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celtic-crossbow · 1 month

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Blood Ties Chapter 25

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Poorly written smut; Pregnancy symptoms; Pregnancy exams; Mild angst

A/N: I hope others laugh at this as hard as I did while writing it. Even if you don't, it's okay. I was greatly amused and I'm not ashamed.

Another cold night, but at least the house was on a hill and surrounded by trees on most sides; a large structure with a gated driveway. The fire was roaring and everyone was bedding down for the night in the same room since the last few times of sleeping in different rooms or on different levels had proven problematic when quick escape was needed. Carol chose to lay closer to the fireplace so you and Daryl could have the bedroll to yourselves—when you actually chose to go to bed.

“Has anyone seen Daryl or Y/N?” Lori asked after laying an extra blanket on your bedroll.

“She probably had to pee again.” Carl giggled from his sleeping bag.

“Do you need something, Lori?” Carol sat up, hugging herself from the cool air when her blanket fell a little. Carol knew exactly where the two of you were and she would make sure you were left alone there.

You had gone from touch me not straight into don’t stop touching me. While Daryl felt pride in the fact that you only had eyes for him, he may or may not have been beginning to wonder if you could possibly break his dick. It had been nearly three straight days of a constant desire for him. That day alone, you had begged him to take you straight into the upstairs bathroom of the huge house and stuff you with three fingers, fucking two orgasms from you within moments. The two of you had filed back in with everyone else before your absence was even noticed.

Everything had barely been brought from the vehicles before you were saying you needed to pee, tapping one finger against the middle of Daryl’s palm as you took his hand. A clear signal. Five minutes later, you were bouncing on his cock (with a little help) while he was sprawled out by a tree.

And now, Daryl was panting harshly, not even bothering to tuck himself away before or after he slid down the wall and landed on his ass. You were still bent over the sink, thighs a sticky mess, his spend leaking from your deliciously abused cunt. Grabbing your panties, leggings, and sweats to drag them up over your hips was almost impossible. Almost. You dared not ask your poor partner.

You had been insatiable for him, needing his hands on you constantly. You seemed to be in a perpetual state of arousal, and god did he feel good. He had not complained a single time, even when it was clear he was tired or worried about something else. He took care of you first and foremost. And well, he was getting laid, so it wasn’t like he got nothing out of the deal. But as you turned to face him in that very moment, he just looked wrecked. Like if he tried to satisfy your urges one more time, he might literally die. With a fond smile, you stepped toward his outstretched legs and tapped the sole of his boot with the toe of your own.

“Get up.” The look he gave you from beneath his lashes wasn’t angry. Far from it. It was reluctant and exhausted but he began to lever himself upright without a word, one corner of his mouth drawing upward for a brief moment when he was standing before you, seemingly awaiting your command. God, you had to admit that it was causing some seriously hard to ignore feelings in an area that had many times already been thoroughly fucked. You kept your eyes on his even as his pretty blues followed your hands toward his cock. He made no move to pull away or complain but you could have sworn you saw his entire body melt when you began to gingerly tuck him away. “Thank you for taking such good care of me.” You planted a kiss on his cheek. After everything he’d done for and to you that day, it was the gratitude that made him blush. You couldn’t have stopped the giggle if you tried. “Let’s go get some sleep, okay?”

“Ya good, then?” His hand came to rest on your hip, eyes questioning.

“I’m better than good, Daryl. You,on the other hand, are about to fall asleep standing.” The archer didn’t argue. He must have known he was swaying on his feet. Driving and lugging around supplies and taking care of you, he had to be bone-weary. Regardless of your discomfort, the ache already returning in full force, you wanted him to rest. He was trying so hard to take better care of himself at your request—eating full meals, sleeping a little more, wearing more clothing when hunting so he stayed warm—that you didn’t want to be the cause of fucking up all you had worked so hard to instill in him. “Come on, sleep time for you.”

He simply nodded and let himself be led from the room with quite the yawn. It was all eyes on you the moment the two of you stepped foot inside the large den, the warmth of the fire overwhelming any anxiety the stares could have even remotely caused. Arousal was quickly dampened by the lure of impending sleep and warmth. Dary was not taking watch, set to hunt the next morning, so you’d have him to yourself all night.

He let you under the blankets first, assisting you down until you were situated on your side. When he climbed in after you, he took his usual position and angled himself so that your belly could rest on his stomach and hip while you could curl right into his chest. As wound up as you had been only moments before, your body was now succumbing to the siren call of sleep. You just needed to take care of one more thing.

“Daryl?”

“Hmm?” Even that simple acknowledgement was somehow slurred. You had really worn him out.

“Sleep late and then go hunting, okay?” You wondered how hard you’d need to fight him. He gave in on a great many things as the pregnancy progressed and you became more and more uncomfortable, but hunting was his time to recharge. You didn’t want to take that away from him, but you were also afraid of him spiraling back into bad habits.

“Okay.” He breathed, sounding more than half asleep. You blinked against his chest. So, you just needed to fuck him senseless to get him to agree to important things. Noted.

“Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

“I love you.”

He was already softly snoring, his warm breath disturbing your hair.

When you awoke, the sun’s warmth could not compare to the heat of the flames from the night before, but it was still welcome. It meant you had survived into another day. The fact that you were still firmly pressed against Daryl was an absolute bonus. It was well into the morning and he was still absolutely sound asleep. You weren’t worried that he was sick, even if the others most likely had their concerns. They were all accustomed to greeting him when they stepped outside to start the day or finding him completely absent on a hunt. You knew exactly why he slept late.

You felt him inhale deeply and begin to stir, grumbling something you didn’t understand. Pulling away to stretch, you felt a tug on your skin, drawing your attention to your chest, where your shirt had pulled from your flesh but was still stuck to Daryl’s button-up. “What the fuck?” The mortified look on the archer’s face said that he was thinking the same thing you were. You didn’t remember cum getting on your shirt or his, but you weren’t exactly thinking straight either. “Where’s your bag?”

Daryl jerked his chin toward the area just behind you. The man may have opened up around you and Carol but if anyone else saw this, even if they didn’t choose to laugh or tease—which was unlikely—you feared that Daryl would shut down and pull away from you.

“And mine?” You asked, biting your lip.

He cleared his throat, the sound stuttering. “S’there too.” His back was to everyone but he’d know who was there. He had a way of identifying people through breath and footfall that was truly impressive. You, on the other hand, had to crane your neck to scope out the area. Carol was putting away some leftovers the best way she could. Lori was sitting with Carl, a math book on the kid’s lap. Glenn was laughing with Maggie in the doorway. Too many people. Daryl would likely run away, never to be seen again.

“Okay, first thing’s first.” You pried the articles of clothing apart, wincing at the nearly imperceptible sound that was likely heard by no one but sounded like a chainsaw to your ears. “I’m gonna go under the blankets so you can reach my bag for a different sweater. May as well grab your shirt while you’re there.”

“Gonna think you’re suckin’ my—”

“Well, you have two choices.” You whispered. “We can get up, grab our clothes to go change, and hope for the best. But we will have to walk past Glenn.” You peered around Daryl’s head to find Glenn and Maggie exactly where they had been, only T-Dog had joined them. “Or we can try and change under these blankets. I’ll giggle and mention Thumper, and they won’t think anything of it.”

“Right.” Dary didn’t seem convinced but kept the blankets high over both of you while he reached across your head, snagging both of your bags by the small strap at the top. He dragged them over and riffled through them, swallowing convulsively while pulling out shirts for each of you. “Got ‘em.”

“Okay, this might be a little tricky, but it’s doable.”

It was indeed tricky, but it was also indeed doable. The blankets were over your heads as you changed, with your originally planned giggles easily shifting into real ones. Thumper had joined the party and seemed to be aiming for their dad’s crotch each time your bodies touched. You could have sworn you heard a huff of a laugh from Daryl a couple of times as well. With a chuckle of hold still, you made sure the buttons of your partner’s shirt were even and patted his chest.

“All jizz free.” You whispered with a nod, feeling his fingers brush your skin while he pulled your pale blue, long sleeved t-shirt down to cover your belly.

“Gross.”

“You say that like it’s been in your mouth before.” The look on his face had you laughing out loud and Daryl throwing back the blankets before the others could assume anything more was happening. The archer clambered off the bedroll and stretched, then held out a hand to you. You swatted it away. “I’m gonna stay here for a bit. My back hurts.”

“Whatever.” He shrugged. “M’goin’ huntin’. Ya stay close to ev’ryone else, ya hear?”

“I will. I promise.” When you met his eyes, they were full of such softness that you could almost feel it on your skin. He was taking each promise you made to heart and trusting you to keep them. And you would, even if staying inside made your skin crawl sometimes. Hell, being outside made your skin crawl. With the hormones taking over, you were fighting a losing battle, so you might as well choose the side that kept you and Thumper safe.

“Alright then. Be back ‘fore dark.” Daryl grabbed his crossbow from against the nearest wall, brushing a hand over the top of your head before it latched onto the top of his bag to hoist it off the floor, his gaze still meeting yours. “Promise.”

So this was a thing now. Promises between you. It both terrified you and filled your heart to the point of nearly bursting. You gave him a nod whilst fighting back the tears you knew would come the moment he was out of sight. He didn’t need to worry that he’d done something wrong. And he would because Daryl was still learning how to process anything that didn’t hurt. He was definitely still working on his social skills if his bark of what’re ya lookin’ at toward Glenn was anything to go by. Both he and Maggie looked at you with wide eyes but you just waved it off.

“Ignore him. He doesn’t know how to people. You know that.”

“Well, he sure knows how to Y/N.” Maggie chided, smiling as she sat down next to you. You chuckled nervously, struggling to sit up so you could shove the dirty clothing into your bag.

“Shush. We just get each other and it was a long road to get to this point. Plus, I think he likes Thumper just a little.” The baby was active, already missing Daryl’s presence which would never cease to amaze you. “Who’s doing laundry today? I’d like to help.”

Maggie was already shaking her head before you could finish speaking. “Daddy needs to check you out. You’re almost 36 weeks, Y/N. You could go into labor anytime. Ask him what you can do and what you can’t and then we’ll worry about laundry.” You made a whining noise in the back of your throat and almost plopped back down on the bedroll but thought better of it at the last minute. It took so much effort to sit back up.

“Fine. Can he come now?” You sighed.

Maggie gave you a comforting smile and squeezed your shoulder. “Sure. Let me go get him.”

You nodded with a tight-lipped smile. She was absolutely right. Thumper’s arrival was growing closer and closer by the day; the hour even. And you were scared. What if something went wrong? You’d seen in the movies that the baby could get stuck. The cord could be wrapped around their little neck. Your pelvic structure could prohibit a natural birth and you would need a cesarean section. Were there even supplies for that? What about sedation or local anesthetic? What if Daryl decided then that it was all too much and ran? You couldn’t do any of it without him, you knew that now.

“Easy, young lady.” Hershel soothed, already having knelt beside you at some point. “You’re white as a sheet and hyperventilating.”

“S–sorry. I’m okay.” You stammered, leaning back on your hands so he would have access to your belly. “Just— I’m scared shitless, Hershel.” As per usual, his steady hands hovered until you nodded your permission for him to roll up your shirt. The moment the cool air hit your skin, there was movement below it, a hand or foot pushing up hard enough that you could actually see it.

“Well, they’re definitely active.” The old man chuckled. “Let’s see if we can check the heartbeat around all that wiggling.” You laughed but it was real, muffled by the fear welling up in your chest. “Well, the heartbeat is great. I need to do an examination, both external and internal. I will explain everything before proceeding. Would you be alright with that? We can go in the downstairs bedroom with Maggie or Beth if you would be more comfortable.”

Maggie was already leaning in the doorway with Glenn, giving you a nod that she was fine with being present. “Yeah, okay.” You started trying to get up on your own but that proved to be futile. Before you could even ask, Glenn was holding out both hands. “Thank you.” You whispered. This was all so personal and it felt like you shouldn’t be going through any of it alone. “Has—did Daryl leave already?”

“He may still be outside. Rick grabbed him for something. I’ll go check.” The words came out so fast that you barely caught them before Glenn was gone and Maggie was helping you lie down.

“I mean, can this wait if he isn't here? I don’t—” The tears came before you had any means of stopping them. You couldn’t sit back up without assistance so you just pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes and sobbed, chest heaving and body trembling. You wanted Daryl, after trying so hard to prove you could handle things without him. You needed him.

“The hell’d ya do to ‘er?!”

You had never been so relieved to hear that irritated tone. Gasping for air, you reached blindly for him, his hands wrapping around your forearms to pull you up and against his chest.

“Nothing, son. We were going to do an exam to check the baby.” You opened your eyes to see Hershel standing several feet back with his hands up, palms out. Maggie wasn’t glaring but she looked serious, ready to defend her father. “It would be invasive and she was frightened. We wouldn’t have done anything without her permission.”

“I just—wanted you—I wanted you here.” You hiccupped, gripping his shirt tighter. There was a jerk of his body and then the sound of the door closing. You were alone with him.

“M’here.” He didn’t move other than to pull you in tighter, the hold would have been uncomfortable any other time but it was exactly what you needed at that moment. “Wanna tell me what happened?”

“He—he needed to do something inside. It wasn’t that—I didn't think he was gonna hurt me and Maggie was here, but it just felt like something you should be here for too. Like a huge event in all this.” You sniffled, wiggling a hand free after a bit of struggle so that you could wipe your face on your sleeve. “I’m sorry, I know you wanted to hunt.”

“Nuh uh. Wanna be here more. The fuck he need to go inside for?” Now he sounded more than irritated, as if Hershel was trying to take advantage of you in some way.

“There’s gonna be a lot of that, I think. I mean, if everything goes well, the baby’s coming out of my vagina, so I guess he needs to be all up in there to make sure it’s ready or something? Doesn’t it mention this in one of your books?” You pushed against his chest, but he hesitated in letting go. Finally, he dropped his arms but kept a hand on the top of your stomach. Thumper’s movements slowed to flutters.

“Ain’t had much time for readin’, Sunshine.”

You were in the middle of rubbing your eyes when you slid them to the side, your nose scrunching and mouth tilting into a smile. “Sunshine?”

“S’that or ‘pain in my ass’. I ain’t picky.” He huffed, picking at a thread on his tattered button-up.

“I’ll take Sunshine, thanks. You’re adorable, Daryl Dixon.”

“Ugh, don’t get sappy.” He curled his lip, pulling away when you reached for his face.

“You already took it way past sappy, sir.” When he kept that small distance, you grabbed his collar and tugged him forward to press a kiss to his mouth. He reciprocated without hesitance, a small reassurance you reveled in when it came to your relationship. “Thank you for not running.”

“Ain’t a pussy. Told ya from the get-go that we’d handle it.” His forehead was against yours, the tip of his nose nuzzling your own. “Called ya Sunshine back then too.”

“That, you did.” You recalled the memory fondly. God, he was such an asshole back then. Still was in some ways but he was yours. You distantly wondered if he always had been. “Just needed a little help bringing out the inner romantic.”

“Don’t push it. Don’t got a romantic bone in my body.”

You hummed, done with teasing him for the moment. “I guess we should let Hershel do what he needs to and get it over with.” You bit your lip, sliding it back and forth between your teeth. “Will you stay?”

“Course.” His knuckles gently grazed your jaw and then he was up and opening the door, jerking his head toward you to invite them back inside. “Don’t make ‘er cry again.” He warned, taking his spot beside you and helping you lie back.

Hershel only smiled. “I’ll try my best, son.” Maggie wasn’t there but came in, carrying a bowl of water and a cloth, before the old man could do anything. “There’s a couple of things I need to examine. First, I’ll do an external examination. I’m going to palpate your abdomen, feel the position of the baby. At this stage in the pregnancy, we want to ensure the baby is turning into a head down position. They should come out head first, not feet. Is it alright for me to continue?”

You nodded quickly. With Daryl there, the anxiety was held at bay. The man formed a physical wall between you and the fear that wanted to suffocate you, whether he knew it or not. He was watching intensely as your shirt was lifted, the veterinarian’s hands moving with a knowledge you were surprised to find he possessed given he had only dealt with animals. He was likely reading just as Daryl had, probably more.

You winced when it seemed he was squeezing around the baby’s form, though the touch was gentle, feeling Daryl tense beside you. Your hand found his immediately and he settled.

“Ev’rything good, doc?” The archer’s voice was just shy of a snap. He muttered an apology when you squeezed his fingers.

“It seems the baby has mostly turned to the correct position. Have you felt any increase in pelvic pressure or need to urinate?”

“She’s been pissin’ like a racehorse for weeks.” Daryl huffed, earning an elbow to the ribs.

“No more than usual.” You clarified. Hershel nodded.

“It’s unlikely that the baby has dropped then. I have limited experience with human patients but I have had wives that gave me children. When they dropped, it was described to me as a sudden weight deeper in the pelvis. They could breathe easier and felt hungrier, as there was more room in the upper abdomen. The need to urinate increased even more than it already had throughout the pregnancy.” You were nodding, Daryl was squinting, soaking it all in and filing it away. “Just let me know when you feel those changes, okay?”

“Okay.” You answered quietly, this time feeling Daryl squeezing your fingers.

“This next part will be invasive, and I’m sorry for that. I need to check your cervix, see if it’s softening or dilating.” When Daryl didn��t comment, you were sure those were terms he had read. You vaguely knew what they meant from the movies you had seen. “I can have Maggie remove your—”

“I got it.” Daryl interjected, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles before releasing your hand. You watched him move, biting your lip when he pressed one knee between your feet and reached to grab the waistband of your layers, bringing all three down in motion. You had to think of anything else to keep Hershel from seeing what Daryl had the ability to do to you. Placing your clothes by your feet, the bowman cleared his throat. “Make it quick.”

Hershel smiled and shook his head while washing his hands with the soap and water Maggie had brought but he said nothing about Daryl’s protectiveness. Perhaps he understood how fragile the archer’s ability to handle his emotions truly was, and with that knowledge, he saw no reason to put further strain on the young man.

“I’m going to begin the pelvic exam now. It might be a little uncomfortable.”

“Okay.” You took a deep breath, closing your eyes with a smile when Daryl’s arm wiggled beneath you to wrap around your shoulders. Hershel was right, it truly was uncomfortable. It wasn’t at all like what you had imagined, which to be quite honest, you thought it would be more like being fingered by Daryl. This was in no way pleasurable. First of all, it was Hershel. Secondly, there was pushing down just below the baby while at the same time, moving two fingers. It wasn't just uncomfortable. It was really uncomfortable. At one point, you whimpered ow and had to grab Daryl’s forearm to keep him from lashing out.

Finally, it was over. Hershel was washing his hands again. “The cervix is softening, which is exactly what we want at this stage according to my reading. You’re not dilated, which is also what we’d like right now. That could begin to change in a few days, and that would be okay. There’s no way of really knowing exactly how far along you are but based on what I know of you, and keeping up with the calendar the best I could, you are right at 36 weeks.” You nodded, smiling softly as Daryl reached forward to push your knee down, urging you to close your legs even while he never looked away from the old man.

“That’s good, right?” You asked, struggling to sit up until Daryl looped an arm behind you again and easily got you there.

“That’s wonderful. It’s my opinion, which isn’t the best mind you, that you could safely have this baby anytime now.”

You took a deep breath and nodded, watching all the color drain from Daryl’s face beside you. “Daryl?”

“You alright, son?” Hershel’s expression showed concern but his eyes were laughing. He knew the look on Daryl’s face and he knew it well. “It’s okay to be nervous. You’re a first time father. It will be—”

“G’on, old man. M’fine.”

You chuckled. “Thank you, Hershel. I feel a lot—” Moving to sit up straighter, you looked down when you felt cold against your skin. Two quarter-sized wet patches were clear on your pale blue shirt, just over your nipples. “What the hell?” Even Maggie’s eyebrows were raised. Daryl just looked as puzzled as you did.

“That’s colostrum.” The old vet answered as if you knew what the fuck that meant. “It’s the first thing your breasts produce to feed the baby when it’s born, before the actual milk comes in. This is a good sign that your body is getting ready.”

“Like—soon?” You gulped.

“It doesn’t have an effect on the timeline, one way or another. It just means your body knows what it’s doing. You may want to ask for some breast pads on the next run or just fold some cloth for your bra.”

“Wait—so that wasn’t cum?” It was out of your mouth before you had processed a single word of it. Hershel’s brow furrowed, Maggie doubled over laughing, and poor Daryl was three seconds from jumping out the window. “I’m just—oh god, just leave us to die in here, thanks.” You could still hear Maggie laughing after the door closed but luckily she had nodded in reaction to your pleading look to keep it to herself. When you looked at him, Daryl's elbows were on his knees and his face was in his hands. You could see the red flush traveling all the way to his ears. “It wasn’t jizz. Yay?”

“Just—stop talkin’.”

“I love you.”

“So ya keep sayin’.”

#murda writes #blood ties #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #pregnant!reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon twd #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 9 months

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i absolutely love the prompt you have "I'm pretty sure we almost broke up last night" cause major swiftie and I will only read that like she says it in stay stay stay so can you pretty please to conrad x reader with that prompt when you get the chance tysm take ur time

Silly little one I forgot I started writing a week ago

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

The best relationship advice your mother ever gave to you was that you should never leave a fight unresolved or go to bed mad at each other. You and Conrad had been pretty good at doing that…until last night.

To be fair, the whole situation had everyone on edge.

After his exam, you and Conrad emptied his dorm and hit the road. He had slept less than five hours last night so you kindly offered to drive while he caught up on sleep. Everything was going well, until you accidentally took a wrong turn and ended up in a totally different place. You tried to get back on the right road, but panicked when you couldn’t figure a way…then Conrad woke up, grumpy and still tired, and started criticizing your driving skills.

To add to the situation, rain and thunder decided to join you. A little rain and thunder didn’t scare Conrad, but they decided to close the highway, forcing the two of you to stay at a motel for the night.

You showered and changed out of your wet clothes, while Conrad did his own thing. When you came out, he was there, in his pajamas, taking out extra blankets from the closet and setting them on the floor.

Getting what he was doing, you stopped him. ‘’You’re not sleeping on the floor. Don’t be ridiculous.’’

You had a fight, but you weren’t that mad at him. He just struck a nerve.

Conrad's tired eyes met yours, but he didn’t say anything as he moved his pillow to the bed. He drew back the covers and laid down, his back turned to you.

A knot formed in your stomach, hurt, and you turned off the lamp, plunging the room in the dark without exchanges of ‘goodnight’s. Rare were the occasions where you and Conrad were sharing a bed and alone, but instead of taking advantage of it, you were caught in an uncomfortable silence where neither of you found sleep.

You tried to close your eyes, but couldn’t. So you listened to the loud rumbles of thunder and the tapping of the rain until your eyes couldn’t stay open.

Just as you were about to fall asleep, Conrad spoke.

‘’What I said earlier, I didn’t mean it,’’ he said in the quiet of the room, knowing you weren’t asleep either. ‘’I’m sorry. You’re not the worse driver I know.’’

A tired smile twisted on your lips...and you felt yourself drifting to sleep.

When you woke up, the morning light seeped through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the motel room. The rain from last night had finally subsided, meaning you’ll be able to get back on the road and go home.

Beside you, Conrad was still sleeping. You watched him for a moment, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the way his dark hair fell over his forehead. It might sound dumb, but you missed him.

You heard a muffled groan, getting excited as Conrad slowly stirred. His eyes blinked open, struggling to adjust to the daylight coming from the window, and you chuckled. You didn’t think of drawing the curtains all the way last night.

‘’Morning,’’ you greeted with a soft smile, brushing hair from his face.

"I'm pretty sure we almost broke up last night," he said, his voice a little deeper from sleep.

You rolled your eyes. ‘’You’re exaggerating.’’

Conrad sighed, looking up at the stucco ceiling. ‘’We had this big fight over something so stupid—’’

‘’Real relationships are not perfect, Con. Even the ones who seem perfect aren’t. They fight with their partners and that’s totally normal. We’re not gonna break up because I didn’t pay enough attention and took a wrong turn. That’s ridiculous.’’

There was a silent pause, then Conrad laughed.

—

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rooksamoris · 8 months

Text

💞 — 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄.

💞 — diluc , zhongli , beidou , deuce , jamil , rook

💞 — gender neutral reader

💞 — a little suggestive in beidou's and rook's

🩷 — DILUC RAGNVINDR.

He loves when you come visit him in the tavern. Regrettably, he is far too busy to spend hours and hours with you, so these little attempts of yours are extremely endearing. Most already know not to take that spot by the counter where you tend to sit. Sometimes you’ll read, draw—perhaps write about your love for Diluc, and he just finds it so endearing. He’ll refill your drink without question and occasionally lean his arms over the countertop to talk with you, “You seem invested in that story,” he’d say, his expression neutral as ever. He couldn’t hide the love in his eyes though, “Take a break from reading. I’m free for a bit now.”

🩷 — ZHONGLI.

Archons, when you rest your head in his lap—he just loves it. It’s a common occurrence at this point. He’ll take you to the most beautiful landscapes in Liyue, and as he sits on the grass, you instinctively take it as permission to rest your head on his thighs. You look up at him with such admiration and curiosity as he speaks the histories of generations in that deep voice of his. His hands find their way into your hair and along your cheek, tracing down your jawline and to your collar, “It’s as if your curiosities can never quelled,” he teases, softly, “I wouldn’t mind more of your questions if it means we can be like this for a moment longer.”

🩷 — BEIDOU.

Her favorite thing to watch is your dancing on the ship's deck. Whether it be a soft sway in your hips whenever you’re sweeping or if it's while the crew celebrates with music, she’s locked onto you as you dance. In the late nights while the crew drink, dance and sing, she’ll wrap her arms around you from behind, hiding her face in the crook of your neck and nibbling the skin, “You dance so beautifully,” she’d mutter, her voice slurred. She probably drank more than the crew combined. Her cheeks are flushed from the proximity and the alcohol. A soft chuckle comes from her lips and she bites your neck, “Let’s go dance in private, sweetheart.”

🩷 — DEUCE SPADE.

His heart races just a little faster whenever you praise him for his grades. Deuce has been trying his best to be a better man for you and his mother. One of the qualities on this list is academic excellence, since he didn’t do very well at all in middle school, and one thing that keeps him going is your praise. After an exam, he’s quick to push Ace out of the way to stand before you, holding his test grade in front of you. It’s just a bit above average, thanks to his rigorous studying with you, “Look—I’ve never seen such a high percentage on one of my tests,” he tells you, cheeks flushed and he seems a bit bashful as he looks down, “Thank you so much.”

🩷 — JAMIL VIPER.

There aren’t words to describe how thankful he is to you for taking care of him. He’s often stuck caring for more than he is appreciated for. It’s always rare that he gets to relax, and he does it often in your presence. A soft sigh escapes his lips as you roll the cool jade roller along his cheek after rubbing some serum on his face. His arms were loosely around you while you stood in between his knees. He was sitting on the counter while your hands delicately applied things to his skin. He stopped you and rested his head on your shoulder, “Let’s stay like this for a moment, hayati (my life),” he muttered. He didn’t say anything else and just rested there.

🩷 — ROOK HUNT.

That little flinch that you do whenever he suddenly touches you brings him glee. Sometimes, he’ll surprise you with a kiss on the cheek or a quick grab of your hips to watch you jump a little and gasp. When you see him, you blush and make a playful remark about how he shouldn’t just surprise you like that. He’d laugh in return and place his hands on your waist and tug you closer to him, till your body was flush against his, “Oh, mon ange (my angel)... you and I both know you enjoy my surprises,” he murmurs as his hands trail from your waist down to your hips. He squeezes them a little and raises a brow, “You’re quite sensitive, non?” he teases in response to your breath hitching.

#💖 — amoris writes #twisted wonderland #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #beidou x reader #zhongli x reader #jamil viper x reader #deuce spade x reader #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt #deuce spade #jamil viper #diluc #beidou #zhongli #twst x reader #genshin x reader

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cameronspecial · 8 months

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Let Me Study, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Semi-Public Oral Sex

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Summary: Rafe needs to pass this exam and he thought Y/N would be the perfect study buddy, but she is actually a bad influence.

Masterlist

Rafe doesn’t normally care for studying, but with the threat of not passing this class, he really needs to get at least a 90% on his final exam. This is about 50% higher than what he usually gets in his assignments for this class. He thought having Y/N with him would encourage him to be more productive. However, Y/N’s exam season has ended and this meant that she is not the help he thought she would be. Her pen clicks against the desk impatiently and Rafe’s eyes won’t leave his laptop. “Angel, can you stop please?” he begs as the sound keeps drawing attention to her. “I need to focus. Could you maybe test me please?” She whispers an apology and takes his laptop to start asking him questions.

Once they figure out what he still needs to review, Y/N goes back to impatiently waiting for him to finish, so she opens up her book to distract her. The more she reads, the spicier the book gets and she feels herself in need of Rafe’s attention. She gets up from her seat, leaning across the table to capture her lips in his. He is a little shocked at first but reciprocates after a few seconds. She expects him to get up and take her back to his house because she needs him, yet, all he can do is pull away. “Angel, I’m sorry. I have to study.” His mantra for the evening is really getting on her nerves. She sits back with a pout when an idea pops into her mind. The section of the library they are in is private and empty at the moment. She knows there are no cameras back here because she worked here freshman year.

Her body slowly starts sliding down the chair, so she is underneath the table, which goes unnoticed by Rafe who is reading about the best marketing techniques. Her fingertip leaves a ghost trail all the way up his inner thigh to his waiting penis. His whole body freezes at her touch and he looks down at her. “What are you doing?” he grits through closed teeth. She gives him an innocent smile, “Don’t mind me, just keeping myself busy.” She unbuckles his belt and pulls his briefs down just enough to take out his dick. “Let me study, Angel,” he warns with a tone that goes directly to her core. She ignores his words and takes him into her mouth. Her head starts to bob while her hands pump whatever doesn’t fit in her mouth. He has now abandoned studying in favour of seeing how far she is willing to go at the library.

He tries to quiet his moans by biting on her pen, but it is proving to be difficult so his hands find the back of her head. The force he applies to push her down is not one she is unused to and it is certainly one that she craves sometimes. He starts bucking his hips like crazy to make this go faster before they get caught. Her hands no longer need to pump the rest of his shaft, so she brings them to the growing wetness between her thighs. Her fingers coat themselves in her juices before she uses one to puncture her closed lips. Her moans are muffled by the cock in her mouth. The movement of her fingers speeds up to match his pace and she slips another finger into herself.

They both go over the edge in a sea of quiet pants as he brings her up to straddle his lap. She rearranges her underwear and helps him tuck himself back into his pants. His forehead finds her. He gives her a kiss on the lips before shutting his laptop, “Come on, let's finish this in my room.” “What about studying?” she lets out a giggle.

“Fuck studying.”

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magics-neptunes-things · 4 months

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Hand On You (Woso Prompt)

22. I won't let anyone lay an hand on you with Laia Aleixandri.

This one is short, but enjoy :)

TW : Angst, Creepy guy.

______________________________________________________________

It’s only when the library supervisor asks you to leave that you realize what time it is. You are in full preparation for your exams and you haven't seen the hours passed, which is rather embarrassing since you are supposed to go home with public transport and you hate it, especially at night.

After you gather your things, you get your coat and find the fresh air of Manchester. The good news is that it wakes you up a little, after spending so much time locked up it feels good to breath some fresh air. Your apartment being far away, you have to take two different buses. Luckily the first one arrives quite quickly and you manage to find a free place at the bottom.

A few stops later, a man comes to sit next to you, which is not strange considering that it's public transport. What is a little more strange is that you feel his look on you and that he absolutely doesn't hide it.

When you apologize to him for letting you through so you can get down, his smile gives you chills. You swallow and hurry to reach the exit door of the bus, finding with relief the fresh air. But your relief doesn't last long since you realize while standing in front of the stop for your correspondence that it also came down.

He's looking everywhere, upset and evil. It doesn’t take you long to understand that what he’s looking for is you.

Luckily, he didn’t see you. And for it to continue this way, you move quickly to hide behind the bus shelter, hoping he will quickly drop the case. In your maneuver, you shoved a young woman a little too abruptly.

"I’m sorry" you mumble a low-pitched apology.

You don’t hear her answer though, preferring to look over your shoulder to see if you’ve been spotted. You feel the panic seizing you when you notice that the man has disappeared and you expect to see him reappear at any time at your side.

"Hello?" says the brunette you shoved earlier, drawing your attention back to her. "All right?"

"Yes, I-"

But you shut up suddenly, eyes wide open with terror. The face of the man is only ten meters away from you and he saw you. His predatory smile gives you shivers again. One of the two young women in the trio of people who are together follows your gaze.

"Do you know him?"

"No. I think he’s following me."

The three young people react quickly and it takes you out of your torpor. The brunette and the man, also with brown hair, turn in the direction of the man who is making his way towards you, while the blonde passes her arm around your shoulders to train you a little further.

"Everything will be fine" she assures you with an accent you can’t recognize. "My name is Laia, and the others are Leila and Moise"

Laia makes you sit on the bus shelter bench, glued against the ads, which makes you see nothing at the scene that takes place a few meters from you.

"Maybe I’m getting the wrong idea, but he was really weird"

You hope you’re not provoking a fight or argument for nothing. But the blonde is smiling nicely.

"If you didn’t feel safe, it’s enough to ask for help"

You look up at her and give her a little smile, grateful for her understanding. When she leans slightly to see beyond the bus shelter, you hurry to question her.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes, don’t worry. I won't let anyone lay an hand on you."

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #laia aleixandri x reader #laia aleixandri imagine #laia aleixandri

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skzsauce01 · 6 months

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What Was I Made For

Synopsis: College is hard, but it's even worse when you're a pre-med student and it's even, even worse when you don't want to go into medicine. Fortunately, the ghost that haunts your apartment is more kind, more annoying, and more helpful than you ever thought possible. College AU, ghost AU.

Warning: alcohol, bad parental relationship, mentions of death

Word Count: 6.2k

Pairing: f!reader x ghost!Kim Seungmin

A/N: Good luck with exams and classes!

“Honey, I’m home,” you call. The handles of the reusable grocery bag you picked up from a club booth at the beginning of the semester are already starting to fall apart, so you’re forced to flip on the light switch with your shoulder blades. You glare at Seungmin, who is lounging on the couch, staring at the ceiling. “Could you at least pretend to help?”

“What’s the point? I can’t even eat whatever you bought.”

You sigh and set down your haul onto the tiny kitchen island that doubles as a dining table. When you make a big production of taking out your groceries, Seungmin still doesn’t look up. Despite his inability to eat food, he usually shows some interest, if only to judge your snack choices.

On the counter, bananas in a plastic produce bag to prevent fruit flies, and a new roll of paper towels. On the top shelf of the fridge, a tub of Greek yogurt that Seungmin makes fun of you for liking. Assorted salad mixes in the crisper. A whole rotisserie chicken and a carton of eggs on the middle shelf. In the cabinet goes a party-sized bag of barbeque chips, a pack of chocolate chip cookies you don’t want to discuss how much you paid for, and a box of protein bars.

You take the last item out of the bag and hide it behind your back. You hover over Seungmin. “Guess what I got?”

“A bag of potatoes that will grow spuds because you can’t finish them all.”

“That was one time! Try again.”

He guesses wrong again and again, so after the fifth attempt, you hold your prize in front of his eyes. “A better vegetable peeler, just like you told me to. Are you proud of me?”

For a moment, his sullen eyes brighten at the memory of you struggling with your old peeler. He watched with great amusement as the flimsy blade repeatedly got caught on carrot skin and you grew more infuriated with each catch. In the end, you gave up and ate the skin, fuming with each bite of your meal. Seungmin laughed so hard, you thought he would lose control of his physical form and slip through the floor.

He sighs, all of the joy escaping through his lips. “Yeah, sure. Sorry, it’s just one of those days.”

“We all have them. Hey, why don’t we do something tonight? I’m done studying, so we can watch a movie or play Mario Kart or something.” You plaster a smile on your face. “Fun, right?”

“You’re never gonna get into med school if this is how you work.”

Despite his admonishments, he sits up and swings his legs off the couch to make room for you. He didn’t choose an activity so Mario Kart it is. You leave your peeler on the coffee table and grab your joycons. When you flop beside him, tossing the blue one in his lap, he grumbles as he’s jostled around.

“I don’t even wanna go to med school,” you remind him. He already knows since it’s all you complain about these days as the MCAT draws closer, but that’s never stopped you from repeating yourself.

“Wow, what a problem. I’d die to go to med school.”

Without thinking, you snort. “Too late for that.”

Seungmin has been dead for nearly two years. The old apartment complex burned down in an electrical fire, and due to the housing demand in the area, the university quickly built a new one in its place. Sure, you suspected it was probably haunted, but rent was on the cheaper side, especially for a single room, so you moved in and learned about your unofficial roommate during your first night. You thought you were going to faint when you saw a stranger leaning over your stack of practice books, and you thought you were going to be killed when he simply said, “I was also pre-med.”

“Sorry,” you meekly say. Why is the Mario Kart music so cheerful? It would be worse if it was sad, but the upbeat tune just makes your mistake more poignant. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” he interjects. “Doesn’t matter. You better not pick Birdo this time.”

While you normally would have fought him six ways from Sunday for Birdo, you choose Yoshi instead and pick his favorite circuit to start off the night. He makes no comment about your sudden generosity, but you both know the reason. There’s no such thing as pity in this household, but apologies are aplenty.

When you come back from your anatomy lab the following day, whatever guilt you felt is gone when Seungmin holds up your pack of cookies with a disapproving look. You must have forgotten to put it back in the cabinet before you left. Either that or Seungmin rummaged around your belongings when the roommate contract stated that he could not and would not.

“You seriously paid for these?” he says.

“They’re good! And artisan,” you huff as you snatch the package from his hands. You hope you didn’t crush any cookies in the process. “I support small businesses.”

“They haven’t been a small business or artisan in, like, twenty years. How did the cat dissection go?”

You reach for an overpriced cookie and snap off a piece with more force than necessary. “Fine. A little gross, but I guess I’m used to that by now. You wanna see the pictures I took?”

He tries to feign nonchalance, but his body seems more substantial, less ghost-like as you scroll through your camera roll. Even though he oohs and aahs at the most inappropriate images—you really don’t think the digestive structures of a cat deserve that much admiration—you can’t help but smile. He hasn’t looked or sounded this lively in weeks. You thought it might have been your snark rubbing off of him, but he always has a biting remark at the ready, remedied only with his good-natured demeanor. Of course, that demeanor has been slowly crumbling, so to see him be his usual self again feels good.

Satisfied, he lets you take your phone back. “Sometimes I miss lab. I hated doing the lab reports though; have fun with that.”

And just like that, your happiness goes out. “That’s tomorrow’s problem. I should study before work. You wanna help me out? I hate physics.”

Look, if your roommate were a pre-med student, had unlimited time, and no other obligations, you would force them to help you study, too. Plus, Seungmin loves MCAT practice, so it’s a win-win.

To your surprise, he doesn’t jump at the opportunity like he typically does. Under normal circumstances, he would be scouring the living room for where he last left his flashcards. Instead, he says, “Why don’t you take a break?”

“A break? You, of all people, suggest that I take a break when you were just telling me about my bad study habits? Who are you, and what have you done with Seungmin?”

He rolls his eyes. “I didn’t realize you wanted to do physics that badly.”

“I don’t. This is weird from you though.” However, after a moment of contemplation: “Whatever. Pick a show to watch. I’m gonna draw.”

He selects House because he’s still Seungmin after all. This is the show that inspired him to go into medicine, and is, as he’s mentioned many times before, “the greatest show on the planet.” It’s entertaining, you admit, and you do like seeing all of the obscure medical cases Dr. Gregory House solves, but it’s a grim reminder of your parents’ dreams for you. With the dialogue of the characters echoing in your head, you sketch a frog sitting on top of a stack of pancakes. You initially bought your tablet for note taking, but it really is much better as a tool for art.

“It’s always animals, plants, or dessert now,” Seungmin remarks, craning his head to get a better view while you continually pull your screen away. “What happened to your big fantasy pieces?”

“Rule one: no looking until I say so. Rule two: no questions unless I say so. Remember?”

He ignores you. “You used to do a lot of those things when you first moved in. With the crazy landscapes, guys with abs in crop tops, cat-ear ladies with fancy dresses, villains who you definitely wanted to—”

“I get it!” Your face is blazing. He makes your artistic—purely artistic—interests sound so much worse than they are. “I’ve just been busy with life, so I don’t have time to work on them anymore. Anyway, animals, plants, and desserts are cute.” In a smaller voice, you add, “And they make me happy.”

Just like pictures of a flayed cat makes him happy.

He goes quiet and lets Dr. House fill the air. While he pretends to be engrossed in the show, you turn back to your sketch to fix your frog’s eyes to be less downcast. No sad frogs allowed.

You don’t remember exactly when the dread began, but you do distinctly remember glancing over the syllabus for your genetics course and wanting to collapse. Each item was manageable by itself, but the totality of the class, of your future classes, of your future hurtled at you at full force. For so long, you convinced yourself you could do it. You would complain the whole time, but at the end, you would be addressed as ‘Doctor’ and you would be happy. Your parents would be happy, so you would be happy and realize that it was all worth it.

Even if you cried every night, it would be worth it.

You took a deep breath, looked at the list of assigned textbooks, and pulled out your credit card. You went through more dire situations than this stupid course. This would be easy enough.

Two weeks after the art fiasco, you finally test out your new vegetable peeler on potatoes. Your friend gave you five for free since she was having trouble finishing the large amount she bought. While you stand over the sink, humming a song your neighbor has been practicing for the past week, Seungmin is hunched over the coffee table, doing something secretive with flashcards. He’s been working on a new set of them since the art fiasco, which makes no sense since you have a perfect set of a thousand that you bought online. But no, he has been toiling day and night to create handmade ones. You don’t even want to know where he got the supplies.

Well, you already know where and how, but if your neighbors come knocking, you know nothing.

In fear that you’ll “ruin the surprise,” you have been forbidden from even stepping foot onto the living room carpet. Really, there’s no point because you can get a glimpse if you lean across the island. Nevertheless, you keep your eyes on the growing pile of potato skins. You have five potatoes worth of fries to make.

Ten minutes later, when you have moved onto slicing, Seungmin declares that he’s done. He places the baking sheet you left on the island onto a chair and triumphantly sets down his masterpiece.

When you pick up the topmost one, you can’t help but smile. Alongside the words “absolute threshold” is a cartoon rabbit with alert ears. Tiny music notes are dotted on the top edge of the card.

“To make your studies less stressful,” he says.

You don’t have the heart to tell him that you’re always some degree of stressed but nevertheless thank him. The flashcards are adorable, even if Seungmin’s drawing skills aren’t the best. “Newton’s first law” has an indistinguishable creature kicking a ball, and “law of independent assortment” features some of the strangest plants you have ever seen.

“I love them.”

“What do you think of my art skills? Better than you, right?”

You laugh and turn back to your cutting board. “You should’ve considered art school instead of med school. Professional artist Seungmin,” you muse. “I can see you in galleries and museums.”

“Don’t forget the history textbooks. Why didn’t you consider art school? You would be perfect for video games or something.”

For some time, you did consider art school. You spent the first two years of high school daydreaming about sitting behind an easel, translating a model’s likeness onto paper. Perennial paint splatters on your jeans, permanent charcoal stains on your fingers—that was the only way you wanted to study human anatomy.

“My parents. You know how it is. Can you season the fries in the bowl?”

While Seungmin dumps copious amounts of salt, pepper, and whatever random spices he picked from the cabinet, you reflect on your teenage self. A part of you knew that drawing would only be a hobby, but another part kept hoping your parents would come around. When Hyunjin’s parents announced he was going to study chemistry, your mom wondered why he didn’t choose art when he was such a good artist. In fact, half the neighborhood, whose children went into STEM fields one way or another, were shocked he chose chemistry. Of course, if their own kids had opted for non-STEM majors, they would have been livid. Just like your parents had been.

“Did you ever think about not going into medicine?” you ask as you add more potato slices into the bowl.

He adds a swirl of oil to the mix. “No. It’s all I ever wanted to do. I volunteered at the hospital in high school, got an internship at a clinic here. I was studying for the MCAT and then…”

And then the university’s outdated housing killed him. It sounds horrific when phrased like that, but it’s more truthful than “Promising Young Pre-med Student Kim Seungmin Dead After Apartment Fire,” as the city newspaper headlined. His student ID photo smiled earnestly at readers, and a recent picture showed him posing in a lab coat.

It hits you then. Seungmin is dead. You knew this logically; you saw the articles, passed by the vigil, and signed the student letter demanding better accommodations. Then you forgot his existence until you applied to live in this building and when he appeared in your bedroom, you forgot about his death. Despite witnessing him walk through walls and tiptoeing around his deceased status, Seungmin has never really been dead to you. He’s your roommate who sleeps in the living room, your study partner who loves all things related to biology, or your friend. He’s too alive to be anything else.

“Did you preheat the oven?” he asks, breaking you out of your spiraling thoughts. Your body went on autopilot, and now the baking sheet is covered in pale potato sticks.

You glance at the dark oven and head over to do what you should’ve done twenty minutes ago. “My bad.”

“You’re the one eating these. Can you even finish all this?”

It’s far too much, but what else were you going to do with five potatoes on the verge of going bad? You suppose you could have not accepted them from your friend. “I can try?” you say, more to convince yourself than him. “I’m no coward.”

“Really? Then why do you hide when we watch horror movies?”

“That’s different. Mario Kart while we wait?”

“I call Birdo.”

Despite his declaration, you’re the one playing Birdo while he settles for Waluigi. Seungmin gloats when he hits you with a red shell, laughs when you fall off the track, and celebrates when he gets first place. He’s practically corporeal, alight with hopes and dreams you wish were your own, but he’s only the echo of the past. Meanwhile, blood flows through your veins and oxygen into your lungs, yet you’re stuck in a potential future you don’t even want.

At the end of fall, between your human biology midterm and that stupid philosophy paper, you break. It’s during one of your MCAT practice exams, so you at least can cry at your desk. You can’t even cry without guilt; your mind immediately starts trying to reread the problem you’re stuck on through your tears, as if trigonometry will solve your crisis.

It feels like an elephant is sitting on your chest. Every time you think you’ve calmed down enough to begin again, another wave of sobs overcomes you. Just holding your pencil makes your throat tighten.

“Are you okay?” Seungmin’s voice is slightly muffled by your bedroom door, but you doubt that a thin piece of wood concealed your cries.

You choke out, “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“... No.”

You swing open your door with sardonic fanfare, spreading your arms like a ringmaster. Seungmin makes no comment about your swollen eyes or your sniffles. You almost wish he had.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks. He takes a tentative step into your room, and when you nod, he lets himself fully in. It’s been several months since he’s last been inside. Unmade bed, cluttered nightstand, paper-strewn desk—nothing much has changed. He sits on your chair, resting an arm on top of the throw blanket you’ve thrown over the back.

“I don’t know what there is to talk about,” you say after a moment of silence. “I hate class, I hate work, I hate my life. A breakdown has been long overdue.”

You stare at the floor, afraid to meet his gaze now that he’s seen you like this. Ever since you discovered Seungmin, you’ve crafted the perfect blasé attitude to accommodate your new living circumstances. He leaves you alone sometimes and stays cordoned off in the shared spaces to give you privacy, but you don’t break apart in your apartment for good reason. You’re open and raw like a bloody wound. Will he want to patch you up with bandaids, or will he pick and prod?

Pick and prod, you pray. Make some flippant remark about how easy you have it, how he wishes he could be in your position instead. Because if he does, then the situation must not be that bad.

Softly, Seungmin says, “What can I do to help?”

Your heart drops to your stomach. “I don’t know… I should probably get back to studying anyway.”

“Really? Are you serious?”

“What else am I supposed to do?” you snap. Seungmin at least has the decency to look sheepish. “The MCAT’s in July, and I don’t even understand half the things I’m supposed to know. I’m barely getting C’s in philosophy and art history because of it. That’s so humiliating.”

“Have you thought about, you know, not going to med school?”

A harsh laugh rips out of your throat. “Every single day. But it’s too late. I’ve already wasted four years, so what’s another four?” That doesn’t even include residency.

“You’d hate it.”

“Story of my life.”

The room goes quiet. Maybe you were too severe with your words, but how else do you explain it?

“What if you became a medical illustrator?” he abruptly suggests. “You’d know exactly how to draw everything. It’s perfect for you. And it’s still STEM-related.”

It doesn’t matter if it’s in STEM. Your parents laid out your options very clearly: doctor or disappointment. Some career choices were less disappointing than others, but they would still be disappointments.

“I need to study,” you say.

He stands up from your rightful seat at your desk. Softly, so very softly, he says, “I’ll let you get back to it then.”

“Thank you.”

He shuts the door behind him and leaves you with your despair. True to your word, you return to your practice exam, this time without crying. Your mouth is dry the entire session, but you don’t dare drink any water in fear that rehydration will trigger your tears. It’s stupid but keeps you holding on.

When you check your answers and review terminology, you refer to the set of flashcards Seungmin made for you. He didn’t expect you to use them, but his drawings have helped you better memorize the definitions. You shuffle through them, occasionally trying to figure out the relationship between whatever Seungmin drew and the word written. Other times—but not enough for your liking—you know exactly what they mean.

The rabbit from “absolute threshold” stares at you with lopsided eyes, and Mendel’s warped pea plants grow beneath your fingers. The whole world blurs.

A month after move-in, after too many beers and barbeque chips, you asked Seungmin, “Why do you haunt only me? You can travel through the whole building, but you’re only ever here.”

He gestures at the room with a sweeping flourish. “This used to be my apartment. Sort of. They changed the floor plan, but this is the approximate location of where I lived, so when you moved in, it felt like fate.”

“Ah, a med school sufferer to keep you company.”

He laughs, but it sounds insincere. “How drunk are you right now?”

You glance at the row of empty cans you lined up on the counter. One, two, three, four, five. Five and a half, if you count the one in your hand. “Pretty drunk, I think.”

“So you won’t remember what I tell you, right?”

“Probably not,” you lie. “What is it?”

With a sad smile on his face, he says, “I haunt you because it’s like seeing someone live the life I could’ve had. Would’ve had.”

Your outburst doesn’t go forgotten, but you and Seungmin dance around the topic with the grace of a seasoned ballerina. You show him your grocery hauls, he scolds you for buying expensive cookies. The two of you play Overcooked instead of Mario Kart and pretend that Overcooked will strengthen your friendship instead destroy it even further. Seungmin is really bad, embarrassingly so.

“Are you going to the party this weekend?” he asks as he drops onions all over the floor. There’s no health department in the game.

“I would ask you to be more specific,” you say, “but we both know I’m not going to any parties. Go chop the onions.”

“You need friends.”

“I have friends. Who do you think keeps us giving us potatoes?”

He scoffs. “That’s not a friend. That’s an enemy. We need more dishes.”

While you wash a stack of dirty dishes, Seungmin dashes between prepping ingredients and watching the timer on the soups. As expected, he doesn’t take the pot off the stovetop quick enough, and soon enough the whole kitchen is in flames. You scream at him to get the fire extinguisher, he wades through the sea of onions, and the level ends with a single gold star.

You set your joycon down and lean your head back. “Three stars or nothing” is your motto when playing Overcooked, but perhaps you can make an exception for Seungmin.

“Why’d you ask me about a party?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. Seems like a college student thing to ask. And a college student thing to do. Go to parties, I mean.”

“Not for us.” You stretch your arms and legs out, knocking your socked feet against the coffee table. “When have you ever seen me willingly leave the apartment?”

“Never,” he admits, “but you should enjoy your youth.”

Whatever mutual agreement you thought you and Seungmin had does not exist. You have long known that you would have to sacrifice your twenties for your future. There would be good moments among your struggles, but so many of your memories would be of test prep and studying. As your parents so eloquently put it, “You can draw after you retire.”

“That’s funny coming from you,” you say. You wave a hand in front of his face and observe the way his eyebrows scrunch together. “Are you really Seungmin?”

“Do you know any other ghosts?”

“Do you actually regret dedicating so much time to studying?”

“No. I mean, I went out when I could, but you…” He mindlessly thumbs the buttons of the controller as he tries to find his words. “Well, maybe I do a little bit, but it was fulfilling. Or was going to be anyway. You’re miserable. I’ve never seen you without dark circles or eye bags.”

How needlessly observant of him. “Thanks. It’s the quintessential college look.”

“Take care of yourself.” He raises his joycon and nods at the TV. “Let’s go again. Three stars only.”

And just like that, you and Seungmin go back to pretending as if everything is fine, like the last few minutes were idle chatter about the weather. You yell instructions at him, and he retorts back with something snarky; all is well.

You suppose you should have realized why Seungmin asked you such out-of-character questions two weeks ago. Death anniversaries don’t typically go onto your calendar, but you could have made an exception for Seungmin. How did you forget? As you walk down the stairs, a wave of guilt washes over you.

The annual university-held vigil occurs on campus, but the apartment complex has their own small affair in the courtyard. Framed photos of the victims huddle together at the base of a half-wall. Already, there are several flowers and notes strewn about, and you add your own carnation to the pile. You have a note as well, and it burns your hand as you debate whether to leave it or not.

Twelve people died that night. “Only” twelve, as some papers reiterated. Twelve out of three hundred doesn’t seem too horrific given the state of the fire, but that’s still twelve people dead. Plenty more got injured trying to escape, and they aren’t honored at this memorial. The living don’t get commemorated—they live with the memories of the day, and that’s remembrance enough for the public.

“Hey.”

No one else is around, so you say, “Hey,” back to Seungmin. He disappeared for a few hours, and you assumed he would be gone until sunrise. In the days leading up to his death anniversary, he has grown increasingly depressed, looking vacantly out the window and mouthing words to himself. You idiotically thought he was just having one of those days.

“How are you holding up?” you ask.

“Fine, I guess. Good turn out this year,” he remarks as he kneels down to pick through the gifts. “The construction workers didn’t even show up to work because of superstition or something.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know, it’s just…” You wave the folded notebook paper in your hand. Maybe you should’ve bought some stationery after all. “Read this later. I’ll see you whenever.”

You gently place it beside your carnation, return back to your apartment, and lock yourself inside your room. It’s too quiet, and you’re too restless. Your head tells you to do practice problems to burn off your energy, but all you’ve been doing as of late is listen to your head.

As you sketch an anatomical heart—underneath a completely necessary and painstakingly accurate rendering of a male torso—your bones say that this is right.

To Kim Seungmin, a star that went out too soon—

You deserved so much more than this. I don’t even know what else to say because nothing feels more appropriate.

I’m living in your old apartment—where it used to be, at least—and I can’t help but feel that I’m living the life you should have had. Sometimes I can feel your presence when I’m studying. I can hear you reciting definitions and shuffling flashcards. When I’m really losing my mind, I can see you sitting on the couch watching House episodes with me. It’s comforting and terrifying.

You already know this, but I don’t want to go to med school. I hate it and I hate being a disappointment to my parents, but I hate being a disappointment to you the most. You should be in my place, so I thought I should try and complete your dream for you at the very least. I’m already miserable, so I should make the most of it. For a while, I thought this would make you happy, but it’s been making you sad and worried recently. I thought if I could make you happy, then it would be worth it, but I’m realizing it’s not, but I’m too scared to leave this path. Sometimes I don’t know who I am without med school looming over me, and it

I wish we would’ve met earlier. You’re an amazing person, full of light and kindness. The world is darker without you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything that I’ve done and for everything that I didn’t do because you deserve so much better than whatever you’ve been given.

“Do you want to talk?”

Seungmin’s upside down face appears between you and the iPad you have been holding up with both arms. Philosophy review is simultaneously boring and maddening, but you have a final to be studying for. You should’ve started much earlier, but twenty-four hours of cramming has not failed you when it comes to general education elective courses yet.

“Not really,” you say as you push his face out of view. He’s corporeal at the moment, so your hand meets resistance rather than going right through. “I’m busy.”

“Did you apply for a ‘biomedical visualization’ program? That’s a medical illustrator thing, right?”

You don’t need to look at him to know he’s thrilled. Since the memorial, you began looking into medical illustrators as a backup plan. You only meant to learn about the basic requirements, but curiosity got the better of you, and you attended an online informational session. Seungmin overheard bits and pieces because of how thin the walls are, you got cagey when he asked, and he put his endless hours of free time into detective work.

“I didn’t apply. I’m just looking around. Now go away.”

“The living room is a communal space. So you’re considering it then?”

You don’t respond and bring your iPad closer to your eyes. To read the tiny notes on the margins of your classmate’s notes, of course.

Seungmin cackles and claps his hands. “You are! This is good! Why are you so morose?”

“Because you interrupted my studying? I have less than ten hours to cover three months of content.”

“You’re deflecting. Are you worried about your parents?”

“Morose and deflecting,” you murmur. “Two gold stars for your vocabulary usage.”

“Are you?”

You shut your eyes, envisioning the stern faces of your parents when you announce over dinner your plans to spend your life not being a doctor. Their expressions morph from confusion to anger to grim when they realize how serious you are.

Are you serious about this? You’re not even sure yourself. It feels like you’re in high school again, holding onto a shred of hope for a future you aren’t allowed to have.

“What if I lie to them?” you say. “I tell them I got into a school that’s super far away, go there, and return when I’ve firmly established myself as an illustrator or whatever I end up doing. It’ll be too late for them to do anything.”

“That’s one way to do it. But wouldn’t it be better if you were upfront?”

You groan and turn back to your classmate’s notes. What is it like, you wonder, to not be crushed by the weight of approval? What is it like to know you won’t be scorned for your choices? No matter what you do, someone—your parents or Seungmin—will be upset.

“Upset” is a very mild way to describe your parents’ reactions. After six cans of celebratory beer—you passed all of your classes this semester!—you called your parents to tell them good news. Somewhere between the silent congratulations and questions of your home arrival, you blurted out, “I think I’m gonna do biomedical visualization. Medical illustration. Art. It’s still medical-related, but not a doctor.”

And after a lengthy discussion filled with shouting, you’re not allowed to come home this year or ever again. CALL ENDED flashes on your screen, but you grip your phone so tightly you can feel your heartbeat in your fingertips. Your whole body is tense, flushed with indignation and shame. No tears come. You expected something like this but nothing to this extreme. Their words echo in your ears.

Ungrateful. Selfish. Disgrace.

Logically, you know you’re none of those things, but you can’t help but feel they’re at least a little bit right. You sink into your desk chair and wait for the inevitable knock on your door. To step out of your own accord would be mortifying.

“Are you okay?” asks Seungmin.

“I’ve been disowned in every way except legally,” you answer as you let him inside your room. “What do you think?”

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s…”

It’s not fine, but your mouth started saying so by default. You perch on the edge of your bed and stare at the stack of practice books that have been untouched for two days on your dresser. They would belong better under your bed where they’ll be out of sight.

Suddenly insecure, you ask, “You’re not gonna leave me, right? You’ll still help me peel potatoes and let me know when my artisan cookies are on sale?”

He chuckles. “The only way you can get away from me is by moving or by graduating. I’ll be here. Instead of nagging you to study, I’ll critique your anatomy.”

“That’s against the rules.” Nevertheless, you smile at the thought of Seungmin hyperfixed at your artistic renderings and comparing them against pictures from a textbook. “Thanks.”

Seungmin smiles back, and he radiates so much warmth that you forget it’s winter.

EPILOGUE

“Honey, I’m home,” you call.

You nearly trip over the door sill in your heels but catch yourself in time. Wearing heels to commencement is a bad idea for more reasons than one. Clutching your friend’s graduation bouquet, you flip on the light switch with the back of your hand and glance over your apartment. Other than the dozens of boxes scattered across the living room and kitchen, nothing else belongs to you; goodbye coffee table you stubbed your toes against too many times; goodbye peeling school-issued couch. You half-expected to see Seungmin lying on it, staring at the ceiling like he used to.

“Seungmin, where are you?” When he doesn’t answer, you try again. “Anyone home?”

You wander around the small apartment, checking behind doors and furniture like you’re playing hide-and-seek. He’s nowhere to be found, and you go through the apartment again in a frenzy. He could be in a different part of the building, but he always knows when you’re looking for him.

“Where are you? Seungmin, this isn’t funny! I know you can hear me.”

It takes twenty minutes, but you eventually realize he’s gone for good. No goodbyes, no hugs, no teasing—he just waved you off to your ceremony and shut the front door. You knew he wouldn’t be able to help you move out, but you thought he would still be here when you returned. He researched additional art classes for you, suggested works for your portfolio, and consoled you whenever you were overwhelmed. It’s a knife to your heart that he’s not here.

In between tears that you don’t allow to fall from your eyes, you carry your boxes of belongings to your car. You have a new place to call home, but two perfectly nice housemates and a dog aren’t good replacements for a ghost who annoyed you from sunrise to sundown.

I hope you find this note eventually. I know we have the rule where I’m not supposed to go through your belongings, but since we’re not going to be roommates any longer, I hope you’re not too mad. Completely unrelated but you’re really good at Mario Kart. So good. Birdo was designed specifically for you.

Congratulations on graduating. You’ve worked hard this year. Could have worked harder sometimes but you did it! Relax a bit during your gap year and enjoy your youth. Those art classes will be easy for you. Biomed visualization will be easy after pre-med studies.

Stop rolling your eyes and sighing. You know I’m right.

I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. I know you wanted it, but I don’t think I could have handled it. The truth is that I was ready to go a couple months ago when you started compiling your portfolio. For two years, I didn’t know why I was still here. At first, I thought my unfinished business was about the circumstances of my death. (Stop wincing. I’m dead. It’s a fact.) Then the administration stepped up. They did the bare minimum, to be honest, but at least changes were made. When you turned up, I thought I was supposed to fulfill my dream of going to med school. Turns out, I still have no idea what exactly why I was here, but seeing you live the life you want and choose the future you want makes me feel like business is finished.

To L/N Y/N, a star that will keep shining for decades to come—

I’m so proud of you and everything you’ve done so far. There are so many opportunities waiting out there for you, so don’t be afraid to take any chances. I’ll be with you always.

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storiesoflilies · 9 days

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school bus love (4)

synopsis: a series of successes, but it can’t always be sunshine and rainbows, can it?

pairing: teen!toji fushiguro x teen!f!reader.

warnings: none.

a/n: i’m done with my exams and i’m freeee! to celebrate, i’ve dropped more lily lore hehe. apologies if this isn’t the best, i’m so so tired, but i really wanted to post today! enjoy my darlings xo

drabble series // part 3 // part 5

toji fushiguro was an exceptionally hard nut to crack.

throughout the past two months, they had sent each other daily streaks. as per usual, she sent her usual quirky streaks to try and pique his interest. to her credit, it worked quite a number of times, as they’d had quite a few conversations over snapchat. they hadn’t been flirting, but it was still progress, and she was absolutely ecstatic every time she managed to crack toji’s enigmatic shell and draw him in.

however, they never spoke in person on the bus.

“you’re both bizarre,” her bus buddy had commented in private, rolling her eyes. “how can you snap each other every day and then not even speak actual words?”

she bit her lip nervously, swinging her heavy backpack higher onto her shoulder. “i don’t know! i’m too shy, maybe he is too?”

her bus buddy sighed heavily and rolled her eyes, clawing for her revision notes from somewhere inside her tote bag. exam season was in full swing, and having any sort of distraction was far from ideal. she was studying hard, but with thoughts of toji rippling in the back of her mind like a tantalizing fruit swinging high up on a tree, just out of reach.

she noticed that he often deflected the conversation back to her whenever she asked him slightly more personal questions. toji seemed to more interested in hearing about her old life back home, about the way of life and culture. while it was nice that he took an interest, his deflections and apparent unwillingness to reveal much about himself made her seriously doubt if toji had any sort of feelings for her.

chasing after him was maddening, and still so very addictive.

however, she had to decide when it was time to go cold turkey and cut her losses, but that time wasn’t just yet.

a movie was playing in the background as she peacefully lounged in the living room after a particularly long day at school. the rain hammered down outside, creating a pleasant hum of droplets hitting the roof, and she snuggled up further into the couch with her steaming mug of tea.

“so, how’s the handsome boy doing?” her mom suddenly perked up, sipping a glass of fizzy water. “the one at the bus stop.”

“oh, toji? we’re still talking.”

“you’re still just talking? he hasn’t asked you on a date yet?”

“mom, don’t. it’s exam time, i’m not thinking about that right now, and i bet he isn’t either.”

“alright, alright! i’m just saying, maybe you should take the initiative instead of waiting for him.”

she contemplated that with a finger placed thoughtfully on her lip. she’d always wanted to be asked on her first date, not the other way around, and it was a sentiment she wanted to hold on to for as long as possible. moreover, she wasn’t even totally sure that toji liked her back.

the plan had to shift; she had to step it up just a notch.

that night, after sending a picture of her midnight snack of avocado on toast and successfully attracting toji’s attention, she laid out the bare bones of a subtle plan. a plan that involved an indirect suggestion that should hopefully end with him asking her to see the latest avengers movie with him.

haha, so true. have you seen endgame yet?

toji fushiguro: nah not yet, wbu?

nah, not yet. i rlly want to tho 🙃

toji fushiguro: ah yeha, me and my friends are going on tuesday

well… fuck.

oh nice!! haha no spoilers though

toji fushiguro: hmm oh well now you mention it

toji fushiguro: nah, dw i wont i’m not that much of a dick haha

yeah lol, well hopefully i can see it before i go back home

that was a good nudge, right? it wasn’t too subtle. if he liked her, then surely he would take the initiative now.

toji fushiguro: oh when r you goin back?

a week after my last exam, can’t wait lol

toji fushiguro: i bet, it’ll be so much better than here

ah it’s not so bad here haha, wbu? what’s your plans for the summer?

toji fushiguro: so how hot does it get over there in summer?

she felt deflated, like a giant hot air balloon loosing all its shape and spluttering into a mess as it hurtled to the ground. why was toji so reluctant to answer such simple questions? it wasn’t like she was asking him to reveal the deepest, dirtiest secrets about himself. her heart was only half in the conversation after that, and she indulged his questions for a while before it fizzled out, like a sizzling party sparklers doused in an ice-cold splash of reality.

would this crush soon fizzle out in the same way too?

general taglist: @tadabzzzbee @wannapizzamymindposts @stromynight

school bus love taglist: @badbyeyoongi

side note: i told my boyfriend i was writing this little drabble series about us, and his exact response was, “ew, why?” he doesn’t like to admit that we were cute. he’s a big grump, but i love him very much lol.

#toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji zenin #toji fushiguro #toji x y/n #toji fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #toji drabbles #jjk x you #jjk fluff

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luvring · 1 month

Note

Your touchstarved writings are giving me life and sustaining me until the full game comes out and while I’m dealing with real life touchstarving. What would you think of the love interests (preferably Vere, Mhin, and Ais) with a chubby reader (preferably fem, if that’s okay, but if not I understand!!)? Just general headcanons for that, and maybe some stuff about comforting the reader who’s been insulted or is just dealing with general self hatred, both sfw and nsfw? In addition to feeling touchstarved while I’m away from home, I’ve been feeling the mean fatphobic voice in my head 🫠🫠🫠

Good luck with exams!! My finals are gonna kill me lol

VERE, AIS, MHIN WITH A CHUBBY FEM READER

minors dni | fem!chubby reader - fem terms + clothes, gn!body description, ais lifting you + sitting on his lap, penetrative sex (reader receiving, not for mhin). ** marks the start of suggestive/nsft (there isn't too many! ^^;)

ouh... I'M HONOURED TO!! 🥹i hope ur doing a little better since sending this in.. let me know how ur finals have gone if u'd like! i will write u a little something (again! LOL) love u & so do they friend 🫂

VERE

vere drawing you when you're feeling insecure 🥹 whatever you're feeling insecure about, he's drawn it the way he sees it—beautiful!! you mid-laugh, you sitting pretty on the steps you've grown accustomed to visiting, you looking hot at the bar or lying in bed,, anything and everything! he could make a collection and would do so happily. you're his best muse

finds you the prettiest expensive lingerie ever—something exactly to your taste!! he looks you up and down, soo cocky (and in love) because it fits you so perfectly. vere might suggest/get more revealing clothes for you, and you're not obligated to wear them, but he'll be happy to see you try! :3 he always works with the mindset that If you're hot you're hot—and you shouldn't 'fit the clothes,' the clothes can and should fit you.

will drape himself across your thighs with a sigh after work. he buries his face against you, hands mindlessly rubbing your waist, while you play with his hair in return

god forbid anyone try to insult you—they should really know better, especially with vere around. he doesn't care who he has to fuck up, he will fuck them up then come straight back to you, asking if you've ordered a drink for yourself already.

he's not always...soft? when it comes to his reassurances. but his sincerity makes up for his bluntness! you ask if he finds you pretty and he's like ? Do you really think i'm the type to lie about that. he's called someone a baby's shit stain to their face. and if anyone thinks anything about you is 'ugly,' they obviously have the mind of an ant and aren't worth your time.

** when you're feeling bad, he can be a lot more gentle and kisses you everywhere. your face, neck, shoulders and down your arms, your chest and stomach, etc., lingering on spots you're most insecure. i think he likes stretch marks especially!!

handsy... the second you dress up, confident and asking what he thinks, his hands are on your hips because 'he has to get close for a better look' or whatever excuse he comes up with to kiss you

vere loves biting and leaving hickeys all over you, especially on your inner thighs. he'll make sure you're looking at him while he kisses then nips your skin.

he murmurs a "you're pretty," or something like it, and you shift but don't respond. so he stops moving and makes you look at him so he can repeat it. his eyes flicker down to your lips then back up while he asks/tells you to believe him

vere is solely focused on you and making sure you feel good, physically And about your body. he rewards you every time you say something you like about yourself! and he agrees while he moves his fingers how he knows you like it, or while he thrusts deeper. type of guy to stop mid-sentence to tell you to stop muffling your moans before going back to praising you

AIS

lazy cuddles!! the amount of times he'll fall asleep on your stomach or thighs... yeah. he won't apologize either. LOL you have to pee and he's grunting holding onto you like bro if you don't let go rn.

ais loves your thighs. a normal amount, he tells you, but if you wear thigh highs it's over for him. if you let him sit with his head between your thighs?? he's not moving. you're not moving. he's so comfortable, you can't take that away from him, can you?

he whistles when you try on a new outfit. doesn't matter what it is—high, mid, low rise jeans, a crop top, a skirt, a dress—he's whistling. you roll your eyes like Seriously? but can you blame him!

in the most Normal Loving way possible, ais is always watching you. he notices if you feel uncomfortable and is quick to reassure you that "you look gorgeous by the way,"—his hand comes to rest on your hip while he plants a kiss to your temple—"happy everyone gets to know i'm yours tonight?" and when your face heats up and you try to look away, he only grins and pulls you closer

ais is beating anyone's ass who looks at you wrong. you don't even notice them because he's dealt with them too quickly, and he just wants to have a good night out with you! he might shower you with more compliments and shitty pick-up lines too

if you're upset and crying, he's quick to act. his voice is low while he tells you it's alright, and his hands are calloused but warm as he wipes away your tears. i think he gives really nice hugs too. he holds you close, your head against his chest while you're curled up in bed as he rubs your back :')

bro is obsessed with patting his thighs and coaxing you to sit on his lap. he also makes a point to lift you if you tell him you're scared he can't. you seriously don't think he can lift you to sit on the counter? carry you to bed? you wound him!

ais likes to hold your hips or thighs and give them a gentle squeeze. just in general really, but especially while making out (in this case it's more of a grip.) also your ass. lmfao you don't notice his hands trailing lower until he's squeezing it

**he also likes mumbling against your lips and skin as he trails kisses down your neck— "this dress looks good," "stop trying to hide from me, you look pretty," all the while he's undressing you and sneaking his hand into your underwear

will fuck you in front of a mirror. his breath is warm against your ear as he tells you to look at how pretty you are, to agree out loud that you're pretty, if you want him to pick up the pace. you can whine his name all you want, but he'll wait as long as he needs to.

"c'mon princess, let me see your face," when you try to cover it with your hands. because of course he wants to see your reaction, but more importantly, he wants you to see him, to watch him worship you like you're meant to be

MHIN

mhin loves resting their head on your chest so they can hear your heartbeat, arm wrapped around your stomach. they don't know how to tell you that they like when you wrap your arms around them, so they settle for silently nuzzling closer and tightening their own hold.

hug them! i'm so serious,, they like your weight against them and how you throw yourself into the hug. no matter how hard you run at them, they'll always keep their footing and hug back

mhin gets flustered if your shirt lifts and they can see a little of your stomach like,, oh. oh! they won't really say anything if it's just you stretching or you're alone, but they just find you so attractive it's. ohmygoddd... similar response if you wear something shorter so they can see more of your thighs..

if you're unsure about an outfit because you don't think it fits you, they shoot you a soft smile in the mirror and says "you look nice." i knowww i know that sounds kind of boring, but imagine the affection in their gaze and soft tone and the way they keep looking while you continue to get ready. and then they point out something specific they really like too ^^

mhin doing a double take when you put on that dress you've been scared to wear out and smiling :'3 they do a lighthearted "i told you so" and will keep glancing at you for the rest of the day

subconsciously starts frowning/glaring when you tell them you were insulted because of your weight/appearance. you look up and they're like >:( >:/ (you know it isn't directed toward you, but they snap out of it and apologize for not realizing anyway.) will they be sending death glares if they ever see those people? maybe make sure they trip or spill something onto their clean, new outfit? who's to say! (probably!)

and mhin gets that fear of intimacy, of being vulnerable with somebody. if it's hard for you to talk about, they'll sit with you as long as you need. even if they're angry at the thought of people mocking you, they know you're who's important right now and try to stay focused.

mhin undressing and letting you look at them before quietly talking about their own insecurities :-( and when you reassure them that they look good, and that you love all of them, they give you a look like. thank you—i know you know the same goes for you

** they might struggle to get their words out, but their hold on your hips is comforting as they kiss your stretch marks or rest their head against your stomach. they notice when you try to hide away and reach to hold your hands instead, murmuring "don't," before continuing lower

it's all just very intimate and soft!! you try to touch them in return and they shake their head and hold your wrists away. after a while, they don't bother stopping you but start,, rambling? about how beautiful they think you are. how they love seeing you and how good you make them feel, and how good they want to make you feel. they don't filter their thoughts and only double down when you say their name

#touchstarved #touchstarved game #vere x reader #ais x reader #mhin x reader #touchstarved x reader

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yuurei20 · 5 months

Text

Trey Info Compilation part 17: Rook

Rook refers to Trey as “Chevalier des Roses,” but this nickname apparently did not appear until their second year when Riddle enrolled at NRC, as, “One must have a roi—a king—to be a chevalier, or a knight.”

Trey does not like this nickname and often asks Rook to stop using it, which Rook tends to ignore.

Rook seems very fond of Trey (“All Rook did was sing praises about your smooth workflow,” says a Science club student), and when Sebek calls Rook creepy for bursting into song during Spectral Soiree Trey explains, “The random singing isn’t all that uncommon, actually. He does that sometimes during club meetings.”

When Sebek prepares to attack Rook for being suspiciously calm Trey defends Rook, explaining “Okay, sure, Rook’s a little weird. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking, and sometimes he does that thing where he looks at the sky and smiles…but he’s not a bad guy.”

Rook wins Sebek over by telling a story ostensibly from his childhood, which Trey does not believe saying, “You just can’t get enough of these elaborate jokes, can you?…Just don’t go overboard with our remarkably gullible freshman, okay?”

When Sebek tries to pressure Rook into sharing personal stories from his childhood Trey comes to Rook’s rescue, pretending to see a ghost behind a pillar.

Trey explains, “I just figured you wouldn’t want people prying into your private life. I’ve noticed you tend to steer clear of that kind of stuff when we talk at club meetings. But I’m sorry if I read too much into it and overstepped.”

Ever sensitive to embarrassing situations, in a science club-based vignette, Trey asks Rook to not talk to the plants while they’re watering them, saying, “you are your eccentricities.”

Rook gives Trey “a fancy feathered cap” for his birthday, but Trey cannot figure out what he is supposed to wear it with.

Trey says Rook roped him into researching classic vampire moves for Halloween, but while he pretended to be scared, Rook was not convinced.

Trey says that if he had to pick someone to take with him to a deserted island, it would be Rook.

During Beanfest Rook gives a long monologue about how it was that he knew where to wait out in order to meet with Trey, explaining, “You strive to achieve exceptional marks in any situation that could reflect upon your dorm and its housewarden, the Roi de Roses. Moreso in exams or extracurriculars—any occasion with discernible outcomes for all dorms involved. But you don’t like drawing attention to yourself…You weren’t likely to take an aggressive stance. You are not a proactive man when it comes to events such as the one we find ourselves in today…and indeed, the Trey Clover I know wouldn’t go out of his way to seek out and and farmers for a chance in the spotlight...you would hunker down in territory familiar to you, behind natural fortifications, and wait out the enemy for a spell.”

When looking for people amongst the school third-year students that he thinks are the most approachable, Trey chooses Rook and Vil.

After Rook gives a dramatic description of his plans for post-NRC, Trey responds without acknowledging the curious way in which Rook expresses himself. Cater observes, "Rook's hype didn't even faze you at all" and Trey explains, "I'm used to it."

#twsttrey #Twisted Wonderland #twstfacts #Trey Clover #treyfacts

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stariikis · 4 months

Text

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 005

synopsis ; based on the Chinese Drama, 'When I Fly Towards You', in which you, a going-on-high-school English genius named Huang Yuting meets the Mathematics genius of the 10th grade, Nishimura Riki, underneath the rain.

Another C for English. Riki is hardly surprised. He sighs heavily and tosses his half-crumpled paper aside, wishing the language never existed. Why learn it when it’s not like he’s going to England to ride scooters around? And even if he does, why would he need to know a thousand different types of sentence structures and spelling rules? As long as the point is carried, right?

He never has been a language boy, anyway.

Suddenly, a familiar voice sounds from outside their classroom, and Riki has no idea why it sounds sweet as honey to him.

“You wanna bet on that?” Huang Yuting whips her head towards Moka challengingly.

In return, her best friend sticks out her tongue and teases, “Yeah, I bet you he won’t wanna. He’s too smart for that!”

Yuting lets out a betrayed grumble, two hands reaching out to mock-strangle her, and that’s all Riki’s able to catch from their conversation. A few steps and they’re already out of earshot. He doesn’t know why his eyes continue to follow her down the hall; his head turns to aid his view; a dreamy smile begins to lift the corners of his lips…

“Riki-ya!”

Jungwon smacks the back of his head with his rolled up English paper. From beside him, right next to the corridor window, he looks absolutely befuddled. “Is it just me, or have I never seen you smile like that before?”

“Maybe I just don’t like being around you,” Riki mutters back, and it’s got to be the longest sentence he’s uttered today. Turning back his attention to the class, even though he hardly understands a thing, he tells himself he has to. Perhaps he’s recently been distracted so he can’t perform as well as he would like.

His mind unconsciously flashes back to Yuting squatting under the rain, and he has to scold himself for his brain to properly get the memo. Anyway, it can’t be her fault. He has never gotten anything higher than a low B for English, no matter how late he stays up to study and down cup after cup of coffee. He absolutely does not get distracted by her presence.

“No but I think I’m going to fail Maths this time.” When Yuting’s voice rolls around once again, Riki has to physically restrain himself from staring out the window. He forces his ears to concentrate on the lesson, and locks his eyes on his exam paper. Smoothing out the crumples, he takes a while to process all the red markings on just the first page. Of course, in sloppy Japanese characters, his teacher asks to see him in the staff room after lesson. He’s used to this, after every single English test is returned.

He’s used to being known as the smart kid, who cannot for the life of him get a good grade for second language. The pretty face with a pretty report card — if you cover up the English grade. He’s also known for being pretty well-rounded; he’s a good mixture of academically inclined and sporty, has been attending a dance academy since age five, and knows how to play a handful of musical instruments. And he draws and paints for fun.

But being good at something doesn’t mean you excel at it, he has learned that the hard way, and he will continue to, over and over again.

When the bell finally goes off to signal the end of class, he gathers his papers and makes his way to the staff room. Jungwon calls out behind him, but he doesn’t bother to respond. Much less stop to listen to what nonsense he has to say this time.

“You’re joking.”

A big fat F stares back into your face the moment you receive your Maths paper. There isn’t even a moment for you to compose your thoughts and slowly unveil your result. It’s just a huge symbol of failure, a handwritten bold letter that digs into your skin and rattles your sleeping brain cells awake.

Why do you even bother flipping through the pages when all you’re greeted with are red crosses to match the F on the cover? You may not be the brightest student in the room, but you’ve never tasted this kind of failure before, and you can’t even speak because there’s a sour taste lingering on your tongue.

Diagonal from you, Moka taps your shoulder in concern, seeing your bitterly disappointed expression. But you don’t bother to answer. You always knew you were bad, but when did bad turn into terrible?

Even though you know you should be paying close attention to the lesson after messing up this badly, you can’t seem to get your head out of a daze. It feels too fogged up, too hazy. All you can think about are red strokes striking out your incorrect answers, a short but terrifying message from your Maths teacher, and Riki.

He’s going to think you’re so pathetic, considering he’s never gotten anything below a ninety for Maths in his entire academic journey. You can already imagine the shock on his face morphing into utter disgust… and a hint of scorn crossing his features…

You tilt your head to the side as if emptying your brain of these thoughts; they’re not helping you in any way. However, the action doesn’t work, and these thoughts plague you even until the end of class, even when you take a step towards the staff room door and give it a little rap with your knuckles to seek permission to enter.

However, the curious pair of eyes that meet yours as the door is opened for you… they are definitely not one of a teacher’s. Riki blinks slowly at you from the other side of the doorway, a crumpled paper clutched close to his chest. Upon realising it’s you, he folds the paper once more and hides it behind his back.

“It’s you,” you mutter, in no mood for his usual silent antics. Breaking the highly eye contact, you brush past him coldly and head towards where you see your Maths teacher’s nameplate. For some reason, Riki follows close behind, and you can hear him playing with the creases on his papers.

You whip around accusingly. “You’re being weird. Why are you here anyway? You can’t be here to see a teacher, your grades are so good.” You then gasp and cover your mouth, realisation striking. “Or did you do something wrong? Are you in trouble?”

He frowns and rolls his eyes in response, before tossing the paper onto the teacher’s table. His English paper looks pretty similar to your Maths one, only that his C is significantly better than your F. By a large margin, in fact. Shame then swamps over you because you know your previous words must have stung, to someone who usually tops in everything.

“Sorry…” and shit, you can’t meet his eyes again. Why do your interactions with him always turn out like this?

In return, he throws you a mere shrug, and it just makes you feel worse. So you present your own Maths paper to him, letting him flip through it. His eyes widen slowly, as if he can’t believe you could ever score this low. And he probably does think that, and refuses to say it. As he refuses to say anything.

Then, once again, he proves you wrong. “Your problems are conceptual. If someone could help you understand, I’m sure you’d do pretty well.”

The way you feel completely and utterly stunned by his words is off-putting. Every time Riki opens his mouth, he never fails to make a lasting impact on you. No wonder he is one of the smartest boys in the whole school, despite being in the lowest level.

“Maybe you should help me,” you jab teasingly, and not to mention, jokingly. You would never have expected him to actually agree with this proposition, even when he turns his head and smiles gently.

“Maybe I should.”

taglist (open)

@laylasmother @seunnimg @natalunae @roumajuli @tomomorin

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imagineanime2022 · 1 year

Text

Water Hashira's Protector

Giyu Tomiyoka X Reader

Word Count: 767

Requested: Anon

Request: Tomioka Giyuu from demon slayer x s/o reader who's serious and chill like him but he's always hugging on to Giyuu, wrapping an arm around his waist, and defending him from the other Hashira?

You had been friends with Giyu since you were young, he’d always been the quiet type and it became apparent to you that he wasn’t as socially smart as you'd first think so you made it your job to look after him when he needed it. You trained with him and passed the exam the same as him, at the time the position of Hashira was offered to both of you under the guise that you would both fight for it but you gave to him instead, you had never really wanted the position in the first place. When it came down to it you could have been whatever you wanted, you just decided to follow Giyu into the life of a demon slayer, well more aptly you decided to follow Giyu.

You were a little more aggressive than Giyu where he’s described as the gentle flow of a river, you're probably the turbulent undercurrent, they are lured in by Giyu and taken out by you. That’s not to say that Giyu isn’t good at what he does because he is but that was only when it came to demons, when humans were the ones that insulted or attacked him he became a little more reserved.

The Hashira were the worst for this, they all seemed to gang up on him or just talk behind his back so that was when you turned your anger on them, you could hold your own against them in a fight and they all seemed to forget that but you never did.

It was yet another meeting that the master had allowed you to attend due to the unique way that you and Giyu operated, the meeting itself went by without any issues but it was what happened after that caused issue, as they gathered together in a group while Giyu stood off to the otherside. “Hey Giyu!” Sanemi called over, you glanced at him out of the side of your eye but didn’t move from your place draped over him, your arm wrapped around his waist while your chin rested on your shoulder. “Yes?” He asked. “What’s with the weird fashion sense?” He asked, you tensed immediately, as your head snapped towards him. “Mind your own business.” You ordered as you looked at him. “How dare you-!?” “Don’t forget that I have the same chance of ending you as you do ending me.” You reminded him. “You think?” He asked drawing his sword. “Are you seriously violating the master's rules in his own home?” You asked detaching yourself from Giyu to step in front of him instead. “(Y/N) stop.” Giyu ordered tugging at your sleeve. “I’ll stop when he puts the sword away.” You promised. “Sanemi, is this necessary?” Shinbu asked. “These two need to be taught a lesson!” He pointed the sword inches from your face, you lifted your hand knocking the sword away from your face. “You really need a sword to do that?” You asked, he grit his teeth and stepped closer finally sheathing the sword. “Just wait until there’s no one around to protect you.” He said. “Until next time Wind Hashira.” You bowed before turning away from him.

Later that evening you were sitting with Giyu, you were eating “why do you do that?” He asked suddenly. “What?” You asked looking at your food and then touching your face to see if there was something on your face. “Fight everyone.” He added and your eyes widened in realisation as you looked at him and shrugged. “I want to protect you, you're my boyfriend after all, I’m not just going to stand there and listen to them question you about something that is close to your heart, you shouldn’t have to tell them if you don’t want to.” You explained. “What if I did?” He asked. “Did you?” You asked. “I…” “You want to tell them because you think that they will like you better but that’s not the case, I promise you if you told that story it would not change anything, just promise me if you decide to tell them about that or anything else you do it because you trust them rather than you want them to like you.” You pleaded. “I don’t need them to like me when I have you.” He said and you leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Good then eat up I’m sure they’ll send us out soon.” You reminded him and he nodded going back to his food as you looked at the sky waiting for the crows to call you to action.

Request Here!!

#demon slayer imagine #demon slayer oneshot #demon slayer #giyuu tomioka #giyuu tomioka imagine #giyuu tomioka oneshot #imagine #one shot #oneshot #reader insert #x reader #gender nuetral reader #tomioka giyu oneshot #tomioka giyu imagine #tomioka giyu

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obsolescent · 9 months

Note

the "you need someone right now. and i'm the one that's here. let me be what you need." prompt with trans!leon t4t sex and go

House Fire

Pairing: Trans!Leon Kennedy x AFAB!GN!Reader

Author's Notes: The scream I scrumpt when I saw this request...I present you with this. This was so fulfilling to write and I hope you enjoy. Thank you for requesting!

Song: House Fire by Tyler Childers

Content Warnings: Sexual content, oral sex, swearing, no gendered language for reader, no gendered genitalia, reader is sad at the beginning and doubting themselves, Leon being awkward and joking as always, lots of fluff and yearning for one another.

Word Count: 2,470

“You can set my house on fire, baby

You can turn it into cinder and smoke

‘Cause this house is mighty cold

And I feel like meltin’ all the snow away”

The door slams, echoing throughout the home. You stormed inside, frustration and sadness overwhelming you. “I don’t see anything between us” repeating in your mind. You could’ve heard that sooner from them, about two months sooner. Why lead you on this whole time if this is how they felt? It seems like you always draw the short straw, never having success in your love life, not understanding why. You’re close to losing it! Close to swearing off love for good.

You’re usually not…This bitter, but it seems like now, most things these days in your life are taking a downturn. A low score on an exam for one of your classes, manager at your job has been criticizing your work more, you and your sibling having a spat that’s left you with the silent treatment from them. “It’s every day for me…” You muttered to yourself, stalking to the kitchen to grab something to drink, preferably alcohol, if you have any. You sincerely hope luck is on your side for this, at least. “Aha!” You exclaimed, grabbing the neck of the wine bottle and pulling it out of the fridge. At least there’s the little things.

While you’re busy searching for the bottle opener, your roommate makes his presence known. “Damn, slammed the door pretty hard, huh? You trying to wake the dead? Definitely woke me up ” He says, looking disheveled. Oops. Talk about a rude awakening.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” You grimaced, stopping to look at him. Good Lord. Looking like a tall drink of water, so effortlessly hot even with bedhead. The nap he was taking made his usually perfectly straight fringe tousled, his clothes wrinkled, eyes rimmed with red that he’s currently making worse by rubbing them.

“Didn’t you have a date tonight?” He asked, running a hand over his face. “I did, it didn’t go well.” You reply, gesturing towards the bottle. “Hell, I’m sorry. Are you doing okay?” His voice is laced with concern. “I reckon.” You mumbled, finally locating the bottle opener and stuffing it into the cork. “We can talk about it, if you want,” He offers. You nod. God, he’s always been so nice. You’re thanking the heavens for finding him as a roommate. Considerate, picks up after himself, willing to share, never loud. He’s definitely a people pleaser, but that’s one of the few things you share in common. Also the fact that he’s trans too, which makes it an even more pleasant experience to live with him. Honestly? You’ve had some feelings for him, but decided against saying anything. Worried about ruining what you have, especially with the way your love life has been going lately.

You sigh, pouring yourself a hefty serving of Moscato, “You want some?” You offer, holding up your glass. “Sure.” You grab another glass and pour him some, too. He accepts it with a ‘thanks’ and follows you to the living room, each sitting at the opposite ends of the couch, facing towards the other.

You begin, talking about everything going on in your life currently. Your luck with dating, things in your personal life and career. It’s a bit winded. Honestly? It’s a lot, feeling like you’re probably oversharing or overwhelming him, but he just sits there and sips on the wine while nodding his head with the occasional hum, slightly leaning forward with his blue eyes fixated on you. When you’re finally done, you realize you’ve finished your wine, setting the glass down on the coffee table.

“Sorry, I know that was a lot. Thanks for listening to me rant,” You chuckle, rubbing your neck. “Oh, no problem. I honestly don’t mind, I…Like listening to you talk…About anything.” He says, with a nervous chuckle, fiddling with his wine glass. “Oh.” You reply, surprised. You definitely weren’t expecting that type of response from him. ‘Don’t overthink it, he’s probably feeling really awkward right now and doesn’t know what to say.’

“Well, I’m glad. I know I do a lot of talking for the both of us–not that that is a bad thing! You’re just…You don’t talk as much as I do.” You shrug. You’re embarrassing yourself. “Yeah, no, I’m glad you do. I’m just, I don’t know, I don’t have much to say most of the time.” He chuckles, his cheeks turning pink. You’re not sure if it’s due to the wine or the conversation, but it’s cute.

“Do you want to watch a movie? Take your mind off things?” He asks, cocking his head, causing his blond hair to fall into one eye. Ugh. “Sure! That sounds nice!” You reply, grabbing the remote and turning the TV on. “You can choose, just…No horror?” Leon asks. You nod, scrolling through the movies, settling on a rather funny one you’ve seen before, but it’s been awhile.

“Want some popcorn?” He nods eagerly. You get up while the ads start playing, placing a bag in the microwave. You stand and watch the TV and the back of his head while waiting for the timer to go off. Your thoughts drift back to Leon, specifically the crush you have on the man. You’ve had one since you met him, how could you not? He’s shy and quite charming. But, after hearing what he said earlier, you’re wondering if he has some inkling of feelings towards you? It’s hard to tell. ‘It still could’ve just been him fighting with that brain of his to think of a response.’ He’s definitely an overthinker like you, too.

The beeping from the microwave pulls you from your thoughts, grabbing the bag and pouring the contents into a bowl that’ll allow you to share with Leon. You grab the wine bottle and bring it with you to the living room, setting it down while putting the bowl between you and him.

He scoots closer to you and the bowl, grabbing a handful. You grab your own and soon immerse yourself in the movie. You both begin laughing along to the antics in the movie. Body easing into relaxation mode, you let the day and all the problems that it brought ebb away, glad to share this time with him. You should’ve done this to begin with, instead of going on that miserable date.

You fill your glass up with some more wine. Sipping away, you start to feel the effects. It seems like Leon is too, out of the corner of your eye you see him also relaxed against the cushions with a flush to his face, grinning at the screen. He must feel you staring, because he looks over at you, smiling brightly. “Starting to feel better?” He asks, tilting his head again. Why does that do something to you? “I am. Thanks for hanging out with me, Leon, it means a lot.” You pause, “And sorry again for waking you up.”

“”You’re welcome, and it’s no biggie,” He reaches over and bumps his fist against your arm. You laugh. Once the moment passes, you’re both pulled into the movie again. Distracted by the screen, you reach for the popcorn bowl at the same time Leon does. Your hands collide and it sends a shock through your body, his skin brushing against yours. It feels so good, even if it’s just for that brief second. “Oops,” You giggle, playing off the feeling while pulling your hand back to allow him first dibs. Before you can retract it fully, he grabs onto your hand, interlocking your fingers.

“You see this train I’m riding?

It’s burning up the coal

And it’s wheels are bound to roll right by you

Honey, won’t you jump my train?”

Your eyes widen, snapping your head towards him. He’s looking away, face scarlet. His thumb starts rubbing circles into your skin before he begins speaking, “Uh, I’m really glad we got to spend this time together, because there’s been something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about,” He starts, “I’m really glad that none of your dates have worked out…I got worried whenever you would leave for one, hoping that things didn’t work out. I know that sounds awful, but it’s the truth. I’ve been too nervous to tell you how I really feel and I don’t want another opportunity to slip away. What I mean is I…I like you, a lot. I have no idea how you feel about me, and this may ruin what we have, but…I know you’ve had a bad day and things haven’t been going your way so…” His rambling trails off.

When he’s done speaking he moves the bowl out of the way, now nothing separating you two. He scoots closer, cupping your face with both of his hands, his thumbs now brushing your cheeks. “Can I…Kiss you?” He asks timidly. You nod, “Yeah…Yes, please.” He closes the distance, softly pressing his lips to yours. They’re buttery and salty from the popcorn. You love it. Deepening the kiss, you put one hand on the nape of his neck, while the other cups his right cheek, pulling him closer. He whines low in his throat, his hands scrambling to find purchase on your body, finding your waist, clinging to you.

“I’ve been–wanting to do this–for so long–” He says in between kisses, gasping each word. “P-please, this may seem so much at once, but God, I’ve wanted you, needed you, for so long. Whatever you want, just tell me. Those other people have no idea who they’re missing out on.” He’s rubbing soothing circles into your cheek, misty eyed. You begin to feel the familiar sting of tears rising yourself, you nuzzle into his hand. “I know you’re happy they didn’t work out, but I’ve wondered the same thing about myself. Is there something wrong with me? Is that why nothing’s ever gone right?” You suppress a shudder, scrunching up your nose, trying to fight back the onslaught of tears that are trying to break through the dam.

“Oh, baby, no. Nothing’s wrong with you, you’re perfect just the way you are. I’m so sorry they’ve made you feel like this. I’m so glad to have met you, to be in your presence. You deserve so much, so much more than what you’ve been given. I know I’m not the best with words sometimes, and I’m probably not what you had in mind, but…You need someone right now, and I’m the one that’s here. Let me be what you need.”

“Oh, Leon. I think you’re everything I’ve hoped for.” You whispered, fingers dancing down the side of his face. He makes a noise in the back of his throat, pulling you into a crushing embrace. So close, you don’t know where he ends and you begin, it feels so nice. You can’t recall the last time you’d been touched. You’re famished for affection, and Leon is willing to give you all he can.

It’s a blur of you and him grabbing, touching, pulling on each other’s body like a game of Tug of war. Movie disregarded, popcorn tossed aside, wine warming to room temperature. You and Leon are suspended in this moment together, savoring the lost time. Beginning to recover all those days spent without each other.

Moving in sync, you make it to his room, tangling yourselves together in his bed. Losing articles of clothing, exploring each other's bodies. Skin against skin, tongues exploring new territory. “Is this okay?” “Can I touch you here?” back and forth between you two, nods, gasps, and breathy yeses exchanged. Bare before each other, savoring. Bodies entwined once more. Legs soon hiked over shoulders. His fingers and mouth begin sending you to glory, while his hair is in your clutches. “F-fuck, right there, please keep going please don’t stop! Feels–so–good, Leon,” gasped out of your lungs, dragging nails down his scalp and back. His own moans and whines almost louder than yours, sending tendrils of electricity throughout your body.

“Le-Leon, going to cum,” “Cum for me, baby, let it all out.” Euphoria reached with a yell of his name, body trembling. Leon worked his way back up your body, trailing kisses upwards until reaching your lips. “I want you, Leon. Let me make you feel good too,” whispered between the entanglement of mouths. Severing the connection, laying him against the bedsheets while mimicking the path he left against your skin.

Taking your time with him, using light touches while exploring him. Withering against the bed, begging for you. “P-please fuck goddamn, touch me more. I need your mouth so badly I feel like I’mgoingtoexplode.” Ever the exaggerator. You enlighten him by wrapping your lips around him and sucking, simultaneously sliding two fingers into his warmth. “FUCK fuckfuckfuck ye-yes thank you, baby, making me feel so good.” His hand snaked down to grip your hair, tugging. Humming in approval has him jolting, arching and crying out. “Oh shit shit I’m cumming, God–ugh–don’t stop!” His walls clenched down against your fingers while grinding into your mouth.

Laying limp amongst the battered sheets, you crawl up to him and repeat his actions, ending in a fervent kiss. Ensnared in each other’s hold for the final time that night, basking in the warm glow emanating from you both. “That was…Everything I had hoped it would be and more.” You murmured, finger tracing his jaw. “Yeah, it was. I haven’t felt that good with someone before, if I’m being honest, and you made me feel really good.” He chuckled, grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles. “Me too,” you giggled back, his kisses tickling your hand. He yawns, reaching down to grab the blanket that had fallen off the bed. “Let’s get some sleep, yeah? If I remember correctly, my nap earlier was disrupted,” He smirks at you. “Sorry again,” you apologize once more, though not too sorry since it led to this. “You can make it up to me,” He says while tucking you in against the sheets, “By sleeping with me.” He pauses. “I mean, you know, like…Napping…Not sex again.” You laugh, “I get what you mean, Leon. I would love to.”

Bundled up, Leon rests his head against your chest, quickly lulled to sleep by your heartbeat. You lay awake for a bit longer, turning your head to look out the window, at the stars. Thanking them for bringing you and him together. Closing your eyes, you’re pulled into slumber with a smile gracing your features, bitterness long from your mind, replaced with jubilation.

“You see these boots I'm wearing

They're tough enough to go

And they will take many a road to reach you

Honey, won't you light the way?”

#trying to upload this while at the beach just using my hotspot bc the wifi sucks…the things i do for y’all #o fics #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #trans!leon kennedy #leon kennedy x gn!reader #leon s kennedy x gn!reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy fanfic #resident evil #resident evil smut #resident evil fanfic #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you

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tokusaatsus · 1 year

Note

congrats on finishing out your semester and doing your exams!! i’m sure you did good :))

and if you’re taking requests 👀 i’ve been thinking about makeup artist!reader lately and i think you’d do good at executing it! so maybe with undead? or literally whoever you want is fine!!

i know they typically do their own make up or have their unit mates do it,,, but thinking about having to push their hair back and putting your hand on their face so they stay still to do eyeliner

OH and the way that they blush when you’re near them so you think that they’ve already had blush applied agh

i hope you’re doing well and your break is restful!! 💕

WHEN YOU DO THEIR MAKEUP

ft. hakaze kaoru, otogari adonis, oogami koga, sakuma rei

warnings: cursing, mildly sexual humour

He’d be incredibly nervous to have you so close. Though he’d try to hide it, he only succeeds in making it more obvious.

“Close your eyes,” You command, leaning in close, brush in hand.

Kaoru lets out a nervous laugh as he does so. With him seated (backwards on the chair, his legs hooked around the backrest), you tower over him, and you take advantage of the vantage point to consider what colours to use. Normally, you’d might for a soft honey to match his hair–especially since gold liner would make his grey eyes pop. He’d look quite angelic, you think. Golden boy. Or maybe a pretty pink…but that wouldn’t fit UNDEAD’s colour scheme, nor would it fit their unit theme.

You decide to go for the safest option, a simple black. And cat-eye, definitely. It’ll make him look even more sultry on stage, all lean muscles and sharp angles–no more angel boy but the devil come to take his place and seduce you all down to his realm.

Your fingers skim against his jaw to hold him in place, and he squeaks, eyes snapping open.

“Kaoru?” You lean back, concerned. His face is flushed, and his breathing has picked up too. You can faintly hear his heartbeat jackrabbiting. “Are you okay?”

“Mm, yes, of course, why wouldn’t I be?” His voice is hurried, though he gives you a charming smile, which settles some of the worry in your stomach. “I’m just…excited, yeah? I can’t wait to see how sexy Y/N-chan will make me look~”

“Okay…” You say, slowly. “But if you’re… I dunno, uncomfortable or something, you’ll tell me to stop, right?”

Kaoru nods, yes, of course, Y/N-chan, don’t worry so much~. You lean back in, carefully cupping his face in your hands. You stop, faces scant inches apart, to gauge his reaction. He’s gone stock-still, eyes blown wide, and his breaths come a little ragged, but that could be attributed to nerves… He senses your pause, catches your eye and winks. You take it as a sign to continue.

Moving closer, you trace the curve of his eyelid with your finger, carefully marking the spot where the cat-eye will end. You cautiously draw a line, connecting the dot to the outer corner of his eye, then proceed to follow his entire upper lash line. After you fill in the outline with the liner, you breathe a sigh of relief and back away. “Alright, I think that’s done… Do you want to see?”

Kaoru seems to shake himself out of his reverie, and smiles at you. His eyes crinkle up at the corners, and expose a single dimple on his left cheek. Golden boy, you think. God, you just made him unfairly prettier. “Ah, no, I’m sure you did it perfectly. Thank you~”

He’s actually the calmest. If anything, his simple straight-forwardness makes you embarrassed, and oh, how the tables have turned.

“What kind of eyeshadow do you want?” Your eyebrows furrow as you study the palettes in your hands. You consider gold or copper… it would really stand out against his skin tone, and it would match his eyes as well… Adonis simply smiles at you, trusting you to do whatever.

“Gold would match your eyes,” You hesitate.

Adonis laughs, but not meanly. It’s a gentle huff, meant to reassure. “L/N, it’s okay. Choose whichever you think would suit me best.”

You hum, and snatch the sunset palette. Adonis leans back against the sofa, so you can move nearer to him. You stop a safe distance away. He gently wraps his hand around your wrist and tugs you closer. “L/N. I don’t bite.” You bite your lip, and move closer.

Adonis closes his eyes. “Is this okay?”

You gently draw the shimmer over his left eyelid, careful not to smudge. A few grains land on his lashes and hang there like simple stars. You want to leave them there, because they make him look angelic, almost…but if they got into his eyes, it’d be annoying to deal with. You swipe your thumb along his lash line, gathering the powder. His skin is cool to the touch.

The proximity must be getting to your head.

“L/N?”

You startle. “Uh, sorry, I got… um, never mind?”

Idiot, you chide yourself. You move on to the other eyelid, using smooth languid strokes. You run your thumb along his lash line again, and lean back to admire your handiwork. You were right. The gold does look stunning on him. “Okay. I’m done.”

Adonis’ eyes flutter open, and he gives you a gentle look. Your heart skips a beat. “Thank you, L/N.”

“No problem!” Your voice sounds loud, even to your own ears, and you suppress a wince. God, fuck, what was that? “Um, anyways, I’m done! So I’ll go now! Bye!”

Adonis waves, a little perplexed. “Ah…alright. Thank you very much for your assistance, I hope to repay you one day. Will you be coming to our show? I would very much like to have you there. ”

“Yeah,” You smile. “I’ll be there.”

He’s so fucking embarassed, but he can’t help it, and he can’t hide it. It’s not in his nature. The closer you get, the worse his blush becomes.

“Are you okay with putting on blush? Just a bit?” Your query–despite being said with no demeaning motifs–makes Koga bristle.

“Hell yeah I am. Why, ya think I can’t handle it?” He growls.

“No,” You say as you rummage through the bags. “I just wondered if it’d fit your image. You know, as the ‘cool, badass wolf’. But I guess UNDEAD is pretty fanservice-y anyways, so the blush might make you look…” You hesitate, trying to look for a way to say ‘horny for the music’ without saying those exact words. You settle on seductive. “Seductive.”

“For real?” Koga sounds almost…surprised. “Me? Ya sure ya don’t mean… I dunno, Hakaze-senpai, or somethin’?”

You don’t deign to respond, instead busying yourself with getting the blush pallets out. This earns you a, Hey! Don’t ignore me! which you proceed to ignore as well. You take a moment to scrutinise the makeup in your hands and you frown. Unlike Sakuma-senpai, whose pale skin just adds to his so-called ‘vampiric sex appeal’ or Hakaze-senpai, with his suntan or even Adonis, whose darker skin tone neutralises the need for blush, Koga doesn’t have that luxury.

You turn around, and blink, surprised. Oh. “I didn’t know you’d already had blush applied! Why didn’t you tell me?”

Koga’s face is dusted with a light pink, and you take a moment to marvel at how the look compliments him.

“H-huh? Whaddaya mean?”

You point at him. “Your face is pink!”

He snaps at you, turning away. “N-no, it ain’t!”

You move closer, and he ducks his head. “You look good like this,”

“Ya… Ya think so?” Before you can respond, Koga barks a sharp laugh. “I-I mean. Of course I do! Anyways, ya don’t need to do anythin’ more, right?”

“No, I’m done.” You take your leave, but pause in the doorway. From this angle, Koga’s blush seems… less pronounced? But at your next words, it flares up, seeming brighter than before, and you worry you might be seeing things… “I’ll be cheering for you!”

He’d seem completely calm and collected on the outside, acting like a tease…but on the inside, he’s a flustered mess.

“Hm…which shade do you like best?” You brandish two different colours of lipstick at him, one a striking red and one a simple black, and Rei just chuckles.

“Kukuku… I trust you, my dear. Pick whichever colour you think suits this old man~”

You roll your eyes, because that is no help whatsoever. But he’s given you free reign, so you might as well take advantage of it. You decide on red, after some moderation, because it matches his eyes and will add a splash of much-needed colour to his pale face. When paired with his stage outfit, the red will really stand out. Plus, Rei’s attractive so it doesn’t really matter what you choose, it’ll look good either way.

Damn.

You’re kind of jealous.

Your hands hover awkwardly, just a few centimetres shy of cradling his jaw. “How should I…?”

His eyes light up, full of mirth and tease. “Now, now… Don’t be shy, come closer~” He pats his thighs, and you pause, thinking.

“Rei, stretch your legs out a bit, please?”

He does so, obediently. “Eh? Why?”

Instead of answering, you crawl forwards until you’re balancing on your knees, straddling him. You reach out to grab his chin in your hands, and he startles, leaning away from you. “Wh-what are you doing?”

You raise your eyebrows. “Putting on your lipstick. What did you think I was doing?”

Rei’s mouth is slack with surprise, but you blink once and his signature knowing grin is back on his face. He gives you a wry look, and it’s like there was never anything different. “Ah, of course… How silly of me. Please forgive this old man~”

You crawl closer, waiting for his approval. When he nods, you move right on top of him and gently rest your fingers against his jaw. “Can you part your lips for me?”

“Hm?” He doesn’t appear to be listening–his gaze focused intently on your…lips?–and you repeat your question when his eyes flicker back up to meet yours. “Oh, pardon me…” He does as asked, and you take care to apply the lipstick. Gently outlining first his upper lip, then lower lip. You mime popping bubblegum, and Rei copies your actions as though transfixed.

You recap the lipstick, and sit back on your haunches. “All done~” Rei just blinks, before snapping out of whatever trance he’d fallen into. He purses his lips into a kissy face, which would look ridiculous on anyone else, yet just looks sexy as hell on him. Once again, you curse his damn vampire genes. “...Thank you, my dear~”

notes!

WC: 1.6k words

reze txt HI LEE !! god this is so fucking late like. u sent this req last year :( AND IM SORRY !! but i finally finished it and well. i hope u enjoyed it !! and that it fit what u had in mind ?? god this is so fucking long. ANYWAYS i had to do So Much research for this fic <- rarely uses makeup but i pray that it’s. accurate ?? also if u see me projecting in adonis’ part…No U Didn’t. kisses mwah <3

#✒️...scribbles!#hakaze kaoru x reader #otogari adonis x reader #oogami koga x reader #sakuma rei x reader #enstars x reader #hakaze kaoru #otogari adonis #oogami koga #sakuma rei #undead #enstars #esworks

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chattahoochiecoochie · 1 year

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Boyfriends!

Summary: The plotting had to start somewhere, right?

Word Count: 1.2K

A/N: I got asks all through writing this so now I don’t even know what I think, but here you go.

“How’s that quad doing, Joe?” She’s standing behind the leg press, looking down at where he’s splayed out. It’s fine, back to being comfortable the way it always is after she takes care of him—not that he’ll mention it.

“Manageable.” He winces as he pushes the press back into place, putting a hand over the quad in question, for added effect.

“Manageable? We’re on his third set.” Sam scoffs from where he’s standing, smirking at the trainer.

Joe narrows his eyes at Sam, setting his mouth in a hard line as he tries to get the message across without telling the other man to shut up, out right. Don’t fuck this up for me. The longer he draws out the issue with his quad, the more time he gets with her. In her exam room, chatting on the sidelines during scrimmages. More time with her hands on him, pretty little eyes looking at his.

He’s not doing a great job so far, he knows that. She’s probably only nice because she has to be, because she’s being polite. But she smiles at him when he sees her in the facility halls and checks in on him randomly, like she’s doing now. And that's something. It’s something.

“Really? That’s fantastic.” She’s got her hands on her hips now, standing over him with a wide smile on her face, eyes bright.

“Big mans pushing five fifty thanks to you.”

“You said this is the third set?”

“Was.” Says Joe, sighing. Five fifty is more than manageable weight, and she’s not an idiot. He’ll have to sprain an ankle before he has another excuse to take up her time. Fuck.

“Why don’t you swing by at the end of the day and we’ll do a workup.” She puts a hand on his shoulder, patting him gently. “Just to mark your progress. Make sure this is sustainable.”

The suggestion makes him do a double take. She’s smiling at him, hand lingering. Joe feels his heart skip a beat under her touch. Just to mark his progress. He’ll take what he can get.

“Yeah, uh yeah. I can do that.” He tilts his chin back to get a better look at her. “I’m supposed to watch some tape after this but I could come by after? If you don’t think you’ll be busy?”

Desperate. He sounds desperate. Fuck. He is, definitely—for anything she’ll give him—but that's no reason to make it so obvious.

“I’ll be around.” Her hand falls from his shoulder. “Don’t hurt anything else before then, okay?”

Joe nods at her, waving as she starts to walk away. When he finally brings his focus back to his workout, Sam is struggling to contain a smirk, fidgeting behind the machine as he watches Joe reengage the press.

“Someone’s got a crush on little miss trainer.”

“I do not.” Joe reps the machine, fighting through the weight to snap back at Sam.

“Do too.” His tone is flippant before making a dramatic drop. Feigning concern, Sam lets his face fall, looking hurt. “What’s she got that I don’t have?”

Joe feels himself falter, wind rushing out of him as he barely manages to catch the press on its backslide.

“What we have isn’t enough?” Sam presses the bit, sounding jealous.

They don’t have anything—technically. Yes, they do everything together, including but not limited to carpooling to work and spending meals together. Joe can’t really cook and Sam follows a similar diet, and knows his way around the kitchen. Well, a grill at least. And a takeout menu. And yes, they stay up late playing Madden and watching movies, and Sam’s got a spare key to his place—Joe’s got a hot tub and he doesn’t. But it doesn’t mean anything. Sam was his first friend on the team after Ja’Marr, they hit it off instantly. And just because they sometimes fall asleep on the couch together—like that one time—

Joe cuts the thought off. No they don’t have anything. But he and little miss trainer could. If he could grow a pair and stop pretending to give a shit about team rules. No fraternization.

“So what if I have a crush on her?” Joe grunts, voice gruff as he reps again.

“Relax, Joey boy. I do too.”

“You do too?” Why does he sound jealous?

“Everyone does.” Sam turns serious, leaning over the back of the machine. “She’s pretty, smart, innocent. Small enough to pick up and play with. All shy when she touches on us.” He rambles on, oblivious to the fact that Joe has lost himself in thought.

Everyone has a crush on her? Sam has a crush on her? Sam who he’d woken up holding only a morning ago? Sam who made them breakfast in just a towel after a morning dip in his pool? Not that the towel meant anything to him. And not that he’d noticed how nicely it sat on Sam’s hip—because he hadn’t. He had a crush on their trainer too?

“What, you thought you were the only one with an eye on her?” Sam cuts through his thoughts, leaning over the machine.

“No, no. It’s cute that you think you have a chance though.” Sitting up on the machine, he brings himself face to face with Sam, hands braced around the brunettes. His tone is playful, an attempt at teasing to disguise the jealousy he feels. Because that’s what it is. He knows it.

“Tell you what, why don’t we just ask her?” Sam smirks at him, nose almost touching his. “That’d make things easy, huh?”

“Yeah, why don’t we?” He sounds pathetic, he knows it.

“Of course, then she’d have to pick one of us.”

“Who knows, maybe we’re not her type.” Better that way at this rate, rejection from her wouldn’t jeopardize this—whatever this is.

“Be better if we could both have her. What's that saying? Threes better than two.”

“Two’s better than one.” The correction comes before the realization. If we could both have her. Joe feels his mind catch.

“Same shit. Unless of course you’d rather risk losing to me.” Risk losing me, is all Joe hears.

“Yeah, lose, to you.” He counters, trying to cover.

“Think about it, Joey. We do everything else together anyways. Best friends, and all that.” He’s relaxed, standing back from the machine with a hand in the air, verbalizing the potential he sees. “Bet she’d love that hot tub of yours. You think she’s ever skinny dipped? Course we’d have to stop sleeping on your couch…”

Joe twitches at the suggestion, turning over the middle of the machine to put his knees together on one side, hands on his thighs. He can see it clear as day, the fantasy Sam’s spelling out. The three of them—the two of them—with her between them. Its a thousand things all at once. Her in his bed, on his couch, sitting in the passenger seat of his car. She’s in a jersey—numbers flashing from his back to Sam’s. He swallows, fighting through the thought of her and Sam in his pool, skinny dipping like the brunette had mentioned.

“You think she’d go for that?” He asks through gritted teeth, hardly recognizing his own voice.

“Worth a shot, right? I mean who knows. Sounds good though doesn’t it.” Sam’s beside him, a hand over the front of the shorts, palm pressed into the fabric. “I’m getting hard just thinking about it, fuck.”

“We’d have to—we’d have to be smart about it.” He speaks slowly, fighting through the haze of his own wave of nerves. “If it were to really work.”

#look me in the eye and tell me charlos doesn't have the same vibe going rn #anyways something tells me yall are gonna think i missed the mark here but its my world yall are just livin in it #chattahoochiecoochie writes #joe burrow #sam hubbard #joe burrow x sam hubbard #bengals #nfl fic

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callsign-magnolia · 6 days

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I Hope You Dance // Ch. 55

MATURE CONTENT (18+)

A/N: This is cross posted to my Wattpad, so if this seems familiar that is why!

SURPRISE!

I've been away for a while and I'll be honest, I haven't done a lot of writing. Motivation comes and goes and I feel stuck in most of my stories. But I'm glad to at least get this out to y'all.

TW: Mental abuse, emotional abuse, slight physical abuse, death and loss.

Description: When Caila meets Rooster, sparks fly. But, she's already married, to a man who she thought loved her, and won't let her go. Rooster will fight for her, he just has to convince Caila to fight for herself.

Word Count: 4.3k

Chapter 54 | Masterlist

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“Honey.” Bradley said, his hand falling to rest on my thigh. “Yeah?” I asked as he forced my leg to stop bouncing. “It’ll be okay.” He said before leaning over and kissing my temple and I sighed. “I just… I want answers.” I said looking down at him and he gave me a small smile. “I know and in time we’ll have them.” I huffed and sat back on the squeaky exam table. “I hate when you’re being wise.” I said and he chuckled. “Just trying to help.” He took my hand and squeezed it every few seconds until the doctor came in. “Good morning!” Dr. Bearden said as he came in. “Good to see you again, Lieutenant. And you must be the fiancee!” He said, reaching to shake Roosters hand. “Yes, this is my fiancee Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw.” I smiled, lifting my hand to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Two very accomplished naval aviators. You two are quite the pair.” He said opening his Ipad. “Now, last time you were here we did your annual exam and we did some blood work to test for infertility.” I nodded at him. “All the blood tests were normal. But this time I would like to do a thyroid function panel and a transvaginal ultrasound.” He said and I nodded. “I’ll have the phlebotomist come in here and draw your blood then I’ll be back to do your ultrasound.” I nodded and he stepped out. “You okay?” Bradley asked and I nodded. “Yeah, I’m just ready for this to be over.” I said. After a minute the phlebotomist came in. Bradley turned his head away as she drew all the tubes she needed and only when she had the tubes in hand, hiding the contents did he look back at me.

“I really hate blood.” He said and I giggled. “I know, honey.” I leaned over, kissing his temple. The chair he sat in next to the tall exam table made it hard to reach him. “Alright!” Dr. Bearden came back in with an ultrasound machine in tow. “So for this I’m going to need your feet in the stirrups.” He set the stirrups up and I slid down, putting my feet in them. Immediately Bradley stood, coming to stand next to me and hold my hand as Dr. Bearden slid a cover over the transducer. “Slide down to the edge a little more for me.” I did as he asked, feeling like I was about to slide off the end. I looked up at Bradley and his eyes were wide and I looked to see what he was looking at. Dr. Bearden was putting lube on the transducer and it was so long. “Now, this may be a little uncomfortable.” I squeezed Bradley’s hands as he pressed the transducer in. It was definitely uncomfortable. Bradley used both of his hands to lift my one to his lips, kissing it. Dr. Bearden stared at the screen as he clicked a few things. I couldn’t help but think about Bradley and I being in this exact position, hoping to see our baby for the first time. I was broke out of my daydream by Dr. Bearden's voice. “You see these lines here?” He asked, pointing to the screen. “Yeah.” Bradley said and Dr. Bearden looked at me for my answer. “Yes.” I muttered. “These lines are accurate with uterine scarring.” My heart dropped as he removed the transducer and his gloves.

“Caila. When you had your placental abruption, your placenta ripped away from your uterus, causing your miscarriage. When that happened, it left scarring along your uterus. There’s a number of things this means but with the amount of scarring you have, I’ll be honest, it looks like it has almost obliterated your uterus. This can prevent an embryo from implanting; it can block the fallopian tubes, meaning sperm may never reach an egg.” Tears streamed down my cheeks and I tried to hold back my sobs. “It is not impossible by any means. I still think you have a chance of getting pregnant, but I would label you as high risk.” I took a deep breath as Bradley moved my hair out of my face. “Remember what I said to you at your last appointment? A lot of women have these problems and you’re not alone. Going to see a fertility doctor is very common for people on the journey to creating a family. It doesn’t make you less of a woman if you need helping to conceive.” I nodded. “When you do want to start trying, start taking prenatal vitamins. They jury is still out on if they can actually help you conceive. But it can help to make your pregnancies healthier and the longer you take it, the better the effects you’ll have.” He gave me a small smile. “Thanks Dr. Bearden. We’ll keep it all in mind.” With that Dr. Bearden gave me a sad look. “Why don’t you get dressed and I’ll go ahead and start the checkout process for you?” He quickly stood, walking out of the room. A single sob escaped me before I got a hold of myself, standing and grabbing my clothes. Bradley helped me in silence before we walked out of the exam room. We checked out quickly and I all but sprinted out of the office, keeping my head down as to not see all the pregnant women that were waiting.

We took the elevator back down to the second level of the parking garage and it seemed like the longest ride of my life. I stayed silent the whole way down and as soon as the elevator doors opened I made a beeline for the Bronco. “Honey-” I cut him off by opening my own door and getting in, almost slamming the door closed. I heard him sigh before he got into the driver's seat. I couldn’t look at him, not while I knew that I was the reason we would struggle to have a baby after the wedding. He started the Bronco and backed out of the spot and as soon as we were in drive he took my hand, kissing my knuckles before resting our intertwined fingers on my denim clad thigh. Tears silently ran down my cheeks as I rubbed my thumb along his hand and looked at my ring as it glinted in the light. I was marrying the literal man of my dreams and here I am, wondering how he could want me if I couldn’t give him kids like he wanted. We rode in silence and as we stopped I looked up seeing we were in a drive thru of a local coffee shop that I liked to visit with Phoenix occasionally. Bradley placed an order for a medium black coffee and a large iced mocha. After a few minutes we got our drinks and Bradley let go of my hand long enough to hand me mine before he placed his in the cupholder by the gear shift. I stared down at my coffee as Bradley drove a few minutes to pull into a parking lot in front of the beach. As soon as he put it in park he turned to me, sticking a straw in my drink. “Look at me.” I took a deep breath before casting my gaze up to him. “I am marrying you. I’m marrying you because I love you, not because we could have a baby together. I’m marrying you with or without kids and I am perfectly happy if we spend the rest of our lives together, just me and you and no one else.” A sob immediately hit me as he finished. I held my coffee tightly with both hands as he slid closer, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling my head to rest on his own shoulder. “I love you.” I managed to choke out. I heard him chuckle as he held me. “I love you too, Mags.” I knew he meant it, but I still didn’t miss the tear that fell into my hair.

We spent hours at the beach yesterday sitting in the bronco or walking on the beach. Once the tears stopped it became a very good day and it played on repeat in my brain all day today. It was Thursday, the day before we flew out to Tennessee. “Ready for your trip?” Mav asked. I passed him as I was heading out. I nodded at him. “Very ready.” He smiled at my answer. “You guys deserve it. See you Monday, Magnolia.” I nodded and got in the jeep to go home. I was exhausted, so tired from being in the air all day. And not sleeping the night before. I tossed and turned not sure why I wasn’t sleeping. Bradley slept like a rock next to me, his snoring not helping my interim insomnia. But it also made me feel better because there was a time I wasn’t sure I’d ever hear him snoring again. I was sluggish getting out of the car, my body feeling heavy. I dragged my duffel out of the trunk thinking about how grateful I was to be home and done with work for the week. I managed to unlock the door and slide inside, the dogs rushing to greet me as I did. I sighed in relief as I dropped my duffel and bent down to pet them until they calmed down. Once they were satisfied I sat down and untied my boots. I moaned as I slid them off, massaging the sole of my foot a little before finally standing. I simply wanted a shower but I yelped in surprise as I was suddenly lifted and pinned to the wall, lips pressed to mine. I could tell it was Bradley, easy, I could pick him out of a room blindfolded. His cologne invaded my senses and his lips felt a certain way against mine. “Bradley.” I muttered, pulling away. He redirected his attention to my neck and a shiver ran up my spine.

I tried to hold back a moan but it was futile. “Bradley.” I felt him harden against my core and my brain went fuzzy. “Say my name again.” He muttered as he dragged his lips up my neck. “You have to stop.” I said, trying to keep my fingers out of his hair knowing it would only encourage him. “I’ve been cleared.” He muttered, squeezing a handful of my ass through my flight suit. “Your appointment isn’t until nine tomorrow morning. You haven’t actually been cleared yet.” His appointment was the one thing we had to do before our flight tomorrow. He pulled away from my neck, grinning up at me. “They had a cancellation. I got in today and I am completely cleared.” Tears welled in my eyes. I knew he’d probably be cleared, but to have confirmation of that was so relieving. “Really?” I asked, giving in and letting my fingers trail into the hair on the back of his head. “I’m in perfect health. Stitches are healed, everything sounds good and looks good. I could do everything I could do before.” It was like a weight lifted off me and he leaned in, kissing me. “That means I can do whatever I want to my fiance, and I think I’ll start up in our room.” He turned to take us up the stairs and I couldn’t help but laugh. “We still have to pack.” I thought he might stop and put me down, but he continued right up the stairs. “I already packed the suitcases while you were at work and we now have a nine a.m. flight instead of a noon flight.”

I furrowed my brows as he topped the stairs. “How did you change the flights?” I asked and he grinned at me. “I called the airline, had them change it and begged them to not email you about the change.” He kicked the door closed behind us before dropping me onto the neatly made bed. “Of course you did.” I remarked as he crawled over me. “Roo, I haven’t showered yet.” I said, my hands on his shoulders. He smirked at me before grabbing the zipper of my flight suit. “That’s okay.” He buried his nose in my neck. “I love when you smell like jet fuel. Besides, you’d need a second shower anyway after I’m done with you.” He dragged the zipper down, and I didn’t dare stop him. He jerked my flight suit off my shoulders and pulled it down my waist. He stood from the bed, grabbing my ankles and dragging me to the end of the bed. He slowly pulled off my socks before kissing my ankles, holding my gaze as he did. I loved when he was like this. Sweet and almost primal. It was like two sides of him colliding. I lifted my hips for him to slip my flight suit off and as soon as he did he tossed it to some corner of the room.. I wasn’t sure which though. Because I was too busy watching him sink to his knees before me. Denim clad legs hit the floor as I sat up, leaning back on my hands. His large hands gripped my thighs and I was surprised at how big they looked against my legs. He pushed my legs farther apart and my chest heaved as he placed kisses on my inner thigh. He worked his way to my core, placing a kiss on me over my white thong. His hands slid up to my hips and his fingers curled into my waist band. His eyes met mine and I lifted my hips for him to pull my panties off, which he did agonizingly slow. He tossed them behind him and he inched forward ever so slightly before leaning in, running his tongue along my slit.

I cried out as he found my clit, his lips wrapping around it and sucking. I scooted closer, my fingers tugging on his curls as his arms wrapped around my thighs. “Oh, Roo!” It’s been so long since we’ve touched each other like this and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I came and Rooster knew it too. His tongue delved inside me and I gasped at the sensation. I felt Rooster’s hand on my belly and he pushed me to lay back. My hands stayed in his hair as he moved my legs to be tossed over his shoulders, allowing him to plunge deeper into my core. I was a mess and whining as he ran his hands up my body, reaching under my shirt to grip my breasts through my bra. The knot in my stomach grew tighter and Bradley shifted his hands to slip underneath my bra and pinch my nipples lightly which caused my back to arch ever so slightly. “Oh god! I’m close. Roo-” I was cut off as my orgasm hit me and I gasped. He didn’t stop. Working me over until my body was shaking. He was breathing heavily as he stood. He leaned over my now limp body. “You okay?” He asked with a devilish grin. “I’m great.” I replied and he smiled, leaning down to kiss me. His hands rested on my sides and I tasted myself on his lips, I remembered how euphoric it really was. My hands rose to rest on his neck, losing myself in him. He pushed my black undershirt up and we separated long enough for him to pull it over my head. He pulled me to sit up, reaching behind me and flicking the hooks of my bra, causing them to let loose so he could drag it down my arms. He held my gaze as I leaned forward, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. He had this planned because he didn’t have on an undershirt, which he always does.

I pushed my hands to his shoulders, slowly sliding his shirt off as I placed a kiss just above his belly button. So many weeks of not being in the gym made him soft. He was still fit, distractingly so, but his abs weren’t as defined anymore. I loved it though. His shirt fell to the floor and I immediately went for the buttons of his jeans. He helped me push them down and he stepped out of them, leaving him in his white boxer briefs which he knew drove me crazy. He was rock hard and it was incredibly obvious in the white underwear. I placed a kiss on the outline of his cock and he leaned his head back, sighing as he did. I grabbed his waistband and pulled them off just like he did me, tossing them to some forgotten corner. He hissed as his cock slapped his lower torso and I smirked. I leaned forward with my tongue out as I licked from his base to his tip before taking most of him in my mouth. I felt him take my hair that was in a bun, in his hands, bobbing my head on him a few times before pulling me off him. He leaned down, his eyes meeting my own. “When I come, I want to be inside you. Now, move back.” A shiver ran down my spine at his words and I moved myself back up the bed. He followed immediately and pushed me to lay back. He slotted himself between my thighs before laying his body weight on me. His lips landed on mine and I moaned as his hands grazed my sides. My arms wrapped around his shoulders, nails grazing his skin. “I missed you today.” He said before turning his attention to my neck. “I’ve been going crazy being here while you’re at work.” He kissed the hollow of my throat as he worked his way down to my chest. “But today was especially difficult.” He muttered against my skin. “You know why?” He asked, knowing my head would be fuzzy. “Because I knew exactly what I could do to you when you came in the door.”

I moaned as he took my nipple between his teeth. I spread my legs more, feeling the head of his cock nudging my thigh. “Bradley, please.” I was not above begging. I never was with him, and he knew it. “I love it when you ask nicely.” He sat up on his knees, hiking my legs over his hips and drawing me closer. He lined himself up before pushing against me and I gasped as I felt him. He stopped, stilling his hips before he leaned back over me and kissing me. “Roo, please.” I knew he was teasing me and I wasn’t sure I could handle it. “Not yet, pretty girl. It’s been six weeks. I don’t wanna hurt you.” He leaned his forehead against mine, his lips dragging across my face. He stared down at me as he pulled out slightly, before pushing in a little farther than last time. “You like that, pretty girl?” He asked and I moaned in response. “God I can’t wait to have my cock buried inside you.” He slowly pushed his way deeper, each thrust allowing him to enter me another inch by another inch. Finally, he was buried to the hilt inside me. “Bradley.” I gasped out. My arms wrapping around him and my nails digging into his skin. “You’re so tight, pretty girl.” He moaned at a particularly smooth thrust. He dropped his forehead to mine again, his lips landing on my nose for a split second as he stilled inside me. “Mm… so full.” I muttered. Any time Bradley and I have sex, I basically go dumb. “I know, pretty girl. I know.” He slowly started rolling his hips, causing him to slip out and the angle was just right for him to hit that soft spot inside of me. “Oh fuck. Roo.” He knew what he was doing and he gave me a wide mischievous smile. “You like that, honey? You like taking my cock.” I moaned and gasped as he trailed his fingers down my abdomen, all the way till he brushed my clit. “Don’t rush it, Bradley.” I said as I reached down and grabbed his wrist.

He raised a brow at me before chuckling and removing his hand. “Whatever you want, Mags.” He tucked one hand under my back and intertwined the fingers of his left hand with my right. He put pressure on my back, causing me to arch ever so slightly and a moan escaped him as the angle shifted. I grinned at him. “I love when you make noises for me.” His face tinged red at my words. He rarely made any noise other than grunting and dirty talk in bed. I could tell I caught him off guard with what I said, but it was true. I squeezed my pelvic floor, clenching around him and causing his thrusts to stutter. He cut his eyes to mine before pulling out almost all the way and slamming back into me. I yelped and he just chuckled. His thrusts grew rougher and he sat back on his knees again. He pinned my hips to the bed, the pressure adding to how he felt inside me. “Gonna cum so deep inside you, Mags.” His chest was heaving and sweat started forming on his neck and chest. I reached out, gripping his forearms as he fucked me. I wanted to speak, say anything to agree with him. But I couldn’t do much of anything except hasp and moan. A familiar feeling started to grow in my belly, one that I experienced only a few minutes ago. “Need you to cum on my cock, pretty girl.” He leaned over me again, his hand reaching down once more to touch me and this time, I didn’t stop him. “I want to feel you cum around me. Need it.” I tossed my arms around him again, one hand tucked around between his shoulder blades and the other fisting the curls at the back of his head. “Oh god, Bradley! Yes! Yes!” I chanted, knowing it would only spur him on.

He wrapped his arms around me, one hand on my waist, the other creeping around my shoulder for leverage. His forehead pressed to mine and his hot breath fanned my face. Our lips barely brushed together and it felt like fireworks went off everywhere inside my body. “I love you, Mags. More than anything.” All I could do in response was tilt my head up and kiss him. His hips stuttered before he buried himself deep inside me, practically flooding me with his release. I never thought I could miss being this close to someone. He was breathing heavily as he leaned his head on my chest. I felt him move his hand from my shoulder and I whimpered as the rough skin of his hand nudged my clit again. He listed himself off of me just enough to be in a good position to work me towards my orgasm and take my right nipple in his mouth. That coupled with him still buried inside me sent me straight over the edge. I gasped and my body shook harshly as Bradley slowly brought me down from my high. We stayed like that for who knows how long before he finally lifted his head. He stared at me, a dopey grin on his face as my mind raced. What we just did got me thinking about everything Dr. Bearden said in my appointment. “I want to start taking prenatal vitamins.” His eyebrows shot up. “Yeah?” He sat up, straddling my legs and I nodded. “Are we still waiting until after the wedding?” I sat up and grabbed his hands in mine. “Yeah.” I said quietly. “I just want to take them because when the time comes we have a higher chance of having a healthy pregnancy.” He smiled at me before leaning down and kissing my forehead. “Of course,” I started, catching his attention. “This means we’ll have to use condoms. Every time.” He groaned, falling onto the bed beside me. “We’re gonna go broke buying condoms.” I laughed loudly at his words. He pulled me down next to him and squeezed me. “Hungry?” He asked. “Yes. But I need a shower first. I smell like sweat and jet fuel and I do not like the combination.” He got up and pulled me to my feet. “Let’s get you in the shower then.”

The next morning I was incredibly sore between my legs. “You okay, honey?” Rooster asked, leaning down and brushing my hair from my face. “I hurt.” I mumbled, still half asleep. “I’m sorry, honey. I should’ve been gentler with you. “He kissed me on the cheek. “I promise I’ll be more gentle next time.” I hummed, stretching my arms over my head. “Uber will be here in an hour. I’ve laid out some pants and one of my t-shirts for you.” I smiled at him. “Thank you, honey.” It took me a few minutes to finally get up and I dragged when I finally did. I slowly got dressed and braided my hair before making my way downstairs. “Coffee?” Bradley asked and I shook my head. “No. I’ll just drink water for now.” He smiled and drank his coffee. “So, what car did you rent?” He asked. “A Silverado.” I replied and he fake gasped. “We are a Ford family. The jeep is the exception.” I laughed loudly. “We are a ‘whatever is affordable’ family.” He laughed, stepping behind me and kissing my head. “I like when you’re frugal.” I hummed. “Wait until I tell you I started buying certain foods only if they’re on sale.” He groaned, wrapping his arms around me. “I love you.” He said and I turned in his arms. “I love you too.”

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