#but you can hardly see it in the final piece
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alt3rnata · 13 hours ago
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Going to answer them all :)
How many fics have you worked on since January? 
11 not including translations. 
2. What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year? 
Everything. This is the first time I've written anything this year since I tried to write a Dragon Age Origins fic in school (that was a long time ago). 
3. What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.) 
Xenoblade Chronicles 3. God bless Monolith studio.
4. How many fandoms did you write for this year? 
Two. The second one is a micro fandom around some black metal band albums I listened accidentally, but that was fun.  
5. What ships captured your heart? 
Oleg/Ashera (XC3) is the main one, which is funny because in my head it has nothing to do with True Love Till Death. 
6. What characters captured your heart? 
Oleg (Teach) from XC3, James Sunderland from Silent Hill 2, Lann from Pathfinders WOTR.
7. Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year? 
Yeah, see question 2. 
8. What fic meant the most to you to write? 
“Slayer and the Beast” because it was the first, and I wrote it with the best intentions, without putting anything dark into it, as I sometimes like to do.
9. What fic made you feel the happiest to work on? 
This one isn’t published yet. It’s working title is "The Element of Chaos" and it’s XC3 post-canon. 
10. What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing? 
“What You Deserve” because I had to keep some quite violent details in my head, and I was glad to finally let them go. But in the process I learned a lot of new things. Hardly anyone can guess how much is put into this text.
11. What fic was the most difficult to write? 
“The Glitch” because it was a self-challenge and I had to fully rewrite that bitch 5 or 6 times, I don’t remember… But I had some fun there as a game developer writing fic about XC3 as a game.
12. What fic was the easiest to write? 
“Intersecting Lines”. I made it to relax (and now it's my work with the most kudos). 
13. What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year? 
“Slayer and the Beast” is the longest and “Intersecting Lines” is the shortest. I tried to express my thoughts briefly and throw out everything unnecessary. Although sometimes this leads to me presenting events too truncated. 
14. What were your go-to writing songs? 
Esoterica’s “In Dreams” and Guilt Machine’s “On this perfect day” whole albums. 
15. What was the hardest fic to title? 
“It's a small world. It's a vast world.” Still not sure if it’s good. 
16. What's your favorite title of the year? 
“Slayer and the Beast”, proud of it. 
17. Share your favorite opening line 
“At first, everything is dark. It is silent, the only sound you can hear is the ticking of a clock. Then the sound of footsteps becomes audible, getting closer. A key turns in the lock. And suddenly the darkness is cut by a narrow strip of bright light, and then it grows into a rectangle as the man outside opens the door and steps inside. He closes the door behind him and flicks the switch. Let there be light.”
— "The Element of Chaos" 
18. Share your favorite ending line 
“Say hi to Rex and A. Someday we will all meet again, if you weren’t kidding... But now I have to go home. I think boys are already making breakfast.”   She gets out of the water, picks up her stuff, and takes one last look at the horizon. Then she walks barefoot down the path, humming to herself, until she disappears from sight.  In the very heart of Origin, all three hear that distant greeting. A is the one who smiles. 
— “The Glitch” 
19. Share your favorite piece of dialogue 
He loosened the noose. Ashera took a shuddering breath and coughed.    “Was it enough like me? Did you have your fun?” he asked. His own voice sounded hoarse.    “I would rate this nine out of ten,” Ashera answered when she finally caught her breath and was able to speak. Not what he expected to hear from a person he had just nearly killed. 
— “Slayer and the Beast” 
20. Share your funniest line 
Well, I have a weird concept of ‘funny’. 
“But Oleg no longer had hundreds of years of life in store for him, only a measly 150 years at most. He remembered well the feeling that had appeared immediately after the Intersection, as if time had suddenly sped up. For those races that had previously had a longer lifespan and had grown up with this knowledge, the worry that they would not have enough time for anything had become commonplace. Against this background, the carefree way in which the short-lived races of both worlds, whose lives had, on the contrary, lengthened on average, spent their time, even caused some envy.” 
— "The Element of Chaos" 
21. What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story? 
Every time when the characters just do something I did not intend for them and the story takes an unexpected turn. 
22. What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand? 
I use MS Word + I write by hand some notes, plans, timelines, etc. 
23. If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year? 
I have one piece of writing that I can reread without thinking that "I could have done it better, but my skills weren't good enough." It's very satisfying.
24. Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic? 
Just re-reading it and looking at stats. 
25. How did you recharge between fics? 
I don't need to recharge, it is my leisure. I'm constantly reading other people's work, fiction and non-fiction, and I have a life to gain new impressions. 
26. Did you create fanworks other than fic? 
Nope. 
27. How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!) 
Hmm, Kinktober 2024, I guess. 
28. If this were an awards show, who would you thank? 
My audience of me, myself and I. And that one reader who left so good, thoughtful comments under “The Glitch” and appreciated my silly tech jokes and weird ideas. This made me feel that my work was worthwhile. 
29. What's left on your to-do list for 2024? 
I don’t have a plan, actually, things will be done when I have time. 
30. What would you like to write next year? 
I wish to work more on non-romantic and original things or AUs to practice working on storylines. Because I often find myself making up a storyline around a romantic line and fitting the events to it, rather than thinking them through as something independent. Of course, that doesn't mean inspiration won't take me in a completely different direction. 
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A slightly revised version of last year's questions! Two ways to play: Reblog and have your followers send you numbers, or answer the whole list!
How many fics have you worked on since January?
What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?
What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)
How many fandoms did you write for this year?
What ships captured your heart?
What characters captured your heart?
Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?
What fic meant the most to you to write?
What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?
What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?
What fic was the most difficult to write?
What fic was the easiest to write?
What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?
What were your go-to writing songs?
What was the hardest fic to title?
What's your favorite title of the year?
Share your favorite opening line
Share your favorite ending line
Share your favorite piece of dialogue
Share your funniest line
What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?
What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?
If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?
Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?
How did you recharge between fics?
Did you create fanworks other than fic?
How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)
If this were an awards show, who would you thank?
What's left on your to-do list for 2024?
What would you like to write next year?
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i9messi · 2 days ago
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can you do an ollie bearman comfort fic?? Maybe reader is stressed and overwhelmed by uni or smth else you do whatever you want with that
Peace — Ollie Bearman
Focusing too much on your finals had made you feel anxious, so your boyfriend Ollie comes to your bedroom to help.
Word count — 1,3k
note: ollie calling baby to reader makes me feel things. feedback and reblogs are appreciated!
MASTERLIST
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The smell of candles made the room smell incredibly good, but nothing was useful to calm your own destructive thoughts. You were very close to a final exam and the anxiety made you feel like the worst. You could hardly sleep well and rest as you deserved.
You had cancelled your dates with your boyfriend and your meetings with your friends. Your final was important and you were too focused on it. Who cared if you were nice, if you failed your finals?
You didn’t totally believe in fate or good vibes. Yes, you could trust that fate would be on your side and manifesting a passing grade might be important, but it was also important to study until your eyes were tired and you fell asleep with pure tiredness. As extreme as it sounds.
Your phone started ringing and that made you lose focus from the screen. You read the name on your cell phone, it was your boyfriend, Ollie. Knowing it was perhaps important, you answered the call before it rang a second time.
“Ollie? Something happened?”
“Hi, baby. I just missed hearing your voice.”
You smiled. Lately you were being a little mean with him, canceling your plans and dates with him. His voice brought a moment of peace when you needed it most. Ollie gave you peace.
“I also missed hearing your voice but I’m studying, I have a final.”
“Stress about Uni won’t do you any good, baby.”
You knew it, you also knew your boyfriend wanted the best for you.
“Ollie, I have to keep studying. Can we talk later?”
“When will I see you again? I miss you badly.”
“I don’t know. I miss you too."
“Okay. Call me if you need anything.”
When the call ended, you continued studying. Time passed, that same night you fell asleep on your desk and woke up with an incredible neck pain. Sometimes it was most useful for you to study at night, so it was barely seven pm when you locked yourself back in your room to study. Your roomie was in her room getting ready to party.
You heard the bell ring. You assumed it was a visit for your roommate. A couple of seconds later, you heard footsteps and a noise in the door. You got up and came to see who it was.
Right there was Ollie, with a teddy bear in his arms.
“Ollie, what are you doing here?”
“Oh, Ollie, I'm so happy to see you.” He joked, a little sarcastically.
“I love seeing you, really. I just didn’t know you were coming. Come on in.”
He came into your room and you realized it was a mess. The only thing that was tidy was your bed, since you had not spent the night sleeping peacefully on the mattress. Your desk was a combination of Red Bulls, empty coffee cups and snacks that was useful to you to keep you awake. The rest were books, notes and sheets of paper with the content you had to study for the exam.
“You need to take this easy.”
“I know, but you know me and you know I become a little too obsessive when I'm studying.”
He grabbed your hand and led you to bed, where he sat you on his lap.
“Listen to me, baby.”
“I listen, Ollie.”
“I know you’re a good student and you will get a good grade, but you have to remember that it’s just an exam. You are much more than a number on a piece of paper, you are more than what your professor thinks you are worth. I know how hard you work for your goals and how brave you are. So, please, at least for a few hours forget about your final and stay with me.”
“Ollie…”
“I brought you a bear.”
He offered the teddy bear to you. You grabbed it, it was brown and adorable. It wasn't the first bear your boyfriend gave you, nor would it be the last. Ollie loved to give you bears of all colors available and types, in your room you had a lot of them.
“Thank you, it's so cute. Cute like you.”
Ollie smiled and you grabbed the bear, it smelled like your boyfriend.
“Can we just lie down in your bed and cuddle?”
His brown eyes looked at you. You couldn’t say no, not when your body was so tired and you had missed him so much during those days when you barely talked.
“You don't need to ask, yes.”
And you did, you laid on bed and he hugged you from behind. You also hugged the teddy bear.
“Tell me what’s bothering you.” He muttered in your ear.
“I guess I’m just scared to forget some important information and go blank.”
“That’s not gonna happen.”
“What if it happens?”
“I don’t think your professor is a ruthless being who feeds on the blood of the innocent.”
You laughed.
“You should see how he gets when someone says a wrong answer, sometimes he scares me. I swear he gets more and more bold every class, all because of his poor nerves.”
“You will pass your final, silly.”
You turned, getting face to face with your boyfriend. You saw him so close and you came closer up to his mouth and left a sweet kiss on his lips. Ollie smiled in the middle of the kiss.
“We could watch an episode of Glee. I know you're watching it.”
“Uhmm, interesting proposal. I accept.”
With a smile on your face, you took your laptop and searched until you chose the episode you wanted. You put the computer in a comfortable place, where you and Ollie could see it quietly.
“Baby?”
“Yes?”
“I love you and I don’t want you to think for a second that you’re alone in this. I’ll be here whenever you need me. If you need someone to talk with, someone to watch tv shows or even someone to cuddle after studying. I'm here, always.”
You couldn’t stop yourself and kissed his lips. Ollie put a hand on your cheek.
“I love you so much.”
The episode of the show continued, you were so excited to be with your boyfriend that you forgot for a second the pressure of the exam. With Ollie by your side, caressing your hair and leaving kisses on your forehead was enough to be at peace.
“Go bathe and I’ll bring you food.” he suggested, once the episode was over.
“Are you saying I smell?”
Ollie just laughed.
“I’m not implying anything.”
“Fine, I’m gonna go take a bath.”
You went to your bathroom, while your boyfriend left the bedroom to cook something fast. The shower served to relax you, the pressure that you had on your shoulders felt much lighter. You put on your favorite pajamas and left the bathroom, where you found Ollie in the kitchen finishing up his food.
“Your roomie has already left, she said please don’t forget to water the plants.”
“Okay, alright.”
He brought the food onto the table, “I made pasta.”
“Smells incredible.”
Both ate in silence, something you liked about your boyfriend was that he respected the moments when you didn’t want to talk too much. Now that you were in a period full of exams, your mind was too busy to want to talk a lot. With the right words, you and Ollie dined in peace.
When you finished eating, Ollie stood up and put everything in place. Your eyes suddenly closed with exhaustion.
“Let’s go to sleep.”
You walked to your bedroom and you went to bed, repeating the same sequence of before. Ollie hugged you from behind and you hugged the teddy bear he gave you.
“Get some rest, you deserve it.”
“I feel like my mind is going to keep solving exercises while sleeping.”
“We can study tomorrow morning, I’ll help you.”
Knowing him, you knew he would keep his promise.
“I’m glad you’re here, Ollie. I was so stressed— I love you.”
“And I love you, baby. You're not alone in anything.”
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breed-the-stars · 2 days ago
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Part 1
> Attempt to convince them to touch you in riskier locations.
You join your alien owner in the common area, sitting next to them on the equally foreign, but at least exceptionally comfortable, piece of furniture.
They coo happily at your presence, running the tips of a limb over your head. It doesn't take much to convince them to pet the curve of your neck, a deep sigh escaping you.
But it's not enough.
Swiftly you manage to expose your bare chest to them, hinting towards them to go lower. Your master hardly blinks an eye; they know from their research that humans remove their clothing to help regulate body temperature, and also when they're comfortable around others.
And they're happy to indulge you.
You can't help yourself from moaning at the touch, your alien owner catching on and applying more pressure, massaging the sensitive skin.
Just a little lower...
Taking their limb into your hands, you nudge it down, their touch meeting your abdomen.
Luckily, they haven't pulled away.
It takes conscious effort to steady your breathing, fully knowing what you're about to try.
You guide their touch lower, towards the cavern you're so desperate for them to fill.
The alien pauses.
For a moment they wonder if you're ill in some way, and trying to communicate the location of your pain. They never specialized in xenobiology, so any medical care would require taking you to see someone else.
But they've heard the tales; humans are clever, and fairly good at communicating their needs.
Perhaps their pet seeks stimulation in the presented area, an area not necessarily in pain.
You finally get your wish, feeling their digits toying with your opening, kneading into the surrounding skin. Your human hips grind fervently into their touch, the foreign textures delighting you in ways your hands never could. It's impossible to stop the sudden squeal when you feel their extremities dip inside.
Something you hadn't known until now.. is that the species of your alien master is keenly sensitive to the smells of a human who's willing to breed.
Usually, their species uses this knowledge to ensure animosity between two or more humans from differing bloodlines. It can be so challenging to keep humans content around other humans at times, that's why it's advantageous to consider compatible breeding partners for your human.
But there are no other humans here. It's just the two of you.
It's not unheard of for an alien and human to mate, but...
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desperateknot · 16 hours ago
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Swap Ishqueg/LCB Queequeg AU.
Dieci Assoc. South Section 4 Queequeg uptie story:
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The child sits a bit too close to her friend, but it's not enough to look too suspicious. She quietly places a tiny piece of a sponge cake on the friend's tight, and, without a wasted movement, the said friend puts it in her mouth. Her eyes are still pinned on the last few pages of the 20th Volume of Ancient Civilizations and their various Codes of Law.
That other child is supposedly way more of a stickler for the rules. It's not like she would snitch her colleague to the head librarian, but sneakily snacking with her is a bit out of character.
That said, existing between them is a tacit understanding and a trust that is much needed in the suffocating academic atmosphere.
In other words, if snacking with Rodya makes her happy, Queequeg would gladly do it.
Gradually, she, who used to believe she would spend her entire life delivering unreasonably cruel punishments for violating even more unreasonable laws, has learned to be more flexible. After all, the 20th Volume is about clemency and amnesty.
Perhaps, there would be a day when she, too, would be pardoned.
For now Queequeg is thankful that Rodya finally brought something that they could eat discreetly, and not…cookies, like the first time they met.
The child with flaxen hair, who has been a part of the Dieci Association ever since she was a little kid, was the first member outside of the Director to approach Queequeg.
It's hardly anyone's fault that she was shunned. The tattoos on her body are only partially covered in the Association's uniform, and her reticence didn't make her appear more friendly either.
Although, to be frank, at that point, that child only wanted to be left alone.
Rodion: Hey, eat this. Just put it in your mouth and chew. No need to thank me.
The child ignores her colleague and continues reading the borrowed book — Ancient Civilizations and their various Codes of Law Vol. 1, more confused than annoyed at her advances.
Rodion: Hello? Hey…I know you can hear me.
That child whispered, but that was way too loud for Queequeg, who thought they were starting to attract unwanted attention.
Queequeg: Shhh. Reading.
Rodion, disheartened to see her efforts for naught, sighed very deeply before breaking the cookies on her hand into two, and threw one half inside her mouth.
The course of actions utterly baffled the other child, who only then noticed the choice for her colleague's discreet snacking were very crunchy cookies of all things.
The sound of Rodion’s chewing grinds Queequeg's ears. She wanted to flee to the other side of the table to act as if she had nothing to do with this, but she was already sitting on one end of the table, and Rodion was physically blocking her way in the other direction.
As though Rodion realised the frantic look on Queequeg's face, she exasperatedly assured her.
Rodion: Come now. No one noticed.
Queequeg: At least. Softer food. Crunchy food. Loud chewing.
Rodion: Not as loud as your stomach growling, though.
It was indeed true that the child had been avoiding the canteen out of the fear of being gawked at by other people — as if she was some kind of rare specimen, but she wasn't so hungry that her stomach would growl.
She wanted to retort, but right at that moment, her stomach made an ungodly sound. Queequeg embarrassedly looked up to see her colleague handing her the other half of the cookie, which she felt she had no choice but to take.
Rodion: Hey. I know this might look like it's easier than your last job, just reading and all…But if you don't eat properly, you are going to faint all the same.
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Hostile kid: We don't have anything to pay you with!
Throwing the unconscious body of the Syndicate's member aside, Queequeg takes a bit of time to comprehend what that small child is saying. A bit of her knowledge was depleted during the fight, but surely not that much?
Scared kid: Sister…can we go now?
It finally clicks.
The child half-bends her knees and extends her hand to the orphans’ place, as if planning to pat them, but she thinks better of it and withdraws her blood stained hand half-way.
Queequeg: No. No need payment. Just wanted to help.
The older girl's eyebrows ease, but she's still very much on guard, while the younger one still hides behind her sister's back. The child unconsciously adjusts her glasses in a certain bashfulness, feeling guilty that she terrified the kids so much.
The tense awkwardness formed gradually broke by an untimely stomach growling from the girls’ direction. The red flush on Queequeg's cheeks immediately switches to the orphans’.
Queequeg: Hungry?
The younger girl, somehow already stepped out from behind her older sister's shadow, nods before the other could stop her.
The Fixer of the Dieci Association can't hide her gentle smile. Still a bit too disgusted at herself to pat the children, but she is confident enough to signal them to follow her.
Queequeg: With me. Food over there. Good friend over there.
Dieci Assoc. South Section 4 Queequeg voicelines:
Gaccha: Shh. Reading.
Uptie: Get it. Finally. 
Reasoning:
Queequeg would probably be quite good at reading, memorising, and learning (theories) since she had to learn the Book of Vengeance during her Middle's days.
She is seeking atonement, and where better to seek it than the "Charity Association"? They also raised children on the streets, and Queequeg is presumably good with children because she had a lot of "siblings." 
Also, in between Moby Dick's Queequeg left his home in search of Christianity only to be disappointed, The Little Mermaid's effort (Queequeg's other source material) to attain an immortal soul has some religious subtext, and also the Middle calling themselves a family while following strictly a decree from a book...it gives Queequeg a bit of...Christianity themes, strangely enough. And Dieci Association has exactly that.
Also, that is an excuse to give her glasses.
Personal notes:
I know it has been like a month since I promised to finish this. You can see that this one isn't really good and I really had to drag my ass to get it done.
Anyway, I had a few different ideas for Queequeg's study field, ranging from Marine Biology, Religion, Neurology, Psychology, Anatomy, to Law. I think Law fits her the most from what I planned for her (themes of retribution and atonement) and this uptie story. It also fits with the Middle and the Laws of the Great Lake.
Also, shout out to Rodya for picking chips as a secret snack of choice in the library. Just check Dieci Rodya uptie story.
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sashimew-the-cat · 11 months ago
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Self indulgent marching band raph! One verson with and without his mask (Click for better quality)
If the others were also in marching band, I think Mikey would play trombone, Leo clarinet, Casey would march tenors, and Donnie or April would play sousaphone or flute though I’m not sure who would play what
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punkshort · 8 months ago
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Have A Good Night
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Every week like clockwork, the same devastatingly handsome man comes into the grocery store where you work to buy flowers. It's not until he asks you out when you realize the flowers aren't for his wife or girlfriend.
Warnings: no outbreak AU, language, flirting, alcohol and food consumption, smut (18+ MDNI), protected piv sex, size kink, shy!joel, fluff, mutual pining, cringy/embarrassing crush interactions
WC: 7.9K
Written for @morallyinept's Flora & Fauna Challenge (masterlist here)
dividers by the one and only @saradika-graphics
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It was never roses that he bought. That should have been your first clue.
Every Friday he came through your checkout lane with a beautiful flower arrangement. Sometimes it was lilies, sometimes it was daffodils, but never roses.
He hardly spared you a glance when he slid his card through the machine. Occasionally he would comment about the weather or how busy the store was, but he rarely ever made eye contact.
It wasn't unusual and it didn't offend you. Most customers had other things on their minds and they preferred to get in and out of the store as quickly as possible. But this particular customer, the one with dark hair and eyes, broad shoulders and patchy beard always caught your eye. It was the best part of your week. You never had the nerve to say anything to him, but your friend Andy noticed the way you always got nervous when you saw him standing in line, how your demeanor shifted and your hands shook just a little bit.
He's not wearing a ring, Andy pointed out one day as you counted your drawer. You rolled your eyes.
That doesn't mean anything, you replied. Why else would he be buying flowers?
Then one day, as you scanned your handsome stranger's flowers, you noticed a few of the daisies were wilting.
"Do you want to pick out a different bouquet?" you had mustered up the courage to ask. The store was quiet, no one was lined up behind him. There was a big football game that night and it kept most people at home.
His eyes snapped up to yours and he froze like a deer in the headlights. You raised your eyebrows, waiting for an answer while trying to think if you said something stupid to warrant such a delayed reaction. "A few of these flowers are already dying. See?" You tilted the bouquet in his direction so he could see the flowers with the petals that were turning brown.
"Oh," he finally said, then nodded his head. "Y-yeah, thanks. D'you mind if I just-" he jutted his thumb over his shoulder.
"It's no big deal, I'll wait."
He gave you a crooked grin and disappeared back into the store. The florist department wasn't far from the registers but it was enough time for Andy to lock eyes with you from customer service and give you a look. You rolled your eyes at him and turned back around just as the hot flower guy was returning with a new selection.
"Thanks," he said again once you handed him his receipt. He didn't make a move to leave.
"Don't mention it," you replied, feeling Andy's stupid grin burning into the back of your head the longer hot flower guy stood there.
"Have you worked here long?" he asked after a brief silence that was bordering on uncomfortable. You blinked, taken aback at the random question and tried to ignore your heart fluttering excitedly in your chest.
"Um, just over four years," you replied. His beautiful dark eyes drifted over your face as he nodded and swallowed before looking back down at his flowers.
"You work most Fridays?"
You could feel your cheeks warming up and you wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole. How can someone be embarrassed for being embarrassed? Jesus, you were such a mess.
"Yep," you said, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear and praying he didn't notice how flushed you were.
He rubbed the back of his neck and shifted his weight. If you weren't so absorbed in your own uneasiness you might have noticed he was acting just as uncomfortable as you.
When he opened his mouth to say something else, a middle aged woman pushed her cart up behind him and began to unload her groceries onto the belt. He glanced quickly over his shoulder and nervously swiped his palm over his mouth.
"Have a good night," he told you abruptly, and before you had a chance to reply he was halfway to the front door.
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The following week was busier and you lost track of time. Typically, as your shift dragged on, you began to anticipate his arrival but on that particular day, you were distracted. Andy ended up having to help out on another register, it was so busy.
"You wanna come out with us tonight?" Andy asked you over his shoulder. He was closing down the extra register while you were finishing up with a young mom who had her hands full wrangling her toddler away from the candy.
"Uh, yeah, sure," you agreed absentmindedly, lifting the last paper bag into the cart. You tapped a key on your register so she could slide her card through the reader and looked over at Andy. "Where are you guys going?"
"Murray's," he replied immediately, his focus still on counting the coins in the drawer. You rolled your eyes and grinned.
"Why am I not surprised?"
It was well known Andy harbored a huge crush on a bartender there and he had been trying to work up the courage for months to ask for her number.
"Thank you, have a good night," you told the young woman, handing over her receipt with a smile. When you glanced up to greet your next customer, you felt your heart skip a beat when you were met with those dark brown eyes you had grown so enamored with.
"It must be later than I thought," you said, without even thinking twice. Surprise passed over his beautiful features as you scanned his flowers and then your nerves finally caught up with you. "I-I mean, you usually come in around the same time every week," you explained hurriedly. Andy was smirking at you from behind hot flower guy's broad shoulder and you made a mental note to punch him later.
"I didn't realize you noticed," he replied after he cleared his throat.
Oh, you idiot. You could tell you made him uncomfortable with your comment and you just prayed he didn't figure out you had been lusting after him all these months with the little observation you made.
"You always pick out the best flower arrangements, it's hard not to," Andy piped up. Relief flooded your veins for the save. Maybe you should rethink that punch. "Must be one lucky girl," he added with a mischievous wink in your direction before picking up the drawer and walking towards the office, leaving just the two of you with Andy's loaded comment hanging heavy in the air.
He took his time pulling his credit card out of his wallet, wracking his brain for something to say. His cheeks dusted with pink the longer he took to formulate a sentence.
"So... Murray's, huh?" he asked, cringing inwardly at the stupid question as he swiped his card.
You blinked, confused at the change in topic until it clicked. "Oh, yeah. He drags a bunch of us out after work sometimes because he's got a thing for a girl who works there." You gave the man behind hot flower guy a smile as he unloaded his groceries on the belt.
Your handsome stranger froze, his hand still holding the receipt midair while the gears turned in his head.
"So, you two aren't-"
"Oh, sorry, excuse me," the customer behind him mumbled when he accidentally bumped into him with his cart.
"Have a good night," you told him with a sweet smile, then quickly turned away, hoping your hair would hide your embarrassment.
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"I am not playing darts with her! Don't you remember last time? She almost took my eye out!"
"Oh, shut the fuck up!" you laughed, shoving Courtney, another co-worker of yours, in the shoulder. There were only five of you that night, Courtney being the only other girl in your group, but you were fine with that. Over the past few years you all bonded over the shared trauma of nasty customers and terrible management to the point where you were like family, and nights where you blew off steam only brought you closer together.
"Anyone need anything? I'm heading up," Andy shouted over the live band.
"Didn't you just get a water a minute ago?" you teased, knowing full well he was looking for an excuse to talk to the bartender.
"What can I say? I'm thirsty," Andy replied with a smirk before pushing his way through the crowd to get to the bar.
"When the hell's he just gonna ask her out? We've been coming here for months," Courtney said, turning away from the bar to look at you. You took a sip from your mixed drink and shrugged.
"Probably for the best. You know if he makes things weird then we'll need to find a new spot to hang out."
She giggled and winced when the band began to sing Journey off-key. "God, these guys are... not it."
"I think it's the owner's way of making us drink more!" James shouted from across the table, the four of you dissolving into laughter. He had a good point because your drink was nearly empty.
"Why didn't you just have Andy get you one?" Courtney asked when you slid down from your barstool.
"If I did, there was, like, a one percent chance he would bring it back to me within the hour," you told her, nodding towards Andy setting up shop against the bar, his eyes trailing after the cute bartender.
It took several minutes but you were finally able to wedge yourself between other patrons and secure a refill of your drink, but when you turned around to walk back to your table you nearly ran right into someone's chest.
"Oh! Sorry, I - " your eyes widened when you tilted your head up to find those familiar brown eyes staring down at you. "It-it's you!" you finally said as the shock began to wear off. He gave you a lopsided grin and nodded.
"Joel," he offered, sticking his hand out. Joel. Joel. Joel. You rolled his name around in your head like a ping pong ball. It suited him.
You took his hand, his long fingers dwarfing yours. "I'm-"
Then he cut you off and said your name and once again, you struggled to keep the shock from your face. "Your nametag," he explained, letting your hand go and gesturing towards his own chest where a nametag would sit. "I remember."
"Yeah," you said breathlessly with a smile. You glanced around the room while people shoved past you to get to the bar. "What are you doing here?"
His smile faltered a bit and he rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't live too far. Had the night to myself so I came out with my brother. He's over there," Joel pointed to the opposite corner of the bar but it was impossible to see him through all the people.
"Oh, cool," you nodded and took a sip from your glass. His eyes drifted to your lips, getting lost in the way they puckered around the straw. "Do you guys come here a lot?"
He chuckled and dropped his chin shyly to his chest before shaking his head. "No, um," he cleared his throat and looked back up at you. "Was hopin' I would run into you, actually."
"Me?" you squeaked and your heart began to race. He nodded and grinned.
"Yeah. Wondered if maybe you'd-"
A huge, burly man who definitely had too much to drink shouldered past you, accidentally shoving you into Joel's chest. His arms immediately wrapped around your ribs to steady you and somehow you didn't spill anything on his clothes.
"God, I'm sorry," you mumbled, his scent making you dizzy. You always had a register between you. Never before had you been that close, noticing he smelled like he had just gotten out of the shower and it was instantly overwhelming.
"It's alright," he said, his arms still loosely wrapped around your midsection. "But I gotta get this out before I lose my nerve, darlin'."
Darlin'. Your brows furrowed and before you could reply, he spoke. "I wondered if you wanted to go out on a date sometime? Maybe a movie or somethin'? I know you work alotta nights but I -"
"You want to go out with me?" you asked in disbelief. He looked at you like you had two heads.
"'Course I do. Wasn't it obvious?" he could feel the heat creeping up his neck.
"No! I thought... nevermind, it doesn't matter," you told him, a smile pulling across your lips. "Yes, I would love to. God, if you only knew-" you stopped yourself by slapping your hand over your mouth and he quirked a playful eyebrow at you but he was too excited that you agreed to go out with him to ask you to finish your thought. He handed you his phone as you shakily typed in your number, hoping your trembling fingers didn't mess it up before giving it back to him.
"I'm gonna text you tomorrow, set somethin' up, yeah?" he asked and you nodded numbly, your mind reeling as you tried to process everything that was happening. He grinned and slid his phone back into his pocket. "Have a good night," he said, the familiar phrase making you smile before disappearing into the crowd.
"Um, who the hell was that?" Courtney questioned the second you arrived back at your table.
"I need a fucking shot first and then I'll tell you, holy shit," you said, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves with no success. She laughed and got you each tequila shots, then you spent the rest of the night telling her all about Joel the hot flower guy.
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The next morning, you paid for your crimes. Your head throbbed and your mouth was dry as sand as you stumbled into your bathroom to scoop water from the faucet, desperately trying to quench your thirst. You weren't normally a huge drinker, but after your run-in with Joel, you were so nervous that you found yourself tossing back a few extra drinks than normal. Fortunately, you didn't work until late afternoon, so after you fumbled around your cupboards for some crackers, you fell back into bed. Your eyes widened when you saw a missed text from an unsaved number an hour ago.
Hey, it's Joel. It was great running into you last night. I was thinking we could go to dinner this week, if you're still up for it. What nights are you free?
"Shit," you muttered, running a hand anxiously through your hair. Now that you were sober, the prospect of seeing hot flower guy outside of work made you inexplicably nervous.
You must have typed out and deleted fifteen responses before going with I would love to! I'm free Sunday, Monday and Wednesday nights. Or we could do something after I get out of work, we close at nine.
Did you sound too desperate? You chewed on your fingernail as you read your sent text over and over, then shrugged and put your phone down. Too late now, anyway.
It took a while to get his response, but to be fair, you didn't reply to him for an hour.
I can make Sunday work.
Sunday? As in, tomorrow?
"Oh, fuck," you groaned, fully not expecting him to set something up so quickly. You needed time to mentally prepare, but of course you agreed, then quickly texted Courtney, begging for her help on what to wear and how to do your hair.
Yay!! We can talk about it at work tonight!
After you ironed out a time and restaurant with Joel, you popped two pain relievers and chugged some water, hoping to get rid of your hangover before work.
"Okay, so where's he taking you?" Courtney asked excitedly as you stocked cereal together.
"This Italian place on Westwood. Here, I looked it up," you said, pulling out your phone and showing her the menu. "Have you been there before? What do I wear?"
She squinted at your screen and shook her head. "I haven't been there but we can figure this out. It doesn't look that fancy, but you should probably wear a dress or skirt."
"Ooo, do you finally have yourself a date?" Andy asked from halfway down the aisle, clearly overhearing part of your conversation. "Hot flower guy is going to be so disappointed."
You laughed and pocketed your phone. "It's with hot flower guy," you said triumphantly. Andy's eyes bugged out of his head, confused, until you and Courtney explained what happened the night before when he was busy staring at the bartender.
"You should have told me last night! So I guess that means he really is single."
You paused and cocked your head to the side, realizing all of the sudden you still didn't know why he bought flowers every Friday.
"Uh, yeah, I guess so," you replied, turning your attention back to the cereal. Andy and Courtney exchanged worried glances behind your back.
"I'm sure he's not stupid enough to buy flowers from you for another woman every week and then ask you out," Courtney said, glaring at Andy. He cleared his throat and nodded.
"Y-yeah, I mean, maybe they're for a grave or something."
You both turned to him and gave him an incredulous look.
"Hey, I'm just trying to help," he said, throwing up his hands and walking away. You bit your lip and glanced at Courtney.
"Don't worry about it. There's tons of reasons why guys would buy flowers weekly... maybe he just likes to have fresh flowers in the house. Maybe they're for his mom!"
"Yeah, good point. I bet they're for his mom," you agreed, feeling a little better as you ripped open the next cardboard box full of cereal boxes.
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When you woke on Sunday morning, you were already nervous. You could have sworn your heart was slamming in your chest from the moment you opened your eyes, already overthinking your date with Joel.
You spent the afternoon texting Courtney pictures of outfits you hauled out of your closet and tossed on your bed, then decided you needed to try them on for her to get the full effect. You were sitting on your bed, wearing a light blue sundress, the last outfit you had tried on as you gathered your pictures. Your thumb quickly tapped all of the photos of you modeling your options and typed out what one looks the best? then hit send.
As you were unzipping your dress and sliding it down your legs, you heard your phone ping from your bed. You hung up the dress and pulled your sweats back on before reaching for your phone, hesitating when you saw Joel's name pop up. You felt a pit in your stomach, worried that he came to his senses and was asking to cancel, so you sat down on the bed before sliding your thumb over the screen to open his text.
You look great in everything, but I really like the pink one.
Your palms instantly broke out into a sweat and you felt lightheaded.
"Oh no, oh no, oh no," you mumbled, scrolling up in your text chain before cursing and throwing yourself into your pillows to scream. In your rush to send your text, you accidentally sent the pictures to Joel instead of Courtney. You waited until you got your bearings and tried to convince yourself it wasn't really that bad, that it definitely could have been worse, before replying.
Ha, sorry. I meant to send those to a friend, but if you like the pink one, then I guess that answers my question
You stared down at your phone, anxiously waiting for his answer, which didn't take very long at all.
You could wear a paper sack and you would still look beautiful.
The grin that stretched across your face was massive. He was probably just sweet talking you and trying to make you feel better about making such a stupid mistake, but damn, it worked.
Looking forward to tonight :) you said in response, then bit your lip and flung yourself backwards on your bed. Your eyes drifted to the light pink dress hanging in your closet and you smiled.
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As it turned out, the Italian restaurant was owned by Joel's brother, Tommy. You met the younger man at the host stand when you walked in the door. He had a huge grin plastered across his face and although you were an only child, you could still tell when someone was itching to tease their sibling. Tommy's eyes flickered back and forth between you and Joel, silently communicating with his brother as you introduced yourself. You managed to catch Joel shooting Tommy a warning glare before nervously resting his hand on your lower back and guiding you through the restaurant to an empty booth in the back.
"Have I told you how beautiful you look?" Joel asked, his dark eyes sparkling even under the dim mood lighting. You giggled and shyly looked down at your lap.
"A couple times."
Joel smiled warmly and leaned forward, his eyes trailing over the soft curves of your jaw and the way your plush lips stretched when he made you smile.
Before the food arrived, you learned a little more about him. He worked in construction, doing mostly residential but some commercial property work. He was trying to go into business for himself, which he told you was difficult but he already had years of experience and contacts in the area. He preferred to do most jobs himself or with as little help as possible because he only trusted his own work, but sometimes he did hire Tommy for a job to help his brother earn extra money.
"And in return, he lets me eat here for free," Joel finished, wiping the small smudge of red sauce from the corner of his mouth.
"That sounds like a win-win," you joked, and Joel chuckled.
"Tell me 'bout yourself. You said you been workin' at the store for four years?"
"Yeah," you nodded, pushing your empty plate to the side. "It's just meant to be temporary. I'm going to community college three days a week. Trying to get my degree so I can get a job with normal hours."
Joel hummed and leaned back in the booth. "What'dya wanna do?"
You shrugged. "I'm not sure, really. Hoping I figure that out as I go. I just know being a cashier for the rest of my life isn't for me, you know?"
"Yeah, sure," he agreed. "I could ask 'round if you want. Maybe some place is hirin' a receptionist or somethin'?"
"Oh, it's okay," you waved him off with a smile. "I appreciate it, though."
Afterwards, he took you for ice cream. You sat together outside the ice cream stand on a bench. The temperature outside was perfect and the place was mobbed. Kids ran around playing tag while other families gathered around picnic tables, laughing and telling each other about their days while you tried not to stare at Joel licking his ice cream and fantasizing about what that would look like between your legs.
"I wouldn't've pegged you for a strawberry girl," he said, nodding towards your rapidly melting ice cream.
"It reminds me of when I was a kid. My grandma liked to take me out for ice cream when she babysat me and strawberry was her favorite."
He smiled, listening to you talk about your family, getting a brief glimpse into your life, leaving him wanting more.
You thought everything was going so well. The date went perfectly. There wasn't as much awkwardness as you originally thought there would be and Joel was very easy to talk to. So when he dropped you off at your door and you invited him inside, you were surprised and somewhat hurt when he declined after a quick glance at his watch. He only kissed your cheek before telling you have a good night and backing out of your driveway, leaving you confused and a little self-conscious.
"He's probably just a gentleman," Courtney assured you the following day, "wants to take things slow and all that."
And you agreed. Once you had time to process everything, that seemed like exactly what it was, and you began to feel better.
But then Joel took you on a second date, and then a third, and he still hadn't tried to kiss you or make a move whatsoever.
"Maybe he's just rusty," Courtney offered after the fourth date and still finding yourself being shot down. "He wouldn't keep going out with you if he didn't like you."
Once again, Courtney made sense and you agreed he just liked to take things slower than you were used to.
But on your fifth date, where he took you to a baseball game, you misjudged the size of the beers they sold and you found yourself tipsier than you expected. Joel seemed really into the game but turned his focus on you whenever you searched for it, which, as the night wore on and the alcohol buzzed in your veins, became more and more frequent. You would ask him questions about how the game was played, even though your father watched baseball your whole life, just so you could listen to him talk. You looped your arm through his when the game was over and you both shuffled out of the stadium with a whole herd of drunk fans, back out into the parking lot. You tightly held onto his bicep, the feeling of his muscles under you fingertips more intoxicating than the beer, as he escorted you to his truck.
On the drive back to your place, you could feel your confidence building. Maybe he's just shy and doesn't know how to make a move. Maybe he just needs a clearer sign. Maybe he's waiting for you to make a move.
So, when he walked you to your door and he leaned in to kiss your cheek, you turned your face at the last second and locked your lips with his.
You could feel his surprise when your lips met. He froze and stopped breathing as he tried to figure out what to do, so you decided to make things easier for him and draped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and massaging your lips over his, urging him to reciprocate.
And finally, his hands flew up to your waist and tugged you against him. His mouth began to move and he crowded you up against your door. When your back made contact with the wood and his large palms squeezed gently at your hips, you moaned into his mouth. You had been dying for this for weeks and you would be damned it you were going to let it stop too soon.
Without even asking this time, you reached behind you and fumbled with your doorknob, twisting it blindly without breaking the kiss so you could both stumble inside. He kicked the door shut behind him, tongue licking at the seam of your lips while he brought one of his hands up to cup the back of your head. You granted him access, parting your lips and tangling your tongues together as he continued to walk you backwards. He opened his eyes and glanced around the dark living room quickly before pulling away and whispering one word: bedroom?
The way he said it made your knees weak and your heart flutter excitedly in your chest. You pulled him down for one more kiss before grabbing his hand and practically dragging him down the hall. About halfway to your room, his lips latched onto the crook of your neck and you slowed down, closing your eyes and twisting around in his arms so you could kiss him again. He pinned you against the wall with a groan, his thumb and forefinger clutching your jaw, prying it open so he could devour you. You hooked one leg over his hips and he let go of your jaw so he could grab the backs of your thighs and haul you off the ground.
You tugged at his hair impatiently, then gasped when he ground himself against your core, your body jolting in his arms and knocking a canvas print off the wall.
"Shit," he muttered, barely sparing the picture a glance before peeling you off the wall and carrying you towards your bedroom with your ankles hooked together at his lower back. You giggled against his mouth then squealed when he tossed you onto your bed. His hands glided underneath your dress and up your legs, slipping his fingers around the the waistband of your panties and tugging them down, pausing once he got to your knees. He blinked a few times like he was snapping out of a stupor and glanced up at you.
"Is this okay?"
"God, yes," you said, reaching behind you to tug at your zipper. You tried to shrug off your dress but his lips found yours and you quickly got distracted. You nibbled at his bottom lip while simultaneously tugging at the hem of his shirt, pushing it up over his soft stomach and stopping at his broad shoulders. He broke away just long enough to lean back and toss the shirt over his head and he was back on top of you before you could even drink him in.
You dragged your mouth over his chin, biting and nipping as you went. He groaned as you left open mouthed kisses across his jaw, his prickly beard tickling your tongue. "My dress," you whispered against his cheek before mouthing at the skin there, "take it off."
His palms slid over your shoulders, pushing the straps of your dress down while you wiggled a bit, helping move the fabric down your body. You arched your back so he could pull your dress all the way off, his breath getting caught in this throat when your nipples brushed against his bare chest.
He couldn't resist. When your dress was discarded on the floor, he sat back between your legs to admire your naked body, completely transfixed. Too much time had passed without him saying anything and you grew self-conscious, so you slowly began to cross your arms over your chest, but he stopped you.
"No," he rasped with a shake of his head. "You're so beautiful, just wanna look at you another minute."
Your cheeks flared with heat but you dropped your hands and gazed up at him, watching his eyes flicker excitedly over your body, memorizing every curve and freckle he could find. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a twitch in his pants and you glanced down at the outline of his cock through his jeans. You bit your lip and he followed your gaze, palming his erection briefly before undoing his pants.
"Oh," you whispered to yourself when you saw his cock spring free. He wrapped his hand around his thick shaft and glanced up at you as he crawled back up the mattress on his knees. "You're big," you added, unable to look away. He blushed but didn't reply. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed you, this time slower. You shuddered in anticipation when you felt the tip of his leaking cock brush against your pussy and he froze.
"Shit, wait," he grumbled, sitting back on his heels before reaching for his wallet, which was still stuffed inside his jeans. You figured out the problem and leaned over to your nightstand, fishing around in the drawer until you found a condom and held it out for him. He looked relieved when he saw the little foil square and tossed his wallet back onto the ground before ripping open the condom and rolling it on.
"Sorry. It's... been a while. Wasn't exactly prepared," he explained, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. The endearing confession just made you want him even more.
"It's okay, come here," you murmured, reaching your arms out for him. He grinned and fell down onto his elbows, kissing you slow and deep. When you felt him rest his tip at your entrance, you tensed up.
"Relax," he whispered in your ear. You slid your eyes shut and snaked your arms around his shoulders, gasping sharply when he pressed forward. When he sunk his teeth into your shoulder, your eyes rolled to the back of your head, the pain mixing with the pleasure in a way that made you dizzy.
"Oh, fuck, Joel," you whimpered when he bottomed out, your body stretching around his girth, the sting setting your nerves on fire.
He groaned against your neck and began to rock his hips steadily, making sure to not go too fast. He could tell you were still getting adjusted but it had just been so fucking long and he liked you so much, it was difficult to hold back. He could feel the sweat collecting between his shoulder blades as he focused all his energy on going slow, and when he felt your thighs relax around his waist and your back arch underneath him, he sighed with relief.
"More," you moaned, pressing your body against his, trying to get as close as possible. He growled and dipped his mouth down to capture one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud, releasing it with a wet pop and reveling in the sweet noises you made for him.
He wanted to tell you everything. He wanted to tell you how much he thought about you, how long he wanted to ask you out, how he wanted to know everything about you, how nervous you made him with just a simple glance. But he didn't say any of that. It had been so long since he had gone on a date that he wasn't even sure what women liked anymore. So he remained silent, focusing on not coming too soon while paying close attention to your cues, memorizing what you liked based on the breathy whines in his ear and the way your fingers clutched frantically at his hair. You, however, took his silence to mean he wasn't enjoying himself and you really, really didn't want that, so you pushed gently on his shoulder, drawing his attention.
"Let's switch," you murmured, and he gave you a quizzical look. "Why don't you lay back and let me do some of the work?" you explained, nipping playfully at his jaw.
When his head settled into your pillows, watching with heavy lidded eyes as you straddled him before catching his gaze and slowly sinking down, taking every inch of his cock with a low moan, he thought for sure it would be the death of him. You looked so beautiful all spread out and full of him that he had to squeeze his eyes shut so he wouldn't come just looking at you.
Then you started riding him and his eyes flew open, his chest heaving as he watched your tits bounce and your head tip back in ecstasy and he knew he was done for.
"Wait," he rasped, grabbing your waist and stilling your hips. You stopped, swollen lips parted as you panted for air and looked down at him.
"What's wrong?"
"N-nothin'," he stammered, taking a few deep breaths in before chuckling. "I'm just... I need a minute, is all."
You could see the red beginning to stain his cheeks and the look of embarrassment flicker across his face, melting your heart. Leaning down, you cupped his jaw and kissed him tenderly.
"Is that why you've been so quiet?" you asked softly, leaning back so you could look into his eyes but still holding his cheek in the palm of your hand. He nodded, his fingers gently wrapping around your wrist.
"I'm sorry. I haven't been with anyone in years and I've been tryin' to take things slow with you but I think all the buildup just made it worse." You grinned and took his other hand.
"Don't be sorry. I think it's hot," you whispered, pulling his free hand down between your bodies. He splayed his hand out across your lower abdomen and you took his thumb between your fingers, pulling it down so it made direct contact with your clit. You sucked in a sharp breath when you felt the pressure and a slow smile spread across his face when he realized what you were doing.
"Yeah? Why's it hot?" he asked, drawing slow circles over your clit and watching your jaw fall open and your eyes flutter shut. Both your hands dropped to his chest, holding yourself up.
"Because," you began, then bit your lip and moaned when he picked up the pace. "Because it's l-like you c-can't control yourself. Like y-you need me so badly, you can't hold back." You knew it sounded pathetic but you didn't care. His touch was intoxicating and you needed more.
"I can't," he admitted, his eyes glued to your face, taking pride in how good he made you feel. "I can't control myself. Wanted you for so long. Been thinkin' about this for months."
You gasped and your eyes snapped open, locking onto his. "Me, too. I never thought, shit, never thought you noticed me."
"Are you kiddin' me? I noticed you the first day." Now that the truth was out there, the words wouldn't stop coming. "You were wearin' a yellow shirt and I saw these perfect fuckin' tits when you bent over. Went home that night and-"
He stopped himself, wondering if he was going too far, but you dug your fingers into his chest and urged him to continue, desperately gasping for air as his thumb applied more pressure.
"Say it," you whispered. His cock pulsed angrily inside you, begging for release.
"Went home and fucked my fist thinkin' 'bout you."
You groaned loudly and leaned back, grabbing your breasts and playing with your nipples. "Fuck, I'm close, Joel."
"Yeah? Can you ride me, baby? Wanna come with you," he begged, his voice strained. Immediately, you resumed bouncing on his cock, letting go of your tits so you could brace yourself on his chest once again.
He watched in awe as you gasped and squeezed your eyes shut, stilling for just a moment, pulsing around his length as you came, his name and curses tumbling from your lips.
He couldn't hold back any longer.
He grabbed your hips with both hands and slammed up into you, grunting louder and louder each time. And it didn't take long. You had barely recovered from your own orgasm before he groaned, his eyes trained on where you were connected, thrusting as deep as he could go while his cock throbbed inside you.
"Fuck," he whispered, his head falling back limply onto your pillow. You slumped forward and buried your face against his neck, each of you trying to regulate your breathing.
"That was..." you began, trailing off when you realized your brain was still a pile of mush.
"Better than I ever imagined," Joel finished for you, wrapping his arms around your ribs.
Regrettably, he eventually pulled out, making you both wince. You rolled over onto your back and watched as he made his way to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. If you had any energy left, you might have shot off a quick text to Courtney, but you were barely coherent by the time he slipped back into your bed.
You didn't even need to ask if he was staying the night. He pulled you into his arms, his chest pressed up against your back when you fell asleep, completely at ease.
It could have been the beer or the sex, but you didn't hear his phone go off in the middle of the night. You didn't feel him slip his arm out from under you so he could answer the call in your living room, and you definitely didn't hear him quickly dress and leave.
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It was finally Friday and you were moments away from calling off from work. The thought of facing him again made your stomach roll and your head swim.
You hadn't heard from Joel since he left in the middle of the night after you slept together, days ago. You foolishly texted and called him multiple times, but he never answered. Eventually, you got the message.
Countless hours were spent crying, then more were spent stalking around your place angrily, and a mixture of the two happened at work when either Courtney or Andy asked you about hot flower guy.
They eventually learned not to ask.
As badly as you wanted to call off, you dragged yourself into work. Andy offered to take over the registers so you could hide in the aisles stocking shelves during the hour Joel typically showed up, and you shamefully took him up on it. But when it was close to closing time and you made your way back to the front, Andy shrugged his shoulders.
"He never came."
You had a moment where you worried that something happened to him and you considered texting him just one more time, but when you got into your car that night and opened your text chain to a long list of unanswered texts, you changed your mind.
However, the next morning you awoke to a handful of texts from Joel. At first, your heart raced in your chest, but then your anger crept up and you had half a mind to just delete them. After you had some coffee and a chance to think clearly, your curiosity won and you opened the texts.
I'm so sorry
Something came up
Can you call me back?
Please let me explain
Your fingers hovered over your screen as you debated on what to say. Then you decided to leave the messages unanswered. At least for a little while. If he left you hanging for almost a week, he could wait a few hours, right?
What you didn't expect, however, was for him to show up at the store on a Saturday. He only ever came on Friday evenings. You were cashing out a customer, zoning out a bit, grateful for the distraction. When you reached for the receipt, your eyes locked with his and your pulse began to race. He was holding a bouquet of white roses and looking at you with a guilty expression. Your fingers froze around the paper momentarily until the little old lady in front of him cleared her throat and you blinked, snapping out of it and handing her the receipt with an apologetic smile.
"Hey," he said, but you kept your gaze trained down at the scanner.
"Hi."
Your hands shook as you scanned his flowers, doing your best to get the interaction over with as quickly as possible. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Andy at customer service notice Joel in line, watching from a distance in case you needed rescuing.
"You didn't respond to my texts," he said quietly. You shrugged.
"I've been busy," was all you said, tapping the button on the register for credit.
After he paid, you handed him his receipt and forced yourself to look at him. You could see in his eyes he looked exhausted and run down and despite how upset you were, you felt bad. But you felt even worse after he pocketed the receipt and handed you the flowers.
"They're for you."
"Oh," you said, surprised, as you looked down at the roses. "T-thank you."
Joel looked over his shoulder when a young couple began to unload their groceries on the belt. You panicked, not sure what to do or say, and then you felt a tap on your shoulder.
"Why don't you take your break?" Andy offered, "I'll cover."
You gave him a shaky smile, both of you knowing full well you already had your break. "Yeah, okay." Glancing over at Joel, you tilted your head towards the front door and he nodded.
"I'm so sorry I left without sayin' anythin'," he began when you sat down together on a bench outside the store. "There was an emergency and I had to go."
"You could have texted me or left a note," you said sadly, looking down at the flowers clutched in your hands.
"I know, and I was gonna, but my damn phone died and I was in the hospital for days. I was outta town, couldn't leave, I even wore the same clothes the whole time," he rubbed his face and sighed. "And once we got back home, I wanted to explain in person what happened."
"We?" you questioned. He dropped his chin to his chest and nodded solemnly.
"I have a daughter," he confessed, and your jaw dropped in surprise.
"W-what?" you whispered softly, "why didn't you tell me, Joel?"
His eyebrows pinched together, still avoiding your gaze.
"I don't know. In the past, women haven't exactly been thrilled findin' out I come with baggage and I guess I was bein' selfish." He finally looked up and you could see the pain behind his eyes. "I was tryin' to find the right way to tell you but I was so scared of losin' you."
You shook your head in disbelief. "It doesn't bother me at all that you have a daughter, Joel," you told him, "it bothers me that you lied."
He inched forward on the bench and put his hand on your knee. "I know. I'm so sorry. It was stupid. If you gimme another chance, I promise I'll never lie to you again."
Your chest tightened and you had to look away. He was so sincere, you could feel your resolve crumbling. After a moment, you dragged your eyes back up to him and you could swear he looked like he was on the verge of tears.
"Is she okay?"
He blinked rapidly for a moment, surprised by your question, then nodded.
"Yeah. She's okay now. She had appendicitis. She was with her mom last week. She lives an hour outside Austin and I just went right there from your place. Scared the shit outta me," he finished with a dry chuckle. Then something clicked.
"Your daughter..."
"Sarah."
"Sarah," you repeated. "The flowers you bought every week. Were they for her?"
He smiled shyly and nodded. "Yeah. She gets nervous goin' to her mom's still. The situation is a little rocky so I always get her flowers. Whether she's goin' there or comin' back. They make her smile," he said with a little shrug, and your heart melted.
"That's... that's really sweet," you said, looking down once again at the roses he bought you. He watched you closely for a moment then sat back on the bench, scratching his chin and trying to read your mind. Everything was out in the open now. He should have listened to Tommy and just told you the truth from the first date, but he couldn't remember the last time he ever felt so strongly about someone else before.
Just when he was about to leave, wanting to give you your space to think things over, you spoke again.
"So when are you free next?"
Joel exhaled in relief, then laughed. "Tomorrow?"
You bit your lip and nodded, then leaned forward and cupped his jaw, giving him a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth.
"It's a date," you whispered before standing up. He watched you from the bench as you walked towards the front doors. At the last moment you turned around, the white roses clutched against your chest, and called out, "have a good night."
He grinned.
"Have a good night."
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naughtyjjk · 7 months ago
Text
testing nanami kento’s self-control
characters: nanami x fem reader warnings: 18+, smut, riding, cock tease, edging, orgasm denial, begging, creampie notes: it's just so hot to see a man who's always composed start to break down hehe
whenever nanami comes home, his suit and tie are always in pristine condition, even after a long day of work. there’s never a strand of hair out of place or a speck of dust to be found anywhere. that’s just how he is—precise and focused and meticulous, almost to a fault.
even when you’re undressing him, kissing him, bringing your bodies together, he still manages to be so put together that it’s honestly a little frustrating. it makes you want to tease him to the point of torture and go slow enough that he falls apart. so slow that he begs.
you want to see him lose control. you want to ruin him.
pushing nanami down on the bed, you climb on top of him and grab the lube, slicking his cock with a few strokes. he’s already so hard, flushed red and throbbing in your grasp, desperate for more. when he bucks his hips to try and fuck himself in your fist, you let go completely and tsk at him.
“don’t move,” you say, coaxing him. “let me take care of you today.”
sighing, nanami lies back down, hips going still. you shift yourself so that your pussy is lined up with his cock, using a hand to brush the tip against your folds, never going further than that. this goes on for agonizingly long as you tease the both of you, feeling his hard cockhead poking at your entrance.
you push down a little, applying the slightest of pressure, and hold it there until you hear nanami groan, his cock twitching with arousal. he’s looking at you with lidded eyes, expression dark and hungry. “darling…”
but you only grin and move again, this time almost allowing his cock to slip inside you. almost. so close, but not quite there. you drag the head past your entrance, dipping barely inside, before you lift your hips again. nanami’s breath hitches, chest heaving. he swallows thickly, arms tense by his side, fighting against his instincts to keep himself still.
“ah—f-fuck—”
leaning forward to kiss him, you catch his bottom lip and flick your tongue over it. meanwhile, you spread your legs a bit wider and finally, finally sink down so that the very tip nudges inside you. only the tip. nanami is moaning your name in broken pieces, mixed in with a few curses and whimpers.
then you stop. again.
nanami groans in frustration and his hips jerk up involuntarily, but you were expecting it. you move with him, keeping just the tip of his cock in you, maintaining the position and refusing to let him go any deeper.
“wh-what did i do to deserve this teasing?” nanami asks, looking like he’s about to lose it.
you lick your lips and reply honestly, “you’re always so composed, kento. i want to make you desperate for it, see you completely wrecked for me.”
for a few more seconds, you stay in the same position, unmoving. the stretch of his cock is nice; he’s hardly even really inside you yet, but your pussy is already adjusting to his size, opening up for him. it’s so tempting to take all of him like you’ve done many times in the past, to ride him and bring him straight to the edge. but no. not yet. you have a plan to follow through.
lowering your hips just the slightest, you sink down further, taking more of his cockhead until the crown is almost fully inside. you can feel him throbbing against your walls, wanting more but never getting it.
nanami lets out a broken moan, breath stuttering. “you’re being cruel. how long are you going to make me wait?”
“that,” you say, “depends on how long you can hold out.”
as if to punish him, you raise your hips again, smiling wickedly as you pull away until all of him is resting outside your entrance again. it’s hard for you, too; you miss the feeling of having him inside. but you remind yourself that you’re going slow, as slow as you possibly can. slow so that you can watch nanami break.
nanami groans, low and needy. his hands clench and unclench the bedsheets by his sides. “fuck.”
without warning, you drop down again suddenly, less than an inch just so that you have the tip of his cock in you again. nanami gasps, throwing his head back against the pillow. you take in all the sensations: the messy feeling of lube and precum, the way nanami’s hard cock twitches with desire. how he’s struggling and using every ounce of his willpower to not buck up and thrust into you.
“good boy,” you lean in to whisper right by nanami’s ear, watching with delight as he shudders in response. he’s breathing hard, every muscle in his body tensed up.
you keep him there inside you for what seems like forever. every tiny shift of movement is agonizing and extra sensitive, sending waves of pleasure from where you two connect to the rest of your body. you can tell that nanami also feels it, by the way he’s losing control more and more with each passing second.
and that’s exactly what you want. it’s working. you’re going to break him down piece by piece until he’s nothing but a shaking, writhing, horny mess beneath you.
it’s such a fucking turn on to see nanami’s self-control slipping, breaths growing ragged, waiting in anticipation for whatever you’re willing to give him next. it’s getting hard for you to hold back as well. you let just a tiny bit more of nanami’s cock into your pussy so that all of the head is nestled inside and then you start the shallowest, most torturously slow rhythm you’ve ever done in your life. hardly moving at all, the most miniscule rolls of your hips to take only the tip of his cock over and over again.
up… and down…
up… and down…
“o-oh god,” nanami curses, and he can’t help rocking his hips to follow your rhythm, matching your pace. he knows better now than to try for anything more, knows that you could take it all away from him at any moment.
each time his cock nudges its way back inside you, your pussy clenches around him. tight, like it doesn’t want to let him go. and nanami moans, feeling your walls clamp down on his cock, wishing that he could feel your warmth along the rest of his neglected shaft, too.
he looks delirious now, so fucking aroused with his mouth parted and his eyes hazy and unfocused. his cock throbs and pulses inside you, making him dizzy with pleasure. the shallow thrusts are getting to him, slowly but surely, the sensation building up in tingling layers, bringing him closer to the edge.
honestly, you’re teasing yourself as just much as you’re teasing nanami. with only short strokes of his cock that barely manage to penetrate you, you feel empty, craving for him to hit your deepest parts. on one hand, it’s so fucking hot to drag it out like this, so arousing to see nanami at your mercy. on the other hand, you’re reaching your limit, too.
“beg,” you say. “tell me how badly you need it. let me hear you beg, kento.”
there seems to be an internal battle going on within nanami as he grits his teeth, trying to resist. but it’s futile; you simply keep moving your hips in that slow, steady rhythm until it becomes unbearable and nanami gives in embarrassingly fast, mind clouded with lust.
“hah—p-please, i can’t—fuck, please—”
“mm,” you consider his words. “please what?”
nanami chokes out a moan. “i wanna fuck you—ah, please, your pussy—” he looks at his aching cock, the precum spilling down the sides, the way his cockhead disappears into you. “let me come—i-i need—” then he gasps, “oh shit—”
it’s beyond arousing to hear him like this. in that moment, you don’t let him finish his sentence as something snaps within you and you give in to your own desires. your hips slam down on him without warning, burying all of his cock inside you in a single, rapid movement.
an intense wave of pleasure rushes through both of you, every nerve ending igniting at once. you moan, overwhelmed. you’re filled so deep and so fast that it takes a second for you to return to your senses. and nanami—fuck, the sound he makes, low and guttural, a stuttering, broken moan that should be illegal. his abdomen clenches, thighs shaking. it’s only one full thrust, but you can tell that he almost came right then and there.
“fuck.” his voice sounds destroyed, fucked out. chest heaving, he wants so badly to buck his hips into you until he’s spilling his release into you. it won’t take much more to get him there. but he very carefully doesn’t move, still following your orders, still being good.
“k-kento,” you whine, staying there, the sensation of his cock pulsing and splitting you open driving you dangerously close to orgasm as well. you don’t dare to move until the pleasure simmers down into something more manageable, until you’re sure that you’ve fallen away from the edge.
that’s when you draw your hips up again. still going slow, so fucking slow that it almost breaks you—but it breaks nanami too, and that’s what you’re aiming for.
by this point, nanami’s composure has completely crumbled. he’s resigned himself to the torture as you restart the aching, brutally slow thrusts. the tip of his cock dips into you, as far as the crown of his cockhead, and then pulls out almost all the way. again and again and again.
you’re dripping wet, the teasing against your pussy reaching an unbearable degree. there’s nothing you want more than to take nanami fast and deep, to feel him hitting your most sensitive spots instead of just playing with the entrance. but you almost have nanami where you want him and you’re betting on him to give in first.
“please—ah, m-more—” nanami cries out, breathy and horny and frustrated, trembling from the effort of holding himself back.
you keep the same pace, not giving him what he wants. keeping him just on the edge of satisfaction, waiting him out. and it’s infinitely worse now that you’ve both had a taste of what you could be getting instead.
your hips move up. then down.
then up again.
the crown of his cockhead catches and releases from your pussy, delicious friction causing your head to spin. nanami’s neck is arched, looking at you with narrow eyes, aroused beyond his limits.
“f-fuck, fuck,” he rambles nonsensically, body so tense. “please—let me—i’m—i need—let me inside you—i c-can’t take it anymore—”
“just a little longer,” you tell him, and nanami groans. “you can hold out for a few more minutes, can’t you? be a good boy for me.”
those words make a desperate, wrecked sound escape from his lips and his self-control is slipping, slipping, slipping. he’s turning wild under you now, squirming, writhing, frenzied and starved for his release. your own willpower is dissolving at the sight of nanami’s desperation.
your hips descend on his cock again, clenching tight around the tip. nanami sucks in a sharp breath.
up, agonizingly slow, leaving him throbbing at the loss of contact. this time, you let out a moan, feeling so empty. god, it’s not enough for you either, not nearly fucking enough.
“need you—n-need to feel you,” nanami pleads, whimpering, chanting your name over and over. “please, please, i’m close—fuck, i’m so—”
he’s panting, cock twitching madly, and this —this is exactly what you had been waiting for the whole time: nanami completely ruined, nanami undone by your actions, nanami looking at you with pure hunger and lust, overtaken by arousal. he seems to be right on the edge of pleasure, so close to tipping over, body burning with an orgasm held at bay. you’re sure that when you finally allow him to come, it’ll be ecstasy like he’s never felt before, coming harder than he ever has in his life.
and that’s the end of your limits. you can’t deny either of you any longer.
you slam your hips down all at once, plunging nanami’s hard, aching cock inside you.
“ah—!”
“f-fuuuck—”   
nanami moans, loud and guttural and absolutely wrecked. it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. his cock splits you open, so hard and thick, and you fall forward on his chest as your pussy spasms around him.
the sensation is entirely overwhelming, your mind going blank, pleasure jolting along your nerves tenfold, having built up by the teasing and denial.
“o-oh god,” nanami pants. he bends his knees to drive his cock even deeper inside you, and the change in angle makes you fucking delirious. “good, so good—”
you’re all out of patience. there’s no more waiting, no more drawing this out.
looking at nanami, you say, “kento. take what you need. make yourself come.” you swirl your hips in a circular motion, feeling his cock hitting every corner inside you, and both of you moan at the same time. “fuck me.”
something sparks in nanami’s eyes, washed over by a fresh wave of arousal. before you know it, he’s flipped the two of you over so that you’re now lying on your back and he’s propped up above you. his eyes stare into yours, so intense, and that’s when you know: he’s going to devour you.
with a growl, nanami begins to move, pulling out his cock just enough to shove it back into you. hard and fast and so, so fucking deep. your mouth parts but no sound comes out. you can’t think straight; your pussy feels so full, stretched tight around his aching cock.
“kento—kento—”
but nanami isn’t listening to you anymore. he’s so wound up, so fucking turned on beyond reason, that he can’t hold back anymore. he starts thrusting wildly and unrestrained using short, quick rolls of his hips to drive his cock into you. each inch that enters you burns with pleasure and the room fills with the filthy sounds of your moans, of nanami pounding his cock into you again and again.
“this is payback,” he says, voice low and raspy. it makes you shudder to think about what he has in store for you. “i'm gonna—hah—gonna fuck you until you scream. fill you up with my come. shit, and i won’t stop until you’re coming on my cock like the naughty fucking girl you are.”
nanami’s hips are stuttering but his pace never falters. his next thrust hits that sweet spot inside you, making you arch off the bed and gasp, sparks of pleasure dancing along your spine. and now that nanami has found it, he aims there every time, knowing how sensitive it is, how it brings you that much closer to the edge.
moaning, it’s all you can to do keep up with the brutal thrusts. your stomach coils, orgasm building and building, threatening to take over your body. it feels so fucking good. nanami’s cock is pushing deep inside you, hard and fast, pulsing against your walls, stretching you open. he uses a hand to find your clit, rubbing tight circles around the swollen nub, and you cry out, hips bucking up to chase the sensation, clenching around his cock on instinct.
“oh—fuck, k-kento, i'm—i'm coming—”
the pleasure crests and your arousal spikes. you know that you won’t be able to endure it for much longer. and nanami is right there with you, thrusts turning erratic and desperate.
“m-me too,” he says, grunting. “come. don’t hold back. come for me, baby.”
one, two more thrusts and you’re moaning his name, body convulsing in waves. nanami fucks you through it, sending aftershocks to your nerves, and then he’s coming too, releasing everything that’s built up inside of him in spurts. he’s loud when he comes, mouth next to your ear; louder than you’ve ever heard him, riled up by all the teasing. his cock twitches inside you and his hips slow, eventually go still.
god, it’s so damn hot that it almost makes you want to fuck him all over again.
for a moment, both of you lie there, catching your breaths. then nanami pulls out slowly, careful not to overstimulate you. he holds you like that and you melt in his arms, all the strength leaving your body.
“next time,” nanami says, sounding defeated, “you’re going to be the one begging for it.”
.
tag list: @megumisdivinedogs @urlilwhore @l0rdgeosupport3rr @purple-obsidian @l0rdgeosupport3rr @minni-creations @fos-tis-zois @the-reas0n-is-y0u @cantfeelherface @rxmbzzz @lysaray @zelzablues @str4wbrrycandy @that-goth-bisexual @simping4u @iminlovewqr0w @sharks31 @pseudowho @jisoonunn @outkasti @anathemaspeaks @fushigur0slut4 @barryatsumu
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sanguineterrain · 4 months ago
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Kurt wagner and tail stuff!!! I love that boy! I love how you write! I love the tail! Smashing them together we got a a little piece of heaven! So Kurt wagner with s/o and some tail action pretty please!!
(Like if you need some more then that: for example, the times before they were together Kurt’s tail always seemed to gravitate towards reader (I’m an advocate that Kurt’s tail is like a fricking mood ring) wrapping around them, touching them. The times when they were together! And the time reader wraps their hand or something around his tail or something)
Love your writing! You’re awesome and amazing! And I want to say in advance, thank you so so much for doing this ask! I will treasure it dearly! And if you don’t do the ask then thank you so so much to taking the time to read it! Have a lovely day!
ouuu this is a sweet request <3 tail boy! thanks nonnie :) hopefully I did him justice 🫶 changed the request a bit but kept the same idea about the tail. may write a part 2... we'll see!
kurt wagner (nightcrawler) x gn!reader. fluff, cooking, gambit and rogue trying to talk some sense into the reader.
note: I tried to capture kurt and gambit's accents. however, as always, I'm open to feedback on them. It's definitely not my intention to offend or miswrite anyone!
****
The smell of bubbling cheese wafts from your pot as you stir. It's been a while since you were able to cook for yourself and have a nice meal, always running out to do something or another for the good of the planet.
"Smells good," comes a familiar voice. A moment later, a tail curls around your wrist as you shake some paprika into the pot.
You look away from your stirring into golden, irisless eyes. Kurt grins at you.
"Mac 'n cheese," you say by way of greeting. "Want some?"
"Please und thank you."
Anytime you cook, you offer Kurt to share. You frequently have the thought that you spoil the hell out of him, but you can't help it.
He helps you out by putting away the milk and cheese. But he's never far; his tail remains on you. It slackens from your wrist, then explores up your arm and around your elbow.
It's nothing new, of course. The first thing you learned about Kurt Wagner is how physically affectionate he is.
"That tail seems to have a mind of its own, elfie," you say, smiling down at the pot.
"What do you mean?"
"It's always holding onto me." You turn off the burner.
"Ah." Kurt drops his tail. "My apologies. I can ease up, as you say."
You shake your head. "Don't. I don't mind. Never have."
So Kurt gives you one final tail squeeze. The fur on his arm tickles you as he brushes past. You watch him in confusion.
"Where are you going?" you ask, halfway through scooping two servings of the pasta.
"Not far," he says brightly. "Jean wanted me to bring spoons from the kitchen." He holds up three metal spoons with his tail.
"Spoons?"
He shrugs. "An experiment. Who am I to question a scientist's whim? I promise I will be fast."
He teleports away, and you have a mind to cover Kurt's bowl with a plate. You bring both bowls to the table. At last, a proper meal.
You don't mind eating alone, but that hardly ever happens with Kurt around. Even if he's just eaten, he'll nibble on whatever you've made. You don't know where he puts all that food—perhaps in another dimension—but he makes it a point to eat with you, regardless of whether you've cooked or not. Even if you're in the middle of the forest eating a tin of beans, Kurt will plant himself right next to you and keep you company.
He's a good friend. The best friend you've ever had, actually.
"Woo, smells good!"
Gambit comes in first, followed by Rogue, since the two are never seen apart anymore. Gambit, nosy that he is, makes a beeline to Kurt's covered bowl.
"And what's in here?" he asks, lifting the plate.
"That's Kurt's," you say. "You can get some from the pot."
"Mais, it's Kurt's, huh?" He glances at Rogue, who grins. "Hear that, chère? Not sure if I should take from the pot. Might take my head, too."
You squint as they share laughter. "What're you talking about?"
"Oh, nothin'," Rogue says sweetly, taking the seat diagonal to you. Gambit sits next to her.
Your frown deepens. "I didn't say you couldn't have some, G, I just—"
Gambit shakes his head. "Don't go worryin' 'bout that. I'm just teasin'. I think it's cute how you feed the furball."
"Excuse me, I feed myself first," you say, and shovel a forkful of pasta into your mouth.
You hate not being in the know. It happens frequently, being that you're not a mutant. You're here on a personal invitation from Charles due to your "technology skills."
Really, you'd been brought here to fix Cerebro. And after that, you'd sort of just... stayed at the school. Charles had offered you a room, Kurt had won your friendship (or, perhaps, you'd won his), and you'd never left.
"Well, what do you mean, anyway? So what if I feed Kurt," you say, unable to stand not knowing.
"Just seems like where you are, Kurt's never far," Rogue says, watching you eat.
"Yeah, so? He's my friend."
"Oh, un ami. Is that what we're callin' it?" Gambit asks, eyes gleaming with mirth.
"What else would you call it?"
They look at each other in that Siamese cats way. Often, you've had the thought that they can read each other's minds—no powers needed.
"You really don't know?" Rogue asks, voice softening.
"Know what?" you ask impatiently.
Gambit makes a quiet noise in his throat. "Y'all don't know. He's gone on you."
Your brows rise. "Kurt? Don't be silly, Remy."
"Oh, great. You're both in denial," Rogue says, rolling her eyes. "Haven't you noticed how touchy he is around ya? Always huggin' and clingin'."
"Kurt's like that with everybody," you say. "He's like that with Logan!"
"Mais, the tail, it never lies," Gambit says with all the wisdom of someone centuries older. "He don't go wrappin' that tail 'round anybody."
Rogue nods sagely. "True. And he's always puttin' that tail around you."
"But he's..." You put your fork down in frustration. "That's ridiculous. Kurt would've said—I mean, there would've been a sign. He would've told me. Kurt doesn't hide anything from me."
"This is new for him, honey," Rogue says. "He's never been in love for real. He's not gonna act rationally."
"Alors, look at it this way. La Raison parle, mais l'Amour chante. Hm? His body betray his words. It sings to you. Jus' like I sing to ma cherie."
He reaches to take Rogue's hand, eyes practically heart-shaped. Rogue lets him, smiling in that secret, shy way of hers whenever Gambit is sweet on her.
L'Amour...
"Kurt is not in love with me," you say. "End of story."
They both heave sighs.
"Just watch his tail," Rogue says. "Kurt can hide a lot, but he can't control how he—"
BAMF!
You flinch as Kurt teleports into the kitchen. He grins and waves, then bounces around the table to greet the others.
"I'm back!" he says. "I hope my mac did not get cold. Will you be eating with us?"
"No, that's okay," Rogue says, looking at you meaningfully behind Kurt's back. "Rain check. We've gotta go train."
Gambit winks at you. "See y'all."
They disappear quickly. Kurt turns to you, blissfully unaware of your newly formed nerves.
"I am sorry I was gone for so long," Kurt says, sitting down to his bowl. "Jean had some questions about my abilities. Apparently, she's trying to replicate them in a machine."
"That's okay," you say. "Rogue and G kept me company."
Kurt beams. "They are so good for that, yes?"
He shovels a mouthful of mac 'n cheese into his mouth and groans in appreciation. His tail instantly curls around your wrist.
"Amazing!" Kurt says. "Perhaps your special ability is your cooking, hm? I would believe it."
You laugh. "Danke, elfie."
"Bitte schön," he says, eyes lighting up at your German. He frequently informs everyone about how good your German is becoming, even though you hardly know ten phrases.
His tail begins to stroke your arm. You wonder if he's aware of it. If he knows how his tail betrays him.
But no, that's outrageous. And even if it was true, it's not like the feeling's mutual, right?
"Oh, and," Kurt says. "I got us tickets to that show you wanted to see. They're playing it at the theater downtown. We can go on Saturday, ja?"
"You... oh. Wow. I told you about that ages ago, Kurt. You remembered?"
"Why wouldn't I?" he says, tilting his head. Like it hadn't occurred to him to be anything less than thoughtful.
"No, I'm just—thank you. That's really nice of you."
Kurt beams. "I am excited to watch the green witch und her pink friend sing!"
He keeps eating, unaware of the way he's made your world tip on its axis. Because now you know.
You're in love with Kurt Wagner. And the feeling just might be mutual.
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melzula · 10 months ago
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hii i was wondering could you write a oneshot of how zuko's self cautious of his scar and reader just kisses his scar and reassures him and tells him that hes perfect and that she loves everything abt him. This is in a very like intimate and loving way ykyk
a/n: ah this plot is so sweet! had to rewrite this piece a few times before landing on something i liked so i hope you enjoy!
summary: zuko asks you to remove his bandages
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“Are you sure you want me to do this? I can fetch Iroh instead.”
“No,” comes Zuko’s soft reply, his sullen features bathed in candle light. “I want it to be you.”
Sighing softly, you give him an understanding nod and press a careful kiss to his check. The Prince remains stoic in spite of your show of affection, simply signaling for you to proceed.
It’s been a week since the Agni Kai, and the healer has given Zuko the okay to remove his bandages. The wound should be healed by now, nothing but a painless scar with a painful memory attached to it. It’s not only your first time seeing Zuko’s new face but his as well, and neither of you are sure what to expect.
You were honestly surprised when the Prince had asked for you to be the one to remove his bandages. He’d been cold and standoffish with you since your departure from the Fire Nation, something you couldn’t blame him for considering all he’d been through, but you didn’t expect him to trust you with something so important so soon. It made you nervous, but it also made you relieved to know he still felt he could trust you with such things.
Your fingers work carefully as you unravel the white cloth around his head, doing your best not to cause too much discomfort for your Prince. He says nothing as you move and only watches you through the reflection of the mirror before him.
“Are you ready?” You ask him softly, hesitating as you reach the final layer of wrapping.
“Hesitation is a sign of weakness,” Zuko replies gruffly, and that’s all you need to hear before finally pulling away the last of the bandages.
The room is silent and tense as Zuko stares at his own reflection. The skin around his eye is angry and red, permanently damaged and forever serving as a reminder of his failure. He can hardly see out of his left eye, but he’s still able to make out your figure watching on silently as he assesses the damage.
“Go ahead and say it.”
“Say what, Zuko?” You murmur softly, carefully resting a hand upon his back.
“Say you’re disgusted by me. Say you’re repulsed,” he snarls bitterly. “Say that you’re too embarrassed to be seen with such a failure!”
“Is that really what you think?” You utter sadly, a pained smile on your lips as you carefully reach out to touch his face. His hand immediately flies up to catch your wrist in a firm grip before you can get any closer, and despite the discomfort it brings you make no attempt to move.
“It’s what I know.”
“Then you must not know me at all,” you counter with a small shake of your head.
Reality sets in and Zuko guiltily removes his ironclad grip on your wrist. He doesn’t mean to be so harsh with you, but there’s an amalgamation of emotions festering within him at the sight of his deformity. He was a Prince, he wasn’t meant to look like this, he wasn’t meant to be out at sea fruitlessly trying to find the Avatar so he could end his banishment. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
“You’re perfect, Zuko,” you console with a careful brush of your fingertips against the freshly healed skin. His eyes flutter shut at the comforting sensation, and you take it as a sign to continue. “I love you the way you are, and this scar doesn’t change that.”
He can’t help but gasp when he feels the softness of your lips pressing against his temple. How could you not feel sickened by him? How could you still love him after everything?
“Your scar is nothing but a sign of your strength, I hope you know that,” you tell him before pressing another kiss to his cheek just below his eye.
He says nothing in response, but you know that he understands you. With you, he doesn’t have to feel shame or guilt. Your love for him knows no bounds, and there’s nothing he could do that would ever make you turn away from him.
He sits in silence as you begin to apply a soothing balm to his skin. His eyes close in contentment and for the first time since leaving home he finally feels at peace.
He knows then that he made the right choice in having you be the one to remove his bandages. No one sees him like you do, and it’s more than he could ever ask for.
| zuko tags: @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @taeeemin @lora21 @livelaughlovekuni @lovialy
| atla tags: @sirkekselord @niktwazny303
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yuujispinkhair · 1 year ago
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Alpha!Yuuji headcanons
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A sweet anon sent me an ask wanting to know my thoughts about Alpha!Yuuji and my brain went grrr. Thank you!! I finally had an excuse to write about this strong and sexy Alpha with the sunshine smile and the knot so thick that it makes us sob ;) As you can see, I wrote this very shamelessly with my omega pussy lol but I hope my fellow Yuuji lovers can enjoy this self-indulgent piece too ;)
Pairing: Alpha!Yuuji x Omega!Reader (female) Genre: smut + fluff, Omegaverse AU Word Count: 3k Warnings: 18+, omegaverse, smut, breeding, knotting, creampie, pregnancy, biting, a bit of rough sex when Yuuji is in a rut, slight lactation kink, praise, mentions of blood and scars. Yuuji has to kill to protect his pack. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact. Thank you for the star divider @/benkeibear. There is now fanart for this AU!! Thank you so much to @sandiaarts !!
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+ Alpha!Yuuji, who is the strongest Alpha in the city but never planned to become a leader. Until the former boss-Alpha dies and is succeeded by his cruel son, who puts the whole city under his reign of terror. That's when Yuuji's heroic instincts are triggered, and he decides to step up and claim the position as the ruling Alpha.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who you see for the first time during his fight for dominance in a back alley behind a nightclub where the packs are gathered to watch the fight that will decide who becomes their new leader. You get one look at this gorgeous pink-haired Alpha and already know he will win. Tall and buff, with firm muscles and a feral conviction in his golden eyes. A true Alpha!
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who wins the fight after just a few minutes. He lifts his face while pinning his opponent down, one hand on the man's head and one foot on his back. His golden eyes find you in the crowd, and you feel a shudder run through you, your Omega cunt slicking up just at the sight of this strong and brave Alpha. Your new leader, who you will submit to all too happily.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who is so attractive with his boyish good looks and that muscular, powerful build. He has such a pretty sunshine smile but also such a broad, tall body packed with buff muscles. His skin is littered with scars that show the feral fighter he is, making him look so sexy and strong that it causes the most primal needs to awaken in you. You want to offer yourself to him, offer your slicked-up Omega cunt to him so he can breed you full of his strong pups.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who finds you later on in the nightclub, where you celebrate his victory. Who smiles sweetly when you congratulate him on his win. Who is so kind and easy to get along with despite how powerful he is. Who tells you he hates fighting, but since he is unfortunately very good at it, he thinks it's his duty to use his fists to protect the ones who are weaker than him.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who makes your Omega cunt throb with his words. All your primal instincts scream that you need this big, strong Alpha who is so brave and kind. You feel dizzy when you smell his enticing scent, filling your nostrils with its sexy, musky smell of wood and sunlight and the deep, rich aroma of ripe cherries. You gulp nervously as you tilt your head to look up at Yuuji's gorgeous face and see the same craving you feel mirrored in his golden eyes.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who mounts you only a few minutes later. Bending you over a table in the backroom of the nightclub, his pants and boxer briefs hastily pushed down while he ruts feverishly into you from behind. Riled up from the fight and exhilarated from the victory, needing to sink his Alpha cock into a willing slicked-up Omega cunt to come down again.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who fucks you like the leader that he is now. Who leans down to cage you between his big buff body and the table, interlacing his large fingers with your smaller ones while he fucks into you, making you cream again and again on his fat Alpha cock. His canines graze your skin as if he can hardly restrain himself from marking you as his mate right then and there.
+ Alpha Yuuji, who presses his nose against your neck and sniffs you, inhaling your scent hungrily and moaning against your neck, "Fuck. Fuck. You smell so good, baby." His big, heavy body shudders behind you while you feel him pulse his hot seed into you. And you know at that moment that you want to be his. That you want him to be your Alpha and your mate. You hope he will claim you one day!
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who doesn't pull out and leave after your needy fuck, like most new pack leaders would. Many of them would go from unmated Omega to unmated Omega to show them that the new Alpha has a right to take them now. But Yuuji stays with you. His big, broad body slumps against you, his muscular arms wrap around you, hugging you while he kisses your neck, sweet and caring. His seed and your slick run down your thighs in hot sticky rivulets, and your pussy twitches around his gorgeous thick cock, instinctively asking him for more, as if your Omega cunt is begging her Alpha to mate her and claim her for life.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who tells you that he needs to see you again when he finally pulls out of you. He turns you around, a large calloused hand cupping your chin tenderly, and he captures your lips in a sweet kiss before he lifts you up and places you on the table so he can clean your pussy with his loving mouth, taking proper care of you, moaning against your wet cunt how sweet of an Omega you are.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who keeps you close after that first night and makes an effort to get to know you. He buys you flowers and chocolates and asks you on dates, making sure to appreciate you and not just see you as a willing and breedable Omega but as a woman he cherishes and adores.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who is such a good pack leader, kind and protective. He is so sweet to the little ones, playing with them and teaching them how to box so they can learn how to protect themselves. He also cares about the older members of the pack, telling them he looked after his sick grandpa for many years and, therefore, understands the struggles of the elderly and that they can always come to him and ask for help. He is a natural leader. A real Alpha. It makes him even more attractive in your eyes, and you catch yourself getting nice and slick for him anytime he is in the same room.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who makes your scent glands throb hotly anytime he fucks you, your body trying to lure him in, wordlessly signaling to him how bad you want to be his. How bad you want him to mate you. He growls brokenly anytime it happens and licks hungrily over your scent glands, making you cum instantly around his powerful Alpha cock.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who is so sweet and caring that he tries to hold back as long as possible before he claims you. Who fucks his balls empty into your sweet Omega cunt and grunts and growls as he tries his best to stop himself from forcefully claiming you as his mate.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who kisses you in front of the nightclub that belongs to him now, smiling against your lips while his strong arms hold you so tightly, pulling you against his tall, buff body, offering you a feeling of safety you have never known before. He tells you he loves you while he holds you in his strong arms, and you almost cry from the happiness you feel.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who reaches his breaking point that night after you both confessed your love to each other and pushes his cock extra deep into you, letting you get a little taste of his knot, making you sob in need while he groans in your ear: "I want to mate you so bad, cutie. Want to make you my Omega. I can't hold back much longer, sweetie. Want to mate you and breed you and cherish you and give you my pups. Fuck... please let me mate you! Please be my Omega and my mate!"
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who waits for your consent even while his muscular body is shaking from the effort it takes to hold back before he sinks his teeth into your neck and bites you with a mating bite that hurts and arouses you at the same time.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who mounts you again to seal your bond with another load of his Alpha seed. He fucks you deep and feral, claiming his mate thoroughly, making sure you know how much he loves you and that he is yours now and you are his. He moans and growls and tells you he will give you his knot, will give you his everything for the rest of his life, while mounting you so hard and good that you see stars.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, whose knot is so big that you are worried you won't be able to take him when you feel the first swelling at his thick base. But Yuuji is such a caring Alpha and such a sweet mate. He soothes you with his low, sexy voice, whispering the sweetest praise to you while he prepares you thoroughly for his knot. He will give you his all, even if it takes hours to prepare you for his knot. He kisses you and rubs slow, tender circles around your swollen clit, loosening your cunt with several orgasms on his cock before he allows his knot to grow and plug you up.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who makes you mewl and orgasm instantly when you finally feel his fat knot plugging you up, claiming you as his alone while he moans I love you's in your ear. His calloused fingers rub your puffy clit, making you squirt over and over again on his fat knot while he pulses his hot seed into you, sealing your mating ritual with both of your cum.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who kisses you deeply and tells you how sweet and beautiful you are while he slowly slips out of you after a night spent mating you. You sigh happily, so content and happy that you found such a strong Alpha and such a caring mate. Yuuji stays with you for hours afterward, refusing to leave your side after such an intimate experience. He holds you tightly, lets you rest and sleep in his strong arms, safe and warm in your mate's embrace, knowing he will take care of you for the rest of his life.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who is loved by his whole pack for his kindness and strength. A caring and protective Alpha. His large, calloused hands touch you with so much love and tenderness, but they can also deal the hardest punches against the ones who dare attack his pack. And if anyone tries to hurt his mate, Yuuji will see red and become a feral predator so powerful that his enemies will grovel before him and beg for mercy.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who won't start a fight without a reason. But he hunts down the ones who break the rules of peace and are cruel and dangerous to others. He kills if he has to, but it bothers him greatly to take a life, and he always seeks comfort and reassurance in your arms after every kill.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who comes back home to you after a deadly fight with bloody scratches all over his body, which will heal into a few more sexy scars that show his dominance and strength. There's a feral glint in his golden eyes, making them glow like two full moons, angry and unrelenting. The eyes of a powerful predator who was forced to unleash his fury against his enemies. A gaze that makes you moan and grab the bed sheets tightly, your legs instinctively falling open to present your panty-clad slick cunt to this strong Alpha in front of you.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who craves you badly after every kill. Who rips off his shirt and lets it fall to the ground, looking at you with that feral, primal need in his eyes while he opens his belt with one large hand, so riled up from the fight and ready to fuck his anger into the comforting wet heat of your sweet Omega cunt.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, whose buff body is bloody and sweaty from the fight. Veins standing out on his taut, flexed muscles. His fight triggered a rut, making his thick fat Alpha cock slap heavily against his firm abs when he frees himself from his trousers. The irresistible primal scent of his pheromones fills the whole room, making the slick run down your thighs even before Yuuji has laid a single finger on you.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who tears your soaked panties down, presses his face against your slick cunt, and growls wildly when he inhales your scent and licks up your sweet slick. He needs to fuck all his worries and anger into you. Needs you so bad to make things ok again. He growls a thank you after you tell him to let it all out on you, to fuck you as hard as he needs. "Don't hold back, Yuuji. I can take it. Fuck me as hard as you need, Alpha."
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who always fucks you harder after a kill. Using his strength on you and manhandling you with rough, calloused hands. He growls when he has you on all fours for him, with your cute ass in the air and legs spread, presenting him your pretty Omega cunt to claim and fuck. He groans behind you, low and feral, in full Alpha mode, giving your ass a hard slap as he splits you open around his fat cockhead.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who mounts you wild and hard, slapping your ass and fucking you with rough hard thrusts that go so deep that you howl with the most primal need and lust every time he ruts into you. He takes you in such a primal way, like an animal, hard and deep, while biting your neck and drooling all over your skin. He is so loud and feral, not holding back at all, fucking you unrelentingly from one orgasm to the next.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who only pulls out after he has exhausted himself completely, taking all his anger and pain out on your sweet, willing Omega cunt. You know that on those kinds of nights, he needs you to give him comfort, and so you pull him in your arms, hug him and cuddle him, and stroke his pretty pink hair, telling him he did the right thing and that you are so proud of him for protecting his pack. "You are such a good Alpha. And such a good man."
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who not only wants you as his mate, but also as his wife, giving you a double promise of always protecting and loving you. Now you wear his teeth imprint on your neck and a beautiful golden wedding band on your ring finger.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, whose need to breed is so strong that he practically begs you to please let him fuck his pups into you anytime he smells your heat approaching. Your fertile pussy always drives him insane, making him lick up your slick needily while shooting his first load all over the bedsheets and himself, unable to hold back with your sweet taste filling his mouth and nose.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who is the happiest man ever, when you tell him you stopped taking your birth control. "I want your babies, Yuuji. Want to give you so many cute and strong pups, just like their daddy." And your man instantly has you under him, pinning you to the bed with his heavy, muscular body, snapping his hips furiously, shooting load after load into you while thanking you. "Thank you, baby, oh fuck, thank you so much! I will give you so many cute pups, my angel! Will fuck so many into you!"
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who always breeds you anytime he claims you, now that he knows you want his pups. He fucks to breed. He wants a whole litter of cute little pups with you. He moans and growls ferally into your ear while he mounts you from behind and fucks you with such savage, needy, and deep thrusts that he almost breaks the bed.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who loves to put you in a mating press with you all needy under his heavy buff body, your knees pressed to your tits while he bucks his hips ferally against you, going wild at the thought of his fat cock so deep in you.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who wants to knock you up so bad that he is in a permanent rut now, triggering your heat over and over again, making you so wet and horny for him that you can barely walk anymore.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who has so much stamina that when he knots you, his knot stays inside you all night. Slow rolls of his hips while he is in you balls-deep, shooting thick load after load of his hot fertile seed into you, his balls so big and heavy that they slap loudly against your slicked-up swollen clit, making you cum over and over again until you are delirious from it, babbling how much you need him, "Please, Yuu, please make me a mommy. Please gimme your pups, baby."
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who hugs you in his strong, buff arms and kisses your neck and lips lovingly while his knot is throbbing in you and plugging you up to keep his hot, fertile seed deep in you, breeding his sweet wife so thoroughly while praising you the whole time. "Look at you taking my knot so well. Fuck, I love you so much, cutie. I can't wait to see your belly so big and swollen with our pups. You'll be such a beautiful mommy."
+ Alpha!Yuuji, whose seed is strong and fertile and takes immediately. He smiles brightly at you and hugs you tightly when you tell him you are pregnant. He goes out to buy materials to build a cradle immediately, so eager and excited to start his family with you. And then repeats the same thing a few weeks later when you find out he fucked twins into you on the first try.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who is always very protective but gets even worse when you carry his pups in you. Who growls at everyone who comes too close to you, always ensuring his mate and pups are safe. Who leaves his scent all over you to keep potential threats away.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who goes feral when your belly grows. He loves you so much, and it drives him crazy with lust and love to see that he successfully bred you, making you round and big with his pups, with his strong and chubby babies. It makes Yuuji so hard to see you like that. He has to take you every night while he caresses your belly and kneads your swollen tits, already milking a bit of milk out of them that he hungrily licks up.
+ Alpha! Yuuji, who pulls out of your cunt and cums all over your swollen belly because the sight turns him on so much.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who kisses and licks you clean afterward before he rests his head on your belly and talks to his little ones, telling them how much their mommy and daddy love them. And he looks up at you with those gleaming golden eyes full of love and tells you, "And I also love you so much, baby. Thank you for being my mate and my wife. I am so lucky!"
+ Alpha!Yuuji, whose genes are very dominant, so all your pups will have his pink hair. But you definitely don't mind because it looks so cute when your twins are born with a soft tuft of pink hair on their little heads! Your pups are two big, strong boys with chubby thighs and cheeks and loud voices. Strong, just like their daddy.
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who is such a proud mate and daddy. He never gets tired of spending time with his wife and his little ones. He gets up in the middle of the night to feed and cuddle his little boys so his sweet wife can rest. He carries the twins around in his strong arms, showing them off all proudly with a big happy smile on his face, cooing at them, playing with them, and petting their pink hair. And you watch him with happy tears in your eyes, so happy that you found such a good Alpha and loving husband!
+ Alpha!Yuuji, who beams at you and pulls you against his buff, tall body to kiss you thoroughly. Who doesn't let you go again because his heart feels so full and his cock is already swelling again, knowing that you are such a good mommy and such a sweet mate. He needs to bend you over the nearest surface and mount you again until your cute Omega cunt is stuffed with his fertile seed again, making more cute little pink-haired pups with the love of his life.
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FUCKKKKK HE MAKES ME FERAL!! I don't know why, but there is something about Yuuji that fits Omegaverse so well, in my opinion. My head is spinning!!! Thank you so much, dear anon, for sending me this ask! When I wrote my Sukuna Omegaverse story, I already low-key wanted to write for Yuuji (and Megumi) too, and you motivated me to do so!
Thank you so much for reading! I hope you liked Alpha!Yuuji and enjoyed this sexy little story!
Comments and reblogs would be very sweet!
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usedpidemo · 2 months ago
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Getting closer (Kang Hyewon)
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“All I’m saying is—” Hyewon looks away, drink in hand, taking a little sip, calm and alluring as ever, “if you only want to see me naked, then you could have just said so.”
You widely stare back, silent, indifferent—or at least pretend to be. It’s gotten you a fair amount of awards, after all. It’s not the slightest bit of convincing whatsoever.  
She laughs, softly, as if this was the expected outcome. “So I’m taking that as an admission.” 
Setting down the near-empty wine glass on the bathroom sink, Hyewon attempts to walk away, only to be stopped by a sudden pull. Your hand appears tightly wrapped around her dainty wrist, unwilling to let go. Your eyes aimlessly wander up and down the empty void that is her black dress. There are hardly any thoughts behind that predictably empty head of yours, only the simplest of desires.
You catch the subtlest grin forming on her saccharine lips. You fucking hate how she makes you feel. How she makes your heart race with every exchange.
Despite all the time you’ve spent together, you wish you got to know her better.
—————
The last year and a half of your career has mostly centered around one thing, or in this case, one person: Kang Hyewon. There’s also this drama starring your pairing as co-leads, and you’ve been promoting together, but your names make up more of the headlines than the very show. Your names are synonymously tied together akin to an actual couple.
Unsurprisingly, Hyewon is damn gorgeous. It’s how she’s getting the calls to begin with. Another one of those former singers turned actors looking to be taken seriously within the larger entertainment industry. Most never make it past their first project and fall back on their old careers, with some completely flaming out of the spotlight altogether. She’s an exception. A minor part here, a supporting cameo there—until she’s more than pleasant eye candy. A starlet who knows how to pick what roles would showcase her talents the most. 
She’s the perfect blend of beauty goddess and hotshot young star that the internet can get behind.
So it comes as a surprise when she’s casted as second fiddle to you, the first billing—and everyone comes away talking about her more. The scene stealer. 
(This plucky rival agent, investigating a case your character has been trailing for years, barely scraping by with the thinnest of clues, only for her to uncover the mystery only days after starting the investigation. The writing screams Mary Sue, but she acts convincing and vulnerable enough to escape the scathing think pieces that’s commonly associated with such characters. Not to mention: you both look damn good together on screen and during your public appearances.
It’s a team that sailed a thousand ships—both for your characters and in the real world.)
The consummate professional you are, you don’t think much of it. Your filming experience can only be described as businesslike. Except for the scenes where you’re together on screen, you’ve been separated at arms’ length, only exchanging words between takes to keep any further relationship from developing. It’s only during the press tour where you’ve finally gotten somewhat close.
Perhaps a little too close for comfort. Enough to make video compilations by overzealous fans who think you and Hyewon are really an item. The evidence is everywhere—in interviews, behind the scenes content, and on both your Instagram pages. At least, that’s what they want to believe. Everyone else brushes it off as two hot people being hot together, and not much else.
Here’s the thing: you love Hyewon—that much is true. The question now is: does she love you back?
Thankfully, your duo doesn’t get in the way of the show being lauded, despite making up a majority of its fandom. Positive reviews from both critics and viewers, especially in regards to your chemistry. The connection between you two is one in a million, something that can’t be built over years and years of working together. It also helps your performances sell the dynamic incredibly well—well enough to create those delusional shippers that form the bedrock of your partnership. 
Your names were positioned to go far during awards season. Not the consensus top pick, but as dark horse contenders to steal one every now and then. And while you both won your fair share of accolades, neither of you ended up walking away with the top prize. The conversation during the final ceremony of the year consisted primarily of the media and viewers talking about how your appearances together these last few months—and how you’re a match made in heaven. 
Everyone’s gonna miss this pairing—and so will you.
Now you’re back at square one. Having snuck away from the afterparty currently celebrating the dozen or so awards your show won earlier tonight, you’ve brought Hyewon back to your hotel room. Neither of you cared once you both lost your respective categories. The pundits thought you each only had the slimmest of odds to win, so why bother. Hell, you were both itching to leave as soon as the red carpet concluded. 
It’s all behind you now. You’re finally free from the glitz, glamor, and chaos of these vanity ceremonies and can really focus on what really matters—the pretty girl that you most likely won’t be seeing starring tomorrow. Your careers and interests couldn’t be any further apart: your main focus is movies, while hers are dramas. Both of you remain booked and busy for the next few years with different projects, with not a single one reuniting you two for the foreseeable future.
Back to Hyewon. She’s looking down at her wrist, tightly held by your hand. She allows it. You can feel her pulse. You sense that your hearts are racing in unison, tense and anxious.
“Are you gonna do something?” she questions, daring you to pull the trigger. She knows something you don’t—or maybe you do. You’re blinded by fear to realize it. “The night is fleeting. If not now, then when?”
Her words ring through your head. 
If not now, then when?
The same five words, ordered in the exact same way—etched in tiny letters on her skin.
You still remember everything—frame by frame, down to the last details. On screen, it’s implied. In your mind, it canonically happened. She took her shirt off, exposing herself and the scars of battle, and you were gonna go there. In your characters’ supposed words, ‘Clean’’ in your own unique way.
It was ultimately never shot. Bare minimum of fanservice and completely unnecessary, the director said. 
The tattoo sticks out, not only because of how it's deeply embedded on her otherwise pristine, lithe figure, but also because it represents the last 18 months of your career.
During this period, there are a lot of things that you’ve regret—and will regret. The fact you’ve kept contact with her during filming at a minimum, keeping your interactions strictly between takes and creating a negative air around you in her eyes. The fact it took you so long to exchange numbers, only getting it done during the press tour. The fact that you never return her messages when she constantly reaches out to you, whether through text or on your Instagram. The fact you haven’t thanked her enough times during your acceptance speeches, even when you mention her name in almost every other sentence. If there’s anything you want to admit, it’s that Hyewon is everything.
Most importantly, the fact that you fucking love her, to the point where you’d yearn moments when you’re not beside her—and you still lack the will to confess to her. Even right now. When she’s right at your fingertips.
Perhaps she knows this. The signs were there all along. How she often posts your red carpet photos together and tags you in them. How she also mentions you as much during her acceptance speeches and credits you as a reason for her improvements in acting, even referencing specific advice you’ve given her. The biggest hint, however, are the dresses she’s been wearing to these galas, most evident being tonight. Simple all black, tailor made for her frame, showing off her assets for flaunting to the cameras. 
Earlier, she led you to an empty part of the theater to say something in private. “I wore this just for you,” she said—and from that point, you had to get her alone, whatever it takes.
Really, Hyewon has no intention to leave tonight. She’s just waiting for those magic words. There’s no other logical reason for her to be here, other than for you.
She might as well be holding up a huge signpost with all her requests written in capital letters. 
“If you’re not gonna do anything,” she says, tone casual, slipping one strap of her dress down her shoulder, the one half of the fabric dropping a fair amount. “Then I might as well do it myself. I was hoping you’d take this off me—”
“Stop.” 
You grab her other hand, close to touching the other strap, the dress more than ready to fall down. She raises her eyebrows in amusement. Afterward, she puts the seized hand down, convincing you to release the grip. 
Another win for Hyewon. You’ve lost count as to how many times she’s been messing with you throughout awards season. Probably in the hundreds. Thousands if you count the interviews and little jabs during her speeches. Every mention of your name is an immediate sign of trouble. You can sense she’s enjoying every single moment, relishing the remaining time you have left. Meanwhile, it’s clear on your face that you’re stressed. 
But for what?
“If it hasn’t gotten through your thick skull, then I have no choice but to explain it.” Hyewon climbs atop the bathroom sink, strong enough to lift herself off the ground. She pours the glass with new wine; it’s not meant for you. Her attitude flips instantaneously like a switch, composed and readying herself as if it were another photoshoot. 
Taking a sip of the drink, she pours the rest all over her dress. It serves no purpose anymore. it’s undeniable that she knows what she’s doing. That elegant yet cocky smile is permanently seared into your brain. Someone this haughty shouldn’t be this beautiful and seductive. “You can stand there and waste the night away, or you can do something about it. All up to you.”
You can only sigh. Whether out of wistfulness or annoyance is up for interpretation. You can add taking her back to your hotel room and taking this role in your ever growing list of regrets. When it’s all said and done, it’ll definitely be as long as the career documentary they’ll make about you in 50 years.
What more do you have to lose? 
This will all be behind you soon enough.
You finally stop giving her the cold shoulder. “God, I really wish you weren’t such a tease,” you remark, pulling on the dress strap she previously slid down. “Because otherwise, it would have been so much easier.”
Hyewon seems to have taken your words seriously, because she suddenly kisses you—as in, relentlessly smothers you. Her arms wrap around your neck, slowly pulling you close into an embrace. She smells of alcohol and perfume. An unusual concoction that you can drown yourself in.
“Only if you say the magic word,” she says, gently laughing between kisses. The lower half of your face is full of pale lipstick marks. It was foolish to think she had turned a new leaf, knowing how intentional Hyewon can be with everything.
You’ve really got no other choice.
“I love you,” you confess, but in the smallest audible voice imaginable—hiding that reluctance behind your tone. 
Hyewon pulls herself back, smiling toothily at you, borderline snorting. Her expressions convey the idea that you told her a joke, which it may as well be. 
“That’s it? Doesn’t sound like someone who loves me,” she remarks, tone evidently disparaging.
“Fuck me.” The groan comes out instinctively, as if this wasn’t your first time getting burned like this. Your head is raised to the ceiling, asking the gods for an out.
“That’s my line,” she spouts, her response almost as instantaneous. Wit comes naturally to Hyewon. The countless viewers and interviewers who’ve laughed can speak on her behalf.
“You’re gonna turn everything I say into a joke, are you?” you ask, knowing you’ve willingly fallen for the easiest bait in the entire world.
“You’re gonna turn everything I say into a joke, are you?” she repeats, mockingly imitating your voice, much to your utter chagrin. This isn’t part of some romcom or a sketch. This is real. Everything comes back around to Hyewon. She laughs—basks in your suffering.
It’s the kind of trait that would leave you second guessing whether you really love her or not. As it turns out, the public loves celebrities with a playful sense of humor. Not even you are innocent—you’ve been caught red-handed on camera a few times. Hyewon doesn’t need to reaffirm herself.
But she would love to hear it straight from the source.
“Say it. Say it.” Hyewon is urging you—demanding you—as if it were a matter of life or death. Her hands are everywhere, gripping you by the cheek and the throat like her prized possessions, threatening to choke the life out of you. 
Truthfully, this was coming the moment she stepped through those doors for the first table read. Hyewon’s gravity is inescapable.
“Love you—Hyem, please—” 
Struggling to push back against her hold, you can tell that she’s taking pleasure in every moment she has you like this: wrapped around her finger, so whipped over her that it’s alarming. There’s little use in trying to be coy or subtle. If she wanted you to go down to the afterparty in nothing but your boxers, you’d fold in a heartbeat. She’s the kind of girl you’d happily end up in a scandal with, someone you’d throw your career away in exchange for one timeless night, against the advice of everyone who knows better.
She knows this too. Look at the coy grin spreading on her face. A smile perfect for the front cover of any magazine or commercial. It’s the perfect facade for the attitude hiding beneath.
“I love you Hyem,” you repeat, showing a bit more desperation and sincerity this time. You’re breathing against her neck, the idea of pressing your lips against her skin a dire need. It’s unfortunate you can’t make it look like an accident—as is the idea of your bodies sinking down on the bathroom countertop. “For the longest time, I wanted you, but—”
Only now do you come to the simplest realization: there are no accidents.
Normally, you should feel some shame for being this oblivious. How a girl like Hyewon is giving out all these hints, to the point where she might as well be spreading her legs wide and pointing down at her cunt with a colorful sign. Hell, a thigh is peeking through her dress, pressing on your leg right now. If there’s one thing you’ve learned about working with other actors, it’s that chemistry comes naturally—it can’t be taught.
And your bodies are doing exactly that. The friction between you can’t be any more tense.
“Then show me.” She sighs against your ear, pulling on the topmost button of your suit, pushing down the matching coat. Her leg extends around your limb, goading you to pull away, even though leaving the pretty sight right in front of you is the last thing on your mind. 
You can only breathe. Slow. Hesitant. There's not a lot of hours left, and you’re wasting more by taking your sweet time—resting your gaze on her pale shoulder, admiring all the little details. In essence, you’re doing the complete opposite of what Hyewon wants. She’s showing a little frustration, proving how much better of an actress she is than you. Imagine being in her shoes, beckoning to someone astronomically unaware for months. So much energy and effort could have been saved if she chose to leave you out to dry. If you weren’t so preoccupied with thoughts of her, the many ways this little scene can go, you’d be wondering why she’s this persistent. 
Maybe you’re just as important of a character in her story too, or you’re both stubborn in your own ways. Perhaps both.
None of that is your concern right now. You’re cupping Hyewon’s face, kissing her, nibbling down on her creamy skin, reaching up to her lips by the way of her neck, pulling on the strap of her dress little by little. In response, she’s whispering sweet nothings into your ear, removing your dress shirt one button at a time. It feels like you’re going through the motions, acting under the words of an intimacy coordinator and a director. Slowly but surely, it’s all coming together, until—
“Stop.” 
You pull back, noticing your shirt is nearly undone as you look past her and at the mirror. Both dress straps are halfway down her arms, the fabric a mess, waiting to be swept away. 
You raise an eyebrow, puzzled. “What’s up?” 
Hyewon tilts her head at an angle, unsatisfied. She’s staring at you intently, taking a moment to analyze you like you’re a problem to solve—which you are—before coming to a rather alarming conclusion. “You don’t seem like you want me that bad.”
The remark doesn’t register in your brain. “What do you mean—”
She yanks you forward for a deep kiss, cutting you off. Reciprocating her passion comes naturally—and so does everything else. The movement of your hands, taking lease of her back, tearing through the fabric of her dress, coming back to her cheeks, until you stop feeling cloth and register more flesh. Feeling her skin becomes your new addiction, something you can’t get enough of. 
Watching her other movies—for research purposes—you knew she was well endowed, even when they were not on full display.  Some of her previous gala dresses truly put a spotlight on her cleavage. Part of you thought it was editing trickery, a perfectly taken photo at the right time, or a bra doing the heavy lifting. All three even. But holding them now, with nothing in between, you simply couldn’t believe how well they’ve been hidden from you. 
Her tits fold, go flush, and her nipples stiffen at your touch. They feel so right—as if they were handmade for you.
“God, Hyem—” you breathe out, savoring the sensation of her mounds in your clasp, unwilling to let go. Her taut nipples jerk with every run of your palms. If only you could rest your head between them, but your current position won’t allow you. 
“They feel so good right?” Hyewon moans in response, shedding your unbuttoned shirt off your body and tossing it to the floor, taking lease of your muscles and back. Her dress bunches up around her waist, practically collapsing when she decides to get up from the sink. Although an expected outcome, you’re both surprised that you’ve managed to get each other’s clothes off.
And you’re only getting started.
Pushing you away, Hyewon meets you at your level. Gravity does the rest. She stands before you in nothing but heels. What a mental image to remember her after tonight. She leaves you frozen and trembling, jaw agape, your eyes in a daze, unable to find a place to settle your fleeting gaze on—until she rests her hands around your shoulders. You’re caught up in your own disbelief to meet her lovely gaze and that rather sweet smile, quite the difference from her bare state.
She lifts up a leg, pushing herself onto you for another passionate kiss. Taking advantage, her legs eventually wrap around your waist, bearing all her weight on your grasp. Despite her surprise attack, she’s feathery enough to carry around. It certainly helps that she’s not the heaviest girl you’ve lifted before; you have some experience—mostly unpleasant and usually backbreaking. Still, you’ll treat her like some delicate object that crumbles at the slightest touch. Something—or someone—you can’t ruin, or else you’d be ruined too.
You both end up in the living room, deeply engrossed in a fiery passion that’s too hot for cameras. Lifting her high, your lips find their way to her chest, pressing them in the place where they rightfully belong. Hyewon is stubborn, pushing your head further up to meet your lips in a direct, frantic kiss. Back and forth, you take turns between her tits and her lips, unintentionally slamming her against a wall, eliciting a few yelps out of her. 
It doesn’t bother you both in the slightest. You hold her there, kissing down her abdomen and ribs, coming to the tiny inked part of her figure. The same tattoo that’s been ingrained in your head since you first saw them.
You mutter the very words against her skin. 
“If not now, then when.”
They’ve never been so relevant till right now. You softly kiss the ink, silently thanking her for saving you from a lifetime’s worth of regret.
Hyewon winces, throws her head back, moans up to the ceiling. Her nails brush through your hair, then claw at your nape as you remain fixated on her tattooed rib. She deserves to be adored and worshiped.
“Look at me babe,” she murmurs, gently tilting you up, faint at your touch. Against your desires, you follow. “Put me down. You know why I’m here.”
You oblige without a second thought—and you’re both on a level playing field again.
Still, you can’t help but kiss her right after. She reciprocates the favor. You’re a perfect match. Even as you’re making out, you’re thinking of ways to get messy and get the jump on her while she’s preoccupied. 
It ends up being your biggest mistake.
Both of you wrestle for control over the other, a scuffle that ends up knocking down a few appliances and tableware. The sound of glass shattering rips through the hotel room floor louder than your collective moans ever will. For someone with a lithe figure, Hyewon proves to be much stronger than you were led to believe. It shows when you try to push her onto another table; you both end up crashing to the floor seconds later. 
From there, it’s whoever is the first to get up, and you knew it was all over from there.
Hyewon leads you into the sole bedroom, shoving you onto the mattress. Unrelenting, she slams onto you right after, pinning you down with her bare hands. Surprising her with your own strength, you reach for her raven locks through her ironclad grip of your wrists. Your lips continue to crash like waves against rocks, neither of you willing to back down. There’s a clear disparity between you: she wants you more.
To further prove her point, she presses her palms down on your chest, sitting over you upright, straddled on your lap. She’s never looked better.
Making quick work of your trousers, your cock is freed from its confines, only to be immediately caught up in Hyewon’s hand. Her grip spreads through your groin, turning breathing into an absolute nightmare. The one fear that’s been haunting your mind these last few months, finally realized. 
And it’s staring you down with an innocent yet wicked smile.
“You have no idea how long I wanted this,” she remarks, her sultry voice sending shivers down your spine. Arching down, she presses her tongue forward on your throbbing tip. Combined with the pressure she’s building with her hand, holes puncture through your lungs. And right on command, you’re leaking. She’s lapping your cock in circles, slow and agonizing, taking every little drop of precum seeping. You can only tremble beneath her, utterly defenseless. “Remembering when I was tapping your foot with my heel earlier tonight?”
She leaves you in such a dizzying spiral that you can’t even look directly at her, let alone formulate a reply. Meanwhile, her eyes remain fixed on you, doe-eyed with innocence, yet her actions are cruel. Breathing proves to be a struggle, let alone returning with a response. “What about it?”
“I wanted you to follow me to the bathroom. And I wanted you to fuck me in there.”
Honest to God, that was not the first thought on your mind. If anything, the presence of many proved to be the ideal shield in keeping yourself away from Hyewon. Losing best actor was the greatest blessing in disguise, as it meant you didn’t have to look straight into her magnetic eyes during your theoretical speech and make an embarrassment of yourself in front of hundreds in attendance, and millions watching on television. 
Now that you’re in bed with no way to escape, you can only accept your fate.
“I’m not the best at reading the room,” you comment, sheepishly shaking your head.
“Not surprising, honestly,” she says, rewarding your candor with a kiss—on your tip. Then another. More heartwarming than arousing, if anything. “Anyone ever told you that you’re kind of a dork?”
“Not the first time I’ve heard it from a girl,” you say, in an attempt to show some wit, only to be met with a stiff grip on your cock. “Ah—fuck—”
A bit more force and Hyewon could break you in half with her mere hand alone. She’s cold, calculating, and cruel. Her expression seems apathetic, yet deep down, you can tell she’s having so much fun toying and teasing you, stealing what little semblance of willpower you have. And to think she’s this demure, sometimes funny celebrity with a certain image that’s universally admired by many. 
Behind that gaze, she’s thinking of more ways to further ruin you.
“I don’t think a dork like you has been with other girls,” she remarks, leaning forward to tease a kiss, only to leave you dry. “But looking at this cock—”
She stops to admire your shaft once more. Ultimately, she can’t help herself. She has to give your tip another ceremonious flick with her parched tongue in appreciation. Two, actually. If she doesn’t stop, you’ll soon be deep in her throat, and you know she’s not letting you go. Thankfully, she finally regains sight of what she wants in the first place.
Lifting herself ever so slightly, Hyewon takes a deep breath—then slowly melts into you. 
It’s a car crash you can’t look away from. It’s inevitable, but you’re completely powerless to stop her. You can only groan in agony as your bodies intertwine, creating a union that only she can break. Inch by inch, you helplessly watch as Hyewon slowly takes you into her suffocating heat. The sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before: vicious, intense, and painful. 
It doesn’t help that she’s taking her sweet time, keeping you on edge for what may as well be an eternity, bracing for the certain explosion she’s going to leave in her wake. 
“Oh—fuck—it’s so perfect,” Hyewon throws her head back, her jaw dropping slow, every word delivered in a near-inaudible sigh. Eventually, she buries herself in you deep to the hilt—and she keens. “That—that’s it—that’s the fucking spot—”
Your hands cling to her waist, your maw similarly agape, breathing tensely as the pleasure slowly courses through your muscles. “God—you’re fucking tight—”
She hums in return, satisfied by your response, before losing herself in the sensation of your cock impaling her—and she begins to move.
As you fight the urge to cum right then and there, Hyewon slowly lifts herself off your lap, your cock reappearing with a fresh coat of her drenched pussy, before sinking back down. She rips the breath right from your lungs, while you’re forced to shut your eyes. Anything to keep your brain firing as the pleasure rushing throughout your body sends you into overdrive. 
You’re an outlet of ecstasy, a conduit for her to loosen all her pent-up frustration and lust. Her palms grip to your thighs, keeping you in place—as if you’re in any condition to move anywhere except for her whim. She’s crashing into you at a punishing pace as a result of keeping yourself away for so long. And she’s being open about it too: “Why did it take us so long—ugh—”
You can only moan back. Truthfully, you’re wondering the same thing too. 
As your eyes alternate between wide open and completely shut, you catch glimpses of Hyewon using every inch of you to fill her wanton pussy with cock. When she’s not cursing or screaming your name, her moans fill your ears with sweet, sultry music. It’s a sound not of her high class image. She’s riding you like it’s life or death, like her heart will stop beating if her cunt isn’t being stretched out.
With every bounce, so do her breasts. Up and down, settling into a rhythm, forming a hypnotic motion that your eyes get lost in. Your obsession reaches a point to where the movement of her tits stirs you on, reigniting your tired muscles. You can’t lie there and be a helpless viewer any longer.
And so, you meet Hyewon halfway, matching the grind of her hips with your thrust at the apex, setting her alight. This particular stroke. The hot sensation. It utterly shatters her. Her voice cracks. She trembles violently, giving you breathing room to sit upward and lean close to her chest. 
So while she staggers back, overwhelmed by your cock spearing her cunt, you go down on her succulent breasts, squishing your face between them. Despite having Hyewon’s body all to yourself, the friction between your bodies creates this wracking storm that drives you insane. It isn’t enough that you’re feasting on her tits, that her boobs are bouncing so hard it’s downright pornographic, and that she’s screaming her heart out in response to each stroke. This will be headline news tomorrow. Yet, none of that is your concern. You have to pour everything into her. It’s now or never.
“Fuck yes—oh fuck—fucking take me—fuck—” Hyewon’s riding your cock, forcing all the air out your lungs, rendering you speechless. Doesn’t matter, you’re drowning in her slick and her tits, pounding away with twice the effort. She’s swearing through her tongue like she’s a cop in a crime picture, biting down on her lip in a flimsy attempt to restrain herself, but anyone with a good ear nearby could have easily identified her voice through the four walls of this hotel room. Knowing her, it’s intentional. She’s determined to put you through a world of trouble, leaving you with no other choice but to shut her up.
And you’re going to do just that.
You end up yanking her by the waist as your bodies repeatedly collide with each other. Each impact the equivalent of a cosmic explosion, the aftermath echoing through the room. The sound of skin slapping skin fills your ears louder than what it seems in the movies. Sex with Hyewon is much, much better than in your fantasies. Here’s another thing that can’t be found on camera: her soft pleas begging you to keep going, interlaced between harsh whines and airy moans that can’t be faked.
“God, I’m gonna fucking cum, Hyewon.” There you go, your silly side showing at such a serious moment. Everyone knows you don’t proclaim your impending climax. Rookie mistake. You’re not shooting a porno, but you might as well be with how hard you’re fucking her. She can’t help but cackle even as you relentlessly pound into her cunt. What should be a moment of weakness immediately gets brushed aside as you hold her when she slams down, and you finally fall apart.
Impaling your cock hilt deep inside Hyewon, you’re digging your palms deep into her soft flesh, unwilling to let go. She rests her head beside yours as you blast her with thick, warm cum. Her prolonged, saccharine-sounding moan is nothing compared to the loaded groan that ripples through the room. The supplication she makes, demanding you to fill her with every little drop goes through deaf ears. Your dick seems to have heard it loud and clear, though. The amount you’re filling her is enough to rip through her body violently too. She follows with her own peak afterwards, hitting a previously unheard octave higher, your bodies finally melting into one. 
Just like that, she’s clinging to you like you’re her personal life support, completely drained of all her strength. 
The ecstasy lasts for a brief moment. The fall off happens too soon for your liking. Like her, you’re sapped of energy and you fall down to earth with Hyewon in your arms. The end comes—not with grandiose drama or spectacle, but by a calm, uneventful stir.
You should be done at this point. It’s been a long day. You’ve been up as early as sunrise, spent hours behind makeup and measuring tape for a suit you won’t wear more than once. Smiling comes natural, if not downright fake; in front of the cameras, on the red carpet, on screen, and even during the afterparties. Every time you step out in public, there’s an image, a reputation to uphold. You’ve done this a dozen times in the past few months alone, bearing a lifetime’s worth of and it never gets more comfortable or easier. It’s a miracle you haven’t cracked or had a public breakdown, even though your mind is calling for it.
And yet, all that labor and agony is worth it for what you have now. The awards, the recognition, the adoration—but most especially the girl. What are you now, taken out of a story. One that feels all too familiar and done to death, but it never grows old or tired. 
By all accounts, it should be a happy ending. 
Except you’re not done. You’re not satisfied, and so is Hyewon. Even though she’s settling down in your embrace, resting her head against your heartbeats, mumbling these sweet nothings about how much you’ve ruined her and fucked her to shreds, she’s quietly begging for more. It isn’t about keeping a sanctimonious image anymore; it’s about how far you’ll push her and use her. Your throbbing cock buried inside her cunt says it too.
If there’s anything you’ve learned about acting, it’s that one take isn’t enough.
Like a damsel in distress, you scoop Hyewon into your arms. Through what you might consider a second wind, you carry her into the bathroom again on wobbly legs, stepping into the shower, showing that you’re ready to take your relationship a step further. You’ll hash out the details in the morning—if she hasn’t left by then.
The sound of running water serves as background for the airy, lewd noises that quickly fill the shower. 
Hyewon feels incredibly soft to touch. Pliable in your grasp, like a doll to bend, twist, and use at your whim. You’re squeezing her flesh, fondling her mounds tightly till you’re seeing red everywhere. Her tits, her shapely ass, and everything in between. Kissing down her body, giving every little part its much needed attention. You’ve fucked her to pieces, yes, but she’s still housing a divine figure that deserves the same level of praise. 
With two fingers stroking at her cunt, she’s keening, her head tilted up to meet the relentless downpour rushing down over your bodies. Her voice is in tatters after an hour of tireless screaming, in addition to all the mindless chatter from earlier tonight. Part of you wishes to have taken up her offer. Something this good shouldn’t be kept secret, but you’re more than selfish enough to keep Hyewon all to yourself. 
Your raging impulse gets the better of you, and you slap her tits from behind. She yelps a cry of pain and pleasure. The recoil and sound activates something in your brain like a sleeper agent. You do it a second time, then a third. You stop counting after, indulging yourself in the satisfying noise of her mounds smacked over and over, every squeal, every strike equally as gratifying as your cock slamming into her pussy. She’s clinging to the walls as a respite, her body shuddering vigorously, but you don’t give her a moment to breathe. It’s what she would have wanted: to be used and taken like a ragdoll.
Hyewon screams again when you swing her around, lifting one leg around your waist, and slam your cock inside her. No pleasantries, no talking through the process—only a desire to fuck. Burying your face against her neck, growling into her skin like a ravenous beast, you hammer away without care for neither your comfort nor hers. You’re counting the hours, minutes, seconds before she disappears from your life, and you’re gonna make sure that years from now, she remembers this night in particular.
You’re too engrossed to see her expressions twist in impossible ways that average humans can make. But that’s the point: Hyewon is no ordinary person. She’s one actress, something that can be found in others who are more talented and have more resounding qualities, but more than that, to you, she’s everything. The clench of her cunt on your cock continues to invigorate you and push you further. With every thrust, she jumps and sends aftershocks coursing through your veins. God, you love how incredibly well she fucking takes it, and the slightest tilt of her lips struggling to form a grin reinforce this. You’ve got nothing else to say, really; you easily lose yourself in your own lust, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
It doesn’t take too long before you feel it again. The end. It’s approaching faster than you can react. You knew it wasn’t going to be a drawn out affair, but you’re so desperate to reach that high, no matter how brief it may be. It was too good to pass up, and you’re beyond waiting a second more.
You’d give everything up for even a single minute longer, but the period of bargaining has long passed you by.
“Gonna cum again—fuck—” is all you can muster, your first words after a long while. Her pussy feels so good to form coherent words. Lust has utterly consumed your brain more than anything. The entire time, Hyewon’s mewling, keening in every direction, trying to find purchase on the walls or the shower door, only to fall a few inches short. She ends up coming back to you, hanging on for dear life. You’ve never let up, terrified that she’ll magically disappear into nothing at any second. 
Acting fast, as if you’ve got a ticking bomb in hand, you draw your cock out, coated in a thick sheen of your own cum and hers, pumping yourself with a few strokes of your hand until you finally explode. The shower washes down the milky white blot you’re unloading on her skin, never leaving a permanent mark. It does, however, bring you back to the place that began your undoing.
The tattoo on her rib. 
Water wipes the cum blocking the view. Despite those same five words occupying your mind for the last few hours, it still hits like a fresh revelation. You hear her voice repeating them inside your head as you come to your senses, your lust being satiated—for now. Even when Hyewon is completely broken before you, reduced to a quiet pile of flesh. One hand on the surrounding wall, the other in limbo, her leg still coiled around your waist, forcing oxygen into her tired lungs wherever she can. 
With the ‘quick’ shower done, and after hardly any cleaning was made, you carry her back to the bedroom. 
You don’t even make it past the living room before your legs finally give up. You end up crashing onto the floor together before you both finally call it a night.
—————
“This is your fault you know,” says Hyewon, drawing circles on your chest, over your calm heartbeats. “I’m supposed to be in London tomorrow for my table read. And yet I’m still here. My flight was five hours ago by the way.”
It’s already high noon when you finally regain consciousness, your head still spinning despite not taking more than one alcoholic drink the night before. Hyewon’s doing marginally better, having woken up 30 minutes earlier. No wonder it feels so hot; her body is snuggled up on you, your limbs tangled. Despite the urgency she’s speaking about, she doesn’t seem to be interested in moving any time soon.
At least you’re awake and sensible enough to fire back. “Who’s fault is that? I wasn’t the one inviting you to come over and have you fucked senseless.”
She chuckles into your skin, little ripples forming where her lips are gently pressed. “And I wasn’t the one who spent the last 18 months saying we’re just friends.”
You’re already lying flat on the floor, but the rebuttal only makes you want to get up only to fall back down. So you settle with an expressive sigh. 
Hyewon laughs. It’s what won over millions, including you. You’re taken back to that fateful day you first met. Right then and there, you knew there’d be no one else like her. If given an opportunity to go back and change a few things here and there or, you’d do it over again, mistakes included. Last night was worth all the waiting and teasing. 
“So—about that show,” you lean up, pushing her closer to your face, “What was it again? Something about you being a nymphomaniac? Delete what?”
“You mean Delete This? Let’s not.” 
Mention of the premise alone is enough to set her gummy cheeks on fire. For someone whose career has been built up on mostly more general audience friendly programming, leading a sexual soap opera is quite the jump.  
She buries her head on your neck, embarrassed, feeling guilty. “Yeah. I mean, last night was—different, you know? I’ve shown my tits and body already, but I’ve never had sex—on screen before.”
You should have known. She needed a reason to get in your pants without your working relationship only centering around your bodies. And those were clearly stand-ins based on how her face is never shown during her older scenes.
“Jesus, Hyem. If you wanted to have sex, you could have asked anytime. You have no idea how annoyed I was when they scrapped our scene last minute. It was only you taking off your shirt too.”
“On the bright side, we didn’t have an intimacy director getting in the way, right?”
She does have a point. Still, your personal cold war didn’t need to last 18 months before either of you would make the first move.
But with all that tension a thing of the past, the chains are unfettered. Now both of you have the ability to take this little secret in any direction you desire. You could simply be a workplace couple; it’s been the story of your year so far. Or you could take things a step further. The possibilities are truly endless.
Hyewon’s cheeky grin slowly reforms, her hand snaking up to cup your cheek. “Shame we only had one night. I could spend the rest of the day here, but—” she huffs, “I’m running late. Too bad I won’t get to have this cock for a long, long time.”
You lift an amused eyebrow, barely able to keep your new cockiness from showing. “Will you, though?”
She’s taken completely by surprise. “What do you mean?”
“Check your phone.”
After rising to her feet, Hyewon walks over to the console table where her purse is set. Fishing her phone from the handbag, she scrolls through the apps, her attention di–vided between the screen and you on the floor, finally getting up as well. 
Her stare then lingers on the phone, as if whatever headline of the day has caught her attention. 
Next thing you know, she’s grabbing you by the chest, dragging you back to the bedroom before shoving you back onto the mattress—right where you belong. Pinning you down and dead to rights, Hyewon mounts herself on your lap, your cock pressed against her aching core, ready to receive a fresh beating.
Some jokes can go a little too far.
“You fucking asshole. You mean that—”
“Yep.”
“And it’s not—”
“It’s not.”
You can feel her hips slowly grinding against yours. You’re gonna love—and hate—the next 18 months with Hyewon.
“I’m going to kill you. And I mean: kill you.”
“No better way to go out.”
—————
(A/N: Thank you for the commission! That Hyewon dress is so ripe for material, and I had to incorporate her tattoos into it somehow. She doesn't show them quite often—heck, she hasn't publicly addressed them even once, I believe. That little nod at the end is for everyone still waiting for Delete this to return. At this point, a reimagining or remake must happen first before the next actual episode because good God my writing back then versus now is night & day. Even comparing the last update from 2022(?) to today is also radically different in style. I'm still interested in reviving it; it's just a matter of when, not if. Thank you for reading!)
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lowkeyerror · 23 days ago
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Help With The Curriculum pt 2
Agatha Harkness x Reader
Word Count: 2.4k
Notes: Smut, strap, dry humping, choking, fingering, 2x use of daddy in non-sexually explicity context, dirty talk, lap-sitting, mentions of edging, mentions of exhibitionlism, mentions of overstimulation, Rio Vidal 😩
Summary: You sit in on one of Agatha’s lectures and enjoy some time with her during passing period... however that time with Agatha might have attracted the attention of someone else.
An: Not promising a fully fledged fic but ill keep posting parts of this until I lose interest. Also couldn't help but add Rio... eventual Rio x Agatha x Reader smut but idk if it'll just be one part or permanent in this fic 🙇‍♀️
Previous Part | Masterlist | Series Masterlist
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You end up spending Saturday and Sunday at Agatha’s. It wasn’t planned, but it was hard to leave. You already felt so comfortable with the woman. The only reason you found yourself back at home had to do with the papers you were supposed to grade Friday.
You spent most of your Monday grading the work. Images and thoughts of the other professor poked at the back of your mind, but you tried to stay focused. You figured that you could text her as a reward for finishing the grading.
Your phone dings as you’re on the final paper. You think about letting it wait, considering you’re almost done, but it dings again. The impulses get the better of you and you pick it up.
Agatha: I have an 8am tomorrow
Agatha: If you want to sit in on my lecture
You smile, knowing that you’d be in her classroom bright and early to watch her teach.
Y/n: I’ll be there
Agatha: Your class starts 15 after mine ends. It’d probably take you 5 mins to walk over…
Y/n: Probably, why?
Agatha: Well you said you wanted to fuck me in the lecture hall. You think you can get me off in 10 mins?
Y/n: I can do it in 5 ;-)
Agatha: We'll see about that professor
You now had a better reason to look forward to your Tuesday. After those messages you didn't have it in you to further grade the last assignment. You opted to just give that one lucky student an A.
For the rest of the day your mind wandered to how you were going to use those 5 minutes to get Agatha off. You couldn’t help but smile as dirty thoughts filled your head.
You’d be playing mind games from the second you stepped inside of her classroom. Your usual casual classroom attire was being quickly abandoned for something that better fit your title of professor. A grey 3-piece Herringbone suit. You wore your hair back, out of your face.
You had a pocket chain clipped to your pants, while a watch sat on your wrist. There was something special packed in your pants that you planned on using to tease the other professor.
You filed into her classroom with the other students. Opposite to her approach in your classroom, you sat in the back corner of her lecture hall. You wanted her to see you. With your legs spread open and a hand tentatively resting high up on your thigh.
Your other hand held up your head as you locked your eyes on her. When her eyes met yours, you could see them narrow at your appearance. You sent her a polite smile, which you could tell she was fighting not to return.
She briefly welcomed her students back and then  immediately got into the lecture. There was an assertive flip to her character that intrigued you. You could get lost in her tone of speaking. She hardly looked at you, but when she did, you were always readjusting the crotch of your pants.
“Your exam is tomorrow; multiple choice and 3 short answer questions. All of the answers should be in your notes, I’d study them thoroughly. You are dismissed.”
Her classroom cleared much faster than yours had the previous Friday. You had waited for the last student to leave before rising from your seat. You took your time locking the doors to the room, before heading down to Agatha.
You could tell that she had a sly remark on the tip of her tongue, but she didn’t get a chance to speak as your lips attacked hers. You were rough as you kissed her, complete disregard for pleasantries.
You pressed her up against the desk. Enough to where she could feel the strap through your pants, she moaned as you slowly rocked your hips. No words were necessary, only the sounds of your breathing.
Your hand reached around her front, eager to plunge into her wetness. Once you make it past her waistband, you have to hold yourself back from taking her bottoms completely off. Her panties are ruined.
“Fuck, I made you this wet, just sitting there? You saw my hand on this big fake cock, and couldn’t help but make a mess of yourself, professor?”
She throws her head back as you rub her clit, “Look so sexy baby, I want you inside me.”
You chuckle darkly into her ear, “All weekend wasn’t enough huh? You just want me to fill you up every day.”
You keep your thumb on her clit and easily push 2 fingers inside of her. Your free hand loops around to rest on her neck. She tilts her head back to be able to meet your lips. You can feel her clenching around your fingers already.
“Desperate fucking slut, so needy for me. I’d take you like this for hours, till that puddle in your panties becomes a fucking ocean. Make you cum enough to coat my strap in your juices. Have your filthy mouth suck it off, just to spread you open and shove it in that hungry hole. The way you’re sucking up my fingers, fuck I know you need my cock buried inside of you.”
She begins to pant, “I want it. I want your cock, please. Please I’ll do anything, just let me have it.”
You pout, “Aww we don’t have time right now Aggie. I need you to cum on fingers so I can shove them in your mouth and go teach my class.”
She whines and starts moving with your fingers, “Y/n.”
You kiss her forehead, “I know baby, I know. You have to be good for me. Do what I say and I’ll make it worth your while, professor.”
You squeeze her throat a little tighter and pick up the pace with your fingers. Agatha lets out a shrill scream, causing you to cover her mouth quickly. You feel her slump against you, causing you to slow your pace before fully removing your fingers from her.
Before you can move away from her, she grabs your wrist, guiding your fingers into her mouth. She allows the tips to hit the back of her throat while keeping eye contact with you.
Your fingers fall out of her mouth and you delicately grab her by the chin. You peck her lips sweetly.
“You owe me one hell of a reward, Professor L/n,” she mumbles.
Her hand trails down the front of your suit pants until she finds what she’s looking for. She squeezes the toy lightly, palming it with her hand.
“I keep my promises, Professor Harkness. I still have a few to make good on, but in the meantime, I have a lecture to teach,” you wink at her.
She steals on last kiss from you, “Don’t be late.”
Agatha playfully smacks your ass when you turn around and you laugh at her antics. As you reach the exit of her classroom you turn back for a second, “Oh, and Professor Harkness. I really enjoyed your lesson.”
You leave her lecture room with a smile on your face. On the way to your own class, you find yourself walking in stride with fellow history professor, Rio Vidal.
“You’re getting awfully cozy with Professor Harkness.”
You shrug, “She needed some help with the curriculum, wanted a fresh new perspective.”
The brown eyed woman hums, “Hmm, I’ve never known her to ask for help.”
“Well, maybe you just don’t have much help to offer her these days,” you match her tone.
“I heard she sat in on your lecture, mind if I do the same?” She disregards your last statement.
Again you shrug, “Feel free, Professor Vidal.”
You feel her gaze trail up your side profile. It lingers on your pants, and you have to stop yourself from readjusting.
“You can call me Rio.”
“Y/n,” you say curtly.
Once at your classroom, you already have a few students waiting outside. You let them in and head to the front of the class. Rio takes a seat in the front corner of the lecture.
As promised before break you spend the whole class reviewing. The last thing you do is hand out the assignments you graded yesterday. You sit at your desk, eyes drifting over to Rio.
“Well, I can see now why everyone is so enticed by you. You’re charming, smart, and well-dressed. No wonder students and professors alike are always muttering about you,” she walks to stand in front of your desk.
Your face heats under her gaze, “I’m hearing about my  reputation more now than ever before.”
She stares at you like she could devour you. Her hands rest wide on your desk and her head drops to look at you.
“I don’t think she could handle what you have to offer, cupcake,” Rio leans into the desk.
“What are you talking about?” You sit back straight in your chair, keeping a calm attitude.
“Oh, now you want to play dumb professor,” she leans in further to whisper in your ear, “I heard you two early. Trust me kid, I know what Agatha sounds like. There’s only one reason I’d hear her making those kind of noises.”
“Jealous or something?”
She smiles widely shaking her head. She walks around to the side of the desk, “Not of you. Like I said, I’m very familiar with Agatha. I’m less familiar with you."
She gets on her knees and crawls over to you. Her hands wrap around your leg to rest on your knees, “ I need to know you better.”
“Don’t even think about it Vidal,” you scoot back away from her.
“I'd listen to her if I were you, Rio,” Agatha’s voice echoes across the room.
Rio only smirks and stand to her feet, “Hello, my love. Long time, no chat.”
“And I’d like to keep it that way,” Agatha quickly makes her way to the desk. Her hands rest on your shoulders as she stares at Rio.
The brown eyed woman frowns, “How long are we going to play this game, Agatha?”
“Play time is over Rio” Agatha says.
Rio shakes her head, “You fucking some hot, younger, girl, doesn't mean shit. She only fucked you as a rebound Y/n.”
“You’re only saying that because you wished you fucked her first,” Agatha shoots back at Rio.
“If I had 5 minutes alone with her, she would’ve taken me over the desk,” Rio glares at Agatha.
“You always did have a thing for sloppy seconds,” Agatha returns.
“I take it you two have a past,” you interject.
“Present, and a future, cupcake,” Rio winks at you.
You stand up, “I’m not your cupcake, Professor Vidal. I only plan on saying this one time, so I hope you’re a good listener. I. Don’t. Like. Sharing.”
“Oooo daddy runs a little hot I see,” Rio teases you.
You can feel your jaw twitch, “You’re a fucking brat.”
Rio bats her eyelashes at you, “You going to tame me, daddy?”
Agatha cuts in her tone stern, “Rio, leave now.”
Rio whines the blue-eyed woman’s name, “Agatha.”
“Out,” Agatha reinforces.
The woman huffs out an air of irritation before leaving the classroom.
“You know I figured you hooked up with Professor Vidal, but I didn’t picture her being such a brat,” you sit back down when you address Agatha.
The woman sits in your lap, facing you. Her hands play with the hairs on the back of your neck. She can feel the dildo pressing against her, but refrains from moving.
“She’s untamable,” Agatha says dismissively.
You scoff, “No one is untamable.”
Agatha rolls her eyes, “Trust me, Rio lives for the thrill of the punishment.”
“You punish her a lot?”
“I suppose I did,” Agatha meets your eyes.
“Tell me about it.”
Your hands found purchase on her hips. You guided her slowly back and forth across the length of the strap in your pants.
“One time I made go out with a toy inside of her and no panties. I spanked her for every wet spot she left when she was sitting,” Agatha says and you guide her a little faster.
“More.”
“I slapped her cunt until it was nice and tender and then I made her bounce on my strap until she came 7 times.”
You press Agatha down firmer on you, “Another.”
You were pulsing at the thought of Agatha dominating Professor Vidal. Her bratty attitude had upset you, but it had also turned you on. You wish you could put her in her place.
“I edged her for 2 hours until she nearly collapsed after squirting harder than I've ever seen anyone squirt in my life. Seeing her face down in her own juices, eyes fluttering, tongue out trying to taste herself on the floor. God, that was my favorite.”
You groan wanting more than fuck Agatha right here on your desk. She’s about to cum again while haven't came once today. It feels you are torturing yourself.
It's as if Agatha had read your thoughts. She sticks on of her hands down your pants. She slips it past the harness to feel your clit.
“You want to cum with me, professor,” Agatha smirks as she rubs your clit.
“Fuck yes,” you moan, laying your head on her chest.
It didn't take much more for you to cum together. Your breath was ragged, and your hunger for each other was only partially satiated.
“Listen up, ‘Mrs. I don’t like sharing’ if you’re going to try to become brat tamer of the year, you aren’t doing it without me,” Agatha says placing a kiss on your cheek.
She attempts to get up, but you hold her place, “Fine, when she comes to see you,  call me. I want us both to have fun with her.���
Agatha laughs, “She’s irritating in the way you just want to fuck it out of her, isn’t she?”
You nod, “But you can’t let her know that. Her ego is too big, that’s why she’s bratty now.”
Agatha agrees with you, “Good point, I have to go teach my next class, but I’ll see you tonight. Your place, for my reward.”
She kisses you sweetly, once more  before exiting your classroom.
Now you had two things on your mind. Agatha’s reward and your opportunity to punish Rio. Both things that you were very much looking forward too.
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entitled-fangirl · 14 days ago
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All is fair in love.
Cregan Stark x wife!reader
SMUT
Summary: Cregan hates when they fight. He loves when they make up.
Warnings: fingering, breast play, doing stuff in public (the woods), orgasm denial, etc
Masterlist
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………………………………….
Cregan hated disagreements with his wife.
He was the Warden for gods sakes and still the little woman questioned him.
But worse than the arguments themselves was the first attempt at making up with one another. Especially when neither side wished to apologize.
They often found themselves at standstills, prompting a new argument atop the old ones.
But when one finally caved?
That was often Cregan's favorite part.
"I have a wager then," Cregan offered, trying to ease the tension of their previous fight that had yet to be resolved.
She sighed, her jaw set harshly as she leaned against his broad chest. "And what's that?"
His hands stretched out to brush his horse's neck, forcing his chest against her back roughly so he could whisper lowly in her ear. "The bet is this: who can stay silent longer?"
Her brows furrowed. "That sounds ridiculous."
He placed a finger over her mouth. "Quiet. Or you'll lose."
"And what do I win?"
"What do you want?" He asked.
She was thankful that they were alone in the forest or all of the North might have heard her racing heart.
"I want you to admit that I was right," she said immediately.
"That set in your ways?" He mocked.
"And," she added. "I want a place on your council."
"You have a place on m-"
"- I have a place as your wife. That is hardly a place. Northerners do not listen to wives. Give me a true place on your council."
He ran a hand up her side, staring at the curve of her neck as he contemplated her tall order.
Perhaps a difference in opinion wouldn't be all that bad.
"Fine."
"Fine," she tutted. "And if you win?"
He ran his tongue over his top row of teeth. "We'll see when we get there, won't we?"
"We won't," she seethed, still leaning on him.
"A shame you married a quiet man," he teased, letting his hand roam over her stomach.
"Quiet, my arse." When his hand began to wander over her breast, she huffed, "Cregan, w-"
"Shh, we've started," he teased further.
So this was his game? Very well.
She rested her head against his chest as they rode, letting Cregan's hands wander wherever it pleased him. 
Which was anywhere he knew would please her.
It started innocent, a brush of her breast, a brush down her thigh, a breath against her neck. 
The only sound was the horse's heavy steps and the sound of the wind rustling through the remaining leaves on the trees.
And though she stayed quiet, she'd be lying if she said his touch didn't get to her.
Particularly when he grew bolder.
He slipped a hand into her riding pants, the button coming undone. The cold air made goosebumps break out over her exposed skin.
When his hand grazed over her small clothes, her breath hitched.
He knew he had a chance then.
He delicately slipped under the band with one finger, teasing it across the fabric until he let his entire hand go with it. She shifted her weight, clearly fighting back a sound.
When his cold fingers brushed over her sensitive clit, she instinctively grabbed his wrist, her entire body shuddering with the sensation she tried to fight.
Her grip on his wrist stopped nothing, for his fingers began to gently rub circles. Her mouth opened in an attempt to fight off a sound.
Cregan's head rested against her shoulder, a breathy chuckle sounding when he touched a rather sensitive spot that made her arch away from him.
He wanted to tease her vocally so bad.
He traveled lower, letting his fingers now gently prod at her, spreading her just to get a reaction.
Her eyes were closed at this point, fighting whether to scold him or rock against his hand.
He watched her hands shake when he pressed two fingers into her. Her eyes were shut tightly, and her lips were being bit to pieces. 
He was sure he'd have her by now, and he was beginning to grow frustrated. He practically forced the reigns into her hands. And now with his own free, he snaked it up her riding tunic. His icy cold fingers caused goosebumps over her warm stomach. 
He pressed the cold digits against her, desperate for a vocal reaction but no such luck.
But he did get a shiver from her. 
He took it gladly, now continuing his track up her stomach with one hand, the other now pumping lazily into her.
When his fingers grazed over her breast, she sucked in a breath. She was beginning to hold in everything now and he gently pulled and brushed at her nipple.
He decided it was now or never. And like a sudden wave of confidence, he pumped his fingers in and out at a steady pace, rubbing at her clit with his thumb. His other hand pulled at her other nipple now, and his lips sucked just under her jaw.
Her entire body jerked, prompting a small squeak of her voice out. 
And he stopped. 
His fingers paused.
And a broad smile pulled at his lips against her neck.
"That's unfair," she panted as her hips still rocked up for friction.
He didn't give it to her, keeping his hand close to her body. "I fail to see how."
"Cregan, please," she whined, placing a hand over her tunic where his hand rested. "Please, please, I did your bet."
"Apologize."
She whined. "It can wait-"
"-Apologize," he said again.
She bit her lip in defiance. His finger flicked over her nipple, making a small moan come out of her mouth. "Fine! Forgive me!" She begged. "I was wrong!"
"-And rude."
"And rude."
He kissed her neck. "And selfish."
"And selfish."
"And you understand you were wrong?"
"Yes! Yes! Just-"
"-And," he pushed further, "you understand that I'll still give you a place on my council?" 
If she heard the words for what they were, she didn't quite show it. "Yes! J-"
"And when we return to our chambers, I'm going to fuck you until the morrow?"
"YES!" She finally yelled in frustration. "Cregan! Ju-"
"-I know," he cooed. 
He resumed his movements from before, completely enjoying the sounds that now openly spilled from his little wife's mouth.
"Fuck," she moaned. Her free hand wandered behind her to the back of his head. "Fuck, you're s-so good to m-me."
"Am I?" He teased lowly.
"So good. You're so good! I… I think I'm gonna-"
His hands paused again. 
A deep pitiful whine came from her, her body now leaning forward in a little slump. "I said what you wanted," she whined.
"You did," he agreed sternly. "But I won the wager." He kissed the shell of her ear before purring into it. "And I've decided that you cannot come until we reach our chambers. Can you wait until then, pretty girl?"
She shifted, trying against just to get friction. "You're cruel," she whispered.
"All is fair in love and war, my love," he grinned, lazily tracing over her clit again.
He took the reins back, guiding the horse the long way home.
……………………………….
Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar@kidd3ath @yujyujj@misswynters@cosmosnkaz@sithapprentice@kaniromi@lovemesomevesey@its-jackie-bb@thorins-queen-of-erebor@kingdomzeldaquest@nyxbranwenn@callsignwidow@a1lexh-blog@alyssa-dayne @ethereal-athalia @ashovertheriver @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @dozcan123 @wangjiangelangel @kamitargaryen @aegonswife @lv7867@helpmedecideaname @cherryheairt @classicsimpforaaronwarner
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thedragonkween · 8 months ago
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King Baldwin IV Headcanons! ♔🤍♕
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A/N: So, here we are. I could not resist this mysterious and tormented king's charm. His silky voice makes me dream! These are some headcanons I've collected off the top of my head. The Reader is implied to be female and married to Baldwin IV. Please, do feel free to hit my inbox to ramble about our king because I'm literally dying of pining and yearning.
tags: female!reader x baldwin iv of jerusalem (from kingdom of heaven); reader is married to baldwin iv of jerusalem; fluff; slight angst towards the end
wc: 1150k
reccomended songs to listen to while reading: "Summertime Sadness" by Hildegard von Blingin; "Right Here" by Ashes Remain; "Blood, Sweat, Tears" by BTS (orchestral version)
"Many are the tales of the King Baldwin IV of Jerusalem and of his Queen. Despite the varying accounts of their deeds, each one of them agrees on one aspect: the King of Jerusalem loved his Queen dearly, and the world is richer for it".
Baldwin IV is mysterious, intense, valiant, noble and utterly devoted to you, his Queen. But what does this devotion look like?
Firstly, he would believe in you like no other and would always be ready to give you his best advice whenever the weight of your responsibility becomes too much. Foreign rulers would soon learn of your qualities - there would hardly be a piece of correspondence where the King of Jerusalem does not praise the intellect and insight of his dear wife. He would glance at you from time to time, while you both work at your desks sharing the burden of paperwork, silently thanking God for having sent him not only a beautiful, but reliable life companion as well.
He values your opinions greatly and has the utmost regard for your views on political, military and state matters. Disagreements happen, yet your overall values are aligned, which is why Baldwin understands your vision and where your point comes from. During the discussions regarding complex decisions, he would let you speak and explain, then he would offer his honest thoughts on the matter, should he see another, different way from yours. 
Playing chess is a favorite way of spending quality time together in your chambers, away from the chaos of the court. If you know how to play and are proficient at it, he would delight in the thrill of challenge, as he would finally have found a true equal. If you do not know how to play, he would teach you with patience, taking pride whenever you make an unexpected and astute move. He would be such a nerd while he explains the rules to you and would be delighted to see how your mind works when devising a plan.
"Congratulations, dove. You have a checkmate."
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I can also see Baldwin taking you on long rides, if his health allows it. He would sweetly check the reins and saddle on your horse before mounting on his steed and leading you away to enjoy the cool early morning breeze, before the heat of Jerusalem becomes too sweltering. You would have a nice and secluded spot to enjoy and to pretend that you are a couple of young lovers without responsibilities and crowns weighing on your heads.
Your presence brings him safety and comfort, which is what would convince him to remove his mask when he is alone with you and the physicians. He would especially love to rest his head on your lap as you gently caress his curls while the physicians tend to his skin. It is a sacred moment. He does not know how he went so long without your presence during this delicate time. Speaking softly to each other, you would distract him from the pain with talk of your hometown, fairy tales from your culture, or even simply reflecting on a happening of that day. On these occasions, you learn how to best take care of him, watching the physician tend to his arm while you tend to the other, delicately dabbing the cloth over his wounded skin. Baldwin feels so protected and safe in your presence. He thinks you are God’s greatest gift to him.
Now, jealousy. Baldwin knows he boasts the honor of having an exquisite flower such as yourself to call his own. As do powerful men and courtiers from distant lands. Many covet your loveliness as one would a precious gem. Should one of these foolish people try to take you from him or even stare at you for too long to be considered proper, they would be met with a pure force to be reckoned with. Should a knight’s eye linger on you for too long, he would be quick to put him in place in his signature glacial, elegant way. Before long, everyone learns not to disrespect the Queen consort of Jerusalem.
“Perhaps you would have understood my point, had you not been so insolently ogling my wife”. He takes out his whip. “On your knees. You will pay for insulting the Queen”.
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He would protect you with his life. He swore to protect Jerusalem and, as its Queen, that includes first of all you. Should a courtier doubt your devotion and mistake it for thirst for power, or should he learn of an orchestrated attempt on your life, he would waste no time in employing his best forces in your service to defend you.
His enemies and templars alike fear him, yet with you he is as gentle as the morning breeze that gently caresses Jerusalem. This powerful king who makes armies tremble and kingdoms shake is the same person who holds and kisses your hand (when in public, bringing your fingers to the lips of his mask), who silently admires your loveliness from afar and sighs to himself, who longs for your warmth after a tiring day. 
He would write you letters. Lots of them. And not always when he is away. Maybe he just liked the way the sun reflected in your eyes that morning. Or maybe when you helped a servant, he was moved by your kindness. Your every action inspires him, so much so that he has to let out his thoughts on paper. You have a pretty wooden box brimming with delicate papers penned by Baldwin in your honor. He is not only the King of Jerusalem, but also the king of pining, of yearning. Even when he has you near, he yearns for you.
I love to imagine him letting you accompany him to battle. He would love it too, in theory. You make him so strong, the both of you would be quite the sight, meeting your enemies head on, as one, donning your best armors. Yet, at the same time I cannot imagine him resting easy knowing that a loose arrow, a desperate soldier seeking glory for killing the Queen of Jerusalem, or fatigue and sickness could take you from him. It pains his heart to be parted from you, yet he cannot risk your safety. Instead, Baldwin would trust you with ruling the kingdom. He has absolute faith in your intelligence, willpower and cleverness, especially after all he has taught you about running the realm. He longs for you every second he’s away from Jerusalem, yet his heart is at peace knowing his kingdom is in the most capable hands.
When he feels that his time on this Earth is nearing his end, he calls for his most trusted advisors, including Balian and Tiberias. He would ask them, almost begging, to protect you always, at all costs, when he is no longer there to do so. Balian and Tiberias would exchange a quick glance to each other, vowing to respect their King’s wish until the very end.
“Protect her. Please.” “Always, my Lord”.
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Poems, songs and stories would be written in honor of your love even centuries after your passing. Many tales would speak of Baldwin IV of Jerusalem and his Queen. Different pieces of art, such as paintings and ballads, would inspire people from all over the world to find a love as devoted and unshakable as yours. Until the very end.
All in all, to love Baldwin means knowing your time together is limited. As is the time of all creatures on Earth. He would beg you to go on after his passing, to live for him. He shall wait for you and protect you from above. Until the very end.
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1800titz · 2 months ago
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ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ — ᴘᴇᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ (ꜱᴏꜰᴛ)
ROLL OVER | boyfriend!Harry (couples costumes gone wild)
The dalmatian/fire fighter duo runs a little deeper in the bedroom after the party.
★₁₈₊
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ROLL OVER as the final installment to the KINKTOBER projects. Based on this ask.
If you enjoy this, consider checking out my patreon masterlist, constantly being updated, with loads of exclusive content. If you would like to see the other KINKTOBER projects, do so here.
CONTENT/WARNINGS: couple's costume gone wild. pet play (soft). soft dom. praise. leashing. collars. use of "puppy" as a pet name (pun unintended). oral (f to m). dumbification. dom/sub undertones.
WC: 1.7K
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“Yeah,” Harry breathes and shifts his hips with a subtle flex that nudges a little more of him past your lips, cradling you close by the shape of your jaw and petting his palm across your heated cheek. 
You swallow, nostrils flaring, and you let the congealed dust— of this particular disposition— across your lashes lure you under a little harder. Let it crush you under the soporific wave of its gravity. 
But you don’t miss the way he swallows, tugs a little harder on the polypropylene end of the dog leash wrapped taut around the knobs of his naked knuckles, and purrs, “Such a good girl, puppy.”
You blink up at him. At the unstilted paradigm of your insatiable hunger (eating, eating, still so hungry for him); bare stomach flexing, shoulders swelling, jawbone tucked and face ducked to watch you swallow around him. Watch and feel you work your little tongue in crescent shapes against the underside of his cockhead. 
You’re drooling. Slobbering, like a needy, little puppy, and your spit dribbles across between the wedges of your knuckles, where you cup him around the base and squeeze every time he throbs. 
It’s good. It’s really, really good.
He sprawls back against the chair but keeps his chin tipped. Staring down at you— the way your lips suction around him and the way your eyes pool under your fluttery lashes with a dew. Inkpools unwavering. Unrelenting. 
His shirt is discarded, so all his ink is on show. The way it breathes alive under the tension of his musculature, his rippling abdomen when you dip the tip of your tongue into the slit on his head; moving, dancing over his skin. 
It feels dirty. Borderline gaudily pornographic; you, on your knees in that careful nook between his split thighs, with his suspenders dangling across his lap. The big, utility boots on his feet, either side of your haunches. The pried zipper on a set of work trousers, slouching low on his hips, multi-faceted into a costume. 
He’s heavy on your tongue. Takes up too much room in your mouth. Leaking and throbbing when you duck your head to take him just a little deeper, a little more.
“Christ,” Harry murmurs. It sounds a little dark. Hardly over a whisper— you make a wet, ugly sound around him and blink back up. 
From your angle, there’s this pastiche of sovereignty to him. Like blue-collar regalia; half-shed firefighter’s rig, shape of his face chiseled in self-possessed stolidity—
Save for his eyes, the little cinch in his jawbone. The glint in the charcoal vats, the sharp carve your lips make, the way it wobbles when his teeth grind together a little harder. Your tongue seeps out over your lower lip when you take a deep breath through your nose, open wide, and take him nearly to the root. 
The sound that crawls out of Harry is so battered that all you can do is claw into the fabric on the apex of his thighs and let your eyes screw. 
His cockhead bludgeons at the gummy lining on the back of your throat, and you’re sure the phlegm is collapsing in little broken pieces like a mirror shattering under the weight of a hammer. Spuming out over his face in creases and rapture. But you can’t look. 
All you can do is try to swallow around him when the hand that was on the side of your face glues to the back of your crown, his fingers tangling into your hair. His knuckles bleach a little whiter with the strain of the leash, the way he holds you in place. 
(When his palm moves, it smudges one of the little tar-black spots you painted on with a brush, across your temple.)
You can hear that he’s groaning, pressing himself into you and folding praise in with the shape of his fingers scratching at the back of your skull. Things like, “Yeah— fuck— just like that, sweet girl,” in rich husks that simmer across your porous bones and trickle when your shoulders shake. When your toes curl under you. But he holds the leash a little tighter for the angle, and the makeshift collar around your throat gets a little more taut—
Really, it’s all his fault. 
Taunting, Can’t be my proper puppy without— the lead he delicately clipped onto the cheap, old hot topic choker you dug out of the closet to use as a collar. The way that he kept his knuckles wrapped over the handle and his knuckles in his pocket at the party. Toting you around like a pet, keeping you rooted to his side when he settled. Tucked to the swell of his massive shoulder. 
The way he told you to stay like a dog when he went off to refill your drinks, the way he patted your head upon return to find your soles glued to the same spot. Scratching behind your ear derisively, fingertips riling a shudder across your shoulders. 
Such a good girl, you are, saturated in artificial, satirical delight. Corners of his mouth curling, the jeer dripping off the corners of his eyes. 
(Here’s your treat.)
It started as a joke. Mocking for the sake of watching the heat froth under your skin, across your cheekbones, the ruckled bridge of your nose. Faux praises and the condescending gravity of the lead across the base of your neck. The subtle tug into an isolated pigeonhole of a docility that soaked across the crown of your head. 
The mushroomed ridges of his tip bludgeon a splutter out from between your sopping lips, and more saliva oozes out and trickles across your tacky, wet fingers. 
You need to hear it again, need to hear him say it, that itch festering in the noxious tangle of your arousal when you rise on your haunches a touch to duck your chin and press your nose to the wiry smattering of hair bedding around the root of his cock—
“Fuck,” Harry drawls. Guttural, heated—
Varicolored phosphenes fleck behind your lids like constellations in the yawn of a mesmeric, caliginous sky. 
“You’re so good, sweetheart,” he grunts, hums, hips tensing and canting up into the wet heat of your mouth like it’s an undiluted reflex to an itch, feeding his cock deeper— “Gonna cum down this pretty, little throat f’you keep sucking my cock like that.”
You rest both palms on his thighs. Twist your fingers into the fabric until it’s soggy with spit. Gag around the swell of him until he wrenches you back with his fingers under the collar, at your nape, and leaves you sputtering for air with your neck craned. When you blink your lashes apart, your eyes are wet. Bleary. Burning like the back of your tongue, the soft lining at the back of your mouth, where the only place left to cram further is down into your esophagus. 
He looks like a hedonistic cover page for a pornographic issue. 
The coarse strip of dark hair from his navel pools in the bed of curls nesting the hilt of his cock, and his thighs are split in this kingly way that makes you dizzy. It’s vertiginous, staring up at him from your knees. Meaty shoulders, one burnt umber curl hanging to eclipse an eyebrow, and his cock is so spit-slick. Wet, and shimmery, and stupidly thick, sealed in his fist. Throbbing. Your spit puddles off onto his heavy sack, the sodden fabric wrenched apart by the zipper, and you watch a little, pearlescent bead drool off the tip when he squeezes and twists his palm up. 
“Want it in your mouth?” Harry muses. It’s a subconscious maneuver; canting forward on the hinges of your joints with your swollen lips parted as he drags the pad of his thumb across the blurting pre-cum and smears it over his frenulum. “Want it bad, don’t you?”
The way he pulls on the end of the lead isn’t sharp. It’s subtle, but it corners you into nestling your mouth against his cock. Against the swollen shaft, cockhead pulsing and leaking out over the sloping bridge of your nose. 
“Beg,” he tells you. It’s soft. The wisp of a breath; a sigh when you smush your cherry mouth to the little vein that rides up the underside and turns baby blue beneath the crown. 
But it’s chock-full of the command given to an animal— beg, and I’ll give you a treat. It makes you sizzle down to your marrow. His lips curl loosely into a lazy grin. So debauched, around the shape of his cock, coated in your own saliva, pressed to your face. 
“Go on,” he smiles, “Let me hear you whine for it. Show me what a needy, little puppy you are.”
The words sink into your underbelly and leave your hands cresting for surface-purchase under the spindrift. They slip to his knees, and tangle into the fabric there as your lashes flutter. 
“Please,” you breathe, mouthing the word along the shape of his cock. Your lashes are still fluttering. Batting. You scootch forward a little, scratching into the firm muscle under the nomex, and let him smear his shaft across the tip of your nose, tarnishing the borders of the snout you painted on.
He hums. His thumb catches on the corner of your mouth, just as you start to paste an open-mouthed, suckling kiss onto the underside of the root. Your tongue smudges out against his sack. 
He’s unconvinced— you watch it in the way his brows notch, hear it in the rumble that stems from his chest when he grips his cock by the hilt and taps it against you. “Come on, baby. I know you can do a little better than that. Really work for it, hm?”
“Please,” you say, rocking your hips. “Want it bad. Wanna keep sucking you. Please, please.”
A hand tucks into your hair. The fingertips there scratch into the spot behind the shell of your ear softly, and the sensation draws a shudder over your shoulders. You feel on fire. Molten, under the weight of his gaze, the unresistant pressure on the lead, the patronization that trickles off his tone.
“Go on, then, puppy,” Harry murmurs, finally, and loosens the white-knuckled, taut grip on the leash enough for you to clamber back, “Take me back into your mouth.”
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no-144444 · 3 months ago
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married man- l.hamilton
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Day 4 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist
summary: Married? Maybe. But why does everyone else need to know? 
pairing: lewis hamilton x indycardriver! fem! reader
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Lewis smiled as you walked into his driver’s room. It had been literal months since you’d last seen each other in person, months since you’d been in his sights in general, and a year since you’d been at a race. 
“Don’t you look pretty,” he smiled, wrapping his hands around your waist as you chuckled. 
“I could say the same for you,” you smiled, bringing a hand up to play with his hair. “Get ‘em retwisted recently?”
He nodded. “Had to look good for you,” he joked. 
You laughed. “You’re too good to me.”
He pressed his lips to yours, and man, did it feel right. You hadn't been with him for months. You missed your husband, and he missed you right back. His hands slid lower, gripping your ass as he sighed into your lips. “Missed you so much,” he mumbled. “Too long to not see you.”
It had been a very long time. You two lived together in Monaco, but you were successful in your own right. You were part of the Indycar racing series. You loved Indycar, and truly had no intention to pivot into F1. You were an American after all, born and raised out in Marfa, Texas. The seasons were never going to match up, but you and Lewis worked damn hard to make your relationship work, and work well. You texted everyday, called every second day for at least an hour, and made it a habit to see each other at least every 4 months. You’d gone longer this time, 6 months, since both of you were too busy with work or holidays or something else. But now, the Indycar season is over, you were the victor, and you planned to come to the rest of the F1 races, under the guise of being Carmen’s friend, not Lewis’s wife. No one really knew you two even knew each other, let alone got married 2 years ago.  
“I missed you too,” you smiled as he pressed kisses down your neck. “We can’t let it go this long again.” 
“I promise it won’t,” he sighed. “Missed having you here. It’s been a tough fucking season.” 
“I know baby,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m sorry.” 
“It’s alright,” he shrugged. “Ferrari better be the right move next year.”
“It will be. You’ll win your 8th and then you can come be my WAG in Indycar,” you smiled, making him laugh. 
“Always with the solutions,” he chuckled. “Who says I’m settling with 8?”
“Me. You’re getting old, baby. If you want little Hamiltons’ running around, then you’d better be at home to take care of them,” you smiled, though stern in your tone. 
“Yes ma’am,” he smiled. “Man, I love you.”
“I love you too, now, I’ll see you later, yeah?” 
“See you at the finish line my love,” he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek before you left. 
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He’d done it again, another win, somehow. Through the fucking Austin heat, he’d pulled through with that piece of shit strategy from Mercedes. You cheered in the paddock, all cameras on you, but you didn’t care. He’d won yet another GP and you were hardly going to gently clap. 
You ran up to the Parc Fermé with Carmen, both ecstatic at the result (George got P2). You watched in awe as he left the car, celebrating with the team. You’d missed his latest victory in Silverstone and you were delighted to not have missed this one. He ran over to the team, searching only for you. 
“Where’s Y/n?!” he shouted over the cheering. You grabbed at his arm and smiled when he finally made eye contact with you. Suddenly he helmet was pulled off, his lips were on yours,  you were over the barricade and in his arms. 
“Lewis!” you scolded with a smile, pulling away. “What are you doing?”
“Celebrating with my beautiful wife,” he smirked. 
It was difficult to stay mad at him when he was looking at you like you hung the stars just for him. 
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Transcription of Lewis Hamilton’s GQ Sports interview:
GQ: So, Lewis, another win in Austin this time, how did it feel?
Lewis: It was amazing, I mean there was just so much riding on the moment, and it gave us the extra points to get up to Ferrari. There’s such a great atmosphere at places like Austin, especially since it’s a Sprint race and a Feature race, it means a lot to get to win both. 
GQ: And now we’d like to talk about the obvious elephant in the room
Lewis: And what’s that? (chuckling)
GQ: Your secret relationship with Indycar winner Y/n Y/l/n?
Lewis: It’s Y/n Hamilton, actually, and yes, what about it?
GQ: You’re married?
Lewis: Past 2 years, but we’ve been dating for 5. Best 5 years of my life. 
GQ: How did you keep this from the press?
Lewis: Well, we’ve always been the kind of people who do our own thing, and we never really felt the need to be super open about our relationship because of that. We’re both introverts and we both enjoy what little privacy we can have in our mad world, and I think that’s another reason we didn’t tell anyone. We’re also not stupid. Sometimes relationships don’t work out, it’s happened to everyone, and we didn’t want to tell anyone until we were serious about each other, and by then, we were engaged and while we became less careful with hiding our relationship, we’re naturally private people, so it just… never slipped out I guess (shrugging). 
GQ: And what has your reaction been like to the reception of your relationship?
Lewis: (chuckling) It’s funny to see how the internet sees us now, y’know, it’s pretty amusing to see the edits and the theories and the people swearing they’ve known from the start. Honestly I’m really enjoying it. So is she. 
GQ: How did you two meet?
Lewis: I think it was actually Austin. Whenever we’re in America we usually get roped into meeting the Indycar side of our teams, if we have one, and she was just… there when I went to the track. It was so ridiculous, I was asking everyone who she was, and like, everything about her, it was bordering on embarrassing. 
GQ: What drew you to her?
Lewis: She’s just one of those people you meet once and know you can’t live without. She was so kind, and she was helping another team with their car because she’s an engineer, and she was literally being told off by her boss right then and there, and all she said back was, ‘If they have no car, they have no race. They’re not even close to us in the championship, all I’m doing is helping them put the thing back together. Have a bit of empathy’. I knew I was a goner. I just wanted to know everything about her. 
GQ: She’s a woman of the people? 
Lewis: She’s always helping people. We’re philanthropists when we’re not racing and she teaches free classes on engineering in the deep south to get kids out of poverty. They don’t even know who she is, she’s just their teacher, same as anyone else. It’s pretty incredible stuff. 
GQ: Wow, that sounds amazing. She sounds like a very incredible woman.
Lewis: She is. 
GQ: Finally, why did you keep this from everyone?
Lewis: Why shouldn’t we? When you’re in the public eye, everyone knows everything about you, and you’re just supposed to deal with that. We both just wanted something for ourselves rather than to broadcast absolutely everything. I’m deeply uninterested in giving the media more things to write about, and so is she. The only media about us we should be hearing is our race results, not who we’re dating and I think we’ve forgotten that in the past few years. It’s all become quite the popularity contest, and I’m getting tired of playing it.
GQ: Thank you for your time.
Lewis: You too.
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