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#he told me i have ‘the voice of an angel’ 🥺
gatual · 1 year
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top 5 attractive voices, not necessarily singing
( ⓛ ω ⓛ )
hiiiiiiiiii ohh this is difficult mm let's say
1. wonpil 2. tarou kabakura 3. my spanish professor 4.nana osaki 5. one of my friends :3
whats my top5 anything
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ask me to leave and i’ll stay forever ; satoru gojo
synopsis; satoru is stubborn; even when plagued by such a high fever, he insists there’s no need to take care of him. thankfully, you’re equally as stubborn.
word count; 10.8k
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, implied non-sorcerer!reader, sickfic, reverse comfort, sickening amounts of fluff, lots of petnames, satoru gojo vs the mortifying ordeal of being loved, just a tinyyyy bit of angst if u rlly squint, literally just satoru being pampered for like 10k words straight, he’s cute when he’s sick but still manages to be a lil shit <33, he’s also a huge sap you have been warned!!
a/n; what can i say, im a proud member of the ”satoru gojo needs to be babied relentlessly” club <33 he’s just a little guy!! tagging @catchuuu my beloved for being the sweetest enjoy a healthy dose of sick sleepy satoru <33 i am tagging all toru enjoyers in spirit btw i love u all
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you’ve never seen satoru like this before.
head buried into a big pillow, white locks tousled and sticking to his forehead — skin sweaty, hot to the touch, with a flushed face to match. heavy breaths fall from his parted lips, blinking in and out of consciousness, squeezing his eyes shut.
it’s nothing like the joyous, loud, cocky satoru you’re so used to. he’s weak. he’s fatigued.
he’s completely, undoubtedly sick.
”really, baby,” he slurs, raspy and dry. still attempting to raise himself up, arms straining under the weight of his shivering body. ”there’s no need f’ —”
unceremoniously, his limbs give out beneath him, and he tumbles right back down; a meek little wince escaping his throat as his face falls back into the mattress. the sound makes your heart squeeze tightly in your chest.
”ah. that’s…” he tries to speak, a disgruntled hum muffled by the sheets. ”… annoying.”
satoru sounds frustrated. you can tell he’s resisting the urge to close his eyes, a little helpless, unable to even move properly, like a fish out of water. he’s still breathing unevenly, still sweating, still burning up — you can practically feel it, from where you’re standing, crouched down by his bed.
you’ve never, ever seen satoru like this. you’ve seen him sniffling during flu season, wrecked with headaches during rainy season. you’ve seen him vulnerable; not many times, but enough that it matters. 
but you’ve never seen him like this.
(and it makes you terribly anxious.)
”satoru, please just —” you croak, gnawing at your bottom lip. trying desperately to swallow the worry in your chest. ”don’t overdo it. please?”
you can hear the anxious little timbre of your own voice, and you can feel the frown tugging at your lips. but you can’t do anything to quell the insistent pitter patter of your heartbeat, the ache that accompanies it. satoru’s lying down, still trying to gather the strength to reassure you, even through the feverish haze clouding his mind. 
he looks so small.
this wasn’t what you were expecting to see, today. you were expecting to meet up with satoru, and see his happy little grin, those tiny dimples and freckles that only show themselves in the light of the sun. you were expecting to feel the weight of his hand in yours, as you strolled down to the new crêpe stand he’s been wanting to check out since he first found their instagram account.
you were expecting to see him happy. healthy. a little obnoxious, a little annoying — but hopelessly sweet. all the love you could ever need, molded into a human shape. your little angel.
a sigh slips from your lips. you can’t help it; because satoru is just so stubborn, so closed off, and he can be such an idiot sometimes. you knew something was off the moment he sent you that text, asking you oh so charmingly, apologetically, if you could postpone your date for just an hour or so. you knew something was wrong, but he still wouldn’t let up until you brought out the 🥺 emojis. 
and then he told you he was fine. it’s all he ever is, apparently.
my throat’s just a little scratchy, is all. wouldn’t want you to miss out on the voice you love so much, yeah?
give me an hour and i’ll be perfect for you. <3
moron.
he’s curled up in a fetal position, trying to stop himself from shivering, muttering little reassurances under his breath that you can’t make out. wearing ripped jeans and a nice jacket, like he was fully prepared to head out like this — like he genuinely thought an hour, some painkillers and a dream would be enough to chase away a fever this severe. like he was so desperate to see you he was fully willing to take that risk.
moron. moron. he should’ve called you the moment he realized he was sick. instead, you had to coax him into letting you come over, with a flurry of sad and cute emojis you know make him go weak at the knees when they’re coming from you.
and here you are. in satoru’s house, in front of his bed, trying to convince him that he is, in fact, sick. 
but he just won’t listen.
”just — gimme a couple minutes, honey?” your boyfriend mumbles, barely coherent, stringing words together haphazardly. awfully dizzy. ”i just need the painkillers to kick in, i promise i —”
”satoru.”
there’s a sad tint to your voice, now. unmistakable. one that satoru notices, even through the feverish, muddy filter over his reality. 
and it makes him quiet down.
(he doesn’t want to disappoint you.)
as gently as you can, you settle down on the bed, eyes painfully softened. overflowing with care. towering over him, leaning close — to press your lips against his scorching forehead, brushing away his sweaty bangs with a palpable tenderness. your voice soothing, coming out almost as a low coo. you’re frustrated, and exasperated.
but most of all, you’re worried.
”go back to sleep,” you hum, a gentle command. your hand finds his, cold skin meeting warm, tracing circles over his palm. ”i’ll take care of you.”
”there’s no need,” he mutters, instantaneous. so used to denying kindness. 
but he curls an arm around your waist, anyway, tugging you closer; a little needy. like you’re much too far away for his liking. finally beginning to settle down, coaxed into resting by the soft touches your grace him with. it’s only a matter of time.
so you keep your lips against his forehead, cradling his slender fingers in yours, murmuring little whispered reassurances. and before you know it, his lashes have fluttered shut, like a white dove landing on the ground. he still looks so troubled, so meek. you can’t resist the urge to soothe him, hand cupping his face, thumb smoothing over the apple of his cheek. you watch him lean into it, eyes dripping with care. your poor baby. 
for a couple precious moments, you allow yourself to indulge in the sight. even like this, he looks a bit like an angel, a painting come to life. like one wrong brushstroke could smudge him. 
so you’re delicate, as you trace little hearts into his skin, delicate as you maneuver his body enough to peel the layers of clothing off him — leaving him in only an oversized tee and a pair of briefs. satoru can only whine, softly, so quiet you barely even hear him. so disoriented, on the brink of falling into a deep slumber. some part of him is trying to resist, you’re sure, still agonizing over the date he’s missing out on. as if anything matters more than his health.
but it doesn’t work. he can only let out a tiny groan, hopelessly pliant as you tuck him in, pulling a big blanket over his shoulders. you card through his hair, another soft kiss planted on his sweaty forehead — and your hand stays between his locks until you’re sure he’s asleep. his breathing mellows out, his grip around your waist loosens, seeking comfort from you even in his dreams.
you’d crawl under the blankets with him, but you have work to do.
stealing one final glance at your fever-ridden lover, your heartbeat ricochets. he still looks so meek, all warm and sweaty, shirt sticking to his skin. a frown tugs at your bottom lip.
satoru is always so stubborn, refusing to lean on others for support. you wish he had called you immediately, nagged at you to come baby him. sure, you might’ve sighed in faux exasperation, and teased him a little, but it still would’ve made you feel happy. useful. and you would’ve done it in a heartbeat. maybe, if you just prove that you can take care of him properly, he’ll do it next time.
so you stand up, leaning down to press your lips against his forehead one last time, and make your way towards the kitchen.
satoru’s house is spacious. a little too spacious, enough for at least three people to live in comfortably; nice furniture, an expensive sofa in the living room, a large tv you’re almost certain he only keeps around for white noise. such are the ways of the rich, you suppose. he doesn’t invite you over very often, so you’ve never had the chance to get very affiliated with the space. it’s always the other way around — him, waiting for you on the couch when you get home, chirping out an unconvincing don’t even worry about it, baby! when you ask how he got in without a key. or him, showing up at your doorstep in the middle of the night, filling the sleepy silence with jokes to distract you from the bags under his eyes.
(he likes it when you cling to him in your sleep — he sleeps a lot better that way. that’s what he told you, at least, when you brought him coffee in bed that one time. a little glimmer of honesty.)
he stays over so often he might as well just move in, but you aren’t really sure how to even approach that subject. some part of you fears it’d be too much, too intimate, that he’d pack his bags and run away. bringing all his secrets with him, that soft laughter you’ve grown so fond of. so you figure it’s better to let him make a home out of yours, let him curl up on your couch and snack on the candy you hid in your kitchen cabinets. that’s safe for him.
and now that you’ve seen his home up close — if you can even call it that — you think you’re starting to understand his preference. because it’s spacious, yes, but also empty. save for expensive furniture and fake houseplants, there isn’t anything to indicate that the apartment belongs to him, that he feels comfortable there. like he hasn’t even bothered to make it his. like it’s about to be sold, and you’re just one of the potential buyers, checking the place out. admiring the patterns of the floorboards and the walls.
it doesn’t feel like satoru at all. 
his own bedroom was another story, a much more pleasant one. a lot more satoru. filled with little trinkets, key charms and souvenirs and silly figurines. a framed photo of three students by the windowsill, an old uniform hanging by his closet, socks strewn about here and there. a dying houseplant. comic books and movie posters and a ps5 you don’t think he’s touched since he finished spiderman 2. a king sized bed, that makes him look like a spoiled little princess when he’s lying in it, next to a cat plushie you won for him at a fair. knowing he actually sleeps with it kind of makes you want to cry.
there’s this particular scent, too, lingering in the air. mellow, nostalgic, the kind that soothes you with just a whiff; a blend between sunlight, expensive cologne, and something sweet. it clings to all his favorite clothes, to his skin. you’d live in it if you could. 
something constricts, inside your chest — like thorny vines strangling your beating heart, pressing down ever so slightly. just thinking about it, about him, about his distressed expression as his head hit the pillow. making your way over to his kitchen, getting yourself affiliated with the space, preparing to make a good soup for his fever. the fridge is almost empty, save for sweets and that one drink you like. the takeout boxes on his kitchen table tells you all you need to know.
it only makes you worry more.
luckily, you were clever enough to buy your own ingredients on the way here. chop, chop, into tiny little pieces. chicken soup should help, shouldn’t it? it’s all you can focus on, all you can hope for. anything is fine; you just want to help him, be of use somehow. he does so much for you.
you just want to give some of it back.
satoru’s loneliness is a subtle thing. flexible, alert, slipping away at the slightest sign of knowing eyes. for someone who’s so often surrounded by people, cracking jokes and laughing louder than anyone else, he doesn’t seem to make any noise when he’s alone. he curls into himself, just a bit, and a kind of reminiscence smooths over the contours of his face. 
that’s when you see him. that lonely, lonely guy. resigned to his self-imposed isolation, paradoxically yearning for something more. watching as the cherry trees bloom, like they’ll give him the answers he seeks once they bear fruit.
but the moment you come into view, he smiles. knowing you won’t push it — that you’ll let him take his time. that you’ll let him flee, just a little. 
still, you can’t help but wish he’d lean on you a little more. you wish you could chase his loneliness away with a pitchfork, but it’s a fickle creature. you somehow doubt he wants to part with it. 
all you can do is love him. love him, love him, and love him some more; until he’s had his fill.
(you’re not sure he ever will. it’s a good thing, a very good thing, because you’re almost certain you’ll never run out.) 
and that’s why you’re here. in his ghost of a home, his kitchen, pouring water into a large pot. tender, sprinkling love over every single action, every slice and dice, every piece of chicken and veggies thrown into the boiling water. you try and you try, hoping it’ll reach him.
but before you can make another attempt, something reaches you, instead.
two long arms curl around your waist, suddenly, something warm and soft pressing itself against your back. and you almost flinch, completely caught up in the stirring of the soup, unsure of how much time has passed since you began. it jolts you out of your thoughts. 
you know who it is, though. never mind the fact that he’s the only other person in the apartment; you know it’s him by his touch alone, the weight of his arms, that particular scent that surrounds him. like memories of summer.
it’s awfully sweet, the way he clings to you, the soft little blissful sigh that slips from his lips. but before you can feel moved at the domesticity of the gesture, worry clouds your senses. he doesn’t even get the chance to speak.
”satoru —” you place a palm on his forearm, craning your head to look back at him. his forehead rests against your shoulder, and his eyes are closed. he’s still so warm, too warm. ”what are you doing here? you should be resting.” 
your boyfriend mumbles something, under his breath, something that your ears can’t quite digest. he shifts, a little, as if getting ready to put on some sort of act — to smile and joke, or laugh and tease you. you can imagine what he’d say if he wasn’t in such a feverish state; he’d hug you from behind, a low purr of what’cha up to? whispered right into your ear. then you’d jolt, and he’d giggle sheepishly, satisfied with the reaction.
but now, all he can do is cough. still leaning against you, gripping onto your midriff a little more desperately than usual. you step away from the stove, turning around, making sure your hands never leave his. looking up at him with concern in your eyes, noticing his little frown.
”c’mon, you need to lie down.” you reach for his cheek, cupping it in your palm, and he practically melts into it. enjoying the chilly sensation to his fever-ridden skin. “the soup’ll be finished soon, okay?”
”… you made,” he tries, syllables falling from his lips haphazardly. ”soup —” a series of coughs. they cut him off, and the worry in your chest only deepens. 
“don’t push yourself, okay? you’re really sick, dummy.” satoru pouts, but doesn’t say anything, only clinging to you tighter when you usher him away. “let’s go back to your room, alright?”
but he won’t budge. he’s so sleepy, so sick and delirious, putting all his body weight on you. you try your best not to stumble beneath it.
”honey,” you plead, holding him securely in your embrace. his arms around your waist, your hands on his shoulders. ”work with me, please? just gotta get you back to bed —”
”’s…” he whispers, suddenly, a raspy little thing. scratchy, meek, awfully earnest; you wonder if he’s too sick not to be. ”… too lonely without you.” 
a moment passes. your breath hitches pitifully, at the base of your throat.
satoru is hugging you so tightly, as if you could disappear at any moment, slip away if he doesn’t keep you close. he’s holding you as if pleading for comfort, for a touch of safety. as if he needs you. if his meek little admission hadn’t already melted your heart the marrow, that thought certainly would’ve done the job.
taking a moment to collect yourself, you inhale, face surely aflame. satoru just nuzzles into your shoulder, too tired to say anything else, wanting to be close to you. it’s a wonder your knees don’t buckle.
gently, you let your hand trail upwards, palm smoothing down his hair. softly, like he’s a clingy, overgrown cat. ”sorry,” you start, just a little breathless. ”i’ll be with you, okay? won’t leave you alone. i promise.”
there’s an earnesty in your words that you doubt you could ever fake. satoru must hear it too, you think, because he finally begins to work with you. allowing you to stumble towards his bedroom, supporting his weight.
but once you make it to his bed, he still refuses to let go of you.
”toru, gotta go finish that soup. ’n make you some tea.” you rub his back, soothingly, as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. shaking his head and emitting a throaty groan, only squeezing you tighter when you try to guide him under the covers. how cruel of him, to act so cute when said soup is most likely boiling over by the stove. ”please, sweetie? it won’t take long. i promise. you can go back to sleep.”
another groggy huff. you’re both still standing by the edge of the bed, and satoru still won’t let you leave. all you can do is sigh, smearing a little kiss against his neck. 
he squirms, ever so slightly, and you get an idea.
so you keep pressing little kisses against his skin, knowing just how to make him melt. feeling him relax in your embrace, snuggle into your chest, so pliant that he lets you tuck him in — as long as your lips stay pressed against his jaw. before he can realize what’s happening, you grab hold of the blanket, draping it over him; his half-lidded eyes blinking up at you. you press a final kiss against his forehead, grabbing the cat plushie from the edge of the bed and placing it close enough for satoru to reach if need be.
”i’ll hurry, toru. be a good boy and stay here, alright?” 
a teasing lilt sneaks into your voice, coaxed out by how adorable your boyfriend looks like this; baby blue eyes all droopy, snowy hair messy as it falls across the cushion he’s resting on. blinking sluggishly, grunting a little in response. 
when you scurry off the bed and make your way towards the door, you glance back at him. he’s still looking in your direction, with half-lidded eyes, and your chest aches. ”i’ll be back soon, baby,” you try to soothe him. “try to sleep.”
this time, you hurry. body working almost on autopilot, images of your boyfriend still tugging at your heartstrings like he’s arranging an orchestra, moving your legs forward. before you know it, you’re walking back, carrying a tray with both your hands. steam wafts up from the hot soup and the warm cup of tea, shaking a little as you walk, a pair of painkillers in your pocket. just in case he needs more. an eager, pulsating joy rushes through your veins — now you can be with him, tend to him, not leave him alone in a room so like him you wish you could stay there forever. 
your footsteps are light, almost careful as they cross the threshold. satoru stirs, waiting for you to come to his side, looking like a kicked puppy in his giant bed. he tries to lift himself up, but it looks like it requires an intense amount of focus, like his elbows could buckle any second. 
”careful,” you croon, hurrying over, placing the tray on the nightstand. gently pushing him back down on the mattress. he complies almost instantly, too out of it to put up a real fight. staring at you, as if in awe.
to satoru, you appear almost as an angel, a somewhat blurry figure that he recognizes without looking. your very presence is soothing, like a lullaby in human form. with the hazy filter clouding his mind, he can’t even seem to form words correctly — all satoru can focus on is you. your movements, the lilt of your voice, a cold hand dulling the heat of his forehead.  
his fever still hasn’t gone down. you try and muster a smile, but you’re sure it must look painfully coated in unease. crouching down, you place your elbows on the bed, your jaw meeting the mattress. you’re at eye level with him, now.
”hey,” you start, low and comforting. you don’t want to be too loud. ”sorry it took so long.”
using what little energy he has left, satoru crosses the distance between you, inching closer and closer. noticing it, you reach a hand out to cup his cheek — lips quick to find his forehead. a barely audible sigh leaves him, and you smile.
”d’you think you can eat?” you whisper, gazing at him fondly. treating him a little like a baby, maybe, but you can’t help it when he’s like this. quiet as a mouse. ”i made soup and tea… sound okay?”
he tries to make a noise. it comes out sounding like a strange blend between a dissatisfied groan and an affirming hum, but he still ends up nodding slightly. you wonder if indulging you is ingrained into his bone structure. 
”… okay. think you can sit up, toru?”
once again, your boyfriend only hums — but he does begin to move, trying to hoist himself up, wobbling pitifully. you help, keeping him steady until his spine meets the headboard. slumped against it, he blinks slowly, feverishly.
”thank you.” you press a chaste kiss against his cheek, before reaching for the cup of tea, the scent of chamomile and lavender filling your senses. you blow on it softly. ”here. it should help with your throat, so try to drink a bit, okay? s’ got honey in it.”
silently, he accepts the cup, bringing it to his lips. when he takes a sip, you catch the slightest hint of a grimace on his lips; even with your warning of careful, it’s hot, you think he must have managed to burn his tongue. 
satoru keeps his thoughts to himself, not wanting to worry you. but he can’t say bringing himself to drink it is an easy endeavor, with how sweaty it makes him feel, how it forces him to acknowledge how painfully dry his throat is. how he can’t even taste the herbs.
he wants to be good for you, though.
so he gulps it down, slowly, managing to sip almost all of it until you decide to give him a break. compared to this morning, he already feels just a little better, a little less like he’s in a fever dream. you’re sitting by the bedside, so patient, so caring. he can’t take his eyes off you, even now. clearing his throat, attempting to get used to speaking again. ”thanks.”
the mutter sounds strained, but slightly easier on the ears, easier to make out than before. courtesy of the honey, you assume. gosh, you hadn’t realized you’d begun to miss his voice so much. 
”no problem,” you hum, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “think you can eat something? or is that too much?”
”’course,” he croaks. there’s a slight sense of liveliness in his eyes that wasn’t there before, but before he can continue, he’s caught off by a small coughing fit. harmless, but sufficient in making you worry. 
”no need to force yourself,” you soothe, patting down his head, watching as he quiets down. the tea might’ve given him a temporary energy boost, but you still don’t want him to overdo it. “just relax, satoru.”
he hums, weakly, and you reward him with a light ruffle of his hair. then you direct your attention to the soup on the nightstand, still hot, smelling of vegetable broth and fresh chicken and coriander. you bring the bowl down to your lap, and take a spoonful of the soup, blowing on it like you did with the tea. bringing it towards his lips. 
”i dunno if it’ll taste very good,” you admit, scratching absently at the back of your neck. ”but it should help with the fever, at least. i’d be happy if you could eat a bit.”
as his lips make contact with the metal of the spoon, satoru can’t help but let himself be swept away. he still feels a little too hazy, too feverish to really comprehend what’s happening; he feels oddly bare like this, vulnerable, a little afraid of what might come out of his mouth if he doesn’t keep it shut. so he opts to accept the treatment he’s receiving, not putting up a fight or making a fuss. not meeting your expectant eyes.
(he feels a little shy, being spoonfed by you. how very unlike him.)
the soup does feel soothing. he thinks he can even get a sense of the taste, how hard you must’ve worked on it. but more than anything, the way you’re acting is like balm to his soul — looking at him so kindly, treating him so tenderly. offering him spoon after spoon with gentle words of encouragement. being babied in such a way makes him feel so oddly content that he’s almost embarrassed. it should be the other way around. 
yet here you are, spoonfeeding him soup that you made yourself, because he’s sick, even though he hates to admit it, and you care about him. he allows the information to linger in the back of his head, for a while, wallowing in the comfort it brings him. fully comprehending it would take too much of a toll on him, in this state. 
satoru basks in the intimacy of the situation, and so do you. brushing strands of hair away when they stick to his skin, pressing your lips against his forehead to check his temperature. you keep doing it until satoru’s appetite dwindles.
”alright, that should be fine —” you glance down at the bowl, now roughly half-empty. more than enough, you think. ”uhh… how do you feel?”
”… better,” satoru answers, truthfully, the ghost of a smile on his glossy lips. ”thank you.”
for a second, you only stare, saying nothing. there’s something in satoru’s expression that catches you off guard, something that’s a little hard to identify. is it the way the light reflects off his skin, his pupils? the red, feverish flush of his skin? that flimsy little smile? or is it the honesty in his eyes, the way he’s looking at you like he’s trying to convey something he can’t put into words? 
as you look at him, take him in, the boy you love so dearly, you can’t help but feel like he just carved open his chest — let you peek inside his ribcage. it’s hard not to feel flustered, in the presence of something so vulnerable.
and he’s thanking you. as if taking care of him is a great burden, a chore, something you’d demand gratitude for. you want to tell him that it’s the bare minimum, the very least of what he deserves. the very least of what you could, should do for him.
you want to tell him that he’s safe, here. that there’s no need to be the strongest, whatever the hell that means, that he can let go of the burdens you know he hides from you. that he can just be your sick, terribly stubborn boyfriend.
”… okay,” is all you breathe out, every other word getting stuck in the back of your throat. ”that’s good.”
satoru’s fingers curl around yours, suddenly, where they lay on your lap. his movements are still a little groggy, disoriented, as he brings your hand up to his lips. they’re warm and soft, especially so in light of his fever. he closes his eyes, white lashes catching the light of the sun, flitting in through the haphazardly closed blinds. your heartbeat stutters.
”… love you,” he mutters. a soft little thing. your eyes don’t leave his face. and your lips part before your brain can instruct them to.
”i love you too,” you blurt out, instantaneous. like you couldn’t bear to keep him waiting, even for a second. ”… satoru.”
he smiles against your skin. he always does, at the sound of those words. you make him feel so terribly, terribly weak, all the time, everyday. you make him feel so human, and he can’t bring himself to think of it as a bad thing anymore. 
he’s still cradling your hand when he brings it down to the blanket. ”thanks for coming,” he continues, pushing himself. trying to get the words out while he still has the energy to say them. “you didn’t have to.”
they’re a little clumsy, a little stale on his tongue, but they’re honest. he is thankful — the prospect of being seen like this is discomforting, gruelingly so, but he doesn’t mind nearly as much if it’s you. he’d never tell you, but he did feel just a little lonely, when he woke up this morning. disoriented, enveloped by hot flashes of pain, in a way he’s not used to in the slightest. missing out on your date, too, that he had been looking forward to ever since you decided on a time. 
but, as if sensing it, you came to his rescue. the feeling of your lips on his skin was the first sensation he felt, when he woke up for the second time — with you by his side, this time. his guardian angel, carrying the scent of spring with you. a memory of a certain boy, of better times. 
(satoru thinks you’re nostalgia personified. he likes to imagine that you met as children, underneath a cherry tree somewhere, but he knows it’s not true. there’s no way he wouldn’t remember you.)
you smile. pleased, at his show of vulnerability, small as it may be. ”i wanted to,” you assure him. equally honest, equally full of double meanings and hidden messages that neither of you need to uncover to understand. ”… i care about you. of course i’d come.”
a light, raspy chuckle; that’s all satoru manages to vocalize. his mind is stuffed, and there’s an ache in his chest, longing to be filled. it’s been there for a while now. but somehow, you seem to fill it up, slowly but surely, almost effortlessly — with every sound you make, every slight movement, every flicker of an expression on your face. everything seems so effortlessly perfect, in his eyes.
the words leave his lips before his mind can think the thought to reel them back in. 
”what did i do to deserve you…?”
you blink. a moment passes.
then your eyes soften, considerably so, crumbling at the corners like the cookies satoru loves so much. he’s looking at you, eyes soft in a similar sense, layered over with adoration. you think the love inside your chest might crawl out of your throat and eat him alive.
you give him a chuckle of your own, quivering slightly. terribly fond. this time, you’re the one who drags his hand up to meet your lips; kissing his knuckle softly. his breath hitches.
”i’m the one who should be saying that to you,” you grin, a little weakly. and you mean it. you don’t think you’ve ever meant anything more. 
it’s so honest that it strikes a cord right down his heart, more heat than the fever can account for rushing to his cheeks. satoru hopes you don’t notice it. all he can do is squeeze your fingers, lightly, not trusting his voice not to break. silence lingers, and you only gaze at him softly. 
”… do you want anything else?” you finally ask, with a tilt of your head. still so eager to assist, racking your brain to come up with anything else to do for him. ”i’ll get it for you, no matter what it is.”
and, truthfully, satoru thinks you’ve done more than enough. more than he could ever make up for. but he’s always been greedy, and there’s one thing, only one thing, one thing he can’t help but ask for. something he craves more than anything. he can’t help but indulge himself, indulge in his selfishness, in the need to feel your skin against his. 
so he stretches his arms out, and looks at you with a distinctly needy glint in his eyes. his fingers move in a grabby motion, almost unconsciously, and he might’ve been embarrassed if he wasn’t still so feverish. all he wants is to keep you close, to make the hollowness inside his chest dissipate. you always make that lonely feeling go away.
needless to say, you heed his request. almost instantly, your heart pumping in a steady rhythm, with this visceral desire to keep him close, to protect him. and who are you to resist, when he’s asking you for it himself?
you waste no time crawling beneath the covers, situating yourself right next to your lover. only then do you finally, finally, reach your arms out to pull him close; so close you feel the heat of his skin, the beat of his heart. his cheek meets the softness of your chest, snuggling closer, and you card a hand through his soft locks. his arms reach around your midriff, a perfect puzzle piece, and he releases an audible sigh — deep and satisfied. in his tired, clingy state, he subconsciously throws a leg over yours, trapping you further. 
you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
finally, satoru can fall asleep. with the fever still clouding his senses, and your nimble fingers smoothing along his scalp, the occasional kiss to his head as he listens to your soft heartbeat, he’s drifted off before either of you know it. melting into you, into your warm embrace, cheek squished against your chest. tiny little breaths fall from his lips, and you feel like you’re cradling the whole world in your arms. 
you’re relieved. making yourself comfortable on your back, with satoru sleeping soundly on top of you, hoping he’ll feel better when he wakes up. careful, even with your breathing, intent on letting him sleep. knowing he doesn’t get nearly as much rest as he should, most days. 
before long, even you succumb to the cozy atmosphere, gradually dozing off. satoru is always warm, even more so now, and his weight is comforting.
stifling a yawn, you tug him a little bit closer, allowing your eyes to flutter shut. you could use a day of catching up on lost sleep, too.
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when you wake up, you’re acutely aware of something poking your cheek.
it’s a ticklish sensation, sort of irritating, and it rouses you from your cozy slumber. disgruntled, so cruelly ripped away from your sweet dreams — satoru was in it, you think. you feel robbed.
still, you can’t be too mad. not when the real deal is right in front of you, eyes crinkled and full of warmth, a teasing smile on his lips. he’s still snuggled into your chest, all cozy and cute, as you lay on your back, propped up by a myriad of fluffy pillows. he looks up at you adoringly.
”well hello there,” he purrs, shooting a giddy little grin your way. still poking your cheek. ”wakey-wakey, sunshine!”
a series of blinks. you stir a little further, the sleepy haze of your brain beginning to slip off, slowly but surely. it takes a couple of seconds for you to remember why you’re here, what happened before you fell asleep. 
”… hey,” you greet, at last, stifling a yawn and squeezing your eyes shut. stretching lazily, like a sleepy cat. ”how do you feel…?”
”i’m perfect. better than perfect, actually,” satoru chirps, a little cheeky, hoisting himself up so that he’s hovering above you. a hint of mischief in those pretty eyes. ”you’re a good nurse, y’know?”
you huff out a chuckle. as always, his actions reveal more than his words — you could tell he felt a lot better the moment you saw his smile, heard how he formed his words. “alright, that’s good,” you hum, exhaling softly. ”how long was i asleep? what time is it?”
”i woke up just now, too,” satoru lies, albeit a small one. he did wake up recently, only to spend what he thinks must’ve been at least fifteen minutes staring at you until he physically couldn’t take it anymore. he had to hear your voice, see your smile. it’s a personal record for him; usually he spends less time admiring your peaceful expression, far too eager to speak to you.
”it’s pretty late,” he continues, another small lie. pleased with himself. ”way too late for you to go back, actually. how about you spend the night?”
another blink, your eyelids heavy and droopy as they open and close. then you’re reaching for your phone on the nightstand, and checking the time. a smile is quick to bloom on your lips, teasing and bubbly, as you tilt your head to meet his gaze.
”it’s only four, satoru.”
”way, way too late,” he only reaffirms, flopping down on top of you again, keeping you from leaving. ”god knows what kinda creeps are out there at this hour — much too unsafe. i’m just looking out for you, baby.”
”of course,” you indulge him, a sly little roll of your eyes that makes him pout. ”you know i was planning on staying over anyway, right?”
”well, of course! i wouldn’t expect anything less from my favorite nurse.”
his eyes betray his words, gleaming with a sudden colour of excitement, all glitter and relief. a joy that clogs up his throat like seafoam, and spills out from his lips. you look down at him, for a second, unable to resist the temptation — reaching for his forehead with the back of your hand. 
it’s significantly less scalding, now. 
you let out a sigh, laced with relief, one you didn’t know you’d been holding in. ”it really has gone down,” you hum, stretching the sleep from your limbs again. “that’s good.”
satoru huffs. ”i said i was perfect, right? don’t you trust me, my sweet lover?”
”i never know with you,” you give him a huff of your own, exasperated. fond. “you said you were just fine this morning, too.”
”i was!” he whines. piling up lie after lie. “i totally could’ve made it to that date, you know. i got worse because you had no faith in my abilities.”
”right. of course.” you shoot him a lopsided grin. ”you just don’t wanna admit the fever beat your ass, huh?”
”see? no faith.” a chuckle slips from your lips, and satoru has to bite back a smile. ”unbelievable. i fought that fever off just for you, and here you are, laughing at me.”
”oh? i thought it was thanks to my top notch nursing skills?”
”well, that too! but it was mostly me.”
a sigh. “whatever you say.” then you’re smiling, once more, unable to help yourself. eyes crinkled at the edges, soft around the corners. ”i’m just glad you’re better. i was worried.”
satoru pouts, again, but you can tell he acknowledges it — your earnest concern. this is how you love, the both of you, through words that never say it all and actions that say the words your mouths can’t fit. decoding the meaning of it all in silent gestures, glints in your eyes. little truth games.
”you really thought a lil’ fever was gonna be enough to keep me down?” he shakes his head once, then twice. and you know that what he means to say is i never want you to worry. “c’mon, now, baby.”
another lighthearted roll of your eyes. ”yeah, yeah, yeah. my sincerest apologies, my strong, stubborn, totally-not-sick boyfriend.”
”don’t you mean your strong, perfect, beautiful, clever, flawless, totally-not-sick boyfriend?”
”don’t think i didn’t notice you sneaking the stubborn out of there.”
”hehe.”
a silent moment passes, something tender filling up the space between your words. satoru’s weight is still so comforting, like a big blanket, his arms enveloping you as he breathes in your scent. you’re so happy that he’s acting insufferable again.
”alright, my honeybee,” he suddenly chirps, breaking the silence, hoisting himself up. ”time to go. we can still get those crêpes if we hurry.”
you blink. once, then twice.
”… satoru.”
”yeah? what’s up?”
you give him an unimpressed look, gazing up at him, towering over you like he fully thought you’d be alright with letting him leave. ”you’re… not going out today,” you deadpan. “you know that, right?”
this time, he’s the one who blinks. once, then twice.
”huh? why not?”
”uh, because you’re sick, maybe?”
”what?” satoru pretends to be shocked, offended, as if he can’t believe you’d even suggest something so outrageous. ”i’m all better, though!”
you raise an eyebrow, thoroughly displeased. all better? ”your fever isn’t gone, satoru. it’s just not horrible anymore. you’ll get yourself even more sick if you go out now.”
”i won’t! seriously!” he insists, looking down at you with a sorry attempt at puppy dog eyes. ”i feel good enough to run a marathon!”
”you’re not doing that either,” you mutter. then a sigh, exasperated. you can’t let this charade go on for too long. ”come on, satoru — don’t be so stubborn. we can go there another time.”
”but —”
”besides, didn’t you say i have to spend the night because it’s too late to go outside? remember the creeps?” there’s amusement in your voice, a light smile on your lips. ”what if they get us?”
”well, they obviously won’t get you while i’m there,” he huffs. ”what, you don’t think i can protect you properly? you’re hurting me, angel.”
you bite back an incredulous laugh. god, he’s stubborn. you’re so in love with him you just barely restrain the urge to pull him in for a kiss.
”sa-to-ru,” you coo, dragging each syllable out, sending a shiver down his spine. ”we’re not going outside. end of discussion.”
”why not, though?” he continues to pout, still refusing to give in. resorting to cheap guilt-tripping. ”don’t you wanna go on a date with me? you don’t want to see me happy, is that it?”
you only sigh, thoroughly exasperated, reaching up to cup his cheek nonetheless. he nuzzles into it. ”you’re such a baby.”
”your baby.”
another sigh, to mask your adoration. at this rate, the back and forth will never end, so you scramble for solutions.
“can’t we just have our date here?” you suggest, after some contemplation. ”i bought some ice cream on my way here. we could watch a movie, or something. isn’t that enough?”
satoru’s eyes bore into yours. contemplative, as he lets the silence linger, gears turning inside his mind. he wants to go outside with you, wants to hold your hand and hear you hum happily as you bite into your crêpe; wants to steal a bite when you’re not looking.
but it is a tempting offer. you could eat ice cream, and binge a bunch of movies, and he could rest his head in your lap. coax you into playing with his hair.
(he’s maybe, just maybe, a little bit tired, too.)
so, finally, he sighs — softly. in resignation. 
”… well, i guess that’s fine,” he pouts, allowing himself to fall back into your embrace. his voice is muffled, as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. ”i wanted crêpes, though…”
”i’ll get you your crepes,” you assure him, relieved to have reached a compromise. ”i can go buy ’em myself and come back. then we —”
”no, no, no!” satoru suddenly interjects. whining, tugging you closer. ”you’re not going anywhere. not without me!”
a sigh, just as adoring as it is fatigued. ”then i’ll… order crêpes, or something. or we’ll eat ice cream today and then crêpes when you’re better. does that sound okay?”
satoru is silent, for a while.
”… okay,” he hums. ”that’s fine.”
”haah. okay, good —”
”however!” 
you give him a look, a silent what now? that has him smiling. shuffling a little, in your embrace, planting his jaw on top of your chest and gazing up at you with a grin. ”instead of the crêpes, i want a kiss.”
you blink. exasperated, as an amused chuckle follows. ”so convoluted. you can just ask, you know?” you don’t give him time to answer, eager to appease the pouty man. ”whatever.” 
leaning in, you press a chaste kiss to his cheek. sweet and soft. to your surprise, he’s still pouting when you pull away. ”i meant on the lips,” he explains, as if it was obvious. 
a tilt of your head. 
”… but you’re sick.”
”so?” satoru just pouts, expression practically etched into his face at this point. ”you won’t kiss me anymore? just cause i’ve got a tiny, miniscule fever?” he huffs, turning his head to the right and shutting his eyes. ”if you don’t love me anymore, you can just say that.”
another sigh leaves your lips. he’s so ridiculous. you can’t really deny him, though.
”… fine. it’s your fault if i get sick, though.”
in the blink of an eye, he’s perked right back up. wagging his non-existent tail, closing his eyes and waiting for you to try again. silly.
but you relent. his lips are only slightly warmer than usual, and you choose to see it as the good sign it is, proof that his fever truly is starting to dissipate. you feel satoru relax, melting into the kiss, but before it can drag out too long you’ve pulled away. ”— there. happy now?” 
”for now,” he quips, equally teasing. he’s cute, though. a little kiss or two is a small price to pay for the spark of joy in his iris, even if it ends with you sick on your deathbed in a couple of days. 
”that’ll do,” you grin, hoisting yourself up with your elbows, carrying satoru with you, his jaw still on your chest. ”wanna go eat some ice cream, mr unreasonable?”
you don’t really need an answer. of course satoru wants ice cream. you’ve never seen him turn down anything sweet — and, lo and behold, he perks up again, getting into a sitting position. like an excited puppy. 
”got it,” you chuckle, stopping to think for a moment. “there’s soup left, too. but maybe you’d rather order something? it turned out kinda so-so.”
satoru gapes. ”you kidding? that was the best soup i’ve ever had!” 
his exclamation makes you roll your eyes, words so coated in confidence that you almost want to believe him. ”satoru. you don’t have to lie.”
”i’m not!”
”you couldn’t even taste it.”
”i could, i could!” he stubbornly whines. ”i tasted all your love. every single drop!”
you give him a look. he only grins at you, a little teasing, a little giddy. you can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed; averting your gaze with a sharp scoff, trying to appear unbothered. ”yeah? and how did my love taste?”
satoru leans forward. it’s sudden, and you blink, instinctively leaning back in turn. he’s wearing a signature smirk when he stops moving, close enough that you feel his breath on your skin. hot.
”delicious,” he purrs, glancing down at your lips. blue eyes gleaming with mirth. ”best thing i’ve ever had.”
you know he’s just trying to fluster you, so you try to fight against it, but it doesn’t work nearly as well as you’d like — crumbling under his gaze, averting your own with a quiet huff. and he lets you off the hook, satisfied with your embarrassed expression. pulling back slightly, letting you breathe. 
as swiftly as you can, you regain your composure. clearing your throat. ”well, you can have more of it later, then,” you make a move to get off the bed. ”let’s go eat ice cream.”
after being caged in by satoru for so long, your limbs are a little stiff, caught under the weight of his boundless love. when your feet hit the soft flooring, you stretch them out, watching satoru follow your lead. still clad in that sweaty shirt.
”you should probably get a change of clothes,” you suggest, exhaling as your muscles loosen up. ”you’ve been wearing that shirt all day.”
”oh? is that an excuse to see me out of it, sweetheart?” satoru grins, fresh mischief gleaming in his eyes. ”you know you can always just ask.” 
you huff out a sardonic breath. ”yeah, yeah, whatever. throw on a hoodie or something, weirdo.” you stifle a giggle when he makes an offended noise behind you. “and some pants.”
”you don’t like the underwear?” he looks towards the corner of the room, studying himself in the mirror. “this is an expensive brand, you know?”
”you’re the only person on planet earth who’d give a fuck about underwear brands,” you scoff, a little snarky. ”just — put some comfortable clothes on, okay? i’ll go get the ice cream ready.”
”wait!” he exclaims, attaching himself to you, curling his arms around your bicep. “you’re not allowed to go anywhere without me, remember?” 
“… okay, okay. hurry up and get changed, then.”
sitting back down on the bed, while satoru walks towards the closet, you scroll through your phone — refusing to meet his expectant stare. he wants you to look over, you’re well aware, just so he can tease you for trying to sneak a peek. but you’re not falling for it this time. 
when he’s done, he’s wearing a comfy hoodie and some sweatpants. it’s a good look on him, casual and cozy. awfully cute. he wastes no time in attaching himself to you, again, an arm linked with yours as you travel to the kitchen; grabbing the pints of ice cream from the freezer, a couple snack bags from the drawers, before plopping down on the couch.
satoru maneuvers you into his lap, and you don’t put up a fight, leaning into him as your back meets his chest. he keeps you locked in place, arms around your waist, planting his jaw on the top of your head. and he relaxes, comforted by your smaller body pressed up against his. holding you so close satisfies a certain protective itch in his brain, never failing to calm him down. a safe haven, of sorts.
you watch the movie and eat the snacks, chattering away, letting the silence linger every now and then. after a while, satoru gets a slight headache, resting his head in your lap and whining for you to soothe him. you do so without any teasing; you’re much too soft for him. and he’s still sick, even if he’s doing better. you couldn’t resist him even if you tried.
so you opt to indulge him.
”baby, i think my fever’s going up again…” satoru pouts, gazing up at you through fluttering lashes. ”can you check?”
you smile, with a raise of your eyebrow. ”this is the fifth time you’ve asked me to check your temperature, toru.”
”just wanna make sure,” he whines. “please?”
with an exaggerated sigh, you lean down, lips once again meeting his forehead — humming against his skin. nope, his temperature hasn’t gone up. just like it hadn’t gone up the last time you checked, or the time before that.
”you’re good.”
”oh, thank god,” he exhales. ”are you sure? like, a hundred percent sure? maybe you should check again. just in case.”
”satoru,” you coo, a teasing lilt on the tip of your tongue. ”you can just ask me if you want a kiss.”
”a kiss? scandalous. i just wanna make sure my condition doesn’t worsen.”
he’s grinning, and you’re rolling your eyes, and both of you know damn well you’re going to indulge him anyway. he sighs in satisfaction when he feels your soft lips on his heated skin.
”hmm…” you narrow your eyes, thoughtfully, before looking down at him with a teasing smile. ”nope. definitely still the same temperature.” 
”you sure?”
”a hundred percent.”
”hmm. okay, got it.” he rolls over, burying his face in your stomach. wrapping his limbs around your midriff. “that’s good. just wanted to check, you know?”
”of course.”
”might need you to check again soon. just to be safe,” he chirps, biting back a soft grin. you don’t bother hiding yours.
”got it, got it,” you coo, fingers carding through his messy hair. “anything for my sick baby.” 
satoru releases a soft breath, bordering on a giggle. you can’t help but let your smile grow wider, heart brimming with affection. you let it clog up your chest until the movie’s almost over, and you simply can’t help yourself anymore.
”your room is very like you.”
it’s sudden, breaking the peaceful silence, making satoru stir. you’re both starting to get sleepy again. but he blinks up at you, studying your expression before parting his lips.
”… oh? how so?”
“well…” you stop to think. humming, absently fidgeting with a lock of your boyfriend’s hair. ”when i first walked in, i thought the whole house felt kind of empty, you know?”
satoru hums. unsure of where the conversation is going, maybe just a little intrigued. he mostly just likes listening to you talk. 
”but then i went into your room, and — it just felt very you. kinda messy, and stuff, but cozy. and a little sentimental.” satoru looks up at you, admiring that certain soft glimmer in your eyes. you meet his stare with a smile. ”maybe it doesn’t make sense? i guess i’ve just been thinking about it.”
he closes his eyes.
there’s something soft in your tone, something silky and simple, and he can tell you’re being sincere. it’s something he likes about you — that willingness to be soft, almost pridefully so, to bare yourself even if you aren’t sure that he’ll return the favour. he likes to think it’s rubbing off on him, slowly but surely; he doesn’t think he’s quite as bad as before. telling you about things that are dear to him isn’t something that scares him, anymore. and even when you see him vulnerable, sick and delirious in bed, he isn’t afraid that you’ll use it against him.
you’re a comfort; his safe haven. a place to rest his weary head. maybe you always have been, even before he really got to know you.
”i like your place more,” he finally admits, lighthearted in its weight. your gaze flits down, but his is still lingering on the tv, not really paying attention to it. ”it feels very… you.”
a smile crawls up to rest against your lips. playing along, your hands finding solace in between his fluffy locks. ”how so?”
and satoru smiles. eyes sparkling with something mellow, like a soda pop cracked open on a boiling summer day. he shifts a little, just to gaze up at you again. ”it’s… homely. warm,” his smile only grows. “and awfully sentimental.”
he lifts a hand up, to touch your cheek. tender, as his thumb smooths against your skin. it’s warm, beneath his touch, heating up with every word he speaks. satoru’s love feels a little like the sun, when it spills out this fervently, like it could burn you into cinders — you think you’d be happy to lie in the ashes. he’s smiling at you, like sunshine, like little dusty specks of light. and he exhales.
”i wouldn’t mind staying there forever.”
the expression on his face is a lovely one. you take a moment to simply bask in it, desperate to etch it into your memory. you don’t think you could forget it even if you tried. how fondly the light of the room embraces him, that soft grin he’s shooting your way, only vaguely teasing. and his eyes, the gateways to his soul, so sincere you can’t look away.
you love this man with your whole chest. you knew before, you’ve known for a long time, but each day you fall in love all over again. it’s all you can think as you look at him, all snug and safe and happy in your lap.
you don’t realize you’ve been staring at him silently until he chuckles, pulling you out of your sentimental stupor. it only flusters you further.
”you’re cute,” satoru croons, still cradling your cheek. tender, soft fingertips against your heated skin. all you manage is a meek little furrow of your brows, but that only makes him chuckle again.
”… you can.”
he blinks. still smiling.
”stay forever, i mean.”
you can’t look at him, when you say it. the words are barely above a whisper, and you aren’t sure if they’re conscious or not. it’d be nice to say they just slipped out, but they feel somewhat deliberate, all the same. you know you mean them, either way. it’s the one thing you’re sure of.
this time, satoru is the one who can do nothing but stare, his expression unreadable. you try not to let your gaze wander to his face, his eyes; but through the peripheral of your vision, you feel like you catch a particular kind of sadness reflected in them. or maybe it’s something closer to yearning, longing. something like that.
”… well,” he finally hums, voice so low you barely pick up on it. ”maybe i will, then.”
you reach something. 
you catch a glimpse of it, at least, for just a second or two. something warm and bare, something simple and incomprehensible at the same time. an emotion so strong it leaves you reeling, yet still so light. it’s there and then it isn’t, just out of reach, and you think that if you could only find the courage to curl your fingers around his, then —
a laugh track plays from the tv, snapping you both out of your thoughts.
(the moment passes before you can fully understand it, fully comprehend it. maybe some part of you already has.)
satoru chuckles, reaching for another ball of mochi and popping it into his mouth. ”this movie’s awful, huh?”
”yeah,” you’re quick to agree, maybe a little too quick. grinning weakly. ”it’s good in a so bad it’s good kinda way, though.”
he hums in absentminded agreement, still chewing on the soft treat. keeping his gaze steady on the screen, the flicker of emotional scenes he hasn’t been keeping track of, barely resisting the urge to look up at you again. but his heart already feels a little too mushy for his liking — he’s not sure he could take it.
satoru doesn’t get sick often.
his immune system is strong, there’s no denying that. but more than anything, he simply can’t afford to be sick. there are people who need him, people who depend on him, and the idea of being in such a defenseless state — stuck in bed while the world continues to spin, unattended — makes him feel so anxious he could throw up. even sleeping makes him feel a little skittish, sometimes, though he’s gotten a lot better since he started falling asleep with you in his arms.
it’s funny, he thinks. before you, being sick wasn’t something that really existed in his world. if he felt a little under the weather he would simply puff out his chest and down a painkiller or two, waving it off with a flick of his wrist; no biggie, really. he’s satoru gojo, after all, and the world needs his eyes on it.
but then you came along. you came to his rescue, spring in your pockets, and you took care of him, with what he knows to be love. genuine, earnest concern for his wellbeing. his happiness.
yeah — it’s funny, for sure. satoru never thought he’d ever enjoy being sick. 
yet here he is, head in your lap, feeling you run your fingers through his hair. kissing his forehead whenever he whines, indulging his little convoluted ploys. bringing him soup, when he gets hungry again, soup you made yourself. he wasn’t kidding when he said he tasted your love through it; it was all he could taste, with his numbed out senses, all he could feel.
you’re so good to him. there’s nothing he would trade for these moments with you, absolutely nothing. he’s glad you came over, after all. glad you’re so stubborn, and oh so caring. satoru can’t help but smile, heart almost stuffed to the brim with gratitude — what could he possibly do with this immense love in his chest?
”i love you so much,” he blurts out, practically beaming. now you’re in his lap, again, and he takes the opportunity to smear openmouthed kisses against your neck. delighting in the little squeak you try to muffle.
”where did that come from?” you blink, squirming a little in his embrace. a movie is still playing on the tv screen, one better than the last — your attention was fixed on it before satoru broke the silence.
”just felt like saying it!” he only chirps, grinning ear to ear. ”i love you. you’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he murmurs, earnestly, lips against your skin. ”my whole world.”
for a moment, you wonder if the fever is making him delirious. then again, this is pretty standard for satoru; always eager to fluster you, to shower you with love until you’re pushing him away. it’s overwhelming, but you’ve never minded. this is how you measure his love — little gaps between too much and never enough.
”… you’re not gonna say it back?” comes a whine, right by your ear. now he’s nibbling at your neck, little beast that he is, pouting because you let the silence linger for too long. he’s being such a baby about it. but you still rush to reassure him, echoing his words in earnest. 
”i love you too, satoru,” you smile, slightly exasperated. craning your neck so that your lips can meet his jaw, and satoru grins, giddy at the attention. ”my whole universe.”
satoru lets out a happy little noise, almost a giggle, sleepy and pleased. his arms squeeze you just a little tighter, like you could never be close enough, even when he’s got you in his lap like this. if he could, he’d keep you there all the time. attached at the hip, close as can be. 
even with a ruined date, even after worrying you, he feels well and truly satisfied. because you're here, and you’re watching a good movie, and you’re gonna stay over tonight. when it gets dark out, he’ll get to fall asleep cuddled up beside you, hold you in his arms and feel you nuzzle into his chest. then he’ll pepper your face with kisses to wake you up, and you’ll grumble all sweetly, and he’ll carry you to the kitchen despite your grumpy protests. you’ll eat breakfast together, chatting and enjoying the way the sunlight flickers around the room like a happy cat. maybe he can even make you breakfast himself, to thank you for today. 
if the fever’s gone by then, you’ll probably let him outside. then you can go get those crêpes, and maybe go to a park, or to the movie theatre, or a fun arcade, before heading back to your apartment to relax. and then he’ll stay over. the day after, too. and the day after that.
living together with you wouldn’t be so bad, he thinks. it wouldn’t be bad at all, actually. 
the thought has been on his mind for a while, now. getting to fall asleep with you every night, eat breakfast with you every morning, see more of your footprints in his life… satoru can’t think of anything he’d like more. maybe he’ll start hinting at it, slowly but surely. if he can lure you into broaching the subject, that would be ideal — but if he has to, he doesn’t mind doing it himself. you’re worth the emotional toll.
you curl into your boyfriend a little further, his jaw now resting cheekily on the top of your head, large palms underneath your shirt and rubbing circles into your bare skin. you have no idea what he’s thinking, no idea about his plans, and he thinks that’s for the best. he knows you’ll indulge him, at the end of the day.
maybe he’ll just ask you, tomorrow. if you say no, he can just blame it on the fever making him delirious.
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kirishwima · 2 years
Text
Day 6 and still very much covid positive and symptomatic woop woop
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yeonzzzn · 7 days
Note
Heard the reqs opened?👀 can i pleease have smth with titty obsessed soft dom jay?🥺
Also can i be❄️ anon?
oh softdom titty obsessed jay has me in my feels 😮‍💨 anon this is a beautiful request! and yes absolutely you can be my ❄️ anon🩵
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obsession: park jongseong
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pairing: jay x afab!reader word count: 986
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“You look so pretty taking me like this,” Jay cooed, slowly pumping himself in and out of your cunt, “Such a good girl for me.” 
You clenched around him at his praises, tracing your fingers down from his shoulders, and biceps, to his wrists and then cupping his hands that were holding your breasts and rocking your hips back and forth in the same rhythm as his. 
Jay is obsessed with your tits. He loves the way they look in his hands, loves the way they look when they're pressed up against him, how they look in your bras and dresses, and even how they look bare. Everything about your tits he loves. He can’t keep his hands off them. 
Mostly when you’re riding him like how you are now. It drives him crazy seeing how you bounce on his cock with his hands cupping your tits. Squeezing them every so often to feel the plush push passed his fingers. It sends chills down his spine every single time. 
Jay groans at the feeling of you clenching around him, “Keep squeezing me like that, pretty girl, and see what happens.” 
His tone was so dominant and so aggressive yet so calming and soothing. You’d never guess this man was so dominant in the bedroom with how calmly and softly he spoke to you. 
Jay will never hesitate to fuck your brains out in the most rough way possible while his voice is one of an angel. Praising and kissing you so gently through it all while you cum around his dick. Hands still on your tits through it all. 
Again Jay is obsessed with them. He always has to have his hands on your tits no matter what is going on. 
Jay's favorite time to have them cupped in his hands is obviously during sex, and then cuddling. You could be reading your favorite book, laying against his chest with one hand on your tit and the other scrolling through social media on his phone. Or the same scenario but you’re looking through TikTok and both his hands are wrapping on your tits, squeezing every so often. 
But you tried to keep from squeezing around him, to focus on grinding your hips against him. But your body was failing you as your climax was fast approaching and squeezed around him anyway. 
Jay moans into your shoulder, lifting you up from him and tossing you over onto the bed, now hovering over you, “Oh, sweet baby girl,” he cooed, eyes and face of a devil, but the voice of an angel, “I told you what would happen if you’d clenched that pretty pussy against me again.” 
You tried not to act so excited at what he would do, knowing damn well he was going to be rough with you, looking forward to it actually. 
“You always look so pretty underneath me,” he softly said, lifting your left leg up by your thigh and wrapping it around him, “always so good for me when I am on top of you,” and then wrapped your right leg around him, lining up his tip to your entrance, “I love seeing your face when I fuck you so hard and raw like this,” he pressed himself in, your cunt slowly stretching to fit his size, “Fuck, your cunt always feels so good.” 
One of his hands rested back on your tit, the other held a firm grip on your thigh as he fucked into you at a primal rate. Your jaw went slack at the feeling of him slamming against your g-spot, at his hips connecting to yours surely forming bruises that will be there in the morning. Your climax slowly built up again, your voice chanting out his name with each thrust he did. 
“That’s it, baby,” he gently kissed your brow, “moan out my name for me, sweet girl.” 
“JAY!” you screamed, your hands flying to his back, nails digging into his skin as he pushed himself harder into you, purposely trying to break the barrier of your cervix to fit himself even deeper, “fuck, Seongie!” 
His hands on your tit and thigh squeezed tighter, his thrust not getting sloppy, “Fuck, about to cum baby, cum with me? Fuck you better cum with me,” once again his tone was so dominant, so aggressive but speaking so soft and gentle. 
You clenched around him, your cum wrapping around his cock. Jay’s hand on your thigh flew to your other tit, using your tits as leverage to lift himself upright, squeezing them tightly as he pushed himself to keep rocking in and out of you, to push himself over the edge. 
“God your tits look so perfect in my hands,” he hisses, eyes staring at the plush that spilled between each of his fingers. He tucked his lip between his teeth, furrowing his brows and clenching his eyes shut as his final thrust sent his cum into you, painting your gummy walls white. 
Jay didn’t realize he was holding his breath until the last bit of his seed spilled into your leaking cunt, hands finally relaxing against your breasts. 
“You are so pretty so fucked out,” he cooed, slowly sliding his cock out of your pussy, “I am not even finished with you yet.” 
Jay’s brain went fuzzy at seeing his hand prints on your tits, wanting nothing more than to gently caress them, knowing your skin was probably stinging from his grip. 
You bit your lips watching as he slid down, taking one tit gently in his hand, while his lips attached to the other, his tongue softly rubbing over your sensitive nipple. His hand gently traced around the size of your tit, fingers grazing over the nipple and softly squeezing. 
“God, I love these.” 
Your hands went to his hair, watching as he took care of your breasts. 
The man was obsessed, and he didn’t care who knew it.
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— perm tlist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @kangnina @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @sparklovespink @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @psh9 @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity
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flowersandbigteeth · 1 year
Note
I’m obsessed with Levi, absolutely smitten. Thank you for sharing him with us.
If you feel up to it could we get a snippet of someone maybe a rival vampire trying to plant doubts in Levi about the reader. Maybe accusing them of cheating on him and using him, only for Levi to laugh in their face because he knows how devoted and loyal they are to each other.
Just like the opposite of the miscommunication trope. Please and thank you🥺👉👈
I'm so happy you like Levi ^_^ This is just a little thing, but I thought it turned out cute and it's nice to do something lighter after the last one omg :D
Vampire (Levi) x female mom reader
Word Count: 1k
W: sfw vampire fluff
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“Ugh,” Levi’s cousin Ivan and leader of his clan in Russia grimaced looking down at Meryl over his glass of blood, “don’t you have a nanny?” 
Levi nudged him away from the baby sleeping peacefully in the crib he’d put in his office so she could be nearby. He’d wanted to give you a spa day and he knew you weren’t yet comfortable with the nanny, so he happily offered to keep his favorite cinnamon roll with him.
He also wanted you out of the house when his cousin arrived. He didn’t like males seeing you and he knew how frivolous vampire’s could be. Their lives were long and got boring, rare jewels intrigued them, if only for a time. He’d sent you surrounded by a handful of Amazonian vampire bodyguards, so he felt confident no one would bother you. 
“(Y/N) and I have decided to keep her caretakers to a minimum,” he said, “she’s already been exposed to so many different germs and people, there’s no reason to add anymore.” 
Ivan snorted. 
“So she’s got you babysitting her brat?! Cousin, are you a fool?” 
Of course in his time, the idea of a vampire Clan lord carrying around an infant was preposterous, let alone one that was not his son, specifically. Many vampire mothers immediately gave their children to wet nurses so they wouldn’t look weak carrying a drooling baby around. 
Levi growled at his cousin, prompting him to lower his voice so as not to wake the baby. 
Ivan hissed lightly back, his eyes flashing. Vampire lords didn’t like being told what to do. 
“Who is this trollop anyway?” he snapped, though a bit quieter, “I’ve never seen you so wrapped around anyone’s finger.” 
Levi looked a little wistful. 
“Just an angel I came across in a fish store,” he murmured, his eyes resting fondly on Meryl. 
Ivan raised an eyebrow. 
“Fish…store…? And you’ve taken in her bastard? You’re babysitting it? Levi, I know losing Karen must have been hard but-”
Levi’s face hardened and his voice boomed. 
“Don’t say her name in my presence!” he snarled. 
Meryl cooed that she was waking up and started to whimper realizing she was alone. Levi looked distraught and hurried over to her, picking her up and bouncing her in his arm. 
“I’m sorry baby bat, did I wake you?” he cooed, and she gave him a gummy smile, doing her “daddy is picking me up” dance in his hand. 
Something about the happiness on Levi’s face when he looked at Meryl and how innocently she completely trusted him incensed Ivan. 
“This is absurd Levi. No one can be this happy! How do you know she doesn’t have some lover on the side and she’s just using you? Tugging a vampire lord on a leash?! She’s probably making another one of those things right now! Aren’t you concerned with how this makes the family look?!” 
Levi tipped Meryl’s head to his chest so she couldn’t see before he bared his fangs, transforming his face into a more animal version of itself as a warning. 
“Now you sound absurd, cousin,” he ground out, more offended that he’d say such a thing in front of his darling baby than taking it seriously, “(Y/N) is a devoted mother and wife. I won't listen to you slandering her in front of our child.”
Ivan snorted and crossed his leg with annoyance, spinning his blood around. 
“Goddess, modern romance is so disgusting,” he retorted, turning his face away from the tooth achingly sweet sight of Levi tossing Meryl in the air to make her giggle, “If it were me, I’d never see the thing.” 
“That’s why you’re a cold, lonely bastard,” Levi chuckled, “and I have a warm, beautiful family.” 
Ivan rolled his eyes. 
“Until she backstabs you like your mother,” he snapped. 
Levi growled more loudly. 
“I told you not to mention her,” he snapped, flipping Meryl over his shoulder by one foot so she wouldn’t see his anger and making her laugh out loud. 
“Ugggggh,” Ivan let out the longest groan ever at her pure joy as Levi pulled her back to his chest and found her one of the toys strewn on his desk to play with. 
“I’m back my loves!” you sighed as you walked into Levi’s office and breezed past the vampire sitting in one of Levi’s overstuffed chairs. You tossed your purse lazily on his desk, then tipped up on your toes and gave Levi a kiss, then smooched Meryl. 
“Feel my face,” you beamed, taking his hand and putting it on your freshly worked over skin, “they did some kind of laser thing to it! It’s super soft!” 
He grinned down at you, taking the opportunity to circle your cheek with his fingers. Maybe it was softer than normal, it always felt soft to him, but he was happy you wanted him to touch you. You'd been seeking out his touch more and more, each time delighting him more than the last.
A bit of a tug in the back of your mind reminded you the other vampire was still there and you glanced over your shoulder at him. 
“Oh, I’m sorry, did I interrupt something?” you asked, looking him over. He looked a bit like Levi, as well, but with wheat blonde hair cropped short and bright blue eyes. 
“Uh…this is my cousin, Ivan,” Levi said with as little enthusiasm as possible, “he’s in town for the wedding.”
He was eager to see you since you’d been gone all morning, but he still didn’t like males looking at you, disappointed your spa treatment ended early. For Ivan’s part his mouth dropped and his eyes grew big. He hopped up from the chair and crossed the room, looming over you. 
He took your hand and gave it a kiss, smiling down at you with the eyes of a predator behind baby blue irises almost flashing green with envy. 
“Levi told me many things about you and I thought he was exaggerating, but he wasn’t lying when he said you are truly lovely. Now I think I understand his fascination. I look forward to seeing more of you, my dear,” Ivan purred, “Levi loves to throw parties so I’m sure there will be plenty of occasions for us to get more acquainted.”
You blinked up at him and extracted your hand from his. 
“Er...good to meet you,” you said, wondering if it was a generational gap thing that made him sound so weird to you. Many of Levi's vampires had odd dialects hinting to their time of origin.
Levi bared his teeth and handed Meryl to you, practically shoving his cousin from the room. 
“I’ll see you later, cousin!” he growled, slamming the door behind him.
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softtdaisy · 10 months
Note
mick + "you slept like a baby. it was kind of cute."
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Pairing: Mick Schumacher x female!reader
Words: 811
A/n: here comes my baby Mick. I’m soooo happy to finally write for him, I hope I did him justice 🥺
First, you heard some game noises. The one from your boyfriend’s favorite video game.
Then you heard some complaints in German. Needless to say there was only man you know that could be saying them.
You open one eye, trying to adjust to the sun shining in the room, then the other. You were still sleepy and your glance was a little blurry. But it didn’t take you long to recognize and remember where you are. The TV showing the video game you just heard, the poster of an old f1 gp on the wall, one his father won obviously, the shelf with all the trophies and all Angie’s stuff in the corner of the room. Yeah, no doubt. You were at your boyfriend’s place.
Your head was on his lap so when you turned around, you saw his beautiful and serious face. You loved how his blue eyes seemed bigger when he focused on winning his game. Or he was biting his lips without even noticing it when it got harder. The sun was shining on his face and it was like a beautiful painting. Yes, Mick was definitely an angel, as if you needed confirmation;
His face softened suddenly and a smile appeared on his lips. “Good morning, Mein Liebling” he said with a low voice, knowing that you just woke up. One of his hands left the controller so he could brush your hair with so much tenderness. If you thought about sitting up, you clearly abandoned this idea. How could leave his lovely touch and body when it was the most comfortable and safest place you know.
“You shouldn't have let me sleep” you yawned, which made him laugh. “We were supposed to spend the day together.” You felt guilty about falling asleep. Not you meant to. Mick came back yesterday from a two weeks trip with Mercedes. As usual, you had been studying a lot while he was gone. It was the advantage of being alone: except for when Mick texted you or called you to make sure you were taking a break, you could work as much as you want. The only problem was that you sacrificed most of your nights to do that. So when you stopped, all the tiredness hit you. 
The music stopped playing. You turned your head slightly to see that Mick put the game on pause. And before you could ask anything, his second hand meet your face to make you face him again. Then it was his soft lips that met yours for a lovely and tender kiss. You felt his blond hair brushing your forehead. “You needed some sleep.” he spoke against your lips. “So I let you sleep.”
That was pure Mick. He always put the others first. Not that he considered letting you take a nap a sacrifice. Especially considering he was home for two weeks and he had planned many things with you. But if you told him that you wanted to travel with him during his break, he would cancel all his plans and go with you. He would do anything for you, from doing the craziest thing to watch you sleep peacefully.
Mick sat up straight and helped you cuddle against him. "Plus you slept like a baby.” He laughed, still brushing your hair. You hit him in the chest, which, of course, made him laugh even harder. “It was kind of cute!" 
“You watched me sleep, Schumi?”
“Do I have to remind you that you didn’t fall asleep on my lap?” you frowned. You didn’t? You questioned Mick with a confused look and he answered by shaking his head. “I promise you didn’t. You were lying next to me, reading your book. I took it away when I saw you sleeping. I don’t know if it’s the movement or if you just remembered that I was more comfortable than your favorite pillow, but you ended up here.” 
It wasn’t a surprise. Anytime you were sleeping together, either you or Mick would find its way to the other. Even when you didn’t feel asleep in each other’s arms, you would always wake up with Mick’s body pressed against yours, his arms around you and, sometimes, his lips on your hair like he wanted to give you some love even while asleep. Anytime it happened, you saw it as a reminder that Mick was your soulmate.
Now that you were well awake, you didn’t plan on spending the rest of your day doing nothing. So you took the controller on the bed and gave your boyfriend a challenging look. “I heard you had some troubles, wanna fight?”
“You heard?” he answered, confused, but still looking for the second controller beside the bed.
“Well, you watch me sleep, I listen to you playing. It was kind of cute!” you added, trying to sound like him.  
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honeybleed · 5 months
Text
bloom ⋆ reiner braun
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read part one here
content & warnings: female reader, she/her pronouns, canon-verse, post epilogue, bunch of random ocs, mentions of sa, canon-typical violence so if this is triggering please do not read, smut (unprotected sex, missionary) so mdni
author’s note: i wanted to write a continuation cos i liked the relationship i made in the first part. also i kinda moved out of canon saur. tags for my lovely angel moots who told me they enjoyed the first part 🥺🩷: @salaciousdoll @dancingwithdeities @icy-spicy
word count: 6.7k (i mean, they are reuniting after four years 🌝)
Your eyebrows furrowed together in concentration as you gripped onto the hoop and stabiliser, and began to stitch along, following the outline of the floral pattern on the edge of the dress.
The workshop inside the tailor store was always your favourite place to be in. The clothes on the mannequins and hangers were arranged haphazardly.
Compared to the other parts of the store, the workshop was small and quaint. Furniture within the space was mismatched, usually worn out furnishings were stored in the workshop rather than being thrown out.
As much as you enjoyed coming in your free time, it was a slight pain to have to wade your way through the jam packed room.
“Knew you’d be in here.” The voice dragging you out of your focus on the blue dress.
Whilst you were an apprentice who slowly made your way in the ranks of the store, Martin was a seamster.
He had always been welcoming to you since the both of you were Marleyan captives who relocated.
“What’s up?” You smiled.
“Usually people use their breaks to leave the place of employment.”
“You know as much as I do that there’s not exactly much to get up to.” You snickered as you began to tidy up the strewn about sewing supplies across the large table.
“There seems to be a bit of a commotion outside, wanna take a look?” He asked.
“There’s always commotion.” You tutted. “But it’s kinda funny, so I’ll take you up on that offer.”
And there it was, a bunch of Yeagerists kicking up a fuss as usual. They were more furious at the fact that there was a success in the peace talks with the outside world.
They were adamant in their belief the rest of the world should’ve been destroyed. At first, they did scare you. But they were practically defunct at the demise of their beloved leader.
They tailed after a carriage, and were being pushed back by dozens of bodyguards and soldiers that unmistakably belonged to the Royal Government.
The door of the carriage was opened, and a woman of short stature exited. You bit your tongue slightly as your eyes raked over the distinguished design of the carriage.
Gleaming golden accents, pristine as the sun glimmered on the wheels. As the door was slightly ajar, you didn’t miss the plush, red upholstery.
You were busy glaring at the blatant display of status and privilege. Too absorbed in your thoughts to realise the carriage had stopped on the pathway of the tailors.
“Is she…approaching us?!” He hissed in your ear, shaking your shoulders.
“She is…?” You questioned, narrowing your eyes.
It was true, the store had a lot of nobility as clientele, but royalty visiting was completely unheard of.
And the master tailor seemed to share the same sentiment because you almost had the wind knocked out of you when you felt her yank you backwards so she could get a better close up of her.
“Your Highness…I am in shock? What brings you here? I would’ve made a reservation and closed the store completely if I knew you were coming..!” She blabbered.
You simply arched an eyebrow as you met Martin’s eyes.
Whilst Andrea was a fairly decent boss and a master at her craft, her worship of anybody who came from higher rankings of hierarchy was frankly nauseating to witness.
“You’re right, but I sent my aides to this store a few times and didn’t get a response.”
“Somebody was getting fired today.” You thought to yourself as Andrea slowly craned her neck, reminiscent of an owl as she gave you and Martin a death glare.
But neither of you worked at the reception so you pulled a face as Martin put his hands up, defensively.
“I’d like to know who made this…” Historia said with a beam, as her slender hands presented an apron with butterfly embroidery.
You swore for a split moment there was an anchor weighing heavily in your stomach. It was your work.
Remembering one of the maids who worked at the palace had come by, and asked you to do the same butterfly embroidery you had done on her daughter’s.
Soon enough, it’d become a thing where regular people asked you to either do floral or butterfly embroidery on their clothes.
Shaking your head to recompose yourself after the slight shock, you took a step forward.
“It’s my design.” You said a little bluntly, causing a few people to gasp.
“Are you a professional?” She asked, undeterred by the hostility in your tone.
“No, I’m still an apprentice.” You responded.
“I’d really appreciate it if you could do some embroidery for me.” She smiled. “Your designs are lovely. You’d be compensated, of course.”
“She’d LOVE to!” Andrea swooped in, as she put an arm around you. “I always knew she was talented. That’s why I hired her, of course!”
You grimaced at Andrea’s disingenuous praise of you. But you nodded and agreed regardless. The one condition being Martin could come with you.
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Soon enough, you found yourself becoming closer and closer to Historia.
You and Martin were asked to come to the palace to help craft a gown for her for a ball to celebrate the success of the peace talks.
At first, when you and the designers were brought to her chambers, you were constantly berated to not even speak to her.
It gave you flashbacks to when you were brought to Marley against your will. You never understood hierarchy.
That’s probably what caused the slight resentment when Historia arrived at the tailors. You vividly remember how scarce food and other necessities were after the rebuilding of civilization after the Rumbling.
Yet here the Queen was arriving in a carriage that probably cost millions, and plucking you away from your job like it was nothing.
Regardless, you held back all snide remarks and did what you were told.
Which was to tailor a gown worthy of royalty for the ball.
When her entourage finally left the chambers when she asked them to, the first thing she did was ask if you were the same age as her.
You were both twenty-two years of age, her being a few months older than you. She always asked you questions about you.
At first, you didn't understand why.
You were nobody compared to her. You were sure if you told her that you were an escort in Marley she would've turned her nose up at you and probably would've asked you to be let go.
"I had gotten used to Our Lady’s crestfallen nature." One of her maids said as a passing comment to you after an evening of you working on the dress. "But she seems to light up around you."
"Why would she be happy around me..?" You questioned, genuinely bewildered. All your interactions had been mainly small talk.
"Ever since she became Queen, I suppose she misses having age mates around her. I only ever saw her smile like that when the members of the Survey Corps came by." 
You figure Historia needed maids that didn't blab her business. The next time you were with her face to face, you engaged in her trivial small talk.
After the confession from her maid, you let your walls down. 
"You can talk about yourself, you know." You said, as you sat on a stool, pins in your mouth as you fixed the dress slightly.
"That's all anybody does around here. It's tiring." She scoffed.
"Good or bad?" You questioned.
"Eh...good to my face, bad behind my back."
"What the hell would anybody even say about you..?" You enquired, as you pulled a face. Historia from your personal view was rather timid and docile.
She let out a sigh as she stepped away and sat on the leather ottoman.
"About my child. The circumstances that led to the baby." Her eyes flickered, she seemed as if she was about to stop herself but she didn't. "It's my duty, I suppose. But I feel as if I'm not even a queen. I'm merely a puppet."
"What makes you say that..?"
"I'm instructed to do things. A lot of the decisions I supposedly make aren't even mine to begin with."
You figure it was a tough situation for her. As it'd be for anybody. To wear gowns and a crown seems so simple on the outside, however, to be the face of decisions that choose the fate of a population isn't exactly a walk in the park.
Especially with the unrest of the Yeagerists.
Her voice was shaky. And you were sure you could see her balling up a fist. You were similar in that aspect, that was a method you always used to stop yourself from crying, especially during your first days at the brothel.
You don't know much about her. So you were afraid if you sat beside her and held her close, it'd be overstepping. Instead, you told her you were done for the day regarding her gown, and that you'd see her next time.
The following weeks to the ball, your tone had become a lot more syrupy when talking to her.
You told her light-hearted stories from the brothel, which made her laugh. You could tell she was worried and shocked when you first told her of your profession back then, but you assured her it was fine.
In exchange, she told you anecdotes of her time in the Survey Corps and Training Corps. It was the happiest time in her life despite the circumstances of it all.
There she had experienced genuine friendship. She seemed a little melancholic recalling how things were no longer the same with her beloved friends after she became Queen.
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"I want you to join me. As my guest." She said.
Your eyes widened.
"Huh..?"
"If you want to, of course!" She said, placing a hand on your shoulder. "And...Y/N. I really want you to wear...this."
She flipped through your scrapbook and her dainty finger traced over the design. It was a fishtail gown. You'd pinned a scrap of satin to the page.
"It'd look so pretty with your skin tone.." She said, softly as she met your eyes. You swallowed thickly.
The busybody maid was right. Those cerulean eyes of Historia's were often blank. But they seemed to glimmer and dance when she spoke to you.
As if for a moment, she wasn't weighed by the burden of the crown.
As if you were merely two best friends playing dress up.
You slammed the scrapbook shut and backed away from her as if you were burnt.
"I...I'm sorry. I don't think it'd be a good idea." You stuttered, feeling the tips of your ears heat up.
"What's wrong Y/N..?" Historia questioned. "Did I offend you? I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"No! No. You didn't offend me." You said, sheepishly. You squinted your eyes shut as you turned away from her. God, you must've looked like a bumbling fool right now.
"I do want you to come. You were an integral part of these peace talks. I...I know I said that I barely get a say in the decisions made...but when I hear tales from people like you...our fellow Eldians who were taken away and forced to be in Marley, I want to create a better future."
Don't. Don't. Don't.
"Historia...I really would've thought as a Queen...you'd stop being so naive." You said, voice venomous.
"...Huh?"
"Whether I'm there or here, I'm still garbage either way."
"Y/N, don't say that!" Historia pleaded, eyes watering. "Don't talk about yourself like that! You're nothing like that. You're funny...and you're smart...and you're the only person in this palace that treats me like a person..."
Your teeth sank into your bottom lip. She was probably the closest thing you'd had to a friend since you moved.
But how could you not feel this way? When every single time you were sent to work on tailoring dress you were barked at and berated by her countless staff?
You fled the palace after you finished making adjustments to the dress. This is why.
This is why your guard was up in the first place. Feelings like that were icky to you. Because they make you feel like you're not in control of the situation.
You heard your name being called just as you reached the grand doorways of the palace, and turned to see one of her maids. It wasn't the one with loose lips.
She handed you an envelope, and you took it gingerly as if it was poisonous. Your hand trembled as you saw a small note clipped to the envelope.
'If you change your mind.'
It was undoubtedly her handwriting.
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Historia's dress was delivered.
There was a small part of you that wanted to be present when she tried on the final product. Your heart hammered when you remembered the way she would gush over the work you showed her.
Your reaction to her telling you to wear the dress from your scrapbook was odd because you had already finished the extravagant gown.
But despite it being your creation, it never felt that it should be yours. You designed it with women like her in your mind. The elite women.
Hunching over as you clutched your head, all you could do was sigh.
It was worse that Historia had revealed one of the friends she made in the Training Corps was Reiner of all people.
Along with Reiner's victories back when he met you, one of his biggest feats was when he and others infiltrated the "Island of Devils", even if the mission had fallen flat.
"I'm not oblivious." She giggled. "Every guy in there was head over heels for me. But I didn't feel the same way."
Reiner.
Things ended so sourly. But even after all these years, he was the only person who had your heart.
It was true, you were overwhelmed with his turmoil. And if you weren't a street urchin who kept your wits about you for survival, you might've taken up that offer to run away with him.
But where would you have even gone? If he deserted his post, you both would've been strung up and slaughtered.
Sex made you sick. Sex repulsed you.
When you closed your eyes, you still had images of when the drunk Marleyan soldiers leered at you and treated you like disposable trash.
The rancid smell of beer, the way their hands grabbed and forced you down.
Using you to get off. Sometimes they got violent for no apparent reason. In the beginning, during your first days, you were too scared to fight back.
That is, until one day one of them gave you a black eye and the Madam of the brothel saw it. She took him behind the tavern with a shotgun and the next thing you know, his brain was splattered across the windows.
She then began to teach you some self-defense and comforted you. You might've resented her, she was the embodiment of the force that kept you there.
However, you were forever grateful.
Then came along Reiner.
A broken man, like all the others. But he took his turmoil and lashed out at himself constantly.
"I don't want...to be like them." It echoed in your mind.
Tears begin to prickle at your waterline as you held onto a piece of fabric, absentmindedly.
"I wish I told you that you would never be like them."
Now, it was not as if you didn't see Reiner. He and the others had made a large spectacle during the Rumbling, and honestly, when you saw his Titan form, the blood drained out of your face and you nearly lost your balance.
But the possibility of being face-to-face with him at that ball was making you lose your sanity.
What was there even to say?
Or maybe Reiner moved on and settled down.
You were sure seeing him with another would've shattered your heart.
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"Historia...?" You called out. She whipped her head around to turn to face you. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her make-up had slightly streaked down her cheeks.
"Y/N!" She gasped. "I thought you wouldn't come, oh I'm so happy!"
She threw her arms around you, drawing you close for a hug.
"What's the matter..?" You asked, as you absentmindedly cupped the side of her face.
"Nothing! I promise." She said, with a shaky laugh.
"C'mon. Don't lie to me." You said, blinking a few times. "Hope you weren't that torn up over me bailing."
"Oh please, don't flatter yourself." She giggled as she released you from her grip.
Reiner felt bile scratch at the sides of his throat as his eyes were transfixed on the current scene unwinding in front of him on the balcony.
How the hell did you know Historia? And why were you two in an embrace like that? 
He muttered a bunch of apologies and "excuse me's" when he pushed past people in an attempt to run off from the scene.
Jean's eyebrows furrowed when he noticed Reiner taking off in a hurry.
"Oi..! Reiner..!" He called out as he chased after him.
"I just..." Historia was unsure how to begin as she looked out the balcony, gazing out at buildings within the walls. "I guess talking about the Survey Corps with you. It reminded me of my first love."
"Who...your husband..?"
"No...I feel like a witch for even saying this. But it was always something of convenience with him. I've never truly loved somebody the way I loved Ymir." She said with a sigh.
"Oh.." You responded. "What...happened to her? You told me all that stuff about her but-"
"Marley took her." Historia said, quaking with rage.
It was clear she didn't want to divulge what happened, but it was obvious if Marley had taken her, she had met a grisly end.
"Throwing this stupid ball. Celebrate peace talks but the damage has already been done." She said, through gritted teeth. "But I'm supposed to go up there and pretend like everything is splendid. Y/N...maybe I'm selfish but I'm just tired."
"Historia...you're not selfish." You said.
"I'm complaining about royal duties...to somebody who was forced into a brothel."
"It's not a competition." You snorted. "We've both had it hard. You're right, you are in a position of privilege. But that doesn't diminish the pain and suffering you've been put through while wearing that godforsaken crown."
You preferred to keep it neat and short. It was merely an assumption, but you figured Historia having to give birth as well as marry a man she didn't love broke her spirit.
"Y/N...thank you." She sniffled.
"C'mon.." You said, taking her hand. "Let's go touch up your make-up."
"You damn blockhead! Wait up!" Jean huffed, as Reiner rushed through the maze-like gardens of the palace.
He finally caught up with Reiner, grabbing his shoulder and forcing him to turn to face him which angered Reiner even more.
"What...?!" Reiner bellowed, seething as he almost lunged at Jean ready to tear his head off.
"What did you see that was so terrible you had to take off running with your tail between your legs?!" Jean barked at him, as he grabbed Reiner by his shirt collar.
"I saw her!" Reiner cried out voice cracking as he shoved Jean off of him.
It took Jean a moment. But the realisation sunk in and he immediately released his grip from Reiner as his eyebrows knitted together in shock.
"The girl from the brothel?" Jean spoke, with an incredulous look.
Reiner had gotten a glimpse of you during the Rumbling. Beside his mother, but he remembered how much he'd hurt you so he had left you alone.
But when he saw you make your way through the ballroom, he almost did a spit take. It had to be destiny. 
He let you go twice. He couldn't let you go a third time.
There was a multitude of reasons why Reiner had joined the others in the crusade against Eren, however, he figured you contributed to the sequence of events that made his decision change.
You urged him.
"Free yourself. From being a pawn. That's what you can do for me. Do that and I'll forgive you."
Your final words to him, it had been four years now. But they still rang in his head every so often. It was obvious what you were alluding to.
He was a pawn to Marley.
But even after he and the others defeated Eren, he didn't feel free. Just constantly tormented by his sins. 
And though Reiner regretted every life he took and ruined, the memory of the way you winced when he spat those venomous words at you was the one that made him want to tear himself apart, limb from limb.
He pulled a grim face as he nodded.
"So why'd you run off..?"
"She...was with Historia...they looked like they were lovers or something.." He said, as he hung his head low.
Jean scoffed and shook his head.
"Doubt it. Don't you know women are touchy-feely with each other? You're so damn hopeless." Jean said as he folded his arms.
"Watch it." Reiner warned. "But are you sure?"
"She's married, Reiner. And let's say she was cheating with your little crush, I doubt they'd do it somewhere as obvious."
Reiner let out a sigh.
"Just go and talk to her, god damn it." Jean said as he shoved Reiner.
"You ever think of starting an advice bureau, Horsey?"
"Call me that and I'll kick your ass again."
"Dunno. I kinda just let you that one time." Reiner snickered.
"Just go get her." Jean hissed as he kneed Reiner's thigh.
"Jeez! I'm goin'!" Reiner whined as he rubbed the back of his thigh.
"This dress really is beautiful." Historia said after the two of you exited the bathroom, as she smoothed a hand over the skirts.
"Flatterer." You scoffed. "And I'm not complimenting you back."
"Wouldn't dream of it. I guess that's what made me so fond of you." Historia said with a smile.
You frowned as you saw the smile on her face wipe away almost immediately, then you craned your head to look at who she was staring at.
The three of you must've looked ridiculous to a bystander. Reiner gawking at the both of you, you trembling slightly at Reiner and Historia staring at him eyes wide like saucers.
"Ah! There you are!" A voice called out, as you glanced at a man who towered over the three of you with a sandy brown mullet. "They're waiting for you, my lady!"
He grinned as he linked arms with Historia to pull her away, then shot Reiner a "you owe me" look.
"But...Jean..!" Historia protested, but soon enough the two of them were gone.
"Can I take you somewhere?" Reiner finally spoke, after minutes of unbearable silence.
"Depends. Where do you have in mind?" You replied, voice teasing as you arched a brow. But your hands were clammy with sweat as you gripped the dress for dear life.
And Reiner could cry.
He'd fallen for your scent. Odd, but it was one of the most distinctive things about you. Secondly, was the way you made him sweat a little.
"Not too far. Just outside."
"Lead the way, Marley's Shield." You giggled.
"I told you I hate that nickname." He chuckled as he held open the door for you.
"I know." You responded with a smirk.
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Heading away from the celebrations, back into the garden he had rushed to off earlier, you and Reiner took a seat on the stone ledge of the grand ornamental fountain.
You could still hear the crowds within the palace with the music and cheering but it being muffled made you and Reiner chuckle.
Both of you were unsure of what to say.
Reiner would never repeat the sore mistake of blurting out what came to mind.
The sound of the water delicately trickling down the tiers was soothing to both of you. Reiner who had spent almost the entirety of his life on the battlefield.
You who always had unwelcome touch roaming your body.
“Sometimes I think it’s limbo.” You said, since you had an inkling Reiner was still entirely ashamed of your last conversation.
“How so?” He responded as he nervously wrung his hands.
“It can’t be a dream. Dreams are nice.” You scoffed. “Limbo is nothingness.”
“What would make it a dream…?” He asked softly. 
You swallowed. His gentle voice was what you always remembered over the separation.
He was always curious to know about you. Before you fell apart so horrendously he spiralled into a wallowing energy vampire.
“To be happy. Not have a care in the world. I meet so many customers and their only worry is these damn clothes. I sound bitter, huh?”
“No…you don’t. You’ve been through a lot, Y/N. You’re not asking for much.”
“I am.” You said with a bitter laugh.
“Happiness is not asking for a lot.” He said, voice turning firm.
A mere sentence made your throat crawl. Wanting nothing more than to burst into tears like a child. But you held it in. You were good at that.
Crybabies didn’t veer far into the underground world you’d come from.
“Did you…speak to your mother?” You finally said.
Your verdict on his constant tirades. The stab at the jugular that ultimately destroyed you and Reiner. 
He nodded.
“She said sorry.”
Sorry for a multitude of things. Sorry for poisoning my child’s brain. Sorry for making him turn into a war machine for the sole purpose of how I hated myself.
“Did you accept it?”
“Of course I did.” He sighed as his eyes fixated on the paving of the courtyard. “I thought it was all I wanted. Maybe it’d stop everything in my head. But the damage has already been done. Her apology is useless.”
“An apology wouldn’t erase the pain and hurt in your heart, Reiner.” You said.
“It sounds like I’m complaining.” He snorted. “She said sorry. I accepted. I really am a wallowing asshole, aren’t I?”
“A little.” You giggled which caused him to throw his head back with laughter. “But…you have reason to be.”
"Things...changed. For the better." He decided to settle on.
"I'm proud of you, Reiner." You said, firmly as you reached a hand to settle on his shoulder.
"How is it possible?" He said.
"Hm?"
"You've managed to become more gorgeous since the years passed."
"I could say the same for you, Mister." You said, beaming. "I didn't think you could get more handsome over time, yet you've proved me wrong."
Is that all there is..? Physical attraction?
No, you know there's something more to this.
It can't be just that. How can it solely be lust, when this was the man who held onto you and sobbed? And you knew for a fact you were one of the few people he showed that vulnerable side to.
"You called me delusional all those years ago..for wanting you run away with me." He chuckled shaking his head, not meeting your eyes.
"I did. But to be fair, you did sound a bit unhinged."
"Can't deny that." He snorted. "Do you still work there..?"
You shook your head.
"No...um. After the rumbling, I guess the ambassadors tried to advocate for some of the people Marley brought here. I work at a tailor's now."
"Oh." He said, a little surprised. "Do you like it there?"
"Yeah. It's nice to be seen in daylight."
A silence fell over the two of you once again, as the only noise was the distant ongoings of the ball and the gentle rustling of the leaves.
"I wasn't gonna come tonight." You said as you faced outwards.
"Why not..?"
"I didn't wanna see you."
"Ouch." Reiner replied with an uneasy laugh.
"I thought you may have been married by now. Since you and the rest of them are all heroes."
"You think women would be throwing themselves at me afterwards?" He chuckled.
"Maybe.." You grinned. "Are you denying that..?"
Reiner chuckled as he awkwardly rubbed the nape of his neck.
"I won't lie. I have had a few admirers..." He said with a sheepish smile.
"Oooh! And why didn't you bring any of them as a date tonight, mhm?" You grinned.
"I'm a bit disappointed that you're this enthusiastic over the prospect of me with another woman." Reiner snorted.
"I just want you to be happy. That's all I ever wanted, even if I was a bitch about it."
"Y/N, don't say that." Reiner said, the smile on his face fading almost immediately. "I wasn't good to you."
"It's not like you owed a dumb broad from a whore house anything."
He grimaced at you echoing his words from all those years ago.
"Ah...you still remember that. Word for word..?" He questioned, meekly.
"Kinda hard to forget." You replied in a wry tone. "Plus I guess one of my flaws is holding grudges."
"You didn't let me take it back." He sighed. "I'd do anything, even the most inhumane, medieval torture methods if it meant you'd forgive me."
"Reiner.." You chuckled. "Overkill."
"I suppose so. But you make me crazy, Y/N. Even if I didn't see you tonight, I'd probably be thinking about you til the day I died."
"Kiss ass." You muttered under your breath. "I missed you, big guy. Your self-flagellating ways captured my heart."
"I don't know if I should be offended by that-"
"Shut up and kiss me." You cut him off.
You didn't need to tell him twice, and he immediately pulled you close against him to meet your lips, gently.
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“Would anybody notice you’ve slipped out?” You asked quietly as the two of you made your way into the inn.
“I really couldn't give a damn if they did.” He said gleefully as he suddenly threw you up in the air without warning to catch and carry you bridal style.
“Reiner!” You squealed in delight.
“You say you’re in limbo, I’d say I’m in a dream.” He said as he laid you onto the sheets. “I can’t say Heaven. I know for certain I won’t be allowed there.”
You immediately thumped his chest with a balled up fist.
“Don’t say that!” You hissed as he sat on the edge of the bed, facing away.
“C’mon Y/N. Let’s be serious.”
You pinched your nose bridge and let out an irritated sigh.
“Can we not talk about this?”
“You’re right, you’re right. Sorry.” He sighed as he rested his arms on his knees.
“…Hey.” You said softly.
“Mhm?”
His body immediately froze when you sat up from where he laid you down as you crushed your lips against his, your slender and manicured hand cupping his sharp jaw.
He felt as if his body was on fire as he relaxed into the kiss. Countless dreams of when he would ever feel those plump and soft lips of yours again.
Eyes rolling to the back of his head as his large hands pulled you onto his lap.
“Rei!-” You squeaked in surprise.
Regardless, you wrapped your legs around his waist, and revelled in the feeling of his warm and broad chest flush against yours. 
The sensation of your lips moving against his caused Reiner to let a low groan escape, his entire chest reverberating.
You pulled away to catch your breath, your fingers toying with the buttons of his shirt.
“Enjoying yourself?” You giggled at the dishevelled look on his face from one kiss.
He nodded.
“Very much so.”
You noted there was some confidence lurking and it made a smile tug at your lips. He was always so worried about hurting you or doing something wrong during intimacy.
The lamp on the bedside table illuminated his handsome, strong features as you clambered off of him.
“This dress. I want nothing more than to just tear it to shreds.” You said frustratedly as you stood up.
It was a little ridiculous to kiss him or even just lay on the bed with the gown with multiple layers of the skirt.
“Then allow me to do the honors.” He said with a mischievous glint in his eye as in a burst of adrenaline, Reiner tore apart the underskirts.
You yelped out as his hands clenched the petticoats' edges, shredding them. Tulle flying everywhere.
“Now why’d you do that for?!” You gasped as you were left in the top half of the gown. “I made that!”
“You can always make another one.” He chuckled as his eyes raked over you.
He leant back, his shirt unbuttoned to his navel where you could see slivers of his muscular definition.
Reiner without a doubt was obviously a hulking figure but there was just something special to be in such an intimate setting, seeing him like this.
Not being bought either.
You were here on your own volition and it felt liberating.
“There’s still a lot of layers.” He remarked and you felt the tips of your ears heat up. You knew that you must’ve looked ridiculous with the stockings and drawers of all things.
“Gah!” You cried out, covering your face. “Just take them off!”
He got up from the edge of the bed and knelt to his knees on the wooden planks of the floor.
“Reminds you of old times, huh?” He chuckled as his weathered and calloused hands peeled away the cotton.
“Yeah.” You giggled. “Not in a sexy way.”
“Let me change that, yeah?” He said in a hushed tone as he grasped your hips.
Your skin was flush from the excitement and anticipation. Feeling a heat pool in your gut as his lips pressed your hip bone and underneath your navel.
“…Reiner.” You shuddered.
“Shhh, shh. I got you.” He smiled as he looked up at you. “We’ll get all these pesky clothes off soon.”
You snorted, struggling to believe this was the same Reiner who had mini panic attacks over the premise of having sex with you.
“What’s so funny, mhm?” He murmured.
“Just…things changed like you said earlier.”
“I’m a man to my core, Y/N.” He said as he shed the last piece of garments off, then laid you back down on the bed again.
Now free from the oppressive quicksand of the ballgown you were drowning in earlier.
“You’re the woman of my dreams.” He continued in a low murmur as he hovered above you, caging you with his body. “Whether that’s the usual happy moments on our own greenland. On a farm…I have other thoughts too, Y/N.”
This is the most he’s talked.
“Will I scare you away? Would you be disappointed with me, Y/N?” He said as he stared so intently into your eyes, your lips barely inches apart. “Would you think I became like those depraved soldiers I swore to never become…if I told you the lewd thoughts I had about you..?”
Your interest was piqued. You shook your head as you reached a hand to stroke the nape of his neck.
“Tell me, Reiner.” You whispered.
The only sound in the room was your heavy breathing along with Reiner’s as he took in your features. You saw his Adam’s apple bob slightly.
“Your soft skin…it feels so heavenly..” He murmured. “The plump flesh of your thighs…your curves. Your entire body…” He spoke as his heart pounded. “I need you. I need to touch every inch of you. I need to taste you.”
You were caught off guard at the statement. Not to mention Reiner’s expression. The lust and desire for you was coursing through his veins.
“…Make me yours.” You whispered.
And that was all he needed to hear before he pressed his body against yours and your lips met once again. He was kissing furiously, pushing you further and further, almost deep into the mattress.
His warmth, his weight and his aroma flooded your senses.
Your hands began to roam down his back, but you quickly began to undo his belt buckle like a madwoman, and tugged off his pants and underwear.
He was so enthralled by you, he hadn’t even given you a chance to undress him properly.
You slipped your tongue to explore his mouth.
“Reiner…” You sighed, chest heaving.
He was losing his mind in the lust filled fog. Your voice was so sexy, so erotic to him. When his name falls from your lips, he swears it makes his cock twitch.
He will hold back for now. He wants to get reacquainted to the temple of your body he swore to all these years ago.
Hands start off by cupping your cheeks as he continues to hungrily licks the inside of your mouth. You feel powerless in a way. It was always you in control during those nights.
But he’s a new man.
They’re almost everywhere and you’re losing yourself. You can’t keep track of the way his hands are grasping every surface of you as he sucks harshly on the column of your throat and the side of your neck.
You’ve been reduced to putty as Reiner relentlessly takes your body.
“Reiner…I can’t…” You whimper pathetically as your hand holds onto the railing of the headboard.
“Hm?” He says as his warm breath tickles the shell of your ear, and he kicks it up further as the tip of his tongue darts inside of your ear. 
It makes you writhe underneath him.
“I’ll never hurt you again. I’ll make you so happy, baby. I promise.” He mumbles as he thrusted in and out of you.
Your nails dug into his back, clawing downwards as you tried to anchor yourself during his relentless pace. He hissed and gasped as he felt blood draw but he choked out a lusty groan.
“Are you tryna…get back at me?” He stuttered with a smile as his jaw clenched.
“Maybe.” You snorted but was reduced to stammers and whining as his lips trailed down further from your collarbone to your chest as he bit down on your breast slightly.
“Reiner…!” You whined.
You buried your face into the crook of his neck as his thrusts became sloppier.
“That’s it…” You mumbled as you smoothed down his blonde tresses, stroking the back of his head. “I missed you too…so much.”
“You…did?” He gasped out, feeling his high approach him.
“Reiner…” You choked out. “Telling you to leave…” You winced a little. “Was the hardest thing I’d done..”
“Y/N..” He whimpered as you felt the warmness gush inside of you. You knew it was wrong but to be frank at this point in time you could care less.
As his warm seed gushed inside of your womb, your back arched into Reiner’s chest, mewling almost.
Reality sunk in when Reiner peeled his sweaty body off of you.
“God, Y/N…! I wasn’t thinking! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby I just-” He ranted as he tugged the roots of his hair frantically.
“Shhh…” You put a finger on his lips and gave him a lazy grin. “I wanted this.”
His eyes widened at your statement.
“Huh..?!”
“I don’t care. I wanted it.” You snorted. “There’s an old trick…you just screw somebody on your least fertile day.”
“You’re annoying.” He snorted as he sat up, then brushed the dishevelled hair from face.
He headed over to the small bathroom and began to wash you with a clean washcloth.
Soon enough, you wrapped your arms around his waist as you lay your head on his chest as you began to drift off to sleep.
He brushed his fingers across your cheek, you were so pretty to him fast asleep. Your lashes and lips were his favorite features of yours.
Reiner’s head swirled with constant persuasions to keep you around. He had to figure something out by morning.
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"And...being face to face with you after all these years, Y/N, please. I'd be a madman to let you slip from my grasp again."
"We...we can start again, Reiner." You smiled.
As you two stood before each other, there was a fragile hope, reminiscent of delicate petals emerging from a long dormant stem.
Reiner could never move past your brown eyes. It was difficult to miss the memories of past hurt, that he vowed to make up for as long as he lived.
Your love once scarred began to heal, just as a blossom mends after a storm, and together you would embrace the promise of a new beginning, nurturing your love like a garden in full bloom.
author’s note: nawww i lowkey hate this but whatever 😭 reiner suffers enough BUT WHY IS WRITING SMUT THEEEEE WORSTTTTTTT OMFGGGGGGG anyways ty if u reached this far all luv❤️ reblog plzzzzz it’d make my day. also if there’s any grammatical or spelling mistakes sawry im publishin dis at 4am ☹️
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kittievampire · 11 months
Note
I came because I was in love with your obey me yandere smut! So...can I have something similar to "Mine" but with Simeon 🥺🥺🥺? Please!
Please ignore me if you’re not comfortable with this request.
Honestly, anon, it's sinful that'd you'd request such a thing of me! I couldn't possibly write something like that for Simeon! I'll have you know that he is a man of God, an ANGEL and if you think okay the people who think Simeon shouldn't be depicted this way are gone now, lemme see what I have in my bag, my dear~
Click here if you wanna request!
Cleansed
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Warnings: Dark themes, Cursing, Blood, Violence, Yandere! Simeon x Fem! MC, Virgin! MC, Smut, Teasing, Baby-Trapping, Murder, Manipulation, Obsession, Guilt-Tripping, Somnophilia (MC gets put to sleep), Most likely an incorrect quote from the bible, Fingering, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Non-Con/Rape to Dub-Con
🚨READ THE WARNINGS CAREFULLY AND PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANY TAGS🚨
Enjoy.
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Simeon never knew that he could feel this way about someone.
What he felt exactly, he couldn't say. He couldn't put a finger on it— couldn't put it into words if asked. If he had to describe it, he'd probably say it was something that made him feel like his heart would leap out of his chest with its intense and rapid beating, something that made him want to be close to you, something that made him want to follow you to the ends of the Devildom and back (which may have been literal on some explorative occasions).
Either way, there was one thing this angel knew for a fact.
He had to have you.
This sense of possessiveness started out small. He would follow you around all day, walk you home most nights, and wonder what you were up to when he wasn't by your side. It was always so curious to him how a little human such as yourself suddenly became a being he held of higher regard and importance than Michael, though he'd never tell his higher-up such information.
However, it didn't take long for this obsession to grow.
Simeon was convinced that this was his Father's plan. That he was meant to feel this way about you, that you were meant to be his. Every night, he'd find himself praying, not only for your well-being and fortune, but also for a romantic relationship to blossom from your friendship.
It was the word of the Father, of course.
What God has joined together, let no man seperate. We must guard our union, so that the outside world cannot seperate it.
He has to protect you, no matter what. Especially from the vile lower demons that want a piece of you. Simeon wouldn't dare even think of harming one of the brothers, they were his brothers once, too; Nor did he believe that any of your friends should be hurt. But those that you were uncomfortable with? Those that you didn't know on a personal level? Those that wanted you? Their vary existence was sinful.
They must be cleansed.
_
"Simeon, what is this?"
Your voice was so sweet. It made him feel weak in the knees. Though, he couldn't afford to lose his composure now. Not when he'd finally mustered up the courage to ask you out on a date.
Well, it was a date you were unaware of. But he put his everything into it! You might as well think of it as such out of appreciation!
The angel smiled, motioning toward the empty seat in front of him. He'd managed to convince the owner of this restaurant to place a table on the second-floor balcony. He wanted to be able to see how the moonlight made your features glow.
Simeon had told you to dress formally for this dinner, but you didn't expect the setting to be this fancy! To say you were excited was an understatement.
You sat down in front of him, clasping your hands together as you tried to process your surroundings. "Wow, Simeon, this is truly amazing... I can't thank you enough, but I am curious about the occasion," You ask softly, a small blush forning on your face.
The angel chuckled softly, lifting one of his hands to gently caress the petal on one of the roses that the vase in the middle of the table held. "One as divine as yourself must be treated to such things, wouldn't you agree?" His voice sounded so sweet to your ears, reminding you of the vanilla sweets he and Luke would bake for you.
"Hi, welcome to... MC?"
You snapped your head to the side, looking up at the waiter approaching your table. Your face paled as you recognized the familiar demon standing before you. It was an incubus that had hit on you recently, the only one you didn't tell Simeon about. "Toran?" You murmured softly, earning a nod from the waiter. "Where have you been? Why haven't you responded to any of my texts, huh? You too good for me or somethin'?" The demon before you suddenly became more aggressive than you felt comfortable dealing with. Simeon could sense your growing discomfort and stood, approaching the waiter. "Excuse me, I don't believe this is appropriate conduct for someone in your position, may I request we get another waiter?" He asked, earning a scoff from the demon whose name he couldn't bother to remember. "Hey, I'm not talking to you, yeah? Why don't you-" "Toran!" You shouted, catching the attention of both of the gentlemen before you. "I... I gave you the wrong number, I'll give it to you. Please, just leave us alone, yes?"
Simeon's face contorted into that of a disgusted look, one that you didn't see.
Why the hell were you even entertaining the idea of giving your information to this asshole? You were supposed to be with him, not this foul demonic garbage. "That won't be necessary, MC," Simeon said with a warm smile, the demon turning to face him. "What the hell do you-" "I'd like to request a change in waiters, please. I don't think you'd want your higher-ups to know about this, so I suggest you do everything you can to make things right!"
He truly was angelic, wasn't he?
You couldn't help but smile a bit, feeling your heart thump against your chest as your cheeks heated up. You looked away for a moment, trying to calm yourself down.
Simeon glanced at you before he roughly grabbed the waiter by his collar and pulled him close. "It'd be in your best interest not to anger me. That girl is the only reason you're still breathing, demon," He whispered into the demon's ear before pushing him away.
Your gaze met the angel's and you couldn't help but blush once more. "A-Ah! Did he finally leave? I'm so sorry, Simeon. I didn't know he worked here! He's been harassing me for the past few weeks, and I just don't know what to do anymore." You started rambling, Simeon sitting down before you and listening closely to every single word that left those lovely lips of yours. They looked so soft.
However, he couldn't forget the sheer audacity of that demon. His presence, his words, his existence, all of it was a sin that must be cleansed. How dare he even breathe in your direction? It all frustrated the angel.
That's okay. Simeon would deal with him later. He had to comfort his lover now. "That sounds horrible! Have you told anyone else about this?" He asked reaching over the table and gently grasping your hand. You turned away from his gaze bashfully, blush only growing darker as you felt his eyes pierce through you. "No, you're the only one that knows about him."
Simeon felt his heart pound against his chest at this. He was the only person you trusted enough to tell? Oh, you're so dependent on him, just how it should be. What a good girlfriend you are, even if you didn't know it yet. "I see," He managed to murmur out softly, a light chuckle escaping his lips as you met his gaze once more.
"I'll do with this information what I can to help you, MC. I promise,"
_
Simeon splashed water over Toran's tied-up body, causing the demon to wake up in a panic. Though, his sounds of confusion were muffled by the gag in his mouth. Simeon's hand shot forward, gripping either side of his face and forcing him to meet his gaze. "Disgusting," He muttered softly, a glare making its way to the angel's face. He scoffed and pushed Toran's head away from him, taking a step back and pinching his chin between his thumb and index finger. "Ah, what was your name again?" He asked, voice shifting back to the one he wore normally. The one that angels such as himself were expected to wear. "Toran, I believe, yes?" He asked softly, adjusting his black gloves as he turned his back to the demon. "MC requested I not get you in too much trouble with your higher-ups if I take action. She really is sweet, isn't she?"
Simeon turned around, brushing his gloved fingers over the blade in his hand. "You see, I believe that MC is far too divine to be saddened by someone such as yourself. I believe it is my duty as an angel to expel any unhappiness from her life as I see fit." He made his way over to the demon, gently pressing the sharp tip of the blade against his chin. "I'm like her guarding angel in that way, aren't I? I'd make such a good husband, don't you think? If I asked her to marry me... No, she'd be weirded out by such a thing. I have to ask her to be my girlfriend first, don't I?" Simeon's list of questions was left unanswered, but the sound of the demon muffling something under the gag while he was talking only irritated the demon's captor further. "Has no one taught you manners?" He sliced the bottom of the demon's chin, blood spilling out, and a muffled cry erupted from Toran's throat.
"I truly don't appreciate how you treat MC... It truly is unfortunate. You must be cleansed, demon." He pushed the blade against Toran's chest.
"I will do what I must to protect my human,"
_
Simeon loved you. He loved you more than anything else in this world, more than he loved himself, more than he loved his Father. He just couldn't bare the thought of you rejecting him is all! That's the only reason why this happened.
You were close, so close to finding out his secret. So close to finding the corpses. He wrapped his hand over your mouth and nose and began to chant a sleeping spell into your ear softly, and when you fell limp in his arms, he placed you on the bed.
Now, you looked so beautiful, so innocent, so carefree. He couldn't help but be drawn to your divinity. The way your skirt was pushed up by the duvet slightly, showing him the plush of your thigh. The blush on his face was dark, as were his eyes.
He had to claim you.
In the blink of an eye, he was between your legs, sliding your panties off of you from beneath your skirt, his breath hitching as he saw your pussy. He could feel a lump of saliva form in his throat as he slowly lowered his hand, running two gloved fingers down your slit. Simeon stared at your cunt, not blinking, not moving anything but his hand. He was infatuated with your body, and the only thing that was missing was your whimpers and pleas for him to keep going. Slowly, he pushed his fingers into you, your velvety walls welcoming the digits.
You were tight.
You were a virgin.
A whimper poured from your lips as he shoved his fingers all the way inside of you, his knuckles meeting your entrance. Simeon glanced up at your face to see your expression change, brows knitting together as your lips parted ever so slightly. However, you gave no signal of consciousness. He reached his free hand forward as he began to slowly thrust his fingers into you, making scissoring movements to stretch you. With his free hand he parted your black RAD jacket and unbuttoned your teal underblouse.
Simeon's breathing hitched once more as he saw the white bra you were wearing, taking a moment to think about this situation. You were asleep and vulnerable, and here he was, defiling you. He looked down at his hand, eyes widening at how your essence clung to his fingers.
You wanted him too.
"Haah... I knew it," He muttered out softly, a smile forming on his face. "I knew you wanted me, you naughty girl. Your body's so honest with me."
Biting his lip, he slowly pushed a third finger into you. At the same time, he hooked his index finger around the middle of your bra, pulling it down, and allowing your breasts to spill out. Immediately, his hand groped your mound, squeezing the soft flesh and allowing a chill to run down his spine as he thrusted his fingers faster. "Come on, my dear, give me an orgasm," He said, voice full of desperation, making it seem more like he was begging you. "I need to see you cum for me, darling."
Soft moans and gasps erupted from your throat, and he felt your thighs pushing against his hand. He frowned, pushing your thighs further apart and positioning himself inbetween your legs. "None of that, Dove," He said softly, feeling the heat that pooled around his fingers go straight to his cock. His thumb reached up to trace circles over your clit, causing you to whine and squirm in your sleep.
He felt your walls tightening, excitement coursing through his veins as he thrusted his fingers faster into you, gloved hand soaked, and hand squeezing your breast. "Almost there, Dove," He almost whimpered out, cock twitching. Your hands moved downward, almost as if unconsciously trying to hide yourself from the stimulation.
Your eyes shot wide open and you let out a cry of pleasure as your orgasm came crashing down, coating Simeon's hand in your juices. His movements slowed, allowing you to ride out your orgasm.
Your blurry vision slowly began to re-focus, allowing you to see the angel before you. A sheepish smile appeared on his face as he pulled his hand away, pressing a finger to his tongue to get a taste of your cum. "Simeon?" You panted out softly.
Simeon's hand pushed his white pants and boxers down, freeing his hardened cock, pink tip oozing with precum. "I'm so sorry, my little Dove," He said softly, your eyes going wide as he spread your legs, cock pressing gently against your opening. "I wanted to wait... Ask you to go out with me, then after we got married, I'd take you in a more..." He paused, trying to search for the right adjective. "Romantic setting." Simeon's cock grinded gently against you. "You see, Dove—" You felt him push into you, and you gasped, hands immediately clamping over your mouth. His mouth fell open, letting out a soft groan as he felt your cunt suck him in. "You're just... So— Hnngh!— Tempting!" He slammed himself all the way inside of you, hips meeting yours as he bottomed out.
Tears fell from your eyes at the stretch and you felt his hands on your thighs, guiding them so that your legs would wrap around his waist. "You'll forgive me, right?" He murmured out softly, nuzzling his face into the valley between your breasts. "I'm only doing all of this because I love you." Simeon's eyes met yours and you could feel your body tremble. "S-Simeon, I-I wanted... To wait—" "Wait until when, Dove?!" He suddenly became more aggressive, face now inches away from yours, cock pushing against your cervix, making you whine. "Until one of those vile demons got to you? That isn't an option! You were going to make love to me on the night of our wedding, what difference does it make that I take you here?" He huffed out.
You'd never seen him so angry before, nor have you ever seen him act so possessive before. He pulled his hips back, only to shove them forward again. You moaned loudly, closing your eyes and allowing more tears to fall. "You should be grateful..." He muttered, closing his eyes to try and maintain some of his composure. The contradiction in his words hardly meant anything to your hazy mind. While you did take a moment to realize that he just apologized for waiting before scolding you for wanting the same, the way he started to pound into you made your brain turn to mush.
"That it was me who was here instead of some random demon. I don't know what I would've done if someone deflowered you before I got the chance to, they might've ended up like the others!"
You flinched at this statement, looking up at Simeon through teary eyes. "O-Others?" He scoffed, burying his face into the crook of your neck to leave dark hickies that couldn't be hidden. When you didn't get an answer, you debated on asking him again, but he interrupted your confusion with a slam right into the spot that made you see stars.
You cried out, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you, feeling a knot begin to tighten in your stomach. "S-Simeon! G-Gonna c-cum soon!" You whined out, bucking your hips upward to get more friction between the two of you, hoping for further stimulation.
Simeon knitted his brows together as a thought came to mind. Perhaps if you were pregnant, everyone, including you, would know that you were his. Maybe if he got you attached to him in such a permanent manner, you'd never think about another man. Yes, that sounded absolutely divine. It sounded right.
"MC," He moaned out against your jawline, pressing a kiss to it before he moved upward so his lips were beside your ear. "I'm gonna cum inside you, okay?"
"W-What?!" You flinched, regaining consciousness almost immediately before almost being completely fucked out of it again. Simeon sighed softly against you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "I'm gonna make you— Ngh!— A mamaaa..." He dragged out the last syllable as a blush formed on his face, feeling his orgasm nearing as his pace quickened and his thrusts became more desperate and rough. The tip of his cock bullied your cervix, making you nearly scream in pleasure. "You'll be good for me, right? Y-You'll take all of my cum? Carry my child for me? You love me don't you?"
Your walls convulsed and you screamed as you came, juices coating his length. "Y-Yes," You whimpered out softly, being rewarded with the smile that you'd grown to love on him. "My Dove," He moaned out softly, burying himself deep inside of you and grunting as you felt him paint your insides white. You could feel him filling you up to the brim, womb full, pussy throbbing and drooling with his cum, even though he hadn't moved. There was just so much. You'd never felt this full before.
He slammed into you a few more times, trying to ride out the pleasure of his orgasm, as well as fuck his seed deep within you, before slowly pulling out. The sight of his cum oozing out of you made him blush, looking up at your panting, exhausted form.
Simeon smiled, caressing your tear-stained cheek with the hand that wasn't dirtied, pressing a warm and passionate kiss to your lips. He felt his heart skip a beat when you returned the favor. Reluctantly, though he had to breathe, he pulled away.
"I'll do everything I can to keep you safe and with me, Dove... Even if it means I have to resort to desperate measures,"
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Holy fuck, that was a long ass train ride. I hope you liked it, anon, cause I know some of your horny asses did!
MASTERLIST
566 notes · View notes
applejuicefruit · 10 months
Note
First time with Kylian pretty pleaseee 🥺 we need it, we crave it
kylian mbappe x reader
tw : smut
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First time
“are you sure you wanna do this?” kylian asked you as you were both cuddling on his large black leather couch.
“mh mh” you simply nodded.
it wasn’t a secret for your boyfriend that you were a virgin. you thought that he would joke about it so you kept it a secret for the first months into your relationship but when he started touching you and you started making more excuses he got worried. maybe he was doing something wrong and didn’t know about it.
so when you told him you were a virgin you were so embarrassed you thought you were going to die.
in your mind, no one wanted a virgin. especially kylian, with all the experiences he had in the past you thought he was going to break up with you.
but he was so gentle with you that you almost melted. he never pressured you into doing anything you didn’t want to, he was kind and patient and as your relationship grew stronger so did your confidence and the fact that you wanted kylian to be your first.
“there’s no going back after this…you sure you want it to be with me?” kylian asked.
in kylian’s mind you were too pure and kind to date someone like him, like you were made of crystal. he thought he didn’t deserve someone like you in his life and he wanted your first time to be special. but in kylian’s mind you were perfect for his little mischievous plan.
despite his worry about not being enough for you he knew that he wanted to ruin you and bring you on the edge as many time you could.
“i know…that’s why i want you, it’s just…” you stopped before sounding stupid.
“what? you can tell me anything pretty girl” he lifted your chin up with his fingers.
“i don’t know what to do…what if i do something wrong?” you asked and kylian’s cock twitched at your pained voice.
“you won’t do anything wrong mon ange…i’m here to help you and teach you okay? and if you don’t like something we can always try something new…i’m here for you mon amour” he kissed your temple.
you nodded, putting your trust completely in kylian’s abilities.
he gently guided you to his bedroom where he helped you laying down. he started with some kisses, kissing your cheeks, lips and going down over your neck and collarbone.
that was nothing new for you as you always stopped there and he wanted to make you comfortable.
“can i remove your t-shirt?” he asked and you said yes.
you were left in a black and white bra that sent kylian absolutely crazy and you were loving every single moment of it.
“you’re beautiful…” he murmured against your skin, his lips finding the valley of your breast and leaving soft kisses right there.
his hands reached the hem of your shorts and he asked if he could remove them too. when you said yes his hands worked quickly on leaving you in just your panties and bra.
“you’re a work of art my angel” he said “if at any point you want to stop you tell me okay?”
“okay…” you whispered.
“have you ever touched yourself baby?” he asked and you said no.
kylian couldn’t wait to ruin you.
“it’s okay baby i’ll teach you…” he said while his thumb worked on your covered pussy.
you let a soft moan that encouraged kylian to continue his work.
he gently removed your panties and he threw them somewhere in the room, his eyes too focused on your already wet pussy.
“shit baby…you’re so wet…is it all for me?” he teased and you nodded.
he wanted to see how far he could have pushed you.
“so good for me baby…” he said while he brought his thumb over your throbbing clit “i need to get you ready for me” he said while he started circling your clit with his fingers.
you couldn’t explain what you were feeling, the only thing you remembered was the pornographic sound that left your mouth. everything was new to you and the sensation was amazing.
“open your eyes baby…look at me” kylian asked and you did as he said.
“i need to stretch you out with my fingers first” he explained as one of his finger started circling your entrance.
you felt a little burn when his middle finger slid into you. as he started fingering you, you felt something you’ve never felt before.
“kylian…” you moaned.
“i can feel how close you are baby, let go for me” he said as his thumb pressed a little more on your clit.
that was enough to send you over the edge.
you came with a loud scream that made kylian almost come into his pants.
“you okay mon amour?” he asked and you said yes.
“you wanna do this?” he asked once again.
“yes…please i need you kyky” you didn’t care if you sounded so desperate, you just wanted him to break you and ruin you.
“okay okay…i’m here” he said. in just a swift move he removed your bra and his own clothes.
you noticed how big kylian’s cock was and you thought it wasn’t going to fit.
“it’s okay baby…i’ll go slow” he said as he lined up with your entrance. you felt him stretching you out and you couldn’t lie, it wasn’t the most pleasant feeling but you knew it would hurt a little.
once full inside of you he waited your signal to start move.
“you can move” you said.
he started slow, hips lips back on yours, trying to help you forget the pain and burning sensation.
it took you a few minutes but you started feeling something different and you couldn’t help the moans that left your lips.
“faster please…” you moaned and he obliged.
“you feel so good around my cock baby, i’m not gonna last” he said and he felt your walls clenching around him, sign that you were about to come.
he followed you a few seconds later, spilling his seed over your thighs and chest, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable during your first time.
you both needed a minute to come down of your high.
“you okay?” kylian asked you and you nodded, too tired to even reply.
“let me clean you up and then we can go to sleep mon amour” he said, grabbing a washcloth from his bathroom and gently cleaning your body, so you weren’t sticky and drenched of his cum.
“there you go baby, all cleaned…”
“thank you kyky…it was amazing” you snuggled into his chest and he smiled.
if only you knew the dirty things he had on his mind.
301 notes · View notes
planetdream · 7 months
Note
Heyy
I don't know if you're taking asks right now so if you aren't, don't need to answer :) I'm here mainly to say I appreciate your writing and I'm a bit biased by.. no, I'm in a Lee Know fever lately and I've seen a lot of thoughts and things about being sub, bratty sub and stuff but I don't think I could be it, since I'm inexperienced lol so I thought of Lino with a flirty s/o on the outside but shy and inexperienced on the inside. She just wants to please him and be good for him but she doesn't know how :(( I wonder how Minho would react to a very subby s/o, who just wants to love him and shower him with love but it's too shy to do it by herself:(((
(again, you don't need to answer if you don't feel alright by anything and no hurries <3)
I don't know if I'll be here often but you can call me anon spring 🌼 :)))
Stay well and healthy 💪
Love you writing , bye bye:)))
hiii <3 hehe thank u sm for sending this!! ur ask rlly inspired me so i wrote something short and sweet and i really hope it's a little similar to what you asked for 🥺
warnings [implied smut + d/s dynamics. shy/inexperienced!reader. possible typos.] 747 words
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Minho isn’t used to this. He doesn’t let you notice that, though. You’re on your knees for him, peering up at him with wide, interested eyes, ready for Minho to lead you. It’s not innocence behind your glossy eyes, but rather, inexperience; a hesitation that you’re biting down on, a rising fever of heat within making you want to pounce on Minho—but you don’t. You stay just as you are, hands on your thighs, blinking up at Minho.��
“C’mon pretty,” Minho whispers, hand caressing the flesh of your face. “Told you I can’t do anything unless you tell me what you want.” 
He pouts, blinking back down at you all prettily. This isn’t the first time in your relationship that you and Minho have been physical—he’s eaten you out and fingered you before—but you want to go further. You want to experience all that Minho has to offer, and more, you want to be able to please Minho. Provide him with a euphoric type of pleasure that he’s never experienced. But you’re stuck, unable to find the courage, let alone, the words to explain to Minho the plethora of thoughts that are running through your head. 
He’s careful in his approach to get you to speak. “Baby? What’s in that pretty little head of yours?”
You speak. “I don’t know.” Your thoughts are speaking to you all at once, it’s practically impossible to get anything comprehensible out. 
“You don’t know?” Minho frowns—it’s fake, though, behind it rests a smirk—then continues. “Can’t do anything if you don’t know.” 
“No,” You stall, trying to search for the best possible way to explain what’s on your mind without embarrassing yourself. Though Minho constantly assures you that you can tell him anything, embarrassing or not. Minho’s brow raises, encouraging you to speak your mind. His hand comes back to your face, thumb stroking beneath your cheekbone; an attempt to soothe you, to clear your mind. “Want to…” 
You trail off again. Fear and embarrassment making a home within the pit of your stomach. You know Minho wouldn’t judge you—after all, he did once make an offhand comment about how he’s into some very strange kinks himself—and he might even enjoy what you have to say, indulging in whatever you truly want to do. You’re in safe hands, literally. 
You speak again, in a whisper at first, until the volume of your voice rises. “Want to make you feel good… and I want to be good for you. To you.”
Minho’s heart could shatter into a million tiny pieces. To you, vocalizing it all felt equally as awkward as it felt freeing; you’ve never really had to express what you wanted, causing you to pick your words carefully, fearing that you might be perceived differently. However, from Minho’s perspective, you’re a complete angel; unaware of how alluring and enchanting you are. The sweetest words said in what Minho views as the sweetest possible way of saying them. The way you said it, the small dip in your tone—almost as if you were begging him to let you please him—the way your lips curl into a small smile as you try your best not to hide within yourself. All of it drives Minho so crazy that he could devour you. But he holds back. He has to play it safely, for now. 
“You’re always good to me. For me. Always making me feel good.” Minho whispers. 
“Want to make you feel even better,” You respond, some of your nervousness now behind you. 
“And how do you want to do that?” Minho pushes. You are yet to respond though, fingers picking at whatever they can reach, avoiding the burning gaze of his big brown eyes. 
Minho persists, taking the lead. “Maybe I’ll let you use your hands,” Minho reaches for your hand, the tips of his fingers pressing against yours before he clasps his hand to yours. “Or maybe you can take me in this pretty little mouth of yours.” Minho’s thumb runs from your top lip, dipping into your mouth where your tongue eagerly swirls around the flesh, wanting to suck him in, before said thumb drops down to your bottom lip. 
His eyes trail up from your lips to gaze into your eyes. Minho has the softest chocolate brown eyes but his stare is rather piercing, dominant, like he could force anything out of you if you look into them for too long. “Hmm… Think I want your mouth on me.”
189 notes · View notes
slutforsilverfoxes · 8 months
Text
Sunrise, Sunset
[A/N: I wrote this in a rush bc there’s some stuff going on in my personal life and I just watched episode 9x10 and I needed a good cry 🥺]
*Warning you rn, sad Stevie ahead
—————
“Christ,” you grumble under your breath, slipping in a puddle and nearly falling flat out on the back porch. You try to adjust the grocery bags in your hands to see where you’re stepping, juggling your house keys between two fingers as you mutter on, “How many times have I told that man to wipe down the deck after a swim? Gonna break my damn face one-”
Your griping comes to a dead halt and the bags fall onto the deck with a series of heavy thuds. It’s not water you slipped on.
“St-Steve?” you stammer out, choking on his name. As you follow the trail into your home, now resembling more of a macabre art exhibit than a kitchen, your voice grows stronger and you yell, “Steve! Steven!” Red streaks and fingerprints are smeared across every visible surface, and the sheer volume of blood on the floor sends your heart leaping into your throat.
You can hear heavy footfalls rounding the corner, and you brace yourself to meet your demise at the hands of the same man who attacked your husband minutes ago. Then panicked blue eyes appear at the doorway, and tears pool in your own as you rush into the familiar security of Steve’s arms.
“You’re okay,” you exhale sharply, hands roaming every inch of skin that you can find. Your fingers graze over several bandages along his arms and chest, across his split lip, down the bridge of his nose, and you repeat again, “You’re okay.”
“Most of that blood’s not mine,” he assures you, tenderly brushing his thumb over your cheek and giving you a moment to catch your breath.
“Is this- Is someone after your team?” you ask, taking note of his harried appearance and red-rimmed eyes as he leads you to sit on the living room couch.
He sniffs sharply and averts his gaze before answering, “Not Five-0. My team from the Morocco op.”
You take his hand and bring it to your lap, squeezing it tightly and running your thumb over his knuckles. “How many, Steve?”
He swallows thickly. “Three.”
“And…” You steel yourself for your follow up question. “And Joe?”
Giving your hand a squeeze in return, he says, “Joe’s okay.”
You take and release a deep breath, then lift his hand to your mouth and press a kiss to the back of it. “Do what you need to do,” you say softly. “Just come home to me in one piece when it’s done.”
“Angel, this might not-”
“Consider that an order, Steve,” you cut him off, lifting your resolute gaze to meet his. “You will come home to me.”
“Okay, mama,” he whispers. “Okay.”
—————
The telltale sound of a key slipping into the lock has you jolting awake in the dark living room. Sitting up on the couch, you rub the sleep from your eyes and glance at the clock to find it’s nearly three in the morning. Steve steps inside and locks the door behind him before dropping his bag to the floor. Even in the dim lighting, you can see the weight of the world bearing down on his shoulders, and you call out to him softly.
He takes lumbering steps towards you, then sinks to his knees and rests his head on your thigh, his arms coming up to encircle your waist. “I came home to you,” he says, haunted, his voice muffled by your cotton shorts.
“Thank you, baby,” you whisper, carding your hands through his hair as he tightens his grip on you, his anchor.
“I came home,” he intones again. Your heart aches at how small he sounds, and you understand in that moment what he’s really saying to you: I’m the only one who came home. Pressing your lips to his forehead, you murmur, “You can let go now, honey. Let it go.”
His large body quakes beneath your fingertips, heaving with silent sobs as a lifetime of loss and sacrifice takes its toll. Drawing in shuddering breaths, he clings to you like you’re the oxygen he’s seeking while you rock him side to side and run your hand along his back.
The sun will come up in a few hours, and with it, a new day. But for tonight, all your husband can focus on is coming home to you and the most beautiful sunset he’s ever seen.
—————
[A/N… again: Writing that last line broke me 😔 If you’ve seen this episode I hope you get the reference; seeing my baby sad breaks my heart and I was ugly crying by that point ngl]
187 notes · View notes
moonchildstyles · 1 year
Note
omg could you maybe write about asterry when y/n gets her period? I feel like he would be so sweet and caring 🥺
I’m just having hard days and want to know how does Aster!h take care of his baby when she’s on her period 😔😭
Can you please write aster y/n getting her periods for the first when she stays over Harry's and maybe she leaks on the bed and she's so embarrassed and Harry is just so soft and comforts and takes care of her and he goes to buy tampons and is just being the sweetest.
wordcount: 7k+
—————
"Y'sure you're alright, angel? There's not anything else I can do to help?" 
(Y/N) smiled at the sound of Harry's doting. He'd been fussing over her for hours at this point, ever since she told him she was beginning to feel sick with achey limbs and a headache brewing behind her eyes. He hated when she was ill more than she did, that much she could tell from the sympathetic twist of his features that followed her everywhere she went. 
"I promise I'm okay, H. Really. I think I just need to sleep it off, but thank you for asking." 
While she sunk into the fluff of bedding Harry had cocooned around her, his features stayed stuck in that creased and stern state as he took in her expression. "I don't want y'to get sick again, love," he murmured, his hand underneath the covers settling on her hip as he hovered over her. 
While she fell in love with the way he fussed over her so intently, she couldn't help the amused smile that touched at her lips. The sinus infection she'd just barely gotten over was enough to have him taking a couple of days off taking appointments at the shop and staying up at all hours of the night while she had coughing fits and couldn't breathe well enough to peacefully sleep. She wasn't sure he'd be able to survive another cold from her. 
"I'm going to be okay, Harry," she soothed him with a soft tone, pulling her hand out from the warm confines of the comforter he tucked her into to place her palm on his cheek, "I promise I'll be okay by the morning. I just need to sleep." 
Leaning into her hand, Harry turned his face to press his lips to her palm. The tip of his nose skimmed the pads of her fingers, eyes fluttering to a close with the fan of his lashes touching at the tops of his cheekbones. "Please wake me if y'need me," Harry requested, voice muffled against her skin. 
"I promise," she cooed, sleep creeping in as her eyes shuttered in a slow blink, "Will you please lay down with me now?" 
As if he could ever tell her no. 
He made quick work of settling onto the plush mattress beside her, sheets slipping around his shirtless body as he shuffled her into his arms. Curling around her, Harry cushioned her head onto his chest, just over a blooming rose tattooed on the skin. (Y/N)'s bare legs tangled with his own, fitting his thigh between hers as she soaked in his warmth. Though a hollow ache stunted the muscles over her stomach, his hold was enough to keep her from focusing on the sluggishness touching her limbs. 
"I've got you, angel," he crooned to her, pressing his lips to the top of her head, "Love you." 
"I love you, too," she murmured, her cheek smushing into his bare chest as a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. 
It didn't take long for (Y/N) to fall into her dreams, finding Harry there waiting for her.
—————
Waking with a start, (Y/N) couldn't determine if it was her tears or a cold sweat soaking her cheeks. Her breathing came in panicked puffs as she came back down to earth from the rocky dream that was rapidly escaping her memory, trying to make sense of how the pain she dreamt could feel so real.
Darting her gaze around her surroundings, she took in Harry's bedroom around her, the man himself a steady anchor under her cheek with the cage of his arms keeping her warm against him. Her thighs ached from how tightly she must have been clenching around him, the discomfort stretching well up into her abdomen with even her limbs growing sore. She was surprised she hadn't woken him with apparently how hard she had been seeking comfort in him through her dreamy haze. 
Fluttering her eyes closed, (Y/N) urged her brain to fill with lovely, flowery thoughts to hopefully ward off another round of the nightmare she'd just barely escaped from. Her breathing returned to normal the more she relaxed, recalling one of the sweet dates Harry had taken her on in the last week to keep her thoughts tranquil. 
Until she felt that familiar stabbing pain she thought she left behind in her dreams. 
Her lungs squeezed with a gasp, her legs aching and her arms tensing around Harry at the sudden burn in her abdomen. She couldn't think straight for a moment, only processing the searing that burned her tummy before it began to slowly ebb away. 
The moment she could process more than what had just stunted every brain process, she made a horrifying note of the uncomfortable slick she felt between her legs. With every pulsing aftershock in her abdomen, she swore the wetness grew. 
She started her period, no pants on, in Harry's bed with his thigh pushed between her own. She didn't need to look to know that she had made a mess all over the bedding and, most likely, him. 
Maybe it was the less than pleasant wakeup call she'd just endured, or the high of the hormones she was realizing had been plaguing her for the past few days, but (Y/N) couldn't help the tears that filled her eyes. She couldn't stay here, couldn't keep laying on him knowing that she was grossly ruining his bedding and staining her boyfriend's leg with something she should have been better prepared for. 
Trying her best to keep from jostling him and ruining his morning any further, (Y/N) slipped out of his arms as quickly as she could. Another jolting cramp took her attention as she swung her legs over the side of the bed, the tight pressure in her muscles pulling more tears to the line of her eyes. 
Standing with her socked feet to the cool hardwood floor in Harry's bedroom, the last thing (Y/N) wanted to do was look at the mess she'd made but she couldn't avoid it. She needed to know what exactly she was going to have to apologize and grovel at Harry's feet for. 
With the comforter pulled back, she got a look at the smudge of red that had sunk into the silken fabric of his sheets. The worst yet came in the way Harry's thigh had a dark patch of her blood displayed right on his thigh, the material of his green sweats now heavily stained right where she had been laying on him. 
Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) carefully tugged the duvet up his body, covering his bare chest she had been keeping warm for him. It was with robotic movements that she made her way to his bathroom, grabbing for her duffle bag as an afterthought before she had the door closed and locked behind her. 
In the harsh lighting of the bathroom, (Y/N) could see red stains along the hem of her borrowed top, the piece distorted with the help of the tears she hadn't realized were now slipping down her cheeks. She didn't even want to think about the state of her underwear or really examine just how sticky the inside of her thighs felt. 
When the pacing of her breathing became too rapid to be soothing, (Y/N) forced herself to brace her hands against the ledge of the counter, eyes closed while she concentrated on the sound of her heartbeat rushing through her ears. No matter how close she became to finding solace in the ensuite, another deep cramp would shake her back into the moment with embarrassment following very closely after when she recalled the vision of Harry's ruined bedding and clothes.
While this was far from the first period she'd had at Harry's house, she was always very strategic about how she handled herself when she knew she was going to be with him when she started. She had her cycle charted down to the day, especially with the help of her birth control pills and the tracking system she had in her calendar app. Her period was never something that came unexpectedly; never something she didn't have sanitary products at the ready for along with a mental note to keep track of how she was feeling so she could head home before Harry saw her experience the worst of it. 
It wasn't often she would have killer cramps like she was experiencing—the kind that could steal her vision and stunted any train of thought she had going—, but when she did she usually made a point to stay home or make an excuse to get out of Harry's hair before it got really bad. She didn't want to make him deal with her. That was the worst part, she decided with her eyes still closed in the middle of his bathroom.
Harry was going to know she didn't know how to take care of herself. He was going to know that she didn't know how to stay clean or handle herself when this wasn't something new. He was going to be so disgusted if she didn't try to take care of everything before he woke up. Maybe she could somehow move him out to the couch? Tell him something about Evie being sick on the bed so she could take care of the sheets? But then, she'd have to clean his sweats and she couldn't necessarily do that without getting questions as to why she was stripping him down...
(Y/N)'s mind raced as she frantically searched through her bag, needing to fix at least one part of her mess if she could manage it. Pulling out an extra set of clothing was the easiest thing for her mind to process, but then came the problem of trying to find an extra pad or tampon she swore she had stashed in the side pocket of her weekender with these kinds of scenarios in mind. 
Dumping out the entirety of her bag with the contents of her toiletry stash being torn apart, (Y/N) felt her breathing take on a scary pace once more when she couldn't find a single emergency product hidden among her things. She felt like she was back at her parents house, sitting on the floor in her bloody underwear trying to get a hold of herself before her mother found the stains in her bed or the fact she hadn't been smart enough to properly keep track of her cycle again. As much as she wished she could curl up in the shower, huddled away in a corner as if to hide from whatever would be awaiting her outside the door, just like she used to do, (Y/N) couldn't just let this all go knowing that this was Harry's things she was ruining. 
She did what she could with a wad of toilet paper being her only tool at the moment before she changed out of her borrowed shirt—cringing when she saw the inside of her thighs. Cracking the door open, she found Harry still fast asleep in bed, the covers pulled up to his chin now that she wasn't there to warm him. At least she had a little bit more time before she would have to deal with him. 
Evie followed at her feet, doing her best to trip (Y/N) up as she made her way to the laundry room, bundled t-shirt against her chest. She worked on autopilot as she pretreated the shirt, doing the best she could without breaking out the bleach to soak out the bloody stain at the bottom of the white top she'd borrowed from Harry. All the while her cramps weren't making it easy to plan her next steps, scrambling her brain the second she tried to figure out if she should clean up Harry or the bed first. How could she concentrate when she had to remind herself to breathe?
Picking at her nails as she shuffled back to the bedroom, her eyes puffy and lips swollen from how hard she was worrying them between her teeth, (Y/N) stopped in her tracks the second she saw Harry with his fluffy bedhead sitting up in bed. 
"Morning, lovebug," he crooned, voice rough from lingering sleep, "What are y'doing up? Y'never wake up before me." His words were said with a soft smile on his lips, the sliver of his lip ring wobbling as he wet his dry mouth. 
He didn't know yet. He hadn't seen the mess she made yet. But, he will. 
"Morning," she peeped, her voice wavering as she inched towards the bathroom with a lie fumbling through her head, "I-I'm just about to take a shower. I—um—had a bad dre-dream, so." 
Harry looked much more awake as he processed her words. "Oh, darling," he cooed, running a heavy hand through his hair, "Was the dream really that bad? You look all shaken up." 
She latched onto the out he gave her, nodding her head in jerky movements as she toed the threshold of the bathroom. "Yeah, it was really scary. I-I think taking a shower would make me feel better." 
(Y/N) felt guilty as she pressed into the bathroom, feeling like she was manipulating him knowing that he wouldn't ask any more questions the second she said the shower would make her feel better. 
"Okay," he relented with a small nod of his head, concern touching at the crease between his brows, "Since 'm awake, maybe we could shower together? I promise I'd distract y'from whatever your dream was about, angel." 
The idea of him fitting himself between her thighs made (Y/N) cringe at the moment, knowing the mess that she was going to have to scrub from her skin when she finally did manage to get under the running water. 
"No, no, that's okay," she swallowed, pasting a smile onto her face though the guilt ran rampant in her system when she saw his expression fall. "I promise I'll be done really quick, though.  I'm sorry, H." 
"Don't be sorry, darling," he shook his head with a small smile touching at his lips, "Jus' come back to me soon, yeah? Miss y'already—especially without m'good morning kiss." 
She gave him an absent nod of her head before holing herself up in the bathroom, the lock clicking into place behind her. The mess of her things was still splayed across the floor, clothing rumpled and her toiletries out of order. She knew she should at least start with getting her things together, tidying the space so she could think a little clearer, but the second she felt another tingling cramp brew in her stomach before shooting up her spine, she didn't have it in her to try. 
Sinking down to sit in the mess on the floor, her back to the door, (Y/N) couldn't cry anymore. She tucked her legs up against her chest, chin resting in the gap between the hills of her knees while she stared right at the fogged glass doors to the shower. Her eyes unfocused as she allowed the swirling of her mind to play out the worst scenario in her mind. 
Harry was going to get out of bed, realize there was something sticky on his leg. When he would look down at the red marring the material, the stain too far gone at this point to successfully soak out without ruining the integrity of his sweats. She could only imagine his disgust when he realized what it was, putting the pieces together as soon as he noted the matching blot on the sheets. Harry was patient with her at all times, she knew that, but there was only so far a person could be pushed. 
This could be his breaking point, (Y/N) worried. She was ruining his things, and making a mess all over his house. There was no way he could going to be alright with her hiding away from him either, instead of going to him and taking whatever scolding she knew she deserved. This was exactly why her mother was always so adamant about her keeping these matters away from her father; it was gross and nothing a man should have to deal with, especially if it's because she couldn't keep herself together. 
With her fingers tapping across her knee, something to keep her from further picking at the pink manicure painted over her nails, (Y/N) figured she should at least hop in the shower, if only to keep up the facade of her lie. The second she thought to stand, gather her toiletries and clean herself up, she couldn't find it in herself to make a move. Any second Harry would come looking for her, she was sure. Then she would have to explain herself and hope he didn't kick her out before she was able to clean his sheets. 
As if she had manifested it, a quiet knock sounded on the door, the wood vibrating behind her back. "(Y/N), love, are you alright?" 
Taking in a deep breath, (Y/N) gathered the courage to answer. He didn't sound mad at least. "Yeah, I'm okay. Sorry I'm taking so long." 
"'S alright, baby, don't need to be sorry," he murmured through the door, hesitance coating his words, "Are you sure you're okay?" 
"Yeah, just tired," she peeped, curling her hands into fists to keep from picking at her nails. Harry would be upset if he saw her nail polish any more chipped. 
A sigh could be heard from the other side of the door, heavy and defeated. "Nothing's wrong? At all? There's nothing y'wanted to tell me or ask me for?" 
Why wouldn't he just leave? Maybe if she had enough time, and he left the bedroom, she could sneak in and steal his sheets and soak them in the shower. That might work, right? He'd surely notice the sheets missing, but she could come up with some story, right? 
"No, I'm okay, Harry. I promise." She cringed as she spoke, feeling a wave of shame pump through her system knowing that she was using her promise against him. 
A beat passed, (Y/N) swearing she could feel his presence on the other side of the door despite the time that passed. She knew she was right the second she heard a soft thump against the door, as if he were matching her position on the other side of the wood. 
"So, y'wouldn't be upset over the sheets or anything? Or the shirt that's in the laundry right now, even though I know y'were wearing it when we went to sleep?" 
(Y/N) couldn't help the shaking sob that ripped from her throat at the mention of her actions. Hearing it all out loud hurt almost as bad at her cramps. The anxiety opened a pit in her stomach that felt like she was being sucked in from the inside out, her entire center of gravity being placed in her middle like she was going to disappear if she moved too suddenly. But, she wouldn't be lucky enough for that to really happen. 
"H-Harry," she peeped, the call of his name broken and quiet, "I'm so sorry. I-I'm so sorry." 
"Oh, angel," he cooed, tone a lot softer than she would have anticipated after hearing her admission of guilt. "Can I come in, baby?" 
She didn't make a move to unlock the door. She didn't know what she would do if she opened that door and he didn't look at her with his tender eyes and softened features she'd grown so accustomed to. 
"Please, (Y/N)?" 
But, it couldn't heart worse than hearing the defeat in his tone as he pleaded with her. 
With shaky legs, she stood to unlock the door before skittering off to sit at the edge of the tub stationed on the other end of the bathroom. That would at least give them some space if he saw her and a spark of anger ignited over how much of a mess she was acting. 
"You can come in," (Y/N) allowed, dropping her gaze to her hands that were bundled in her lap. On the brightside, with the distraction of her anxiety and the pending doom she felt over Harry witnessing her, she could barely make note of the cramps she vaguely felt bunching her abdomen. 
It was quiet, the way he slipped in, padding over the tiled floor before he surely paused at the sight of her belongings a heap on the floor. The sound of blood rushing through her system roared through (Y/N)'s ears, blocking out his advances until he was right in front of her. Harry, with his hair now tied back in a loose bun on the back of his neck, eyes scrubbed of sleep and a clean pair of sweats on his bottom half came into her line of sight. He crouched in front of her, warm hands settling on the cuffs of her knees while the gleaming green of his eyes fought to make contact with hers. 
"Angel?" he crooned, his voice a cushion for the runaway train of thought she lost control of.
"Y-Yeah?" Don't pick your nails, don't pick your nails, don't pick your nails. 
"Oh, baby, c'mere." 
That was all it took for her to clamor onto his lap, grateful at least for the extra layers of her sweats and the toilet paper she had utilized so she could settle over his thighs. The sobs she thought she was finished with made a vengeful comeback as she tucked her face into his throat, arms a shaking cage around his neck. She shielded herself as best she could, reveling in the calm before the storm she still couldn't convince herself she'd breezed past. There was no way he couldn't be at least a little angry with her, she knew that. 
But, all Harry did was run his hands in soothing circles along the planes of her back, blunt nails adding a calming clarity as they pressed in through the fabric of her top in the wake of his fingers. He pressed absent kisses to her shoulder, nose skimming along the neckline of her top as he cooed sweet nothings she wished she could hear. A steadying hand grasped her waist, occasionally running a small circuit over the dip. She was sure she didn't know just how soothing that was for her cramps, and she wasn't going to tell him in case he stopped. 
(Y/N) couldn't be sure just how long she sat wrapped in his arms, crying her heart out until he had successfully comforted her enough to get her breathing in check and tears to quit flowing. She indulged herself by giving him a soft kiss on the curve of his throat, a quiet thank you she didn't think she could properly articulate through her croaky voice even if she tried. 
"'S alright, baby," he crooned to her one last time before his hand on her back shifted to sift his fingers through the strands of hair on the back of her head. Using a gentle grip, he pulled her away from the home she made in his neck, giving the only solace she could find in the baby curls on the back of his neck that hadn't made it into the bun. 
Struggling to meet his eyes, (Y/N) settled with a view on his chest, noting the lines of ink needled into his skin. She hadn't noticed that budding rose before. 
"Will y'look at me, lovebug?" Harry requested, his fingers on the back of her head massaging he scalp. As much as she didn't want to, she knew he deserved at least that much from her. It was hesitant, the way she lifted her head and made contact with his softened eyes. She couldn't help but to search for any signs of a changing tide. "Hi, you," Harry cooed to her, voice barely a whisper. 
A shaky smile made its way on her lips. "Hi." 
Her eyes fell closed as he craned his neck, pressing a tender kiss to the full of her cheek, lips lingering. "Y'okay to talk to me now? Or do y'need a little bit longer?" 
"I'm okay," she lied. 
The careful smile that molded his features was enough to have (Y/N) soothed while she waited for his reaction now that he wasn't prioritizing taking care of her. "What happened this morning, baby? Did y'really have a bad dream, or was it something else?" 
"I really did have a bad dream," she peeped, finding flecks of blue and gold in the heady green of his eyes, "But, when I woke up I realized I made a mess, so I..." 
(Y/N) didn't know how to finish her sentence, allowing the unfinished sentiment to hang in the air while she dropped her gaze from Harry's. This was too embarrassing for her already, she didn't know if she could handle explaining it all to him. 
"So, y'got up to clean up?" Harry prodded, keeping his steady hand on her waist. (Y/N)'s response came in the form of a soft nod. "Okay, I understand. But, why did y'hide from me, baby? I would have helped you, you know that." 
Her gaze grew watery at his offer. He shouldn't have to worry about cleaning up after her like that. She shouldn't have messed up, forgot what day it was. This was her responsibility. 
"You don't need to do that," she whispered with a shake of her head, "I'm sorry I didn't take care of myself. I ruined your things." 
"Darling," Harry pressed, dropping his head to somehow wiggle his way into her line of sight, "What are y'talking about? Y'didn't ruin anything." 
"Yes, I did, Harry," she cemented in as stern of a voice she could muster with a waver, "I st-stained your clothes and ruined y-your sheets. I was too stupid to pay attention and n-now you have to take care of this even thought its my fault. I'm so sorry." 
Harry didn't bother to soothe her with any cooed words then, catching onto the fact she wouldn't hear a single syllable with the way her heartrate kicked up. Instead, he tucked her back into his chest, face in his neck as he rocked her where he sat on the bathroom floor. He only spoke when he sushed every attempt she made at apologizing. 
Once she came down for the second time in his arms, he chanced another pull of her hair to get her back into his line of sight. "Y'alright?" 
Her hum of confirmation didn't sound very convincing even to her own ears. 
She watched as Harry sighed, probably thinking the same thing as he shifted his hold on her hair to cradle her cheek on his palm. "Is that why y'were hiding from me, baby? Were y'worried I was going to be mad?" 
The childish nod she gave him felt fitting given the fact she could barely speak without sending herself into a crying fit. 
"Oh, angel," he crooned before pressing a delicate kiss to the corner of her mouth, "I could never be mad at y'for something like this, do you understand me? None of this is your fault, I know that. I know y'didn't mean to do any of that, okay? I'm sorry y'felt like y'had to clean up all by yourself." 
"But—" 
"No," he sternly cut her off, features still molded with soft edges and rounded corners, "I'm not mad, and there's no reason y'need to be mad at yourself either. It happens, baby, and there's nothing to be upset about. Y'can't control this kind of thing, and I want y'to understand that I would never expect that from you. Y'shouldn't either." 
"I made everything dirty, though," she peeped, her voice a hair away from cracking had she spoken any louder, "I ruined y—" 
"You didn't ruin anything, okay? We can wash the sheets, and I've already got our clothes in the machine. Nothing is ruined or broken, okay? 'M only worried about you now." 
Taking in a deep breath, (Y/N) put in the effort to match his gaze. "Promise?" 
"Promise what, lovebug?" 
"Promise you're not mad?" 
The quiet curve of his lips that further softened the planes of his features had (Y/N)'s heart calming. He wouldn't be able to fake that. "I promise you 'm not mad, darling. I cross my heart, swear on Evie, everything. 'M not even a little mad, just worried." 
Harry would never, ever swear on Evie if he didn't mean it. 
"Thank you," she whispered before closing around him in a hug, wilting into his chest as her eyes fluttered closed, this time with relieved tears in her eyes. 
"I love you so much," he murmured into her shoulder, dropping an accompanying kiss to drive home the sentiment. 
(Y/N) finally felt her features relax as she let a smile tug at her lips. She could stop clenching her teeth now, something she hadn't even realized she'd been doing. "I love you too, Harry. So, so, so much." 
Silence settled over the bathroom as (Y/N) wrapped her head around her reality and stopped letting her anxieties twist it otherwise. Everything was alright, Harry had promised. 
"Do y'want to go back to sleep? I still need to wash the sheets but we can have a sleepover in the living room, if y'want?" Harry finally asked after a few minutes, breaking the quiet of the room.
She wrinkled her nose at the idea of going back to sleep feeling as dirty as she did. She still needed to wash her thighs and change into a new pair of panties now that she could think clearly. Toilet paper would have to do for now until she could make it to the store for proper products, but she could work with that. "I want to shower. I feel gross." 
A breathy laugh fell from Harry's lips as he reluctantly pulled his arms around her, only to help her stand up with him. His legs were wobbling as he stood to the full of his height, surely the cold tiles he knelt on having made him go stiff. "Alright. While y'take a shower, I'll go to the shop, okay? I can grab some things for you and when 'm back we'll take a nap. That sound good?" 
"That sounds really good, Harry, thank you." Looking up at him she gave him a watery smile, eyes still puffy and skin still warm from her earlier sobs. 
Harry gave her his own lopsided smile before giving her a small kiss to the tip of her nose. Letting go of her hand, he made it his job to start cleaning up the mess of her things on the floor, collecting her toiletries onto the counter so she could do what she needed with them while she bathed. "Anything specific y'want from the shop?" 
"No, no, just... pads and stuff," she peeped out, not able to meet his eyes at her request. While he proved to be much more mature and not crazy about these circumstances, she still wasn't used to even acknowledging she had a period to anyone other than Sarah. 
"Got it," he beamed, settling her special shampoo and conditioner on the counter alongside her favorite body lotion, "Take your time while 'm gone alright? Relax a little, and then when I'm home I'll take care of you." 
(Y/N) could only manage a soft nod her head. If she tried to speak she feared she would burst into tears again. 
God, she loved him.
—————
"I grabbed a couple of different ones since I wasn't sure what y'liked. Anything that y'don't use we can jus' keep here, though, yeah?" 
(Y/N) watched as he emptied his grocery bags with a glass of water in her hands, swallowing down the medicine Harry had dosed out to aid in her cramps. Her hair was damp against the back of her neck, the tendrils slowly drying after the calming shower she spent the better part of an hour taking. She indulged in the extra time Harry encouraged her to take, scrubbing with her favorite exfoliants and conditioning her hair with the sweetest smelling cream in the bunch. Every soap, balm, and lotion she swept across her skin helped her feel more and more like herself—like this morning had happened years ago instead of only hours. By the time she finally pried herself from the steamy bathroom, dressed in a set of Harry's clothes he sat out for her along with the proper products to help with her period, she felt worlds better despite the cramps still racking her system. 
Harry had been waiting for her out in the living room when she emerged fully dressed and had her hair braided back while it dried. He had jumped to his feet when he saw her, hands on his hips as he scanned over her as if to check for injuries in his absence. Once he was soothed, he had her taking her medicine before leading her to the kitchen where the rest of his grocery bags were laid out, a crease in his brow as he began unloading them. 
"Y'can also take some back to your place, too, if y'need them," he mused, pulling out package after package, "I jus' don't want y'to have to go without for any reason ever again, love. Did I do alright, though? The one I left for y'was alright?" 
Though she was a little shy at his line of question, she still felt her heart skip a beat over how hard he was trying. "It's perfect, H. Thank you." 
A soft smile took his features, getting him to slow down before reaching for the next bag in the bunch. Out he pulled a bundled pair of pajamas, the fabric fleecy and warm, dyed a soft pink hue. "I got y'these, too," he murmured, offering her the set as he laid them out on the counter for her to look at, "I figured y'would want to wear something familiar after getting out of the shower, but y'can change into these if y'want. They were the softest they had and when I saw them in pink I knew I had to get them for you." 
(Y/N) let out a breathy laugh at his words, trailing her fingers over the softened material that she really might change into later. He had been right, though, she decided. She was happy to be wrapped in Harry's clothes and his scent after the whirlwind of a morning she was having. 
"Fuck, I probably did a little too much now that 'm looking at it all," Harry murmured, amusement touching his features as he pulled out a small pink frog plush from the same bag, "but, I got this for you, too. Seeing y'so upset this morning really got me, love, I just wanted to get y'anything I thought might make y'smile. 'M sorry." 
"No, no, no," she shook her head, hurriedly grabbing for the plush to look at the smiling features and blushing cheeks on the frog, "I love him, H. Thank you. You're making me feel so much better." 
Just as she had hoped, she could see the way his worry shifted and melted from his shoulders, his features settling into something much more tranquil at her reassurances. 
"Yeah?" he pressed, dimples deep in his cheeks as he looked up at her from where he was folding his tote shopping bags to be put away until next time, "I also got y'that soup y'like. The miso one with the soy sauce flavoring even though I know you're just going to add your own anyway."
"Oh my gosh, you found some?!" (Y/N) chirped in her spot, bouncing on the balls of her feet, "They've been out the last, like, three times I've gone to the store!" 
Suddenly, his smile turned a bit sheepish at the corners as he dropped his gaze to where he was folding the final remaining bag. "I—uh—I went to three different shops. That's why I jus' got home a few minutes ago." 
"Harry," her voice came out like a pouted whine as she canted her head, "Are you serious?" 
"I jus' wanted to find it for you, angel, that's all. Don't need to get all pouty on me, okay?" 
Despite his request, she didn't care before she was rounding the counter with the glass of water being pushed off to the side. Fitting herself against his chest, (Y/N) squeezed him as much as she could muster, wanting him to feel how much she loved and appreciated every moment with him—especially these ones. 
"I love you," she murmured, the words earnestly made against his chest. 
Harry didn't even hesitate before he was gathering her in his own arms, dropping his head to press a kiss to the crown of hers. His breath ruffled the slowly drying hairs right on top with his nose skimming the strands. 
"I know, baby." 
—————
Harry hovered over (Y/N) with his lips pursed in a tight line, brows knitted in the middle. "Your cramps are still that bad, love? Are y'sure y'want to eat?" 
"Yeah, I'll be alright," she muttered, letting out the deep breath she'd been holding during the lingering wave of pain through her abdomen, "I just need to get through until I can take more medicine." 
Sighing, he checked the time on his phone. "That's not for another hour. Are y'sure y'want to eat? I don't want you to feel sick." 
"I don't feel nauseous or anything, though, really." The second she had shared just how intense her cramps could become if she hadn't prepared for them—just as was the case today—, he'd been worried about whether or not she felt sick at every turn. "Eating will help, H." 
Though he heaved a sigh, it seemed that was all the convincing it took for him to relent. Twin bowls of miso soup were laid out on the coffee table before them, Harry having insisted they have a 'picnic' in the living room so she could stay with her heating pad, heaps of blankets, and plush frog on the couch. Just as promised, he brought along a bottle of chilled soy sauce from the fridge, knowing just how much she liked to add the real deal instead of the powdered packet that came along with her favorite miso soup mix. 
"Thanks, honey," she smiled up at him, watching as the murmured pet name had the desired effect on him. She was never one for pet names, the feeling odd when she would rather call her love by his name, but she knew he would understand just how much she appreciated his efforts if she tacked on the sentiment.
"'M your honey?" he asked, a blush rising to tint his cheeks and touch at the tip of his nose, "What's that for?" 
"No reason," she said in between spoonfuls of soup, bits of tofu and seaweed leaves swirling through the broth, "Just wanted to call you that." 
Harry didn't make any comments in response, only tucking her into his side and pressing a delicate kiss to the side of her head. He didn't bother to unwind his arm even as he started eating, keeping that steadying hold on her waist with his fingertips overlapping onto the heating pad pressed to her tummy. 
"We can watch some of your shore show, if y'want," Harry offered in a mumble, pretending as if he wasn't as entertained with her reality t.v. choices as she knew he was.
"Really?!" she bubbled, bouncing in her spot though she was careful to keep from spilling her food, "I still need to show you the second season. That will show you why I love the show so much, I promise. Everyone fights at least twice during the whole season." 
"Is that so?" he hummed, nodding his head with an amused tilt to his lips, "And, we like when they fight?" 
"Of course," she said with a 'duh' attitude leaking into her tone, "They're all stupid, but the ones that we really don't like lose every time." 
"Alright," he relented, passing along the remote to her so she could pull up the show, "But, you'll have to pause it when I need to get y'some medicine. I don't want to miss any of this if 's so important." 
She didn't have it in her to argue with him while he was being so sweet. 
"Okay, honey." 
"Angel, stop, you're making me blush. Put on your little show, and hush." 
—————
Harry's face lit up when (Y/N) exited the bathroom clad in the soft pink pj's he'd brought home for her today. She still had his hoodie covering her torso, but the fleecy bottoms were snug over her freshly exfoliated legs. 
"You're wearing 'em! Are they as soft as I thought they would be?" Harry beamed as she made her way to the bed, her spot vacant and waiting for her aside from her new froggy plush laid against her pillow. 
"They're really soft, H," she cemented, crawling into bed bedside him with her hair fluffed and free from the braid she twisted it back in earlier. "We need to go back and get you a pair." 
"Yeah? You think so?" he asked, wrapping her in his arms as she settled against his chest, covered pulled up and tucked to her chin. 
"Mhm," she hummed with a smile as she angled herself to look up at him wither her cheek smushed into his bare chest. 
He was tired, that much she could tell from the soft set of his features and the touch of darkness gathering under his eyes. She knew he hadn't napped with her when she fell asleep on the couch, but she hadn't realized just how badly he may have needed it. But, she knew he wouldn't have settled even if she pleaded. He was much too occupied with ensuring her heating pad was stuck to her tummy and she was drinking w enough fluids to make up for what she was missing out on with her cycle. 
Maybe, she thought, she could use a bit of his exhaustion to her advantage and convince him to sleep in with her tomorrow. And, if she lucked out and got up before him, she could treat him to some breakfast.
"What?" he asked, interrupting her admiring. Harry's own smile was saddled with a pair of deep dimples on the apples of his cheeks, lips softened and pink to match the color blushing the tip of his nose. 
"Nothing," she hummed, feeling a little silly to be caught starting as if she had made any attempts to hide it. "Just wanted to tell you that I love you, and thank you for today. It really means a lot." 
"Darling," he crooned to her, petting his hand through her hair, "Don't need to thank me for any of that, okay? I don't know where y'got the idea that I was going to be upset with you, but I need y'to know hat I didn't do anything special today. I took care of you because I love you and 's the right thing to do, okay?" 
"But, it's special to me, H," she insisted, voice a whisper in the quiet of his bedroom, "I would never expect anyone to do that for me, and I just—I don't know. It just really means a lot to me and made me love you even more." 
Harry shifted under her, using the hand he had petting her hair back to pull her face to his. Pressing his lips to hers, he made use of the gentle contact to get his own point across. he loved her and would do this for her no matter what, because he wasn't stupid and wasn't insane enough to be upset with her over something out of her control. She shouldn't expect anything less than this treatment because it was what she deserved. 
"Today made me love y'more, too," he murmured against her kiss, a slight nudge of his nose against hers pulling a smile from her lips. 
"Really?"
"Mhm," he hummed, pulling away just enough to match her gaze. "Y'make me feel needed, like y'want me around even if 'm only doing things you're more than capable of doing for yourself. I like knowing that y'want me to do it anyway—that y'trust me." 
Brushing a gentle hand over the height of his cheekbone, fingertips tracing over the planes of his face in a delicate touch, (Y/N) felt her emotions take ahold of her once more. "Because I do need you," she whispered, voice wavering as she tried to keep her tears at bay, "You make me feel wanted." 
Touching his forehead to hers as best he could while still getting a view of her pretty eyes, Harry allowed a lazy smile to touch his features. "We make a good team then, don't we?" 
Her smile wavered at his crooned words. "The best." 
Harry couldn't stop smiling, even when he kissed her until she fell asleep. 
—————
its finally here ahhhh!! thank you sm for reading and sorry for any mistakes! if u have any questions or requests of your own please snd them in!
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jarofstyles · 2 years
Note
ok concept. pillow princess! y/n but soft dom!harry who loves it cause he just wants to take care of her all the time
🥺 we love that dynamic tbh.
Check out our Patreon!
—-
“That’s my girl. Just lay there and take it.” His voice sent chills up her body as her eyes locked with his. Mouth hung open with pleasure, her hand held his wrist as it collared her throat, a tiny bit of pressure making her slick up around his length as it thrust into her slow and deep.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” the whimpers fell from her swollen lips as she was filled with each movement of his hips, legs secured to the footboard of the bed. Forced open so she couldn’t close them, letting her be at his mercy. His eyes held hers as he fucked her, a slow smile rising on his face as he watched her take every bit of him that he wanted.
“S’not a nice word for such a good little girl… but it sounds so pretty coming from your lips. I’ll allow it today.” The dark voice spread through her body, approval and arousal making her clench up around him. She was making a mess around his cock, drippy little thing that she was, and he enjoyed every single bit he could milk from her. It wasn’t too difficult with how he knew how to handle her. “Do you like it when I let you say those things, baby? Just feels too damn good getting filled up the way my princess needs. Doesn’t it? Can’t help the filthy things that come out of the pretty mouth I love so much.” His free hand moved to stroke her lips, tracing them with his thumb.
“Yes sir. I love it… I can’t help it.” She babbled, the pleasure as he stroked right into that spot having her head swimming. He knew just how to manipulate her body to have her acting cock dumb, giving into his every request and thoroughly enjoying it. “Feels so good inside me. Wanna cum soon. Please?” Her glazed over eyes met his again after closing them, finding his thumb on her mouth and sucking it into her mouth with promise.
“Oh, baby…” he cooed, increasing the pace of his thrusts. The eagerness to please only added to his own. “Course you can. You can cum as many times as that gorgeous cunt will let you. But I’m not stopping until I’m done, hm? Told you you’re allowed. Just want to make us feel so good… won’t have any problems sleeping after this, will you?” He pushed and pulled his thumb in her mouth, groaning internally at the tongue rolling around it like she would do on his cock. She was his best girl and he truly wanted her pleasure more than anything else. It got him off. His ultimate turn on.
The thumb popped from her mouth and she let out a keening moan, bucking her hips as the now wet thumb brushed over her clit. “Oh, fuck me. Please- please, sir. Give me anything you want. Make me feel so good, I love how you make me feel.” She pulsed around him as he teased her clit, smirking down slightly at her body. A slight layer of sweat, breasts moving with his thrusts, teary eyes from the pleasure getting to her and the place where they met. Soaked and filthy, a layer of her arousal coating every inch of his cock and dripping down his balls and even a bit of his thighs. The most perfect sight there was.
“Yeah? It does? Feels so good?” He puured, leaned down to kiss her, squeezing the sides of her throat simultaneously. “Feels so fucking good to be fucked by me? Then cum. Show me how good it feels, angel girl.” 
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mykinkyyandere · 2 years
Note
Hi. I just want to say that I am absolutely in love with your dark! Anakin stories. I was hoping that you would post/write part 2 to hologram soon. It's one of my favorites 😝. Maybe the reader finally meets obi wan and he wants to have a go at her💦 but Anakin just gives him a live show instead😆 with breeding kink and maybe a little bit of bondage?? 🥺. Again, love your work ♥️
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Hologram 2 (Final)
AO3
Part 1
Pairings: Yandere! Anakin Skywalker X f!Reader X Yandere! Obi-Wan Kenobi
Summary: Anakin gives his Master a live show.
Warnings: Non-con, smut, dark, yandere, dirty talk, swearing, kidnapped reader, breeding kink, voyeurism
A/N: 🖤🖤
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"Hello, Master."
Obi-Wan took a deep breath before turning to the voice of his apprentice. He could hear your weak sighs. He smiled, taking a large swig from the glass in his hand. "You didn't bring her to me."
"Clever." Anakin watched him put the glass down on the table and turn towards you. He took a few steps and looked at you, licking his lips. You wear nothing. You only had Anakin's robe, which he put to cover your defenseless body. But he didn't let you wear its arms. The robe hung from your shoulder, leaving your arms trying to hide your breasts. It was a much better view for his pleasure. And it seems he wasn't alone.
"What do you want?" Obi-Wan moved closer to you, trying to ignore the hardening in his pants. His constant gaze scared you, and you sighed, turning your head to Anakin's chest. A sweet sigh that turns them both on. Anakin moved towards one of the seats and whispered to you, reassuring you that everything was okay. That he would never let him touch you. His voice was soft enough to make you trust him and calm you down. But you still threw weak punches on his chest and started sobbing for him to let you go.
He put you on his lap as he sat on the seat and let your legs hang on either side of him. He made his robe fell from your shoulders and grinned as the breathtaking sight of your curved back made Obi-Wan groan. "I want you to beg." He kissed your neck and grabbed your waist. "Beg to touch her."
"You're enjoying this, aren't you? Owning her and showing off. You love to see me go crazy for her little pussy. Oh, you're such an asshole." Obi-Wan walked with the desire of pulling you from his arms, but Anakin pushed him back with force.
"Patience, Master. Be patience and see her delicious parts or try to get her and this will be the last time you see her pretty pussy. Wanna miss the chance to watch her jump on my lap, hm?" He laughed and wasted no more time, he pulled out his cock.
"Please, don't!" No matter how much you screamed, he never let you go. He ran his hungry lips over your cheeks, neck, and lips and stroked your body over and over. He whispered that you were only his as he squeezed your arms, waist, and breasts.
"You have nowhere to go. You can't live without me, my beautiful angel. You need me and I won't let you go anywhere. Understood?" He rubbed his nose against your neck, and his hot breath burned your skin. His touch and words were passionate, even wild, but emotional enough to make you believe when he told you how well he would take care of you. His passion for you was terrifying.
He grabbed your butt and stretched it so Obi-Wan could see your little holes. Caused your body to lean against his hard chest. "Enjoy the show, Master. I'm not always this generous. You should be grateful to me."
Obi-Wan pulled his cock out, staring at your glowing slit. He hated his apprentice was such an arrogant scumbag, but he loved watching you, even though he wanted to touch you so bad. It was hard to admit that you belonged to him, but he didn't want to miss the chance to watch you get fucked. So he kept his mouth shut and enjoyed the show.
"Look at your delicious pussy. So fucking delicious that my Master gone fucking crazy, my litte angel." He placed a watery kiss on your lips. His ecstatic moans echoed in your ears as he kneaded your butt and it became more and more difficult to imagine your freedom.
Panic filled all over you when he took his hands off your butt and lifted you slightly. Before you could resist, he placed his cock in your hole and slowly sat you down. His moans and your screams filled the entire room, leaving Obi-Wan on fire as he stroked his cock with your slow, rhythmic pat. "Fuck her like that, yeah."
Anakin wrapped his arms around you and pressed you to his chest so your butt could give his Master a better view. Oh, how he loved him watching you get fucked like a helpless little prey. He picked up his pace, grabbed your butt harshly and stretched it. Obi-Wan was a lucky man, he thought. Anakin almost got jealous for not being able to watch his own show.
"Look how your little cunt's lips are gripping his big cock. I can see your lips stretching in and out, damn. You're so tight." Obi-Wan was almost there. Your grip was so arousing that he nearly cum right there. But his describing not only turn him on, also made Anakin want to cum straight away. He wanted to paint your walls, wanted his thick and intense cum fill your hole and explode the moment he pulled his cock out. He wanted your breasts to grow day by day and your tummy so round that you couldn't walk. He wanted Obi-Wan to watch him put a baby inside you.
He tightened his grip and slid into you as fast as you could handle. The erotic feelings evoked by the pat sound encouraged both him and his Master to cum. With your hands on his shoulders and your face against his chest, you sobbed. Waiting for him to finish harassing your depths.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum. Oh, fuck." Obi-Wan walked quickly towards you. Stroking his cock with messy and firm strokes. "I want to cum on her pussy."
Anakin didn't even think of turning down his Master's dirty wish. He was so lost in the taste of your pussy that he laid down on the seat and stretched your butt even more. Obi-Wan got closer and watched Anakin's dick disappear into your tight pussy. He watched how your butt waved with each hit and let the claps fill his ears like a music. The juicy sounds of your pussy made them both ecstatic. And besides your pussy, the little hole on your butt was breathtaking.
"Can I stick my head in her tight little empty hole? Can I fill her ass with my thick cum?"
Anakin was so burned by the dream you were overflowing with cum that he wanted to let his Master just that time. It was incredible to think both of your holes were full. But only he was allowed to touch your precious skin. "Fuck you" he whispered in lust.
"You're an arrogant asshole, fuck." He had a hard time controlling the urge to touch you. If he touched you, he might never see you again, and it would be better if he died. So he contented himself with watching as closely as possible and stroking himself.
It didn't take him long to cum, moaning loudly as he spreading his thick ropes and watched them paint your holes. Then Anakin followed him. He gripped your waist and pressed himself as his final move hit your cervix. His growls filled your ears, his deep breathing making your body shudder on his chest.
"My little breeding angel." He stayed inside you for a few seconds, still high. "I love to fuck you so much."
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fandoms-writings · 11 months
Note
3. "Let me kiss it better." omg please please please with either my favorite sweet angel Something Domestic Bucky or our favorite Daddy🥺
I have to bring back the OG for this 🥺
Pairing: ex-military amputee!Bucky x fem!reader
Word Count: 624
Warnings: it's a little more angsty than i intended, but it's okay
come celebrate with me! || Series Masterlist
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It was just one of those days. The ones where everything is just a little heavier than usual. 
You couldn't pinpoint exactly what's wrong, or why you feel the way you do, but you're just done with the day. You got everything done, took care of the horses, did the chores. And now, it was hitting you like a truck. 
You sat on the couch, nothing on the tv to entertain you, your phone forgotten about on the coffee table. Your book that you'd thought might help remained untouched on the side table. Glancing out the window, you could see Bucky and Peter chatting as they walked back from the barn, Bruno following closely at their heels. 
Sighing, you looked down to Alpine, cuddled on the cushion next to you and you laid down, wrapping your arms around the little fluff ball as she stretched her paws out. 
You weren't sure how long you laid there, Alpine in your arms and just staring off into the void, but eventually Bucky entered your field of vision, kneeling next to the couch as he watched you. 
"You okay? I've been calling for you." He whispered, reaching up to drag his fingertips along your scalp. 
Your eyes focused on him, seeing the worry in his eyes and filling you with a sort of guilt. Bucky had been doing so well lately, he was visibly happy and told you so every night. So why were you making him worry about you? Why couldn't you just be happy too?
He must've seen the argument in your head because he asked again, "What's going on?" His voice dropped low and his brows scrunched and all you could do was shrug your shoulders. You wanted to tell him that sometimes life just got you down, but the words wouldn't leave your lips, it was like your voice disappeared. The small sigh he let out through his nose made the guilt in your stomach rise to your chest, tightening around your heart. 
"How can I help?" He whispered, swiping his thumb along your cheek. 
Your head shook, "I'll be fine." You didn't want him worrying over you when you didn't even know what was wrong. Usually, you just waited for it to pass whenever you got like this. 
"Darlin'," He softly warned, "If you want me to leave you alone, I will. But don't lie to me." 
Your eyes welled up at the sincerity in his voice and your voice cracked, "I'm sorry." 
He shushed your apology, swiping your tears with his knuckles, "What on earth do you have to be sorry for?" 
You sniffled, trying to gather your thoughts and your voice before explaining, "For making you worry about me. For not being happy  but not knowing what's wrong or how to fix it. Sometimes I just want to disappear and be swallowed by the couch and - "
"Hey," He muttered, cutting you off from rambling too far. "You don't have to apologize for that." He helped you sit up so he could sit next to you, tucking you into his side. "You're allowed to be sad sometimes, too." 
He held you like that for what felt like an eternity, the sun disappearing behind the horizon, leaving you in almost complete darkness had it not been for the corner light that was on. When you finally pulled yourself away from him, eyes puffy and nose running, you felt lighter. Like a weight had been lifted off your chest and the guilt was no longer wrapped around your heart. 
He helped you wipe your face off, gently cleaning off the tears before he cupped your cheeks. "Better?" 
You nodded, "Kinda." 
He smirked at you, "Let me kiss it all the way better then."
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catindabag · 10 months
Text
TBOSAS on Crack short take (6)
*This ain’t a funeral!* Read [this] first.
Lysistrata: Coryo, that was so beautiful! Your voice was ✨perfection✨.☺️
Coryo: Thanks, Bestie! The Grandma’am had to ✨hit✨ me a lot to make my voice sound like an angel~.💅
Festus: Hit you?😰 What do you mean??
Coryo: My crazy Grandma’am said that I’m not allowed to ✨EAT✨ or ✨SLEEP✨ if I can’t get the tone and lyrics right!☺️
Festus: Coryo, are you okay-
Coryo: Now my voice is perfect!! Lucy Gray Who! My abdomen has never been bruiser- I mean, better.😌
Lysistrata: Coryo, my dear, do you need me to call Child Welfare Services?🥺
Coryo: Child Welfare Services? Does Panem even have such thing? And who’s gonna be the head of that department? Dean Casca Highbottom or Dr.Gaul?
Sejanus: I wish!😡 *glares at Strabo Plinth*
Coryo: Babe, why is your father even here?
Sejanus: He’s going to drive us back to school after-
Strabo: *leans down and whispers to Coryo* Hello, my little son-in-law. How are you?
Coryo: Hello, Father-in-law. I’m fine. Thank you.
Strabo: Do you want to know about the time when your gorgeous father and I went “stargazing” together in the middle of the night?🥰
Coryo: No.
Lysistrata: I want to know!
Festus: Me too!
Strabo: My darling Crassus and I were roommates.😏
Sejanus: Pa, don’t embarrass me in front of my boyfriend!😫
Strabo: But-
Sejanus: Go away or wait in the car!
Strabo: Strabo is sad now.😞
Sejanus: Goodbye, schemer.
Strabo: Goodbye, my idiot heir.
Sejanus: Shoo.
Strabo: See you later, Little Snow.
Coryo: Father-in-law, can you buy 3 gallons of peppermint ice cream and 2 boxes of spinach pizza on the way out? I’m hungry.
Strabo: Anything for Little Snow.😊
Coryo: Thanks.
Festus: Yo, Coryo, can you also ask old Mr. Plinth if he could buy us burgers and fries-
Coryo: No.
Festus: *turns to Sejanus* Bestie, can you ask your old man to buy us burgers and fries?
Sejanus: No.
Festus: Pretty please?🥺🙏
Sejanus: My Coryo said no.
Festus: But I want burgers and fries!😭
Arachne: *on a hospital bed with a neck brace* Oi! Oi, idiots! Why are you even here?! Visiting hours are over!
Coryo: To be fair, the doctors said that we can have a sleepover-
Arachne: Inside my hospital room?! Are you crazy?! I told the school that I’m not dying! Dammit!😡
Sejanus: Our dearest Felix Ravinstill told us to visit and sing you the ✨Gem of Panem✨, Arachne~.☺️
Festus: He’s so considerate.
Arachne: Well, tell our stupid Class President to suck ass and leave me be!
Lysistrata: Why?🥺
Arachne: Because Gem of F*ckin’ Panem is only sung in good or bad occasions!
Coryo: This occasion is pretty good to me-
Arachne: It’s not my freaking wedding or funeral, you dumbass!
Festus: To be fair, me, Lizzie, and Coryo are only here for the food.😋
Coryo: Your evil mom’s apple pie is to die for.
Arachne: But why is idiot Plinth even here?!
Sejanus: I’m Coryo’s sugar daddy- I mean, boyfriend. So. . .
Arachne: Get the f*ck out.
Lysistrata: *pulls out a camera from her bag* Can’t do that. Sejanus and I were tasked by Felix to take pictures. So smile-
Arachne: Get that f*ckin’ camera off my face!
Coryo: Nope. Felix said that as the Class President, it is his duty to prove that you’re still alive and kicking-
Arachne: Get out.
Lysistrata: What was that? We can’t seem to hear-
Arachne: GET OUT!!🤬🔪
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