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gracieheartspedro · 3 months

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Your Needs, My Needs

THE PRELUDE

a masterlist of how you can help gaza

pairing: cowboy!joel x f!reader (no outbreak)

description: you have made it to your new home in taylor, texas. your anxiety of owning your our home and being alone is coming to a head, but you need to be productive. a trip to the local furniture turns into you meeting some locals and your new cowboy neighbor.

word count: 3.7k words

warnings: there is no smut in this part. still MINORS DNI! no use of y/n! vague talk of reader's old life before texas, no real description of the reader, description of small age gap, joel being a sarcastic shithead. sarah is canon, so joel is a dad. distracted driving. talks of consuming food. reader has mental illness, mainly described as anxiety, but could be other illnesses. I make it pretty vague. the reader likes football? lmfao

author's note: this is the prelude to the many parts I have planned for these two. this is sort of just setting up everything. I want a slow burn for these two, so hopefully these first couple parts make you guys sweat with anticipation. I also wanna quickly thank all of you for the love on the preview of this fic. I hope you all enjoy it! let me know what y'all think. YEEHAW!

“Sign here and she’s all yours.”

When you brought the pen to the dotted line, you knew that this was going to be the start of your new life.

While you were nervous about taking on such a huge project, you were ready to find solace in your alone time and work on yourself along with the beautiful farmhouse. You needed some peace and quiet, anyway.

She was set on 20 acres of land on the outskirts of a small town called Taylor. The land looked like something out of a movie, it’s rolling hills and sprawling fields.

The house was about 130 years old and needed a lot of TLC. You found it online after hours of scrolling. It was still liveable, but the older couple who owned it before moved to a retirement community and could not keep up with the maintenance. When the inheritance hit your bank account, you called the local realtor and told them you would be flying out there to check it out. When the car pulled up the long driveway, you knew that it would be yours.

Texas was a new start for you. And boy, were you ready for it.

You did not have a lot to move in, just a small UHaul full of boxes of clothes and miscellaneous trinkets. You left your furniture in your shared apartment in New York. You needed to find something that was more your style, anyway.

You moved everything yourself. You were not sure you were ready to trust anyone to help you move in. You knew no one locally, anyway.

It took about three days to get settled, and by that, you simply put up a shower curtain and finally put sheets on your mattress on the floor. You had also created a laundry list of random things you wanted to get done around the house in the next month. Priority number one was getting the bathrooms working. The toilet downstairs doesn’t stop running and your upstairs one won’t flush at all.

You decided that today was the day you would go out and buy some furniture for your living room and bedroom. You would also inquire to some locals about a plumber. It would take you days to work up the courage to reach out to someone in the phone book, so here’s to hoping you just run into someone on the street.

You hop into the sedan that you were renting until you could buy a car. It was nice but it was no match for your long dirt driveway. You already expected to pay extra for all the dings on the exterior.

The roads that lead into Main Street are long and winding. You loved driving, so when it was nice enough to put the windows down, you did so.

Since there’s no one on this specific stretch, you decide to switch the CD you had shoved into the disc drive, opting for another mix you had made years ago. The radio never played what you wanted, especially the local stations in Taylor.

In your distracted scramble for the CD, you don’t take note of the large stallion running next to your car. The CD is wedged between the seat and the main console and your fingers cannot reach the awkward position.

You’re not speeding. But when a giant horse runs out in front of you, you can not hit the break quickly enough. You stop breathing, bracing for impact. You jerk the wheel slightly, swerving away from the steed. Before your front end can make an impact, the horse is snatched back towards the divot in the road.

You are in complete and utter shock over how abruptly it all happened.

Your eye eventually catches a man on horseback, his cowboy hat shields most of his face, but you are more focused on how built this man looks. His biceps were straining against his button-up shirt as he held the lasso taut against his chest. His legs were locked around the brown stallion he was on, his jeans riddled with mud and dust. He had dark curls that peaked out from under his hat.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” You yell, your car slowly inching forward from its spot in the middle of the road, “Where did that thing even come from?”

The mysterious cowboy just shakes his head and trots away, clicking his tongue to guide the horse back into the field.

Your heart felt like it may leap out of your chest. A car was chugging down the road ahead of you, so you knew you had to move out of the way. You turn into your lane and slowly start down the road again.

You do not even bother trying to find the CD, again. You would rather sit in complete silence.

When you make it to the small stretch of downtown, your heart rate slows down. You spot a local furniture store that looks a bit dated. It was your best bet plus, you wanted to stand on solid ground and gain your bearings.

You parallel park rather terribly and hop out of your car. You huff loudly, throwing your purse over your shoulder and slamming the door behind you.

A hot cowboy saved your life.

It’s the most Texas thing that’s happened to you since you moved here.

You head inside the storefront. A smaller white-haired lady sits at the front desk, her head in a gossip magazine.

“Well, hello there,” You muster in your best cheery voice, trying to act like you did not almost die, “I’m lookin’ for some furniture.”

She chuckles as she places her reading next to the register, “Well, you came to the right place, sweetheart.”

You return the laugh, glancing around the large store. Couches and recliners in rows in the front, wooden bed sets lining the back wall. You were so indecisive, you were not completely sure where to start.

“I need a bedroom set and a couch or two. I just moved into th-”

“The old Caldwell farmhouse,” She cuts you off, hopping off her stool, “Saw you movin’ in a couple days ago. My boy is your neighbor.”

The joke about small towns is always true, you know that already. Everyone knows everyone else’s business. You could not shit without someone knowing about it.

You raise your eyebrows, acting like you’re shocked she knows about you already. “Yes, that’s right. Your boy?”

“My oldest son, Joel. He lives across the way from ya,” She starts gesturing towards the couches, “Pop a squat on one and see which one ya like.”

You end up sitting on every couch before landing on a brown leather one with a matching loveseat. The old woman is a great saleswoman on top of being sickly sweet. She told you since you are one of her first customers of the month, she would give you a great discount on a coffee table. You were a sucker for a good deal.

You knew what bed set you wanted immediately. It was a light-washed wood with tall pillars sticking out of every corner. It came with two matching dressers and one nightstand. It was only you, so you didn’t quite care about another side table anyway.

When the lady starts tallying up your total, you watch the slow-moving downtown. A couple walking across the street into the small diner. An older gentleman walking his small dog. The rickety old trucks that loudly took up the roads.

You’re so stuck in your head, you don’t even hear what your total is. All you do is hand over your credit card. She smiles and giggles as she swipes the card.

“So I’ll have my boy deliver it to you tomorrow. He is busy workin’ today, but I’ll have him get it to you. He’s quite the handyman, always busy doing jobs around town. Will you be home in the morning?”

You would have to have some strange man in your home to set up the heavy wooden furniture. It made the hairs on your arm stand up. You knew you would not be able to haul it all, so you had to take the leap of faith and hope and pray this frail old lady’s son is not a serial killer. Or stalker. Or both.

You needed your furniture, after all.

It will be okay, you tell yourself.

“U-uh, I will,” You swallow, “I don’t work right now, so I’ll be home all day.”

“Oh, goody! I will send him your way in the morning. He may have his brother with him just to get the bed up your stairs, but I promise they are good boys. If they aren’t, you come to me and their mama will deal with them.”

You laugh nervously, “Of course, thank you so much.”

–

You had woken up late, your anxiety creeping up on you last night. Your brain would not stop racing. You didn’t fall asleep until 2 am. You hop out of bed around 10:30 and wrap yourself in a cardigan. You have been leaving all the windows open at night, but you can tell the seasons are shifting because it gets so cold at night.

The doorbell rings and it’s like your heart falls out of your chest. You know that after you open this door, you’re welcoming in someone completely new and unexpected and it makes your whole body jitter. You make your way to the front door and take a deep breath before opening it.

Of course. It’s him. The hot cowboy.

It made sense. The endless green across from your home had to be part of his property. The road you almost died on yesterday was right beside his land. His house was tucked right across from the end of your driveway, with countless barns spread across a couple of acres.

You were secretly hoping he would be some silly-looking hillbilly, but instead, you find out your delivery man is the ridiculously attractive cowboy from the day before. His hair is tidy and dark without the cowboy hat on. It’s peppered with some white hairs, but it only adds to his appearance. His flannel has the top three buttons undone and his jeans are stained with age. You are finally able to get a good look at his face with no shadows covering his permanent scowl.

He had to be about 10 years older than you. You were not too far off from wrinkles, but you were still young enough to bear children without being considered geriatric.

He squints at you when you swing the door open. The sun is hitting his eyes, highlighting the warm rich brown color.

“Howdy neighbor,” He greets, a small smirk plays on his lips, “’m Joel. Nice to meet you officially.”

You introduce yourself, trying not to stutter as you say your name. He made you nervous. You chalk it up to just being nervous around men in general. But it’s the way his eyes trailed you as you moved just slightly.

You feel the need to clear the air because of the way he’s staring through you.

“And uh, listen, about yesterday,” You try to apologize, but he cuts you off by raising his hand.

“Wouldn’t be the first time an outsider got themselves hurt bein’ reckless down the backroads. Just glad you didn’t hit my horse.”

The response has a bit of a bite to it. You back up a step, your body also taken aback by his directness. You are used to confrontational people, but you’re not used to Southern folk being that way.

“No, next time I’ll aim for the ditch and tell my insurance that there was a silly cowboy in the road that I had to miss.”

You can tell by the sheepish smile on his face that he was not expecting you to be feisty.

“Don’t think they’d give ya’ much money for that,” He says in a hushed but matter-of-fact tone.

You relax your shoulders, trying to collect yourself. “Probably not.”

He turns back to his truck that has your bed frame in the back of it, disregarding the previous statements. “My brother is comin’ by in a few to help me get this stuff in.”

“Well, let’s not let all the air out of the house right now,” You extend the door wider for him. You are giving this man full access to your home now. You try to suppress your obsessive thoughts and instead decide that you know exactly what you can have him do while you wait. You remember his mom told you he was good with his hands, and since he wants to be snarky to you in the comfort of your own home, you would try to pick his mind about some of your home projects. “Come in, let me ask you something.”

You begin, gesturing him into the entryway. He accepts the offer, kicking his boots off on the porch. You appreciate his thoughtfulness and for a second, you realize you may be the asshole.

“Mama told you I was a handyman, didn’t she?”

You giggle, finding it funny that he could read the situation you were about to put him in. “She sure did.”

“She needs to stop tellin’ folks that,” His accent is so thick and syrupy, that it makes your insides tingle, “Got too many people askin’ me to fix their stuff.”

You guide him to the bathroom right off the living room and kitchen, “You know much about plumbing?”

“I’m assumin’ you don’t,” He mutters, “What do you have goin’ on?”

You point to the loudly running toilet, “This thing won’t stop running no matter what I do.”

“Well, what have you tried doin’?”

You both stand in the hallway, you looking up at him with furrowed brows, him looking down at you with anticipation. He was quick-witted, and you started to hate how much you liked it. He gave your sassiness a run for it’s money.

“I’ve flushed it a bunch of times. Cursed at it and kicked it,” He stares at you blankly. It makes your stomach roll, “Jesus, Cowboy, can you give a girl a break?”

He enters the narrow bathroom, approaching the toilet like there may be a bomb in it. He reaches towards the handle and jiggles it violently, which makes you giggle a bit. That’s exactly what you did.

“So, why here?” He questions, squatting in front of the bowl. He continues to mess with the handle while you process his no-context question.

“What Texas or this bathroom?”

He chuckles, his smile spreading across his beautifully tanned skin.

“You got tons of jokes, huh?”

You don’t respond, just shrug your shoulders. He stands up, wiggling the top of the tank off the toilet. You watch his hands lock onto the sides of it, ensuring it will not drop off and shatter on the dated tile.

“Texas,” He strains, freeing his left hand to mess with the handle. You lean against the door frame.

You are not even sure why Texas. You just needed to get as far as you could away from New York. You did not want your past to catch up with you, and you did not want to get stuck in a city again. But you could not share all this with a random stranger. He may be in your house, looking at your commode, but you can’t completely trust him yet.

“I just wanted a change of scenery. I always wanted a farmhouse.”

“Lots of upkeep,” He jabs, doing one more once over of the tank, “‘M thinking you may need a new float or chain. I can get my tools tomorrow and come over to fix it. May need to order a new part, though.”

You push off the wall, arms still crossed over your front. He puts the top back on and finally makes eye contact with you.

He would come over again? To fix your toilet?

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, ‘m sure it’s the chain or float.”

“No, I m-mean,” You start to stumble over your words. You swallow, collecting yourself for a moment so you do not look crazy to him. “Are you sure you’re okay coming back over?”

He gives you a thin-lipped smile, “What are neighbors for?”

His brother arrives in a rickety old truck at about 15 past 11. He looks a lot like him, but shorter. He has those same eyes though, permanently tired.

“Nice to meet ya, ma’am. ‘M Tommy.”

You grab his hand to shake it and he lingers a bit longer than you anticipated. Joel stayed on your front porch, putting his boots back on to start unloading the furniture.

You are thankful the weather was kind today, especially since every evening this week has been stormy. The sun was beating mighty hard on the men as they collaborated on getting your furniture inside.

While they get everything set up, you busy yourself making lunch. You get the bright idea to make them each a sandwich. It’s the least you could do.

You pile the cold-cut turkey and cheese onto the white bread you had, topping it with some mayo. When you hear their footsteps trailing down the stairs, you race out with the sandwiches on a porcelain plate.

“For your troubles,” You say before standing in their path to the door. Tommy smiles brightly, instantly snatching a sandwich from the plate.

“Thanks, darlin’,” He takes a big bite, humming in satisfaction. He walks around you, leaving you standing in front of Joel. His eyes are piercing, his lips ajar a bit, but nothing is coming out.

“Turkey and cheese, I promise.”

He reaches out grabbing the sandwich from you, “No sweet tea to go with it?”

Your heart sinks, instantly becoming self-conscious of your decision to be nice to these hicks. He was so intimidating with his steely expressions and broad shoulders. There was an essence about him that did not speak to his stone-cold exterior. It was more gentle. But you could only see hints of it when he smiled.

He can tell the wheels in your head are spinning. Before you can speak, takes a bite of the sandwich and shakes his head.

“‘m kidding, Yankee. Thank you, I ‘preciate it.”

You settle for letting out a long sigh and returning to your kitchen. You spend a couple of minutes, putting back all the ingredients in their proper places.

You hear Tommy yell for Joel, his voice kind of panicked. You race out the front door and see Tommy balancing your coffee table off the side of the truck. Joel is running to his aid, the dust from your driveway kicking up behind him. You hold your breath watching Joel help him balance the wooden piece of furniture.

“Can’t have you breakin’ your back before homecoming,” Joel fusses, guiding the legs of the table to the ground, “You know damn well Maria would have me, too.”

“Yeah, what’s a homecoming game without the head coach?”

You perk up, instantly becoming interested in the conversation that you weren’t supposed to be listening in on. The two men lift the table and start heading your way, right on the threshold.

“You coach football?” You ask Tommy, trying not to show your excitement. You loved football, it reminded you of Sundays with your grandfather. You never got the privilege to go to an actual game, even in high school.

“Yes, ma’am, for the local high school in Taylor. We are gonna make it to the state championships this year.”

You glance at Joel when he says it. He rolls his eyes, “Gotta win at least one game to do that, Tommy.”

They place the coffee table right in front of your new leather couch. Tommy grunts, trying not to argue with his brother in front of a strange lady.

He can’t help himself, though. He instantly snaps back at Joel.

“You know them boys have been practicin’ day in and day out. Why ya gotta be so negative?”

Joel places his hands on his hips, “Cause Sarah told me the guys in her grade are a bunch of dummies. I highly doubt they are ready to kick Georgetown’s asses.”

Tommy starts towards the door, “Just cause Sarah says it, doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“I believe my honor student daughter before I believe my dumbass little brother.”

You are not shocked Joel has a daughter. You are just shocked that she’s in high school. He looked too young to have a teen, but then again, he did have some grays sprouting. You cross your arms over your chest, watching Joel scoot the table across your hardwoods.

You’re staring at his hands, trying to conjure up a wedding ring on his left finger. But there’s nothing. Maybe he did not wear it when he was working. Maybe he just forgot to put it on this morning. Maybe his passive aggressiveness towards you was simply to ensure there was distance between you and him, giving you subtle hints that he was taken.

He finally glances up at you, stopping in his tracks when he notes your gaze.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

You have no clue what to say because you are so trapped in your head about him. He’s a stranger, god damn it.

“N-no, everything is okay.”

“Don’t look it.”

“I just was not expecting the coffee table to look so dark against the hardwood,” you lie, pulling whatever you could think of out of your hat, “Doesn’t it look dark?”

Joel looks between the floor and the table, shifting in his stance, “Don’t know bout that.”

“O-oh okay.”

“Alright, well we got ya all set up now,” He starts to head towards the entryway. You trail behind him like a lost puppy, “I’ll be by sometime tomorrow with that part for the toilet. I’m expectin’ another sandwich for that one.”

You grab your front door as you wave to Tommy as he heads for his truck. He smiles and gives you a head nod. Joel turns back to you, his ears perked up for a sarcastic jab from you.

You think back to something he said to you earlier. You crack a smile, “What are neighbors for?”

PART 1 COMING SOON!

taglist (ppl who asked to be tagged): @joeldjarin @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @mysaviorjoelmiller @brittmb115 @missladym1981 @jasminedragoon

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #cowboy!joel #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller au #joel miller angst #joel miller tlou #joel x reader

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roosterforme · 3 months

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Always Ever Only You Part 31 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley didn't like the fact that you'd soon be leaving him for a work trip to Annapolis. Being apart was hard enough before, but he knew it would be worse now. His thoughts start to manifest, and he wonders if he'll ever be enough of what you and the baby need.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, pregnancy topics, angst, fluff

Length: 4900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Bradley sat on the living room couch in his boxer briefs with a plate full of peanut butter crackers and a glass of ice water. He'd been doing his due diligence by making sure you ate several small meals throughout the day and fucking you as soon as your eyes welled with tears when you reached for him. He could tell now when you were about to throw up just as easily as he could tell when you needed to get off. It was amazing how unprepared he was for dealing with all of this, but none of it was putting a damper on the constant excitement he felt.

"Okay. Next slide," you said as you hit the spacebar on your laptop which was open on the coffee table displaying information he could barely understand. He held up the plate and let you eat a cracker before handing you the glass of water so you could take a sip. Then you handed it back to him and took a deep breath before diving into the information on the new slide.

You'd been at it for hours, trying to get your parts down perfectly so you could spend the upcoming week rehearsing the presentation with Cat before you left for Annapolis. Bradley came back from playing golf on Sunday, and you and he had a quickie in the laundry room literally while you helped him out of his sweaty clothes. Afterwards, when he tried to get in the shower, you guided him to the couch instead as you said, "Don't shower yet. You smell so good, it'll motivate me to practice my slides."

And that's how he ended up where he was. "You're doing great, Baby Girl," he whispered whenever you paused to eat some of your snacks. "I'm so fucking proud of you."

Bradley marveled, not for the first time, over the fact that you married him. You were the smartest and most capable person he'd ever met, explaining things in such detail that only the most intelligent people in the Navy could possibly comprehend you. All while also wearing his rings and carrying his baby.

He sat as patiently as he could while you meticulously finished your presentation, but as soon as you went over the final slide and closed your laptop, he was up off the couch. And this time he was the one ready to start whining for you. "Can we go to the bedroom?" he asked as you looked at the notes in your binder and put them in a different order.

"Hmm," you hummed, shifting a few more sheets around. "In a minute," you mumbled, but when you bumped into him, you smiled. "You're hard, Bradley."

"Baby Girl," he moaned as you rubbed yourself against him. "Your presentation was way too sexy. Let's go get in bed."

You were laughing. "If you thought it was sexy now, just wait until the admirals get to see me do it in uniform."

"I'm already jealous," he whispered, coaxing you along with his fingers at your back. When he wrapped his hands around to the front of your body, he said, "I can't wait until you have a baby bump."

"I can," you told him softly as you climbed into bed and looked up at him where he stood. "What if I look hideous?"

"You couldn't." His response came quickly, because he didn't have to think about it at all. "You won't. You'll still be perfect."

He ran his fingers along the necklace he'd given you and played with the charms as you asked, "Even when I'm huge and miserable and nine months pregnant? And when I'm all lumpy looking after the baby is born?"

Bradley leaned down and kissed you softly. "You threw up on me yesterday after you burst into tears and yelled at me for leaving Tramp's leash on the porch, and I still wanted to make love to you. I don't think you have anything to worry about."

You groaned and then started laughing and curled up into a ball on your side. "I'm sorry I'm such a mess right now."

"Don't apologize. I know you didn't mean any of it," he replied with a chuckle as he slid into bed behind you and pulled the covers over both of you. "And I'm ready for you to have a belly, because you'll look adorable. And it also means we'll be closer to meeting the chicken nugget for real. The ultrasound pictures are cute and all, but I can't wait to see the little nugget in March."

"You just like calling it that, because it's a Rooster joke," you said as he wrapped his arms around you and kissed your neck. "I'm surprised you're not trying to design a chicken themed nursery."

"Hey," he grunted next to your ear as he worked your yoga pants and your underwear down over your butt. "You promised me we could do airplanes for the nursery," he reminded you, guiding his fingers over your thigh to your tattoo. He traced it from memory as you sighed softly before he felt you spread your legs wider for him. Bradley smiled as he ran one fingertip down your slit, discovering that you were already wet for him. "Baby number two can have a chicken themed nursery."

You moaned his name as he slipped one finger inside you, but he didn't hear you argue about his fantastic idea.

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You were completely scatterbrained at work all week, and you could tell you were making Cat nervous. You'd probably be making Bickel nervous too, but he had so much faith in you, he was completely at ease. The fact that he was sending the two of you to Annapolis for the week on your own was a testament to that fact.

"You'll do great, Lieutenant Commander," he said when you were in his office to give him a final copy of the powerpoint presentation. "Pretty soon you won't even need me around since you could run the lab yourself. Just bring back all of that funding so we can keep the pilots up in the air for as long as possible."

"Yes, sir," you told him with a smile as he tapped through your slides. He made a few comments, and you took notes, but his trust in you and the Top Gun program always made you feel confident.

"This looks great. Call me during the week after you give your presentations."

"We will," you promised, and when he dismissed you, Cat was on you as soon as you were back in the lab.

"What did he think?" she asked, tapping her fingers on the counter. "Did he hate it? Do we have to redo it? You've been so weird all week that it's making me feel weird too!"

You laughed, because for the first time in weeks, you were feeling slightly normal. "He said it's great. We're ready to go."

"Oh," she replied, her fingers relaxing immediately. "I just really want to get a promotion," she whispered. "I really need a pay raise."

"I know," you reassured her. "We'll be fine. I know all of the slides by heart. Bradley has been spending hours practicing them with me."

Cat snorted. "Yeah, something tells me that's a bit of a stretch."

"What do you mean?"

"I've seen you and Bradley in the cafeteria all week," she replied, giving you a knowing look. "Five minutes around him and the two of you go sneaking off. But I guess if I had unlimited access to Jake like that, I would also be 'practicing for hours'."

You knew discretion wasn't your strong suit when it came to your husband, but Cat wasn't going to even humor you trying to deny it. "I've been trying to get as much of him as I can now since I'll have to go days without."

She nodded and said, "We'll have fun though. Maybe we can go out one night for drinks."

The last thing you wanted to do was make her feel like you didn't want to spend time with her in Annapolis. "That would be really fun," you replied with a tight smile. You'd figure it out. Just like you'd figure out how you were going to deal with your parents when you saw them for dinner while you could barely eat.

When you got home from work on Friday, you parked the red Bronco in the empty driveway and let Tramp outside. You were already packing for the trip when Bradley got home. He came into the bedroom and just looked you up and down with his hands on his hips.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" you asked as you stacked up your underwear and some of his shirts that you'd use as pajamas on top of your uniforms on the bed.

"Well I got used to you practically ripping my clothes off as soon as you see me. I half expected you to be waiting on the porch with your panties in your hand."

You laughed. "I'm sorry. Do you want to go back outside and I'll meet you on the porch?"

"Yeah, kinda," he replied, still staring at you with hands planted on his narrow hips. You could feel your saliva pool on your tongue as he smiled, his mustache twitching to one side. "I was just getting used to your pregnancy hormones."

You had to swallow hard as he shifted his weight and dropped his arms to his sides, but the flex of his biceps got you, because you could see his tattoo. He was several feet away, but you swore you could smell him. Your body clenched with need as he ran one hand through his hair, and your voice came out as a needy moan when you said, "You look good, Roo."

When he met your eyes, you could see that your words had some color rising in his cheeks. His lips parted softly, but you were in his arms before he even got a word out. "So the hormones are still in full effect?" he grunted.

"Oh yeah," you whispered, threading your fingers through his hair. "Or maybe it's just how I always am with you."

You were kissing along his neck, inhaling his incredible scent as he rasped, "Sweetheart, I'm going to miss you and the nugget so much next week."

After that, your bedroom was a mess of articles of khaki clothing flying in every direction. Bradley barely got your underwear down your thighs before you were begging for him, and he fucked you while he was still in his boots and uniform pants. Bent over the side of the bed with your face pressed to the bedding next to your travel toiletries bag, you'd never felt as adored in your life. His hands were soft on your hips, and his mouth was feather light as he kissed your spine and between your shoulder blades.

"I love you so much, Sweetheart," he crooned, bringing you closer with each deep thrust. Then his hand was soft on your belly as he whispered, "Love you," over and over again until you came.

You were still bent over the bed a few minutes later with Bradley still inside you while he ran his fingers up and down your arms and kissed your right shoulder. "I think perhaps I should pack a vibrator or two for my trip?"

"I think that would be wise," he replied with a soft chuckle. "Let's get you packed, and then we can take a bath and eat whatever you and the baby want for dinner."

----------------------------

Bradley opened his Amazon package on Sunday morning while you sat on the bathroom floor in front of the toilet. Your flight was in a few hours, and he had no idea how you were going to make it to Maryland in your current state. He was unboxing everything he could find that was supposed to help with morning sickness so you could take it with you.

"Just go play golf, Roo," you moaned through the open door. "I can get Cam or Maria to take me to the airport after brunch."

He sighed as he dropped a pack of lollipops on the bed. He had already invited himself to brunch with your friends. While he made the occasional cameo, he was by no means a regular when it came to you eating that avocado toast, but he wanted to spend as much time with you as possible today.

"I'll be the one taking you to the airport, Baby Girl," he replied as he walked into the bathroom and knelt behind you. "I want to be around you this morning."

You looked at him over your shoulder with watery eyes as you wiped your mouth with toilet paper. "You want to be around this?" Your voice was sarcastic and raw, and he smiled immediately.

"Always." He kissed your forehead and said, "I'm adding the packs of peanut butter crackers to your suitcase along with the candy I bought. And I got you a pregnancy pillow to help you sleep once you have a belly."

You moaned and said, "I was just going to make you be my pregnancy pillow."

He rubbed your back while you threw up and said, "Well now you have two."

After Bradley loaded your suitcase and gigantic plastic tub of stuff for your presentation into the red Bronco, he helped you finish getting dressed. "There's literally nothing in my stomach now," you told him while you sucked on a ginger candy.

"Yeah, and that's not a good thing. Are you going to try to eat your gross breakfast?"

"I'm so hungry," you whimpered. "If we don't leave soon, Cam will order my meal for me and start eating it if I'm not there."

Bradley snorted as the two of you walked outside when you were done saying goodbye to Tramp. He steered you to the passenger side door and buckled you into the new Bronco. "I haven't driven her since we brought her home," he said wistfully, running his hand along your thigh and enjoying the new car smell. You looked really tired, and the last thing he wanted to do was send you off to Maryland, but you seemed excited about giving the presentation and seeing your parents. "I might drive it while you're gone so she and I can miss you together."

You gave him a watery smile. "I don't even want to leave you."

"You'll be fine," he told you with a kiss. "You've got your vibrators."

The way you rolled your eyes made him laugh as he walked around to the driver's side door. When he cranked the engine to life and backed out of the driveway, you gasped. "Have I been that horrible to you?"

Bradley took your hand when you reached for him as he drove down the block. "What are you talking about?"

You burst into tears. "I haven't been appreciating you enough. You think I'm just going to miss your cock."

He was trying so hard not to laugh as he turned left, really enjoying the feel of the second Bronco. "Sweetheart, I don't think that at all. You're doing all the hard work right now, not me. And my cock is yours for the taking."

But you just cried softly as you said, "I'll be better when I get back. I promise. And I'll miss all of you. Every little bit."

Bradley was still wiping away your tears as you wrapped your arms around him when you got to the restaurant. Your emotions were absolutely all over the place right now, and he knew better than to take any of it personally at this point. When the hostess told him that the rest of his party was already here, Bradley was surprised to look up and see Bob at the table with Maria and Cam.

"Oh," you gasped as you and he headed in their direction. "Oh my god, I fucking knew it."

Maria hopped out of her seat to give you a hug, and she seemed a little nervous as she said, "I hope you don't mind that I invited Bob to come too since you said Bradley was coming."

"We don't mind," you told her immediately, and Bradley gave Bob a fist bump while the other man blushed. "It's always nice to see Bob," you said as you bent to kiss his cheek, and his blush grew deeper.

Then you sank down into the seat between Bradley and Bob as Cam said, "I feel like I just crashed a double date. I didn't know it was 'bring your own aviator to brunch day''."

"I'm sorry," Bradley replied as Cam bit into a piece of cinnamon toast a little aggressively. "I only came so I could take this one directly to the airport afterwards."

"I think that's sweet," Maria said with a smile as she so obviously tried not to look at Bob. Bradley also noted that neither of them denied the words double date. "Mimosas for everyone?"

You hummed quietly while Bradley started to panic, but you smoothly said, "None for me," while you looked at the menu as if you were going to order something other than avocado toast. "The time zone switch is already going to mess me up enough later."

Bradley drank a mimosa with his stack of five pancakes to seem as inconspicuous as possible, and the conversation was pretty good once Cam calmed down about being aviator-less for the day, but soon it was time to get you out of there. And not just because it was getting late.

"You okay?" Bradley asked on the walk back to the Bronco as you grabbed his hand.

"I don't know," you mumbled, wrapping your free arm around your stomach. "I miss being able to eat. But I don't really have time to get sick again right now."

"Come on," Bradley coaxed, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. "I outfitted the glovebox with some plastic bags just in case, but now I'm fucking worried about you being in Maryland without me."

You cried softly the whole way to the airport, but you tried to tell him you'd be okay. If you felt like this after every meal, you wouldn't be able to function until Friday night without him looking after you. It wasn't fair. He was already feeling pretty useless, but this just made him feel bad. Maybe he could figure out how to use his time wisely this week to help get things ready for the baby.

As he parked at the curb in front of the airline departures door, Bradley realized Jake's car was in front of him. Cat was hugging Jeremiah while Jake unloaded her luggage, and Bradley leaned down toward your belly without delay. "Gotta make this quick, little nugget," he said, kissing you through your shirt. "Be good for Mommy, okay? I love you, and we'll talk again on Friday when you get home."

You ran your fingers through his hair, and Bradley wanted nothing more than to curl up on your lap with your attention on him for the rest of the afternoon, but that wasn't an option. Instead he kissed your cheek and whispered, "I'll get your stuff from the back."

But even stepping away from you for a minute while you cuddled Jeremiah so Cat and Jake could have a minute to themselves was a lot for him, and seeing you with a child in your arms now was making him feel very protective. Jeremiah smashed his little palms against your face, and you laughed and carried him closer to Bradley. "I think he wants to say hi to you, Roo," you whispered while Bradley ran his thumb along the child's soft cheek.

His body buzzed with excitement as he glanced down at your belly. "This is what I'm really excited for," he told you, and your eyes were so soft as you looked up at him. "The three of us are going to be amazing." He kissed your cheek. "Now hand Jeremiah back over so I can give you a proper goodbye."

Bradley gave Cat a little wave as Jeremiah climbed back into her arms, and he watched as you gave Jake a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. He whispered something in your ear, and you laughed, and Bradley honestly got a little jealous that the seconds were ticking away before you and the baby would be leaving him alone. Jake could just take a backseat right now.

When you caught his eye, Bradley knew he must have looked annoyed, but it was just like when you and he left for your honeymoon all over again. "Baby Girl." His voice sounded a little stern, and you responded to his call like he was your magnetic north, practically flying back into his arms.

Face tipped up to look at him, you said, "I'll miss you," but he didn't let you say anything else. His lips collided with yours as he held you close, hands drifting lower on your back until he was stroking the sides of your belly with his thumbs.

He wanted to keep you at home and give you anything you needed as he tasted your tongue and your teeth. You moaned softly into his mouth and broke the kiss. Bradley cupped your perfect cheek in one hand and let his forehead come to rest against yours. "Promise me you'll try to eat little meals all day."

"I promise," you whispered breathlessly.

He nodded so that his nose bumped the side of yours. "I packed you peanut butter crackers and ginger candies and ginger tea bags and lollipops. Just try to take it easy, okay?"

"I will, Roo."

He closed his eyes and squeezed you a little tighter. "I really don't want the two of you to leave." Tears stung his eyes as he held onto you, and your fingers on his neck and in his hair calmed him down a little bit.

"I'll text you nonstop, okay?" you whispered. "I'll let you know what's going on and how I'm feeling, and then we can talk each day when you leave work."

He nodded. "Just please, take care of yourself. I love you so much."

"I love you, Daddy."

He grunted but reluctantly released you, and you stroked your fingers along his cheek. Then you turned toward your luggage and the plastic bin while Jake held Jeremiah who was now in tears as Cat started to walk away. And when you reached for that heavy bin, Bradley almost shouted.

"Sweetheart," he said as calmly as he could, reaching out to cover your hand with his. "It's heavy."

"I'll take one side," Cat said casually, and you looked up at Bradley with a little smile.

"I can manage it with Cat," you promised, pecking him on the lips one last time before you lifted one end of the bin. Bradley watched nervously as you and she maneuvered through the door, listening to your voice as you told him you loved him and would miss him.

"Damn it," he grunted, leaning back against the Bronco once you were out of sight.

"Angel will be back on Friday. Chill," Jake drawled next to him. "I've never seen someone so pussy whipped in my life, old man."

Bradley glared in response before he spoke. "You're literally holding your girlfriend's son. You wanna rethink that last part?"

Jake chuckled and kissed Jeremiah's forehead. "I never said I wasn't bad, I'm just saying that you are absolutely the worst. You'll be pouty all week at work while she's gone, and you'll eat cereal for dinner every night."

"No, I won't," Bradley pouted. "Are you taking care of Jeremiah all week?" he asked, trying to change the subject, but Jake's answer surprised him a bit.

"I'm sharing Jer duties with Uncle Hondo," he replied easily. "Gotta make this whole thing work out if I want to take things to the next level."

"Next level?"

Jake smirked and started walking back to his car. "You're not the only one who can mate for life, Rooster."

Bradley stood there for another beat while Jeremiah got buckled into his car seat. That's what he did alright; he mated for life, and now it hurt when you weren't with him. His deployments sucked, and this week was going to suck, too. But he didn't want to eat cereal and pout nonstop if he could help it.

"You wanna come by one night? We can lift and take turns playing with Jeremiah and get a pizza or something?"

Jake studied his face and nodded. "Yeah. Thursday?"

"Sure," Bradley replied before climbing back into what was really your Bronco and starting the engine. Now he just had to keep himself entertained until Thursday evening. He turned on one of your playlists and drove home to Tramp and an otherwise empty house.

"Take a walk?" he asked, reaching for the leash, and the dog went ballistic as he jumped up and down in front of the door. "Relax. You can't be like this when the baby gets here. You'll need to be well behaved all the time." Tramp slammed his rear end down on the welcome mat like he knew what he needed to do already. "That's better," Bradley told him as he clipped the leash onto his yellow collar and took him around the block and down to the beach.

These walks were decidedly a lot more fun when you were here laughing and talking nonstop and dancing ahead of Bradley on the sidewalk. And now he was thinking about you pushing a stroller next to him while he had Tramp on the leash. Bradley stumbled as he imagined a baby with the cutest face looking up at him while you smiled and talked about the future.

The reality that this exact scenario could be happening come springtime hit him in the chest and took his breath away. "Let's go," he told Tramp as his excitement mixed with the anxiety he felt nearly all the time now. Because one thing was absolutely certain: Bradley didn't know how to be a dad. You told him it would come naturally. You promised him you weren't lying about that. But if he could just remember a little bit about what it felt like to be a kid with two parents, he figured this feeling would go away. All the excitement in the world wasn't going to prepare him for what came next, and he didn't want to disappoint you or himself.

It wasn't even dark out when he got back, but he did come up with two projects that would hopefully keep him busy for the evening while he tracked your flight to Annapolis. He didn't like thinking about his shortcomings, especially when you weren't home. He changed into some gym shorts and went upstairs into the rarely visited attic space and started looking around. Then he took some photos and some measurements, and then he started to rip up the ugly flooring while imagining how nice it could be as a bedroom for his kid. Or maybe your parents could stay up here when they visited. Maybe it was big enough to be two rooms.

When his phone vibrated in his pocket, he took it out immediately to see that you had texted him.

Baby Girl Bradshaw: We landed. It's so late here, and I threw up in the bathroom near baggage claim, and I'm starving, and I'm horny, and I miss you.

He was fumbling with his phone, about to call you or text you back and remind you not to try to carry that heavy bin, but then you sent him a photo. He laughed as he looked at the bin stacked up along with your suitcase and Cat's luggage on a trolley.

"That's my girl," he muttered, leaving the attic partially torn apart and heading downstairs as he wrote back to you. If you would just take care of yourself all week and come back home to him as soon as possible, he was sure he could figure out what he needed to do. Everything was easier and made more sense when you were together.

He made a bowl of cereal, annoyed that Jake had been right about that much, and he told you to call him once you were settled in your hotel room. Then he took out the pink and blue striped notebook that came with the Amazon shipment and flipped through the blank pages. He found one of your fancy markers in your nightstand, underneath some of the handwritten notes he'd given you and the album of wedding photos.

Bradley sat down on your side of the bed and wrote Baby Bradshaw on the cover of the notebook before tossing the marker back in the drawer. He lounged back on your pillow and thought about what he wanted to write before picking up a pen and getting started.

I guess I should start at the beginning. Hi, I'm your dad. I only just found out about you pretty recently, but I'm already excited to meet you. And it's kind of weird that right now, I hardly know anything about you, but by the time you're reading this for yourself, I hope I'll know a lot. I already love you.

When his phone rang with your specific ringtone, he answered right away, setting the notebook aside as soon as you said, "Hi, Roo."

"Hey, Sweetheart. Tell me about your flight."

-------------------------

He's going to be the best dad, and their child is going to be so loved. But those doubts are so real and can be scary. I hope BG makes it back unscathed. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 32

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fortheb0ys · 7 months

Text

PRICE DURING RETIREMENT

I love old men...I love Price. TOP MALE READER FEM+MINORS DNI! Also not proofread lol

Once Price retires, he's so happy to spend the rest of his life with you. You both got married. You bought a house in a peaceful neighborhood, got a dog. Life couldn't be better. Well, it does. Having more free time just means more sex.

Even though he's an older man, he has the libido of a horny teenager. Sure sometimes he won't be fully erect or not at all but that doesn't stop you from sucking his flaccid dick till he begs you to fuck him in the ass. He found himself wearing bery little or sometimes no clothing around the house, just so you can be quick to fuck him.

You'd be tired from a long deployment, looking forward to relaxing and spending time with your husband but Price had other plans. Having been left alone for some time, his needs became unsatisfied by sex toys. He really needed your dick.

So you both met in the middle. Price got to fuck you to sleep. He'd would ride you till you could bearly keep your eyes open, you swear you passed out a few times. He put a cock ring on you to keep you going.

He hasn't really found much hobbies besides having you fuck him in literally every inch of the house. Bathroom sex check. Sex on the staircase, check. Sex while waiting for the laundry to dry, check. Hell, even having sex in the garden.

It was certainly his favorite due to gardening being his one hobby once he retired. Being outdoors, riding you as you sat in your sunbed. Having the warm sun on his face adding to the heat of your heavy cock dragging in and out of his tight ass. It was a bit of a rush to think if your neighbors were to peek over the fence to greet you or to figure out the commotion, they'd be surprised to see him having his back blow out as he's getting fucked against the fence.

You'll always have to tell him to hush but most of the time it didn't work, so you'd have to stick your cock in his mouth just to muffle his moans. 'How about I invite them over? Let them get to know the little slut who lives next door. Maybe they'll like to try him out,' you'd tease. Though he was full well knowing you wouldn't share.

Other days he'll just be soaking in the sun as his ass is filled with your cum. He'd just stick a plug in so he can feel it inside all afternoon while he's mowing the lawn or tending to the flowers.

Even though he was retired you were a few years away from yours. As you did paperwork, Price would sit in your lap as you cock warm him. Once he started getting bored, he'd start riding you without warning. Or he just be satisfied by having your dick resting in his mouth while he sat underneath your desk. Every so often you'd thrust in his mouth making him gag a little. He would rut against your leg like a bitch in heat as your balls hit his chin, drool dripping down his chin.

Price tries to put his two cents in when it comes to you commanding your troupes. It pisses you off cause 1. They're your men and 2. He shouldn't be thinking about war in his retirement so you fuck him as punishment. "You think you can tell me what to do? They're MY men and you don't have a say in my commands."

Price is just a hot old man that needs a good dick down :)

#call of duty mwii #john price #john price x male reader #x top male reader #john price x top male reader #call of duty x male reader #call of duty x reader #x reader #john price x reader

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yuujisuku · 3 months

Text

SUKUNA X READER ROOMMATE AU

decided to write this on a whim and i think it came out pretty great! part 2 is here

part 3 will be a prequel to 1 and 2!! I hope you guys like this one hehe

tags: energetic cutesie bubbly reader, fluff, college roommate au, reader and sukuna have a little study date, fem reader but could be read however you want hehe!!

“Hey princess! Get back here and finish your laundry. Also, don't put all your damn clothes on the kitchen table.” Sukuna shouts from the kitchen. You immediately tell Nobara you'd call her back later and go back to take care of the chores you forgot momentarily.

“I'm sorry ‘Kuna. I got distracted!” You rush to the kitchen and when you see your big grumpy roommate, you get on your tiptoes and give him a kiss on his tatted cheek. You quickly grap the remaining clothes you've folded and rush back to your room.

When you get back to the kitchen, you make Sukuna's favorite beverage as an apology. He loves black coffee with just one Splenda at the bottom, completely different from your favorite. Which is sweet matcha or a strawberry boba drink. You love sweet things, but Sukuna doesn't. You do, though, appreciate each other's differences.

You knew he would also need a few cups of coffee to study for the finals you both had to get through. Sukuna would tell you that you don't need to take care of him to get him through these stupid exams, but you wanted to. You have a massive amount of energy that gets you through these exams. You don't even need coffee to get through an all-nighter, Sukuna however does.

“Hey, ‘Kuna!” You head over to his room and knock on the door that's already a bit ajar. Sukuna grunts signaling for you to come in. You see him with a few textbooks on one side of his desk and a few pens and papers on the other.

“I made you something!” You set the coffee on the far end of his desk, being careful not to spill it.

“Let me know if you need anything else, ‘Kuna! Love you!” You begin walking to the door when Sukuna grabs your arm to stop you.

“You forgot something.”

You gasp, running through your mind again to catch anything you forgot to do during the day, but you couldn't. Oh no! Is he mad at you? You really couldn't handle it if Sukuna got mad at you.

“My kiss, dummy.”

Oh! So that's what he was talking about. You always give Sukuna a kiss on the cheek, when you greet him, during the day, and just basically whenever you feel like it. You giggle and quickly press a kiss against his tatted cheek.

When night time came, you weren't even that sleepy. You wanted to check on Sukuna. You didn't want to pull an all-nighter this time. Besides, you ace your exams best when you study for them right before.

You head to Sukuna's room to see if he was there, but your roommate was nowhere to be found. You thought he went out to get some snacks, so you waited for him in the living room.

He comes back not only a few minutes later, with some energy drinks for him and some hot chocolate powder and chips for you.

“Oooh, what do we have here!” You reach for the chips but Sukuna slaps your hand away.

“Don't touch.” You pout, but he quickly grabs a large bowl and dumps the chips in.

“Do you want me to help you while you study? We can do some practice questions together.” You offer while you grab a few doritos and shove them down.

“I don't need help.” Of course he would say that. That's your Sukuna, so deep set in his ways. (That he doesn't even feel the need to work through.)

“Pleaaaase!!” You beg with chips still in your mouth and it comes out muffled.

“Princess, I'd love it if you were to help me but you'd just get me distracted. You know how that ends.” Sukuna smirks at your pouty face.

“Noooo!!” You shove more doritos down your throat. “I will witerally be so sewious!!”

Sukuna chuckles at you. You're way too cute for him. Since you're so insistent, he decides that he'd be your study partner. What's the harm in it anyway?

“Fine. Try not to get chip crumbs on my papers.”

“Yay!!”

“I didn't take you for someone to be good at English instead of Maths.” You tell Sukuna.

“It just comes easier for me, princess. I love reading poetry.”

“Oooh that's so sweet! That makes you look more handsome to me than you already are.”

Sukuna chuckles at your bold flirting. “If you keep talking to me like that, I'm going to make you give me more than just a cheek kiss.”

Your stomach flutters at how sexy his voice sounds at times. You imagine him saying something like that to you in bed. But more dirtier and filled with desire. You hope you aren't blushing, but you definitely were. You didn't realize you were just blankly staring at Sukuna until you caught him smirking.

“Let's just get back to the material.” You let out a pathetic whine. Sukuna's laugh is rich and throaty. You hated it when he teased you because you couldn't resist it. You clench your thighs that are glued to your chair. This moment is even worse than when you first saw Sukuna shirtless.

Hours pass by, and you fall asleep on your study papers, lightly snoring. Sukuna tries to pick you up without waking you, carrying you back to your room.

You look so beautiful when you're asleep, Sukuna thinks. He could watch you just doing absolutely nothing for hours if you look so at peace.

Sukuna remembers when you two were in high school, you were a timid, shy thing. He wanted to take you away from that place and protect you. You were treated like trash. People would bully and torment you to no end, but he taught them a lesson. No one would touch what was his.

He's happy you are safe now.

He tucks you in bed and pulls a stray piece of hair behind your ear. He presses a kiss to your head and walks out the door.

He fell for you the moment your eyes met his on that afternoon school day. His cute little roommate.

#ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader fanfic #ryomen sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna fluff fic #sukuna fluff #sukuna fluff fanfic

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nevvdrinksteaa · 5 months

Text

favors pt. i

~~~

i think that this sounded better in my head, but i went ahead and wrote it anyways because i really couldn’t stop thinking about it. also kinda leaned into the horny vibe i was feeling, i’ve never written smut but i’ve read a lot and i think i could do it lmao

~~~

pairing: mike schmidt x reader

prompt: idea from sweet child o’ mine @macfrog (it’s amazing i suggest you read it)

you’re abby’s babysitter and mike can’t pay you just quite yet and he asks if he can do anything for you in return and you mention that you need a date to your brother’s wedding.

warnings: uhmm fluff, angst, suggestive content, i think that’s it, let me know if i missed something!

word count: 1.7k

PART TWO HERE

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Waking up from your uncomfortable position on the couch, you heard the rain pattering on the window. The cold air suddenly swarming your body as you woke from your slumber. You reach over and tap your phone on the coffee table, watching the screen light up and checking the time. 5:48 AM Mike should be home in about 30 minutes. You reluctantly decided to slowly remove the blanket, standing up and reaching your hands in the air, stretching your stiff body as much as humanly possible.

You decided to help Mike and start cleaning up the mess you and Abby made from your activities. You start picking up the crayons, markers, and pencils and place them in the pink basket you picked out for Abby hours before coming over, smiling at how she colored in the paper hearts that were stuck to the sides, picking up the loose paper and sticking it in a neat pile on the desk on the dining table for Abby to use when she wakes up. You walk directly towards the hallway, taking clothes from the hamper and starting a load of laundry. Softly chuckling to yourself about how manly the laundry detergent Mike picked out smelled, you filled up the cap with the green goop and threw it in the washer.

Mike walked through the door as you were finishing up the dishes, drying off the big bowls you and Abby used to make brownies. He kicked his shoes off by the door and placed his keys on the little hook above the light switch. He looked at you for a few moments, taking in how cute you looked dancing to the soft music that came from your phone, how pretty your hair looked slightly knotted from your nap on the couch, the shorts you were wearing creeping up your legs with every step you take.

Mike loved watching you, in the least creepy way possible. He adored everything about you, taking the little extra time he had to notice things he never had any interest in noticing in anyone else before. You were so different and he was so infatuated, interested in getting to know you, getting to know your interests, getting to know your body. He thought about you constantly, something about you made him feel like a teenage boy. He was deep in thought when you turned around, yelping when you noticed him staring at you.

“You want to take a picture? Some people say they last longer” you say smirking, crossing your arms at the brown-eyed boy.

He chuckled softly at your flirtatious comment, a light pink dusting spreading across his tired face, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. You were listening to music and didn’t hear me come in.”

“It’s okay, I was just finishing up some dishes, I didn’t think it would’ve been fair to leave you with the brownie mess” His ears perked up with excitement “You made brownies?”

He faked surprise, ‘Of course, you made brownies’. You were always doing extra things, it was his favorite thing about you, always doing the most and expecting nothing in return.

You grabbed a brownie for yourself before sliding the plate over to the pretty boy. You stayed leaning against the island, smirking to yourself when you saw Mike's eyes dart to your chest.

“Abby and I made them, she said that she wanted to surprise you when you got off work”

“I swear that kid is only nice to me when you’re here,” he said, partially to you and partially to himself.

Rolling your eyes “You know that isn’t true, she adores you”

“I would strongly disagree, She told me I was the ‘dumbest person ever’ when I told her she needed to eat more than just spaghetti and pizza”

“To her defense, she ate brownies today, that's more than spaghetti and pizza”

“I cannot believe you would rather agree with a 10 year old than me” He put a hand over his heart, sighing heavily to show he was hurt by your words. “I always knew you liked Abby more than me.”

You looked at him, eyes wide at his comment. “Sorry, I thought it was clear that I liked her more than you” you paused, for dramatic effect “I never tried to keep it a secret.”

He laughs grabbing a second brownie, and moving away from the kitchen island toward the couch. “You coming?”

“I could be” you winked, smirking at him. He shook his head, thinking of all of the ways and positions he really could make you cum.

You start to follow him, scolding yourself for flirting with him, staying behind for a few seconds to click the lid back on the Tupperware container.

You walk around to the left side of the couch, opposite to where Mike was sitting. After your comment, you got nervous, thinking you pushed it too far. You started noticing the quietness that suddenly arose and not knowing what to say to make things less awkward.

Mike was the first to break the silence, “How was she today?”

“She was good, I was able to pull her away from her drawings long enough to watch a movie. We watched Coco and the end made her cry, then she called me a monster for making her watch it and walked right back to the bedroom to color” You giggle at the memory of the evening you had with the younger sibling.

“Sounds like Abby” Mike sighed “At least she’s warming up to you enough to sit and watch a movie with you, I can’t remember the last time we sat down for a movie”

You grabbed his hand, noticing the sadness that started to form on his face. “You know she loves you, she talks about you constantly, you’re front and center of every one of her drawings. You’re her favorite person”

He smiled softly at your kind words, grateful to have you there to comfort him. “Thank you”

“Of course, that’s what I'm here for”

“Technically you're here because you babysit my sister, but it does make me feel good to think that you’re here only for me”

“Yeah yeah Schmidt, keep telling yourself that”

“Speaking of” Mike trailed off, “It’s going to be just a little bit longer before I can pay you, the new job doesn’t offer insurance so I have to pay for everything out of pocket and Abby was just sick-” You cut him off

“Mike you know I’m not worried about it” he sighed and you could tell by the look on his face that he was still bothered by not being able to pay her.

It had been three weeks since you started babysitting for Mike, coming early to help him make dinner before he leaves for work and staying late to get Abby dressed and feeding her before driving her to school so Mike could get more than an hour of sleep.

You enjoyed helping Mike and loved taking care of Abby, you were the oldest child in your family, so you were used to caring for people.

Mike hated it, it made him feel so guilty. He felt like he was taking advantage of your kindness, promising you every day that it would be only a little bit longer before he could pay you.

“You know, if you feel bad you could just repay me with a favor”

Mike perked up. His mind was filling with ideas of what could fall out of your pretty little lips. He would do anything you asked him to, make you dinner, give you a massage, eat you out for hours and hours. ‘God, why was he suddenly so horny?’

“What kind of favor are you thinking?” slightly squeezing his hand that was placed across your soft thighs. As soon as the words came out of his mouth he felt like a cheap whore, suddenly nervous that he was coming onto you so strong and you wouldn’t reciprocate.

“As tempting as this favor is,” you say placing a hand on his chest “I was thinking something else”

He was suddenly so embarrassed. He quickly pulled his hand away, placing it in his lap, and looking away from your beautiful face. You felt bad seeing a pitiful look on his face, hurting Mike’s feelings was the last thing you wanted to do.

“My brother is getting married in two weeks and I need a date.” He was ecstatic, pushing his horny feelings aside, he could picture it in his head; you two hand in hand, his tie matching your dress, sharing a kiss after your first slow dance-

“My boyfriend has a work conference and he has to be at” You have a boyfriend? “and my family is so annoying if I know if I come without a date, all they would do is tell me that I’m wasting my life away and I’m going to forever be so lonely and-” You have a boyfriend? How could he not know that?

“Mike, are you listening to me? If you’re uncomfortable pretending to be my boyfriend then I could always ask someone else”

“I’ll do it” Against his better judgment, he agrees, hoping that something could come out of it

“Really? Oh my god, thank you so much!” You lean over and hug him “You’re really saving my ass”

“Anything to help” he laughs, trying to make it seem like you didn’t just stab him in the chest with a casual mention of your boyfriend.

Suddenly, your alarm goes off and you pull away from the hug. Mike felt cold at the loss of contact.

“It’s 7:30, you should get to bed” you state standing up from your spot on the couch “I’ll get Abby ready from school so you can catch up on some sleep, I’ll text you the details of the wedding after I drop her off”

Mike watched as you walked away, feeling like he just got punched in the gut. You didn’t feel the way he did and god that was embarrassing. He never had time to even think about a relationship and the first time in a long time he does, the girl in question has a boyfriend.

Mike let out a deep sigh and got up, heading towards his bedroom ready to close his eyes and forget about the miserable conversation. As he walks past Abby’s room he notices you crouched beside her bed, softly shaking her awake.

Fake boyfriend or not, at least he knows he won’t be pretending about his feelings for you to your family.

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut #five nights at freddy's #josh hutcherson #nev writes

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ovaryacted · 3 months

Note

Well let me send some soft!Leon.

Leon is the type of guy to be like “I may have gotten bitten by zombies and thrown against walls but like. That’s still better than period cramps.”

If he’s not away on a mission, I imagine he’d want to just lay in bed with you all day. He gives good snuggles. Gets tea and the heating pad.

But also, I had the hilarious imagine of Leon being real fucking clueless with the emotions of it. You know the meme of the girl over the toilet being pat on the back by a broom? That’s Leon. He’s like “there there” while keeping 10ft away from you.

Unironically if you run out of pads/tampons he probably texts you “what size coochie you wear?” Or whatever. But! If you tell him, that’s the only time you need to because he remembers.

Also, not embarrassed about getting period products. I mean, this guy is built like a house, and attractive as fuck everyone knows he’s picking stuff up for his lady. Probably getting head too let’s be honest.

He also picks up your face snack.

-angsty anon (I guess not angsty this time lol)

EEEEEEK thank you for sending this angsty (not so angsty) anon cause I actually feel like shit at work but this was so cute. Also I know the memes you’re talking about they’re deep in my gallery I can’t find them right now lmao. But yeah let me cook and self indulge cause I can. (And cause the cramps are starting to ramp up).

Disclaimer: I know everyone’s period cycle is different, this is not a one size fits all. I’m speaking generally, mostly about myself but yeah if it doesn’t apply let it fly and that’s okay! Leon would still be a good partner and meet your needs either way. 🫶

Leon to me is the type of guy that would provide comfort and humor whenever you need it and without you having to ask for it. He just cares, that’s all he does really. But of course, he’s aware that when your cycle hits, he has to be more aware of your emotions and what you need. He’s very in tune when it comes to tending to you, but he isn’t afraid to ask so he can give you exactly what you want.

If he isn’t at home, he’d probably have your cycle tracked on his phone so he knows when to send you a gift package or flowers just so you know he’s around. If he’s going on mission, he’d send those things in advance, and when he comes back home he’d bring your favorite food and snacks as a welcome present.

But when he is home and he knows your period is about to kickstart, he instantly goes into house husband mode. He knows the first few days are the toughest and it gets easier over time, but sometimes all you want to do is just stay curled up in bed and sleep the pain off. He’d be right there beside you, giving you tea and pain medication if you ask for it, making sure you have water nearby and a heating pad to help with your comfort. Clothing wise, he gives you his clothes, ones you already stole from him anyway, finding his boxers much more comfortable than the panties you have, and a baggy t-shirt that smells like him to ease your nerves.

He handles the chores in your living space, cleans the place up and does the laundry, plus he gets groceries and cooks if that’s what you request. When he does go out to do the shopping, he asks you what snacks you want, already having some in mind but double checks if you want something specific. It doesn’t matter how ridiculous your cravings are, he’ll give them to you without judgement. You can eat all the junk and sugar you want, so long as it helps with your mood he’ll get it. Or if you want fruits and things that are a bit easier to eat considering your nausea, he’ll get that too.

He buys your feminine products without shame, gets irritated about how expensive they are “because they should be free” according to him, and gets you an extra box for you to have in advance. There may be other people in the section watching him as he finds the exact brand and size you use, not that he cares if he’s being watched, and he can hear your voice in his head talking about it.

Get the all cotton ones with wings, medium-sized. The thicker ones are for overnight, so get me a pack too. Do not get the ones that say light flow or small, those don’t do shit!

Your emotions are all over the place, more sensitive and easily irritable by anything and everything. At times it scares him how fast your mood can change, but he doesn’t judge you for it, you can’t help the way your body behaves. He doesn’t hover over you, comes by to check in, see if you feel any better. If you ask him to cuddle with you, he’ll do that no questions asked, but if you don’t want to be touched, he’ll leave you alone and let you rest. It’s not personal to him, he gets it, somewhat at least. He’ll send you cute text messages with those silly emoticons from the living room, or send you a funny video he saw on social media (it didn’t make you laugh but it’s the thought that counts).

The mental aspects of your cycle can be debilitating at times, and it’ll make you second guess things that shouldn’t be in your head. Leon knows what that’s like, and he’s there for you to talk to if you need it. He’s ready with affirmations, soft words, and constantly tells you that he adores you and loves you. Shit that makes your heart warm and your mind shut up, he just supports you in whatever you need.

Now as for the secret period horniness that sometimes likes to sneak up on you, he’s also willing to provide. It doesn’t happen often, but he knows when it does. When you’re snuggled up into him and start shifting your hips against him, or when your breathing gets a bit shaky the moment his hands come up towards your thighs. He’s on your time, whatever you say goes, and he only does things if you ask for them. So if you say you want to be touched he’ll do it, he’ll caress you and massage your chest to ease the soreness you feel there. If you want to suck him off to appease to your oral fixation, he’ll let you, and happily keep your hair up and praise you along the way. And if you tell him you want to have sex with him, he’ll bring out the towels or propose a shower, whatever you decide he’s fine with. It doesn’t bother him, he’s seen so much blood and gore that this is the last of his concerns. Plus, orgasms help with period cramps so whatever helps you, he’ll do it.

Whatever you need, he’s willing to provide. Thats just the type of man and partner he is.

I need him. Im fucking sad.

#leon kennedy headcanons #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy x you #leon x reader #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #resident evil drabble #please I need him so bad #you don’t understand #₊˚⊹ ♡ ─ angsty anon #ovaryacted thoughts #ovaryacted asks

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abravesoul03 · 3 months

Text

How would being married to Chocol be like?

Chocol X Fem reader

Warnings: (None?) (No smut implied) mention of GP Chocol?!

A/N:Heyy my loves~ how has everyone been? I'm back with a Chocol Headcanon.

(=^･ｪ･^=)(=^･ｪ･^=)(=^･ｪ･^=)(=^･ｪ･^=)(=^･ｪ)

HOW THINGS STARTED

-First of all it was an arranged marriage.

-Your a lot younger than her. (Legal age gap)

-You were the quite type just like Gayoung and she pretty much had to initiate things during the start of your life's together.

-Will check on you from time to time if your comfortable with things she does with you.

- "y/n can I do this?" "Can I hold your hand?" "Is this ok? Not too much?"

-When things get silent between the two of you, she always tries to start a conversation.

-"heyy, how was your day?" "How are you feeling today?" "I'm going out later, do you need anything?"

-After you guys got married, She would ask you to stop working. (If you were employed that is.) She wants to be able to provide for you. But if you do want to continue being employed she won't mind.

-In the start things do seem to go slow but steady.

-Day by day she'll build your trust on her.

-At night, you guys do have your own rooms. She wants to respect your privacy and doesn't want force things, until your ready.

-Is protective of you but doesn't show it.

-Your her wife now, her treasure to take care of. And one is gonna take you away.

WHEN THINGS START TO CLIMB UP

-After about a month or so, you started to show signs that you wanted to take things further with Gayoung.

-It's a good thing that she caught your hints.

-The first thing she does is tries out calling you with pet names.

-"good morning my love~" "Hello there pretty girl." "Jagi are you hungry?"

-Then it progress to soft touches.

-Like when your cooking, she comes behind you and rests her hand on your waist.

-Or when the two of you are watching a movie together, she would scoot over and sit closer to you. Her arm draped over your shoulder.

-Also when you guys go out, she would definitely hold your hand or have hers around your waist.

-On one faithful night where the power suddenly cut off, that's when you two started to share a room together. (Obviously someone was scared to sleep alone in the dark)

-"y/n, jagi? Do you perhaps want to sleep in my room-" "yes please, I-I would love to."

-She found it cute, how you brought your blanket and pillow running up to her.

-Each of you on either side of the bed. She held your hand throughout the night.

-"I'm here, if you get scared just squeeze onto my hand jagi."

-You were soon lulled into sleep mode.

-In the morning both of you found each others limbs tangled with eachother's. Her face was close to you.

-As you were admiring her handsome pretty features her eyes fluttered open looking at you.

-She just moved closer planting a kiss your lips. Your first together.

-From that day on, Gayoung woke you up with morning kisses every morning and good night kisses before bed.

HOW IS IT IN YOUR HOUSEHOLD

-Gayoung isn't that good in the kitchen, so it's your task.

(BESIDES WHO'S COMPLAINING?! CHOCOL COULD BE THE BREAD WINNER AND I'LL BE HER HOUSE WIFE🥹)

-You always amaze her with your cooking skills. Anything you make, she'll love it.

-She'll occasionally help you out by washing the dishes, cutting vegetables, taste testing in the middle of your cooking, tying your apron from behind and so on.

-Chocol would help you tidy the place up during her off days.

-If your working too then you guys would settle on a personal maid for the housework.

-Gayoung would also take the task to fold the clean laundry.

-I feel like she would fold your clothes in cute shapes and will arrange them neatly in closet.

THE WAY SHE SHOWS HER LOVE

-The way Chocol shows her affection is, physical touch and gifts.

-As mentioned before, she loves to kiss you. Your lips, cheeks, forehead, temples, earlobe, neck basically You.

-How would she kiss you?

-Your cheeks: she grab your jaw delicately and pecks them a few times.

-Your Forehead: If your sitting down, and she has to go somewhere. She would hold your face with both of her hands and kiss your forehead.

-Temples/Earlobe: These kisses probably happen when you both cuddle. Gayoung sitting at the end of the couch, with you on her lap leaning your back on the arm rest. Her arms secure on your waist, she would leave gentle kisses on them while whispering sweet nothings.

-"oh jagi you look so cute my baby." "How did I get so lucky to have a wife like you?" "Your my everything y/n-ah~"

-Your neck: for the neck, it would be a mistake. Not that she didn't wanted to kiss you there, it's just that it was unexpected. It happened when she was asleep. You felt her snuggling against your neck and something soft glide over them. She wouldn't really remember if you ask her though.

-Other than that, Miss Jo loves spoiling you with gifts. May they be something expensive like rings or lockets to something that she saw on online.

-But most of time, she spoils you with your favourite sweet treats.

-Anything you ask for you'll have it. She'll get/give you the moon if you'd ask.

HOW WOULD STARTING A FAMILY BE LIKE

-Starting a family hasn't really crossed her mind.

-But if you wanted then she would do everything in her power to build that family with you.

-If you guys do start one, maybe having 2 of your own little angels.

-About your pregnancy, when you do get pregnant whether it be from a donor, adoption or gp Gayoung?

-She would care for you throughout your journey.

-Your her baby, carrying another baby.

-So gentle and caring

-Will you get anything you want, just name it and it's yours. (Wouldn't even hesitate to burn down Mnet for you)

-Like I've said before,she just loves loves loves to spoil you.

-It's 3am your craving for that specific food? She'll have it Infront of you in minutes.

-Your back hurts? She'll give you back rubs.

-Want her attention? She's all yours.

-THE END-

(ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅฅ^•ﻌ•)

#abravesoul.txt #abravesoul thoughts #swf2 imagine #swf2 x reader #swf2 #chocol x reader #chocol swf2

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heartsforsserafim · 7 months

Note

First of all, your blog is amazing.

Second can I request a GP Siyeon X GP Minji X pillow Princess reader.

Subby reader wanting them to take care of her neediness.

Reader is also shy to ask for what she wants especially when she wants them to go faster. So Minji and Siyeon have ask them?

Nectar

pairing ; siyeon x minji x fem!reader

genre ; smut/fluff

tw ; gp!siyeon, gp!minji, unprotected sex, creampie, dom!siyeon, dom!minji, pillow princess!reader, somewhat shy/subby reader, oral (r receiving), threesome (kind of?), soft sex/rough sex

You always loved being in a relationship where both of your partners are dominant. Siyeon was way more than minji was but it of course worked out for you, they were definitely caring.

They knew when it was an even day, or which days worked best within their schedules. Today was an even day but they both were at work, and there was nothing to help you do with the heat between your legs.

Minji decided to text you since she knew today was the day, just checking in. You lied and said you were fine but in reality all you could think about is the girls fucking you dumb.

Minji ended the conversation with i love you, and you did as well. Siyeon texted you as well, checking in. The same process as minji's, god just texting them made you so wet.

You knew it'd be a long day before they're home, so you tried to distract yourself from it. Playing games, to watching tv, doing the laundry, changing all the bed sheet sets. Just everything that came to mind, you even started looking for a new aesthetic of clothing. Nothing worked all you could think of is your two girlfriends dicking you down and god did you just want that.

(...)

The two girls arrived home, around the same time. You were watching tv, not really paying attention since your brain wouldn't even let you think.

"Hey baby" minji said and kissed your forehead before walking down the hallway, to the bathroom you supposed. "Hi honey" siyeon said as well, kissing your cheek before going to the bedroom you guessed. Once again you sat here, needy too scared to voice any of your wants or needs.

Since the girls KNEW it was an even day, they wanted to go by whatever you asked for and well since you never asked for the sex they just assumed that you didn't want to do it anymore.

Therefore it was fine, after minji showered she ordered take out, and walked out of the bathroom in just her boxer shorts. Walking into the living room to ask you something, she saw you were decently dazed out.

"Hey babe?" minji walked closer to you, her eyes were filled with worry. "Are you okay?" she shook you a bit. "O-oh yeah i'm fine" you say, she looks at you. Direct eye contact, "I know what today is and are you sure you don't want to?"

You knew she'd ask all night since even days you'd never miss a beat about mentioning it to them. Sitting there in silence, before officially saying "I uh.. i-" you tried to speak but you couldn't say it. Your head fell down and your face was red.

Minji knew what you wanted but she wanted you to say it, siyeon soon walked into the living room dressed in grey sweats and a white tshirt. God did she look so attractive, the way her bulge rested in the pants too. God did you want them to ruin you, but you just couldn't say it.

(...)

Time passed and the girls were now sitting on the floor while you sat on the couch, minji had a thought and decided to tell siyeon. She agreed to it and began removing her clothes, only leaving herself in her boxers just like minji was. "U-uhm what are you two doing?" you asked, taking your attention away from the movie. "Nothing, don't worry my love" siyeon said, standing up and sitting next to you.

Minji followed the older girl, sitting on the other side of you. Siyeon whispered into your ear, "You know, me and minji would love some dessert" your face went red, knowing what she was referring to. "We would love to lick it all up my love" minji said in your other ear.

By this point you really had no more self respect, you sat back and told the girls you wanted it. They wasted no time in removing your pants and panties. Seeing how soaked you were made their cocks throb. Minji placed one digit onto your clit, and rubbed slow circles. Watching as your body responds to her movements.

Siyeon watched the girl while she removed her boxers, her cock standing tall along her abdomen. You were whimpering minji's name and god did those two love hearing it. Siyeon walked over and leaned down, marking your chest with her hickeys and love bites. Minji sped up a bit, you began moaning louder.

Those two were in complete ecstasy, switching positions. Minji was marking you up, while siyeon began lining herself up with your entrance. She slowly entered, "A-ah~ M-mmph~" you moaned. Minji found your sweet spot and you swore you could've came right there. Siyeon began pumping slowly, her thrusts deep and shallow.

Minji stopped kissing you for a bit, and played with your breast, her other hand going into her boxers to pump her long veiny cock. Seeing you and siyeon fuck was enough to make the girl cum so early, she had barely touched herself. Siyeon was going too slow for your liking and seeing minji cum made you so much more needy.

"F-faster.." you whispered, only minji heard you. Siyeon stopped her movements, wondered if you said the safe word or if you asked for more. Awaiting your reply, she stayed inside of you, not moving. You moved your hips a bit, moaning at the feeling. Then siyeon knew what you wanted. She grabbed your hips, and began fucking you faster.

You were a complete mess under her, the way her cock touched every single part of your cunt made you go crazy. Minji was still marking you, and soon began to give attention to your breasts. Cupping them and massaging them, occasionally licking them a bit. The two girls giving you this much pleasure, you felt so close to your orgasm.

You got louder and that's how they knew, you felt your high so close and then, siyeon pulled out. You whined due to the emptiness and how they were edging you, but minji filled you up so fast and began thrusting. She normally would've let you adjust but tonight they want you to get what you were asking for.

Minji grabbed your waist, holding it for dear life as she destroyed your cunt. Your orgasm was building up again, your walls tightening around her so well, she slid in and out faster and faster. Soon you came, and she came as well. Filling you up into your womb, she stayed inside for a bit before pulling out. Her load leaking out from your cunt, that scene drove siyeon over the edge she came onto your stomach.

(...)

Panting minji laid on the floor, her cock softening. She looked over to you and siyeon and chuckled a bit. "Guess we still ended an even day well" you two laughed along with her

#kpop #girl group smut #kpop smut #dreamcatcher #dreamcatcher smut #newjeans #newjeans smut #lee siyeon #siyeon #kim minji #minji

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her-satanic-wiles · 6 months

Text

Day 31 - Halloween

Monster Fucking, Ghost!Papa Emeritus III x Plus Size!Reader

Masterlist

Words: 14.2k.

Warnings: Teratophilia/monster fucking; graphic depictions of blood; graphic depictions of death; graphic depictions of beheading; detailed grief; major character death; death of a loved one; haunting; public sex; teasing; fingering; vaginal fingering; not actual dubcon, but dubcon elements (a character’s hand gets grabbed and squeezed during a scene, but the character has no idea what’s going on); groping; nipple play; public cunnilingus; squirting; hurt/comfort; partner worship; praise kink; vaginal sex; piv; possessive Terzo; implied depression;

Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man @sodomiser @the-did-i-ask @copias-sewer-rat @gehrmansbignaturals @deetz-ghuleh @onlyhereforghost @zombiesnips-blog @saturnhas82moons @starscream-squarepants

Author's Note: Hello, lovely!

I just wanted to take this time to thank you profusely for your support every day this entire month. It has honestly meant the world to me that you're taking the time out of your day and enjoying my content.

I wanted to give an extra shout-out and super thanks to @da-rulah for not only beta reading a bunch of my fics and making sure you could understand my droning, but also giving me inspiration when I needed it and helping me workshop ideas on days when the list just wasn't working out for me.

Also major thank you to @copias-sewer-rat and @sodoswitchimage for constantly being in my replies and reblogging the fics and just generally being gorgeous people. I appreciate you two so much for consistently hyping up the fics.

One final thing before I let you enjoy this final piece, I just wanted to double check that you've read the trigger warnings and are comfortable enough to proceed. This is dark fiction, horror based with graphic depictions of poor mental health and physical violence, and I want to make sure that you're aware of this before you go ahead. As this is dark fiction, I will be rating it 21+, so I kindly ask you to respect this rating.

Thank you so much,

Mel

🔞 MDNI 🔞

You sat in the dimly lit room, surrounded by the remnants of your shattered world. Your body was cloaked in his clothes, his suit jacket that he’d intended to send down to laundry hanging off your body. His scent lingered on the fibres, comforting you even if it was just momentarily, and his Grucifix hanging from your neck and resting against your soft breasts, a small weighted comfort that you couldn’t liken to his touch - it was too cold.

The suffocating weight of grief consumed you, its tendrils winding around your every thought and breath. The image of his lifeless body, his head cruelly severed from his shoulders by the unforgiving hand of the Ministry’s authority, replayed relentlessly in your mind, tormenting you with its vivid brutality. The look in his lifeless eyes haunting you to this day every time you closed yours. The feeling of Cardinal Copia’s hands on your body, trying to shield you from the horror you were never meant to see. The sound of Imperator’s voice claiming pity for the fallen Papa as she stepped away from his pooling blood so her shoes wouldn’t soil. Her hearty tone of congratulations aimed at her estranged son, while you wept on the floor, reaching out for Terzo’s lifeless body.

With trembling hands, you reached for the Ouija board, the only thing you had left to reach Terzo. The board felt cool and smooth under your fingertips, its letters and numbers arranged in a circle, an eerie portal to the unknown. You had heard the whispers, the warnings about meddling with forces beyond your understanding, but your need to speak to him, to find any sliver of solace in this maelstrom of despair, drowned out the cautious voice within.

The room fell silent as you placed your fingertips on the planchette, your breath caught in your throat and mind silencing itself in order to fully focus on the task at hand. You closed your eyes, trying to summon the fragments of his memory, his voice, his touch, anything that could guide your hand. Your voice, shaky and grief-laden, calling out to him in the abyss. Your soul was crying, begging, screaming for anything from him, nursing a heart that broke further with every second that passed, every second that he didn’t make his presence known to you. Tears began to well in your eyes, the hopelessness overwhelming your senses. “Terzo, please!” You begged to the open air, eyes pointed skywards even though you knew Heaven wasn’t his final destination. “Come back to me.”

A sense of unease crept over you, the air thickening with an unseen presence that seemed to seep through the cracks of your fragile reality. The planchette shuddered under your touch, then began to move, its deliberate motion spelling out words that echoed like whispers from a distant, forbidden realm. The tears you were shedding as the planchette moved froze alongside your blood, as your eyes focussed on the board in front of you, unbelieving it was actually moving.

Your heart quickened as the letters formed a message, disjointed and cryptic, a reflection of a presence that both frightened and thrilled you. The room grew colder, shadows dancing along the walls, and you felt a chilling breath on the nape of your neck, as if unseen eyes were watching you from the darkest corners. Despite the mounting terror, you couldn’t bring yourself to let go, to sever this ethereal connection with the one you loved.

A sudden gust of wind extinguished the lone candle, plunging you into absolute darkness. Panic surged through your veins, but even in this black void, the planchette continued to move, etching out words that seemed to emanate from a place beyond the realm of the living. It was then you’d realised that in your panic, your hands had left the planchette, breaking your physical connection to the board, and yet it was moving now of its own accord; spelling out messages to you that were shrouded in darkness. The darkness hid the messages from you, but the deafening silence made sure you could hear every single scrape of the wood against the board.

The room seemed to pulse with a palpable energy, a presence that surrounded you, enveloping you in a web of otherworldly sensations. You realized, with a dawning sense of dread, that this connection you had forged was not just a bridge to the afterlife, but a gateway to something far more sinister, a realm where the line between the living and the dead blurred into an indistinguishable haze of terror and despair.

“I close the bridge!” You shouted, your voice trembling with fear. “I close the bridge. Goodbye.”

You forced the planchette to the goodbye in the bottom corner and ran for the lights. Your fingers fumbled in the darkness, searching desperately for the light switch. When your trembling hand finally found it, you flicked it on, and the room was once again bathed in an artificial glow. You squinted, your eyes struggling to adjust to the sudden brightness, and as the shadows receded, you realized there was nothing else in the room. Only you, surrounded by empty walls that seemed to close in on you, suffocating your already fragile spirit. But your eyes fell upon the board, the planchette still sat atop “goodbye” as though nothing was wrong - as if your feelings of dread were unfounded and childish, as if it was taunting you.

A sense of profound isolation settled over you, deeper than anything you had ever felt before. The stark emptiness of the room now felt like a reflection of the void within your own being, the absence of your beloved Terzo amplifying the desolation that threatened to engulf you. There was a hollowness that echoed through the air, a palpable absence that seemed to seep into your very bones, reminding you that you were utterly alone in your torment.

A sudden chill swept through the room, the hairs on your arms standing on end, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that something lingered in the shadows, something that watched and waited, biding its time. The light, once a source of reassurance, now seemed feeble, unable to dispel the encroaching darkness that threatened to swallow you whole. It was as if the very fabric of reality had shifted, revealing a sinister undercurrent that had always been there, just beyond the reach of your perception.

You realized then, in the harsh glare of the light, that the Ouija board had not brought you solace, but had opened a door to a darkness that threatened to swallow you whole; and as you stood there, surrounded by the emptiness of the room, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had invited something insidious into your life, something that hungered for more than just a fleeting connection with the world of the living.

In the subsequent days, the unsettling occurrences began to multiply, each one chipping away at the fragile facade of your sanity. Objects would shift from their original places, relocating themselves without any logical explanation. A book left on the table would inexplicably appear on the shelf, a photograph moved from the mantle to the bedside table. You knew you hadn’t done it, yet there was no one else in the confines of your home within the Ministry walls.

The air itself seemed to thicken with an otherworldly presence, a feeling that someone, or something, was always lurking just out of sight, watching your every move. Whispers, barely audible at first, began to weave through the stillness of the apartment that didn’t resemble your roommates in the slightest, indistinct murmurs that insinuated themselves into your thoughts, sowing seeds of doubt and fear. You strained to catch the words, but they remained just beyond the reach of comprehension, leaving you with a deep sense of foreboding.

Footsteps echoed through the empty corridors, faint but unmistakable, as if someone were pacing just beyond your line of vision. You would hear them in the dead of night, when sleep eluded you, or in the quiet hours of the morning when the world outside was cloaked in silence. Your heart would race as you threw back the covers, expecting to catch a glimpse of an intruder, but there was never anyone there, only the lingering echo of something that defied rational explanation.

Taps, like a Morse code from an unseen sender, would break the silence, their rhythmic pattern reverberating through the walls. They came at odd hours, disrupting the stillness, a persistent reminder that you were not alone, that there was an entity that defied the boundaries of the physical world, teasing and toying with your senses. You would rush to investigate, your pulse thundering in your ears, only to find empty rooms, devoid of life, devoid of any explanation for the inexplicable phenomena that haunted your waking hours.

As the days bled into nights, and the nights stretched into an endless cycle of unease, you found yourself teetering on the precipice of reason, questioning the very fabric of reality. The once-familiar spaces of your home had become a labyrinth of uncertainty, each creak, each whisper, a reminder that something beyond comprehension had taken root in your life, and it showed no signs of relenting.

One night, as the moon cast its pale glow through the window, you woke with a start, a prickling sensation crawling up your spine. Your gaze fell upon the figure standing at the foot of your bed, shrouded in shadows, yet unmistakably possessing the same contours, the same silhouette as your beloved Terzo. Your heart quickened with a surge of hope and desperation, but as your vision adjusted to the dim light, a sinking dread replaced the initial flicker of relief.

The figure exuded an aura of malevolence, an energy that seemed to twist and contort the familiar features into something twisted and sinister. The shape resembled Terzo, yet its essence felt foreign, an imposter donning the guise of your lost love, a specter that mocked the memory of the one you held dear. There was no distinctive features on his face - simply just a shadow of him watching you as you slept.

A sense of primal fear rooted you to the bed, rendering you incapable of movement, your voice trapped in your throat, stifled by the weight of the moment. You tried to convince yourself that it was a trick of the shadows, a manifestation of your own grief-stricken mind, but the palpable presence before you defied any rational explanation. It was as if a malevolent force had seized upon your deepest longing, your most profound sorrow, to manifest itself in the form of a distorted, twisted version of the one you yearned for.

As the figure lingered there, its gaze boring into your very soul, you sensed a wave of darkness emanating from it, tendrils of a presence that seemed to seep into the fabric of your being, infecting you with a terror that transcended the physical realm. The air grew colder, the room suffused with an oppressive weight that threatened to suffocate you, and you realized with a shudder that this entity, this phantom masquerading as Terzo, harbored intentions far more sinister than mere visitation.

You dared not speak, dared not move, as the figure loomed over you, its form shifting subtly, as if it reveled in your fear. It was a twisted reflection of the one you loved, a corrupted specter that had breached the boundaries of the afterlife, determined to torment you in ways that transcended the limits of mortal comprehension.

Despite every instinct screaming for you to remain still, to avoid provoking the sinister apparition, you couldn’t resist the primal urge to banish the darkness that threatened to consume you. With trembling hands, you fumbled for the switch, and as the room flooded with light, the menacing shadow dissipated like smoke in the wind, leaving behind only the faint echo of its chilling presence. Relief mingled with lingering dread, as you realized that the source of the terror was not just the unknown, but a darkness that dwelled within, a darkness that threatened to devour you whole.

You arrived to work the next morning, throwing yourself down on your chair in the office you shared with the new head of the church. Your body was exhausted beyond belief. Your lack of sleep had caught up with you, manifesting itself as dark circles around your eyes. Cardinal Copia looked at you, faux concern in his mismatched eyes, those very eyes boring into your soul to try and figure out the sickness plaguing you. “Is everything okay, Sorella?” He asked, his voice cautious.

The way you looked at him was deadly: the very epitome of ‘if looks could kill’. His presence was a stark reminder of the night that had claimed Terzo’s life, a cruel twist of fate that elevated this thing to a position that rightfully belonged to your beloved. The clutch of animosity wound tightly around your heart, each beat a reminder of the seething hatred that consumed you, wishing that it was him, not Terzo, who had met a gruesome end.

You forced yourself to endure his presence, the facade of civility barely concealing the churning storm of resentment that raged within. Every word, every gesture from him was a reminder of the irreparable loss, a wound that time could not heal. And as you bore the burden of his company, you couldn’t help but silently wish for a reversal of fates, for the one who was truly deserving of a fate so dire to be the one occupying the space that he callously usurped.

You sought comfort in his arms when you found Terzo’s blood spilling from his neck for no other reason than he was the closest person to you. You remember how long you rotted in your bed for after Terzo’s death. How you would sell your soul to any willing customer if it meant Terzo could come back and hold you in his strong, capable arms just one more time. If it meant you could get a proper goodbye.

The rage you felt when you had finally finished rotting was terrifying. It was if your body had been set ablaze by the very fires of Hell that had taken your beloved from you. For the first time in two weeks, you left your bed and stormed to Imperator’s door, intending on introducing her to the world of pain that she’d thrown you into. Luckily for her, she wasn’t there. But her office was.

The rage that had been simmering within you for so long finally erupted, surging through your veins like a torrential wave. You couldn’t contain the flood of emotions any longer, the injustice, the sorrow, the burning desire for retribution all gathering into an overwhelming, burning, red-hot inferno that propelled you into action. Without a second thought, you stormed into his Imperator’s office, the bitch who had been instrumental in orchestrating the events that led to Terzo’s tragic end.

You overturned her meticulously arranged desk, the clatter of papers and office supplies a symphony of your fury. The framed photographs that adorned her shelves met the same fate, crashing to the floor in a cacophony of shattered glass and splintered frames. You spared nothing in your path, fueled by a primal need to lash out at the source of your suffering, to make them feel even a fraction of the pain that had consumed you since that fateful day.

The very act of desecration, of defiling a space that represented the sanctity of another’s life, only served to stoke the flames of your vengeful rampage. You tore through the room with a fervor that bordered on madness, each item, each trinket, each cherished memory of a life you would never get back meeting a violent end at your hands. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the visceral release of the anguish that had festered within you, and you were determined to leave nothing unscathed in your wake.

Your punishment: removal from your job at the Ministry’s beautiful library and thrown into Copia’s cramped office space as his only personal assistant. As if she couldn’t twist the knife any further.

If Copia was the one who benefited from Terzo’s death, his sick and twisted mother was the one who orchestrated it with his waste-of-space father trailing behind like an ancient, lost child. Sister Imperatrix of the Ministry with the power of a Prime Mover - no - the power of a Papa. Ordering the execution of the only light in your world and the result was now sitting there in ridiculous paints reminiscent of a rat’s skull, in Papal robes that were magically whipped up in the short time between Terzo’s death and Copia’s concave where all cardinals voted for him with an overwhelming majority. You wondered how many strings Imperator had to pull in order to get her pathetic son into the top spot.

“Everything is fine.” You responded, curtly. You didn’t want to give him the time of day, especially now that you were severely sleep deprived.

“Is something bothering you?”

Your eyes that had finally drifted from his face turned back to his, head turning slowly as if to ask him if he was serious. The look on his face told you that he was. “I said I’m fine.”

“That’s no way to speak to the head of our church, is it, Sorella?” A woman’s voice asked from the door. Imperator.

You saw red. “Oh I can get much, much worse.” You stood from your desk, raging eyes fixated on the face you were so desperate to rearrange. “Would you like a demonstration?”

Copia stood, too. He rushed to your side and put his hands on your shoulders. “S-Sorella, please. Calm down.”

You shook him off. “Get the fuck off of me!”

“Ghouls!” Imperator shouted.

“No, Sorella, please! She’s still grieving.” Copia pleaded. “Leave her be.”

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me!” You shouted. “How dare you stand there barking orders when this was never meant to be your position in the first place!?”

You saw two Ghouls enter from the second room, one of them belonged to Terzo. The bastard even took one of his Ghouls! The other one was new, fresh out of training.

Imperator, “Escort Sorella ____ to-”

Copia interjected. “The library! I… I have a l-list of books for you to get for me, Sorella.” He rummaged through the drawer of his desk frantically looking for a small piece of paper with his list. He handed it to you, almost flinching at your gaze, but his eyes were pleading with you to obey. “Please, Sorella. It’s urgent.”

You snatched the piece of paper out of his hand and sighed sharply. “Fine.” You stormed passed him and headed straight for Imperator, barging passed her and smacking your shoulder against hers. “Move.” You snapped, before slamming Copia’s office door.

The library breathed with an eerie stillness that seemed to whisper of secrets long forgotten. As you stepped through the labyrinth of towering bookshelves, the soft shuffle of your footsteps echoed like a solemn requiem, the silence wrapping around you like a suffocating shroud. A sense of foreboding settled in your bones, each creak of the floorboards beneath your feet a sinister murmur that taunted your senses. The subtle flicker of the overhead lights cast grotesque shadows along the rows of books, distorting the familiar into monstrous silhouettes that seemed to leer at you from the corners of your vision.

Amidst the oppressive silence, a faint murmur began to weave through the air, distant whispers that curled and twisted like wisps of smoke, reaching out from the fringes of your perception. You strained to discern the words, but they remained just beyond the threshold of your understanding, an indistinct sound that hinted at a presence lingering just beyond the realm of the living. Your heart quickened, a drumbeat of mounting apprehension, as you tried to dismiss the inexplicable sounds as mere figments of an overactive imagination. But as you continued to gather the books, the whispering seemed to grow more insistent, more insidious, as if the very walls of the library were conspiring to confound your senses.

A chill slithered down your spine, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end as you became acutely aware of a gaze fixed upon you, unseen yet palpable, like a weight pressing down from above. You turned, your breath catching in your throat, and there, mere inches away, stood the ghostly apparition of Terzo. His form wavered in the dim light, a translucent specter suspended between the worlds of the living and the dead. His eyes, hollow sockets that seemed to bore into the depths of your soul, emanated a sorrow so profound it threatened to swallow you whole. A blood-curdling scream tore from your lips, reverberating through the library’s cavernous expanse, as the books slipped from your grasp, their clattering descent a discordant symphony to the nightmarish encounter that had shattered the illusion of normalcy, plunging you into the unrelenting grip of a horror that defied reason and reality. You fell to the floor yourself, staring up in horror at the sight.

In that fleeting moment, the veil of horror that had enveloped the encounter seemed to unravel, revealing a facade that had concealed a prank orchestrated by the mischievous spirit. The shadows that had loomed large in the corners of the room now appeared benign, mere illusions conjured by Terzo’s playful spirit. The whispers that had chilled your spine with their ghostly murmurings now sounded like echoes of a shared joke, a spectral trickster reveling in the intricacies of his spectral jest.

You sat there, shaken and bewildered, as the ghostly apparition of your beloved Terzo exuded an air of lighthearted amusement, the weight of the previous horrors lifting with each flicker of his ghostly form. His eyes, once filled with a haunting sorrow, now sparkled with an impish delight that hinted at the lingering essence of his vibrant personality. It was as if he had found a way to bridge the gap between the worlds, to offer you a glimpse of his enduring spirit, and he used it to fuck with you.

“Sorella!” A voice sounded behind you, making you turn to look at the Sibling, looking on at you in concern. They reached out to you. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened?”

“I-I’m fine, thank you. I just-” You turned to look at where Terzo was standing to find that he’d disappeared again. “Lost my balance. Heavy books and all.”

“Here, let’s get you up.” The sibling pulled you to your feet and helped straighten your habit, before bending to pick up your books for you. You didn’t recognise them from when you worked here, they must have been your replacement. All the while, you stood there, dumbfounded by your encounter with Terzo’s apparition, apprehensive to fully believe what you’d just seen. It must be the grief causing you to hallucinate.

“Are you okay?” They asked once they saw the look on your face. “You look exhausted.”

“I’m fine, thanks. Just having trouble sleeping, is all. Thanks.” You took the pile of books off them and went to walk away.

“Listen, people talk… and they’re talking a lot about you, these days. The other librarians - well, they filled me in on what I missed before I was hired here. I remember seeing your face every time I came in here and, well, wondered where you went. They told me everything. I… I’m sorry to hear about Papa Terzo. It hurt us all to hear of his passing, but you were much closer to him than the rest of us.”

“I don’t want to be rude, but I really need to get these back to the Cardinal.”

They nodded. “Just, if you need a friend, I’m always about and available for a listen. And we have loads of books on grief… if you need them.”

You nodded awkwardly. The relationship you shared with Terzo was particularly unusual for a Sibling of Sin and a Papa, especially when that Sibling wasn’t the Papa’s Prime Mover. You cast your mind back to the very start of your relationship, how you instantly became famous for being Terzo’s favourite whore: the one to lock down the fuck boy. Now you were his grieving widow in the eyes of the Ministry, and their looks of pity as you passed them in the corridor didn’t escape you. Nor did their sad, little whispers commenting on your demeanor, or appearance. Though this Sibling seemed kind, there was no doubt in your mind that you’d be unable to trust them as far as you could throw them. Confide in them and your business would be all round the Ministry by tea time. Instead, you thanked them for their kindness, gathered the remainder of your books and threw them on Copia’s desk, announcing to him that you’d be taking the rest of the day off. Any protests he had died on his tongue before he had the chance to utter the words. Despite his authority over the church now, he was still as cowardly as he used to be.

As you stepped through the threshold of your home, the faintest hint of Terzo’s cologne wafted through the air, infusing the space with a familiar warmth that enveloped you like a long-awaited embrace. The fragrance, a delicate blend of musk, cedar, and coffee, carried with it a sense of comfort, a poignant reminder of the one you had loved and lost. It wrapped around you like a soothing blanket, dispelling the remnants of fear and uncertainty that had clung to you since the spectral encounter at the library.

Each inhalation brought forth a flood of memories, of moments shared and cherished, of laughter and tenderness that lingered in the very fabric of your being. It was as if Terzo’s essence had found its way back to you, a gentle presence that sought to reassure you, to offer solace in the wake of the day’s unsettling events. The scent, once a haunting reminder of his absence. Tears welled in your eyes the moment the door closed, and you collapsed onto the floor, sobbing into your hands until a headache formed. Exhausted and emotionally spent, you eventually fell into a fitful sleep right there, at the entrance of your home, the cold floor beneath you a stark reminder of the emptiness that now pervaded your life.

As you stirred back to consciousness, the darkness that surrounded you seemed to press in closer, enveloping you in a shroud of impenetrable blackness. You had no idea how long you’d been asleep for, but you recognised the familiar ache in your back from hours spent in an uncomfortable position, and the moonlight shining through the window gave you an indication. You’d been dead to the world for a while. Despite the ache, you couldn’t bring yourself to move, remaining parallel to the floor in your misery.

A sense of palpable presence lingered in the room, an intangible weight that settled upon your consciousness, evoking a feeling of being watched, yet not with the malevolence that had haunted your previous encounters. Instead, it carried an air of quiet companionship, a spectral reassurance that you were not alone in your moment of vulnerability.

Though the shadows obscured the source of the presence, you felt an inexplicable warmth, a gentle energy that seemed to radiate from the very air around you. It was as if a benevolent spirit had taken residence in the room, offering a silent solace in the wake of your ceaseless mourning. In the stillness of the night, you found a strange comfort in the notion that Terzo’s spirit, in whatever form it had taken, lingered close, a silent guardian watching over you in the darkest hours of your grief.

The weight of the encounter at the library and the haunting scent of his cologne now seemed to fade into the background, replaced by a sense of peace that settled within the quiet space between heartbeats. It was a moment of communion with the unknown, a shared understanding that transcended the limitations of the mortal realm, offering a glimmer of solace in the infinite expanse of your sorrow.

In the stillness of the night, with the enigmatic presence as your silent witness, you allowed yourself to surrender to the gentle embrace of sleep once more, secure in the knowledge that even in the absence of the tangible, the spirit of Terzo would continue to watch over you, a silent sentinel standing guard over the shattered fragments of your grieving heart.

The sensation of a gentle touch, a warm pressure on your shoulder, stirred your emotions back up, more tears beginning to form in your eyes. In the darkness, you could almost see Terzo sitting beside you, his presence a soothing balm to the ache that had settled deep within your soul. His hand, though insubstantial, carried with it an unmistakable tenderness, a gesture of comfort that transcended the confines of the physical world.

That hand travelled from your shoulder, tickling your bicep and holding onto your hip as he so often did when you lay in bed together, naked and exhausted from a night full of passion. His scent, as it did then, enveloped you entirely now. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel him. “Why did you scare me?” You asked.

As the gentle spectral touch of Terzo’s hand gradually dissipated, a newfound sense of courage welled within you, buoyed by the lingering reassurance of his presence. The memory of the Ouija board, once a source of trepidation in the wake of recent spectral encounters, now resurfaced with a renewed sense of purpose. Though the thought of delving into the ethereal realm had initially filled you with a sense of dread, you now felt a resolute determination to connect with Terzo once more, to bridge the gap between the living and the departed in a bid to seek solace and understanding.

With a steady resolve, you retrieved the Ouija board from its place, the weight of its wooden surface a tangible reminder of the mysteries that lay beyond the veil of the known world. You positioned it before you, the letters and numbers now aglow with a faint, otherworldly luminescence. The planchette, a conduit to the realm of spirits, beckoned to you, and you placed your fingertips upon its smooth surface, ready to invite Terzo’s spirit into the sacred space between the living and the dead.

The room seemed to hum with a quiet energy, the air charged with an anticipation that transcended the physical realm. You closed your eyes, allowing your thoughts to coalesce around the memory of Terzo, your love for him pulsing through every fiber of your being. With each deliberate movement of the planchette, you sought to establish a connection, to bridge the gap that separated you, to invite his spirit to commune with you once more. In the hushed stillness of the night, you whispered his name, the sound carrying on the breath of a fervent prayer, a fervent plea to transcend the boundaries of mortality and find a semblance of peace in the communion of spirits. You lit candles, and called out to him.“Terzo?”

Anticipation coursed through you as the planchette stirred beneath your fingertips, its smooth surface gliding across the letters etched onto the Ouija board. The movement was deliberate, purposeful, as if guided by an unseen force that resonated with the very essence of Terzo’s spirit. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart hammering with a mixture of trepidation and awe, as the planchette continued its mysterious journey across the board.

Yes.

“Is this actually you?”

More movement, only to bring you back to the same word: Yes.

“If this is you, then tell me something only you would know. When did you first realise you loved me?”

O-B-S-E-R-V-A-T-O-R-Y.

The Ministry prided itself on knowledge and spared no expense when it was being built all those millennia ago. The library itself was a stunning space, and one of your favourite locations to be in, but the observatory was next level. The room was circular and made of white marble, with Italian columns spaced equidistant between the large wall high windows. There was a short ledge between the walls and the perfectly domed glass ceiling for structural reasons, but that was also covered in long, rectangular windows so more light could get in. There was an arched door on the other end of the room that led out to the balcony, which allowed for complete unobstructed stargazing if one so wished. On the other side of the room, right near the entrance was a white, leather, curved sofa that extended the length of the wall, with desks on wheels that allowed for extra work space.

Terzo caught you during one of your shifts, laying on the wooden ground with your ankles crossed and your hands resting on your stomach. A pillow was beneath you head yet your eyes were open. You were taking a break and had come to bask in the sunset. He’d opened the door quietly so as not to disturb you and continued to watch you for a few more seconds before he spoke. “Ah, Sorella. We don’t pay you to sleep on the job.” Because of how empty the room was, his voice echoed a little giving it more power than he intended.

The sound of his voice scared you and you sat up sharply, turning your head quickly before you locked eyes with him. There was panic reflected there, like you’d been caught misbehaving by Satan himself - but you’d essentially been caught by your boss’ boss’ boss slacking. You stood quickly. “I’m so sorry, Papa! I was just taking a quick break.”

He laughed at you, not cruelly, just because you were cute. “Va bene. You looked like you were having a great time, sì?”

“Sì.”

“Dimmi i tuoi pensieri.”

“Hm?”

He chuckled softly. “The Italian lessons are going well, I see.”

“I start tomorrow.”

“Tell me your thoughts.”

You sighed and looked back at the sunset, but he continued looking at you. “Just having one of those moments where you stop and take stock and appreciate what you have. Italian sunsets are something else, aren’t they?”

No words were needed at this moment, just a soft noise of agreement. He hadn’t realised how quiet the room was until you looked back at him, and your eyes met. In the light of the sunset you were truly breathtaking. He shook his head and took a small step away from you, pulling himself out of whatever spell you’d bewitched him with. But it didn’t matter how much he tried to deny it, he was falling head over heels in love with you.

It really was him. A sense of frustration washed over you. “Why the fuck did you scare me like that?”

F-U-N-N-Y.

“Fuck you!”

S-U-R-E.

You rolled your eyes. This was a typical Terzo conversation, and usually it would end with him on your body, or as he would prefer, inside it. “Nice try, dipshit. You’re dead. That wouldn’t work.” Your final sentence took on a sombre tone, your excitement washing away and replacing it with sadness. Your brain had forgotten that little detail all too quickly, and the reality was about to come crashing down around you. The sound of the planchette moving distracted you, temporarily at least.

W-A-I-T.

“Wait? Wait for what?”

Nothing.

“Terzo? Wait for what?”

You waited for a little while longer, trying desperately to regain the connection you just had with him, but it had vanished. Terzo had disappeared.

In fact, he remained gone for three days. There was nothing. No cruel jumpscares, no smells, no sounds, no touches. Not a single thing from him. You left the board out just in case he wanted to talk to you while you were at home, but the planchette only moved at your touch and not his. The cold shoulder hit you like a shock to your system. Finally, after weeks of being without him, you’d made contact with him. For days he’d been around you - even if it was at the expense of your sanity. And now all of a sudden there was nothing - it felt like you’d been thrown into ice cold water and left to fend for yourself.

But Terzo said wait. And so, wait you would.

This was your first Black Mass since Terzo’s execution, and so it felt weird sitting in the large chapel of the Ministry after so many weeks away. Of course, as you expected, all eyes were on you as soon as you walked in, the congregation whispering to each other to spread the news of your arrival like wildfire. In order to keep yourself as private as possible, you chose to sit in the back row, and as more and more Siblings and the Ghouls of previous Papas filed in, you realised they all didn’t want to sit beside you… the exception being Terzo’s Ghouls,who had also suffered a great loss.

Moss threw himself on the pew next to you, gripping onto your hand like a friend would. You weren’t sure if you could consider Terzo’s Ghouls your friends, but it was nice to have a familiar face. “It’s good to see you here today.” He said, softly.

You nodded. “It’s good to see you too. I didn’t want to be here today. I wasn’t sure if I ever wanted to come back.”

“Small steps. Papa would hate for you to become a recluse.” He squeezed your hand in an attempt to comfort you further, and encourage you to keep this up. “This is already a huge step. You should be proud of yourself.”

“Thanks, Moss.”

The entrance of the Clergy Officials, garbed in their varied black and red regalia, sent a ripple of apprehension through the congregation, marking the imminent commencement of the Mass. Everyone stood out of respect, but you and the other Ghouls remained seated in protest of the Clergy’s actions thus far. Stream had explained it to you a while ago: during the mourning period, they would remain seated. You observed with a simmering contempt as these figures, each a pillar of the dark hierarchy, took their seats, their presence casting a formal cloud over the gathered worshippers. Their eyes, shrouded by the dark recesses of their Cardinal makeup, seemed to linger with an unsettling scrutiny, as if they could discern the innermost secrets of those in attendance.

Following closely behind the officials, with an air of regal authority, came the figures you despised the most: Copia’s parents, Sister Imperator and the idiotic Papa Nihil. Their commanding presence exuded an aura of foreboding power, their very essence a testament to the malevolent legacy that had entrenched itself within the heart of the Church. The smirk etched across Sister Imperator’s face as her gaze met yours sent a chill down your spine, the shit-eating expression on her face threatening to engulf you in a suffocating shroud of dread. She was so sure she’d won whatever war she had fought; she was so sure she was invincible. You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks, a potent mixture of anger and indignation boiling within you, demanding release in the face of her insidious mockery. The weight of her disdainful gaze seemed to sear into your very soul, a silent reminder of the hierarchy of darkness that ruled over the congregation.

Beside you, Moss, sensing the uproar of emotions raging within you, placed a reassuring hand on your arm, his touch anchoring you to the present moment. His silent gesture of solidarity implored you to remain composed, to resist the urge to confront the Imperator, whose every calculated move seemed designed to provoke and unsettle.

And then, with a quick stride, Cardinal Copia entered the hall, his visage an unsettling blend of awkwardness and authority, as though he had to keep reminding himself of his position. As he ascended the dais to lead the congregation in the unholy proceedings, you felt a surge of revulsion, a potent mixture of hatred and disdain directed at the figure who now wielded power in the name of the malevolent forces that governed the realm of darkness, and his lineage who had taken a comfortable seat on the wooden pews of the front row.

Copia had always seemed somewhat pathetic to you, a character whose uncertainty and timidity had once been palpable, but it appeared that he had undergone a transformation of sorts, now imbued with a newfound confidence that emanated from his position as the leader of the dark congregation. He was introverted and not conventionally attractive, which meant many members of the Ministry had it out for him. Rumours about him spread like wildfire, and all of them were more unbelievable and cruel than the last. Before all of this, you refused to believe them, and couldn’t understand where they came from. But now? Now you’d believe them just to spite him. Given how much everyone loved Papa Terzo, no one could imagine him being deposed by… well… a Cardinal who didn’t really have any friends. He often stumbled over his words and spoke quietly, had terrible posture and a gaze that always lingered for moments too long. A wallflower tasked with taking command of a congregation. He never should have stood a chance, yet there he was, making speeches and reading texts, shunning Catholicism for its evils while he was speaking with the voice of hypocrisy.

The congregation, an eclectic mix of followers, now hung on Copia’s every, quiet, word, their devotion to the sinister doctrines palpable in the eerie silence that pervaded the hall. As he intoned incantations and recited dark liturgy, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of unease, a discomfort that mingled with your disdain for the man who had once been a mere annoyance but now held a position of dark power.

A shiver coursed down your spine as the sensation of a presence lingering behind you tugged at the edges of your awareness. With a mounting sense of anticipation, you slowly pivoted to steal a glance over your shoulder, half-expecting to find the spectral form of Terzo standing there, his gaze fixed upon you with a reassuring warmth. However, to your disquieting realization, there was no one there, no discernible figure or apparition to account for the palpable energy that seemed to permeate the very air around you.

As you turned back to face the front once more, you carried with you the unreal comfort of Terzo’s spiritual presence. The mysterious energy of the room seemed to shift, imbued with a faint glimmer of hope that defied the darkness that threatened to consume it. You felt the hairs on your body stand on end, electrified by the energy now surrounding you. A weight appeared on your shoulders, not too heavy to burden, but heavy enough to remind you that he was there. You felt feather light touches on your bicep as Terzo’s scent filled your mind and clouded your senses, soft grazes against the sensitive part of your neck - a favourite spot for Terzo when he was alive, he loved to hear you gasp.

The gasp that left your body at that moment was loud enough to disturb the people around you, causing them to turn and look at you in alarm or concern. You nodded and mouthed a silent apology to appease them, but Moss’ eyes still lingered. He said nothing, but you could see that a question was bubbling in his throat. Meanwhile, yours had the ghostly feeling of Terzo’s lips pressed against the skin, tormenting you in front of all the Siblings. This would usually be the part of the proceedings where he’d whisper sweet nothings in your ear, remind you that you needed to be silent or people would suspect something. But you knew him well enough to know he’d claim you in front of the entire congregation if he saw fit to do so. Lucifer, how you wished you could hear him right now.

The feeling on your bicep ended, only to be replaced by fingers pawing at your clothed clitoris, rubbing deftly over the fabric simply to torment you and tease you. You released another gasp, this time repressed enough to disturb only Moss, who was now staring at you intensely. Your toes pressed against the marble floor to keep yourself sitting upright as your thick thighs parted involuntarily, granting better access to Terzo’s phantasmal fingers. Terzo, of course, took advantage of this - you could almost feel the rumbling of his chest as he chuckled at you for being so desperate for him, during Mass no less.

The fabric of your panties never moved or shifted, visually it was as if nothing was wrong, but you felt Terzo’s fingers much more solidly on your clit, as if he’d moved the fabric to the side and was now making direct contact with the bundle of nerves, set alight for the first time in weeks. He applied more pressure with each circle he rubbed into your folds, before you felt his fingers dip inside you.

You were so wet and ready for him, and despite him beginning with two fingers, your body was feeling no pain. There was the familiar stretch that you loved, but none of the delicious bite that accompanied it. Your mouth fell open with the unbridled pleasure only his fingers could bring, with the way they tapped upwards immediately and hit against your g-spot in a way that almost had you screaming out loud if it wasn’t for your hands against your mouth, muffling your cries to absolute silence.

“Sister,” Moss whispered from beside you, “are you okay?”

You simply nodded in response, not trusting your voice to answer for you. The hand that wasn’t clasped against your mouth flew to Moss’ open hand and began to squeeze, searching for comfort. Your hips had shifted, pressing your covered clit against the wooden pew, gently rocking them back and forth and rubbing yourself against it for the extra stimulation. To Moss, it just looked like you were in pain. He didn’t see the way your nipples were erect and rubbing against the lace of your bra, and he certainly couldn’t hear the way your wet cunt was succumbing to Terzo’s fingers, ebbing you ever closer to an intense orgasm at the back of Black Mass, your fingernails digging into the meat of Moss’ hand.

Knowing that you hadn’t orgasmed in so long, and knowing what Terzo’s fingers were capable of, apparently even in death, you knew that what was building inside of you was going to explode at any given time, and it would overtake your entire body. You had to go. You had to leave before he made you cum.

“I h-have to g-go!” You whispered to Moss, straightening yourself up and quietly running out of the Church. In your haste to escape, you didn’t notice the way Moss and the other Ghouls were staring at you - and you certainly had no idea that Copia had witnessed your escape.

The sunlight glared onto your face as you made your getaway, looking around the courtyard frantically for shelter or somewhere you could cool off. Terzo’s fingers had retracted from your cunt, but you could still feel him on your body. He wasn’t finished with you yet. Ideally, you’d make your way back to your home and deal with this there, but as you stood outside trying to force your clouded brain to make a plan, you could feel Terzo’s body pressed against yours, his hands running all over your soft body, grabbing at you as he saw fit. He pulled at the fat of your hips, squeezed your pillowy breasts, rubbed your hidden nipples between his fingers as he groped you for his own pleasure -and perhaps yours. Your body felt like it was on fire wherever his touches landed.

You just let your feet carry you round the back of the Church to the quiet gardens. This would do - it would have to. You felt Terzo’s hands back on your body, pushing against your shoulders and pinning you against a nearby tree. You still couldn’t see him - you had no idea where he was or what he was planning as his hands disappeared. That was until you felt extra wetness press against your panties. His tongue. Oh, fuck, his tongue. It laved over the gusset of your panties, savouring the taste of your wetness and rubbing you over and over again. Your panties fit you perfectly, but in this moment, in this desperation with the feeling of Hellfire burning your entire body to a crisp, it felt like too much. They needed to be off of you; and so, in a frantic movement, you pulled them off your body and threw them somewhere onto the grass, leaning back against the tree and spreading yourself open for your spectral lover, who dove back into your folds like a man starved. He began roughly licking and sucking on your clit as your hips bucked wantonly against his ghostly face, providing you with as much stimulation as he could to get you to climax as quickly as possible. He seemed just as needy as you.

Your hands were itching to tangle in his locks, desperate to tug on the black strands and push his face into your cunt. You needed to ride his face and take what you needed from his tongue, but there was nothing to see - nothing to grab. You needed to grab something. So, you pulled your habit up over your breasts, exposing your voluptuous body to the elements and any lucky passerby, and pulled and tugged at your nipples through your bra, whining at the sensitivity. Your moans after that fell naturally, easily, just as they always did whenever Terzo was in-between your thighs.

“Fuck, Papa! Just like that. Please.” You begged to the air, pulling at yourself hard. “I’m so fucking close, Papa! Don’t stop, please don’t stop. Oh, fuck!”

You felt his mouth suction against you harder, the vibrations of an unheard growl shocking you and making you scream a little louder. It felt incredible to have his magical tongue lavish you in pleasure once more - almost intoxicating. You needed this. You needed him. You were so close. Just a little more - just a little longer.

Yes.

Yes!

With one final suck of his mouth on your clit, and a particularly hard tug from your fingers, your orgasm struck you, hitting you like a freight train and knocking the wind out of you. Your lungs burned with the need for oxygen, but your entire body cramped and froze as your orgasm took control, filling you with pleasure that started at your cunt and ran all the way through your body, nerve-endings screaming at the exertion, and cum oozing out of your cunt and running down your thighs as the majority of it flooded the ground and the tree’s exposed roots beneath you.

When your orgasm subsided, you were exhausted. It had been so long since you had one, let alone one of that strength. It was in the haze, you’d realised what had just happened. You realised that your cum was dripping down your legs and that your entire body was exposed. You realised that you were alone. How you’d kill to have Terzo’s arms wrapped around you right now, to tell you how good you’d been for him, to tell you how much he loved you as he always did when you were recovering from his onslaught. Before you had the chance to break down against the tree you’d just been pinned to, you picked up your panties from the grass and trudged all the way back across the Ministry’s grounds, knees like jelly, and threw yourself on your bed once you arrived home.

In the days that followed the unsettling encounter during the Black Mass, the memory of Terzo’s spectral presence lingered like a ghostly echo, a haunting reminder of the unbelievable nature of his existence beyond the realms of the living. His touch haunted you as though he was still there - the places his fingers and mouth had been still burned through to your soul, and had you touching yourself in the darkness of your room in an attempt to recreate that feeling. It didn’t matter how many times you orgasmed at the thought of him, how much your own fingers traced against your skin, it didn’t feel the same. It never did - even when he was alive and away on tour. The longing to see him, to feel the warmth of his touch, to hear the timbre of his voice, gnawed at the depths of your being, leaving an ache that seemed to seep into every crevice of your soul. The inability to bridge the gap between the real and the ethereal only served to magnify the sense of loss that pervaded your every waking moment, casting a shadow over even the most mundane of tasks.

Each passing day brought with it a relentless yearning, a longing that refused to be assuaged by the fleeting memories and spectral encounters that punctuated the fabric of your existence. The knowledge that Terzo’s spirit lingered just beyond the veil of perception served as a bittersweet solace, a faint glimmer of hope in the vast expanse of grief and longing that threatened to consume you whole. Yet, the inability to fully connect with his essence, to share in the tangible manifestations of his love and presence, left you feeling adrift in a world that seemed to have lost its vibrancy and meaning.

As you navigated the mundane rhythms of daily life, the ache of his absence remained a constant companion, a silent echo of a love that transcended the limitations of mortality. The void that Terzo’s departure had left in your life seemed to expand with each passing day, a cavernous emptiness that defied the passage of time and the distractions of the outside world. In the silence of your solitude, you grappled with the enigmatic nature of existence, with the elusive threads that connected the realms of the living and the dead, and with the unyielding longing for a connection that surpassed the boundaries of life and death. There must be something you could do…

The library welcomed you with its familiar hush as you stepped through its hallowed doors, seeking respite from the ceaseless agitation of your own thoughts. The soft rustle of pages turning and the faint murmur of distant conversations enveloped you, offering a semblance of comfort in the labyrinth of towering bookshelves that lined the expansive halls. With a determined resolve, you navigated the aisles, the scent of aging paper and polished wood a soothing balm to the turbulence that churned within your restless soul.

As you perused the countless volumes that adorned the shelves, your fingers traced the spines of books that promised insights into the enigmatic realms of the afterlife and the mysteries that veiled the boundaries between the living and the dead. You delved into the intricate narratives of spiritual encounters and spectral manifestations, each page offering a glimmer of understanding, a fragment of solace amidst the haunting echoes of your longing for Terzo’s presence.

Amidst the neatly organized rows of books, your fingers alighted upon a weathered tome that seemed to emanate an aura of ancient mystique. As you withdrew it from the shelf, the book revealed itself to be a relic of another era, its faded leather cover bearing the weight of countless years and the touch of countless curious readers. The rich, earthy scent of aged parchment and ink enveloped you, infusing the air with a sense of timelessness that seemed to transcend the confines of the library’s walls.

The cover, weathered and worn with the passage of time, bore intricate embossments of ethereal figures and swirling mists, hinting at the enigmatic knowledge that lay within its pages. Traces of gold leaf, faded but still resplendent, adorned the edges of the cover, their faint glimmer serving as a silent testament to the book’s storied past and the wisdom it held. Your fingertips traced the embossed grooves, the texture of the leather yielding beneath your touch, as if imparting a tangible connection to the ancient mysteries that the book sought to unveil.

As you dared to open its timeworn pages, the delicate rustle of aged paper echoed through the air, each turn revealing a tapestry of meticulously inked illustrations and intricate script that danced across the parchment. The words, etched with a precision that spoke of a bygone era, seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy, their meaning transcending the confines of language and time. The sepia-toned illustrations, rendered with a meticulous hand, depicted ghostly apparitions in various states of ethereal existence, their forms wreathed in shadow and light, their spectral presence an enigmatic blend of the tangible and the intangible.

The weight of the book in your hands seemed to grow heavier, as if bearing the weight of the knowledge it contained, the essence of countless narratives that had woven themselves into the fabric of its pages.

As you delved deeper into the pages of the ancient tome, your eyes alighted upon a ritual that promised to bridge the realms of the living and the dead, to summon forth the spectral essence of those who had departed from the mortal plane. The words, etched with an archaic elegance, seemed to beckon to you from the faded parchment, offering a glimmer of hope in the face of your relentless longing for Terzo’s presence. With each line that you perused, a sense of anticipation bloomed within you, a fervent desire to transcend the boundaries of mortality and connect with his spirit once more, even if only for a fleeting moment.

The ritual, intricately detailed with symbols and incantations, unfolded before you like a map to the ethereal realm, its instructions offering a pathway to channel the energies of the unknown and summon forth the ghostly apparition of your beloved. Your fingers traced the ancient script, committing the intricate steps to memory, each syllable resonating within the depths of your consciousness, a whispered promise of reunion and communion with the spirit that had once been your guiding light.

In the back of your mind, you remembered the Sibling you encountered the last time you were here and how they reminded you that people talk. You knew that whoever was at the front desk would talk about how you’d borrowed a book about apparitions and ghostly rituals. So, you did the next best thing: you took a series of photos for each of the pages, allowing you to keep the information close to you and not get caught in the process.

You made your way from the sanctum of knowledge that was the library, the weight of anticipation hung heavy in the air, driving you forward on your quest to reunite with Terzo’s spirit, even if only for a fleeting moment. The path to the Ministry’s ritual supply shop unfolded before you, each step a testament to your unwavering determination to see the ritual through to its completion. The bustling corridors and busy hallways seemed to blur into the periphery of your consciousness as your mind remained fixated on the sacred task that lay ahead.

Upon arriving at the ritual supply shop, the air seemed to thicken with a palpable sense of mystique, as if the very atmosphere resonated with the esoteric energies that permeated the space. The shop, adorned with an eclectic array of mystical artifacts and arcane paraphernalia, offered a glimpse into a world that existed beyond the confines of the mundane. The soft flicker of black candles cast an ethereal glow, while the sight of crimson paint, rich and vibrant, beckoned to you with a silent promise of the ritual’s imminent fruition.

With a focused determination, you gathered the necessary materials, each item a vital component in the intricate dance of summoning that you sought to perform. The vibrant red paint, symbolizing the blood that pulsed through the veins of life, and the stark black candles, emblematic of the shadows that cloaked the realms of the unknown, spoke to the potent energies that the ritual sought to harness. Each item you procured held within it the potential to bridge the chasm between the worlds, to beckon forth the spirit that had eluded your grasp, to offer a glimpse of solace in the enigmatic communion that lay beyond the boundaries of mortal comprehension.

With the ritual supplies in hand, you felt the weight of the imminent encounter with Terzo’s spirit settle upon your shoulders, a burden that mingled with the fervent hope that guided your every step. The journey back to the confines of your abode seemed to pass in a blur, as your thoughts remained steadfastly fixed on the ritual that now loomed on the horizon, promising to unveil the secrets that lay veiled between the realms of the living and the dead. You were going to see him tonight - you’d make sure of it.

As the cloak of night enveloped the world outside, casting the surroundings into an eerie shroud of darkness, you stood within the designated room, a place now transformed into a sanctum of otherworldly intent. The air seemed to thrum with an otherworldly energy, charged with the anticipation of the ritual that was about to unfold. With a steady hand, you traced the intricate lines of the Satanic pentagram in vivid red upon the floor, each stroke a deliberate invocation of the esoteric forces that lay dormant within the confines of the symbol. The pentagram, a testament to the unyielding power of the occult, now bore the weight of the ritual’s purpose, serving as a conduit between the realms that sought to unite the living with the departed.

At each point of the pentagram, you placed the black candles, their flames flickering with an ethereal luminescence that cast dancing shadows across the room. The soft glow of their light lent an otherworldly aura to the space, imbuing the ritual with a solemn reverence that transcended the mere act of conjuration. As you knelt at the center of the pentagram, a profound sense of purpose enveloped you, the incantation poised on the tip of your tongue, ready to breathe life into the ancient words that had beckoned forth spirits for eons.

With a voice that quivered with a potent blend of determination and trepidation, you began to intone the incantation, each syllable a whispered invocation that resonated with the pulsing energy of the room. The words, spoken with a fervent reverence, seemed to weave themselves into the very fabric of the air, each verse carrying the weight of ancient wisdom and the fervent desire to bridge the gap between the worlds. In the flickering light of the candles and the crimson hue of the pentagram, you channeled the essence of your longing, the fervent plea to summon forth Terzo’s spirit, to invite him into the sacred space that now pulsed with the promise of communion between the realms of the living and the dead.

As the final syllables of the incantation lingered in the air, a profound stillness descended upon the room, punctuated only by the soft flicker of the black candles and the radiant glow of the pentagram that now seemed to hum with an otherworldly energy. And then, amidst the charged silence, the figure of Terzo appeared within the confines of the sacred circle, his form transparent and wreathed in a soft, ethereal blue aura that pulsed with the rhythm of the spirit realm. His presence, though you were unable to touch him, cast a spectral light upon the room, his essence a haunting blend of the familiar and the enigmatic.

You gazed upon him with a mixture of awe and longing, your senses heightened to the subtle nuances that marked his spectral manifestation. The transparency of his form, a mere echo of the physical solidity he once possessed, allowed you to see through him, to discern the faint outlines of the room beyond his spectral figure. Yet, in the ethereal light that bathed his essence, you found a familiarity that transcended the limitations of the physical world, a connection that pulsed with the enduring bond of love and longing that had persisted beyond the confines of mortality.

Though you couldn’t reach out to touch him, the echoes of his presence seemed to weave themselves into the very fabric of your being, his voice carrying on the subtle currents of the air, his gaze meeting yours with a silent reassurance that transcended the boundaries of the spectral plane. The scent of his cologne, now an intangible whisper that lingered in the space around you, evoked a potent wave of nostalgia and longing, intertwining with the enigmatic aura that surrounded his ghostly form.

You couldn’t touch him, but he could touch you. He saw the tears in your eyes and ran outside of the circle, hands cupping your cheeks and looking into your eyes. There was life in his despite his current form, much different to the last time you saw them. “Tesoro!” He breathed, throwing himself down to the floor to your height to offer you some comfort as you felt all of the emotions a person could possibly feel all at once.

You sobbed. Relief flooded your body along with the pain of the grief you’d felt for all this time. The accumulation of all the agonising days rolled into this one meeting, and the shattered pieces of your heart began to stick back together piece by piece, starting with when you saw him standing there just moments ago, and continuing passed the sound of his voice calling for you.

You felt his lips trace ghostly kisses all over your face, starting at your forehead and working all across the expanse of skin, even moving his hands to get to your cheeks. For once, his paints didn’t transfer onto your face as it rubbed against you - and there was something so sad in that; something so heartbreaking in the notion that it would only be your makeup you’d be washing off your body tonight, and not his too. That you wouldn’t hear him come into the bathroom and laugh at your complaints every time his black paint stuck to your cheek and stained it temporarily. You’d give anything to have that just one more time.

“I m-missed you so much!” You wept into his spectral clothes, but your tears dripped onto the floor. You felt his arms wrap around you, but your own hand slid through his body and rested on your own when you tried to grip his arm.

“Lo so, amore mio. I have been with you this whole time.”

“Why did th-they do that to you? I d-don’t understand.”

He looked at you with sadness in his eyes. “You won’t understand. You don’t know everything, yet.”

“Then please explain it to me.”

He sighed. “Non posso. It is not the right time, and I am not the right person to do it. But I need you to remember that my brothers and I were not the only victims here. Besides you, there is another who lives and suffers daily through no fault of their own.”

“What does that mean?”

He shushed you and kissed your forehead. “It doesn’t matter. Non pensarci. Just enjoy this moment while we can, hm? I cannot be here all night.”

You nodded, but cried again. “Did you feel any pain?”

“No, no, no, tesoro. Do not torture yourself with my death, especially not now.” He kissed your lips in an attempt to kiss away the grief. “I need you here with me, now, sì?”

You nodded.

He kissed you again. The kiss was soft, yet full of passion, dripping with the love and adoration he felt for you even in death. You longed to pull him closer, to deepen the kiss and show him just how much you missed him, but what you had would have to do.

Despite the tender moment, despite the sweetness you were experiencing in his presence, you needed something more - something stronger. He’d done it before, you craved him to do it again. You let out the faintest of whimpers as you kissed him, and he picked up on it immediately, deepening the kiss and pulling you flush against his spiritual body.

His hands, like before, began wandering over your body, roaming over your curves and caressing you sweetly, tentatively. He slowly moved forward on his knees, pushing you down onto the cold wooden floor and hovering above you, his lips still attached to yours. One hand propped him up, the other ran from your knee, up your thigh and rested on your hip, your legs parted out of habit to allow him to kneel in between them.

“Tesoro,” he whispered, breaking the kiss and allowing his lips to travel across your cheek, to that sensitive spot on your neck, “the only woman I ever loved. The angel amongst the devils. Even in death, I yearned for this moment.” He kissed your neck, revelling in your gasps and sighs. “Will you undress for me, amore mio?”

He pulled himself away from you and watched you stand, undressing yourself slowly for him. You looked at his eyes the whole time, but didn’t begrudge the fact that his eyes were travelling everywhere. He watched your hands unzip your habit, darkened and hooded eyes watching it pool at your feet. Your bra was removed next, Terzo’s mouth slightly agape and almost drooling at the sight of your breasts falling free of their confines. He groaned deeply, a noise coming from the back of his throat, so low it sounded like he was purring.

He loved your body more than anyone else did. He loved the plush softness of it, how it jiggled when you moved, even slightly. How even repositioning yourself on the couch could get him harder than anything else in the world, just because your thighs would splay against the cushions, and your tummy would jiggle with the force of you sitting down. There were so many times he wished he could paint, because he would have painted you over and over again like you were Michelangelo’s favourite subject. It saddened him to know that this would be the last time he would ever get to see you like this, but at least his soul could rest happily in Hell with Lucifer as this being his final memory.

When you removed your panties, Terzo groaned. “Oh, bella!” He bent at the waist, allowing his forehead to touch the ground, his hands slamming against the wood of the floor. What followed was a string of Italian sentences you had trouble discerning at your low-level, but the way he was talking made you believe whatever he said should be written in a book for the rest of time. He was worshipping you, the very ground you walked on, playfully in true Terzo fashion, but no less insincere. His reaction to seeing you completely bare for him had you giggling, your previous tears long gone. He got to his feet and charged over to you, cupping your face in his hands when he reached you and pulling you into a desperate kiss. “Come, lie down for me.”

Once he had you spread out for him on the floor, he lavished you in kisses again. His lips and his tongue ran wherever they could, savouring every inch of you until there was nothing left to be explored before finally settling on your cunt. He began gently licking and sucking on your clit as your hips bucked wantonly against his ghostly face, providing you with as much stimulation as he could to get you to your end. This time, he wasn’t rushing his work. This time he was making sure to appreciate you, dining on you like a 12-course experience where each bite was a culinary masterpiece - because you were a masterpiece.

Your hips bucked at the sensations he was bestowing upon you, hands still desperate to tangle in his hair and frustration clouding your mind when you realised you couldn’t.

This time, you could hear every single noise his mouth was making against your pussy, the suction, the sound of his saliva swiping against your sopping folds. He worked you like it was his job, hitting every single spot to have you singing for him, writhing beneath him, driving him crazy. In a desperate need to do something with your hands, you moved to your nipples again, pinching, pulling, adding to the onslaught that his mouth was putting your clit through. His hands were clutching onto your thighs, fingers digging into the plush skin there, but leaving no marks as much as you both wanted him to.

“Papa, I’m so close!”

He growled into your cunt, not wanting to stop and have you lose the feeling. You knew he wasn’t going to make you hold back - not this time. He wasn’t going to play with you, or torture you in the most delicious of ways, you both craved each other too much.

“Your tongue feels so good, Terzo! Fuck! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna-”

Your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave crashing against the rocks of a cliffside. One of your hands moved to your mouth and got caught beneath your teeth as you bit down, your body freezing with the intensity of it. Drool spilled from your open mouth, your eyes glazing over and rolling back into your head. Your hands tightened where they were, forcing you to bite down hard on your finger and pinching hard on your nipple. Your lungs refused to fill with air, and your back arched off the floor. Your mind became filled with dizziness from the way your body was convulsing as a result of the intensity, even your voice could no longer work.

As soon as your body relaxed, Terzo detached himself from your core and crawled up over your body, frantically kissing your lips when he reached them. “Always so good for me, hm?” Another kiss, this time his tongue entered your mouth. “Cumming so well on my tongue. Amore mio, I cannot wait.”

“I need you inside me. Quickly, please!”

Terzo nodded dumbly, his hand fiddling at his crotch. Seconds later, he pushed inside of you, stretching you out to make you fit him perfectly inside. You always did. You were always so perfect for him, made specifically for him. To ruin him, to strengthen him. And he was made for you, to offer you pleasure beyond your wildest fantasies, have you seeing stars as you cum around his cock. He fit inside you just right, always hitting your cervix in the most delicious of ways and dragging against your walls, making your body feel alive in the most primal of ways.

Usually, Terzo would wait for you to adjust to his size; but like with his fingers there was no pain with the stretch - no need for adjustment. So instead, when he didn’t see the familiar look on your face that told him everything he needed to know, he just began to move. The first thrust was a tender motion, but it was so strong you felt like you were going to pass out. Without a moment’s hesitation, your hands collided with the ground as your fingers searched for something solid to hold onto. Normally, you would go after his back. Terzo yearned to see the red lines in a mirror that represented your pleasure and to feel the scratch of your nails against his skin. The second felt exactly as good. The rhythmic yet soft movements of Terzo soon picked up speed, leaving your brain turning to mush and your lungs gasping for air. The third thrust had you rolling your eyes back.

The feeling got more and more intense the more he thrust. Your screams, which initially served as a release for your bliss, were no longer effective. As much as it was possible, your back arched off the ground to accommodate him deeper inside of you. Now that his hips were moving more quickly, you were going crazy even more than before. You were completely oblivious to the way you appeared, how perfect you looked all red-faced and sweaty beneath him.

You were living artwork carved by Lucifer, made for pleasures beyond your wildest dreams. You belonged in his bed, lounging lazily as he spoiled you, worshipped you, gave you everything you could ever possibly want. Your body, all curvaceous and plump, jiggling beneath him with the force of his hips. Your thighs wobbling at the movements, your breasts, heavy and full, nipples begging to be played with and sucked into his mouth. His eyes enamoured by the way your tummy shook with the rest of your body, he could no longer resist. He bent down and placed kisses wherever he could: between the valley of your breasts, all over your chest, your sternum.

“Touch yourself for me, tesoro.” He told you, his voice shakey but gentle. “I want to watch you.”

He sat back on his knees and followed your hand as it moved downwards to your clit, thrusting hard when he heard your scream of sensitivity as your fingers made contact. Terzo knelt between your legs and let your hips buck to meet his movements. His gaze was fixed on your face, and the picture of you stretched out in front of him like his favourite meal made his cock twitch inside of you. He gripped your waist for leverage and watched your hand rubbing furiously at your clit, desperately trying to reach another orgasm. He bit his lip at the sight of you - you were so beautiful. You belonged to him; his perfect girl, laying there with her hand on her pussy and his cock slamming into her. It was almost too much to bear.

You had to cum first. You had to. There was no arguing. He needed you to cum again. “That’s it, tesoro. You look so beautiful right now. Taking me so well. Cazzo! You gotta cum, amore. I don’t know how much more I can take. You feel so good! Cum for me, tesoro!”

It didn’t take you long to do as he said, your second orgasm hitting you just as powerfully as the first. You screamed as your fingers moved faster against your clit in an attempt to keep up with both Terzo’s cock and your own orgasm, hips bucking to chase the pleasure. Though you were in the throes of your own orgasm, you fought with your own body to keep your eyes open and your brain focussed so you could watch Terzo reach his own. His hips thrusting erratically inside you, his brows furrowed, his eyes fixed on the way your cunt was creaming at the sensation, running down your body and gathering on the wood. His mind showed him images of the way your juices used to gather at the base of his cock when he would ravish you over and over again. It was that thought that had him orgasming, burying himself deep inside you as he came.

You were always enraptured by the face he made when he came; mouth hanging wide open, a dark look in his eyes that told you he was the only one who got to do this to you. That you belonged to him and no one else. His hands gripped onto both of your hips tightly, as though you’d try and run from him before he had the chance to finish.

When he finally did, and both of your bodies had finally stilled, you both remained where you were in silence. You allowed the quietness to bathe you both in an intimate moment where only your eyes connected as you calmed, savouring what you both knew would be your final moments together. He pulled out of you, making you both wince at the feeling. His borrowed time was coming to an end and you both knew it.

A lump formed in your throat again when you heard the sadness in his voice. “Would you dress yourself for me, tesoro?”

You nodded and slowly dressed again, this time the lethargy was your way of procrastinating. When you put your habit back on, he’d have to leave. When you were dressed and decent, he’d walk back into the pentagram and his soul would return to Hell where he was supposed to remain. “I don’t want you to go.” You said once you were dressed, tears spilling from your eyes and fingers playing with your habit.

He stood from his position on the floor and walked over to you, kissing your forehead. “Amore mio, it brings me solace to be with you, if only for this fleeting moment. I’ve watched over you, felt your every sorrow. But my time here is ephemeral, and Lucifer wants me back.”

“Fuck what Lucifer wants! I can’t bear to let you go again! I still feel your absence every day, and it’s like a piece of me is missing. Dead.”

Terzo was crying, now, too. Eyes glassy and glistening as he wrapped his spectral arms around you and let you sob into the air where his shoulder should have been. “You must find the strength within you to carry on, tesoro. I will always be with you, in the whispers of the wind, in the warmth of the sunlight, and in the quiet moments of your solitude. You are not alone, and you never will be.” He took your hands in his. “But you have a life to live, and you must do it without me now.”

“But it’s not the same without you here. I ache for your touch, your laughter, your presence beside me.”

“I know, tesoro. But remember the joy we shared, the laughter that echoed through our days. Hold onto those memories. They’re the threads that bind us, even across the chasm of existence. You carry a piece of me within your heart, and I, yours.”

You nodded, even though you were still wanting to clutch onto him and never let him go. “I love you, Terzo. I will never forget you.”

He sniffed. “You better not forget me, or I’ll send Hell’s legions to come remind you.”

“Why can’t I hit you?”

“Lucifer has favourites, clearly your Papa is one of them, hm?” He paused, taking in your appearance one last time. “You were the very breath I breathed, amore mio. Towards the end, you were the only thing that I got out of bed for, the only reason I carried on. Love is too weak a word to describe my feelings for you. You are my sanctity, my guiding star in the night sky, the very life in my lungs. Your laughter is a symphony that resonates with the very essence of my being, echoes with a melody that reverberates through the chambers of my heart, a melody that I wish to cherish for all eternity. My heart will forever be yours.

“But, one day, when your heart no longer belongs to me-”

“Never gonna happen.”

“I want it to. I cannot bear the thought of you alone, pining after me for the rest of your life. Tesoro, you are young. Your beautiful heart still has so much to give. Don’t squander your life waiting for a man who can never return. One day, when your heart no longer belongs to me, I hope that the echoes of our love linger as a bittersweet melody, a testament to the timeless moments we shared in the embrace of a love that once knew no bounds.” He kissed your lips one final time.

Through wracked sobs, you echoed him, forcing the words out of your mouth because you knew you’d regret it for the rest of your life. “Goodbye, Terzo.” You wanted more to come out of your mouth. You wanted to tell him just what he meant to you, how his love made you a better person, how he was everything to you, too. But the lump in your throat wouldn’t let you get the words out. “I love you - I always will. I-”

“I know. Goodbye, ___.”

Terzo backed up into the pentagram, his eyes never leaving you. It could have killed him a second time to watch your heart break once more, shattering into a million pieces on the ground as you finally got to say the goodbye you both deserved the first time. Through blurred vision, you watched him blow you a kiss, before disappearing from this realm altogether, only to exist in your memory. From now on, his voice would only come through a speaker from the videos fans took at concerts, his face would forever remain unchanged and unaltered in the pictures on your dresser.

You fell to the floor, your heartbreak doing as much as it could to commit him to your memory before it faded and time began to heal your wounds. One step at a time. One day at a time. One day, you’d heal from this, but for now, all you could do was let yourself feel.

Previous Day ⛧ Next Day

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onlyswan · 1 year

Text

summary: in which cruel fate leads you and jungkook to bright places.

> fluff, a little twinge of angst? / wc: 4.2k

> warnings: none really. but if you’ve read the grocery store drabble, you really get lost in this one. hehe

note: oc!!! stop making him worry like this. cries in i love sweet boy jungkook sooo much. + i enjoyed writing this :[ <3 listened to cigs after sex while i was at it. and as you can tell i got very. carried away. scratches head. researching about pokemon bread was also kind of fun?

—

love is selfless— it’s what they often say. however, on his way home from work, jungkook finds himself admitting his ugly truth: he is selfish. when he arrives at your shared space, he will tangle his limbs with yours and let you drag him across the floor to wherever it is you need to go. he will hold on to you, and never let go. he will abandon the concept of time at the farthest corner of his mind, along with his exhaustive musings and responsibilities. instead, he will be consumed by you.

and sometimes, he finds that the telepathy connecting the two of you is baffling.

because he’s definitely not thinking about anything else but you. he’s scouring the entire apartment for any trace of life, but you’re nowhere to be found. the bed is still made. the bathroom lights are off. the pillows on the couch are organized. the center table is spotless. the kitchen is clean. he opens the trash bin, and the last thing tossed in there is still the egg tray he discarded this morning. he checks the laundry room, but the only clothes of yours in the laundry basket are from yesterday.

he ends up deciding that you’re not playing hide-and-seek with him like he originally thought. he sits on the counter top, anxiously playing with his lipring as he calls your number. again. and again. and again.

you did tell him earlier that you were going to visit the library, but it already closed an hour ago, so you should be home by now. moreover, if you were going to drop by other places, you would’ve updated him that you’d be home later at night. but you didn’t. the last text you sent him was a captured photo of page 73, an overview about thyme. you reminded him that he once mentioned that he wanted to grow some herbs in your balcony, so you’re doing some old-fashioned research about them in the library.

and thank heavens you answer the call on his fifth try, because he’s about to have a breakdown in the middle of your kitchen.

“jungkook!”

not to be dramatic, but if he was standing, his knees would’ve collapsed on the tiled floor at the sound of your voice. he swallows the lump in his throat, breathes deeply to unload the weight sitting on his chest.

“where are you?”

“oh, right! about that-” you chuckle nervously, and he can already imagine you tapping your foot against the floor. “wait. let me just-”

“how long? i can’t wait. i miss you. tell me where you are and i’ll pick you up.” he hops off the counter, making a beeline to the front door.

“yes, pick me up. please. i’m not sure where i am exactly but i just checked and my location is still turned on with you.”

oh shit. the location feature. why didn’t he think of that? and what do you mean by-

he pauses on his tracks, car keys back in his hand not even twenty minutes since he got off his car. “baby, how do you not know where you are?”

“uhm, i fell asleep in the bus . . . then i panicked and got off because i thought i missed my stop. but you’re not gonna believe what happened next!”

he squeezes his eyes shut, fingers massaging his temple because he has a bad feeling about this. “okay. try me.”

“i realized i actually got on the wrong bus. stupid, right?” you giggle through the phone speaker, and it’s both endearing and ridiculous that you can still laugh in this situation.

nevermind that, he’s just relieved that you’re safe.

“i walked for a while and found this convenience store with a charging station. i emptied my battery trying to book a taxi but none accepted me!”

your whiny voice makes him smile, although he looked forward to hearing it more when he planned to be disgustingly clingy and affectionate.

“i’ll go, baby. just wait for me there, okay?” he presses the down button, waiting for the elevator to arrive.

“okaaay.” you reply in a sing-song voice.

he puts you on speaker mode when he enters, checking on your location to see how far you’ve strayed from home. you got on the wrong bus. no mistake about that.

“you’re an hour and three minutes away.”

he hears you choke out a cough from the other line, most probably on a drink. “an hour?! by foot, right?”

“no,” he chuckles. late night drives with you aren’t new, so he doesn’t mind it one bit. “by car.”

silence fills the air for a few seconds. “then i’ll drive on the way back. i’m about to eat ramyeon so i’ll be energized!”

“let’s see if i get too tired to drive. just stay on the phone for me, okay?”

“wait- i’m hungry. need to go put hot water in my noodles. let’s switch to video call.”

when he accepts the video call, he’s greeted by the candy and chocolate shelf in landscape view. you probably propped up your phone on the charging station, so he adjusts his phone’s position to match yours. and you . . . are nowhere to be found. again.

he’s already driving out on the road when you appear on his screen. you smile at him, waving the chopsticks in your hand.

“i’ll do a live mukbang for you in a few minutes.”

he takes a brief glance, memorizing the way you look before reverting his attention to the road. a small smile grows on his face, a huge wave of love flooding his system. “you look so pretty today.”

“thank you. it took me thirty minutes to pick out my outfit.” you chirp happily before revealing the hand hidden behind your back, holding up a special item you stumbled upon during your little adventure. “look what i found! do you want it?”

“what is it?” he asks as he makes a turn.

“team rocket’s pokemon bread. it’s chocolate.” you inspect the bread again to confirm that you’re correct. “it’s the last one on the shelf so i just bought it.”

his eyes widen in surprise, lips forming an ‘o’. he personally knows many people who have been visiting stores until the late hours to buy them. it’s all the rage nowadays.

“oh? you actually found one?!”

“don’t you think fate led me here for this?” you gush excitedly.

he finally stops at a red light, taking a good look at you with fondness. “you’re giving it to me?”

“yes. enjoy it, okay? i walked in boots for this.” you point at the camera threateningly.

so adorable. he misses you so much.

he obediently crosses his fingers to forge a promise. “i won’t leave a single crumb uneaten.”

“good boy,” you poke the camera as if you’re booping his nose. “i left my food too long. i’ll go get my overcooked ramyeon now.”

you disappear again, and he resumes his journey leading to you. you return moments later, devouring a cup of ramyeon. you’re holding it with some tissue paper. you were never really good with touching hot things— you drop them without thinking twice . . . which is a health hazard.

and it stays like that for a little while. as jungkook drives, he looks at you and the navigation guide every now and then. just to make sure he’s turning to the correct lefts and rights as the voice says; and to give himself the assurance that you didn’t stray somewhere else again. you, on the other hand, is too focused on your food to give your boyfriend a smidge of attention. that’s how mukbang asmr is, right? only eating sounds?

the cashier is probably thinking of you funny for eating infront of your boyfriend via video call in a public place. you couldn’t care less. it’s been a long day, and staying still in this small corner of the earth feels oddly comforting.

you’re in the middle of sipping down the leftover broth at the bottom of the cup when you hear movement from the aisle behind you. being nosy as you are, you find yourself taking a peek. you take quick and light steps back to jungkook to tell him about what you saw.

“babe, they’re restocking the pokemon breads. i’m the only person left here.” you whisper with one hand covering your mouth from the side, as if you’re sharing a secret. “i’ll buy more.”

he unconsciously copies the gesture and the volume of your voice. “do they have the other flavors too?”

“yes. keep driving safe. be right back.”

you dash to the other aisle, and jungkook and the long row of kitkats play a staring contest in the middle of traffic yet again.

familiar with your nature, it is entertaining to watch you participate in the pokemon bread hunt out of the blue. very on-brand and-

“so competitive.” he laughs to himself.

—

“hi!” you beam at the camera, hugging the paper bag inhabited by your new prized possessions. “uh, we have eight in total. i bought one of each flavor so there’s two team rocket now. and three jigglypuff bread just because- um-”

jungkook stifles his laughter. oh, of course you did.

“it’s so cute. i couldn’t help myself.” you sigh, slightly feeling guilty. other people do hoard them and buy everything off the shelf, so you think about that to feel less bad about taking all the jigglypuffs.

fuck. if you’re being this cute over a jigglypuff bread, he might just have to join everyone and do convenience store raids, too.

“you’re kind for still leaving some. i saw a person in the internet buy all the pokemon breads in the store they went to.”

“right?! i saw that, too.” you exclaim, relieved that you had the same thought as him.

“did you get me my pikachu, though?”

“of course. pikachu must always be present!” you answer proudly as you unplug your phone after seeing that it’s already at 50%. “i’m getting bored here. there’s a thrift shop just beside this, so i’ll go see if they’re still opened.”

jungkook drums his fingers on the steering wheel, following a beat he’s making up on the spot. “alright. i’m only fifteen minutes away, so don’t go anywhere else.”

”yes, sir.”

“and don’t end the call.”

“i won’t. you’ll miss me.”

he clicks his tongue before sighing, expressing his frustrating sorrow. “i already do.”

—

the air from outside is warmer, and it engulfs you the second you pull the door open. it makes your skin feel sticky and uncomfortable. the thought of going back inside enters your mind, but the idea gets shot down immediately after. might get tempted to buy more bread.

the thrift shop heavily contrasts the vivid conveniece store. there is no door. racks of pre-loved clothing greet you by the entrance, leading to more of them inside. a lone warm lightbulb illuminates the cramped space, hanging in the middle of the dirty white ceiling. and the smell. oh, the smell— it causes nostalgia to rush throughout your body.

a woman emerges from the wooden counter. she’s in her 50s, if you had the guess. you make eye-contact, and her kind eyes eases your uncertainty about whether you’re allowed to enter or not.

“you can still look around if you want. i’m just cleaning before i close up.”

“oh, thank you!” you politely bow before approaching the long rack of shirts and long-sleeves against the wall. you’ve been eyeing them since the moment you arrived.

left with no other choice, you leave the paper bag of pokemon breads on the floor, under one of the racks. you carefully lean your phone against a shoe on the shelf above it, just a little higher than your eye-level. you smile unbeknownst to yourself. your jungkook looks extra handsome when driving. while he admittedly has a short attention span, he’s very focused on the road when he’s behind the wheel.

you’re already browsing through the clothes when he glances at his phone. he can only see half your face, but he also hears your fast hands pushing back the hanger of the ones that don’t capture your interest.

your love for shopping doubled when you entered a relationship with jungkook, because purchasing items you think he like or need also brings you an unexplainable joy. it’s not limited to clothes or accessories. for example, you bought him white and blue acrylic paint two months ago because you noticed that he used them all up for a project.

after more or less ten minutes, there are already two t-shirts and one sweater hanging on your forearm. one of the t-shirt is yours. it matches with one of your trousers that you barely wear.

you’ve walked past the camera frame when you stumble upon a black bomber jacket, looking so cool and brand-new, which explains why it’s a bit on the pricier side. and you know jungkook has a lot of other black jackets back at home, but you just can’t help yourself because it reminds you so much of him.

it’s so jungkook. you can’t allow it to live in another person’s closet.

you approach the counter with the clothes you picked out. the woman halts her sweeping outside, leaving the broom against the wall before wiping her hands on her long skirt, the floral print noticeably faded with time. you hastily grab the belongings you left unattended, putting your phone’s microphone on mute to keep your little surprise.

there’s no paper bills left in your wallet after spending all your money on food and clothes. with a grimace, you drop it inside your bag. you were only supposed to go to the library today, spend a little money on bus fare and lunch. perhaps, spontaneously add in a little snack in between. however, this is called spontaneity out of hand.

“are these for your boyfriend’s birthday?” the woman asks in a hushed, yet teasing, voice as she folds up the jacket.

two pairs of eyes fall on the phone you’re holding, and you smile sheepishly. “i’m trying to make everyday his birthday.”

“he’s very handsome. you better take good care of him!”

you cover your face in embarrassment, silently laughing. “we take good care of each other! he’s coming to pick me up because i couldn’t find a taxi.”

“oh dear, are you new here?” she stuffs the jacket in the big plastic bag, along with the other clothes you bought. “there’s barely any taxis here after 9pm. everyone just walks. many complaints about it, but good exercise for my rusty bones when they ask me.”

“i’ll keep that in mind for next time.” you wrap your left arm around the bag of clothes, sliding it off the counter until you’re carrying its full weight. “thank you again. have a great night! and stay healthy!”

you stumble on the single step leading outside because the weight of the breads and clothes are unbalanced. thankfully, you make it out of the shop without a scratch. the woman bids you a safe trip and picks up the broom, the melancholia of night-time quietness blanketing her home once again.

you look down at your phone to find that the video call with jungkook has ended, but before you can question him, a familiar voice sings your name from a close distance.

“jungkook!” you call out to him, crossing the distance between you in high spirits. “you really came for me!”

jungkook shakes his head in disbelief. “you really thought i’d leave you here stranded? you always make me worried.”

“i never do it on purpose.” you frown, shoulders sagged with guilt.

“that makes it more worrisome.” he breathes out a sigh. “come here. i missed you.”

“i want to hug you, but my hands are full.”

he takes a step forward and wraps his arms around you, squeezing you in a tight embrace. he feels you give a chaste kiss to his jaw before leaning your cheek on his shoulder, and just like that, his anxiety melts away. your favorite perfume invades his sense of smell. as a person with a sensitive nose, many perfumes often give him a headache. he is in love with yours. it’s sweet and subtle; it feels like coming home.

“i was so excited to come home but you weren’t there.”

“i’m sorry for always making you worry. i’ll be more mindful next time.” you apologize to him with a kiss on the cheek, and you feel it rise against your lips when he smiles. “oh no, wait. the bread- they’re going to get all mushed up.”

he reluctantly untangles himself from you, taking away the heavy load you’re carrying without you having to ask. this is when you swiftly snatch the car keys from his hand.

“i want to drive this time.”

he breathes out a sigh of relief. “oh my god, thank you. i’m getting sleepy.”

—

it’s impossible not to quickly look over to the passenger seat when a bright flash fills the vehicle. surprise, surprise! instead of sleeping, jungkook is taking pictures of the packs of pokemon bread he eagerly arranged on his lap.

“that flash is brighter than the sun.”

he throws a thumbs-up with an overly enthusiastic voice. “samsung!”

you swear, every chance he gets he promotes thei-

“don’t you dare steal my jigglypuff.”

he raises his arms in surrender, making balloons with his cheeks. “i just didn’t know they were strawberry flavored. i’m tasting team rocket’s chocolate rolls first. namjoon-hyung likes it.”

he carefully tears it from the other side to keep team rocket’s image unharmed. he takes a bite from the choco roll, and feeds the remaining half to you.

“mhmmm.” he hums, eyebrows furrowed in sheer delight. “it’s so good? i’m glad you bought another.”

he divides another roll in the middle. he munches on his share as he waits for you to finish your first bite. while he does as such, he suddenly perks up when he remembers the story he was supposed to tell you.

“i saw a group of guys enter the convenience store when i arrived earlier. they were looking for pokemon bread, too.”

“how’d you know?”

“i heard one of them say ‘this one better have the gastly bread or i will cry.’” he imitates the stranger’s deep voice speaking in a whiny manner. “it was funny.”

“then he’s probably on his way home crying now.” your giggles create a harmony.

that store did not have gastly bread, unfortunately.

—

“moment of truth.”

jungkook locates the pokemon sticker after you finish the rest of the bread. you wait with bated breath as he unveils the first out of eight stickers.

he gasps as he comes face-to-face with- “it’s snorlax! number 143 . . . 143.” he freezes as he scans his memory for the special meaning of the number code. “doesn’t that mean ‘i love you’?”

“it does,” you confirm with a grin. “i told you it was fate! isn’t it the best love confession?”

while living with you is a type of intimacy he values greatly, and protects everyday, getting lost in unfamiliar places with you has a charm of its own. it’s one of the days when he allows himself to say: jungkook, you lived well today.

he presses the sticker on your cheek, giving you a kiss through snorlax. “i love you, too.”

—

“since we can’t finish all these bread tonight, we’ll open the rest tomorrow.” jungkook announces as he sets down the plastic bag on the floor. in the meantime, snorlax is kept in his wallet for safety purposes.

he carries the clothes to his lap next, curious eyes and curious hands taking out the items one by one. he squeaks a sound of amazement. “you found quite a lot in that shop.”

“they had a lot of good stuff. i got the dark green-ish shirt. the rest are for you.”

he holds the baby blue sweater by the shoulders, letting the rest of it unfold and hang suspended in the air. “this one is so pretty.”

“oh! i really like that one. might borrow it a lot.”

“you’d look pretty in it. especially in the winter.” he says fondly. the mental image of you wearing it surrounded by snow is making him miss the season that just passed.

you pout. “but i got it for you. so wear it more than me.”

“i will. i want to wear it to work right after laundry day.” you beam in contentment, and he pats your head appreciatively. “you’re so fucking cute, baby. thank you for buying it for me.”

the black jacket catches his attention next, and the galaxies in his eyes sparkle as he takes in its the details and overall appearance. “this is totally my style! how does it look so brand-new?”

“right? it’s a steal so i had to buy it!”

jungkook chews on his bottom lip, a conscious effort to restrain himself from attacking you with hugs and kisses. buying treats and gifts for each other on random days— it’s grown to be a second nature in your relationship. this is why you always go on trips on birthdays and anniversaries instead of buying big gifts. he loves that there’s no pressure, and the element of surprise never fades. he loves that he knows what you like, and you know what he likes. a huge part of what makes him who he is has permanently resided in who you are, and vice versa. he will carry you with him for the rest of his life, just like the food he learned to love because his childhood friend forced him to have a bite, and how he adds a bar on top of the letter J because it reminds him of the number 7.

so from now on, he will refuse to wear any other jacket but the one you bought him, and he will think of you every time the sky is baby blue.

“i think this is going to be one of those clothes i’d wear all the time. like the first sneakers you got me.”

“oh god,” you chuckle at the old memory. if people didn’t know he was rich, they would’ve thought he only had one pair of shoes. “you really wore those out.”

“that’s how much i loved it!”

“okay, but you need to wash it before wearing it.”

“i’ll wake up earlier to do laundry.” he starts planning out his day inside his head as he folds up the clothes to put back inside the bag. but then he traces his thoughts two hours backwards, and he is reminded physical affection he’s been craving the whole day.

“can we cuddle when we get home?”

“of course, my love.” you raise an eyebrow in question. “when do we not cuddle?”

“i just missed you a lot today.” he sighs, turning over to his side to look at you. perhaps, also to memorize the street lights reflecting on your face, and how your beige cardigan has slipped down your shoulder. oh, the urge to write a song at this magical moment.

“what’s wrong? did anything bad happen today?” pure concern adorns your voice. you hate it when he’s sad. so much. you want to shield him from everything bad in the world.

“nothing.” his face starts to feel flushed, one of the dead giveaways that he’s emotional. “i just love you, that’s all. you get it, right?”

you have never been more grateful to meet a light that just turned red.

you solely focus on him momentarily, combing his hair with your fingers because it always helps him to relax. “feeling a little overwhelmed, is that it?”

he only nods as a reply. he catches your hand in his to give your knuckles a kiss, plushy lips caressing the tough bones of your doting hand.

“we’re almost home. wanna cuddle in the bathtub?” you propose when you recognize the familiar scenery through his window. the promising comfort and safety of your home causes exhaustion to come crashing down on you. your muscles are suffering the consequences of your actions, and therefore, are asking for compensation.

jungkook seems to be relishing in the idea, doe eyes sparkling instead of shining with unshed tears. “please, that sounds nice. but i’m sorry for when i fall asleep in there.”

—

you laugh nervously as you enter your parking lot. you do have your license, but you don’t drive very often. maybe three times a month at most. you find driving to be energy consuming despite being seated, so you much prefer commuting because it also serves as your rest time before and after attending to your duties.

“i need to reverse park before we can get into the bathtub, so you have to help me.”

and yes, additionally, you just simply hate reverse parking with burning passion.

“why do you hate reverse parking so much?” your boyfriend asks out of curiosity.

good question.

“i know we have cameras now, but i’m still always scared of bumping into other cars.”

he flashes you his old-fashioned captivating smirk, resting his hand behind the driver’s seat. what makes it funnier is that you’re not even looking. you’re too preoccupied with finding your parking space.

he raises his eyebrows teasingly, doe eyes turning into small slits as they do when he’s playfully flirting. “you don’t have to be scared of such thing, baby. i’ll pay for the damages.”

“you’re jinxing it! i’ll definitely mess up that ferrari now!”

—

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

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

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