#but rather nervous to post because it's so different | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pedrospatch · 1 year

Text

Just Friends

Javier Peña x DEA Agent Female Reader

Part 2

Summary: You’re planning to have sex for the first time and you’re nervous—Javi offers to show you a thing or two, but just as friends of course.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. reader is in late 20’s; reader is an agent for the DEA; established friendship, idiots in love lust, overprotective/slightly jealous Javi; Javi is his canon manwhore self, reader is a virgin, talks of virginity loss and her desire for no strings attached sex, a bit of pining and yearning, lots of pet names, a couple insults, friendship fluff; touching, groping, dry humping, reader gets off, Javi does not. I know, I know. I will make it up to him in part dos. this does not follow the timeline of the show accurately, Messina is in the picture, Connie is still around. reader is bilingual, no descriptions of her race or ethnicity mentioned though. *translations at the end.

Word Count: 7.9k

A/N: This took me forever to edit and post because I’m scared lmao.

thank you to @cutesyscreenname for encouraging me to write this idea. I owe you cherry gansitos!

You observed your own reflection in the full length mirror in front of you and let out a curious little hum as you lifted the short, scarlet red minidress, holding it right up against the length of your body. You then held up the second dress that you had clutched in your opposite hand, a stunning, satin black midi number whose length was a lot longer than the first option, the hem of it falling down to your calves.

It appeared rather innocent, modest enough while it was still on the plastic hanger, but it fit you beautifully, just like a fucking glove. The bodice of the garment cinched at your waist and it was tightly fitted, hugging the curves of your upper body so closely that it looked and even felt like something of a second skin whenever you wore it. The billowy skirt of the dress flowed out around you, darling and sweet at first glance, however it came with a borderline dangerous slit in the side of it that stopped about two or three inches above the middle of your thigh near the hinge of your hip. It exposed the entire length of your leg whenever you walked, danced, or moved around in it—Murphy had once referred to it as the infamous femme fatale dress, telling you that it was a far, far more dangerous weapon than your gun could ever be.

You were fairly certain his remarks had something to do with the fact that you’d worn the dress on a number of different occasions while you were out on the job, going undercover in Bogotá for the US Drug Enforcement Administration.

As the only female agent on her team in Colombia and a younger, very beautiful female agent at that, Messina found herself using you to her advantage quite often these days. She would send you out all over Bogotá in that very same black dress with the hope that it would aid you in luring in members of the Medellín drug cartel in efforts to capture their leader, Pablo Escobar.

Tonight, however, you weren’t going undercover.

You were doing something much more frightening than mingling among some of Colombia’s most dangerous men.

Far, far more daunting than that.

You were going out on a date.

“I like the red dress the best,” Javier’s deep voice came from behind you, startling you slightly. He had mentioned to you earlier that day that he was going to some lounge with Murphy for a smoke and some drinks after work hours since it had been a long, draining week for him at the office; Messina had stuck him with an endless amount of tedious paperwork to do and it had just about driven him insane, but nothing a pack of cigarettes and some bourbon couldn’t fix. With the soft, Latin cumbias playing from the old stereo perched on top of the white oak dresser beside you, you had completely missed the sound of the front door opening and closing when he’d gotten home.

You glanced over your shoulder to see him standing there in the open doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. Javier’s dark brown eyes were fixed intently on you, a small, devilish smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he casually leaned up against the door frame of your bedroom. Well, technically, it was actually the guest bedroom of his apartment unit that he’d let you take over several months ago. The housing department of the agency had placed you into a unit in the building across the street from his, right next door to Murphy and his wife, Connie. It had been a special arrangement requested by your diligent supervisor in an effort to make sure that no one found themselves in a compromising situation—she trusted you enough not to get any dumb ideas, but she didn’t trust Peña as far as she could throw him. It wasn’t very far.

While it had certainly been quite nice, and even kind of comforting at times to have Steve and Connie as your neighbors, you’d expressed to Javier one night over dinner at his place that you weren’t all too fond of having to live alone. Without an ounce of hesitation on his part, Javi offered to have you move into his spare bedroom that very same evening after you were both done eating, but only on the condition that Messina didn’t find out about the new living arrangement. She would wring Javier’s neck with her bare hands if knew that you two had been sharing his apartment this entire time.

Hell, she would wring yours too. And you were the favorite child of sorts. Less annoying than Murphy and certainly a lot less problematic than Peña.

She only liked you because she never had to worry about you. On or off the job.

But even though you were Messina’s number one, her star player, that would do absolutely nothing to spare you from her wrath if she ever came to find out that you were living with Javier Peña. She wasn’t a fan of just how close the two of you had become over the last several months; she’d told you herself that she much preferred it if you kept your distance from him while you were off duty. One wrong move on your part or Javi’s and it was game fucking over. Messina wouldn’t hesitate to send one of your asses packing, back home to be assigned somewhere else, somewhere far away from the other.

Pursing your lips together lightly, you turned your attention back over to the mirror. Raising an eyebrow, you lifted the red minidress up against your body once more to get another good look at it, as if you hadn’t just been staring at it for the last five minutes before he’d appeared. “I don’t know, Javi. I don’t like this one all that much to be honest. I’m not even sure why the hell I let Connie talk me into buying it in the first place. She said it was cute,” You remarked, tilting your head slightly to the side. You wrinkled your nose at the diamond cut out design in the sides of it. Whoever designed it must have not had enough money to spring for more a teensy bit more fabric. “But it’s kind of tacky. And it makes me look like a whore.”

“Mm yes, but a very beautiful whore,” Javi stated, his smirk widening as he drank in the gorgeous sight of you before him. He licked his lips, openly admiring the way you were clad in nothing but one of his shirts, his pink button up with short sleeves that you had once told him you loved so much because it was your favorite color; you’d sneakily stolen it out of his closet on laundry day a couple weeks back while all of your clothes had been in the washing machine and had never given it back to him. Not that Javier even really wanted it back at this point—his shirt looked a million times better on you than ever it did on him. Seeing you in it did inexplicable things to him and he fucking loved it when you padded around your now shared apartment in nothing but a pair of panties and his pink shirt. He took another glimpse at you, nearly foaming at the mouth at how it fit your frame, how the hem of it fell to the tops of your smooth thighs, the material hardly doing anything to cover up the tantalizing curves of your hips and your perfect ass. “Hermosura. The most beautiful whore in all of Colombia.”

You narrowed your eyes at him through the mirror, wishing you had a free hand you could flip him off with. “Gee, thanks for the compliment, Peña. You are always such a fucking charmer, aren’t you?”

“Oh, come on. Solo es una bromita, muñeca. No tienes por qué ofenderte. I’m just messing around with you. You know I don’t think you actually look like a whore—and trust me, I know what a whore looks like,” he responded with a deep and hearty laugh. He uncrossed his arms, allowing them to fall down to his sides as he pushed himself away from the door frame. He sauntered his way further into your bedroom, uninvited. “I’m being serious about the dress, though. Go with the red one. El vestido rojo. It’s perfect. Besides, that color would look gorgeous on you, cariño. I bet it would look almost as good on you as pink does.” He laughed again as he added, “Nice shirt, by the way.”

Your annoyed expression immediately softened into one of guilt. “I’ve been meaning to give you your shirt back,” You told him, sheepishly. “Te lo juro, Javi.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you have,” Javier snorted, waving off the little white lie. He finally forced himself to tear his attention away from you and glanced around, observing the current state of your room instead. It looked like a tornado had hit the inside of your closet; dresses, jackets, and high heeled shoes were strewn all over the place. He wasn’t all too surprised by the mess. He knew you like he knew the back of his own hand by now, and this was typical of you when you were searching for the perfect outfit to wear on a free night out in the city. “I don’t remember you telling me you had any plans tonight, bonita. What’s the occasion? Going out for drinks with the chismosas of the office? Or are you going out for a girl’s night with Connie?”

You momentarily hesitated.

“Actually, I have a date.”

Through the mirror, you saw the smile fade from Javier’s face almost instantly.

Here we go, You thought inwardly to yourself.

“You have a date? With who?” he demanded.

Reluctantly, you turned around to face him. “You know Valeria, don’t you?”

The color drained from his face.

“That’s the translator who works up on the third floor, right?” He touched his hand to the back of his neck, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know her, but I’ve seen her around a couple of times.”

You almost laughed at the manner in which Javier tried playing dumb.

Of course he knew Valeria.

He had fucked her three weeks ago.

Javi had tried to keep it on the down low, but loud mouthed Valeria would brag to anyone who would listen all about how Agent Peña had fucked her in her office one evening while they’d been working late together and everyone else had gone home. Not that Javier even needed her services as a translator, he’d just needed an excuse to find himself in her office after hours so he could get his dick wet.

For some strange reason, you felt oddly fucking generous and decided to let Javier have this one, playing along with him and his sheer stupidity. “Yeah, her. She has an older brother who’s visiting the city for a few days. His name is Diego. He’s an immigration attorney who is here on business in Bogotá. She offered to set me up with him,” You explained, keeping everything as brief as possible. “I’m meeting him for drinks tonight.”

Javier frowned. “Have you met him in person?”

“Well no, but Valeria showed me his picture and she told me all about him. It’s not like he’s just some random ass guy I met on the street, Javi. He’s her brother, she advocated for him,” You tried to reason with him, knowing all too well where this conversation was heading. Sure, it was nice to know that Javier cared about you enough to be concerned about you meeting up with someone who was essentially a complete stranger, but it wasn’t like you couldn’t handle yourself. You’d spent many evenings sitting right in the laps of the violent criminals who worked for Escobar—a blind date with a coworker’s brother was nothing for him to make a fuss over. “I really don’t think that I have anything to worry about with him.”

He rigidly shook his head. “Look, no offense to Valeria, but I don’t like the idea of you running around this city at night with some fucking prick that you’ve never even met before. And before you throw all that undercover bullshit at me, just know that it’s not the same thing. You aren’t going out on the job tonight. You’re not going out with your team on standby to watch your back, you’re not going out with me and Murphy armed and ready to jump into action if things head south. What if something happens to you?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at the complete and utter ridiculousness of his drama king antics. “Oh, give me a fucking break, Peña. Diego’s not a member of the fucking cartel, he’s a lawyer. And besides that, you’re acting like I can’t take care of myself.”

“Listen, I know damn good and well that you can take care of yourself just fine, muñeca. But still, that doesn’t make me feel any better about this whole arrangement.” Javier’s hands went to his waist and he let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head once again. “I’m going to need to meet this guy before you go out with him. I don’t care whose fucking brother he is—whichever way you try to spin it, the bottom line is that he’s a still a fucking stranger and I want to check him out for myself before I let you go out with him.” He saw the mischievous twinkle in your eyes and peered at you suspiciously. “Please tell me he’s coming to pick you up here at the apartment.”

You laughed. “Of course not, Javi. I’m not stupid. I already knew you would behave like this. I knew you would go straight into overprotective mode, just like you always do. I didn’t want you scaring him off, so I’m taking a taxi cab and we’re meeting up at the bar instead.” You easily clocked the all too familiar glint in his eye and smiled sweetly at him. “And don’t even think about trying to guess which one it is so that you can show up and keep tabs on me the whole night. There are thousands of bars in this damn city and I can promise you that you’re not smart enough to figure out which one we’re going to, Agent Peña.”

Annoyed by the smugness in your tone and the way it was starting to get under his skin, Javier’s lips pressed into a thin, tight line. He watched you walk over to your closet, subtly swaying your hips to the music as you pulled out yet another dress to add to your rapidly growing list of options.

He could feel the envy prickling at each and every last single nerve ending in his entire body, his frustrations stewing at the mere thought of you going out with another man. His jaw clenched and he forced himself to shove the feeling down knowing damn well that he didn’t have the right to be jealous. Not when you two weren’t anything more than just friends.

If you’d just been a coworker, it would be different.

Javier would gladly, happily, risk mixing business with pleasure as he had so often done in the past with several secretaries—and a translator or two—in his time. But no matter how hard he’d tried over and over again to place you into that box, into that category, he simply couldn’t bring himself to do it.

You weren’t just his coworker, you were his friend.

His best friend.

For as much shit as he gave you, you mattered to him. You were important to him, way too important to ever risk fucking up your friendship by fucking you.

Still. Javier would be lying if he said he didn’t think about it. He thought about it all the damn time. When he discovered that fucking himself into the palm of his hand and moaning your name quietly over and over again under his breath didn’t quite do the job for him anymore, he would find himself standing outside of your bedroom prepared to say fuck it all and make his move on you. But then it happened every single fucking time without fail—as soon as he lifted his curled fist to knock on your door, he started to remember things.

He’d remember the way you could so easily make him laugh with your clever and quick witted sense of humor. He remembered all those late nights you two would spend together lounging on his brown leather couch in your pajamas watching old, poorly made slasher films while indulging in the greasiest, unhealthiest takeout Bogotá had to offer. He remembered how you could read him just like a fucking magazine, how you always knew when something was wrong—and how you would always somehow know exactly what to say and do to comfort him whenever he needed it the most.

He would remember how you’d come to feel like his home away from home.

And then he would drop his hand right back down to his side, whirl around on his heel, and march straight back into his bedroom where he had little choice but to go back to fantasizing about what could never be between you and him.

Snapping himself out of his own train of thought, Javier carefully stepped over the mountains of clothing and shoes on the floor and made his way over to another pile of dresses that were draped over the foot of your bed. He caught a glimpse of the lingerie set on top of them, brand new with the price tag still attached to the fabric; the set was black, made of delicate, see through lace that would leave very little to the imagination when you put it on. He picked up the thong, hooking the thin elastic of it around his index finger. “Something tells me that you’re not planning on coming back home tonight.”

“What are you talking about?” Confused, you turned around and gasped, dropping the dresses in your hands. “Javier!”

“Are these even going to cover anything up?” he teased you with a laugh, his eyes gleaming with pure amusement as they darted between the thong and the lower half of your body. “Falta mucha tela, cariño.”

You rushed up to him and made a dive for the underwear. “Give me those!”

“How come you don’t ever wear anything like this around the apartment, hermosa?” Javi dangled them above your head and out of your reach. “All I ever get to see you in are those cotton panties, the ones with polka dots on them.” He glanced down, getting an eyeful of you and the aforementioned polka dot panties. “Kind of like the ones you’re wearing now—”

“Javier, cut it out!” You placed a hand on his shoulder as the other continued grabbing for the lingerie. “Come on, stop being such a fucking asshole!”

Although he could have easily enjoyed taunting you for hours and hours on end, Javier knew you wouldn’t hesitate to have your knee meet his balls. Not wanting to risk ending up on your floor curled up in pain, he eased up and handed them over to you.

“Idiota!” You hissed at him, furiously snatching the underwear out of his hand. You stomped over to your dresser and shoved them into the middle drawer, slamming it closed so hard the old stereo nearly went crashing to the floor. “You can be a real fucking douchebag, Peña.”

Javier wasn’t bothered by the insults; he’d grown used to those—however any trace of playfulness vanished as the reality began to set in for him. The reality of you sleeping with another a man tonight. “Wait a minute, are you really planning to fuck the guy?” He didn’t even make the attempt to mask the disappointment that laced his tone. “I mean, you haven’t even met him yet. I didn’t think you were that kind of girl, querida.”

“You sound awful judgmental for someone who brings home a different escort every other fucking week,” You snapped at him, placing your hands on your hips. “Oh, and speaking of escorts, I had the pleasure of meeting Alessandra in the bathroom this morning. She asked if I had a tank top that she could borrow since apparently you got too eager and ripped her shirt off last night.” You tilted your head, squinting at him as he started shuffling uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “If you happen to go back to her for a second round, tell her that I want it back. Washed.”

Javier grimaced, looking down at the floor. “Shit. I thought she would be gone by the time you woke up,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “Lo siento, bonita. I’m sorry.”

You blinked. “Sorry for what?”

He opened his mouth, then clamped it shut.

Javier wasn’t all too sure, actually.

He didn’t have anything to apologize for, not really.

He was a single man who could do as, and who, he pleased.

Yet he still felt like a pile of dog shit knowing you’d encountered Alessandra while he had still been asleep.

You would never admit it, but Javier knew that to some extent, it hurt you to run into the women he would bring home. As if having to hear him railing them on the other side of your bedroom wall for hours wasn’t bad enough, having to meet them the following morning and seeing them half naked with their smeared makeup and disheveled hair from the previous night’s activities only made it so much fucking worse.

Having read his mind, you sighed and offered him some reassurance. “It’s fine, Javi. We both know that you don’t have anything to be sorry for,” You said, prompting him to look back up at you. You pointed a finger at him. “I do want my shirt back, though. And then maybe I’ll be nice and give you back yours.”

You expected Javi to scamper off to his room with his tail between his legs in shame. It was what he usually did—he’d avoid you for about a few hours until the dust settled, and then everything would go back to normal. Instead of running off, he stood there and spoke again.

“Are you really going to have sex with this guy?”

You tried to ignore how disheartened he sounded.

“I don’t know,” You confessed, quietly. “I want to have sex with him, but I don’t know if I’ll actually have the fucking balls to go through with it.”

“Por qué? Estas nerviosa?”

Though Javier hadn’t been poking fun at you, you couldn’t help but feel irritated with him for asking you if you were nervous; because you actually were nervous, and him asking you only made you even more fucking nervous. “And so what if I am a little nervous?” You challenged him, lightly. “Sorry that we’re not all just confidently fucking our way through this city like you are, Peña.”

“When’s the last time you had sex, anyway?”

“None of your fucking business, that’s when,” You quipped.

“That’s not fair.” Javi pouted at you. “You know when the last time I had sex was.”

“Not by choice,” You retorted. “You’re right on the other side of my paper thin wall and I left my Walkman in the office.”

Javi waited expectantly for an answer. He wasn’t going to drop the subject, and you knew that.

“You’re such a stubborn son of a bitch, you know that?” You muttered. Feeling a burning heat flood to your face, you decided to give him just about the most generic answer there was in order to get him off your back. “It was a long, long time ago.”

“Okay, but how long ago?” He pressed, curiously. “Are we talking weeks? Months?”

Your stomach began to churn violently, the hidden secret you’d kept to yourself for your entire adult life now at risk of being exposed.

“I-I really don’t remember,” You stammered out in response, averting your gaze away from his. “Can we not talk about my sex life, please? Besides, it’s getting late and I still need to take a shower and get ready for my date tonight. So if you would just kindly fuck all the way off, that would be great.”

Javier took a step back and there was a very brief moment where you had been certain you’d just narrowly avoided what could have been a painful, humiliating conversation. However, just as he was about to turn to leave, Javi’s eyes widened as it slowly clicked into place for him.

“Wait a minute—are you fucking serious?”

You groaned. “Javier, please don’t. For the sake of what’s left of my sanity, please don’t,” You nearly pleaded him, wishing that a large, Twilight Zone style swirling vortex would open up in the middle of your floor and swallow you whole.

“You’ve never had sex before,” he realized. “Have you?”

Your face felt like it had caught on fire.

Not knowing what to say or even do, you clasped your hands together and wrung them anxiously in front of you.

Of all the people to find out your secret, it just had to be Peña.

“Cariño, are you really a virgin?”

Surprised, you looked up at him.

Javi wasn’t teasing you or being a dick about it.

He seemed genuinely perplexed by the fact that you’d never had sex before. Not that it made it any less mortifying.

“Yes,” You admitted, exhaling the breath that you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding in. “I’m a virgin, alright? There, are you satisfied?”

“But how? Going undercover? And informants—”

Despite the circumstances, you couldn’t help but laugh. “I know this might come as a shock to you, but you don’t always have to fuck your informants to get what you need out of them, Peña. It’s not a requirement. I use my brains, not my body.”

“You’re shaming me for using my body?” he joked lightly, hoping it would further ease the awkward nature of the conversation—for your sake, not his.

“Just a little bit.” You offered him a small, crooked smile and felt your tense shoulders finally begin to relax. “You’re probably going to think it’s stupid or maybe even crazy, but the truth is that I’ve always wanted to wait and give it to the right man. Maybe even to a man that I’m in love with. But with the way my romantic life has been going, it just seems like that’s never going to happen for me.” You shrugged. “I just want to lose it already, Javi. I’m almost in my fucking thirties—either I lose it now, or I may as well throw in the damn towel and join a convent.”

“You would look kind of cute in a nun’s habit,” Javi mused, thoughtfully.

You shot him a glare, but felt the corners of your mouth threatening to turn up into another smile.

After a long minute, Javier broke the silence that had fallen over the both of you. “So then, Valeria’s older brother is the man you’re going to lose your virginity to? Tonight?”

“That’s the plan. He’s only here until the end of the week. It’d be no strings attached, so it works out perfectly.” You anxiously chewed on the inside of your cheek. “But only if I can find the courage to actually go through with it.”

“What are you afraid of?”

“Not knowing what to do.”

Javier quirked an eyebrow. “It’s not exactly rocket science, querida.”

You resisted the sudden urge to go up to him and backhand the stupid smirk right off of his face.

“Could you please just take me seriously for one second, Peña?” You huffed out in frustration. “I’m just really fucking nervous about it, alright? What if I can’t—what if I’m not good at it?”

Javi’s bottom lip rolled between his teeth and he stifled his laughter. “Preciosa, you’re being kind of…” He trailed off, trying to choose his next word carefully.

You lifted your chin. “Kind of what?”

“Ridiculous. And before you come over here and start pummeling me to death with those little fists of yours...” He stopped and held up his hands in defense. He took a second or two to let eyes glaze over you from head to toe. “I’m only saying that because you’re fucking gorgeous, muñequita. Any man would be lucky to have a night with you. You have nothing to be afraid of.”

“It’s not about how I look, Javier. It’s about how I perform.” You felt your face grow hot for what had to be the umpteenth time in the last ten minutes. Never did you think this would be a conversation you’d be having with him of all fucking people. “I listen to the way those women you bring home—I hear what they do to you. And I hear how much you like it.”

His lips parted slightly. “And you want to do that to him?”

“I want to make him feel good.”

Javier’s jealously simmered in his veins. But what could he do?

Nothing, that’s what. Just like him, you could do as, and who, you pleased. But if he could just get his hands on you first, at least to some extent, it would help ease the blow. He saw nothing wrong with blurring the lines, so long as he didn’t cross them.

Javi hummed. “If you really want to know how to make a man feel good, I can help you.”

“You can help me?” You repeated. “How?”

“By showing you a thing or two.”

You let out something mixed between a scoff and a laugh.

“I am not having sex with you, Peña.”

He tossed you an innocent look. “That’s not what I was suggesting at all.” He crossed the bedroom and walked over to you, reaching for your hands. He took them in his own and then started pulling you towards your bed. “If you’re really that worried about not knowing what to do, I can give you a few pointers. And calmada, querida. Our clothes stay on,” he reassured you before you could open your mouth to protest. “Just think of it as a friend helping out a friend. There’s nothing wrong with that, right?”

You chewed on your lower lip. “I don’t know about this, Javi.”

Javier’s thumbs softly smoothed across the back of your hands. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“Right now, I’m not so sure that I do.” You paused long enough for him to throw you an exasperated, almost offended look. You rolled your eyes at him and nodded your head. “Yes, of course I trust you, Peña. I trust you with my fucking life. Literally, I put my life in your hands at least once or twice a week.”

“Then let me help you, hermosa.”

You inhaled a deep breath, held it for a moment, then exhaled it softly. “Fine. But remember, our clothes stay on—” You were cut off, all the air leaving your lungs as Javi yanked you forward, slamming you against his chest. You looked up at him, ready to give him a piece of your mind for knocking the wind out of you, but as his eyes met yours, words failed you and all you could do was stare at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

This could not possibly end well.

And yet here you were, going along with it.

He snaked an arm around your waist, holding your body flush against his. Feeling how tense you had become, stiff as a fucking board, Javi gave you a light shake in an effort to get you to loosen up a bit. “First thing is first, you need to relax. There’s no need to overthink this, cariño. Especially not with me.” He reached up with his opposite hand, letting his index finger feather along your jawline. He then slipped it underneath your chin, lifting it ever so slightly and forcing you to look right into his rich pools of espresso. “I mean it. It really wouldn’t take much for a beautiful girl like you to drive me—I mean, drive him wild.”

You tried your hardest to keep your voice from trembling, but between his touch and being in such close proximity, you were finding it a hell of a lot more difficult than you’d imagined. “Show me, Peña. What drives you—I mean, what’s going to drive him wild?”

“Well, it always starts with the right kiss.”

You quickly shook your head. “Javi—”

“Kiss me.”

Had he lost his fucking mind?

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” You echoed your thoughts

“Just a friend helping out a friend,” Javi reminded you in a murmur. “Remember?”

You should have said no. You should have decked him for even suggesting such a thing.

Instead, you gave him a small nod. You rested your hands delicately on his hard, lean chest and tilted your head upwards, lightly pressing your lips to his for a split second before quickly pulling away.

“There.”

“That was fucking pathetic,” Javier laughed softly, his warm breath fanning over the tip of your nose. “You’re not kissing your abuela, you know.”

You smacked his chest. “Javi! Leave my grandma out of this.”

“You have to kiss a man like you actually want him, querida. Here, allow me to demonstrate.”

Your throat went dry as his grip around your waist tightened. He moved his other hand away from your chin and it went to the back of your neck, gingerly tilting your head up towards his. Your heart hammered almost painfully against your ribcage, beating way too hard and way too fast for him not to feel it against his own chest. You had to silently remind yourself to breathe as Javi inched his face closer to yours, slowly. You knew that he was doing it on purpose, moving an agonizingly glacial pace to allow your anticipation to build; all the while his dark eyes were staring deeply into the depths of your very fucking soul, causing a fire to set ablaze deep in your lower belly.

Your thighs clenched together involuntarily as the tip of his nose skimmed a spot near the corner of your mouth, his lips brushing the underside of your jawline.

God, he was fucking good.

“Javi…” You uttered his name weakly.

You needed to stop this. Javier was your friend—friends didn’t do shit like this.

Javi sensed your reluctance. “It’s alright, mi vida,” he whispered, uttering an affectionate pet name that he’d never used before. He gave you a small grin as he moved in to finally close the small gap of space between your faces. His lips met yours and every ridiculous cliché of sparks flying and fireworks exploding occurred the moment they did. His tongue swept across your bottom lip, gently coaxing its way into your mouth to begin a slow, sensual dance with yours. Cupping the back of your neck, he tilted your head up a bit further, granting himself better access to your mouth so that he could fully explore it inch by inch.

There was kissing other men.

And then there was kissing Javier.

Whimpering, your body melted against his as he swelled your lips with a kiss that was slow and sensual, yet somehow still hungry and possessive at the same time. Javier’s hands travelled down to your hips, his fingers skimming the hem of his shirt that you wore. He took the opportunity to sneak them underneath the garment, allowing them to meet the warmth of your skin.

Gasping, you jerked back and pulled away from him.

“Javier!” You squeaked out his name breathlessly, furiously swatting his hands away from your sides. You glared at him. “I thought we agreed, our clothes fucking stay on!”

“Funny, I wasn’t aware that I was taking any of your clothes off.” Javier reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. He then took a step backwards and gestured towards your bed. “Lay down.”

Your mouth fell open at his request.

“W-what?” You sputtered out, your eyes wide.

“You heard me. Get on the bed and lay down.”

Javi reached down, sweeping your pile of dresses off of the bed and onto the floor.

“Why? What are you going to do?” You questioned him, shuffling anxiously from one bare foot to the other.

Javier rolled his eyes and let out a small, impatient sigh. “Just do it, hermosa. You can trust me.”

Swallowing harshly, you obeyed him and walked around to the side of your bed, taking a seat. You inhaled another deep breath before bringing your legs up and laying back, your head resting against your decorative pillows. You nervously tugged and pulled at the hem of his stolen pink shirt, trying to cover yourself up as best as you could as you laid there, sprawled out before him; however Javier had other plans. He climbed onto the bed after you, positioning his body so it hovered over yours. He nudged your legs apart with his knee, settling himself right in between your thighs. He grabbed one of your legs and hiked it up around his waist, putting the two of you in a very, very dangerous position. His fingers remained wrapped around your thigh, his touch burning right into your soft flesh as he held your leg in place around him.

“Don’t be shy, muñequita.” His voice had gone low and husky. He trailed his hand further up your thigh.

He grinned, feeling satisfied with himself when he felt the goosebumps erupt across your skin.

“Shut up, I’m not shy,” You fibbed, prompting him to chuckle.

“Mentirosa.” Javi’s hand abandoned your leg and he brought his hand up to the side of your face to cradle your cheek in his palm. His thumb brushed across your bottom lip.

“Kiss me,” he commanded, gently. “And this time, kiss me like you mean it.”

You reached up for him with trembling hands and grabbed two fistfuls of his pewter blue, button up shirt. You pulled him down towards you and lifted yourself up slightly off your pillows, crashing your mouth against his. You allowed yourself to finally release any fears that you might have had before and kissed him greedily and with fervor, as if it would be the very last time you’d ever get to kiss Javier Peña—because it very well could be the last time you would ever get to kiss Javier Peña.

You kissed him deeply, going on until your lungs began to burn—you only broke away from him once they started screaming, demanding oxygen.

Tearing yourself apart from him, you released his shirt and dropped back down onto your pillows, breathlessly asking, “Better?”

“Oh, so much better. Good girl, mi muñequita linda,” he praised, grinning again as he caressed the silkiness of your cheek. He lowered his head and lips ghosted over yours for a moment before he moved them down your neck, feathering kisses to any exposed skin peeking out from underneath his shirt. His hand found your breast and he groaned realizing that you weren’t wearing a bra underneath it. He kneaded the perfect, soft mound of flesh through the thin fabric, rolling your hardened nipple between his fingers. He bucked his hips into yours, causing a loud moan to escape from your lips the second you felt his hardened cock through his tight, light blue jeans. He caught sight of the way you blushed at the sound that he’d elicited from you and his grin widened. “Noises like that? The louder the better. So don’t hold back, preciosa.”

“What else can I do to make you—to make him feel good?”

Javier dipped his face right into the hollow of your neck, thinking it over for a moment. “A woman who takes control can be very sexy. I like it—I bet he’ll like it if you get on top.”

“I think I can do that.” Biting your bottom lip, you placed your hands on his chest and pushed him back, sliding yourself out from underneath him. You guided him to lay back onto your pillows and climbed on top of him, straddling his waist.

Shit. Javier cursed inwardly.

Maybe he’d been in over his head with this idea.

He knew at some point he’d have to stop it from going too far—but would he be able to?

“How do you like it?” You asked him, shyly. This time, you hadn’t bothered to correct yourself.

You didn’t want to know how to please another man.

You wanted to know how to please Javi.

Even if you’d never get the chance to do it.

“Depends on the mood,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders in the most nonchalant manner that he could muster under the circumstances—as if his cock wasn’t rock hard, straining against the zipper of his jeans and begging to be inside you.

“Te gusta despacito?” You start to rock your hips back and forth against his, slowly. “Do you like it slow?”

Javier’s breath hitched in the back his throat. At this point, there was no doubt about it—you could feel him underneath you, throbbing. “Sometimes,” he managed to choke out in reply. “Like I said. Just depends on the mood.”

“Or what about like this?” You grinned down at him, gaining a sense of confidence as you started to move faster on top of him, finding your perfect rhythm. You could see and clearly feel what you were doing to him. Knowing that you were having this kind of effect on Peña was nothing short of a fucking dream come true.

His hands went to your hips, holding on as you picked up the pace, grinding your clothed core down against his bulge.

You could feel your own arousal pooling between your legs, soaking your panties; you wouldn’t be surprised if you’d leave behind a wet spot on his jeans. “How am I doing?”

“Fucking amazing, muñeca,” he answered, earnestly. His long, thick fingers dug into your sides as he suggested, “It helps if you put on a little show while you’re up there, too.” He then pictured you in that sexy black lingerie set you’d bought; he imagined what it would be like to slip that tiny little thong to the side so you could freely ride his cock. The mere thought had him seeing stars.

“A show, huh?” You smirked and popped the top two buttons of your shirt—his shirt—exposing the smooth valley between your breasts to him. “I think I can do that too,” You giggled, pulling the fabric to the side, just enough to give him the tiniest glimpse of the soft curves of your chest but not enough to expose yourself completely.

“Hermosa,” he couldn’t help but groan out. It took every ounce of strength he had inside him not to reach up and tear his shirt right off of you so he could see all of you.

You grabbed his hands from your hips and slowly began guiding them all around your body. You started by placing them on your breasts, giving him permission to cop another feel before moving them slowly down the lengths of your sides and placing them on your bare thighs. From there, you picked up Javi’s hands once more and placed them behind you, allowing him to take two generous handfuls of your ass. Your hands then abandoned his and you placed them on his chest, supporting yourself as you continued to roll your hips against his, riding him through his jeans. You tossed your head back and closed your eyes; the friction of your clit against his pelvis even through all the clothes felt like absolute heaven, and you let out a lustful moan that bounced off of your bedroom walls as you continued to drive your hips harder against his own.

Realizing that this was no longer a lesson and you were actually pleasuring yourself, Javier groaned again. He moved his hands back to your hips and found himself bucking his own hips upwards to meet you halfway—he abandoned any and all worries about taking it too far. He wanted you to come.

He needed to see you come.

“Javi,” You gasped his name, moaning again.

“That’s it, muñeca,” he rasped out. “Just like that, baby. Keep going. What a good girl, what a good fucking girl.”

Any and all common sense had been washed away by pleasure and by your need to reach that sweet, sweet release.

It was so close. You felt him right there, right between your clothed folds, and all you could do was imagine what it would be like to have his cock fill you up and stretch you completely.

His name began to slip from your lips, rolling off of your tongue over and over again with such ease.

Your movements fell in perfect sync with his.

You went down, he went up.

You pulled, he pushed.

No doubt about it, Javier was trying to get you off.

Somehow, you find a voice that speaks in between all your pitiful little pants.

“J-Javi, maybe we s-shouldn’t—”

Javier quickly sat up and wrapped one of his arms around your waist. He slammed your mouths together, silencing you mid sentence. He thrusted upwards, and you whined into his kiss, rubbing your clit against his bulge even harder.

The beginning of your orgasm coiled up tightly in your belly, and you knew it would spring forward any second now.

“Javi, I’m so close—”

“It’s okay, hermosa. Come for me,” he mumbled into your mouth. “I’ve got you.”

Your arms found their way around his shoulders and you buried your face into his neck. Squeezing your eyes shut, your loud cries came out muffled against his collarbone as you unraveled, coming undone with one last cry of his name.

You slumped forward, resting your head on his shoulder as you fought to catch your breath, the pleasure still pulsing between your thighs.

Javier’s other arm curled around you and he said nothing as he held you.

Once you’d finally started coming down from your high, your eyes flew open and a chill went up the length of your spine.

What had you two just done?

Still straddling his lap, you pulled back. “Javi—”

Without warning, Javier flipped you over so you were on your back underneath him once again. He hovered over you, his eyes meeting yours for just a moment before he dipped his head and captured your lips with his one final, deep and sensual kiss.

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about tonight,” he murmured once he had pulled away. “You’re fucking perfect, mi vida.”

He touched the tip of his nose to yours before climbing off of you.

“I fucking hope this guy realizes what a lucky son of a bitch he is,” Javier said quietly before turning on the heel of his boot and walking out of your bedroom, leaving you laying there with your mouth parted open in complete shock.

Translations

Solo es una bromita, muñeca. No tienes por qué ofenderte. - It’s just a little joke, doll. No need to get offended.

El vestido rojo. - The red dress.

Te lo juro, Javi. - I swear to you, Javi.

Chismosas - Gossipers

Falta mucha tela, cariño. - There is a lot of fabric missing, darling.

Mentirosa. - Liar.

Te gusta despacito? - Do you like it a little slow?

#javier peña #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña x y/n #javier peña x you #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x reader #javier peña fic #javier peña angst #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x y/n #javier pena #pedro pascal characters #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #javier peña smut #narcos smut #javier pena smut

7K notes · View notes

pomefioredove · 1 month

Note

Hey Dove~

I was reading through the different headcannons and the mute reader really caught my attention. Could you possibly do the Vice Wardens (including Ruggie cuz he's basically second in command anyway) with Yuu that has a speech impediment? Basically they stutter/stumble on words, get them mixed up, pronounces them wrong, and maybe forgets certain words. And obviously with new arcana and magical words (and the weird ahh names some of these characters have) they can get pretty frusterated or embarressed.

You always have such good headcannons!! Feel free to throw in any other characters that you like to the mix as well!!

OH this hits close to home too. I stutter and mispronounce things when I do speak, so I'm using that for reference

twst x mute reader

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ reader with a speech impediment

summary: as described type of post: headcanons characters: trey, ruggie, jade, jamil, rook, lilia additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu

see, I don't think Trey would say anything about it

he's not one to criticize strangeness

that would be rude, first of all

second of all, there's no such thing as "normal" at NRC

(even so, some people may point it out, but he's not one of them)

he doesn't have any trouble understanding you, either

he grew up with younger siblings who pronounced owl as "awa" and kitty as "shishi" until they were six

he's certainly patient

and he knows how to use context

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

honestly? Ruggie didn't even... notice?

for a while, he just thought you talked fast

he knows how it goes; you get excited or nervous or whatever, and you end up stumbling all over yourself

no biggie

then one day you come up to him all sad and teary, apologizing for a speech impediment he didn't even know you had, and he's like...

...oh! no!

of course he's not annoyed!

Ruggie's an adaptive guy, after all. when he wants something, he'll bend backwards for it

you think a little stuttering is gonna stop him from being friends with you?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

much like Trey, Jade doesn't say anything

he just watches you talk

and smiles

like this -> :)

it's not that he's particularly concerned about being rude, he's just...

observing

humans are such fascinating creatures, he thinks

he learns all of your quirks just by listening to you

which words you have trouble with, which ones you mix up and forget, which consonants you stumble over...

he teaches himself your language

and he becomes a sort of translator for you

any time someone is rude to you, he'll come out of nowhere and tell them everything you said in the exact order you said it

weird, but nice

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

to put it plainly, Jamil has bigger problems

whether or not he can understand you doesn't really matter to him

it's not his job to worry over you

then, you come to him asking for help, and...

...well, he's flattered

he can't deny he likes that you come to him for guidance before anyone else

because of this, (and because he had to learn how to control his own tongue when he was little), he takes pity on you

whether your goal is to work on your speech, or to simply feel less anxiety about it, he's there

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

is it cliche to say that Rook already knows exactly what you're thinking?

perhaps, but it's true

he's mastered the art of observation

he can read your thoughts in your expression, your body language, even the slightest twitch in your lips gives you away

he just knows

you don't have to be a good speaker, or a speaker at all, to communicate with Rook

(and he can do all the talking for you if you'd like, he'd probably enjoy that)

and, of course, he is of the opinion that there is beauty in everything

you don't need to be perfectly clear and concise for him to like you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

now, I can't guarantee that Lilia won't tease a little

only in good fun, of course

and only if you respond in kind

but he does find it rather cute when you mispronounce something, or mix up your words

he won't correct you or interrupt you, either

he'll step in to help if you're really struggling, of course, but he thinks of you as capable

he does remind you to take breathers when you're getting too anxious about it, though

he cares <3

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #queued #trey clover x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #jade leech x reader #jamil viper x reader #rook hunt x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader

561 notes · View notes

eamour · 3 months

Text

about negative thoughts.

"it is so hard to remain in my desired state and feel convinced… i keep having negative thoughts that pop out of the blue and just completely throw me off. i feel irritated, confused and i wonder if i'm truly living in the end. what do i do? how do i flip every thought? am even i doing this right?"

let’s talk about it!

thoughts and states.

in my latest post "dominant thoughts and dwelling states" or my "states" post, i have already talked about what states and thoughts are, how they "function" and what the difference between the two is. here is a short summary:

thoughts come from your state.

your dominant thoughts give insight to your state.

your dominant thoughts equal your dwelling state.

intrusive thoughts, as long as not identified with, don’t manifest.

your state manifests, not your single thoughts.

you are not your state, you are your "i am".

there is an infinite number of states.

you enter and exit states all day long.

now, you know that thoughts can only manifest if you assume them to be true, making them your dwelling state. but even if you know all of this, it still may not stop you from having undesirable thoughts here and there. so, how do we deal with them?

about all thoughts.

now, let's take a look at the characteristics of thoughts.

all thoughts are neutral. negative thoughts, just like positive ones, don’t have any meaning pre-assigned to them. they are all neutral until you categorise them to positive or negative. meaning, they are the exact same.

… therefore, thoughts don’t hold any power. thoughts don’t have any truth attached to them. no state has. because you are not your state. you are your i am. you decide what’s truthful to you or not, which state you want to occupy and which thoughts you want to have. your thoughts look at YOU for validation.

all thoughts are equal. because of that, negative thoughts aren’t easier to manifest than positive ones. all thoughts hold the same "value" or no value at all. they are all equally easy to manifest.

all thoughts are temporary. and thus, all states are as well. especially intrusive thought’s come from a place of fear, uncertainty and insecurity. who is feeling all those? who is controlling all those? YOU. you are not as out of control as you may think. just like you can alter a thought, you can alter the very origin of it — your state. you dictate your state and your thoughts.

all thoughts are yours. imagination creates reality, meaning creation comes from you. all thoughts and furthermore all states stem from your own awareness. there is no need to feel intimidated by them!

step by step resolution.

1 · emotion · this is the first thing we will do whenever we have a very mean thought — so mean, it makes it hard for you to change it on the spot or ignore it: we let ourselves feel the way that thought makes us feel. some thoughts, you can choose not to absorb but rather observe. however, if you do absorb them (which can definitely happen), make sure to embrace them. let out all the emotions they make you feel. express them. talk to a friend, scream into the void, bawl out your eyes… whatever helps your nervous system to relieve and regulate. you are not meant to internalise all that negativity.

2 · reflection · reflect on your unfavourable thoughts. ask yourself "is this thought helping me? do i want to continue thinking this? does this do me any good?". if yes, keep thinking it. if not, stop thinking it, forget it and correct it.

⋮ 2 · attention · some thoughts don’t need to be corrected for them to not affect you negatively. some of them can be entirely ignored and disregarded. not every little thought needs to be investigated. you don’t need to monitor every thought of yours. let them pass you by. don’t assign any meaning to them. renounce them. learn to be indifferent to certain thoughts. take your attention away from them. sometimes, that's enough. because some thoughts need to be dealt with a certain level of neglect. otherwise you will only drive yourself insane. ⋮

3 · identification · realise where the thought is coming from. most likely, it’s coming from your limited human self. but you are your unbounded god self. return to it! you have what you want and you are who you want to be. stop contemplating on your unwanted circumstances and focus on your end. continue to live from there. don’t just think of it, embody it. fully claim it. it’s your end. your reality. change the direction of your thoughts and remind yourself of your actual identity — GOD.

in short, feel your emotions, reflect on your thoughts, abandon negative thoughts, declare them as wrong and replace them with positive ones, remember your desired version of self, embody it and persist.

important.

before you go, there is one last thing i want to touch on. changing your thoughts, distancing yourself from unfavourable situations and trying to persist while feeling triggered by something external… can be very challenging. what i mean is, it takes determination, dedication and discipline. you need to be courageous and eager enough to make tough decisions, to choose your ending of the story and side with YOURself, even when you actually want to. but it’s possible. it’s attainable. it’s doable. you know what you want and you are going to continue to live your truth, with conviction and commitment!

you will do it. and you will succeed.

with love, ella.

631 notes · View notes

xjulixred45x · 9 months

Text

OKAY MY LAST INVINCIBLE POST BEFORE DEDICATING TO REQUESTS FOR THE REST OF THE MONTH DON'T KILL ME! THIS TIME IT'S FLUFF!

Mark Grayson/Invincible x Starfire!Reader

Imagine being an alien similar to DC's Starfire, you can follow the original line of the character (I follow more than anything the one from the comics or the 2003 series) where your planet was conquered by another race (thanks to your sister) Or you can go the more "family friendly" line, which is that you decided to explore the world outside your home planet but ended up in the hands of some kind of intergalactic trafficking network.

I imagine that if it is the first case, it is most likely that your race has been conquered by the Viltrumite themselves, which caused a MASSACRE to occur from which you and your sister were miraculously able to escape.

Regardless of what you choose, you ended up on Earth, although having gone through great traumatic events, so when you see this new world, with a strange species, you begin to attack by mere instinct (like what Starfire did in the first chapter of Teen Titans)

That's when Mark or rather INVINCIBLE appears.

He tries to fight you at first, get you away from the civilians, that is until he realizes how scared you are (especially if we're talking about the case of the Viltrumite invasion and you realize that Mark IS a Viltrumite). So he tries to change his strategy and try to calm you down as much as he can.

When he succeeds, he ends up taking you to the Globe's guardians to see what to do. I imagine that you are a little different than the original Starfire, you are more scared and defensive in this situation, at first you only trusted Mark.

For this reason, Cecil decides that you will stay in the Pentagon until they know what to do with you. Mark helps you learn the "normal" things of the Earth and show Cecil that you are not a threat.

(if you had to learn the human language by "lip contact" the whole team definitely makes fun of Mark a little for being in love now).

Imagine Mark and Eve bringing you clothes to try on!🥺Eve probably just created it out of nowhere, but she also brings clothes that her parents give her that she doesn't want and for some reason you like.

Mark offers to help you train! At first he tries to go easy on you, but when you almost knock him out with your laser beams, he learns his lesson.

He definitely takes you out to eat junk food! More when he realizes that the Pentagon's food doesn't help you much because of your big appetite. Mark was surprised at how much food you could eat but luckily Cecil pays for it (just don't tell him yet🤫)

Definitely one of Mark's favorite things about you, when you're over the trauma, is your innocent attitude, even after all, you're very bubbly and friendly. which is at least difficult to find in your line of work, so he wants to keep that part of yourself as much as possible.

Mark definitely took you to meet his mother, at first he was a little nervous that she wouldn't accept you after what happened with his father, but surprisingly Debbie took it very well.

Thanks to this you were able to learn more about the culture of the Earth, you constantly asked Debbie about the places she had seen, what they were like and their culture (even some anecdotes about Mark when he was a child), and with your bubbly and youthful attitude she did not It was difficult for Debbie to warm to you easily.

Apart from that it helped you fall in love with the Earth quite quickly, see its beauty for yourself, which encouraged you to be your own version of a hero.

When you want to become a heroine, Mark enters into an internal conflict. On the one hand, he KNOWS very well that you don't want someone to make decisions for you, he respects that, but on the other hand, he is TERRIFIED by the possibility that you will get hurt, captured, or lose COMPLETLY your being or worse, DIE.

It is probably thanks to this conversation that you two become a couple.

In general, at first Mark tries to do your first patrols with you to teach you the basics, then he lets you do whatever you want, and he is SO PROUD when you beat someone.

"THAT IS MY GIRL!" kind of proud.

He definitely really likes flying with you and just wandering, at least he feels like there you two have more privacy. Apart from that he likes how you look in your element. according to him.

If you talk about the first case of origin that I mentioned at the beginning and your sister comes back, Mark sees through ALL the red flags and will be the first to warn you about her, since he went through something similar with his family, you don't want to go through that.

If both fight together, POWER COUPLE. LITERAL. You have certain skills that Mark doesn't, so they complement each other very well.

If Mark gets hurt, you go into RAMPAGE MODE and honestly? Mark doesn't know if he should be scared or more in love. or excited.

If YOU get hurt GOD HELP US, MARK IS ANGRY---someone is going to have a bad time. And You a Lot of cuddles.

Overall, both of them are like two Golden Retrievers being happy together.

@clemberryfriends

Shares, reblogs, and comments are very welcome

#invincible #invincible x reader #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson #invincible imagine #imagine invincible #drabble #fem reader #invincible season 2 #invincible show #invincible series #invincible spoilers

1K notes · View notes

bunnys-kisses · 16 days

Note

Hi bunny, I recently found ur page and have been binge reading ur posts, you’re so good!! I have a big order. Peach cake, Red velvet cupcake and a pound cake with strawberries. With a side of with dark hot chocolate and a glass of water, George Russell🙈… if it’s too many details do it however you want bcuz your writing is amazing <3

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! i love getting orders! i accept more than just formula one so i'm always happy to try different fandoms. so please! check it out! and thank you lovely anon, i'm happy you love my work! and thank you for submitting a george russell order because i've gotten people asking for him! so thank you! i hope you love it <3

peach cake: ("if you spill a drop, we start all over.") + red velvet cupcake: ("if you don't like being called a whore, then stop acting like one.") + pound cake with strawberries: ("you know i hate going over rules, but just because i like seeing you embarrassed, i'll tell you them again.") + dark hot chocolate: (sub!reader) + glass of water: (aftercare) served by george russell (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, sub!reader & dom!george, rules & punishments, spanking, sparkling water, jealousy, aftercare, doggy style,

"you're so lucky, honestly he sounds like a prince charming!" you once heard from someone when you were talking about your boyfriend, "george just seems like such a sweet guy. like he double checked to make sure that roses wouldn't make your cat sick? most guys can barely get flowers!"

you felt your ears burn at her words and nervously played with the bracelet around your left wrist. there was on charm on it, letter 'g' for your beloved. your boyfriend, your biggest fan.

your dom, george russell.

but even men who looked like princes in fairy tales could be a little jealous. george often appeared himself to be a very sweet guy, who'd never actually hurt someone. he was a force on the track and would do what he needed to win, but he'd never put his hands on another driver. he'd never get in their face or try to get violent.

but as he watched lando norris try his hardest to pick you up, george really wanted to knock some sense into the driver. just because a woman didn't wear a neon sign that said 'taken', it didn't mean they were free game to flirt with.

and you, the future mrs. russell, should know better. even though the weight of the bracelet you wore wasn't too much. he hoped that it was enough of a reminder to behave. listen to the rules that george had laid out for you.

when lando touched your bare arm, and you stepped back a little. george knew that he had to step in. he was at your side rather quickly, smiling at lando. he wrapped an arm around you.

"see you've met my girlfriend, mate." he smiled, putting all of his charm into it, "i was looking for her." his hand snaked to your ass and you gave it a firm squeeze. you weren't off the hook.

"oh this is-" lando looked at you, "i didn't recognize her, mate. i'm so sorry!"

george was a little unconvinced when he replied,"yeah, a haircut can do that." even though you hadn't styled your hair differently in years. george didn't get too aggressive with the fellow driver because now that he was close to him, he could see that the drink in his hand was large and his stance implied it wasn't the first one of the evening.

but, george made sure that you didn't have a drop of alcohol. so while lando was drunk, you were well aware of the rules that your dom had set for you. the driver leaned to your ear and said, ""you know i hate going over rules, but just because i like seeing you embarrassed, i'll tell you them again."

and you swallowed, knowing you'd get a lecture when your boyfriend steered you away from the drunken racer. you felt the tip of your ears grow hot and you played with the bracelet. despite how nervous you felt, george was all smiles as he told lando to have a good night.

as you walked away, your lover's voice was hot in your ear, "no flirting. remember? you are mine, and i don't need other men getting their hands on you." he held you by the back. he kissed your cheek softly, "when rules are broken, there are punishments." this was part of your dynamic.

you knew there would be a punishment when you got home and you were right. a bottle of sparkling water from the grocery store was opened. and with you on your knees, opened your mouth. this was a punishment of endurance and being unbreakable. george poured a mouthful in your mouth then closed your jaw. he said, "if you spill a drop, we start all over."

you nodded before you got up onto your feet. your legs shaky as he put the bottle down on the nightstand. you held the water in your mouth as you got over his lap. you could feel his hard cock against your stomach. the goal of the punishment was to hold the water in your mouth even if the carbonation made your eyes run. and george spanked you for every infraction you did.

"you're a whore." he said as he rubbed your bare ass. he stripped you down to nothing as soon as you got home. you were to be laid out naked for him. he on the other hand was still in the shirt and slacks fro the party. it only added to the dynamic, you were exposed for him while he got to stay dressed. he slapped your ass, "you're a whore, you let norris get his hands all over you. you know if you let him suck on your pretty breasts or fuck your poor pussy, you'd be thrown away by the next day." he landed another spank across your ass.

you whimpered, trying to hold the water in your mouth. the spanks made it hard to not choke on it or have to drip out of your mouth. the bubbles of it made you feel discomfort in your face. but you had to be good.

"but not me. i'd never do that to you." he said softly, "you are my treasure. you know there's rules, that you have to be well behaved for me. or else we're going to have problems. you're my girlfriend, my love, my submissive." he landed a few more spanks across your ass, he watched your body shake with each of his slaps. but you didn't spill a drop.

the knowledge of that made george smile to himself. it wasn't hard to train you to be an amazing sub, you were always so eager to make him proud. you took your punishments with grace. he landed a few more smacks across your ass, "but you are my whore in the end. my responsibility to teach and fuck." he groped your bruised ass which made you whine.

you kicked out your legs as if you were trying to say that you weren't a whore. that you were a good girl, but it was only met with another hard smack across your cheeks. you arched your back and whined more.

"if you don't like being called a whore, then stop acting like one." he said as a warning. he took you by the jaw to look at him. your craned your neck to get a good look at your prince charming. he smiled, "swallow. then hands and knees."

you swallowed and nodded happily. and like a good girl, you opened your mouth to show you swallowed it all. you earned a pat on the cheek, which made you melt a little. you got off his lap, leaving pussy slick across his black slacks.

george noticed it and chuckled lightly before he started to unbutton his shirt. you were a messy little slut, but george adored you. he was only rough because he knew it was best for you. you were a smart girl, you just needed reminders. once he was out of his clothes, he saw you with your hips raised. ready for him as always.

"my beautiful girl." he said as got himself behind you on his knees. he admired your beauty from behind. he could feel the heat of the bruises on your ass when he placed his hand across one of the cheeks. oh, you were perfect for him, "see, norris could never have you like this. no, no. he wouldn't know what do with himself. he'd probably finish before he started." he chuckled as he gave your ass a pat. he pushed his cock all the way into you, you were beyond soaked that it was so easy for him

he started to move his hips, he pushed you into the covers by your shoulders and had the perfect angle to fuck you. you looked so pretty as you took him. you really were a good girl, the farthest thing from a whore. but he knew it excited you when your prince charming, george russell, called you such sick names. it made you hot all over, just as when he fucked you with heavy thrusts.

"ah, george. sir." you arched your back as he hit the softest parts of you. you felt like a dream, you were a fairy tale princess. from your cute face to how you dressed. to how you were good with everyone but always perfect for george. you took his cock perfectly, made for him like you came from pages of a story. it was why he need to fuck you was always so strong.

"perfect little whore." he said, his voice tinged with praise.

you moved a little bit and felt your knees start to hurt from the feeling of it all. you felt a thump in your chest from his words. you held onto the pillow under your head. your ass stung from the feeling of the previous slaps.

"see what happens when you behave. you know i'll take care of you. always, but you have to remember our rules. they're to keep you safe. you are the most important thing to me. that's why i hate when you're a whore." he continued to thrust up against you.

you believed him. that was why you put so much trust into him.he never steered you wrong. you loved him so much. and he loved you, even when he called you names in the safety of your bedroom, you loved him more than anything.

his thrusts were focused and they made you squirm. it made it feel like he was nudging up into your stomach and it took the air out of you. your pussy was a fit for him.

you held onto the covers with your back arched. you panted heavily into them. everything was hot in your body, you panted heavily into the sheets. "please, sir."

"you know i love you, and this all happens because i love you so much. and i know how good you could be for me." he said hotly into your ear, keeping you pinned to the bed.

the blood rush made your toes curled and you came with your hands buried in the soft sheets of your shared bed. you gasped into the pillow and you back arched. it was all too much, you almost had tears in your eyes.

he finished after you did, then slowly came to a stop. he pushed his entire length into you and bottomed out in you. he shuddered and coughed out a moan. his grip on you was tight. and you came once more from the intensity of it all. the sparks in your brain came alive.

your back arched as you felt him slow down and stop. you both tried to catch your breath before george pulled out and wrapped himself up around you. he got the covers over you and kissed at your face with love.

"do you need water?" being a good dom meant aftercare. especially from such a production. he peppered your face with kisses and held you in his arms, "i think there's something in the fridge you could snack on."

you looked at him and cupped his face gently, you said with half-lidded eyed, "just some water. when i can think again maybe a shower, sir."

he kissed your lips and said, "perfect, good. my good girl." even with the bruises across your ass, you felt on cloud nine. there really was nothing like having a dom. especially the kind like george. your prince charming <3

325 notes · View notes

mionemymind · 5 months

Text

Blood Drive

Summary: While donating at a local blood drive, Y/n stumbles up the best nurse in town, Wanda Maximoff. Unable to get Wanda out of her mind, Y/n goes through a lengthy process just to ask her out.

Warnings: Fluff, Blood Donations, Passing Out, Needles, Happy Ending

A/n: Not gonna lie, I think it's somewhat getting easier to write kissing scenes but I still have to look at a tumblr post just to figure out the wording for it. Let me know what you think :)

Word Count: 4.0k

Masterlist

In an era of new politics, the Mayor of New York City declared that registered heroes of the city had to do mandated community service. This was a new mission to help build relationships between the regular folk of New York City and the heroes that harbor it. Because let’s be honest, having Hulk throw your new car at the enemy was not the best introduction for regular people.

Those who harbored powers relaying force or strength helped out in the trade industry. You’d often see super soldiers helping out in the demolition zone by crushing what was needed. Those with magic tried their best to help heal the homeless or aided at soup kitchens. Anywhere you can unconventionally help, the heroes did.

For Y/n, it was a lot of physically demanding tasks. Such as helping families move from apartment to apartment. Or helping police officers move accidents out of the way. Sometimes, she would even demonstrate how to safely carry a person through a burning building for the local firefighters.

Today, however, Y/n decided to do something different. Rather than focusing on the same physical tasks, she chose a simpler mundane task. “Hi there, are you here for the blood drive?” Y/n nodded in agreement to the receptionist upfront. “Just sign in for me right here. Have you filled out the online rapid pass?”

“Yes, I have the QR code screenshotted.” The receptionist smiled warmly. ��Perfect. Someone will be with you soon. Please have a seat in our waiting area.”

Y/n walked towards the waiting room area. This was the fourth thing on her list of community service opportunities to try. She wasn’t quite sure if her blood was even allowed to be donated, having the super soldier serum in her surely could cause a reaction to a regular human.

After some tests back at the compound, the staff found everything to be okay. That’s how Y/n ended up in a place like this.

“Y/n Y/l/n.” Getting up from her seat, Y/n followed a nurse in red scrubs to a different area. “How are you today?”

“I’m good. I'm a little nervous. I’ve never done this before.” The nurse led them to a private part of a huge common room. Multiple stations were built throughout with various people donating blood. “It’s okay to be nervous, but the worst feeling you’ll get today is just a small prick.”

Y/n breathed out slightly in relief. “Let me first get your basic information.” The nurse had gone over Y/n’s personal information but was immediately flagged by the date of birth. “It says you were born on April 2, 1917. It must’ve been a typo.”

The nurse almost changed it to 1971. “Actually ma’am, that is the correct birth date.”

“So you mean to tell me you were born during World War I?” The nurse was unwilling to believe the joke that was being played. Y/n could immediately tell from the look she gave. “It was the Great War at the time, but yes ma’am I was born in 1917. I’m actually a super soldier.”

The nurse went back to her computer and typed in more information to store on Y/n’s file. “Ah - I see. I’m sorry about that. There’s already a note on your file. It looks like your director has already approved your donation today.”

Y/n sighed in relief, while she didn’t mind explaining to people her situation of being frozen for so long, it was strenuous trying to get them to understand it all. The rest of the consultation went along smoothly as she gathered the remaining information such as Y/n’s hemoglobin and her rapid pass.

“Alright dear, let’s get you to a bed.” The nurse led them back to the common area where all the beds were laid out. “Just sit right here for me, right now we currently have a special volunteer today that’s helping out with the drive. She’ll come over in a couple of seconds to help you out. But if you have any questions, please feel free to let us know.”

Y/n sat up on the reclined bed and looked at her phone. She scrolled through her messages to make sure nothing important was happening. The sound of someone clearing their throat gained her attention. “Y/n?” As Y/n looked up, she could physically feel the moment that time stopped again. Was it possible that she fell back into the ice again? Surely she would feel the same numbness as before. But it was all different. Because from just one look from this girl would be enough to melt all the ice away.

Y/n’s breath hitched as she locked eyes with her. “I- yes, that’s me.” Y/n cleared her throat, embarrassed at the lack of composure she had.

“Nice to meet you today. My name is Wanda Maximoff and I’ll be helping you with your blood donation today.” All Y/n could do was nod as she further realized that the woman in front of her was the Scarlet Witch.

Wanda looked through her notes on the clipboard. “It looks like it’s your first time donating, is that true?” Y/n’s eyes remained locked on Wanda. It was embarrassing how much she couldn’t look away. “Uh yes. It is.”

“Do you have a preference on which arm you would like to use today?” Y/n shook her head in disagreement. “No preference at all.”

Wanda wrote down more information when a note caught her eye. “S.H.I.E.L.D. approval - are you a member?” Wanda looked over at the young girl in front of her trying to see if she could remember the pretty face.

“I’m one of their new recruits. Only been active for three months.” And suddenly, Y/n seemed to never mind all the questions that Wanda could possibly ask. If it meant talking to her, Y/n would oblige.

“That’s great to hear. If you don’t mind me asking, do you have any powers that we should be aware of?”

“Well, I think you’re aware of my counterpart, Bucky Barnes. We both have a super soldier serum.” Wanda smiled at the mention of her old teammate/acquaintance.

“Interesting. How come I haven’t heard about you before?” Wanda couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow she had managed to miss this girl for three months.

Y/n scratched the back of her neck sheepishly. “You know how Steve was found in ice right?” Wanda nodded. “That’s basically the same situation I was in but rather than crashing into the arctic, I was in a freezer chamber. I’ve been awake for only ten months.” The shock on Wanda’s face was apparent.

“Sorry to keep asking,” Y/n never minded, “how has it been like adjusting back to the new life?” Y/n shrugged indifferently.

“A little rough. I do miss my friends back from my time, but Bucky has been trying his best to help me. However, he has been focused on helping the new Captain America, Sam?”

Wanda nodded, confirming that Y/n’s information was correct. “I do enjoy the fact that I’m no longer Hydra’s soldier though. More than anything, I’m just glad to have a second chance in life. Not a lot of people get that so I’m pretty thankful.”

Wanda digested Y/n’s words and was pretty enlightened at Y/n’s outlook on life. “Thank you for answering all my questions.”

“It’s no problem.”

“Now, let's get you set up to donate.” Wanda proceeded to bring out a couple of items from the nearby stand. On the table beside Y/n, Wanda placed various tubes and empty bags. Although it was nothing, the sight made Y/n feel slightly uncomfortable. It reminded her too much of Hydra’s labs but minus the dark atmosphere and torture that came with it.

As if sensing her discomfort, Wanda grabbed a disinfectant and started to disinfect Y/n’s left arm around the area inside her elbow. “Ya know, for being so nice and cooperative. How about you ask me a couple of questions? It makes the day go by faster.”

Bringing herself out of her internal thoughts, Y/n asked the first thing that came to mind. “You’re the Scarlet Witch, right?”

It was Wanda’s turn to blush. She hadn’t expected Y/n to recognize her so quickly, especially since she just got back to the real world. “I am.”

“I wasn’t aware that you could help with the American Red Cross as part of your community service.” Wanda grabbed a marker and a squeezable toy. She placed the toy in Y/n’s left hand stating, “Give me three big squeezes and hold on the last squeeze.”

While pressing around Y/n’s elbow, she continued with, “I had to do some training to get qualified. A lot of the people who use magic generally help in other areas.” Wanda marked a dot followed by a line. “You can stop squeezing now.”

“I’m gonna disinfect one more time and then I’ll have to poke you. Are you scared of needles?” Feeling more embarrassed, Y/n looked away as she said, “Yes.”

“All good. Just means I’ll have to give you a small distraction.” Wanting to distract herself even more, Y/n asked, “Why did you decide to do this rather than something in your wheelhouse?”

Wanda thought about it before replying with, “I like the normalcy of it. On the plus side, it feels more rewarding. Like I’m actually earning my community time rather than going the easy way of using my powers.” As Wanda finished disinfecting, she blew on Y/n’s elbow hoping it would dry fast.

“When I give you the go-ahead, I’ll have to ask you to give me three more squeezes and hold on to the last one, okay?” Y/n nodded and waited for the signal.

“And - go.” Y/n did as told, but as she did her last squeeze and held, red wispy magic flowed in front of her morphing into swirls in the air. “Woah.” She followed the magic with her eyes, not even noticing that Wanda had already poked her and started the transfusion.

“Should be about 10 minutes. Every couple of seconds give the toy a small squeeze to keep it going.” Y/n glanced away from the magic amazed with Wanda. “That didn’t even hurt.” For the first time in Y/n’s life, she didn’t scream when the needles came.

Wanda couldn’t help but keep the magic up for a little longer. The dopey look on Y/n’s face was something she didn’t want to go away.

“I told you I would distract you.” Y/n was at a loss of words. Her brain jumbled for anything but all she could focus on was that Wanda Maximoff successfully distracted her. She had a natural caring heart, something the media failed to show.

“Your magic is beautiful by the way.” Y/n savored the last few seconds of it before it completely disappeared.

Wanda’s magic has been called many things in life, powerful, destructive, and manipulative but none have ever said beautiful…till now. “Thank you Y/n.”

There was a small silence as Wanda stayed to make sure Y/n was okay. “I’ll be assisting other volunteers, but if you start to feel like you're fainting, just call me over, okay?”

“I will.” Would it have been wrong to immediately fake an injury just to get Wanda back? Possibly but Y/n weighed the consequences and none could compare to her. So as Wanda left, Y/n used her free hand to call Bucky. After a couple of rings, he picked up the phone. “Hey, Y/n.”

Getting straight to the point, “Is Wanda Maximoff single?”

“Uhh - I think so. She and this synthezoid, Vision, used to date but I believe they broke up a year ago. Why do you ask?” Y/n looked at Wanda who was across the room. Her radiant smile could be spotted from miles away. “Just wanting to gather intel. Thanks Bucky.”

Y/n hung up the phone, not caring about what Bucky had to say back. Her eyes lingered back to Wanda. No matter how much she distracted herself with her phone, her eyes always glanced back on Wanda Maximoff. Her hair was tied up in a high ponytail and all she wore was matching red scrubs. But everything about her looked and felt beautiful.

Little did Y/n know, Wanda was admiring her too.

The blood donation was soon over, quicker than Y/n anticipated. Wanda had already come over, stopped the machine, and disconnected the line from Y/n’s arm. She taped a cotton ball on top of the area she poked and proceeded to wrap a red bandage around Y/n’s elbow. “You keep this red bandage on for two hours and the cotton ball for four hours.”

Wanda grabbed a pamphlet that had Y/n’s personal information and gave it to her. “Don’t miss a single meal for the next eight weeks. Make sure to drink plenty of water as well. If you feel dizzy in the next couple of hours, be sure to call this number, okay?”

Y/n nodded. Her mind was elsewhere at the moment, trying to find ways to ask Wanda Maximoff out. “Do you have any questions for me though?”

Y/n opened her mouth, wanting to ask her, “Are you busy after this?” But nothing came out. And the more she tried to say words, the more silence that remained.

“Wanda!” The pair turned to the employee that shouted her name. “I have someone that needs your help after you're done with your current volunteer.”

“Understood.” Wanda looked back at Y/n. “We have snacks and shirts over there but I think you should be good now. Thank you for donating today.”

As Wanda walked off, Y/n couldn’t help but beat herself up for not asking. She took a couple snacks and juice boxes before walking out of the donation center.

Was Y/n in love? Not quite yet. Infatuated? Probably. It was the best explanation as to why she was back at the blood drive the very next day. The brown eyed girl paced around all night trying to think of ways to see Wanda again. And the very first realistic idea she thought of was to donate blood again.

The super soldier practically begged the compound to give her another approval to donate blood stating that her super serum allowed for faster recovery. When no one could argue with her logic, they allowed a special approval to donate so soon.

So when Y/n followed all the same directions, all the same questions, she was met with disappointment when she didn’t see the redhead that captured her mind. “Hi, my name is Lucy and I’ll be helping you today.”

As Lucy proceeded to set up, Y/n couldn’t help but ask, “Is Wanda Maximoff here today?”

The blonde shook her head with a small smile. “I’m sorry dear. She’s not going to be here today.” Y/n couldn’t hold back the frown that escaped. It was stupid to think that Wanda would come back the very next day, but she had hope.

And as much as Y/n wanted to ask when she’ll be back, she knew the blood center wouldn’t give out information like that. Regardless, Y/n was determined. She was going to see Wanda again.

It was a new month and a new day. Although Y/n was glad to help a good cause, her hope waned as each day passed with no Wanda. By now, everyone in the blood center knew Y/n by name. On the bright side, the other volunteers were not bad to talk to but none compared to her.

So as Y/n sat down once again, she scrolled on her phone, expecting much disappointment. Until the voice that captured her heart called her name. “Y/n?”

She looked up from her phone and saw that familiar smile that was ingrained in her head. “Wanda.” Y/n couldn’t hold her smile back as she finally saw the girl that she’s been begging to see.

“Looks like you’re here for you…18th donation? Look at you being a star citizen.” Y/n blushed knowing that those donations were mainly for something else. “I think by now you should know the drill. Are there any concerns you may have?”

Wanda looked back at Y/n, ready to disinfect her arm. “I-” Y/n’s brain short circuited at the feeling of Wanda’s hands on her arm. It was like everything that she wanted to say suddenly left her brain. But the feeling was just on the tip of her tongue.

“You know, they should give you a badge or something for donating so much. I didn’t even know that was possible. Didn’t you start donating like last month?” Again, not a single thought formulated in Y/n’s head when all she could focus on was how soft Wanda’s hands were. Because if Y/n was able to focus, she would be able to say that her donation was 17 days, 13 hours, and 5 minutes ago. But who was counting?

Wanda looked back at Y/n’s chart to confirm her suspicions. “Are you still scared of needles though?” And that’s when Y/n finally got back into the real world. For all the times she’s been back, she’s had to look away from the needle while using a nearby pillow to control her nerves.

“I think I might need your magic again.” Y/n blushed at the request but felt proud at the smug look that came from Wanda. “I might have to start charging you for the show.”

With sudden blind confidence, Y/n asked, “Let me take you out on a date in return.” Wanda almost missed the vein at Y/n’s sudden question. She had an inkling that the girl liked her but never expected her to actually pursue her thoughts.

“You didn’t even need it.” Y/n looked down and saw that Wanda had poked her without realizing it.

“Does that mean you won’t go?” Wanda looked at the time on the clock and smiled at Y/n.

“It actually means you have three hours till my shift is up.” Wanda patted Y/n’s arm, reminding her to squeeze the ball in her hand. “So pick me up then. How should I dress?”

“Something casual. I hadn’t really planned out what I was going to do after you said yes.” Wanda blushed at the idea of Y/n practicing this moment.

“How about this? You and I walk around New York. I don’t think the guys have given you much of a good tour. So I’ll tell you all about the new New York and you tell me about the old New York.”

“You have a deal.”

Wanda and Y/n were in the back seat of an uber. The small date was something Y/n never wanted to end but the lack of energy made it hard to keep up. So when Y/n asked if it could be an early night, she was relieved that Wanda wasn’t mad at her.

Right now, the uber was at a stoplight and the two hardly spoke as their shoulders touched.

“Can I hold your hand?” Y/n whispered as she lightly placed her hand above Wanda’s. The small smile was hard to miss on Wanda’s face. She could feel Y/n’s internal battle to ask her that. She leaned into Y/n’s ear and whispered, “You don’t even have to ask,” and pressed a small kiss on Y/n’s cheek as they interlaced hands.

A small blushed and a wide grin appeared on Y/n’s face. “I hope you had fun today.” Looking away, Y/n yawned into her hand.. “You tired dekta?”

Looking back at her, Y/n tilted her head in confusion. “Dekta? What does that mean?” Wanda blushed more. She hadn’t meant to call Y/n that, but it left her lips so easily. Like it was second nature.

“I’ll tell you later,” Wanda placed her left hand on Y/n’s bicep and gave it a small squeeze, “Aren’t you supposed to be a super soldier? It's barely past 10 pm and you’re already tired.” Y/n scratched the back of her neck, slightly embarrassed at how tired she was. But all Wanda could focus on was the feeling of Y/n’s muscles as she gave one more squeeze.

Y/n yawned again, unable to fight the sleep that took over her body. “It’s what happens when you donate blood every day to try and see a pretty girl.” They hadn’t even kissed but Wanda could’ve sworn she was in love. The dopey smile on Y/n’s face would make any girl’s heart melt. The red head mentally thanked that it was her that Y/n was looking at and nobody else.

“You did that for me?” Y/n could think of many things she would do for Wanda, rescue a billion people, punch a hole in the moon, even kidnap someone. Regardless of how unrealistic it was, Wanda Maximoff was worth changing the tides on Earth. So how could someone so wonderful could ever question that someone would do something for her attention?

“I wanted to see you again.” Y/n bit her inner cheek, trying her best to stay calm but all she could think about was how soft Wanda’s lips looked.

The red head hadn’t meant to hear that thought, but she was glad she did. She bit her lip wishing that Y/n would just kiss her already. But something about the way they stared into each other's eyes was already enough for her to feel alive. And for someone so sober, her body grew drunk at the touch of Y/n.

“So you donated blood to see me?” It was still all unbelievable to Wanda but Y/n would tell her a million times until she believed it.

Their eyes interlocked causing Wanda’s breathing to hitch. She swore she could look into those brown eyes forever. “18 pints and counting.” Y/n couldn’t hold back her grin as Wanda looked away, unable to hold back her wide smile.

Y/n gave a gentle squeeze in their interlaced hands as Wanda turned back to face Y/n. “You’re gonna get yourself sick if you keep donating.” Wanting to focus on something else, Y/n caressed Wanda’s cheek as she tucked a loose strand back.

Not wanting her touch to go away, Wanda placed her hand above Y/n’s. So many thoughts ran through both of their heads. Wanda could feel the weight inside Y/n’s mind but didn’t dare to peak.

“Tell me what you’re thinking…”

“...I think you’re really pretty,” Y/n admitted in secret.

“What else?” Y/n rubbed her thumb gently across Wanda’s cheek.

“I think I want to take you out on a second date.”

“Oh yeah?”

“And I…I think I want to kiss you.” Wanda swallowed all the nerves in her chest.

“...I’d really like that…” And as brown eyes looked at greens eyes one more time, Y/n slowly leaned in and kissed Wanda. There was no rush with each kiss, something Wanda never experienced before. All she could remember was the sloppy kisses and fast make outs. But something about kissing Y/n slowly drove heart mad because how dare she live this long without being kissed like this.

And as they kissed, their hands never broke apart, instead, they gave gentle squeezes with every kiss. And when slowly pulled apart, Wanda knew then she was love sick.

Bonus

“Let me get this straight,” Bucky rubbed his forehead, feeling the headache coming forth, “Y/n passed out from kissing you?”

“Well, the kissing didn’t help but she also donated 18 pints of blood in the last three weeks.” Wanda looked at Y/n’s sleeping figure. Her head rested comfortably on Wanda’s lap.

Bucky sighed. “Okay, I’ll meet you at her place.”

Taglist: @halobaby @arelyitsherec8 @blackxwidowsxwife @cristin-rjd @madamevirgo @trikruismybitch @paradiselost916 @mmmmokdok @morbid-gaymer @dailyavengering @itsnottilly @helloalycia @randomshyperson @tomy5girls @daenerys713 @ensorcellme @lezzzbehonesthere @imagine-reblog

@sighsam @olsensnpm @tquick99 @feolok @emilyprentisslittlewhore @mvddison99 @iamapotato @yuhloversxx @mjaudrey @upsidedowndanvers @somewhatgreatexpectations @wandavixen @magicallymaximoff @username23345 @coollemonsaresour @littlewinchester15 @aimezvousbrahms @afuckingshituniverse @am-just-a-cosmic-joke-to-me

@ohmygooddamnbisexualmood @diaryoflife @s7uts @newyork1432 @the-anxious-stargazer @hello-mtf @marvelousbelladonna @ima-gi–na-tion @obsessed-with-wandamaximoff @the-camilucha

@itsnottilly @171611 @kaitlynroseb @daisybri7 @drpepperobsessed @bemyvitamin @musicinourlips @marvelousbelladonna @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xastrydx @chasethemoon @naixia00 @lostandsearching @stupidsapphicsstuff @haechanana @the-camilucha @severepeanutartisanhands @owloftheshadows @somewhatgreatexpectations @ywuen @mixed-fandom-mess @loomontoia @ilovemarvelwomen @coxmicbabygirl @cyanide-mustard @mrs-avenger3000 @prentisshoe @andrea-stark @simpforwandanat @abimess @randomshyperson @yourtaletotell @magically-queer-stuff

@imapotatao @iliketozoneout @maximoffbrossupremacy@olsensnpm @psychadelichues @whitelotus00 @taliiiaasteria @tynix @autorasexy @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @hiiraya

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #fluff #Blood Drive #mionemymind #wanda maximoff fluff

764 notes · View notes

crestfallenyh · 3 months

Text

new light ; jyh

cw: yunho x reader. reader making things hard for no reason, so this is quite long. sweet boyfriend yunho. a bit of a corruption kink. unprotected sex. backshot lol. breath play, hair pulling, biting and overall roughness mixed with a natural sweetheart yunho. not proofread, i'm testing the waters to start posting again.

"you should still talk to him, you know"

seonghwa's slightly muffled voice made its way to you as you groaned in disagreement with your face buried on his pillow. he gave you a sympathetic look before laying on the bed next to you, propping himself up on his elbows and seemingly preparing to repeat the same speech about trust and communication he'd already given you twice in the past hour. before he could start, you rolled on your back and laid there, staring at the ceiling where the silver lightning from his bedside lamp drew funny shapes.

"i know i should, i'm just not sure if i'm ready to face his rejection yet"

you ignored the stern look he shot at you, he knew better than anyone how dramatic you could get when it came to your relationship. your fears were not unfounded, though. you had been thinking over and over for the past couple of weeks about the topic and yet you couldn't bring yourself to speak to yunho about your worries, and as much as you shouldn't do it, you couldn't help but convince yourself time and time again that it wasn't worth bringing it up. you wondered why, because your boyfriend hadn't been anything but supportive throughout the couple months you had been together. perhaps that was the problem. deep down you knew he wasn't going to judge you, much less laugh at you, as understanding as he was. it was just that the relationship was still quite new, feelings yet so fresh that despite his bright personality, he was often rather shy around you. the thought of him looking at you with flustered cheeks and doubt on his gaze, not from nervousness and anticipation but because of embarrassment, held you back from getting too sincere with him.

"i know he's gonna listen and maybe even try if i ask, but i don't want him to do anything he's not comfortable with," you sighed and put a hand over your eyes, the lights suddenly too bright.

"you wouldn't, though," seonghwa tried to reason, "yunho is not the type to not tell when he doesn't like something. also, i have a feeling he might be into that even if he doesn't know yet"

and with that you were left thinking. in more than one occasion you tried to play different scenarios in your head on how he could respond. your soft and sweet giant... how would he react if you ever told him about the dark fantasies running through your mind everytime you saw him, simply existing? what would he say if he knew how badly you wanted him to share the same passion for roughness you had, the same hunger?

up until that moment your sex life had been good, for the most part. he was always respectful and mindful of his strength whenever he held you, kissing you with light pressure and fucking you equally as soft. you liked it, but you wanted more. you needed more. you needed his weight on top of you, suffocating and hot. you needed his hands everywhere, those long fingers of his biting into your skin. he was always nice to everyone, it was no surprise he would be gentle in bed too, but you didn't want him to be nice to you. not in that instance.

maybe it was worth a shot. maybe if you told him what you wanted, he would find a new side to himself too. your hope it was, at least. that's why, by the time you met with him at your place a couple of days after your conversation with seonghwa, you were so nervous it was impossible for you to look him in the eye because the possibility of it going wrong scared you as much as the possibility of it going great. he noticed, of course. after all, he was always perceptive of any minimal expression you made and although he tried not to worry, his mind wandered off to sad places whenever he tried to touch you, hug you or kiss you and a slight hint of a wince appeared on your face. were you about to break up with him or something? his mind was restless, and the atmosphere was somewhat tense, with short whispered answers and stolen glances. you hadn't felt that awkwardness in forever. instead of dissipating the awkward feeling, the anxiousness of the situation going in the wrong direction already made you grow even more coy, and you reprimanded yourself. pull it together, you thought.

ten minutes into the movie you were watching and he sighed, pausing it and looking at you with a question in his eyes. impressive, you thought. he held quite well, but it was now your turn to hold your breath. you weren't ready, but you knew you had to let it out. one big sigh of yours after and you tried to ignore the slight shake in yunho's hands as he repositioned on the couch. him being as nervous as you somewhat calmed you, though you didn't want him to get the wrong idea.

"it's nothing bad, i promise," you caressed the back of his wrist with your index finger, rummaging through your brain to find the right words, "it's just... you know, i've enjoyed our relationship quite well so far..."

yunho's eyes were fixated on your expression as you spoke for several minutes about how much you liked spending time with him and how he was the best boyfriend anyone could ask for, so intense that you couldn't help but avoiding his gaze. you said not to worry but your body was sending contrasting signals, eyes looking everywhere but him and twitching hands. he was slowly spiraling, waiting for the 'but' within your ramble. he couldn't even feign nonchalance.

"... i've never quite liked being with someone like i do with you, but..." yunho gulped, "... you know, i just.."

"what is it, love? are you not comfortable with something i did? tell me what is it and i'll fix it"

you shook your head slowly, finally making eye contact, "i don't think it's something you did, yunho. it's more like something i want but i fear i might make this awkward"

"you know when we have, you know, sex?," yunho nodded, more confused than before, "well, there's a lot of things i wanna try, and don't get me wrong, i like what we do now but i just... i don't know if you would want to do most of those things, and that's why i don't want to make you uncomfortable"

you cringed on your seat, suddenly hyper aware of the fact you were finally saying it and wondering if you should backtrack.

yunho's eyebrows furrowed.

"try me, y/n. do you want me to tie you up in the air or something?," he was so very obviously trying to joke but seeing how you made yourself small against the couch, he coughed, "wait, seriously?"

"would that make you uncomfortable?"

he stopped for moment to think about it, and finally shook his head no. he'd never tried in the past and he'd actually never thought of something like that to do with you, so he was surprised at his own answer. he considered himself a pretty standard guy when it came to intimacy, vanilla, if you will. he was too aware of the size of his body, so he never entertained the idea even though he knew people did lots of stuff out there. the more he thought now, the more he found himself interested on how the whole thing would play out. he was only worried about the safety of it all, and as such he explained to you. you listened, still a bit shaken up, relishing on how he was seemingly taking it serious even when barely anything had been discussed and you yourself had never thought of trying bondage, not too much at least.

"but seriously, if you wanted us to try something different, you should've told me before doll," he noticed how his words could come up as nagging, so he explained further, "i believe you when you say you've enjoyed it so far, but i'm always open to listen and i would want you to love it, instead of liking it"

and so, a long discussion ensued. at first it took a lot of courage from you to stop downplaying your actual desires and took a lot from yunho to stop blushing with each word you said. he never thought of you as the type to want to be choked and marked up, if he was honest. he wasn't scandalized per se, but the more you explained, the more he started feeling heat all over his body. he knew he was considerably taller than most and in the back of his head he knew people found that attractive, but knowing now how much you wanted him to do all those things to you and take full advantage of his strength made him lightheaded. he really appreciated how, although you couldn't seem to stop talking once you finally turned off the shyness switch, you still listened to everything he had to say to make sure he was also comfortable and just how far he was willing to go.

once the conversation died down you let the silence sink between you two, processing everything you talked about with your gaze lost in the distant glow of the long forgotten movie. after a while his voice and his hand on your thigh brought you back.

"you were scaring me back there, you know," yunho chuckled, soft eyes and a fond smirk drawn on his handsome face, "i thought you wanted to break up and turns out you just want me to rag doll you around"

the simplicity of his tone made you frown.

"well, now that you say it like that..."

he knew you were joking, and from one moment to the next you found yourself swiftly placed on his lap, curling his soft black hair around your fingers and kissing him, softly at first. his embrace around your hips was tender but firm and you trembled a bit, relief replacing the anxiety from before. seonghwa was right, after all, though you would never admit that to his face. you quickly forgot about your friend when you adjusted yourself on top of yunho and felt his hardness against your body. his eyes met yours and your breath hitched. how come the look in his eyes was so dark now?

"we can wait before trying changing things, you know," your soft whisper fell against his plumped lips, "think about it till you're comfortable"

yunho kissed you again, this time more fierce before tightening his grip on you and starting a trail of kisses down your cheek, jaw and neck.

"do you want to do it now, though?," shivers ran down your spine as his now slightly hoarse voice ringed in your ears, "because i do"

you nodded almost too desperately as those electric eyes of his bored into yours and that was all the confirmation you both needed. suddenly your back was against the couch and he held up a hand to caress your face, moving the scattered hair aside while he positioned himself on top of you. as a reflex your legs wrapped around his lean figure and soon enough you were nothing but a bunch of short breaths and flushed pink cheeks, his hands went up and down your sides and a gasp left your mouth when he gripped your thighs with his ringed fingers. amongst the passion there still existed some gentleness and you whimpered, pulling him against you with need. everything was suddenly too hot. his touch, his breath, his forehead against yours after a particularly long kiss.

yunho unfastened the buttons on your shirt and removed it as well as your shorts, leaving you almost completely exposed under his exploring hands. he glanced at you to check how you were doing and you so badly wanted to wipe off the smugness from the curve of his lips, but before you could say anything, two of his fingers pushed your underwear aside and made contact with your wetness. your head fell back with every movement of his, soon enough his lips were on your neck and for a moment you forgot how to breathe. nothing on your head but him, everything was filled with the feeling of the cold metal of his rings against your folds and the sharp occasional pain from his biting on your neck that made you sink your nails on his broad shoulders.

it was intoxicating having him like this, his instincts so good at that moment that he knew where to touch you so as to pull the sweetest sounds from your mouth. he just knew your body so well. you wanted to return the favor, make him feel as good as he was making you feel but as soon as you lingered around the button of his jeans he used his free hand to grab your wrist and hold it above your head. you whined and his response was a chuckle. it was more fun than he expected, and he was honestly enjoying himself, drinking in the expression on your pretty face and the cloudiness on your hazy eyes.

"no, doll. today you'll just take what i give you, yeah?"

he waited for confirmation and once he got it, he flipped you around, pressing his torso against your back and his clothed pelvis against yours. the roughness of his jeans against your bare thighs made you shiver, griping the couch tightly as he got a hold of your hips with his right hand to stop you from pushing back to feel him. his other hand was busy with his zipper and afterwards with prepping you. he slowly pushed two fingers inside of you and you gasped at suddenly feeling stuffed. yunho whispered reassuring words in your ear and after a while he took his fingers out, replacing them with his cock. inch by inch, you shut your eyes closed until he bottomed out and the air escaped his lips in a quick exhale.

you'd never tried it like this before and he could tell you were struggling a bit to take him, which was unusual. he attempted pulling out to let you adjust better but your muffled "no, don't" stopped him. he raised his already furrowed eyebrows, it was hard to concentrate with your warmth around but he paid attention to your breathing, waiting for it to be more steady before intertwining his fingers with yours from behind for support and pushing down with each thrust.

your moans became sharper and sharper and he almost couldn't resist the urge to go harder and faster, afraid he might hurt you. yunho loved the outline of your body and how you jolted every time he hit the right spot. he laid down on top of you, letting his weight fall almost entirely on you and enjoying the way your whimpering was almost involuntary at that point.

after a moment he grabbed a handful of hair to turn your head a bit, just enough for him to be able to kiss your temple. as if that wasn't enough, his other hand sneaked around your body to get a hold of your throat. he didn't put much pressure, but the feeling of his large hand restraining your air intake little by little and the feeling of his large body trapping yours had you shaking with a silent scream around his cock. as you rode your high, yunho slowed down the speed but not the force of his thrusts and so you were left there, overstimulated in the best way as he was chasing his own high. he was almost there, and the ringing in your ears could only be interrupted by the sound of his grunts and moans.

yunho pulled put and let go of your neck to finish himself off, looking at your exhausted figure and blissed out expression was enough to have him cum all over your back with a choked out groan. you smiled at him, taking in the image of him with his dark hair sticking slightly to his forehead. it shouldn't be as hot as it was, but seeing him practically fully dressed on top of your naked body made you feel fuzzy on the inside. your boyfriend smiled back at you and ran to the bathroom for something to clean you up. you would have to hop in the shower at some point for sure, but for now, after he finished wiping his cum off, the only thing you both wanted and had energy to do was to lay down.

he quickly slid one of his shirts on your body so you weren't cold and held you close, both still too agitated to give in to your heavy eyelids.

after a while of him caressing your back and you drawing shapes with your finger on his arm, you heard his voice again.

"you know, i think i liked that a lot," you nodded in agreement, both you and him knew that figuring out what each other liked the best was going to be a journey, but you were grateful for his willingness to try and he loved that you finally decided to confide in him, "what do you say?"

"depends," you joked with a sleepy voice and fluttering eyelashes, admittedly a bit flirty for his inquisitive gaze, "will you spank me next time?"

#ateez smut #yunho scenarios #yunho smut #ateez scenarios

484 notes · View notes

alwaysshallow · 10 months

Note

hey babes, for the drabbles in the inbox post all I can think of is price with a breeding kink so upset he's "too old to give you a baby" only for him to end up with a wife pregnant with their 2nd baby

Fifth time, sixteenth test, and he's fuming. He doesn't even look at you, and you feel bad, when he's pacing back and forth around the house, deeply in his thoughts. Normally, you'd try to hug him, like the last times, but somehow, you can't do it now. There's something wrong with his mind, and you just can sense that, even if he's not telling you anything; being with him prepared you enough for moments like these. He's a captain, the head of the team, usually stressing about things himself.

"John, could you finally talk to me?" you ask after another ten minutes, when enough is enough; he suddenly turns around in your direction, like he finally acknowledges that you're here. Apologetic look on his face makes your heart break even more.

"'m sorry, missus." He's quick to sit next to you on the couch, kissing your hand a few times, with hope you're gonna forgive him for ignoring you.

It's what he usually does, and it always breaks your facade, but now you're not mad. Rather, confused, but you don't talk about it with him, when he smiles into your lips and drapes a blanket over you. You two just cuddle on the couch, watching some ridiculously old documentary about war, when he decides to pop the question.

"Why aren't you with someone younger?"

To say you are shocked, would be an understatement; completely bamboozled, you look at Price, your eyebrow cocked. "The fuck are you on?"

He sighs, as he looks down at you; it feels like he doesn't want to fight, but he genuinely asks, which makes you feel weird even more. "Simple question."

You prop yourself up a little, to take a better look at your husband. "Because I love you, and that's settled?"

"Someone younger would give you a baby," he mutters under his breath, as his eyes are on the TV again. John's implication shoots right through you, like a bullet, sharp and hurtful, but not that much for you, as for him. You're quick to sit on his lap fully, to bring his attention to you.

"It's definitely not your fault, John. It might be as well something with me, you know?" you frown, your fingers tracing his bearded jawline, as he still doesn't look at you.

"I waited too long, and now there's the consequences of it." His tone is hard, like he didn't hear your explanation before, and he continues to blame himself for it. Your heart sinks. "'m failin' you, love. If I'd meet you earlier, it would be different. Or if you'd be with someone else, maybe he would give you kids."

"None of that," you say, grabbing his face, to make him look at you. He opens his mouth to say something, but you're quick to put a finger on his lips to shush him; he already told you enough to make you want to do a monologue on him. "We're gonna have kids, even if it will take years, do you hear me, John Price?"

"Affirmative," he replies, kissing you a few times. On lips, cheeks and nose – you learned that doing it this way soothes him. Makes him less nervous than he already is. "I wouldn't blame you, if you'd want to—"

You don't even try to talk to him this time; you just kiss him, interrupting his intrusive thoughts with hope that he'll focus on something else. It's not a surprise when he takes the bait, and he's quick to pick you up in his arms, while you just giggle, knowing that he takes you to bedroom.

Three years later, he's off at deployment, when you learn that you're pregnant again, with your second child. 9 weeks, your gynecologist says, when you look at the scan, thinking how happy you are right now. Tears pricks in the corners of your eyes when you're in your car, taking deep breaths before you'll call your husband.

A lot of thoughts are going inside your head; should you tell him now? He's on the mission, probably doing important things, maybe he doesn't want to be interrupted? Yet, it is an important thing, something that he waited to hear for the longest time, having doubts if he's ever gonna be a father— and now, he's about to be a father for the second time.

"Love, are you okay?"

You blink twice, when you hear him through you phone; you don't even know when you called. "Yeah, baby. I'm okay, why?"

"Been askin' you how's your day, and you tell me nothin'. Got me worried for a second," he laughs, and for some reason, his laugh completely calms you. Before, you were a little scared to even call him, interrupt whatever he was doing.

Now? Now, you're more than excited to tell him the news, since you have time, and your firstborn is with his grandma.

"I'm okay. I promise," you reply warmly, smiling to yourself, as you take a peek at your stomach. You don't have a bump yet, but you smile nonetheless at the thought that, if everything will go well, in following months you're gonna have a bump. "Are you busy?"

"Just got back to base. Will be there for a while," he hums. "What is it, missus?"

"You should sit."

"…everything's alright, yes?"

"Yes, but you should sit. And, turn the camera on, please?"

He doesn't even question your request; in a minute, you see his face – happy and confused in the same time, while you grin the widest you possibly can. You felt joy this big back when you were just a kid, getting your Christmas gift.

And, now you're the one who delievers the gift.

"You're in the car? Thought you're gonna be home," he speaks up, and you have to hold back a laugh.

"I had to see a doctor, and—"

"—you had to see a doctor? You told me you're okay, love. Is it our little man? Baby, I'm—"

"—I'm pregnant, John." Words fall from your mouth.

"What?"

"I'm pregnant," you laugh, as you show him the ultrasound on camera, the closest you can. "Nine weeks. I'm back from my gyn, that's the doctor I needed to see."

"You're not pulling my leg, are you, love?" he asks, and when you shake your head with excitement, he laughs. He laughs so happily, and he even stands up for a few moments before sitting again. "A week, and 'm gonna be back. Is it okay?"

"A week?" you raise your eyebrow. "You're supposed to be another two weeks on the mission, and—"

"—I'd like to spend it with my wife, and my two babies, alright? A week won't harm anyone," he whispers lovingly, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "We have to talk about so many things."

And the fact you had to try so many times for the first baby, is just a faded memory.

#john price #john price fluff #john price x reader #captain john price x you #cod x reader #exilesanswers #captain john price x reader #x reader #captain john price #cod mw2 #john price imagine #cod imagines

2K notes · View notes

wttcsms · 1 year

Text

most noble ; kento nanami.

pairing kento nanami x f!reader word count 3.6k synopsis your beloved knight nobly defends your honor by participating in a tourney to duel the man who insults you. he does not realize that the reward for his victory is your hand in marriage. content contains medieval royal au, knight!nanami & princess!reader, age gap (reader is 22/nanami is 29), longing!!! it's about the pining!!!, requited unrequited love, romantic tension, nanami being hopelessly in love but feeling undeserving :( author's notes omg can y'all just get ur acts together n marry each other holy shit (make me make a pt. 2, plssss)

Kento Nanami knows that he’s made a mistake, perhaps one so major that not even taking another professional role within the castle will be able to cover it up. Then again, it’s not like him leaving his post the first time around has resulted in any change. Maybe him leaving only to return back to your side once more is precisely the reason why he’s making so many mistakes.

For example, earlier this week, his fingers brushed against yours while handing you your tiara. Or, just before that, he found himself remaining only two steps behind you rather than the traditional three. And maybe he’s just paranoid, afraid that he’s being obvious and overly obnoxious in his displays of affection for you, but he did not earn the title of Head Knight of the Royal Guard for no reason. The king — your father — would not have bestowed such a prestigious title to a man who is not always proceeding with constant caution.

To any visitor of the court, Sir Nanami is just another highly skilled knight, dedicated to protecting the princess. To Nanami, he is a lovesick fool trailing after you, failing to mask his true affections.

No one sees through him, except for the one person who he so wishes were blind to his feelings.

Easily excitable and sweetly endearing, you are the heiress to the throne and future ruler to citizens who adore you. It’s hard not to fall for your charm or the kindness that you bestow upon anyone who comes across your path. You’re considered to be the sun that shines over the kingdom, and Nanami knows of no star that shines brighter than you.

But behind your youthful exuberance and seemingly carefree attitude is a highly perceptive young lady of the court. With your cheery smiles and laughter that seems to flow so easily and rings through the halls of the castle, it is easy to forget that one day, you will be queen, and that you have been raised your whole life to fulfill your royal duty.

It is easy to remember this fact when you’re sitting atop your throne, staring down at him as he kneels.

“You regret it,” you say, absentmindedly tracing the intricate designs carved onto the handles of your seat. You still haven’t learned how to stop moving your hands every time you’re nervous. It’s your only tell; for as well as you can read Nanami, he can read you even better. Your anxiety only causes him to tighten his jaw, his eyes focused on the lower half of your face because this is all his role allows him to do. He should not dare to look Her Royal Highness in the eyes; not at his lowly level in comparison to you.

You frown at his silence, knowing that he’s doing it to raise the barrier between you two. Four years ago, he hadn’t tried to shut you out so firmly, and every day since then, you have spent all your free time wondering why he wants nothing to do with you.

The it you’re referring to could be many different things. “It” could possibly be him leaving his station as your personal knight in order to become one of the king’s advisors. “It” could also be referring to him returning to be your knight. Or maybe you’re talking about the kiss the two of you shared a fortnight before he decided to stop being your royal guard. The kiss that lingers on his lips, even to this day. He doesn’t even have to think hard enough to remember the wonderful feeling of your soft lips pressed against his own, or that saccharine taste of yours that is yours alone; no fruit, no candy, nothing has ever been able to mimic your sweetness. The kiss that never should have been. The kiss, the kiss, the kiss.

Maybe “it” is none of that, or maybe it’s all of the above. He knows you, and you’re not going to clarify because you believe that Nanami is a mindreader, and for the most part, he is. He knows what gowns you favor, and when you’re sleepy during court meetings, and he knows what order you’re going to eat the food on your plate. He knows where you go when you want to be alone (to the horse stables, to be with your beloved mare), and what your favorite tiara looks like, and that you snort when you laugh (but only ever in the presence of those you are truly comfortable with; only ever in the presence of him).

He does not, however, know about his place in your heart.

You wonder if he’s forcing himself to be unaware of your feelings for him. Sometimes, in the corner of your eyes and in your shadow that he follows, you catch him staring at you longingly, hopefully. With a type of reverence that differs from the one grateful citizens show you. This one feels… intimate. A look meant to be shared only with lovers.

Lovers.

You had toyed with the idea four years ago, when you were eighteen and bright-eyed and much too hopeful for your own good. You craved romance and passion, and whichever suitor you came across, you always found them to be lacking, none of them comparing to Sir Nanami. And you knew, with girlish glee, that it is Nanami that you want. And then came that fateful afternoon in the gardens where you kissed him, and you swore that flowers started blooming on the bushes as a result. The birds were singing, and the sun was shining much brighter than ever, and you felt weightless. As if the inevitability of having to rule a kingdom was no longer a point of stress, and the burdens of your royal duty slipped from your shoulders and melted into the dewy grass beneath you. All that existed, for that brief second of bliss, was you and Nanami.

And then, two weeks later, he resigned and decided to work for your father.

His return had come as a surprise to you. During the years he stopped being your knight, you saw him only once a week, if the fates decided to bless you. For the most part, you’ve grown accustomed to only seeing his broad back or a flash of blond hair passing you by in the corridor. You wonder if he knows that he’s your first kiss — your only kiss. Surely he must. He’s spent a good portion of his life ensuring that your virtue was to never be tainted.

“I do not know what you speak of, My Lady.” He says. He speaks so little to you now that you savor the sound of his deep baritone, the smoothness of how words seem to glide off his tongue. Nanami takes something so mundane as talking and turns it into an art.

“You regret the duel.”

And here lies the grand mistake that Nanami cannot figure out how to fix. He believes that being cold to you will perhaps dissuade anyone from assuming how closely he holds you to his heart (his act of emotional indifference towards you is so convincing, even you sometimes believe it), but he’s only human. He is a slave to his emotions — the utterly irrational ones, the ones that make him act a fool — as all men are.

Nanami hadn’t intended on participating in the tourney. He’s nearing twenty-nine, after all. He’s reached the highest status any knight could possibly aspire to, and he no longer is a squire from a commoner family with something to prove. Tourneys are a thing of the past, a memory from his boyhood.

But there are visitors from all sorts of lands who came down for this royal celebration. A lowly lord from a kingdom ruled by Mahito is precisely the type of scum that does a disservice to all men. Crass, vulgar, and entirely immature, Lord Shigemo has a dastardly reputation for never keeping his disgusting comments or filthy hands to himself. And while it was not his touch that threatened your very virtue, it was the perverted proclamations he kept declaring that had Nanami seeing red.

“She’s a bit old for my liking, but I still bet her maidenhood is ripe enough for the taking. I’d love to see her bleed all over my cock.” Lord Shigemo snickers as he loudly announces this, his beady eyes staring right at you. He’s smart enough to not say your name, lest his head end up on a stake outside your father’s castle, but he’s dumb enough to not heed the warnings he’s been told.

The princess is protected by the bravest of all knights, and the most honorable of all gentlemen.

For that comment alone, Nanami is ready to unsheathe his sword and behead Shigemo, but he knows he cannot. There has been no direct threat to you, and Nanami has just enough restraint to remember that his anger cannot get the best of him. He is not to harm visitors to the kingdom, no matter how deserving of punishment they are, because maintaining peace between the lands is of the utmost importance.

But the way your body stiffens and the almost sickly pallor of your face that occur as a result of Lord Shigemo’s verbal transgression is enough to have Nanami pledge his participation in the dueling tourney. He signs his name in the same competition bracket as Shigemo’s, and you’re pleasantly surprised when Nanami kneels down, asking for your favor and a blessing as he goes to represent your family.

“And what has made you so keen on dueling now, hmm? Why, King Gojo has spent the better half of today trying to goad you into jousting with his knight.” You’re teasing him, eyes sparkling, your gibe gentle and without malicious intent.

You’re not trying to convince Nanami to not partake in the tournament. In fact, you take secret pleasure in watching his swordsmanship, even going out of your way to sneak into the training grounds and watch as he practices moves you’re certain he’s already perfected. For a man with so much muscle mass, he moves swiftly and with a sharp, quick precision that does not befit his firm build.

“It is to defend my lady’s honor.” He curses himself for being so forthright with his intentions. He could have told you that it was to honor your family, and it would not have been a lie, but it wouldn’t have been said with the same strong conviction he speaks with now. It is not the king or any of your cousins that he is fighting for; it is just you, only you.

Removing the brooch from your gown, you attach it to the cloth of his shirt that is soon to be covered by armor. It’s a dark blue gem, matching the color your house favors.

“My most noble of all protectors. You have my favor, then, and all my prayers.” As you always do is the real ending to your sentence, but you fear that if you reveal too much, then Nanami will not be able to focus and give this tourney his all. You wonder if you should reveal the prize for winning, but decide against it at the last minute when he dares to look at you, a glimmer of the same affection from four years ago shining in his dark eyes. It’s a similar look to the one he gave you before your lips met his.

The urge to kiss him again rises, your heart thumping against your chest, but all you allow yourself to do is smile at him.

The tourney itself is a quick event. Usually, it lasts far longer than the hour it takes up, and the gambling a tense, exciting affair. With Nanami entering at the last minute, most gamblers changed their bets to go all in on him winning, and for a good reason. He makes quick work of every opponent unfortunate enough to be paired with him, and the only time Nanami truly takes his sweet time is when he comes face to face with an anxious Lord Shigemo.

Even toying with him doesn’t give Nanami much pleasure. Shigemo is a weak opponent, a poorly trained fighter, and a pitiful excuse of a man. Tired of his time being wasted, Nanami has the man shaking underneath the sharp point of his sword within seconds after deciding he is done playing these games. Even after being declared the winner of the whole tourney, an outcome he isn’t surprised at, he doesn’t feel any satisfaction. Flowers and handkerchiefs are being thrown at him as a show of respect and celebration, but only when he looks up into the crowd, his eyes focusing on your smiling visage, does he feel an ounce of pure happiness.

Before he can climb the steps leading to the showbox that houses all the prominent royal families, one of the tourney competitors stops to congratulate Nanami.

“Lucky bastard.” It’s Naoya Zenin, Crown Prince of the neighboring kingdom. Nanami is glad he was not competing in the same bracket as the prince; not because of a difference in skill, but because wounding a Zenin’s pride was considered treason to them.

“It’s just flowers.” Nanami says. He doesn’t understand what Naoya’s fascination with them are, but perhaps it’s the glory of being a victor that he’s envious of.

“Don’t be a fool.” Naoya scoffs. “We all know the real prize that every damn man was trying to claim.”

Nanami is still confused. Of course, Naoya talks incessantly and most of the time, Nanami does not care what the Zenin heir has to say, but he did notice that there were far more competitors signing up for the tourney than previous years. Is there a monetary reward no one told him about?

“So, how much for you to forfeit?” Naoya asks, completely unaware of Nanami's ignorance.

“Pardon?”

He rolls his eyes, as if Nanami is some type of undomesticated animal, untrained to following commands. Nanami wishes he had been placed in the same bracket as Naoya now, treason charges be damned.

“Never mind, then. I’m sure the princess herself will just make an announcement rescinding the reward.” Naoya smirks at the thought of that, and Nanami struggles to fight the urge to demand the prince stop being so cryptic and to just explain what the hell he’s rambling on about. Rescind what reward?

A familiar head of pink hair pops up by his side, and Nanami immediately recognizes his young student. Eager Yuuji Itadori is smiling widely, happy for his teacher, and for once, Nanami is grateful that young Itadori does not know how to beat around the bush.

“Wow, congratulations, Sir Nanami! I had no idea that you wanted to marry Princess [Name]! Will you still be able to train me as Prince Consort?”

Nanami’s blood runs cold. Oblivious to his mentor’s sudden anguish, Yuuji continues on.

“Her Royal Highness was so kind to open the competition for her hand to any class. Of course, some people dared to criticize her and claim it’s because she’s becoming too old to be a maiden so she had to cast a wide net, but I know plenty of ladies who are unwed in their twenties. Will you still be her knight as her husband, or will that role have to go to someone else? Say, Sir Nanami, are you feeling alright?”

You’re beaming with pride at your beloved knight’s victory, yet nervousness at watching him interact with Prince Naoya started creeping in. You start to relax when the Zenin heir walks off, but your peace of mind shatters when you watch Sir Itadori engage in conversation with Nanami. You watch his facial expression tighten, his body tense up, and you realize that Nanami knows. He knows that he has a right to be betrothed to you, and it dawns on you, from his poor reaction, that this is not the outcome he wanted.

Which leaves the two of you here, alone in your throne room. Your father had found your idea of a tournament for your hand in marriage to be a silly one, but he had indulged you because you promised to be betrothed to someone at the end of it. By standards of the court, you’re much too old at twenty-two to remain unwed.

You’ve been plotting ways to get Nanami to participate, even daring to consider commanding him to do so, but never has being a victim to malicious comments ever been as beneficial as it has today. Nanami signed up for the tourney by his own will! His words ring in your ear, looping incessantly as you watch him fight.

It is to defend my lady’s honor.

He does not know the effect that title has on you, at least when it’s coming from him. My lady. His.

“If the idea of marrying me causes you so much ire, I will call off the betrothal at once and relieve you from your knightly duties, as well.” You do not want to do such a thing, but… You love Nanami. You love him so much that if it is your presence that pains him, you will take your leave now.

“No.”

The word comes from somewhere deep within himself, throaty and raw, like it hurts to say it, but it had to be spoken. The fates demand it.

“No?” You repeat, slowly, almost as if the word is something foreign to your tongue.

“Forgive me, my lady. I did not mean to speak out of turn.”

“You do not want to leave me?” You say it softly, but it’s just the two of you in this room. Every word exchanged seems to bounce around the walls, ricocheting, hitting the both of you in the face.

“Princess, it is not a matter of my wants.” Why must you torture him so? While he knows he can never marry you, there was a second of elation that excited his soul at the prospect of being your betrothed. He’s lived a rough life, his calloused palms and hardened heart proof of it. He hasn’t allowed himself to indulge in fantasies for quite some time, but you inspire just enough hope that it stabs him in his heart. Daring to dream of the impossible is a fool’s game.

“Ask me what I want.” You say it firmly. He obliges.

“What is it that you want, my lady?”

“You, Kento.”

No title, no boundaries. You have spoken his name, and that sting in his heart, the harmful side effect of his hope, grows. He dares to look up just a bit more, his eyes staring deep into your own.

All the walls Nanami painstakingly built to separate you two threaten to crumble right before his very eyes. His battlefield tact is of no use here. Had this been any other battle, he would charge forward with his head and sword raised high. Retreat is not an option for a soldier such as himself.

So why does he flirt with the idea of fleeing now?

“I am not deserving.”

“It hurts me when you say that.” And you say it with such a wounded look on your soft features that Nanami knows it must be true.

“I am not even a lord.” He’s fumbling for an excuse, anything to convince you that marrying him would be a mistake. He finds your stubbornness endearing, but he must get you to understand that you will regret marrying him.

“I have no need for a lord.” You retort, almost scoffing at the notion.

“I am seven years your senior.”

“Much better than the suitors decades older than I.”

“You must understand that I am not the gentlest of men. I am not built for care.” The tips of his ears turn red, a giveaway to his shame and embarrassment at the fact.

“I am not fragile.”

Stubborn. You are much too stubborn for your own good.

“I have tainted you.” He chokes out, staring you directly in the eyes. Showing his sins to the broad daylight filtering through the stained glass windows of this room. “I have stolen a kiss meant for your husband.”

“I kissed you! You have tainted nothing, you have robbed no one!” You exclaim, shocked at his misery.

“And now I have stolen your fate.” He continues. “You should not wish to marry a man like me, and you will only come to regret this impulsive decision of your youth if you force this betrothal.”

“Am I forcing you, Sir?” The title seems almost like a mockery, especially after you exchanged it for his given name just minutes prior.

There is nothing Nanami can say that will change your mind, and he realizes this. He realizes the pure selfishness of wanting you to not change your mind, but he is stubborn as well. The tension in this room wraps around the both of you, binding you two together. It’s a battle of wills, now.

Perhaps it always has been.

“You will regret this, my lady.” This is what he says. Inside, he begs of you, please do not regret me.

Satisfied at seemingly having your way, you settle into your throne, leaning back.

“So noble of you to want to save me from what you consider a dastardly fate, but I shall be the judge of that.”

And thus, the engagement period begins.

#nanami kento x reader #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x y/n #one shot #drabble #imagine #jjk x reader #royal au #omg me actually posting two fics in one week? it's the end of the world

1K notes · View notes

diwatopia · 5 months

Text

★ lovely ; james potter.

info: comfort, james potter x fem!reader, under 1k.

your head nuzzles into james' neck, inhaling greedily. "you smell good..." you sigh dreamily, nails raking the tiny curls at the base of his neck.

"yeah? i took a shower earlier... used that lavender soap you like," he hums while adjusting at the duvet. he huffs softly, unsure whether the cold touch of the wall that digs into his side annoys him more or the small amount of bedding left.

he tugs at the thick blanket as if attempting to get comfortable but you choose to not think much of it. in your mind, he fancies your cuddles, your affection, like he does every day.

after few seconds of finagling and a growing frown of frustration, "can you back up just a little bit? you've left me no space and this window sill is just stabbing my side like mad..." he groans.

you pout slightly, cheeks flushing a soft hue that closely resembles one of embarrassment. "sorry," you reply softly, body rolling over before scooting towards the opposite end of the bed.

"oh, love..." he makes an awfully sweet crooning sound, lips matching your bitty frown as you hug the bunched up duvet in your arms as if wired to cuddle something, to cuddle james.

james sighs, inching closer till your back meets his front. toned arms wrap around your midriff in attempt to apologize further.

"'m sorry, i didn't mean to be all over you." you speak understandingly, barely there and james feels his heart crack into trillions of pieces.

because here you are, being his undoubtedly sweet girl, showering him in your love that it makes his own affection cower next to yours.

"it's not your fault, baby. i dunno' why i spoke that way, 'm sorry." he speak weakly, as if barely noticing his original tone of voice.

you hum, "you seemed like you had a rough day... cuddles always seem to do the trick, but i guess today's different and that's okay." your voice is nothing but a squeak, soft and meek in a way that makes james believe that you'd rather not upset him again.

he's quick to prove otherwise as he showers your nape and cheek with the sweetest of kisses, soft lips against your supple skin.

"i'm not mad, my beautiful girl. you're so kind, always caring for others, thank you for the cuddles!" he lays it on thick, tone drenched in the finest of honey from the most richest of hives.

you giggle as his kisses grow tenfold, thicker fingers tickling at your waist. "jamie!" you laugh, swatting at his wrists with no real defense, more or less for show.

laughter and tickles turn to soft grazes and a love-sick gaze that makes you melt into the sheets like putty.

"why're you looking at me like that?" you whisper, thumb grazing his hairline absentmindedly.

"'cause you're lovely," he whispers back.

"you're lovely," you quip back with ease.

"nuh-uh, sweet girl. you're definitely loveliest." he coos.

★ diwa's notes: haiii this is my first post in ages and i'm super nervous bc ik my small amount of followers are def gone bc this isn't atwow TT this was just something sitting in my drafts so i hope ppl enjoy it :3 (and ellecdc if ur reading this which is a very low chance, ty for ur advice 🤍)

#★ amortentia ; james.#★ comfort.#james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter comfort #james potter masterlist #marauders x reader #marauders x y/n #marauders x you #marauders masterlist

769 notes · View notes

hotpinkstars · 5 months

Text

ESPRESSO - aventurine x reader

- "now he's thinkin' bout me, everynight, oh, is it that sweet? i guess so." or, how does aventurine do when he's in love?

- GUYS GUYS QUEEN SABRINA DROPPED A SINGLE i've been listening to this for days and i needed to write about it sooooooooooo yeah! anyways i'll get to writing probably a few requests tomorrow and wednesday (expect 4-5 posts between those days to make up for my absence) and yeahhhhhh enjoy!!

- aventurine might be a little ooc, mentions of his trauma (so penacony main quest spoilers), reader confesses at the end. wc 1067

Aventurine doesn’t know what to do when he first figures out that the feeling in his chest whenever he saw you was because he liked you. He probably tried to deny it, until Topaz caught him blushing like crazy after you walked away from the conversation you two had just finished. (Even then, she had to tell him, and then he spent a long time thinking that possibility through. She might have been right).

You plague his visions. Why does he always want something to do with you? Why does he always want to be in your space, but also never wants to see you again? You’ve noticed his weird behavior, considering you were one of the first people he’s ever genuinely called a friend, but didn’t really think too far into it.

Though, it didn’t stop you from paying more attention to it, that's for a fact. Sometimes you’d pay more attention to his body movements around you, the way he speaks, his etiquette, etc. You and Topaz communicate through it, and it’s a little bit different from his conversations with her.

You know he can be cocky. Like, very cocky. You know he’s not too afraid to talk back, to challenge someone to a gamble (spoiler he wins), and to be reckless. Though, you also know about his backstory. So you can kind of understand where he’s coming from.

He’s been pretty open with you about all of the things he’s endured. You know his real name, he’s described how his family has looked, and he’s described his years he endured slavery and what his home planet was like. You know about the Men in Black and the Katicans. And you know how traumatized he is.

Now, you’ve known him for a long, long time before this. You welcomed him into the IPC when Jade first announced his arrival, and you kind of showed him the ropes. He thought you seemed kind, so he stayed in contact with you.

You’ve watched him change, all of his progress through life, the hard times and the good times, and so much more. And that's what gets him the most, he thinks.

He never realized how much he trusted you until he realized he liked you. You know every single thing about this man, which was the reason why he was rather… nervous when he’d have to communicate with you face to face. He did a good job at keeping up his front he uses to talk to people, but you sensed a slight form of stress underneath all the layers he put up to look tough.

He lays awake, thinking about you. You’ve made part of his mind your home, and it’s the part he comes back to over and over again. You replay in his mind like a good song that he can’t get enough of- on, and on, and on, and on.

He does like to bring you little trinkets he finds pretty when he goes out in public to do some shopping. Considering how wealthy he is, he could probably afford to buy out the whole store, so if you even mention something you like to him, he’s on his way to find it for you. He likes to think of it as he’s buying your kindness, but you think something completely different. You enjoy his sudden gift giving, not just because of your gain, but because he thought about you enough to do such a thing. It always makes you slightly blush before laughing while opening the box presented in front of you. He thinks that's the most precious part about your time spent together; all of the opportunities he gets to listen to your gorgeous laughter and see your flawless smile. Topaz, pinch the man, he’s in his own personal dreampool.

Oh, how bad he wants to confess to you, but he’s really afraid of rejection. He fears losing you entirely, fears that you won’t look at him like you always do if he asked if you two could be a thing. He fears you’d think he was odd for wanting you to himself, and that you’d slowly back away until you refuse to even look at his broken, battered form any longer. The thought makes a shiver crawl up his back. He can’t lose you too.

All this man asks is to find a way to remove you from his head. You’re absolutely tormenting him! Notice how he’s been lacking on his work lately, always caught in a daze when he’s sitting down at his desk? That’s you he’s daydreaming about. He’s no good with his emotions. He knows how to hide sadness, fear, and anger, but he’s never been in this boat before. Love is a whole new concept to him.

“Aventurine, you’ve been out of it lately. Tell me, is something the matter?” You barge through the blonde's office, not even bothering to knock. You know you don’t have to, he’s never doing anything so significant in that tiny space that it needs to be kept private.

“What are you saying? Nothings up with me,” he drops his pen in the small plaster pen cup you bought for him. “Work has been tiring lately. Nothing to stress over.”

You plop into the chair in front of his desk, resting your arms on the top and putting your head in between your palms.

“I can tell when you lie. Tell the truth.”

He looks away. What was he supposed to say? That he couldn’t get you out of his brain, and that you’re the only thing he can focus on? That’ll scare you off for sure!

“Aventurine?? You there?” you wave a hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his daze once more. “You know, you don’t have to lie. I already know what you’re thinking.”

His eyes slightly widen, just enough for you to notice. You giggle very lightly before continuing on with your sentence. “You have a little crush, don’t you? Don’t worry, I like you back. Seriously, I do.”

He doesn’t know how to reply to that. He doesn’t know if he wants to faint or make out with you right now. “So that makes us…?”

“I don’t know. We could remain friends, we could be boyfriend girlfriend, whatever you want. I don’t care.”

Well, he believes he already knows the answer he’s choosing.

#aventurine #kakavasha #aventurine x reader #kakavasha x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #star rail #star rail x reader

428 notes · View notes

bg-brainrot · 7 months

Text

Unraveling Plan Meet Immeasurable Insecurity (Astarion x GN!Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Rating: Teen

Summary: Tav tries their damnedest to propose, only to be rebuffed by Astarion at every single turn.

Tags: Astarion POV - alternating w/Rogue!Tav, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Spawn Astarion, Post-Canon, Marriage Proposal, Mild Hurt/Comfort, insecurities

A/N: based on a request from a kind anon on Tumblr– "Would you ever consider writing a one-shot where Tav tries to propose to Astarion but keeps failing multiple times. But Tav doesn’t give up and raises the stakes higher and higher. Astarion will completely remain oblivious because he still has some self esteem issues (why would anyone want to marry him?) and is really confused why Tav is acting nervous around him."

I ended up taking it in a slightly different direction (based on the man’s self esteem issues as you pointed out, anon). Set an undetermined amount of years post BG3, post saving Karlach from Zariel, post-Lae’zel finishing the githyanki uprising so the gang's all here. I hope the kind anon still enjoys it!

Word count: ~5.6k

Astarion first has an inkling that something is the matter when you sneak away from him.

Odd, he thinks, watching your retreating back. Usually they invite me along for this sort of skulking about.

But he understands, better than most, what a bit of privacy could afford someone who hasn’t had any in so long. So he watches you leave, pretending all the while that he hasn’t noticed a thing. Best not embarrass them, of course.

He brushes off the incident as an anomaly– after all, you continue to be your usual self upon your return. Neither of you speak of your absence, and you seem rather pleased with yourself, so he is pleased for you.

The next time he notices something is off he grows a tad more worried.

This time you don’t disappear, but you do spend a concerning amount of time staring at his hands, expression pensive.

“Darling,” he starts. He quickly tucks his hands under the Elfsong table that you both sit at and leans forward. “What are you doing?”

You blanch at the question– an uncharacteristic reaction to be sure. “Oh,” you sound startled, as if you’ve been caught doing something quite naughty. “Nothing at all. Just wondering if you’d done anything new with your nails? They look… nice.”

It’s a lie, that much is clear to Astarion. But it’s not typical that you lie so poorly. And why should you lie? No matter, you look flustered and gods does he love it when you look flustered– it happens so rarely that he feels the need to truly relish it. “Don’t they?” he asks, flourishing his hands in front of you now. “How did you know? I dipped them in an essence of ooze to thoroughly moisturize them.”

“Really?” Your bewilderment almost brings a laugh out of him.

“Gods no, my dear,” he says, reaching out from under the table and for your hands. “You seem quite out of sorts. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you dismiss, staunchly avoiding eye contact with him.

Odd, he thinks again. Where is their usual daring now?

He’s forced to dismiss the thought as you flag down a waitress, ordering yourselves another bottle of wine.

Astarion becomes genuinely concerned when you return home late one night.

The two of you have grown comfortable together in your house, just on the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate, in a cozy corner of Rivington. The location allows you to continue your work with the guild, gives him plentiful access to any criminals that needed exsanguinating, and your former companions are never far.

It does mean that you will sometimes stay late in the city, working well into the sunlight hours– but you also know to send him a message on the days you stay out late. Otherwise your poor, beautiful vampire will waste away in worry.

“Where in the nine hells are they?” Astarion curses aloud on this particular dawning day. He’d tried sending a message to you, only to receive nothing back. He’d sent another to Shadowheart, again to silence. He considers trying someone less responsible like Karlach, when you finally burst through the front door.

“Oh! Astarion,” you say, surprise plain on your face. As if he wouldn’t be here, in your shared home no less, waiting for your arrival. “What are you still doing up?”

He watches you silently for a moment as you tuck something behind your back, straighten out uncomfortably. Then, with all of the annoyance he can muster, he rolls his eyes at you. “It’s lovely to see you too, my dear. It’s not as if I was worrying my gorgeous head off at the thought of you dead in some rank Baldurian gutter.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, shuffling around the room in a rather suspicious manner. “I lost track of time. I figured you would go to bed without me.”

Astarion can’t remember the last time he went to bed without at least knowing where you were. Even if he could, he suspects he really would rather not. “Darling, you know I need my warm-blooded lover by my side to enter my reverie. Besides, what could have possibly taken you so long?”

You hesitate, and something tugs at Astarion’s insides. He feels a sudden sense of fear, a dread that he may regret asking you this question.

What if you’re upset at him, and this was your way to maintain space? What if you’ve finally, rationally taken a look at your situation and determined that no, you’d really rather not love a monster like himself? Or worse, what if you’d found someone else, someone who could bask in the daylight alongside you? Gods, the idea sends his undead heart plummeting.

Just as you’re about to open your mouth to answer, he rescinds his question, “Nevermind. I don’t want to know. I merely wanted to make sure you were alive. You’re looking as sprightly as ever, so I shall head to bed.”

He doesn’t wait for your response, heading to bed in a dramatic swirl and even more sensational thoughts.

He’s right, he knows it to his core. You’ve found someone else, someone who can give you the life he never could. More than anything he wishes he had the courage to confront you, especially as all of your odd behavior clicks into place.

They snuck off to find a lover.

They were staring at my hands in the hopes that they were someone else’s.

They stayed out late to relish in another’s company.

They’re aloof because they’re leaving me and it’s all a matter of time.

It’s as plain as day. How could he have been so very, very blind?

You had concocted a nice, simple plan.

It involved a ring, a smattering of your closest friends, and a particularly prickly vampire. Ideally, the plan ended with the vampire agreeing to marry you.

Gods. The idea thrills you as much as it scares you: you are actually going to propose to Astarion.

After years together, you and Astarion are practically already married. This is merely a formality in your mind. But of course, for a man like Astarion, it's a formality that means only the utmost effort must be put in.

But, as it always goes in your life, your nice, simple fell apart.

The problem you're finding is that, after weeks of preparation and secretive planning, the man is being oddly distant. Distant and dismissive. It's almost as if he knows something is afoot, and he's utterly determined to make sure it doesn't happen.

Five times now he has thwarted your attempts at a proposal.

"Astarion," you had started the first time. "Would you like to take a walk in the park with me tonight?”

The look he’d given you was equal parts wary and panicked. So much so that you thought maybe you’d misspoken. But his response was measured enough. “No, thank you, darling. I’m afraid I’m quite spent today.” He gave you a yawn to illustrate his point, and you dropped the subject for the night.

You had had to send a message to Shadowheart to call off the trail of poisonous flowers that your friends were laying out for your stroll.

The next time, you had tried being a bit more casual in your attempt.

“Would you enjoy a day at the spa, Astarion?”

Again, he gave you a look that confused you. Frightened face, hackles raised– his only response was, “Why, darling, do I look that ghastly to you?”

“You know that’s not what I–”

“No matter,” he’d waved you off. “I am afraid I’m busy today.”

You’d sent a message to Karlach, telling her that the reservation of Baldur’s Gate’s spa was no longer needed.

The third time, you’d called in some more magical help.

“Astarion, what do you say to a moonlit picnic atop the roof of the Elfsong? We haven’t had one in a while.”

Appalled– utterly and truly aghast is the only way to describe the face he’d made. The words that followed didn't make you feel better either. “And why would we do that again after such a long while?”

Your stomach had roiled, worry settling in at his tone. “I thought it would be a chance to reminisce together.” Your tone stayed light, your smile just as friendly.

“It’s far too cold to bother with reminiscing,” he’d said, glowering at you. Looking at the hard set of his jaw, this is when you’d begun to worry that you’d done something to upset him.

“Is everything alright?” you’d asked, reaching out for his arm.

“It’s fine,” he’d replied, curtly, retreating from your grasp. “I just don’t want to be colder than I already am.”

You’d sent a message to Gale, instructing him to call off the magical skywriting over the Elfsong.

For your fourth attempt, you knew you needed someone with a slightly more forceful personality– and to perhaps lean a little less romantic.

“Astarion,” you’d begun, inflecting your tone with just the right amount of panic. “Lae’zel’s found a flock of mephits along the beach of Wyrm’s Crossing. She needs our help.”

“Mephits?” he’d asked, looking at you cautiously. “In Wyrm’s Crossing?”

“Yes,” you’d replied, nodding hurriedly. “We need to go now.”

He’d clicked his tongue at you and shaken his head. “As if Lae’zel couldn’t crush them all with a single swing. Seems to me like she’s grown lazy after all of her heroics.”

“Astarion,” you’d chided. “You know she will incredibly cross at us if she finds out you declined to help.”

“I’ll survive,” he’d said, returning to the book on his lap, hands turning paler than usual in a tense vice grip. “Probably.”

After, you’d sent a message to Lae’zel, instructing her to do as she pleased with the stash of fireworks on the beach.

The fifth time you’d grown genuinely, truly worried that something was wrong with Astarion because, by the gods, the man had refused to commit crime with you.

After so many failed attempts, you’d figured that you needed to go back to the roots of your relationship– to a simpler time when petty theft gave you some time alone together.

“I heard a rumor through the guild,” you’d said offhandedly over dinner. “A newly minted noble in the Upper City has quite the horde of wealth and very little security. What do you say that we pay them a visit, perhaps ‘relieve’ them of some of their wealth?”

Astarion had faltered, clearly tempted by your offer. But after nearly two weeks of avoiding going anywhere with you, he didn’t outright agree either. “And why would you need me for this particular job?”

The question had taken you aback. You’d never needed a reason to invite him along for crime of all things. It made you near certain that he knew what you were up to and that something about it was distasteful to him. Sweet hells, it made you nervous. “I, erm… well, I could use an extra pair of hands to carry it all, I suppose?”

“I could lend you my pack then,” he’d said, narrowing his eyes at you.

Why is he trying to avoid me? Have his feelings changed? you’d thought in fear. Aloud, you’d only doubled down. “Well, the company might be nice. And you know that your lockpicking is, somehow, better than mine.”

“I thought you said security was sparse,” he’d countered.

“Sparse doesn’t mean nonexistent.”

“Not much of a challenge then, is it?”

You had wanted to scream into the astral plane. Wanted to flip the table over his pretty pale face. Wanted to tell him, ‘You know what, I didn’t want to marry such a stubborn vampire anyway!’ – but you did none of those things. Because you love this man and, even when he’s being difficult, you do want to marry him.

So you had gritted your teeth and said, “Very well then. I shall borrow your pack.”

You’d sent a message to Wyll later to call off his father’s help with the upper city guards.

For your sixth attempt, you decide you first need to reconvene with your council– also known as your former companions.

When you’d first met with them at the start of this whole ordeal, you’d snuck away from Astarion. It made you feel a bit guilty, sneaking around, hiding things from him, but the entire proposal was meant to be a fun surprise– one you are starting to suspect is a misguided effort.

You profess as much aloud now that you’re meeting up with the five of them again, seated around the table in Jaheira’s kitchen. “Maybe there is no sixth attempt. Maybe I’ve overestimated the love between us.”

“Don’t say that,” Wyll says, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, squeezing softly in reassurance. “Your love is strong. And together we will find a way to make this proposal work.”

You smile up at the man, one always so willing to believe in the power of a good love story. You’re almost sorry to be disappointing him– and the smut peddlers. Really, you’re sorry to be disappointing all of your friends. Each of your companions had been eager to help you in your endeavor, in their own ways, of course.

Gale had congratulated you prematurely at first, misunderstanding your Sending spell. But when you’d clarified, asked him for his help, he’d only been incredibly enthused, arriving the very next day, offering all manner of suggestions.

Karlach, for her part, was only ever excited, practically bouncing off the walls that two of her best mates may potentially tie the knot. At the low, low price of allowing her to be your person of honor, she was entirely at your disposal.

Lae’zel had been confused initially. In her mind, you were already committed to a life together. What was the purpose of this… proposal? Of marriage? But when you’d explained to her a bit, she’d been curious– and excited at the potential of catching Astarion off guard.

Shadowheart had seemed surprised when you’d asked. You weren’t already married? Alas, she’d gotten the plot of one of the many bawdy novels about you confused with real life. No matter, she was happy to help.

And, well, Wyll– when he returned from Avernus he’d been disappointed that you weren’t at the very least engaged yet. It was no shock or awe to him when you visited him for help. In fact, he had only given you a wry smile and said, “I knew you would be the one to cave.”

As for Jaheira, well, she was allowing you to use her house as a headquarters, but had proclaimed early, “Invite me to the wedding and I shall be there, but until then– well, this is for you lot to figure out.”

And gods were you having trouble figuring it out.

“I don’t know, Wyll. I’m worried Astarion may never revert back to normal at this rate,” you say, shaking your head.

“Was he ever normal?” Shadowheart asks with a soft snort. “Besides, he can be awfully dense at times, you may just need to ask him outright.”

“There is not a single realm in which Astarion says yes to a simple proposal,” you say, brows furrowing. “You know he’d want something flashy.”

Gale raises a finger sagely before countering, “Well, my friend, sometimes what we want and what we need are two different things. I’m inclined to agree that you may just need to pop the question.”

“What if…” you trail off, your worries from the past weeks bogging down your thoughts. Somehow, despite everything you’ve been through, this seems to be your toughest challenge yet. “Do you think he knows what I’m doing and is simply too afraid to reject me?” you ask the group, turning to each of them with pleading eyes. You’re honestly not sure you can take his rejection, especially after the last five rebuffs.

“Not a chance in the hells,” Karlach answers. “I think he’s being a right idiot, actually. And if he knew what was happening, he may even say yes before you can so much as get the question out.”

“Really?” Your mood lightens a bit, her harsh words slashing through the hardened doubts that have settled over your heart.

“Is it any surprise to us that Astarion is incapable of seeing the truth before him?” Lae’zel says, rolling her eyes. “Such sharp skills, yet completely dull in the face of our efforts.”

“Again, we may just need a softer touch,” Shadowheart suggests, tilting her head at you.

You’re not sure what a softer touch might be, and, from the silence that follows, neither are any of your companions.

Your resident wizard is the first to break the silence. “I could always create a simulacra–”

“Gale,” Wyll interjects, politely. “I’m afraid I don’t think that’s much softer.”

“Right,” Gale says, leaning back in his seat.

Another long moment of silence and you’re truly starting to feel defeated. You hang your head a bit, thoughts filled with the image of a certain beautiful, pale elf’s mouth curling at you in distaste, forming a pronounced ‘no.’

“Soldier,” Karlach starts. You look up to see her smirking at you. “If he won’t willingly join you anywhere. I think we both know what you need to do.”

–

They are going to sink the final nail in the metaphorical coffin.

For nearly two weeks now, Astarion has successfully avoided his lover’s attempts to get together in a public space– likely what they saw was the best, most civil way to dispose of him. But, foolish as it is to cling to something like a withered love, Astarion doesn’t want this relationship to end.

Perhaps, if I can do this for long enough, they will change their mind, he thinks. Gods, that sounds pathetic, even for him.

Astarion was running out of excuses, and, worse yet, running out of willpower. What is the use in fighting the inevitable? he thinks, as he walks down the streets of Baldur’s Gate. It’s a moonlit night, and he’s on the prowl for a criminal to bite– he needs something, anything to distract him from his woes.

He turns the corner, on high alert.

Then again, a more selfish part of him counters. Why shouldn't you fight for your love? They were the first good thing to ever happen to you in this damned world.

That’s when he spots them– the-first-good-thing-to-ever-happen-to-him is hiding behind a bush directly before him, facing another alleyway. There are very few reasons that they would be out at this time of night, in the middle of this particular street of Baldur’s Gate. While they could be on a mission for the guild, he had last seen them at home, reading by the fire. It’s clear that they followed him, are waiting to ambush him.

Is this it? he thinks, eyes narrowing. His chest hurts, more than ought to be possible given his lack of beating heart. Is this how desperate they are to be rid of me? May as well go out with flair, I suppose…

Astarion sneaks forward, careful to remain outside of your field of view. He settles behind you in the darkness of the bush, watching you as you look out for him. Despite the ache in his heart, the clenching of his stomach, he can’t help but think of how lovely you look under the moonlight– of how lucky he has been to have had you.

If this truly is it, he thinks. I can’t wallow or cry. I shall hold my head high and consider myself fortunate to have met them. To have loved them. At least, he hopes he’s capable of such a performance. Because right now, quietly crouched next to you, he wants nothing more than to pull you into his arms, to beg you to reconsider.

But no. He refuses to look pathetic– not after the life he has lived.

So, after waiting with you for a few minutes, he leans forward into your personal space and asks, “Darling, what are you doing?”

Astarion is ready for your instincts to kick in, so when your knife is drawn in a flash and you’re lunging for him, he’s easily dodging backward, holding his hands up in peace. “Now, now darling, I thought we were past the knives at throats.”

“Astarion?” you ask, startled. “Sweet hells, you haven’t snuck up on me like that in years.”

“Yes, well,” he says, avoiding your eyes now. He’s surprised by how much gazing into them has weakened his composure already. “You also haven’t looked so utterly distracted by your own thoughts in years either.”

“What are you doing here?” you ask, ignoring his words. “I thought…”

Yes, dear, what did you think? he wants to ask, to catch you in the act with a cruel moment of revelation, to hurt you as much as you’re about to hurt him. But when he brings his eyes back to yours, he knows he can’t do that. While he’s still capable of maiming, killing, all manner of atrocities– he cannot hurt you. So he only says, “I was out hunting and I saw you hiding in a bush. What are you doing here?”

“I–” you falter, seemingly torn. Perhaps you’re having second thoughts. Perhaps this is his chance to keep you from breaking his cold, crumbling heart.

“Do you need assistance, dear?” he asks, ready and willing to show how much he would do for you. Anything, honestly, if it means you’ll stay by his side.

“Gods, I keep mucking this all up,” you mutter, head hanging in uncharacteristic defeat. “Maybe Shadowheart was right.”

What did that damned cleric do now? Is she the one you’re leaving him for? He’s about to make a reflexive, snide comment about her veritable barnyard of animals, but stops when he sees you sheath your blade. When you wipe a hand over your face in frustration.

Oh. You’re miserable. You wouldn’t look like this normally. You would never be this nervous, this stressed to see him– not unless his very presence had turned toxic. “I should go, shouldn’t I?” he asks, throat tight.

“No!” you say, reaching out a hand to keep him from leaving. Your grip is tight, painful in its panic, but he doesn’t complain. How could he when you look like this?

More than anything, he wants this worry that lines your face to fade, the jittery movement of your hands to abate. So maybe it’s up to him to spark the beginning of the end… “Did you… have something you wanted to tell me?” he asks, swallowing down the fear that threatens to overwhelm him.

“I…” you gulp, bringing your second hand to join the first, loosening your grip. You raise your head, and he sees the tumult in your gaze. At the very least, you must care about him somewhat to stress yourself this much. “Astarion, please don’t be upset.”

How could he not? But, somehow, he manages a sad smile at you anyway. “As if I could ever be upset with you, my love.”

Then you drop to a knee in front of him.

–

“Astarion,” you say, voice shaking a bit with nerves. “I had wanted this to be something lovely. Something meaningful. But… I guess you love ruining plans, don’t you?”

“What,” he breathes out, confusion plain on his face. His red eyes dart between yours, as if trying to process a sudden, large shift. You suppose it would be a shift in your relationship, even if you were practically married already. If he even decided to say yes.

You release his arm with one hand, reaching into your side pouch for the small square box that’s waiting for you. Fingers less dexterous than usual, you fumble over clutching it, opening it single handedly. You’re not used to looking this foolish, and you can feel a heat over your cheeks, an anxious shake to your movements.

But before too long the box is open, a shining platinum band resting inside.

It looks like everything you’d hoped for in the moment– its inlaid red rubies catch the moonlight just beautifully. You’d spent weeks agonizing, wondering if you had picked the right one, imagining what it might look like were it to be placed on his perfect pale finger. Here and now, with this man standing before you, you know it would look exquisite.

“Astarion,” you start again, courage returning to you with that knowledge, some of the words you’d prepared coming back to your mind. “These past years together have been the best years of my life. You’re my best friend, my dual blade, and I love you more than I can even say. I don’t know what our future holds, but I would consider myself lucky to walk towards it with you at my side. So…” You pull the ring from the box, holding it up to the man you love with a smile. “Would you, Astarion Ancunín, do me the honor of marrying me?”

Astarion Ancunín, despite years of quick quips and sultry words, seems to be frozen in place, unable to speak.

You’re used to these moments, when he needs to process, but you’re not used to them when you’re on one knee, waiting for a response. “Astarion?” you hazard.

“You’re…” he says, face slack, mouth barely moving. “You’re proposing to me?”

It’s not a no, but it’s certainly not the reaction you’d be hoping for. “Erm, yes. Is that… distasteful to you?” You can feel your hand recoil somewhat, your smile slip.

His expression remains blank, lips slightly agape as he continues to take in the scene before him. “You– you don’t have a new lover? You’re not planning to leave me?”

“What?” Now it’s your turn to be flabbergasted. “Astarion, what are you talking about?”

The sigh that leaves him then could collapse a small house. “Sweet hells,” he says, face and body relaxing. “I thought… I thought that you were acting odd, like– like–”

“Like I was trying to surprise you with the magnificent proposal you deserve?” you respond, suddenly understanding his behavior and growing a smidge annoyed. “Like I didn’t want to propose to you behind some damned bushes?”

Astarion looks around, as if just now realizing where you are, what is happening. “Yes, now that you mention it, like that.”

You want to be upset, but then the man above you laughs. It’s light, breathy, and utterly relieved. “You were really worried, weren’t you?”

“Oh my sweet love, I was about ready to jump into an Oubliette,” he says, shaking his head ruefully.

“You thought I would leave you, just like that?” you ask, brows furrowing in concern. Maybe you should have just proposed in your living room.

“I wouldn’t blame you,” he says, looking down at you with a tinge of sadness in his smile. “I doubt that this was the life you were looking for, darling. As a matter of fact, are you… sure about this?” He eyes the ring in your hand, all but forgotten in his confusion.

You proffer it again, raising your hand a bit higher this time. “The only life I’m looking for is the one with you in it, Astarion. I am quite sure.”

His scarlet eyes dart between yours questioningly, and you merely stare back, staunch in your words and intent. “Even if I’m a fool that forced your hand– left you kneeling in the dirt?”

“We’ve done worse things on dirt, Astarion,” you say, smiling widening at the memory of the first time he’d told you he loved you. “If you’d like me to get out of the dirt though, you could answer my question: Would you marry me?”

Once more, he looks between your eyes, this time his are wide, open– daring to believe that his darkest fears are just that. Fears. Ones that you would vanquish without a second thought. How could he have been so blind to that. Moisture pools at the corner of his eyes at the realization.

So he drops to his knees, reaching for your face with his hands. In a single movement, he’s pulled you toward him, captured your lips with his with an undeniable longing. A longing to hold you in his hands for as long as he is able. A longing to taste your lips on his, each and every day. A longing to never be without you, to be yours until death do you part.

You respond to his kiss in kind, lips pressing against him with your own pent up longing. He distantly hears the ring’s box fall to the floor, feels your hand brush past his ear to clutch his hair. You kiss him like he’s the answer to every question you’ve ever had and he feels a small tear run down his face as his eyes squeeze tightly shut.

Gods he would never tire of kissing you.

I ought to respond, he thinks in the back of his head, as he moves his lips against yours.

Is this not response enough? he argues, not wanting to break apart from you, for even a moment.

No, it wouldn’t do to have any confusion, not after the past two weeks.

So, before he can forget himself, he pulls back from you, far enough to look into your eyes. “That was a ‘yes’ in case that wasn’t evident.”

You laugh, short and breathless. “Oh good,” you say, leaning back further and bringing up the ring between you. “Then may I?”

Astarion removes his left hand from your face, holds it out to you with a large, gleeful smile. “You may.”

You slip the ring onto his finger. It fits well, matches his eyes, looks positively sumptuous– as always, you know him too well. “It’s stunning,” he says, angling it one way then another.

“I’m glad you like it,” you say, smiling at the sight. “And that you didn’t catch me when I tried to sneak it past you.”

The vampire laughs, shaking his head free of his own silly thoughts. “I smashed your plans into tiny little pieces, didn’t I?”

You don’t say yes, but the look on your face is evidence enough. “I’ll tell you all about what you missed out on later. For now, we should, erm, go get our friends.”

“Go get our friends?” he asks, wondering what in the hells they have to do with all of this.

“Yes,” you say, planting a kiss on his hand before moving to get up. “They’re all in place for another one of these ill fated plans.”

“Ah,” he says, following you up. Then, realizing what you’ve said, he looks at you with concern. “Just what were you in this bush for?”

To your credit, you look abashed. But your words do nothing to lessen his concern. “Seeing as you were refusing to come with me, well, anywhere, we had to pivot our strategy.”

“Darling,” he starts, his tone a deceptive sweetness. “Whatever does that mean?”

“It was Karlach’s plan,” you say, as a means of explanation.

“Oh good. I’m sure whatever it was was perfectly sane then.”

Scratching at the back of your neck, you finally admit the plan, “I was going to give them a signal when you passed. Gale was going to make an illusory double of me getting kidnapped by the rest of them in disguise, then hopefully you would take chase to go save me, they would lose you just as you got to the Elfsong where I would be waiting…”

Astarion looks at you sharply, his mouth a disapproving line. “Really?”

“In retrospect, I can see the flaws in the plan,” you say, palms open. “But in my defense, I was getting desperate. Either way, we ought to go get them. Karlach seemed just about ready to explode from hiding that long.”

“Fine,” he says reluctantly. “This is what we get for having such imbeciles for friends.”

“Funny,” you start, holding out a hand to him. “They said the same about you.”

He takes your hand with an exaggerated eye roll, but can’t help the smile that comes over his face at the feeling of your fingers twining with his. “It’s a shame you had to resort to them for help.”

“I really needed it. You know, I have killed more people than I can count, but you have been my most challenging mark by far,” you say, dramatically as you begin to walk down the alleyway.

“Worse than the giant, world-ending brain?”

“Oh yes.”

The two of you walk in silence for a few steps before Astarion feels compelled to say one last thing before reaching your friends. “Darling, I truly am sorry I ruined all of your plans, but I must ask: Please don’t try to surprise me like this again.”

The expression on your face deflates a little, and you say, “I thought you would like something grand?”

He brings your hand up to his lips for a soft, reassuring peck. “Normally, yes. But, I love you so very much. I’m afraid it clouds my usually impeccable judgment.”

You don’t comment on his judgment, instead focusing on his proclamation of love. “I love you too. So, hopefully, there isn’t a second proposal.”

“One can only hope,” Astarion says with a laugh. “And, if there is, perhaps it’s my turn to do the proposing?”

“Love, if you surprise me, I may kill you,” you say, plainly.

“A risk I’ve always been willing to take, my dear,” the man replies, pulling on your hand. “Now, come. I think I can spot Wyll’s peeking eye from here.”

Hand-in-hand, the two of you walk toward your waiting friends, ready to tell them the good news.

It wasn’t the grand proposal you had envisioned. Nor was it even a particularly romantic one. But, somehow, it was still perfect, still loving, still the beautiful new beginning to the rest of your lives together.

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #rogue + rogue #astarion x reader #astarion fluff #astarion fic #love at first knife #tadfools tomfoolery #astarion fanfic #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion pov #astarion is bad at feelings #proposal fic

405 notes · View notes

coralinnii · 8 months

Note

Is it alright if I request Ruggie, Deuce, Trey and Cater helping fem!reader with her period?

‧₊˚✧ To share our joys and abdominal pain ‧₊˚✧

↳ Helping fem!reader going through periods

feat: Ruggie ❋ Deuce ❋ Trey ❋ Cater genre: fluff, humor note: no pronouns were used for reader (I just ended up not using any), symptoms of periods vary in stories to match the reality of different experiences in real life,

Fun fact, some of the scenarios in this post were inspired by real life experiences between me and my male friends. I missed those idiots, but now they’re somewhat smarter now. Me and my friends called it “the shining” cuz of the famous elevator scene xD

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

Not gonna lie, he might be a little afraid of you whenever the time of the month comes around.

Coming from a nation where women are revered as strong and aggressive as well as coming from a woman-dominated culture, Ruggie had learned an important lesson in not pissing anyone off when their body is going through what could be described as hell, blood included.

Whether your symptoms are more tolerable or excruciating, it was still a surprise to suddenly see your nervous boyfriend carrying a gift basket with essentials like a peace offering of sorts. Appreciative, but a surprise nonetheless.

It was also a surprise to see that Ruggie had built a little fort for you filled with fluffy blankets and pillows. Ruggie can’t imagine how painful cramps can get but if you need to curl yourself, he rather you have somewhere comfy and warm to do so.

No one tell him he just essentially built a nest for his partner. He already knows.

Once you enter his nest fort, you’ll never leave. Not because you can’t but rather you never needed to. Anything you needed or had a craving for, the observant hyena caught on and was quick to make your wishes come true.

Under his fears, he watches over you in worried awe as you brave through your pain the best you can. He always had respect for anyone who has to go through the day in so much pain but when you smiled at him so sweetly as you thanked him for bringing you some painkillers, his heart bleeds.

Whether he has to run 10 miles to get you something with his money or just to rub small circles on your stomach to ease the cramps, he’s willing to do any work to make you a little better.

"You hungry? I can whip up something good in the kitchen if you're hankerin' for something sweet. Leona'll understand me goin' missing for a while. Afterall, I gotta stay when my babe needs me. Shyeheehee~"

He was panicking so much, it’s almost comical.

This lovable dummy won’t know what’s going on with you and simply you were sick or unhappy with him given how easily irritated and queasy you were throughout the first day. It was until you flat out told him that he finally put two and two together.

“oh…Oh…OH SHI-!”

He wants to help so much but the former delinquent has no clue on anything regarding the female anatomy. He tried looking up some helpful advice but unfortunately he only got more confused because it’s the fricking internet.

“Deuce, what are you doing?”

“Protecting you. I read that bears and sharks can smell you and they’ll attack you!”

Thankfully, a call with his mom sent him in a better direction. The embarrassing flush of red of his cheeks was a cute contrast to his blue hair and eyes.

With guidance and some trial-and-error, Deuce was trying his darndest in helping you throughout these hellish days. Even if you’re the type to rather handle things yourself, it was nice to have someone by your side even if you get more irritable than usual.

Like when a particularly bad wave of cramps suddenly hit you in the middle of the day.

The excruciating twisting and stabbing feeling in your abdomen brought you close to tears as you gritted your teeth to bear the pain. With swirling feelings of nausea and anger clouding your senses, your fight-or-flight senses kicked in as you growled out for people not to touch you in such a sensitive state.

Almost everyone cowered at your seething words, except for Deuce. Instead, he wordlessly scooped you up in his arms and quickly made his way to the infirmary, only opening his mouth to apologize as you punched and yelled at him while in pain.

It wasn’t until he finally laid you down onto the comforting bed of the infirmary that you apologized for your harsh behaviour, but the blue-haired freshman only grinned at you, fist to his chest like a show of confidence.

“I may be an idiot, but I’m pretty strong and can take a punch. I’m gonna be right here if you ever need anything.”

One of the more level-headed students on campus, he wasn’t too panicked when you told him when your monthly visitor came around.

Being someone with a younger sister, Trey at least has some basic understanding of what could happen during this time.

Since it shouldn’t be anyone’s business but your own, he kept your predicament discrete for your privacy. If anyone in Heartslabyul did take notice and made any demeaning comments about it, they had a sudden flux of kitchen clean up duty because “since they happen to be so free to talk about someone else’s pain, they can do some good around the dorm.”

He would take over your Grim duties during the first few hellish days, keeping your rambunctious dormmate distracted when he noticed that you’re not quite in the best mind or body to watch over him.

If you don’t specifically tell him though, he may go a little overboard with taking care of you. Trey is the type to be over prepared with everything and anything that involves you. Of course, he’ll bake you some of your favourite treats but he would also refill your hot bottle, remind you constantly to stay hydrated, and gently force you to lay down if you get migraines.

Trey is a sweetheart through and through, ready to help with anything if it would turn your pain from a 100 to even a 99. Even if all you ask is for him to caress your head as you rest before he leaves, he’s sure he could probably talk his way out of his vice housewarden duties for the day, just to stay with you through it all.

“Are you awake? You should have something sweet to eat to ease the cramps. Ha ha, don’t be shy. What would you like me to make?"

None of this is new to him. He grew up with two older sisters for Seven’s sake, he understands and sees the sh*t the body goes through every month. He could watch you wreck an entire room or cry for hours on end and just go “hmm, valid.”

He’ll still act like his typical fun and flirty self. Even when he had a feeling you were on your period, he doesn’t pry or hint his suspicion unless you told him yourself. He knew it wasn’t his place to comment on anything.

If you do tell him, he will try his best to make you feel the best through this painful ride of hormones. He just doesn’t wanna make you feel like you’re getting unwanted attention during all of this.

The two of you would have sleepovers whenever you feel too tired or if your body feels too sore to move. If you’re prone to bad breakouts during periods and feeling unattractive, Cater would dispel your worries by making you feel so beautiful, leaving sweet kisses on your face as he’s pampering your aching body.

Despite what people may think of his attention-seeking tendencies, Cater’s very intuitive and works to make you feel good throughout the monthly changes. Never is he the type to make you feel bad or burdensome for your unpredictable needs and aches.

For you, the outgoing junior could spend the day away chatting about anything and everything just to distract you from the mood swings. If you feel too tired to talk, Cater would happily lend you his shoulder to rest on while the two of you bundle together under a warm blanket and watch cute animal videos on his phone.

“Don’t worry, your Cay-Cay is here for you, cutie~! Just relax and take care of your totes fab self, ‘kay?

419 notes · View notes

neptuneiris · 9 months

Text

could you pretend to be in love? (01/10)

The Proposal

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)

summary: with his last relationship ending in disaster and giving the college a lot to talk about, the most popular guy comes to you for help to save his reputation. but you never expected him to need to fake a relationship... with you.

word count: 4.8k

series masterlist • next part

AHHH GUYS I am so excited!

okey this is an unexpected idea, obviously I have been inspired by all the boys i loved before because recently i watch the three movies and i love the result of this and I have so much prepared for it that I'm so excited for you guys to read it already:)

I still have a bit more to work on but so far I'm loving it so I look forward to reading your opinions on it, for now enjoy a small part of everything to come! thank you for reading and for your support❣

also leaked everything I have planned a few moments ago but in spanish. I didn't even put the draft to post it, so I don't know what happened but it was my cue to finally share this hehe

"Y/N... I need your help."

That was the first thing someone said to you one Thursday morning in the library before your Science class started, this beginning a rather... peculiar day.

But you didn't expect those words to be said by Aemond Targaryen, the most popular guy in basically the whole school, to you, the most introverted girl in the class and probably not in the whole school since there are people even more introverted than you, but something like that.

So you slowly put your book down, raising your gaze to watch Aemond in front of you slightly confused and expectantly.

And the first thing you see is his eager and needy gaze in your direction, completely attentive to you. His hand grips the strap of his backpack and his gorgeous silver hair falls elegantly like a curtain down his back.

"Y-yes?"

"I'm..." he starts to tell you a little hesitantly, "I'm interrupting you with something?"

"Hum..." you look at your books scattered around the table for a moment, "I'm just... studying for the test on Monday."

"Oh," he nods absently, "Okay, listen, I don't want to stop you but this is really important and I need you to listen to me," he pleads quietly, looking really desperate, "The faster we talk, the faster I'll leave you alone and you can get back to studying."

And this is what gets your attention completely.

However, you continue to feel a mixture of mild surprise and confusion as it is unusual for him to address you or for you to talk to him despite being in the same classes.

You almost always find yourself in the corners, away from conversations and curious glances, although that doesn't mean that you are not participative and one of the best in your class, since you are always taking notes and concentrating on your studies.

You don't really talk to many people, only to people who are just as untalkative and quiet as you are.

And on the other hand, there is Aemond Targaryen, also a student just as dedicated as you and the best in the class, with the difference that he always occupies a place at the front of the classroom, always surrounded by friends and admirers.

He is the type of person that everyone notices and not only because of his unusual appearance, which in fact drives all the girls crazy, but also because of his charisma, personality and for being the captain of the lacrosse team.

And this is why despite being in the same classes, neither of you had ever had a reason to cross words before. You didn't even know that he knew your name, while everyone around you knows his.

"Okay..." you say not entirely convinced, "What is it?"

Aemond takes a deep breath of air, taking his gaze away from yours for a moment, looking a bit nervous and hesitant, which is very rare from him, as he has always proven to be a decisive and firm person for everything.

And in an act of nerves, he quickly takes a seat in front of you, still looking just as desperate as before.

"Look, I know we don't talk much even though we share classes..." he pauses a little, "Well, we don't really talk at all," he corrects himself, "And I also know you don't have any reason to... help me, but..." he sighs frustrated, "I really need your help."

You look expectant, waiting for him to tell you more, but apparently he himself doesn't know what it is he's going to ask you for help with, or rather he can't believe it, as he looks very nervous and can't find the right words to tell you.

So before asking the big question, he speaks again first.

"Do you know my ex-girlfriend? Alys Rivers?"

You raise your eyebrows at him a little, still expectantly, not understanding what that has to do with him asking for your help and you make your confusion clear for a moment, but still nod in his direction.

Because of course, how could you not know who Alys Rivers is?

She's like a more modern version of walking Regina George, with the other difference being that Alys is black hair.

"Ah... yeah."

"And I'm sure you must know what happened between me and her recently," he tells you cautiously and also a little expectantly.

"I think the whole school knows," you make it clear to him, in a soft tone.

"Yeah, of course, I just wanted to make sure," he tells you without further elaboration, "Anyway, I need your help with that."

You frown and look at him not entirely convinced.

"You want to talk about how your ex-girlfriend cheated on you?"

"No, no, not that, of course not," he hurries to say, "I need your help with her, with Alys," he clarifies but you're still just as confused.

"Aemond, you're not being entirely clea—

"I need you to fake a relationship with me."

He tells you bluntly, in an impulsive act to tell you once and for all before it becomes more difficult, causing you to become speechless and disbelief and surprise to flash in your eyes and gaze.

Suddenly your heart starts beating too fast, completely bewildered, waiting for him to tell you it's a joke.

However, the expression on his face makes it clear to you that he is not joking and that he is being terribly serious and honest about this, despite how absurd his words have sounded, making you feel only even more confused.

"I'm serious, Y/N. I'm really asking you this," he states to you, in a low voice, completely honest and desperate.

Again, surprise washes over you and a wave of insecurity washes over your entire insides, as you can't quite believe it and understand it.

"W-what?"

You almost whisper, even with all the disbelief in your gaze. And he lets out a sigh, bringing his hands to his head.

"Look, I know it sounds crazy and ridiculous, but... I really need to do this with someone," he says softly, pleadingly and quietly, "And not have anyone suspect, of course. This just to make Alys jealous and to stop me looking like a fool in front of the whole school after what she did."

You continue to stare at him incredulously, your lips parted and your brow furrowed, saying nothing for a few moments as Aemond in front of you begins to lose patience.

But he understands and knows what you must be thinking, it's the same thing he thought when he came up with this 'great' idea. He knew you would look at him the way you are looking at him now, like a madman.

"I'm sure it won't take us long, just enough time to convince the whole school and no more," he tries to convince you, insistent.

"But..." you say incredulously, "Do you realize what you're talking about?"

"Yes, I realize it. But it's not like it's the biggest crime or the biggest scam in the world either," he tells you absurdly.

Another silence.

You definitely didn't expect him to tell you all this and why he wants to. You understand his desperation since literally the whole school found out that Alys cheated on the hottest guy in the whole school with a college guy or something. And she along with him were the perfect couple of the moment.

So you understand that he's upset and humiliated, but he's willing to go to this length?

You are not on the same page as him.

"Please, Y/N," he begs you low and watching you completely intently.

"Hum..." you say beginning to feel uncomfortable, as you look away from him, "I-I'm sorry, but I'm sure someone else could help you, Ae—

"Please," he says desperately, "At least consider it."

"Aemond, this is literally the first conversation we've both had after sharing classes for almost three years," you tell him incredulously, trying to prove your point, "We don't talk to each other, we don't really know each other and for you to suddenly ask me for help with this..." you pause, then shrug, "I don't understand."

"It's not that hard to understand," he says still insistent, "And I get what you mean, but..." he lets out a sigh, "Look, I haven't asked anyone else for help, you're the first because I want you to be the one to do this with me—

"You don't need to try to make me feel special, you know? I-I don't—

"No, that's not why," he assures you, "In fact you're the only one who could help me, there's no one better," he explains, "I've been watching you lately, you're discreet, you hardly talk to anyone, basically no one notices you and this way, no one will expect it, not even Alys."

And even though he tried to explain himself in the best way without malice in his words and without referring to you in a bad way when explaining why you, you feel a slight sharp pain in your chest with confusion, sadness and resentment invading you.

"You don't need to explain who I am or what I'm like," you say in your low voice, avoiding looking him in the eye, trying to control your tone that conveys sadness but also seriousness, "Nor do you need me to be the resolution to your problems."

Aemond's gaze transforms to one of concern and distress, watching you completely intently.

"No, no, wait," he says instantly, his tone full of regret, "Fuck, I'm sorry, that's not what I meant, rea—

"Don't worry about it anymore," you reply with a nonchalant wave of your hand, keeping your gaze serious as you begin to put your things away.

"No, please, Y/N, wait," he pleads, trying to stop you, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to put you down or anything. I just wanted to explain—

"Look, I understand what you want to accomplish, but that doesn't justify using someone else, especially someone you barely know, to solve your own problems."

"Y/N, please. I'm sorry, just let me—

He tries to stop you, looking for an opportunity to clear the air, but you're already leaving.

"I can't help you," you interrupt him again in a final tone.

And without further ado you turn away from him, not caring that you've left the books on the table without returning them to the shelves. And even though he tries to stop you between apologies, you don't let him and walk away from him.

Of course, that wouldn't be the only time Aemond would try to talk to you.

After what happened in the library, no matter where you were, even being in the last empty halls on the top floor during lunchtime, Aemond would always find you to try to talk and apologize.

But you whenever you saw him approaching, you would always slip into another hallway or blend in among all the other students, looking for and finding any alternative to avoid talking to him.

But he kept trying.

And you didn't understand how you suddenly went from having your nose stuck in books all the time, to going from avoiding the hottest and most popular guy in the whole school.

Because you knew that not only would he try to apologize, he would also try to convince you again about his idea and right now you had too many things on your mind to worry about other people's needs.

So one day, taking advantage of the fact that you have a free class after lunchtime and you won't have to worry about Aemond for a while, you head to the schoolyard, choose a table, set up your laptop, open a folder and put on your headphones.

But it seems that things are not in your favor today.

You haven't even played your Spotify playlist when you see Aemond approaching in the distance from the lacrosse field.

You almost want to cry from frustration.

So without wasting any time, you stand up and quickly start putting your things away.

"Oh, come on Y/N," you hear his disappointed complaint in the distance and he starts trotting towards you.

You can't help but feel annoyed too, but before you can take a step, he gets there first.

"Would you stop stalking me, please?" you demand as you start to walk away.

"Please, just let me talk to you for a second," he pleads, stopping you gently but firmly.

"There's nothing even to talk about," you tell him earnestly and disinterestedly at the same time, trying to fend him off and move forward.

He again blocks your path.

"Please," he repeats, "I just want to apologize for the other day."

"We both know that's not what you really came here to say."

He lets out a long sigh as he looks away from you for a moment, then returns to watching you intently and with some concern.

And you wonder what he's doing here. He's wearing his lacrosse uniform so shouldn't he be training with his team or something?

"Look, I understand that you're upset....

He starts to say and you understand at that moment that he has no intention of going anywhere until he has finished talking to you.

"... but I need you to know that I'm really sorry I said those words to you. It wasn't what I really meant, it was cruel and I didn't realize it at the time."

You let out a long breath as you look away and press your lips together.

"It's okay, I understand," you look at him, "And I forgive you, if that's what you need to hear, fine, I forgave you. Now it's all forgotten and we can call it even."

Again, you try to dodge him to get away, but he steps in your way again, blocking your path.

"Wait," he asks, "Just wait," he repeats to you in his insistent voice, full of longing and concern evident on his face. "Can we talk, please?"

You shake your head as you bite the inside of your cheek, feeling your frustration mounting.

"I already told you I won't do it, Aemond."

"Have you at least considered it?" his tone becomes expectant and frustrated.

"Yes and it's an idea that makes no sense," you reply absurdly, interrupting him. "Or well, maybe to you it does, but—

"So that's it?" he interrupts you immediately, his gaze fixed on yours, "Do you want to benefit from this too if we do?"

You immediately shake your head in his direction, trying to deny any hint of that.

"No, that wasn't what—

"What do you want in return?" he interrupts again, his expression completely willing and attentive. "Tell me what it is you want to agree to pretend to be in a relationship with me."

Seven Hells.

You think as a frustrated sigh escapes your lips.

You feel trapped in an emotional interrogation, struggling to find the right words as you desperately search for a way out. His direct and persistent questions leave you blank for a moment.

"Listen, I can't and don't have time to help you with something like that."

He sighs, looking away from you for a moment.

"Okay," he says, moving to take a seat on the other side of the table you were sitting at earlier, "I'm listening," he watches you carefully.

You frown at his change in attitude.

"You hear me?" you repeat, confused.

"Yes, I hear you," he replies, looking at you expectantly, "Tell me why you can't and why you don't have the time."

"Don't you have training or something?"

"Yes, but it doesn't matter."

"You'll get into tro—

"It doesn't matter," he interrupts you, keeping his seriousness and attention, "So tell me, I'm listening."

He lets out an incredulous, absurd laugh.

"I don't have to explain myself with yo—

"The point here is that I don't believe you," he lets you know with determination, interrupting you again, "And if you don't tell me why, I'll keep insisting and bothering you until you tell me yes," he says with a slightly amused but determined look on his face.

You look at him slightly confused and surprised, not understanding what is wrong with him, also feeling a mixture of annoyance inside you and curiosity for his persistence.

"It doesn't matter, I'll still keep telling you no," you affirm as a final word to start walking away from him.

However, as soon as you advance a few steps, you feel how someone snatches the folder you are carrying with you quickly and abruptly, which stops you in your tracks. And you turn to him in surprise and confusion.

"Hey!" you protest, puzzled by his action.

"Uh, what do we have here?" he comments with a mischievous grin and a look full of amusement, getting up to turn away from you as he flips through the papers.

"That's none of your business!" you reproach him, running up to him and trying to retrieve your folder.

"Citadel University," he mentions with a tone of interest, running away from your attempts to catch up with him.

"Aemond!" you call, demanding that he give you back what is yours. But he continues to back away and read the sheets at the same time.

"Uh," he comments in concentration as he reads something specific, "This really is bad news."

"That's enough!" you yell at him, completely annoyed and frustrated, finally managing to snatch the folder from his hands and slam it shut.

The tension between the two of you increases as you hold the folder tightly and definitely start to pull away from him.

"No, no, okay, I'm sorry," he stops you instantly, grabbing your arm and stepping in front of you, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—

"Sure, you never meant to," you tell him half-heartedly, trying to dodge him but he won't let you.

"Okay, fine, I was an idiot, I know. But—hey, listen please."

"Are you going to leave me alone or not?" you inquire annoyed, releasing yourself from his grip, watching him expectantly.

He lets out a sigh.

"Y/N—

"I don't have time for this. I have to go."

"But—wait!" he urges you, also on the verge of tears from frustration as you dodge him but he again steps back in front of you, stopping you, "Could you just—listen to me, please."

"No."

"Please!" he insists, "Y/N, I-I... fuck," he lets out a sigh, looking away from yours for a moment, "I'm really sorry," he tells you sincerely, "But let me talk to you. You won't have to do anything but listen to me," he implores, "And after this, if you still want me to stop bothering you and leave you alone, I will."

You watch him completely intently, assessing his words and noting the desperation reflected in his gaze. And even though your mind tells you to forget him and get away from him and this whole situation, something inside you makes you hesitate.

You let out a long, deep breath, telling yourself that you just have to give him a chance to talk and you can finally walk away without feeling remorse.

"Okay, but make it quick," you agree reservedly, keeping your distance.

And even though you're still firm about continuing to tell him no and feel annoyed about earlier, you're curious what he has to say.

"Hum... do you want to sit?"

He points to the table you were sitting at earlier with an awkward and strange gesture. You're about to tell him no but not wanting to argue again, so this will end quickly, you resignedly take a seat and he instantly follows you.

He takes a seat in front of you and you continue with all your belongings in your lap, not trusting to leave them on the table within his reach because of earlier, feeling a knot in your stomach and a slight ache in your chest as you briefly glance at the folder he was snooping through earlier.

"I won't take up too much of your time, I just want to get back to what we were talking about earlier," he tells you softly and with some caution, taking a moment before speaking again, "You want something in return for agreeing to fake the relationship with me?"

You let out a long sigh.

"No, I don't want anything, Aemond. There is nothing I want that you can give me in return," you clarify in a firm tone, "I don't even have the time to do that. I have other important things to take care of instead of.... that."

He exhales, starting to look just as frustrated as you do.

"Like what?" he dares to ask.

"None of your business," you reply immediately.

He looks away from your gaze for a moment, feeling more frustration, swallowing hard and looking hesitant for a moment, but still determined, not wanting this conversation to end before he can try.

"It has to do with the Citadel thing?"

The mention of the college you fought so hard to gain access to makes you feel that sharp pain in your chest again, making your heart flip.

Sadness, disappointment, all those emotions come flooding back just like the first time you read that rejection letter from the college. All your effort, all your performance, was simply not enough for the university to recognize.

The college of your dreams.

"I told you that's none of your business," you act instantly serious and defensive.

"I don't mean to intrude, Y/N—

"That's exactly what you're doing," you point out incredulously.

"You applied for a scholarship and didn't get it, didn't you?" yet you still dare to say, taking a risk, "That's what I read."

"And you shouldn't have," you say firmly, trying to hide the sadness and disappointment his words have triggered in you, "You have no right to go through my personal business."

"I know and I'm sorry, but—

He begins to try to say, but you interrupt him, determined to end the conversation.

"That's what you were going to say?" you tell him, starting to get up with all your things to leave, "If that's all, I'll just go—

"You haven't really let me talk," he interrupts you, insistent, "I can offer you something in return and worth considering to get you to accept the fake relationship with me. But only if you stay and listen to me—

"Oh please, Aemond," you interrupt him in disbelief, sensing the absurdity of the situation, "You know what? Okay, let me hear it," you say with sarcasm in your tone and an expectant look, "Tell me what you could offer me in return that would be worth considering," you add wryly.

"I can help you with your college application," Aemond hastens to say.

Surprise invades everything inside you, listening attentively to his unexpected proposal, definitely not expecting to hear that.

You remain completely silent, just watching him intently, while he gives you a firm and sincere look back. You have no idea what to say, feeling how suddenly your heart starts beating too hard.

"I have connections there, my grandfather and my sister," he lets you know, "I can send them all your information, personal recommendations, all your academic history and have them give you a place with the scholarship you wanted," he tells you and the surprise grows more inside you, "Graduation is near, I can facilitate the whole process for you and I am willing to do it if you help me."

Again, you say nothing.

But the surprise is more than evident on your face.

Their offer, this, really is too much, to the point that your mind starts to be a whirlwind of emotions and you begin to feel distrust, uncertainty and inner conflict.

But on the one hand, his offer is tempting. The idea of getting help from him to get a place in the college you so long for definitely catches your attention, but it also makes you feel a little uncomfortable.

Honestly his words stir something in you, but caution prevails.

The desire to get a place in that university is basically a dream come true, but it clashes with your principles and at the same time you think ahead with lingering doubt whether not accepting was a grave mistake.

Although... are you really able to say no to this? Your dream? To the university that will give you the opportunity to offer a better quality of life for you and your father?

Certainly, Aemond's words are not something you would have believed from anyone else. You would have laughed too hard at the big lie since it is basically impossible to get a place at a high-demand university like Citadel.

But you admit that Aemond Targaryen is not just any person.

Everyone knows that his father owns the most important company in the whole country. And his mother's surname is linked to and owns the influential Hightower banks. The combination of both surnames carries with it a network of influential contacts and connections, so you believe him.

The reality is undeniable; Aemond is exaggeratedly rich, his whole family is, so knowing all this basically gives you to understand that he can undoubtedly secure a place at Citadel University for himself and, apparently, for you as well.

But the hesitation you still feel stops you, still thinking carefully about his proposal.

"So what you want in return is just that?" you ask him wanting to be all clear, "To agree to pretend a relationship with you?"

Your voice reveals a hint of disbelief as you stare at Aemond, waiting for a more detailed explanation. The idea that this all revolves around a farce of a relationship never ceases to generate confusion in you.

The simplicity of his request sounds almost surreal, and makes you question his true intentions.

"I know it sounds ridiculous, but yes, that's all I'm asking, Y/N," he replies without hesitation, his tone serious and direct.

His intense blue eye remains fixed on yours, as you give yourself a small second simply out of curiosity to appreciate his prosthetic left eye up close, an accident as a child or something you heard.

But your mind returns to his request immediately, still feeling the mixture of uncertainty and curiosity. An awkward pause settles between the two of you as you finally break the silence with a doubt-laden sigh.

"But, why me?" you can't help but ask, "I mean, why offer this to me, something really important and big to agree to help you," you explain your point, "I know you said that with me it will be easier but.... there are other girls who could help you with this, or not?"

Aemond adjusts slightly in his seat, sighing as he searches for the right words.

"I misspoke about you at first. It wasn't what I really meant about no one noticing you, you're invisible and all that shit, because it's not true," he tells you softly, "You are different and definitely calmer than other girls who I know will tell me yes without hesitation, but I'm not looking for that, I need someone genuine, someone I can trust to make this work and someone who won't get too excited."

His answer seems sincere, you know he really is sincere, but you still feel the knot in your stomach.

Accepting to help him would mean immersing yourself in a world that you never had any interest in fitting into and that most of the time you've been trying to keep your distance from.

You don't care about having a lot of friends, having followers on social media, being popular, being the prettiest and getting attention from guys. You also wouldn't want to be looked at and given too much attention just for dating Aemond Targaryen, if you accept.

But would you really be proud enough not to accept so you wouldn't have to do all that, letting go of the chance to get into Citadel University?

A shiver runs down your spine as you consider the implications of accepting his proposal and after a brief pause, you let out a sigh and finally nod your head as you swallow hard to speak nervously and with determination.

"All right. Let's do it."

The surprise and disbelief is completely reflected in Aemond's gaze to then quickly rise from his seat and take a couple of steps towards you, completely delusional.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes but don't make me regret it."

And then his whole face transforms, with relief reflecting in his gaze and... strangely, letting go of that worry that has invaded him for days now, also stress along with frustration and a weight on his shoulders.

"Thank you. You don't know how much I appreciated it. And this will be over sooner than you think, I promise."

A wave of uncertainty washes over you as you wonder if you have made the right decision. He seems satisfied with your answer, but deep down a trace of doubt clings in your mind along with the echo of consequences that resonates eerily.

You wonder how others are going to view you seeing you very soon at Aemond's side and whether it will drastically change your school life, which is irrelevant, but in their world, absolutely everything matters.

"So, what's next?" you ask, really unable to believe you've agreed.

Aemond straightens up completely, watching you attentively and with that readiness in his gaze, there is also a certainty that you do not possess, as you actually feel very small before the whole show you will put on together with him and it hasn't even started.

"First of all, a contract."

#aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond one eye #aemond x y/n #modern aemond #modern au

686 notes · View notes

gimmethatagustd · 9 months

Text

delicate | pjm

After months of not talking to each other, Taehyung thinks he can charm his way into your life again. Thankfully, Jimin is there to help you work through your feelings.

○ Pairing: Jimin x f!reader (from Only Here To Sin)

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Established relationship, fluff, smut, pwp

○ Word Count: 3,987

○ Warnings: It's pretty much just porn, OHTS Taehyung strikes again!! he's annoying!!, mentions past sex with Taehyung, references toxic past relationships, consensual sex while under the influence of alcohol (just tipsy), using a tie as a blindfold, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, it's their first time together 🥹, I definitely didn't edit this (as usual, we post when we're done and we never look back)

○ Notes: This can be read as a standalone oneshot, but I recommend reading OHTS to get the full backstory~ and also because it's a disaster of a series, so it's kind of like watching a trainwreck. Don't judge me too much; I had no idea what I was doing when I wrote it. I still have no idea what I'm doing!

○ Post Date: December 16, 2023

○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots

○ What was Jai listening to? Like Crazy - Jimin

You knew going out with Jackie was a mistake. Even more of a mistake was your agreement to go to this nightclub.

“Are you cold?”

Jimin’s arms snake around your waist and draw you against his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder. The light, minty scent of his toothpaste mixes with the floral notes of his cologne. Rather than overwhelm you, the smell grounds you and brings you into the present.

“I’m okay,” you mumble.

Jimin hums. You feel the sound vibrate from his throat against your shoulder and the side of your neck. He’s not convinced, and you know he isn’t.

“Want to go find your friends? I’ll order us drinks.”

You nod and reluctantly detach yourself from Jimin’s embrace. The poor bartender has far too many people crowding the counter. Jimin will have to wait a while; he’s too polite to cut in front of other customers.

The club isn’t big, but it’s packed. You feel like you’re clawing through the bodies swaying to the music with your head on a swivel to find your friends in the crowd. The last time you were at this club, you’d ended up in the bathroom with Taehyung’s fingers shoved inside you.

No. You are not going to think about that.

It has been five months. Five months of detoxing, of neatly packing away the hurt and confusion that Taehyung caused you and storing it in the attic of your mind. You’re a different person now. The person Taehyung manipulated and strung along was no more. And the most important part is that you’ve forgiven the person you used to be. It was too easy to be angry at yourself for your mistakes.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean you weren’t nervous about returning home for summer break. The memories and emotions triggered the moment you pulled into your parents’ driveway were enough to make you feel like throwing up. You’re lucky Jimin got time off from his music apprenticeship in California to visit you, or you may not survive the summer.

Dreary thoughts aside, you’re beginning to feel frustrated with your inability to find Jackie when you feel a warm hand slide into your palm and long fingers intertwine with yours.

“Hey, jagi.”

Despite the loud thrum of music, that smooth voice pierces through you sharply and clearly.

Taehyung’s cheeks shimmer pink with intoxication beneath his honey-toned skin. His hair is longer than when you last saw him. It falls into his eyes, obscuring them in a way that makes his already mystifying gaze all the more intimidating. They nearly glow in the pulsing club lights, sparkling with amusement.

“Miss me?” Taehyung tongues his cheek as his eyes take apart every inch of your body. “You look really good.”

How your stomach flutters with butterflies you’d thought were long gone makes you feel sick. You quickly rip your hand from Taehyung’s. You’d missed him, in the beginning, a little bit, but being with him had hurt you more than leaving him. It took making new friends to realize you’d missed companionship, not Taehyung. Now, you have far healthier friendships.

You can practically hear Alexis’s voice in your head, nagging you about toxic men like Taehyung.

“The worst thing a man can be is aware that he’s hot,” Alexis lectured you the first time you opened up to her about Taehyung. She wasn’t wrong.

“No, I did not.” The steadiness of your voice surprises you, though it shouldn’t. You’ve put in a lot of work to process your fucked up relationship with Taehyung. You can do this.

The smug look on Taehyung’s face doesn’t disappear, but that doesn’t surprise you.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in town, jagi?”

“Why do you even think I would tell you?”

Before you can demand that Taehyung stop calling you by the inappropriate term of endearment, you feel lips brush against your temple.

“I gave up,” Jimin admits with an apologetic smile and empty hands. His eyes take in your crossed arms and rigid stance when you don't speak. With a frown, he follows your gaze to notice Taehyung finally. “Oh, sorry, hi. I’m Jimin, her boyfriend.”

You try to be kind, but you want to punch the smug look off of Taehyung’s face when he offers his hand to Jimin.

“Nice to meet you, Jimin-ssi. I’m Taehyung,” he introduces himself. “Her ex.”

Jimin is too polite for his own good. He shakes Taehyung’s hand with his head cocked to the side. His pink lips scrunch into a sideways pout, and his eyebrows are just as tense. It’s the look he makes while writing his Music Theory essays. (“Music is about feeling, Y/N! Why do I need to write papers about it?”) It isn’t anger or frustration but a struggle to understand.

All you can think about is that Taehyung called himself your ex. After the grief he’d given you for wanting to be more to him than a sexual conquest, it’s unfathomable that he could claim the two of you had dated.

“She’s told me about you,” Jimin finally states. You’re not sure what angle he’s going for. In all honestly, you’d love to melt into the floor and bypass this entire conversation.

“That’s cute.” Taehyung’s eyes twinkle with the sparkles of the disco ball rotating overhead.

“Hmm, I guess, if you think being an asshole is cute.”

You hope your gasp isn’t detectable. Both men continue staring at each other, so it’s hard to tell.

“Do you?” Taehyung grins, and you barely hide your shock when Taehyung blatantly checks Jimin out.

It’s the same predatory look he’s given you in the past that makes your heart flutter and heat blossom between your thighs. You find it odd to see the look directed at someone else, let alone at your boyfriend.

It’s also odd that you feel relieved when Jimin’s cheeks flush pink at the sudden attention. Somehow, Jimin’s reaction is the validation you need to remind yourself that you haven’t made anything up. Taehyung has this uncanny power to capture people’s attention and draw them into his clutches with a simple look. Seeing Jimin affected by Taehyung makes you feel better about falling into his trap. It doesn’t take away all the blame; you take full responsibility for your actions. But it helps knowing someone as strong as Jimin can be flustered by Taehyung, too.

“I do not, actually.” Jimin tightens his hold on your waist. The feeling of his warm hand on your hip keeps you out of your head. Grounded. Jimin always keeps you grounded.

“Unfortunately, that’s all Taehyung knows how to be,” you pipe up. Even if your snappy comment does nothing to remove the smug look on Taehyung’s face, you get satisfaction from voicing your thoughts regardless.

“If I remember correctly, you enjoyed that about me.”

You let out a long sigh. “Tae, what matters is that I’m not enjoying anything about this conversation right now.”

Jimin presses his fingers into your side, gently reminding you he’s there – as if you could ever forget his presence.

“Let’s go, Jimin.” You wrap your pinky around Jimin’s and tug. “I’m sure whoever Taehyung came with is looking for him.”

You don’t wait for a response from either man. You’re over the days of having men tell you what to do.

Two hours later, you’re thoroughly tipsy and stumbling into Jimin’s hotel room with sore feet and the sensation of cotton in your ears from the nightclub’s loud music. Never the type to be out all night, it didn’t take long for you to ask Jimin if you could head back to his hotel room. Although you succeeded in ensuring Taehyung didn’t ruin the night for you, partying isn’t your thing anyway.

Jimin, on the other hand, is still wired. He strips off his shirt and tosses it onto the couch before working on unbuckling his belt.

“What’s the name of that guy Jackie’s dating?” he asks with a huff like he’s out of breath. You watch him tug his belt from the loops and toss it onto the couch.

“Seokjin? Well, he goes by Jin.” Jin and Jackie. They’re an unlikely pair but cute.

“Yes! He’s so funny!” Jimin pushes his jeans down his thighs. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone take that make shots. And you know how my fraternity is.”

Following Jimin’s lead, you shimmy out of your dress. The hotel’s vents are blasting cold air, so you quickly sort through Jimin’s suitcase to find one of his oversized t-shirts and a pair of loose boxers to wear. The two of you have undressed in front of each other before, and you’ve even fooled around while naked, but nothing has ever gone beyond using your hands and mouths to get each other off. Jimin has been unbelievably gentle and kind with your desire to take your relationship slow. You’ve been dating for nearly half a year, and he hasn’t pressured you.

You know it’s basic decency to respect someone’s boundaries, but considering the relationships you’ve had in the past, this is a big deal for you.

Not ready to sleep yet, Jimin sits in the bed and reaches for you with grabby hands and a slight pout. He looks adorable with his fluffy blonde hair. You’re not sure you can deny him anything, honestly.

“We probably should have had more water,” Jimin points out as you climb into his lap. Heat radiates from his bare chest, prompting you to snuggle against his skin to absorb some of that warmth for yourself.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re talking with this cute little slur.”

“I am not!”

Okay, maybe you are, but you’re not drunk. You’re just tipsy enough to feel loose in your limbs, light in your head, and hot in your core. Biting your bottom lip, you shift to straddle Jimin’s lap. The blankets pool around your waist, and Jimin’s hands naturally rest on your bare thighs.

Jimin lets you lift his chin so his head is tilted to look at you.

“Are you okay?” His hold on your hips is light but sturdy.

“I want you.”

Jimin’s eyes flutter closed when your lips brush against his neck. You suck at the soft skin where his jaw meets his throat while you thread your fingers through his blonde waves. When you nestle your fingers into the roots, you gently tug his hair.

A low groan rumbles from Jimin’s chest. His grip on your waist tightens, and the sensation causes your body to shudder.

“Are you sure?” He opens his eyes when you pull back from his neck, but you’re focused on the dark, reddish-purple bruise you’ve left on his skin. “I don’t want you to feel like you need to do anything after running into–”

“No.” Your response is curt, probably sharper than Jimin expects if his widened eyes are anything to go off of. “Taehyung doesn’t have any influence over me anymore, Jimin. This is just me wanting you, okay?”

It’s true; Taehyung has nothing to do with your desire for Jimin. Maybe if he does have some ounce of influence over the situation, it’s only because you feel empowered and emboldened after standing up to him. That, mixed with the alcohol, is giving you a sense of invincibility. It’s confidence that you might lose by the night's end, but you’re willing to ride the wave for as long as you can.

None of this is anything you’ll regret in the morning. If anything, you’ll be thankful for the opportunity to prove to yourself and everyone else that you’re ready to take on the things you’ve once feared.

Accepting your reassurances, Jimin nods. He runs a hand up your spine, stopping at the base of your head to cup your neck.

“Can I just say something first?”

His question makes your stomach flip, but you force yourself to maintain eye contact while you nod. You tend to get nervous with him when you’re intimate. There’s nothing wrong with Jimin; he’s kind and attentive. It’s your bad experiences with sex that make you hesitate. There’s too much pressure to perform well.

“You always get really nervous,” Jimin starts slowly, rubbing his palms up your thighs. “And I was trying to think of a way to help you relax.”

Shame burns your cheeks because you feel like this isn’t something Jimin should have to do. It’s pathetic, isn’t it? Why can’t you handle sex without getting so stressed out over it?

“Okay…” you prompt him to continue, though you aren’t sure if you want him to.

“Would you be willing to try something? I promise if you don’t like it, we can stop.”

If it were anyone else, you’d be scared of Jimin’s question, but you find it relatively easy to agree to whatever plan he has – albeit nervously.

Careful not to jostle you too much, Jimin maneuvers you off his lap and goes to his suitcase. It takes a few seconds for him to find what he’s looking for, but when he faces you again, you feel your heart flutter.

In Jimin’s hands is a silk black tie, which he keeps for special occasions – such as the dinner he attended with you and your parents when he first arrived in your hometown for the summer. It looks good on him, especially when he loosens it and lets it hang haphazardly around his neck.

Despite your limited sexual experience, it’s clear that he won’t be the one wearing it tonight. Approaching the bed, Jimin instructs you to sit back with your legs spread so he can kneel between them.

“You trust me?” he whispers. When you nod, he reaches behind your head to secure the tie so that it covers your eyes. “Let me know if it’s uncomfortable, and I can redo it.”

“It feels okay.” Strange, but okay.

You can’t see anything, so you keep your eyes closed. Rather than become even more nervous about the unknown of the darkness, you find that it’s actually relaxing. So often, you let negative thoughts ruin intimacy with Jimin, preventing you from moving forward in your relationship. Somehow, being blindfolded empties your mind until all you can think about is how you imagine what Jimin looks like while he touches you.

You let Jimin guide you to lie flat on your back. With your most prominent sense taken away, you focus on your others to tell you what’s happening. Jimin is slow as he slips his hands beneath the hem of your shirt to push it up your torso.

“Can I take this off?” His breath is hot against the side of your neck, and you feel the bed shift when he hovers above you.

“Yes,” you reply, barely above a breathy whisper.

Once Jimin has removed your shirt, his body heat disappears. You don’t panic, but you feel lost without his touches there to ground you. That is, until you feel something wet flick across your nipple.

“Oh, god,” you moan when Jimin wraps his lips around your nipple and gently sucks.

His tongue is hot and sloppy as it swirls around the bud until it’s perky and hard. Satisfied with his work, Jimin attaches his plush lips to your other nipple and repeats the same action.

You arch your back, pushing against his mouth. Jimin wraps his arms around your waist to press his palm to the small of your back, further pulling you into him. The darkness heightens your sense of touch, making each hot swipe of Jimin’s tongue and the graze of his teeth against your skin even more tantalizing. Your pussy throbs with how wet and hot you’re growing just from this alone.

“Jimin,” you whimper.

His fingers hook around the edge of your borrowed boxers. “Can I take these off, too?”

You nod your head quickly and lift your hips to make it easier for Jimin to pull his boxers off of you.

“So pretty…”

You let out a high moan when you feel the pads of Jimin’s fingers brush against your entrance. He gathers your arousal and smears it over your lips and clit. You can hear the squelch the wetness makes when he dips his fingers inside of you just enough to gather more of the sticky mess. Your wet skin goes cold, and you can tell Jimin has blown air on you.

“I’m going to eat you out, okay?” Jimin punctuates his question with a tiny flick of his tongue against your pussy.

“Please, fuck, please,” you want to cry and try to push your hips against where you think his face is, but his hands hold your hips down.

“I will, I will.”

Jimin laughs, airy and gentle, before pushing his tongue further between your lips to flick your clit. He repeatedly sucks on your clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive skin while his lips envelop you.

Your skin is blazing from the heat of his heavy breathing and how his touch makes you burn. Every suck of your clit makes you gush between your thighs. You can imagine Jimin staring up at you with dark eyes as he eats you out, humming into your pussy with satisfaction.

You arch into his face when you feel pressure at your entrance again, and Jimin slips two fingers into your pussy. He thrusts them in and out, hooking them to press his fingers against your front wall to find the spot he knows so well that makes you squirm.

“Fuck,” he groans into your dripping pussy. Turning his head to the side, Jimin brushes his mouth against the inside of your thigh. His lips are soaked and sticky.

You rock against his hand as he fingers you, letting out little “ah ah ah’s” with each thrust against your front wall. You feel like you’re on fire, like every breath will ignite your body, make you combust.

“Please, Jimin, please.” You never thought you’d be the type to beg, but you’re so desperate to cum that it’s embarrassing. “I’m going fucking crazy, please.”

You try not to compare Jimin to Taehyung; you really try. But it’s hard not to, especially when Jimin gives you the best head you’ve ever had. Foreplay has never lasted this long before. You can’t tell if it’s a blessing or a curse.

“Ready for me?” It’s both hard to hear and so fucking hot when Jimin asks the question into your pussy.

It’s disorienting when Jimin uses his clean hand to pull his tie off your face. You blink a few times to adjust to the light, belatedly realizing neither of you ever turned it off. While some people like intimacy in the dark, you and Jimin always keep the lights on. It’s nice to look at it other; it feels more intimate.

You switch positions, allowing Jimin to sit against the headboard and have you straddle his lap like you were before.

“Ride me first, okay?” Jimin whispers in your ear when he takes your arms and wraps them around his shoulders. “I want to see your face when you take my cock for the first time.”

Your pussy flutters, and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to survive taking his cock if his words are enough to create a reaction in you that makes your knees weak.

“Oh, oh,” you whimper as Jimin sits against the bedframe. “Okay.”

“Look at me.”

And you do. You stare into those narrowed, sultry eyes as you line his cock with your entrance, one hand squeezing his shoulder to help you lean at the correct angle. The stretch is quite easy despite your previous concerns about taking Jimin fully. It should have been obvious; you’re so drenched that you slide down on his cock so smoothly that you want to fucking die.

You know what you’re doing, having had plenty of experience riding Taehyung in the past. It’s different this time, of course. Jimin never takes his eyes off yours as you bounce on his cock. His hands squeeze your hips to guide you up and down his cock, encouraging you to lift until only the head of his cock is nestled in your pussy before sliding back down his entire length. You’re so wet that Jimin’s thighs glisten with your arousal, as do yours.

“You’re gorgeous,” Jimin says with a soft smile.

“Oh my god,” you squeeze his shoulders as you rock against him, “You’re, you’re cuter.”

“Whatever you say, baby.” Jimin rolls his eyes and presses a kiss to your forehead.

He’s so cute, even as your pussy sucks in his cock and clenches around it. How is it possible for him to seem so innocent in a moment like this? It makes your heart swell with a love you’re worried you’ll never be able to fully articulate to the precious boy beneath you.

“Feels good,” you moan against his mouth when you lean forward to kiss him. “I’m gonna cum already.”

Jimin sucks your bottom lip at the same time he slips his hand between your bodies to start rubbing your clit. The two points of pleasure cause you to slump forward, but luckily, Jimin takes over. He thrusts into with swift, strong movements, never stuttering even when you can tell that he’s nearing his orgasm, as well.

There’s no shame in not lasting very long. You’re both a little bit drunk and extremely horny. The buildup to this moment is almost a climax all on its own. Neither of you can be blamed for how frantically you claw at each other and do your best to grind against each other’s bodies as hard and fast as you can.

“Come on, baby,” Jimin groans into the crook of your neck as he fucks you. “We can cum together, okay? Let go for me so we can make each other feel good.”

“Oh, Jimin, y-yes, fuck, okay.” You nod your head and pant your words against the curve of his ear. Needing something to hold onto, you dig your fingers into Jimin’s hair.

Jimin always knows the right things to say and finds a way to ease your stress and ground you. He talks you through your orgasm and holds you close as you cum. It’s erotic, but it feels gentle and intimate. Rather than dirty talk, it feels sweeter and more caring.

Even when Jimin finds his release, coming in you with a brutal grip on your waist, he whispers soft words of gratitude because he sees fucking you as a privilege – not a challenge to be won.

When it’s over, you melt into Jimin’s embrace, chest to chest, with your head resting against his shoulder. You’re both sweaty and sticky, but it doesn’t matter. All you want to do is be close and be held.

“How are you doing?”

You nod, unable to find the words to express how utterly content you feel. Not just content – you feel cared for, even when all you’ve done is fuck. It’s different with Jimin. It’s gentle. It means something.

“Did the tie help?” he asks, curious and wanting to have done a good job coloring his tone. It’s sweet, just like all of Jimin.

“It did,” you finally speak up. Turning your head to the side, you press your lips against Jimin’s neck and speak to his warm skin. “It helped me get out of my head, so all I focused on was you and how you made me feel.”

“Good?”

You smile with your eyes closed when you feel him kiss your forehead. “You always make me feel good.”

Jimin squeezes you in his arms, content with humming a happy reply against the top of your head. No other words need to be said; for now, the two of you bask in the warmth you bring each other and know that whatever the morning brings, you’ll always have safe arms to fall back into.

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories.

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.

#bts fanfic #jimin x reader #bts x reader #jimin fanfic #jimin smut #jimin fluff #bts fluff #bts smut #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #delicate #only here to sin

464 notes · View notes