, but he doesn't feel desperate as he fucks into you slowly, his thrusts purposeful. He feels victorious. The satisfaction curls around his body and makes your lips sweeter, your hips fit even more right in his palms and your cunt wraps around him like it was molded to fit his cock. He doubts you were made for him, you were too good for that, but he had managed to get you anyway and you're recognition of his possession over you made him smile into your mouth.
He kept his pace slow, thrusting deep enough inside you each time that you couldn't stop the way your breath hitched at the feeling.
"Sukuna!"
"Yes, princess?"
"F-faster, please!"
"So polite, how could I say no," his voice is more breathless than he means it to be but he doesn't give a fuck. Not when your pussy is so sweet, or given the way you moan for him as he begins to pick up the pace. Sukuna loves the way you sound but he thinks of the little girl sleeping down the hall and he covers your mouth with his hand.
"Don't want to wake up our daughter, do we?" Something about that makes you tighten up and your eyes roll backwards and Sukuna thinks he knows what it is.
"Gotta make sure I can put this baby in you, right? You did so wonderful with the first one, I just got to see it happen again." You're moaning so loud Sukuna isn't sure his hand is doing much good, but you're both close enough he doesn't think about trying to stop you aside from a throw away thought about gagging you with your panties.
Oh well, thoughts for next time.
And the idea that there would be next times, that you were going to his to fuck anytime he wanted, had Sukuna reaching down to play with your clit. He could barely stand to pull out of you at all and at this point you two were more grinding than fucking but it was so good, you were so good-
"Come on princess, you're almost there. Be a good girl and come for me and I'll give you a baby, I promise. Just need to feel you come on my cock."
You bite his palm as he feels your cunt spasm and he only gets in another few thrusts before he's coming too and he hopes it takes. He presses his lips against your temple as you catch your breath and he continues to kiss your face as he feels himself soften inside of you.
Later, he'll clean the two of you up and finally get you under the covers. He'll get to hold you in his arms and feel what it's like to fall asleep with you. He'll also wake you up for another round so he can make sure Bug gets that little sibling he was now very excited to meet.
********
When Sukuna wakes up to you in his arms, he's debating waking you up for round three when he hears the sounds of sniffling and little footsteps outside. He gently moves your body off his arm and gives you a pillow to cuddle when your body turns to look for him. Your little pout in your sleep makes him feel bad for the trick but there's someone else who needs him right now.
Throwing on his pajamas, Sukuna makes his way out to the hallway, shutting the door behind him.
"Good morning, bug."
"Morning, 'kuna," your daughter is holding onto a little plush fox that Yuuji had won for her at an arcade a few weeks ago and she's still sniffling looking confused. He thinks he knows why.
"Your mom's asleep in my room, kiddo. She's okay, she's just sleeping."
"Why is she in there?"
This is a loaded question and Sukuna knows he should probably ask you on how you plan on introducing your relationship to your daughter, but he feels that same unsettled feeling when he looks at her sad face now that he had felt looking at your tears the night before.
Sukuna leans down and holds out his arms and Bug goes to him, trusting despite her confusion, and he picks her up and carries her to kitchen. He puts her down on the counter so she's as close to his eye level as she can get given her size and he decides to be honest with her.
"You know how I love your mom?" Bug nods her head and Sukuna feels warm. "Well she loves me too, so we decided we're going to share a room from now on."
"Forever?"
"Yeah kid, it's going to be forever."
"Can I sleep with you too?"
Sukuna smirks and then kisses her forehead. "Sometimes, but you're going to want to stay in your new big girl room I think. It's way cooler than the boring adult room."
"Big girl room?" Her eyes widen and there's a familiar gleam of ambition.
He's got her.
"Well now that it's your own room", and her eyes just get even bigger at that. "You're going to need all your own stuff to make it yours."
"All mine?"
"All yours, Bug. At least until you have a little brother or sister, you may have to share then. Would that be okay?"
"Yes!"
Bug jumps on the counter and then into Sukuna's arms and he holds her close to him as she burrows her face into his neck. He breathes in the smell of her hair and he's so relieved now that he knows she's going to stay here forever, that you both are.
"Does that mean we're going to stay with you?"
"Uh huh, you're stuck with me. I'm never leaving."
Bug pulls back and holds out her pinky finger. "Promise?"
"Yeah, kid, I promise."
Many, many years from now, at your thirtieth wedding anniversary, Bug will stand up and tell the story about the day Sukuna became her dad. Her mom, her siblings, her Uncle Yuuji and many attendees will cry, but Sukuna will maintain his dry eyes and his dignity.
Or that's what anyone should say when asked.
He'll still kill a motherfucker.
That's it, it's the end! I may return to this universe in little drabbles but the main story is done! As a fatherless daughter, ending it with Bug was very necessary to me. I also think a big part of this story is Sukuna finding fulfillment in the family he was denied growing up(projecting is the name of the game here).
Much love.
4K notes · View notes
satansdarlin · 2 months
Text
Royal flush
Gambit/Remy LeBeau x Fem!Reader
NSFW tags: Oral fem receiving, breeding kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)
Minors DNI
Word count: 3126
Not beta read so excuse any grammar mistakes
Written because of an idea from- @fandomzwriterk 💜
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Remy was like a dog caged as he watched his loving partner bouncing Jean and Scott's son on her leg as she chatted to Jean. Why did she have to look so good just doing something like bouncing a baby? He loved her, he really did. But seeing her so close with another family just... irked  him. Jealousy wasn’t a normal thing for him. But (Y/N) just looked so damn happy. He was trying not to watch, but... he couldn’t stop himself. He leaned against the wall and just... watched her. It wasn't like he was jealous of Scott or Jean for spending time with her. No, in fact it was a far different reason. He was jealous because.. it should be him and (Y/N) doing that with a kid. Gah, he was getting worked up just imagining it. Imagining her all big and pregnant with his kid, her glowing that special way only pregnant women did. Holding their kid, being a perfect mom. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts as he continued to stare.
She glanced up feeling his stare and gave him a soft smile. He was surprised that she caught him staring. He was usually better at going unnoticed. He returned her smile, albeit a bit sheepishly. Damn, he felt a bit like a middle schooler, being caught staring at his crush. He didn't need to feel sheepish he internally reminded himself they had been together for so long and his ring was decorating her finger now. Kids wasn't something they had talked about yet both anxious about the idea of having children. Being mutants and still having to fight back against the anti-mutant campaign was hard enough imagining having a little bundle of joy that was also a mutant? Terrifying. But... the thought was intoxicating. Just imagining her belly swollen with their kid. Merde, he was getting worked up by this whole chain of thought. He couldn’t help but imagine her being all motherly, holding a baby, breastfeeding. His baby. He shook his head again, trying to clear his thoughts.
She passed the baby back to Jean and made her way over to her husband.  "You've been starin pretty hard" she spoke in a teasing tone. He couldn’t resist returning the teasing tone. 
“Well, can you blame me, baby?” He eyed her up and down again, almost salivating. “You’re lookin’ pretty damn good tonight.”
She glanced down at herself in slight confusion. She was just wearing one of his older shirts and some jeans. A completely casual attire.  "You're just easily impressed, hun”
He laughed. “You’re wearing my shirt. You know how much I like seein’ you in my shirt.” He reached out, grabbing her hips and pulling her close against him. “Besides, even if you were wearin’ a potato sack, you’d still look damn good.”
She snorted a bit and kissed his cheek not minding how his scruff scratched a her lips.  "You're actin off baby. Somethin up?”
He let out a hum, pulling her in closer so she was against his chest and he could wrap his arms around her. “Just watchin’ you with the kid got me a bit worked up.” Understatement, he thought.
She looked up at him with a sense of understanding.  "Yeah? Kids huh?" She didn't sound judgemental or opposed but rather curious. 
He leaned down, resting his forehead against hers. “Yeah. They ain’t ever really been a though in my mind. But…” Damn it, he was going to have to say it out loud. “Watchin’ you with that kid… I couldn’t help but imagine you with our kid. Bein’ all… motherly. I like how you looked.”
She hummed softly at this her eyes scanning over his black and red ones. "Well i think it's only natural. We been married for a while now." She spoke gently 
He nodded, unable to deny it. “We’ve been together for a while… and yet… a baby’s never been a thought in our minds, not really. I mean, are we really prepared to be parents?” He was being honest, despite how excited he was to see the sight of his wife with a baby in her arms.
"Well.. we could start preparing if you are wanting to take that step" she gently ran her hands over his shoulders. 
His heart skipped a beat. Here she was, not outright refusing the idea, but actually considering it and preparing to talk about it. “Are you wanting this?” He had to make sure, had to make sure she didn’t just agree because it made him happy.
"Baby I've been thinkin we would have adorable kids the moment we met" she giggled softly
He chuckled, pulling her flush against him. “Damn right they’d be adorable.” He leaned down, kissing right below her ear. “Can you imagine it? Little brats runnin’ around, wreakin’ havoc?”
She hummed softly. "Oh it'd be terrible" she teased as she felt one of his hands press against her stomach absent mindedly.
He let his hand roam, imagining the flat stomach swelling with pregnancy. “You know they’d take after you. Get your cute little nose and eyes.”
"Bet they'd get your hair." She hummed running her hand through his hair to emphasize her point. 
He chuckled, enjoying the feel of her fingers running through his hair. “They’d get your temper, too. I’d almost feel bad for ‘em.” He teased her.
She rolled her eyes and her gaze trailed over her lover. "Wanna get out of here?" She spoke in a hushed tone with a quirk of her lips into a smirk
He chuckled, already knowing what she had in mind. “Thought you’d never ask.” He pressed his hips against hers, already feeling himself getting aroused by just being this close to her.
That's how they ended up back in their shared home. Clothes decorating the floor from the front door to their bedroom. The bed creaking and headboard being muffled by the pillow stuffed behind it. She was clawing at his hair as he held his post between her legs lapping at her like a starved man.
He was damn near worshiping her, holding her tight and not letting her get away. “God, sweetheart, you taste so good,” he groaned, lapping at her like she was the source of his life essence.
She was whimpering and mewling as she fisted the sheets like they were a life line. She gripped onto his hair with her other hand gently tugging as he drug his tongue across her sensitive flesh. 
He was absolutely loving the sounds she was making. He knew exactly how sensitive she was, and he knew every single trick of his tongue to drive her crazy with pleasure. He was taking his time with her, enjoying every single second, savoring how good she felt and tasted.
She gasped out, her back arching like a cat as he pushed two fingers into her. He curled his fingers inside of her, knowing exactly how to draw out that pleasure and drive her absolutely wild. “You like that, sweetheart?” He teased her, his breathing a bit labored from his own aroused state.
She nodded desperately. "Yes rem love it feels so good" she whined out in that breathy needy tone he loved to hear her speak in. A tone reserved for his ears only. 
Damn, he loved how desperate she was. How needy she was. She was his, and his alone, and he’d make sure she knew that. “I’ll make ya feel so good, baby,” he murmured, latching his lips around the sensitive flesh and sucking.
Both hands went to the sheets clawing at the silk fabrics and the plush mattress underneath. 
He groaned against her, the sounds she was making and how desperate she was getting was driving him wild. He wanted to taste every inch of her, touch every single spot that would make her cry out with pleasure. He was completely intoxicated by her, like a drug he couldn’t get enough of.
The feeling of his vibrations against her made her mewl out loudly. "fuck!" Her words sent a jolt of satisfaction through him, making him smirk against her flesh. 
“That’s it… let me hear how good I make you feel, baby.” He curled his fingers again, knowing exactly how to draw out more desperate mewls from her.
She gasped out her hips pushing up against his arm holding them down. "Close" she squeaked out in a desperate mewl.
He could feel her getting closer, could feel her getting tighter and tighter around his fingers. He wanted to bring her over the edge, wanted to hear her come completely undone with ecstasy. “Come on, baby.” He pressed down on her hip harder, still relentlessly working her towards that sweet release. “Come for me,” he murmured against her, using every trick he knew to send her careening over the edge. “I wanna hear how good you feel.”
She cried out and her muscles contracted as she came undone. Her back bucked, her entire body trembling and twitching with the intensity of her orgasm. She was completely and utterly helpless under his touch. “R-remy….!”
He groaned against her as her body trembled and shook with pleasure. He wasn’t finished yet, though. He wanted to wring out every single bit of ecstasy from her that he could. “That’s it, sweetheart, let me make you feel good,” he murmured, his fingers working her through her orgasm and overstimulating her.
Her hands, shaking from the force of her orgasm, gripped his hair pulling him away letting out a breathy chuckle hearing him whine. "Baby I'd rather get on to the main course”
He groaned as he felt her grip his hair, preventing him from continuing his ministrations. When he heard her chuckling, he let out a whine, still wanting to taste her and bring her to climax once more. But hearing her wanting the main course stirred his excitement. “You sure you don’t want another?” He smirked, his usual overconfidence on display.
"This time I wanna finish around something bigger than your fingers" she wiped his face for him wiping off the left over arousal from her. He hummed, letting his tongue run over his lips to taste her again. 
“Such an impatient wife,” he teased her, wiping his chin on the back of his hand. “You want me that badly?” He asked, already knowing exactly what her answer would be.
"You know I do, baby." She inched her legs up over his hips. Now that wouldn't do. If he wanted to properly breed her those thighs needed to be up on his shoulders.
He chuckled, moving forward and pushing her thighs up until they were resting on his shoulders, allowing him to press even closer. “Naughty thing.” He teased her, pressing his hips against hers and letting her feel how hard he was for her. “You’re pretty much begging for it now.”
"Don't make me beg baby. I just want to make you daddy" she purred up at him. She knew damn well how weak that made him. He absolutely loved hearing her call him that, and she knew exactly how to use it to her advantage. His heart was pounding in his chest, his brain already filled with the image of her with a baby in her arms, calling him daddy. 
“Jesus Christ,” he groaned, his grip on her thighs tightening. He leaned back, resting on his knees and keeping her legs up on his shoulders.  “You really want a baby that much, huh?” He asked, taking in how she looked underneath him, just at his mercy. 
"I want your baby, remy" she gazed up at him. 
Hearing her say that shot a wave of intense possessiveness through him. “You want my baby?” He repeated back to her, almost like he was processing the words himself. “You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.” He ran his hands up to her hips, holding her in his tight grip. He pushed the tip of him into her, teasing her a bit but it was hell to not just immediately slam in. He teased them both by just barely pushing the tip inside, driving himself absolutely insane. “God, you feel so good, sweetheart,” he groaned, his eyes locked on her face as he teased her. “You want it all, don’t you?”
"Yes, baby. Please give it to me remy" she whined softly already too desperate to play their usual game of cat and mouse. 
He couldn’t resist listening to her desperate whines and pleading. “Anything you want, baby.” He leaned down, pressing as deep inside of her as he could. “You gotta tell me if this gets uncomfortable,” he told her, wanting to keep her completely comfortable and safe.
"Shut up and fill me up, Mon cher" she hissed back already too impatient to be waiting any longer.  He chuckled at her impatience, but he wasn’t going to torture either of them any longer.
 “Alright, I’ll shut up and give you exactly what you want, sweetheart.” He pulled back slowly, only to snap his hips forward and fill her completely.
 They quickly dissolved into a panting mess as the bed shook with every thrust. He was glad they had moved out of their old apartment cause they would definitely gotten a noise complaint. He was mumbling French curses between English praises, his cajun accent dripping off his tongue like it was honey. The sounds of the bed creaking, the sound of his voice cursing, and the sound of her moans filled his ears. He was absolutely drunk off of her, completely intoxicated by how she felt and how she sounded. The French slipped out before he could even realize it, his usual filter completely off. She was absolutely living for it. She loved when he would talk dirty to her in his accent and that doubled down when he spit out French like it was nothing. 
Every single time he cursed in French, her reaction would drive his excitement higher and higher. “Vous sentez si bien, mon amour,” he panted to her, pressing even deeper inside of her with every thrust. “You’re mine, sweetheart. All mine.”
"Yours" she mewled back as his tip kissed her womb with every thrust. She was clawing at the sheets like a cat in heat crying out like one too. 
He could already feel his thrusts getting a bit sloppy and desperate, his hands gripping her hips so tight he was going to leave bruises. “That’s it baby,” he growled out, losing himself more and more with every minute. “God, you don’t know how good you feel.”
She was mind dumb as what felt like her third maybe fourth orgasm rippled through her. Just like he liked her. Her climax made him shiver, feeling her walls tighten around him and send waves of ecstasy through him. “You look so beautiful when you cum for me, baby,” he groaned out, his hips still bucking against hers. “You’re gonna make me cum too if you’re not careful,” he tried to tease her, but his voice came out as a desperate, strained whisper. 
"Give it to me" she spoke through slurred words filled with pleasure and mewls. "Make me a mama" 
“God, you’re driving me crazy, sweetheart.” His words came out in a breathless hiss, trying his best to hold himself back from falling over that edge. “Beg for it.” He was cocky, he loved to hear her beg for him like that. He wanted to hear how desperate she was.
"Please remy need it! Wanna be swollen with you! Want your baby" she whined out between moans and biting her lip as her eyes rolled up into the back of her skull.
“Damn near gonna be on my knees with hearing you like that,” he groaned, giving into her words. “God, you want me to fill you up?” He knew the answer already, but he couldn’t resist asking. He wanted to hear her say it.
"Yes yes yes,” the mantra fell from her lips like a depraved woman. She practically was. The idea of her handsome husband filling her up till there was no other way she couldn't be pregnant was appealing.
He was far from being able to hold back any longer. Her words were pushing him faster and faster to the edge, driving him more and more wild. “You’re gonna have it, baby,” he panted out. “Gonna make you a mama.”
His hips snapped into hers with a force he didn't even know he was capable of. His grip on her thighs was tight enough he knew there'd be bruises later. He was desperate, completely lost in how she felt, how she sounded, how she looked underneath him with his hands holding her down. The thought of the possessive marks he was leaving on her skin only fueled his need for more. “Christ, sweetheart, I’m gonna-” he started to warn her.
She mewled out as she felt him jerk forward spurts filling her up completely even spilling out onto the sheets below them. 
He gave a guttural moan as his orgasm hit him like a freight train. “Oh God,” he panted as his hips gave little, shallow thrusts with each pulse of pleasure. “Fill you up so good,” he groaned. 
He collapsed against her, letting go of her thighs and wrapping his arms around her. He was panting against her chest, trying his best to catch his breath from how hard he had just come. “You’re going to drive me into early cardio arrest,” he chuckled weakly.
She was coming down from it herself panting as she patted his sweaty shoulder. "Love you too babe”
He chuckled, pressing a kiss between her breasts. “Love you more,” he mumbled against her skin, his brain still a little sluggish as he recovered his brain power.
When he rolled off of her finally and she cuddled up into his side not even bothering to change the sheets yet both of their legs feeling like jelly. He pulled her close against his chest, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin against her forehead. He was completely and utterly satiated at the moment, already feeling the fatigue of exertion setting in and his eyelids growing heavy.
"Think it will take?" She hummed tiredly back at him.
“It better,” he chuckled, already knowing damn well that it would work. He ran his fingers through her hair, still damp with sweat. “If you’re not pregnant after this, you’ll break my heart.”
"We will just keep trying won't we then?" She teased back.
“Damn right we will,” he said, already planning out how soon he could go again without collapsing. “Keep trying until you’re round and swollen with my baby, sweetheart.”
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 8 months
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F***ing FINALLY!!! I've been looking for stuff with a Reader saving Dogday since he's been introduced and I've only got like, three so far-
And I want this Reader to be resourceful, using anything to patch Dogday up(including scraps of Miss Delight's dress)
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I hear your calls <3
...............
"You're wasting precious time, angel. Poppy needs you. I'm only gonna slow you down. Just leave me here, and tell her I'm-"
"You'll get to tell her that yourself, Dogday. Because I'm not going anywhere. I'm gonna help you whether you like it or not."
With a huff, you used the grabpack to wheel in a cart filled with an assortment of items you picked up around the Playcare area: doll parts, plush felt, metal bars, and even Dogday's other missing leg, which you have miraculously found in the playhouse.
You did your best to stitch them back onto his body, although the real challenge was fixing them up first--considering how badly they got mangled by the smaller Smiling Critters. Through sheer luck, you were still able to recognize them as his legs.
And conveniently, you've retained some of your craftsmanship skills from your days working with Playtime Co.
You were given some praise for being able to speedily patch up broken and torn-up toys, but you've never touched upon any of the "Bigger Bodies" despite seeing similar injuries on them. They simply never gave you that clearance, and dealing with blood and organs (and possible death) was something way above your paygrade.
But with Dogday, you were able to apply similar techniques you used in doll repair. You made patches out of Miss Delight's polka-dot dress to cover up any tears, and you created small mechanisms to put inside his legs that would (hopefully) enable him to walk again.
It was like you were performing a surgical operation..
Except, well..that's exactly what was going on.
Despite your unwavering determination--and the fact that you succeeded in reattaching one leg to him so far--he insisted that you were only putting yourself at risk trying to help him.
Hell, you nearly got torn apart by those little Smiling Critters who chased you both down, being scared off by the flares you shot at them. He didn't think you'd have enough..but by the grace of god, you did. And you escaped and found a safe place where Kissy Missy and Poppy were also hiding out.
Not only did you finally get a breather, but also a chance to help one of the few toys left here who somehow didn't lose their humanity.
Even so, Dogday still feared for your safety.
"You know..this will only enrage Catnap, right?" He rasped, choking out a wet cough. "He'll know that I'm missing. And he'll know you have something to do with it.."
"Wait.." Pausing in your work, you glanced up at him with furrowed eyebrows. "Why would he care about where you are? Or better yet..why would he keep you alive at all?"
"...because I was his favorite."
"Huh..?"
"Before the Prototype became his sole focus, we did everything together." He explained somberly. "We helped the others fall asleep, stayed out of trouble. Catnap and I..we were like day and night. Two peas in a pod. He brands me a heretic now, but...somehow, I don't believe he likes doing so. Maybe..he hasn't forgotten our friendship, after all."
'Well, stringing someone up by belts and ripping off half their body doesn't sound like something a good friend would do..' You thought to yourself, although you understood where he was coming from.
Yet it didn't change the fact you still wanted to kill that stupid purple cat. Especially after he gave you that hellish nightmare of Huggy crawling out of a television.
"I know you wanna believe there's still good in him, but..he's long gone." You shook your head. "Those critters..they tried crawling inside your body, and he was just gonna allow it all because you didn't wanna follow the Prototype's will."
"........"
Silence was your only reply, but you decided to shift your focus back on repairing the other leg. Dogday allowed you to work, no longer protesting as he instead looked at the stitches on his arms, feeling grateful yet unworthy at the same time.
Him and the others...they were all monsters. He never killed a single human in his existence (or at least none that he could recall), but he felt like he was just as terrible as those who did.
Eventually, you finished, and his ears perked up at your sigh of relief as you set down your tools and pushed the cart away. "There we go. Try to stand up, but take it slow. Okay?"
He nodded, feeling quite nervous as he looked at his legs, before he slowly pushed himself off the ground. For a few moments, he was able to stand, but he wobbled a little and had to hold onto the nearest wall so he didn't lose balance.
'When was the last time I had my legs? It's been so long...'
Then he felt your grabpack's hands gently steady him, and soon enough he could stand on his own without their support.
You smiled and retracted them. "How do you feel?"
"Much better...thank you, angel." Dogday looked down at you, the corners of his wide smile turning further upwards. "You truly are something divine. You've come to heal us, mend all of our broken pieces, even when we do not deserve such kindness. How could I ever repay you?"
Right as you were about to respond, you heard sounds of plush feet moving and turned around, seeing Kissy and Poppy entering the room.
You didn't really he'd nearly be as tall as Huggy's spouse.
"You fixed him! What can't you do?" The redhaired doll gasped in awe, hopping onto Kissy's hand before she was carefully transferred over to Dogday's paws, stepping into them.
He held her gently, smiling. "Poppy."
"It's so good to see you, my friend." She smiled, although it was quick to disappear. "I thought all of you were gone."
"It's just me now, and...I'm....I-I'm...." He began to sniffle, his voice breaking as the weight of everything that's happened came crashing down. "I'm so sorry...I tried so hard, but...I-I failed! I couldn't protect them!"
Thin streams of tears seeped from the corners of his eyes, darkening the fur along his cheeks. "Kickin'...B-Bobby..they all died because of me! I was supposed to be their leader, but all I did was lead them to their demise! I-I should have joined them in-"
"There, there..it's going to be alright." Poppy softly hushed him, patting his arm in comfort. "You did your best to protect them given the circumstances. I promise we'll have our chance to avenge them. But you must live, for their sake..and for [y/n]'s sake, too. They went through a lot to fix you up."
"I know but..I-I'm so scared. I don't wanna face him alone-"
"You won't be alone, because I'm gonna take care of him."
With another sniffle, Dogday looked down at you, feeling you gently petting his ear as another comforting gesture. Your eyes held nothing but sympathy and heartache for this poor creature. "I'm sorry, but we have to put him down. It's the only way we can move forward."
"Are you sure?" He mumbled. "He's gotten more powerful, and hungry-"
"So were Huggy and Mommy, but I saw how [y/n] dealt with them..and they're more than capable." Poppy remarked. "But now that Catnap's onto them, they'll need all the protection they can get."
"Then..I'll do my best to help." He finally declared, smiling at you.
You blinked, surprised that he was willing to stand up against the one who tortured him. But you simply nodded and smiled back, watching as he returned Poppy to Kissy, before he turned back to you and crouched down.
He enveloped you in a warm hug, the vanilla scent still seeping from his suit and helping you feel more at ease.
"Thank you, Dogday." You chuckled, hugging him back.
"No..thank you, my guardian angel. I will follow you to the ends of the earth."
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tojigasm · 2 months
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Thinking about older!Logan and how he'd definitely clock the crush you have on him as soon as you meet him.
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It's amusing to him, and unfortunately for you, Logan wasn't born yesterday and he absolutely catches your long stares when you think he's not looking or the way you avert your eyes from his whenever speaking to you.
He thinks it's cute and a little stupid on your behalf – a twenty year old something kid crushing on some fifty year old man old enough to be your father.
But it's when the two of your eyes meet from across the room that he knows he's completely fucked because damn if you're not the prettiest thing he's seen in a good fifteen years or so and damn if he doesn't want to treat you the way he knows boys your age aren't
When he finally gets you alone, it escalates faster than either of you could've imagined.
"Shy little thing arent'cha?" He comments from his seat beside you, "Am I really that mean and scary?"
For a moment, you don't realize he's speaking to you until you look up to scan the room before meeting his eyes.
Logan seems to have followed your eyes, scanning each nook and crevice along with you.
"See any ghosts?"
Your eyes narrow slightly in annoyance.
"M'not shy."
Logan hums from his seat, leaning forward to pick up his cigar from the table. Settling back into his chair, he takes a long drag.
"Sure y'rnot." He replies with a smirk, smoke pooling from his lips as he exhales through his words.
You don't break eye contact with him this time, and he's got you right where he wants you.
"M'not." You repeat.
"Oh, I know you're not." Logans voice suddenly shifts to a lighter tone, laced with tease. The switch throws you off for a moment. "Don't think I haven't seen you, do you?"
And there's no need for him to elaborate. You've been caught in your school girl crush that, in reality, you know you won't get in trouble for but it's the fear of disappointing the older man that strikes a chord of anxiety through you.
You don't say anything to that, and the two of you only stare at one another before Logan's placing his cigar back down into the ashtray and motioning for you to come towards him.
You obey without question, partially in response to your training with him and partially wanting to show him how good you can be, how good you are – you have complete trust in him.
Logan seems to sense the slight of your unease, helping to lead you to straddle his lap as you sit down atop him.
His thighs spread out beneath you, helping to keep you balanced.
"That's better, huh?" He asks.
You nod, eyes drifting downwards to where your hands have begun to trace over the detailed lines of his leather suit.
There's quietness to the moment. One that seems as though it could last forever as Logan keeps a gentle hand on your thigh and the other on the arm of the chair, content on letting you distract yourself for the moment.
"Jesus," Logan comments, making you look up to meet his eyes again.
He cups a hand to your jaw, softly turning your head left and right to look you over.
"Can tell you right now," he cuts himself off with a hesitant inhale, the pads of his gloves running along your hips as he slides his hands up and down the shape of your waist to your thigh, "– When I was younger I would've been all over ya'."
Something about the image that draws your mind makes your core ache and your legs weak – imagining a younger version of the older man in the moment, the whitesh grey streaks in his hair bring you back to earth just as fast.
Logan holds your chin with two of his fingers, pad of his gloved thumb stroking your soft skin, and in the same moment, the two of you are kissing.
His lips are soft against your plush ones. His tongue is rough as he takes his time to run the wet muscle up the insides of your cheeks and around your own tongue.
You run your nails through the short of his hair, tangling your fingers in the thick of his tufts.
Logan groans into the kiss, shuffling down the seat to spread his thighs out further beneath you.
His hand comes up to cup your heat, and you gasp into the kiss before grinding your hips into his large palm.
Logan smiles into the kiss.
It only takes him a moment before the pad of his thumb is deftly pressed against your clit through the layers of your suit and you're pulling away from the kiss to moan.
Your brows furrow, and your hands drop from his hair to rest atop his shoulders, letting out soft moans and hums as his finger circles your bud.
"There we go." Logan kisses the curve of your jaw, pulling back to lean against the chair, watching as you relax into his hold.
"That feels good." You manage through a whimper, humming lightly as he shifts his movements to figure eights over your clit.
Logan gives a half chuckle, "I bet it does." His free hand holds you by your hip, keeping you still as you begin to rock into his hand.
"Right there, huh?" He asks, and you nod weakly, rolling your hips into his hand.
"M'close." You breathe.
Logan nods, "Tell Daddy where you want him."
You're quick to obey, dropping your hand from his shoulder to hold his wrist in place, letting out a choked sob when he runs his fingers over your sensitive folds through your suit.
There's not much warning besides a moan that gets caught half way up your throat as you cum.
Logan only continues to run his fingers over your cunt, stroking your folds before your pushing his hand away, swallowing soft gasps for air as you relax against him.
You can feel him kiss the top of your head, his hand stroking up and down the soft of your back while your fingers are tangled with the other.
"Y'okay?" He asks into your hair.
You nod.
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noirscript · 1 month
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My Valentine
details: yandere!husband x AFAB!reader | Mentions of female genitalia, detailed sexual scenes, breeding,
note: I forgot where I got the image.
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Despite the questionable setup and job description of your current job, your husband did not question it and even supported your endeavors. He cook your breakfast on the dot and even prepared your lunch and some snacks.
The warm touch of his soft lips against yours as soon as he sees you, somehow made you guilty of what you're getting yourself into. Truth be told, you haven't told him about the entire truth about your job. Only that you work as an agent.
You let him make an assumption about your job. Perhaps you'll never be able to tell him all about your job.
"Are you sure you still want to work there?" he asked while resting his firm hands on your hips. "I can support us both. We can even start our family and live comfortably."
You smiled as you cup his cheeks. "Val..."
He sighed before pulling away. "I don't really get why you're doing this," he said before meeting your gaze. "It's been two years since we've been married, you even begged me to let you enjoy for awhile before starting our family."
"Val, it's not that! I just..." you sighed. "I want to have my own money. I can't rely on you everytime. It... It doesn't feel right."
You looked up and feared what you've seen. His jaw clenched while his hold on your hips tightened.
"Was it my mother?"
Your brows furrowed. "What, no!"
"My grandma? My sister?" He closed the gap between you two. "Who was it, huh? Who influenced your decisions this time?"
You removed his hands from your body before taking one step away from him.
"Let's... just talk later." You tiptoed to reach his cheek before grabbing your packed lunch.
Maybe it's time to submit your two-week notice.
Your husband, Valentin, could get clingy at times. He'll tightly wrap his arms around your body, never missing the chance to feel the warmth of your skin.
It starts with gentle caresses against your skin, then the next thing you knew, you're being screwed and under his mercy for the next hours.
His honeyed voice that you love to hear turns to something deeper as he whispers the nastiest threats you've ever heard from him.
"Gonna make you a mommy... hngg... gonna be round and full..." He buries his face against the crook of your neck as he sensually grind his thick cock against your tight and creaming pussy.
"Pleasepleaseplease... make me cum... wanna cum..." you begged as you claw the arm that's been keeping you in place. "Val... Val... please... cumming..."
"Ah-ah... such a naughty girl." He took a deep breath against your neck before ramming his cock against your tightening pussy. "You don't get to treat me like a toy. I'm not a fucking dildo. You hear that?"
"M'srry... cumming please... please..."
"You're cumming, hm? You're gonna take my cum? All of it? Hm?"
You frantically nodded as you match his movements. It didn't take long until his cum painted your insides.
He nozzles his face against your skin. Peppering kisses against your neck, nipping it at times.
"We're gonna start our family soon..." he whispered while lazily grinding his dick inside you. "You, me, and our baby."
You chuckled. "We've talked about this before, Val..." The sheets rustled as you turn to face him.
"I still want to work. You know, to save up a bit." You pushed yourself up and looked into his eyes. "I also want to spoil them."
"You can spoil them with my card. What's mine is yours too, you know?" He responded while pulling you close to him. "We can have just one child. We'll take care of them. Raise them well..."
"Val... at least give me some time to think about it." You slowly run your finger against his chest down to his abs before barely touching the tip of his erect cock. "Besides... don't you want us to have some more time together?"
You slowly grind your moist pussy against him before he pulled you down with him. He aligned his cock and swiftly penetrated your pussy.
He doesn't hate the idea of getting you all to himself, but still. Your feelings might change once you learn more about him. He's not gonna have that. You're his for eternity, even if that meant having to share you with your child.
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thinkinonsense · 26 days
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first sleepover with worst!logan *mdni
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the two of you hadn't been together very long before you invited logan to stay over; and to say he was hesitant would be an understatement.
"i'm not sure, princess..." he mumbles, getting up from the couch to leave again.
"c'mon lo..." you purr, stopping him by crawling into his lap. "it's getting late anyways."
this was the latest he had been over; almost three am. you weren't sure why he was so insistent on leaving, during the day he would hang around your apartment for hours but when night falls, he's eager to go. none of it made sense to you but to logan, it was crystal.
to start, he didn't want you to get too attached. logan couldn't have a sweet young girl like yourself get wrapped up in his twisted ways. from the moment first saw you in your silky, tiny nightgown he knew he wouldn't last a whole night alone with you.
"ain't gotta worry about me, sweetheart." he said, tucking a strand of lose hair behind your ear. "i can take care of myself out there."
you look up at him with these sad pouty lips that remind logan of one of the many times he's been shot in his lifetime. he loathed how soft you're making him; smoothing ever sharp edge of him until you've molded him into your perfect mate.
"pretty please, logan." you whine, wrapping both arms around his neck. the begging was only making it worse for him.
"i don't want to have to do this, doll face." he sighed, hands unknowingly traveling to your hips and playing with this silk.
"then stay here with me."
logan didn't think he was this weak. the old him would've just barked in your face and stormed out of the apartment already; but instead he's being dragged into your bedroom. the only part of your apartment that logan has never seen. well, technically he's peeked in once or twice but he's never been inside. everything about the room reminded him of you. soft pastels plastered everywhere and cute little decorations littered about.
what really got him was your bed. baby blue sheets with matching pillows and a decorative heart pillow front and center. if wade saw him sitting in this girly bed, logan would never hear the end of it. but for her? he would lay here until he died.
"whatcha think?" you ask him with a small smile.
"looks just like you; pretty and vibrant." he says, one hand on your jaw to pull you into a quick kiss.
logan stripped himself of his shirt before climbing in next to you. both of you laid on your sides with one of logan's arms wrapped firmly around your abdomen in the quiet bedroom. time passes and logan thinks he's finally got himself under control; falling asleep peacefully for once.
"mmm... lo..." you groan softly from your slumber.
logan wasn't an idiot, he knew what has happening. it wasn't easy but he tried to block you out, ignoring your sweet cries for him which had become manageable until you began squirming against him; your volume increasing little by little.
finally, he had to put an end to this torture. both large hands placed on your waist tightly and almost harshly to stop your movements, ultimately awakening you.
"lo, what are you-"
"can't even behave while sleeping, huh?" his voice was hot against your ear. logan's right hand travels up the nightgown to paw at your chest in a way that made your eyes roll back. his left hand travels south, exposing the thin matching material underneath your nightgown which sends your head flying back against his shoulder. the movement exposes your neck to him, biting and licking as he pleases.
"s-s-sorry for... for w-waking you up-p." you apologize, moving against his lower hand.
"no need to apologize, dollface." logan chuckles darkly at the eagerness and candor in your voice. "this is a much better sleepover than i imagined."
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kykyonthemoon · 6 months
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How to babysit a wounded little Hunter
Injured after a mission, you now indulge yourself in his special tender loving care.
ಇ. Character x Female Reader fanfic,
including Caleb, Rafayel, Xavier and Zayne
ಇ. Tags: fluff, domestic fluff, early stage of established relationship
A little heads up: The writer will not take responsibility for any side effect (such as toothache) that might come after reading the fic.
ಇ. Word count: 4k
ಇ. Requested by Wytchie Pie and x
ಇ. Masterlist ♡ Request a fic ♡
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𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃
You dimly sensed footsteps in the bedroom, and then one side of the bed sank. The acquainted scent and warmth embraced you. A cool hand rested on your forehead. In an instant, the heat in your body subsided.
So as soon as that hand was gone, you seized it.
"Don't go…"
You mumbled in a daze. There was a quiet laugh close to your ear, and then that palm brushed against your forehead again.
"If you don't let go, how can I take your temperature then, pipsqueak?"
You recognized that voice. It was Caleb's. So you acted even more aggressively. You yanked his hand tighter, so much so that his entire body appeared to collapse into the bed, just a little above yours.
"Huh? Aren't you a little too strong for someone who is sick?" Caleb laughed again. The sort of laughter that made you feel considerably better.
"I'm not sick." You were persistent, still. "Just feeling a little sleepy."
Caleb's hand tried to pull away from you. But perhaps he kept it that way on purpose, since given your current state, he would have no problem withdrawing if he truly wanted you to let go.
Caleb's hand patted you a little tenderly. He managed to grab the thermometer with his free hand. He took your temperature, then exclaimed: 
"Almost forty Celsius!"
You exhaled heavily, almost a moan. Every part of you felt irritated and heated. Despite this, you dismissed it, saying:
"I'm not... sick..."
Caleb used the chance to release his wrist from you. You opened your eyes slightly and gave him a disappointed expression.
"You have such a high fever, yet still saying you're not sick?" Caleb mumbled, but you caught every word. He handed you medicine, but you did not take it.
"Too bitter." You said.
"Quit whining. "Just take it and go to sleep."
"If I take it… you'll have to stay here with me, okay?"
Caleb sighed. "Only until you sleep, pipsqueak."
You smiled faintly and fast to accept the pills from Caleb's hand. You clutched his hand securely as you drifted off to sleep, dreaming of the Wanderers, the escapes, and the secrets in which you were a part of. Then, when you woke up again, you noticed Caleb seated beside the bed.
“You're awake now, pipsqueak?” He smiled at you. He was rather relieved. He put a hand on your forehead again. “Yup. No more fever."
Caleb's presence seemed to chase the nightmares away. You removed his hand from your forehead and held it tightly.
“How long have I been sleeping?”
"Let's see…" Caleb brushed his chin. "When you arrived home last night, you went to bed right away. You got a high temperature around early morning. From the time you took the medicine and fell asleep until now, I've finished a whole movie, cooked a delicious pot of porridge, and measured your temperature three times."
"What nonsense are you talking about?"
Caleb laughed. He squeezed your hand once. "You've just been asleep for a few hours. But it is past noon now. Are you hungry?"
You shook your head.
"Are you sure?" Caleb asked again. "I made a super delicious pork rib porridge for you though."
You opened your eyes wide and looked at him. Pork rib porridge was a dish he would often cook when you were sick and no longer in a mood to eat anything. That dish always helped you feel better, even just hearing about it was enough to make you crave food again.
"Pork rib porridge…"
You could only whisper that much when Caleb pressed the tip of your nose and said:
“I knew right away that you couldn't resist food.”
A minute later, the room was filled with the aroma of a still-hot bowl of porridge. Caleb put it on a little tray over the bed. You lay back against the cushion, staring at the meal in front of you as if it were a rare delicacy, despite the fact that the ingredients were absolutely basic.
You looked over at Caleb. He was observing you. "What's wrong? Still no appetite?"
“It's too hot…” You pouted. “Besides,… both my arms and body are aching…”
It took a quite difficult mission in extreme weather, and a high fever to receive special care at your bedside. How could you not enjoy it?
Caleb read you right away. He said: “What? The Hunter in Linkon wants me to feed her? Weren't you delirious this morning, saying you had to go fight off Wanderers?”
“When did I say that? But it's okay if you don't help me. I don't want to eat anymore.”
“Are you still a three-year-old then?”
Even though he grumbled, Caleb still smiled very gently. He scooped a spoonful of porridge, blew on it to cool down, then held it out to you.
You opened your mouth really wide, making him chuckle. When he saw that you were eating well, Caleb felt relieved. He teased:
"I thought you're a grown-up now and wouldn't need me to take care of you anymore."
You replied, still with a mouthful of pork rib porridge: "When you lose your cooking skills, I won't really need you anymore then."
Caleb laughed aloud. He patted your head and said: "I didn’t expect my vacation to turn into a part-time job for babysitting. If I catch a fever from you, you must take care of me in return.”
You rose up in a sudden and pressed your still-hot face into the crook of Caleb's neck, nearly dropping the porridge spoon.
“Then I’ll cook pork rib porridge for you. Just heads-up though, even if it tastes yucky, you must eat it all!”
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𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍
The door to the hospital room opened. Rafayel's curly purple hair appeared. And immediately, your phone lit up with a text message from Thomas:
[The little devil is coming for you. Sorry, I did my best.]
You exhaled. Clearly, he had not done his best. That was why Rafayel was here, staring at you with such a deep gaze from the entrance.
"Er… "Hello, Rafayel..." You waved your arm, attempting to greet him with a warm smile.
"Rafayel?" He frowned. "Do you still remember that we know each other?"
"Huh? Why did you...?" You left your sentence incomplete as Rafayel surged inside. He placed his hands on his hips, his expression filled with slanderous words as he accused you.
"Who are you? Do I know you? It's been eight hundred years. Jellyfishes are walkin' naked. Sea turtles climb trees. Sharks are eatin' grass for free! And finally, you remembered me?"
You frowned. Why was there something that rang so familiar with this scenario? Yet it was still off.
“Rafayel, I—”
“When are you going to tell me you're hurt?”
Rafayel pointed a finger directly to your shoulder, where the white bandage was visible through the hospital gown. That was the real reason he was precisely distressed.
“Even Thomas knew you were injured. Yet you didn't say a word to me?! You left me waiting alone for three hours at the exhibition. I can't believe you stood me up!”
You lifted your hand, intending to remind Rafayel to keep his voice down because you were both in the hospital. But he gave you no opportunity to speak.
"Do you realize how scared I was? When Thomas told me you couldn't come, I thought about all the things that could happen to you!”
"Rafayel…" You finally found a chance to interrupt him.  “Let's calm down first. I didn't mean to hide it from you, it's just... I haven't told you yet..."
Rafayel crossed his arms. He was still irritated.
“I can't believe it! You deliberately manipulated me with your innocence so that I would let you get away this time!”
You felt dizzy in the head, and your ears were ringing with Rafayel's nagging words and accusations. The injured one was you. Why did you feel as if you had just committed a great sin?
"ARGHHH!" You shouted and clutched your bandaged shoulder. "It hurts!"
Rafayel quickly forgot the rage in his heart. He moved right away to the bed and gently raised your arm. His eyes were full of concern and anxiety.
“Are you hurt? I'll call the doctor here right away!”
You grasped Rafayel's hand, urging him to stay with you.
“See? I'm still very strong. Just a little hurt."
"How much is a little?" Rafayel frowned. You could feel his hot glare on your shoulder, soaking into the bandage and searing your wound.
"… This much." You clasped your thumb and index finger to form a circle, then held it up for Rafayel to see. He grabbed your hand and placed it on his chest.
"I don't believe you anymore." He continued to speak with a condescending tone. "I have to check it out with my own eyes."
"Huh? What do you mean?…” You suddenly blushed. Rafayel looked at you with serious eyes, yet very sincere. He replied:
“Your wound. I want to see it."
The mere notion of Rafayel wanting to look behind your garments made your cheeks flame. You withdrew your hand and refused:
“I told you I'm fine… Don't make such a scene…”
“If I don't see it, how can I be sure you're not lying to me? This isn't the first time you've hidden your injuries..."
That was all Rafayel said. You gazed at him for a second. Aside from being concerned about you, he was also saddened since you had repeatedly hidden your wounds from him. A great deal when you did not want to bother him, he always found out and became much more frustrated.
"Alright then…"
Eventually, you had to give in. You turned your back to Rafayel and carefully slipped the shirt collar down your shoulder, displaying the neatly wrapped bandages around your torso.
You could see your reflection in the front window. Your face turned crimson. And Rafayel stood next to the bed, attentively investigating you, his fingers softly caressing the gauze, causing you to bow slightly in pain as well as anxiousness.
“Yet you said it was just a little wound.” Rafayel muttered. It was his hand that drew your collar back up. And the next thing you knew, you were upgraded to the best room at the hospital.
You weren't used to how wealthy people spent their money. You looked at Rafayel, who had constantly been by your side during your hospital stay. He requested you to remain in the most advanced hospital room, with the greatest level of care. More than that, he refused to leave your side even when you asked to be alone.
"You don't have to do this, Rafayel." You spoke as he was peeling the fruit for you.
"Open your mouth." He handed you a slice of mango. Even if your lips stated it wasn't required, you nevertheless welcomed all of his attention.
"I'm serious…" As soon as you finished swallowing the mango, he gave you another slice. "Really, um... This mango is truly delicious..."
"Do you crave anything else?" Rafayel purposely ignored every time you told him he didn't need to stay there all day and night to care for you. Your wound had improved significantly.
“I think I can be discharged from hospital and get back to work now…” You said. “I don't want to bother you anymore…”
"What's that?" Rafayel pretended not to hear you. “I think I heard the sound of abalone porridge just being delivered to the hospital. Let me go grab it.”
You sighed. Another expensive meal he had prepared for you. But you knew how much you would miss these things when you left the hospital at last and could no longer benefit from his tender loving care.
“Maybe I'll stay here one more day... You're spoiling me too much...” You muttered beneath your breath, but Rafayel overheard everything. He pinched your cheek and responded:
“You're staying because of the delicious food, not because of my devoted service? This is so heartbreaking! Then, after you've recovered, I'll make you repay everything. You have to work overtime as my bodyguard too!"
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𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓
You crept along the hospital's vacant rear door. You were just hospitalized in the afternoon due to an injury suffered while on job. Even though the doctor advised you to stay for additional examination, you believed the damage was minor. On top of that, the mission was not yet over. You needed to get back to headquarters.
Unfortunately, your escape did not go well. You ran into a familiar shoulder before you could complete the corridor.
"X-Xavier?" You became pale, but not because of the pain. It was only that you were astonished and a little ashamed when caught red-handed.
His look was incredibly complicated, ranging from apprehensive to serious and somewhat furious.
"Where are you going?" he inquired.
You didn't dare to reveal the truth, so you invented an excuse: "Ah... well... The hospital room is quite boring, so I decided to go for a stroll."
"From the back door?"
"Er… I heard the nurse say this is a quicker shortcut to the garden..."
Xavier gazed at you for some time. You clutched your hand tight, terrified that he would not believe that ridiculous excuse. Yet, Xavier nodded at you: "Then let's go together."
Before you could respond, Xavier grabbed your hand and led you outside. It was night time, the wind blew, sending you a slight chill. Xavier took off his coat and draped it over your shoulders. That incredibly gentle gesture made you feel more guilty than ever for lying to him.
“Lead the way.” He told you shortly. For some reason, you had the impression that he was in extreme anger over you.
During the stroll, you didn't dare to speak, and Xavier did the same. He strolled close to you, as if keeping watch rather than walking together. You wandered about for a long time, but there was no trace of the hospital's garden anywhere. Xavier continued to follow your every step in such silence. Him being like that evoked even more guilt in your heart.
At last, you couldn't take it any longer and had to confess: "Xavier... Actually... The truth is, I don't know where the garden is..."
At that point, he spoke up and asked: "So why did you leave your hospital room?"
You didn't dare look into his eyes, so you just stammered an explanation: "Ah... My injury is nothing to be concerned about... That's why I... planned to return to headquarters..."
You noticed Xavier's hands clenching into fists. Fearing he'd be upset, you added: "The doctor also said my injury wasn't too serious— Ah!"
Xavier abruptly pulled your wrist, causing the wound on your arm to hurt. He read through your face which was miserable but still faking a smile. His voice turned sharp:
“If I hadn't caught you, would you really have sneaked away from the hospital?”
Your body convulsed in pain, but you were more concerned about Xavier's rage. You said, "I'm sorry... I was wrong... I'll return to the hospital room right now..."
"Good." Xavier responded curtly. Then he quickly leaned down and held you up in the attitude of a princess being carried.
"W-What are you doing, Xavier?"
"Let's take you back to the hospital room." His expression remained frigid, making you both terrified and embarrassed to be carried by him in such a manner.
Xavier did not return to the same path you had taken. Instead, he took you into the front entrance, where many people, including patients and hospital staff, could see you.
"Xavier? You... put me down! "They are looking at us!"
"I want them to see, so they know you intend to escape the hospital and will monitor you more closely."
Your cheeks became scarlet with humiliation. You swore you saw a kid pointing at you and chuckling, "Mom! I want to be carried like that princess, too!"
And you swore you saw Xavier smirking at that.
After an embarrassing journey, you finally arrived at your room. Xavier set you down on the bed. He chose to remain silent with you as punishment for your unsuccessful escape. You saw him sitting in the corner of the room, peeling a red apple for you.
“Xavier?”
You called out, but he didn't look at you and just replied curtly:
“Rest.”
“Are you angry with me?…”
Xavier's silence revealed the answer. You groaned and pulled the warm cover up high, as if to conceal yourself away from Xavier's rage, but he remained as quiet as a cloudless sky.
When he finished with the apple, he brought it over and gave you a slice. "Eat."
You did not enjoy this cold and distant demeanor of Xavier. If he was upset with you, he should have expressed it directly. You knew it was your fault, and he was so concerned about you that he got mad when you lied to him like that.
"Xavier, I'm sorry…" Your hands seized Xavier's wrist, which was clutching the apple slice. Your eyes widened as much as possible, even giving the impression that you were going to cry.
In the end, the ploy worked. His gaze had softened completely. He placed the plate of apples on the bed and used his other hand to elevate your chin a little. He said: "If you know your fault, then obediently eat all of these and rest."
His hand softly separated your lips, and his other hand inserted a slice of apple for you to eat. You were back in the sunshine, coaxing him to sit on the bed next to you.
"I'll give you three days to recover." Xavier spoke, his voice still agitated, but you could feel his boundless care and love.
"Then I shall bother you to watch over me for a few more days!"
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𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆
You had just returned to your private cabin at the icy mountain base when you heard a tap at the door. You answered the door, wondering who was seeking for you at this hour, and there was Doctor Zayne, holding a first-aid kit while standing outside.
“Zayne?” Your eyes caught the blood on his face and neck. Snow adhered to his dark hair. You took a step back and allowed him inside. "Why are you here?"
Your team had accepted the mission of rescuing people caught in an avalanche created by a group of Wanderers on the mountain. You had learnt that a team of physicians from Akso Hospital was also on their way. But you did not expect to see Zayne here.
Zayne set the first aid pack on the table and then turned to you. He went on to say: "I'm here to do my duty as a doctor."
You widened your eyes and inquired him again, "Your duty as a doctor?"
Zayne pointed to your abdomen, which was soaked from your own blood oozing through the gauze you had recklessly covered earlier.
"Oh dear…" You cried out. You were so engaged in battles that you didn't have time to look at your wound. Your head began spinning as a result of excessive blood loss.
Zayne's powerful arms directed and assisted you to the table. He put you to the wooden table and took a chair to sit in front of you.
"Doctor Zayne, what are you going to do?"
You noted this when you found his hand on the hem of your shirt. He seemed to want to lift it up.
"Treating you."
You knew that. But you were still extremely nervous when thinking that he was about to lift up your shirt. So your hand was still securely grasping his, preventing him from moving any further.
“I've already bandaged it. A nurse also helped me stitch up the wound earlier..."
During the turmoil, you recalled being stabbed in the abdomen. A nurse assisted you in stitching it up, but because there were so many others with more serious injuries, you let her tend to them while you put bandages over yourself and returned to the battlefield. Perhaps your clumsiness caused the wound to bleed a great deal more.
Zayne used his other hand to remove yours before pulling your shirt up. The gauze surrounding your abdomen was drenched in blood. He slowly withdrew it as you writhed in pain and embarrassment.
"Try to sit still for a bit, will you?"
Zayne's soothing voice burst out, calming you down a lot. You sat on the table, your hands lifting your body up while you looked down at the doctor who was treating your wound. The fact that you had to display your skin beneath his gaze made you uneasy and desire to cover your face. But Zayne was quite professional. He remained silent and entirely concentrated on his work. He cleansed the wound and applied a new layer of gauze. His warm breath occasionally wafted against your skin, causing you to tremble slightly. Even when his frigid fingers touched you, it seemed like you were being scorched.
"It's done."
Zayne said after fixing the new layer of gauze. You were a little discontent when his fingers left you. You were ready to pull your top back down when Zayne lightly rubbed his fingers against your abdomen.
“Ouch!” Even though the place he touched was not wounded, you were still startled and embarrassed.
“Just checking it again.” Zayne elaborated. He had you sitting on the table, your bandaged abdomen at his eye level. You could feel his stare through the gauze, pausing a bit too long in areas that were not covered by anything.
“Doctor Zayne… Are you done now?”
You attempted to keep your speech cool, but your crimson cheeks could have given you away. Zayne appeared to flash a little smile. You felt the icy sensation of his fingertip on your skin again as he slid it beneath the hem of your shirt, then pulled it back down.
"I am now." He answered while returning the supplies to the first aid kit. "Don't be so reckless next time. You have to care for yourself first before you can save others.”
"Hold on." You stopped him. You altered your position and stared into his eyes. "You always say so, but can you actually do what you say?"
Zayne tilted his head to look at you. You took advantage of the moment and raised his chin to have a better look. He had a minor cut on his forehead, and the blood on his body was most likely someone else's.
"You rushed here to take care of me, while you, yourself, are in this condition."
You spoke. His hand found your wrist.
"I barely got a few scrapes. Not as concerning as someone who rushed into the battlefield with a bleeding stomach."
"Whether the wound is big or small, it can be critical." You stated precisely what Dr. Zayne told you whenever he saw you injured, even if it was only a little cut.
Realizing that he had just tasted his own medicine, Zayne let out a small laugh. Then he tugged your hand, causing you to almost lean towards him. He gazed into your eyes for quite a while.
"So, my doctor, will you treat me?"
You blushed again. Zayne relinquished his hand, allowing you to properly wipe the blood off his face. You had to confess that you were a little awkward, owing to your unexpected closeness to Zayne in such a private and calm setting. He probably could hear your heart racing. He supported your hand which was holding a sterilized cotton pad and said:
"If you want to become a skilled doctor, in situations like this you must be even calmer."
"I'm not as professional as Dr. Zayne." You answered with a little caustic tone. "You were able to treat my wound so calmly just now."
Zayne gazed at you for an instant. His face remained calm, but his eyes were not.
"I'm a skilled doctor. Yet, it doesn’t imply that I wouldn't feel anything while treating the girl I like in such a... condition."
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