#failing another perfect all by yourself handsome?

[legendofrhythm]

These freaking guys

[alicentofhightower]

being the targtower’s youngest sister would include…

pairings: platonic!alicent hightower x daughter!reader, platonic!aegon targaryen x sister!reader, platonic!helaena targaryen x sister!reader, platonic!aemond targaryen x sister!reader

synopsis: what it’s like to be the youngest daughter of the green queen.

includes: reader being the only somewhat normal targtower, i went overboard on aegon’s are we surprised, might be ooc, sorry for how short alicent’s is i wasn’t feeling much inspo for her

a/n: one of my favorite things about alicent’s dynamic with her children is that they all represent a part of her: aegon, being used for politics, helaena, her innocence that she used to have, and aemond, her rage and thirst for power. so i decided to have reader represent alicent’s devotion to her family and her “duty”. hotd is so weird abt character ages so for my sanity aegon is 20, helaena is 18, aemond is 17, and reader is 16 in this. forget daeron pls

Alicent

Alicent has incredibly complicated relationships with her children. They are mirrors of her anguish, but her blood nonetheless. She will protect you and your siblings with her life, if necessary, but she also cannot look you in the eye without a pit of guilt settling in her stomach.

She feels nauseous when Viserys has you betrothed to a Lord from the Crownlands, but apart of her is satisfied with the match, though only because it means you will be allowed to stay in the Red Keep instead of leaving her.

She is just as gentle as she is with Helaena as she is with you. You are one of the only good things that have come from her. She cherishes you. When word of your pregnancy spreads through the Keep, Alicent orders an abundance of maternity gowns for you from Myr. She will always, without fail, offer you a guiding hand when going up large sets of stairs.

By all means, she is not a perfect mother, but she does what she can. She gifts you lots of her own accessories, like the hairnet she wore during Aegon’s second nameday celebration. Helaena is her “dearest love”, and you are her “sweetness.”

Trying to include you in her own private matters is one of the only ways she can spend time with you. She takes you to the Sept with her when she can, though her eyes are always averted from you.

That is one of the other strange things you’ve noticed about your mother; she can never make eye contact with you. Perhaps it is because you are with child just as she was at your age.

When the time comes, she cannot be by your side to hold your hand while you give birth. It’s improper. But she is overjoyed that both you and your son are healthy.

— “You have done well, my sweetness,” Your mother whispers, voice soft and melancholic and warm. Grand Maester Orwyle, bless him, had propped you up on great plush pillows after you’d finished your labors. He’d quietly congratulated you and helped you get comfortable in your bed, then had left you to rest.

She sits on the edge of your mattress, right by your side, thumb gingerly tracing your cheek. The forest green she’s clad in brings out the auburn of her hair. “The babe is a beautiful one. A handsome son for the realm. I am… proud of you.”

Articulating her thoughts has never been her strong point. It is the hour of the owl now. The only sounds you can hear are the padding of raindrops against the tall windows in your chambers and the crackling of the hearth.

“Aegon’s birth came quick for me as well,” She mutters, almost to herself. Peculiarly, she clings to the little ways you are alike to one another; they are fading as the days pass by. Her brows furrow as her mind begins to race.

Your firstborn sons’ births had come with ease. You were both married off far too early in your lives. In girlhood, you had both favored naive stories of brave knights and pretty ladies and romance. You both committed yourself to duty to further the family—

She stops the list she’s making in her head there. Far more resolutely than before, as if putting a wall around herself again, she kisses your forehead and retracts into herself.

“I shall leave you be. Good night.”

Aegon

For Aegon, news of a new sibling is unsurprising. It’s the same old thing to see his mother waddling around the castle, belly swollen. He’s a little indifferent when you’re born.

As a teen, though, Aegon is certainly the type to smack you a bit too hard in the training yard and then shush you, begging for you to hit him just as hard before you wail too loud and one of your mother’s handmaidens hear and alert her of it.

It makes him feel shameful, the first time you see him drunk, stinking of the whores of Flea Bottom and sweat. You promise to not tell anyone of it, if he, in exchange, does not do it again. He still does. You still do not tell.

After the events of Driftmark, you are the one to cut his hair short. Seeing Aemond bloody and bruised had frightened you, caused you to weep in front of the crowd in the great hall, and you’d tearfully asked Aegon if you could sleep in his bed together that night. He forces you to help him trim his waves the next morning as “repayment”, though he did not actually mind it.

You grow closer as you become older. To Aegon, you are the only one who has a semblance of faith in him; your mother was constantly repulsed by him, as was your grandsire and own father. Aemond had given up on him a long, long time ago, and Helaena focused on the children far more.

On his better days, Aegon likes to fly on your dragons together. Seeing you windswept and almost free is strangely satisfying for him; he misses when you both hadn’t been burdened by what your parents had put on you. In the dead of night, he likes to imagine what life would have been like if he hadn’t been forced to marry Helaena, and you your “fat, old husband”, as he put it.

Speaking of, he’d made a great fuss at your wedding. That was the angriest he’d ever saw you; he’d drunk himself half to death at the celebration afterward, made a fool of himself when he got into a fist fight with one of your husband’s brothers. Even the bards had stopped singing to stare at the spectacle. You’d almost lost your voice that night from how loud you’d yelled at him, asking when he’d ever think of anyone but himself, cheeks flushed from deep embarrassment.

“You know of my apprehension when it comes to large events such as these, and yet you cannot steel yourself for one night for my sake? What will you do when Jaehaera is married? Light the castle aflame?”

(You do not know the reason he’d done such a thing was to make such a big scene your consummation ceremony would be an afterthought. That, and the fact he was drunk and angry.)

Some part of him feels guilty when you get pregnant. He knows, deep down, that he had no part in it, and he could not control your fate, no matter if his efforts were weak or strong. But he was still your elder brother, was he not?

One day, while you sit in a rocking chair and he plays with the twins in their nursery, you tell him, “I should like for my son to be like you.” Aegon says, quietly, that yours will be better than he ever was, with you as his mother. He vanishes back into the Street of Silk soon after that.

One of his best qualities is being able to make light of anything, and he does just that after your labors, laughing at how disheveled you are and kissing your forehead. It’s hard not to laugh with him.

Days later, at his coronation, you are the first he looks to for approval, after your mother. The subtle nod you give him makes him wonder how you would’ve reacted if he had been successful in running to Essos. He hopes neither Aemond or Cole told you of what he’d said.

After becoming king, Aegon grows to value your input more and more. On his council, he feels you are the only one to genuinely listen to his concerns and thoughts when it comes to winning the war, and so he ignores the disapproving looks the men around him give him when you come to the meetings.

He does not mention your dragon when discussing battle plans, almost seems to ignore it when Lord Jasper brings you up; your dragon is great and strong, and he knows he will have to utilize you one day, but he refuses to think of it until it’s absolutely necessary. His mind has already been spoiled by what he has seen in brothels and taverns, and he imagines it will only further be by the sights of war. Aegon will do everything he can to avoid what happened to him happening to you.

The assassins Daemon hired infiltrate the Red Keep. They kill his son, leave with his head in a sack. Aegon rages and drinks and rages. He will not allow even you to see his tears, but he cannot stop them from soaking the cloth of your dress when you hug him tenderly, as if afraid he’ll slip through your hands like sand.

Bile floods into his mouth when Otto suggests wheeling his son’s body through the city to secure the approval of the smallfolk. The image of you insisting on going instead of his mother is burned into his brain. “If you will force Helaena, then at least spare Mother and allow me to go,” You’d begged. It does nothing.

As foolish as he can be, Aegon is also not one to forget what others have done for him. You were the only one who’d taken his side against your grandfather. He is glad he was not forced to marry you, glad that he did not force you to a brothel as he did Aemond; he is glad that he has not ruined you.

Aegon’s visits to your child become less and less frequent. He loves the boy dearly, like he’s his own, but he cannot stand to look at him. It’s only a reminder of what happened to his little Jaehaerys.

Rook’s Rest destroys him. He does not even need to tell you that it was Aemond who did it, you just seem to know. There is no way for him to verbalize that he is listening to you while he is in his milk-of-the-poppy induced coma, but he does appreciate the stories you tell him while sitting at his bedside.

He specifically forbids you from looking at him while the Maesters change out his bandages, but he’ll allow you to sit on the other end of his bed with your back to him and hold his unburnt hand while they do so.

— “I feel a monster,” He admits to you one night while you light a candle on the stand next to his bed. You’re clad in a warm nightgown; many whisper that winter is coming, and it’s hard not to notice with how cold the breezes have been lately.

“Why is that?”

“You know why.”

You can’t even fight the scoff that comes from you, and you turn back to him with a frown etched deeply into your face. “You should not. You are king.”

Aegon rolls his eyes. “That did not stop our cunt of a brother from burning me like the Conqueror did Harrenhal.”

Huffing, you smooth out your dress, then walk to the other side of the bed and slowly crawl on. You’re careful not to move around too much, so as to not cause him any more injury, and sit next to him, back against the headboard. You bring your knees to your chest and wrap your arms around your legs. His eyes are slightly glossy when they meet yours.

He takes a sharp breath. “…If it had been my decision, I would have named you regent.”

You laugh incredulously at that, shaking your head. “They set aside Mother for Aemond. They would have forced you to do the same.”

Aegon raises his remaining silver brow. “I am not as feeble and weak-minded as Father. I speak truly. It is you I trust the most.”

Helaena

Helaena is perhaps the least expressive out of all of your siblings, but even she felt happy when Mother’s babe had come a girl.

She does genuinely appreciate that you do not judge her and make fun of her behind her back; she has never felt like she has been able to fit in with her ladies-in-waiting.

As mature as she is, Helaena does like to indulge girlishly sometimes; she enjoys matching her gowns with you, as well as hairstyles and (light, so as to not overstimulate her) jewelry.

Observant and introspective, Helaena also has a great memory. If you tell her you’ve had a fascination with direwolves as of late, or have particularly enjoyed reading about Valyrian history, suddenly the dresses she gifts you will subtly be embroidered with subtle little wolf icons or ancient Valyrian imagery. She is very thoughtful.

Unbeknownst to most, she also gives very good advice. There have only been a handful of times her council has not helped you. Wise and empathetic, she is, and she is always willing to listen to you explain your troubles while she plays with one of her bugs.

It pains her to see you inflicted with the same fate as she was; married off to a man you had no love for, forced to be his incubator. Just as it was during Aegon’s coronation, her head is bowed at your wedding. She does not want to look at your doom.

Despite this, she is perhaps the most supportive of you during your pregnancy; she likes suggesting names for the babe as well as crafting him little clothes for him to wear when he is born.

Although you do not understand her prophecies, it does quell her anxieties a bit that you at least listen to them instead of dismissing them like all else do.

When noise gets to be too much for her, you are the first to cover her ears with your hands, guiding her to the lush gardens of the Keep to breathe. You are the only person she has a likeness of boundaries with; when she does not want to be touched, you leave her be. It’s why you are the sibling she is fondest of.

Her hand immediately flies to grasp yours when Meleys erupts from the boards at Aegon’s coronation. The look on her face had confused you. She’d appeared fearful, but simultaneously also put at ease, as if she’d known that this was going to happen.

After Blood and Cheese, she cannot find rest at night. She takes to pacing about the Red Keep, almost looking like a ghost; pale and silver and paranoid. Despite the fact that it distracts you from your own slumber, you insist on her staying in your chambers with you. She still paces, never sleeps. Some nights you even walk with her around the castle.

— “This one will not live,” She blurts out randomly, interrupting you from one of your tangents, confusing you. She never interrupts you, always listens to whatever your qualms are for the day without complaint.

“What?”

You feel like you’re about to burst; partly from the grand lamb you had for your midday meal and from how heavy the babe in your belly feels. She seems surprised that the words had actually come out of her mouth.

She pushes her face closer to the fly she has somehow managed to capture in her palm, a perturbed glint in her eye. “I do not think this one will survive.”

You decide to indulge her, tilting your head to the side from where you sit across from her, lounging on a velvet sofa. “Why is that?”

“The art of the spider is subtle. It shall trap another in its web.”

(Later that day, you can only wonder if she was speaking of Lord Vaemond after he’d been beheaded by Prince Daemon from behind.)

Aemond

Aemond can barely remember the day you were born, much less the day a celebration had been held for Mother’s pregnancy.

Alike to his siblings, Aemond is not one to forget what you did for him when you were children; how you always offered to take him on rides on your dragon before he’d claimed Vhagar, how you were the only one uninvolved in the “pink dread” incident, how you cried for him after he lost his eye.

After the loss of his eye, Aemond begins to put a wall around himself. Unfortunately, that does include you. Before Driftmark, you were closest with him, but afterward, you had slowly drifted toward Aegon; nevertheless, he shows his affection for you in his own way.

However, he does keep the little gifts you’ve given him over the years safely hidden in his chambers, away from the eyes of curious maids and servants, like the eyepatch you’d embroidered a little Vhagar in in the weeks after his eye was cut out.

When Vaemond’s head is cut off, Aemond immediately places a hand on the pommel of his sword, lest Daemon himself attack you next. When he becomes regent, he is the one who orders you to be given a sworn protector. He is the one who’d help you learn Valyrian when you struggled, even after all your lessons.

Aemond never, never shows much affection to anyone in the family publicly, but he doesn’t mind it if you place a hand on his forearm or his own hand. He prefers it if you keep things like cheek or forehead kisses private in the sanctity of your or his own room.

In his immediate family, you are perhaps the most normal of all, which does make him seek out your company the most. The mornings after he seeks out Madame Sylvi’s assistance are the mornings he spends the most time with you. The shame of it all almost eats him alive, and you are a welcome distraction.

Additionally, the one-eyed prince does genuinely appreciate how you show your devotion to the family, though of course he’d never verbalize it. Almost every training yard session he has, you sit on the balcony, embroidering a dress or two while he swings his sword at Criston’s morningstar.

Your wedding to some old Crownlands lord was a memorable one, mostly because of when Aegon had pinned your new brother-by-law to a table and began beating him senselessly. Aemond was the one who had pried him off, mercilessly tugging him by the collar of his doublet away from the man.

You become pregnant quick. Aemond says that when your son is born, he will bring him to meet Vhagar himself, stating that a “new Targaryen babe should learn the ways of his predecessors”.

As the moons pass by, the Maesters order you to bedrest. Your elder brother likes to visit during his free time, sometimes bringing a book with him to read or nothing, just to converse with you quietly. You are the only “quiet” Aemond has ever known.

When Rhaenys bursts through the boards at Aegon’s coronation, Aemond’s palm finds your wrist, gently grasping it with his long fingers.

Just as your mother does, you begin to shun Aemond after Luke’s murder. It does not make him resent you as much as it does Alicent, but it does make him spiral a bit quicker.

Many a time have you slept in Aemond or Aegon’s bed because of nightmares. The only time he’s ever slept in yours was the night Aegon had found him in the brothel with Sylvi. You had not been awake when he’d crawled into bed with you, just laying beside you and shutting his eye. He makes sure to leave before you wake. Aemond does not know that you were quite aware of his presence, but had chosen not to say anything. If Aemond of all people had decided to find sleep in your bed, something awful must’ve happened. Why take that moment of respite from him?

He knows that you know he burned Aegon, but he does not ever bring it up in a conversation with you, much less acknowledge it. However, Aemond is observant. He notices the fearful glint in your eye when he is around you, now, but this is what he has always wanted, has he not? To rule?

— Aemond is with you the morn after Blood and Cheese, standing in one of the Red Keep’s balconies as you watch the wagon carrying your mother and Helaena depart. Your eyes are sunken in from crying, cheeks swollen; you wear a veil of mourning yourself, though there is no crown settled on your head. The way you lean over the railing to peer at the ground, the way your back is hunched, the way you grieve so openly.. it does not befit a princess. It does not befit someone from the Targaryen family, someone who is supposed to use honeyed words and cunning tricks to protect themself from the environment of King’s Landing.

You sniffle. “Where were you?”

Aemond’s eye goes wide. A deep pit was already settled in his stomach, but it only seems to get worse at your questioning. Even his throat seems to tighten up, make it impossible for him to even choke out an answer.

“When news of… the boy spread,” You begin, “I went to find you myself. But you were not in your chambers, nor in the library. Where were you?”

“Patrolling.” It’s an obvious lie. He regrets it the moment it comes out of his mouth, jaw clenching immediately. There was no use in patrolling at night, when he could barely see anything. His hand unconsciously squeezes the stone railing.

He’s ready to leave with haste when you nod to yourself, face blank and detached from reality. “…I won’t tell anyone,” You mutter, just loud enough for him to hear. “Wherever you were.”

[elixirfromthestars]

Boulevard Confessions

Pairing: 1940s!Bucky Barnes x Nurse!Reader 

Summary: Being a third wheel to Peggy and Steve wasn't your ideal Thursday night fun. However, when they tell you Bucky is tagging along you eagerly decide to join them. That is until a third party makes its presence known.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warning(s): drinking / fluff / jealousy / divergent from canon timeline / suggestive language / tipsy symptoms / mentions of war + the hardships that came with it

a/n:  Here’s a little piece that’s been sitting unfinished in my drafts for ages. For context, this timeline is one where Steve and Bucky both made it back from the war safe and sound and are enjoying their lives now that the war is over. Thank you for reading! ₊˚⊹♡ As a little psa my writing challenge is still ongoing!! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!! ♡

for ambiance 🎶

“ I am about to spew my dinner all over this table,” you grimace, downing the rest of your martini. The bitterness of the spirits was lost on you as your consumption grew in time with your sour mood.

Peggy eyed you from across the table, holding back her amusement, “ If you keep stuffing your face with martinis you will.” You reach out to grab another unclaimed drink, but before you could, Peggy slid the rest of them away from you. You crossed your arms, blowing out a resigned sigh. Even in your inhibited state, you knew better than to argue with an SSR agent. 

Peggy shook her head at you, “ As your best friend I have an obligation to put a stop to this. Don’t you have a shift tomorrow at the clinic?” Your eyes went wide at the reminder. 

You slump in the booth, dreading the bad hangover awaiting you in the morning. “ I do, but thankfully it's in the afternoon. I won’t feel it by then. . .” You trailed off, failing to convince Peggy, or yourself, you wouldn’t be miserable at work tomorrow. Peggy turned to look at the dance floor before returning her attention to you, “ You know, maybe you should dance the dizzy away. It might help you sober up.” Your lips purse at her suggestion, noticing a certain blonde-haired blue-eyed super soldier returning from the bathroom.

 “ It's easy for you to say. You have a dance partner,” you motioned over to Steve. 

“ You would too if you would only go up and ask him,” she pointed out. 

You glanced at the dancing couples, “ No way. With the way that leech is clinging on to him—I’d never get one word in.”

She shrugged, “ You’ll never know until you try.” These were her parting words before Steve arrived at the table and escorted her onto the dance floor. You watched them, your head bopping along tiredly to the swing music. 

Maybe you should have stayed home. 

You almost didn’t come to the outing—being the third wheel to Peggy and Steve wasn’t exactly your ideal Thursday night fun. However, Peggy had mentioned Bucky would come along, and seeing as you hadn’t seen him in a few weeks due to conflicting schedules, you thought this would be the perfect opportunity to catch up. 

That was until the leech—a woman named Darla—decided to hog Bucky all night. Darla had been trying to get with Bucky for over a month now. You found this out tonight when Steve made a comment about it. Bucky hadn’t paid it much importance, so you thought it must have not been anything serious. However, right about the time you and Bucky were starting to catch up, Darla came over and dragged him away. 

Since then you’ve been inhaling martinis like your lungs preferred them over air. 

You couldn’t help the way your eyes drifted over to Bucky’s figure. Handsome as ever in his navy suit—your favorite color on him—and hair neatly combed. Watching as Darla threw herself at him with the courage that you lacked. Pulling him every which way on the dance floor, holding his hands to her hips in a tight grip. 

Your stomach contents were threatening to come up again. 

When did things get so complicated? You scratched at your brain for an answer. Spending time with Bucky had been so easy back at the military base where you met. You were stationed there in the medical unit caring for wounded and ill soldiers. During that time, you became great friends with Peggy and everyone on the Howling Commandos team. Bucky would frequently visit the medical unit even when he wasn’t sick or wounded. Sometimes you swore he would fake injuries or aches just to come and see you. Anytime he came in with something new he would refuse to see any other nurse but you.

It made you feel special. While other women were smitten with his charms and stumbled over seizing his attention—you had it without effort. You had so much more than just his attention without even trying. On hopeless nights he shared his fears, on days where the war seemed endless you eased his worries, and when he felt like the world was crashing down on him his heart spilled all vulnerabilities to you. 

You found refuge from the horrors of war in each other—a balm to each other’s wounds that went beyond the physical. In no time, something deeper for him bloomed within your heart. 

Ever since the war was over, however, things have been different. It’s been a couple of years and Steve and Bucky work alongside Peggy for the Strategic Scientific Reserve. Going on missions has become their norm, so seeing your friends is a rarity nowadays. 

You on the other hand were given a job at a children’s clinic in Brooklyn. You were grateful for this small piece of normality coming back to you. Treating smaller wounds on smaller bodies instead of lethal wounds during a relentless battle. Your senses are permanently burned with sights, sounds, and smells horrific enough to induce nightmares—and they do—managing to steal precious hours of sleep from you almost every night.

It was something you and Bucky especially bonded over.

“ May I have the honor of a dance, gorgeous?” A voice interrupted your thoughts. You looked up to meet a pair of unrecognizable hazel eyes. A handsome stranger stood in front of you, his hand outstretched for you to take. If you had but only one percentage less of alcohol in your system you would have declined his offer. This of course wasn’t the case, and not wanting to reminisce on more melancholy thoughts, you decided to listen to Peggy’s advice and dance the dizzy away.

Even if it wasn’t with the man you wanted to dance with.

“ You may,” you smiled at him, taking hold of his hand. Swiftly you were swept into the sea of couples on the dance floor. The handsome stranger—who you soon learn was named Thomas—was an impeccable dancer. With one hand holding yours, and the other holding you gently at your lower back, he spun you around the dance floor in rhythmic kicks and slides. Thomas’ energy was infectious and you couldn’t help but match his enthusiasm. 

After two dances your footwork and Thomas’ were practically synchronized. Thomas twirled you, causing a giggle to escape your lips. It seemed the alcohol was stubborn about staying in your system as the twirl caused the dizziness to come back—for a split second—making you trip over your own foot. Thomas caught you and steadied you, both of you laughing at your clumsiness. The carefreeness of it all lulled the ache in your heart.

Behind Thomas, you caught a glimpse of Peggy who was dancing as joyfully with Steve. Her eyes met yours and she sent you an encouraging smile. Soon after, her eyes drifted to something behind you, turning her smile into a smirk. You went back to dancing with Thomas, but manoeuvered around to get a look at what caused Peggy to smirk. Your heart did a little jump when you discovered she had been looking at Bucky and Darla, dancing a few feet from where you were. 

Correction. She had been staring at a Bucky you barely recognized. His jaw clenched and body rigid as he glared daggers at the back of Thomas’ head. Darla beside him looked snubbed, tugging on Bucky’s arm to get his attention. His tense demeanor didn’t move an inch no matter how much she protested. The pair were no longer dancing, merely standing in the sea of all the couples. This piqued your curiosity. 

Why had he stopped dancing? And to glare at Thomas of all things?

You didn’t have much time to think about it as Darla, clearly fed up by Bucky’s lack of attention, grabbed him by his arm and pulled him away from the dance floor. You swayed to and fro with Thomas, controlling the direction you were swinging in to try and not lose Bucky from your line of sight. 

Where was Darla taking him?

Your heart stopped when you realized where they were going. Darla was making a beeline for the back of the bar where the honey hallway was. The spot where all the couples went to have a little more privacy and fool around without having to leave the bar. If he was going there with Darla, then maybe things were more serious between them than you previously believed.

Your heart dropped to your stomach when reality sank in. 

You excused yourself from Thomas, scurrying away in need of some fresh air. He offered to follow along, but you declined wanting to be alone. You threw the entrance door open into the Brooklyn night as a sickly feeling spread throughout your body. 

You stepped into the street, the swing music fading into the background as the door closed behind you. You took in a deep breath, once again regretting the amount of alcohol you had consumed.

If you weren’t drunk seeing Bucky with someone else wouldn’t have hurt so much. It wouldn’t have knocked the air out of your lungs like it's doing now.

You know that’s a lie. That’s a damn lie you’re telling yourself to get you through the night. To give you the strength to focus on your surroundings and trudge home. 

You’d eventually do that. First, however, your body seemed to want to cling to a street lamp to bring the world back to you. The cold metal underneath your palms grounding you for a moment. The breeze blowing past you threading through your hair as if to comfort you.

“ Doll, everything alright?” Your heart stuttered when you heard his voice, the thud of the bar door closing following it. You shut your eyes and bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from saying or doing anything the liquid courage in your system was trying to wrestle out of you. 

You knew you needed to make a quick getaway. 

“ I’m fine. Just heading home,” you were straight to the point before turning to walk away. Not looking at him as you put one foot in front of the other—and then stumbled. 

Bucky caught you, his arms offering a strong support,“ Woah, Y/n, how much did you drink?” There was a slight annoyance in his tone. As if the mere thought of you having fun was preposterous. 

Or at least that’s how your tipsy state interpreted it.

“ Doesn’t matter. I can have a drink or two if I want to. I get to have fun too,” you retort, trying to push his arms away from your body. Your arms are no match for his, as he doesn’t budge an inch—on the contrary, his hold gets more firm. The world started to spin more, but at this point, whether it was because of the martinis or his proximity—you wouldn’t know. 

Bucky huffed and rolled his eyes,“ This isn’t having fun. This is going overboard,” he counters. His constant need to hold you steady and scold you for drinking irked the part of you that was already upset with him—fueling it more. Especially when you had the image of him heading to the honey hallway with Darla ingrained in your brain. And his arms, the ones around you now, swinging her around on the dancefloor. 

There was something dark bubbling an envious brew within you. 

“ Why do you give a damn?” you snap out harshly. He stills at your tone and it's enough to shake his hold off of you. You force yourself to look at him. Intending to shoot him an annoyed glare. Something to convey what your heart felt when your words failed to—but when your eyes met his you froze. 

They were dark—virtually stormy—and yet, there was a hint of pain in them. Almost as if you had kicked him, but he was toughing it out.

“ What was that about?” He finally spoke after what seemed like too long. 

“ What was what about?” You feigned innocence. 

His eyes got darker, a disapproving half smile on his face,“ Don’t play coy. I come out here to check on you. You’re stumbling like a drunk fool. I try to help and you snap at me?” 

“ I didn’t ask you to,” you’re quick with your dismissal.

“ You…unbelievable…” Bucky lets out a scoff, not knowing how to respond. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into you. In his mind, you’re simply too drunk to regulate yourself. He doesn’t know the vile jealousy that bubbles in the pit of your stomach and gnaws at your heart. He doesn’t know the intense battle your emotions are having with your brain—right in front of him—to stay silent before you truly say something you cannot take back. 

“ Go back inside. I’m heading home,” you say simply, not wanting to dwell on this conversation any longer. You feared what might come of it if you didn’t.

“ No. I'm walking you home,” he shakes his head firmly, his tone matching in conviction. 

“ No, you're not,” you reply, turning to make your way down the boulevard. Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose, “ Like hell I'm not, doll. I'm not letting you walk home alone.” 

“I'm not letting you walk me home. I don't want you to,” you say adamantly as your feet start moving. Bucky is right beside you as they do, not letting you get away,“ I don't care what you want or don't want. I'm walking you home and that's final.” His voice leaves no room for argument. 

The martinis in your system don’t particularly give a damn, but it is enough to quiet you for the time being. Your speed increases slightly, but Bucky can match it easily. For a moment you consider running—as ridiculous as an idea that may be. 

The sharp patter of your footsteps against the pavement synchronizes with the thudding of his as they mingle down the boulevard. The city sounds around you are an otherwise low hum of the occasional car and distant conversation. The city still whispering its signs of life at this time of night.

The walk to your place isn’t too far. And you know if you don’t shake him off soon there would be an unpleasant conversation awaiting you when you arrive.  

“ Don’t you have someone waiting on you at the bar?” You remind him with a little sting to your heart. Secretly hoping this wasn’t the reason he’d walk away from you.

Bucky frowns, thinking for a moment before speaking,“ What? You mean Darla?” The sound of her name on his lips bristles you. 

“ Yeah, her,” the word her spills from your lips as if it was venomous. Bucky catches that and is taken aback for a second. His footsteps coming to a stop. You push yourself to keep walking. Taking this as a sign to ignore the tiny part of your brain that begs you to stop moving.

Not a minute later Bucky strides to your side,“ Doll…are you jealous?” He asks with the tiniest bit of doubt, his small smile overshadowing it. 

“ Me? Ha! No,” your denial is quick—too quick. His small smile turns into a wide grin. You’ve just confirmed his conjecture,“ Yes, you are.” 

“ No. Go ahead and marry her for all I care. I won’t be at the wedding anyway,” you don’t mean what you say and yet you said it anyway. Playing up the indifference act you’ve dawned. 

“ You won’t be at my wedding?” He’s not upset when he responds, he's amused. He has to hold back his laughter at your train of thought. This gets under your skin and you grumble a snippy no before picking up your pace. You’re now imagining Darla in a wedding dress next to Bucky in his suit and it does devastating things to you. 

“ That’s impossible.”

“ How so? I just won’t go.”

His tone takes a more serious turn when he replies, “ It’ll be hard to have a wedding without the bride there.” You come to a halt, your head whipping so fast to look at him you almost gave yourself whiplash.

“ What?” You manage to find your voice. His gaze softens,“ You heard me, doll.” He’s being completely sincere—you know this deep down. However, there’s still a part of you that doesn’t believe this is happening. That believes this to be a dream.

“ You don’t mean that.”

“ I do. If you were to ask me where I see forever—I see it with you.”

His confession takes your breath away. The mere admission of him thinking of you as his eternity—as the one he wants beside him for life—your heart could burst at how delightfully overwhelmed it feels. 

“ But you—” you start and his pointer finger gently presses against your lips to shush you. He already knows what you’re about to bring up and he needs to nip it before your drunken mind jumps to wilder conclusions.

“ She’s just a friend. She’s a secretary at the SSR—nothing more. I was dancing with her to be nice. Honestly, I was trying to find a polite way to leave her and get back to you until I saw you dancing with that guy,” he removes his finger from your lips once he’s done explaining. At the mention of Thomas, his jaw clenches briefly and annoyance flashes in his eyes. 

It dawns on you why he was glaring at Thomas earlier. The realization of Bucky having felt as jealous as you did sends your heart ablaze. Your heart had gone through so much tonight, you were surprised it hadn’t gone into cardiac arrest already. 

“ Who’s the jealous one now?” you tease, an almost giddy smile on your face. 

Bucky rolls his eyes playfully,“ Yeah, doll. Unlike you, I’ll admit it. I was jealous. I don’t like seeing you with another man. Laughing and dancing—should've been me, not him,” he says stepping closer to you. His eyes reflected pure adoration.

“ Why didn’t you ask me?” your question comes out quieter than you’d like. Enamored with the way he’s looking at you. You can barely focus on anything else. 

“ Because when it comes to you I get all nervous and worked up. It's like I’m a punk again—a dumb kid with a crush. I don’t want to mess it up with you, Y/n. I would never want to do anything to lose you. Guess I got too caught up in doing things right I didn’t do anything at all,” Bucky opens up to you, his answer shedding away any last bit of hesitance in your body.

“ Bucky…I wish it would’ve been you instead too,” you say softly, stepping closer until you’re only a few inches away from him. His features match yours in fondness as he gently reaches out to grab hold of your waist, pulling you even closer, and closing the final bit of distance between you.

Your hands rest delicately at his chest. You can feel the way his heart races under your fingertips, drawing out a small gasp from you. Knowing you had this effect on him delighted you. It made you wonder how long you had been making him feel this way—and how long you had missed the signs.

“ Told you. I’m a dumb kid with a crush,” he reiterates with a soft chuckle. You giggle at his words, beaming dreamily at the way that all of this is real. That Bucky has feelings for you, and you two can only grow closer from here on out.

For a split second his eyes dart to your mouth. Having you so close like this tempts Bucky to no end. Everything he’s ever wanted to do with you crosses his mind and it drives him crazy. He has no idea where to start or if he’ll even let himself start anywhere. 

Your body thrums with anticipation as it waits for him to make a move.  

Bucky ends up tenderly kissing your forehead, “ Come on, doll. Let’s get you home.” Your lips form a light pout, disappointed his lips didn’t touch yours. He sees your reaction and he laughs, giving your hips a light squeeze, “ Doll, our first kiss will happen after you get that alcohol out of your system,” he says, one hand reaching up to lightly swipe at your nose—finding you endearing. 

“ We’ve already had our first kiss.” 

“ Doll we—oh, we have…” 

The memory of you two drunkenly kissing in the medical tent on one particularly lonely night during the war flashes through your minds. The already tension between you rising to a palpable form. 

There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes,“ Still. If I’m being honest, I’m not stopping at just one kiss. So let’s wait until you’re sober, alright?”

“ Not stopping?” Your tone is playful as you pry for further explanation. 

“ Oh no, doll. I'll be doing so much more than kissing you,” he smirks, his words laced with suggestion. His hand goes out to cup your face, caressing your cheek. It warms under his fingertips at his implication. The air around you buzzes with electricity. 

He can tell where your mind went and he’s enjoying every second of it,“ Yeah, doll. Like taking you out on a proper date,” he winks at you. A genuine laugh erupts from you at the way he side steps what he really meant. He joins you in the laughter, his eyes telling you the truth of what he really desires.

You. Every bit of you.

You interlace your fingers with his, knowing deep down he has a point. When you kiss Bucky you want to be all there. You want all your senses to be fully awake to drink in every bit of him. 

Especially if it goes farther than a kiss.

Bucky moves you over so he’s walking on the outermost part of the sidewalk, holding your interlaced hands to his waist so you’re pressed right up against his side as you walk. You tease and playfully banter all the way to your apartment. The unspoken promises and unmistakable yearning for one another dancing around you two. Assuring you there was so much more to come. 

[tteokdoroki]

tw ! slight age gap, reader is older, cheating, fingering, smut.

hello going on a business trip or to a conference, escaping your mundane life and the marriage that brings you nothing.

you’ve really gone on this trip to get away from your dead bedroom and the spouse that treats you like nothing more than a money maker.

which leads you to having a chance encounter with bakugou at the bar of the hotel your conference is at. you remember him from one of the panels — he’s young for this field of work but incredibly handsome, has brilliant red eyes that draw you in like magnetising poles, he makes you laugh and from your belly too. he’s everything your current spouse is not, there’s a spark inside you that you haven’t felt in years and bakugou knows it too. he makes you feel beautiful and seen and all he’s done is buy you a drink with a sour olive in it.

you find yourself stumbling behind him after one too many drinks, katsuki guiding you back to your hotel room — the good man that he is. you’ve both got panels to attend tomorrow morning at 9am sharp. it wouldn’t be wise to spend the rest of the night basking in booze and one another’s company. but when you get the door, failing to slip your key card into the slot — the blonde’s hand touches yours to help you get it in and all sense of logic is lost.

you no longer feel drained by mundane life waiting for you back home, you no longer think of your boring spouse in currently sleeping in your marital bed where they fail to make you feel loved. from the moment katsuki’s hand had touched yours, all you could feel was electricity, the longing and the wanting you’ve been desperately craving.

his lips drag sweep across your skin in heated motions and they find pleasure spots you’re not sure you even knew existed. bakugou’s fingers map out every inch of your body as though he may never touch you again, they dip past the forbidden band of your a-line skirt and write secret promises of pleasure against your clit because you’re married and the both of you know this is wrong.

one touch turns into another, dull and thick fingers stretch you open and graze your g-spot with an ease your spouse could never find. you e never felt this good, your lashes flutter against katsuki’s neck as he holds you to his chest and finger fucks you to the high heavens…because you’re just a hardworking woman who hasn’t had her pussy ruined in a long time, not like you deserve. he grins when you cream on just two of his fingers, such a good girl, so easy to please.

“such a pretty girl… such a hard worker ‘n no one to take care of you,” the blonde purrs into your ear before pushing you into the plush pillows and blankets below. there’s a gravel in his voice that raises at the heartbeat between your legs, not to mention the perfect view of him loosening his shirt and tie above you. “s’that why you’ve fallen into bed with the youngest guy here. ‘cause i got what it takes t’keep up with ya, yeah? make you feel better than that poor excuse of a fuck you got back home?”

bakugou grins slow and sexy when your hips rise from the bed on instinct at his words and he kisses you just to reward you, a poor touch starved little thing. its hungry and sloppy and messy and somewhere in the mix of his tongue wrapped around yours and your hands in his hair — the blonde has ripped through your stockings and slipped his aching, dripping slick cock past your quivering entrance.

he feels like home inside you, feels you up to the brim and sends your eyes rolling back into the depths of your skull. every stroke is calculated, every piston of katsuki’s meaty girth purposive and intentional — crafted to make you see stars with every jolt of your body up the bed. you can’t go back to regular old life after tonight, you won’t be able to go back to the way things were without picturing bakugou’s tie hanging loosely above you and hearing his deep moans echo throughout your mind.

that night you leave marks on one another that you’ll be hiding for weeks, smiling at when no one is looking, reminiscing the sinful experience shared in this very hotel room. there’s too much passion in the room for this to just remain a one time thing, too much emotion behind the act saliva swept lip lock or love bite left below the line of future clothes to be worn.

you know that you won’t give katsuki up especially when he kisses you as you cum together, thick white seeping between your swollen and ravaged folds.

you’ll do anything to be underneath bakugou like this again, even if it means planning fake business trips every other weekend to get away from your spouse and get fucked to the high heavens by your young hot colleague.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai & recommend elsewhere.

[yaeverse]

Dinner Date | j.ww

pairing: class president! wonwoo x playgirl!reader

summary: going on a date with your class president who actually have had a secret crush on you for a while

warnings: slight nsfw, fluff, a few wet kisses

a/n: helloo nyxies, i'm still new to writing so deepest apologies if there some grammatical errors found in my fanfic. anyways, enjoyyy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You could say you were hell ass surprised when he asked you out to dinner after winning the school art competition. Your class president, Jeon Wonwoo, also known as the campus heartthrob had a secret crush on you for sometime now. The man was undeniably handsome, hot, smart and basically a walking wet dream that had every girl or boy drooling over him

Walking and pacing around your room, figuring out on what to wear, making sure to not look like you're whoring yourself on your first date with Wonwoo, your mind brings you back to the moment he asked you out.

(flashback)

"y/n, will you go on a date with me..?" he asks as he looks at you with a stoic face. Wonwoo actually had this all planned in his head but things didn't really go as well as he thought it would, "I'll pick you up later at seven.." he continues, leaving no space for rejection.

(end of flashback)

"Dammit, Jeon Wonwoo.. you got me nervous over a date.." you sigh, deciding on wearing a turtleneck croptop partnered with a skirt. Yeah, you've had your past relationships and flings, but oh damn, did Wonwoo got you this nervous.

Hearing your phone ring, you immediately sat up answering the call.

"Hey.." you said,

"I'm outside.." he says in a husky voice, sending shivers down your spine,

"Alright, I'm heading out.."

This was absolutely the very first moment of you being nervous of stepping out your apartment. I mean, we are talking of Jeon Wonwoo, who wouldn't be nervous.

Stepping out your door, your eyes meet Wonwoo's gaze as he stands awestruck at your beauty.

"You look.." he stutters, "beautiful, y/n.."

"oh hey, we're twinning!" you smile excitingly at the adorable coincident

He stares at you, his heart fluttering at the sight of your smile. You had quite a reputation around campus, 'Playgirl Y/N', but couldn't care less. He just saw you for who you are.

The drive was comfortably quiet. Exchanging a few glances and questions to lift the awkward tension.

"so, congrats on winning earlier.." he says, glancing in your direction,

"thanks" you smiled back, "i never thought i'd win, i messed up a few paints due to nervousness.."

"what are you talking about?" he lightly chuckles, turning the steering wheel as he talks with you, "yours was the best one there, so of course you'd win.."

You can't help but smile at his words. "thank you, wonwoo.."

After a few minutes drive, you two finally arrive.

"We're here" he says, stepping out of the driver's seat to open your door

You can't help but your eyes widen and mouth drop in agape at how beautiful, and to say expensive the place looks. He really went all out for a first date, and you think you don't deserve this kind of treatment.

"Let's go..?" he asks, guiding you by your waist, "don't be nervous, y/n, be yourself.."

"Y-you didn't really have to do all this..." you look up to meet his gaze

"Well, I wanted to"

Dinner was mostly filled with a few exchanged talks and warm conversations. Getting to know each other, and finding a few interesting facts that none of the two of you thought to be possibly real.

Spending time and getting to know him made you realize that he is everything you could ask for a guy. After having failed relationships, and jumping from one guy to another, you finally conclude that Jeon Wonwoo is YOUR TYPE OF MAN. You now can see why almost everyone in campus say the he's the perfect ideal boyfriend a girl can ever ask. He's a complete gentleman, smart, handsome, hot, a walking wet dream, like everything. You just know that after this date, you will never be the same. You could already feel the effects this guy has over you.

"Did you enjoy the dinner, y/n?" he asks,

"Of course, I did," you smile, as you took out your wallet "Oh- I can pay the dinner-"

"You're not paying dinner, princess," he chuckled, gently pushing your hand back to yourself, "I already payed anyways.."

"Y-you're too much, won.." you smile warmly at him,

"Nothing's too much, y/n," he smiles back, "You ready to go home..?"

You nod and as a gentleman he is, he escorts you outside, holding your waist. The warmth of his palm on your waist was enough to send butterflies bursting to your stomach, making your heartbeat crazy.

"So, uh, this is goodnight i guess.." he mumbles as he walks you to your door, "good night, y/n..."

"wait-" you pause, realizing what you just said

"yes..?" he immediately looked back, giving you all his attention

he walks closer to you, leaning in as he sees your eyes laid on his lips, making him chuckle.

"my eyes are up here, princess.." he smirked, "may i..?"

No words came out but you just nodded. He slowly leans in. Your heart beats in anticipation as you close your eyes, ready to feel his lips on yours.

But, oh damn, was he soft like feather.

You tensed up feeling his lips on yours. 'Get a grip, y/n, it's not like it's your first time kissing someone' you mentally scold yourself. You then feel his hand settle on your waist as the other settles behind your neck, pulling you closer to him.

You two pause for a moment to catch your breaths as he rested his forehead on yours. You smiled, and you know he's smiling as well. He then leans in again with more affection.

"Mmhh.." you hear him moan to the kiss as he swiftly licks your lower lip, begging to get in. With pleasure, you open your lips partly and he slide his tongue in immediately.

You two get lost in the moment, feeling waves of pleasure and adrenaline rush through every inch of your body at the sensation of his tongue dancing with yours. His hand grip your neck a bit tighter as he pulls you closer to give him more access inside your mouth as he makes out with you.

The kiss slowly calms down as you two pull back, gasping for air, foreheads resting against each other.

"We're going for a second date then..?" he asks with a light chuckle, his thumb caressing your waist,

"You're a good kisser, by the way.." you laugh, "And yes, a second date would be fucking great.."

He pecks your lips as he replies, "Next time, you'll receive more than a kiss, princess.."

Your face becomes a blushing mess as he smirked at your reaction

"W-Wonwoo...!" you whine playfully as you hit his chest,

"God, I'll make you scream my name next time.." he smirked, chuckling in a low tone,

"See you around, princess..." he greets you goodbye as he drives his car away

You just know that there'll be no more next guy after Wonwoo.

And you just know that in the next date, you'll end up being unable to walk

[turcott3]

the set up

cole caufield x fem! reader

warnings?: alcohol, cursing, kissing, smut, unprotected sex, public sex

masterlist

-

“truth.” you spoke aloud. you were at emma’s bachelorette party, one day before the rehearsal and you were all drunk playing truth or dare like teenagers.

“i know you have a crush on one of the players, who is it?” she asks inquisitively.

“well i’ve always had a little crush on caufield.” you reply with a shrug and a light smile on your face.

“oh really?” emma giggles.

“yeah, i mean he’s just so happy all the time and he’s really handsome, how could i not like him?” you reply taking another sip of your drink.

“i mean yall would be cute honestly.” she continues, texting someone quickly on her phone.

“who ya texting?” steph asks her next to you.

“just brendan, making sure he’s not blackout drunk, you know.” she laughs, knowing the boys were also having their party today.

“oh also, i’ll have your bridesmaid and groomsmen pairings done in the morning.” emma speaks up shutting her phone off. the rest of the night was spent partying, thinking in the back of your mind that you had just admitted your crush on cole to your best friend.

-

“hello?” you groaned into the phone, a call from emma waking you up.

“did you see my text?”

“no i just woke up, i need ibuprofen before i stare at a bright screen.” you laugh lightly.

“oh did i wake you? i’m so sorry.”

“no no it’s fine, i needed to get up, ill read it in a sec.” you reply.

“okay thanks, see you in a few hours y/n!” she says.

“bye love.” you reply, ending the call and getting up, digging for your pills. you popped two before opening your phone back up to read her text. as you ran across your name you almost choked on your drink.

“cole?” you question starkly, eventually leading to a sigh.

“of course i’m with him.” you groan, now feeling pressure to look flawless to maybe impress him. you knew that you’d found him attractive for a while but you had zero clue how he felt toward you.

after many hours of getting ready and making sure your rehearsal dress was perfectly wrinkle-less, you finally were able to leave your hotel room and make your way to the rehearsal venue.

“y/n!” emma yells as you step through the door, running up to hug you.

“hope you enjoy your pairing, yall two are sitting over there for dinner.” she winks pulling away.

“you’re stressing me girl.” you laugh nervously, sitting at the small two top table by yourself. much to your demise, you didn’t get much time to prepare as cole walked into the room a mere 5 minutes later, finding his way to his seat.

“how’ve you been? i haven’t seen you in a while.” cole asks smiling.

“oh i’ve been great, how about you?” you ask, picking at your manicure.

“better now that i’m here.” he replies, turning to face the couple as they were about to speak, a blush creeping onto your cheeks.

“hey guys so, before we get to eating dinner i just wanted to go over like the order of how everything’s gonna go just so we’re all prepared for tomorrow. and i won’t be mad that it’s not perfect, it’s not supposed to be. but if we don’t have any fun whatsoever, then we’ve failed our mission of being ‘the gallaghers’ so let’s hope we can do that at least.” emma spoke loudly amongst the room. she spoke for a few minutes just running through the order of how everyone is gonna walk out, you and cole being the third “couple”.

“and one last thing, i’m not making you guys sit at separate tables, i sat you with your pairing just because i didn’t like how it looked on the seating chart so, basically you’re attached at the hip all night. sorry.” she laughs, you knew she was particular in not wanting the wedding to be old school and formal.

“you think you got that all down?” you ask, trying to make it seem like you weren’t anxious, and it was starting to work. your nerves were beginning to ease as your anxiety seemed to remember that cole wouldn’t hurt a fly.

“i think i do. and we’re about to practice so that’ll be the test.”

“i’m nervous for tomorrow though.”

“whys that?” he asks, taking a bite of the plate that was sat in front of him.

“what if i like trip on my dress or like sneeze. i’m just scared ill ruin it.” you admit.

“it’ll be fine, you’re just over thinking it.” he replies and you nod knowing he’s right.

“that reception is gonna make it worth it though.” you giggle.

“oh absolutely, that’s gonna be the best part.” he replies

“and you’ll dance with me right?” he asks, with a hopeful smile on his face.

“oh um,” you pause finishing the sip you were about to take, “yeah of course i will.”

“great, i was hoping you would.”

-

you’d spent a vast majority of the night getting to know cole, which you loved doing. he’s an easy going guy who’s very sweet and respectful, which you adored. you went to bed tonight pondering on what the day would bring the two of you. you could feel the flirting between the two of you all evening.

the next morning, you woke up feeling refreshed. you went over the details of the wedding in your head over and over until you didn’t miss a word. you grabbed onto your garment and makeup bag and fled the room, rushing to be by your best friends side as she got ready for her big day.

“so you nervous?” you ask.

“girl no, i already know im saying yes.” she laughs as she sits in the chair being dolled up by her make up artist.

“oh that’s good.” you replied unpacking your things beginning to get yourself ready with the girls. the time came quickly. it seemed like minutes passed by between the time you finished your hair to the time you were stood with the guy you’ve had a crush on for a year.

“you okay? you’re fidgety.” cole asks quietly.

“oh uh, yeah i’m okay. just nervous.” you say, his hand then softly rubbing up and down your back.

“don’t be nervous, you’re gonna be great. if you trip ill catch you. i’m here.” he replies reassuringly as you flash him a weak smile.

“thank you.”

“of course, and you look beautiful by the way.” he says before locking arms with you, prepared to walk down the aisle. you made it down without any trips and appreciated cole going the extra mile to help you up a couple of stairs. you all stood on your respective sides, admiring the couple between you, sharing occasional glances with cole from across the altar. selfishly, you couldn’t stop thinking about him and how kind he was to you just moments prior.

-

the reception started about 30 minutes ago and you’re already 3 wine glasses deep with cole. you’d been dancing for a while and finally made your way back to the table, still littered with the others. you both had grown to be decently drunk and were getting touchy with cole, which is something you wouldn’t DARE to have done about 45 minutes ago.

“cole is need to pee, will you come with me and hold my dress?” you ask, sporting proud puppy dog eyes.

“yes, come on.” he replies standing up reaching his hand out to you, you found your way to the, luckily, single stall restroom. you locked the door quickly and turn to face him.

“i actually don’t have to pee.”

“i know.”

“you do?”

“yes, you’ve been making it obvious.” he giggles.

“what do you mean obvio-“ you start and are cut off by his lips harshly on yours, but in a way you enjoy. it was a quick change in environment, the fun had subsided and all you wanted to know was how he felt buried deep inside you. you felt yourself grow wet at his hands grazing down your back and onto your ass. his lips trailed to your neck, nipping and sucking on the skin before returning back to your lips after a long moment.

“i don’t wanna ruin your make u-“ he starts.

“shut up and fuck me caufield.” you reply interrupting him, a skill you’d both acquired in the last two minutes. cutting him off. a look of shock briefly flashes across his face before a smirk takes over.

“are you sure?” he asks, his hands placed on your waist.

“what do you mean? did you not hear me?”

“no i mean are you sure you wanna do it here?”

“yes, i want you right fucking now cole, and maybe again later when you’re staying in my room with me.” you reply and he smirks, turning you around and bending you over the sink. he assists you in pulling the short train on youryour long skirt over your ass, pushing your soaked lace thong to the side.

“so wet already?” he asks dragging a quick finger through your soaked core.

“mhm.” you reply biting your lip. you looked down at his pants in the mirror as he quickly unbuttoned his dress pants, rubbing himself hard very quickly. you bit your lip as you watched him line his hard cock up with your entrance.

“nuh uh, eyes up here.” he says using his hand to push your chin back up, locking eyes with him as he ran his leaning tip through your wet folds.

“cole we have to be fast.” you complain, as if you weren’t enjoying the teasing. a sigh of relief left your mouth as he buried himself deep inside you, his tip brushing your g-spot instantly, your eyes rolling back.

“oh fuck.��� you whimper, realizing you are in a very public place and have to make sure you keep your voice down. you mentally acknowledge the fact that you have no choice but to be fast in this moment, wanting to get the job done quickly. in thinking, you fucked yourself back onto him, colliding in the middle.

“god fuck-“ he grunts, placing his hands firmly on your ass cheeks, thrusting quickly, letting the fabric of your dress muffle the sound of your skin clapping.

“you’re so tight y/n.” he says, almost speeding up his already decent pace.

“oh my god cole, that’s it right there.” you whisper, tears forming in your eyes as you collapsed further over the sink. gently, he wrapped his arm around your chest pulling you up, deepening the angle of his thrusts, hitting your g-spot right on the head with each thrust.

“fucking god, i’m gonna cum.” you whine, a tear slipping from your eye.

“come on baby, cum for me. i will too yeah?” he asks with eyebrows raised in the mirror and you nod as the knot unravels in your stomach, shockwaves shooting through your body rapidly as he filled you to the brim with his milky climax, fucking you all the way through both of your highs.

“i can’t believe we just did that.” you sighed out, catching your breath.

“me either.” he chuckles behind you, pulling out slowly.

“oh fuck, here, stay right there.” he says observing the mess he made between your legs. he grabs a few sheets of toilet paper, carefully wiping you clean, tossing them in the toilet and pulling your panties back over your core.

“my eyes.” you groan looking in the mirror.

“let me see.” he replies and you turn around. he licks his fingers to fix the smudges under your eyes and around your lips, dabbing the sweat off your forehead with a paper towel.

“do i look okay?” you ask, pulling the dress back down.

“just as gorgeous as before.” he replies, readjusting his pants, making sure everything’s in straight.

“okay you ready?” he asks holding onto the door knob.

“wait hold on, can i ask you something?”

“yeah of course.”

“will you come stay with me tonight? like in my room?” you ask boldly, the buzz beginning to wear off.

“if that’s okay, yes of course i will.”

“it’s more then okay.” you smile lightly, wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing a firm kiss to his lips.

“good, then i can fuck you right.” he mumbles on your lips, kissing you again.

“woah fuck y/n i’m sorry.” he says as you pull away.

“what what’s wrong?” you reply nervously and he turns you by your hips to the mirror, using his hand to turn your head to the side, exposing the dark hickey he left on your neck.

“honestly, it’s fine, really.”

“are you sure?”

“yes cole it’s fine, and besides you’ll be littered in them tomorrow morning.” you wink, kissing him one last time as you turn the doorknob. he grabs your short dress train of the floor, carrying it as you walked out of the bathroom. you hear a chuckle a few feet away from you, realizing nick was standing there and definitely watched the two of you enter the bathroom.

“emma!” you shout as cole lets go of your dress, taking your hand as you jogged over toward her.

“we’ve been looking for you.” emma replies with a smirk on her face.

“oh uh, i just had to go to the bathroom and there was a line.”

“yep mhm, a line.” she laughs, turning your chin to the side, high fiving her husband.

“what?” you ask.

“bitch, what do you mean what? yall just fucked in true bathroom at my wedding and now you’re holding hands. oh brendan we have outdone ourselves.”

“what?”

“girl, i put you with him so that THIS would happen. nick was our spy, great help.”

“you wanted us to fuck at your we-“

“well that isn’t EXACTLY what we had in mind, i was thinking like a kiss during a slow dance on the floor but this? this is fucking gold.” she laughs hugging you, as you stood confused as ever.

“so this was a set up?” you scoff.

“well, yes.” brendon pokes in.

“thanks gally.” cole laughs, a soft hand wrapping around your hip.

“now yall go have fun.” emma says waving the two of you off.

-

“what a night.” you sigh, collapsing into your bed, cole right beside you.

“yes for real, we really got set up.”

“i’m not mad about it.” you reply.

“me either, i’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while.”

“why didn’t you, i’ve had a crush on you for like a year.” you laugh.

“yeah well, now we fucked in a bathroom at a wedding, i’d say that is quite the stride.” he smiles widely at you.

“i’m fucking exhausted. i would totally love to stay up and fuck all night but i feel like maybe we should sleep it off and then maybeeeeeeee fuck all morning?” you giggle.

“whatever you want baby.” he smiles, his thumb grazing over your cheek lightly, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips

“god you make it so hard not to just wanna fuck you like a damn bunny right fucking now.” you say and he busts out laughing.

“let’s go to sleep, come on love.” he says tucking the two of you under the covers.

“we can fuck like bunnies in the morning okay?”

“okay.” you pout, poking your bottom lip out.

“goodnight pretty girl.” he says softly.

“good night pretty boy.” you smile as he presses a light kiss to your nose.

-

[rinachains]

picture perfect [pt.1]

synopsis: in which you partner up with geto and he discovers a little secret of yours.

wc: 2.3k

contents: drabble; no-curses au, high-school au; geto x gn!reader; implied stalking, reader is a bit....unwell, but both of them are pretty questionable; ig this counts as dark content (?)

a/n: comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

“Sorry, we all already have a partner, but maybe another time!”

Sorry smiles and exaggerated pouts grace the faces around you. A more than familiar sight accompanied by more than familiar words.

How many times have you heard this sentence before, in different variations?

“Oh, it’s fine”, you mutter, voice not betraying any emotion, not wanting to draw in unnecessary attention.

You knew from the moment your art teacher announced a partner project that it would lead to this. It’s almost like a routine; everyone immediately finds their partner and you are the odd one out, standing around awkwardly until your teacher either allows you to work on your own or forces another poor student to partner up with you. What would it be this time?

There’s something wrong with you. There’s no point in denying it, you know it and everyone else seems to know it, it is simply a fact. It’s not as if you’ve done something outrageous – in fact, you try to stay as far in the background as possible, never making a scene, but it appears that whatever is wrong with you is visible even to the closed eye.

You've always had a hard time connecting with others. Something holds you back, that something remaining unknown, unidentified to you, and you can’t free yourself from its tight grasp, no matter how hard you struggle against it. You once overheard a classmate say that you’re off putting, that something about you freaks them out. (Of course they referred to you as ‘this one person, the one that’s always alone’, not caring enough to learn and remember your name.)

But what can you do about it? What can you do about this something when you don’t even know what it is?

“Partner up with me”, a low, more than familiar voice suddenly comes from behind your shoulder, startling you. As you turn around, you are met with purple eyes that make your own widen.

“Ah, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you”, Geto apologizes sheepishly, his hands raised and a soft grin gracing his handsome face.

“Oh- no, it’s alright”, you manage to press out, your brain trying to register whatever is happening right now.

Geto chuckles lightly, the barely audible sound passing from his mouth through the distance between you until it reaches the left side of your chest, leaving behind tickling warmth.

“So, want to partner up?”

“Uhm, aren’t you going to partner up with Gojo?”, you ask carefully, confused by his unexpected request. As you peek behind him, you find Gojo with another student, pouting and with crossed arms, throwing a heated glare at Geto’s back.

“Gojo is hopeless at art and I don’t really want to fail, so I thought you would be a better choice”, Geto explains, shrugging. “Not to sound like I’m using you for a better grade, I would generally be interested in working with you. It’s good to sometimes switch things up.” 

You clasp your hands behind your back, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you think over what he said. Gojo’s lingering glare makes you hesitate. The last thing you want is to feel Gojo’s wrath, especially since you managed to fly under the radar and avoid becoming a victim of his teasing the past two years. You don’t really feel like changing that, sometimes remaining unknown being better than that something inside and outside of you becoming known.  

“Is this really okay?”

Geto sighs, apparently aware of Gojo’s silent tantrum. “Of course. Don’t mind him, he just can’t take not being a priority for once.”

You nod slowly, unclasping your hands from behind your back. “Right. Well, yeah, we can work together. I’m fine with that.” Your voice is more steady this time, hoping that you sound collected and unaffected by the whole situation.

Not like I have another choice, you add bitterly in your head.

“Great.” His smile widens at your agreement, the palm of your hands clamping at the sight. “Can I join you then?”, he nods his head toward your desk, already reaching out to grab an empty chair for himself.

“Yeah, sure…”

You observe as he puts the chair in front of your desk and sits down, your body following and carrying you to your own seat, guided by an invisible force. His scent coats you once you face him again, it’s nothing overpowering, actually subtle, but it’s all you can smell in that very moment. Woody, something fresh akin to mint, a lingering scent of the green tea that he prefers to drink during break.

Sometimes your mind would drift away during class and you’d sit here, chin rested on your fist, consumed by thoughts of your dark-haired classmate. Sometimes you’d imagine gently caressing the black, silky locks through your fingers, playing with it, relishing its softness, and helping him put it up in his signature bun.

It happened a few times that one of the girls would attempt to touch it, but Geto always swerved smoothly away from their grips, not giving anyone an actual chance to feel it. Not even Gojo. What if he allowed you to do it? To be the exception? You’d picture him leaning into your touch, half-lidded eyes fluttering as a purr comes out of his chest. But that’s all it is at the end; an image, blossoming from the deeply rooted loneliness inside you and spreading its roots through your body.

Sitting in front of Geto, glancing at him with widened eyes, makes you realize once again just how beneath him you are, despite being eye to eye. There was always a distance between you, a well guarded, endless bridge that seemed impossible to cross, and you wonder if maybe today you would be able to take a step on it, even if it’s just a singular foot landing on it cautiously.

It’s no wonder that girls and boys swoon over him – he has a natural elegance and smoothness to him that simply can’t be replicated. You aren’t an exception to his charm, and you have a feeling he’s well aware of it. His smile knowing, his eyes keen – nothing truly escapes him. Perhaps that’s what draws you to him; he sees everyone, including you.

It also doesn’t help that he’s polite and helpful, especially in comparison to Gojo. Sometimes you wonder how he can put up with his white-haired friend, but whenever you examine them together you notice how Geto would become more carefree and playful, a teasing glint appearing in his eyes, subtly joining in on his antics.

His voice is usually gentle, even when it’s laced with frustration or tiredness whenever he scolds Gojo. You ask yourself what it would be like to see him lose himself, for him to actually lose his composure, and raise his voice. So unlike his usual self, revealing an ugly side. Although, you’d never find it ugly - you don’t believe you could ever consider anything concerning him as less than perfect.

“So, do you have something in mind?”, Geto brings you out of your thoughts. You blink. He looks relaxed as always, his back slumped against the chair and arms crossed against his broad chest.

“Well…”, you begin, teeth sinking into your lower lip as you stare at the desk. “I’m not sure yet.” That's actually not a lie. You would describe yourself as a creative person, someone who has various thoughts running through their head every second, and normally you would have had a few ideas by now - but when you have Geto in front of you, your brain stops working and renders you frustratingly useless. Even if you tried to concentrate, you'd surely get distracted by him again, every little thing interrupting your thought process.

He cocks his head to the side and purses his lips. “You can tell me your ideas, you know? I’m pretty sure you can come up with something.”

Is he being condescending or supportive? You can’t really tell, but a part of you also doesn’t care as blood inevitably rushes to your cheeks. You’d take and bask in his attention, no matter how wretched it is. Perhaps you should feel embarrassed and ashamed at how desperate you are, but deep down you are long past shame.

“Mhm, you’re good at taking pictures, aren’t you?”, he muses then, spreading his legs wider to make himself more comfortable. “We could do something with that.”

Your lips crack open, a few seconds pass before they can form proper words. “I guess…they’re nothing special though”, your voice cracks slightly at the end, making you visibly cringe. Geto stares at you intently as the corners of his lips tug up, as if he found something endearing or entertaining, or perhaps even both.

“No need to down play it, we can make use of your talent.“

Talent. When did someone ever, except for your teacher who was way too pushy for your likening, refer to your work as talent? (When did someone ever pay enough attention to you to even notice your work?)

“You didn’t even see any of them”, you counter weakly, your hand coming up to rub your collarbone.

Geto raises a thin eyebrow. “Actually, I did, a month ago at the exhibition.”

Surely he can’t mean the exhibition that was held together by the photography and the art club, right? You, of course, took part of it, presenting a few of your own photographs, albeit reluctantly. How the hell did you miss him there?

“Oh”, you breathe out, trying to process the information he just casually threw at you. “Sorry, I don’t think I saw you there.” You would have never guessed that he would even be there in the first place, so even if you did unknowingly catch a glimpse of him, you probably have told yourself that you were mistaking a stranger for him, that you were too far gone in your delusion.

“It’s fine, I wasn’t there for a long time anyway, I left after seeing your pictures”, he lifts his shoulder in a half shrug, an action so simple but so graceful at the same time. 

“What? Why?” Your voice comes out louder than intended, immediately making you recoil when some of your classmates around you turn their heads to you. God, why can’t you just act cool?

A soft, honeyed laugh leaves Geto’s mouth, his eyes crinkling into crescent moons and his bang swinging against his face. You swallow as your mouth suddenly feels awfully dry. You don’t think you can compare this sight to anything you’ve ever seen, anything you’ve ever caught with your camera before.

“Well, I overheard our teacher praising you, so I thought that I should see them for myself. I definitely wasn’t disappointed.”

He averts his stare to the ground, his head tilted to the side which allows you to let your eyes wander alongside the smooth, pale skin of his strong neck.

“Honestly, I don’t know as much about photography as I’d like to, but I really enjoyed looking at your pictures”, he pauses for a moment, a contented expression taking over his face. “The way you capture everything – it’s like nothing escapes you.” Geto then looks up to you again, purple hues swirling with a strange, captivating glint. He finishes in a joking tone, “I hope I’m not freaking you out right now.”

“No”, you rapidly shake your head as you choke out a response. “No, of course not. I’m just surprised…”, you halt, trying to scramble together words to form a sentence. “I didn’t expect anyone to know about that. I never really speak with anyone about my photography.”

He clicks his tongue. “Ah, that won’t do. I guess I need to praise you more then.” Beneath your bashfulness, he catches the way you perk up, reminding him of a puppy that got praised by its owner, an imaginary wagging tail appearing behind you. He has to hold himself back to not let out a coo and reach up to pet your head. Aren’t you just so easy to appease?

“Since we’re doing this together, I want you to speak up. It’s only me after all, so we should be comfortable with each other, right?”

“Of course”, you say, “I’m sorry, it’s just-”, your tongue darts out to wet your chapped lips, his eyes discreetly following the movement.

“I think you know that I’m not…used to this.”

He hums. “I’m aware. But it’s something we can work on, don’t you think?”

“…Right”, you agree, voice almost coming out like a whisper.

“I’m glad then”, he nods, amusement tangled in his gentle tone. “And stop apologizing when there’s nothing to apologize for. You’re doing just fine.”

“Right, I’m sor-“, you stop yourself, realizing what you were about to say again. You rub the right side of your face, a strained chuckle escaping you. “I guess old habits die hard.”

Geto’s eyes flicker back and forth between your face and your body, taking in the way your back is slightly hunched, making yourself smaller than you actually are, and how one of your fingers now restlessly taps against the old, wooden desk.

And what you – usually so attentive, so observant – don’t notice is how his eyes then drift to your opened bag, revealing all the books, papers and other little belongings of yours. One item in particular catches his eye, calling to him like the apple to Eve in the Garden of Eden, promising his doom. He has to surpress a pleased chuckle – it’s a picture of him, on a day where he was out with Satoru in the city, checking out a newly released game after Satoru relentlessly begged Geto to come with him. Satoru is cropped out of this photo, the focus lies entirely on Geto.

You truly manage to capture everything, don’t you?

[ihopeinevergetsoberr]

Who says I’m sharing that bath with you?

female anatomy for reader (no use of y/n, gender-neutral pronouns)

nsfw, fluffy smut basically word count: 1900~ english is not my first language. if you spot any mistakes (especially grammar ones), any typos/misspelled words, or if you have any advice for me in general: please let me know. reblogs and comments are highly appreciated.

art cr: @arcanescribbles

"Have some mercy on yourself," you mumble, wrapping an arm around his slender waist, and its thinness has you puzzled and somewhat concerned again. He doesn't hesitate. Allows you to place that weary head on his shoulder, to nuzzle into the crook of his neck — a pleasant relief in the guise of your heat, of rhythmic breath tickling his slimline skin.

"You can't work that much,” you remind him, trying to hide your evident worry behind a light-hearted chuckle.

“Have you ever heard of a proper greeting?” Viktor quirks an eyebrow, and his deft hand quickly grabs yours to do a thing that never fails to make your heart shrink: has you melting at the feeling of his dry, warm lips on your knuckles yet again.

“Hug is a proper greeting,” you protest with a slightly offended scoff, burying your nose into the gorgeous mess of his hair — all unkempt strands and a sturdy scent of something pleasant, yet not exactly definable.

“Not when it comes with scolding,” Viktor releases your hand, the touch of his lips lingering on your skin, and he turns around, forcing you to break the embrace for a second — which you do reluctantly. But now you get to face him, and it certainly feels like a much bigger win.

A win and another reason to give him a lecture. Viktor initiates eye contact, runs a hand along the perfect curve of your hips, hoping that his gentle touch is a good enough distraction from his terribly deep eye-bags — so treacherously confirming your concerns about his sleep schedule (or the lack of such, to be precise).

"You've gotten thinner," you state with a sad frown, looking Viktor up and down. "And you need a nap," you continue, tangling two fingers into his hair. "And a bath.”

“I’ve missed you terribly, and that’s the first thing you mention when I finally have you in my arms?” Viktor cooes, staring at you with a guilty smile — your love-sick genius, always exhausted yet so unexplainably handsome in his own special way.

You scoff again, wrapping your arms around his neck and gently pressing him against the desk — a small gesture of care that allows his body better support without the cane.

“Have you eaten today?” you carefully ask, watching his expression closely.

“Maybe,” he grudgingly answers, and his amber eyes are lancing right through you in the dull light of his lab — tired, attentive, pretty.

“I don’t like that answer." Your voice is a sweet purr against his skin, and he winces as you slide a hand down his chest, fixing his vest for him.

“You’re being incredibly annoying today,” he informs you, pressing a quick peck to your lips. A brief one, barely palpable, too fleeting to give you a proper taste. “Perhaps I should appease you.”

“If you want to appease me, a kiss like that won’t do.”

“Demanding, are we?” He quirks an eyebrow, casually sitting down at his desk, squeezing your waist in a playful attempt to pull you onto his lap. But you don’t move an inch. Not until he kisses you properly, at least.

He gets the hint. Gently grabs your chin, pressing your noses together — kissing the right way this time, deep and slow, with his tongue brushing your bottom lip before slipping into your open mouth — it’s almost lewd when that small motion steals a surprised moan out of you. A kiss of a hungry, fervently missing his lover man. Your man.

“Better?” His question is rhetorical at this point. He knows he left you amazed and dizzy once again — your messy breath is giving it all away. But Viktor wouldn’t be Viktor if he hadn’t asked. The incorrigible tease at his best behavior.

“Much better.”

You give him the reassurance he’s been seeking, adding the missing touch to this affectionate gesture by nuzzling into his embrace, and he hums, satisfied with the solace you’ve brought him so easily with the mere power of your presence.

“So… is my darling appeased now?”

“Relatively.” You laugh, and a self-assured smirk plasters smugly across his face. “It won’t save you from having dinner with me tonight though.”

“Is that so? Well, I appreciate the effort, and the fact that you came here just to visit your sick, touch-starved man, but I’m afraid I still have work to do—“

“I’m not here just to visit you,” you cut him off, as one of your hands slips off his neck straight to cup his sharp knee. “I’m here to collect you. I’m stealing you home with me.”

“Oh no.” He cracks an exaggeratedly offended expression, but judging from the still present on his face grin — he’s actually rather pleased with your intentions. “Being abducted definitely doesn’t sound appealing to me at all.”

“That’s right.” You nod, nudging him softly. “I’ll even hold you hostage if that’s what it takes to bathe you and get you into bed.”

“But what a horrific torture!” he pulls away, slamming a hand against his chest with a low giggle — it lands on his sternum with a muffled slap, right where his thudding heart is. “How ever will I survive that?”

“I believe your fate is inevitable, so you better just accept it.”

“How unfortunate,” he murmurs, pulling you closer, and you gasp, allowing him to lay his cheek against your chest. “Can’t wait to end up in that bath with you,” he whispers, and you hitch in breath, your shaky hands stop massaging his scalp.

“Who says I’m sharing that bath with you?” you tease light-heartedly, feeling his grip tighten around your waist.

“Me.” His response is firm and simple, yet still maddening enough for you to go weak in the knees. Apparently, his nap is being delayed again.

***

Bath with Viktor is a death sentence — a long and squirming one, of countless orgasms and moans loud enough to wake up the whole Piltover. You tried, you really did, to talk him out of it, to make him wait until at least after dinner, but he’s stubborn and knows damn well that you can’t resist him. So all your warnings about how he needs some rest first were muffled mercilessly by his tongue buried deep inside you. At this point, you’re not even sure whether he’s really that into devouring you, or if he’s just trying to prove you wrong, to show you that he’s never tired when it comes to eating you out.

He has you sitting on the edge of the bathtub, legs resting on his covered in crescent nail marks shoulders, and you tug, tug, tug on his hair as he tongue-fucks you through yet another insane release. If only he could smile right now, which was obviously impossible in his position, he would definitely give you the most provoking signature smirk. So you mentally thank his passion for giving head, since it’s the one to blame for his inability to destroy you even more with those grins and his witty dirty-talk right now. He has you right where he wants you: with your thighs wrapped tightly around his head, with your slick getting quite literally everywhere — his tongue, his chin, some on his chest, even. And when you slam your head against the wall, light-headed and breathless, he knows it’s time to do a particularly vicious thing — to suck on your abused clit so hard he might as well just suck the damn soul out of you while he’s at it.

Too much. Overwhelmingly so. And those sweat drops forming on his forehead, and the way he digs his wet fingers into the soft flesh of your legs, and the way he laps up so thoroughly—

“Gonna cum.” You gather the last strengths in your possession to mumble an illegible warning and the skillful bastard between your thighs only picks up pace, leaving you wondering how his tongue is still intact after all that frantic motions inside your cunt. But the technique is rather impressive. You stare at him, wide-eyed and with your lower lip bitten. His sinful gaze meets yours with a guttural rattle when you grip a strand of his dark hair so hard your knuckles turn white. You want to tell him how good his mouth feels, how indescribably hot he looks kneeling in the bathtub, how attractive his skin glistens right now, in the warm water. But the words are unnecessary. Your precious cussing as you come undone on his agile tongue is the best existing compliment to him.

So you deliver. He coaxes the third orgasm out of you. Leaves you throbbing, making one of your shaking legs slip off his slick shoulder into the water with a loud splash. He licks the remnants of you tauntingly slow off his swollen lips, watching your every convulsion closely, and he’s so proud of himself that it almost re-turns you on all over again.

“Look at you.” His sultry whisper reminds you that his ability to be a smartass is back.

“Viktor—“ You suffocate, grabbing his shoulder to hold on for dear life, so you don’t fall out of the tub completely. He chuckles, carefully pulling you back into the water, thoughtful as always, like the gentleman he is. Well, if rearranging your guts with that tortuous tongue and thick cock could be considered something gentlemen do, of course.

He tastes like you now. His tongue is somewhat sour, much puffier in comparison to yours, and it’s not that animate anymore — he pushes it into your mouth rather lazily, evidently worn out by the intercourse.

“I thought the purpose of this bath was to get me cleaned, not dirty,” he whispers with a filthy giggle, wiping your slick off his chin. You roll your eyes, admitting that the single thing stopping you from biting him for that joke is a complete lack of energy. Admitting that he’d just one-upped every single man you've slept with before. Once again.

“Oh, fuck you.” You giggle back, nuzzling into his chest, and it feels so gentle — the lust is gone and the only thing left between you two is pure affection; divine, immaculate, expressed through the softness of your body and the sharpness of his.

“I would be a liar if I said it doesn’t sound tempting, but I don’t believe you’re in a state to do that, my love,” Viktor teases, but you don’t talk back. He left you witless. Too fucked out for your own liking and just perfect for his. “Do you think you can make it to the kitchen?” he asks, pointing at your wobbly legs.

“Yeah.” You hesitate for a second, reluctant to get out of the warm bath. “And you?”

“Oh, I’m not hungry.” Viktor shakes his head, and his response dramatically increases your urge to pinch him. That wasn’t the deal!

“No. Not a chance, you’re not skipping dinner again.”

“But I’ve already had dinner. Well. In a way,” he whispers, as the corners of his mouth curl into another insufferable smirk, and it takes a good ten-second uncomfortable pause for you to understand the pun.

“Eating pussy is not an actual meal,” you frown, pulling away.

“And that’s so unfortunate, don’t you think? At least that way, I’d never skip them…”

“Viktor!”

[yazmarina]

radio check

for the love circuit series

—ignored by his driver academy, driving a shit car, and a dnf before turn one. zak has enough to deal with and you are the perfect outlet.

zak o'sullivan (f2) x fem!race engineer reader

warnings/notes: smut, unprotected sex, semi-clothed sex, workplace romance, creampie, hair pulling, slight biting

a/n: starting a series when i have another ongoing? more likely than you think

"Zak, wait—"

The driver brushes past you as you attempt to stop him, wanting to have a brief word with him before he goes back to the F2 paddock. An exasperated huff escapes you as his figure quickly saunters down the pitlane, ignoring you.

You try your best to understand. His race was over before he even got past the first turn.

"Zak! At least tell me what happened." You try once more, catching up to him. You glance back at the pit wall where Victor's race engineer and Sébastien are looking on worriedly. You flash them a thumbs up and make a mental note to shoot them a text that you'll keep Zak in line long enough for him to at least toughen out the debrief.

"Shouldn't you already know what happened? You're the engineer," Zak deadpans, avoiding your eyes and weaving through the people in the pitlane.

You draw in a long breath and grasp at his arm, making sure to dig your perfectly manicured nails into his skin through his suit. Just to prove a point. Mustering all your might, you maneuver him off the actual pit straight and toward the back of the garages.

No words are uttered as the two of you walk further and further away from the track, both of you aware that there is much to be said, about each other, to each other, to the team.

You drop his arm and try to shuffle ahead, wanting nothing more than to get to the truck quickly so no one has to see the daggers you're staring at each other.

You yank the truck door open as you walk up to it. You step aside, turning to Zak who's giving you a less-than-pleased expression.

"Get in," you practically bark. Zak makes no protest and steps in, you following close behind.

The door closes and Zak lets out a frustrated sigh. He sinks into the small couch, hunched over and head hanging low.

"What's going on?" You ask, standing over him like a mother admonishing a child. He doesn't say anything and makes no move to look at you.

You let out your own breath and rip the headset off from around your neck, dropping it onto the small coffee table situated in front of the couch. You study your initials etched on the headset for a moment, reminding you that you are his engineer, you are his guidance. You start to think if maybe you've failed tremendously at just that.

"Zak," you begin, cautious in your approach. "Did you know you jumped the start? You've never made these mistakes this year. What changed?"

For the first time since you got to the truck, Zak raises his head and looks straight at you, expression stony.

"You're really going to ask me that?" Zak returns almost petulantly.

A scoff escapes you. "I'm asking because I want to help you."

Zak suddenly stands, startling you as he crowds into your space. He's so much taller and he practically looms over you. You can feel the anger simmering off him.

"Tell me. Where's Franco right now?" Zak asks plainly.

It clicks in your head faster than you can anticipate. Of course. It's about that.

"Zak, that's out of your control." You attempt to take on an appeasing tone. "If Williams wants to rush your fellow rookie up into Formula 1, that's their choice."

"I was one of those choices, _______," Zak insists, running a hand through his already disheveled hair.

You give him a long, hard stare. There's a crease between his eyebrows, his lips drawn together tightly. He's breathing hard and a vein pulses in his neck. Normally, you'd allow yourself to admire just how handsome he is right before or after a race. You're not blind and you're not going to deny yourself the simple pleasure of admitting that, yes, Zak is attractive. And he's kind, oh so kind, thanking the team, thanking you even when his race weekends don't always turn out the best.

But right now, with everything that went down in the sprint, it hardly seems appropriate to daydream of such things.

"I don't want to burden you with advice and solutions when you clearly need something else right now," you begin. "Why don't you just take a minute and we'll talk later."

Zak doesn't seem pleased with this. He lets out a sound of disbelief, turning his back to you and pacing around the cramped space.

You get it. He wants to fight. He wants to prove a point.

"Zak," you say a litle more sternly. "You can't let yourself make these mistakes just because you're mad at your driver academy."

"I know that!" Zak bellows. You flinch, taking a step back. He's never raised his voice at you, or at all, in the time that you've known him.

He curses under his breath, pressing his fingers into his eyes. "I'm sorry," he says. "I don't know what's happening to me,"

A pinch of sympathy blooms in your chest and you approach him, arm outstretched. You lay a reassuring hand on his arm, squeezing gently. Zak exhales, dropping his hand from his face to look at you.

You've seen this look before. And you're not going to lie and say you haven't looked at Zak. As in really looked, eyes wandering where a race engineer's shouldn't, especially not towards their assigned driver. Perhaps a large factor in this is that you're close in age, something you never really see in these situations, with most engineers having a full decade on their drivers or at least a few years.

It's not ideal and it's not allowed.

"You will get there. Properly. In your own time," you say. "I'm sorry if I can't get you out of whatever you're feeling right now."

Zak steps closer and you already know what it is he's asking. You wind your arms around his torso, letting him engulf you in a hug, his face burying itself in your shoulder.

You haven't hugged like this since Monaco but even that was different. That was a happy hug, a shared victory. This just feels like you trying to keep him together, holding literal pieces of him in your hands so he doesn't implode on himself.

"Can you...can you stay here for a bit?" Zak asks against your shirt and your resolve is immediately softened. You run a hand up and down his back as if to soothe him.

"Sure," you agree, pulling away. You hold Zak at arm's length, observing him.

He avoids your eyes still and you can see his jaw clench.

So he's still upset.

"Zak."

His eyes meet yours and the air shifts. You're still holding onto his arms, anchoring him to you. Zak glances down at your lips and a small gasp escapes you.

Surely, he isn't thinking of that...?

"What do you need?" You ask.

It's an innocent question. Zak is in pain, though not physically, but you know he must be seeking comfort somehow. But there's a hidden hope underneath your offer. That maybe he'd say he needs you, more than a driver needs their race engineer. It's a stupid kind of hope, bordering on delusion, but you hold on to it the same.

"I don't know," Zak says. This perplexes you for a moment but then you realize that he must not know or at least doesn't want to voice out what he really means.

You can feel it in the way his hands hover awkwardly at your sides.

You reach up and take hold of one side of his face. Zak's eyes immediately close and he inhales. His jaw ticks yet again.

"Let me," you whisper, letting your other hand settle on his neck, just above his race suit collar.

There's a flash of confusion in Zak's eyes as he opens them and you think that maybe you've read it wrong, Maybe you're crossing a line that's not worth it at all.

But Zak's own hands settle on your waist and before you can second guess yourself even more, you lean up, nearly on your toes as you meet Zak's lips with your own.

The spark is instant; Zak pulls you flush against him and immediately licks into your mouth, groaning when you so easily let him. Your fingers fumble at the zip of his suit, yanking it down as you attempt to unclothe him as fast as you can.

"Bathroom," you urge, pushing him off before tugging him further into the back of the truck.

It's barely wide enough to fit you both but you figure that doing it in the open, where all the team members gather, would be too much. You're not that shameless.

The bathroom door slams shut behind Zak and he wastes no time pressing you against the sink, the counter digging against your tailbone. All discomfort is forgotten, however, when Zak pushes a knee between your legs.

"You really know...how to...make me feel better," Zak manages between heavy breaths and wet kisses against your neck. You suppress a moan, unwilling to let him know just how much this is affecting you.

"Of course," you breathe out. "I know you."

Zak returns to your lips, hands slipping beneath your ART uniform, fingers expertly unhooking your bra from behind. You whimper when you feel it come undone, Zak already groping you beneath the fabric.

"How far?" Zak asks, voice quiet, hands stopping their movements.

"What?" You ask in a daze, the question not quite registering.

"How far will you let me...," Zak trails off. His eyes seem clearer now, as if it's dawned on him what the situation is.

He's about to fuck his race engineer.

"All the way, if you want," comes your immediate reply. And you mean it. You want it.

Zak's eyes zero in on yours. "Yeah?"

You nod. "Yeah."

There is no hesitation in the way he discards his race suit and bottom fireproofs, elbows banging against the door and the wall as he tries to rid himself of all the barriers between you and him. You're pressed up against him as you undo your own pants, shimmying out of it and your underwear at record speed.

A startled cry escapes you as you feel yourself lift off the ground but you're immediately appeased when you feel Zak's firm arms beneath your thighs, gently letting you down on the sink countertop. You laugh in disbelief and for the first time this weekend, you see Zak crack a genuine smile before he leans in to retake your lips in his.

You shift around uncomfortably as the cold tile presses against your bare skin but you halt all movements and thoughts when you feel Zak press two fingers against your aching core.

He rubs at your wetness slowly, almost lazy in the way he swipes between your folds. You shiver under his touch, forehead resting against the side of his neck.

"You don't have to be so careful," you quip, smiling as you tangle your fingers into his hair. Zak's laugh rumbles through and you pull back just enough to look at him.

"But I need my race engineer," Zak teases back with a grin. "I don't wanna hurt her too much."

You burst out laughing, circling your arms around his neck. A few seconds pass by with the two of you just staring, taking a quiet moment to let it all sink in.

"You won't," comes your reassurance. "I can take it."

Zak's bottom lip slips between his teeth and his eyes darken at your encouragement. Your heart pounds as he pries your legs apart, reaching down to angle himself with your entrance.

You grip the counter below you as you lean back against the mirror, mewling, Zak's length pushing into you. You catch Zak glance down at where you're joined and he quickly curses, averting his eyes, as if the mere sight of his cock sheathed inside you would push him to the brink.

"Please," is all it takes from you for Zak to slam his hips against yours. Over and over, he pulls out and pushes back in, the sounds obscene in the cramped space of the bathroom.

He braces himself against the same mirror, which you now notice has fogged up. Your legs lock around Zak's waist, caging him in against you. It's effortless, how he holds you in place, pinning you down with his weight, his other hand gripping at your hip. Your eyes roll back into your head as Zak loses all inhibition, fucking you as if it's his last time doing so.

Zak glances at the mirror and trains his eyes on your face right after. He takes hold of your jaw, imploring you to look at him.

"Stand up," Zak commands, already pulling out. The abrupt stop jars you but you obey nonetheless, shakily sliding off the counter.

You gasp as Zak quickly turns you, pressing your front into the sink. He reaches over and wipes the condensation gathered on the mirror. Your reflection stares back at you, Zak's broad figure a contrast from behind.

Almost instinctively, you bend over, watching the mirror in fascination, as if mesmerized at the image playing out.

"Good girl," Zak praises, slipping back inside without any resistance. Your mouth falls open as he continues, both his hands now keeping you in place by the waist.

You practically collapse against the sink with how hard Zak is going, your knuckles turning white as you hold on to the edges of the countertop.

Zak doesn't seem pleased with this and you're abruptly yanked back, the sting in your scalp eliciting a moan from you. He twists his hand even more in your hair, forcing your head back.

"Zak!" You cry out, body nearly going limp as you're overwhelmed from all sides. He's still slamming into you, his arm now circling your torso to keep you still, his other hand pulling at your hair.

"Needed this," Zak mutters straight into your ear. "Needed you."

You whimper, forcing yourself to look in the mirror, meeting Zak's eyes through the foggy reflection.

"You have me. You can have me. Always."

Zak grunts, your words seemingly spurring him on as he loses all control now, the rhythm he set up gone as he chases his release.

"How do I get you there? Tell me what you need," Zak urges through gritted teeth. You guide his hand down to your core and he understands.

Both of you forget to suppress your noises, using each other to reach the edge. Zak's fingertips toy with your clit and your walls clench down tighter and tighter around his cock. You can vaguely hear Zak repeating your name over and over through the blood rushing in your ears and you're pretty sure your mouth is moving of its own accord, cursing and begging.

And all at once, Zak stills with a groan, teeth digging into the fabric of your shirt, almost painful as he finishes inside you. You grind against his hand, determined to get there too, and eventually your vision whites out and you cum all over Zak's length.

It takes a full minute for both of you to recover, you slumping over the sink, your whole body aching and stinging in different places. Zak rests his head on your shoulder from behind, his arms cradling you almost reverently.

You straighten up as best as you can, peering over your shoulder. Zak pulls out and quickly reaches over to yank a few sheets of tissue off the roll next to the sink. He hands them to you and you accept it with a giggle, wiping yourself clean.

You discard the soiled tissues before turning to face Zak fully. His hair is stuck up in different directions and his eyes are watery but so much brighter than an hour ago. He grins, leaning in.

He kisses you, all soft and bashful. You pull away, cradling his face in your hands.

"Better?" You ask, running your thumb over his cheekbone. Zak smiles, holding your hand in place as he leans into your palm. He kisses the inside of your wrist and you feel your heart come to a stop.

"Thank you," Zak whispers. You nod, offering another smile.

"Maybe we can debrief on our own over dinner later?" Zak hurriedly adds, eyebrows raised and tone hopeful.

"Sure," you answer before you can even really think it through.

[cevansbrat0007]

Bad Days

Summary: Ari helps you get through a particularly bad day...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Insecure Reader, Ari Being A Menace, Discussions of Poor Body Image, Body Insecurities, Name Calling, Mentions of Disordered Eating, Clothed Male Nude Female (CMNF), Oral Sex (Fem Rec Implied), Ass Slapping, Spanking (mentioned), Pet Names, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

“I don’t think I wanna do this.” You grumble as you walk into the living room. You lean down to hand your companion a glass of scotch, offering him a half smile when he gently takes it and places it on a nearby coffee table. “Seriously.”

Instead of responding, he simply pats his lap and waits. 

“Okay. How about we don’t need to do this?” You try again, hating how relaxed his big body seems while taking up way too much space on your couch. 

Ari shrugs then, catching his plump bottom lip between his perfect teeth and waits. He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t demand. Doesn’t boss. He just waits.

For you.

“It’s stupid.” Your voice comes out softer now, more delicate. “And it’s not like it's gonna change anything.” 

Your Bounty Hunter cocks his head to the side, one tawny brow raised as he patiently waits for you to continue cycling through your list of objections. 

“I just have bad days sometimes.” Hot tears prick the backs of your eyes. But even though you’re quick to blink them away, you’re not quite fast enough. 

Ari studies you for a moment, his piercing blue eyes making your nipples pebble beneath the thin material of your silk robe. It made it hard to remember that you were technically in trouble. Which meant that was was about to happen could technically be construed as a punishment. 

“Then why don’t you be my good little Bird and have a seat, hm?” Your man’s deep voice comes out thick and rough. And while you have a feeling that he wants to make you obey, you know he also wants you to come to him on your own.

“Can the robe stay on, maybe?” You ask, your freshly polished toes digging into the short, plush carpet. “What if I get cold? Or–”

“You won’t.” He softly interjects, widening his jean-covered thighs just a little. Because although you didn’t know this, he’d already made a couple quick adjustments to the thermostat just in case. The last thing your man wanted to do was make you uncomfortable – at least not like that.

And then he holds out his hand for your robe. You stand there glaring at him, the two of you engaged in a silent battle of wills. He wins, of course. But only because you have nothing to throw at him. 

Except for your goddamned robe, which the smug bastard manages to catch midair. 

Ari tosses it to the other side of the couch before returning his attention to you. He’s pleased when you take a tentative step toward him, followed by another. And then another. The next thing you know, you’re slowly easing your nude body onto his lap…

And into his waiting arms. 

Immediately he wraps them around you, drawing you closer to his hard, muscled body. It never fails to make you feel soft and feminine – even when your mind was busy screaming at you that you were anything but. 

Today you felt dumpy, fat, and unattractive. 

But then here was this handsome man, holding onto you as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him. It was enough to make you start crying all over again. Just like you had this earlier morning.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, swallowing the lump in your throat as you work to speak.

“I gotta be honest with you, baby.” Ari murmurs after a few minutes, his warm lips skimming over your brow. “I didn’t like what I heard come outta that pretty mouth this morning. Especially didn’t like it when you called yourself a pig.”

“Why?” You choke out a wet laugh. “Would you rather I have compared myself to some other barnyard animal?”

You’re rewarded for your snark with a sharp slap to your left flank, which suddenly has you burying your face in the crook of his neck. 

Oops. Guess that wasn’t the response he was looking for.

“No.” He grunts as you feel his fingers dig into the tender flesh of your thighs. You had no doubt that you’d be sporting a delicious set of fresh bruises on your skin by tomorrow morning. 

“Oh.” Whimpering softly, you wrap your arms around his neck as you try to ignore the way his possessive, proprietary touch makes your body flare to life.    

“I wanna know why you felt the need to make the comment at all. Regardless of whether you knew I was listening or not.”

And there was the rub. You hadn’t expected him to come during your meltdown, let alone actually hear you berating yourself to the degree that you had been. Had you known you’d had an audience you would’ve at least had the sense to lock yourself in the bathroom or something, but instead you’d just had to cry your heart out in the middle of your bedroom floor. 

You must’ve looked so pathetic to him in that moment.

“Stop.” Ari commands, the single word spoken like a heated caress against your ear. “Whatever mean thought you’re thinkin’, I’m tellin’ you to knock it off right now.”

“H–how?” Your question comes out muffled thanks to the fact that your face is still hidden in his neck. 

“You have a tendency to tense up whenever you’re being unkind to yourself, sweet girl.” He replies with a shrug before forcing you to pull away from him so that he can look into your eyes. 

“I–I do?” No one had ever thought to share that with you before.

“Yep. Sure do.” He pinches your nipple as his gaze briefly drops to your bare cunt. “As your man, it’s my job to notice these things. Even when all I wanna do is bury my fingers knuckle-deep inside that tight little pussy until you’re drippin' and speaking in tongues, this shit comes first.”

Your hips jerk of their own volition when Ari reaches down to tenderly cup your sensitive core, massaging your damp flesh. Instantly you feel your slick honey coating his palm, making your cheeks heat. 

It didn’t help that you always seemed to end up naked around this man while he stayed fully clothed. In the past you’d only read about that kind of power dynamic. But these days you were beginning to enjoy it. 

“So tell me what has my woman being so hard on herself today? Be honest, now.” He presses as his fingers go trail their way along your belly, an action that has you immediately sucking in your stomach.

“Can we please turn off the lights?” You ask, feeling somehow both shy and stubborn at the same time. “At least some of them?”

“No.” He hisses back, not to be outdone. “You’re too beautiful not to look at, Bird. I might as well be a moth drawn to your flame, that’s how much hope there is for me these days.” 

“But I hate my belly. It’s so…soft.” You tell him, finally willing to admit defeat. “And I pulled all these sweaters out of storage today – from my thinspiration pile – and they fit even worse than they did then when I first bought them.”   

Your Bounty Hunter stares down at you for a moment, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Thinspiration?” 

“Yeah.” You hiccup, appreciating when he offers you a sip of his scotch, even when it makes you cough. “It’s like when you buy a shirt or a dress – or in my case a bunch of sweaters – that are too small for you so you can use them as inspiration to…you know…finally drop the weight.”

“Oh, Jesus H. Fucking Christ.” He snarls under his breath before taking a deep pull of his drink. “That’s what all this was about?”

Sheepishly you nod, as if finally realizing just how ridiculous you sounded. But at the time all of it had made perfect sense. “I figured it might help keep me from eating…too much.”

“Sweetheart…” His deep voice rumbles low in his chest as he polishes off what’s left of his scotch. “Fuck those sweaters, fuck the jeans, and whatever the fuck else is in that stupid fucking thinspiration box, or bag, or whatever. I mean it.”

One of Ari’s big hands reaches out to take hold of your chin, making it damn near impossible to look away from him. 

“You and me are gonna get rid of that box.”

“But, Beast –” 

“No.” His grip tightens ever so slightly. “That’s not good for you, baby. It never was. And I don’t ever want to hear you disrespecting yourself like that again. I really don’t. Broke my fucking heart.” Ari leans in to brush his mouth over yours, his free hand taking every advantage to stroke and caress its way along your body. “And it really pissed me the fuck off.”

“I’m sorry.” You mumble as fresh tears spill over onto your cheeks. “I–I’ll try to work on it.”

“These curves of yours are a gift from God, you hear me?” He muses as kisses away a tear. “Or the Devil himself. Depends on who you’re asking I suppose. There’s nothing I love more than watching those hips sway in one of your pretty sundresses, or seeing that luscious ass bounce every time I spank it.”

“You do seem to have a hard time keeping your hands to yourself, Sir.” You respond playfully through a watery grin. 

“Mmhm. The only thing better is when you’re busy holdin’ me hostage.” Ari flips your positions so that he’s on top of you know, effectively pinning you against the couch so that he can grind his denim-covered erection against your damp folds. “Keepin’ me trapped as your love slave while I work my ass off to satisfy that greedy pussy long until we both pass out”

“Hey…” You pout, shivering when he nips at your bottom lip. He tugs it into his mouth, sucking hard before releasing it with a soft pop. “I thought you liked the job.” You press your hands against either side of his bearded face, pulling him down for a proper kiss. 

“Oh, I love the job. Gorgeous girl. Great pay, benefits.” He nuzzles a path of hot, wet kisses along the column of your throat, loving how it makes you giggle. “All the pussy I can eat.”

“Wow.” You breathe, torn somewhere between lust and humor. 

“But in all seriousness, Bird, the only thing I ever want is to see you happy. Keeping that box, holding on to whatever the fuck that was supposed be…” You press a finger to his lips, pausing him mid-sentence.   

“I don’t want to just throw them away. I mean, they’ve still got the tags on them and everything. But there is a women’s shelter in the next county. Do you think maybe we could..?”

Ari nods once, giving you a warm smile as he does. Knowing that you’d managed to please him has a fresh wave of slickness coating your already slippery thighs.

“As long as you agree to let me keep you naked and stuffed full of my cock for the rest of the weekend, we can do whatever the fuck you want.” He hitches one of your legs over his shoulder, dragging his tongue along the soft skin of your calf. “And since you seemed to listen so well, I suggest you lay back and relax, because, baby…”

“We both just earned ourselves a treat.”

END

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Marillenfleck in Winter

König x FemReader

Fluffy Fluff Fluff!

Feed me Seymore Feed me!! <<< 🍖

"We can do this-"

You muttered to yourself and then down at your swollen stomach. Feeling the fluttering kicks of the child locked inside of you- assuming that was them agreeing.

"Hell yeah-"

Stepping forward with all the confidence you could muster as you carefully lowered the breaded pork cutlet into the hot oil and watching it carefully bubble as you let it settle.

Stepping back as the oil reacted for a moment before settling-

Two months ago before your husband left for his mission was lying in bed with you, his hand on your stomach as he reminisced-

'It is moments like this I almost wish to return to my Village just to show you off.. and share in some food with you' He mused, you looking at him in surprise.

'Wait we don't live near your home?' You say surprised, Having always assumed that König had chosen the secluded cabin 40 minutes from the closest village cause he was familiar with it. He chuckled at this and shook his head-

'No, I'm from near Dürnstein-'

Which was on the otherside of the country from were the two of you lived- You silently vowed to bring at least a taste of his home to him-

So for two months you'd been gathering ingredients and experimenting to make some folds from his home-town.

Did you have any real idea what you were doing?- No.

Did you know if these were ment to be eaten together?- Hell No.

Were you trying your best? Absolutely.

Speaking of trying your best- it was dead winter, 7inches of snow a day easy and what doesn't grow in winter?

Apricots-

So many Apricots in most of these recipes from near his home. Apricots cakes, wines, pastries, even in sauces with pork!

So you finding apricots was the most important thing. You tried the internet but didn't trust the quality from most places or they were dried which wouldn't have worked-

That's when you ventured out being forced to touch grass- Well snow in this case.

Market after market, looking in their freezer section to produce you couldnt find shit for the first 2 weeks of this adventure.

You were honestly thankful you were pregnant since when you went to the village closest to you asking for apricots in dead of winter- people assumed it was a desperate cry for a craving and a older women gave you a bag of them from her deep freeze she had saved. You of course paid her handsomely for the kind gift

This thrn started your dark road of trying to figure out these fucking recipes-

You tried every recipe and varient you could, pulling up photos of restaurants near your husband's origin and trying to match them-

Another blessing of being pregnant was being able to eat any failed attempts or trying recipes that wasn't going to be fed to König.

However the time had finally come! König was going to be home within the next hour, having called you the night before from his train station to tell you his arrival and you'd fluttered to make sure everything looked perfect.

"Alexa! Set a timer for 20 minutes!" You called out, flipping the cutlet seeing the even golden crust.

Reaching over you check the goulash stewing in the pot and saw it was almost done. Stirring it once before you checked on the bread dumplings and pulled them from the boiling water- You hadn't made these before in your experimental 2 months so you were excited!

Bacon Bread dumplings- Time to taste!

Taking a big bite you paused- truthfully confused over what the fuck you'd just put into your mouth. Chewing for a while as you tried to figure out if you'd done something wrong or if your taste was more off then you thought due to the baby- after the second bite you knew it was the baby and not the food especially whem you spooned some of the goulash ontop.

"...You know what, I'm just gonna blame you for this-" You said pointing at your stomach which earned another fluttering feeling as you finished the dumpling and stew sample.

Pulling the cutlets you let them sit on a wire rack as you plate the potatos and salad Konig liked- However your eyes landed on the centerpiece of this meal and what you were so focused one. The Marillenfleck Cake.

Still cooling as the beautiful Fluffy pastry showed off its shivered almost and the delicate apricots baked into its Fluffy self.

A summer apricot staple you'd manage to drag into winter!

You suddently heard the sound of the truck pulling up to your home, jumping in excitement you set the finished goulash down on the table and rushed around for the final touches.

Setting the plates down you mentally high-five yourself and rush to the front room as you hear König walk in. Grumbling about the snow outside as he kicked off his boots-

"Welcome Home Honey" You say cheerfully, wadling yourself over to your man- He had his mask off, most likely shoved away in his pockets in desperate need of a wash and he seemed to have showered at base since the black paint wasnt around his eyes-

Soft gray eyes greeted you and König gave a wide smile, reaching out and scooping you quickly in his arms and kissing your lips.

"I have missed you Liebling, You and the baby are well?" He asked softly as his gloved hand touched the swell of your stomach.

"Yes, We are fine. I'm so glad your home" You say cheerfully, feeling your eyes get misty already just by having him home.

"I have a surprise for you" You say cheerfully and jump, making the man chuckle at your physical excitement or attempt since the belly seemed to keep your feet planted.

"Oh?" He chimed amused, peeling off his coat and gloves as you pulled him to the kitchen and waiting set dining table.

When König saw all the food, his heart fluttered. He saw how much time this took, slowly stepping forward as he gazed over your heard work in total shock.

"(Y/N)- You did so much.. You should be resting not slaving in the kitchen" He said softly, looking at you in worry for your effort in the fantastic meal set on the table.

"I wanted to give you a nice surprise, You hungry?" You saw with a smile- Konig chuckling at this as he nodded, pulling out your chair so you could sit first before sitting himself.

Severing plates König couldn't help but laugh at the wide variety you'd made, from pork schnitzel and potato salad and the goulash and dumplings. Eating happily he hummed delight.

"I'm impressed! Very Gud Mein Liebling!" Demolishing the plates infront of him as the two of you sported casual conversation and König feeling your baby bump-

"And for dessert" You say cheerfully as you cut him a slice of the cake and set it before him. His face twisting in confusion.

"Liebling were did you get marillen {apricots} in winter?-" He asked genuinely confused as he cut into the pastry clearly doing a lot of mental math in trying to figure out how you manages this.

"It's a long story, but I got them!" You said cheerfully cutting open your own and taking a massive bite- Giving a laugh at how delicious it tasted and how you'd managed to not fuck anything up.

Raising a brow of this he hesitated ever so slightly before taking a bit of the dessert and paused, his eyes softening as an almost sad smile hit his lips.

"Konig?.." You say softly as he looked to you- His own eyes misty.

"I haven't had this cake since my Mutti made it for me before she passed-" He said softly, taking another bite of the dessert and smiling. Your heart Sinking at his words-

"I was always so scared to try it again since I knew it wouldn't taste the same" He smiled fondly as he reached out and pulled your seat close to him, love in his gaze.

"I don't know how- But youve made it taste just like the one she made" He said softly, wrapping his arm around you as he kissed your hair and you could feel the waves of emotion off of him.

"Danke my love" He said softly, lips still pressed to your hair as he held you tighter. Of course hormones not helping as tears rolled down your cheeks.

"Anytime"

[mieldreams]

Payal

Summary: Anakin Skywalker is the roommate of your best friend's crush. That's all. Well, he's also a pain in the ass. But could one dance and a lucky pair of payal change things?

pairing: Anakin Skywalker x desi!reader (or just reader who's familiar/involved with that culture, no physical descriptions involved)

Warnings: None, except for 'i haven't proofread a single fucking thing' :) sorry for the mistakes in advance.

A/n: wrote something on a whim again (this is the first ever time I've written a proper fanfic tho *_*). Happy navratri y'all

Edit: Here's some payal playbacks aka any moodboard/refs if you want to know (songs, outfits, word meanings etc.)

It was Navratri, the festival in honour of the Goddess Durga. Nine nights of colours, prayers, and a whole lot of dancing. Oh, and the sweets! You couldn't wait to just rot your teeth on those festive delicacies.

It was the 5th night of festivities and today's celebrations were mainly the daily prayer and the dandiya dance. The special event for today however, was the ladies' dance competition. Your best friend had practically dragged your ass to get your name registered along with hers and your other friend Pari's, a half-assed promise of treating you to your favourite food at that fancy restaurant on the other side of the city to bribe you into the elaborate bollywood-esque romance scheme to seduce her crush. "There's no seducing!" she whisper-shouted, standing at the booth where you had to give your name, her cheeks immediately heating up at your insinuation. "I just want him to... see me, you know?" and you couldn't help but mentally scoff at that, why was she so blind? "Plus the price is money," she added, smirking as she picked up the pen to write down the names.

"Well shit, you should've said that first girl, I'm always looking to make me some moolah" your smirk matching hers even though your brain was already exhausted just *thinking* about the hours of practice she was gonna make you do to make sure everything was perfect to the T. That was over a week back, and after hours of choreographing and practising and picking out the costumes, the day was here, and despite all the whining you had done during practice, you couldn't deny that you actually hoped that her plan worked. Was it because you were tired of your oblivious best friend and her equally oblivious man playing dog and the bone with their feelings? Nooo, you could never be tired of your darling best friend's endless rants about how 'handsome he looked at the cafeteria today, in his lucky white cashmere sweater his ex-grandma gifted him in 2019' (how did she know that?) or how 'it's so sad his little sister's goldfish died because it jumped into the pot of boiling water for tea, and they've invited us to its funeral' (what?). And it most definitely wasn't because you were starting to get sick of having to watch them make those nauseating googly eyes at each other every time you hung out, for the past year. (though you wondered if it would only get worse when they finally got together.)

That's right, when, because if those two failed to get their ship sailing after tonight, you were 100% planning on just walking up to each of them, asking them what time they're free for dinner and setting them up on a date yourself. Your mental planning however, was disrupted by the creaking of the metal gate to the lawn space that had been rented for the festival. You turned around, a smile immediately pulling on your lips at the sight of the said man you were downright ready to shake like a maraca till your best friend got her deserved confession (though you expected the same on her end as well, of course). But the smile immediately fell at the sight of another man walking in right behind him. Anakin. What the hell was he doing here? And truly, the scowl that pulled on your face was hardly your fault when his eyes met yours and his lips immediately turned up into that infuriating smirk as the two of them headed towards you. But before you could march up to him and demand why he was here, your best friend ran up to you, gripping your arm to stop herself from crashing into you (you supposed the accidental intervention was for the better, since asking him such a thing might only give him more reason to mock you, it was obvious he was here with Krish, your best friend's crush who was also very unfortunately college roommates with Anakin, seriously how did someone as sweet as that guy get stuck with a moron like him?).

"C'mon it's time for the competition to start, ours is literally the second performance!" She started to drag you by the arm only to stop immediately at the sight of Krish causing you to crash into her. "Are we sure you can dance in the competition when you can hardly manage to walk without stumbling?" his voice immediately caused you to raise your head, glaring daggers as you squared up to throw your own taunt about how he just had to be oh so special and wear black even though tonight's theme was white. Unfortunately, you were beaten by Krish as he elbowed Anakin harshly in the rib, making you snicker at his grunt of pain, before walking even closer towards your best friend. "Aamani... hi," Krish breathed out, shifting his weight from one foot to another. And though you wanted to roll your eyes at how his eyes seemed to literally twinkle as he looked at your best friend, or how he always took time to call her by her full name despite all her friends calling her Manu, like he just had to say it every time to even begin to appreciate her entire being that he was so clearly besotted with, you couldn't help the small smirk that tugged on your lips as you gently pried your arm out of her death grip. (when the hell did she get so strong?) ‘Let's leave them to it, then.’ You thought to yourself.

And with that you walked away towards the small stage, knowing they'd most likely not see or hear anything besides the other person for at least the next half hour. "They're not gonna leave each other's side for the rest of the night, are they?" Ugh, Anakin. How had you forgotten? and now he was following you. Great. "Well, they wouldn't normally, but we do have to perform our dance and we're up second, which means the lovebirds will have to sacrifice at least half an hour for final practice and the performance." Hold on, why were you entertaining him? You stopped suddenly and turned to him with a scowl, "and I'll have you know I can dance very well and I-" "Is that why you're wearing red? for the dance? I thought the theme was white today," the audacity this man had to interrupt you. "Oh did you? Is that why you instead wore black?" you popped a hip with a closed fist resting on your hipbone, raising a jeering eyebrow at him, his eyes immediately drawn to the movement and indirectly your exposed midriff and then the shiny white stud in your belly button. He gulped before quickly averting his eyes to the stage behind you. "I think they announced that they're gonna be starting the competition soon," he replied instead.

Oh shit.

"Good luck" was all he said before walking away towards the audience gathering up for the performances. Oh shit, you really had to find your best friend fast.

Half an hour later with your costumes readjusted and makeup re-touched you were ready to get on stage. You weren't worried about messing up as much as you were about not keeping the same amount of energy for the next half an hour. That's right, your original plans of going mostly unnoticed as your best friend's supporting dancer for a mere 4-5 minutes went down the drain the minute she blabbered about you being a dancer as a kid to the aunty from down the block who was arranging her own group dance performance and immediately downright ordered you to join her group as well. At the time you didn't mind much but now, now you were wondering if you could pretend to sprain your ankle after your first performance to avoid the other one. I mean a whole half an hour of continuous dancing? and worse, the traitor that was your best friend wasn't in the second one and so you'd been entirely alone with a bunch of strangers during the first few practice sessions. (you knew it wasn't her fault the lady didn't ask her to join but you were sure she might have accommodated another person considering it was a big dance number) So here you were now, about 30 seconds away from getting on stage, sending a quick prayer that you don't throw up at any point considering they were pretty much back-to-back dances. As soon as you heard your group being announced the three of you walked onto the stage to get in your positions. You used the brief gap before the music started to scan the huge crowd, immediately spotting Krish almost at the very front of the audience, closest to where Manu was standing, but Anakin wasn't beside him like you expected. Your eyes continuing their scan to find him in the crowd before you even realised what you were doing. Wait, why the hell are you looking for him? You need to focus on the count before the music starts.

And as soon as the music started your body naturally moved to the rhythm and beat, a light laughter bubbling in your chest as you felt the stress melt away with each step. You had forgotten just how fun being on stage actually was, and with the atmosphere of such joy and celebration it was that much livelier. Before you know it, the performance was over, Krish walking quickly to the side of the stage as you got off, still high on the adrenaline and euphoria of performing after so long, and everything had gone smoothly too. It was hard to keep the smile off your face, even more so when you saw Manu and Krish talk animatedly at the bottom of the stairs to the stage, her head thrown back, laughing at something he said and then nodding enthusiastically with a toothy grin. Her expression changing to that of shock for a brief second as Krish immediately picks her up to twirl her around, her laughter dancing in the cold night air once again. It was only your obnoxiously loud teasing whistle that broke their bubble, though only temporarily. You had to go back on stage in five minutes and you wanted to make sure that Manu had company since you wouldn't be by her side for at least the next half an hour. Though realistically you knew it was her who wouldn't be by your side for the rest of the night. Ah, young love... or whatever.

"So now that the two of you have finally been cured of your obliviosis, have fun kiddos," you smirked, "and make sure to be safe." You winked at the pair, earning you a half-hearted angry call of your name from Manu as Krish let out an awkward nervous chuckle, burying his face into her shoulder. Aww, you had embarrassed them. "What? I'm just saying, have her back by 11." you gave a pointed look at him to which he immediately straightened up, enthusiastically nodding to your words while Manu continued to glare at you. "Back by 11? What am I in middle school?" "If you were in middle school I'd want you home by 9 miss, just what the hell sorta parents did you have?" You looked down at your watch realising your 5-minute break was nearing its end. "Okay lovebirds, I gotta go, but seriously have her home safe if you guys decide to leave the ground," you said pointing a finger at Krish, "and you," your finger pointing at Manu now, "don't forget to text me when you're leaving and when you get back home, alright?" She left his arms to quickly walk up the stairs to the top where you stood, pulling you into a bear hug as she rocked you side to side without even giving you a chance to hug her back as she held your arms at your sides, "I'll text you." She freed you from the hug to squeeze your palms in hers, "I had a lot of fun with the dance, thank you. And good luck with your next dance, sorry I won't be there to watch it, I mean we could stay till it gets over. we'll have the rest of the night anyway. Hey Krish, maybe we should stay for–"

But you immediately cut her off, "absolutely not, you've been looking forward to this day for almost a whole month now." You shook your head as you saw her open her mouth to argue, "plus I know you have that scarf you knitted for him in your bag." you smirked as her eyes went wide with surprise, not having expected you to know that. "Pulling that lovely 'oh it's a cold night, isn't it? Here, I just so happen to have this beautiful scarf that I definitely didn't knit just for you, here, let me wrap it around your beautiful neck. Oh no, you don't have to give it back to me at the end of the night, I have a matching one at home that I totally didn't plan as a couple’s thing, no seriously you can keep it' on him? There couldn't be a better opportunity." You laughed as her ears became bright red, "I hate you and your Nancy Drew observation skills." she mumbled out of puffed cheeks before immediately pulling you into another hug. "I love you. Good luck." "Thanks, I love you." In the end, you were about 2 minutes late to your dance and the aunty's scary face as she hurriedly signalled you to get into your position made you cringe on the inside, but oh well whatever, there were so many people you doubted that anyone had noticed there was supposed to be another dancer. You were here now anyway. You were halfway through the dance, your back turned to the audience when you felt a sharp gaze on you. Weird, there were about 100 people watching you, why did you feel this one particular stare stand out? It was only when you completed the circle to turn to face the audience again that you immediately connect gazes with the sharp eyes you had felt on you. Anakin. He was standing at the very back, close to the water coolers and refreshment tables, leaning on one of the empty tables with his arms crossed. His gaze never leaving yours. For a second your thoughts drifted and you were annoyed at how good he looked in the black shimmery kurta, though the top 3 buttons being left unbuttoned was so unnecessarily extra. The sleeves folded over his forearms that stretched the fabric, his collarbones standing out from the open collar. Such a slut. But damn did he look fine. Wait, what the hell? Focus, focus, focus. You couldn't lose count mid-step. And tripping right now would mess up everyone's steps since it was a circular movement. Why the hell would you trip over him anyway? Ugh. And so you focused back on your steps, continuing to feel that strange unwavering gaze on you for the rest of your dance.

Half an hour later, you were entirely done with the dance competition. Your feet hurt, your stomach was grumbling every few seconds and you were sure you'd be getting a headache from being so close to the speakers for so long. Thankfully, the emcee had announced a short break for refreshments and such, before the rest of the dances and then the final event to end the night — the dandiya dance. Were you positively exhausted and maybe even getting real tired of all the dancing and loud music? Most definitely. But Manu had texted you saying they'd be back for the final dandiya dance and you were really hoping to get to dance at least once with her, you know, outside the competition, just for funsies sort of stuff. So your irritation? Nothing some tasty snacks and maybe a cold drink couldn't solve. That was until an unfortunately familiar face came into your view as he plopped into the seat right next to yours at the circular table. Not the two other tables that were entirely empty (wasn't he supposed to be some emo loner who preferred to sulk in a corner?) or even the chair on the other side of the table (though you wondered if having him directly in your line of sight would make it worse). But no, he just had to sit right next to you with his stupid pretty eyes purposefully not meeting yours and his annoying plump lips innocently wrapping around the spoon with a piece of gulab jamun on it. He didn't even like sweets.

"Um— what the hell?" "What?" he looked at you with doe eyes rounded in innocence, and your eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Nothing, never mind," you were too tired and too hungry to start anything right now and what would you even ask, 'Why the hell are you sitting next to me?' 'didn't know there was some rule telling me where I can sit' is what he'd say, maybe roll his eyes at you, the usual stuff. So you continued eating your puff pastry in silence. Until you just had to ask, "I thought you didn't like sweets?" You tried to make your voice sound as non-judgemental as possible, you were only curious after all. "And who told you that?" he raised an eyebrow at you. Truthfully, nobody. But you had noticed the way he always avoided the dessert table at parties and functions, the way he only drank his coffee black; not even your best friend's infamous black forest cake that she had made for Krish's birthday a few months back had tempted him to even grab a Yolanda-approved bite. Yolanda would certainly be proud. Obviously, this had nothing to do with you observing him particularly, you just observed a lot of things around you, and he just very unfortunately happened to be around you a lot, being Krish's roommate and 'brotha from anotha motha' or whatever they said. And yet, here he was eating a freaking gulab jamun that was absolutely dripping with the sugary-est syrup. Did he hit his head on the way or something?

"Did you hit—" "I ran into Krish and Aamani, she told me to give this to you," he interrupted you yet again, turning to face you and pulling out a long silver chain-like thing, which upon a closer look you realised with an elated gasp, was the missing half of your lucky pair of payal, the one you'd been looking for everywhere earlier that evening. "I thought these came in pairs," it was a question from the tone with which he said it, but his eyes remained fixated on the jewellery in his hands, thumb running over the delicate silver with a gentleness you didn't know he possessed. You lifted the hem of your skirt a little, head tilting down to point at your left ankle, "they do. I just couldn't find the other one." You shook your head, going back to taking a sip of your drink, "I like the sound they make when you dance, it's fun, so I thought ek hai toh ek hi sahi," catching his questioning gaze you translated, "if there's only one then so be it, I hardly ever get to wear these anyway." You shrugged, "Manu must've found it later and forgotten to give it to me earlier. I think their dating honeymoon phase is gonna be worse than their not-dating honeymoon phase" You rolled your eyes affectionately, expecting him to make a teasing remark too or at least give you that amused smirk. Instead you saw him give an almost imperceptible yet decisive nod, quickly sliding off his chair to kneel in front of you. "What are you-" He gently lifted your right foot onto his folded knee, his nimble fingers making quick work of the clasp on your anklet. Your stomach fluttered as you felt the warmth of his hands on your cold bare ankle, and you were sure if you still had that sip of cold drink in your mouth, your lungs would be burning from snorting it down the wrong pipe, and definitely not because he might've stolen your breath. His fingers skimmed in a barely there touch down your foot. Till now, his gaze had been entirely focused on clasping the jewellery but now that he was done he lifted his head, looking directly into your eyes from his still kneeling position, your faces a few inches apart. This time you could feel your heart burn. Dang, maybe you should cut down on the greasy food and drinks. His gaze briefly shifted to your lips, but then he quickly got up, dusting off his pants, picking up his empty gulab jamun cup, throwing a quick, "I'mgonnagothrowthis" over his shoulder and then he was gone. He quickly disappeared into the crowds while you still sat there, entirely motionless. Your mind blank except for the phantom feeling from his feather touch on your skin.

It was finally time for the last round of dancing. You had run into Manu and Krish while carrying your trash to the bin, the emptiness of your thoughts completely overthrown by the excited shout of your name. You were surprised they had spotted you first, considering all the doped-up lovey smiles and heart-eyes you noticed when they walked to you. The brief hand squeeze and wide-eyed glance from her let you know you were in for an entire night of dramatic recalling of every detail of their evening and you could only shake your head with a fond smirk. As you all walked back towards the dance area, Manu spoke up, "Oh, did you get the payal I'd given Anakin to give to you?" she looked down at your feet though they were covered with your skirt. You supposed she heard them jingle, the sound louder and more noticeable now that you were wearing both of them. But her question brought back that unwanted memory from earlier in the evening instead, and you fought real hard to keep your face from heating up, inhaling a deep breath as inconspicuously as possible, "uh– yeah, he um.. he did." you nodded your head a little too aggressively, "I mean I got it, yeah." Lightly lifting your skirt to show your pair of anklets safely secured, by the most gentle hands you'd ever felt. This time you felt your ears undeniably heat up. 'What the hell? Why were you so fixated on that one thing? It was nothing. It's not like he was sliding a wedding ring on you or something.' Though for some reason, that thought only made your breath stutter as you felt the lava-like blood now rushing to your cheeks. Ugh, get a grip, get. a. grip. And since you were too busy trying to appear totally normal and shoot the butterflies in your stomach dead, you missed the mischievous look that Manu shot Krish as she gave a quick squeeze to his hand in hers. "Should we really have been spying on them like that? And worse, taking photos of them without them knowing?" and though his question was whispered through a sigh he squeezed her hand right back.

"Oh, hush. 10 years from now when they have cute little munchkins running around, I'll have proof to show that I was the one that set their ship sailing." she answered with a smirk. "You've thought about their kids? 10 years from now??" he raised his brows with an incredulous laugh. "Of course. I think about everything." Even the things that you were too practical to consider. Your words, not hers. 'Blind' is what she would call it. You may have the observation skills rivalling that of the most infamous detectives, but she had The Vision. And she knew in her guts that you two were just meant to end up together. "Oh yeah? Then what have you thought about our 10 years? We got 'cute little munchkins' in our cards too?" he tossed an arm around her shoulders, snuggling her close to him to teasingly tickle at her exposed waist. "Mmm, for now our cards hold a very very important mission." She answered and he sighed again, knowing exactly where this was heading. "Let me guess, mission 'get your best friend and my best friend together for the last dance to recreate another Bollywood-style romantic scene?" he raised a brow, coming to a stop as they reached the edge of the canopy of lights and fabrics. "It's only been a few hours and you've already gained the boyfriend-telepathy skills. Impressive." She wiggled her brows at him while turning around in his arms, "I need you to find Anakin and somehow get him to agree to dance." Sensing his hesitation she quickly continued, "I know it won't be easy, but you'll manage. Once we get them both here we need to make sure they're on opposite sides of the circle so that when the final song comes they'll be paired together" she finished. "You really have thought this through, huh? I can't guarantee that he'll agree to dance, I mean it's Anakin we're talking about," noticing her pleading pout he rolled his eyes in fond exasperation, "but I'll try."

With that, he left and she walked to where you were standing, finishing up talking to some old lady, no doubt held hostage to some good ol’ ‘I knew you since you were thisss little’ talk for the past few minutes that the two had spent whispering their plan, but she quickly patted your cheek and left. "So, tonight's the exclusive dandiya night," she wiggled her brows like it was supposed to mean something, it was. You laughed, not understanding her implication. "What about it?" She rolled her eyes good-naturedly, "it's dandiya dumbass. As in, you know, pairs dancing," she continued when she realised your light bulb was still dim. "Oh," you hadn't thought about that, too caught up in the dance competition to care about the other stuff. "Yeah, ‘oh.’ So, who you gonna choose?" "Um...you?" though it came out unsure. "I appreciate the sentiment babe, I really do. I would choose you too–" You raised a brow at that, "but?" "But'" she made a show of dragging out the word then throwing her arms out to her sides, "look at the crowd around you, there's so many kids our age, there's quite a few guys our age too." And finally you caught onto her line of thoughts, narrowing your eyes you shook your head. "Absolutely not. We are not doing this tonight, well I mean you're settled, so I'm not doing this tonight." But the fates seemed to be on her side that night, as she noticed Krish and Anakin talking a few paces away towards the outskirts of the canopy while you both stood at the centre, you hadn't noticed them yet but she could see Anakin shaking his head in a firm no as well. Gosh why were the both of you so difficult? But she also noticed another opportunity walk towards you, and a hopeful scenario played out in her head, courtesy of The Vision. And so she immediately got to work.

"Hey AJ!" she called out to the guy just about to walk by you a few steps away, "didn't you mention that you don't have a partner for tonight's dandiya?" Your eyes widened and you subtly tried to pinch her to stop her from saying the next words but it was too late, "My best friend here also doesn't have a partner, would you mind pairing up with her if you haven't already found someone else?" In speaking to the guy, both of you had turned to fully face him, so she couldn't see Anakin’s reaction anymore. She hoped he had heard what she had just asked this guy. He had. While the two had been devising their plan off to the side, you had been standing at the centre of the canopy taking time to clear your mind and cool yourself. Your gaze was immediately drawn to the gorgeous lights and colourful fabrics that hung above you, mesmerised by how pretty they looked standing out against the dark nighht sky beyond. And though you may never know, Anakin had spotted you right then, standing there in your pretty red ghagra, face tilted to look above you, and it had looked like one of the most gorgeous things he had ever seen, you had looked so pretty with all the lights gleaming in your eyes. And though he was too far to see it, he knew your gaze held that golden twinkle that shone every time you were genuinely happy, though he had hardly been on the receiving end of it. So he had always observed from afar, just as he was doing tonight. His thoughts had been interrupted by the movement of someone approaching him in his periphery. It turned out to be Krish, who clapped him on the back as a greeting and then asked him if he had eaten anything to which Anakin's mind flashed to the almost nauseating sweetness of the tooth-rotting dessert he'd had, immediately followed by the image of the delicate jewellery around your ankle and he quickly shut the door on that thought, instead answering with a single nod.

"Good, good 'cause you're gonna need some energy for a while." Anakin only raised an inquisitive eyebrow in response, while Krish thought of the best, most convincing way to... well, to convince him. "Y/N needs a partner..." "Okay…?" "For the dance, I mean. She needs a partner for the dandiya, she doesn't have one..." he trailed off again, should he just be straightforward with it? "It's you." "What?" Anakin's head snapped to look at him like he was insane. "It's you. You're going to dance with her." "What the fuck? No, I'm not?" it came out as a question because he was baffled as to how his own best friend could say something as dumb as that. Dancing? him? That's fucking funny. "Yes, you are. She needs a partner. You need a partner. The solution is obvious." "Like hell it is. I don't need a partner, 'cause I'm not fucking dancing." He shook his head decisively. "You want to though. You know you want to dance with her." Krish said with a pointed look. "And just what the hell made you think that?" "I'm your best friend, Ani. Do you think I'm blind or—" "Hey AJ!" Aamani's voice had carried over to the two of them, halting their conversation as their attention was now on the two of you, though your backs were turned to them. Aamani's voice was somehow loud enough that they got the gist of it, she had asked this AJ to be your partner, and from the way he walked over to the two of you, your best friend introducing you to each other, him shaking your hand and the dazzling smile you gave him in return, Anakin felt an irrational sorts of a burning pit in his stomach. "Well, looks like the deal's done. She's got her fucking partner." He pushed off the pillar he’d been leaning on, walking away. "Wait! Dude! Where you go—" "Out." and with that he quickly walked towards the back exit of the ground, walking through the gates and out into the cold night. But he had been wrong. AJ hadn't yet agreed to dance with you, or rather Aamani hadn't given him the chance to, stalling him by telling you that he was studying the same thing as you, though he went to a different university. She had been buying time, hoping that any second now, Anakin and his impulsiveness would come barging and say that you've already got a partner. But time was running short as the conversation between the two of you came back to the topic of tonight's dance. "So, you don't have a partner for the dandiya either?" she heard him ask. Where the hell was Anakin? But her movie-like vision for his entrance onto the scene immediately shattered when she turned to see what was holding him, only to see Anakin nowhere in sight and her boyfriend standing alone with a small frown on his face. Catching his eyes she sent him a questioning look, to which he only shook his head dejectedly. And she knew her plan had failed. For her, at least. Because when she turned back around, she saw you agreeing with AJ to meet up under the canopy before the start of the dance before he excused himself, mentioning something about helping move the chairs or whatever. You too said something about meeting up with one of your older hometown friends you'd run into right before the dance competition. You'd promised to come find her when you were free to catch up on things. And so you left as well.

But at that point, Manu could only think about how wrong this was. She knew it was her who had asked AJ to dance with her best friend, so she couldn't blame him. But Anakin – Anakin she could blame. And she could also just about drag his ass back here to ask him what the hell was he doing? With the way the whole payal scene had gone, and knowing Anakin's possessive nature, she was almost 100% sure he'd metaphorically sweep you off your feet (before literally sweeping you off your feet during the dance). So why the hell was her best friend going to be dancing with a guy she was (frustratingly) getting along with instead?

Krish had walked his way back to stand behind her, but not even his warmth and the comforting palm he ran up and down her bare arm could stop the disappointed frown pulling on her lips. She turned to her boyfriend with a concerned expression, "Did I just accidentally push my best friend towards the wrong guy, with the right guy storming off to who knows where?"

Part 2: Jhumka

a/n: so.... there's 4 more nights left... do you think they'll ever get their dance? 👀

A/n: Thank you all so much if you spent your time on this trash wreckage fuelled by finals stress and unfulfilled dreams </3

Would love to hear feedback on this one! Don't hesitate to send me any ques or just anything that comes to mind relating to our dearest love-haters and the overzealous matchmakers ;)

[hydrngea]

gyming

a/n : this was a very self indulgent fic that’s very unedited but i hope you enjoy!! this is gonna be a series of short somewhat connected blurbs of gymbro!rafe :))

summary : your first time at a new gym doesn’t start off too great until you meet your new gymbro. | rafe cameron x f!reader, rafe is a gym rat in this, reader is extremely thirsty and downbad lol, fluff.

navigation | masterlist

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

it took you a good 2 months after moving to the obx to try out the local gym.

you know, you know. there’s nothing really to be afraid of; you know how all the machines work and you don’t have to worry much about your form. it’s just now that you’ve moved away for college, you don’t have your best friend working out side by side with you. and it’s got you nervous.

you finally mustered up the courage after a long facetime call with her. you were gonna do it. expand your horizons.

you felt instantly relieved when you walked into the gym and it was empty. you always thought that nine o’clock at night was the perfect time to go, since all the machines and benches were empty a couple hours before the gym closes.

you look around. there’s about 4 people in the gym other than yourself.

there’s some guy in the corner by the deadlift platform that seems to think he’s batman;with a weird all black getup, wearing…combat boots?

another two are a really cringe high school couple. bleh.

and then the last one by the bench presses.

woah. he’s hot. you think, panning him from far away and taking him in. he’s literally lifting triple the amount of weight you can. you didn’t even know the arm had so many muscle groups.

alright, maybe this new gym isn’t so bad.

you find your way to an open bench and put your stuff down. you stare at the plates for a good minute or two and wonder what would be the best the start with. you decide on a safer weight to warm up. it has been more than a few weeks since you’ve benched.

you lay onto the bench and place you hands into position, puffing out your chest while sucking in a tight breath.

you push up on the bar and immediately regret your overconfidence. the weight moves too heavy, yet you still force yourself to continue with reps.

2…3…4..

you’re so close to hitting 6 reps, but suddenly at the end of the forth one your arms give out and the bar begins to fall on you chest.

you do your best to prepare for the blow, but it never comes. you blink a couple times and realize a pair of strong hands have pulled up the bar from you and a handsome face mirrors yours.

oh god. it’s him. the cute guy.

“easy there, sweetheart.” his gruff voice cuts through your thoughts you immediately fall in love.

he places the bar onto the hinges with ease and you quickly sit up on the bench, face burning. your hands are as red as a tomato from the right grip you had on the bar, and your wrist aches from the failed lift.

you pull your headphones off of your head and turn your neck to look at him, “i’m so sorr-“

you begin to apologize but he cuts you off with a chuckle.

“nah, what are you apologizing for? i’m sorry for not asking if you wanted a spot earlier.”

earlier? did he notice me earlier?

“this used to be my warm up.” you say with your head low, a small scoff coming out during the beginning of your sentence.

the stranger shrugs, “well for the first few sets it looked like you were handling it just fine.”

you raise a brow, not able to control the sudden urge for flirtation that comes upon you. “were you watching me?”

he crosses his arms over the bar and leans against it, shaking his head which caused his hair to shuffle a bit and his muscles to flex in the most mesmerizing way ever.

you’re sure you gawking at him and that you should probably avert your eyes from his body but you kinda can’t help it.

“of course i was. couldn’t stop but notice the pretty girl that walked in.”

you roll you eyes at the comment, shaking your head. “i doubt that i’m pretty.”

he scoffs. “you’re the prettiest girl in here.”

“is that because i’m the only girl in here?” you question, undoing your loose ponytail to redo it.

“you know what i meant, pretty girl.”

“mm. sure…pretty boy.” you test out the nickname and he smiles at you for the first time. you swear your feel butterflies all over your body at the simple action.

he takes a step out towards the front of the bench to face you. “how ‘bout we spot each other so we don’t get hurt, pretty girl?” he suggest, a lop sided smile curving onto his gorgeous face.

god. why are you so down bad for a guy you just met?

“why not?” you acquiesce, sending him your own mirroring grin in return.

you think it’s safe to say this won’t be the last time you’d visiting this gym.

—————

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reblog + comment and i’ll do the same for you :))) my dms are always open if you’d like to make a friend !!

[ahoycaptainautumn]

Fated Mates Part 10 Final

Synopsis: you, a vengeful vampire slayer, cross paths with the devious and handsome Astarion. Instead of a stake through the heart, Astarion finds something he thought impossible for vampire spawn. A mate.

The finale. The meeting that has been destined in the stars. Shall you both agree to the mating bond, or go separate ways?

Words seep into your brain and wash it in all this new information. You read and reread the passage on Vampiric Mates as if it could give you anything new. It feels like your brain is processing and then restarting at the last moment. This couldn’t be right, right? If it is, if you two are mates, then Astarion knew. He knew and he didn’t tell you. He didn’t tell you when you met, didn't tell you when you had kissed him. Hells he didn’t even tell you when you fucked in that abandoned temple. You had gone through every step of the mating process without a single inkling of understanding. You wanted to be angry. You wanted to feed this into your earlier rage at Astarion’s dismissal of you. But it honestly just made it make sense. Mates didn’t get to choose whom their mate was destined to be. He didn’t have a choice. He never once had a choice in 200 years and once again the universe did not give him a chance. The moment he tastes freedom, feels the sun on his skin again, he lays eyes on his mate. Not just any average person, a vampire hunter with a thirst for blood. Who damn near kills him in his tent. Were you still upset at being duped? Upset he ran instead of talked to you? Of course, you still wanted to punch him in his stupid perfect elf face. But more so you wanted to talk to him. To know what he felt, if this meant anything to him. If you meant anything to him. At the thought of you not, it made your stomach lurch. You recognize the feeling for what it is. That tightening rope feeling. A bond tie. A tethering to him that sung each time you thought of him or were near him. You had thought yourself just a silly schoolgirl for feeling such a strong emotion with his presence. Now it finally made sense. This whole adventure so far made so much more sense. You stood quickly and took a deep inhale. You needed to make this right. You needed to find him. You needed to find your mate.

-

Astarion tears through his chest once more as he paws his belongings again and again. Everything was here but that damned book. Worse yet, your scent lingered around the chest as if mocking him. He wants to believe it will magically appear under some shirt and silly old Astarion simply missed it. But the back of his mind knew better. He saw the hurt and rage in your eyes last time you saw one another. In that dim tavern stockroom. You had ran from him so fast he had barely a moment to think. By the time he got to camp he could smell you had been there, the one trait he is thankful for with this bond. Your scent trailed from his tent to yours. He hadn’t even thought of why you had been near his tent. Without a second thought he had paced near yours. It wasn’t until he gave up and went to his own tent that he thought more about it. Especially with your scent wrapped inside. That’s how he came to be here, rifling through his own things. Desperately hoping you didn’t see the one thing that carried his secret. Well, both of yours secret. His hand rakes back his perfectly sculpted hair as he tries to catch his breath. He had two options. Find and confront you, which seemed horrible. Or pack a bag and run for the high hills and never look back. As much as that option entices him he realizes he couldn’t even if he wanted to. One being that the tadpole would still be a problem and not one he believes he could fix on his own. Secondly it would mean leaving his mate. A dark gnarled pain twists through his spine at the thought. Even just imagining leaving you, never seeing you again woke some ancient horrible feeling that burrowed deep. Well, that left option one. Astarion stood, he tried and failed to calm his nerves. He was just about to open his tent flap when your hand poked through the opening. You lean into the tent and make eye contact with Astarion. The connection bursts through a feeling of utter euphoria. Both of your bodies flamed with the feeling of the entwined bond. Your skin tingles as if it begs to touch his. He feels the same as his teeth aching to plunge into your delectable neck and claim you as his own. To bite every surface you have exposed. As much as he wants to throw himself at you. To forget words and let his body do the talking, he resists. He was tired of that being his form of communication. Of sex and touch being the way people got to him. Of how they perceived him. He wanted.. more. He had not a single clue what “more” included. But he wanted to try. No matter how much it made his fight or flight trigger deep in his belly. His feet ready to take option two and start running. But instead he clears his throat. You reach behind you and hand the mating book to Astarion.

“I believe this belongs to you.” You start, timidly. Your eyes say it all. Your (e/c) eyes swimming with apprehension. You’re so visibly nervous it reminds Astarion of a tender little lamb. Frightful but curious. Anticipating with anxiety. He, the lion, wanting to gobble the lamb whole.

“I guess that means we need to talk.” He replies, not sure how to start this conversation. You just nod your head, Astarion opens his mouth ready to let whatever words spew from his mouth but you hold a finger up.

“Not here… maybe somewhere private?” You ask. He only nods, ready to follow you anywhere you take him. You hold out a hand to him and await his. He looks down at your open palm. How warm and inviting it is. The thought of even just holding your hand sparking hope in his chest. He knew better than to think this was anything but you letting him down. Of denying wanting to intermingle with someone with as much baggage as him. Someone as damaged as him. He wouldn’t blame you one bit. Really he would think it for the best. For you to break this bond and not go near him; or Cazador for that matter. But then you give him a small smile and usher with your hand once again. He tentatively puts his hand in yours. But maybe he could have just a little hope.

You lead him past your fellow companions' tents holding his hand. A few eyes watch you as you make your way towards the forest. Karlach meets your eyes and gives two big thumbs up which nearly makes you snort if it wasn’t for the anxiety bubbling in your chest. You lead Astarion to a clearing near the flowing river a bit aways from camp. You had grabbed a large plush blanket with throw pillows and laid them out before you had gotten Astarion. For once you wanted something to go right. For a special moment to be curated and simple. Not during a battle or on accident. Not in an abandoned temple or a psychics tent. But an evening of just you and him. Of twinkling stars and the silence of a night-lit blooming forest. However this is to go, whatever his decision may be, it would be between the two of you in a neutral setting. Somewhere you could lay your hearts open to one another. You sit down on the blanket and pat the spot next to him. Astarion sits next to you, craning his neck up to watch the stars alongside you. You both sit in silence for just a few minutes. Enjoying watching the stars in each others company. You wish this is all it could be. But you knew it had to be discussed.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” You ask, shifting your gaze from the sky to Astarion. He meets your gaze and you see the flash of anxiety come and go from his eyes. You keep your face neutral as best you can.

“In the spirit of honesty, I don’t really know. I didn’t know what to think or what to do.” He replies with a sigh. He throws his arms behind him and leans back into them. He stares down at the ground as if far away in thought.

“As far as I knew mates were only for true vampires. A rarity for them, not many of them able trust one another to ever find their mate. So naturally being a spawn I thought I couldn’t have one. It simply wasn’t something I ever gave much thought to.”

“And now that you have one?” You prod further. You ache desperately to put a reassuring hand to him. To tell and show how much you support him at this moment. But you didn’t want to persuade him one way or another. Especially not guilt him by any means. He takes a long drag of a breath and continues on.

“I should be asking you this.” You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion. He steals a look over to see your confused face.

“Is this, all of this, what you want?” He ushers between the both of you. You can’t help the little grin that reaches your face.

“Am I not obvious enough?” You tease. He grunts in response.

“I don’t just mean the ungodly good sex darling. I understand I come with my…. Complications. Complications that have been quite a thorn in your side.” He dances around the word vampire. Almost fearful to bring up something he knew was his largest flaw. What good does a vampire spawn do as a partner? He was your antithesis. The opposite of your life’s mission. Plus he would go on to live unless someone got fidgety with a stake. You, however, only had so much time. He highly doubted you would join in his immortality. You look lost in thought, tongue stuck out in thought.

“You’re not wrong. I hated all vampires. I didn’t discriminate between them, all of them monsters to me. My father had foolishly thought to gamble with one, to generate more wealth than we would ever need with a debt owed to Cazador. I never found out what he owed him, all I know is that it was grand enough for Cazador to personally come and slaughter my whole family. Besides me. He had said I wasn’t worth his efforts. So when I met you I naturally hated you.” Before Astarion could make a snarky comment you continued.

“But then I got to know you. To see you for more than what you are. That just because you are a vampire doesn’t mean you’re my enemy. If anything you have been quite the opposite.” You finish. You can tell a bit of tension eases from Astarions shoulders.

“So where do we go from here? 200 years and I’ve never known what more was. That there was a “more”. Forgive me if I am a bit out of touch.” Astarion replies. You nudge your shoulder with his.

“That’s fine old man, we can take it slow.” You tease. He frowns at your jest before a soft smile breaks across his pale face. The moonlight illuminates him giving him an ethereal glow.

“We. Us. I like the sound of that.” He replies.

“And no more running away when we need to talk! I might still stake you, you know.” You playfully slap his arm. He fakes being wounded giving you a pout.

“I make no promises, little killer.” He grins. It would be hard for him to break the habit. Preferring running and hiding. But he could try, for you. “Now may I suggest we consummate this mating?” He leans over towards you, hands resting on either side of your hips. His face just a breathe away from you. A slight chuckle falls from your lips.

“I believe we already have.” You tease. He gives you an award winning smile as he leans in closer. His lips brushing ever so slightly against yours.

“Couldn’t hurt to once more, or maybe a few more times.” His eyes dance from yours down to your lips and back up to you. You lick your dry lips as you watch him drink you in.

“Only a few?” You whisper your head barely beginning to turn into his. Half lidded eyes drawn to him.

“Maybe more than that.” His voice is barely there, red eyes blown wide with lust.

“I sincerely hope even more than that.” He grins as you say that.

“Now that, my dear, is something I can promise.” He says as he seals his lips over your own. You greet his lips in earnest. The kiss is sweet. Perfect. Enveloping the longing, the caring that flowed between your bond. Astarion walks his hands forward, pushing your body back onto the blanket. You follow his steps as you tangle your fingers in his hair. He hovers over you, losing himself in the kiss. Astarion had had many lovers but kisses with you were like no other. As if fireworks set off inside of him. Sparks of pure adoration going off within him. He nudged his way between your legs and you gladly let him. His leg swings upwards, pushing your other leg farther away. His groin comes in contact with your clothed center. Chest to chest, you groan into the kiss. One of his hands comes to glide down to your waist and grip your hip. The other holding himself up by the forearm. You trace down his neck before slipping your hands to his front. You trace his body slowly till you meet the hem of his shirt. You glide your hands under and place your hands flat against his abdomen. Though he feels always a bit cool you feel nothing but flames. You trace random patterns along his front. He deepens the kiss, exploring your mouth. His grip on his hip massaging the tender flesh there. Your hands go higher, nudging him to remove his shirt. He grins into your kiss as he leans back. He grabs his shirt and all but rips it off his body.

You stare awe-struck at him. The way his body is so beautifully sculpted as if he was a statue in a museum. Chiseled to perfection by the universe's best artist. His curly white hair disheveled, flowing with the slight breeze. His eyes hungry and trained on you, gauging your constant reaction. His hands find the ends of your shirt and he teasingly strokes it upwards in slow motions. You lean up and watch him take your shirt completely off. His hand reaches to your jaw as he leans in for another kiss. All the while you begin to loosen his trousers.

“So needy.” He teases into your lips between kisses. You smile and break the kiss. You lean up to and press your lips near his pointed ear.

“I can’t help that I want my mate.” You whisper to him. He shudders at your words. Mate. Gods the title sounded so good coming from you. He nibbles down your neck in earnest. Leaving love bites and hickeys in his trail. He ruts his hips into yours. His hands go all over. Touching every inch of exposed skin he can access. Kneading and caressing every part of you. Your hands wander his body as if touching it for the first time. Mapping out as if you could forget it. His kisses travel across your collarbone and to your sternum. One of his hands comes up to softly play with your breast. His hand kneading the soft skin. Occasionally his fingers come up to twist your nipple in a delcious rhythm. You grind against him in desperation for more touch. For more of him. Your fingers undo his pants and begin to tug as much as you can in your position. Astarions lips come up to your perked nipple and begin to suck. His eyes trained on yours to gauge your reaction. You throw your head back in ecstasy as a rough moan escapes your mouth. You make no show of covering any sounds, letting Astarion hear how good he makes you feel. His hand plays with your opposite breast as he sucks and bites at your sensitive bud. You writhe, desperation growing in you. The fire he builds inside you is quickly building to an inferno.

“Please Astarion.” You whine. He comes off of you with a wet pop before he stands. He makes quick work of his pants and immediately kneels and sweeps yours off just as fast. You lay bare to one another. Basking in the moonlit glow of each others naked bodies. Astarions eyes drink you in. A soft look on his face, adoration evident.

“You’re beautiful.” He tells you. You give a wide grin before you open your arms and usher him closer. He immediately follows and finds himself between your legs again. Though he brings himself much lower than before. His face resting just above your heat. You watch his actions and you can feel your breath catch. His eyes stare hard into yours as he brings his tongue out and licks. The flat of his tongue going from the bottom to the top of your slit. Your nails dig into the blanket as you arch your back. Astarion devours you like a man starved. Spreading your folds with his fingers to delve deeper. His tongue caresses your insides sending shivers up your spine. You cry out his name like a prayer.

“Ah- A- astarion!” You cry over and over again. It only spurs him on, chasing your ecstasy to get you to your high. His fingers join in his ministrations as he plunges two fingers into your wet opening. He curls ever so slightly as he motions a come hither inside of you. All the while his tongue laps and sucks at your clit. The stimulation is all too much, your whole body buzzing.

“Astarion- ahh- I’m gonna-“ you can barely moan out, your whole body too consumed in rapture.

“Cum my love, show me how good I make you feel.” He purrs against your skin. You reach your climax, cumming on his fingers. He works you through it, slowing his fingers' pace. He looks up at you to see your lust filled face. He leans upwards to catch you in a searing kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips. It sends a thrill through you.

“Astarion please- I need you.” You cry, arms grabbing at him senselessly. It’s as if you forgot all sense, Astarion the only thing that mattered. The only thing that exists.

“Oh with pleasure, my mate.” He gives you a devilish grin. You clench at his words. Mate. God you could listen to him call you that a thousand times and not get sick of it. He lines himself up with your entrance, using your slick to lube himself properly. He enters you slowly as you both moan wantonly in union. You wrap your hands around his neck to hold onto something. His arms hold himself up by the back of his forearms on either side of your head. Your bodies touch as he rocks into you. It’s intimate. Something very foreign for Astarion. Everything he had done was quickies. Hard and fast to reach a climax to be finished with. But you. Oh you he wanted to take his time with. To ruin you, completely and wholeheartedly. To mark you as his in every crevice and nook of your body. That his signature would be branded so deeply into your skin no other man would even think to come near you. You are his entirely. His hips speed up in rhythm. Skin slapping onto skin echoing with your shared moans.

“Say it again.” Astarion grunts out. His eyes find yours, begging. You swallow dryly. The bond is so strong in this position, in this eye contact. As if your body thrums with it. You would give him the world and stars if he asked for it at this moment. But you already knew what he wanted.

“Astarion, my mate.” You reply. He groans, biting his lower lip. His hips speed up, becoming sloppy. Your body is wrecked in pleasure.

“Again.” He growls.

“My mate. Mine.” You say once again. At that Astarions fangs plunge into your soft neck. Stars line your vision. You feel out of body. Lost in a sea of utter pleasure. You reach your finish together, Astarion spilling his seed inside of you. The bond ties tightly between you both. Unbreakable. You hug his body close as you come down from your high. He releases from your neck and moves to lay next to you. Your hands intertwine as you look up at the stars together. Both attempting to catch your breath.

“Well, what now darling?” He asks you between puffs of air. He looks over at you. Those crimson eyes full of adoration.

“Well. I guess we save the world.” You reply with a chuckle. He squeezes your hand.

“I think we are going to have a lot of fun together.”

Part 9 here

———-

I really hope you guys enjoyed the series! I will be focusing on one shots and requests from here on out! Also if you got the Twilight reference give me a holla!

[slippingkim]

jungwon was colleges it boy! the person that everyone wants for themselves or just for the night but he never does. he was the person everyone talker about or wanted to be fucked dumb by.

that was until he met you in college, you were quiet, basically just moving around in the dark trying not to get noticed. you were only known for your really high grades and as jungwon is kinda failing ( No he is not he lied, he is passing with a very high distinction ) science, he asked for a bit of help.

and that "help" resulted to you on top of his lap as he held your waist and kissed you. thinking he knew everything about sex, you decided to let him take the lead but that all stopped when you noticed him staring at you with a hint of blush on his cheek and a boner. "i've never done this before." he whispered as he averted eye contact because of embarrassment. and that's when you realized he was a fake, someone who loved to talk shit but has never even gotten head before. so you being you, you decided to tutor him in something more interesting, let's say alot of corruption takes place!

- 🐛

~ tempt ~

nsfw | mdni ✦

~ cw: smut, blowjob, corruption, virgin!won

~ pairings: (failing) subwon x (tutor) domreader

Constant whispers rung through your ears about this jungwon character from your college, claiming he was

‘so handsome’ and ‘so good in bed’ of course you could care less. Your first priority was your grades and top scores, a perfectionist if you may.

But you might’ve thought he was a little cute those cat eyes if his were kinda pretty you thought.

For the most part keeping to yourself and making sure that nobody gets in your way of a successful life, party’s, drinking, sex and drugs were the least of your concerns this day in time. You couldn’t be in doubt that you’ve done some of those things before and were pretty experienced but you recently decided it’s best to focus on the most important aspects of yourself.

Grades.

Jungwon on the other hand, had everyone else’s attention his good looks and charming personality struck your collage like a lightning bolt. Girls and the occasional boys mobbing around him like he was a celebrity.

Parties, drinking, drugs, and “sex” were his supposed hobby, what everyone thought he was into but in reality he’s only attended parties never drank a day in his life because he’s to scared, is always offered the opportunity to do drugs be declines with a stupid excuse every time

and as for sex he’s never even seen the female genitalia in person alone from touching himself to the regular porn website occasionally. Other than that he has absolutely not clue about how ‘sex’ works.

To put it in simple terms he’s a virgin.

Despite what he tells every other person.

When jungwon spotted you in the hall, a new cute target to brag about his alleged exciting sex life to he began with walking right up next to you with a smirk

“Hey~” he says making a smoldering expression 

“What’s your name?” He adds, of course knowing your name and exactly who you are, everybody knows you as

‘the smartest student at this university, seong y/n’

You look up at him with a stern expression “seong y/n” You say looking at him expectantly

After you speak in that short span of about 50 seconds he gets an idea, you definitely wouldn’t deny at tutoring session with him especially since he’s the jungwon. Then he could use what all he’s learned from pornhub on an innocent looking girl like you. ..perfect he thinks so himself.

“I’m kinda failing my science class..” he manages to spit out a rapid speed with a fake frown

“..will you help me y/n?” He asks with a pouty expression, knowing deep down he has the second highest rank in the class below you of course.

“sure, meet me at my dorm at 6 sharp, I’ll text you the address” you say with an unamused blank voice, walking away not sparing him another glance

A confused eyebrow appears on jungwons face as this is the first time he’s talked to a girl without her freaking out but brushes it off after a long time of zoning out in the same spot you left him.

5:45pm rolls around as jungwon receives your message containing your dorm address and smirks to himself, leaving his dorm to start walking to yours.

After a few minutes you here a rather loud knock at your door and get up to open it. Upon seeing jungwon with a big grin on his face letting himself in and sitting on your office chair sprawling about abruptly.

You notice he didn’t have any notes or papers to correct his mistakes

“..you didn’t bring any notes?” You say annoyed crossing your arms

“Aw~ I forgot” he says looking up at you with the same grin as before

“Whatever.” You say trying not to kick him out right then and there

You begin walking over to your desk standing in front of jungwon in his chair, reaching for your own notes, he couldn’t help but stare down at your plump ass in your skimpy thin pajama shorts with wide eyes. In a bit of a horny panic he grasps your waist and pulls you down on his lap making a small whimper when you ass lands on his bulge.

You turn around at him with an irritated expression upon feeling his boner beneath you “what do you think your doing?” You say at full volume

“..nothing~” he says pulling your back against his vast chest, wrapping his arms around your waist engulfing your body making you hot and a damp spot grow in your underwear. He starts to lay warm and wet kisses on your neck causing you to squirm against his bugle making him pour out a soft moan. Turning around on his lap with a smirk you wait for him to continue the session by pulling your shirt off or something awaiting his raved about skills but he just sits there while you stare at him with a confused look.

Jungwon genuinely doesn’t know what to do next he only stares back at you with a slight blush and worried expression.

“I actually have never done this before…” he says looking away quickly as you sit on his lap thoroughly confused. His original plan flushing down the drain that is his brain, he totally forgot about whatever he was going to do, cursing pornhub for the lack of knowledge it gave him about why really happens during sex or how to start it for the most part.

You laugh in his face upon seeing his blushed expression looking away in embarrassment.

“..stop laughing” he says now looking down with a pout

“..you ..are a virgin” you laugh at him finding it funny that everybody and their mothers were talking about how good jungwon was in bed.

After a bit longer of laughter you finally look back at him sitting there looking needy with his blushing face and large bulge, you can’t leave him hanging so you decide to ditch the science tutoring and carry on with a blowjob 101 class.

“take your pants off.” You command with crossed arms

He obeys quickly, grateful that your giving him another chance. Once his pants are off you walk over to him and slowly lower to your knees and gently begin to pull down his boxers as his blush grows more. Your eyes widen at his large cock that’ll barely fit in your mouth, he’s never seen this tactic before only watching the regular doggy-style videos so this is quite new to him, he thinks with a tiny confused stare.

He feels you pick up his length and slide his tip into your mouth slowly. He lets out a yelp from the new feeling as you start to bob your head around him, his legs starting to buck uncontrollably while he feels his tip brush the back of your throat.

“Ahh.. ah~” he moans at every pass through his head being thrown back out of pleasure feeling your warm saliva and tongue swirling around his cock.

His body can barely stay still its still so sensitive to the new feeling his hips are basically numb from being tossed around so much.

Your name being screamed at a high pitch as you continue to deep throat his cock making him slur every word he tries to use.

“y/nn..~ y-y/nahh~” he whimpers with tears starting to break his waterline

“mmh.. mgonna c-cum~” he whines gripping the office chair with great force.

Until you come up from his cock to watch it burst with white watching him sputter out twitching like crazy from the pop he felt in his cock. His cum releasing all over his shirt and bare hips as he pants heavily. His throbbing length rising and falling with every breath.

“..I think ..I love you” he says half-joking still out of breath “that was awesome..”

You only smirk chuckling and throw him a wipe in order for him to clean himself. He finishes cleaning him self up and returning back to normal cockywon.

“you have so much more to learn~” you say patting his head

“so.. same time tomorrow?” He says hoping that you won’t decline with folded hands and a pleading stare.

“I’ll think about it” you say smirking while pushing him out the door and shutting it in his face

“Please please please..” he whines from outside the door, you ignore him and go back to studying for an exam wondering what you should teach your virgin student next.

[guilty-pleasures21]

Prom with Neighbour!Miguel

Just had this in my head.

Warnings: some suggestive thoughts.

_______________________________________________

     Imagine getting ready to go to prom with your childhood sweetheart Miguel who lives next door to you.  

     Your rooms have always faced each other, the floor-to-ceiling windows allowing you to flash each other scribbled notes when you’d still been too young to have smartphones. Miguel had even managed to convince his parents to get him a projector two years back so the two of you could watch movies together when you were meant to be sleeping on a school night. 

     You walk out of the shower in your t-shirt and shorts, your body freshly scrubbed and your makeup perfectly done. You stop in front of your bed, admiring the dress carefully laid out on top of it. It was made out of sheer lavender lace that sat over a white silk underskirt. Thin straps held the corset top up whilst two off-the-shoulder sleeves curled loosely around your arms. You’d even found the perfect ballet flats in the same colour that came with thick satin ribbons that wrapped around your calves. You’d felt like a Barbie princess when you’d tried the whole outfit on at the store! You’d sent Miguel a picture of the skirt once you’d bought the dress, letting him know the colour he needed to match, but also keeping enough of your outfit a secret for him to be pleasantly surprised when he picked you up before the dance. 

     You glance up at the thought of your boyfriend just in time to see him tug his shirt off. You blink at the sight of his broad back, dumbfounded by the defined lines of his muscles etched into his tanned skin. You knew he was fit - he’d been the captain of your school’s basketball team for the last three years - and of course you’d seen him with his shirt off before, but the sight of his bare torso never failed to stun you into silence. You bite your lip as he runs his fingers through his hair and your brain momentarily goes numb at the way his muscles flex at the movement. You close your eyes and shake your head, pulling yourself back into your body, but when you open your eyes again, he’s turned around. 

     Your lips part as your eyes trace the outlines of his abs and you swallow hard when your gaze lands on the bulge in his sweatpants. You slowly make your way up his chest, licking your lips at the broad planes, then your eyes travel up the length of his neck to his ear. You bite your lip, chewing on it like you were nibbling his soft little earlobe, then you slide your gaze along his chiselled jaw to his lips. They curl into a smirk and you look up to find him watching you with the same intensity that you’d been studying him with. Your eyes widen with horror as he fixes you with a devious grin and you spin around, mentally berating yourself for your actions. 

     Ay, mierda, you were so hot, parting your lips when they’d landed on his core like you wanted to wrap your mouth around him and swallow. The blood rushed to his centre at the image of him sliding himself down your pretty little throat and he closed his eyes as a wave of dizziness hit him. He smirked mischievously as he waited for you to look up at him and a soft snicker escaped his throat when your cheeks turned red with embarrassment. Mierda, you were cute. He placed his hands on hips as he continued to watch you, waiting with excitement to see what you’d do next. 

     Shit, shit, shit! Ugh! How embarrassing! You were the one who’d said that you weren’t ready to go all the way yet, but there you were checking him out like he was your favourite dessert! You let out a frustrated whine, then twist your head back to sneak another peek at him. Miguel raises his eyebrows, his lips still curled into that amused smile, and you cover your face with your hands. Ahh! He was so handsome! And all yours too! Ahh! 

     You jumped up and down as you squealed with excitement. Well, he guessed that you were squealing - he couldn’t hear you from all the way over in his room, but he knew how you got whenever you got excited. You stopped suddenly and took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down, then you looked back at him again, your expression mischievous this time. You turned back to your cupboard so your back was facing him, then you shimmied your shorts off. Miguel's eyes immediately fell to your legs, long and bare beneath your shirt, then they climbed back up to your ass. 

     You twist your head to sneak another peek at your boyfriend and you grin when you see that you have his attention. You curl your fingers around the hem of your shirt and tug it off before tossing it aside. You restrain yourself from looking back at Miguel and instead, gather your hair into a loose ponytail, treating him to a view of your back. You turn to the side and place your free hand on your hip, posing in front of the mirror in your cupboard, then you let your hair go again and finally turn to your boyfriend. Miguel’s gaze instantly lands on your chest, his eyes following the curves of your bra, and your nipples tingle at the hungry look in his eyes. You bend over, pushing your arms against your sides to plump up your cleavage, and Miguel bites his lower lip as he runs his fingers through his hair, clearly getting frustrated by your teasing. 

     Santo cielo, you looked so deliciously soft. His palms itched with the need to be squished up against your lush breasts and his teeth ached with the desire to nibble on your smooth skin. F*ck. He couldn’t wait until summer started - when you’d agreed to have sex with him for the first time. Thank god the two of you had gotten into the same university: then he wouldn’t need to wait until the weekends or holidays to be able to spend time with you. 

     You straighten again, flicking your hair back before running your fingers through it, and Miguel stares at you blankly as you shoot him a cheeky wink. You turn around and reach for your phone to send him a text. 

     ‘Should I change my underwear, cariño?’

     His eyes widened when he saw your message, catching onto your underlying meaning immediately. He looked up at you again and swallowed hard before nodding his head. 

     Your entire body buzzes with excitement at the hazy look in his eyes. He always made you feel so attractive, your boyfriend, lighting up whenever he saw you, proudly displaying you by his side whenever you were hanging out with your friends, admiring whatever outfit you dressed up in whenever you went out together. 

     Miguel watched intently as you spun back around and gathered your hair over your shoulder before reaching for the clasp of your bra. His heart thudded rapidly in his chest as you took it off and tossed it aside, revealing the entire expanse of your back to him. His eyes went round with desire and his pants tightened in anticipation of seeing your bare ass exposed before him. You paused to rummage around in your drawers, then you held out a mismatched set of underwear, still facing the other way. Miguel quickly grabbed his phone. 

     ‘Aren’t they supposed to match, bonita?’

     You replace the underwear back in your closet and laugh when you see his innocuous message. 

     ‘They don’t have to match, hermoso.’

     ‘Most places sell them separately.’

     ‘I think you’re thinking of lingerie.’ 

     His heart fluttered at the nickname - as it always did no matter how many times you used it on him - and he smiled as he looked up at you again. Then his heart leaped into his throat. 

     You let the lingerie you’d bought dangle from your fingers, teasing your boyfriend with the naughty sheer blue lace. You’d gotten it when you’d gone dress shopping with your best friend a few weeks ago. You’d been a little intimidated by the more raunchy sets of underwear, but you’d liked how desirable the cute little bra and panties had made you feel when you’d tried it on. 

     Ay, mierda. You were so mean, teasing him so badly like this. Miguel scrambled for his phone and swiftly tapped out his response. 

     ‘YES YES YES YES YES!!!’

     You laugh and keep the underwear back in your drawer. 

     ‘Hmm, I think I’ll save it for a more special occasion, actually … 😉😘’

     Miguel closed his eyes as another wave of dizziness hit him. P*tas, you were driving him crazy! He sighed as you clipped your bra back on, then furrowed his brows when you walked over to the window. You swept your gaze over him one more time, then pulled your curtains shut. Miguel let his head fall back as he groaned in frustration, then he trudged over to his closet to continue getting ready. 

     “Ah! You look so handsome!” You grinned when you heard your mother’s excited squeal come from downstairs: Miguel had arrived to pick you up. You smoothed out your dress and checked your makeup one last time, then you carefully made your way down to the entryway. 

     “Y/N!” your mum exclaims, delighting in your beautiful outfit. “You guys are matching!” 

     You lift your gaze to Miguel and your heart thumps happily when you see the lavender shirt he’s wearing under his jacket. 

     Ay, mierda, you were so, so beautiful! He stared silently at you as you walked down the stairs, admiring how pretty you looked in your fairytale dress. You stopped in front of him and smiled sweetly as you waited for him to say something. He grinned and held his hands out to you, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of yours when you placed them in his. 

     “You look so beautiful, princesa. Mi princesa hermosa.” His heart melted as you giggled softly at his praise, then your parents got the two of you to strike a few poses as they snapped pictures. 

     “Okay, guys,” you finally stop them when your phone starts buzzing with impatient texts from your friends. “We have to go or we’ll be late!” 

     You drag Miguel out of your house, laughing at your parents’ enthusiasm, and the two of you walk over to his driveway to get into his car. 

     “Oh my God!” you pant, sinking back into your designated seat. “That was like a workout on its own!” 

     You lean back against your boyfriend’s hard chest and he wraps his arms around you, holding you close against him. Your friends gradually collapse into their own seats around your table and you yell at each other as you struggle to be heard over the music. Eventually, the night comes to an end and where some of the more unsavoury characters in your year disperse to their own afterparty, you and your friends decide to head home. Miguel offers to drop off some of your friends who live in the same neighbourhood as you and soon, the two of you pull into his driveway. 

     “Do you want to go to sleep, princesa?” he asks after switching the engine off. You yawn, suddenly realising how exhausted you are. 

     “Yeah,” you admit tiredly. “I just want to put on my pyjamas and snuggle up in bed. Can we hang out tomorrow?” 

     Miguel leans over the console and presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Por supuesto, princesa. Message me when you wake up?” 

     You nod eagerly in agreement and Miguel walks you to your door like the gentleman he is. 

     “Night, Miguel, I love you,” you tell him, stretching onto your toes and wrapping your arms around his neck. 

     He bent over slightly and slid his arms around your waist, hugging you tightly against him. “Night, princesa, I love you too.”