#Some days I would just get in from work and want to do nothing

[screampied]

❝ HELL ON HEELS . . ! ❞

ᡴꪫ sum. it's your third day on the job as a flight attendant. you work around a lot of snobby rich elites, but a particular one catches your eye. a particular one who tips you $300 dollars in cash and wants way more than just your uninvited attention.

wc. 6.5k

warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy!gojo au, this is how gojo and reader meet, mile high club trope, flight attendant reader, age gap (early twenties/early thirties), semi public sēx, praise kink, degradation, dry humping, squırting, spanking, edging.

an. thank u to everyone who voted for this on the poll <3

the low-pitched whirring of the plane’s engine was quite loud. white noise could be heard through first class as you walked alongside the aisle. with a heavy sigh, you’d just wish the day would be over. the overall duration of the flight was about a good two hours, not too bad but you were already over it. dealing with haughty a-list celebrities or elites as a whole wasn’t for the weak. a majority of them were rude, snobby, and just stuck up individuals. except for one . .

as thick pieces of rubber stick against your heels and clank against the carbon fibre floor, you sashay through and from the rows before a cheeky voice calls over to you. “excuseee me, miss ‘ttendant,” and you crane your neck to where it was coming from. sat right by the window near the left— draped in nothing but a sable-black tuxedo with a pricey g-shock wrapping around his wrist, he simpers. “do you ahh, mind if you . . ?”

“huh,” you quirk your eyebrows into a brow before he nods his head up toward the cabin compartment above all of the seats. “oh,” you give him a soft smile. he takes a quick glance at your name tag that’s glued on the left side of your blazer. you lean over against him, reaching towards the latch to pull it down. the more you get close to him, the more you smell his cologne. it’s so strong, you were sure it was some kind of expensive designer brand. a small grunt leaves your lips as you stretch before just when you’re about to pry open the cabinet, the plane grumbles with a rude shake. a rude shake in which you fall—right onto the older man’s lap who’s got the smuggest grin.

“we’re experiencing a bit of turbulence up here, sincerest apologizes passengers..”

the pilot mutters through the intercom— it’s blaring through the speakers. he talks for about seven seconds, as well as reminding for everyone to have their seatbelts on at all times before he stops.

as if things couldn’t have been anymore embarrassing, your face lands right into his crotch. “oh my god—i’m so sorry sir,” you try to atone, sitting up and as you’re up so close to him, you take a moment to actually get a good glimpse at the man.

he was pretty, simply no denying it. you knew him from anywhere. gojo satoru, the gojo satoru. the snowy white hair was a dead giveaway.

he was more of a well known business man—a ceo of some hot shot company. he had his own clothing brand, does lots of men photoshoots, and even modeled a bit in his early twenties. although, the more you gawk at him, the more it seems like he barely even aged. gojo looks like he was still in his twenties, he had a bit of a stubble but was quite really well shaved. azul-blue eyes return the stare right back at you as you take in his prepossessing features for just a bit longer.

god, he was handsome.

gojo’s hair was neatly neat, a simple slick back of a sort with a few strands of white hair running down his face. he brings a wrist up to his face to rub his mouth before covertly humming. “. . oh, am i that good lookin’, princess?”

you gulp once he catches you staring, and then it hits you again,

you were still dumbly laid on his lap as he’s gazing into your eyes with the most complacent grin. “i-i’m sorry,” you mumble, cringing at your own stutter. thankfully, it was probably about four am, it was a private jet and only a few other passengers scattered around the sectioned row. sitting up, you rub your neck sheepishly before sighing. “i . . don’t usually fall on passengers during on my shifts.”

“heh well i’d hope not,” he teases. “oh, and don’t worry about getting my luggage by the way,” and his eyes trail you down before he glances at your name tag again. “hm, i think i’d like to request something else though,” and the more you stare into his pretty cerulean eyes, the more you get lost in them.

his eyes were equivalent to a maze, you’re always getting lost in his pretty irises—never finding your way out. “you’re probably all sore from walkin’ around in those heels, how ‘bout you take a little break?”

and he was right. the entire lower parts of your calves were a bit sore, so you do. you take a break . . although,

your 'break' mainly consists of you being hunched over, propped up in front of gojo’s seat with him eating you out from behind like a starved man. your bottom lip feels all numb and puffed from chewing on it for so long. your lips part into an exaggerated ‘o’ as your head’s repeatedly being pressed against the back of the airplane seat in front of you. the softly made material rubs against your face and you moan. some older woman was snoring in the front of it, headphones plugged in both sides of her ears.

thank god, you prayed whatever heavy metal track she was listening to would distract her slumber from hearing your loud, whiny moans.

alas again, by ‘break’, you didn’t expect this but you weren’t exactly complaining either. with gojo’s tongue rummaging against your clit, it had you gasping for desperate various breaths. “s-sirrrr,” you whimper, a lewd smile pursing against your lips. two broad hands of his had your jade-colored business skirt pulled up all the way to the very hem of your torso— just about reaching near your now wrinkled blazer. as you sling an arm over the seat in front of you, you whine once his nose prods against your soddened entrance. “ngh, ‘m gettin’ close again i think. f-fuck, right there.”

“please, call me satoru, baby,” he whispers against your pussy. you shudder from the coldness of his breath aerating against your bare skin—you whine once his palm swats by your right ass cheek, giving it a mean spank. “ooh,” he coos from the recoil of your rear. so pretty, it was quite funny how things even escalated so quickly.

right before he was buried into the depths of your plush thighs, you were just chatting with him. gojo had a charm to him. he was a lot different from the other stuck up elites you occasionally dealt with. he was quite easy to talk to. you make it a habit to talk to each passenger, despite how snobby they might come across anyway.

with him though, he was a pure smooth talker.

gojo showered you with a plethora of compliments. it came natural, it didn’t seem forced—he’d point out your pretty eye color, your hair, just anything. with your job, you were used to getting a few compliments here and there—but he’d go all out, all out in a way where it makes your heart flutter and fly. you’re rutting your ass against his face, loving the way his wet tongue curls into a few alphabetic letters. he’s just filthy. each breath that escapes from your lips as if it was being held captive felt like it was gonna be its last.

“so . . fuckin’ sweet,” he purrs, dragging a thumb down your slit for a moment. gojo takes a second to admire the way you easily soak in his digit, such a breathtaking sight inside. lewd, but breathtaking. “mhm, look at her givin’ me a little show. move your ass against my face a little more, sweetheart. yeah, fuck.”

your heart does jumping jacks at his dialogue. his voice was deep, rich—and seductive.

the silvery band of his watch continues to skim all across your skin as your hips judder. you shiver, feeling yourself about to reach your inevitable orgasmic peak before you moan out loud. you tried to suppress your noises, you did—but it was no use. you’re already biting at your hardened knuckles but oh, his tongue.

every few seconds, he’d break away to spit and slobber on your pussy. his nose consistently smears all against your folds, getting you ten times more wetter than you already were. he’s nasty, making sure you keep that arch for him. your skirt was pulled up and all wrinkled. the teeth-shattering stimulation makes you feel nerves surge all throughout your body like galvanic electricity.

“s- satoruuu.” you’d huff out in tiny pants, feeling your tummy cave in a few times. your sweet moan, its like a tune—a harmony, hell, it was melodic. he’d listen to you whine his name like that all day if he could. a gentle hand of his runs down your twitching leg, giving every part of your body from behind attention.

he was starting to get addicted, you were too sweet . . candied even, it was dangerous. he’s always had a bit of a sweet tooth anyways and perhaps you were his new favorite treat.

the raving pace of his tongue was simply relentless. you’re gripping onto the back of the seat for dear life, barely able to keep up with him.

ethereal ivory lashes of his open and close every millisecond that passes. it’s as if time was going slow for you— of course it was though, considering how you were thousands of feet in the air. you don’t know why, but the thought of someone just walking by and stumbling upon you all bent over for a passenger,

not just a passenger but the gojo satoru . .

you’d be lying a bit if you said it didn’t turn you on a bit. you knew it was against policy to screw on the job, in the air at that, but it was the middle of the night and partly everyone onboard was asleep anyway. having some affluent attractive guy right between your thighs, you were living the dream. you thought this only happened in the movies.

“aw, don’t give up on me just yet, pretty,” he soothes a tune against your cunt. after a while, gojo’s speedy flicking of his tongue transitioning to pure sucks. you’re shaking within the suction of his mouth. it’s almost too much to bare yet you didn’t want him to stop. he knows just the right tempo to make you roll your eyes back too. with prying hands, gojo’s spreading open your ass a bit more to lick a deeper area with his tongue. you zealously whine once he playfully uses a thumb to poke against your puckering hole. “mhm, yeah. thaaaat’s it, but don’t be so loud though, princess. i know we’re in the back row but still, heh.”

and with that— he gifts your ass another smack. he proudly relishes in your lewd, pornographic reactions. you’re an entire mess and he’s slurping your fervor shamelessly.

“s- satoruuuu, fuck f-fuck,” your breathing starts to significantly pick up. with your chest continuing to sink in and out, he briefly sneaks his dampened lips away from your entrance to bite near your thighs. the way you were shaking to him was just so cute. the white noise that continues to sing and reverb throughout the plane’s structure grew louder. or . . that was just the ringing through your ears—regardless, it was between that noise and the sounds of your own obscene pleasure that had a competition. a competition on who could be the most louder. your name-tag that’s still pressed against your blazer remains to rub off against the fabric of the seat in front of you.

your perked nipples snag in the process as you’re arching a bit more before a wail dies out your throat. “i- i’m gonna cu— oh!”

“another few hits of turbulence, folks. please stay in your seatbelts. time of arrival should be around six thirty am..”

you bring a hand over your mouth in a cute attempt to silence yourself as you’re meeting your high—listening to the pilot, you sob out a squeal from the inside of your palm. gojo’s slurping you up again with his tongue, your grinding against his face makes him chuckle. with his jaw tightening a bit, he doesn’t care—you were so sweet, he could eat you out all day. not to mention, he was quite thirsty. instead of having you retrieve one of his bags, he was gonna originally ask for a glass of water. but this quenched his thirst a lot better in his humblest opinion. his warm breath fans against your cunt all the while you feel his stubble tickle near the undersides of your thighs. “mmph.” you moan, peeking in front of you to still see the old lady knocked out cold. with the way you were rocking into the back of her seat— you were surprised she didn’t wake up. you were glad she didn’t though. otherwise, you’d embarrass yourself yet again.

with your orgasm still having its moment, you start to calm down a bit. he’s still slithering his tongue down your folds, savoring your taste as if it’s the last thing on the planet. his chin was coated with all of your slick, and he snickers before dragging a thumb to get another taste. “good girl. give it to me, ride my—ride my tongue, uh huhhh.”

a swarm of butterflies wanders around inside of your tummy from his words—his tone, it was so soft yet the dialogue that spoke out was just downright dirty. you pulse between your thighs and it only makes you crave him more.

as you’re still arched over in front of him, you take a few hard gulps to swallow as you’re finishing your perfect nirvana state. ecstasy, just ecstasy overtakes your entire body as he gives your pussy it’s final sucks and nibbles. once he finishes, he’s still sat in his chair. spinning you around, he gives you a warm smile.

“c’mere, sweetheart..”

out of breath and pants snatching out of your full lungs with ease—you move into him with your eyes half-lidded. “. . . atta girl, taste how sweet you are. gimme a kiss,” and you get on top of him. sliding off your heels, you get onto gojo’s lap. now straddling him, you lean into a steamy, hot kiss. two hefty built arms of his wrap around your waist, pulling you in close. once your lips meet, it’s just utterly sloppy.

throwing your arms around him and tugging on his tucked out collar, you deepen the kiss. he groans at your enthusiasm, allowing his hands to glide against every inch of your body. gojo’s fingertips dance against the pieces of clothing you wore, despite it being so few. your blazer was still on and yet couldn’t help but rock against his lap as your tongue parts inside of his mouth. gojo’s head leans back as you’re enjoying yourself. but all of a sudden, you moan once you feel it. 

his boner, right in the middle part of his pants. gojo satoru was hard—hard for you.

he grunts lowly, a hand of his snaking up your leg as you taste the sweet remnants of your own flavor on his tongue. the closer you are to him, the closer you get a nice everlasting sniff of his cologne. so manly, it’s a rich scent that you could never get enough of. it was so strong—roaming through the air so much that it almost gave you a headache. 

“fuck,” he sibilates. a single hissing word that comes from his mouth makes you throb oh so easily. you’re swaying your hips against him and his adam’s apple bobs back in rapture. every few seconds, he pulls away to leave a wet slope of kisses down your neck. a hand of yours tugs against his tie that was neatly worn on him. “damn girl you’re kinda kinky,” and he finally pulls away, teasingly biting on your bottom lip before finally departing. “i’m startin’ to like you.”

“more,” you murmur, leaning in to nip a wet kiss of your own near the crooked crevices of his mouth. naturally parted lips of his twitch, causing him to wryly smile back at you. “i need more, sir. we have a few more hours left. please.”

“baby, you can call me satoru. cut the formal shit yeah?” and his voice was a pitchy low, an almost rasp hidden underneath. a hand of his gently grabs your chin and you’re met with the most prettiest eyes. if it wasn’t his long lashes, it was his celestially blue eyes. so blue that it was as if you were star gazing at a summer sky. gojo satoru a pretty man, no doubt. he hums to himself in amusement at your cute doe-eyed expression, hungry for more. sitting on his boner was already torture enough, you just wanted him inside. 

sure, you were technically working but you didn’t care about that. “satoruuuu,” he’s being playful, a thumb still pulling down your bottom lip. as you’re both maintaining such intimate eye contact, his voice softens once more. gojo’s hand slides its way between your thighs before he raises a brow in a taunting manner. “what do you want satoru to do to you? tell me, girl.”

“t- touch me.” you almost whine out, it yanks out from your throat so pathetically. the throbbing you were feeling behind your panties only turned into straight convulses. 

playfully, he tilts his head with a smile. “yeah? touch ya where.”

“i gotta spell it out for you?” you pout, and he chuckles at your frustrated attitude. you start to jerk your hips against his lap and he holds your waist in place to bring those movements to a stop. “f-fuck, ‘s hard.”

stroking a thumb against your quivering lips, his minty breath hits against your nose—you smell it and it’s minty fresh. a scent of what seemed to be some kind of tangy beverage and a gum like substance. with a mocking tone, he presses a kiss against your nose before jibing. “i just wanna know where ‘m gonna put my hands on this pretty body. that’s all,” and his voice was so smooth, an almost purr. with a chortle, he moves a few strands of hair out of your view of sight before continuing his words. “now now, i’ll ask again, pretty. where do ya want me to touch you? let’s be descriptive this time.”

“between my t-thighs,” you confess, already soaked from him devouring your pussy just merely seconds ago. the shocking friction between both bodies had you feral, had you dizzy, had you stupid.

gojo gradually brings a hand down before you press a hand against his chest, pouting again. “actually, i want you to fuck me. please, satoru.”

“there we go, good girl. ‘n heh, aw i figured,” he cheeses, licking a single stripe up your neck. “mhm, you’ll have to ride me though. ‘s only so many positions you can do on a plane, heh.”

you barely let him finish your sentence before you start to unbuckle his pants. you’re so quick with it. gojo stares at the way you’re so desperate, taking it off the tiny hooks before yanking his belt all the way off. seconds later, you’re pulling down his pants toward his ankles. “ooh,” his eyes flicker towards your chest as you start to align yourself against his lap. you take a moment to stare at his now exposed cock and it was so pretty. lengthy if anything, a leaky mushroom like tip that was a bit reddened. he was so hard too, just gawking at his heavyset bulge that had you almost drooling. gojo leans back, rubbing against his thigh before flashing you a cheesy smile. “wellllll,” he sings. “don’t be shy girl. get on up here. ride all that stress away from work, pretty thing.”

he was so cocky, yet you were so needy. 

as you’re still aligning him, your damp entrance rubs off against the head of his tip. it’s peeling open a bit, the skin that attaches to the frenulum was just so mesmerizing to look at. it’s got a pinkish color, almost red. shortly following, a mere tannish color flushes on his cock near the base down. you moan once he grabs ahold of his length, helping you adjust. 

“easy . . easy baby, i gotcha,” he sighs, feeling your warmth slowly swallow him whole. those short seconds you spend taking in gojo’s dick feels like long, consecutive hours.

you’re dripping wet. as you straddle his lap, preparing to ride him, he slouches back in such a sexy way. manspread—gojo grunts out a single breath as his chest deflates. shifting his gaze towards your cunt, he spreads open your folds to get a better view. “ughhh, look at how she opens up for me. ‘s fuckin’ nasty,” he groans, staring dead at your cunt. you were indeed coating him with your slick from the base down. “give it to me, upside daisey, yeah.”

you’re taking his inches as the seconds go by before after a while—you plop down, feeling him bottom out already. gojo moans, gifting your ass with another spank. “f-fuck ‘toru,” you hiss, knowing that was a non-verbal sign for you to start up your hips. a cooling air that passes through the plane sets against your skin as you move. you whine, feeling his hands trickle alongside the secretive edges of your thighs. “touch me more, l- like that.”

“i don’t remember saying you could tell me what to do,” he meets your eyes as you start to thrust forward. he’s got the most impish grin stretching against his lips. gojo grips your chin for what was probably the nth time within this hour before he grins. “nuh uh, don’t look away. i wanna see those gorgeous eyes,” and he sneaks another wet kiss against your mouth. “ride it like you own it baby.”

you start off realllll slow, 

sashaying your hips up and down against his lap in the most alluring way. all six eyes were on you and only you..

your arms still wrap around him and he’s keeping eye contact with you the entire time. with your blazer practically ruffled and wrinkled, you continue to move yourself against him. gojo’s cock stretches you out in such a way you didn’t even know was possible. your walls craved him, you craved him.

as he leans further back, a hand’s still glued to your ass before he smacks it . . again.

he pats it afterwards, watching a cute sour expression slowly marinate against your facial features. 

gojo giggles at your cute noises, it doesn’t take long before you bury your face into the crook of his neck, gnawing your teeth against his collared shirt. “f-fuck, satoru,” you’d whine out, feeling his grip tighten against your ass. his cologne’s got your head spinning like a merri-go-round, giving you whiplash in all the right ways. “s-so big, stretchin’ me.”

“takin’ it so good, baby,” he licks against the lobe of your ear.  his breath against your neck was warm—not so cold anymore. two rough hands grasp onto your active hips, encouraging you to go more forward, more faster. “good girl, mhm, fuck me like that. use those hips for me, yeahh.”

his dick curves through every part of your walls as if it’s exploring. you feel him reach deep within every part and it’s driving you toward the first street of crazy.

breathy pants skate out from your lips as you’re swinging yourself back and forth against him. “s-satoru,” you whimper, feeling his hands continue to feel against the bare bottom parts of your ass. you could feel the bands of rings he wore rub off against your skin also, so fridgly cold. “f-fuck, ‘s good. mhm, fuck.”

“you’re so pretty,” he groans, the brief sounds of skin slapping resounding through your ears. it’s loud, almost sonorous.

his hair was getting a bit ruffled and unkempt, adding to his suave, mature features.

as he looks off into the nearly empty dim lit aisle, a silhouette appears—someone’s coming. it’s a familiar sound of heels hitting against the floor and you were too occupied of being horny to turn your head. at first, you barely even notice as you’re still grinding against his lap. “oh shit,” gojo gasps, grabbing the sides of your hips, suddenly bringing you to a stop. with a sly smile, he hums against your ear. “baby, don’t freak but i think your co-worker’s coming.”

“w- what?” you murmur, and he makes you spin around, still having his heavy cock hidden into the swollen depths of your cunt. glancing up, it was one of your co-workers coming. in a weak attempt to fix your nearly messed up blazer that was about to pop, you lean against his chest. “who— where?”

as he’s pressed right up against you, you’re met with a playful deep voice against your ear. “relax. act like you’re totally not cockwarming me, obviously,” and he runs a few fingers down your uniform, feeling you shift your hips a bit at his touch. gojo tries to make it look like you were just sitting on his lap, moving a cover over you and him from the waist down. you feel so full, you were growing more and more needy, a pout comes onto your lips because you didn’t want to stop so abruptly. you just wanted to keep riding him, but of course—you were working. “play it cool, baby.”

“um, is everything okay?” one of your fellow co-worker flight attendants, serena murmurs.

with a furrowing brow, she takes in the sight in front of her. you, happily straddling a passenger's lap whilst you’re heaving as if you’d just finish a 5k race. “we’ve been some getting complaints about noises. also, you need to restock the snacks near back. we’re runnin’ low on peanuts.”

“y-yeah, ‘m fine,” you sheepishly nod, knowing how fishy this entire scene might have looked. gojo’s dick was just idly enshrouded into your cunt, just one move and you’d be fucked. technically, you already were fucked. he’s tracing a finger against your thighs before you exhale. “but uh— can’t you restock?”

“i would but that’s not my job,” she snaps with an eye roll. gojo chortles at your co-worker’s attitude, he presses a single kiss against your neck and you almost moan. her facial expressions twist in disgust before she backs away. “anyways, just go restock,” and as she twists her heels to walk away, she utters under her breath. “weirdos. i don’t get paid enough for this shit.”

gojo lets out a breathy laugh as you finally moan again—it’s taking everything out of you and you start up the jolting of your hips again. “f-fuck, ‘m close, ‘toru,” you whimper, the friction feeling like hot static dragging against your legs. “mhm, ‘s good.”

“you’re even more dirtier than i thought, princess,” he whispers, a hand playfully wrapping around your throat as you’re moving your hips back. “i bet your co-worker put two ‘n two together. you could have been a little more believable.”

you’re moaning, his touch sending you more deadly shivers before you feel a coil within you squeeze shut tight. the beat of your heat grows rapid and your pupils dilate from pure pleasurable lust. you’re getting close again, it’s coming so quick that you barely have any time to breathe.

his aromatic cologne nearly blinds your sinuses before you feel against his neck with your palm. “i . . i don’t care if she knows,” you mumble with a scowl, feeling his base continuously rub against your entrance. you’re coating him with nothing but a pretty viscous sheet of your slick. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum again.”

“yeah? what if i want you to wait?” he purrs, his sloping trail of kisses turning into sucks. you whine, leaning into his touch as he’s stuffing your insides full of thick cock. jello—your legs felt like jello, barely even able to move. the warmth against him had you hungry for more. it was addictive, you didn’t know what it was. you didn’t get like this for any other passenger, yet here you were. your mouth croons open, whining out a single harmony at his pace. he’s still making you grind back against him, the tempo having your head going for a spin every time. “what if i want you to be a good attendant ‘n wait just a bit longer f’me?”

“but—”

“nuh uh,” he snickers, bringing a smack to your ass. “wait for me, pretty. this pussy’s gonna make a mess when i want her to.”

and he creeps a hand down between your jittery legs, rubbing a few circles against your already sopping wet cunt. a gasp wretches from your throat as you’re laid back against his chest. the rugged fabric of his tuxedo top whisks against your skin and you’re babbling out sweet nothings.

“f-fuck, ‘m not gonna last,” you whine, feeling yourself throb at the way his thumb brushes against your throat. he’s feeling the vibrations of your gruttural moans and it’s so cute. by this point, you’d already forgotten you were thirty thousand feet in the air. thirty thousand feet in the air and you were getting your pussy destroyed by one of your passengers. 

not just any passenger though, 

gojo satoru. 

he’s panting right with you as you’re just bouncing on his lap, two soft padded hands gripping against his thighs. as you bite your lip, your ass thrashes back gainst him and he hisses. “just like that, pretty girl. shiiiiit, ‘m gonna cum too.”

with his deep penetrative thrusts, it’s got you going ditzy. as he starts to spank against your puffy cunt, he nibbles against your collarbone. “you wanna cum with me, yeah? ‘s that why you keep dragging y’r nails into my leg?”

“s—sir,” you desperately spat, but he spanks your cunt again so you could switch your words around. “ngh, i mean satoru. wanna cum with you, pleaseplease. ‘s good, want it, finish in me.”

“my, well when ya ask like that,” he hums, and you feel the sharpness of his hips pivot. gojo groans, standing up before he lies you back against the now reclined seat. “lie back, baby. actually, changed my mind. i wanna push those pretty knees up to your chest.” 

panting, you lie back against the now lounged seat. gojo flashes you that same sly grin before he lifts up your leg—bringing a sweet kiss toward your ankle. “you can lose your license over this, you know? dirty girl, lettin’ your pussy think for ya instead of that brain, huh?”

“don’t care,” you moan, watching him quickly align his cock against your slit. gojo grunts, feeling you easily swallow his tip up again. your cunt was clingy, he was very much addicted to your slippery sloppy core. with his pants halfway on and hanging down to his ankles, he starts up a rapid pace again. “uh, uh,” you whimper again and again, your thighs instinctively wrapping around his waist. you’re keeping him warm from the inside, raw moans pulling out of your esophagus like it was nothing. “right there, ‘m gonna cum, please. s-sir, fuck me.”

“satoru,” he corrects you, a hand gripping your chin. pretty blue eyes leer down at you and he’s so close to you. as he’s jackhammering his cock into your sobbing swollen walls—eyes of your own goggle into gojo’s as he’s fucking you silly. you probably look a mess from this view, the heel of your foot grazing down his strong back muscles. gojo hears the sloshing squelches your own pussy makes and you feel the sudden throb arise from his dick. he twitches inside you and it makes his head throw back. after he gains composure again, he exhales deeply, tapping a thumb against your sealed lips.“you don’t gotta be formal when ‘m inside, princess,” and he squeezes your lips together, licking near the bottom. “open.”

you’re whining, his tempo growing quicker and you’re so close. crimson-carmine lips of his twitch into a feral smile once he sees you being so easy to comply. with your lips parting open, you tilt your head back before he spits into your mouth.

“theeeere’s your tip,” he teases, pursing your lips together with two fingers as you swallow. your cunt still gripping against him as he then pulls you into a deep kiss. with your legs clutching around his waist. “uh, manners baby. where’s my thank you?”

“t- thank you, ‘toru.” you breathe, feeling your cunt throb even quicker.

“oh, you’re welcome,” he smiles and he can’t help but giving you another kiss on the mouth shortly afterwards. the lustful stare he’s giving you could almost be described as lecherous has you more sopping wet by the second. with your legs tightly and securely keeping him from breaking away, he groans. right into your mouth, his tongue collides against yours before he sucks on it. as he brings you into a loving kiss again, gojo’s girth has you feeling a sudden arch in your back arise the moment you sit up. you’re being fucking into the reclined seat, his weight almost crushing against but it feels so good. “mhmmm, ‘m gonna cum. gonna spill so much inside of you, pretty.”

“don’t waste any,” you whimper, wrapping your arms around him. you didn’t even care how unprofessional this was. in the back of your mind, you’re thinking to yourself— if someone walked in again, who cares? not you. “please.”

“well aren’t you a doll,” gojo murmurs in a cooing tone, shoving your knees all the way up near your chest. you’re preparing yourself as you’re about to reach your final pleasurable demise. it feels almost tickling, the fat tip of his cock repeatedly kisses against that same spot within you. you’re whines sound almost melodic, not even caring if your pilot a few seats back heard. “look at me.” he taps your bottom shaking lip, leaning in to plant another kiss on your lips. one turns into two, then three, then four . .

and then— his phone rings.

you’re still a moaning mess, feeling your legs just about give out as he’s pressing such amounts of weight on top of you. gojo’s hands fondle with your neglected breasts that laid underneath your blazer. he groans, reaching for his phone near the counter of the seat. with a grunt, he answers. “tch. satoru gojo.”

still snugly shoved deep inside, he’s multitasking. one hand holds onto the left side of your waist, another holding his phone up against his cheek. he’s drilling into you so mercilessly as if his occupation was a construction worker. you whine, the scratching itch never leaving you. once it comes, it comes. “suguru, ‘m kinda busy. can this wai— oh f…fuck.”

in an abrupt gasp, he ends up finishing first. it’s so much. thick gooey spurts pour into your cunt, filling up the insides of your goopy womb. gojo’s peering down at you and his lip quivers. he finished a bit early. too quick, his hand shakes as he holds up his phone before you squeeze your legs against his torso even tighter. for a moment, he almost whines himself. the strong gripping grip your pussy has against makes him swear underneath his breath.

“huh? yeah, ‘m good,” he sexily whews, slowing his rhythm down a bit.

a hand of his snaps, making you look down between your legs.

he gives you a teasing grin and you spread your folds open. it was so much, so much velvety ropes of hot cum that ooze in and out of your sloppy folds. you’ve never felt more warm from the inside. it was a feeling that had your mouth watering, salivating with your sweet, syrupy saliva. your legs were practically mush, and once you finish, you end up gushing all out at once. it takes you by surprise more than anything. the feeling comes like a crashing, unpredictable wave, a fading fade then departures from your body. minutes eventually pass and gojo’s still yapping away on the phone—yet after a while, he decides to wrap it up and groan. “yeah yeah okay, man. i gotta go now. unless you wanna listen to how i sound post-orgasm, heh.”

“what—?”

with a quick bleep, gojo hangs up. tossing his phone aside, he looks down at you—cutely sprawled out whilst chills run down your body. he can almost see you palpitating from said chills. leaning up close to you, still balls deep, he pants heavily. gojo pressed a kiss against your right temple before teasing. “heyyy, did you just squirt on me?” he asks, and he speaks in a sly soft tone.

you don’t reply and he gives you a priggish smile. “you didddd. so nasty, i should make ya lick it off me.”

you did end up squirting. it was so much. so so much.

you’re still having your legs wrap around his waist before you grab onto his wide, stiff shoulders. “s-satoru,” you moan into his neck, getting yet another balmy whiff of his manly musk. “f-fuuuck, more.”

right before he could reply though— the intercom of the plane comes on and it’s the pilot.

“ladies and gentleman, we’ve made it to our destination. local time and time of arrival is six thirty-three am. for your own safety and others around you, please remain seated and keep the aisles cleared until i announce we’re at the airport gates. thank you.”

“aw, boo,” gojo laments, slowly pulling out of your pussy. a pout unfurls against your glossed lips as you feel suddenly empty. no more thick inches inside. the only thing you felt were the leftover masses of his cum spewing out of you. the seats were a mess, he brings a hand down to strum a few fingers against your entrance and you whine. so soaked, he gifts you with a kiss on your forehead before exhaling. “well, think it’s ‘bout time we part ways, gorgeous.”

gojo helps put back on your skirt and panties and you‘re just laid back with a cute scowl as he assists you off your feet. “i . . can’t walk like this,” and he chuckles at how stiff you were— a few droplets of his cum race down your thighs and you almost moan again. you’re still sensitive, throbbing near every inch of your body before he stands up. he’s so lean and tall. as gojo towers over you, you glance up at him and you’re met with that annoying flirtatious smirk he gave you when his eyes first laid on you. “my panties are practically ripped.”

he turns around to grab his suitcases above him from the cabinet and sighs.

zipping up his exposed fly, gojo leans in to kiss your forehead. “ah, well i can always buy you some more,” and then he pauses. “actually,” he grabs his wallet and your eyes widen once he gives you three hundred dollar bills. “i can buy you more than just panties if ya want, sweet thing,” he slides the bills in between your bra before pressing a kiss against your neck. “you’ve been such a good girl,” and he then hands you his business card. it displays his name and a cheesy saying near the front, all his information in bold blue letters too. before walking away with your bawled up underwear, he leans up to your ear for a final time and whispers, “remember though, it’s satoru gojo, baby. ah, and these panties—i’ll be keeping these as a souvenir.”

#★vegasbaby. #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #anime smut #female reader #jjk fic #smut #jjk x reader smut #cw sex mention

[dante-mightdie]

I’m sorry but I must share—what would you think of Cult-leader! Price who finds a distraught, bruised and bloodied reader who ran away from home and takes her to his warm lodge to nurse her back to health and feed her. The poor thing looked like a frightened doe as he found her and he merely wanted to help her but the longer she stayed with the tight-knit community in the depths of the woods the more harder it is to leave. After reader feels more better and wants to take off, she tries to phone her family/friends yet there is no service. Price tells her that unfortunately the service cables were destroyed by a Wilde moose or something and that it would take three weeks or so til the repairmen come. He still offers her to stay longer in his lodge—of course sooner expecting her to help out. Afterall, he provided her with shelter and food, it’s the least she could do. Days pass in a blur and the longer reader stays the lodge the more she starts to forget why she even was stuck here in the first place. What seemed at first as unusual, like the weird nightly feasts that Price and his people make, becomes a familiar tradition of sorts. It’s tradition—he assures. It’s status quo and all the other weirdly hunts that they make at every full moon are only a friendly little game—nothing serious. Or so Reader is fed to belief. It’s not until reader herself gets caught up in all the festivities and rituals that she becomes the very prey that Price hunts each full moon. Only that this time the sacrifice won’t be small pesky rodents but reader herself. As reader is the perfect fit to Price’s family. The mother of his loyal cult. Soft and pliant and perfectly ripe for such role.

Anyways—these worms have been wringling in my mind all day. Ty for letting me get this off of my chest.

Ps: Love your writing, ty for your previous brainrot <3.

no but just imagine him chasing you through the woods <3333

c/w: kidnapping, cult dynamics, predator/prey, dub-con, non-con, p-in-v sex, no prep penetration, dacryphilia, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth

gets you all prettied up in a long red dress, telling you it’s all part of the tradition but you seem to be the only one wearing red. he keeps you sat besides him the whole night, ignoring your worried complaints about the uncanny smiles every one is sending your way

he keeps a hand planted on your thigh the entire time, thumb soothing over your skin as he offers you slow-cooked meats and sweet wine. and when the full moon rolls around and john drags you to the edge of the forest with an excited grin on his face, it finally clicks what his plans are

he keeps you locked in his arms whilst his hands feel up and down your waist, over your hips and ass. grunts and heavy groans filling your ears as his lips brush over the skin. “don’t worry, sweetheart. we won’t be apart for long.”

he nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, breathing in your scent. “I’ll find ya nice and easy then we can get to work on continuing my legacy. have ya knocked up in no time, baby…”

he gives his people some long speech about family and responsibility, bloodlines and destiny. about how it’s time he settled down and had a brood of children of his own to carry on everything he has built. the whole time he has you pinned against him, your back to his chest. no one notices the way he pulls his cock out just enough to tap the tip against your puffy folds before tucking himself away

he gives you a 15 minute headstart, you spend the first few minutes still stood at the tree line. you begged and pleaded with him not to do this but he just laughed and began putting on some form of tac-gear. you eventually took off running after 5 minutes, your vision blurred by the darkness of the night

if your heavy breathing and panting didn’t give away your location, then your constant stumbling over would. you could hear twigs breaking and animals rustling around in every direction but you couldn’t see more than a few centimetres in front of your face

you clutch the lace fabric of your skirt, your feet dredging through the mud until you hear and feel them splash against the tide of some body of water. you squeak loudly when your feel the icy cold temperature frost your skin

you crouch down, collecting some of the water and splashing it on your face in an attempt to calm your breathing. the adrenaline courses through your veins as your eyes dart around, unable to make anything out in the night

you spend the next few hours wandering around blindly, an impending sense of doom building up under your skin with each passing hour in which the sun doesn’t rise. you stop to catch your breath, kneeling in the earth below you. your nails dig into your thighs over the material of your dress, your eyes still struggling to make out your nearby surroundings

your breath still when you hear a twig crunch a few feet to your left, muscles freezing when you try and listen out for your surroundings. your heart thumps loudly in your chest whilst your nails dig into the earth below you. there’s nothing but a few seconds of silence before you hear footsteps rushing towards you in quick succession

there’s no time for you to scream when a large hand, wrapped in a tactical glove, covers your mouth and squeezes your jaw closed. the darkness impairing your vision meant you were forced to only be able to feel as you are manhandled into a crude position

his mean grip entangled with your hair keeps you pinned to the ground, your cheek smushed into the cold surface of the earth. you feel rocks and gravel digging into the skin of your knees, engraving their shape into your flesh. you thrash and kick in his grip but he keeps you firmly pinned, his crotch pressed against your bare cunt when he takes his hand off of your mouth to tear the flimsy fabric of your dress off

the bitter chill of the night attacks your skin instantly, making you whine out when you feel goosebumps begin to prickle all over your body

“quit yer squirmin’, woman. only makes me ‘arder when you grind against my cock like that.” he grunts in your ear, bucking his hips against your ass. you sob and squirm, trying to break free except you only end up pushing yourself further back against his throbbing erection

he wastes no time unzipping his cargos, the smell of smoky sweet tobacco filling your nostrils. a pleasant change from the dry dirt you were smelling before. he doesn’t bother undoing the top button of his pants, reaching into the open zip and pulling his cock out. he lets it fall against your wet cunt with a small plap

he wraps one arm around your hips from behind, using his other to pull your upper body up to slot right against the uncomfortable feeling of his tactical gear. he does this just so he can plant his hand right back over your mouth before bending you back over onto your hands and knees

“yer gonna make such a beautiful mother to my family. aren’t ya, darlin’?” his words drown out your muffled protests, his hips sloppily grinding against your ass. his cock slipping between your folds, nudging against your clenching hole each time

“gonna keep yer belly round ‘nd yer tits leaking for at least the next 5 years, dovie…�� he groans, jumping you from behind like a feral dog in heat. his lips whispering filthy things in your ear, promises of knocking you up and talks of twins

he lets out the human equivalent to a howl when his hips finally manage to angle his cock right enough to breach past your slippery hole, sliding all the way to the hilt with one easy thrust. the bush of curls decorating the base of his cock tickle your folds when he grinds into you, adjusting your hole to the stretch

his hands switch positions, one tangling itself into your hair and the other pinning both of your wrists to the small of your back. your upper body is suspended in mid-air as he begins a brutal pace of thrusts, leaving your mouth uncovered so he can listen to your pleasured wails

the quiet forest is filled with the sound of wild nightlife and the rhythmic pap pap pap of johns ballsack colliding with your clit. your tits bounce with the force of each thrust as you sob out, “please, john! please…!”

he shushes you, yanking on your hair slightly like tugging on the reins of a wild horse. he lets out a deep chuckles, looking down to watch his meaty cock slide in and out of your drooling pussy. “don’t worry, dolly. been preparing for this ever since you landed on my doorstep. wanked my cock every night thinkin’ about filling you up.”

he stops his words to let out a deep growl when he feels your walls clamp down tight against him, “didn’t cum once. saved it all for you, darlin’. nothing more important to me than giving you a few of my brats to take care of…”

you can feel his precum spilling into your womb, the warm feeling beginning to spread throughout your gut. he takes his hand out of your hair only to deliver a sharp slap to your ass before returning it to its former place

“gonna spend the rest of this full moon splitting you open on my cock, little lamb. then once yer good and bred, I’ll take you home and treat you exactly how my wife deserves to be treated…”

~

cut to nine months later, you’re sat up in bed on a warm summer’s night. two healthy, chubby babies asleep against your chest whilst your husband, john, brushes your sweaty hair back from your forehead

there’s a content smile on your face as you coo slightly down at your newborn twins, your voice still hoarse from your recent labour :(

#mw2 #cod mw2 #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #price x reader #captain john price #john price x reader #john price #captain price #price #cultleader!price

[luveline]

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

When someone hurts you, you and Aaron both need time to get better, and to put things right. fem, 8k

cw canon typical violence, graphic scenes and imagery of assault/battery, recovery, mentions of being sick, issues eating. established relationship, lots of angst and comfort, hotch being vulnerable, jack being sweet 

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

You lay backward over the luxurious stretch of the couch and sigh as your spine gives a sharp crick. Your head feels heavy after a long shower, your arms ache from a day at work, but the feeling of soft cotton on your legs deters any moping. 

I hope these are more comfortable, his note read, a white post it note stuck to a boutique bag. You wrap an arm around your waist remembering how Aaron’s message had made you feel: spoiled, and considered. 

You’d mentioned in passing that all your pyjamas are old and rough as a consequence, thought nothing of it, and promptly forgot about the conversation entirely. 

When Aaron finally comes home tonight, you’re going to give him a proper thank you. You can imagine his reaction to such a thing, his smile as he says it’s no problem, his eyes shuttering closed as you press a kiss to his cheek. You hadn’t realised how prevalent affection would become in your life after meeting him, but everything he does inspires love. Awful, soft, marshmallowy love where he looks at you and you want to sit in his lap. 

You slide your phone up your chest lazily and click the button on the side to light the display. Aaron hasn’t claimed to know when he’ll be home tonight. All he’d said was to let yourself in. 

It’s odd but not the worst thing in the world to be alone in his apartment. There’s less and less free space each time you visit as Jack begins to outgrow his and his fathers lodgings, but there’s never a stain or bad smell, the Hotchner apartment feels homey. You’re excited whenever you’re invited to spend the night with them. 

Maybe some time soon he’ll ask you to move in, or better, to marry him. You’re not a hundred percent sure how you feel about marriage, about being someone’s wife, but there’s a great well of pleasure to be found in the idea that Aaron would want to marry you. He makes you feel loved already in a hundred different ways but the ring might be nice, like a symbol to signify how much you mean to him. 

You rest your hand across your eyes. It’s silly to think of. Sillier to want so soon. You’ve been together for just under a year, and you have no false hopes about rushing into the future, but it’s certainly a future you want with him (and with Jack, too). He’s taking things slowly for a hundred different reasons but he loves you, and gifts like your new pyjamas cement that. He really listens to you. 

Your phone rings a moment later. 

You smile at the screen. It’s nice to be in love with someone who loves you too. 

“Hey,” Aaron says when you answer, his voice warm even through the phone, “I didn’t think you’d answer.”

“How come?” You sit up with a little start. 

“It’s getting late, honey. I called Jess and Jack was already gone.” He doesn’t say anything further. 

“Are you okay?” 

“I wanted to hear your voice, I think.” 

“Well, where are you?” You struggle to envision him speaking saccharinely like this where his colleagues could hear him. He’s nice to you often, but he’s a reserved man. 

“I’m just,” —a crunching sound of metal, the trunk of his car closing— “about to get in the car. I’ll be home before ten. Can I have you until then?” 

“I don’t see any reason to say no. But do you think you could come home a little faster? I have a crick in my neck.” 

“And you want me to fix that?” 

“You always fix my neck.” 

“How have you done it?” There’s a sound you assume to be the car door closing, but you can’t hear anything beyond that. 

“I have bad posture.” 

“You have perfect posture.” 

“No, it’s quite bad.”

He laughs loudly. It took some time to draw the humour from him but he isn’t as stony as you’d think, and for a while he didn’t have much worth laughing for, anyways. Whenever you hear it, you try to prompt it twice. 

“You don’t have to lie to me, Aaron, it’s just like when you said my weird rash wasn’t weird.” 

He laughs again, to your pleasure. “It wasn’t weird, it was a heat rash, I promise. You act like you’ve never seen heat rash.” 

“One of us goes to hot cities all the time and one of us lives permanently in Virginia.” 

“What are you talking about? Virginia’s far from cold. You’re being argumentative, I can see your smile in my head. I’m never going to fix your crick if you keep acting like that.” 

“No, don’t be like that,” you laugh, tipping back into the cushions. “You’re always such a sore loser.” 

“What did I lose?” 

You can tell from his tone that you’ve promised yourself one of those hugs that borders on a straight jacket tightness, his face tucked into your neck as he asks you to repeat yourself. What did I lose? he’ll ask again, kissing your chin, the line of your jaw. Tell me clearly.  

“It hurts,” you say honestly, “please don’t be mad. I really need one.” 

“I’m not mad… I’m going under the overpass, my signal might cut out.” 

“Okie dokie. Hey, did you eat? I can make you something for when you get home. I got groceries.” 

“I’m not hungry, but you can make yourself hot cocoa, and I’ll drink it when I get there,” he says. 

“Or I could make us both some?” 

“It’s much more fun if I drink yours before you can, honey. You know that—”

You pause in the quiet, then hear a quick beeping. You pull your phone from your ear and find the call disconnected. 

Cruel overpass, you think. 

Sure he’ll call you back, you take your phone into his kitchen and set about finding all the things you’ll need for hot cocoa. One mug, because you should hate when he forces you to share, but you love the feeling of his fingers on yours as he takes it and the thankful kiss he dots on your cheek. 

The kettle is uncomplicated. You toy with the stovetop, set the kettle on the burner, and let the temperature rise. It begins whistling lightly a mere thirty seconds later. 

You click your phone on again. He’ll have passed through the tunnel now and will be calling you back any minute. You stare at the phone, hoping to summon him, slouched over the counter with the tin of cocoa powder by your fingers. The kettle whines with growing heat, but cool air kisses your back. 

Goosebumps rise. Up and down the lengths of your arms, the back of your neck—

A sudden chill. 

The lack of air comes before the hand, the pain a rush, a burst to be away from. Leather on your neck creaking without sympathy as a hand tightens and drags your body back against something hard. 

Not Aaron. Your scream comes strangled under cruel fingers as you fight to move forward again, straight for the burner, the kettle shoved across the burner grate and exploding with scalding water, heat of the burner kissing your chest— you scream, only it’s worse than a scream, sound from the deepest part of you forcing itself past the heat at your neck as you try to fling yourself away from the pain. 

You fall with a hard clout. “Stay still!” comes out enraged against the back of your neck. You drop to your knees, the pain lighting flaring up your chest, your gaze frantic as you search for a flame that isn’t there. You’re not on fire, you’re crawling and then scampering up into a standing position when the heavy weight drops itself on you again and smashes your face into the floor. 

All your fight leaves you. Your ears ring. Your panic wanes but the pain stays alert in your mouth. 

A hand grabs you by the back of the head and drives your face into the ground. It’s like light in your eyes and your nose, the brunt of it, the crack of your bone and the hot trickle of blood that swiftly follows. You gurgle in pain, spluttering and gagging against the linoleum, waiting for Aaron to turn you over and say sorry. It’s an accident.

Blood drains from your nose in spurts to match your racing pulse, so much blood you can see your eyes reflected in the dark stretch of it. Water drips down the front of the stove, your breath aches and begs, and your attacker takes a measured breath. 

He flips you over. You can’t slide away, there’s nothing left in you, your head a second body as he raises something. 

Your phone rings on the counter. 

“Please, don’t,” you plead with a sob.

You pass out as the pain connects. Just as quickly as it started, your body takes the reins. 

—

There’s a strange darkness waiting for you. Like waking before your alarm and stealing those last minutes, body aching, not wanting to get up and face the day. Aaron gets up early every morning, sometimes as early as four AM, and whenever you get up with him your eyes hurt for hours. 

Nothing, nothing, nothing. 

Hey, hey, I think your boyfriend’s coming.

What will he make of my handiwork?

You didn’t stay awake long enough for that one, did you? But you’re waking up now.

The pain is enough to wake you up again, a hot drag down the side of you to your hip and in. You aren’t aware of the sounds you make, but you can hear them. Your panicked squealing as the heat presses further and further in. Your crying, and your whispering, “Stop, stop.” 

“There’s handsome,” the dark voice says. “I’ve gotta go hide somewhere, does he carry after hours? I think I’ll find out.” 

“Oh,” you say, feeling sickly. You attempt to curl into yourself, when did you turn onto your back? “No,” you mumble, lips wet with something hot. 

“Honey?” a voice asks. 

“Honey,” you repeat, woozy again, darkness falling in all over again, where it stays. 

Honey, are you in here?

—

The window behind Aaron’s shoulder is cold. Rain patters fast like floods, thunder occasionally chewing through clouds, and Jack Hotchner cries sluggish tears into his dad’s shoulder. 

Aaron has his eyes closed. They’ve been at this for a while. “Shh, shh shh, buddy,” he says softly, patting the bottom of Jack’s back. He’d sway him back and forth if his arms weren’t about to fall off. 

Jack squirms closer, no room left between them. 

“I know it’s scary,” Aaron says. 

Jack just cries. This approach of quiet support isn’t working; Jack isn’t a baby that needs to be put to sleep, he’s a panicking little kid, and Aaron needs to change gears. He ushers him away from his chest and crosses his arm behind Jack’s back. Careful, he shifts Jack’s weight to free his other arm and brings his fingers up to the silky brown hair dropping onto Jack’s forehead. 

“She’s okay,” Aaron says, stroking Jack’s hair. His little forehead is clammy. “She’s not hurting. I know it looks scary, honey, but… she’s just resting.” 

Jack looks him in the eyes. “Her face.” 

“I know.” He nods emphatically. “It’s hard to see. Blood isn’t nice. You don’t have to see her again today, not if it’s too scary.” 

Jack lifts a hand to Aaron’s face. Clumsy but with clear attempts to be careful, he wipes at the skin under Aaron’s eye. Aaron bites back a smile. 

“I look tired,” he says. 

“Yeah.” Jack brings his hand back to wipe his eyes. He sobs as he does it. Aaron can’t describe the ache it gives him to see it. 

“Buddy, I’ll do it. Let me wipe your face. I can do it.” 

Jack drops his hands. Aaron turns his hand and wipes the smudge of Jack’s tears from hot cheeks, testing the waters with a little smile. 

“I couldn’t see you under all those tears.” 

Jack does a little smile back. “Yes you can.” 

“I couldn’t! But now I’ve wiped all your face I can see you again. You’re handsome, did we know that?” 

Jack giggles. He sniffles, and he presses his palm to Aaron’s neck. “I don’t want her to be sad, dad.” 

“She’s going to be sad, because something scary happened, but it’s okay. I’m gonna take care of her.” 

Aaron would offer to take him home, but they can’t go home. They may not go home for a long time —the team is still trying to work out how someone made it into the apartment without alerting the building’s security or Aaron’s internal system. And then escaped again without Aaron’s notice. Until then, Aaron has to make a decision about a safe house, for himself, Jack, and Jess, though she's extremely unreceptive to the idea. 

Aaron has to look after Jack, and he needs to take care of you. 

“What do you think, bud?” he asks, cupping Jack’s head in his hand. “Do you want to go home?” 

“You said I can give her a hug.” 

“If it’s too scary, we don’t have to. I don’t want you to get upset again.” 

“I’m not scared. I want to give her the hug,” he says. 

Aaron pulls him in for a hug of his own. “Okay, buddy. Just try to think of it like this. She’s where she needs to be to get better. Everybody here is looking after her. She’ll be okay soon.” 

Aaron looks over Jack’s head down the hospital hallway. It’s a quiet ward, and here between the main ward doors and the hallway that leads down to the individual rooms there’s complete silence. Night is approaching quickly again, and with it comes Aaron’s panic. Your head turned into a puddle, your face lax of expression in the dark. He can’t stop finding the women he loves bloody and on their backs. 

“Ready?” he murmurs. “Can you walk with me? My arms are tired.”

“Yeah.” 

Aaron puts Jack down gently onto his feet. He neatens his hair, chucking him under the chin as he goes to see his smile. He’s so pretty, like Haley was, with shiny eyes. He’s a beautiful kid. Aaron takes his hand and together they make their way down the hallway to your room. 

You’re sleeping. 

Aaron herds Jack through the door and to the plastic covered chair by your side, where he lifts him up and sits him down. He stays between you both. Jack isn’t scared of you, just the blood, but he wants to show Jack that he’s going to protect him from anything he needs protecting from. He also desperately wants to touch you, and reassure himself that you’re still breathing. 

He looks for your hand. Your pinky finger is splinted, but he can take it with care, give the palm of it a squeeze. 

The blood matted in your hair has finally been washed away after a turbulent day, as well as the staining that marred your face. Your nose is broken, and looks it, the bruises so fierce your eyes have turned puffy and your top lip has inflamed. There are second degree burns in multiple places but most affectedly on your chest. There’s a stab wound at your hip, allegedly done with a small blade. It nicked your small intestine. The bandages laid over you are a lump under your hospital gown. 

Aaron looks at you, and he feels a passionate disdain for himself. He wishes he could… be someone else. Someone who doesn’t have such a deep connection to a job that hurts the people around him, over and over. Haley used to say he was obsessed with being the hero, but this doesn’t feel heroic. 

“Do you wanna give her your cuddle?” he asks softly. 

Jack stays sitting. 

He’ll have to give it to you himself. Careful, Aaron leans down over your prone body and presses a half kiss to your ear, the only place that won’t hurt. 

You have an IV drip going into your arm, painkillers, an ECG monitor to the left. The room is white but busy, you’re a burst of colour against it all, your cuts and bruises, the evidence of violence he can’t remove. Aaron’s tired. He perches on the gap of bed by your leg and holds your hand, turning to Jack, who watches with a frown. 

“She’s sleeping,” Aaron says. 

“When can she come home?” 

“In a few days.” He feels the pad of your hand, terrified of your broken finger but needing to hold a part of you. 

“Why is she sleeping all day?” 

Traumatic experiences are exhausting. “I think she might want to be alone, so she sleeps.” 

“Should we go?” 

Aaron shakes his head. “I think we should stay. When she wakes up again she’ll be happy to see us, because we’re not strangers.” 

“We’re family,” Jack says. He’d liked that, when the nurse asked you how Aaron was related to you. Family only.

“We’re her family,” Aaron agrees. 

If he somehow miraculously fell out of love with you, you’d still be family to them. You’ve given so much of your heart since you met them. Aaron wants everything you have to give. 

You wake in a slow, slow upheaval. It takes effort on your part, the opening of sore eyes, the dreary decision to face your pain. Your hand jumps in his but relaxes when he shushes you, your slimmer fingers stilling under his rubbing thumb. For a split second, you keep your gaze half-lidded, jaw soft, like you’ve been indulging in a stolen nap. 

Then your breath catches and you screw your eyes tightly. 

“You’re okay,” he says, quietly, and not as lightly as he means to, “you’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” in quick succession. 

“Hurts,” you say, and gasp, a whine stuck in your throat. 

He doesn’t know what to do. Jack shouldn’t watch this but he can’t leave you alone. “It’s okay,” he says, holding your wrist to stop it climbing up your bruised face. 

You were worse the first time you woke up. Catatonic, then sobbing. You mumble and whimper now, pain threading goosebumps down your arms. 

“It hurts too much,” you say. A sob falls out of you like you’ve been ripped open. 

Aaron doesn’t think, but an instinct sparks. The pain, to hit you right out of the gate like this, to make you say something like that when you’ve always always made your problems small, must be torture. It must feel new and sudden all over again. 

Aaron checks that Jack is alright and leaves the room. He looks down one hallway and then the other, but there’s no nurse around —he races to the reception desk and begs the two nurses there for help with you, “She’s in intense pain,” he says, grasping the desk. 

The nurse he’s more familiar with clears her throat. “Mr. Hotchner, she’s already had enough motrin for two people at your request, she really shouldn’t need–”

“Pain is just as important to treat as the injury.” 

A second nurse puts her salad down with raised brows. “Do you want to overdose her?” 

“Excuse me?” 

Aaron has always seen himself as a gentleman, but the argument that ensues is tricky to navigate while remaining respectful, and he’s no closer to better treatment for you by the end of it. He gives each nurse a disapproving glower and takes his phone from his pocket, turning on the spot, ready to call whoever it is he needs to call for a second opinion. He’s not gonna listen to you cry when there’s no need. 

He pushes the door open with the phone still clutched in his other hand. Jack’s climbed onto your bed. He cuddles your face, sitting by your pillows and bent over you protectively. 

Aaron lets out a breath. 

“It’s okay,” he says, his arm behind your head and his arm on your shoulder. “W’gonna take care of you.” 

“I know,” you say, crying without sound, shaking under his arms.

His cheek smushes against your forehead. Your eyes are closed and your face braced for contact Jack doesn’t make, careful not to hurt you as he rubs his cheek into your skin. Your blankets are falling off of you from the squirming and your bruises shine with tears in the light, but Jack has calmed you down some. 

Aaron shouldn’t have left Jack with you. He’s been so scatterbrained since he found you when he should be the opposite, but Jack is doing better than Aaron managed alone. 

“I’m sorry for crying,” you say slowly. “I’m hurting, but it’s not bad. I’m okay.” 

“That’s good. You have a big scratch on your face, and bruises.” 

“I know.” 

“Dad says you have a bruise on your tummy too.” 

“I got lots of bruises, but it’s okay. Don’t worry about me.” You bring your hand up injured and uncaring to rub his leg. “You’re being a really brave boy, thank you.” 

A tear rolls down your cheek. 

“It’s teamwork,” Jack says. “I hug you and you hug me.” 

“Is that what you want? You want a hug?” 

“I want to go home,” he says, hugging you harder. 

You grasp his arm loosely where it’s just under your chin. “Jack, can you move your arm?” you whisper. 

Your breath comes quickly, but Jack moves his arm away from your bruised neck and you try to calm yourself down. 

Aaron jolts himself back into action. “Sweetheart,” he says, rushing to sit Jack back and give you more space. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” 

He watches. Not sure what to say. Not sure saying anything is wise. You squint at him through your lashes, eyes opening slowly, your mouth a line pressed hard to stop from crying. 

“I think it's time for Jack to go home,” he suggests gently. 

“Yeah,” you say, eyes swimming with tears. 

“No.” Jack squeezes your head again, to your panic. 

“Jack, buddy, please don’t touch her neck,” Aaron says, grabbing Jack from your pillow. 

He erupts into tears again. Frantic and vying for you, Aaron tries to calm him and he kicks against his chest, tears turning to disgruntled sobs at not getting what he wants. You wince, pressing your face completely into the pillow. 

Aaron carries Jack from your room, phone in hand. 

—

Is she breathing? Can she talk? 

I don’t– I don’t know, I don’t– She’s breathing. Honey, can you hear me? I don’t know what to stop. I don’t know where it’s all coming from. 

Where’s the worst of the blood? 

It’s everywhere. 

Abdominal? Chest? 

I can’t tell. I can’t tell. 

Mr. Hotchner, you can’t panic. Does she have a chest wound?

Yes. Yes, but– 

Is she conscious? How’s her pulse? Be ready to start chest compressions. 

Honey, can you hear me? 

Your name said clearly. 

“Hey, can you hear me?” 

“Yes,” you murmur. 

“If you need a minute, that’s okay.” 

You cover your mouth with your hand. Emily Prentiss has a soft voice like your boyfriend’s when she wants to have it. She’s never spoken to you like this, none of his colleagues have, but since the incident, everybody treats you like you’re made of glass. 

Cognitive interviews are meant to happen immediately after an accident, but you weren’t up for company. Aaron promised this would be on your terms, that Emily is the most practised, and that she’s reaped the most information from them than the rest of the team. So far, it’s worked to drag bad memories to the surface. 

“Maybe we should start from the beginning.” 

There isn’t a beginning. There’s just conversation. Aaron’s hand on your heart and his shaky voice, so unlike him.

“Okay.” 

Emily reaches for your hand. She smiles, and her nice features get nicer. That’s another thing they all share, good looks. “Okay. What did you notice, in the kitchen? It’ll help if you close your eyes,” she reminds you. 

You close your eyes. 

“What stuck out?” 

“Nothing,” you murmur. “I’ve been in there lots of times, and nothing ever changes.” 

“Nothing? Not even the drawings on the fridge?” 

“Jack’s particular about his best work, even if I think they should all be on display.” 

Emily’s voice turns to a shard of itself. “What did you do? Can you take me through it step by step? Make yourself a cup of hot chocolate.” 

“I never got that far.”

“What did you do?” 

“I filled the kettle.” 

“What kettle?” 

You don’t understand the need for specificity, but you answer. “Aaron got it for me, when he… he told me he loved me, and when we got home he’d bought me a kettle and a bunch of stuff to make my being there easier. The kettle, because… he said something about superheated water. How the microwave can be dangerous, and this would be easier than a pan.” 

“Alright. Okay, and what did you do after that?” 

“I put the kettle on the stove.” You lit the burner, and heat kissed your palm, and suddenly the room had felt cold. “I got goosebumps.” 

“When?” 

“The kettle started to whistle, and it was cold.”

“And then–”

“Then he grabbed me.” 

“Yeah,” Emily says softly. 

You touch your nose. “I tried… He didn’t feel like a person. He didn’t feel like someone I was fighting, it was just painful.” 

“Like he was quick on his feet?” 

“He was silent. I didn’t hear him until I made him fall.” 

“How big did he feel?” 

Your stomach churns. Big. He’d felt big. 

Where’s the worst of the blood?

“He said he was going to hide,” you remember. 

“He said that? He said ‘hide’?

“Yeah. And he asked me if Aaron carries after hours.” 

“When was this?” 

It’s a headache. You try to remember more, because that’s what they need right now. If you ever want to go home, if you want Jack to go home, you need to remember more. The BAU are good, but nobody can make a map out of slivers. 

“That was at the end,” you say. 

“After he stabbed you?” 

You wince. “Yes. After.” 

“You’re doing so good,” she praises, “I just want to fill in the gaps.” 

“I can’t remember. I was unconscious.” 

“When Hotch found you?” 

“No, before.”

“Before?” she asks. 

You’re sick of sitting there with your eyes closed. Sick of your hands shaking with nowhere to hide them, and sick of feeling sick, your nausea as present as the stinging pain of your burned wrist against your sleeve each time you move. 

You open your eyes and look around the conference room for something interesting. How nice would it be to think of something else for a few minutes?

“He called it handiwork when he cut me. Asked if I thought Aaron would like it,” you say, bordering monotonous as your gaze fizzles, unfocused, across the room. 

“Okay, Y/N. Okay. I know you’re tired.” She reaches for your hands to squeeze at the same time. “You did really well. Any details at all are details we can use to find him.” 

You’re not in the mood for talking anymore. Tears burn your eyes, waiting for a blink to set them loose. 

“I want to see Aaron,” you confess quietly. 

“I’ll find him for you.” Emily stands but bends, the dark of her hair a contrast to her pale face. She’s lovely, and her hand is gentle on yours. “Are you okay? Can I get you something to eat?” 

So Aaron’s not keeping that to himself. “I want to see him, please.” 

“Yeah. Okay.” 

This is a horrible room. It’s not their fault, but the big white board is tacked with bad photos of grisly cases —currently your own. You stare at a photograph of your blood in the kitchen and don’t know what to do. Should you look away? You hadn’t realised you bled so much. 

You turn your chair toward the door. Emily looks back as she leaves and smiles at you softly, but your eyes are already moving to the smaller dry erase board by the doorway. It’s ‘Hotch’s turn to clean up on Thursdays. How strange that they make the boss clean the conference room. 

You can picture him picking up coffee cups and wiping down the table. You can always picture Aaron. 

You can see him hovering over you, his hand pressed to the bloody mess of your hip to stop the blood. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper to yourself, wanting to break from the memory, following Aaron’s example. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.” You repeat it into your hands, head tilting down. You sink until your knuckles touch your knees. 

That’s all he says when you panic. He’ll say it over and over again until you can breathe right. I have you, I have you, you’re okay. 

He’s much quieter this time. You hear his footsteps, his familiar gait, your head pounding too hard to move. Aaron makes a sound between a sigh and a hum, like he’s saying a sorry hello as he kneels in front of you. His hand takes your face, rubs softly over your ear. 

“My head’s just hurting,” you murmur. 

He doesn’t respond. You sit together for some time as your mind races with bad memories, your fear a rush of goosebumps down the lengths of your arms and thighs. It’s hard not to think about what happened, mostly because you’re still a walking bruise, your stitches sting when you move, the blisters on your chest ache, all of it inescapable. But it’s your anxiety that plagues you most. You’re in a constant state of dread. 

You had no idea someone could hurt you as badly as they had until it happened, and now you’re desperate not to be hurt again. 

“You have to look after me,” you say eventually, throat sore with how awful it feels to say. 

“Yes, I do.” 

“Please don’t let me get hurt again.” 

Total silence. You sniffle at his lack of an answer, only slightly comforted by his hands at your wrists now, pulling them from your face. “Let’s sit up,” he says, standing himself. “Come on, let’s sit up. You shouldn’t be putting so much pressure on your abdomen.” 

You lean back and everything aches like a stretch after a long run or a bad night’s sleep. 

Aaron pulls a chair next to yours. When he sits, your knees are pressed in between one another’s thighs, so close he could hug you. You might need one.  He’s given you a ridiculous amount of them each day, some for him and some for you. 

He has with him a takeout box and a bottle of water. 

“Here,” he says, popping the seal of the drink. “Three sips.” 

You feel like crying, but you drink. He opens the takeout box to reveal a normal looking sandwich already cut into two halves, but he takes a plastic knife from his pocket, peels away the wrapping, and cuts the sandwich again into quarters. 

“I’m gonna be sick,” you say. 

“No, you’re not. You won’t be.” He presses the sandwich flat with his hands and holds it to you until you take it. “Please, Y/N. You only have to eat what you can.” 

“I don’t want it.” 

“Please.” 

“Did Emily tell you about my interview?” 

He reaches for your thigh. Mildly unlike him when you aren’t at home. You assume it to be a tether for your sake. “No. Is there something you think I should know?” 

“I don’t want to say it again.” 

“Then you don’t have to. Someone will tell me when I get back.” 

You pinch the fluffy bread in your hands, eyeing wearily at the wet insides. “Can I come with you?” 

“You’re having trouble in the cognitive interviews, you won’t want to hear what we have to say.” 

You split the sandwich in half again, watching as salad and mayonnaise ooze from the bread. 

“If you don’t eat, you won’t get better,” he says, a touch stern. 

“I can’t eat when you won’t let me come with you.” 

“I’m not the only person capable of protecting you. I…” He circles your wrist before you can make a mess. “Can you please eat it?” 

You take a bite to appease him, your stomach roiling, food wet and cold on your tongue. You eat the whole quarter queasily, a lump at the back of your throat begging you to stop. 

Aaron takes an empty hand and rubs it tenderly. “Thank you,” he says, that rubbing turned more forceful, his hand journeying to your elbow and back again. 

It’s sweet how attuned he is to your needing his touch, but mortifying. This entire experience had been embarrassing from start to end. Couldn’t defend yourself, can’t get to grips with it, and can’t keep anything down. Aaron looks at you and your bruises and you wonder if he’s seeing you with blood matted in your hair, or hearing you beg for him to get you something stronger. All you’d wanted was a sedative. 

“I’m far from the only person capable of protecting you,” he says. 

“You saved me,” you say. You mean it in every sense of the world. 

“…This is my fault.” 

“I want to be with you,” you say honestly. “I don’t feel okay by myself right now, I just need you, or I feel so sick I wish that I died.” The anxiety is marrow deep. 

Aaron looks gutted. “Don’t say that.” His hand goes back to yours, back to tenderness. “I know you're scared.” 

“Then why won’t you listen?” you ask weakly. 

“I’m listening to you,” he says, his tone a dulcet, pleasing softness you’ve never ever heard before, “I need you to be safe, and I need Jack to be safe, and I can’t do that while he’s still out there.” His brows pinch together, agonised. “I’m sorry you’re scared. I didn’t protect you. But I won’t let anything happen to you again.

“I love you. Please believe that I’m doing what’s best for you right now.” 

You turn your head away. He cups your cheek regardless. 

“I love you,” he says again. 

“I know.” 

“No, I love you.” 

He’s saying sorry.

“I love you,” you mumble back. 

“How are you feeling? Is anything hurting more? Weeping?” 

Your eyes are heavy at his touch. “You only looked at me a couple of hours ago.” 

“Alright. Can I kiss you? I need to go.” 

You don’t answer. Aaron kisses your chin, your jawline, the type of roving, teasing kisses he’d give as he squeezed your sides, only he doesn’t squeeze you, he can’t without hurting you. His hand hesitates just above your deepest wound. 

His bright kiss works to spark a modicum of life back into you. Not a lot, but enough. It was likely his intention, some quick prodding kisses to remind you of something happy between you both. 

You curl your fingers over his hand and turn your face for a chaste peck. He smiles, the curve of his lips evident and relieving against yours. 

“Someone will take you back to the safe house, okay? Give Jack a kiss for me,” he says. 

You nod. Aaron strokes your cheek. 

—

Your assailant could have killed you while you were vulnerable, but he didn’t. “He assumes he’ll have another chance,” Emily surmises. 

“That’s cocky,” JJ mutters. 

“It’s telling,” Aaron says. “But he won’t.” 

The coaching has been extensive. You, sick, a breath from tears and hurting, your shoulders in his hands and his grip too tight. If someone tells you I’m dead, you wait. If Morgan tells you I’m dead, you ask Rossi. If he says I’m dead, you ask Emily. You can’t believe the first thing someone says. No one is going to move you from this safe house to another without seeing me first. If I do get hurt, you and Jack will be moved separately. You will always get my confirmation before you’re moved. 

I’m not gullible, you’d said, wincing at his sharp tone. 

It’s not about that. People will lie, and they will lie well. They will talk their way into the house if you let them. You can’t let them. 

I won’t. 

He’s racing against a countdown, because no matter what he says, what you know, or how many agents wait outside your house, sometimes it’s a force of will. 

Foyet didn’t need much more than that. 

He admittedly feels on surer footing knowing where you are. The decision to guard you without putting you in WITSEC is aching and scary but better, too. He knows where you are. He can be there in ten minutes. No guessing games, but no hiding for you either. 

Your dread is taking over everything you do. Today’s the first day since you came home almost two weeks ago that you could function without a live-in nurse or Jess there to look after Jack, and already he’s worried, because he’d convinced you total honesty was what’s best for the both of you, and so your texts are candid. 

One an hour for his sake, more if you're up to it.

Threw up my beta blockers. Jack misses you, he wants to make you a Lego boat and fishing rod, but I’m not sure how to do it. Please make sure you eat dinner. 

Your next message makes him smile, thankfully. I’m kidding about the dinner thing. Ha. I had one of those gels you got for me, and Jack wants fries, so I’m making waffle fries. 

He texts back quickly. Eat dinner. Please tell Jack I miss him too, and don’t worry about the boat, he’ll work it out. Then, feeling awful, he adds, I love you

Aaron should go home. He’d feel better if he knew he was there to help you keep your medication down, but if he leaves… He knows his team will give you everything they have, but he has more. He can fix this. 

He can’t fix this, god, his head hurts badly. You’re covered in cuts and bruises and burns and he thinks he can make up for that? You’ve been brutalised. Aaron can’t believe this is happening again. 

He rubs his brow. 

“You okay?” Emily asks. 

When he looks up, JJ is gone. 

“I’m fine.” 

“It’s okay if you’re not.” 

He’s not fine, but he knows what she’s asking. “I’m okay enough to do this,” he says. 

It’s hard not to confuse you with memory, your hurting similar to his own, your situation one that he’s already lived. Haley will haunt him for life. It doesn’t usually feel as punishing as he fears he deserves: he gets to remember the best parts of her everyday. He sees her in Jack all the time. He sees her in you, occasionally —you’ll touch his hair or rub his arm like she would’ve done, and it doesn’t make him miss her any more than he does, he’s not in the business of wishing you weren’t yourself, he loves you, but he remembers her. Aaron remembers how he failed her every day. 

He can’t fail you, too. 

“Is it ever easy?” Emily asks. 

Aaron looks around for a bottle of water. “Is what?” 

“Being in love.” 

He thinks about it. “I must make it look hard.” 

She laughs softly. “Sometimes, yeah.” 

Maybe that’s not fair, then, to you. For him to make it seem difficult to love you. To fail to correct Emily when she asks. 

He chooses his words carefully. “Loving her is the easiest thing in the world. But… I continue to work a job I know makes me hard to love in return.” And that puts you in danger. 

It doesn’t feel wrong to be sincere. Perhaps it’s easier with Emily. She saw so much of him during Foyet, and she’s family, truly. He can tell her how intense it’s felt. 

“Well, it doesn’t seem hard for her,” Emily says. 

He shakes his head. 

She continues regardless, “Even during her cognitive, she mentioned the first time you told her you loved her. When it was over she wanted to see you over anything else.” 

But I put her here, he wants to say. Or doesn’t want to say at all, but instead knows with surety. 

“She can’t eat if I’m not home,” he says. What a thing to do to someone. “It’s my fault.” 

Emily smiles, hair slipping off of her shoulder as her expression turns to playfulness. “I think you’re seeing it all wrong. Something bad happened to her, and you’re so safe to her that you make it better when you’re with her. That’s not fault, Hotch. Just love.” 

He turns his attention back to the board without another word. 

—

When the day comes, when they find the man who hurt you, you’re sitting at home with Jack Hotchner in your lap. You’re laughing at his laughing, cartoon fish on the TV, and Aaron’s got a gun in his hand fifty miles away. You both giggle, nearly in hysterics as the safe house living room glows pink and red, Jack’s favourite character swimming hurriedly across the screen, as Aaron negotiates the arrest. 

Usually capable of mediation, Aaron finds his patience completely unravelled. He offers the UnSub two choices: he surrenders now, immediately, and he keeps his life, or he deliberates and Aaron kills him. 

He has reason to believe the UnSub will try again, of course. Will keep hurting you until it sticks. 

He goes home satisfied.

“Dad’s home!” you say excitedly, your movie long finished, your thighs numb and stitches stinging where Jack has leaned against you. You encourage him off of you as the front door closes, the cold air from outside rushing in. 

“Honey?” Aaron calls. 

“Yeah!” You stumble into a standing position, sure you look about as disgusting as you have since the situation began, promptly sitting back down as head rush hits. 

Jack races for the door, meeting Aaron in the hallway with a whoosh. “Hey!” 

“Hi, junior g-man, what are you doing?” 

“We watched Finding Nemo,” Jack says, “and now I’m hugging you, duh.” 

“Duh. Well, I need to talk to Y/N for five minutes. Can you wash your hands for dinner?” 

“Yeah.” 

“You okay?” he asks. 

“I’m fine.”

You hear the sound of a light kiss, and then Jack rockets across the hallway and up the stairs. Aaron walks into the doorway, tie still knotted but with no suit jacket, and you know what he’s going to say before he says it. He wears a strange expression.

“You got him?” you ask. 

He puts a white bag on the coffee table, looking down at you fondly. “I got him.” 

“How did you find him?” 

He crouches down in front of you. He’s so careful to be harmless to you now, so tentative. “You’re not the only woman he hurt. We dealt with him in the past. From the information you gave Emily during your interview, and the information he left behind, we found him… If you weren’t as brave as you are, I couldn’t have kept you and Jack safe.” He holds your knee. “Thank you.” 

You stare at him. Staring, wondering what he means. “Brave?” 

“Brave.” 

“I’m a coward.” 

He shakes his head. “No. You’re not.” 

All you've done for days is cry and throw up and bleed, literally. You’ve ruined clothes and sheets, thrown up in his lap, terrified and aching. Each time was met with the same gentleness. A kiss on the cheek, or a hand rubbing your back. Is that bravery? You feel like a baby. 

Aaron’s brow is relaxed. He takes your two legs into his hands, and he looks at you with a reverence that leaves you breathless. 

“You’re hurt forever because of me,” he says quietly, you strain to hear him, “because of who I am, and what I choose to be.” 

“How can you say that? It’s not your fault.” 

“It wouldn’t have happened to you if I hadn’t missed his MO the first time.” 

“You’re not putting the knife in anyone’s hand,” you argue. 

“But it keeps happening.” 

His hair shines dark and wet. It must be raining outside, the safe house walls are thick, the windows shuttered permanently, you haven’t heard a peep. You stroke it back from his forehead. 

“Remember… when we first got together, and you told me you were sorry for how hard being with you could be. And I said it was okay, that it wasn’t hard, and you said it would be?” 

“I remember,” he says, practically mouths. 

“I was so afraid when...” You swallow roughly. “I still am. But not– not of you. Not of what you can do. When you told me it was going to be hard, I thought, well, it’s worth it, because I really liked you then and I love you now.” Tears collect in your eyes. Safe. I’m safe. “And you look after me, so– so–” 

You stop as your voice turns to glass, worried you’ll make a fool of yourself and cry in his hands. 

“I didn’t want this for you,” he says. 

“Nobody wants this. Bad things happen to everyone, but who has someone like you to look after them?” 

He breathes out heavily. “Please… don’t cry.” 

You wipe your cheeks, taking a lengthy pause before you say, “I’m okay now.” 

He looks at you in silence. 

“Come and sit with me,” you say, scrubbing your cheeks, hot tears cooling on the backs of your hands. “Your knees.” 

He actually smiles. It changes his entire face. “What about my knees?” 

Aaron sits on the couch next to you atop Jack’s blanket, a bag of pretzels tipping between your leg and his. You attempt to rake his damp hair into submission as his fingers run against your thighs, fishing for pretzels to put back into the bag. 

You’d like for him to grab you and kiss you harshly, give you one of his straight jacket hugs, some roughhousing, but you won’t get that from him until you're better, and even then, it’s up in the air. So much has changed. 

But not everything. 

“I love you,” you murmur, fingertips scratching down behind his ear to the back of his head. 

He turns to you, sagging with relief and exhaustion. “Kiss?” he asks quietly. 

You nod. He holds your cheek, and you close your eyes at the same time for a kiss. It’s not a lot, but you have time. He can give you another one when you’re both better recovered. 

He pulls away. You open your eyes, finding his closed, his face downturned. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

“Was Jack good?” 

“Jack’s always good.” 

“Did the nurse have anything to say about your chest?” 

“She said it’s healing okay. That I need to use, uh, scar patches when they start to scab.” 

“I can get those.” 

“I know, I knew you would.” 

He gathers you up for a hug. For a moment, you think he’ll move on, that the end of your nightmare will kill his remorse, but he breathes in, nose wedged against your cheek. 

“Do you think that tonight, we could pretend it didn’t happen?” You’d like to just sit with him, press your hand to his chest and doze. It’s the first night in a while that you’ll feel completely. 

“Yeah. I can do that.” He hugs you rather tightly. “Do you want to see your present?” he asks, relaxing his grip. 

“My present?” 

He grabs the bag on the coffee table and places it in your lap. “I’m worried it’ll remind you of bad memories, but I wanted you to have nice things then, and I still do.” 

In the bag, there’s a pair of pyjamas. Very different to the ones you’d been wearing when you were attacked, they were girly and sweet, soft in your hands, these are sturdy. Still soft, but thick. The shirt is short-sleeved and the pants cuffed at the ankles, a hoodie tucked underneath them, and a packet of minky socks. 

“Thank you,” you say. 

Thanks for everything, for saving you twice, for taking care of you at your worst, and for wanting you to have something comfortable to wear at the end of it. To have experienced an abjectly cruel battering will leave its marks in your forever, but you meant what you told him. He looks after you, and you love him. 

He kisses your shoulder. “You don't need to say that.” 

He doesn’t add anything else, his nose pressed to your shoulder, his hand on your hip. Whatever goes unsaid can be felt in the other’s touch. 

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

thank u for reading!! it’s been a long time since I wrote a fic for hotch and it’s hard to write him being vulnerable but I hope this is alright anyways and that you enjoyed :D please consider reblogging if you did enjoy it (cos that way my fics get shown to more people <3) ❤️

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

[dashofghost]

MY BODY AND MY BLOOD

or, there's only one bed. mdni.

Winter came early, earlier than it should have, before the heat could kick in throughout the middle of nowhere base somewhere in Russia. The day of travel weighed heavily on your shoulders, exhaustion seeking into your bones. You wanted nothing more than a shower and to fall into bed and sleep for the next week.

The universe, unfortunately, had other plans.

"Right," Price sighed, "barracks are full, we've got to share." His eyebrows furrowed as groans arose from Soap and Gaz, "can it, lads. You two are together, get used to it." Soap rolled his eyes dramatically, yelping as Gaz elbowed him in the side.

"You two," Price sighs, pointing at you and Ghost, "you'll be together. Rooms 142 and 143, don't care who gets who. Just show up tomorrow." You could feel Ghost behind you, hovering like some gargantuan bat. Oh god. You were going to have to share a room with him.

You're both quiet as the team heads down the hallway, Gaz and Soap's banter loud enough for the both of you. Price dismisses you with a gruff goodnight, all too eager to lock himself in his room.

"This is us." Ghost's timbre catches you off guard, and you start, head whipping over your shoulder. The lines around his eyes crinkle, or at least, you think they do, behind the mask and the paint.

"Sorry," he mutters, bowing his head, "didn't mean to scare ya, love."

Love. The nickname, however insignificant, paints your face with a flush. You try to hide it by pushing the door to your shared room open.

It's tiny, with a cramped bathroom attached by the foot of the bed. The only bed. Shit.

You laugh, a hollow, humorless laugh, the culmination of exhaustion and frustration and longing. Ghost groans, burying his head in his hands.

"I'll take the floor," he sighs, but you cut him off immediately.

"No, I'll take the floor. Where would you even fit on the floor? There's not enough floor to fit you," you snap back. Ghost glowers at you through his mask.

"You'll catch your death on the floor," he fires at you, crossing his arms over his chest. A draft blows through the room, as if to echo his point.

"At least I'll fit on the floor," you counter, mimicking his crossed arms. He stares you down, biting his lip as you stare him down right back.

"Fine," he says shortly, "we'll share. Pillow wall work for you?" You nod, moving to arrange the pillows down the bed, trying to quell the excitement brewing in your stomach. You are colleges. This is strictly professional.

You can't help but let your eyes catch on him as he strips his vest and gear, until he's left in thermal underclothes and his balaclava, fingers hesitating at the hem.

"I won't look. If you want to take it off," you offer. He snorts, toying with the fabric.

"Wouldn't work. Besides, you've seen me before. After the grenade," he reminds you, wincing as he pulls his mask off.

He's just as beautiful as you remembered, all soft hazel eyes and sharp, angular cheekbones. His buzzcut has grown out since the last time you saw him, just on the verge of being unkempt. You're staring, and he knows you're staring, but he lets you, throwing his head back with a groan. His neck arches beautifully, and you want to cover it with marks.

You're quick to shed your own gear, trying to look anywhere but his face, but you feel his eyes linger on the arc of your shoulders, the hollow of your neck, the curve of your hips. You climb under the thin blankets, curling as far away from Ghost's side as he turns the lights out.

The bed squeaks as he lays down, adjusting the pillows. He's so big he takes up all of his side and almost part of yours. He moves his legs and they brush against your knee.

"Sorry," he mutters, pulling his calf away like it had been burned. Sparks tingle up your legs.

"'S fine, Ghost," you murmur back. The bed squeaks again as he rolls over to face you, head on the pillow just inches from yours. You want to kiss him. He's so close.

"Do you remember what I told you? After the grenade?" he asks. You nod, but stay quiet as he sighs softly. His hand twitches, like he wanted to reach out for you but stopped himself.

"When it's like this," he breathes, his voice sweet, "when it's just you and me, it's Simon. Call me Simon." He's so soft, in a way you've never seen him before, and you nod, moving ever so close to him.

"Alright," you breathe, "goodnight, Simon."

"G'night, sweetheart."

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

When you wake, it's freezing. Ghost- Simon- is snoring next to you, heat radiating off of him like a goddamn furnace. You curl your body into itself, but shivers rack your shoulders anyway. You groan in frustration, glaring up at the ceiling.

Simon stirs next to you, rolling over groggily. His arm brushes against yours, and he winces, thumb brushing over the skin.

"You're freezing," he whispers, cupping your hand in both of his. Your arc towards him, relishing in the warmth that emanated from him, and he smiles, soft and sweet.

"I'm fine," you mutter, "go back to sleep." You prop yourself up on one elbow, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"Don't be stupid," Simon breathes, "come here. I've got enough warmth for the both of us."

You shove the pillow wall aside so fast it makes Simon chuckle as pillows hit the floor. He wraps his arms around you, pressing your back to his chest, hitching a leg over your hip. He's so warm, heat surrounding you on every side as he tucks his head into the hollow of your shoulder.

His hands rest on your stomach, thumb rubbing the exposed skin of your stomach where your shirt has slid up. You wrap your arms around his, holding them to your chest. He feels safe.

"Better?" Simon asks, pulling you closer to his chest. You nod, sleep already creeping over you as you feel him smile against your neck. His thumb rubs soothing patterns on your skin as you slowly drift to sleep.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

When you wake again, it's still dark. You're facing Simon, clinging to one of his arms with your head buried in his chest. He's rubbing your back, and as you look up at him, his eyes are open.

"What time is it?" you whisper, stretching slightly, wrapping your arms around his neck. He glances down at his watch, toying his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Five thirty-seven," he responds, tucking an unruly strand of hair behind your ear. His hand lingers, tracing your cheek and cupping it in his callused hand. Your eyes flick down to his lips and back again.

"Simon-"

"Can I kiss you?" His voice is ragged with desperation, pupils blown wide. With a soft gasp, you nod.

"Please."

He kisses you softly, tenderly. You pull him closer, hands interlocking at the back of his neck, one trailing down to his cheek. He pulls away, resting his forehead against yours as he catches his breath.

"Oh," he breathes, almost against your lips. He pushes himself up against the headboard, a spark growing in his eyes as he pulls you into his lap.

His second kiss is desperate, his teeth sinking into your lower lip, hands tangling in your hair. You arch in his grip as his hands drift to bracket your hips, your body flushing as he pulls you even closer. Your nails dig into his back and he moans against your lips, you crave the feeling of his bare skin against your fingers even though the cold prohibited it.

You gasp softly as Simon slides his thigh between your legs, cheeks flushed as he takes you in between kisses. His hands are greedy, one slipping dangerously low on your hips before slipping past the waistband of your thermal pants.

"Can I?" he asks quietly, looking up at you from where you're perched on his thigh. His pupils are completely blown, hair messy and cheeks flushed. He looks halfway to heaven and all he's done is kiss you.

"Oh, god, please-" you breathe, burying your head in his shoulder as his hands slides down, spreading you open as well as he could before his thumb found your clit, rubbing tight circles against it. You cling to his shoulders, teeth biting down on his shoulder to stifle your moans. Simon gasps, hands moving your hips to help you grind against his thigh.

"There you go," he whispers, head thrown back as you rub against him, "there you go, lovie, that's it." You whine, rutting your hips harder at his praise. His free hand dips underneath your shirt, crawling up your ribs.

"Si- si, feels so good," you moan, biting on your lip to try to keep your moans down. Simon cups your breast tenderly, pushing your top up your chest.

"Fuck, you're so gorgeous, angel," Simon swears. His lips trail down your neck, resting just above your nipple. His mouth rests open, tongue heavy on his lower teeth as the question forms on his lips.

"Sweetheart, can I-"

Three knocks echo on the door, and you jump, loosing your balance and almost colliding with the bedpost as you scramble to get off Simon's lap. Simon desperately adjusts his pants, trying to hide his raging hard on as Price swings the door open.

"Ghost, you're needed down in command," he orders, and Simon's head falls backwards imperceptibly as he pushes himself off the bed, pushing his feet into his boots. As he follows Price out the door, he makes eye contact with you, slipping his fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling back as he licks your slick off of them. He winks as he walks around the corner, mouthing

this isn't over.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

school is over and my requests deleted themselves somehow so if you've got ideas pls send them

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #mw2 ghost #simon riley cod #ghost call of duty #simon riley smut #simon riley imagine #cod ghost #ghost smut

[qqueenofhades]

There is no law that prevents a convicted felon from running for and becoming president, nor a law that bans someone from being president in prison. Also, if Trump gets incapacitated in someway, many ultra right republicans who equally despise trans people and immigrants and Muslims would happily take his place

And I ask, with all due respect, what is your point?

Do you think I don't know that?

Do you think I am somehow convinced that everything is hunky dory now and we don't have any work left to do?

Are you just determined to be the first of the gloom-and-doomers who show up like clockwork in my inbox, every time some consequence happens to Trump, to morosely insist that no consequences will happen to him? First it was "he'll win re-election." Then it was "the coup will succeed." Then it was "he will never be indicted." Then it was "2022 will be a red wave!" Then it was "he will never be tried." Then it was "he will never be convicted." Now we've moved on, within less than 2 hours of the first US President ever to be convicted of ONE felony, let alone THIRTY-FOUR, "he'll never be sentenced or face a real consequence or lose the election." The goalposts keep moving RIGHT along without even a single pause to acknowledge the difficulty and the value of the progress we have made thus far, and it makes me CRAZY.

Do you people realize how fucking rare it is, both in the world today and historically, for a former (and would-be future) head of state to be held to criminal account by a jury of 12 anonymous ordinary citizens? When that one person, Trump, is the center of the malignant fascist cancer that has spread through this country ever since 2016, and plenty of his cultists are still insisting that it's Trump or nobody for them? When we've actually reached the stage of holding him legally accountable for (some of) his crimes for the first time in his miserable misbegotten life? I suspect that most of you are so deep in the "America is totally broken and the system is useless and we can only Revolute!!!1" rabbit hole that you're bound and determined to argue away every step we take, however slow, as Meaning Nothing TM. Voting? Fake. Fighting to make real progress? Also fake. Everything is fake except our belief that everything is broken and we need the Keyboard Warrior Glorious Revolution!!! As long as you can keep inventing ever more contorted twists of logic to ignore everything else that's happened so far, this makes sense... or something. I guess?

Now we're onto "removing Trump won't matter :(" when a whole lot of people have been fighting day and fucking night to get all the privileged-princess Online Leftists to get off their Che Guevara cosplaying asses and cast a single fucking vote to keep us from full-on-sliding into fascism. A slide into fascism that, again, has been spearheaded and centered around Trump's toxic cult of personality and which is still tied to him in almost every way. Apparently holding him to account (again, which has never happened to him in his life) already doesn't matter because wah wah he won't suffer any consequences. If he loses this election he's probably going to jail for the rest of his life! We would have electorally defeated the greatest threat to the American democratic experiment in 250 years, and frankly a huge part of the fascist far-right hydra that is currently attempting a comeback around the world! This is, yet again:

THE FIRST TIME ANY AMERICAN PRESIDENT, EVER, HAS BEEN CONVICTED OF MULTIPLE FELONY CHARGES IN A COURT OF LAW BY A JURY OF HIS PEERS

and yet we're still hearing that nothing matters and no work has been done and removing him will have no effect???

Come on. Come on. I know it's tiring and it's slow and it doesn't go as fast as we want. But every single damn time the process goes another step, here you people are in my inbox insisting that we're still at zero progress and it means nothing, and lemme tell you, I am Tired of it. Come on. You don't have to jump up and down (my own feeling is glee and vindication but still not relaxation, I will not relax until he loses the fucking election and goes to jail), but you also don't need to keep myopically pretending that all the effort thus far by so many people means nothing. Come on.

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts #the giant orange monster

[dontexpectmuch]

i know how much you guys love this series, so i give you a new part. this one how ever will be;

comments/feedback is highly appreciated! please, im getting desperate :d

Habits Jude Bellingham might develop before you guys get into a relationship!

(a Lost in Madrid drabble!)

it is no secret that jude just loves to talk. he genuinely enjoys it so much to share any and every thought that goes through his mind, no matter how small it might be. he couldn’t tell when it started exactly, but suddenly he found himself on his way to you, a tired student that just wants to finish their work. as soon as he lifts his hand, knocks on your door and enters the room his lips start moving, talking so lively and fast that you need some time to register what is even happening.

“what do you mean ‘m talkin’ your ear off? you literally study literature and shit!” - “it’s more about reading, jude.” you sigh, wishing for any kind of help at this moment.

it is also nothing new for you to receive messages from jude during your quiet evenings when you decide to stay home. jude recently got into sending audio messages, you being his number one victim [forced] friend, whom he shared this new passion with. and most of the times he won’t even say anything important. he’ll just sing a new spanish song he has learned that past week. and he will sing. no matter how terrible it sounds and how much it makes your ears bleed. though, you also always listen to those audios, even though you know what the content will be.

“jude?” opening your door after hearing a desperate knock, you did not think that you would see your [not] friend standing there. he looks tiredly at you, clothes wrinkled and sandals on, “mum wanted me to bring you some cake she baked.” he gives you the tupperware filled with slices of cake, energy low. you feel your shoulders relax as you look up at him, “tell her i love her, please.” he just nods. and even though he always complains to you about how he is not some delivery boy, he can’t help but get excited at the thought of seeing your soft eyes when you receive food his mum made. it makes him feel giddy inside.

he makes you trip purposely whenever you walk in front of him, and then giggles and jogs away to join the others on the field when you send daggers his way with your glare.

he forces you to play two-touch, even though you have told him multiple times already that you cannot play really well. he quite literally forces you to become better, giving you tips while making you pass the ball against the wall back and forth. “i don’t want to do this anymore, jude.” - “well, that’s too damn bad.” his gaze serious as he corrects your form once more. “bitch.” you murmur under your breath, praying for him to just disappear somewhere and leave you alone.

“what?” you ask as you look up from your notes, eyes wide as you watch jude place a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll onto your desk. “i heard that you like sweets, or whatever.” he says, [desperately] wanting to look cool. your heart starts to pick up in speed when you look back and forth between jude and the things he just gave you, warmth spreading through your body. “thanks.”

“watch me.” he smirks at you, who looks quite annoyed tired at him. “i’ll hit this first time.” - “like you did to me on my first day here?” - “dude! i told you not to talk about it anymore, ‘t’s a sensitive topic for me, ‘kay?”

heartfelt conversations between you are not as rare as one might think. whenever jude comes to you to talk your ear off while toi work on your research, you sometimes tell him about your own stuff. that leads to various topics you two discuss, which also results in sharing some intimate thoughts. it makes jude, who usually looks so confident and well put together, look more human, like a 20 year old guy who also learns something new every day.

—————————————

surpriseee! hope you like it!! :)

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #football x reader #football one shot #x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham x you #football #jude bellingham fluff #lostinmadrid #relationship

[pinkyqil]

Flirt // Jenni hermoso x r

Jenni was a flirt least to say she could flit with anyone as long has it as lips head and a body anything else wouldn't matter to her. So that why you felt really confused with your "relationship". with her cause she always gave you mixed signals that rarely made any sense to you.

One day she's all over you complimenting you, making you blush and all as it the usual Jenni package. next thing you know someone else is getting the same treatment that she gives or how she likes to call it "her delicate taste".

That made absolutely no sense to you but one thing you knew was that you were done. with anything that had to do with Jennifer hermoso you didn't want a part of it unless it was something serious. But it didn't look like it things where going to change with her so you thought.

You started pulling away from jenni it went from you two always partnering up to you straight up ignoring her and picking someone else as your partner.

To dismissing her and canceling plans that she made cause you knew it would be some different by tomorrow.

Slowly a hole formed in your friendship you both couldn't even spare each other a glance or a simple greeting.

The only time you would actually say a few words would be around game days where you needed to communicate with jenni but that wasn't something you both could do outside of work.

It honestly broke your heart to be pulling away from her like this. You missed her smile silly jokes that she would make trying to lighting up the room.how she would be there whenever you needed something or that you weren't feeling well she was always by your side like your order half.

Least to say jenni also felt the same way her heart felt incomplete like the other pieces to it was missing. but she knew one thing and it was to make it up too you for whatever she did cause her heart couldn't take you acting like she didn't exist.

The last few days you noticed Jenni putting in some efforts but you would always denie her and.

still continue shutting her out she tried everything from leaving notes and your favorites chocolate in your cubby opening the door for you. helping you carry heavy equipment without calling out for help but you wouldn't come forward.

It wasn't that you heated what jenni was doing you loved it all but your heart wasn't ready for what would happen if you guys where to talk it out.

Would things go back to the same way with how she was treating you or would you two become something. Was what you wondered.

Jenni's act had been going on forever but still she didn't get any improvement from you side always the cold shoulder and nothing more for her.

Today she jenni had planned to conner you when everybody as left as she knew you loved taking your time.

Your day went on with how it usual was Jenni still left you some notes and perfume in your cubby for when you arrived but you hadn't seen her anyway around the training grounds which was quite weird as she hung out with her group of people. But needless it was none of your busses.

You were tye last one to shower as everyone else had left or that what you think.you quickly dressed up and started existing the building until you felt a strange but familiar hands grab you by the waist.

It was none other than jenni she looked broken and hurt. All you could do was stare at her.

"What do you want hermoso". you asked her as you tried pulling your hands away.

" I just want to talk to you it would only take a few minutes". She said

"Well get talking cause I didn't have enough time to spend with you in my way".

She took a deep breath before speaking.

"I know that lately have been giving you on and off signals and just acting out as if you aren't important to me which is false so I just wanted' to tell you that I love you so much more than a friend we've both been through anything".

anyone can imagine and I just can't keep living like this knowing that j hurt you instead of protecting you so I just wan to apologize for that". She said as she took time to catch her breath.

"oh jenni you don't understand how long I waited for you to tell me how you feel cause I' also share the same feelings as you, I love you more than anything else that you can imagine"

and it hurt me a lot seeing how you would always treat me I love you jenni hermoso". You told her not expecting all that to come out of your mouth.

"So will I be able to treat you out to a date". She asked

"Yes you can have honestly seen the way that you've improved and I love it". you told her before tip-toeing and leaving a peck on her lips.

"You deserve it". You said

"I guess I do". She replied back

"So I'll see you saturday for dinner". She asked

"Definitely". You told as you walked away holding the notes that she had been living for you onto your chest.

Maybe luck was on your side after all and jenni wasn't just a flit after all.

A/n: hope y'all enjoy this read and if you see any mistakes no you don't cause I just finished writing this at 12:18 so mistakes shall be fixed later. anyway feedbacks, request and comments or if you want to chat with me inboxes are always opened and everything else is appreciated and don't forget to take care of yourself 💗

#jenni hermoso #jenni hermoso x reader #jenni hermoso x yn #jenni hermoso imagine #jenni x reader #jenni hermoso fic #Jenni hermoso fluff #espwnt x reader #espwnt imagine #espwnt #woso fic #woso x reader #woso imagines #woso fluff #woso fanfics #woso oneshot #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso blurbs #woso drama #woso #woso community #spain wnt #barcelona femeni #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni imagine #fcbfemeni x reader #pinkyqilfic

[the-avengers-not-the-nazis]

My wife, even better

Summary: Dean can’t stop talking about you, his wife.

Word count: 0.5k

A/n: Not really any use of Y/n, but it is pretty cheesy. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. ;)

༺═────────────═༻

“And she has theses eyes, wow.” Dean let out a sigh, his own eyes practically in the shape of hearts as he continued to talk to the bartender. “I mean, look, if you’ve ever seen them, then you could see all these different shades mixed into one. It’s awesome.”

The bartender just nodded her head, the damp rag moving quickly back and forth on the counter tip. “Mhm.” She hummed, not even listening to what the love struck man was even saying. 

“Plus, the way she talks is so beautiful, if I were to listen to one sound the rest of my life it would be her voice.” 

“Yep.”

The bartender then turned her back to the man, trying to focus on her work and not on the man that had been rambling on about you since he sat down. With nothing else to do Dean just let his eyes wander through the bar, catching his brother and you talking to a few people about the case that you were working on. 

Dean played with his empty beer bottle, watching as the light reflected off the glass. His thoughts wandered over to you, not that they weren’t on you to begin with. But, he thought of how just days ago you were his simple girlfriend, how you and him used to tease and flirt with one another before you were officially together. 

And now, now you were Deans forever. Til death do you part, in both sickness and in health. You were his wife, and he was your husband. The thought made a smile drift onto his face and warmth creep up the back of his neck. 

“Hey,” You suddenly said from behind the man, dragging him out of his thoughts. “Sam and I have some intel on the case.”

Dean quickly turned back to the bartender in front of him, who had her hands busy with cleaning the glasses and counter for the night. “What did I tell you?” He asked her, dragging her away from her work. “The voice of an angel.”

The bartender gave a quick nod before getting back to work, not even sparring the two a second glance as she walked away. You hit Dean with the back of your hand, not hard enough to hurt him, but hard enough to let him know that he needed to focus. 

“I told you to stop that.” You gently scolded, your ears slightly turning pink. “Nobody wants to listen to you talk like that.”

“But, I want to.”

“And that’s amazing, D.” You pulled his hand in yours, giving it a tight squeeze. “But, not everyone wants to hear about our marriage.” 

“But, how could I not tell the world about you?”

You gave him a light peck on the cheek, pulling him off the bar stool and towards the exit. “Do you know how cheesy you sound?”

“Very, but I love you.” Dean quietly told you, leaning down to give you a kiss on the lips. “And I want the world know that, my beautiful wife.”

“And I love you, my gorgeous husband.”

#dean x y/n #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester #sam x y/n #sam x you #sam winchester x reader #sam x reader #sam winchester #castiel x reader #castiel #crowley x reader #crowley #lucifer spn #lucifer supernatural #supernatural #spn fanfic #spn rewatch

[fooled-around-and-fell]

something i'm made for

summary: you've never wanted to have kids, so finding out you wouldn't be able to have one shouldn't make you sad... right? pairing: gojo satoru x female reader content warnings: if you've watched HIMYM and remember what happened to Robin, this is basically that but JJK. angsty. reader doesn't want kids. not at all accurate to the manga/anime. no curses AU. angst with comfort. Masterlist

It's what you wanted, right?

Your wish has been granted.

You won't have kids. Ever.

Shouldn't you be happy?

You've never wanted kids your whole life, and now that the doctor has confirmed that you can't have kids... isn't that what you wanted?

It doesn't feel like victory.

You sigh.

"You okay?"

Your head snaps up, forgetting you're currently having drinks with your friends.

"O-oh yeah, just.. stressed about work."

You swivel the whiskey in your glass. You'll never need to restrain yourself from drinking alcohol because of a baby.

It's a win... no?

Sighing again, you down your whiskey and stand up from the booth. "I'm gonna head back, not feeling great today."

It's a series of 'boos' and 'aws' and 'stay a bit longer' but none of their words seem to reach you. You say brief goodbyes and make your way out the door. Everything's a murmur until you step outside, and then it's quiet. It's cold. Somehow the silence is now louder than when you're inside.

"Hey."

You see Satoru step out of the bar. "I'm okay."

"Yes, you said that already," He chuckles, "Can I walk you home?"

You start walking and he follows along, keeping up with your slow pace, hands bumping into each others' sometimes -- it's all very sweet, feels very high school-ly, and you can't help but let your heart race.

There's always some tension whenever it's just you and Satoru. Like it's obvious that you like each other, but nothing ever happens because... well... you don't actually know why. You're scared of making the first move, but also what would you do if Satoru does make the first move?

What if it's awkward?

But what if it works out?

What if you break up? It'll be really awkward for your other friends.

What if it's always meant to be?

What if you want to have a future with him?

And what if he wants kids?

Something you can't give him. Something that you'll talk about now on every first date because it is a dealbreaker for almost everyone. And look at Satoru, he's the sweetest angel who's gonna be an amazing dad some day while you'll just watch from afar.

You're overthinking again. All of this because of your feelings for him.

"Crazy how Suguru now has kids. Twins, even." Satoru chuckles, "Utahime is pregnant too... man, we're getting old."

Of all the topics, really? This is what he wants to talk about?

"Haha, yeah," You fake a laugh, "I don't know how they do it."

"Well I guess we'll know when it happens."

And it'll never happen.

You stop in your tracks as the sadness washes over you again.

You don't want kids, you should be celebrating the fact that you'll never wake up in the middle of the night to soothe cries, never have to change a dirty diaper, never have to stress out over your child getting hurt.

So why are you sad? Why?

You don't realize you're crying until you see Satoru's surprised eyes looking at you from below. He's crouching so he can see what you're hiding under all your hair, and the sight breaks his heart.

He wipes your tears away, standing up again and kissing your cheeks while he's at it.

"Tell me what's bothering you," He says, "I'll make it go away, I promise."

You offer him a bittersweet laugh, "You can't... not this one."

But you can't not tell Satoru what's wrong. He's your best friend -- and you actually do want to tell him, you just don't know how to. You're scared Satoru would say what you're feeling is ridiculous... you find it ridiculous yourself.

You grasp his hand that's holding you so dearly as if you'd shatter and finally tell him what's weighing your mind.

"I can't have kids."

Satoru blinks a few times, letting the silence sink in.

"I, uh, went to the doctor the other day for a checkup and she told me I'm.. infertile." You laugh awkwardly, trying to make a joke out of it but your quivering lip gives it away.

"Satoru," you continue, "I should be glad, right? I don't want to have kids, so this news should make me happy, right?"

He holds your hand just as tightly and hugs you while you cry into his chest. He's not sure what to say, but he figures it must be frustrating. Not wanting to have kids is one thing, but to have the choice taken away from you is something completely different.

You let him stay with you that night. He holds you close and comforts you as you lay in each other's arms. You feel bad for possibly using Satoru to make yourself feel better, but little do you know that he'll happily do anything you want and you needn't ask.

"I'll always be here for you."

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo angst #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you #satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru angst #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru jjk #gojo x female reader #gojo satoru x female reader #gojo satoru x reader fluff

[exilethegame]

What's the go-to topic for the RO's if you want to get them talking for the next 4 hours straight? In other words, what kind of things are they most interested in/passionate about?

Hmm...

Vethna: Politics in Vygrand, the ethics of blood magic, the history of magic in general... they are very much an academic at heart and like trying to find the balance between a "perfect world" and reality. Plus they've never spoken about these things to someone who takes them seriously, so having a place to do just that would have Vethna blabbering for hours.

Nikke: Weapons, daggers, specifically. He collects them as he finds them which may be grim to other people (considering he usually takes them from the bodies of the people he kills), but hey... it's still a cool collection, okay? He also loves talking about all his adventures and sharing stupid stories about cool places he's visited. Also fighting techniques. He's genuinely super into that. Goes for Jost + Nikke that they both have A LOT to say about the Taipan gang in Vrithka as well. Like a lot a lot. (None of them are good things)

Jost: Jost is a listener, not a talker. But in the rare, rare occasion you have her going on about something, it's usually because she's upset and somehow, you became the one person she trusts enough to vent things to. It's not necessarily upset as in sad, per se, but she's in a place emotionally where needs someone to bounce ideas and thoughts off of. (However, passion-wise, she's super into the arts, so you could probably pull some words out from her re. arts from the Old Worlds, museums, that sort of thing). 

Amilia: Amilia does not stop talking. Amilia will go for hours talking about a cute mushroom on the side of the road, no not underestimate her. And you know what? Yes, she's doing it to annoy who she's with, but part of her really is interested in that mushroom you know. On a more serious note, she's really into music and getting to know people. Amilia's one of those people that makes others open up pretty easily, and it's something she genuinely enjoys since she likes learning the "lore" of individuals. (... is that just gossip?)

Sabir: Astrology, the gods of the Old World, the Old World in general, really. Interestingly enough, Sabir does not enjoy talking about politics. Like you can rile him up if you try hard and enough, but he sincerely tries to avoid getting too far into it because it's such a glib subject. That, and he's already talking about politics all day given his position. Sabir isn't a ramble talker though-- he won't just chatter for hours on end about something. He's into the art of conversation, you see. The back-and-forth is what's fun for him, so he'd rather talk about nothing at all and fill the conversation with shallow banter than passionately talk about his map collection.

Syfyn: Just remind her of the time someone vaguely pissed her off one time and you got about an hour of entertainment off that incident alone. (One time a person cut her in line at the mess hall, one time she stubbed her toe because someone moved a box, one time--) Syfyn also likes talking about combat and training, but Nikke's more like "genuine excitement and tips and tricks" and Syfyn's more like "lmfao I kicked your ASS you're a loser" or "did you see how hard I punched that thing lemme remind you"

Freedom: Hmm... this only works if one is super-super close with Freedom, but they'll be very genuine and skip the word-games when it comes to talking about the Old World, the time when the other gods were alive, their past and people they've met/known. That's the one thing Freedom could speak about for hours and be upfront about AND be genuinely invested in the conversation. They enjoy sharing relics of history with people who are actually willing to listen, and the fact anyone might want to really know about them on an individual level would be very flattering.

#answered #vethna #nikke #amilia #jost #syfyn #sabir #freedom #rip Syfyn she's a blurbo at heart forced to be in her sad girl era #Syfyn + Nikke and Amilia + Freedom would be great convo pairs according to this #I've tried to post this like seven times and Tumblr immediately smote me with a bolt of lightning

[fefern]

Hello!! I'm in love with your Wuwa hcs and writing in general and I'd love to put in a request, if you're still open for them :0 <3

I'd like to request some fluffy hcs for Jiyan with an s/o that's part dragon, has horns and tail and maybe some scales like Mortefi(forgot if you spell his name like that I'm sorry😭 the red scientist guy). The s/o is super protective of him but also aloof in public, super cuddly in private when the time is right, brings him rocks and flowers as gifts and all that cute stuff, basically courting him by "dragon standards" hajsjdjd

Thank you for your time!<3

✧˖° his reaction to a dragon hybrid lover. | jiyan headcanons.

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ synopsis: look in the sky! it's a bird, it's a plane, it's a... dragon hybrid reader? just how will jiyan react to being courted by you, and how does he love you as someone who's part dragon?

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ characters involved: jiyan and gender neutral reader.

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ warnings: none!

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ notes: hello hello hello! i hope you are doing well lovely anon!! thank you for sending in an ask, and i hope this fufils what you were looking for ;;!! sending lots of love, and as always, requests are open! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ jiyan ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

your tail would be so so pretty, decorated with scales that had colors that mimic the colors of the clouds and skies. 

your horns would be cute on the top of your head, a bit pointy and glowing in the night. 

jiyan has come to adore your dragon features, finding them both unique and absolutely beautiful. he’s caught often staring at the way your scales on your face, neck, and tail all catch the sunlight just right to create a glimmer like nothing he’s ever seen before. 

he’s quiet in the way he admires you, gently curling a piece of your hair behind your pointy little ears and smiling whenever you look over at him when he does. 

he didn’t have time to confess to you about his feelings though, he was caught up with being a general and of course, he also had to consider the fact that he didn’t really know if you would reciprocate them back. 

would you prefer mating with another dragon hybrid yourself? is that how these things work?

after a few months of being around you though, he began to notice some… strange things. 

for example, whenever you two were walking around the city, you’d always be on the defensive, not letting anyone get too close, not even the chef when you’d go get lunch together. 

then, sometimes, when he comes back from long patrols, you overload him with rocks and flowers that you’ve gathered for him, and he always says thank you, even though it’s a bit difficult to bring back to his home.

(he keeps them in his room forever to admire when you’re not around.)

also, lately, you’ve been much more affectionate with him, rubbing your cheek against his and getting very touchy as well, always wanting to be close to him physically. 

he expresses his confusion about your behavior to one of the researchers when he stops by one day to gather some intel for a mission for his rangers. 

one of the researchers directs him to a shelf that discusses about dragon hybrids, and the man spends almost the entirety of one day learning more about you and your species. 

the way he feels his cheeks flush a soft pink when he realizes just what it means for you to have been doing all these actions. he feels like he had a revelation, but at the same time feels stupid and dense. 

he’s quick to come back to you one day with flowers and your favorite food in hand, giving them to you and confessing his love for you on top of a quiet hill with a beautiful view of the starry night sky. 

“my pretty dragon, you’re prettier than anyone in all of huanglong, and i have loved you for quite some time. will you do me the honors and be mine?”

when you say yes, he feels overjoyed and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into a tight hug as he’s careful not to hit your horns or tail while doing so.

after the successful confession, a few things change. 

for one, when you begin sleeping over more at his place, he begins to gift you dozens of fluffy blankets and pillows. he organizes them in a nest-like position for you to cuddle up in, and finds it adorable when he comes back to the sight of you curled up in the fluffiness. 

jiyan will cuddle with you more often now, guiding your tail to wrap around his strong muscles so that you get your fix of touching as much of his skin as possible. jiyan likes to run his hands over the smooth scales to coax you to sleep.

he enjoys pecking soft kisses on the scales of your face and neck; it’s his little reminder to you to not be insecure about something so beautiful. 

overall, you’re jiyan’s most beloved treasure. he will do anything to make sure his little dragon is safe and loved.

#wuwa #wuthering waves #wuthering waves x reader #wuthering waves headcanons #wuwa headcanons #wuwa x reader #jiyan #jiyan x reader #wuwa jiyan x reader #wuthering waves jiyan x reader #jiyan headcanons #wuwa jiyan headcanons #wuthering waves jiyan headcanons #wuthering waves jiyan #wuwa jiyan #qi writes

[hazz-a-bear]

A LITTLE TOO MUCH, wen junhui

♡⸝⸝ Junhui doesn't know what he's expecting when he shows up at your place on a Friday at three in the afternoon. He doesn't know what he's expecting at all but god, it definitely isn't this.

.ᐟ Fwb! Junhui x reader. Unestablished relationship. Strangers to friends sort of. Mention of pregnancy. Mention of sexual content. Mention of abortion. Mention of blood and bleeding. Mention of pills. Medical inaccuracies. Reader is able to have kids. Reader goes through a home abortion. Seungkwan is the sweetheart we all need in our lives.

AN -This is a work that I've been nervous to share because not only is it out of my usual writing style, it also deals with a pretty heavy situation. I was heavily inspired by Amerie's unplanned pregnancy and how it was handled in the Heartbreak High Season 2 and this is a shameless result of that. First of all, I need to say that this is just a work of fiction and nothing is a portrayal of the characters in real life. I wouldn't know anything about how they would act in a situation like this so please keep in mind that this is just a figment of my imagination and how I picture this as a creative piece of work. Please read this at your own risk, this might be triggering for some people so I've been mindful to put enough warnings.

★ The end and the start of the abortion part will be marked if you wish to skip over

It's not unusual for Junhui to be in your apartment at odd hours of the day. The two of you had an agreement that quite literally required him to be there at odd hours of the day.

The unusual bit is that he's here on a Friday at three in the afternoon - way earlier than he has ever been.

Junhui tries to remember if he's ever been to your place during the day and he's only a little bit ashamed when he comes with nothing. Though it makes him feel a little bad, the two of you aren't the type of people to just hang out with each other. Hell, you were basically strangers aside from knowing each other's bodies like the back of your hands. He didn't know if he could even call the two of you friends. Junhui definitely would, he wasn't exactly sure what you would say.

Whatever proposition to fool around the two of you had been doing for the last two months has been strictly limited to nightly visits and Junhui leaving as soon as possible afterwards. So, it was more than a little out of character for him to be standing outside of your apartment when it wasn't anywhere near dark nor had you invited him solely for that purpose.

You did invite him though - just a little ominous and frantic enough to tell him that this was definitely not you wanting to hook up.

What makes it more unusual is the way you don't give him the coy smile you usually smile once you open the door. And instead of wrapping your arms around his neck, looking at him through hooded eyes and pulling him inside, you just stand.

An unsettling feeling brews in Junhui's heart as soon as he sees you dressed in what looks like a pair of pyjamas and far more disheveled than usual.

Junhui just stands mirroring you, owlishly blinking as he tries to take in your frame - clearly on the verge of tears.

You might not consider him a friend but - "Jun"

In the two months you and Junhui had been together - sort of - he has heard you say his name in different circumstances. A little laugh when you open the door to him, scolding when he brings mud tracks into the house, a gasp when he pushes you againt the wall, a long sigh of breath when he presses you into the mattress, and even laced with sleep when he finally gets up to leave. And in the two months, he has never once heard you say his name this way - raspy and wet, and so so broken like he's the only lifeline you're holding on to.

Junhui moves in an instant, stepping inside the familiar apartment and softly kicking the door shut behind him.

"Hey," He backs you up against a wall, holding you by the arms as he tries to ignore the way you're trembling under his touch. "I came as soon as I saw the text. What's wrong?"

Junhui can only worry as you wordlessly turn towards the living room without answering him. Trying not to let the lack of your usual chirp and hop in your step get into his head, he lets himself be pulled alone until you're pushing him to sit on the couch.

The restless feeling doesn't leave as he settles on the seat, watching you move to sit on the floor in front of him.

"Yn, what's wrong?" Junhui reaches forward to take one of your hands, letting his thumb circle soothingly against your skin. The touch is new, foreign almost. Despite being each other's for two months, it dawns on him that the two of you never initiate cuddling or holding hands and all the soft stuff. Well, there really wasn't a need to considering they were strictly just hookups so Junhui doesn't know why he's suddenly so bothered.

"You're scaring me, what's going on?" He tries again, a little lost as he takes your other hand and rests it on his knees.

"Um, I- well," You seem to be at a loss of words now, snapping out of whatever daze you'd been stuck in. "God, you're here. I- Fuck, didn't think this far. I just, I just wanted you here"

He watches as you sputter, shifting to sit on your knees, one hand slipping from his as you bring it up to run your fingers through your hair. The tug looks harsh, jerking your head in the process and Junhui is quick to catch your wrist again, bringing it back down with a pointed look.

"Don't do that" He quietly mutters, eyes trained on your rather crestfallen face. "Just- what's going on, yn? You were almost crying at the door"

You lean forward to rest your forehead against his knees before you take a deep breath and lean back, pretending to look like you're not about to choke as soon as you open your mouth. Junhui gives you what looks like an encouraging smile and yeah, you can do this. You just have to put it on the table and hope Junhui doesn't get up to slam the front door in your face.

"My period's late by about two week. It's never happened before" You explain quietly, looking at anything but Junhui's face. "Well, it's normal for it to be late a couple of days but, today's the fifteenth and yeah, I'm freaking out"

Junhui is silent and you hope he understands what you're trying to say because if you have to explain it to him in actual words, you might as well throw up.

"Are you saying you might be pregnant?"

Your fingers instinctively tighten around his and it's enough of an answer. But he deserves more than that so you muster up enough courage to look him in the eye without breaking into a sob.

"I'm saying I might be"

Junhui's breath hitches as you choke on your words. He shifts in his seat like he's going to lean back and for a second you're worried he's going to let go. He takes a deep breath as he leans backwards on the chair, fingers still laced with yours just as firm.

"Fuck- okay, okay" He throws his head back, resting on the back of the couch for a second. You can almost see the gears turn in his head. Figuring out when this might have happened, what led up to it, what got the two of you in this situation and god,

"I'm sorry" You know perfectly well you shouldn't apologize. Frankly, you don't have a reason to. Both of you are grown adults with consciousness enough to know what happens without protection. But you still can't help but quietly apologize for something you shouldn't be sorry for.

"What?" Jun sits up again, ears perked and eyes wide. "Did you ju- No, yn, no. Why are you saying sorry? No, that's not right"

"I know. I know" You let out frustratingly. "Fuck, I don't know why I did. I don't even know If I'm actually p-. Not yet. I'm just so- I'm scared, Jun. I'm so fucking scared"

You're surprised it took this long for the tears to fall. When it does, you try to quickly wipe them with your shoulder, ignoring the burning shame in your stomach and hiding your face from Junhui.

"Hey, yn, hey" Letting go of one of your hands, he brings them up to your cheek. Once you've turned to face him, Junhui gives you a small smile. "Before we panic, we still don't know for sure, yeah? What if it was a false alarm? What if your period is just fashionably late, hm? All these tears would have been for nothing"

You nod, biting down on your lip as you try to keep your composure.

"Don't cry, please. You're gonna make me cry too" Junhui gently wipes the skin under your eyes with his thumb and you let out a wet chuckle. "Let's take a test before we do anything else, okay? Do you want me to go and get one for you?"

When you nod, Junhui gives you another smile before he stands up, pulling you along. Expecting he's going to get to the door, you try to untangle your fingers. You're surprised when he does eventually, only to snake his arms around your shoulders and pull him to his chest.

The two of you had a strictly professional relationship, as professional as being each others ( stranger with benefits? ) might be. Holding hands was already more affectionate than anything you've done. So, hugging Junhui felt so foreign yet so comforting. It makes uou regret not hugging him before. Makes you miss a kind of warmth you've never even had. You feel his hands rubbing comforting circles on your back, his head nestled in your neck.

"I'm scared too" Junhui's voice is so quiet that you strain your ears to hear him. "Even though you can't see it, I'm properly shitting my pants right now"

Your laugh is muffled by his sweater and you're suddenly a little glad for Junhui's ever so cheery self. He's always been able to take the light of a heavy situation, you've thought.

"But, whatever happens, you have me, yn. I know we're not exactly, well, friends, per say but I'm not going to let you go through this alone"

"Because you might have knocked me up?" You ask when you're pulling away, giving him a little smile and Junhui laughs. It's a beautiful thing, head thrown back and all teeth as he does.

"Because I might have knocked you up, yes"

You're pacing in the kitchen when Junhui returns. He's been gone long enough to make you think he's run away and taken off after the whole i-know-we're-practically-strangers-but-i-might-be-pregnant-with-your-child ordeal. But before you could even get to the part of possibly carrying the child of your runaway hookup, going through this by yourself and holy fuck, there might be an child inside of me right now - there's a knock on your door again.

You open the door to Junhui standing there with not one, not two but three shopping bags. Certainly, it doesn't take up three full-sized shopping bags to put something as measly as a pregnancy test. The way you carefully eye his hands must be obviously because he's sputtering to explain himself as he steps inside.

"Sorry, I went to the pharmacy and then I saw that the grocery store was right across the street so I stopped by and got you some things"

Junhui puts down the bags on the counter before he digs into one and comes up with a much smaller bag. "I didn't know which one to get so..."

He lays three different boxes containing tests on the counter, looking at you with a sheepish smile. "The lady at the pharmacy said I should get all three. Just in case, you know?"

Since when did Junhui get so...cute.

"Thanks, Jun. What about the other stuff?"

"Oh, these" He turns towards the bags again. "I just got you some stuff, don't worry about it"

"I am worrying about it now," You say, circling the counter. "You didn't have to do all that"

"I got you some of those...sweets things that you keep in your pantry. The caramel ones? They had big packets so I got you two of those. And I also got some pasta and vegetables for dinner- which, speaking of" He stops his rambling to turn to you with an apologetic look. "I kind of invited myself to cook dinner for you, is that okay?"

The two of you are definitely crossing some lines you've never reached before today.

"You're more than welcome to, Jun" You can see his lips pull into a wider smile as he almost bounces in his place, giddy.

You carefully lean forward to grab the three boxes across the counter. You're suddenly hyper-aware of the way your stomach digs into the edge of the counter. It's probably stupid to freak out before even knowing the result like Junhui said. But you can't help the way your fingers shake as you pick up the boxes to read through the text on the back.

"Do you want to take it now?" Junhui asks softly, leaning on the counter himself.

"Yeah," You sigh, pushing yourself to your feet. "Let's get this done quickly. Come with me?"

Junhui is quick to take your outstretched hand with a firm, "Of course"

You feel your calm ( as calm as a potentially pregnant person who doesn't want to be pregnant can be ) demeanour faltering when you're inside your bathroom, taking out the tests one by one. Junhui is outside the door, pacing in the bedroom and his footsteps sound a little frantic as he waits for you.

Once you're done, you set the three sticks on the counter with your eyes squeezed shut. You try to keep yourself uptight with fingers gripping the counter. But like a ragdoll gone limp, you take a staggering step backwards and slide down the wall until you're sitting on the tile.

"Jun? Junhui?"

Your voice is weak and relatively on the edge of a sob. So it's fair that Jun immediately calls back, concern clear in every syllable. "Yn? you okay?"

"Can you come in here, please?"

The door opens very carefully and slowly, his head of blonde mess peeking around but as soon as he sees you on the floor, Junhui is quick to slip inside. "Oh, baby"

This time he doesn't hesitate to put his arms around your frame, moving to sit on the cold tile right next to you. You let yourself lean into his embrace until you're tucked into his side.

"Jun" You cry into his shoulder, clambering to lace your fingers with him. "What if it there's- there's a"

"There's a baby?" He finishes for you, quiet as if it would set off something in you as he holds you tightly. You nod into the junction of his neck and collarbone, hoping he'd be able to feel it. He does.

"Then there's a baby, sweetheart" Junhui says, gentle as he'd always been. You think you taste a little bile in your throat at what he says. "And we see what we do after that"

"I'm scared" You admit, the reality of everything finally setting in your gut in an unpleasant way. "I'm so so scared, Jun"

"Fuck, me too. Me too, yn. I'm so scared" You hear the thud when he throws his head back with a sigh, hitting it on the tile on the wall. "I'm sorry"

You smile against his neck. "You're sorry for knocking me up or being scared like a normal person would?"

Junhui heaves out something that sounds like a laugh as he looks down towards you. "Both. I'm sorry for knocking you up. Sorry for getting scared and being all over tha place. And I'm also sorry for getting you in this mess"

That's when you leave your hiding spot to look up at him, a frown etched into your eyebrows. "Jun, don't say that. You didn't get me- hey, look at me"

When he finally decides to stop staring a burning hall into the sink and catches your eyes, you can see how his eyes are mirroring yours - glazed over with tears that are yet to fall.

"First of all, don't say sorry for being scared. You're actually way calmer for a person who's about to find out if there's a baby. You're not all over the place, no you're not. You're only human, Jun"

"And, listen, we both got ourselves in this mess" You try to explain, one hand cradling his face as you peer into his eyes. "Both of us knew what we were getting ourselves into, Jun. Although we didn't exactly expect this to happen, the chances were never zero and we both knew. Nothing is your fault. It's not mine either. We were not being careful enough and that's on both of us, no?"

"You did some reflecting while I was gone, didn't you? Junhui laughs again, making you smile and tuck yourself back into his warmth. "You little ball of panic"

The laugh and the way Junhui sways you in his hold are cut off when his phone loudly rings, the three-minute timer going off outside the bathroom. he must have felt the way you go rigid in his arms.

"Do you want me to check it?"

"Yes. Yes, please" You swallow back the bile that rises up in your throat.

Before he lets go to stand up, Junhui pulls you into a hug again. You almost don't feel him press a kiss to the crown of your head, but the fleeting movement is still there.

You move to sit on your knees as he goes up to the counter. Not wanting to see him pick up the tests so carefully and let the tears that haven't dried roll down, you bring your hands up to your face. There's a beat of silence. The sound of Junhui picking one up, putting it down, picking one up, putting it down, picking one up. Silence. Putting it down.

"Positive" He's talking to the mirror. "All three of them"

Junhui holds your hair back as you heave into the toilet, throwing up what feels like your insides in whole.

Junhui is sitting next to you through the doctor's appointment on Saturday. His hand is laced with yours, his knee is pushed against yours and he's sitting next to you as the doctor comes back to the room with a small smile on her face.

"Congratulations yn, Junhui" She nods kindly to the both of you. "You're pregnant"

Junhui's hand suddenly feels a lot heavier in yours.

There really wasn't a piece of yours that was holding onto the false reality of the tests being wrong. But the sudden heaviness of the situation is loaded upon you as you hear the word from someone other than Junhui or your subconscious mind.

A nurse trails in to hand Junhui a bunch of pamphlets, everything from maternity clinics to home birth printed in tiny letters on colourful poster papers. You feel a new wave of nausea, or tears, or maybe both, hitting you at once. Oh yeah, definitely both.

"You guys can look through the options and talk about what's the next step you're taking" Your doctor speaks, words laced with a smile that makes you feel like she notices right through you. "Whatever decision you decide to take, reach out to us and we'll be there with you through the process"

She says something about giving the two of you a minute and gets up to leave the room once again, the nurse following behind closely. But before she slips out of the room, she turns back to you with such a tender look in her eyes. "Yn, Junhui, You're not alone in this"

It's like a bullet to your heart. A perfect echo of what Junhui had told you. You feel him shift in his seat as if it's just the thing he's been wanting to hear as well.

"So," He gives your hand a squeeze.

"So," You tilt your head, trying to relax yourself enough to give him a comforting smile. "You put a baby in me"

Junhui whines as he leans forward to rest his forehead on your shoulder. You laugh and try not to think about how the two of you must look like an ideal couple despite not knowing a thing about each other.

"It's not even a baby yet" Junhui keens. "It's a bunch of cells and whatnot. Like a blood clot, a blood bundle maybe"

"Don't say it like that, oh my god" You shove at him with a scowl. "That's kind of gross"

"You'd never be able to live with my roommate" Junhui says at that, shuddering for effect. "He's a nursing student and god, he has this need to describe every single detail of his internship to me like a bedtime story. Let's just say, I know some of the most grotesque things about his patients that I shouldn't be allowed to know"

"Oh god, Jun"

The room turns into a comfortable silence after that. The occasional buzz of people outside, the beep of a machine and Junhui's stool creaking bouncing off the insanely white walls.

"So, we're gonna do this, yeah?" You turn to see that Junhui is already looking at you, the soft look in his eyes and the upturned corners of his lips never disappearing from your sight.

Your hand goes to rest against his cheek before you realise what you're doing. You consider pulling it back but stops short when Junhui's smile widens ever so slightly as he leans into it. You try not to think about the boundaries that you're crossing as you swipe your thumb across the skin under his eyes.

"Yeah. We're doing this"

Junhui invites you to his place on Tuesday for dinner. You're supposed to be meeting his roommate, Seungkwan tonight. Given that he's a nursing student, much more professionally trained, he figured that Seungkwan would be able to help the two of you to some extent.

It's not the thought of meeting him that makes a shudder run through your spine. It's the first time you're going to break the news to someone. Someone other than Junhui, yourself, your doctor or the nurse at the clinic.

As much as you feel like laying down for the night, avoiding the meetup altogether, Junhui had been so excited when he brought up the idea, nearly vibrating out of his skin when you agreed to meet his best friend. You couldn't do that to him. How could you ever, ever say no to him.

"Yn, hi" Junhui quietly greets you as he opens the door. It's your first time in his place and somehow, there's something that makes it a little special. It's the first time you're getting so much as a glimpse into his life outside of you and your apartment.

"Seungkwan's in the kitchen. He wanted to cook tonight" He continues as you toe your shoes off at the entrance. Once you're done, he pulls you into a hug like second nature. "You okay? How are you feeling?"

"I'm good, Jun" You assure him with a soft pat on his back, pulling away and giving him a smile. "Still a blood bundle, remember?"

"Oh, Hello" You turn to face who you assume is Seunkwan. Dressed in a sweater too big for him and brown hair sitting on top of his hair in a messy mop, he smiles brightly. "I'm Seungkwan, nice to meet you"

"Hi, I'm yn" Seungkwan steps forward to shake your hand, gesturing you to come inside with a smile that's almost splitting his face in half. "Thank you for having me over, Seungkwan. I hope I'm not intruding"

"Oh, what nonsense" He animatedly flails his arms around as he leads you straight to the kitchen. You can already see that Seungkwan is a people person by heart. "Junhui here is nothing but yn this, yn that these days. It's a matter of fact I met you, don't you think?"

Next to you, Junhui sputters and coughs as Seungkwan blabbers. Not taking any attention from the other, you bring a hand up to rub his back. Interesting.

Your heart warms at how Seungkwan, ever so excited to meet you, welcomes you to help him cook dinner. He tells you about his time at nursing school and his work as an intern at a nearby medical centre. Junhui contributes to the conversation by throwing in bits and pieces here and there.

Just listening to the two boys banter, words flowing in naturally between them, you can see just how close they are. Seungkwan goes into a story about Junhui's college days, Junhui goes bright red and whines at him to stop, and Seungkwan coos and pinches his cheek as you watch.

"Seungkwan, I love you but I don't need to know how big Mr. Chen's ass wart is" Seungkwan almost hits the counter as he laughs at Junhui's face morphed into frustration.

"Junnie, spare me something, won't you, bub? I talk to no one except the coffee machine and poor Mrs. Sim for two days straight sometimes" Seungkwan waves him off before turning to you. "Yn, Mrs. Sim never remembers me twice. Do you know I have to introduce myself to her every single time I go to her room?"

"This is why you need some new friends, Kwan" Junhui shoots him a pointed look. "Or you need to get laid. Maybe you're retreating back to your virgin agenda because of how long you've gone without getting some"

You let out a scandalous gasp at this, exaggerating for entertainment. "Seungkwan, that's why you're so cranky"

"I'm cranky because I work twelve-hour shifts at a hospital wiping shit out of at least twenty different asses, people. I don't have the time" He whines as the two of you snicker. "I don't need to get laid, piss off. Work is fucking me in the ass enough for the whole year, get off my back"

Dinner goes like that. Junhui, you and Seungkwan sitting around the kitchen table as they share small talk over the food. Seungkwan is the one who actively keeps the conversation going since both you and Junhui are much on the quieter side. You feel thankful for the way he obviously tries his best to make you feel at home, filling the voids by being his happy self despite the worn out look and dark circles under his eyes. You can't imagine how tired Seungkwan actually is.

It's only once you're done with the food that Junhui sends you a look when his best friend turns to get the desserts. You manage to nod weakly just as he returns loudly.

"Seungkwan," You swallow as Junhui turns to him with a voice that's far more grounded than you've heard. Seungkwan must be used to it because he doesn't spare a glance before he nods. "We have something to tell you"

When Junhui looks at you again, you give him a tight-lipped smile and hope it's encouraging enough to keep him talking. You see the light frown that etches itself onto Seungkwan's eyebrows as he looks between the two of you with clear confusion.

"There's no reason to beat around the bush, so. You know that yn and I..." Junhui sighs heavily, looking at the younger, letting the words complete themselves. "We found out that she's pregnant"

There's a silence that takes over the room. It's not uncomfortable per se. Seungkwan looks like he's letting the words settle in his brain. It takes him more than five seconds to snap back into it before he immediately reaches towards you.

"Oh, yn" You try to stop yourself from trembling as Seungkwan lays a hand between the two of you. He leaves if wutg his palm up. An invitation of comfort. You take his hand and he's quick to lace his fingers with you. "How do you feel?"

"I'm alright. Yeah, I'm okay" You nod, rather to yourself. "It was so surprising but I've processed it all now. I'm okay"

"Good" Seungkwan acknowledges with a soft smile and his thumb swiping against your skin comfortingly. He's staring at you in a way that reminds you of the doctor back at the clinic. Like he sees right through you. But before you can dwell on it further, he's pulling away to grab a washcloth that hangs from the side of the pantry.

"And, you. You, child" Junhui shrieks as Seungkwan flings the cloth at him, repeatedly hitting him square in the face. "How many times have I told you to be careful? To use protection? Do you know how many times, Wen Junhui? All the condoms I stuck in your bag hoping you'd be responsible enough to use them"

Junhui manages to get away from him and runs straight to stand behind you, fingers gripping your shoulder as he uses you to shield himself from Seungkwan and his dirty washcloth attack.

"I swear, yn. This isn't how I raised him, I'm so sorry. I can't believe he'd be so reckless" Seungkwan speaks to you before he looks at Junhui with singlehandrdly yhe firties look you've ever seen. "Do you know how many condoms I stole from the condom vending machime at the clinic? For you, Wen Junhui. All this effort and you turn out to be an irresponsible adult"

"Stop" Junhui whines, holding to you. "Stop hitting me"

"You should scold me just as much, Seungkwan" You chuckle, hands coming up to rest on top of Junhui's. "We were both irresponsible adults"

"In that case" Seungkwan swats you with the cloth way lighter than he had to Junhui before he goes to sit down again, seemingly done with his stressed single mother tantrum.

You half expect Junhui to let go and move to his own seat after everything settles down. But a part of you, part you're wishing to not unpack right now, secretly hopes he would stay right there behind you. Solely because their apartment is cold and the body heat radiating off of Junhui is comforting. That's all. Nothing else.

As if he's read your words, Junhui shifts until his arms are thrown around your shoulders to pull you back against his front, hands clasping over your collar bones. You try not to do something like blush violently while Seungkwam is staring from the other side of the table like he's watching a drama.

"Well, as surprised and disappointed as I am, I'm glad you guys told me" Seungkwan's voice is relatively softer than it had been before. "Have you guys decided what you're going to do?"

Junhui shifts and you look up to see him already staring down at you with a tender smile. You mirror it and wrap your fingers around his arm as you face Seungkwan again.

"Yeah," You're not alone in this. "Yeah we have"

"Can I hug you?" Seungkwan asks when you're stepping out of their place that night, ready to go home.

Seungkwan's hugs feel like you're being smothered by a bear. A very soft and a very fluffy one. He's shorter than Junhui and he doesn't have to bend down to your height to hug you. You can see Junhui leaning against the doorway, watching the two of you with a glint in his eyes like he's close to tears.

"Yn," Seungkwan whispers in your ear, still holding you tight as if you're going to crumble if he doesn't. "Thank you for telling me, bub. I know we only just met and it means a lot to me that you trusted me with this. Junnie means the world to me and now you. I'm going to help you as much as I can, yn. You're not alone in this"

An exact mirror of something you've heard before.

Seungkwan holds you even tighter when you cry on his shoulder. It should be weird considering the two of you didn't know each other's last names till literal hours ago. But Junhui comes to stand behind you, rubs a comforting hand down your back and gives Seungkwan's arm a squeeze and everything is okay. For the first time, you're able to feel your heart settle into a kind of peace that makes you think,

Yeah, you can do this. You're not alone in any kind of way.

You take the first pill on Friday and Junhui holds your hand through it. You try not to choke around it as he brings you into a hug.

"You're okay" He whispers into your hair. "I'm right here"

★ warning

"I'm here, I'm here" Seungkwan chirps as he steps into the house. You can hear the sound of the door closing and then he's quickly shuffling to the living room where you're laying on Junhui's lap. Seungkwan is quick to drop his bags to crouch down in front of you. "Hi, honey. Hi, how are you feeling?"

"Like a fucking bomb exploded in my gut, Seungkwan, I can't do this" You cry through the cramps that are currently shooting through your body.

"That's exactly how it should feel, you're doing great, yn" Seungkwan assures. "Hi, Junnie, how are you feeling?"

"I'm going to cry" Junhui's fingers are trembling where he's running them through your hair. His other is laced with yours over your hip. You're pretty sure he's dislocated something by how hard you're gripping him but Junhui is yet to complain.

"Valid but I'm gonna hit you over the head if you cry right now" Seungkwan mutters but from the corner of your eye, you can see him squeezing Junhui's knee with enough comfort to keep his tears at bay. "Did you take the second pill, yn? Did you guys call the clinic?"

"We did, as soon as the cramps started. The nurse said she should take the second one" Junhui explains as you squirm in his lap. His hands threading through your hair offer a sense of comfort to some extent but right now it's nothing near enough as you feel like your entire body is about to explode into a mass of tissues and intestines. "She took painkillers thirty minutes before taking the misoprostol too"

"Good, great job yn. You too Jun" You're not exactly sure why he's cheering on you when all you've been doing for the past couple of hours is lying on Junhui's lap crying. It's still sweet that Seungkwan is human enough to validate not only yours but everything Junhui's been doing to be there for you "How long has it been?"

"A few hours. Three at tops"

"Okay then, she might start bleeding soon so let's move to the bathroom, yeah" Seungkwan peers into your eye with a soft smile. "Yn, ready to get this over with?"

"I am so fucking ready, god" You groan into Junhui's thigh as the two boys share a fond smile over you.

Junhui manages to get you settled in the bathtub carefully and you shiver at how cold the water is.

Seungkwan doesn't linger inside as much, quickly giving instructions to a Junhui who looks a little like he's going to collapse any second now. Though you trust Seungkwan, both as Junhui's friend and a professional, enough to let him be there through the process, you can't help but selfishly feel settled when you know Junhui is the only one who'd be able to see you at a moment like this. You fondly guess Junhui must be feeling the same if the way he subtly shields you from Seungkwan and doesn't let go of your hand says something. So the two of you settle in the confinement of the bathroom as Seungkwan slips outside with a promise to make some food while he keeps an ear out for you.

"I'm never having sex again" You whine, leaning against the tub.

"Without a condom you mean?" Junhui chuckles as he puts down the toilet seat to sit on top of it, hand still warm around yours from where it sits on the edge of the tub entangled.

"No, Jun. I said what I said"

"Oh no" Junhui throws his head back to exaggerate a whine at that, making you shake your head. "Suddenly my day is ruined. Why would you do this to me?"

The water sloshes around as you shift in your place, trying to get comfortable even as the edge digs into your back and the tile is cold against your skin. Junhui gives you a smile when you make eye contact.

Junhui's smile is so beautiful.

It's not like you're coming to the revelation now, you'd always had a soft spot for his smile. It was what you noticed first about him - a private thing where his whole face would light up and the corners of his mouth curl in an adorable way.

"You look pretty, Jun" You're saying before you can even stop what's coming out of your mouth. You have a front-row seat to see Junhui's face flush immediately as he tries not to sputter.

"I'm sitting on a toilet on the verge of a breakdown" He points out but there's a blush dusted on his ears.

"And you're pretty" It sounds more confident, way more concrete than the first one. "You always look pretty. Take the compliment"

Junhui smiles and takes the compliment with a flaring fluster.

As much as you would have liked to keep talking ( that was NOT flirting ) with him, a searing pain suddenly crashes through your body.

"O-oh my god" Your voice breaks on a gasp as you instinctively curl up on yourself. Your fingers tighten around Junhui's as you clamp down as hard as you can, trying not to scream at the pain that shoots through your body.

"Jun- Jun, oh my god" You can't help when the tears fall, more out of the sheer pain. From the corner of your eyes, you can see Junhui's face morphing into something of pure terror. He quickly moves to sit down on the tile next to the tub, holding onto your hand while he brings the other to lay flat against your back.

"I'm here, yn, I'm here" He's muttering like a mantra, hand running back and forth along your damp skin. "Breath through it, baby. Breath with me"

You let out a scream, not being able to handle the amount of pain coursing through your abdomen. Your hand is gripping Junhui's with such force that you can feel him stiffing up but he doesn't move away from his spot. Junhui sits on his knees to practically hug you while you're still in the water and you can blindly feel the way he's shaking as well.

"Jun," You sob, clinging to him a little tighter as if it's even possible. "It hurts. Hurts s-so much"

"I'm sorry, angel. I'm so sorry" He whispers into your skin. "You can do this, yeah? You have me, you can push through, baby. I'm sorry"

Junhui doesn't let go no matter how hard you scream, pressing his lips to your temple and muttering 'good job, yn' after each and every cramp that overtakes your body.

The sound of your sobs and the water echoes through the bathroom for what feels like an eternity. Seungkwan opens the door at some point, sitting by the entrance close enough to keep an eye out yet far enough to give you the privacy you need.

The water has gone cold when you slump against the edge of the tub at last, your body trembling with just how much energy it had taken out of you. Junhui still doesn't let you go, his arms around you and keeping you as close as possible. That's when you notice he's sobbing into your hair.

"Junnie" Your voice is weak but it's enough to make Junhui snap.

"Do you need something? Do you wanna get out right now?" He's immediately scrambling through his tears, alert. "Water, you need water right? Do you want me to get you a pad and clothes too?"

"Jun" You let him go on his ramble before bringing a hand up to his face. He should be grossed out by the way his skin gets damp by the water but instead, he leans into it like a cat. "Don't cry, I'll cry harder"

Junhui laughs and he's so beautiful. Even as he's crying through it.

You give him a frail smile as he leans forward to press his lips to your forehead before moving to your temple. You lean towards it when he keeps his lips there, skin against skin more intimate than anything the two of you had done before.

"You did it" He whispers into your skin. "Good job, my love. Good fucking job"

★ you made it

Seungkwan leaves with a good amount of advice and a kiss on your cheek. Junhui offers to show him to the door before he locks up, trudging back to the bedroom where you're now all clean and tucked under the covers.

"I'm gonna take a quick shower, is that okay?" He asks, coming to your side and crouching down. He softly runs his palm against your hair and you feel your eyes flutter, completely spent.

"Junnie, no. It's a mess-"

"I'll clean it up" He's quick. "Don't worry about it, okay? You need lots of rest. Seungkwan will kill me if he finds out I even let you speak more than three words"

"Jun-"

"Nope, I'm doing it"

Your protests follow as Junhui skips - yes, skips - the the bathroom. He sends you a wink as he closes the door and you wry out a laugh, shaking your head. You spend the next twenty minutes trying not to move in your place as you listen to the sound of Junhui singing to himself and scrubbing the bathroom floors.

A little smile makes its way to your lips as you let your mind wander over to him. The beautifully crafted creature that is Wen Junhui.

Even as he finally leaves the bathroom dressed in fresh clothes and tentatively joins you under the covers, you can't stop thinking about him. He's right there, threading his fingers through your hair as he tries to lull you into sleep.

Junhui has been nothing but supportive this entire time - from buying your favourite sweets to cleaning out blood clots from the tub - he's been everything. Since you found out about the pregnancy a week ago, Junhui has never once questioned your decisions, simply following your guide.

( "Aren't you upset at me?" You had asked on Wednesday, worn out and vulnerable.

"I would never be upset at you for choosing yourself" came his firm reply. )

"How do you feel?" Junhui's voice is soft as he fiddles with your hair.

"Not exactly better. But I feel lighter. You know what I mean"

"I do" Junhui's so close that you can feel his breath hitting your forehead. If you just turn and take him by the neck —

"You're so strong, you know?" He keeps talking quietly, putting a halt to your thoughts. "I can't imagine how that felt. I can't imagine how you're feeling now. I don't know how anyone goes through something like that without breaking. Everyone is so strong"

His words sound slurred like he's slipping into a sleep and fuck,

You and Junhui might be strangers with two months of history. But something has obviously changed the moment he walked up to your door last Friday at three in the afternoon. If the nicknames, the hand holding and the kisses were anything to go by - you would call it making progress.

And god forbid if you don't do anything about the way a fire burns in your heart, smoke rising in your inside until everything in your heart, and lungs is Junhui, Junhui, Junhui.

"I couldn't have done it without you" Taking the bullet, you turn to him. Junhui's eyes flutter when he realizes just how close you are. "Thank you for everything, Jun. If it wasn't for you- and Seungkwan. I don't think I would've been able to get through that alone. Thank you"

"You have nothing to thank me for" He's a little awake now, voice following with little puffs of air against your skin. "I'll never have let you do this by yourself"

"You like me that much?" You ask coyly, fingers reaching to play with his t-shirt.

"I do" Junhui goes a little silent before he speaks again, still quiet as if there's someone else in the room with you. "I like you a little too much actually"

"Yeah?" You try to pretend as if your heart isn't clawing at your chest but there's a shake to your voice that tells you it's not working. "Well, good. Cause I like you a little too much too"

Junhui keeps his eyes on your face as if he's searching for something. Maybe to see if he can decipher how much you mean the words. Luck for him, you mean it with every bone and muscle and cell in your body. He must have found what he's looking for because he brings his hand to cradle your face. Ever so softly, he traces his fingertips from your forehead to your cheek.

"We should sleep"

"We should"

When Junhui leans in to press his lips to yours, it's more intimate than any kiss you've ever shared before. He holds you by the neck as he deepens it, simple feeling the intensity of it running through both of you like electricity. Your hand twists the front of his t-shirt as he keeps his lips against yours. Not pushing, just resting in comforting silence.

When he finally pulls away, his lips are pulled up into a shy smile. You return your own just as he leans in to press another kiss to your forehead.

"It took me one week" He whispers and you give him a questioning look. "To like you a little too much"

You smile and pat his cheek before he pulls you into his side to drift off to sleep. Cradled against him, hand resting over his heart, you let yourself enjoy the comfort that Junhui never fails to give you.

I might have taken Junhui one week to like you a little too much. But that same week was enough for you to do much more than that.

To fall in love a little too much.

#esa.writes #esa.seventeen #esa.jun #seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen thoughts #seventeen crack #wen junhui #wen junhui x reader #wen junhui x you #wen junhui imagines #wen junhui fluff #wen junhui angst #seventeen angst #junhui #junhui x reader #junhui fluff #junhui angst #moon junhui #hazz a bear

[mysterystarz]

black tie losers

geto suguru x f!reader

in which you’re at a charity gala and come to the realization that maybe being best friends with suguru is no longer an option

a/n: when i thought of this i ran to write bc geto in a suit

feedback is so appreciated <3

“stay still. if you keep moving, you’re going to look like a clown.”

geto sits in front of you on a stool, tie messily done up as he holds a lipliner pencil in his hands. he’s grinning at his work — because true to his words, you looked like a clown.

“suguru, you can’t line lips for shit.” you sigh, rummaging through your things to find some makeup remover. “remind me why i let you do this again?”

geto laughs, grinning at you in a way that was oddly wholesome. “because i wanted to help you get ready for tonight. there’s nothing better than taking credit for the date on my arm.”

date indeed—a platonic one.

you and geto were attending your university’s biggest charity gala tonight. as one of the most successful black tie events on campus, each attendee was required to look straight out of vogue magazine to ensure they raised enough money to make a difference.

geto—ever the gentleman—asked you to be his date. he wouldn’t get hounded by the customary droves of girls, and you’d have someone to match with.

of course, being your best friend, he decided to help you get ready.

he watched patiently as you dabbed the streak of lipliner away, smiling gently when you turned back to meet his eyes. he wordlessly moved forward to cup your cheeks, finishing up lining your cupids bow.

“there,” he said softly, “now some lipstick.” you gestured to the various tubes on your desk as you moved to dust some highlighter on your cheeks.

geto picked a particularly lovely shade and smoothly glided it across your lips. he seemed proud at his handiwork, beaming at you happily as soon as he finished.

“take a look,” he smirked, and you did just that. the mirror showed you someone beautiful.

somehow, stupid suguru had actually done a good job.

“nice job,” you mumbled, feeling oddly shy beneath his gaze. he cleaned up nice tonight—a bit too nice. so nice that you weren’t sure how to act around him when he attempted to tie his tie.

“you mean sensational job,” he laughed, flinging his tie around. “also please help. i can’t do this.”

you sighed as you moved closer to fix his tie. you could catch a whiff of his cologne — something fresh and oddly mouthwatering and it nearly made you screw up the final flip of the fabric.

suguru was acting a bit different, and it was driving you crazy. his presence was much closer than usual, and with every passing day, it seemed impossible to ignore the glaringly obvious fact that’d been looming over you for weeks.

geto suguru, your best friend, was an extremely attractive man.

you still weren’t sure how to handle this information. so far, it’d been unwarranted blushes and a whole lot of random butterflies where there shouldn’t be.

you supposed the gala would give you time to think—but you were wrong.

geto walked in through the ornately decorated doors with a smile, an arm threaded through his hair and the other wrapped around your waist. from this point, you could see all your fellow students interacting with the heads of various charities, and donations racking up by the second.

suguru stayed close, his touch firm and steady and searing and confusing in ways you couldn’t understand.

“would you like to explore a bit?” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear.

too flustered to speak, you wordlessly nodded as he dragged you to the photo booth at the edge of the venue.

“these are awesome,” he laughed, holding up a particularly unclassy mustache prop. you cringed, distancing yourself as much as you good within the tiny space to show your disapproval.

suguru pulled you closer again, his hands caressing your waist in a way that was more reverent than anything you’d ever felt. he was too close…it was too much.

he leaned close to you, gently pressing his forehead against yours.

“maybe i did too good of a job tonight,” he said lowly, tracing your lips with his finger.

“suguru,” you breathed out, “what is going on?”

he pulled away grinning. “you had a dusting of highlighter a bit too close to this one spot of your nose. i had to distract you so you wouldn’t stop me from touching your face.”

you groaned in frustration while suguru posed jubilantly for the camera.

the gala was beautiful. the pictures with suguru were super candid. neither of those were your major takeaways.

as you returned to your room for the night, you knew one thing for certain. suguru geto had become someone more than a best friend to you and there was nothing you could do about it.

unknown to you, suguru fell asleep that night dreaming of you, and all the ways he’d kiss you if he had the chance.

#nova scribbles #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk drabbles #jjk headcanons #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #suguru geto x y/n #geto fluff #geto headcanons #geto drabble #suguru geto fluff

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Birthday Boy

A/N: A little something for our favorite birthday boy. Written for @fandom-free-bingo Happy birthday Tony Stark! Leave a heart, comment or reblog if you enjoyed the story.

Pairing: Tony Stark x Avenger! F! Reader (our reader has Falcon-like abilities and Red Wing as well)

Warnings: 18+ smut, fluff.

Word count: 2675

Square filled: “You’re coming with me.”

Fandom Free Bingo Masterlist

.

“You’ve got one on your left, Y/L/N. He’s armed. And does nine o’clock work for you?”

Rolling your eyes, you ignored the last bit of Tony’s sentence and jumped into action. Disarming the Hydra soldier wasn’t a big deal for you, what was distracting was the constant commentary coming in from the snarky billionaire who was hard to push off.

It was his birthday and you were one of his closest friends, all he wanted to do was go out, party and spend time with you - meaning he wanted you to potentially hook him up with someone while he did the same for you. And then the two of you would bitch about your respective dates over breakfast the next day, laugh and get over it, like you always did.

But this time around it was different. You were finding it harder and harder to keep your feelings for the man at bay. You couldn’t remember when it all actually went from friendship to something more, maybe it was around your fifth bad date when you felt super down in the dumps, Tony had been the best listener, he always was, he just never got enough credit for it. You spoke all night, he wiped your tears and made you feel better about yourself. You felt truly seen and heard. That was when you realized what lacked in all the other boys that you had found in Tony, someone you wanted the most and someone you probably could never have.

Which is why you were avoiding spending another drunken evening with the man, you would probably end up spilling your guts and if he didn’t feel the same way, you’d be left heartbroken and you would lose a really good friend.

“Good job, Y/N. You’re a solid addition to the team, unlike Legolas over here with his carpal tunnel syndrome.”

You chuckled as you heard Clint swearing at Tony over the comms, shaking you head, you continued your way into the building to extract information. Once you were done, you stepped out and made your way over to the jet where you were met with an impatient looking Tony.

“What?”

“You haven’t answered my question. Tomorrow, you and me, out on the town? It’s my birthday in case you forgot.” his big brown eyes implored you for an answer, standing in your way until you did. Sometimes you hated how persistent he could be, and more than that the fact that you fell for those gorgeous eyes every single time.

“Well?”

“Ugh. Fine! I’ll go. But you’re paying. And you will drop me home in case I get shitfaced.” you sighed, pushing him away and towards the bathroom to change.

Now you were kind of dreading tomorrow as much as you were looking forward to celebrating with your friend.

.

“How about fishnet stockings over there? She’s got a rack that would get you googly-eyed.” you tried to avoid the disdain in your voice as you nodded at the blonde who sat at the far end of the bar.

Tony was sucking on a wedge of lemon post the shots you two had downed before he turned his gaze in the direction you were pointing at. He hummed in appreciation but did nothing about it, simply went on ordering you some more drinks.

“What?” you frowned, secretly hoping he wouldn’t approach the woman because it would break your heart but Tony wasn’t one to shy away from a challenge. Especially when it came to women. He just loved showing off how much he ‘didn’t have to try’.

Tony shrugged, not answering you right away, instead he pushed a drink towards you, his knee nudging yours now that he had slid closer. The familiar smell of his cologne mixed with motor oil and coffee filled your nostrils, making you wish just for once you could snuggle closer to him and just revel in his scent. Pushing your luck a little, you laid your arm across his shoulder and angled your body towards him, to your surprise he pulled you closer and kissed your temple, making your little heart flutter hopelessly.

“Careful Stark, the ladies are gonna think we’re together and you might end up having an off night.” you teased.

“Tony Stark never has an off night, sweetheart. Never.” his breath fanned your cheek as he spoke, raising an eyebrow up at you just to make sure you understood his point. A tingle went down your spine as his fingers caressed the back of your neck, lightly grazing your skin.

This wasn’t good. No. Not since your feelings were on overdrive.

“Then why aren’t you going over to Fishnets? Come on, I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to warm your bed.”

Tony made a face at your words, one that had you frowning because it was unusual. He never answered though.

“What about you, Y/L/N? No guy worthy enough for your attention here? I thought one of those suited up, boring businessmen would be up your alley. What do you think?”

You looked over to where Tony was pointing, the guys were certainly handsome and by the looks of it seemed quite well to do. Maybe you could go up to them, strike up a conversation and eventually go home with one, in hopes of forgetting about your crush. Yeah, you certainly needed to get laid, it had been a while.

“Alright then. I will if you will.” you finished your drink and slammed it a little hard on the table than you normally would.

“What?” Tony frowned.

“You and Fishnets. Me and Mr. Suity-man over there. We’ll see which one of us hits the jackpot.” you winked, steadying yourself before giving Tony a little shove. It was a distraction you needed. Maybe watching Tony work his charm on another woman would work in helping you get over him finally.

.

Tony felt his blood boil at the sight of the fancy-ass suited guy wrap an arm around your waist while you giggled. The woman next to him was practically throwing herself at him, not the least bit interesting when it came to conversations and was pretty much laughing at everything he said, even if it wasn’t funny. Normally he would have her back at the penthouse already, be done with before heading down to his lab and have her sent off before he had his first cup of coffee in the morning. But it was different, he had no intentions of sleeping with that woman. Or any other woman that wasn’t Y/N.

These days, he only had eyes for her. Y/N made him feel things he didn’t think he was capable of feeling. Being with her made him feel like he was worth something, like he was finally being seen for who he really was. Her laugh made his heavy heart a little lighter, her presence felt like warm sunshine on a cold day.

And now he felt like he was blowing his chance with you by agreeing to this stupid bet. Catching her eye, he raised his eyebrows to ask how it was going, chuckling to himself when she made a disgusted face. That sent relief flooding through his system for some reason, at least she wasn’t going home with that stupid, tall guy.

A few moments later you both caught up at the bar for more drinks, letting out collective defeated sighs and shaking your heads.

“This pub is dull. I’m going home alone, aren’t I?” you huffed, feeling dejected and placing your head against your hand as you looked at the woman Tony was supposed to talk to, she had a sour expression on her face before she stormed off to where your potential date was. Maybe they would hit it off, you thought with a laugh.

“You and I both, Y/L/N. So? What was wrong with him?” Tony mirrored your position, eyes curious.

“Ugh. The guy wouldn’t stop yapping about football, he hates all animals and he thinks you’re just a big show-off.” You rolled your eyes, downing a glass of water in between to keep yourself hydrated.

“I mean, he’s not completely wrong,Y/N.” Tony shrugged. It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s called him that, hell, he had been called worse.

“Shut up. He couldn’t be more wrong.”

Something about your tone amused him though, the way you got so defensive about him kinda made him feel proud. And intrigued him to know more.

“I mean he had the balls to say you are a pompous, arrogant jerk who does things for nobody but yourself.” You scoffed.

“It’s not like he’s ever spent months in some cave in Afghanistan and escaped, turned his whole business around and bloody well succeeded, invented a frickin 'element, saved I don’t know thousands of lives? Formed the avengers? Been the most generous man I’ve ever come across and—”

Your sentence was cut short as Tony’s lips cut you off abruptly. Was it really happening? Utterly shocked at first, you didn’t respond for a few seconds which made him stop.

“Is that why you rejected him?” He murmured, now cupping your face tenderly with his hands.

“That and the fact that he wasn’t you.” You answered honestly, your heart thudding beyond control at this point as blood rushed to your ears and cheeks, turning them warm.

“You’re the only one I want too, Y/N. Always have.”

His confession turned your insides into mush, a grin forming on your face that you couldn’t control. It was just a little hard to believe that the man you wanted also wanted you in return. The kind of stuff only dreams and romantic novels are made of.

“You’re coming with me.”

Grabbing your hand Tony guided you out of the pub. And of all the people you could go home with, you were finally going with the one person you wanted the most.

.

There was a flurry of activity once you were back at Tony’s penthouse. Clothes strewn about, giggles echoing in the empty hallway along with fervent kisses.

Once you were down to your underwear, Tony stepped back to admire your body, his gaze darkening as he saw the lacy, red lingerie you wore. It was a happy coincidence but for him, it was enough to want you in every way.

“Is this my birthday present?” He pulled you flush against his chest, turning you around so your ass grazed against his growing erection. Lips pressed against your warm skin, his hands slid lower and lower until he cupped your clothed sex to find it damp with desire.

“Maybe this is? Hmm?” His breath was hot against your ear, fingers teasing your folds over your panties before sliding them aside to feel you.

Gently tugging on his hair, you turned around in his arms and pushed him on his back until he flopped on the bed, smirking up at you as you straddled his legs.

“Eager much?”

“Very much.”

Placing a hand on his chest, you lowered yourself on top and kissed him, smiling into it when it responded with equal if not more enthusiasm. Your tongue slipped past his mouth, earning a needy grunt from the man as you moved your hips deliberately over his, teasing his clothed cock as it eagerly twitched underneath you.

“How come it took you so long to kiss me, Stark?” your tone was light but accusatory as you nipped at his ear. The way he was kissing you first made you realize you weren’t the only one longing for this to happen.

“How come it took you so long to act upon your feelings, Y/L/N?” he inquired instead, holding your hips and sitting up with you, caressing your sides gently with a faint smile playing on his lips.

You knew he’d ask you this question, you took a deep breath and decided on going with honesty, he deserved to know the truth if this was ever going to work out. Whatever ‘this’ was.

“I didn’t know if you felt the same way, Tony. I was afraid of losing you. You’re a royal pain in my ass but you’re my friend, Anthony Stark. So whatever we’re doing here, or about to do, I don’t want it to affect our friendship, okay? I’m completely fine with the whole friends with benefits situation–”

Yet again, your little ramble was cut off by Tony’s soft lips, kissing your insecurities away delicately, allowing your heart to flutter a little.

“That’s the thing, Y/N. I don’t want to be your friend anymore–, you felt like your stomach dropped, for a second you couldn’t believe what was going on before he continued, “I want to be your boyfriend, the best and only one you’ll have. You’re my ray of sunshine and I want you all to myself. That is if you’ll have me.” he blinked up at you in all sincerity, fingers fidgeting against your skin nervously as he waited.

His confession sent a thousand butterflies fluttering in your belly.

“You need to stop cutting me off like that, Stark.” you murmured with a smile as you tugged on his hair, inching your face closer to him.

“Or what?”

You hummed, pushing him back down once more and letting your hair drape around his face as you slid a hand down his torso, down past his boxers to find his length eager for you. Your touch elicited a needy moan from the man as your fingers gripped him, giving him slow, lazy strokes.

“You’re bossy, I like it.” his mouth fell open at your ministrations, his breath coming in shallow.

You didn’t take long to undress then, kissing along his chest which was littered with scars the closer look you had. Tony hadn’t felt so vulnerable and yet safe at the same time, then again he’d never been with you.

You lined yourself up against him, watching him as you sank down on his cock, letting out a content sigh as he stretched you out completely. Slow at first, you began rolling your hips against him, feeling every last inch of him as you continued to kiss, swallowing his grunts.

“You feel so good, Y/N.” Tony sighed, digging his fingers into your hips, thrusting up into you for more.

“So do you, Tony. Fuck me, please.” your needy whisper was all he needed to flip you over so you were under him, still connected. Once he had your arms pinned above your head, he didn’t stop, didn’t stop until you were a writhing mess, crying out his name as he impaled you with his cock. His brutal pace had you clenching around him in desperation, wanting release as you clung to him.

“Come for me, Y/N. Let me hear you.”

Tony’s words undid you, making your pussy spasm around his length as you gushed, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. You were in a haze as his end approached, pulling out in time to come all over your thighs, spurts of his cum painting your skin white as he groaned in pleasure.

“I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had.” he panted, helping you clean up before cuddling you close, frowning when all you did was hum.

“I’ve had better.” you teased, his reactions always made the joke worth it. He tickled you until you begged for mercy, out of breath as you laughed with the man, feeling a sense of contentment being with him like this. His relaxed features and demeanor suggested he felt the same.

“Oh! I completely forgot!”

“What?”

“Happy birthday, Tony.”

💛Happy Birthday to our favourite ray of sunshine, Anthony Edward Stark💛

#tony stark x reader #fandom free bingo #tony stark smut #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark fluff #tony stark x you #tony stark imagine #tony stark one shot #tony stark #the stark squad #mostly marvel musings #marvel fanfiction #happy birthday tony stark #iron man #iron man x reader #iron man fanfiction

[theaceace]

I know that canonically (show-wise, at least) St Hilarion's worked to cover up Charles' death, and nothing was ever really done about the disappearance of Edwin and the other boys, but even so, do you think the school has a reputation for being haunted??

I'm imagining Niko following various ghost-hunter groups online, especially when the agency doesn't have many cases going on, and occasionally the boys will mirror hop over to an interesting-sounding location, and they'll even get a real case as a result

So when she tells them that one of the teams is planning to investigate St Hilarion's (either it's been closed for a while or they have special permission to go during the summer holidays), Edwin and Charles steel themselves and decide to go, in case there are other ghosts there that need help ('can't imagine a worse place to be trapped for the rest of my afterlife' says Charles, who has been to literal hell. Edwin, who spent 70 years in literal hell, agrees)

So they go, with Niko and Crystal as moral/emotional support, except when they get there they realise they've fucked up and are there on the same day/night as the ghost hunters. They could come back some other time, but what if there really are ghosts here that are suffering? No one wants to take that chance, so Crystal uses her powers to convince them that she and Niko are there for work experience, or are friends of a friend, or are here to replace one of the tech guys who called in sick

Both Charles and Edwin are tense and uncomfortable returning to the place they died - Edwin had gone there after he escaped Hell because he didn't know where else to go, but they've built themselves a home now with the agency. This isn't like before, when it was the closest place to familiar he could find. Charles, meanwhile, feels colder and colder the longer they're there - his hair is wet, there are bruises flaring and spreading, and a faint rattle in his chest that would have become pneumonia if he'd lived long enough

But they need to be sure there aren't any other lost ghosts stuck here that need their help crossing over, so they keep going

(maybe, as a consequence of a door to hell being opened in the school, there are unusual happenings, maybe there's still a place where the line between earth and hell is very thin, maybe there's some fragment of a demon left behind, and they can do something about it)

Anyway, the most important thing is that Charles, either accidentally or in a fit of pique at the whole situation, knocks something over just as one of the paranormal investigators is asking for spirits to make their presence known. In fact, this happens repeatedly - the boys move things, change things around, their presence is detected somehow with the equipment. Crystal and Niko are doing their best to distract the team and ruin as much of the footage as possible, and at least once the boys do something on purpose, maybe because someone is being a creep to the girls (and yes, they both know that Crystal and Niko are more than capable of taking care of themselves, but this way scares the asshole more and is also funnier), and then also to fuck with their readings

Anyway, it's coming to the end of the night, the problem has been identified, and whaddaya knows, of course it's in the attic where they both died. This is fine, why wouldn't it be fine. They get started, draw some (invisible, ghostly) runes and start working their magic when, of course, the paranormal investigators turn up, because this is thought to be the most 'active' area of the school, and the body of a schoolboy was found here in the 80s

Yeah, they try to contact 'any of the boys who disappeared in 1916' and Charles. It would be fine if they weren't so irritatingly loud, Edwin's trying to concentrate, and Charles is now shivering and dripping wet, but they managed to ignore the team right up until they start speculating that Charles was killed by one of the angry spirits from 1916

At which point, Charles - half visible, clearly enraged, looking very much like the half-drowned and frozen kid he was, like a proper ghost - tells them to fuck off already before they get hurt, they don't understand anything, and how dare they give a shit now when it's too late

Which is, of course, the exact moment Edwin finishes the spell, and causes some sort of a magical rebound that fritzes the cameras for a second, throws furniture around, and knocks them all flying. When the cameras start up again, they catch Edwin kneeling by Charles, holding his hand, and softly telling him that it's ok, it's over, they can go now. Charles sniffs and smiles and knocks their foreheads together and says yeah, let's get out of here, and together they fade from view

The investigators think this means gay love can pierce the veil of death and save the day that now that the truth of their story is known the ghosts have moved on, and it's all thanks to them! How beautiful, how wonderful, how affirming! Perhaps one of the boys from 1916 tried to help Charles, and when that didn't work, they both stayed to try and protect other people from these violent spirits, and now their unfinished business is finished! It's so tragic and touching story

Charles and Edwin, who are putting their tools back in the backpack, roll their eyes and smile at each other

On the way out, Charles swipes the memory cards from the cameras, Edwin inscribes a couple of sneaky runes on various pieces of equipment to fuck with it, and Crystal uses her powers to make sure they all remember a couple of details differently, so later they won't be able to agree on a bunch of stuff

The episode they were trying to make can't be released, their social media posts about the experience are full of details that don't match up, and fans are bitterly disappointed

Crystal and Niko watch the footage Charles stole with Jenny and the Night Nurse back at the agency. Jenny turns it into a drinking game. Charles does a dramatic reading of the posts with added commentary while Edwin pretends he's not laughing. They buy t-shirts of the paranormal investigators and wear them ironically. They leave anonymous comments

Just. The dead boy detectives having to work around ghost hunters, in a world where ghosts definitely, tangibly exist

#dead boy detectives #charles rowland #edwin payne #crystal palace #niko sasaki #Not exactly a writing tag

[worldofkuro]

Painted Smile

Painted Smile XXIV

<- Previous Chapter I

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: I... I wanted to wait a little moment before publishing the first chapter of season II. But, as you know me, I'm not a patient being, so I shall give you this chapter sooner than expected. I hope you will enjoy it, season II is going to be... wild, I think, but I hope you will love it as you loved season I. TW: Rape mention, smut, blood, knife play, cheating

“ Once again, the police have found a body, the right eye missing and a smile carved into the victim’s flesh. This had been going on for years, yet, the police, led by John Felleur, still haven't found a single clue about the serial killer that haunts New Orleans’s streets. The killer seems to attack men only, so my dear fellow gentlemen, you should stay vigilant!”

“ He loves the attention doesn’t he?”

You looked at Alice, as Alastor's voice was coming through the radio.

So many things have happened since your wedding, three years ago.  Alastor and you had succeeded in creating a bond between your two souls, making you elated. The three spirits that helped you were very interested in what would happen and sometimes, Legba or Baron Samedi would pop up next to you, wanting to talk.

Your control over your power has been getting better and better. You didn’t need to raise your hands anymore if you wanted to create your shield or telekinesised something, you just needed to think about it. You could cast your soul out of your body for one hour now. You could see things in another room thanks to your eyes or your shadow. Your shadow, which you inherited from Alastor’s power, was easily tamed. It was even useful, but it would always have some kind of fight because Alastor’s shadow would tease it.

Talking about Alastor, he has become stronger and more popular. His killing methods have become even more sadistic, more evil and cunnier but you loved him for that. You still killed pigs, Alastor would stalk them, finding every information about them if they were worth killing.  He always chose the filthiest of mankind, making it a pleasure to dispose of them. 

He never injured himself, he didn’t want you to use your healing power which created a huge argument between the two of you. You would hurt yourself to learn more about your healing abilities which almost made him snap. That day, you made a deal with him, Alastor would hurt himself on purpose and you would only heal what he said you could. You didn’t like the idea but it was mostly small cuts, nothing life threatening. 

Or you would heal yourself after Alastor has played with your body and a blade.

As skillful as he was as a killer, he was now a popular radio’s host. He would get invited to fancy soirée, always bringing you with him. He would dine with high society, finding new prey there. Sometimes, Alice would ask for your skills, telling you about new people to kill because of their sins.

Speaking of Alice, your best friend was wed.  After the incident with Larry, she decided to find a nice man so she could settle down with and she founded Tray Felleur. He was from John’s family, a cousin or something, you didn’t care. He was a rich man, he looked familiar, the Felleur’s genes must be strong. You were very worried when she told you her choice, but after meeting him, you felt a little more relieved. He was a nice, intellectual man. Alice told you he never forced her to do anything, letting her do what she wanted.

Which means she would meet Alyzéee, who was also wed to a man. Most of the time, Alice would wait for Tray to leave for work and Alyzée would come so they could still live their romance. She would feel guilty, sometimes wondering if she should tell her husband where her true feelings were. You and Alastor always said it was a bad idea, you didn’t want her to be in trouble, you asked her to wait a little longer. What for? You didn’t know yourself, you just… You could feel it in your bones, she had to keep her secret.

“ Well, Alastor has always been like this right?” you smiled at her, giving her a piece of cake. “ How are you feeling?” you asked her, worried. These days, she seemed paler than usual, always tired.  

“ Tired, but that might be because of yesterday’s soirée.” she winked at you. “ You should have seen Alyzée’s dress, she looked divine.”

You smiled at her, listening to her talk, fanning yourself. This summer was really hot for some reason. You gossiped together, talking about what was going on in New Orleans.

“ You don’t need another killing?” you asked as you drank fresh water. The last man she wanted dead was a man who had raped two women in two months. You enjoyed his screams more than you thought. 

“ It seems like you are the one who needs to kill something.” she mocked you. You rolled your eyes at her, you didn’t feel the need to kill like Alastor would, but it's been a long time since you sunk your hand into someone's eyeballs. 

You turned your head toward the entrance. He was home.

You smiled when you heard the door being opened. You stood up as you heard him walking into the living room. 

“ How do you always know when he is coming home! Each time, it’s a different hour!” asked Alice, always shocked when you could tell when Alastor was coming home.

“ Good evening, Alice. What an unhappy expecting surprise to you here.” said Alastor with a mocking smile. 

“ Even after all those years, you are still not a gentleman.” 

‘ Only with my wife, right, my love?’

You smiled when you heard Alastor’s thoughts inside your mind. It was a new power you both acquired when you bond your souls togethers. You could talk in each other’s mind which created funny moments.

Be nice, Alastor. Alice is staying for dinner.

‘Of course, she is.’

You walked toward Alastor and kissed his cheeks before going into the kitchen. You have been living together since your honeymoon, buying furnitures, painting the walls. You still haven’t finished one of the bedrooms. 

“ Unfortunately, I think I can’t stay with you for dinner.”

“ What? But I was going to make your favorite dish!” you shouted, going back into the living room with a pan in your hand. “ Did Alastor say something?”

“ Honey…”

“ Do you think he could make me change my opinion?” she raised an eyebrow.

“ Right, so why? Are you still feeling unwell?” 

“No… It’s just…” She sat on the sofa, sighing. You sat next to her, taking her hands while Alastor was looking at her with his usual smile. “ I am pregnant.”

….

“ What?” you said in unison with Alastor.

“ You told me he never forced himself on you!” You stood up, your eyes flashing red. Alice just stared at you in silence. You knew she saw your eyes flashing red multiple times but she never asked you anything about it. 

“ Do you need us to kill him?” asked calmly Alastor.

“ Calm down, the both of you. He didn’t force himself on me. I wanted a child, so this has to happen. He asked me multiple times if this is what I wanted, I said yes. He didn’t do anything bad.” she stood up, taking your hands in hers. “ But there is something worrying me. I think Alyzée is being stalked by someone… She says she feels like she is being watched.”

You looked at Alastor who seemed in deep thoughts. 

What do you think?

‘ Alyzéee is the daughter of the mayor’s who have been in power forever. It’s not surprising.’

Yes, but why now?

‘ That is something we shall need to discover.’

“ We will take a look at it. You, stay at home, we wouldn’t want a future mother to get hurt, right?” he smirked at her.

You looked at Alice.

“ So, you… are pregnant. Is it good news?”

“ Yes, I’m happy.” she put her hands on her belly with a shy smile. “ I’m going to be a mother.”

You screamed in joy before rushing into hugging her. You squeezed her against you, being mindful of her belly even if she was still not showing yet.

“ How long have you known?”

“Maybe… three months?”

You looked at her with a beaming smile.

“ Is it really good news, really?” you grabbed her shoulders. “ Please, do not lie to me.”

“ It is. Alyzée knows and she is happy for me. In a way… We think of it as our child.” She smiled at you, her cheeks flushed.

“ Well, congratulations ladies. This child will be happy to have Alyzée as its mother. I’m not sure about you..”

“ Fuck you, Alastor.”

“ See ?”

You smiled as you hugged her one more time. You walked her toward the door, making sure she was alright. She smiled at you, she seemed really happy about sharing her pregnancy’s news with you. Was she scared you would judge her? You promised her you would protect Alyzée from whatever was stalking her.

“ Nothing will hurt your family.” you said to her. Alice looked at you, taking your hand in yours.

“ You know, you are part of my family as well.” she whispered to you. “ Even Alastor but never let him know that.”

“ I heard you.”

“ Fuck off!” she shouted before looking at you. “ Please, be careful. If you need anything, ask me.”

You nodded before watching her go. You looked as the cab took her home. You went back home, looking at Alastor with an exciting smile. He was looking at you, tilting his head.

“ Why are you so happy?”

“ Alice is going to be a mother! “

“ Poor child.”

“ Alastor.”

You both went into the kitchen, preparing your dinner. If someone were to see the both of you, they would mostly think they were dreaming. You were moving everything you needed in the air with your power, the plates placing themselves on the tables, the vegetables being cut while Alastor was boiling the water.

You smiled when you saw Alastor’s shadow begin, once more, to tease yours. They were fighting each other, you could see them on the wall. You looked at the clock, you weren’t hungry yet…

“ Alastor, should we finish painting the last bedroom?”  you asked, taking off your apron. “ I’m not hungry yet.”

You watched as he looked at his watch and then he nodded, following you upstairs. You walked in and looked at the remaining wall you needed to finish. You took a paintbrush and dept it in the paint. You looked as Alastor took off his vest, staying in a light white shirt. 

You both painted before an idea emerged in your mind. You smirked as you looked at Alastor who was telling you about his day. You took your brush and called his name making him look at you and threw paint on his face.

“ … Are you sure you want to play this game, darling?”

“ What game?” you tilted your head, smiling innocently. Your smile widened when you saw his smirk. 

“ Mhn…”

You yelped when you felt the shadow held you while Alastor was painting your cheeks, smirking at you. You laughed, trying to escape from the shadow. Yours was jumping on Alastor’s, taking it away from you. You looked as both shadows were happily fighting each other. You quickly took paint and threw it at Alastor as he shielded himself with his arms.

You laughed, this life was the one you would protect.

After washing yourself, you went back to the kitchen to finish your cooking. You sat on the table and began eating.

“ How should we find Alyzée’s stalker ? Should we send our shadow?” you asked as Alastor made you eat from his fork.

“ Oh, my love, no.  Do we really need to waste our power for this?” he laughed, waving his hand in the air. “ We need to kill John, remember?” 

“ How could I forget? But right now, he isn’t a threat. The stalker could be, what if he found out about Alice’s relationship?” you asked as he wiped the sauce from your lips. 

“ If this is what you wish for, we shall take care of Alyzée’s stalker. It shouldn’t take long, nor be difficult.” he said as he leaned against his chair. You smiled at him, making him raise an eyebrow at you. “ What?”

“ You are so sure of yourself, I admire that.”

“ Because no one could make me doubt my abilities,” he said before kissing your forehead. “ You should stay with Alyzée, try to see if you feel something when you are with her.”

“ Should I cast an eye on her?” you tilted your head. It was a new power you acquired, you could watch someone. It was like your eyes were watching from above. 

“ You aren’t in full control of it and it’s tiring you faster than your other powers. Just keep Alyzée some company, tell me anything that is strange.”

You nodded, you closed your eyes. It was going to be easy.

—---

“ Yes, Alice told me you would… watch me?”

“ It's just like we are used to, hanging out. I’m just being a little more… watchful while we are together, Alyzée.”

Alyzée was in front of you, her long red hair moving with each movement she made, her deep blue eyes watching you, worried. You really were surrounded by beautiful people.

“ I’m more worried about Alice, I don’t want her to be sick because she is worried for me.” she said as she drank her tea. You looked at her, drinking your hot chocolate. You weren’t very close with Alzyée, she was more of an acquaintance but the conversations were always lovely with her. 

“ Alice is strong, no need to worry. Right now, you might be in danger.” you said to her. She shrugged with a little smile.

“ Nothing that I’m not used to.”

You looked at her, observing her.

“ How is your wedding going, Alyzée?”

“ It is going well. My husband is always out working, which makes me have more time with Alice, so it’s a win-win situation. We don’t really talk to each other, we don’t… really care about each other.  I might be envious of Alice’s wedding, they are like friends.” she said with a sad smile.

“ You know she only loves you.”

“ Oh, I know. I’m not doubting Alice’s affection for me, far from it.” she smiled at you. She put her cup down.

You stared behind Alyzée, a man was now sitting on the table behind her, his hat hiding his face.. You gestured to her to keep talking, fixing your gaze on the man behind you. Was he listening to you? What did he hear? 

“ What about your wedding with Alastor?”

“ I have never been happier.” You smiled at her, still staring at the man. “ And I shall protect this happiness I gain.”

You stood up, guiding Alyzée toward the exit after paying. You told her to walk to Alice’s home, before hiding yourself in a dark alley. If the man was stalking her, he would have to pass in front of you.

You waited patiently in the dark, but you never saw the man you were looking for. Maybe it was just an error from you…

You gasped as you felt yourself being tugged by your hair, your back hitting the floor. You turned your head toward the man who was tugging you deeper into the dark alley. You couldn’t see him at all but you were sure it was the man from the coffee shop, you could feel it. 

Your eyes flashed red, your shadow moving toward the man with a hideous smile. He let you go and you didn’t wait before standing up. You looked around, there was trash all around the alley. That would do. You moved the broken pieces of glass, nails and anything that could hurt, with your mind and threw them at the man who seemed to have escaped your shadow’s wrath.

You shouted in anger as you saw him running into an alley, your flying weapon digging into the wall. You ran after him, screaming at him to stop. As you turned into the alley, you hit something so hard it made you fall back on the hard ground. You moaned in pain, trying to stand up again, you couldn’t let him go, not yet.

“ Put your hands in the air, Police of New Orleans!”

You turned your head toward the light of a flashlight behind you. When you looked back in front of you, the man wasn’t there anymore. You spat blood on the floor, your eyes turning their usual color.

“ Are you okay, lady?”

“ Yes, thank you.” You turned around as the officer brought you in the busy street. You  flinched when you saw the man. “ John, what are you doing here?”

“ There is a serial killer on the loose, we are making patrol.” 

“ From what I heard, the killer murders men, not women.”

“ Can you just thank me? I just saved your life.” John said as he gave you a tissue so you could wipe your bleeding nose.

“ Thank you, officer.” you said sarcastically. “ Can I go home now?”

“ I’ll walk you toward a hospital, to see if you are okay.” You stared at him, as he put his gun back on his hips.  John seemed to have changed, he was more serious, he seemed taller but his gaze hadn’t changed when he was looking at you. 

You sighed as John walked beside you. You were so angry at yourself to have let this man go, you were this close to have him! You wanted to tear off your hair from your head, it was so embarrassing!

‘ Did he do that? Tell me, I’ll kill him right now.’

You stopped walking when you lifted up your head, Alastor was in front of you, it seemed like he had just finished working. 

“ Mr. Felleur, please tell me why my wife is injured, next to you?” he said as he smiled like usual even if you could see anger swirling in his eyes. “ Please, answer me quickly.”

“ Mr.Sanglar, your wife has been attacked by a man, I happened to be there to save her life.” John said as you ran into Alastor’s side. Your husband stared at your face, observing every emotion in your eyes. 

It’s nothing, I think I found Alyzée’s stalker. He seemed more aggressive than I thought.

‘ What about John?’

He came in time to make him flee.

“ Well, Officier Felleur, thank you for bringing my wife to me. I shall take it from here.”

“ I need her to write if she happens to see his face. It could be the serial killer I’m after.”

You tried to hide your smile while Alastor laughed out loud.  Oh, John…

“ Oh right, but I think she would have told you if she saw something, right? But this is not the case. So, if you allow us, we shall go.” He wrapped one arm around your waist before walking away from John who just stared at you.

You looked at the tissue John has given you to wipe your blood off your face.

“ Should I give it back?”

“ No, never give something with your blood on it.”

Alastor walked you back to your car, opened the door for you before settling behind the steering wheel. You waited for him to drive but he stayed silent. You looked at him, curiously.

“ Alastor, my love ?”

You flinched when you saw him punch the steering wheel, grinding his teeth. You stared at him, your eyes wide opened. 

“ I’m okay, darling. I just… didn’t expect to see you hurt.” He said before driving toward your home.

Home…

Wait.

“ Alastor no! Alice and Alyzée are maybe in danger!”

“ Does it look like I care, my love? You are hurt.” he said, his eyes never leaving the road.

“ Alastor, stop the car!” you shouted.

Alastor stopped the car on a deserted road, the one you always used to go home. He looked at you, his smile twitching. Your eyes were red and so was his.

“ Alastor, Alice is pregnant, Alyzée doesn’t know how to fight, they need us! What if the man is already there?”

“ Love of my life, curse of my sanity, Alice's family is the RicheMont. They have maids, butlers, their houses are on the richest quartier of New Orleans. Do you really think a mere human could walk in like that?” he asked you, his grip tightening on the wheel. “ They are safe there, my shadow is watching.”

You looked at Alastor, feeling relieved. 

“ Alastor… A mere human fought me.”

“ You used your powers?”

“ My shadow and Telekinesis.” you sighed, hiding your face in your head. “ But I don’t think he saw it. He was already running away when I used it. I think he must have felt my shadow like vines or something else.. And he ran away when he saw John behind me, the gun must have scared him off.” 

“ I see…” He took your face between his hands, staring at your face before kissing your lips. You sighed against his lips as he tugged you on his laps. “ Are you trying to make me mad, coming at me with blood on your face next to this prick?” he asked against your lips.

“ No…” you breathed against his lips, kissing him more eagerly.  You felt his hands on your waist, his nails digging into your skin through the clothes.  “ I’m just… Angry at myself?”

“ Why?”

“ Because I let my prey run away.” you stared at him, anger still present in your body. He looked at you with an amused expression. He stroked your cheeks while you leaned against his palm. 

“ Not for long… This man hurted you. His death has been decided.” You kissed his lips after his sentence.

“ This is my prey, Alastor, don’t steal it from me.”

“ He hurted you, my love. You can’t ask me to just–” you kissed him once more.

“ Yes, yes, but please, let me kill him in the end.” you smiled at him when you felt him relaxed underneath you. He nodded, sighing with a smile. You kissed his lips once more when you saw his smile and went back to your seat.

Alastor started back the car, driving you home. You walked home and sigh in bliss, nothing was better than being home. You let yourself fall on the sofa, what a day.

You let your husband cook for you as you looked at yourself through the window of the living room. You stood up and walked toward a mirror and saw the bruises on your face. You quickly took off the top of your dress and winced when you managed to see the cut on your back. Was it from when the man dragged you on the floor?

You sighed before concentrating on each cut. You could feel your power healing each cut, even the bruises on your face. This cold energy was seeping through your body, like a sweet caress before taking the pain away.

You opened your eyes, looking at the purple hues that were staring back at you. You saw Alastor watching you through the mirror, his arms crossed on his chest. You tilted your head as he walked toward you. He kissed your bare back, kissing each place a bruise has been made before you healed yourself.

You smiled softly, you wondered if he was aware he was doing the same thing you used to do when he was injured. Kissing his scars… You turned to him when you felt his arms wrapped around you. He kissed your face, his eyes looking at you.

“ Don’t let others injure you my dear. This is my privilege, isn’t it?” he tilted his head, his eyes never leaving your face. You nodded when you felt his nails on your back. You sighed in bliss when you felt his nails dig into your back, the same place where the bruises had been a moment ago.

“ Please…” You looked at him, through half closed eyes. “ Mark me…”

You gasped when you felt him pin you on the table, your chest against the hardwood. You almost whined when you felt the cold blade against your back. You turned your head toward him, begging him with your eyes.

He slid the knife against your skin, tracing the cut you just have healed, the cut that wasn't from him but someone else. You closed your eyes, feeling your body relax. You wondered if it was normal to feel safe when your loved one was cutting your skin, never deep enough to hurt you, to scar you but deep enough to root you, to make you remember who was the one behind this knife. 

You moaned your husband's name as he kissed your neck, feeling the blood sliding from your back. He hummed against your skin, kissing the blood that was coming from the small cuts he made. 

You pushed your behind against his waist. You felt his smile against your skin, as you moaned.

“ I need to feel you…”

“ Mhn.. Really..?” he said, cutting your dress from your legs until he could see your bare form underneath him.

You shivered when you heard him take off his belt. You bit your lip when you felt the blade cutting your skin once more and your eyes rolled back when you felt him penetrate you slowly. You could feel every veins on his penis, your walls clenching around him.

 He kissed your neck as the blade cut your skin once more, his hips pushing against you. You were holding on the table, trying to think. All you could feel was Alastor, inside you, around you. You watched as one of his hands was next to your head, holding himself up with this hand because the other one was busy carving into your skin.

You opened your mouth before biting him hard on the wrist. You heard his breath hitch, before biting harder against his skin when you felt him set a pace that made your eyes rolled back into your skull. 

“ Fuck… !” you heard him moan, making you clench on his member.

You whined, your head swirling with arousal. How you loved when Alastor wasn’t his composed self. 

You bite his forearms once more, your teeth digging into his skin, making him lose his pace, his hips pounding into. You grabbed the end of the table, crying from pleasure, screaming your husband’s name.

I love you.

‘ I love you.’

You came on his member as he dug the knife on your back once more. You felt like the world stopped, keeping your teeth in his arms, your hands gripping at the table, your walls clenching on his shaft, you almost black out when you felt Alastor’s pace getting faster and roughter.

You gasped, breathing once more when you felt Alastor’s weight on your back, his seed filling your womb. You held his hand, trying to root yourself to him, still sensible from your orgasm. You were both panted hard, coming back to yourself.

“ Are you with me, my love…?” Panted Alastor, his hand letting go of the knife and caressing your soft skin. “ Come on, dear…”

“ Yes… Yes… I’m okay..” you squeezed his arms, reassuringly.

He leaned back, after kissing your neck one last time. You sighed when you felt him leaving your warmth. You looked at him as he admired his handiwork on your back.

“ Do you want to heal it?” he asked, stroking your uncut skin.

You softly shook your head with a fond smile.

“ No, I want to feel them a little longer…”

He smiled before leaning down to kiss your lips. You kissed him back, stroking his cheeks with your right hand. How you loved him…

“ After all the killings I have done, you are my best prey,  my love.”

You giggled at his words. You stood up slightly, sighing in bliss when you felt each cut on your skin. What delicious pain your husband had given you…

He kissed your neck with a big smile.

“ Now, how should we trap our next prey?”

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