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violetrainbow412-blog · 1 year ago

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A fair payment [W. W.]

Willy Wonka x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

People who might be interested: @strugglingwriterwattpad @cattail5 [Timothée masterlist]

some minor Wonka spoilers I guess! If you like it, tell me in the comments, that will make me happy :)

“Can you mend it?” Willy asked, carefully holding his emerald green jacket that had the sleeve seam torn.

The boy had arrived a couple of weeks ago to turn the world of everyone present in the laundry upside down and, honestly, you were already beginning to enjoy his presence. You looked in the background at the blackboard that Noodle used at night to give him lessons in the hope that he would learn to read because, according to the girl's words, because of that he was almost eaten by a tiger. But in the man's words, what was important was the almost part.

However, tonight he had asked you especially to go to his room, because he had a problem that he thought only you could solve.

“I think so, I just have to pass the needle a couple of times” you smiled.

Since your arrival Mrs. Scrubbit had used your sewing skills for her own benefit, because after all you had ended up in that mess trying to save a little to be able to buy the necessary materials to make a pretty dress that would be worth enough to advance in the business. Although, obviously, that had not been possible.

"Thank you! I'm afraid that's my only jacket."

“It will be ready in no time. I’ll just go to my room and come back, okay?” you said kindly, placing the garment in the boy's lap and earning a sweet smile from the aforementioned.

Just as Willy had his little briefcase for his chocolates, you had your own, full of threads, needles, and buttons, which you just had to grab from the floor to get everything you needed. When you arrived back you settled at the little table and he remained attentive to your every movement, pulling out a chair so he could observe what you were about to do.

“There was a boy on the ship who helped me with these things,” he began to tell you, keeping his curious nose on your shoulder “But I never thought about learning. You know, for when I had to be alone”

“Well, it's lucky you ended up here. We are a curious collection of workers,” you murmured ironically, referring to all the people gathered there against their will by the work of fate "What did you do on the ship?"

"Cook. Mostly sweet things, but I also know a couple of useful non-chocolate-related recipes. I was the chef,” he said, and you laughed at the exaggerated way he pronounced the last bit.

Willy began to tell you about some of the adventures he had had on the high seas and you listened attentively as the tip of the needle went in and out to join the fabric. It only took a few minutes to get his clothes looking like new, taking the liberty of repairing other places that also needed it.

“Put it on,” you asked, trying not to look at him too much when he did so or pay attention to the way the jacket fit him perfectly.

"It is perfect! You can't even tell it was torn, huh?” he said with emotion, feeling with his hands as much as he could. “How much do I owe you?”

“Oh, it's nothing.”

“I insist,” the man murmured. His curly hair bounced across his cheeks as he sat next to you and he lifted his small briefcase off the floor, opening it to reveal all the little bottles of ingredients. “Your talent for mine. It's a fair exchange."

You had to admit that the chocolates you had eaten were a complete delicacy, but a part of you didn't want to get used to that luxury or you knew that when Willy was gone you would miss his sweetness. In the literal and figurative sense.

Locked in that laundry it was impossible to meet many people your age and Noodle was your greatest company, as if he were a little sister to you. But now that he was there, there was a certain happiness in chatting with him, much more now that his ingenious mind had devised a way to get you out of there even if it was just for a few hours to see the light of day and get coins from the sale of the chocolates to free you of the enormous debt to Mrs. Scrubbit.

“What flavor do you want to try today? Do you want me to add some unicorn skin glitter? Rays of sunlight from a twilight on the seashore? Tears of an African crocodile?”

“Just give me something you think I need,” you replied softly.

Willy thought about it for a moment, because it wasn't the kind of answer he would have expected. What was he supposed to give you that night? A little hope? Happiness? Nostalgia? It was difficult to decide.

Through his bright eyes you watched him reflect and just a second later his hands began to work. You noticed there was a hint of mischief in his smile as he poured milk, chocolate, and the contents of a couple of jars into the processor, glancing at you from the corner of his eye from time to time.

“What are you going to do when we get out of here?” he asked suddenly, not neglecting the tasks.

“Working in a sewing workshop, I guess.”

“Why don't you open your own fashion house?” Willy suggested carefreely, as if it were a very easy thing to do, “You are a great dressmaker.”

“And you are a great dreamer”

“It's my best quality,” he exclaimed, almost offended. You waited a moment before answering.

“I just don't think it's that simple. It requires effort, time, and a lot of money…”

“We will have everything,” he interrupted you, with that optimism that characterized him. Suddenly he stopped what he was doing and one of his hands traveled to take yours. “When I open my factory, we will all be able to fulfill our dreams. And you are going to have a fashion house, I promise you.”

“You make a lot of promises,” you responded, blushing.

“And he planned to fulfill them all. I always do it"

Maybe there was something about the softness of his grip on your hand or perhaps the sparkle in his eyes that made you look away out of sheer nervousness. He seemed to be good and innocent, to the point that he probably didn't even realize how close he was to you or how inappropriate the position would be if Noodle ever walked in.

A tap interrupted your moment and then he abruptly pulled away, excited to show you the product he had just made. It was a pretty circular candy that was bright pink and seemed to be emanating smoke from the inside.

"What's that?"

“You'll have to try it to find out,” he murmured, as he extended the treat in your direction.

You had to admit that you were somewhat curious to discover what the man was offering you, so you took it between your fingers carefully, and even under his watchful gaze you took a bite.

At first it tasted like ordinary chocolate, but then it took on a strange tone, which made you feel a certain warmth in your chest that spread to your cheeks. It was a most pleasant feeling, like bubbly joy combined with the embarrassment of a hug.

You thought for a moment about what flavor that could be, without any success, until after a few seconds you realized that it wasn’t a flavor in itself, but a feeling, an experience... Was it love that Willy had given you?

“How does it taste?”

“Yummy,” you responded, covering your mouth so he wouldn’t see the wet chocolate on your tongue, but also to hide your smile “Delicious, actually. What does it contain?”

“A special and secret ingredient”

"Oh, come on! Aren’t you going to tell me?”

“I just want to know if I got it right,” he murmured and you frowned slightly, not understanding him “About what you asked for. Did I give you something you needed?”

You had to bite your lip to keep from smiling again, your cheeks feeling hot from the simple fact that he was looking at you. You thought that this could even be a love potion that you had consumed without thinking about it, just because he was the one who was offering it to you.

“We could say yes”

“We're even, then,” he exclaimed as he waved the sleeve of his jacket and you nodded in amusement, eating the rest of the chocolate he had made for you.

A yawn leaving your lips made you aware of how exhausted you were and although you didn't love the idea, you knew it was time to leave.

“It's late, I should go to sleep before we wake anyone up.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Willy said quickly, getting up from his seat to accompany you to the exit. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Rest,” you said kindly, and, gathering courage, you leaned forward a little to say goodbye with a hug that he gladly returned.

As you walked down the hall to your shabby, damp room, you thought that it probably wouldn't have even taken a love potion to fall for the charms of the pleasant chocolatier. You just needed one of his smiles.

#wonka 2023 #willy wonka x reader #wonka x reader #wonka movie #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #willy wonka #roald dahl #wonka fanfic #willy wonka 2023 #wonka fanfiction #wonka x fem reader

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pucksandpower · 2 months ago

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Suck Him Dry

Day 3 → Oral Fixation 💋 Charles Leclerc

Warnings: 18+ content

Kinktober Masterlist

The room is dark, the kind of deep, enveloping darkness that sinks into your bones. The only light comes from a sliver of moonlight peeking through the heavy curtains, casting shadows that dance lazily across the ceiling. Charles is breathing softly beside you, his chest rising and falling with a steady rhythm that, on any other night, might lull you back to sleep.

But tonight is different. Your mind is restless, thoughts spinning in circles, too fast and too loud to let you sleep.

You stare up at the ceiling, your eyes tracing the shadows. You don’t know how long you’ve been awake — minutes, maybe hours. Time loses meaning when you're stuck inside your own head.

You feel like you’re trapped in a loop, a constant replay of every worry, every doubt, every little thing that could possibly go wrong. It’s exhausting, but there’s no way out. Not tonight, at least.

Beside you, Charles stirs. You freeze, holding your breath, hoping you haven't woken him up. But then you feel his hand slide over, warm and reassuring, finding yours in the darkness. He squeezes your hand gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“Can’t sleep?” His voice is soft, rough with sleep, but there’s a thread of concern woven through it.

You shake your head, even though you know he can’t see you. “No,” you whisper. “I’m just … stuck in my head again.”

Charles hums, a low sound that vibrates through the silence. He turns onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow to look at you. Even in the dark, you can feel the weight of his gaze, steady and unwavering.

“What’s going on in there?” He asks gently, tapping your temple with his finger.

You sigh, closing your eyes. “Everything. Nothing. I don’t know.”

“Hmm.” He’s quiet for a moment, just watching you. Then he shifts closer, his hand moving to rest on your hip, his thumb brushing back and forth in a soothing motion. “You need something to get you out of your head,” he says quietly.

You don’t respond. It’s not like you haven’t tried everything already — reading, counting sheep, focusing on your breathing. Nothing works.

Charles seems to understand. He leans in, his breath warm against your ear. “I have an idea,” he murmurs. “But you have to trust me.”

You open your eyes, turning your head to look at him. There’s a glimmer of something in his eyes, something tender and a little mischievous. You nod slowly. “Okay. I trust you.”

A slow smile spreads across his face. “Good.” He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Come here,” he says, tugging you gently toward him.

You follow his lead, letting him guide you until your head is resting against his thigh. He strokes your hair gently, his touch soothing. “Just relax,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you.”

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. Charles shifts, his hand moving to cup the back of your head, guiding you further down. You feel the warmth of him against your cheek, the soft fabric of his boxers brushing against your skin.

“Open your mouth,” he says softly.

You do as he says, parting your lips. He guides you with gentle pressure, and you take him into your mouth, the familiar taste and feel of him grounding you in a way that nothing else does. You close your eyes, letting out a slow breath through your nose as you begin to suck gently.

Charles lets out a low groan, his hand tightening in your hair. “That’s it, just like that,” he murmurs. “You’re doing so well, mon amour.”

You focus on the sound of his voice, the gentle praise in his tone, and the steady rise and fall of his chest. You feel yourself start to relax, the tension in your body slowly melting away. The constant buzzing in your head quiets, replaced by the rhythmic motion of your mouth and the soft, reassuring sounds Charles makes above you.

He strokes your hair, his thumb brushing over your temple in a slow, soothing rhythm. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispers. “So perfect. Just keep going, mon cœur.”

You hum softly around him, the vibration drawing a soft curse from his lips. He tugs lightly on your hair, guiding you a little deeper. You take him easily, your jaw relaxing as you find a steady rhythm, each motion smooth and deliberate.

Charles lets out a shaky breath, his hand tightening in your hair again. “God, you feel so good,” he murmurs. “So fucking good. You’re amazing, you know that?”

You don’t respond, but you don’t need to. He knows. He always knows. You focus on the feel of him in your mouth, the steady pressure against your tongue, the way he throbs gently with each pass of your lips. It’s comforting, in a way that’s hard to explain. It’s like everything else fades away, leaving just the two of you in this quiet, intimate moment.

He shifts slightly, his thigh muscles flexing under your cheek. “Are you okay?” He asks softly. “Do you need to stop?”

You shake your head slightly, your mouth still full. You don’t want to stop. Not yet. You need this — the steady, grounding presence of him, the way he makes everything else disappear.

He chuckles softly, his fingers threading through your hair again. “Okay,” he says quietly. “We’ll keep going as long as you need, mon ange.”

You don’t know how long you stay like that — minutes, maybe hours. Time loses meaning when you’re with him like this, when the only thing that matters is the steady rhythm of your mouth and the quiet sounds of his pleasure. You start to feel yourself getting drowsy, the tension in your body melting away completely.

Charles seems to notice. He strokes your hair gently, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “You’re getting tired, aren’t you?” He murmurs.

You hum softly in response, your eyes fluttering closed. He chuckles again, a soft, affectionate sound. “That’s okay,” he says quietly. “Just let yourself fall asleep, mon cœur. I’ve got you.”

You do as he says, letting your eyes close fully. You keep sucking softly, the motion slowing as you start to drift off. Charles hums a soft, soothing tune under his breath, his fingers still moving gently through your hair. You feel yourself slipping into sleep, the last thing you hear is the soft, steady sound of his breathing.

As you fall asleep, still sucking, you feel a sense of peace wash over you. For the first time in what feels like forever, your mind is quiet, your body relaxed. And you know, without a doubt, that as long as Charles is here, you’ll always have a way out of your own head.

***

You wake slowly, consciousness returning like a gentle tide washing over you. The world is soft and quiet, the room bathed in the faint blue light of early morning. For a moment, you’re disoriented, unsure of where you are or why you feel so warm and cocooned. Then you realize your mouth is still full, lips stretched around the familiar weight of Charles.

Your head is still resting on his thigh, and you can feel the solid muscle beneath your cheek. The sheets are warm and heavy around you, cocooning you in the lingering scent of Charles — clean and musky, with a hint of something uniquely him that you’ve come to love. His hand is still tangled in your hair, his fingers relaxed but still holding onto you, as if even in sleep, he doesn’t want to let you go.

Blinking your eyes open, you adjust to the dim light. Charles is still asleep, his chest rising and falling with each deep, even breath. You can feel his thigh move slightly under your cheek with each inhale, the slow rhythm of his breathing a comforting reminder that he’s here, right here with you. You don’t want to wake him, but you can’t help the way your tongue instinctively moves, brushing against the sensitive underside of him.

He stirs, letting out a soft sigh in his sleep, his grip on your hair tightening for just a moment before relaxing again. The sound sends a rush of heat through you, pooling low in your belly. You can feel him harden in your mouth, his body responding even in sleep. It’s intoxicating, the way you can affect him like this, the way he trusts you so completely, even when he’s not awake.

You shift slightly, adjusting your position under the sheets. Your lips tighten around him, your tongue pressing more firmly against the sensitive spot that makes him shiver. His breathing hitches, a soft groan escaping his lips. He’s still asleep, but his body knows you, recognizes your touch and responds to it.

Encouraged, you start to move more deliberately, sucking gently, your head bobbing in a slow, steady rhythm. The taste of him floods your mouth, salty and intoxicating, and you can’t help the way your body reacts. Heat blooms between your thighs, a low, insistent ache that makes you press your legs together, trying to find some relief.

But you don’t stop, don’t even slow down. If anything, you speed up, eager to taste more of him, to coax him awake with your mouth.

Charles groans again, louder this time, his hand tightening in your hair. “Merde,” he mutters, his voice rough with sleep. You feel him stir, his body shifting slightly as he wakes. “What …” His voice trails off into a low moan as you take him deeper, your lips stretching around him as you suck harder.

“Fuck, mon amour …” His voice is thick with sleep and something else — something deeper, more primal. You can hear the way his breathing changes, growing faster, more uneven. He’s fully awake now, and you can feel his body tense under yours, his muscles tightening as he tries to hold back.

You don’t let him. You move faster, sucking harder, your tongue working against him with a practiced ease that you know drives him crazy. He groans, his hips jerking up involuntarily, pushing himself deeper into your mouth. “God, you’re … you’re perfect,” he mutters, his voice barely more than a breathless whisper. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop …”

You hum around him, the sound vibrating through your throat and sending a shiver down his spine. His reaction spurs you on, and you take him deeper, your throat relaxing to accommodate him. He curses softly in French, his fingers tightening in your hair, guiding you with a gentle but insistent pressure.

“Just like that,” he breathes. “Mon dieu, just like that. You’re doing so good, so fucking good …”

You moan softly around him, the sound muffled by his length filling your mouth. The taste of him, the heat of his skin against your lips, the way he reacts to your every touch — it’s intoxicating, overwhelming. You feel yourself growing wetter, the ache between your thighs intensifying with every passing second.

Charles lets out a low groan, his hips bucking up slightly as he nears his release. “I’m close,” he warns, his voice strained. “Fuck, I’m so close …”

You don’t stop, don’t slow down. You want this — you want to taste him, to feel him lose control in your mouth. You suck harder, your tongue swirling around him with a renewed fervor. He lets out a strangled moan, his grip on your hair tightening almost painfully as he finally lets go.

He comes with a shuddering groan, his hips jerking up as he spills into your mouth. The taste of him floods your senses, warm and slightly salty, and you swallow eagerly, not wanting to waste a single drop. He groans again, softer this time, his body trembling with the force of his release.

But you don’t stop. Even as he starts to soften in your mouth, you keep going, your lips and tongue working with a steady, unrelenting rhythm. He lets out a surprised gasp, his hand tightening in your hair again.

“Mon amour, what are you …” His voice trails off into a moan as you suck harder, your tongue flicking against the sensitive underside of him. “Fuck, I-I can’t …”

You don’t listen. You don’t want to. You want to taste every last drop of him, to drain him of everything he has to offer. You feel a surge of satisfaction as he starts to harden again, his body responding to your insistent touch.

“Jesus, you’re insatiable,” he mutters, his voice thick with a mix of awe and arousal. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?”

You hum around him, your lips curving into a small, satisfied smile. You can feel him starting to tremble beneath you, his body on the edge of overstimulation. But you don’t stop. You can’t. You want more — need more.

Charles groans, his hips twitching as he tries to pull away. “I … I can’t, it’s too much …”

But you don’t let him. You wrap your arms around his hips, holding him in place as you suck harder, your tongue pressing against the sensitive spot that you know will drive him crazy. He lets out a choked moan, his body tensing under yours as he teeters on the edge of another release.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck …” He’s barely coherent now, his words slurred with pleasure and overstimulation. “Please, I … I can’t. I’m gonna …”

He comes again, harder this time, his body convulsing with the force of his release. You swallow every drop, your lips never leaving him, even as he starts to soften once more. He’s trembling now, his body twitching with aftershocks, but you don’t let up.

Charles gasps, his hand weakly pushing at your shoulder. “Mon amour, please … I can’t — it’s too much …”

But you don’t stop. You suck harder, your tongue working against him with a desperate, insistent rhythm. You’re close now, so close, the taste of him pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You can feel the tension building in your core, a tight coil that’s ready to snap.

He groans, his voice hoarse with pleasure and exhaustion. “Please, I … I need you to stop, I can’t take it …”

But you’re too far gone to listen. You’re on the edge, teetering on the brink of release, and you can’t stop, not now. You suck harder, your tongue pressing against him in a way that makes him shudder.

And then you’re there, the tension finally snapping as your orgasm crashes over you in a wave of pleasure. You moan around him, your body shaking with the force of it, your mouth never leaving him. You keep sucking, keep licking, riding out your orgasm as you drain him of everything he has to offer.

Charles gasps, his body going limp beneath you as he finally gives in, his head falling back against the pillow. “Merde …” he mutters, his voice barely more than a breathless whisper. “You’re … you’re incredible …”

You hum softly in response, your body still trembling with aftershocks. You finally pull away, your lips releasing him with a soft pop. You rest your head against his thigh, your eyes closed as you try to catch your breath.

He strokes your hair gently, his touch soothing. “Are you okay?” He asks softly. “Did I … did I hurt you?”

You shake your head, a small, contented smile spreading across your lips. “No,” you whisper. “I’m perfect.”

He chuckles softly, his fingers still moving through your hair. “That you are, mon ange. That you are.”

You let out a soft sigh, your body relaxing completely against him. You feel a deep sense of satisfaction, a contentment that you haven’t felt in a long time. For the first time in what feels like forever, your mind is quiet, your body at peace.

Charles hums softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “I love you,” he murmurs. “So much.”

You smile, your eyes still closed. “I love you too,” you whisper. “More than anything.”

He chuckles again, a soft, affectionate sound. “Good,” he says quietly. “Because I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

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officialaemondtargaryen · 5 months ago

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Dinner & Diatribes

❝i knew it from the first look of mischief in your eye.❞

Summary: You both swiped right and suddenly you're standing in a stranger's kitchen while he makes you spaghetti.

Pairing: Modern Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: 5.2k

Author’s Note: this might be the most self-indulgent fic i've ever written, so fair warning. also, thank you tom, who inspired this by saying that dinner & diatribes would be aegon's hozier song. it's just true. anyways, this was really fun to write.

Warnings: language, recreational drug use, alcohol use, fluff, intense sexual situations (including: oral sex - female receiving, sexual intercourse - p in v), just two single people who are horny, more fluff, aegon being so cute that i couldn't stop smiling the whole time i was writing this.

It was precisely 9:39 PM on a Tuesday.

You were sitting cross-legged on your couch, nose deep in a fresh murder mystery that you had been working through for the last two days. There was a lit joint between your fingers that you were nursing, taking little hits so that it wouldn’t completely burn out, and on the cushion next to you, your phone softly vibrates and lights up; a familiar icon flashes across the screen and you can easily make out the words, “It’s a Match” from the corner of your eye.

It’d been a regular occurrence since you had downloaded that accursed app.

You’d been single for far too long, according to your best friend, though you hadn’t really noticed. The sweet silence of a solitary life was something that you had enjoyed for the most part. It wasn’t even like your online dating life had really taken off, either. You’d get matches but hardly anyone would reach out in any way that made you feel like they were serious. They wanted your Snapchat username, or they were in an ‘open’ relationship or asking for a threesome, and one guy even asked if you would send him pictures of your feet. Even some of the ones you thought were serious about taking you out- or even just hooking up- would end up ghosting you before anything actually happened.

“It’s not supposed to be serious,” you could hear your friend’s words rattling around in your brain. You shake your head and focus once again on your book; they have a suspect, it’s the best friend! How fitting.

Once again, your phone lights up and vibrates. Not wanting to be distracted from the plot, you ignore your new match and get back to your mystery with anticipation; the best friend is about to confess. You go to take another hit of your joint and frown upon realizing it’s burnt out. As you move to grab your lighter, in comes another message, and another, and another. You stop what you’re doing and pick up your phone, swiping at the screen until you find the culprit. He’s known only as Aegon T, and according to the one sentence he has written on his profile, he has a dog. You swipe through his pictures- the dog is a golden retriever, the man looks like a golden retriever.

In the message thread, he’s basically talking to himself.

There’s four new messages waiting for you, while three little dots begin flashing at the bottom of the screen; disappearing and reappearing as you read what he’s already sent.

“So, I’m high.”

“And I am making spaghetti… and it’s really good.”

“At least I hope it’s really good, it could just be the weed…”

“I could use a taste-tester, if you’re up for it? I can’t pay you or anything, but it’s honest work 😏”

Aegon begins typing again and you watch the screen, a smirk on your lips. You are 99% sure that the spaghetti is truly an innuendo for what he really wants and have half a heart to just block him, but you watch as those little gray dots continue in the bottom left corner of the screen; he’s going back and forth with himself and you can’t help but find it oddly cute. Your fingers hover over the keyboard as you contemplate a witty response, but before you can even begin typing, he sends a fifth message.

“That was weird as fuck, right?”

Then a sixth.

“You probably don’t want to come over to some random guy’s house on a Tuesday.”

He finishes up with a seventh message.

“Unless you do…”

He almost sends an apology. After all, what's another message? He’s already fucked this whole thing up; not even giving himself a chance before he nose-dived. If he was being honest, he should just go ahead and delete his whole account; save you from secondhand embarrassment and save himself from repeating the same mistake again in the future. He sets the phone down on the kitchen counter and goes back to ripping bong hits to calm his nerves. Though, he’s unable to keep himself from checking his phone for a response; a response that likely wasn’t going to come and he’d spend the rest of his night feeling like a complete idiot.

Seven back-to-back messages should have screamed ‘red flag’, but you’re glancing at the clock as if you were seriously contemplating taking this stranger up on his offer. After all, you do have needs just as much as the next person. But, you’re wearing a sweatshirt and a pair of pajama shorts, your hair’s a mess, and you were covered in the crumbs of your munchie snacks. Meaning, you were nowhere close to being prepared for what was sure to happen between you and this random stoner offering you dinner.

Yet, you respond to him, “I could never turn down spaghetti”.

Aegon’s stirring the sauce when he gets your message. He’s instantly elated, thrusting a celebratory fist into the air. His fingers fly across the keyboard swiftly, sending another quick message, “Atta girl 🙃 My place is on the corner of 9th and 51st, above Jasper’s.”

“Be there soon,” you reply with haste.

It was apartment #4 and you made sure to text your friend the address, and given name of your potential murderer, and also share your location for her to keep an eye out. She says all you have to do is text her at any time if you need her to call and bail you out with a fake emergency. All she asks in return is for you to have fun and let her know if you are planning on spending the night- which was an idea that you weren’t opposed to, but it wasn’t something you were planning on.

You’re nervous as you stand outside of the door to his apartment, fist hovering for a moment. Now’s the time to make a fast exit- you haven’t met him, you could turn around right now and never meet him. You could wake up alive in the morning, safe in your own bed. Or, you can knock on the door and have what might be a really nice spaghetti dinner with a really nice guy. Hell, he could even be the love of your life and in fifty years you’ll both look back on this day and laugh about how you met on Tinder and how you were stupid enough to go to his house and not a public place.

Finally, you knock.

Aegon puts the lid back on his spaghetti sauce and shuffles into the living room. Sunfyre is on the couch with his ears perked; his tail’s wagging and he’s panting eagerly, waiting patiently to meet this new visitor. Aegon whispers over to him, “wish me luck,” and thinks to himself, please don’t be a catfish, please don’t be a catfish, please don’t be a catfish. He peers through the peephole when he approaches the door and there you are, a sigh of relief deflates his chest.

“Oh, thank God,” you can hear him say as the door swings open. His accent is surprisingly British. “You’re real.”

The very first thing that you notice are his eyes. They’re piercing; somehow blue and lavender at the same time– the color of a warm, summer sunrise and they’re crinkling at the edges as he smiles. He’s wearing a pair of dark gray sweats and a pale green hoodie, and the only word that comes to mind when you look at him is warmth. He’s somehow more attractive in person than he is in the pictures on his profile, which you didn’t think was possible, but he’s standing right in front of you and you can’t help but think to yourself, he doesn’t look like a murderer.

Then again, neither did Ted Bundy.

Aegon stands there for a moment, just staring at you, unable to do anything else. His words escape him, he can barely even breathe. You look exactly the same as your pictures; even without the makeup and even in the shitty, fluorescent overhead lights of the hallway. Even in a sweatshirt and pajama shorts, you’re stunning. He’s having a hard time believing that you actually showed up and he doesn’t realize that he’s been staring for much too long until you shrug back at him.

“Did you think I wasn’t?” You ask with creased brows and a lopsided smile.

The corners of his lips pull upwards as he looks at you, “I don’t know. You’re just so beautiful, I’m still not entirely convinced you aren’t some sort of hologram… or a robot.”

“Wow, you’re pretty smooth,” you say with a playful smirk, desperately trying to keep your composure— trying to play it cool, hoping that he hasn’t caught on to the fact that you’re secretly spiraling, because it took all of one smile and one compliment and you were done for. “But, I’ll have you know that flattery won’t work on me. I’m here for the spaghetti and the spaghetti alone.”

“My apologies,” Aegon says with a chuckle as he holds his hands up defensively. “Right this way, then.”

He steps to the side, allowing you to enter his apartment, and shuts the door behind you. It’s nice, clean, smells like fresh baked bread and tomato sauce. There’s niche artwork adorning the walls, he’s got candles burning, and there’s some lowkey, downtempo R&B playing softly in the background. He quickly moves past you and disappears into the kitchen, leaving you to follow him.

However, before you can take all of two steps into his apartment, a flash of golden fur is suddenly at your hip, pawing for attention. You drop down to a knee and happily accept any and all kisses from the pup. “Oh! Hi, what’s your name?”

Aegon sticks his head around the corner and says, “That is Sunfyre. In case you were wonderin’, he’s a very good judge of character and I will be consultin’ with him later where you’re concerned, fair warning.”

You roll your eyes and scratch behind Sunfyre’s ears, his tail thumps in approval.

“Would you like something to drink?” He continues and disappears back into the kitchen. “I’ve got wine and bottled water. Oh, and milk?” There’s a rustling in the kitchen before Aegon adds with a nervous chuckle, “scratch that, there is no milk.”

You politely excuse yourself from Sunfyre and step into the small dining room off of the kitchen.

There’s a grin on your lips, which you pursed so that he doesn’t think you’re laughing at him. Sunfyre joins the two of you and circles around his owner’s legs as Aegon empties an almost full half-gallon of milk down the drain. His kitchen is small but looks to be well used, which you appreciate. You know almost nothing about this man, other than his name- if ‘Aegon’ was even his real name- and the name of his dog, and yet here you were, standing in the threshold of his kitchen with a strange sense of comfortability as if you had been lifelong pals.

“Water is fine,” you tell him.

He produces a bottle of water from his fridge and tosses it over to you with ease and goes back to the stove. You step further into the kitchen, taking in your surroundings. The kitchen, like the living room, is covered in artwork and vintage decor- things you’d only find in some obscure thrift store or estate sale. On the refrigerator are a collection of magnets from different cities and countries, real touristy type shit. Some of them even had names on them; Alexander, Aaron, Alistair, Alan, Adolf.

Maybe these are the names of people he’s killed.

“You travel a lot?” You ask, trying to keep the conversation going.

“I try to,” he says from over his shoulder as he continues to stir the sauce. You can hear him set the lid back on the pot. “Most of those are from my sister, Helaena. She thinks it’s hilarious to give me magnets with random ‘A’ names since you’ll never find the name Aegon on any of those,” he says from behind you. He’s leaning against the counter with a half glass of wine. You quirk an eyebrow at him, not fully convinced. “She has a few from me that say Helen.”

“Is that her?” You ask, finger pointing to a pretty blonde in one of the many photographs he had pinned up.

He nods and takes a step closer to you. He’s so close that you can feel his warmth, smell his aftershave. The proximity causes you to blush and he smirks in response, leaning over your shoulder as he points to the other people in the pictures. “Those two are my little brothers, Aemond and Daeron,” he claims and then points to two women. “That’s my half-sister, Rhae, and next to her is my mother.”

“The redhead?” You ask surprised, given she didn’t look like she could be old enough to have four grown children. He nods and takes a step back, leaning against the counter with half-lidded eyes and a tipsy blush. “She looks like she could be your sister,” you say softly, turning back to glance at all of the faces; he seemed proud of his family, like they were very close.

You turn away from the fridge and lean against the counter at his side. It’s quiet for a moment, save for the music and the sound of boiling water where the noodles were cooking. You look at him and the corners of your lips can’t help but twist up into a shy smile, but you bite at the inside of your cheek out of nervous habit. He props himself up on his elbows, taking a sip of his wine, clearly comfortable with the silence.

“So,” you look up at him and his little smirk grows. “About the job…”

“Ah, yes,” he nods. “As I stated earlier, I won’t be able to pay you a monetary wage, but the position does come with a benefits package.”

“And what exactly would this benefits package include?” There’s an innocent flirtatiousness in your voice that only adds to the tension.

“Outside of the free gourmet meals that I would be providin’ to ya, which is obviously the most important part,” he smiles and steps to the side to grab a spoon from the drawer and holds it out to you. Your fingers softly close around his as you pluck the utensil from his grasp. He clears his throat to distract from the fact that he was visibly flustered from the slight touch. “There’s also unlimited cuddle sessions,” before he can finish, you shoot him a look. “With Sunfyre, of course! He’s the real boss ‘round here, after all.”

“Cuddling with the boss?” You quirk an eyebrow and look down at the golden retriever, his eyes round and gleaming; clearly waiting for a hand-out. “Sounds like a conflict of interest to me.”

“Well, if it’s a conflict of interest you’re worried about,” he counters quickly with a soft yet playful tone. “I s’pose we could renegotiate the terms of the agreement and you could have me instead.”

“I’m listening.”

“He might be better at cuddling for obvious reasons and he might be better lookin’,” Aegon continues. “But, I give better backrubs. I mean, I have thumbs and he don’t. You can’t give decent backrubs without thumbs, can you? Plus, he’s a sloppy kisser.”

“Oh, you’re really trying to sweeten the deal now, huh? Backrubs and kisses? I must admit, that is quite a compelling offer,” you muse. “It seems my decision hinders on whether or not you can actually cook, wouldn’t want to accept the position blindly, now would I?”

“Are ya doubtin’ my skills?” He asked playfully.

“No offense, but you possess the aura of someone who could fuck up a can of Spaghettios,” you tell him with a sincere smile. “So, forgive me if I don't get my hopes up.”

Aegon laughs and it’s a warm and infectious sound that fills the kitchen. It’s genuine, as is his perfect smile. You can’t seem to keep yourself from staring; eyes softly tracing every detail of his face– from his full, pink pout, to the scar above his right eyebrow, and the dimple of his chin– thinking to yourself that you’ve never seen a man more beautiful. His smile turns back into a smirk as he notices you staring at his lips and you look up to meet his eyes. There’s something about the way he looks at you that leaves you feeling vulnerable. His gaze softens as you look away, turning your attention back to the spaghetti sauce on the stove in front of you to distract yourself from the blush creeping up your neck.

There’s only one way this night ends.

It was obvious before you even left your house and it was certainly obvious now.

“Go on, then,” he prods, motioning to the pot on the stovetop.

His eyes are wide with anticipation as you dip into the simmering sauce, stirring it a few times before bringing the spoon to your lips. He’s nervous; it’s his mother’s recipe– one he’s spent years perfecting– but with his luck, you will most likely think it’s steaming garbage. Yet, he watches intently; holding his breath as your perfect lips curl to blow softly, cooling the sauce before you finally taste it.

The moment the spoon touches your tongue, you're determined to remain impartial. After all, you’ve had your fair share of disappointing meals from men who’ve claimed to be great cooks. Aegon certainly could be the very latest and you wouldn’t be at all surprised. So, you keep your expectations low, and try your hardest to remain stoic, but as the flavors begin to unfold, you can feel your resolve wavering.

It’s good. Better than most.

Reluctantly, you have to admit that this is the second-best sauce you’ve ever had, right after your grandmother’s. You glance up at Aegon, who’s watching you with a mix of anxiety and hope, and you can’t help but smile.

“I have to give it to you,” you say, your voice betraying a hint of admiration. “This is incredible. Almost as good as my grandmother’s.”

The relief and pride that spread across his face makes your heart flutter.

“Yeah?” He asks with a toothy grin.

“I’m still not completely convinced that you can actually cook, but you can– at the very least– make some top-notch spaghetti sauce,” you tell him as you place your spoon to the side.

“Top-notch, eh?” He asks playfully as he begins plating your meal. “I’ll take it.”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” you say to him with a laugh. “It’s just spaghetti sauce.”

“Just spaghetti sauce? Don’t let my mum hear you say that,” he says with a smirk, setting a full plate in front of you on the counter. “I guess I’ll just have to work extra hard on the next one.”

“Assuming there will be a next one,” you reply, tone dripping with playful sarcasm. “Though, you have set the bar pretty high tonight. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Well,” he murmurs as he steps closer, his body brushing against yours as he reaches around you to grab a plate. His lips are hovering above the shell of your ear, his voice low and teasing, causing your cheeks to immediately flush as the heat between the two of you intensifies. “I’m nothing if not a perfectionist.”

For a split second you expect for him to lean in for a kiss. Your heart is simultaneously skipping beats and racing at the same time; your breath catching in your throat as he leans in— But then he smirks, grabbing the plate and taking a step backwards. He’s doing it on purpose, you realize; his proximity expertly calculated to keep you on edge. You look up at him with wide, sparkling eyes and he knows he’s got you right where he wants you. The soft blush of your cheeks has his blood pumping and sends a surge of adrenaline through him. He’s trying his absolute best to play it cool but the way you’re biting your lip and looking at him has him unraveling.

“Is that so?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “What other skills do you have up your sleeve?”

His grin widens as he looks down at you, setting his empty plate to the side. His gaze, once again, drops to your lips. “I have a few tricks,” he says softly, his voice filled with promise. “But I doubt you’d believe me if I told you, so how about I just show you?”

“What?” You ask with a playful innocence. “Before dinner?”

“I’m not really in the mood for spaghetti anymore.”

“Oh?” Your smirk is only growing. “What are you in the mood for?”

Aegon says nothing, but a confident grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he rests his hands on your hips. He doesn’t hesitate to pull you in by the waist, until you’re pressed against him and his lips are on yours. The kiss is both gentle and urgent and a little bit awkward, as any first kiss should be. You felt like a teenager again, kissing a boy for the first time– butterflies in your stomach and all.

It takes no time at all for you to find your rhythm with him, and he deepens the kiss, pushing you up onto the kitchen counter to meet his height. Your arms naturally drape across his shoulders, your legs wrap around his middle. He’s completely taken over your mind, filling up every tiny space that he can fit into; the smell of his cologne, the scratch of his stubble against your skin, the feeling of his hands squeezing the flesh of your thighs– his fingertips teasing just underneath the hem of your shorts.

Breathless, he pulls away from you as he pulls your sweatshirt over your head. He stops for a moment to take in the sight of you; clad only in your bra and shorts, lips red and blotchy, swollen and full. You’re looking up at him from under your lashes, softly biting your bottom lip as you wait for him to continue. He gently lifts his hand up to your cheek and traces the curve of your cupid’s bow with his thumb, providing one last show of tenderness before he leans in to capture your lips in another searing kiss.

His touch is suddenly rushed; spreading a wildfire across your skin in the wake of his lips as he rips off the remainder of your clothes. It doesn’t take long at all before you’re sitting exposed on his kitchen counter in only a thong, blushing wildly and covering your face with your hands.

“No– no hiding,” he clicks his tongue and pulls your hands away from your face. “I want to see you.”

He whispers a string of profanities and compliments as his starving eyes roam your figure. Self-doubt creeps into your mind and you momentarily consider making a quick exit, convinced he won’t like what he sees, but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel desired in a way you haven’t felt in a long time.

Aegon’s gaze is electrifying and intense, drawing you in and silencing your negative thoughts instantly. His hands pull you in by the waist, sliding you to the edge of the counter as his lips work their way down your chin and neck; leaving a trail of red marks down to your chest. He hums, smirking as he takes one of your breasts in his mouth. His hand kneads the other, rolling your hardened nipple between two fingers. Your head falls back, lips parted slightly as you breathe out his name.

Each sound he elicits from you urges him on even further until he’s on one knee, looking up at you from his position with those pretty eyes. He runs a hand up the back of your calf, softly teasing you with his fingertips before tossing your leg over his shoulder. You knew where he was going, and yet, you were still surprised as he began placing open mouthed kisses on the inside of your thighs; shivering in anticipation as goosebumps formed on your skin.

“You’re so wet,” he says proudly, praising you.

His eyes are locked with yours as his fingers delicately smooth over your clothed clit. He hooks a finger around the dampened cotton and pulls your thong to the side, groaning at the sight of your perfect pussy. Without wasting another second, Aegon’s mouth is suddenly on you and your hands immediately find the back of his head; fingers curling into the roots of his silver hair.

You roll your hips against his tongue, cursing out as your legs begin to shake. He moans, face still buried deep in you and the vibrations have you writhing. Both of his arms are wrapped around your thighs now, holding you tight to him, not letting up for even a second. Then he stands, lifting you up onto his shoulders. You squeal in shock, holding onto him tightly, but he doesn’t stop; he continues to devour you as he blindly carries you towards his bedroom.

When his knees hit the side of his bed, he tosses you back onto the mattress.

You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch as he strips out of his clothes. . You can see the outline of his arousal; prominent and pressing firmly against the fabric of his sweats. You bite your lip at the sight and he smirks as he catches your stare. His movements are unhurried, giving you ample time to appreciate the sight before you. His hoodie and shirt come off first, then his sweats, and you can’t help but notice the way that his muscles flex with each motion. He’s not overly built, but there’s a solid strength in his frame that is evident in the way he moves.

Outside, headlights from passing cars cast streaks of light and shadows across the walls of his room. It’s quiet, the music in the other room has stopped playing and all you can hear is the sound of your own heart beating in your ears. You swallow thickly, encompassed by the tension of the moment as he crawls up the length of your body; placing tender kisses along your skin. His lips leave a trail of warmth, each touch igniting a spark that travels through your entire body.

When he reaches your face, he pauses, his breath mingling with yours as he hovers just inches away. The anticipation builds, thick and electric in the air between you. His lips find yours in a kiss that starts slow and tender but quickly deepens; fingers threading through your hair as he pulls you closer, his body pressing yours deeper into the plush mattress. Your hands explore his back, tracing the contours of his muscles, feeling the tension and strength beneath his skin and coming to rest on his shoulders; gripping tightly as he continues to worship your body with his mouth. Each kiss, each touch, is deliberate, heightening your senses and pulling you further into the moment.

You curse at the feeling of his girth against your entrance. Your hand moves up to the back of his neck, pulling him down to meet your lips as he presses slowly into you.

“Oh fuck,” he whimpers into the crook of your neck as his arms become weak.

He knows that he won’t last like this; it’s been a while and you feel way too good. He’s slow at first, wanting to steady himself and maintain control, but his rhythm picks up quickly; hips moving with an unrelenting rhythm, each thrust bringing you both closer to the edge. You can feel his muscles tense, his grip on you tightening as he buries his face in your neck. His moans are a mix of pleasure and desperation, and you can tell he’s fighting to hold back.

You tighten your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, feeling the overwhelming need to reach that peak together. His pace quickens, the tension in his body building to a breaking point. You feel the same pressure inside of you mounting before it’s suddenly crashing over you like a wave. He follows seconds later, a low groan escaping his lips as he spills into you. The intensity of the moment leaves you both breathless and clinging to each other, bathing in the afterglow.

“That was incredible,” he murmurs against your skin, head pressed to your chest as you stroke his hair softly. His eyes flutter shut as he listens to the sounds of your heartbeat.

You hum in agreement, smiling to yourself as you savor the peacefulness of the moment.

Suddenly, you’re joined by Sunfyre jumping up on the bed, his tail wagging enthusiastically. You smile at him and pat the empty space next to you, inviting him to join your cuddle session. He eagerly accepts the invitation, circling the bed a few times before snuggling up next to you. Aegon lifts his head and smiles, clearly pleased that you would be so open to having the dog in bed with you. He wraps his arm around both you and Sunfyre, pulling you closer.

“This is perfect,” he says softly, his voice filled with contentment as he lays his head back on your chest.

"So, about that job offer," you say playfully, your fingers tracing patterns along his skin. "I think I'll accept the position. When would you like for me to start?"

He lifts his head to look at you, a playful glint in his eyes. “How about tomorrow night at seven?”

Before you can respond, a distinct burning smell reaches your nose. Your brows furrow as you sniff the air. “Do you smell that?”

Aegon’s eyes widen in realization. “The spaghetti!”

He jumps up from the bed, pulling on his clothes quickly, and scrambles into the kitchen. You follow behind him, tossing one of his t-shirts over your head and meet him in the kitchen.

“I guess I forgot to turn off the burner,” Aegon looks disappointed but then chuckles, shaking his head. He looks at you with a glint in his eye and smirks. “Occupational hazard, I guess.”

“Oh, that sucks!” You laugh, playfully nudging him. “Is it too late to back out of the job now?”

“Way too late for that,” he says as he pulls you into a soft kiss, silencing any doubts immediately. “You’re mine now.”

“Mm,” you hum against his lips. “But I came here for the spaghetti.”

He chuckles and pulls back slightly. “Will you settle for pizza?”

“I’ll settle for anything, as long as it’s with you,” you say with a smile as you wrap your arms around his waist. “And as long as there’s extra cheese!”

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amiableness · 3 months ago

Text

Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 1260 words

this is part one of this blurb! the next part will be smut! this was supposed to one whole blurb, but unfortunately, i can't stop adding details

A week had passed since that toe-curling, heart stopping kiss with James, yet the memory clung to you, refusing to loosen its grip. Every moment replayed in your mind—the way his breath had mingled with yours, the warmth of his lips, the intoxicating mix of hesitation and desire that had crackled between you. It was impossible to shake, no matter how hard you tried to push it to the back of your mind.

But life, as it often does, had intervened. Work had been intense for both of you. His late nights at the office, followed by early morning school drop-offs, and your endless deadlines and marathon meetings had drained you both, leaving little room for anything else—especially the conversation you so desperately needed.

But you were hoping tonight would be different. He’d asked if you could watch Henry, and you’d never refused him before. And you weren’t about to start now.

“Darling?” Henry mumbled, his voice carrying that endearing tone that always made you smile. As he grew older, the nickname was losing its childish lisp, becoming clearer and more deliberate with each passing day. You couldn't let yourself dwell on it, knowing it would bring you to tears. And as much as it weighed on you, you couldn't even begin to imagine how James was feeling.

“Yeah, my love?” You hummed, your eyes still fixed on The Rescuers playing on the TV. Henry had insisted on watching it in James’s room because he wanted to “see the mice all big.” At first, you hesitated, unsure if being surrounded by James’s scent was a good idea. But Henry’s excitement was impossible to resist, and you found yourself giving in, despite your nerves.

“When is daddy back?”

“Um,” You glance at the alarm clock on his nightstand. “Soon I would think.”

“Oh.” Henry murmurs, shifting closer to cuddle into your side, his tiny hand reaching out to grasp yours. The two of you are nestled under the dark duvet, surrounded by the seven stuffed animals he insisted on bringing along. “I miss him,” he whispers, his voice tinged with quiet sadness.

“I’m sure he misses you too.” You say, offering him a gentle smile. He looks up at you with those unmistakable eyes—his father’s eyes—brown and sweet, carrying the same warmth that James’ have. His dark curls fall messily across his forehead, a mirror of James’s unruly hair. Even the curve of his smile, so innocent yet so familiar, pulls at your heart. It’s impossible not to see James in every feature, every expression, and every little gesture Henry makes.

All you can think about is James.

“Do you miss daddy?” Your lips part, flustered and caught off guard by the question. For a second you debate lying, but you realize there’s no point.

“Yes, I miss him too.” You finally murmur, and Henry’s face lights up with a grin, as if he’s just heard the most wonderful thing. He turns his gaze back to the TV, his attention returning to the movie, while he snuggles his stuffed dinosaur tightly in the hand that isn’t holding yours. The sight of him, so content and secure, tugs at your heart.

The movie has long finished and another has begun, but you’re oblivious to it all. Henry is fast asleep, nestled into your side, and you’re not far behind. Your focus is solely on threading your fingers gently through Henry’s dark curls. The rhythmic motion that had soothed him to sleep now lulls you as well, your eyes growing heavy with each tender stroke.

“Hey.” James murmurs with a warm, inviting smile, immediately drawing your gaze to the doorway where he stands. His white button-up shirt is casually open at the collar, the top two buttons undone, revealing a hint of his chest. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and as he crosses his arms, the fabric tightens over his biceps, accentuating their firm definition. Your eyes slowly trace down to his forearms, where the veins are subtly prominent. The combination of his relaxed stance and the his snug shirt makes your pulse quicken.

You resist the urge to fan yourself.

You swallow hard, struggling to pull your gaze back up. “Hi,” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

He grins, and you know instantly he’s caught you. “What are you two doing in here?” He asks, walking further into his room, glancing down at the stuffies with a soft chuckle

“Henry missed you,” You say softly. “That and he wanted to watch a movie on the big TV.”

“Of course he did.” James says with a soft, knowing tone. He rounds the bed and settles next the side closest to Henry. With a gentle touch, he brushes a few stray curls from his son's forehead, his fingers lingering for a moment. Then, leaning down, he places a tender kiss on Henry’s forehead.

“I’m going to put him to bed.” James says softly, his voice soft as he looks up at you from his kneeling position by the bed. You nod quickly, your words caught in your throat.

You watch as James moves with practiced ease, sliding one hand tenderly behind Henry’s back and slipping the other under his knees. He lifts him carefully, his movements gentle yet confident, raising Henry up and off your chest. As he does, Henry lets out a soft whine, his small face scrunching up in a mix of sleepiness and longing. With a tiny, outstretched arm, he reaches toward you, his fingers stretching as far as they can go, desperate to grab you.

“No.” He huffs, his eyes opening the tiniest bit to glance up at his dad.

“It’s bedtime.” James says softly, drawing Henry close to his chest and gently reaching down to grab the stuffed dinosaur Henry clings to.

“No! But I—” Henry protests, wriggling in James’s arms. He twists around, casting a desperate look over his shoulder at you. “I want mummy.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and your eyes dart to James, wide with shock. He mirrors your surprise. With one arm securely wrapped around Henry’s squirming body, he struggles to keep his son from wriggling free. Henry’s little face is flushed with frustration, his eyes locked onto yours as he reaches out with tiny, pleading hands, desperate for your comfort.

“Do you want to say goodnight to mum before bed?” James asks quietly, leaning down to speak into Henry’s ear. Henry stops squirming instantly and nods. Gently, James places his son back onto the bed, and Henry immediately flings himself at you, wrapping his arms around your neck. He collides with you with a soft thud, and you hear James mutter about being gentle with you.

“Goodnight,” You say whisper, one arm holding him to you and the other holding the back of his head. “I love you bunches. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Your eyes flicker up to meet James’ who is watching you with an indescribable look.

“Love you.” Henry mumbles, the sleepiness in his voice affecting his pronunciation. Then he leans back and plants a big kiss on your forehead, mimicking the affectionate gesture he’s seen his father make so many times. You laugh quietly and press a kiss on his nose in return. Satisfied, Henry crawls back to his father and lifts his arms. James picks him up, his gaze lingering on you.

“I’ll be right back.” James says softly before heading to Henry’s room. As he walks away, Henry peeks over his shoulder and waves a tiny hand at you.

please reblog or comment with your thoughts! they are very appreciated and keep me motivated to keep writing! ��

part two here!

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luveline · 6 months ago

Note

Hey lovely, How about Hotch and wife!reader having their first family outing with new baby, a walk in the park or grocery shopping something like that you can pick.

Hope your having a good weekend lovely Xx <3 🌼

ty for your request ily <3 —you and Hotch juggle your small family for the first time. fem, 1.2k

“Please hold my hand?”

Having a baby has activated some intrafamily jealousy, but you don’t mind. You’re cooing at Noah adoringly when Jack interrupts, thrusting his hand in the air, the very beginning of a tantrum lining his eyes and his thin eyebrows pinched like a threat.

“Baby, don’t you wanna come and sit up here with Noah?” you ask. There’s not much room next to the carrier, but Jack's slight.

He shakes his head, hand poking your tummy. Grocery shopping with Jack has always been hard, he wants to look at everything, wants to take the list, and doesn’t ever wanna sit in the cart, but it’s proving harder today.

“Aaron, you have to push the cart.”

He’s been begging you to let him for the last half hour. “It’s gonna tire me out,” he says, nudging you aside by the hip, “but I think I can handle it for you. You did call me by my first name for once. We reward good behaviour in this family.”

You roll your eyes and take Jack’s little hand. Calling him Aaron now you’ve had a baby together should feel natural, but it doesn’t. It feels more like a loving nickname than his actual name —over two years of calling him Hotch is hard to ignore.

Jack gives you a loving look that makes the fuss worth it. “This is fun,” he says.

“This is awesome.”

You and Jack got used to doing grocery shopping by yourselves while you were on your maternity leave without his dad. With Hotch now on his own paternity leave to accompany you, it is admittedly easier, and much more fun. You and Jack swing your hands together as Hotch steers the cart and your baby into the cereal aisle, which’ll take hours to get through, no doubt, but it doesn’t matter. What else is there to do?

You make it Hotch’s job to say no to the boxes that are mostly sugar, and, unfortunately for Jack, get distracted by Noah in his baby carrier where it’s locked into the cart. His eyes reluctant to open, tired, dark lashes threaded together at their corners, his tiny mouth. “Aw, look at you, handsome, you’re nearly smiling. You look just like your daddy, he never wants to smile either,” you say, tapping his nose.

Your saccharine tone prompts distress. “Y/N,” Jack whines, “you need to help me choose the cereal.” He yanks at your hand.

“Jack, don’t start, bud.”

“Dad,” Jack pouts.

“No, it’s okay. We’re supposed to be sharing everybody now, so Jack gets to share me too. I’ll help you pick some cereal. I don’t mind,” you say.

You sort of do mind, just a bit. This is Noah’s first time out in the world that wasn’t sitting peacefully in the backyard, and you don’t want him to be scared. Maybe baby’s can’t be scared, you don’t know. It’s nicer to feel close to him in these big moments. But it’s Jack’s first time having a baby brother at the store, too, so you’ll have to make it work.

“You don’t have to,” Hotch says.

“It’s fine, it’s okay.” You bend down to see the cereal selection. “They have your favourite, Cinnamon Toast Crunch. And your second, Fruity Pebbles. It’s up to you, it’s your treat.”

Jack gasps and hits a box of Fruity Pebbles, “Barney’s on the box now!” he says, pointing at the blonde character behind the cereal bowl.

You give a soft laugh quickly lost as Jack’s force topples the box. It hits the floor with a light crunch. “Oh, whoops. Let’s pick this up,” you say, popping down into a crouch without thinking.

“Honey–” Hotch says, which would surely be followed by a Should you be doing that? if you weren’t already flopping onto one knee in pain.

Bad idea. Terrible idea. Having a baby tears a mixture of tissue and muscle, and while the fiery pain of labour has since become a bad memory, a spike of trauma erupts between your legs. “Ow,” you yelp, eyes welling with unbidden tears.

“Y/N!” Jack and Hotch say simultaneously.

“Are you alright?” Hotch asks, bending at the waist to grab you, never cruel but clearly perturbed as his hands grasp your shoulders. They slip down under your arms. “Come on, can you stand up?”

You blink away tears and force yourself to stand with his help. He’s quick to pull you close, one hand on your wrist, head ducked to see your face. “Are you okay? What happened?”

You let out a queasy breath. “Something’s not done fixing itself,” you joke weakly.

“Are you alright?” he asks again, lower.

“I’m fine.” You’d love to sit down. The pain is a thrum like your heartbeat now, hurting but half as intense. “I’m okay. Really, it just shocked me.”

He slips his arm around your neck to encourage you in for a temple kiss.

“I’m sorry.”

You wiggle out of Hotch’s hold. Jack stands with a large pout near the fallen box of cereal, his hands twisting together over his tummy. “It’s okay,” you say.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, panicked tears slipping down his cheeks. “You hurt getting it and it was mine, I’m sorry.” His voice squeezes out of him in guilty pangs.

“It’s okay!” you repeat, leaning over with a wince to offer your arms, “It’s really okay, it’s not your fault. Don’t be upset, baby, I’m fine.”

You hoist Jack into your arms as he begins crying in earnest. His crying startles Noah, who starts to whimper, and then sob despite Hotch’s gentle shushing. You look at one another in mild defeat, your hand cupping the back of Jack’s head as he clings to you for reassurance.

Noah’s sobbing is like a ringing bell. Jack says he’s sorry into your neck, and it’s such a desperate scene you let a laugh slip out. “Aw, baby,” you say, smiling as you press your nose to his cheek, “it’s really okay. It wasn’t your fault at all, it was just ‘cos I’m out of practice. I’m just tired.”

“You fell.”

Noah gurgles behind you. “I know,” Hotch says quietly. “I know. You’re okay, bud. Jack’s okay. Mom’s okay. Shh, shh.”

It’s obviously not how you’d want your shopping trip to go, but Jack’s crying eventually slows, sapping all of his energy, and so he finally agrees to sit in the cart. The only problem is that he doesn’t fit there as well as you’d thought he would. Hotch ends up carrying him the entire time you’re in the store, and Noah doesn’t ever settle. You’re like zombies when you get back to the car, a headache stark between your ears and evident in his pinched brow.

“Let’s try again in a few weeks,” Hotch suggests. “I can go by myself. Or we can make somebody else.”

You wish you had the energy to kiss his brow, giving a defeated nod as you slouch down into your seat, grateful at least for his hand on your knee. “Okay.”

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

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tetzoro · 6 months ago

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fluffy little blurb of kissing zoro’s scarred eye . established relationship (?) WC : 622 . dividers by @/cafekitsune ᰔ

“do you trust me?” your words jumbled out in one shaky breath of air as you make your approach towards zoro — the man who had been taking his mid-afternoon nap on the sunny’s deck for the past half hour.

“huh?” zoro cracked his eye open, watching you kneel before him. the golden sky illuminated behind you, wrapping around you in a soft hue of innocence, a stark contrast to your usual demeanor. something was definitely on your mind, so he raised his head up off of the wooden banister he was using as a pillow.

“i said do you trust me?” you repeat, your hand gently resting on his forearm. the vulnerable look in your eye told him that you weren’t pulling any tricks, not a drop of mischief in your irises that held the hope of a thousand stars.

of course he trusted you, you were one of the people he trusted most in this world. always beside him while fighting through whatever challenges you all faced, sitting next to him during meals times, keeping him company while he works out. you’re privy to everything in his life. the question was almost laughable.

“yes.” zoro answered simply. he was curious as to what brought on this sudden question though. did he do something that made you think he didn’t trust you?

“good. close your eye.” you whispered, leaning into his personal space now. if he had to guess, he figured you were about to crawl into his lap like you sometimes do when you nap with him, curling into his body before the two of you doze off under the warm sun.

so he doesn’t argue with you, lets you do whatever you please and shuts his eye.

but you didn’t move.

he wanted to open his eye back up to see what you were up to but as if you read his mind — your voice hums, reminding him to be patient.

zoro feels your presence getting closer, your face moving towards his. were you going to kiss him? he squirmed a little under the uncertainty.

but you surprise him, you always do. gently, you press your lips against his scarred eye, a feathers touch that if he wasn’t so keen with his observation; he might’ve missed it. the kiss itself didn’t linger, but your presence did, the reassurance flooding through his veins and drowning him in the light of your love.

the closeness begins to mend a fracture in his heart that he never knew about, carefully stitching it back together with a thread of affection he hopes never goes away — stubbornly imprinting itself on the ever beating muscle that sings to the rhythm of your name.

zoro accepted the state of his eye long ago. positively convinced that it will make him stronger, that when he finally reaches his goal, it will become that much greater because of all the challenges he’s had to overcome — everything he’s had to endure come to fruition.

he never thought it would bring this tenderness in his life, that your sweet nature would rub off on him by the ghost of your lips pressing against the scarred skin.

but it’s all over far too soon, zoro’s head falling toward your lips to chase the sensation that graced his skin like molten sunshine. but he straightens up, opens his eye and peers down at you curiously.

“was that okay?” you ask, nervous from his reaction. his body melts back into something mushier than the state he left it in. a new feeling blooming in his chest as he pulls you into his lap, brushing his nose against yours before meeting your anxious gaze.

“yeah.” he smiles a little, enjoying how your nerves flow away into the wind as he wraps his arms around your waist, securing you in place before settling back into his napping position. “that was more than okay.”

thank you so much for reading ᰔ

#◟˚. ☁️ ⋆ daydreams.#zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #zoro fluff

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daycourtofficial · 3 months ago

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All’s well that ends well to end up with you

Pairing: Eris x Rhysand’s sister!reader | WC: 1.5k | warnings: none

Summary: fears and doubts cause you and Eris to do your first irrational act together: a secret mating bond ceremony

Author’s note: happy Eris Week to all who celebrate and to @erisweekofficial for all their work!! I gotta start with my roots and my first post has to be gingerfucker!! I have to give the people what they know me for!! This can be read as a stand alone tho 🫶🏻

You breathed deeply, the chimes of the clock tower drowning out any other noise. Eris stood before you, an immaculate jacket of deep red adorning his chest. He wore a black dress shirt beneath, embroidered with the phases of the moon around the collar. His jacket was a rich velvet, gold thread woven throughout.

It was the perfect way to symbolize your unity. You were not sure who made such a garment, unsure if black fabric was even allowed in the Autumn Court.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to care when his soft amber eyes look down at you as he held out his arm for you.

The two of you were in the Day Court under the cover of darkness, a secret mating ceremony. It was truly quite romantic, a tale you hoped to share whenever it’s safe for you to do so.

You had come to visit Helion a month prior for negotiations on behalf of Rhysand. You had asked to come in Rhys’s stead because 1) you also had wanted to peruse the libraries and 2) you were hoping to negotiate a pegasus from Helion.

At least, those were the reasons you gave your brother.

The end of Amarantha’s reign had allowed you to finally see your mate for the first time in five decades, having slipped away to a spot in the woods after Rhys’s return to wait in hopes of just a glimpse of him.

You had waited impatiently, certain that the nerves and anxiety were rolling off you in waves for any nearby wildlife to intercept. It felt incredible to see him again, your face tucked beneath his chin as he held you close to him, his scent burning itself into your memory once more.

His first words to you following your separation were a desperate plea for a ceremony, his pleas soft as he clutched you tightly to his chest.

You knew it was too risky to do it in either of your home courts. Spring was an obvious no, Winter and Dawn were quite risky, leaving Summer and Day as your only real options.

You were quite fond of Helion, and you were sure you could convince him to allow the two of you passage into his court for a few hours.

After he listened to your pleas, he agreed to allow the two of you access to one of his temples for a few hours.

“Not all of us can see so well in the moonlight,” he had told you, letting you know the location of the most beautiful temple in his court. “Only one priestess roams the halls on Tuesday nights. She is quite fond of performing such ceremonies.”

His words were no embellishment. The temple before you was massive and stunningly beautiful. The high arched ceilings with suns painted everywhere almost glowed against the blue backdrop behind them.

You wondered how it looked during the day.

Eris looked down as you hooked your arm into his. You had accepted the bond decades ago, but the two of you wanted to go through with the ceremony. To ensure that no matter what happened to two of you moving forward, whatever happened to your courts, your people, your homes, there was some record with this date and your names on it. Some written record for future generations to find eons later, when the lands look nothing like they do now and the people live lives that resemble nothing like your own.

When the common tongue is gone, replaced with some newer language you couldn’t begin to understand. Your names would live forever within the pages of this temple, tucked away in their recorded archives: the prince of the Autumn Court and the princess of the Night Court, bound together by fate and by their own wishes.

The flickering light from the candles made Eris’s freckles dance across his face.

The lord led you down the long aisle, your arm nestled into his elbow. The two of you moved in tandem, your long skirts kissing the ground as you went, the black fabric turning red as it moved down your body until it looked as if you walked in the flames.

The priestess nodded at the two of you as you approached the altar, your dress’s slight train cascading down the steps behind you. You turned to Eris, his hands outstretched in invitation, pleading for yours to rest atop them. His hands were warm against yours, the familiar heat calming your nerves.

The priestess before you wore all white, a long flowing gown cinched at the waist. It looked nothing like what Helion wore - instead of long, flowing fabrics, the priestess wore a long, tight-fitted dress, long bell shaped sleeves adorning her arms. A white hood covered her dark black hair, and dark hands adorned with gold rings peaked out from her sleeves.

The priestess lit the candles around the altar as you two looked into each other’s eyes, every emotion strumming through the bond between you two, a song you swore you could hear humming through the air and your chest.

She approached the two of you, a golden silk ribbon in her hands. You moved your right hand into his right hand, and he gently scraped his index finger against his palm. She began chanting, wrapping the soft silk around your forearms. She connected the two joined hands, and you squeezed Eris’s palm, offering a soft smile that he returned.

He was captivating in the night, a fire that kept you warm long through a treacherous night.

Her chanting paused as she looked at you, her low voice telling you, “if you wish to exchange any personal vows, now is the time.”

You took a deep breath, turning back to Eris.

Your mate looked back at you, and any nerves you had dissipated as you started speaking, the words coming from your lips as you gazed into his amber eyes.

“I’m not sure if we were ever two separate things, but if we were, if we are, the edges of you and I have been blurring since I met you, our definitions becoming hazier. I am officially laying claim that there is no longer any part of me that hasn’t been invaded by you.

“I have prayed for you in bonfires, in the dying hearths of my childhood. I always viewed fire as a sacred thing, always offering it something so it can continue to burn before me. Perhaps I was just learning how to stoke the flames, or maybe I knew that worshiping the flame would lead me to you.”

His hand squeezed your own, the ribbon not feeling tight enough to truly blend the two of you together.

His eyes shone in the candlelight, his beauty intensified in the flame as if it knew he was kin.

“I have gone by many names. Eris Vanserra, heir to the Autumn throne, prick, eldest, …. All of those names pale in comparison to the first time you called me ‘mate’.

“That awful playwright who you adore so much put into one of his plays, “What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet.” And yet, he never knew what it felt like to be called ‘yours’, what it feels like when you gaze at me so softly, to see the words ‘mine, mine, mine’ swimming in your irises.

“I do not know where my promises can lie, what I am truly capable of. I do not wish to commit to false promises. Our foundation has always been on feeble ground, and I do not wish to build a mateship on such poor foundations.

“I promise to do my very best for you, every day, every minute, for the rest of my life. I promise that every decision I will make will include you as a factor. As the factor. My life is complicated, as you are aware, but you are not complicated. You never have been. My chest yearns for you, at all times. You have always offered me the peace of familiarity.“

You surged forward, capturing his lips in a kiss before pulling back quickly.

“Er, I don’t care about my name, or my title. None of it compares to being called your mate.”

The priestess looked at you two, probably waiting to see if you would pounce on him right here. Maybe that was how they held these ceremonies in Day. You were sure Helion wouldn’t mind.

“You are bound together, from here for eternity, in perfect union. May the Mother bless you both with endless love and patience for each other.”

The air had a certain crispness to it at her words, the bond humming in your chest with satisfaction, satisfying a yearning that hadn’t let up for centuries.

Nobody could deny either of you the sanctity of your bond anymore.

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers @tothestarsandwhateverend @sarawritestories @chxosangxl

Eris taglist: @magicstrengthandcourage @panther-girl-124

Thanks for reading ❣️

#gingerfucker #acotar fanfiction #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x you #eris x y/n #eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra fanfic #eris vanserra x y/n

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celestialowlbear · 10 months ago

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Give You Everything

Pairing: Halsin x Fem!Reader (Tav)

Summary: Halsin gives you some morning loving. No plot. Just fluffy smut. 💕

Warnings: NSFW, 18+. Oral (fem receiving), mentions of m receiving.

WC: ~1300

A/N: My hand slipped. Oops. 😏 I have no reason for this besides Halsin consuming my thoughts by being the big sexy romantic he is. This takes place years after the end of BG3, however you may imagine it. Maybe Tav and Halsin live in a cottage in the woods? Anyway, I hope you all enjoy. Let me know what you think!

You wake to Halsin’s lips on yours, tasting vaguely of honey and figs he must have snacked on before gently rousing you.

You stirred, eyes opening as you stretched under the animal furs you were tucked into.

“No need to rise, my love.” Halsin kissed your exposed shoulder. “I’m coming back to join you.”

Halsin often woke with the sun, greeting the day with a stroll in his bear form. You usually joined him, but he must have let you sleep this morning.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” You mumbled, turning toward him, realizing the sun had already risen based on the bright light speckling through the paned window.

“You looked so peaceful, I did not want to disturb your dreams.”

Halsin huddled his face into your neck, inhaling your scent, gently tracing his large hand up your arm.

“Not to mention, I wanted to keep you in bed.”

Halsin’s hand lazily trailed up your torso, reverently cupping your breast and giving it a light squeeze.

“Is that right, my bear?” You chuckled, a faint sigh departing your lips immediately after as Halsin brushed his thumb over your hardening nipple.

“Why, oh why, would you want to keep me in bed on such a lovely morning?” You hovered your lips close to his in a teasing manner, catching his eye that was tinted with a familiar hunger.

“It is best I show you, my heart.” Halsin rumbled as he maneuvered himself on top of you momentarily, pulling the furs off your body.

You were naked, as that is how you slept together. He was naked as well, shedding his clothing from his morning walkabout to join you once again in bed.

Halsin ran his hands down your thighs, taking worshipful handfuls of your supple skin.

He paused, gazing over you.

“Always so perfect. Nothing, nothing in all of nature could ever compare to you.”

Halsin brought his lips down to your inner thigh, maintaining eye contact as he kissed your flushed skin.

“As the sun rose, I was reminded of you.” He slowly made his way up toward your core, dampening with anticipation.

“A bright light to guide me to new beginnings. Through any hardship or affliction, I know you will always be my rising sun.”

You still blushed at his words, even after years together.

Halsin never held back on his feelings for you, constantly reminding you how deeply he loved you, and how thankful he was to have you by his side.

You reminded him as well, holding dear the bashful look that always crossed his face when doing so. He was a gentle soul at heart. All the more reason to remind him of your love, and let him care for you.

“Was that all you were thinking of this morning?” You whispered, a coy smile turning up your lips, watching him make his way to your center.

Halsin chuckled deeply against your skin, his breath now ghosting over your center, the smell of your arousal stirring the beast within him.

“Perhaps not��I was also reminiscing of the night before last…the sounds that left your lips that evening have not left my mind.”

Halsin brought a finger between your folds, gently circling and exploring.

“I would greatly enjoy hearing those sounds again. If you permit me…” Halsin kissed your clit, his tongue softly probing, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he felt your body squirm and legs tremble by his head.

“Yes, Halsin, always for you…”

You threaded your fingers in his hair as he went to work, slowly licking and sucking at your now thoroughly soaked pussy.

Halsin was in no rush, enjoying every gasp and soft mewl and twitch of your legs as he feasted.

He carefully moved your legs over his massive shoulders to gain better access, holding you in place.

At this point, Halsin knew your body even better than you did.

He knew exactly what made you squirm, what made you beg for more, what made you get intensely lost in pleasure.

You knew the same of his body, knowing his most sensitive parts, what pushed him to the limit of his control.

Halsin had never truly been as vulnerable with anyone else in his long life as he is with you.

You knew every part of him, his deepest fears, the darkest corners of his mind. You helped him through his anguish all that time ago, helped him see clearly for the first time in his life.

You held and protected his heart as delicately as one would a newly hatched bird.

He owed everything to you.

“Halsin…” your grip on his hair tightened, tugging in just the way he liked. “More, please…”

Halsin hummed into you in response, knowing he was teasing you by going slowly. He treasured tasting you like this, the sweetest nectar in nature could never compare.

It was a taste he craved daily.

He didn’t want to be too selfish, though. He knew you were desperate for release.

How could he ever deny you such ecstasy?

Halsin picked up his pace, switching between circling your clit with his tongue and fucking you as deep as he could go with his warm muscle.

You cried out, the fire in your belly growing. You knew Halsin was aching between his legs, his body begging for his release.

Sometimes, getting you off like this was enough, coming to his end without touch.

You hoped you could taste him, though, to give back what he so selflessly offers to you.

The sounds were obscene as he lost himself between your legs, mixing with your trembling moans and cries. He was wildly lapping and licking and stroking with his tongue, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs.

“H-Halsin I’m-I’m so close, don’t stop!” You managed to coherently string together one sentence, the molten coil in your belly threatening to explode with each pass of his tongue.

You were gripping his hair with both hands now, bucking up at him to get the most pressure possible as your climax was rushing toward you.

Halsin was growling against your pussy, his chin dripping with your slick, his hips instinctually bucking for any type of friction against his cock.

Your body was shaking and Halsin knew you were about to explode.

You came with a cry of his name, chanting it like a prayer to the Gods as you fell over the precipice of bliss. Halsin didn’t let up, keeping up his ministrations, drinking up your essence.

Halsin didn’t want to waste one drop of your pleasure.

Your body spasmed, toes curling as your mind went blank.

Soon, the flicks of his tongue were becoming too much, coming down from your heaven.

You gently pushed him away and Halsin lifted his head, his eyes flashing gold momentarily as his eyes locked on your body, licking his lips, savoring your taste.

“Beautiful, my heart. Perfection.”

You were trying to catch your breath, your body gelatinous. You motioned for him to come back on top of you.

Halsin crawled up your body, hovering over you. You lifted your head, capturing his lips to yours in a fervent kiss of thanks. Your tongues danced, Halsin immediately submitting to your passion. Your hands grasped at his back, pulling him down into you.

Halsin let out a deep groan as you rubbed your sensitive pussy on his throbbing cock.

“Take me, my love. Take your pleasure, too.” You nibbled at his bottom lip, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Believe me when I say I get my greatest pleasure from watching you come undone on my tongue.” He replied, breaking the kiss momentarily.

“Let me do the same, then.” You smiled against his lips, bringing a hand down to grasp his rigid, thick length. “Come undone on my tongue.”

Halsin shuddered and let out a low moan at your touch, your hand gliding over his hot, velvety skin.

Halsin nipped at your chin, flipping you both so you were on top of him, your legs barely able to straddle his wide body.

“You know I cannot deny you anything, my heart.”

You smiled sweetly, sliding down his body, watching his eyes glow gold at the anticipation of your touch, ready to return him the favor.

-ˏˋ⋆ Thanks for reading, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! ⋆ˊˎ-

#Halsin x reader #halsin x tav #halsin bg3 #halsin #halsin silverbough #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 #halsin smut #x reader #owlwrites #bg3 halsin #Bg3 fanfiction #halsin x fem!reader #Halsin x fem!tav

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sincerelyneo · 8 months ago

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omg hello! i missed you so much!!! 💖 would you consider reposting arcade again?? it was legit the best thing i’ve ever read omg i was so sad when i couldnt find it anymore

its fine if you cant tho!! im glad youre backkkk💖💖💖

ofc i can, i’m glad you liked it <3

arcade | p.js

“i’m out of control, full power up”

💿now playing: arcade by nct dream

❯ summary: Jisung’s been nothing but busy lately, so when you hear he got the weekend of your anniversary off, you can’t help but plan something to spend time with him. Expect, the only thing jisung wants after his busy month is you — and he’s not gonna let your silly arcade date get in the way of that.

❯ pairings: jisung x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship, smut, fluffish.

❯ words: 3.5k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, fingering, exhibitionism, reader uses she/her pronouns, use of the name baby, jisung takes pictures whilst fingering reader in a photobooth idk???

"You brought us to an arcade for our three year anniversary?"

You look over to Jisung standing by your side as the pair of you stood in front of the arcade entryway with the giant neon sign above your heads.

"Yeah, surprise - who doesn't love a date night with pizza and an arcade?" You grin, trying to hide the look of nervousness fighting to show once you notice his frown.

“Baby,” he groans, whiny, “I thought we were gonna go home after the pizza.”

You may have lied to him about that.

When you told Jisung about tonight’s date, he originally objected. He wanted to have a chilled night in with just the two of you — alone. Something he hadn’t had for the past four weeks he’d been strung up at work. Yet, you insisted that the two of you celebrated your three year anniversary just like you had done for your first and second.

So instead, the two of you came up with a compromise: head to your favourite pizza place, then come home and watch a movie snuggled together on the couch. In Jisung’s mind ‘watch a movie’ was code for letting his hands roam all over your body whilst he watched you whither and squirm, but he figured it was best to not discuss the minute details.

But don’t get him wrong. Just because he wanted to have a quiet night in didn't mean he hasn’t missed you — because oh he has. He’s only bothered the rest of the dreamies with his annual ‘I miss her’ speech every other hour.

And whilst typically Jisung loved to spend every passing minute of the day with you; right now, all he could think about was how much he wanted to be balls deep in the cunt he’d missed so much — not spending his time in some arcade.

"I haven't been inside one of these since I was a little kid," you tell him. “Please Sungie, just for an hour.” You begin tugging on his hands.

“I don’t know, Y/N. Aren’t we a bit too old to be playing in the arcade?” he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Pretty please!”

You hope the small flutter in your eyelashes is enough to win over the hesitant man. And you know it will because he’s told you several times not to give him those signature doe eyes, because he can’t ever bring himself to say no to them.

"Fine."

He grasps your hand, threading your fingers together as he starts to lead the two of you inside. You're instantly greeted with the loud electronic sound effects from the various games, along with the random music playing inside.

There's lights flashing everywhere, and you notice a bunch of people sitting at the bar and in booths near the front of the arcade, along with a bunch wandering around all of the games.

Jisung looks sideways before gesturing his head to the row of retro games, "what do you wanna play?" He asks.

“You can pick first, because I’m such a good girlfriend.”

He can’t help but smile at you — because he knows you're right.

“How about we play some pinball?

"I take it back," you say with a pointed look, "I’ve seen you play that with Chenle and I’m definitely gonna lose.”

“Too late, you’ve already given me the power,” he shrugs and pulls your arm over to where the game is situated.

“Ugh, Jisung. There’s no point, I already know I’m gonna lose,” you try to protest.

“Stop complaining,” he grasps your hips to turn you around to face the pinball machine then comes to stand behind you.

He takes your hands and places them on the buttons either side of the machine in front of you. You feel your cheeks flush when you feel Jisung’s chin rest on your shoulder, as he guides your fingers over the controls and silently coaches you through the game.

You don’t know how he always does it but even here, he's managing to create some form of sexual tension between the two of you at a pinball machine.

“Jisung..” you whisper as he places teasing kisses along your neck.

“Shhh, I’m just trying to help you out,” his lips brush against your neck as he continues hitting the buttons at a constant steady speed. “Besides, I think I’ve found my new favourite way to play pinball tonight."

Eventually, the ball shoots straight down between the two flippers, drawing the game to an end. He’d been doing so well that you wanted to turn around and kiss him but he pressed you harder against the machine, dipping into the crook of your neck to tease your ear.

"You've got no idea how badly I wish I could bend you over this and fuck you right here, right now."

It sent shivers down your whole body as you felt him grin against your skin when he noticed the sharp inhale of air you sucked in at his words.

Jisung knows you're shy, so he’s not surprised that you try to snake away from his grip at his crude remark.

"Look, we got a new high score," he says while he slips his hands from over yours and slides them up your arms. Pretending he didn't just whisper something that dirty. “We make a pretty good team.”

“Yeah ‘cause you did all the work,” you sulk.

You see the red digital writing flashing on the scoreboard, then his arms snake around to link across your lower stomach and pull you firmer against him. To anyone watching you look like a typical couple being affectionate, but the tension makes it feel the furthest thing from innocent.

"You know exactly what you're doing right now, Jisung Park," you huff, trying to control how flustered you feel, "We’re here to play games."

He presses a kiss to your cheek, before murmuring, "I am playing games. And so far I think I'm winning."

As he speaks he lets one of his hands slip down to graze over the front of your crotch, which he swears is an accident when you sternly say his name. But you can’t deny the way the touch made you jolt before he pulls away and steps back. You’d missed his touch — missed being with him like this.

But this was not the place. So you take his hand and turn the two of you to walk off like nothing happened.

The two of you continued to play a handful of arcade games. The classics, retro games, new games — Jisung had even managed to secure you a fluffy teddy bear from the claw game after you mentioned it being ‘impossible’.

You’d been taking it in turns to choose a game each, but when you mentioned the arcade photo booth, your boyfriend had started to get apprehensive.

After some of your amazing buttering up skills with puppy dog eyes, he agreed and he pulled the curtain back for you to get inside, then closes the door on the booth.

He sat down first on the small seat, and when you went to sit next to him he grabbed your waist and pulled you down onto his lap instead. He takes some coins from his pocket and starts putting them in the slot.

You try to get off his lap to sit beside him before the timer starts but he doesn’t let you.

“Just look at the camera and smile."

Once you hear the timer counting down the two of you start posing. But just before the last beep sounds, you get the idea to grab hold of Jisung’s face and let your lips mush against his cheek causing him to scrunch his nose up.

"That’s not fair," he says the second he hears the beeping start again.You stick your tongue out at him and his eyes narrow. “Fine, if that’s the game we’re playing.”

You both look back at the camera and offer smiles, kisses and peace signs. But at the last beep, Jisung gets the idea to move both of his hands to cup over your chest, groping your boobs.

Your mouth falls open as you gasp in shock while Jisung starts laughing.

You try to pull his hands away, "Okay fine, point taken mister grabby hands."

Jisung is practically giggling to himself, whilst you wait for the timer to start again.

“Alright alright, we'll take a serious one now.” He says, placing his chin on your shoulder, as you both look at the camera.

But once again, as the third beeping starts he quickly says, “Do you think people would notice if I made you cum while we're in here?"

Your body stiffens in shock as the picture is taken. Jisung is bursting with laughter and you're taken aback.

Jisung likes sex. He loves sex in fact — especially with you. But he never does this. Sure he teases you when you're out and about — how could he not when you’re so beautiful and perfect for him. But he’s never insinuated doing something so sexual in public like this before.

But here the two of you are. Waiting for the timer to start again, but this time you’re anticipating the shit he was going to pull when the final beep comes — and he does not disappoint. Because his hands slide up your legs, dipping into your inner thighs and squeezing them.

"Jisung," you warn him, "behave yourself."

The beeping starts again, but Jisung doesn't move his hands, and starts to massage his fingers higher.

When the last tick happens, he moves his face to press a kiss to your jaw, and you feel his breath hitting your skin from his nose.

He starts to inch your legs a bit further apart to let his thumbs graze over the crease where your thighs meet your pelvis.

“Ive missed you so fucking much baby,” he whines. “I need you so bad.”

“Jisung not here,” you sigh as his hands start working to warm up your skin.

“Why not? Wouldn’t you like the thought of me getting you off in here? Trying not to get caught?"

If his face wasn't so close to yours you wouldn't be able to hear him over the loud music in the arcade and how low his voice has gotten.

You give him a confused frown, thinking he surely can't be fucking serious but when you do he takes the opportunity to press his lips against you, kissing you while the camera snaps the last picture.

Your stomach is knotting along with your heart beating faster and you feel that familiar heat between your legs but you’d never tell him that — and he’d never tell you that he knows you keep it from him.

"Would you?" He asks again when he breaks the kiss.

You look at him like he's lost his mind. "You're joking right?" You can't be serious - Jisung people get their pictures taken in here, someone could walk in, you can't-"

He makes your words stop and your breath hitch in your throat as he moves his hand up under your skirt and cups his hand between your legs.

"That's not what I asked you," he says letting his eyes trace over your face, then leans closer, "Would you enjoy it?"

“Jisung, this is so unlike you, are you even hearing what you’re asking me?”

He moves his leg a bit and wedges his heel against the edge of the door so it can't be pulled open, "I know exactly what I’m asking you, so answer me."

"We’re supposed to be taking pictures, Sung,” you try changing the subject, and ignore the pressure of his hand pressed against you.

"Oh god we will," he says like it should be obvious.

And now you’re looking even more caught off guard.

“I'd fucking kill to have some pictures of you getting off. Have them to look at them whenever I’m needy and miss you.”

Jisung starts to massage the heel of his palm very slowly against you, adding more pressure over your underwear as you try to squeeze your legs closed but he holds them with his other hand to keep them apart.

"We can't-" it takes very fibre in your body to attempt to protest this, but you easily allow him to cut you off.

"Yes we fucking can," he has that sly look on his face, "But if you don't want to, we won't. It's up to you. Should I stop?"

You exhale a weak breath as he replaces the heel of his palm with his fingers dancing over your underwear, massaging slow circles that make your hips shift.

"Won’t people think it's weird if we're in here too long." you fumble over your words which makes Jisung smile while he bites on his lip.

"Don't worry I'll be quick," he says knowing you’re only making excuses instead of admitting what you really want.

Your eyes drift closed as you sigh, feeling his fingers move against you to create a friction that's only making the throb between your legs worsen. You have absolutely no common sense when it comes to this man and his fucking fingers.

"Should I stop?" He repeats in a low voice, moving his mouth to start to kiss along your jaw.

As usual with him, your functioning brain checks out while your subconscious takes over and you shake your head feeling your breathing start to go shallow.

"You want me to make you cum, yeah? Is that right baby?" His words are slightly muffled as he moves his free hand from your inner thigh and brushes your hair back over your shoulder so he can move his mouth to your neck, "I need words baby."

You should be rational and tell him to stop. But you don't. You wouldn’t dare. You didn’t want him to. So instead you say what you do want, and breathe out a quiet "yes."

Jisung’s own breathing is getting heavier, and the tension in this small enclosed space feels like it's compressing both of you closer together. When he hears your approval, his hand between your legs bunches up the front of your skirt. When he slips it up he snakes his hand over your stomach to push down into your underwear.

A faint groan echoes in Jisung’s throat the second his fingers feel your bare skin, exploring around your underwear to feel the slickness there.

"You’ve made a mess. Missed me this much, huh?” his voice is low, while he drags his warm lips up your neck.

You only manage to nod your head, your brain focused on squirming your hips to find some kind of friction again. He finally rests the pads of his fingers against your throbbing clit, starting to tease circles that force a quiet whimper out of you. Your eyes are still closed as excitement and neediness flood your nerves.

For doing something that should be wrong, it feels so damn right, and it's all you can think of. Feeling him is all you can think about.

"You sure I can take some pictures?" He checks, keeping his movements steady as your hips start to circle against his hand,

You don't respond at first—you can’t—too caught up in how this is feeling, and when he dips his fingers down to your pussy to collect more arousal on his fingers before moving back to your clit and applying more pressure, your head falls forward as you pant out a strained, "You - fuck, yes, you can."

He chuckles hearing how fucked out you are for him, and he’s only just started. But it’s when you hold onto the thigh he’s been using to pry your legs open that his eyes darken with need.

He keeps his fingers moving while he manages to get some coins he had in his pocket, reaching forward to put them into the coin slot, then pressing the button to start the timer.

When he relaxes back he applies a firmer pressure, and starts to massage your clit in quicker circles; making your mouth drop open with a gasped moan. You can barely hear the beep for the picture anymore, everything around you turning blurry, and all you can hear is your heart beat mixed your heavy breathing.

"That's it baby," he coos, with a gravel to his voice from the tension in it, "God I wish I could fuck you right now. I’ve been dying for it.”

Your skin is burning up, and all you can manage in response is the pants from your open mouth, desperately trying to keep yourself quiet.

You start to grind yourself against him as his fingers work, and feel the hard bulge forming in his pants underneath your ass.

He wasn't kidding when he said he'd be quick, he's already building the pressure in your lower belly, making your stomach muscles tighten, while he moves his fingers in the exact way he knows you love it.

That knot in your lower half tightens, and your legs start to tremble as a louder moan you can't stop comes out of your mouth.

"Fuck—Jisung," you whimper, with your chest starting to heave with rapid uneven breaths.

He only quickens his fingers driving with determination and speed, making sure to keep repeating the same movements that are getting the best reactions from you and when your head falls back as you moan again; his free hand comes up to cover your mouth.

"Shhhh—quiet, remember?" He hushes against your ear, groaning at the feeling of you grinding against him, "I know you wanna cum baby, but there’s no way I’m letting anyone else hear how you sound for me.”

All you can manage is a muffled "mhm" against his hand as your eyes squeeze tighter. That familiar sensation starts to ripple from your centre down your legs and into the rest of your limbs.

The orgasm is speeding towards you, faster than anticipated causing your back to arch up as your hips writhe. Your mind is foggy only able to make out quiet whispers of encouragement coming from Jisung.

As the release ripples through your body and your moans are muted against his hand, Jisung groans again, feeling you shake on top of him. He can’t help but snap his hand away to grasp at your jaw to turn your face and kiss you hard while you ride through your climax.

The kiss is mostly open lips grazing against each other, or trying to connect in messy motions with both of your laboured breathing mixing together. His fingers only pause when you try to pull yourself away from them.

Once your eyes drift open to see Jisung’s, the look in them makes you want to squeeze your legs together again if you could move them currently.

Jisung brings his hand up, and grazes his pointer and middle finger he just used to send your body into a frenzy against your lower lip as a silent request for you to open your mouth. You don’t deny it, taking them into your mouth to taste yourself.

“Fucking hell,” his eyes dart back and forth from your eyes to your mouth. His head rolls back against the wall behind you and he whines in the quiet, "God fucking help me."

Your body is still buzzing, floating down dazed from the high it was on, and you watch Jisung bite down on his lower lip as his brows knit tight together, as his hips shift beneath you.

"Everything okay, Sungie?" It’s the only thing your mushed brain can think of saying as you look down at his strained pants.

"Fuck no," he mumbles, looking like he's trying to compose himself, "But it’s my own fault. I suggested we do this. I’ll deal with myself later.”

"Later?" You ask.

Jisung lifts his head back up, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek as he rubs his palm up and down your thigh, "Yeah, later. When we get home and we watch that movie you promised me.”

He thinks you don’t know that he uses the movie thing as a code to fuck you — but you do know — and that’s why you’ve never protested when he puts on another one of those Harry Potter movies he loves.

"You sure you'll be able to wait that long?"

Jisung’s lips lift up at the corners, "I’ve waited weeks for this, I’m sure I can manage a couple more hours.”

He hugs you against him with his arms around your stomach, and back against his firm chest.

"But then again,” he begins “Now I have the memory of how fucking hot watching you get off in here was. That makes waiting like some kind of sick torture to me."

You let out a weak laugh, feeling your cheeks flush more than they already were, "I still can't believe we just did this."

"I can, and there's pictures to prove it," he smiles, pulling the strip of three black and white photos from the dispenser.

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