#i LOVE the expressions here... so subtle but effective

[rafecameronssl4t]

gurl i love your writing style sm 😭💗 can you do one about rafe and sofia used to like hookup and then reader basically came and like unintentionally stole him 😭👏🏻idk i can’t process my idea 😭

You, and you only || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: law school has been kicking my ass lately so won’t be posting until the end of next week (or earlier if I manage to stop fucking procrastinating 😭)

Warnings: a little bit of angst towards the end

Word count: 1,440

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

Rafe’s eyes track your movements as you walk with your friends toward the kitchen, a soft smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He quickly shields his expression behind the rim of his red solo cup, but the faint curve of his smirk is still visible to anyone looking closely.

Sofia, with her hand resting casually on his thigh, leans in and asks, “Wanna get more drinks?” Her tone is playful, but Rafe’s response is a casual hum. He gets up, walking with a purposeful stride toward the kitchen without casting a backward glance at Sofia.

You’re laughing with your friends, fully immersed in the conversation and unaware of the attention you’re drawing. Your friend nudges you with a teasing grin. “Rafe’s looking at you.”

You pause mid-laugh, confusion creasing your brow. “Sorry, who?” Her eyes widen in disbelief. “Y/n, we’ve talked about this a hundred times. Rafe Cameron—the hottest guy in Kildare, the Kook Prince? Does that ring any bells?”

You take a moment to process, trying to place the name and face. With a mix of curiosity and uncertainty, you subtly turn your head. Your gaze meets Rafe’s, and you notice him leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed. Despite Sofia’s animated chatter, he seems completely absorbed in observing you, his focus unwavering.

Rafe’s intense stare contrasts sharply with his indifferent demeanor towards Sofia, who continues to speak animatedly, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Rafe’s attention is elsewhere.

“He’s cute I guess,” You shrug, taking a small sip of your drink before reverting your eyes back at your friend who has an eyebrows raised. “Cute is understatement babes,” She shakes her head with a small laugh as you look over your shoulder again, this time giving him a small smile.

Rafe’s smirk deepens as he takes another deliberate sip of his drink, his eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and intent. He leans in and whispers something to Sofia, who responds with a nod and a subtle smile.

Rafe then straightens up, pushing himself off the wall with an effortless grace, and begins walking in your direction. As he nears you, he glides past without a word, leaving you momentarily puzzled. You quickly gather yourself and follow him out onto the patio. Rafe stands with his back to you, gazing out into the night.

“Rafe, right?” you call out, trying to capture his attention. When he turns around, you’re caught off guard. His chiseled features, intense gaze, and the confident way he holds himself make your breath catch. The dim lights cast a warm glow on his face, highlighting the perfect angles of his jaw and the way his eyes seem to shimmer with an intriguing depth.

“Yeah, you new 'round here?” he asks, his voice smooth and inviting. You find yourself momentarily at a loss for words, struck by how undeniably attractive he is. “Yeah, just moved here a couple of weeks ago,” you manage to say, your voice tinged with awe.

Rafe’s smile broadens as he studies you, clearly enjoying the effect he’s having. “Thought so,” he says, his eyes lingering on you with a playful glint. “I would’ve remembered a pretty face like yours.”

You blush at his compliment, feeling a flutter of excitement. “You havin’ much fun?” he asks, his tone light and casual as he leans in slightly. You hum thoughtfully, shrugging as you hug your bare arms to fend off the evening chill. “It’s alright, I guess,” you reply, glancing around the patio, your gaze drifting back to him.

With a confident, almost possessive move, Rafe wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. The sudden warmth and intimacy of his touch send a jolt through you. “Better?” he asks, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur.

Rafe leans in slightly, his breath warm against your ear as he says lowly, “It’s illegal to look this hot, y’know.” You smile at his flattery as you look up at him through your lashes Rafe’s eyes are locked onto yours, his lips curling up into a small, knowing smirk. The intensity of his stare makes your pulse quicken.

“You’re not gonna arrest me, are you, officer?” you tease, your fingers playfully reaching down to tug at the pair of handcuffs looped around his belt holes. Rafe chuckles, the sound deep and rumbling through his chest, creating a subtle vibration that you can feel even through his shirt. His laughter is warm and genuine, and it makes you smile even more.

His hands gently move up to your face, his touch tender as he tucks your hair behind your ears. The soft, deliberate motion of his fingers brushing against your skin sends a shiver down your spine. He looks at you with a smile that lights up his face, his eyes filled with admiration. “So fuckin’ pretty,” he murmurs, his voice hushed and full of sincerity.

~

"Has anyone seen Rafe?" Sofia questions, her head looking around for any sight of the Cameron boy. He had not spoken or seen Rafe since the Halloween party, which was a month ago. "Yeah, he's right over there," Kelce points Sofia to his direction.

Rafe was sat on one of the couches, joint in one hand, red solo cup in the other as he conversed in conversation with a guy. A smile makes it to Sofia's face as she gets closer. "Rafe-" Sofia cuts herself off as a girl walks in front of her, making her way to Rafe who grins ear to ear. "I'm getting more drinks, wanna come?" You ask him as he smiles up at you, immediately nodding his head like an eager puppy.

You chuckle, offering him your hand as he gets up, his arm moving to drape over your shoulder as he presses a kiss to your head. Only then does he notice Sofia standing there, her expression one of confusion and hurt.

"Oh, hey, Sof," Rafe smiles at her, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. Sofia's eyes flicker from his to yours as you sense the tension between the two. There's an awkward silence so you decide to speak up.

"Hi, I'm Y/n," You extend your hand out to her politely like the well mannered girl you were. Sofia stares at your hand before locking eyes with you. "Sofia," She says cautiously. "I was uh- actually wondering if I could talk to you Rafe, alone," She says as Rafe sucks in a breath.

“Can that wait? I’m kinda busy,” Rafe says as you turn your head to face him. Sofia pauses, her eyes flicking towards you before swallowing. “Busy? Busy with what? Cause it’s really important, Rafe,” You could tell Sofia was getting agitated and trying her best to keep her cool.

You watch in tense silence as Rafe and Sofia exchange intense stares. Uncomfortably, you shift away from Rafe’s touch, mumbling, "I’m just going to leave you guys to talk—" but you're abruptly cut off by Rafe's dismissive tone.

"No, it’s fine. I was done with the conversation anyway," he says with a shrug, giving Sofia one last glance before pulling you along with him. Sofia’s expression is a mix of shock and hurt as he leads you upstairs, and you notice tears welling up in her eyes before she quickly heads outside for some fresh air.

The walk upstairs is heavy with silence, each step echoing the weight of the tension. Rafe flops onto the bed with a frustrated sigh, dragging his hand down his face before collapsing back, staring up at the ceiling. You sit beside him, your hand gently resting on his thigh as he remains lost in thought.

"Are you okay?" you ask softly, meeting his gaze as he turns to look at you. He lets out another weary sigh. "She’s just so fucking overbearing," he mutters, his frustration clear. You search for words, starting, "You guys weren’t dating, were you—"

"God, fuck no," Rafe cuts you off, sitting up to face you. You catch a glimpse of his profile as he continues, "We just hooked up every now and then, that was it." You nod slowly, your gaze drifting to your heels as thoughts race around your mind. A gnawing doubt creeps in—was Rafe treating you the same way, just another casual hookup?

"Hey, you went all quiet. You good?" Rafe’s voice is softer now, and he gently lifts your chin to meet his eyes. You look away, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill, and ask quietly, "I’m not just someone you hook up with, am I?"

Rafe’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. "What?" he asks, his voice laced with disbelief, "Where is this coming from?" You bite your bottom lip, struggling to keep the tears at bay. "You’re not going to brush me aside like you did with Sofia, are you—"

"You're not Sofia," Rafe interrupts firmly, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear that escaped. "Hey, look at me, Y/n. Sofia and I were never going to work, okay?" He reassures you, his voice tender as he presses a comforting kiss to your forehead. "From the beginning, I told her it was just for fun, and nothing more."

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers, "I want you and only you," before trailing soft kisses along your jawline. You let out a shaky breath, the weight of his words offering some relief.

[ssahotchnerr]

BAHAH pls i need a fic where ellie’s cockblocking gets to the point where aaron is desperately asking auntie penelope or jj to babysit her and jack for a night.. he would even entrust spencer for a few hours if nobody else was available just for some alone time😫🤭

on hiatus

this concept is so funny i love it cw; mentions of sex (nothing explicit), brief suggestive content, bau teasing aaron, reader referred to as mom, dad!aaron wc; 1k

"Can't you ask?"

"Well, I could." Aaron's gaze shot to the side, through the blinds and down into the bullpen.

"It wouldn't hurt, right? Because I don't know about you, but I can't wait another night." You exhaled, a slight buzzing effect coming through the phone as a result.

"I'm right there with you." Aaron admitted, resisting the urge to squirm in his seat. "I'm seconds away from reinstalling that damn crib."

"So ask. Anyways, I gotta go. Jack will be home soon, and I should get Ellie up so she does sleep tonight."

Aaron chuckled softly, his eyes finding the family photo framed on his desk. "Why does it not surprise me that for nap time, she'll stay in her bed."

"Stubborn. Just like her father."

After saying goodbye to you, Aaron exited his office, heading to where JJ, Penelope and Derek were all congregating. Their eyes rose as he approached.

"What brings you down here?" JJ asked, using her feet to twist her chair back and forth. "We're not dawdling, I swear."

He brushed past her playful - and untrue - comment. "Need a favor."

Brief distress flashed on Derek's face. "If it requires more paperwork, just give it to Reid."

Like you had said, there was no harm in asking. "It has nothing to do with paperwork. Just in need of a babysitter for tonight."

Penelope's hand shot up, eyes brightening. "Me."

"Big Friday night eh?" Derek wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "What's on the agenda, where the two of you headin'?"

"Nowhere." Aaron shrugged nonchalantly, a smidge of embarrassment heating his face. He was hoping he could persuade with minimal details. "It'll only be for a few hours. We just need them out of the house."

"Oh," JJ smirked after a moment, accompanied with a touch of sympathy. Out of all people, she would understand. "I see."

Aaron met her eyes, keeping his face still but with subtle pleading, hoping she'd tune into it. One that read: I'm begging you not to elaborate.

They were adults. It wasn't a topic of taboo. He just wasn't just too partial on openly discussing his sex life with his colleagues. Doesn't matter how long he's known them.

"Need some, mommy and daddy time, don't you?"

Aaron's stern expression continued to linger, but gradually softened in confirmation. He was tired; tired of waiting and being on the brink.

"No wonder you've been so grumpy."

Aaron shot Morgan a look, before stating his case. "Ellie's out of her crib now. She's learned that the world still continues to go on past bedtime."

"She's out of her crib?" Penelope aww'ed, her bottom lip pouting in bittersweetness.

"And comes into our room," Aaron paused, "every night."

For the first few nights, Ellie had stayed put; the excitement and newness of it all enough to keep her in bed. However, it didn't take long for her to realize she could simply, get up.

She'd come into the living room - you'd usher her back into bed. Jack would come out a while later, complaining Ellie had gone into his room and awoken him - Aaron's turn to return her to bed.

Then came the excuses. She needed water (a sippy cup was given to her, and told this meant she had to go to sleep now). She wanted to watch a movie and "cuddle, please?" It took everything in Aaron to decline, especially after she played up the sweetness in her big, brown eyes.

You'd think after all that, she'd exhausted herself, but no. Next came her crawling into bed with the two of you.

That's where the matter currently stood. She didn't want to sleep in her new big girl bed, but rather, the big bed. Right in the middle, snug between the two of you, and keeping your plans on hiatus.

The next night, you had thought you were in the clear. But sure enough, the second Aaron was straddled atop you, his lips trailing your skin and leaving you breathless, did little footsteps make their way down the hall. Aaron would roll off you instead, supporting himself on an elbow, while you laid there defeatedly, anticipating the opening of your bedroom door.

And again the following night, the same occurrence of events. Admittedly it's been a while since the two of you have been intimate, due to a certain toddler and cases taking Aaron out of town.

Derek laughed, "She's a little menace. I love that kid."

Aaron sighed, both his frustration and need only growing more. His voice wavered on the desperate side, "So can one of you? Please. Just a few hours is all I'm asking."

"I'd be happy to relieve you two. For a full night even, Henry and Michael would love to have Jack and Ellie sleepover." JJ offered, and Aaron internally let out a deep sigh of relief. "Will and I have been there, I get it."

"I-"

"And Aunt Penelope can come too, don't worry." JJ interrupted Penelope with a smile, reaching over and giving her hand a gentle tap.

"I'd- We'd appreciate it. Thank you." Aaron's shoulders dropped, and he could already feel the tension leaving his body. A rush of energy swept through him too, anticipating the delightfully, now long, night ahead. He could not wait to get home.

His thoughts were put on hold when he noticed the glint in JJ's eyes.

"And so you can relieve yourself."

Derek cackled while Aaron rolled his eyes, turning away from the group to hide his smile.

"Just let me know what time you want them over."

[merchelsea]

hi love can we please have one with lewis where he is so clingy and touchy in the morning with wife!reader please? thank you!!

needy - lewis hamilton

pairing: lewis hamilton x wife!reader

summary: lewis missed his wife

author’s note: lewis is so husband coded i cant 😭 also why do i feel the need to make a big deal about stuff? you literally just asked for a cuddle but here i am giving this cuddle a meaning

word count: 834

warnings: none!

masterlist | request rules (open)

summer break was a need for you. lewis had been away for far too long and you just wanted him back.

he had told you he would arrive late in the night, and asked you not to wait for him and jeopardize your sleep schedule. but of course you tried to stay awake (and failed).

he found you sleeping in the couch as soon as he open the door to your house.

he let out a chuckle, knowing exactly why you were there instead of your shared bed. he closed the door behind him and took some steps closer to you, to see you more clearly.

you still looked like an angel in his eyes and he didn't want to wake you up. so he placed his things on the floor, and walked over to you, careful not to make any noise.

he kissed the top of your head and felt a tear roll down his left cheek. fuck, he had missed you.

smiling, your husband changed into his pajamas and opened the bed. he wanted to change you into your nightwear as well, but he figured it would be too hard and you were already wearing comfortable enough clothes so he just carried you to bed.

lewis tried his best to make only subtle movements and be quiet, and he managed to complete his mission successfully.

once in bed, it didn't take long for his breath to start slowing down and for his thoughts to drift. you had this effect on him, even from afar you managed to calm him down in ways no one else ever could, this was one of the things that made him realize you were the one.

and while falling asleep next to you, he could only know that he had made the right decision in marrying you.

hours passed and now the sun started to rise up again. the curtains on your bedroom window weren't enough to keep him out of your room, and it slowly woke you up.

you felt a weight on your waist and when you turned to look you saw your husband laying next to you. his peaceful expression managed to get a smile out of you in less than a second.

you traced his features with your eyes and then left a kiss on his cheekbone.

you thought about getting up and closing the blinds completely, so he wouldn't wake up with the brightness, but you let yourself be a little selfish and you didn't do it. you wanted your husband to wake up as soon as possible.

and it didn’t exactly take long for him to start opening his eyes.

catching your gaze, he even let out a muffled laugh.

his grip on you only tightened and he pulled you closer, laying his head on your chest.

“my girl, i missed you so much.”

he whispered as he kissed your skin. the british man had no idea of what had gotten into him, but he just needed to touch you, and kiss you and just be close to you.

“missed you too, lew. missed you so much.”

you messed with his beautiful braids as he kissed the skin of your arms and hugged you close.

“i hope you know silverstone was for you. for us.”

he looked up at you and you felt you heart get warmer. this man was your everything, and you had no doubt.

"i love you so much." you stated, capturing his head with your hands. "and i really need to go make some breakfast for us."

"i love you too, sweetheart. but please order something, i don't want you out of this bed yet." he hugged your waist and layed his head there, making it impossible for you to leave.

you usually loved when he was all clingy and needy, but boy did you need some food in your stomach.

"lew, baby, i'm starving." you told him in a soft laugh.

"and i've been away for far too long, not letting you go just now." he closed his eyes and kept his head still. obviously he had no intention of leaving in the next couple of hours.

"you big baby"

he simply hummed and you felt the vibration of his throat. realizing that lewis was not gonna give in, you ordered some croissants from the only bakery close enough you knew would bring the food to you. then you let yourself relax next to him.

the simple fact of being near each other made you both feel safe. the world outside could wait, you had somewhere to be, someone to be with.

neither of you said a single word, but there was no need to. the way he carressed the side of your body and the way your lips kissed his head were communicating enough.

with closed eyes, you sank in his embrace. feeling all his love, the peace he brought you and how much you’d always belong there.

in lewis’ arms. it was your place.

© merchelsea

if you'd like to be tagged in any of my future works, let me know ;)

[k1ng-ej]

Can you make a piece doing JJK boys being clingy with their girlfriends/partners (not sure which you write for!) and if you don’t want to do all the JJK boys maybe Choso or Inumaki? Thank you :))

Notes: Yes! I do not write for Yuta (and maybe a few others I'm forgetting), but I had a lot of fun writing this! This is my first time writing for a few of these characters so i apologize if they are out of character or not as good as the others ! also, i love the art you did of choso with his hair down a bit ago hehe ! (Requests are open)

Warnings: A lot of waist grabbing, slightly suggestive with Toji

Features: Gojo, Geto, Toji, Nanami, Choso, Yuji, Megumi, and Toge

JJK boys being clingy with you ₊˚⊹♡

Gojo

He's unafraid of displaying his clinginess, making it impossible to escape his touch in public or his incessant text messages. He always keeps a firm grip on your hand and has his arm securely around you. He reminded you of a puppy. He finds it difficult to communicate his emotions, particularly when he needs reassurance. However, as time goes by, you have become familiar with his gestures and discovered that his favorite way to seek comfort is by resting his head on your lap.

You find yourself now reclining on the couch, seeking solace after a heated argument. It was an unnecessary clash, and you wisely decided to distance yourself before uttering regrettable words. Suddenly, you hear the faint sound of Satoru's door creaking open, causing your gaze to fixate on the hallway, anticipating his emergence.

He had the appearance of a dog caught in the act, being confronted by their owner for their misbehavior.

Nervously, he made his way to the couch, anxiously settling into his seat. The fear of provoking a negative reaction from you lingered, making it difficult for him to relax.

While you were engrossed in your movie, you paid no attention to his gradual approach. This was a recurring pattern after your disputes. He would hover nearby, edging closer little by little. It was his unique method of expressing remorse and attempting to reconcile with you. Though it irritated you, it undeniably proved effective, for it was impossible to remain angry with him forever.

"Come here," you said with a dramatic sigh, invitingly patting your lap.

His face filled with joy, and without hesitation, he rested his head on your lap. Gently, you caressed his hair, soothing his scalp with a delicate massage. Occasionally, your hand rested on the side of his face, your thumb moving in a slow, comforting motion, tracing his cheek.

Geto

Suguru has a subtle way of showing his affection, preferring to express his clinginess in private. However, even in public, he can't help but steal glances at you or lightly brush his hand against yours as he passes by. Although he's not much of a texter, Suguru is fond of calling instead. So, when you're out and your phone unexpectedly rings, you can't help but be startled, but deep down, you already know it's him eagerly calling to inquire about your whereabouts and when you'll be returning.

A few minutes ago, he sent you a text instructing you to come to his room. You gently opened the door and stole a glance inside, catching sight of your partner in a state of complete relaxation, comfortably dressed in casual attire.

Timidly, you entered the room, gently closing the door behind you. With cautious steps, you approached his bed and slipped in beside him. He was dressed in a casual combination of a loose white shirt and black sweatpants. A cozy blanket covered him, and he promptly enveloped you in its warmth as soon as you lay down beside him.

His arm instinctively wrapped around your waist, drawing you closer to him. He planted tender kisses on your forehead and the top of your head, serenading you with sweet words. Your cheeks blushed, and you sought solace by burying your face in his embrace.

"Why are you so nervous? We've been together for months, yet you still seem so bashful around me, my love," he whispered gently, as his finger delicately brushed against your chin, tilting it upwards to meet his gaze.

"I'm not sure," you replied, offering a shy smile.

Your dopey smile was captivating to him. He adored seeing that smile, and it compelled him to draw nearer, pressing his lips against yours in a passionate kiss that made you feel as though you were melting away.

Toji

You've never encountered anyone as possessive as him. He shoots fierce glances at anyone who dares to cast a glance your way, and he constantly craves your affection, demanding kisses on a regular basis. Your neck is almost always adorned with his passionate marks, and no matter how many times you protest, he effortlessly silences you with a tender kiss.

"I'm home!" you exclaimed, shutting the door behind you. Initially, Toji was just renting a room in your house, but after you two became a couple, he became a permanent member of the household and no longer pays rent. As a result, you find yourself working more than ever before.

Toji loomed in the entrance, arms folded across his chest, his gaze drifting up and down your silhouette. The hunger in his eyes was a constant presence, causing you to squirm uneasily and your face to redden.

"Hey, have you eaten yet?" you asked softly as you brushed past him and made your way into the living room, which was adjacent to the kitchen.

"I did," he replied, firmly grasping your waist with his large hands.

You despised it when he behaved in such a way, yet you found yourself unable to break free from his hold. He forcefully drew you towards him until your back was tightly pressed against his figure. Without delay, he began to passionately kiss your neck. With each delicate touch of his lips against your flesh, an irresistible sensation of ticklishness arose, causing you to instinctively wriggle and yearn to distance yourself from him.

"Why are you always trying to distance yourself from me, baby?" he murmured softly into your ear.

"Toji, I've just arrived home after a long day of work, and the moment I step in the door, you're already all over me," you complained, gently removing his hands from you.

"I can't resist, you're absolutely stunning," he said with a smirk, trailing along as you settled on the couch.

Your moment of relaxation was abruptly interrupted as he forcefully pulled you onto his lap. You let out a groan of annoyance, reflexively wrapping your hands around his neck. However, he swiftly silenced you by passionately kissing you. At that moment, you realized that you couldn't complain any longer, as deep down, you relished in his neediness and his constant desire for your attention. Despite your fatigue, you couldn't help but feel elated that Toji truly wanted you and treated you with love and care.

His lips left a trail of passionate kisses down your neck, and your fingers became intertwined in the strands of his hair.

Choso

Choso is similar to a toddler that constantly follows you, tightly holding onto a piece of fabric from your clothes. He is tender and endearing, but also fears that his clinginess might bother you, causing him to frequently withdraw.

That only induces worry, and when you attempt to address the issue with him, his face turns as crimson as a ripe tomato, while he stumbles over his words and fabricates feeble excuses.

You found yourself in a quaint clothing store, browsing for new tops to replace the ones that suffered damage during your daring missions. Among the selection, you carefully lifted a vibrant, long-sleeved red shirt, unsure yet intrigued about whether it would suit your taste.

Choso was standing right behind you, his hand tightly clutching your shirt as he observed other shoppers. He was pleasantly surprised when you swiftly spun around to meet his gaze, a faint smile adorning your lips.

"What are your thoughts on this? Personally, I find it slightly too snug for my taste..." you lifted the top, examining it, before pressing it against your body.

"It's absolutely beautiful. You would look absolutely breathtaking wearing it," he boldly responded, shamelessly admiring you while he had the opportunity.

Blushing, you quickly tossed the top into your small basket and eagerly took hold of his hand, guiding him towards the checkout counter.

Nanami

At first, he didn't strike you as the clingy type. However, you were taken aback when he tiredly entered the house, removed his shoes, loosened his tie, and half-unbuttoned his shirt before collapsing on the couch next to you. His arm instinctively wrapped around your neck, drawing you close to him. Surprisingly, this became his routine every time he arrived home, and he would frequently message you during the day to ensure your well-being.

As he assured you he would be home soon, you decided to take charge of dinner preparations. Your utmost concern was to provide him with nourishing meals, especially after his demanding missions.

As you hear the door open and then close, your heart quickens in anticipation. Nanami enters the kitchen, his powerful arms wrapping around your waist, enveloping you in his embrace.

"Welcome home," you cheerfully greeted, spinning around and embracing him with your arms wrapped around his neck.

“Dinner smells good. How was your day?” he asked, his touch light but possessive as he held onto your waist.

"It was great! Tiring, but certainly nothing I couldn't handle. And how about you?" you said, flashing him a sweet smile.

"Same as always," he murmured, leaning down to gently kiss your nose. "Shall we eat?"

With a nod, you reach for two plates. Artfully arranging the food on each plate, you then make your way to the living room where Nanami awaits. Handing him his plate, you leisurely settle on the other end of the couch, playfully kicking your feet up and gently placing your legs across his lap.

You sat together in silence, savoring each other's company, a familiar ritual between you both.

Nanami was the first to finish his meal. He leaned forward, gently placing his empty plate on the small coffee table in front of the couch. Suddenly, you were surprised when you felt his large hands begin to massage your tired feet, a rare gesture from him. Without a word of complaint, you carried on enjoying your food. He was a true gentleman, always putting your happiness and well-being before his own.

After you had finished your meal and tidied up the kitchen, Nanami gently took your hand, guiding you towards the bedroom. There, he warmly embraced you as you two laid down, allowing your head to rest upon his chest, as you listened to the rhythmic beat of his heart. With his thumb, he tenderly traced circles upon your back, soothing you until both of you peacefully drifted into slumber.

Yuji

He is incredibly affectionate and caring, but he tends to be overly attached. His greatest concern is not being by your side if something were to happen to you. He consistently stays by your side, whether it is for a leisurely stroll, a shopping trip, or an important errand.

Sometimes he may be unable to accompany you, no matter how much he desires to. However, he reaches out to you, timidly requesting that you remain on the call until your return, providing him reassurance that everything is alright.

"Yuji, you do realize that I can simply text you, right?" you playfully chuckled over the phone as you disembarked from the train.

"I know, but if you don't reply to my texts, I'm left wondering what might have happened!" he complained from the other side.

You let out a contented sigh and shook your head playfully, all while sporting a contagious smile. To top it off, you were cozying up in one of his cherished hoodies. Your collection of his hoodies was a testament to their irresistibly soft and snug nature - an indulgence you simply couldn't resist.

"Do you know how incredibly adorable you are?" you asked, strolling along a bustling sidewalk towards your destination.

“I’m glad you think so. I love you y/n.” he said in a hushed tone, conscious of his surroundings and not wanting them to eavesdrop on this intimate moment.

"I love you too," you replied, giggling. You could imagine the slight blush he must have had, which made you giggle even more.

Megumi

Megumi may not be the touchy-feely type or a master of verbal expressions, but his constant stream of text messages makes up for it. Your phone is always abuzz with his messages, making sure you're always connected.

As you felt a vibration coming from your pocket, you instinctively retrieved your phone to see the latest message from Megumi.

M <3: 

Where are you? I miss you.

You:

Im just at the store megs. Ill be back soon :) 

M <;3:

Hurry up, the beds getting cold without you.

You couldn't help but let out a chuckle as you slid your phone back into your pocket. Afterward, you swiftly grabbed a handful of snacks from the shelf before making your way to the checkout counter. It's funny how Megumi reveals his need for attention only when you two are alone, and it seems like a significant portion of your time together is spent with him dozing off on your lap.

As soon as you finished paying for the snacks, you rushed back to his room. As you entered, his arms immediately wrapped around your neck, pulling you into a warm and affectionate embrace.

"Hey, Megumi. Hold on a sec, I need to take off my shoes." You chuckled, unable to reciprocate his embrace because of the bags you were holding.

Murmuring something softly, he backed away, allowing you the opportunity to remove your shoes. You carefully set the bags of snacks on his desk, and as soon as they were no longer in your grasp, he eagerly guided you towards his bed. With a playful roll of your eyes, you climbed into the bed, and settled in comfortably while he positioned himself on top of you.

With his head nestled on your chest, he closed his eyes tenderly. You sensed his entire body surrendering to relaxation, as his breath gently steadied, while your fingers lovingly became entwined in his soft hair.

Toge

You adore him with all your heart, but unfortunately, you cannot spare hours in his room, indulging in YouTube together. Due to his cursed speech, it makes it hard to communicate between the two of you, but the more time you spent with him, you began to understand when he spoke in rice ball ingredients. He demonstrates his attachment by sending you text messages at completely unpredictable times, requesting your presence in his dorm.

The very first time he did this, you truly relished the moments spent together, laughing at a few videos and snuggling on his bed.

You had just arrived back from a long mission when you received his message. Despite being tempted to decline, you couldn't resist. You found yourself drawn to his room, where darkness surrounded you, except for the soft radiance of a lamp and the flickering glow of the TV. He was seated on the bed, his relaxed shirt and comfortable pants giving him a casual appearance. His hair was disheveled, with a few strands sticking out, adding to his charm.

You greeted him in a tired manner, shuffling your feet as you approached and settled down on his bed. As you watched TV, he leaned his shoulder against yours, a comforting gesture that you had grown accustomed to. He always sought closeness with you, whether it was through your thighs touching, fingers gently brushing, or any other intimate connection. Your eyelids were heavy, and it was a challenge to concentrate on the video he turned on. Eventually, you kicked off your shoes and made yourself at ease in his comfortable bed. However, the moment your head touched the pillow, you succumbed to the peaceful depths of slumber.

It wasn't until after about 20 minutes that Toge realized you had fallen asleep. Swiftly, he turned off the television and tenderly covered you with a warm blanket, gently brushing away a few stray strands from your face. He planted a soft kiss on your cheek before snuggling up next to you, also succumbing to a peaceful nap.

[thepixelelf]

warnings: coarse language. wc: 793

[the amnesia card always declines]

If there's one thing Joshua Hong has above all else, it's the audacity.

If there's two things, it's the audacity and the most grabbable, stupidly defined, makes-you-wanna-bite-into-them man tits you've ever seen in your godforsaken, miserable life.

Well, okay, maybe that counts as three things. Whatever.

"Oh my fucking god," you hiss, ducking closer to the coffee shop/bakery's table and hiding your entire head with both arms. "What is he doing here?!"

Soonyoung, the least subtle person you know (but you've given up on fixing him at this point) turns 180 degrees in his chair to watch the loser posing for a "totally casual" photoshoot outside. He hums in understanding, putting his hand under his chin like an experienced detective. "He must've seen your instagram story."

"He doesn't even follow me..."

"Oh, he's following you, alright." Soonyoung turns back around and stabs his fork into his strawberries 'n' cream croffle.

You glare at him over the pastries on the table. "Very funny."

"I know I am," he says with a dumb smile that says your sarcasm was not effective! "When are you going to stop holding your stupid grudge?"

An offended scoff escapes you. "It is a completely reasonable grudge, for your information."

"What, you being mad at him for...kissing you at that party?"

"For smooshing that stupid pretty face on mine at that party then acting like it never happened!" You slap your hands on the table, but as soon as you spot Joshua outside start to turn his head, you duck back into hiding.

Soonyoung points his fork at you. "He was drunk."

"So was I," you argue with a sneer. "But I remember everything-- especially you being the reason we had to cut the night short because you started drunk-crying and I had to take you home."

Suddenly capable of shame, Soonyoung scoots forward in his chair and leans over the table. "Have I mentioned that I love you and you're the best friend in the world?"

"Whatever, buddy." You roll your eyes. "Just remember all the shit I've done for you when I'm the one crying in the club."

"Crying in the club?" echoes Joshua--

Joshua?!

Your soul escapes your body entirely and jolts back in a nano-second. "Holy fuck--" You put a hand over your racing heart and send a death glare to the smug offender. "You scared the shit out of me!"

Joshua just smiles that stupidly pretty smile and, damn it, you're supposed to be ignoring this jackass.

"Sorry," he says, but he doesn't sound sorry at all. "Are you free?"

Making a face, you look over at Soonyoung, who just shrugs, then back at Joshua. "...Right now?"

"Right now is good." He nods in thought. "Or later today. Or tomorrow. If not, then the day after that. You've been avoiding me."

You force your shoulders to relax and avert your eyes. "No I haven't."

Joshua's expression suddenly goes solemn, which you notice because, shit, you started looking at him again. "Did I do something?"

At that, you scoff, crossing your arms and shaking your head in disbelief.

"Seriously. That party... I don't remember much, except that I've barely seen you since."

"Don't play the amnesia card on me, Josh. It's so tired."

His brows furrow, and your stupid fingers want to massage the hurt look right off his forehead. As if the dumbass deserves it.

"It's not amnesia," Joshua says. "But it's fuzzy. I can't tell what really happened that night or what was just my dream."

"Really? We're talking dreams now?"

He shrugs, crossing his arms, which fold just underneath those stupid, huge pecs... "I happen to dream about you a lot."

"Mmhm... Sure..." Are they bigger than the croffles? The melon buns? The... "Wait-- what?"

Joshua smiles, and you just know he caught you staring, the little shit. "I said, I dream about you a lot. Kiss scenes included."

Your jaw drops, maybe to the floor, but you can't be bothered to check. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Soonyoung make a perfect circle with his mouth before he hurriedly asks the barista if they serve popcorn.

"Joshua Hong, you..." Standing from your chair, you fist the collar of his fleece sweater in both hands, primed to throttle. "...are so fucking stupid."

Then somehow, even though you're the one who pulls him in, he's the one who takes your breath away.

When your lips part, though, you open your eyes while his stay closed, and he leans in again.

"Wait," you say, halting him with the one word. "How did you find me here?"

Wincing, Joshua peeks just one eye open. "Please don't be mad at him."

You whip around, but the bell over the shop's door is already tinging, and Soonyoung is dashing across the street like his life depends on it.

Good, because it does.

"Kwon Soonyoung! You are so fucking dead!"

[2-dsimp]

if it’s no trouble could we get another part to DILF/ nanny reader? Maybe like a willing reader? Bc I know of a hot dad wanted to date me who am I to say no? Lol great work!!!!

Cw: fem reader! jealousy, possessive/obsessive tendencies, Quio and Miki butting heads, the plot thickens

Synopsis no.2: 【featuring you being caught in the middle between your coworker and employer literally and figuratively. Miki obviously hates your employer and makes it well known meanwhile Quio does the same vice versa. The Dilf tried his best to put his and Peina’s plan of seducing you into action. But he’s constantly getting interrupted. And He’s honestly so close to snapping at this point.】

☆*:.���..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:

“I wish you’d stop by here more often after all you’re already part of the family."

The Dilf sighs melodramatically, electing a small giggle from your lips. Seeing how he acted so distraught due to your absence. While he led you and your coworker to the living room, gesturing for you to take a seat on the couch.

“Oh that’s kind of you to say Mr. Evinis but I can’t possibly impose on you guys. Plus I’ve still gotta work my boring office job”

You replied with a mirthful tone at his sweet comment truly feeling as if you’ve made a second home within your employers household. You’ve already grown accustomed to his friendly work staff and of course his darling daughter who was l always clinging onto you like a baby kitten. And the fact that her father was so chivalrous and kind didn’t help your own little crush from forming on the single dad.

“Oh perish the thought sugarling~ we’re lucky enough to even be blessed by your radiant grace. In this boring household.”

Quio reassures with a charming smile, as he makes sure to fluff up some fancy decor pillows for his lovely lady. After placing the plush pillows down where you’d sit, He then put a hand on your shoulder giving a comforting squeeze.

“In fact me and the little squirt have always gotten excited at seeing you pull up and we’d be more than happy to keep you hostage here if possible”

The Dilf admits in a cheesy manner, which made you feel at ease. From how sweet his insistence at you dropping by often to hang out was. Being none the wiser to how he was being 100% serious. About the part where him and his daughter briefly molled over the idea of keeping their lovely nanny hostage at their mansion. Since they honestly couldn’t get enough of how addicting your sunshine liken presence.

Lit up every dark lonesome corner of the estate and they’d be damned if they every let you get a chance to escape from their sights. brandishes a pearly grin at the thought of being able to cater personally to his future missus.

“Also if your boring office job is what’s holding you back from spending quality time with us then I can think of a couple solutions to—“

“Um, let me stop you right there man. Whatever you’re pitching would be nice and all but I need my work wife.”

Once again you missed the small micro transgression within the Dilf’s facial features as his eye twitched at the irksome interruption done by that worthless dickbag.

“Aha work wife? With someone like you? I see you’re the type to joke around huh?”

He replied in an tone of condescension giving Miki a mean spirited smile. And an idle glance over full of scorn at the self assured confidence in this boy, who was proclaiming that his darling was his work wife.

“Well I am quite the jokester—wait what the hell do you mean by someone like me??”

You nearly busted out laughing at how Miki got a miffed expression on his face from the subtle dig done by the famous actor. You didn’t necessarily claim to be Miki’s work wife as nice as his company was. He was an utter shitty coworker to have when you’re trying to get shit done. Whenever you two were paired it’d be him cracking jokes while you were working like an effective machine.

“Well If anything they’re my work wife, no my wife, since yknow she’s looking after my kid like the little darling angel she is”

Quio nearly purred with a sharp edge to his voice as he blatantly rubbed it in Miki’s face the sheer difference. Between the two of them and how he was ultimately more important in your standings.

“Anit that right sweetness?”

The single dad hummed with a sickening sweet expression that resembled a hopeful doe eyed buck. His shouldering eyes never failed to make your heart do kick flips from how they always seemed to focus on purely you. Almost as if you were his world, his missing half. You got extremely flustered that you could barely even respond to his words. Until Miki let out a sneer and fixed his apparent love rival a shrewd scowl.

“Oh please as if! She’s your Nanny, not your substitute wife. Plus I already called dibs on her first, my guy.”

The sight of that damned flea mansplaining on the couch with the slinging over his arm right behind your head. Made Quio imagine ripping that same offending arm from our his socket and bitch slapping him with it.

“Dibs? Are you insinuating that she’s an object to be possessed by the likes of a peasant like you?”

He taunts snarkily, dropping his nice guy facade as makes his way to sit right in between you and Miki. Squeezing his bulky frame in the middle of the couch he gracefully crosses his legs as he swats off the offending arm behind your head and replaces it with his own.

“Tch! Now you know that’s not what I meant. It’s always you actors spinning fabricated lies. And the fuck did you just—“

“Miki don’t you think that it’s time for you to go soon? You’re gonna be late for work”

You interjected seeing how things were getting out of hand between the two offending men. Quio merely gave a smug smile as he saw Miki begrudgingly get up with an scowl on his face. You were right he had to go soon since he couldn’t be late for his promotion into higher management. He didn’t tell you that yet because he wanted to surprise you on the day you both worked the same shift.

“Ah fuck your right, thanks for the reminder what would I do without my precious work wife?”

Miki emphasized loudly, Shooting a glare towards the A-listed actor as he then gave you an abrupt hug goodbye whilst still glowering at the Dilf. The two seemed to be exchanging a clash of mixed silent threats behind your back.

Quio “gently” nudged Miki away from his darling with a hard shove with the pointy tip of his shoe upon his midriff. Making your coworker stumble back with a sharp exhaled grunt escaping his lips. Good, he hoped that fucker gets sore down there. The single dad was always about getting his get back by being petty whenever someone blatantly tried to piss him off.

“Alright that’s enough Casanova wouldn’t wanna keep your bosses waiting yeah?”

The Dilf chirped in a sweet noncommittal manner as he briefly pulled you into a side hug. As if to cleanse you from the poor touch Miki had given you. Miki had to bite back his tongue since he really couldn’t afford to waste time with the man’s shenanigans. And rolled his eyes he could only afford to shoot you a word of warning with concern shining in his eyes before he made his way outside of the million dollar manor.

“Be careful… You know how actors are, always so full of shit. Call me when you’re done I’ll come to pick you up okay?”

“Yeah yeah, don’t let the door hit cha on ya on the way out Miki”

Quio sassed as he couldn’t wait to have that cocky fucker out of sight and out of mind. There were so many times where the actor came close to acting out. One of his many aspiring roles which consisted of him being a deranged serial killer. It would’ve gave him peace of mind to choke out that lanky shithead and watch the life leave his eyes.

But he had better things to do at the moment rather than drone in about how he’d murder Miki in cold blood. Like wooing you over for instance which was unfortunately put on pause due to a pest intent on getting in the way between you and him. So he feels a sense of relief wash over him as Miki leaves, knowing that he can finally have you all to himself.

“It seems like you two get along well enough already”

You caught the Dilf off guard with your off handed comment as he gave you a raised brow and an apprehensive smile. He shook his head slightly and gave a dark chuckle at how naive you were to perceive their little spat to be that of a friendly origin. When they clearly wanted to go at each others necks.

“It would seem so… But hey I was wondering if you’d be interested in—“

His phone decided to go off in the most headache inducing way. He could hear the annoying ringtone which indicated that his manager was calling and he bit back a snarl from being interrupted once again. Collecting himself he excused himself from the couch not being fore taking your hand in his and giving it a small chaste kiss as he gave you an apologetic gaze.

“Sorry about this sugarling I’ve gotta take this call I’ll be right back”

With his servants taking leave at his behest today was the day he planned on tying the metaphorical knot with the cute Nanny that stole both his and his little girl’s heart. So his manager had better got a pretty damn good reason for bugging him on his day of vacation leave. Or else they’ll get added to the hitlist alongside that damned coworker of yours.

。

。

。

I’m thinking of making this into a mini series, let me know if I should continue!o(≧v≦)o

[rizsu]

ꪆ୧ ── WISH UNATTAINABLE ┊ A MERE DREAM ﹑ HSR ⤿ starring: boothill ◟ sunday ◟ dr. ratio.

꒰ a player's mission ﹢ ding! quest(s) unlocked. to obtain a reward of 100 stellar jades, knock yourself out with missions involving your favourite! don't get caught up in the dream though.

𖧷 · love, ‘su: i clearly had an idea & needed to jot it down before i forgot about it (old draft i wrote when i js was fresh into hsr bear w me 😢)

COSMIC SPLENDOR AND MERITED PRAISES ⟡ siobhan’s revealed that someone's here for you, insisting for you to not be a killjoy and come meet him.

“drink's on me sweetheart, knock ya'self out,” boothill slides the cocktail at you, giving his signature smirk as its free side dish.

you're not quite sure what you expected, but boothill being a bartender wasn't one of them. actually — it's believable when you think about it.

when siobhan sent you those messages, your mind went to either gallagher or aventurine. (un)fortunately, your guess was wrong. you are now a taste-tester and subjected to subtle flirting? a win is a win.

boothill puts a hand on his hip. he mixed the drink gracefully with siobhan's aid, it's bound to be perfect — hopefully.

“what's it called?” you asked, turning the glass around to appreciate the red and orange ombre. it reminds you of someone, but you can't put a finger on it.

“didn't think that far into it.” he shrugs. “you can name it, sweetheart.”

“i can name it sweetheart?”

“no, i meant... well, why the fuck not.”

you're sure you heard a disappointed sigh from him. maybe it's the alcohol? whatever, it tastes good. the drink's sweet, but it leaves a bitter aftertaste — if that makes sense. it's so sweet that you keep sipping, yet it's so bitter that you're reminded it's alcohol and not juice. a perfect balance.

gently placing the glass down, you slid it towards boothill, “another glass please, gentleman.”

“right away, darlin’,” he accepts your request, refilling your glass with the sweetheart special. this time, he adds a little edible glitter in the mix to spice up the aesthetic.

the glass is once again slid back to you. the only difference is a shine to the liquid. the new beauty to it can make even argenti fall to his knees to worship it (he worships anything beautiful).

“it's so good i can kiss you for it,” you mindlessly reply, licking your lips from the excess liquid.

goodness, do you want him to overheat? is the way to defeat a galaxy ranger a compliment without thought put into it?!

“pfft— uh— well—” he sputters, unable to form a proper sentence yet.

a few coughs later, he regains his ability to speak, “it's just that good ain't it, darlin’?”

“you're the best and i need you in the express to make fifteen of these,” with desperation in your voice, you lean over to hold his hand. it's cold, but not cold enough to make you back away.

“i'll be right with ya!”

THE INTERPRETATION OF DREAMS ⟡ you received an anonymous message urging you to come to penacony. it felt like a scam, but the messages were too prim and proper to be one.

hmm, something isn't right. you can feel it in your bones. either you're experiencing side effects of being on cleaning duty, or you're being hunted down. has your excellence finally exceed you to the point where you've appeared on someone's hitlist? maybe.

staring at the message on your phone, you squint at it before moving your head away. you must be careful or else you'd be affected by its ominous energy.

there's only one logical decision to make: find dan heng and let him decipher a possible hidden code in the messages.

“dan heng, i need you!” you exclaimed, opening his room's door with a force that should only be reserved for battles.

“did you clean your manners out too?” sighing, dan heng closes the book he's reviewing.

“i think i'm being kidnapped,” ignoring his snarky comments, you enter his room, showing him the pile of messages.

> Hello, (y/n). I trust that you've been well during your trips.

> Have you decided on whether you'll return to Penacony? If not, I hope that you come soon.

> There is something I wish to do with you.

> Meet me at The Reverie Hotel 10 system hours from when you reply. I shall accompany you directly instead of a regular staff.

> That is all. I'll keep the conversations for our meeting.

you shake your head, hugging your body in attempts to shield yourself.

“see! there's no way that isn't someone out to get me.”

dan heng falls silent. clearly, this is someone you've met before, but who? they haven't left any name, let alone a profile icon. there's only one way to find out and that's to reply.

“hand me your phone, i'll reply.”

...

have you been deceived? is dan heng in on this too? why would he reply? suspicion dominates over you. you slowly back away from his side.

“damn... they really do say your enemies are close.”

“that's now how it... whatever. just give me the phone so i can ask for their identity.” his tone's laced with disappointment. he's not surprised, but boy was he wrong for thinking you matured.

being left with no other choice, you surrender your phone and safety to him.

< Sorry, who are you?

< I'm sure we've met though.

“they're typing...” he mutters, leaning into your side so you can see the screen too.

> My apologies. I forgot to set my account.

> This is Sunday, head of the Oak Family.

“sunday?!”

“sunday!?”

this time you both were taken by surprise. out of everyone in penacony that would've sent you a text, he was the least expected. dan heng shoots you a pitiful look. he's pretty sure sunday's still on your hitlist.

“i am not going.”

“it's rude to ignore someone's request.”

“dan heng,” you began, folding your arms across your chest, “you can't make me go.”

in response dan heng simply nods. he walks out his room and into the main area. you're not sure what he did, but he came back to you lounging on his bed in five minutes.

you were already comfortable, with one knee up and a foot on the knee. you expected him to come back, but not with a trusted adult.

“are you serious?”

“himeko, (y/n)'s ignoring someone's request to meet.”

one corner of his mouth moves up. he knows he won this battle. snitching is the way to go, always.

and that's how you're now standing besides sunday. all stiff with nervous laughs, praying to whichever aeon that he doesn't use the telepathy punishment thing on you. it's game over and restart if he ever dares to.

sunday's as poise as ever — with a hand behind his back, he observes the view of oti mall below. it's bustling with life; the noise is enough to do all the talking. truly a one-sided comfortable silence.

“so... how's life been, sunday?” you tread carefully with your question and behaviour. you don't even make eye contact.

sunday smiles slightly, “it's been busy as ever. this is probably the only moment of peace in my schedule.”

and it's silent again. how do you continue a conversation with a bigshot? you ran your mouth with the supreme guardian of belobog but god forbid you're with the head of the oak family. scary.

cold sweat drops. you have got to keep the conversation going or you'll lose your mind in seven minutes.

“been getting into gambling with the slot machines lately. what about you?”

perfect. ten out of ten. a penacony-related addiction.

“i see you've picked up that ipc stoneheart's behaviour.”

okay, maybe it wasn't that perfect. and was that disappointment?!

it's silent again. you steal a glance of sunday and it did not help. he has a relaxed expression on his face. his chest rising and falling with every breath. is he truly comfortable with the silence? you're dying here.

a sigh leaves you. why not just speak your mind.

“to be honest, it's a little uncomfortable being so silent. i feel like i'm being watched by that large eye in the mall.”

sunday's head turns, his expression slightly changes.

“apologies, i did not notice. would you like to take a walk together?” he suggests, holding his palm out to you.

you place your hand in his, trying to hide the smile. you're finally going to do something instead of standing like an npc.

“yeah, sure.”

after your approval, you basically re-toured penacony. he even took you to his office. that's not even the biggest part. the huge wow factor here is that you were hand-in-hand with him. yes, hands intertwined with the most handsome man in penacony. someone should be jealous.

although his hand was gloved it still counts. the gloves are thin anyway — it was basically skin contact. had you known beforehand that sunday's hand was this manly you wouldn't have even complained to dan heng.

COSMIC SPLENDOR AND MERITED PRAISES ⟡ herta bothered you to return to her station, insisting that she needs your help. you reluctantly agreed, but didn't expect to meet the doctor you've been hitting on.

> Come. I need to experiment on you.

< Excuse me?!?

> Aeon stuff.

< Which Aeon is it?

< Herta?

< Hellooooo... Anyone there...?

> [Automatic reply] Hi, I'm currently unavailable, and won't be contacting you later.

< You've got to be kidding me.

> [Automatic reply] Hi, I'm currently unavailable, and won't be contacting you later.

a heavy sigh leaves you. new day, same old herta demanding your presence and going off the net. well, it's been a while since you've revisited herta's space station, and it doesn't hurt gaining new knowledge on aeons. hopefully it'd be quick... and that screwllum's there as well. out of the three, screwllum's the sole one that's gentle.

once you stepped foot in her office, you stepped right back out. seeing someone you've been avoiding to reply to their messages certainly isn't a good thing. the chances of the man you were testing your charisma on being with herta is low — incredibly low — but never zero.

“come here, (y/n).” a voice filled with authority calls for you who's standing to the side of the door.

you purposefully chose that position; since the doors are automatic, they'd immediately open if you were directly in front of it.

“no, thanks!” you yelled, preferring to stay where its safe from confrontations.

inside the office, herta folds her arms. the clock is ticking, and she doesn't want to lose interest before she can glimpse the secret of at least one aeon.

“just go get her. what're you standing there for?”

with a tone as blunt as that, ratio feels slightly offended, but he can't argue. she's right, he can simply bring you back inside the office.

confidentally walking towards the door, he steps out and immediately turns his head left. it was as he calculated: you were right there leaning against the wall, trying your best to act nonchalant while ignoring his obvious presence.

“don't act childish.” disappointment laces his voice, his folded arms shows it, too.

“whatever do you mean, doctor?” you smiled.

ratio's having none of it. he moves his position to stand in front of you, forcing you to look at him instead.

“your behaviour then and now is childish. get back in the office.”

“cut me some slack! do you think the courage i have over text translates to real life?” your defenses raise, poking his chest to enforce your point. “you're intimidating and handsome, dude. give me a break.”

a silence follows. the kind of silence that indicates you said something you definitely should've kept as a thought. nervously, you move your eyes to look at ratio's. the eye contact doesn't last long — like you said, he's intimidating (and handsome).

“tell me something i don't know.” ratio breaks the silence, grabbing your finger off his chest. “but that's not the point here, is it? we have something to do.”

mood: ruined. it's common knowledge to anyone who's been in a conversation with ratio that he's well aware of his visuals. compliments are nothing new to him — it's a shame he didn't act the way he did in your daydreams.

“gosh, you're so annoying.” a voice of defeat.

grumbling, you straightened your posture, making your way back to herta's office. ratio followed behind, observing the you walked. has someone walking always been attractive, or is it just because it's you? a question that he'll be pondering on until he finds a suitable answer.

“hey. you guys took too long. i don't wanna do it again,” herta complains the second she saw you two walk in.

[freedomfireflies]

Middle-Class Seats, First-Class Fun pt. 2*

Summary: The sequel to Middle-Class Seats, First-Class Fun

You find yourself sat next to the Harry Styles on a plane.

And what better way to get to know each other than a quick induction into the Mile High Club?

Word Count: 2.1k

(Thank you for letting me spam you guys for one whole year🥹💞 I love you!!!!!)

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞 You are so much more important!*

“Hi, Stranger.”

Harry grins as he pulls the small door shut, secluding the two of you in the world’s smallest bathroom. “Hi.”

“Gonna be honest, I didn’t expect you to show,” you admit.

“Oh?” His arms cross as he takes a step closer, effectively closing the only gap between you. “And what about our earlier conversation suggested I wouldn’t?”

“Well, maybe the fact that you’re all talk and no game,” you retort, eyebrow raised as you look up at him. “Or the fact that you don’t seem like the quick-airplane-bathroom-fuck type.”

“I have a song about eating pussy, is that not enough?” he teases, a smirk dancing across his lips. “I feel like that should solidify my case.”

“Yeah, you’d think…but no.” Your eyes trail across his jaw, drawn to the sharp curve, intrigued by the subtle beauty. “Maybe if this were the first-class bathroom. Which would make a lot more sense for you.”

“What’s wrong with coach?”

“Nothing. When you’re poor. Which you’re not.”

“And that has to do with us fucking…how?”

You hesitate, mouth clamping shut. “I…don’t know.”

Nodding with an amused grin, he reaches out to place his hand on the small sink and lean forward, trapping you to the wall. “I think you’re nervous.”

“Well no shit, Sherlock.”

He hums, kind eyes helping to relax you. “Guess we’re both more talk than game.”

And maybe you are. Maybe this is nothing more than you calling his bluff. Or calling your own. Maybe this was you getting swept up in the idea of Harry Styles. The man, the myth, the legend. Maybe you just wanted to prove to yourself that you could.

Either way, despite the nerves, you’re oddly tantalized by the idea. Wanting to seize the moment, the opportunity that most people would kill for.

So, you surge forward, and press your lips to his.

It’s a hesitant kiss. On both ends. The first few seconds a tad awkward as you work to wrap your heads around how you got here. How you really feel about it.

And then…something changes.

He steps closer, straightening up to deepen the kiss, and you nearly wilt when his large hand slips around the back of your neck to keep you against him.

Things suddenly feel effortless. Practiced yet relaxed. Mouths and tongues moving together like they were always meant to. Molding seamlessly until all of your air belongs to him.

His other hand finds a home on your hip, pushing you against the small bathroom wall while his knee takes its place between your thighs.

And when he finally pulls back to rest his forehead against yours, it feels as though everything makes sense.

“We can go back to our seats,” he whispers, giving you an out.

But you don’t want an out. 

“No,” you murmur, fingers tangling in the shirt on his chest. “No, you promised to make me scream your name. Can’t pussy out on me now.”

The smirk returns as he brushes his thumb along your cheek. “So I did. But I guess it depends on which name you call me by.”

Your breath hitches.

“You can call me Harry,” he begins softly, dipping back down to ghost his lips across yours, “or you can call me Daddy.”

And discovering that Harry Styles has a Daddy kink makes more sense than it should, and you have to grin as you press your mouth to his. 

“Okay, Daddy,” you agree, just to watch him swallow. “Then why don’t you make good on your promise to fuck me?”

You watch the most beautifully dark expression flash across his face before he’s grabbing onto your waist to spin you around.

Your cheek is pressed to the wall while those large hands that have been taunting you for the past half hour begin to tease you again. Crawling up the inside of your thigh until he can grab onto the waistband of your jeans and yank the material down your legs.

“Just so you know,” he grunts in between the rustling of his belt, “I’m normally pro-foreplay. But I figure we don’t exactly have the time right now.”

“I know,” you agree. “It’s fine.”

He reaches around your hip to slide his palm down your cunt, and you sigh when you feel him cup you in his hand. 

“What’s this?” he hums, rather sadistically as his nose brushes against your cheek. “Guess I didn’t need to work you up, anyhow. Seems you’re already dripping for me.”

Your lashes flutter as he kneads your pussy for a moment before he lets go to take hold of his cock. 

“So, what’s it gonna be, angel?” he whispers, dragging the tip through your throbbing folds just to make you whimper. “You gonna be loud for me? Or are you gonna be quiet?”

More of a rhetorical question, you figure, because the answer is given to him when he pushes in, and you moan fervently.

He chuckles from behind you before it melts into some sort of delicious grunt. “That’s it. So fucking tight, darling. Take it, just like that.”

He pulls out, giving you only a second of reprieve before pushing back in. Stretching you a little more as he drives himself deeper into your cunt.

Your lip flies between your teeth as you swallow a string of curses and whines, desperate to feel him in every way possible.

“You all right?” he calls, and you feel his fingers gently squeezing your hip for reassurance.

It makes you smile. “Yeah,” you say back, nails scratching down the wall. “Go. Keep going.”

He obliges, working himself in at a quicker pace, and you see him watching out of your peripheral.

He seems mesmerized by the way his cock disappears into you. Addicted to the sounds now beginning to echo around the small space. Mixing in beautifully with his soft pants and your anguished whimpers.

“S’a good girl,” he murmurs beneath his breath, almost as if it wasn’t meant for you. “Fucking taking me so well, look at you. Pretty pussy just stretching for me. Likes having Daddy’s cock, doesn’t she?”

And maybe you shouldn’t be surprised by the filth coming from his mouth, but you are, and it makes you clench until you’re both gasping.

“Shit, angel,” he groans, burying himself a little deeper as you keen. “Like it when I talk to you like that, hm? Not so vanilla now, yeah?”

You want to thank your lucky stars for that damn book that led you both to this moment, nodding quickly as you squirm back against him. “Yes, Daddy—”

He pushes in to the hilt, overcome by the pleasure your words provide. His chest presses to your back, and instantly, you reach over your shoulder to grab onto his curls. Needing to hold him in some way.

“Fuck,” you sigh, vision hazy as your body works to accommodate him. “Okay go. Go, Harry, go.”

He smiles at the use of his name, and it does something strange to the butterflies already fluttering in your stomach. 

“Okay,” he agrees, pulling back and readjusting his grip on your waist to keep you steady. “Be good, yeah?”

The faster pace begins. Hard thrusts that nearly knock the wind from your lungs as your body shakes with each snap of his hips into yours.

It’s oddly satiating. Perfectly full and teasingly relentless. Quick fucks aren’t normally your forte, but this? With Harry? In the world’s tiniest bathroom?

Euphoria.

“Fucking squeezing me, darling, shit,” he exhales, gripping you tight in his hand. “Pretty little pussy looks so good clenching around my cock. Like it, angel, don’t you? Like letting me fuck your sweet cunt the way you’ve been needing?”

And you don’t know how he knows you’ve been so desperate, but he does, and it makes you mewl as you drag your nails down his scalp.

“Oh, I know,” he coos but it’s dark. “Can just tell. So fucking cock drunk. Desperate for anything I’ll give you. Even let a stranger fuck you, hm? Let me take care of you the way you deserve?”

“Yes,” you breathe, mindlessly reaching back for his other hand. Once you find it, you intertwine his fingers with yours and drag his palm up toward your neck. Placing it against your throat until he seems to get the hint.

He says nothing, simply squeezes you in his grip. Until the corners of your vision get fuzzy, and the small bathroom gets smaller.

“That’s it,” he hums, almost as if luring you into the darkness. “Let go for me, baby girl. Just like that. Daddy’s got you.”

Everything is heightened. Every sense, every second. You can feel his facial hair rubbing against your cheek. Can feel the calloused tips of his fingers cementing to your exposed skin. Can taste the drink he had on your tongue.

There’s a knock on the door. A hard tap, and Harry’s pace doesn’t falter for even a moment as he calls, “Fucking occupied,” before slamming back into you.

The noise you make is loud enough to be heard by whoever was on the other side. Perhaps his intention, and it makes your pussy clench once more at the thought.

“Bet you’d look fucking perfect on your knees,” he continues, unrelenting. “With my cock down your throat. Fucking drooling for me. And you’d take me, wouldn’t you? Take my cock like a good girl. Make me proud.”

The suggestion is exciting. The image in your head of you looking up at the glorious stranger from your place on the floor. Getting to feel him on your tongue. Down your throat. Anywhere he’ll have you.

You bet he likes to see his cum painted across a partner’s skin. Likes to run his fingers through it. His tongue. Collect it and taste it before spitting it into their mouths.

Your entire body shudders from the mental picture and even if Harry doesn’t know what garnered this response, he seems pleased with it. Tugging on you tighter until you’re practically sitting on him.

You’re running out of time. Running out of willpower, and he releases your throat to find your clit. The first time he’s truly touched it, and the sensation that follows nearly kills you.

You hadn’t anticipated being so sensitive, but you are, and it’s apparent to you both from the way you jolt when he pinches you.

“Oh?” He’s chuckling again, entertained by your reaction. “S’that all it takes then? Poor little cunt just needs some extra attention?”

He presses into you and begins to rub small, hard circles along the delicate nerves. Ignoring your cries and pleas for more.

Instead, his foot kicks your legs further apart, and his mouth attaches to your neck. Nipping just below your ear as he whispers, “Bet you taste fucking divine, hm? Bet I could write a whole song about the way this pussy tastes.”

He lets go just to bring his hand to his mouth. Sucking on the soaked digits and groaning in your ear.

A shiver rolls down your spine before he drags his saliva coated fingers back to your clit. “So fucking sweet, angel. But you already knew that, didn’t you? S’why you were teasing me all fucking day. Cause you knew I’d get addicted to you.”

You’re so close to release, you can see it. Can actually see the blinding stars barreling toward you like meteors. 

“And what if I am, huh?” He goes faster. Gets sloppier. Needing to get you both there. “What if I’m fucking addicted to you now? What if I can’t go without the taste of you?”

“Have it,” you sough, rolling your hips back against his cock. “Have me, Harry, please—”

“I will,” he growls, and you feel his cock twitch the closer he gets. “Fucking will, angel. Need you to come for me, yeah? Come for Daddy. Let me feel you around me, darling. Right fucking now—”

Everything is a blur. Maybe he comes first, maybe you do. It all melds together until it’s one, long string of orgasms and pleasure. 

He doesn’t let you go for quite some time. Pushing you to the very brink, making sure it goes as far as it can. Even after you’ve come down and are squirming away from the ministrations to your clit.

The sadistic need to make sure you’re ruined is evident, and he only stops when you begin to collapse in his hold.

“Okay, easy, angel, easy,” he whispers, grasping onto your hips to keep you upright. “You’re all right, yeah? You okay?”

You nod weakly as you catch your breath, and he takes this as a good sign. Allowing you to stand on your own when you’re ready.

But he doesn’t go far. He bends down and pulls your jeans back up. Makes sure you’re all right.

You notice he purposefully leaves the mess between your thighs, and when you shoot him a questioning eyebrow, his only response is, “For later.”

Which you don’t mind at all. 

I KNOW, I KNOW IT'S BEEN FOREVER!!!! I'M SO SORRY BUT THANK YOU FOR STICKING WITH ME AND BEING SO NICE, ILY ALL 😭💞💞💞

Previous Part:

~ Middle-Class Seats, First-Class Fun

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282

I'm also tagging you guys from the first part just in case, but if you've already moved on, I can absolutely understand 😭💞: @blackbookwhore @nellylayhoohoo @22fallenangel22 @watercolorskyy @ilovedilfs32 @nicodoesntexist @lelenikki @happypoptart

[mrsaltieri-real]

Like a Virgin pt3 (Virgin!Ethan Landry x Fem!AFAB!Reader)

Warnings/s: 18+, smut, p in v, langauge, riding, first time, degradation, established degradation kink, premature ejaculation, praise kink, oral, (fem receiving) squirting, face fucking, (Ethan’s a needy, greedy little fucker whose found a love in eating pussy)dom!reader, basically pure filth, brief mention of Richie’s death and his father snapping, etc

Length: 2.5k

Here’s the third and final part of this little series. I had a lot of fun writing this part. A. Lot. Probably the smuttiest thing I’ve ever fucking wrote and I had a lot of fun with it. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thank you again for this request, anon!

Read part 1 HERE

Read part 2 HERE

Ethan couldn’t believe this was really happening. The last few years of his life were filled with nothing but pain and carnage. The grieving of his brother, his father snapping after the fact…

He knew why he was here, in the apartment you shared with Tara, Sam and unbeknownst to them, his sister. But in this moment, gazing up at your gorgeous face in awe as you gently rolled your hips across his slowly swelling cock, the feeling of your soft hands resting on his shoulders with your fingernails lightly digging into his creamy skin, all of that abandoned his mind completely. He just wanted to focus on you.

He felt anxious as he lifted his trembling hands to hesitantly rest them on your hips, feeling the tight arousal begin to slowly build up inside of him for the second time tonight. A small part of his brain was surprised that he was able to get hard again as his cock began to swell. Maybe you just had this kind of effect on him.

He’d wanted you for as long as he’d known you, craved you even. He’d been completely oblivious to the lingering looks and lustful gazes you had in turn been sending his way these last couple of weeks, although you had of course noticed his. Ethan was a lot of things but subtle was absolutely not one of them.

The feeling of your increasingly wet pussy sliding over him was already becoming almost too much for him to handle. You watched as his expression turned into one of pure concentration as his blunt fingernails dug into the soft skin of your hips and you let out a small laugh.

“You can’t cum just yet, you know? I’m not even fucking you.”

“I know.” He huffed a little, his voice strained. “It just feels really good.”

You smiled down at him, one hand moving from his chest as you lifted your hips, reaching between the two of you to grasp his cock in your hand, slowly guiding it to the entrance of your soaked hole. He let out a small whimper as he felt his tip gently rest just inside of you and your hand moved back to his chest, still hovering just above him.

“You ready?” You asked softly.

He wanted to move so badly, feel you envelop him entirely, squeezing and milking him. He had to stop himself, a sheen of sweat from the unbridled concentration beginning to form on his forehead and chest.

“Yes! Yes, just… please?” He spoke softly, utterly beautiful and almost already a complete mess.

“Please what?”

“Please take me.” He blurted out, unable to disguise his desperate need “Please take me.”

For some reason, him saying this made you let out a small groan, looking down at him with a deep want as you slowly, deliberately rolled your hips, sighing at the satisfying stretch as he slowly began to fill you. You watched his face all the while, his eyes fluttering and starting to roll back as his hands gripped your hips even tighter.

You are a dominating person, especially when it comes to sex. But this was Ethan’s first time and honestly, you didn’t want to overwhelm him. Not just yet, anyway. As you adjusted to him, you rocked your hips, sinking down onto him completely and making him let out a small, surprised gasp in the process as he felt your heat completely cover him

“Fuck,” you moaned gently, leaning back on top of him so he could see his cock buried inside of you.

Ethan’s eyes were now set on the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen; him completely engulfed by you. He stared, mouth slack as you began to grind and roll your hips, watching as his dick slid inside of your cunt with hungry eyes. “How’s it- fuck. How’s it feel?“ you asked, looking down at him with a small smirk.

“Oh- oh my god.” He was so sweetly hypnotised at the sight before him, feeling every part of your hot, wet cunt with his dick. It was almost too much.

“Look at me.” You demanded, leaning forward again to grip his hair between your fingers so he was forced to look at your face. As you did so, he felt your hard nipples graze over his and he shivered a little. “Tell me how it feels.”

“I- I can’t explain.” He gasped quickly, tensing up as he felt you very deliberately squeeze around him.

“Be a good boy and try. You’re my good boy, aren’t you Ethan?” Your face was inches away from his, one hand still gripping his hair and the other slowly moved between you and started circling your clit gently, applying the pressure that would make you squeeze him in just the way you knew he’d love. He let out a loud whimper at your praise and the tight, warm feeling, brown eyes huge and desperate.

“Yes, yes I’m your good boy, I promise.” He whispered shakily.

“Then tell me-“ another sharp grind of your ass made him almost begin to sob there and then. “- how it fucking feels.”

“Feels fucking amazing. You’re so tight. Squeezing me. I can’t- fuck-“ his voice was shaking and trailed off and you watched as his eyes screwed up and his hips thrust up into you, making you gasp and let out a surprised moan as he brushed that little spot deep inside of you with his tip. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have moved, I’m sorry, I just- god, I just-“ he began apologising, fast and rambling with his voice rising and falling with every collapse of your hips as he opened his eyes and tears from the stimulation began to spill down his cheeks. You let out a breathless laugh, moving to place your hand over his mouth.

“It’s okay, baby. You want me to stop?“

His voice was loud but muffled as he practically yelled, “No, no, please no!” from behind your hand, his desperation for you only turning you on even more.

“Look at you.” You almost scoffed a little, moving your hands from his mouth to wipe the pathetic tears that stained his cheeks. “You’re fucking crying? So needy, so pathetic.” You laughed down at him, sighing as your head fell back whilst you continued to bounce on top of him, clenching and unclenching your pussy with every fall. Some part of Ethan was surprised he enjoyed you calling him pathetic, the words only making him throb inside of you desperately.

You felt him twitch, laughing to yourself breathlessly and shaking your head at him. “You’re not to fucking cum, not yet. Understand?“ the pathetic whimper that fell from him as he looked up at you pleadingly was endearing as fuck and it made the feeling of your impending orgasm loom even closer.

“Understand?” You said again, more firmly this time and he bobbed his head a little, the series of broken whimpers still falling from his plump lips. “You’re not cumming until I do.” You told him. “Now, I want you to match me, okay?” He blinked a little, streaming eyes falling down to watch how you rolled your hips and he let out a soft huff as he, much more tentatively this time, bucked his hips up as yours came down. He felt proud of the intense moans that came out of you and he continued to thrust into you, feeling himself press into something hard that resulted in you letting out a loud, almost pornograpgic groan, feeling yourself clench around him even harder, your fingers still desperately rubbing at your clit. This ended up being the result of him uncontrollably beginning to twitch inside of you.

“Oh god… oh GOD.” His head fell back into the pillow as he began to unload inside of you, a series of downright delicious whimpers and moans falling out of him as he coated your walls. He trembled as a loud sob escaped his lips at the feeling of your cunt milking him, writhing as his hips stuttered and his eyes rolled back into his head.

“Oh, I’m sorry? Did I say you could cum?” You asked him. In all honesty, you weren’t at all mad. Seeing him like this, his curls sticking to his forehead from the sweat and his face twisted and him crying in pleasure was all the satisfaction you needed.

“I’m sorry.” He said in a small, slurred voice, his chest heaving as he gradually stopped twitching and writhing from under you, his cock slowly began to soften inside of you and throbbing dully. He suddenly blinked, realising what he’d done. “Oh.. you didn’t.. oh, fuck.” He felt angry at himself for not obeying you, not making you cum with his cock, but that was somewhat filtered out by the intense pleasure he was also feeling from his first time being that damn good.

“It’s alright, honey. Next time.” You lightly patted his cheek before climbing off of him and standing up, hearing him wince as his raw cock slid out of your dripping hole.

“No, no.” You could hear the frown in his voice and you turned down to face him, seeing him practically scramble across the bed to fall to his knees in front of you.

“What are you-“

“Let me?” He asked, eyes pleading as they flickered up to your face and to your leaking cunt, marvelling as he saw his cum spilling out of you. “Please let me?”

“I don’t know..” you sighed, raising an eyebrow down at him. “You didn’t listen to me when I told you not to cum. Why should I let you do this when you clearly want it so badly?”

“Please?” He begged again, eyes incapable of looking at anything else other than your pussy. “I can apologise better this way. Let me?”

You couldn’t help but smile down at him fondly.

“So fucking desperate, aren’t you? Wanting to eat your cum out of me and get me off.” He licked his lips a little, waiting almost impatiently for you to give him the go ahead.

“Fine then, get me off.”

He didn’t need anything more. His mouth latched eagerly to your swollen clit, almost making you fall backward. You gripped his shoulder for balance as he eagerly licked and sucked at your clit, cradling it between his soft lips. “Fuck, baby.” You sighed, lifting your leg and resting it over his shoulder so you could rest your hands in his hair, pushing his face against your cunt. His hands slid up your legs to grip your ass, holding him as close to you as possible as his tongue moved from your clit to delve into your hole that was stuffed with his cum. He moaned against you, tasting the mixture of both of your arousal on his tongue as he hungrily curled his tongue inside of you, looking up at your face to ensure it was okay.

“Mmm- fuckkkkk.” You moaned out, head falling back. Now he was past the shy, awkward stage and was now intensely eager and more confident in eating you out, the feeling was almost indescribable. His tongue was soft and velvety as you rocked your hips on his face yet again, his nose softly bumping against your clit. “Fucking filthy boy.” You murmured, fingers twisting in his hair as your head fell forward to look down at him. “Eating me so good, aren’t you baby? Making me feel fucking amazing.” He huffed eagerly against your cunt at your praise, moaning loudly against you as you began to grind your hips faster. “Use your fingers and rub my clit.” You instructed, feeling the coil inside of you close to snapping.

He moved his hand from your ass to do just that, his fingers sloppily running over your swollen bundle of nerves. This tipped you over the edge, your fingers yanking at his hair as you panted and moaned, uncontrollably grinding your pussy all over his face. He tried to keep up with the movements, not wanting to miss out on even a drop of your sweet juices as you let out a sound not even you had heard before and began twitching and writhing above him. Your sudden unexpected movements startled him a little and he began to move back from your pussy, eyes almost alarmed.

“Don’t stop, don’t you fucking dare stop.” You almost shouted, grabbing the back of his head and forcing his face back to your quivering cunt. He obliged, attaching his lips to your clit once again and sucking nice and hard, humming softly against you and sending vibrations through your core.

“Oh, fuck baby, fuck yes.” You cried out, legs trembling as you not only came practically sobbing Ethan’s name as you rode and fucked his pretty face, but did something that had never happened before. You weren’t sure if it was because he was genuinely good, or the fact it was the knowledge that the guy hungrily sucking at your clit was Ethan, but something inside you snapped and you began squirting against his mouth as your whole body convulsed, a series of loud and unfiltered cries of pure ecstasy falling through your lips.

Ethan greedily lapped up your spraying juices, eyes still wide in surprise as he felt and swallowed how much came out of you.

You were shaking and still twitching as Ethan finished licking happily until you were clean and finished, smiling proudly in front of you as your leg dropped from his shoulder and you stumbled a little to sit on your bed.

“Jesus.” You sighed out, body still trembling uncontrollably.

“Are you okay?” His proud expression suddenly switched up to concern as he shuffled closer to you on his knees, resting a large hand on your shaking knee. “Oh, god did I hurt you? Was I not supposed to-“

“Shh, baby.” You said softly, smiling weakly and resting a shaky hand on his cheek. He leaned into it happily, his eyes closing at your touch. “I’m fine. I’ve just… never cum like that before.”

“Really?” He looked almost smug and you let out a small breathless laugh.

“Yeah, really. Don’t look like that.” You scolded him playfully before falling back onto your bed, trying to steady your breathing.

You felt the bed dip and then watched him as he laid down next to you, looking at your face all the while. You chuckled a little, lifting your hand to gently wipe your leftover arousal and his dried up tears from his chin and cheeks.

“Are you okay? This being your first time and all?”

“Oh, are you kidding?” The smile that broke across his face was infectious. “That was..wow. I don’t even think I can explain it.” His eyes were still huge and wild, glinting in the dim light. You rolled over so you were on your stomach, leaning over him to kiss him gently on his swollen lips. “You’re a good teacher.” He said as you pulled away a little to look at him.

“You’re a good student. Very obedient.” Your tone was approving and it made him grin happily.

“I liked doing what you told me.” He admitted almost shyly. “And I liked other stuff too.”

“What other stuff?” You pressed him, suddenly curious.

“Like when you uh…” he trailed off, shaking his head a little. “No, it doesn’t matter.”

“Come on,” you cupped his cheek in your hand, pulling his face back to look at you. “I’m not gonna judge you, what did you like?”

Ethan sighed a little. He couldn’t say no to you anymore, it just wasn’t possible.

“When you said I was… needy.” He spoke in a small hesitant voice. “… and pathetic.”

You raised your eyebrows at him a little, feeling oddly charmed by his little confession. “You liked that, hm?”

He nodded shyly, eyes still looking into yours. “More than I thought I would.”

“Well,” you said thoughtfully. “Maybe next time we can see what else you like.”

[basset-babe]

five times: the second.

pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

warnings: unsolicited sexual advances

word count: 3.7k+

a/n: apologies for the late update! i've been sleeping in so bad lately lmao also, please do know that my writing isn't abided by the series' consecutive timeline bcs i just tend take away scenes and themes through s1 to s3 where it would make sense with the fic idea in my head, but all still well within the bridgerton series (S3 SPOILER! also i do not hold any grudge towards lady tilley arnold tho she is the rendezvous love interest of ben in s3, just made sense for me to add her here in this context) but nonetheless, please enjoy the 2nd! ciao belle!

five times series: the first. the one point five. the second. the third. the three point five. the fourth. at last.

spring divider from @thyming and, again, pattern banner from @cafekitsune thank you!

second time.

As the noon sun cast a bright glow over the sprawling estate gardens, Miss Y/N and Benedict strolled along the cobblestone path lined with vibrant blossoms and verdant foliage. The sweet fragrance of blooming flowers mingled with the earthy scent of freshly turned soil, creating an intoxicating bouquet that filled the air. Birds chirped melodiously from their perches in the ancient oaks, their songs adding a gentle soundtrack to the tranquil scene.

Miss Y/N paused by a bed of delicate gardenias, her fingers brushing lightly over the soft petals as she turned to Benedict with a teasing smile. "Have you no other plans than to spend your time watching me procure my plants, Benedict?" she asked, her tone light but her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Benedict, standing a few paces away with his hands casually tucked into his pockets, returned her smile with a warm, earnest expression. "Actually, I find great pleasure in keeping you company and wandering through your beautiful gardens," he replied, his gaze taking in the lush greenery and the kaleidoscope of flowers surrounding them. In truth, his heart swelled with affection for her, every moment spent in her presence a cherished gift.

A few steps behind, the chaperone lingered near a stone bench, her attention seemingly focused on the distant horizon. Although out of earshot, her presence was a reminder of propriety and decorum.

Miss Y/N sighed softly, her playful demeanor tinged with a hint of exasperation. "We are chaperoned! I mean, probably out of earshot but still," she said, shaking her head slightly as a wry smile curved her lips. "You and your subtle art of flirting."

Benedict chuckled, the sound low and pleasant. "Ah, but where's the harm in a little harmless flirtation amidst such beauty?" he replied, gesturing to the surrounding garden. "Besides, your company is far more captivating than anything." His words carried the weight of his burgeoning love, though he struggled to fully express the depth of his feelings.

As they continued their leisurely walk, the leaves rustled softly in the gentle breeze, and the world seemed to slow, allowing them a few precious moments of stolen intimacy amidst the natural splendor.

"My subtle art of flirting," he murmured, stepping closer and carefully looming over a bed of blooming roses. "Or perhaps it’s not so subtle after all."

She glanced up at him, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "I would say it’s as subtle as a peacock in a library."

"Ah, so it’s quite effective, then," he said, leaning in just enough to catch the gardenia’s sweet scent.

"You are impossible," she said, shaking her head but unable to hide her smile. "Even when you called on me, you've brought a grafted rose to plant, of all things!" She laughed fondly.

"Well, I thought it suited you," he said as his voice softened, casting her a glance full of admiration. "A growing thing of beauty, requiring patience, care, and attention." His heart pounded in his chest, the metaphor echoing his own feelings for her.

The sun glowed warm through the greenhouse window pane. Peering from the vines, the sunlight dawned and cascaded over Y/N, rendering her breathtaking in Benedict's eyes. The golden light danced on her hair, casting a halo-like aura that made her appear almost ethereal.

Her cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink at his words. "For an artist, you do have a way with words, Benedict," she murmured, a soft smile playing at her lips as she averted her gaze.

Benedict, unable to resist the magnetic pull of the moment, reached out and gently touched a gardenia bloom, his fingers brushing against hers. The brief contact sent a subtle thrill through him, a spark of connection that felt both profound and delicate. "And I mean every one of them, you know," he said softly, his voice carrying the weight of sincerity and unspoken affection as their eyes met.

Y/N's breath caught slightly, her heart quickening in response. Her gloved hand now in his as he gently held it. The intensity of his gaze made her heart flutter, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to fade away. Her lady's maid, the estate, the very garden itself—all blurred into a distant background against the magnetic pull between them.

A gentle breeze stirred, carrying the intoxicating scent of gardenias and roses. Y/N's eyes widened slightly at the depth of emotion she saw in Benedict's eyes, a mixture of admiration and something deeper, something she dared not name yet. Her fingers, still intertwined with his, felt warm and comforting, a silent promise held in the delicate touch.

Her voice, barely above a whisper, broke the silence. "Benedict, do you ever, um, find yourself feeling, well, the same way I do in moments like these, when we're together?" Her eyes, tinged with vulnerability, flicked up to meet his, silently seeking a connection that transcended mere words.

Benedict's smile softened, his thumb lightly caressing the back of her hand as he leaned nearer to whisper, "Every moment with you, Your Grace," he said, his voice filled with a gentle ardor. "Your presence, Y/N, for if I revere you a dream, then I no longer wish to wake from my slumber."

Y/N's heart raced at his words, her cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of pink. She felt a rush of emotions, a blend of excitement and a tender vulnerability she had never experienced before. Her eyes widening in awe, "You speak as if I am something unattainable, a fragment of your mind," she said, a touch of playful skepticism in her tone.

Benedict's expression softened, nearing her as his gaze full of adoration. "Y/N," he murmured, his voice tender yet earnest, "you are not a fragment of my mind, nor are you unattainable. You are the very essence of my heart's desires, a beacon of light in a world of darkness." He reached out to gently cup her cheek, his touch conveying a depth of emotion beyond words. "To me, you are not just a dream, but the reality I never dared hope for. And I will spend every moment proving that to you, if you'll let me."

Meanwhile, the subtle clearing of her lady's maid's throat, positioned at a respectable distance, acted as a genteel nudge to observe the proprieties of their setting.

"Um, I, uh, apologize, Your Grace," Benedict murmured, his cheeks tinted with a shy flush as he took a small, hesitant step back, seemingly unsure of where to place his hands. "I… erm, it seems I, uh, forgot to, um, maintain my distance. Please forgive me," he added softly, his voice trailing off with a hint of uncertainty. "I, um, really didn't mean to, uh, make you uncomfortable." His eyes, a mix of nervousness and sincerity, briefly met hers before darting away, as if seeking refuge in the nearby foliage. "I'm, um, deeply sorry if I, you know, overstepped," he continued, his tone laced with a sheepish awkwardness as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, unable to find a comfortable stance. "I… I suppose I just, er, got a bit carried away in the moment."

Y/N's cheeks flushed deeper as she felt a rush of embarrassment mingled with amusement at Benedict's sheepish apology. She averted her gaze momentarily, suppressing a nervous giggle before meeting his eyes, she reached out to gently place a hand on his arm. "Oh, Benedict," she began, her voice soft with a hint of laughter, "there's no need to apologize. I… I must admit, I too got carried away in the moment." She glanced around, half-panicked that someone might have witnessed their closeness, but finding the situation more humorous than anything. "It seems we both found ourselves swept up in the enchantment of the garden," she added with a playful wink, her laughter bubbling forth despite her attempts to compose herself.

Benedict let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing as he returned to a more respectable distance from Y/N. He couldn't help but smile at her laughter, finding solace in her lighthearted response. "Indeed, it appears the garden has a way of enchanting us both," he agreed with a soft chuckle, his gaze lingering on her with fondness. "I guess we ought to keep a closer eye on decorum," he mused with a rueful grin, a playful glint dancing in his eyes.

Benedict entered his studio at the esteemed art academy with a purposeful stride, the faint aroma of charcoal and linseed oil pervading his senses as he stepped within. The grand wooden door emitted a gentle creak as he pushed it open, revealing a space that, while seemingly cluttered, held a unique order characteristic of an artist's domain. It's been days since Mr. Bridgerton had paid visit to Miss Y/N; days since his apparent confession unreturned with an answer, hoping of the most favored "yes".

The studio was suffused with the soft, diffused light of late afternoon, filtering through tall, dust-laden windows. Easels stood in solemn ranks, each bearing sketches and paintings in various stages of completion. The floor was a canvas in itself, adorned with a mosaic of paint splatters and crumpled sheets of paper, silent testament to his countless hours of diligent work.

His gaze was inexorably drawn to the central easel, where his latest sketches of Miss Y/N awaited his discerning eye. Countless hours had been devoted to capturing her likeness, her features indelibly etched into his memory and transposed onto the canvas from myriad angles. The delicate curve of her jawline, the subtle arch of her brows, the enigmatic depths of her eyes—each sketch narrated a different story, a moment either observed or conjured from his imagination.

Benedict set down his leather satchel upon a nearby stool, extracting a well-worn sketchbook and a selection of fine graphite pencils. He approached the easel with a sense of reverence, as one might approach a sanctified space. The quietude of the studio enveloped him, disrupted only by the distant murmur of the academy's other activities.

As he perched upon the high stool before the easel, he paused momentarily, allowing his thoughts to drift back to his latest sitting with Miss Y/N. He recalled the play of light upon her hair, the subtle shifts in her expression as her thoughts wandered. With a deep, steadying breath, he took up a pencil, its familiar weight a comfort in his hand, and resumed his sketching. He became immersed once more in the intricate dance of lines and shadows, bringing her presence to vivid life upon the paper.

As he worked, Benedict would lose himself in the intricacies of her likeness, his mind consumed by the challenge of translating her beauty onto paper. Every stroke of his pencil would be deliberate, every line a reflection of his perception of her essence.

In this intimate space, surrounded by the tangible evidence of his devotion, Benedict would pour his heart and soul into each etch, striving to capture the true spirit of Miss Y/N with every stroke of his pencil.

"Someone seems smitten, don't you think, brother?" Anthony's teasing voice broke through Benedict's intent stare as he drew, jolting him out of his reverie. A faint blush tinged Benedict's cheeks as he glanced up, his hand pausing mid-stroke.

Benedict's older brother stood in the doorway, a playful smirk playing on his lips as he observed the tableau before him. Benedict chuckled softly, the sound carrying a hint of embarrassment. "I'm merely capturing her likeness as an artist," he protested, though the affection in his gaze betrayed his true feelings.

Anthony's grin widened, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Of course, dear brother," he replied, his tone dripping with amusement. "But one might argue that your portraits of Miss Y/N are a tad... shall we say, inspired?"

Benedict rolled his eyes good-naturedly, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Perhaps," he conceded, returning his attention to the paper before him. "But can you blame me? She's quite the muse."

With a knowing laugh, Anthony stepped further into the studio, his presence injecting a sense of levity into the room. "Indeed she is," he agreed, his gaze drifting to the scattered sketches of Miss Y/N that adorned the walls. "But do try not to get too lost in your musings, brother. The real Miss Y/N might start to wonder what's keeping you so occupied."

Benedict nodded, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Point taken," he said, his focus returning to his work. But as he etched his pencil into the paper once more, his thoughts inevitably drifted back to the enigmatic woman who had captured his imagination—and his heart.

"Oh, and a letter arrived. It's for you," Anthony handed as sealed letter, "from a Lady Tilley Arnold. Seems urgent." Benedict stopped as he looked at his older brother whose held a knowing look. "I am not one to pry for I am one with your contentment, brother, but it seems you have unfinished business?"

"It is not what you are implying, brother. We are done. Lady Arnold had bid me done then. It is probably purely audience." Benedict replied focusing back to his work.

"Then I shall leave you to it, brother." Anthony left the letter on the stool and stepped out the studio closing the door, leaving his brother with his thoughts.

After his brother's departure, Benedict found himself unable to shake the lingering thoughts about why Lady Arnold had sought his audience. Their relationship had long evolved beyond the realms of a passionate love affair, and any such intimacies had faded into the past. Instead, he now saw himself as a respectable bachelor, poised to fulfill his societal obligations and perhaps find a suitable wife.

Despite this unexpected shift in their dynamics, the unexpected summons from Lady Arnold had stirred a curious blend of nostalgia and apprehension within him, prompting him to ponder the nature of their current connection.

As Benedict retired to his townhouse for the evening, his mind buzzed with conflicting thoughts about the impending meeting with Lady Arnold. While he harbored no romantic, nor amorous, feelings for her, the prospect of their encounter tomorrow left him feeling decidedly uneasy. After all, he had been actively courting Miss Y/N, and the mere notion of being seen with Lady Arnold had the potential to ignite scandalous gossip.

But then a knock sounded. In the dimly lit parlor of Benedict's townhouse, a cloaked woman stood before him, an air of melancholy clinging to the elegant form. "Lady Arnold, good evening! Do come in." He moved aside as the women entered. "To what do I owe--" He was cut off as Lady Tilley spoke, her expression tinged with a mix of determination and vulnerability. "Benedict, I sought you out because I'm leaving London soon. I wanted to bid you farewell before I go."

Benedict nodded politely, though a flicker of curiosity danced in his eyes. "Of course, Lady Arnold. It's kind of you to say goodbye."

But as their conversation unfolded, Benedict couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Lady Arnold's visit than a simple farewell. Her demeanor seemed to betray an underlying tension, a sense of urgency that belied the pleasantries of their exchange.

"Lady Arnold," Benedict began, his voice laced with a hint of concern, "is everything alright? You seem... troubled."

Lady Arnold hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering uncertainly before she squared her shoulders, as if steeling herself for what was to come. "Benedict, there's something I need to tell you," she confessed, her tone serious. "Something I've been meaning to say for quite some time." Taking a deep breath, she forged ahead, her words measured yet tinged with emotion. "I... I've realized that I can't bear the thought of leaving without expressing how I truly feel."

Benedict's eyes widened in surprise, his mind racing to comprehend the implications of her confession. "How you feel?" he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lady Arnold nodded, her gaze unwavering as she held his gaze. "Yes, Benedict. I know the risks of me being seen here in your residence but it seems that you have not responded to my correspondence... I have come here to say that I've been thinking about us, about our past, and... I can't deny that I still feel something between us."

Benedict's mind flew to the letter he placed on his desk earlier the night he reached his townhouse. He didn't even want to open it knowing what it could contain. A rakish past he, quite possibly, no longer wants to open. Benedict, then, felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him, memories of their shared history flooding back with startling clarity. Yet, beneath the surface, a sense of unease gnawed at him, a silent reminder of the boundaries he had vowed to uphold.

"Tilley," he began tentatively, his words hesitant as he struggled to find the right response. "I… I'm not sure what you mean. Our past is just that, the past."

But Lady Arnold was undeterred, her resolve unwavering as she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "But what if it doesn't have to be? What if we could recapture the passion we once shared?"

Benedict's heart quickened at her words, torn between the allure of nostalgia and the reality of his present circumstances. "I... I don't know, Tilley," he admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "Things have changed. I've changed."

Undeterred, Lady Arnold reached out to touch his hand, her touch soft and pleading. "Benedict, please. Don't you remember how good it used to be? Just one last time, before I leave."

Benedict felt a surge of conflicting emotions welling up inside him, his mind spinning with indecision. "I… I can't," he finally answered removing his hand from hers, his voice heavy with his conscience. "It wouldn't be right, just like you decided."

Lady Arnold's eyes gleamed with a mixture of longing and sorrow as she looked at Benedict. "Do you remember, Benedict," she began, her voice soft yet laden with emotion, "those nights we shared? How the world seemed to disappear when we were together? Every stolen moment, every secret touch… it was as if time stood still just for us." She took a step closer, her gaze never wavering. "The way we used to laugh, our whispers filling the darkness with promises only we understood. We explored each other's souls and bodies with such intensity, such reckless abandon. Every touch was a symphony, every kiss a sonnet. Our passion burned so bright, like a flame that could never be extinguished."

Her voice faltered slightly, a wistful smile playing on her lips. "We were invincible then, weren’t we? Bound by nothing but our own desires. It was a love that consumed us, left us breathless and wanting more. Even now, I can feel the echoes of those nights, the way your touch could ignite something deep within me, a fire that no one else could ever hope to spark."

She spoke of memories shared, of passion ignited long ago, and hinted at desires yet unfulfilled. Despite his best efforts to maintain composure, Benedict found himself ensnared by her magnetic presence, a faint echo of their past intimacy stirring within him as she caressed his jaw.

As the tension between them reached its zenith, Lady Arnold's advances became bolder, her fingers trailing lightly along the curve of Benedict's jawline as she leaned in for a kiss. For a fleeting moment, their lips met in a passionate embrace, igniting a spark of longing that threatened to engulf them both.

But as quickly as it began, Benedict pulled away, a confused expression clouding his features. "I am afraid it has ended," he murmured, his voice thick with regret. "This... it no longer feels right." His words hung heavy in the air.

Lady Arnold's expression softened, a hint of sadness clouding her eyes. "I know things have changed, Benedict. We have changed. But those memories... they still linger. A testament to what we once shared, a rendezvous that defied everything and everyone."

She reached out, her fingers grazing his hand. "Tell me you remember, Benedict. Tell me that those moments meant as much to you as they did to me."

Benedict felt a lump form in his throat as Lady Arnold's words washed over him. Her memories mirrored his own, a testament to the bond they had once shared. He swallowed hard, trying to find the right words to respond.

"Of course I remember," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "Those moments were among the most exhilarating experiences of my life. We had an affair, some rendezvous that was."

Lady Arnold's eyes softened at his confession, a flicker of hope igniting within them. "Then why can't we have it again, Benedict? Just one last time, before I leave. Let me carry that memory with me."

Benedict sighed, "Because things are different now," he said gently. "Our lives have moved on. What we had was rousing, but it's part of a past that no longer exists."

Lady Arnold's expression crumpled slightly, her hope waning. "But why?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "Why can't we hold onto it, just for a little while longer?"

Benedict took her hand in his, his touch both firm and tender. "Because it wouldn't be fair to either of us," he replied softly. "I can't give you whatever temporary high you want, not when my heart belongs to someone else now. It would be a lie, a betrayal of what we both deserve."

Tears shimmered in Lady Arnold's eyes as she listened to his words. "I understand," she said finally, her voice barely audible. "I just... I had to try."

Benedict squeezed her hand gently before letting go. "I know," he said. "And I'm grateful for what we shared, Tilley, truly. But we both need to move forward, to find happiness in the lives we've chosen. You know it, this cannot be."

Lady Arnold nodded, her shoulders sagging with resignation. "I suppose this is goodbye then," she murmured, a wistful smile tugging at her lips.

"Yes," Benedict agreed, his voice tender. "Goodbye, Lady Arnold. I wish you all the best."

With a final, lingering glance, Lady Arnold turned and walked away, leaving Benedict standing alone in the dimly lit parlor. As the door closed behind her, he felt a profound sense of closure, mingled with the bittersweet pang of lost love. He knew he had made the right decision, but the echoes of their past would remain with him, a poignant reminder of a passion that had once burned so brightly.

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[hederasgarden]

Sins of the Father - Part 2

Summary: When the Greens win the Dance of the Dragons, your father must answer for his support of Rhaenyra. (AU) Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Lady!Reader (house unspecified) W/C: 1.3K Rating: Mature, 18+ only. AU, forced/arranged marriage and reference to canon level violence. Future chapters will be explicit.  A/N: Thank you to @mythic-rose for beta’ing! The fantastically talented @writercole created the beautiful graphic! 

Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day. 

Part 1 | House of the Dragon Masterlist

After your audience with the Alicent, you and your father are escorted to accommodations in Maegor's holdfast. Both rooms are opulent and luxurious, befitting of your station but you see them for what they truly are. A gilded cage that will be your home for the next two months until you’re wed to Prince Aemond. 

Once the guards leave, your father speaks, his hushed voice vibrating with anger. “I never should have brought you here. When they asked for me to bring my heir I did not ever consider…”

“You could not have known they wanted more than your coin,” you assure, reaching for him. “We knew there would be a cost to pay for supporting Rhaenyra. My brother paid with his life. Marriage pales in comparison. The rest of the family will be safe.”

“Aemond is a monster. At best a Kinslayer,” he hisses. You raise your hands to quiet him, aware of the two guards outside the door. 

“Father, please….”

He deflates at your words. “I wanted better for you. A gentle, honorable husband to protect and care for you as you deserve.”

He pulls you into his chest to press a kiss to your brow. A strong wave of emotion climbs up your throat  Even as your eyes sting, you force your tears not to fall. Grief has made your father wild and you worry what he might do if you showed him the depths of your fear.  All you can do is wrap your arms around his middle, taking comfort in his familiarity. Soon he will be gone and you will be alone in a den of dragons. 

“It is done,” you say finally, covertly swiping at the dampness on your lashes when you pull away. You clear your throat and steady your voice. “I will write a letter to mother and my sisters for you to bring home. Yo wi’ll need a list of my personal effects to bring back too.”

“Even now, you are thinking ahead,” he says, cupping your face. He carries so much love in his expression it hurts. “Any future correspondence will be monitored.” 

“It will. I think we should prepare for the chance…” you begin, only to trail off when you hear the doors open.

Otto Hightower sweeps, the golden highlights woven into his green robes catching in the candlelight. Behind him trails Prince Aemond like a dark shadow. He stops at the threshold of your room, hands clasped behind his back. 

“Pardon our interruption,” the Hand begins with that same false smile Alicent wore earlier. “Prince Aemond has kindly offered to show you the Red Keep while I speak with your father.“

“That is kind of him,” you acknowledge. 

“If there are important matters to discuss, my daughter should be present,” your father says.

“Oh, it is only the matter of the dowry and a few other issues she need not concern herself with,” he tells your father with a dismissive wave.

“I am my father’s heir.” Otto shifts his attention to you with a raised brow and you know then that you’ve spoken too harshly. “It is only that I wish to ensure everything with the betrothal goes smoothly,” you add hurriedly with a demure smile. 

“Such dedication,” the Hand praises. “Dutiful daughters make for obedient wives,” he notes, looking meaningfully at you.  

There is no mistaking the subtle message underneath the compliment he gives you. A reminder of your place.

“You are kind to say, Lord Hand.” 

You drop your gaze and wait until your father touches your shoulder. When you look up through your lashes, you’re surprised to see Aemond mere inches from you. 

He offers you his hand, palm rough against your soft skin. As you walk, Aemond guides your hand to rest on his bicep and pulls you closer to his body. You glance back behind, relieved to see an older Septa fall in step behind you at a respectable distance. Aemond follows your gaze with a smirk that you suspect might be part of his natural expression. 

"Tell me," he begins as you walk together, "do you agree with my grandsire's assessment that a wife should be dutiful and obedient?" 

The directness of his question surprises you. 

“The seven teach us there are many virtues a good wife should possess,” you respond carefully, glancing up at him to gauge his reaction to your words. You’re unsurprised to find him watching you closely. It’s unnerving to be the sole focus of his sharp attention. “I think the more important question is what virtues do you desire in a wife, Prince Aemond?”

“Obedience is a desired attribute in hounds, not a wife," he reveals. "I am more interested in loyalty.”

Fear coils in your belly in response to his words, a cold knot that tightens with every step you take beside him. Loyalty was a demand that cut deeper than obedience, especially with your own family’s fidelity in question. 

“It is an admirable trait,” you agree, choosing your words with care. Your father’s gold could only ease so much doubt. They would always remember that your family chose Rhaenyra over them. No pretty words you might spin for Aemond would change that. 

“I have heard dragons are loyal creatures,” you add, hoping to direct his attention to a less volatile topic. “They say you ride the largest one that ever lived.”

“Her name is Vhagar.” 

“A dragon worthy of a prince,” you reply. That comment earns you a quick look you can’t quite decipher. Then Aemond hmms, returning his attention ahead. “Where are we headed?”

“The gardens. My sister is fond of them. Or perhaps we can see the new tapestries my mother had made in Essos.”

“Oh,” you reply, quick to hide your disappointment. You suspected most women would have found a stroll through the beautiful flowers with a Prince romantic, but there were other parts of the keep you were keen to explore.“I have heard the gardens of the keep are unmatched, even compared to the Reach.”

A hint of your true feeling must show because Aemond looks curiously at you. “You wish to see something else?"

“No, my prince,” you murmur, gaze downcast. “The gardens sound lovely.” 

Aemond stops abruptly, stepping in front of you.

“Do not lie,” he hisses, grasping your chin and forcing you to meet his gaze. His long fingers span the length of your jaw and an anxious sort of energy skitters down your spine at the look on his face. “You may spin pretty words to tell others what they want to hear, but never me.” 

You search frantically for the right words to appease him or redirect his attention. In your experience, men wanted you to be agreeable, deferring to their desires and whims. “Forgive me your grace,” you stutter. “I promise to be forthright in the future when asked for my opinion.”

He watches for one long, agonizing moment, his one-eyed gaze searching for something beneath the surface. It isn’t until the Septa behind you coughs politely that Aemond’s attention leaves you. The look he offers her is less-than-kind.

“Now,” he says softly, his focus once more on you, “what do you wish to see?”

There is nothing to give him but the truth. “The library.”

If Aemond is curious about your choice he does not show it. He offers you a curt, “very well,” and guides you back to his side with a hand on your wrist.

You continue on in silence as the stone walls adorned with tapestries and flickering torchlight give way to a large, open courtyard. It’s busier in this part of the keep, servants and nobles alike stopping as you pass to bow or curtsy. Aemond pays them little mind, but you can’t look away, all too aware that they will bow to you as well once you become a princess of the realm. 

The weight of that expectation settles on your shoulders like a heavy yoke and with each step forward you find yourself more and more uncertain of how the future will look beside Aemond. 

♡

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[cuubism]

I've been sitting on this little happy ficlet for absolute ages because there was a time I thought I might incorporate it into another fic. That seems increasingly unlikely though, so here it is.

--

The Dreaming was beautiful when Dream was happy.

It wasn’t always beautiful, though Hob would never say those words to Dream. It was always magnificent, always awesome in the old sense of something grand and beyond understanding. It was terrifying sometimes, too. But in Hob’s opinion, the Dreaming was really only beautiful when Dream was happy.

Like now.

Lying on his back in the wildflowers, bare arms thrown back above his head, dressed down in a black t-shirt and long flowy skirt, feet bare. Happy crinkles at the corners of his closed eyes, the barest hint of a smile that might have been bright as the sunrise for how it looked on Dream’s usually subtle face. The bumblebees and dragonflies that kept landing gently on him and brushing off again in cheerful spirals, as if delighted by their creator’s presence.

Hob had never been to this part of the Dreaming before, which, admittedly, wasn’t saying much when the Dreaming was effectively infinite. Dream had brought them to an expansive field of yellow grasses and rowdy wildflowers of green and teal and mauve and a hundred other colors one would never see in the waking world. It wasn’t Fiddler’s Green; it was wilder than that: rock bluffs dotting the fields in the distance, an endless grey-blue sky that was clear for now but threatened to tip towards rain at any moment, sweet warm wind that tugged on Hob’s hair with grabbing hands. A fierce, untamed landscape holding itself gently, for now.

That was the way Dream was beautiful, Hob thought.

He leaned on his elbow, looking down at Dream’s peaceful expression where he lay beside him. As he watched, an iridescent wasp lit upon Dream’s nose, its six sharp legs stark against his pale skin. Hob moved instinctively to scare it off, before remembering that this was the Dreaming, and stilling his hand.

The wasp didn’t try to sting Dream, of course it didn’t. This dream space lived on the border of danger, but wherever it touched Dream, it turned soft, indulgent, adoring.

Dream opened his eyes to look at the wasp. He didn’t say anything to it, at least not in any way that Hob could understand, but he stroked a very light finger along one filigree wing, and it flitted off again, away back to its hauntings.

In its absence, Hob traced a fingertip down Dream’s profile, in much the same way he had touched the wasp. Dream’s eyes fluttered shut again at the touch.

“They all love you,” Hob said.

Dream hummed. “I feel a particular accord with this landscape,” he said, a ghost of a smile on his lips at Hob’s words.

“Yeah, it reminds me of you. More than the Dreaming as a whole usually does.”

“Oh?”

Hob sat upright and tugged Dream up with him, brushing strands of grass from Dream’s hair. Then he kissed him softly on the lips and said, “Constantly on the verge of thundering.”

Dream grumbled under his breath, something about making it rain in Hob’s flat later. Hob just kissed him again, this time on the cheek, saying, “That wouldn’t be the most fun way to end a date, darling.”

“I suppose not.” Dream leaned back to meet Hob’s eyes, his expression now glinting with mischief. “I did have other plans. But if you insist on thundering.”

He blinked, and the sky split open with a tremendous crash, rainwater pouring down in a torrent that soaked them both immediately to the bone. Hob noted with amusement that Dream was letting himself get wet, too. His shirt was sticking to his narrow frame, skirt clinging to each bend of his legs. And his normally fluffy hair was unmentionable.

Hob grinned widely at him, water streaming over his nose and lips, dripping into his eyes. “The things you will do just to have your way.”

Dream’s eyes narrowed in challenge. “Must I have you struck by lightning, as well?”

“C’mere, you.” Hob dragged him into a hug, wet and sticky and clinging, as the rain kept pounding down and sinking into the grass around them. Flowers were nodding under the weight of the droplets, and the corners of the sky had gone dark and grey — but Dream was happy, was the thing. Hob could tell by the way he let Hob manhandle him into the hug, pressed the side of his face against Hob’s, the twitch of a smile on his lips that Hob could feel against his cheek. Storms in the Dreaming were so often indicative of Dream’s sadness or rage, and it was thrilling to be caught up in one that was born of playfulness instead.

The rain was even warm.

“You’re so beautiful,” Hob told him.

“Everything you say is at random,” Dream complained, somewhat hollowly considering he still had his fingers clutched in Hob’s dripping shirt.

“Nah. You just don’t understand the incredibly complex workings of my mind.”

He could sense Dream’s eye roll without having to see it.

“Isn’t it simple enough to just know that I always think you’re beautiful?” he asked, quieter now and almost hushed out by the rain. “It’s like the sky. It’s really always beautiful, but sometimes you catch it at a certain angle and you think, oh.”

“I am, in fact, also the sky in the Dreaming,” Dream said — just to be ornery, Hob thought. But then he said, softer, “You have a gentle perspective of me.”

It was true, Hob thought, that most might not look at this tempestuous landscape with generosity, might not be so easygoing about its overbearing rain. But Hob saw Dream smile and all he wanted was to tip his face up into the storm.

He ran his hands through Dream’s sopping hair. “You can count on that.”

[lexsssu]

Inhuman (Adrian Tepes | Alucard)

TAGS: Alucard/Dragoness!reader, alternate universe, pining, sex pollen, morning after, breeding, impregnation, smut, oneshot Ao3 ver. | Ko-fi | Commissions (OPEN)

Darkness is something many feared for it brought about horrors both real and imaginary to life. The cover of night hid that which screeched at the light of day and yet there is a certain stillness and calm found in the dark.

Adrian never felt that the dark was something to be afraid of, but rather a hidden peace and tranquility when one decides to walk about during the twilight hours.

All is still until a flash of bright light illuminated the landscape, revealing everything which once hid within the blanket of night for barely a second before gradually fading away.

Normally, the dhampir would have chalked it up as yet another one of nature’s great mysteries before trying to see for himself what caused it. Blame his loving parents who naturally nurtured his inquisitive nature.

However, before he could even step another foot forward he saw something falling from the sky and as it got closer to the ground, his eyes perceived an unmistakably human form.

He didn’t need to think for another second as his body rocketed upwards in a great leap, lean yet toned arms grasping the surprisingly soft and tiny figure. As the air whipped around him during his descent, he took his first good look as to who or what he decided to save in the first place.

The blonde’s eyes widened, breath hitching in his throat as he beheld what could only be an angel, a being of pure light within his embrace.

Your silken ivory hair crowns your head and drapes over your heart-shaped face gracefully, petal-like lips which gleamed with a soft pink sheen, eyelashes like lush crescents that seem to teasingly hide what he could only imagine to be the most beautiful jeweled orbs in the world, and a spattering of silvery-white scales that travel from said cheeks down to your neck and the rest of your body hidden beneath your bodice.

You are clearly inhuman.

And yet, never has Adrian felt more human than he did right now especially as your eyes flutter open and meet with his own mesmerized pair.

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

“...make sure to grind them thoroughly, my dear. They have to be a fine paste before we can proceed with the next step”

“Okay, Miss Lisa. I’ll do my best!”

“Feel free to just call me mother. I’ve seen you as a daughter from the moment my son brought you into our home and since my husband hasn’t given me any daughters...you’re the next best thing and I honestly couldn’t be any more grateful for your arrival in our lives.”

Hidden behind a tall shelf lined with various tomes and scrolls, the young man couldn’t help but take peeks at the two most important women in his life as they bonded with one another. His mother so easily took you under her wing when he brought you here and you weren’t averse to the motherly affections she directed at you.

Now if he could only be as forthright with his feelings as his mother and express himself to you, because you were clearly as dense as a rock and didn’t pick up any of the subtle hints he gave you about his intentions...

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

“If you’re really okay with someone like me...then please use me as much as you like,” with a red blush highlighting your soft cheeks, you try not to look at the flushed and heavily panting Adrian pinning you down upon his bed.

The dhampir had accidentally inhaled the pollen of some new plant you both came across while partaking in your regular walks together. It took effect immediately, the normally calm and composed blonde becoming so flustered and heated that you’d think he was running a fever with how much sweat dripped down his face.

The raging erection which tented at the front of his trousers told you everything you needed to know, however.

Even if it was only to help him, you don’t regret giving yourself to Adrian because you love him. Even after the effects wear off, you hope that you’ll still stay friends because you’ve grown to love this castle and all its wonders. But especially its inhabitants—

“While I would have preferred to put a ring on you first, I’m afraid that I’m at my limit...but I promise to properly wed you after this, my love.”

The night is a blur by the time you wake up the morning after. Hazy memories of soft and firm touches, wet and deep kisses, harsh grunts and pitiful mewls, and nails scratching against the skin of his toned back as your tight cunt is forced open by his lengthy cock. You don’t remember how many rounds you went last night, having lost count of the amount of times you felt him spraying his seed deep inside of you and how you oh so shamelessly tightened even further each time he painted your walls white.

“We must inform mother and father once they return from their little trip. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled at the news of our union...though perhaps I might be scolded for taking you to bed before the actual wedding…” Adrian chuckled, messy strands of blonde hair tumbling down his chest as he gazed down at you with his head propped up by his hand, all the while you seemed to have been using his chest as a pillow the whole time you were sleeping.

“A-Adrian…!” You squeak and sputter at his joke, blushing all the way to the tips of your ears which only seems to ignite the flames within the dhampir once more as he rolls himself on top of you.

“If you truly insist on seducing me yet again...I suppose it is simply a husband’s duty to satisfy his wife”

[weirdkpopgirl]

Back Scratches pt. 2 | Dream Headcanon #14

Headcanon: Back Scratches

Genre: Fluff, slight angst in some of them

Warnings: might be mildly suggestive in Mark's and Haechan's? mention of anxiety in Jisung's

Word Count: ~2.4k

Author's Note: Okay, I know I've already written something about this which was actually the first headcanon I wrote for 7Dream on here. It was also one of the firsts requests I received. But I wanted to write an improved version of it, and I really do find the idea cute. So I hope you guys enjoy this and thank you for reading ^ ^

~ ~ ~

mark 

Back scratches with Mark were initially quite amusing, mainly because he’s not used to asking for help. The first time you noticed his struggle was when you glanced up from your book after hearing his grunts of frustration as he tried in vain to reach the middle of his back. His eyes met yours, and he laughed awkwardly. You then stood up from your couch to approach him from behind and scratch the exact spot he needed without saying a word. After that, Mark realized it was silly to be embarrassed about asking when you clearly didn’t mind.

From there, Mark grew to love having you scratch his back. Not just when he had an itch, but also after a long day of work. The feeling of your perfectly manicured nails running along his back, above the fabric of his shirt, really helped him unwind after hours of dance practice and recording sessions. When it came to these moments, you’d start with light, gentle strokes where your nails would barely graze his skin, sending a shiver down his spine. Gradually, you’d increase the pressure and use slow deliberate motions to trace soothing patterns across his back. You always paid more attention to the areas around his shoulder blades and the small of his back, knowing that was where the tension often built up the most.

Mark would close his eyes and lean into your touch, unable to stifle a groan as your fingertips moved in circular motions, working out the knots and easing his muscles. At first, the sounds Mark made during these back scratch sessions left you blushing, though he was completely oblivious to the effect he had on you. However, you soon became accustomed to the dramatic moans that came from your boyfriend regularly. Though you often rolled your eyes when he gave such reactions, you could never bring yourself to tease him. 

More often than not, Mark would talk to you as you scratched his back. And you’d listen quietly as he spoke about whatever was weighing on his mind. A smile was always brought to your lips when you’d hear his muffled voice due to his face being squished against the pillows. You often worried about him being such a workaholic, so you were especially happy that you could help him relax. For Mark, just you being with him meant so much more than you knew.

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renjun 

Back scratches with Renjun always leave you gushing about how adorable he is. He comes across as the type who prefers to handle things on his own. So if his back ever got itchy, he’d try to take care of it himself, even if you were in the same room. Especially if you were already doing something else, he wouldn’t want to bother you with what he perceived as a trivial matter. But similar to Mark, it was Renjun’s facial expressions of subtle frustration and determination that would often catch your attention as he struggled on his own.

However, you chose to wait until he was ready to give up and swallow his pride to ask for your assistance. The look of desperation in his eyes and the faint blush coloring his cheeks made you want to kick your feet in the air because of how cute he looked. Then when you turned him around to scratch the spot for him, he let out a huge, relieved sigh. The way he tilted his head back nearly made your heart burst with affection.

It was at that moment that Renjun discovered just how much he loved your touch. He would describe your back scratches as uniquely soothing, as the intricate patterns you traced along his spine made him shiver but also caused his shoulders to sink in relaxation. He’d marvel at how your touch seemed to melt away the stress of the day, bringing him this sense of tranquility. Each scratch became a silent conversation, a language of comfort and care that only you two shared.

So, he began to ask you to scratch his back more often. Not just because it relieved him of his physical discomfort, but because it offered a moment of solace in a hectic world. But he’d always make sure to check if you weren’t busy with anything before he asked, despite knowing the answer would always be yes. Renjun would cherish every instance when your hands danced across his back, feeling his love for you deepen with each tender touch.

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jeno 

Back scratches Jeno were just another excuse for him to be clingy with you. He might be a little shy the first time you offered to do it. But as your bond deepened, your back scratches became another form of physical intimacy that he cherished. Outwardly, he’d act all cool about it like, “Oh you want to scratch my back? Go ahead, I don’t mind.” But internally he’d be overwhelmed by this warm, fuzzy sensation. Each tender stroke of your fingers against his back left him not only feeling physically comforted but emotionally connected to you in a way that words couldn’t fully express.

Eventually, Jeno would stop hiding how much he loved when you scratched his back. It doesn’t matter if he found you engrossed in a K-drama playing on the television or preparing to retire for the night, he seized every opportunity to engulf you in a warm embrace, his eyes sparkling with anticipation as he cutely requested your touch. And every time, you’d forget about whatever you were doing before to lovingly give him what he wanted. The groan or heavy sigh that escaped him immediately afterward was definitely worth it.

His cuddle sessions with you became a regular occurrence, including back scratches. He’d happily be the small spoon in these moments, his arms wrapped around your waist snugly as your hand found its familiar place under his hoodie, letting your nails rake up and down his bare back. He’d also prefer you to scratch a little harder, just because he loves the feeling of your nails pressing against his skin. 

Besides, it comes in handy when an unexpected itch pops up on his back. He doesn’t even have to say anything, you just intuitively apply the perfect amount of pressure to make him hum in delight. You always blush when he squeezes you a little tighter and nuzzles his nose against your neck to show his appreciation. More often than not, this boy would drift off to sleep while you scratched his back, which you found to be so endearing. You’d gradually stop scratching and press a chaste kiss to his forehead, before also falling asleep in his arms.

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haechan 

Back scratches with Haechan became a demand after the first time you offered it. To him, scratching his itches was simply another one of your responsibilities as his girlfriend. Whenever you were trying to get some work done on your laptop or seemed preoccupied with your phone, he’d pester you nonstop with aegyo until you relented. Then he’d drag you to the bed and pull off his shirt, eagerly waiting for you to start. The moment your nails made contact with his warm skin, he’d let out a satisfied moan that made you blush profusely.

The first few times he had you scratch his back, you found his presumptuousness amusing, but it soon became a regular part of your routine. Haechan had a way of making even the simplest gestures feel special, and his playful attitude made it hard to say no. He’d dramatically sigh in relief as your fingers worked their magic, exaggerating his contentment just to make you smile.

Similar to Mark, you got used to your boyfriend’s antics. But you genuinely didn’t mind scratching his back, knowing how hard he worked. When he was really tired, he wouldn’t even say anything. He’d just curl up beside you on the bed and drape your arm over his back, silently asking for your touch. How could you say no with the subtle pout on his lips?

Despite his playful demands, there was this underlying sweetness in these moments. You could feel how much Haechan trusted you, as he’d lean into your touch with a vulnerability that he rarely showed. Each stroke of your fingers down his back was a reminder of the closeness you shared. Even though he acted like it was your duty most of the time, you both knew it was a cherished way for him to feel loved and cared for.

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jaemin 

Back scratches with Jaemin made you seriously wonder if he was secretly a cat disguised as a human. However, the first time you scratched his back was a little different. It was during a lazy at-home date when you noticed him trying to reach the same itch on his back throughout the day. While his struggle was endearing to watch, you couldn’t stand by for long. Eventually, you gestured for him to turn around, and with a gentle touch, you scraped your nails across the offending spot right between his shoulder blades. Instantly, Jaemin released a relieved sigh, and his knees almost buckled at the sensation of your touch.

After that day, Jaemin went to you whenever his back was itchy. Once the itch was gone, he’d calmly ask you to keep doing it because it felt good. So he’d be sitting at the edge of the couch, with you behind him as you scratched his back attentively. He loved it even more when you scratched under his shirt, relishing the feeling of your skin on his. Even if your hands were cold, he actually found the contrast to be surprisingly soothing. The coolness of your touch combined with the gentle pressure of your nails never failed to send shivers of pleasure down his spine, making him feel even more connected to you.

At some point, you swore you could hear him purring against your touch. The resemblance to his own cats was uncanny, which you found both hilarious and adorable. Just like his fluffy companions, he would lean into your touch, his eyes half-closed in pure contentment, a soft hum of pleasure escaping his lips. The endearing similarity never failed to make you smile, adding another layer of warmth to these intimate moments.

It was safe to say you loved giving Jaemin back scratches just as much as he loved receiving them. Sometimes you’d notice him stretching uncomfortably after long dance practices or intense workout sessions, so you’d offer to scratch his back before he even had a chance to ask. There was something incredibly rewarding about seeing the tension melt away from his body. While you took pleasure in providing this small comfort, you also appreciated these quiet moments of intimacy with him. Scratching his back was a simple act, yet it spoke volumes about the care and affection that you didn’t always express fully. 

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chenle 

Back scratches with Chenle were annoying at first. He would often come up to you, casually asking for a back scratch from you. Although you didn’t necessarily mind, the moment your fingers touched his skin, he would start squirming and wiggling because he was so ticklish. His constant moving made it nearly impossible for you to scratch his back properly. Although his giggles and yelps were cute, you felt like you were trying to tame a playful puppy.

This happened every time, and you’d try to leave out of frustration. But Chenle would always pull you into a back-hug and beg you to say. “No, don’t be mad! I swear, I won’t move this time!” He’d insist, but you knew all too well that he wouldn’t actually keep still. He couldn’t help being ticklish, which he often argued in his defense. So you had to figure out a way to scratch his back without him convulsing under your touch.

Eventually, you started focusing more on scratching his upper back, a less sensitive area where he wasn't as ticklish. You noticed an immediate change the first time you tried this. Chenle stopped squirming as much and began to relax under your touch. His laughter subsided into contented sighs, and he would lean into your scratches. He clearly enjoyed the sensation of you tracing circles around his shoulder blades, though he’d never admit it out loud.

Therefore, scratching his back became a much more pleasant experience for both of you. It started to become a routine for you two after he came back from playing basketball or to help him fall asleep. You firmly believed that your usually loud boyfriend was the cutest when he was peacefully asleep in your arms. While he could certainly be a handful at times with his playful antics and boundless energy, you knew he appreciated you. He'd often surprise you with little acts of kindness that showed how much he valued your presence in his life.

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jisung 

Back scratches with Jisung became his source of comfort whenever he felt anxious. You’d notice him pacing around the room, his tall frame hunched in worry as he muttered to himself. As someone who also tended to overthink, you probably understood Jisung better than anyone. Which motivated you even more to find a way to calm him down. Without a word, you’d guide him to sit somewhere and gently start scratching his back. Your touch seemed to ground him, the soothing motion helping to ease his restless mind.

As you worked your fingers up and down his back, applying just the right amount of pressure, you could feel the tension in him gradually melting away. When you thought he was feeling better, you’d start to pull away. However, Jisung would clutch onto your hand, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he looked up at you. “Can we stay like this a little longer, please?” His voice, though deep, carried a vulnerable edge, revealing just how much he needed your comforting presence.

So you’d continue, letting your fingers move gently along his spine. During this time, Jisung’s usually shyness was replaced by quiet contentment. He’d lean into your touch, his breathing evening out as the anxiety faded. Oftentimes, he’d share his innermost thoughts and you’d listen quietly until he was done. He didn’t expect you to respond with any solutions though, knowing that your support alone was enough. Still, you tried to provide words of reassurance, and he valued every effort. These tender moments made Jisung realize how deeply in love he was with you.

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previous masterlist -> current masterlist

[lila-lou]

✨ His only exception - Pt. 28/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, angst, fluff, soft Ben, Ben being slightly insecure

Word Count: 6891

A/N: This is part 28 of “His only exception”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

As Ben drove to the Vought Tower, his hand remained on your thigh. You glanced over at him, noticing the tense set of his jaw, and decided to break the silence.

"How's everything going with the team?, you asked, your voice soft as you reached over to squeeze his hand.

Ben sighed, his grip tightening slightly. "I still don't trust those fuckers any farther than I can throw 'em".

It wasn't easy for Ben to trust others, especially not them.

You shook your head, still unable to believe the extent of the lies and betrayal that had unfolded within the team. The memory of how they had treated Ben made your blood boil, but you knew dwelling on it wouldn't change the past.

"I still can't believe what they did to you", you muttered, your voice tinged with anger and frustration.

Ben shrugged nonchalantly, a bitter smile playing on his lips. "Eh, it's enough justice to see their fucked-up and pissed faces every day", he replied, his tone laced with satisfaction. "Now they have to do exactly what I want".

"But… as much as I'd love to rip them apart", he admitted with a wry chuckle, "They're doing a pretty decent job. They're taking care of all the supes I want to get vanished, and the media seems to like them".

He paused, a hint of grudging respect in his voice. "Can't deny they're effective, I'll give them that", he added.

As the two of you stood in the elevator, Ben looked down at you, his expression serious. "After the meeting, I'm going with you to the doctor", he stated firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We need to make sure everything's okay with you and the baby".

You nodded, your hand brushing softly over your stomach, a gesture of both comfort and uncertainty. "Yeah, I guess we do", you murmured softly, your voice tinged with a mixture of emotions. "It's just… all so surreal, you know?".

Ben's gaze softened as he reached out to gently squeeze your hand. "Don't worry too much about it", he reassured you, his tone surprisingly gentle.

As you stepped into the meeting room, the team was already waiting impatiently. Butcher seemed particularly annoyed, his arms crossed over his chest. The others raised eyebrows as they saw you walking slightly behind Ben, a rare sight that piqued their curiosity.

"Well, look who decided to join us. And what about you, did you crawl out from under your rock, (Y/N)?".

Before you could even respond, Ben's protective instincts kicked in, his tone sharp and defensive. "Watch your fucking mouth, Butcher", he snapped, his jaw clenched tightly. "She's here because she damn well pleases, and that's none of your business".

You shot Ben a grateful glance, appreciating his defense, but also feeling a bit annoyed at his brusque manner.

Butcher couldn't resist pushing Ben's buttons further. "Ooh, touchy, aren't we? Didn't realize you had such a soft spot for the lady".

Ben's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he shot Butcher a menacing glare. "Keep pushing your luck, Butcher, and you'll fucking regret it", he warned.

Ben pulled out a chair for you, gesturing for you to sit down. With crossed arms, he stood beside you, his expression stern and guarded as Butcher filled everyone in about the supes who seemed to want to stand up against the new Vought. Meanwhile, you felt some gentle movements in your belly, a sensation that both excited and unsettled you.

As Butcher spoke, Ben glanced down at you, noticing the subtle change in your demeanor. "You alright?", he murmured softly, concern flickering in his eyes.

You nodded softly, trying to concentrate on the meeting as A-Train and Annie showed some video footage. Hughie chimed in, directing his comment to Ben, "No one knows where the supes are hiding right now. They're keeping a low profile".

Ben's expression darkened as he absorbed Hughie's words, his mind already strategizing the next move. "Alright", he muttered, his voice firm. "We'll find them. Keep an eye on any leads, no matter how small".

Frenchie reminded Ben of the media conference in two hours, and Ben rolled his eyes, grumbling, "Annie should take this".

Annie raised both arms in protest, but Ben brushed her off rudely. "No, you'll fucking handle it, blondie", he insisted brusquely.

Just then, a wave of nausea hit you.

Again Ben looked down at you, noticing your pale complexion. "You´re sure you´re fucking okay?", he asked.

You shook your head slightly, feeling queasier by the moment. "I think I need some air", you mumbled, quickly stepping out of the room.

Butcher's voice followed you, gruff and concerned. "What the bloody hell is going on with her?", he demanded.

Ben waved him off dismissively, already following you out of the room. "Like i said, none of your business", he retorted sharply, his focus solely on you.

With Ben on your heels, you quickly stepped into the nearest bathroom, the urgency rising as nausea overwhelmed you. You doubled over, vomiting painfully into the toilet, your body trembling with each heave. Ben hovered nearby, concern etched into his features, but unsure of how to help in this situation.

Ben held your hair back.

"What do you need?", he asked, his voice tinged with worry. But you were unable to respond, the waves of nausea rendering you speechless.

As Ben watched you in distress, he felt a wave of helplessness wash over him. It was a rare moment of vulnerability for him, accustomed to being in control and taking charge. Seeing you in pain, and feeling powerless to alleviate it, left him feeling unusually weak and unsettled.

Annie turned to Frenchie, a curious expression on her face. "So, are Soldier Boy and (Y/N) a couple now?", she asked.

Frenchie shrugged, feigning ignorance. "Mon amie, how should I know?", he replied casually.

Annie raised an eyebrow, pointing out the fact that you seemed to like Frenchie the most.

Frenchie chuckled lightly. "Well, I don't know for sure, but it certainly seems that way", he admitted with a knowing smile.

Butcher's tone was sharp as he addressed Frenchie. "Then why's Soldier Boy still a tense asshole when he can stick one away whenever he wants?", he quipped, his words dripping with sarcasm.

Annie nudged Butcher with her elbow, shooting him a disapproving look. "Come on, Butcher, ease up", she chided, her tone firm but gentle.

"Are you fucking happy taking orders from a supe on coke with PTSD?".

Hughie mumbled, "It's better than being dead", as A-Train chimed in, "Soldier Boy's actually doing a pretty decent job, even though I hate to admit it".

"Plus he didn’t kill anyone like Homelander did, and he's actually trying to represent the supes as the good ones again", Hughie added.

Ben held you steady from behind, his grip firm yet gentle. "Are you feeling any better?", he asked.

You took a deep breath, feeling the nausea subsiding. "Yeah, a little", you replied, leaning back against him for support.

Ben helped you up, his strong arms steadying you as you made your way to the sink. After rinsing your mouth, you leaned against the sink, feeling weak and shaky. Ben stood beside you, his concern evident in his furrowed brow.

"You´re fine?", he asked softly, his hand reaching out to rub soothing circles on your back.

"Yeah, kinda", you mumbled. "This part of pregnancy is absolutely no fun at all".

With Ben's hand on your lower back, guiding you inside, you returned to the meeting. Annie eyed you suspiciously, but Ben quickly took charge, instructing everyone on what to do. Then, he stepped towards the elevator with you.

You made your way to the doctor's office for a battery of tests, with Ben steadfastly by your side, his arms crossed over his supe suit as he watched over you protectively.

The doctor reviewed your files and then turned to you. "I want to try another ultrasound", he said, his tone gentle yet determined, "Even though the last one didn't work as we hoped".

You nodded and changed into a gown, then hopped onto the examination chair. Ben stood nearby as you slowly spread your legs.

The doctor approached with the ultrasound equipment. "Take a deep breath", he instructed gently as he inserted the transducer into your vagina. You winced at the discomfort, and Ben hissed in response.

Again Ben's protective instincts flared up as he watched you wince at the discomfort. He shot a glare at the doctor, his tone laced with hostility. "Careful there", he growled, his voice low and threatening. "Don't fucking hurt her".

The doctor raised an eyebrow at Ben's hostility but remained focused on the task at hand. "I'm being as gentle as I can", he assured, trying to calm the situation.

You reached out and placed a reassuring hand on Ben's arm, silently urging him to relax.

The doctor adjusted the ultrasound machine, his eyes scanning the screen intently. But after a while, Ben got impatient.

Ben's jaw clenched as he watched the screen, his frustration mounting. "Do you fucking see anything or not?", he demanded.

"Just give me a moment", he said calmly, his tone professional despite Ben's impatience.

The doctor turned the monitor toward both of you and began to explain what he saw.

"Here", he pointed to the screen, "That's the gestational sac, and there", he moved the transducer slightly, "Is your baby".

You looked at the screen, feeling a surge of relief wash over you. Ben's grip on your hand tightened as he listened intently to the doctor's explanation.

"The heartbeat is a bit faint, but that's normal at this stage", the doctor continued. "Overall, everything looks good".

You could have sworn you saw one single tear in Ben’s eyes, but he quickly composed himself.

"I can't believe it", you whispered.

Ben actually smiled softly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "Me neither", he murmured. "But I'm fucking glad it's real".

As the doctor continued to measure and check everything, you couldn't help but feel a sense of amazement at the whole process. It was new territory for all of you, and the doctor seemed just as intrigued as you were.

After a moment of silence, the doctor spoke up again, his tone filled with a mix of curiosity and wonder. "It's definitely the baby of a supe", he remarked, his eyes flicking between you and Ben. "It seems the baby has some control over whether it's visible on the ultrasound or not, like… a shield".

Ben's lips twitched into a little smirk, a proud glint in his eyes at the thought of potentially making the first natural supe on earth.

"Given the circumstances, I'll need to see you as often as possible. We need to monitor your progress closely, considering the unique nature of this pregnancy and its potential effects on your health".

After another few tests and a long talk with the doctor, Ben accompanied you to his office, where you promptly collapsed onto the couch, feeling exhausted after the barrage of tests and examinations.

Ben leaned against his desk, flashing you a smirk as he commented, "Looks like carrying my baby is taking a toll on you, huh?". You just rolled your eyes at him.

Ben pushed himself back from his desk and handed you a bottle of water. “Here, drink up”, he said. “Do you want me to drive you home?”.

You shook your head, taking a sip of water. “No, I need to work”, you replied, rubbing your temples. But Ben wasn’t having any of it.

"No way", Ben insisted. "Not while you're carrying my baby".

You sighed, knowing it was futile to argue with him when he got like this. "Ben, I'll be fine", you said, trying to reassure him. "I have work to do, and I can't just abandon it".

But Ben's expression hardened, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive once more. "I don't fucking care", he stated firmly. "Your health and the baby's health come first. Besides.. I´m your fucking boss now, so… You are hereby granted a leave of absence".

"Alright", you conceded, sighing heavily. "But only because I'm too tired to argue with you".

Ben's lips curved into a satisfied smirk as he reached for his keys. "That's what I like to hear", he said, his tone playful yet firm. "Let's get you home and make sure you rest".

With that, he led you out of the office and drove you home.

As you kicked off your shoes and headed straight to the bathroom to get changed, your phone on the kitchen counter buzzed with a message from Frenchie, asking how you were doing. Ben glanced at the message, his brows furrowing slightly.

“You got a message from.. Serge", he called out towards the bathroom, his tone laced with a hint of jealousy, not knowing that thats Frenchies real name.

You emerged from the bathroom, wearing more comfortable clothes, and raised an eyebrow at him. “It’s just Frenchie”, you replied casually. “He’s just checking in, nothing to worry about”.

Ben's expression darkened, a trace of annoyance flashing in his eyes. "Since when do you talk to the team again?", he asked.

You rolled your eyes. "Just with Frenchie", you mumbled, trying to diffuse the tension. But Ben wasn't satisfied with that answer, his suspicion lingering in the air.

His eyes lingered on your belly, a frown forming on his face. He wasn't happy, and you could sense his unease.

"You're jealous, aren't you?", you teased, a small grin playing on your lips as you observed his reaction.

Ben scoffed, trying to downplay his feelings. "Don't be fucking ridiculous", he replied, his tone defensive. "I just… don't trust them, that's all".

You mumbled a noncommittal "huh", looking at him, which made him raise an eyebrow in response.

"What the fuck are you thinking?", Ben asked, his tone a mixture of irritation and curiosity.

You grinned and shook your head. "Oh, nothing", you mumbled, but as you tried to step out of the kitchen, Ben grabbed your wrist, his gaze intense as he looked down at you.

"What's going on in that head of yours, huh?", he asked again.

You chuckled, feeling a rush of affection for Ben despite his overbearing attitude. "Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you", you replied.

Ben was taken aback by your unexpected declaration, his grip on your wrist loosening slightly. But before he could respond, you leaned in to press a quick kiss to his lips. Surprised, Ben's initial hesitation melted away, and he quickly pulled you against his chest, returning the kiss with fervor. His hands found their way to your hips, holding you close as he deepened the kiss, his passion evident in every movement.

As Ben carefully lifted you onto the kitchen counter, stepping between your legs, he gazed at you intently. His hands rested on your waist, his touch gentle yet possessive, as you bit your lip, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. The intensity of his stare sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but blush even more under his scrutiny.

His gaze fell on the necklace he had gifted you. "Thank you for coming after me", he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity. "For literally saving me". He meant more than just the physical act of freeing him a few weeks ago; it was a testament to your unwavering loyalty and love that had brought him back from the brink.

You bit your lip again, feeling the weight of his sincerity. His eyes held a depth of emotion that stirred something within you. That was the moment you knew, that despite your reservations and uncertainties, you couldn't deny him the chance to be a father.

"I'm going to keep the baby", you whispered softly, your voice filled with determination and a hint of vulnerability.

Ben's eyes shot up, a mixture of surprise and joy dancing within them. His lips twitched into a grin as he processed your words, a surge of happiness washing over him.

"Really?", he exclaimed. "I mean… of course you fucking are", he added hastily.

You shook your head in disbelief, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you looked up at Ben.

Ben's grin widened. "Guess that means I'm going to be a fucking father then", he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine excitement. "A real one".

Ben heaved you up onto his hips, a smirk playing on his lips as he carried you into the bedroom.

"That screams for some extra orgasms for you", he grumbled playfully, his tone teasing as he laid you down on the bed.

You leaned back, giggling slightly as you squeezed your legs together, teasing Ben. He tried to push them apart, his hands roaming over your thighs.

"I can't, I'm on my period", you joked.

Ben raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, come on now", he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. "That's not how it works".

"Well, who knows", you grinned mischievously. "Maybe our baby comes with some special perks".

"I highly doubt it", he replied. "But I guess we'll find out soon enough".

With that Ben pulled down your sweatpants and panties with a bit of roughness, parting your legs shamelessly. Your breath hitched at the sudden intensity of his actions.

"You're just full of jokes today, aren't you?", Ben grumbled.

You grinned down at him. "Always gotta keep you on your toes", you replied, but before you could say anything more, Ben silenced you by sucking harshly on your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

You moaned loudly, your back arching as Ben's mouth and tongue worked their magic on your pussy. "Fuck, Ben", you cursed, your fingers tangling in his hair as he continued his relentless assault. The intensity of his ministrations sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making it difficult to form coherent thoughts as you surrendered to the ecstasy.

"Ben, ease up", you gasped, pulling on his hair gently. The sensation was overwhelming, and you needed him to dial it back just a notch. Despite the pleasure coursing through you, you were starting to shake from the intensity of his ministrations.

Ben chuckled against your sensitive skin, his eyes locking with yours as he murmured, "Are you going to stop teasing me and behave like a good girl now?". His tone was playful, but there was a hint of authority in his voice, challenging you to comply.

You blushed hard under his gaze. "Maybe", you teased, unable to resist pushing his buttons a little more.

Ben's lips curved into a smirk as he bit your thigh lightly. "Careful now", he warned. "You wouldn't want to test me, would you?", his voice low and husky as he trailed kisses back up your thigh, his lips tantalizingly close to your heated core.

As he inched over your clit, you shook your head, trying to push your hips upward so you could feel his lips again, but his grip on your hipbones held you in place.

"Patience, sweetheart", he murmured, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "I'll get there when I'm good and ready".

With a mischievous grin, Ben dipped his head down, teasingly grazing his lips over your sensitive skin. He reveled in the way you squirmed beneath him, your breath hitching with each tantalizing touch. "But if you keep squirming like that", he whispered huskily, "I might have to punish you for being so impatient".

You whimpered, feeling the delicious torture of his teasing. "Ben, you said you wanted to reward me", you moaned, your voice pleading. "But all you're doing is teasing the hell out of me".

Ben chuckled lowly, the sound vibrating against your sensitive skin. "I am rewarding you", he murmured huskily. "Just not in the way you expected". With that, he dipped his head back down, his tongue tracing teasing circles around your throbbing clit, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body.

As Ben's skilled tongue danced across your throbbing clit, a wave of pleasure surged through your body, making your breath hitch. His movements were deliberate, teasing, as if he relished every moment of your ecstasy. His lips pressed softly against your skin.

You grasped the sheets tightly, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of his touch. Each flick of his tongue sent electric pulses of pleasure racing through you. Your hips instinctively arched towards him.

Ben's grip on your hipbones tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pressed your pussy harder against his lips, his tongue delving deeper, seeking out every ounce of pleasure within you.

Amidst the overwhelming sensations, you found yourself murmuring, "The doctor said it's unusual to feel this nauseous within the first few weeks of a pregnancy". Your words were punctuated by soft moans, escaping your lips involuntarily as pleasure coursed through your body.

Ben's movements faltered for a moment, his eyes flickering with surprise and something deeper, something you couldn't quite decipher amidst the haze of pleasure. But then, he resumed his ministrations with even more fervor, as if determined to drown out any thoughts other than the ecstasy you shared in that moment.

"I don't care about the fucking doctor", he growled against your skin, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "All I care about is you, right here, right fucking now".

You cried out loud as Ben applied more pressure, his determination evident in every movement as he sought to immerse you fully in the intoxicating whirlwind of pleasure. But amidst the ecstasy, a nagging worry crept into your mind.

"Maybe it's not a good sign that it starts so early", you moaned.

Ben paused for a moment, his eyes locking with yours as he pulled back slightly, a furrow forming on his brow. "I'm trying to give you something here", he grumbled, frustration evident in his tone as he nodded towards your wet pussy just inches in front of him.

The weight of his words hung in the air, mingling with the heady scent of desire as you gazed into his eyes, searching for reassurance amidst the storm of emotions swirling within you. But then, with a determined glint in his eyes, Ben leaned forward once more, his lips capturing yours in a fierce kiss that tried to silenced any doubts, any fears.

"Just… relax, sweetheart", Ben murmured against your lips, his words a mixture of frustration and reassurance. "We'll talk about this later".

As he pushed himself down again, his movements more urgent, the tension between you palpable. But after a while, your inability to concentrate on his work scratched at his ego, gnawing at the edges of his patience until finally, a string of curses escaped his lips.

"Fucking hell", he growled, the words laced with frustration as he fought to rein in his simmering anger. "Why won't you just… come?".

Your heart sank as you sensed the frustration and self-doubt creeping into Ben's voice. The realization that he believed it was his fault only deepened your own sense of guilt.

"I'm sorry", you whispered, the words barely audible amidst the rush of emotions swirling within you. "I'm trying, Ben, I really am".

Ben struggled to make sense of the situation.

"I know you are", he grumbled, his voice softening slightly as he reached out to stroke your cheek, his touch gentle despite the frustration that simmered just beneath the surface. "But maybe my dick would get your full attention, hmm?". Yet beneath the harshness of his tone, a flicker of concern still lingered.

As Ben stood up, shedding his supe suit with practiced ease, your eyes followed his every movement, tracing the contours of his body. Despite the frustration that had simmered between you moments before, the sight of him standing before you, already hard and ready, stirred something within you.

For Ben, there was nothing better than tasting you, hearing you moan beneath his touch.

As he approached, you sat up, your movements fluid and graceful as you pulled off your shirt, leaving you completely naked before him. The air crackled with anticipation, the tension between you palpable as you met his gaze, your eyes locking in a silent promise of mutual desire and longing.

Ben closed the distance between you, his hands reaching out to cup your face as he claimed your lips in a fierce, possessive kiss.

With a firm but gentle push, Ben guided you back onto the bed, the mattress yielding beneath your weight as you settled into the soft embrace. Quickly, he shifted his position so that you straddled him, his hands finding purchase on your hips as he urged you to look at him.

"I need you to look at me, sweetheart", he murmured, his voice low and commanding. "Think about nothing but the feeling I'll give you. No more distractions".

You nodded.

As Ben lowered you slowly onto his dick, you felt your tightness stretching around him, a sensation that always elicited a quiet wince from you. Despite your body's familiarity with his size, the initial discomfort never fully subsided.

But tonight, as he filled you completely, the discomfort seemed to intensify, a sharp pang of pain shooting through you as you struggled to adjust to his size. Each inch of him felt like a stretch, a challenge to your body's limits, and though you tried to relax and surrender to the pleasure, the discomfort lingered like a stubborn shadow, refusing to be ignored.

"You okay?", Ben's voice broke through the haze of discomfort.

You nodded weakly, forcing a small smile as you tried to push aside the discomfort and focus on the pleasure that awaited you. But deep down, you knew that tonight would be different.

Your nails dug into Ben’s shoulder plates, seeking purchase as you sought to steady yourself against the waves of discomfort that threatened to overwhelm you. Beneath you, his hands remained firm on your hips.

With a sharp intake of breath, you sucked in your lip, trying to stifle the small gasp that escaped you as you slowly raised your hips up. The ache intensified as you lowered yourself back down, the discomfort blossoming into a sharp pain that made you wince audibly this time.

Ben’s frustration grew palpable, his jaw clenched tightly. He had always prided himself on his ability to please you, to bring you pleasure beyond measure, and yet tonight, it seemed that every effort only served to exacerbate your discomfort.

“I’m sorry”, you whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of pain and guilt as you met his gaze.

Despite the frustration gnawing at his patience, Ben wasn't ready to give up just yet. He knew that you always struggled to take him, but tonight seemed to be on a whole new level. Yet, amidst the discomfort and the lingering doubts, he remained determined to find a solution, to ease your pain and bring you the pleasure you both craved.

"No need to apologize", he muttered softly, his voice a soothing balm against the turmoil in your mind as he reached for a bottle of lube from his bedside table. With practiced ease, he uncapped it, the familiar scent filling the air as he coated his fingers, his movements gentle and deliberate as he prepared to ease your discomfort.

With his free hand, Ben guided you up again, his touch surprisingly gentle as he positioned you just above him. But for him, gentleness was a relative term, and you could feel the underlying urgency in his movements, a silent plea for relief from the discomfort that had plagued you both.

With a soft gasp, you felt his coated finger glide over your clit, the slickness of the lube providing a welcome relief to the ache that had lingered within you. And as he pushed two fingers inside your pussy, a slow and deliberate rhythm, you couldn't help but relax into his touch.

As Ben's fingers worked their way inside you, his eyes were glued to the sight of how they pushed into your tightness, each movement deliberate and calculated. He could feel the tension in your body gradually giving way, the resistance softening as you began to relax under his touch.

"You're doing great, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a soft whisper of encouragement as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you. "Just relax and let me take care of you".

Even though Ben felt the urge to mutter something really inappropriate, urging you to just fucking take him, he knew that this wasn't the time. He understood that you needed him to be gentle and patient today, especially with your hormones going crazy and everything related to the pregnancy feeling overwhelming.

Suppressing his own frustrations, Ben focused on the task at hand, determined to provide you with the care and attention you needed in this moment. He kept his movements slow and steady, his touch gentle yet firm as he continued to work his fingers inside you, seeking to ease the discomfort and bring you the pleasure you deserved.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?", he asked softly. "You think you're ready to take me?", he looked up at you.

With a shaky breath, you nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you met his gaze. "Yeah", you whispered, your voice filled with determination and longing. "I'm good".

"Alright", Ben muttered, his voice a low rumble of anticipation.

As you carefully guided Ben’s dick inside you, lowering yourself slowly onto him, a mixture of pleasure and relief washed over you both. Ben groaned deeply, his eyes falling shut for a few seconds as he relished the sensation of being enveloped by your warmth and tightness. A low, primal growl escaped his lips. His grip tightened uncontrollably, sending a shiver down your spine as you felt the intensity of his desire coursing through him.

Your breath hitched as his grip tightened, a mixture of pleasure and pain dancing on the edge of your senses. “Ben, be careful”, you murmured, your voice laced with a hint of urgency as you reached towards your belly, a silent reminder of the life growing within you.

His eyes snapped open, meeting yours.

Instantly, Ben loosened his grip, his hands falling down to rest gently on your thighs.

“I didn’t mean to…”.

Feeling his remorse, you took Ben’s hands in yours, guiding them back towards your hips with a reassuring squeeze. You knew how difficult it was for him to hold back, especially in moments of intense passion.

“It’s okay, Ben”, you whispered, your voice filled with understanding and love. “I trust you”.

You began to move a bit faster, eager to reciprocate the pleasure he always gave you, even though he was a lot to handle today. His dick stretched you beyond your limits.

With each movement, Ben's touch grew even gentler, his guidance subtle yet firm as he encouraged you to find your own rhythm. Together, you moved in perfect harmony.

But despite your efforts, you still struggled to find release. Frustration gnawed at the edges of your mind as you desperately tried to shift your angle, to find that elusive sweet spot that would bring you to climax. But no matter how hard you tried, your mind refused to shut off, the weight of your worries and uncertainties clinging to you like a heavy shroud.

"Fuck, look at me", Ben ordered, his voice a low growl of urgency as he grasped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "I need you here with me, baby".

His words cut through the fog of your thoughts, grounding you in the present moment. With a shaky breath, you nodded, your eyes locking with his as you surrendered yourself to his command.

As you gazed into his eyes, the intensity of his desire mirrored your own, igniting a spark of passion that burned bright between you.

Ben cupped your small body with one of his big arms around your waist, pressing you gently against him. With his other hand, he grabbed your buttock, pressing you down onto his cock, eliciting a sharp cry from your lips.

"I want you so fucking much", he murmured.

His words sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that burned hotter with each passing moment. As he held you close, the heat of his body enveloping you.

Ben pulled you closer, his touch and words finally grounding you in the here and now.

"You take me so damn well, baby", he muttered, his voice husky with need. "I love the way you feel around me, so tight and wet".

Each word sent a jolt of pleasure through you, heightening the intensity of your connection as you surrendered yourself to the raw passion that flowed between you. With each thrust, each whispered confession of desire, you felt yourself drawing closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Finally, you let go of your thoughts, allowing yourself to get lost in Ben´s beautiful green eyes. His dick throbbed inside you, and you began to clench around him, your body responding instinctively to the pleasure coursing through you.

Ben's gaze never wavered from yours as he felt you tighten around him, a low groan escaping his lips. "That's it, baby", he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Feel how good you make me, how much I need you".

With each clench of your muscles, you felt the tension building within you, the pleasure reaching its peak as you surrendered yourself completely to the ecstasy of the moment.

As the climax washed over you both, you felt a sense of euphoria enveloping you, a shared release of tension and desire that left you both breathless and spent. Ben held you close, his arms wrapped around you protectively as you basked in the afterglow of your shared intimacy.

As you fell against his chest, your breath heavy and your body weak against his hard chest, Ben chuckled softly and planted a kiss on the top of your head.

“Fuck Sweetheart”, he muttered with a mix of amusement and frustration. “Your orgasm was playing hard to get tonight, huh?”.

You couldn’t help but laugh weakly at his comment, feeling a sense of relief and lightheartedness wash over you despite the lingering intensity of the moment. “Sorry about that”, you replied, your voice still tinged with the remnants of pleasure.

Still, Ben couldn’t shake the feeling of frustration and inadequacy gnawing at the edges of his mind. He may have overplayed it with his lighthearted comment, but deep down, his ego was bruised.

He prided himself on his ability to please you effortlessly, to have you ready within seconds and coming within minutes. But tonight, he felt like he had fallen short of that mark, struggling to bring you the pleasure you deserved. And for him, as the man, it was one of the worst feelings imaginable.

Despite his attempts to brush it off with humor, the nagging sense of disappointment lingered. He knew you didn’t blame him, but still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had let you down.

As he held you close, his mind raced.

As you looked up at Ben, you could see the turmoil in his eyes as he wrestled with his thoughts. Cupping his face in your hands, you gifted him a small smile, hoping to ease the weight of his worries, but he didn't respond.

"Babe", you murmured softly, your voice filled with love and reassurance. "You know it was on me, right? It's just… my mind and emotions that went crazy tonight. You were as damn awesome as always".

Your words hung in the air.

Ben shook his head slightly, his gaze drifting down to your belly as if seeking solace in the promise of new life. With a sigh, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer as if to shield you both from the doubts and insecurities that lingered in the air.

As he held you, his touch gentle and reassuring, you felt a sense of calm wash over you. You nestled against his naked chest, inhaling the familiar scent of his skin. His heartbeat echoed beneath your ear, a steady rhythm that lulled you into a state of tranquility.

As Ben felt your heartbeat slow down and heard the soft rhythm of your breathing, he knew that you had drifted off into a peaceful sleep on top of him. With utmost care, he gently lowered you down onto the bed, ensuring you were comfortable and tucked in beneath the blanket.

As Ben gently brushed a stray lock of hair from your face, he couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over him at the sight of you, sleeping so peacefully and undisturbed. With a soft sigh, he leaned down to press a tender kiss to your forehead before quietly slipping out of the room.

Entering the kitchen, he wasted no time in indulging in a line to take the edge off, the familiar rush momentarily distracting him from the lingering echoes of frustration and doubt. But it was his favorite whiskey that truly called to him.

With the bottle in hand, Ben made his way to the living room. Settling onto the couch, he allowed himself to sink into the soft cushions.

As he took a sip of the whiskey, its smooth warmth spreading through him.

As the evening rolled on and Ben was engrossed in a movie, he suddenly heard the unmistakable sound of vomiting from the bedroom. Pausing the movie, he quickly made his way towards you, throwing on some sweatpants along the way.

His gaze softened at the sight of you, hunched over the toilet, your face pale and drawn with discomfort. Without a word, he moved to your side, offering a comforting hand on your back as you continued to retch.

"You okay?", Ben asked softly, concern evident in his voice as he rubbed your back gently.

You groaned in response, leaning back slightly with tears in your eyes. "Ugh, this is gross", you muttered, hoping that the nausea would pass soon.

As you finished vomiting and stood up, feeling a bit dizzy, Ben moved to help you steady yourself. His arm wrapped around your waist, offering support as you made your way to the sink to brush your teeth.

While you were preoccupied with rinsing your mouth, Ben retrieved your silk robe from the bedroom. With a tender touch, he draped it around your shoulders, the smooth fabric gliding over your skin as he fastened it loosely around your body. "There, all better now, princess", he said with a smirk, kissing your shoulders. "Can't have my girl feeling under the weather, now can we?", his tone teasing but affectionate.

Rolling your eyes at his comment, you spit out the toothpaste and pulled the robe on correctly, adjusting it around your body. As you brushed over your eyes with your hand, trying to shake off the dizziness, you couldn't help but mumble under your breath.

"I feel like shit", you grumbled, the discomfort evident in your voice as you leaned against the sink for support.

Ben chuckled softly, his teasing tone belying the genuine concern in his eyes as he steadied you with a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

"Aw, come on, you're tough as nails", he teased, trying to lighten the mood. "A little nausea never hurt anyone, right? Besides, you'll be back to your badass self in no time".

As he spoke, he continued to support you, his touch gentle yet firm as he guided you back towards the bedroom.

As Ben guided you back towards the bedroom, his heart aching to see you in discomfort, he couldn't help but overplay his worry with playful comments. Deep down, he hated to see you like this, but he struggled to express it in a more straightforward manner.

You mumbled softly, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. "I shouldn't be puking this often, not this early in the pregnancy", you lamented, your voice tinged with frustration and concern.

Ben's expression softened at your words, the playful facade slipping away as he realized the gravity of the situation. "We'll figure it out", he murmured.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

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Part 29

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Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee

[fanaticsnail]

Aokiji for Kissing Booth please :3 (first time ask omg I just had to)

The Kissing Booth: Aokiji Kuzan for Skullfacedlady

Word Count: 700+

Notes: Your first time requesting, my first time writing for Aokiji. Wooh, I'll be writing for him again. His kiss had me feeling some kind of way, not gonna lie. Come and get a kiss, Skullfacedlady!

The crumbles of wafer-thin paper rustled into the jar beside your seat. The air around you began to grow unnaturally cold at a rate that raised alarms within you internally. You hastily sought out the source of the draft by gesturing your head from side to side, your silken blindfold prohibiting you from locating it more accurately. 

A deep rumbled chuckle hummed in front of you, as you heard your new guest place themselves on the seat in front of you. 

“Sorry, sweetheart. Sometimes I can’t control myself,” the smooth baritone hummed at you, his cadence soft and teasing, “Referring to the cold, that is.” You inquisitively cocked your head to the side at his confession and furrowed your brows beneath the material shroud. 

“You’re cool?” you ask him, a soft smile forming behind your pursed lips. You jolt upright at the feeling of an icy hand gently caressing your hand, the shock at such a temperature drop shaking you and puckering your skin with each subtle touch.

“Cool as they come, baby,” he offered you with a soft hum in his flirtatious tone. You felt him lean in, his glacial radiance biting at your skin before he drew himself closer. “May I?” You nod softly, fixing your posture to sit upright as he coaxes you into himself. 

His hand came up to gently cradle your face, gently smoothing over the skin at the apple of your cheek before lowering to caress your jaw. His touches felt soft, deliberate and sultry: his fingers dipping up further to touch over your lips. 

The featherlight touches from his fingers were gently replaced by his lips molding and caressing your own. His lips were cooler than his fingers were, a pleasant shock to your senses as you leaned into his touch. He gently mouthed at you, sensually and slowly coaxing more of you to open up to him. A pair of glasses brushed with your silken blindfold, almost catching the seams of the material shrouding your vision.

Intertwining fingers with yours, he gently raised your hand up to his neck and held it there with his, the other finding your hip and gently tugging you in closer to him. His kiss felt as if he was savoring every moment, no action rushed as he gently romanced you with his lips. 

Slowly drawing out his tongue, he switched angles and gently brushed his muscle with yours. At each moment, you truly felt like you were falling in love with his lingering touch, the coolness of his kiss had each fiber of your hair follicles standing to attention. 

The lingering effects of the cold touch began to numb and swell your bruised lips. With a soft groan of disappointment, he pulled away from you and assessed your lips. Clicking his tongue, he attempted to warm your lips by placing the heel of his palm against your skin. 

“Sorry, baby,” he hummed at you, chastising myself, “I find it hard to control myself around such beautiful people sometimes. Seems you’re no exception to the rule.” He pulled his hand away from your lips, witnessing the smile drawn up over your lips. 

“I don’t mind,” you exhaled in a breathy pant, a puff of cool vapor exiting your parted lips with every word, “I find your inability to control yourself alluring, honestly. Makes me feel special.”

“Oh, you are special, sweetheart,” he chuckled down at you, gently giving you a chilly kiss on the cheek before retracting himself from you completely. “You’ll still be here in an hour?”

“I’ll be here for another hour or so, yes,” you nod in confirmation, a soft giggle fleeing your lips at the admittance. He mirrored your expression, reaching down and giving your hand a gentle squeeze. 

“I’ll see you again on my way back then,” he uttered to you in a slow and laid-back tone. You reclined in your stool, pursing your lips to stifle your smile from rising on your cheeks further. 

“Looking forward to it,” you confessed, feeling his aura retreat with him and reignite your body in the natural warmth of festival air. Your lips still tingled with the lingering numbness of his icy lips on yours, a beautiful memory and promise of what's to come swelling your cheeks in a flush of warmth in anticipation.