#i do like the idea that it's the seemingly simple things that make love and relationships as nice as they ought to be

[eimiette]

late nights

࣪★ ⋆ ˙ ۪ ݁ 𓈒 ── SPENCER REID

SUMMARY: in the quiet moments between solving cases and late night paperwork, you and spencer blur the lines between friendship and something more, navigating the unspoken tension with stolen kisses in dark corners of the bau evidence room. GENRE: smut with plot, idiots in love (again, sorry) CW/TAGS: soft!dom spencer (duh), exhibitionism?, piv sex, oral f!receiving, lots of banter, est!fwb relationship, reader is referred to as a girl, praise asf.

the bullpen was nearly deserted, save for you and spencer reid, who were still chained to your desks, slogging through the seemingly endless pile of paperwork. the hum of the overhead lights and the occasional rustle of paper filled the quiet. everyone else had long since headed home, but you were too stubborn to leave until the job was done—and spencer was, well, spencer.

you glanced over at him, amused by how intensely he was concentrating on his work. his brow was furrowed, and his pen moved quickly over the report, as if he were solving a puzzle instead of filling out the same tedious forms as you. the sight made you smirk.

“hey, genius,” you called out, breaking the silence. “you got a second?”

he didn’t bother looking up. “for you? always,” he replied, his tone so casual it almost sounded sincere.

“great. i need your help in the evidence room,” you continued, stacking up a few files on your desk. “figured you could speed things up with that supercomputer brain of yours.”

he finally looked up, quirking an eyebrow. “and what, exactly, do i get out of this arrangement?”

you grinned. “the satisfaction of knowing you’re contributing to a more organized workspace. and, you know, my eternal gratitude.”

spencer sighed in mock resignation, setting down his pen. “fine. but only because i can’t stand to watch you fumble around in there any longer.”

you laughed as you led him down the hallway. “oh, please. we both know you live for this stuff. reorganizing the evidence room? it’s like christmas came early for you.”

he rolled his eyes, but his lips quirked up in a small smile. “if this is your idea of christmas, remind me not to accept any holiday invitations from you.”

you reached the heavy door of the evidence room and pushed it open, flipping on the overhead light. “i don’t know, i think you’d have fun. nothing like a little chaos to keep you on your toes.”

“or give me a migraine,” spencer muttered, stepping inside and taking in the rows of shelves filled with boxes and files. “alright, what’s the plan?”

“simple,” you said, setting the files down on a metal table in the center of the room. “we’ve got to merge these old case files into the new system. you’re a walking rolodex, so i’m counting on you to make this as painless as possible.”

he shot you a sideways look. “i see. so i’m just here to do all the thinking?”

“you got it,” you replied with a grin. “and i’m here to provide moral support and keep you entertained.”

“lucky me,” he said dryly, but there was a spark of amusement in his eyes as he crouched down to examine the boxes on the lower shelves. “i hope your idea of entertainment is better than your idea of organizing.”

you crouched down beside him, nudging him with your shoulder. “you wound me, reid. i thought we were in this together.”

he snorted softly. “yeah, together in the sense that i’m doing all the work, and you’re supervising.”

“hey, i’m contributing,” you shot back, pulling a box toward you. “i’m providing witty commentary. keeps things interesting.”

he shook his head, but his smile grew. “i’ll give you that. it’s definitely not boring.”

you fell into an easy rhythm, working side by side as you sorted through the files. the banter flowed naturally, the quiet hum of the evidence room providing a backdrop to your back-and-forth. every now and then, you’d catch spencer watching you out of the corner of his eye, and each time, he’d quickly look away, like he’d been caught at something.

at one point, you both reached for the same box at the same time, your hands brushing. you felt a spark of something—maybe it was just static, maybe it was more—and you glanced up to find him looking right at you, closer than you realized.

“careful,” you said with a smirk, your voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “people might think you’re trying to hold my hand.”

he didn’t move his hand away. instead, his eyes held yours, the corner of his mouth lifting. “like what? that i’m trying to be helpful?”

you chuckled. “or that you’re trying to get handsy.”

he smirked. “not sure that’s a compliment”

you scoffed, shaking your head. “it’s not. but you know, you keep this up, and someone’s gonna catch on.”

“maybe,” he replied, his voice low, “but that didn’t stop you last time.”

you rolled your eyes, leaning in slightly. “last time, we were off the clock. think you can pull this off at work?”

reid's eyes hung low,“i’m a fan of multitasking. besides, you always say i need to get out of my comfort zone.”

you gave him a playful smirk, leaning in closer. “is that what you’re calling this? because it feels more like you’re trying to test your luck.”

reid’s eyes widened, feigning innocence. “i’m just here to help you with the evidence. if you’re reading anything more into it, that’s all on you.”

you raised an eyebrow and he let out a soft chuckle, his hand lightly brushing your arm. “i promise, i’m just focused on finding those files. though if you think my intentions are less than professional, well, maybe you’re the one with a wild imagination.”

you let your hand trail lightly along his chest, raising an eyebrow. “oh, i’m sure you’re ‘focused,’ but i don’t think it’s on the evidence files.”

reid’s smile widened, his gaze dropping to where your hand rested. “noticed, did you? guess i can’t help but be a little distracted when you’re this close.”

you held your breath as reid gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering to cup your cheek. the touch was soft, but the way he looked at you made your pulse quicken.

“you know,” he began, his voice low and earnest, “i’ve been thinking about you all night. can’t seem to focus on anything else.”

you raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “oh? and why’s that?”

he let his fingers trail gently down from your cheek to your waist, his touch making you shiver slightly. “partly because you’re wearing that skirt. it’s just... distracting.”

you felt a jolt at his touch, his fingers brushing lightly under the hem of your shirt. “distracting, huh? how so?”

reid’s gaze dropped to where his hand rested on your waist, his fingers barely grazing your skin. “every time i tried to work, all i could think about was how you looked��how you’ve been driving me fucking insane since you walked in.”

his fingers trailed lightly under the bottom of your shirt, his touch gentle and deliberate. you held your breath, feeling the heat of his hand against your skin.

“you’re making it really hard to stay professional,” he continued, his voice low and husky. “i keep imagining what it’d be like if you were closer, if i could...”

you felt a rush of warmth at his words and his touch. “and what if i don’t mind a little distraction?”

reid’s eyes flickered with a mix of desire and appreciation. “if that’s the case, then i’m more than happy to be distracted.”

without warning, reid’s body pressed against yours, and you could feel the raw heat emanating from him. his lips were soft yet demanding as they captured yours, and your hands instinctively reached up to entangle in his hair. the sensation of his lips moving against yours was electrifying, making your heart race and your skin tingle.

reid's hands found your waist, gripping tightly as he maneuvered you backwards. your back collided with the smooth surface of a nearby desk, papers scattering to the floor unheeded. in one fluid motion, he lifted you onto its edge, positioning himself between your legs. the wood was cool against your flushed skin as reid pressed his body flush against yours.

his lips broke away from your mouth, trailing a searing path along your jawline. you tilted your head back with a soft gasp, granting him better access as he kissed down the column of your throat. his breath was hot against your skin, each exhalation sending tingles of electricity coursing through your body.

reid's voice was low and husky as he murmured against your neck. "you're so pretty," reid whispered, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. his lips brushed against your skin as he spoke, the sensation igniting sparks of pleasure. "been wanting you all day beautiful."

his hands roamed your body, leaving trails of heat in their wake. you felt yourself responding, a familiar warmth building low in your belly. reid's fingers danced along your curves as he continued murmuring praises and promises.

"’gonna make you feel so good," he purred, nipping gently at your earlobe.

your breath hitched as his words and touch inflamed your desire. you pressed closer, craving more contact. a soft moan escaped your lips as reid's hands found sensitive spots, expertly stoking your arousal.his hands slid up your thighs, pushing your skirt up to expose your bare skin. his fingers dipped under the lace of your panties, tracing tantalizing patterns. he leaned in to kiss you again, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. you could taste the sweetness of the coffee he'd had earlier as his tongue explored your mouth.

with a growl, he tugged at your panties, sliding them down your legs and tossing them aside. the cold metal of the desk against your bare skin made you gasp, but the shock quickly dissipated as reid's fingers found your slick folds. he stroked your clit, eliciting a breathy moan.

your body arched involuntarily as his fingers brought you closer to the edge. "fuck, spence..."

reid smirked, his eyes dark with lust. "god, you're so wet already," he groaned, his voice husky with desire.

he leaned down to kiss you again, swallowing your moans as his fingers continued their maddening rhythm. his other hand cupped your breast, squeezing gently through the fabric of your shirt. you were lost in the sensations, your body moving in sync with reid's.

he broke the kiss, his eyes raking over you hungrily, “"i want to taste you so badly."

without waiting for a response, he knelt before you, spreading your thighs. his lips grazed the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, causing a rush of pleasure. his breath was hot and intoxicating as he worked his way up, teasing you.

“spread your legs baby, that’s it… wider.” his hands slid up your calves, his palms rough against your skin. his fingertips danced along your thighs, sending waves of electricity coursing through you.

his voice was low and commanding, sending shivers down your spine. you obeyed, your knees falling apart, revealing yourself to him.

reid's tongue traced along the crease where your thigh met your hips, teasing you.

“spence…” you whined, arching into him, craving his touch.

his hands slid higher, pushing your skirt further up and exposing your soaked center. he licked his lips, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"fuck, baby, you look so good like this." he leaned in, his lips ghosting over your core. "so pretty and wet... so ready for me."

a whimper escaped your throat as his breath washed over you. your hands tangled in his hair, tugging gently, urging him to continue. he complied, his tongue flicking out to trace the outline of your lips. you shuddered at the sensation, your hips bucking involuntarily.

reid's fingers dug into your thighs, holding you in place as he lapped at your center. you moaned, your head falling back against the desk.

"tastes so good," he groaned, his breath hot against your skin.

you rocked your hips, grinding against his mouth, desperate for more friction. he responded, his tongue circling your clit, teasing you.

"spence..." you panted, your voice hoarse.

his eyes flicked up to meet yours, his pupils dilated with lust.

"yes?"

"i need... please..."

"what do you need, baby?"

you bit your lip, struggling to form words.

"please, spence, i need you. i need you inside me. please."

your words sent a visible shudder through him. he pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire.

"since you asked so nicely..."

with a groan, he stood, undoing his belt and zipper with frantic urgency. his cock sprang free, hard and aching. you reached for him, wrapping your fingers around his shaft, stroking him slowly. he pressed his lips to yours, capturing your mouth in a heated kiss.

reid's lips never left yours as his hand shifted to his back pocket, smoothly pulling out his wallet. his movements were quick but deliberate, fingers deftly sliding inside to retrieve a condom. as he did, you began unbuttoning his shirt, your fingers working swiftly down the row of buttons, each one exposing more of his skin. his breath hitched slightly at the sensation of your touch, his focus torn between getting the condom and the feel of your hands on him. you could feel his muscles tensing under your fingertips as you pushed his shirt open, and he held the condom up with a small, breathless grin, his eyes locked on yours.

he tore the wrapper open and rolled the condom onto his cock with practiced ease. with a soft moan, he positioned himself between your thighs, his erection pressing against your entrance. you gripped his shoulders, lifting your hips slightly to meet him, impatient and eager.

he pressed his lips to yours, his tongue darting out to taste you. you moaned softly, returning his kiss, your tongues dancing together.

"spence, please."

he nodded, his eyes fluttering shut as he pushed into you.

you gasped at the sensation, your body arching off the desk, desperate for more. he was hot and hard, stretching and filling you, setting every nerve ending on fire. he began to move, slow and steady, his eyes locked on yours.

"you feel so good, pretty girl," he groaned, his voice husky.

he gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh, guiding you as he increased his pace, “"wrap your legs around my waist."

your body complied without thought, locking him into place. the change in angle had you gasping and moaning as the delicious friction sent waves of pleasure coursing through you.

reid's eyes fluttered shut, his head falling forward, his lips brushing against yours. he guided your back to the desk top and held you there, thrusting into you, his pace relentless.

your breath was coming in short, shallow gasps as the pressure built inside you. your fingers dug into his shoulders, anchoring yourself to him as you climbed toward the peak.

"don't close your eyes, baby. look at me."

you forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze, losing yourself in his brown eyes.

"that's it, beautiful. so fucking beautiful," he praised.

he shifted his weight, changing the angle once again, his hips grinding against yours.

the sensation was too much, and you felt yourself tumbling over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you.

spencer buried his face in the crook of your neck, groaning as you clenched around him, milking him. he thrust into you once, twice, and then he was coming, his body shuddering with pleasure.

the two of you collapsed in a sweaty, panting heap, reid's weight pinning you to the desk. you lay there, his heartbeat thudding against yours, his breath hot on your skin.

sitting up from the desk, you felt a gentle, lingering warmth from the moment as you stretched. reid stepped closer, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the side of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. his touch was tender but filled with the lingering heat of the encounter.

with a gentle hand, he guided you to your feet, helping you up from the desk. as you stood, your legs trembled slightly. you pulled up your skirt as spencer also redressed. “so,” you teased, nudging his side, “is this where you quote some obscure fucking statistic about how good sex improves cognitive function or something?”

reid chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with that familiar spark of mischief. “actually, studies show that it releases a significant amount of oxytocin, which can enhance bonding and trust. not that you needed an excuse.”

you rolled your eyes, helping him button up his shirt “trust you to turn this into a science lesson. oh my god you might as well give a damn ted talk on the benefits of cuddling?”

“maybe i will,” he replied, his fingers gently massaging your back. “did you know cuddling for 10 minutes releases enough endorphins to improve mood significantly?”

you let out a dramatic sigh, though a smile tugged at your lips. “spencer reid, you are a fucking nerd, and i mean that affectionately. but at least you’re a nerd with good hands.”

he grinned, shifting a little closer. “i’ll take that as a compliment. besides, i think i deserve some credit for that multitasking earlier.”

you laughed, your head resting against his chest. “okay, fine. you did okay. maybe even a little better than okay.”

“a little?” he scoffed, feigning offense. “i think i deserve more than ‘a little better than okay.’”

reid’s expression turned serious, though his eyes were still light and looked at you with affection. “as much as i’d love to bask in compliments, we do have paperwork to finish.”

you sighed, lifting your head to meet his gaze. “i’ll deal with hotch’s scolding in the morning. for now, how about we skip the paperwork and head to my place?” you pouted, pleading with your eyes and held your hands behind your back, feigning innocence as you waited for his response.

reid’s smile softened, clearly charmed by your playful act. “you know, i don’t think i can say no to that.”

you grinned up at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “this is exactly why you’re my best friend.”

reid smirked, his arms encircling your waist. “glad i’m still in the running for that title.”

he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead before pulling back with a fond glint in his eyes. with a shared laugh, he guided you out of the office. as you both made your way to the parking lot, your giggles echoed in the hallway like a couple of a couple of teenagers sneaking out past dark.

⟢

[codtrashsammy]

This is... love? (Simon Riley x Reader)

- SMUT SMUT SMUT - MDNI MDNI MDNI -

First time writing smut in a loooong time, so bare with me. Had an idea and ran with it. I hope you like it tho!

Simon Riley can fuck. But what about the first time you make love? Word Count: 2.8K

Pairing: Simon Riley x Reader/You

Warnings: crying during sex (not the bad kind tho, promise), explicit sex, p in v, praise (heavy heavy like on god), gentle love making <3 bc our boy can fuck, but what about other stuff too?!

Of course, you’ve fucked. Simon has been your boyfriend for 3 years now, you’re definitely comfortable to explore that part of your relationship now.

Simon has had you bent over every piece of furniture in your flat, has had you in every bed in your house, in the shower, on the floor, a couple of times on the balcony even. He’s had you pinned to walls in sketchy bar bathrooms, he’s had you in the back of his nice looking truck, the bed of that same truck- fuckin’ everywhere. That’s all it’s been, it’s been fucking. Rough, fast- always fucking godly, of course, but it’s primal. Animalistic, and you love it- you truly do love it. But this time you want to do things different. You want to slow it down, you want to fucking relish in the man you’re lucky to call your own. You don’t want to fuck, you want to make love to him. Simon has always been… not exactly averse to your softer affections, as he’s always a very willing participant, but you sometimes notice he seems… overwhelmed. Like he can’t quite handle the raw, genuine emotion behind a soft, tender, lingering touch. His cheeks heat up, he gets this certain look in his eyes, and while he’s never been mean about it- he backs away from it. He shies away from it. 

You’ve tried talking to him about it- you’ve tried many, many times to bring it up to him. And yet the bastard always has a way to switch up the conversation, to change things around, to slip past the topic so easily- he can spin straw into gold with that mouth of his.

So, you’ve decided to take matters into your own hands.

You’re laying in bed, cuddled right up to him, your leg thrown over his hips and an arm thrown over his chest while you lay on your side, your head nestled perfectly in the crook of his arm. Simon’s hand idly plays with the ends of your hair, his arm wrapped around you, simply holding you to him as if to make sure you don’t slip away. 

Simon is seemingly lost in thought, eyes closed and body more or less relaxed- as relaxed as Simon can be when the man is always seemingly on alert to every little sound. 

“Hey, Si,” You murmur out, your fingers idly tracing random shapes against the fabric of his shirt. He hums to let you know he’s heard you, but otherwise doesn’t really react. Fuck, you love this man. You love every inch of him, everything about him. You even love that he always leaves the toilet seat up (you swear he does it out of spite) because you know you’d miss it if he wasn’t around to keep doing it.

“Can I try something?” You ask, tone soft and relaxed, casual. Not at all portraying the thoughts in your head, your secret little ‘mastermind’ plan. 

“Tha’s quite vague, ain’t it, love?” Simon grumbles out, voice low as if to match the atmosphere of simple peace and quiet. “Hmm…” You trail off, a playful smile growing on your face- not that he’s looking to see it, “I think it’s pretty simple. Either yes or no.” You quip with a nod, moving to lean up, resting your weight on your elbows so you can look down at him with a soft, gentle smile. And of course at feeling you move, his arm moves from around your shoulders to around your waist- always touching you, never wanting you far when he’s finally home. (You don’t realize home is you- but of course he’s never quite told you that). Simon’s eyes open at your movement, too. Pretty brown eyes, half lidded in his more-or-less relaxed state as he looks up to meet your gaze, his gaze soft in the way it only ever is for you- his mask resting along the nightstand by the bed. There if he needs it- but it’s rarely needed with you around. A warm light, easily able to lighten up even the darkest depths of his mind to keep his demons at bay.

“....yes?” Simon offers after a few moments of contemplation, a curious look in his own eyes as they scan over your face- looking for a hint of what possible fuckery you could be up to at this point. Your soft smile stretches out into a soft grin as you lean down, pressing your lips to Simon's and letting your eyes flutter shut. One of your hands come up, tracing softly up his chest, up his throat, along his jaw before settling to cup his cheek.

You can feel his breath hitch the slightest bit at the soft touch, the lingering touch. This is the kind of kiss that usually overwhelms him, but maybe he’s in a good mood tonight. Your thumb softly caresses his cheek while your tongues intertwine, and you can feel the moment Simon tries to speed it up.

You pull away, eyes still closed, your lips brushing against his as you speak, “No, no,”

And you promptly place your lips back against his own, not giving him time to start spitting his bullshit about how he’s going to make you see stars if you don’t stop teasing him- because that’s not the goal here. 

You shift your body, moving to straddle Simon's hips (a feat in its own right), keeping one hand cupping his cheek while the other moves to the hem of his shirt, slowly running over the skin above the waistband of his pajama pants, before delving under the fabric and feeling the softness of his tummy, touch so soft and gentle, so loving against his body.

Simon doesn’t know what to think, his own hands seeming to hesitate before they come to rest along your thighs, squeezing the fat there a bit roughly- but that’s okay, you can teach him. 

“Love your hands, Si,” You murmur as you finally pull away from the kiss, only to trail kisses down his jawline, slow and soft, occasionally nipping at the skin.

Simon let's out a grunt, his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs before moving to cup your ass, pushing your body to force your clothed cunt to grind against his already hard cock, and a breathy moan leaves your lips from the stimulation- but damn it, you’re doing this your way this time.

“I’ll stop,” You warn, voice still soft, but there's… an edge to it for once, one stating that you really will.

A soft groan leaves Simon's lips, along with a scoff at the absolute audacity of you, “Love,” Simon says, in warning more than anything. 

“I don’t wanna hear it,” You’re quick to say, before leaning back to meet his pretty, brown-eyed gaze, your hands moving to lift his shirt which he eagerly enough helps with, throwing the fabric away and down to the floor like it was the very thing that killed his family.

…a bit much, but you can understand his eagerness.

“You’re so beautiful, Simon,” You murmur out, eyes filled with nothing but adoration as you trail your hands across the familiar expanse of his chest, fingers running through his chest hair, thumbs brushing over his nipples before trailing down his sides. Your palms run over the subtle softness of his belly, where you know there is muscle hidden underneath.

A hiss leaves Simon's lips, and you can feel his cock twitch from where you’re perched in his lap. “Bloody ‘ell, love, the fuck ya doin?” Simon mutters, hands moving to grab your hips.

“Jus’ be good for me, yeah?” You murmur out, a soft, adoring smile on your face as you finally look up to meet his gaze.

The sight alone is enough to make you pause slightly. He’s not like this when you’re fucking- and you don’t even have his dick in you yet! His cheeks are flushed, not from exertion, he’s just flustered, his bottom lip between his teeth, brows pinched together with pretty glossy eyes. Almost like he could cry- but not quite. 

“You’re always so good for me, Si,” You murmur, grinding your hips against his own and letting out another breathy moan at the feeling, his hands tightening their grip of your hips in response. Just one look and you can tell he’s overwhelmed already- or at the very least getting there. But he hasn’t once told you to stop- he’s simply tried speeding you up, which you have no interest in. Not this time.

You grab his hands, kissing each of his knuckles before slowly dragging them underneath your own shirt, placing his palms against your breasts, his thumbs already swiping at your nipples, at the already peaked buds there. “Always takin’ such good care of me, my love,” You praise, and you reward him with another slow grind, beginning to set such a slow, but lovely pace, just enough friction to make you want more- but that’s the goal. A slow build, no rush, no desperation, just… slow. Loving. Gentle. Tender. Simon visibly gulps, his hands squeezing the flesh of your tits with a groan before he’s tugging your shirt off and adding it to the growing pile on the floor. He tries to buck his hips, tries to get your movements to speed up- but you simply lift up, ending the contact altogether, and send him a pointed look.

“Do ya not want me to fuck ya, love? What’s all this then?” Simon says with a huff, eyes narrowing slightly as they meet your own. Anyone else would say he’s frustrated- and yeah, partly he is. But you know your Simon, you can see that glossiness to his eyes, can see the slightest twitch of his brow- he’s overwhelmed- he’s not sure how to handle this, the softness, the gentleness. Simon likes to say he can’t be soft, can’t be gentle, can’t be loving. But it’s been 3 years with this man- you know he can. He just needs to be taught- it’s simply something he’s never had before, it’s not like he was born with the knowledge. “No,” You answer with a pleased, breathy sigh, resting your hips back against his own and beginning that slow grind once more, feeling his cock twitch at the action. “Don’t wanna fuck, Si. Jus’ be good for me, baby. Jus’ sit here, look pretty for me. Always so good for me. Jus’ let me love you, sweet boy,” You murmur out, eyes meeting his own and holding their gaze.

You trail your hands down his arms along his shoulders and collar bones, quite literally loving every inch of his skin.

Simon’s cheeks get hotter, the look he gives you is entirely overwhelmed, spooked even. Like the thought of being loved is absolutely horrifying alone.

“Be good? Kinda kinky, innit?” Simon mumbles out in response, looking at you with a quirked brow.

But you don’t stop. And he doesn’t stop you.

Clothes continue to fly off, positions change, but somehow you manage to remain in full control for once. And he lets you. Sure, you have to correct him at times, have to remind him to slow down, all with soft smiles and gentle praise- and he eats it up like a starving hound.

Even now, as moans and breathy praise leaves your lips, Simon being vocal, a rarity on it’s own, at least to this extent.

“Feel s’ good around me, love, fuck, so good,” He fucking babbles, his cock dragging along the walls of your drooling cunt at a slow, but steady pace. You’re underneath him now- stereotypical missionary- but it’s divine.

You pull Simon’s head down, pressing his forehead against your own, your legs wrapped loosely around his hips as his cock drags deliciously over all those sweet spots inside, the soft mound above his cock pressing against your clit with every. Single. Thrust.

It’s a slow build up, so slow, and while he focuses on clenching his fists into the sheets above your head, resting on his elbows on either side of it, you focus on touching him, praising him.

“Always so good to me, baby,” You practically purr the words.

“I love you so much, Si, so much,” You say, breathless as your back arches, forehead pressed to his and eyes closed in bliss of the slow building pleasure.

“Like you were made jus’ for me, sweet boy,” Your hands move to wrap around his shoulders, one of them tangling in his hair.

“Love how you make me feel, Simon,” You moan out, legs tightening their grip around his hips.

If your eyes weren’t closed, you’d see how Simon is looking at you right now. Simon is looking at you like you’re a fucking goddess… but the vision is blurry, from the pure overwhelming, unshed tears in his eyes. God, he’s pathetic, isn’t he? Crying? During sex? But he can’t even entertain the thought- thoughtful praise continuing to spill from your lips as he continues his slow, languid, deep thrusts. 

He focuses on the feeling, on the way your words are soothing parts of him he didn’t care to recognize were broken, he focuses on the way your hands trail across his skin so fucking lovingly- as if he’s actually worth something. As if he’s someone and not a monster. As if he doesn’t have hundreds of lives taken by the very hands you praise for touching you.

No- no, none of that matters right now, as for the first time in his fucking life Simon Riley doesn’t fuck- he makes love. 

“God- g-gonna make me cum, Simon- fuck- love the way you make me cum-” You whimper out, back arching into him and fuck, Simon can’t take it anymore.

Simon doesn’t know what to think. Sure, the pleasure is mind-numbing, your pussy always feels so fucking good when it’s wrapped around his cock like this, but it’s damn near tripled by the pure feelings you’re forcing him to feel. The way his chest burns, but it’s so good- he can fucking feel the love you have for him, the way you hold him in your heart, the way you think of him as though he put the very stars in the sky for you and you alone. And he would- fuck he absolutely would. He’d give you the world should you ask for it- fuck he loves you, he loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

He doesn’t speed up- he wants the slower build up, too, doesn’t want to rush it, but he’s going to shatter if more praise leaves your lips so he presses down, slotting his mouth against your own, a minor distraction really.

You can feel the wetness to his cheeks.

You know it’s not sweat.

Your hands move to cup his cheeks so softly, so lovingly, so gently. You moan into his mouth as the pleasure builds until that band finally fucking snaps, and you’re on cloud nine.

Simon buries his head in the crook of your neck, his hot, thick cum shooting ropes into you as your cunt squeezes his cock like a vice, truly milking him for all he’s worth.

You’re both panting, but Simon's head stays hidden- you know why, you can feel the tears against your neck, but you don’t say anything.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you come down from your high, nuzzling your cheek against the top of his head.

“Love you so much,” You whisper out, running a hand through his hair, still slightly breathless.

You can feel Simon place the softest kiss to your neck, arms squeezing you almost too tightly, but you don’t say anything. 

You know your Simon. He’s not a monster. He’s not a killing machine. He’s a man- your man. Simon’s not unlovable, he’s not broken. He’s not stupid for simply not knowing. He’s not stupid for simply needing to be taught.

And you love him. Gods, do you love him. You’ll teach him. You’ll teach him it’s okay, he’s safe here, in your arms. He’s safe to love, to cry, to breakdown, he’s safe to get the very things he’s never had- and you’ll give them willingly.

You don’t know how long you stay like that. His now soft cock still buried in your cunt, his tears have subsided awhile ago, but he’s still unwilling to move from his spot- not that you’re complaining. 

It’s so quiet you barely even hear it, but fuck, you’re so glad you did.

“Love ya,” Simon mumbles against your skin, his voice so quiet, hoarse and rough. But so very soft, so very gentle. Yeah. Simon Riley can fuck like a god. But Simon Riley is learning how to love you fully, how to make love to you fully- and he wouldn’t change a thing. Neither would you.

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae since u said u would be willing to do an ED reader here's a lil idea for James or tasm Peter but them with a gf who had a really bad ED before they met (he doesn't know) and she starts to relapse and he thinks she's just too stressed to eat or something (idk u can pick how the topic comes up) and just her telling him and him comforting her (this is a bit self indulgent bc idk how to tell anyone I'm dating that I'm struggling)

Hi lovely, thank you for your request!

cw: discussion and depiction of eating disorder, anxiety

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 916 words

You don’t seem much up for talking at dinnertime. Which is fine. James can talk for the both of you. 

He prattles on about Sirius’ one-way rivalry with the temp at his work while you cast him half-hearted, flickering smiles and push your food around your plate. He’s made sesame tofu, a first for James but he thought it turned out all right. His plate is clean, whereas yours is all mixed up but he’s fairly sure you’ve only eaten a couple of green beans. 

You don’t appear to notice when he finishes his story. Your fork seems almost limp in your hand. 

“If you don’t like it,” James says lightly, “I don’t mind making you something else, lovely.” 

You look surprised, then guilty. “No, sorry, it’s good.” 

It’s not like you would know, but James isn’t cruel enough to point that out. Aside from his own ego, he has other reasons to suspect his cooking has little to do with this. 

You’ve been strung up tight, lately. There’s a lot going on at work, some conflict with your boss you don’t really want to talk about, and drama in your family you want to talk about even less. James has tried to make home as comfortable and easy for you as he can, but understandably you’ve grown withdrawn, seemingly exhausted all day long. He wishes he knew how to do more for you. Wishes he could cast a bubble of pure goodness to put you inside so the only things that could get to you were the lovely things you deserve. 

“I know you’re stressed,” he says, gently as he can, “but you’ve got to eat, you know? It’s probably cold by now, you could have something else if it’s easier.” 

Something painful twinges in your expression. James reaches for your hand on instinct. 

“I get that you’ve got a lot going on, angel. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but we could.” 

You sigh. “No, it’s…I don’t think it’s what you’re thinking, Jamie.” 

James frowns, but forces himself to stay quiet. He has the familiar sense that all he’s doing is putting his foot in his mouth. 

After a minute, you say quietly, eyes lingering to the side of your plate, “I haven’t always been able to eat properly. It’s been…I’m a lot better about it than I used to be, but it’s still difficult sometimes. Like now.” 

Your hand feels tensed inside of James’. His heart has begun to ache lowly. James thinks he knows the term for what you’re trying to tell him, but he’s not about to lob it at you now, not if it could only make you feel worse. He tries comforting you the surest way he can think of, smoothing his thumb along the side of your hand. 

It at least seems to relax you enough to say more. “You’re not too far off, I guess, because it is sometimes worse when I’m anxious.” You glance up at him tentatively, an attempt at a smile on your lips. “Food’s just a bit more difficult for me right now.” 

“I’m sorry I brought it up like that,” says James, earnestness aching in the back of his throat.

You lift a shoulder. “How could you have known? Sorry I haven’t been eating your cooking.” 

“That’s not your fault, sweetheart.” Your gaze flees his again. Guilt and shame quiet James’ voice. “I’m sorry, I thought you were only stressed.” 

You give a little laugh. “I guess I am stressed.” 

“Yeah, and for good reason, but…can I hug you?” 

You nod, and James gets out of his chair, bending awkwardly to get his arms around you. Your fingertips press into the muscles of his shoulders. 

“It’s not quite so simple as stress, though, is it?” he murmurs into your shirt. 

He feels your chest contract with a sigh. “No,” you admit. 

“What can I do to help?” 

“I don’t think there’s anything you can do, Jamie.”

“Not accuse you of not liking my cooking, though, surely.” 

Another little laugh, this one seemingly more genuine. “Yeah, that would help a bit, actually.” 

James worries about smothering you, backs up enough to see your face. His hands want to go there, too, one for each cheek. 

“Please tell me if you think of anything,” he says. You don’t agree but don’t look away from him either, which James figures is about as good as he’s going to get. “Would it be any easier if we ate in front of the telly?” 

You chew your lip. “It might, yeah. I’m not sure.” 

“You don’t have to make any promises,” he assures you, taking up your plate and bringing it into the kitchen. “Do you want me to reheat this for you? Or we could have something else?” 

You linger at the edge of the kitchen, fingers bundled up in your sleeves. “I’d like to try to finish that, if that’s okay.” 

“Of course it’s okay, m’love. More than okay.” James presses some buttons on the microwave, then turns to you, requisitioning you for another hug. He kisses your hair. “Thank you for telling me.” 

Your voice is soft. “Thank you for listening.”

He scoffs, squeezing you around the middle so that you squeal. “You make it sound like a chore. Don’t be so ridiculous.” James presses another kiss to your hair before releasing you. “Go find something good for us to watch, sweetheart, I’ll be there in a minute.”

[bbystark]

♡ simon is a bad stalker part 2 ♡

badstalker!simon x reader series - pt one three

♡ masterlist ♡ request more! ♡

summary: in which you meet your stalker, but not in the way you thought. mdni

a/n: the response on my last fic?? omg?? crazy. this is for @madzzz0797 and everyone else who requested! i love yall.

simon isn't someone to be stunned. the dude has seen some shit, not much has the capacity to knock the air out of his lungs.

except you, of course. "i want to meet you."

what in the actual fuck.

the words rattle around his skull, and he has to actually brace himself against the wall.

there is actually no way. he shouldn't be surprised, really. despite the fact that you didn't even know his name, he knew everything about you.

he knew the reason you started seeing a therapist wasn't because you were afraid of something happening to you, it was the fact that you didn't know what was going to happen.

above all else you really just hated not understanding what the "why's" in life. of course you weren't going to the police. only you would be primarily focused on figuring out why he was doing what he was doing, personal safety aside.

simon has no idea how to respond, so he simply hangs up. he's suddenly overwhelmed by the consequences of his own actions. he hadn't covered his tracks well because he somehow simply missed the severity what he was doing.

to him his motive was simple; he found you to be one of the only good things left in this world and it was only natural that he tries to protect you from the bad.

but then he realized that to you, some strange man was interfering with your life and literally sending personal drivers to your rescue seemingly out of nowhere.

again, simon thinks, he's completely fucked.

he weighs his options, like he has any. so far, you've taken the situation relatively well, and it seems like the only way he could do any type of damage control is to give you what you want.

on the other hand, he wants to run for the hills. to ghost you, essentially. but he knows he can't for the same reason he started this whole thing in the first place.

simon had an undeniable need to keep you safe and close.

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

when the line goes dead, you audibly say "what the fuck!?" to no one. he's the one stalking you, and he hangs up? what a dick.

then, as you begin to sober, you realize how much of a fucked up situation you're in. you contemplate calling a friend, spilling your guts about everything. then you realize it's 3am, and you should probably go to bed.

the following week you kind of just... go on as usual. you still feel watched, but for some reason you don't feel it as intensely. you wonder if you spooked your own stalker, and the thought almost makes you giggle.

then you come home one day and you immediately know something is off. your cat doesn't greet you as quickly as usual, (something that started when simon started coming around, he knew how much you worried about the thing being lonely, so he took it upon himself to drop by and give it attention every once in a while).

then you see it, a box of pastry on your kitchen table. you drop your purse on the ground, approaching it like it was an explosive.

a pretty little bow is wrapped around it (simon had seen your pinterest, he doesn't understand the bow obsession, but he knows you would like it)

you open the box, a note taped on the lid. it was your favorite croissants from your favorite bakery, and you shiver a little when you realize the box is still warm.

you snatch the note from the lid, shooing your cat away from sniffing at the croissants.

"i'm sorry. we can meet soon, i promise."

you roll your eyes. you can't believe he's suddenly back with a note and pastries like he's an ex you broke it off with.

and then it sinks in, he said you would meet soon.

almost as if on cue, your home computer chimes.

you pick up your cat, clutching to her like she would be any help in the situation. you open your inbox and pale when you see a blocked email.

you open it, almost dropping your cat when you see that it's a zoom link.

your stalker just sent you a zoom link like you were about to have a business meeting. you click the link before you can change your mind, seeing the little pop up that informs you one person is in the meeting.

there was no way you were about to have a meet and greet over zoom with your fucking stalker.

you immediately close out of the tab and walk away, setting your cat down and laughing at the absurdity of the situation. you laugh like a psycho for a long time, your cat throwing you judgmental looks.

then you stop laughing, and you find yourself sitting in front of your computer with your cursor hovering over the 'join meeting' button.

you check one more time that your camera is turned off and will your shaking hand to click the stupid button.

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

simon watches as you laugh, and it does nothing to help calm his nerves. he silently hopes that you choose not to join the stupid video call because he's not even sure he could get any words out if you did.

the zoom was soap's idea, saying it might take the edge off (and the risk of you calling the cops). simon thought it was stupid but reluctantly agreed at the prospect of being one step closer to you.

he's pulled from his thoughts when the annoying doorbell chime lets him know that you did it, you actually joined the meeting. with your camera off, of course, not that it mattered when simon had your whole place bugged anyway.

his heart stops, he sees you staring at the screen, taking in a scarily large man in a mask and hood. he doesn't know where to put his eyes, much less what to say.

you break the ice for him, "this is way fucking weirder than just meeting you in person."

he wants to laugh, but stays silent, watching as you instinctively lean farther and farther away from your screen.

he watches you for a second before responding. "thought it would be easier like this."

for you or for him, you have no idea. you don't ask about the mask, assuming he just didn't want you to be able to identify him.

"yeah okay. um," he watches your face screw up as you try to find the words.

you settle with a simple "what the fuck?"

you watch him as he shifts in his seat, room dark and giving you no hints as to who he was.

"name's ghost." you scoff.

"i-," he stops and collects his thoughts, "i don' wanna hurt you."

you raise an eyebrow. "then what do you want?" he stays silent.

his silence irritates you, and you spur on. "what's the endgame here, ghost? because it's starting to get real fucking weird, i mean if you're gonna murder me eventually just get it over with because these little acts of kindness are driving me fucking insane."

his callsign coming from your lips sends a thrill through him, and he has to really concentrate to respond.

"...didn't really think about it. just know i want to keep you safe."

you balk at him. you had no idea why you thought he would spill his whole manifesto and confess his every thought to you.

"you know what you're doing is wrong right? being in my apartment, following me around? despite the good things you do for me?"

his entire body warms when you acknowledge the small things he's done for you, he revels in the fact that you know he's taking care of you.

"'spose so." a beat "then why are you doing it?"

he doesn't have an answer for you. "listen, ghost. you're going to meet me in person and you're going to have a lot more answers or else-" you find your voice wavering. "or else i will go to the police."

you don't give him time to respond, you simply end the call and or good measure unplug your computer, like it will somehow distance you from what happened.

you go to your bedroom, sitting on your bed heavily. you were shaking, uncontrollable shivers wracking your body.

you had just dug your grave deeper, in your childish and immature quest to understand you had just given your stalker an open invitation to come to you.

you were so fucked.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Domestic fluffy things you say? I’m here to hopefully help with that!

Can we get some cuddling hcs with the Lin Kuei trio? For example are they big on cuddling, favorite cuddle position, how is it like cuddling with them, ext. Just a lil idea I had and thought was cute and simple and classic also I hope you have a better day :)

Tomas Vrbada

Is MASSIVE on cuddling.

He loves it, lives for it, craves it. Cuddling to Tomas is therapeutic and gets his mind off of things that would normally disrupt his ability to get proper sleep.

It helps ground him and redirects his mind to focus on you and how your presence gives him comfort, reassured him of his insecurities and daily stresses, bringing him into a more relaxed state.

His top 3 would have to be;

Honeymoon cuddle

Sweetheart cradle

Good old fashion spooning

They’re all very self explanatory so I ain’t going to go into details. The man just likes holding you okay?

Cuddling either Tomas is bliss. Utter bliss.

He made you forget about everything that had ever concerned you, everything that had caused you pain, fear, anger, despair. He made you believe that everything was alright because you were within his loving embrace and that nothing else should matter.

Even his evened out breathing made you feel calm as it focused your mind onto his breaths, reminding you that lying beneath you was a living, breathing man who’d do anything you could ever possibly ask for and request for nothing in return. Tomas heart was too kind for most people, even you didn’t feel deserving of something so pure and beautiful despite everything he’s seen and done in the past, you were surprised that such a man still exists in this day and age.

So as a solemn vow, you swore to have this every night, not just for you but for Tomas too, where the both of you would be able to shed the worries and daily stresses. Only to eventually forget all about them as you fortified yourselves within the comforting arms of the other; Sleeping more peacefully than either of you had in ages.

Bi-Han

Isn’t massive on cuddling, he doesn’t like anything that might portray him as weak or soft in the slightest.

A mindset he’s developed overtime, repressing any and all childish wants and desires he might’ve had at the earliest convenience. Not wanting any distractions on his road to power. Plus he’s cold in more ways than one because like Kuai Liang, due to his body temperature, it makes something seemingly easy as cuddling difficult all of a sudden.

Even if you did ask hypothetically what his favourite cuddling positions, Bi-Han would probably say ones that requires the least amount of contact on his end:

Back to back - so he can feel that you’re still there.

Back cuddles- you’re the one cuddling up against that broad back of his.

Shoulder to shoulder - same reason as back to back; knowing that you’re still with him.

Cuddling Bi-Han is…something and I don’t mean this negativity but it’s Bi-Han, what else can I say other than cold, rigid, and a little awkward? The man is on guard even in his sleep and cuddling him the way you do doesn’t necessarily help.

Besides that there’s some semblance of companionship when you press your back into his own. It felt as though you had each made a nonverbal pact to have each other’s back in your most vulnerable states; Something that naturally comes with a sense of trust being put in the other and Bi-Han isn’t one to trust blindly.

Cuddling Bi-Han maybe awkward and a little finicky due to the walls this man had put up in order to protect himself from everyone else, he oddly enough made you feel safe, he made you feel guarded and warm, which was weird considering how abnormally cold he was in every possible way. Yet you knew he held honour- or his version of it at least- highly, so you didn’t feel like you’d have to second guess his every actions because that wasn’t the type of man Bi-Han was…

Even though cuddling him was obviously something he wasn’t attuned to, he nonetheless made you feel regarded in his own special way.

Kuai Liang

Kuai Liang runs extremely warm, which could be considered overwhelming or perfect depending on the type of person you are, so whilst he likes contact; he likes to keep it minimal unless told otherwise.

He prioritises your comfortability over his own and understands that his abnormally body heat can be a bit too much at times. Outside of that he’s more than accepting of cuddling.

Kuai Liang’s top 3 favourite cuddling positions would have to be ones that were less on the physical context but unlike Bi-Han, it typically ends up with him cuddling you in some form of him protecting you:

Leg hug- incase you get overwhelmed by his body heat and need space but also wanting to keep touching some part him.

Face to face - this one’s a personal favourite of his because he loves waking up and falling asleep to your face.

Chest rest -the one where your heads on his chest and he’s keeping you in place with his arms.

Cuddling Kuai Liang is warm and secure because when you’re in his arms, feeling his warmth deep into you just as his arms tightened their grip, you’ve never felt more protected in your life then you did in Kuai Liang’s hold.

You never had to worry about being hurt, especially when Kuai Liang was there to shield you from all possible forms of harm; nor the way he always had his back facing towards the door so that if something were to happen then he was able to keep you safe with his body.

It was his duty to protect you, as he would often say whenever you asked him why this was.

You couldn’t act as though his declaration didn’t have your heart melting into a puddle.

So now you just allow his warmth to consume you like a thick, warm, weighted blanket that blocked out any and all cold that threatened to try and get to you; all the while you snuggled closer into him because despite every last part of you touching every last part of him wasn’t enough, you needed to be even closer to him. You wanted your souls to touch and feel the presence of the other but since you physically couldn’t do that, you settled for forehead touches instead. It was just as intimate after all.

[fallinallincurls]

home is just another word for you

here is my entry for the summer fic exchange 2k24 hosted by @wyattjohnston !! thank you for doing this as always demi. this fic is for the lovely @puckology101 ! i had so much fun writing for nico again and hope you love how this turned out!

title is from "you're my home" by billy joel and you can find the entire playlist for this fic here!

hope you enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated! xx

word count: 4.9k+

“Jack, it’s not that simple. I can’t go.” You say for what feels like the millionth time, but your best friend either hasn’t been paying attention or is blatantly ignoring you.

“Yes you can! Look, you just spent months working yourself to the bone over that huge project at work which, if I have to remind you, was a major success. You don’t just deserve a break, you need one. And this is the perfect opportunity!”

“An entire summer in Switzerland with your captain?”

“Yes!” Jack repeats with excitement, happy you’re finally understanding what he’s been trying to get through your head since this whole idea came to be. That bright, beaming smile of his blossoms across his lips and he has that childlike wonder in his eyes. “Switzerland is beautiful and there’s no one better to go with than Nico. He obviously knows all the best places. Plus, he invited you so I don’t see the problem here.”

Although you would love to spend the entire summer in a gorgeous country with an equally attractive and charming man, the problem is that you’re in love with Nico Hischier and no one knows it.

At least that’s what you thought.

An entire summer with him sounds like a dream because it means endless time with him away from hockey and in his element at home. But at the same time, an entire summer with him sounds like torture because he would be that much closer to you at all times and still not yours.

“I’d love to make a full vacation out of it, trust me a break sounds absolutely perfect after finally finishing the project. But I can’t shake the feeling that I’d be intruding. You guys already rarely get to go home and see family during the season, even worse for players like Nico whose family is much farther away.”

“Y/N,” Jack says, silencing your rambling. Without hesitation you meet his gaze and wait for what he has to say. “You wouldn’t be intruding. Nico wants you there. He invited you for a reason and going on vacation is a normal thing good friends do together, you know.”

“I’ll think about it.” You decide, promising that you will put thought into it before telling Nico what your decision is. That’s seemingly enough for Jack as he drops the subject after that, but you are oblivious to his giddy grin. It would’ve been a dead giveaway that he knows your secret.

~~~~~

In the end, you decide to turn your trip to Switzerland with Nico into a European summer extrusion. After spending the first two months with him, you are going to visit all the other countries and cities that have been on your bucket list for years. That way you’re not in his way when his training ramps up again for the new season while getting the chance to explore parts of the world you’ve always wanted to see before going back home to Jersey.

Nico, of course, was ecstatic when you accepted his offer to come back home with him. Two months of uninterrupted time with his favorite person in his favorite place is a dream come true. 

Everything was set and going perfectly according to plan until you both headed towards the right gate in the airport. 

No matter where you’re going or how long the trip, you always make sure to pack comfy clothes as it makes you feel more at ease when traveling. There was nothing different this time, except you put the worn and well loved hoodie in your checked luggage, not your carry-on. 

As the realization settles in, a pout appears on your face. Nico, ever observant, notices the change in your demeanor right away. 

“What’s wrong?” Nico asks softly, nudging you a little with his elbow as you both shuffle forward in the line for coffee. You shrug in response, not wanting to come clean about something so silly. Before Nico can push any further, you’re the next up to order so his insistence at finding out what the problem is has to wait a few minutes.

But the moment you both have your drinks in hand, Nico cuts right to the point.

“Okay, spill. What is it?” 

You can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of your lips because 95% of the time, your best friend looks like the human equivalent of a golden retriever. Which means when he uses his “captain voice” and is all business, it’s almost hard to take him seriously. 

“I packed my comfy travel hoodie in my actual luggage instead of my carry-on so I can’t wear it on the flight like I usually would. That’s all.” You haven’t even finished speaking before Nico stops walking, plops his backpack down on a nearby seat and pulls something out. “What are you-”

“You can wear mine,” Nico cuts you off, the sweetest smile gracing his lips as he holds out his favorite black Kith hoodie. “I packed it as an extra for you anyway, just in case this happened.” 

For a moment, you’re speechless. Nico is always looking out for you in the little ways, he has been since you became friends, but this has your heart softening like never before. It also confirms that spending the next two months with him is only going to make your feelings for him grow, not disappear. 

“Thank you, Nico. That’s so sweet of you.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal, but the shy smile on his face gives away how proud he is to be there for you. 

"How do you always know exactly what I need?" You wonder aloud, snuggling into the warm fabric of Nico’s beloved sweatshirt as you both settle into chairs next to each other in front of the correct gate. A moment of silence passes and you don’t expect Nico to respond until three soft words slip past his lips. 

"I pay attention."

The way your heart seizes right then is enough evidence that you’re madly in love with your best friend, but in an effort not to reveal your emotions, you just look up and give him the softest smile full of gratitude.

Nico squeezes your knee fondly before you both settle in, anticipation and excitement for your flight to his home country growing with each passing second.

~~~~~

Switzerland is gorgeous. Pictures don't do it justice at all. From the moment you stepped out of the airport a few weeks ago to where you are right now, sitting at a table with Nico and his family in the backyard, you haven’t stopped being amazed that somewhere this beautiful exists.

Over the last three weeks or so, you’ve spent almost every waking moment with Nico. You met his family, who all instantly loved you, especially his older sister, Nina. Days have been filled with visiting tourist attractions and some of Nico’s favorite places all over the country. Nights are usually spent snuggled up for a movie or around a fire, laughing with Nico’s siblings and friends. You have tried so many new things from experiences to foods and everything in between. 

Although you hate to admit it, Jack was right. Going home with Nico was everything you needed and more.

A soft smile blossoms across your lips as you filter through all the memories you’ve already made on this trip. Your heart is full of nothing but happiness and you owe that to Nico. 

“What are you thinking about?” Nico’s deep voice suddenly snaps you back to the present. A quick glance around the table confirms that no one but your best friend noticed the dreamy expression that was probably on display on your face.

“Nothing,” You shake your head in response, but your smile doesn’t budge and that’s when you realize Nico’s hand is resting on your thigh. “I’m just really happy to be here. It’s been amazing.”

Nico’s pretty brown eyes light up at your answer and that sweet smile you love so much appears on his face, dimples and all. God, how can someone be this perfect?

“This is easily the best summer I’ve had in a long time and that’s because you’re here.” Nico admits, each word full of vulnerability. That same feeling of hope and adoration rush through your veins again even though you know he’s just being honest. You can’t deny how that one sentence makes you the happiest person in the world.

There have been more times than you could count throughout this trip where it seemed like Nico was hinting at something more. He’s been extra attentive to you from the moment you both left New Jersey, always making sure you’re okay and have everything you need. His gaze has lingered on you for longer than necessary on several occasions, causing you to blush like never before. But those small touches that have become a constant in your friendship is what makes you realize that it might be possible Nico feels the same way as you.

When you met his closest friends from home, his hand rested on your lower back in almost a protective manner. He never hesitates to hold your hand when moving through a crowd so he doesn’t lose you. Every time you both eat dinner with his family, like this very moment, he always has a hand on your thigh under the table or he’s tracing little shapes on the inside of your wrist. 

But despite all the signs, you’re still too scared to admit your feelings and Nico hasn’t made any move to confess anything either. So you take note of every little thing he does for or around you, hoping that deep down it leads to what you’re hoping for. 

But despite all the signs, you’re still too scared to admit your feelings and Nico hasn’t made any move to confess anything either. So you take note of every little thing he does for or around you, hoping that deep down it leads to what you’re hoping for. 

You’re not the only one who notices though. Nina is just exceptionally good at schooling her expression before you or her younger brother can see she’s aware something is going on between the two of you. 

“Next summer we’ll have to make sure the Cup comes back with us and then it’ll be the best summer of your life.” You giggle, but Nico’s brows raise in surprise.

“Already making plans to come back next summer?” He asks with curiosity. Of course, he would love to spend these precious months with you again next year. It just catches him off guard that you’re thinking about that too.

“Yeah, of course I am, but with the Cup. That’s your end of the deal to hold up.” You respond with a playful poke to his chest, not picking up on how much that simple sentence means to him. 

“I think I can manage that.” Nico chuckles, eyes twinkling with happiness as he pulls you closer to his side before you both rejoin the conversation that’s happening around you. 

“Nico, what do you two have planned for this week?” Nina asks while reaching for her glass of wine. You completely miss the way Nico shoots silent daggers at his sister from across the table, but you catch the sweet smiles both of his parents are sporting. 

“We’ve got a chocolate tour booked, a few days to cover everything in Zurich and finally going to bring Y/N to one of my favorite places nearby.” Nico recites, mentally ticking off the activities that he planned for both of you to do throughout the upcoming week. 

“Oh! Make sure you go to some of the museums in Zurich. They’re all so interesting.” Nico’s mom chimes in with excitement. You nod and make a mental note to look up some of the museums that are in the city so you and Nico can visit a few. 

“We definitely will! I remember reading about some of them when I was doing research for the trip. Do you have any favorites?”

As Nico’s family begin debating the best museums to visit in Zurich, the sun continues to set and you find yourself leaning more and more against Nico’s shoulder, the exhaustion of another busy, but well spent day catching up to you. 

“Sleepy?” Nico asks in a teasing, but soft tone. He rubs a hand up and down your back in a soothing way that relaxes you even further.

“A little,” You admit, glancing up at Nico through your lashes and catching sight of that gorgeous smile of his. Butterflies erupt in your stomach again. You can’t deny how happy you are right now.

While stuck in your dazed thoughts, Nico must’ve told his family you’re both heading in for the night because all of them are saying goodnight as Nico gently nudges you to stand before leading you inside. 

And as you settle in for bed in the guest room where you’ve been staying since arriving in Switzerland, nothing but excitement about the upcoming week rushes through your veins while the soft warmth of love fills your heart.

~~~~~

“Something is up, Jack. I’m telling you. And it’s not just in my head because I have a crush or whatever. I don’t think he could make it more obvious without saying anything.” You say quietly into the phone while pacing the boat dock on the lake behind the Hischier’s house.

“I’m not going to act surprised because I’m not. Anyone who knows Nico knows that he has a thing for you. It’s probably just easier for him to show you how he feels back at home with no pressure on his shoulders, you know?” Jack replies with actual logic for once even though you can’t see the huge grin on his face since he’s on a whole other continent. 

“But what am I supposed to do?” Exasperation is clearly evident in your voice. “All these things seem like signs but what if I admit how I feel and it’s not what I have been thinking this whole time?”

Jack lets out a small sigh, but tries to figure out a way to steer his two best friends to each other once and for all.

“Just give him some more time. You have two weeks left there before you travel to Italy, right?”

“Yup.”

“He’ll say something before then. Trust me, it’s Nico. You and I both know he does things in his own way, but he knows what he wants.” Jack reassures you with a small chuckle and that’s enough to put a smile on your face again.

“Yeah, you’re right. Okay, I’ve gotta go. We’re supposed to be going to one of his favorite spots that he’s been dying to show me and I have to get ready. But thanks for the advice, Jacky.” 

“Anytime. Bring me back a Toblerone will you?” 

You’re shaking your head as goodbyes are exchanged before the call ends. As soon as you turn around to head back towards the house, you spot Nico on the deck waiting for you. He gives a goofy wave and that stunning smile of his is easy to see even from where you are. 

“Ready to go soon?” Nico asks when you step up next to him, not hesitating a second to wrap an arm around your shoulders. “Want to make sure we get there at the perfect time to catch the sunset since that’s the best part.”

“I’ll be all ready to go in ten minutes, tops.” You say with a smile, enjoying the feeling of being so close to him. A million thoughts race through your mind again, but you push them all away to soak in this simple moment.

“Was that Jack on the phone?” You don’t miss the hint of laughter in Nico’s deep voice.

“Who else would be calling me? I gave him the rundown of how amazing Switzerland is and he wants me to bring back a Toblerone for him.” 

“Of course he does.” Nico chuckles, that beautiful sound bringing you a kind of happiness you can’t find anywhere else. 

As you change into a comfy, but flattering outfit, you can’t help but wonder again where Nico is bringing you today. The only hint he’s given about the destination is that he’s loved the place since he was little and it’s special to him. A mixture of excitement and nerves rush through you as Jack’s words repeat through your head at the same time.

Anyone who knows Nico knows that he has a thing for you.

Do they really?

But it’s then that a collection of moments come back to you. The way Jack started insisting you get a ride home from Nico after games instead of riding back with him. How Nina looks at you with a glimmer in her eyes that looks like joy despite the fact you just met her this summer. The nights you’ve spent talking to Nico’s mom while looking through photo albums and watching his cheeks become rosy with blush when she pointed out the embarrassing snapshots. The way all his teammates just started to assume you’d be his plus one to any event the team had to attend after you accompanied their captain to one gala.

Ohmygod. Somehow, Jack was right again. Nico’s feelings for you have been obvious to everyone else but you this whole time.

Taking a deep breath, you push the life-changing revelation to the back of your mind before grabbing your bag and heading downstairs to meet Nico for his planned adventure that remains a mystery.

A dimpled smile blossoms across Nico’s lips the moment he sees you, making him look impossibly handsome. He’s wearing jeans and a simple t-shirt but somehow he still has your heart skipping a beat at the sight of him. 

“Hi,” As soon as the single syllable leaves your lips, you’re mentally face palming. There are a thousand things to say, yet that’s what you went with?

“Hi, sunneschii.” Nico responds, slipping into his native language for a second to use his favorite term of endearment for you. Sunshine. The blush that spreads across your cheeks is unstoppable which just makes Nico even happier. He’s so in love with you and he still doesn’t know how you can’t tell yet. It’s obvious to everyone else but the one person who matters. “Ready to go?” With a nod acting as your reply, Nico holds his hand out for you to take and leads you to the car.

As Nico’s playlist flows from the speakers and the warm summer air fills the car thanks to the windows being rolled down, you both get lost in conversation together. Nico points out places along the drive that hold any kind of significance to him and that fuzzy feeling is present in your heart again. For a brief moment, you can picture this being your life every summer. Coming back to Switzerland to spend the offseason with the brown eyed sweetheart who happens to be a professional ice hockey player and the man you love. But as much as you’d like that, it can only stay a dream for now.

Without even realizing how much time has passed, Nico is parking the car in a small lot that is blanketed in shade from the enormous but breathtaking castle sitting atop a small hill. 

“Wow,” You whisper in shock, which makes Nico chuckle.

“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet. Come on,” He teases, quickly getting out of the car and rounding the hood to open the passenger side door for you. 

As you step out of the car, hand in Nico’s, you gaze up at the beautiful building. There’s nothing like this back in Jersey and you’re struck by the absolute beauty of the place that Nico gets to call home. Then another strike of emotion hits you because this is somewhere that he’s made clear is special to him and he brought you here. 

“Nico, this place is-”

“Gorgeous?” He finishes your sentence, smiling at you while still leading you to the courtyard in the middle of the castle. “Yeah, I know. I had to make sure you saw it before you continue on the rest of your trip through Europe. Nothing else in the world compares.”

You nod in silent agreement, still too in awe of your surroundings to say much else. Except when the courtyard comes into view, the sunset framed beautifully between the columns that face out over the countryside, your breath hitches.

There has never been a sight so stunning as this.

 “Ohymygod,” You murmur, at a total loss of words. Nico’s sweet laugh fills the air at your amazed reaction and that’s when you realize how close the two of you are. He’s standing right next to you, arm brushing against yours with each little movement and you can feel his gaze on you without even looking over. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“Take a picture. It won’t do it any justice, but at least you’ll have proof that this is real.” Nico suggests softly, watching as you pull your phone out to capture the breathtaking view in front of you. After you take a few photos and turn back to admire the sunset, Nico nudges you playfully before holding his phone up in position for a selfie.

“Neeks,” You giggle, leaning into him. “The view is that way!” 

“Yeah, right.” He teases back, snapping bursts of photos that capture the two of you smiling and laughing together and even one of Nico pressing a light kiss to your temple. The blush that spreads across your cheeks is undeniable and he definitely notices the effect that small act has on you. 

After Nico puts his phone away again, a moment of comfortable silence settles as he keeps you close thanks to his arm being wrapped comfortably around your waist. 

“Y/N,” Nico whispers so gently you almost don’t hear him.

“Mhm,” You respond, pulling your eyes away from the sun sinking in the horizon to look at the man next to you. 

“I have to tell you something. I’ve already waited too long to say and can’t wait any longer.”

Immediately, your heart starts to race but you try to stay calm. A mixture of nerves and excitement rush through your veins as you nod in encouragement for him to keep talking. He reaches for your hand, giving it a little squeeze, before taking a deep breath and flashing that dimpled smile you love.

“I’m in love with you.” Nico says simply, his voice heavy with emotion. His brown eyes are full of adoration as he looks at you and it’s impossible to explain the feeling of elation you’re experiencing right now. “I have been for years, but haven’t told you because I didn’t want to ruin the friendship we had. But having you here, at home, with me has made it clear that I can’t keep telling myself that being friends with you is enough anymore. Because it isn’t. I want to start and end every day with you by my side. I want to see you in the crowd at home games wearing my last name and the number 13 proudly on your back. I want to do life with you, Y/N. All of it.”

In the few seconds it takes for you to process his confession, the words you’ve been waiting to hear for months, Nico gets nervous. What if the two of you are only destined to be friends and he just ruined everything? But before his thoughts can spiral any further, the most beautiful smile blossoms across your lips and Nico feels his heart soar.

“What if I told you I feel the exact same way? And all I want to do right now is kiss you?”

You catch a glimpse of the huge grin on Nico’s face before he scoops you up in his arms and presses his lips to yours. The kiss is sweet and passionate, a silent exchange of all the words that have been left unsaid over the years. You melt into him, feeling at home more than ever before, with nothing but pure happiness surrounding the two of you.

Finally.

When you both reluctantly pull away, Nico cradles your cheek in his hand, eyes never leaving yours. Nothing else in the world matters right now except for the man in front of you.

“You have no idea how happy I am.” Nico murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then your nose and then your lips again. 

“I think I do.” You giggle, trying desperately to remember every detail of this very moment. The picturesque sunset painting the castle in a warm orange glow, the pure unfiltered joy on display across Nico’s face, how right it feels to be held in his arms. 

It doesn’t take long for the sun to fully disappear on the horizon and with another kiss, because now Nico can’t help it, he leads you back to the car to head back home. But this time as more than friends.

~~~~~

When you arrive back at the Hischier's house, it’s quiet. Either everyone is already asleep or in the backyard around the fire like usual, but you and Nico don’t give it another thought. With your hand in his, you both head upstairs with giddy smiles and hearts full of adoration.

“Go get what you need from the guest room.” Nico says with a nod towards the door of the room you’ve been staying in for the last month and a half. The silent implication hangs in the air, giving you that jolt of excitement all over again.

So you do exactly that. You grab the necessities for the night, which includes the comfy hoodie Nico gave you at the airport that you somehow haven’t given back yet, and pad down the hall to his childhood bedroom. 

Both of you partake in the quiet dance of getting ready for bed with a sense of nerves knowing that the confessed emotions are still new, but you catch glimpses of trophies, medals and pictures that capture the years and years of his hockey career scattered all across the room. A soft smile tugs at your lips at just how stuck in time this one room feels, yet somehow that makes your love for him grow infinitely more. 

Nico settles in the bed, opening his arms wide for you as a small yawn escapes past his lips. You giggle at the sight and after pulling his hoodie on, you don’t have a moment of hesitation in joining him. His embrace is strong and comforting, a feeling you could get used to. Nico drops a tender kiss to the top of your head as you settle in against him, his warmth completely enveloping you.

“Thank you,” You whisper, the words full of meaning as you look up with wonderstruck eyes and brush that one stubborn piece of hair off his forehead. He’s so undeniably perfect it’s hard to believe he’s real sometimes. “And I’m going to wash this hoodie and give it back to you as soon as possible.”

“Oh, please keep it. I like you wearing it.” Nico murmurs back, one hand beginning to rub up and down your back.

“Really? I thought it was your favorite one.”

“It was. Before I saw you wearing it. So it’s yours now.” He says so easily, voice steady and confident with a touch of cheekiness.  

With your heart full to the brim with love and nothing but pure happiness running through your veins as sleep pulls you under, you realize this is the last place you expected to be during your trip to Switzerland with Nico. But you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

~~~~~

You wake in the morning to the familiar sound of muffled conversation and bright summer sunlight filtering through the windows. Nico’s head rests on your chest with his arms wrapped around you. His hair is tousled and his lips are parted a tiny bit as he continues to sleep peacefully. The cozy moment is like a dream, one you never want to end.

But of course, the time to return to “real life” comes after Nico wakes up and greets you with that adorable smile. That’s when the slightest fear sets in about how to greet his family downstairs as if nothing drastic has changed between the two of you in the last 24 hours.

Lucky for you, Nico makes the decision himself. With a few sweet kisses and reassuring words, he intertwines his fingers with yours before leading you down to the kitchen. As the voices grow louder with each step, you calm yourself and focus on the man in front of you. 

He’s yours now. After all this time.

When you both enter the kitchen, hand in hand, no one bats an eye. At first you think they don’t notice, which seems impossible especially when Nico kisses your temple, but you realize as Nico’s mom pushes a mug of coffee towards you and when that signature smirk never falls from Nina’s face that they all saw this coming. They were simply waiting for the two of you to finally get together just like Jack has been.

“Danke, meine liebe." Nico’s mom murmurs softly in her native language while pulling you in for a hug as everyone else is focused on making breakfast. Thank you, my love. “He’s always deserved to be happy and I know he will be with you. Whether that’s here or in New Jersey or anywhere else. You’re his home.”

And when you look at Nico whose smile couldn’t be any brighter than it is right now as he admires you, you realize that at some point over the last few years, he’s become your home too. The place where you feel safe, the most like yourself and loved unconditionally. 

A place you never have to leave now.

[embbarnes]

Rinse Cycle.

summary: Bucky pulls his arm from the dishwasher and you love how warm it is.

warnings: Smut | 18+ MDNI | TB*!Bucky | Fingering | Dirty talk | Swearing | Groping | Nipple play | Teasing | Orgasm denial (you do finish in the end hehe)

a/n: Thunderbolts* trailer has me feral af. I have so many ideas I want to write, but this is a start. I didn't mean for this to get so long but maybe that's just Bucky pulling more passion out of me. I need him. We don't know how he's going to act in the movie so I just sort of winged it from what the trailer provided. Unedited. ;; wc: 5.8k

It was chore day. You hated chore day.

The monotony of it all felt suffocating, an endless cycle of tedious tasks that seemed to pile up endlessly. Dishes stacked in the sink, laundry overflowing from the hamper, bathroom in dire need of scrubbing, kitchen counters cluttered with remnants of meals past, and trash threatening to spill over - it all felt like an insurmountable mountain of responsibilities.

The weight of these mundane tasks pressed down on you, a constant reminder of the adulting you'd been avoiding. But there was no escaping it any longer; you had procrastinated to the very limit of what was tolerable.

You tried not to be too hard on yourself about the state of things. Both you and Bucky struggled with mental health and that often made seemingly simple tasks, like washing dishes or tidying up, feel overwhelmingly difficult. You both understood this struggle and did your best to help one another out. You developed a system and worked together, splitting household chores as a team when possible. But you both had your days where you couldn’t contribute as much, so it was up to the other to carry it.

With a heavy sigh, you began the dreaded process by gathering the scattered laundry. Your movements were deliberately quiet as you crept into the bedroom where Bucky was currently taking a heavy nap. His face, usually etched with worry lines, appeared peaceful for once. You couldn't help but pause for a moment, taking him in, his features and how beautiful he was to you. It was a stark contrast to the terrorized nights you'd both endured, filled with his restless tossing and turning.

Thankfully, the relentless nightmares he suffered from had become less frequent since you'd started sharing the bed. It had been a slow process, watching him migrate from the cold, hard floor, to the slightly more comfortable couch, and finally to the warmth and safety of your shared bed.

You often slept with him before his migration, napping on the floor during the night or on the couch while he remained on the floor. You both laid together on the couch, but you also slept separately. Now, you were just glad he had finally moved into bed with you.

He was curled up in bed, his form a picture of peaceful slumber. His messy hair framed his face, giving him an endearing, boyish look. His mouth was slightly open, soft breaths escaping in a gentle rhythm, and his metal arm was absent from his body. It wasn't an uncommon thing, as he occasionally removed it when he slept, he said sometimes it feels better without the weight of it straining his back muscles when he laid down. Bucky really only did this when he felt truly safe and secure in his surroundings, aka, only around you and in your shared home. The missing prosthetic wasn't on the bedside table where he usually placed it, so he must be cleaning it.

You gathered the scattered laundry from around the room so you could leave him to his nap, creating a neat pile in your arms. Making your way to the laundry area, you passed the kitchen and saw the rinse cycle on the dishwasher, figuring his arm was in there. You threw the dirty clothes into the washing machine when you reached it, setting it to run. There was a load of dry clothes waiting to be dealt with, so you folded these items and set them aside for later. Your next task took you to the bathroom, where you began the process of cleaning and tidying. You finished scrubbing just in time to come out and see Bucky standing at the dishwasher.

Bucky looked absolutely precious when he woke up, despite his usual brooding when you fawned over him so sweetly, his tousled hair framing his face in a messy halo, and his eyes still heavy with sleep. His expression was one of endearing drowsiness that only comes from a deep slumber. When his gaze finally focused on you, a flicker of realization crossed his features. In an adorable attempt to appear more presentable, he quickly turned to the sink, fumbling slightly with the faucet before running his hand under the cool stream of water.

"Hey doll..." he mumbled, his voice still rough with sleep. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sleep for longer than an hour." His hand continued to run through his disheveled hair, attempting to tame the unruly strands. The water caused his dark locks to stick up at odd angles, somehow making him look even more endearing. "Guess I needed it more than I thought..." he added sheepishly, a small, apologetic smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"You've been pushing yourself so hard lately, Bucky. Your body was probably crying out for a break," you replied softly, your voice filled with understanding and affection. You made your way around the sleek granite counter, each step bringing you closer to him. A warm smile spread across your face, your eyes twinkling with amusement at his disheveled state and hurried attempt to tame his hair. He decided to grow it out a while ago, he liked having you play with it, and his shorter hair didn’t feel as satisfying when your fingers carded through it.

"So..." you began, your tone taking on a playful lilt. "I see you put it in the dishwasher again, huh?" A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you gestured towards the kitchen appliance, your eyes dancing with mirth. It was a recurring joke between the two of you, one day he forgot to tell you about his arm and you were shocked to find it in there.

He opened the dishwasher and pulled out the bottom rack, his eyes immediately drawn to the peculiar sight of a metallic arm nestled beside two off-white ceramic plates. The sight of the advanced prosthetic among mundane kitchenware was both amusing and slightly absurd to you. "Do not tell me you ran a whole cycle and there were only two plates in there..." You groaned softly, a mixture of exasperation and disbelief coloring your voice. Your reaction elicited a low, rumbling chuckle from him, the sound warm and slightly mischievous.

"Maybe." Bucky's response was accompanied by a playful smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth. He reached into the dishwasher and carefully retrieved his steaming vibranium arm, the advanced metal still radiating intense heat from the cleaning cycle. The heather black surface of the arm was a striking contrast against his skin, with intricate gold accents peeking through the articulated plates, creating a mesmerizing interplay of light and shadow.

As he deftly maneuvered the prosthetic towards his shoulder, the air seemed to hum with anticipation. The arm's sensors flickered to life, bathing the immediate area in a soft, ethereal violet glow. Bucky aligned the arm with his shoulder socket, and in one fluid motion, it locked into place with a satisfying click. The plates of the arm began to shift and recalibrate, the movement reminded you of a living organism adapting to its environment. You remembered once you had made the comparison to a caterpillar squiggling across a leaf.

He threw his arm in a quick, fluid motion, the circular movement causing a sudden surge of heat to radiate through your core. The soft grunt that escaped his lips as his arm swung through the air didn't go unnoticed by you. You found yourself moving closer to him without any sort of cause, your body responding instinctively to the simple action.

The arm still retained the warmth from the cycle it ran through, you could feel the radiating heat even from a short distance away. Vibranium was notorious for holding and distributing kinetic energy, this also applied to heat and cold. Unable to resist, your fingertips delicately grazed over the smooth, metallic surface. A shiver ran down your spine as you felt the temperature of the arm in comparison to your cooler skin.

Bucky's piercing gaze followed your every movement, his eyes immediately drawn to the telltale flush that had begun to spread across your cheeks. A knowing smirk played at the corners of his mouth as he observed your reaction.

"Ah...what's wrong, sweetheart..." he murmured, his voice low and husky, carrying that unmistakable teasing tone that you had come to recognize all too well. It was a tone that never failed to set your heart racing, a prelude to the passionate encounters that often followed. The air between you crackled with unspoken tension, you shuffled in place and felt your legs squeeze together for some kind of friction.

"Nothing..." you huffed out, your voice much quieter than anticipated, barely above a whisper. "Your arm is just... so warm. It feels nice…"

"Does it?" he inquired, his tone a mixture of curiosity and amusement, the gentle lilt in his voice made your heart flutter ever so slightly.

Your mind began to wander, racing with vivid thoughts of how his arm would feel against your body. You imagined his strong hand tenderly caressing your back, his fingers tracing delicate patterns as they ran down your spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. The mental image continued, his touch ghosting over the curve of your ass, his hands gently massaging your thighs, kneading away any tension and replacing it with a tingling sensation that spread throughout your body.

Or simply Bucky holding you close, his warmth enveloping you completely when you felt a little chilly, providing not just the physical comfort you craved from him but also a sense of safety and belonging, something you had always struggled with before you met.

He had done all of that countless times before, yet for some reason, with the arm radiating a warmth significantly more intense than its usual room temperature coolness, a deep, tingly sensation began to stir deep within your core. You found yourself swallowing hard, your gaze slowly lifting to meet his.

You guided his hand towards your neck, Bucky's eyebrow raised ever so slightly at your action. But, he wasn’t stupid. He unfurled his palm, allowing his fingertips to caress your skin with a delicate touch. The feather-light contact sent shivers down your spine, once he felt your body give him that little shiver, he encircled your throat with his fingers, maintaining a loose yet unmistakably present grip. His voice was low and husky, leaning down a bit until his lips grazed the shell of your ear. "What do you want, babydoll?"

"I...want...to feel your hand." You rasped in response, your voice thick with desire. A wave of heat coursed through your body, pooling between your legs as his voice sent shivers down your spine. Your body responded to him instantly, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation. Unable to resist the magnetic pull, you shuffled closer to him, your hands splaying across his broad chest. The fabric of his shirt did little to mask the warmth radiating from his skin, and you found yourself growing more desperate with each passing second, craving the feeling of him close to you.

Bucky chuckled, the low rumble in his chest vibrating against your palms. His scruff tickled your cheekbone as he leaned in, laying a hasty but tender kiss to your temple. The brief contact left your skin burning, yearning for more, like a drug being given and suddenly taken away. His metal hand moved down your body with agonizing slowness, the fucker did it on purpose to tease you more. He gently teased the sensitive skin just above your shorts, his fingers dancing along the waistband before sliding beneath your top.

While your skin was feverish, the touch of the very hot vibranium felt electrifying against you. Normally, the touches from his hand would tickle, raising goosebumps in their wake from the cold metal. But now it felt incredibly comforting and arousing all at once. The warmth spreading through your body was addictive, a delicious heat that you couldn't get enough of. He continued caressing you with a gentle and possessive touch, you arched into his hand in response, silently begging for more.

You couldn't suppress the soft whimper that escaped your lips as his hand continued its tantalizing journey across your abdomen. His fingers danced along your skin, deliberately brushing against your sensitive sides, making you quiver. His trail was agonizingly slow, but his touch ascended, finally reaching the delicate area just beneath your breasts. Your breath was caught in your throat, and he stopped moving his hand completely, having it instead rest still on your skin and the area turning a bit red from the heat.

"You want more?" His voice, low and husky, cut through the tension-filled air. His icy blue eyes locked onto yours, piercing through to your very core. There was amusement dancing in those glacial depths as he observed your flushed face and quickened breathing. He was clearly enjoying the effect he had on you, reveling in the way your body responded to his touch. Bucky was always super cheeky when it came to making you like this, he took great pride in turning your legs into Jell-O.

You weren’t able to form coherent words, your mind clouded thickly with desire. His mere presence was intoxicating, and the light caresses he had bestowed upon you were enough to reduce you to that quivering mess he was so eager to see. You were putty in his hands, desperate for more of his touch and he had barely begun.

Already, you were teetering on the edge of losing all self-control.

"Bucky, please, I can't handle this teasing anymore," you whimpered softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Your breath had become increasingly rapid and shallow as waves of adrenaline coursed through your body, setting every nerve ending alight with anticipation. The mere thought of his hand, that powerful, yet gentle hand, exploring your most sensitive and intimate areas made you feel increasingly wet.

Bucky's fingers found the hem of your top and he paused for a moment, his eyes locked with yours, silently asking for permission. At your almost imperceptible nod, he began to lift the fabric, revealing inch by tantalizing inch of your skin. The cool air of the room kissed your newly exposed flesh, adding to the sensory overload you were already experiencing. He pulled the garment completely over your head and carelessly tossed it aside, where it landed in a forgotten heap on the floor.

Now bare from the waist up, you felt a moment of vulnerability as Bucky's intense gaze roved over your exposed chest. His stormy blue eyes darkened with desire, drinking in every curve and contour of your body as if committing it to memory. The weight of his stare ignited a fire deep within you that threatened to consume you entirely.

Bucky's hands slowly and deliberately roam upwards, his fingertips tracing delicate patterns on your skin before finally reaching your breasts. He gently cups them in his large hands, beginning to massage and caress them with a tender yet passionate touch. Bucky's ministrations quickly begin to urge you on, your legs flexing together to create some kind of pressure between your legs.

The vibranium hand was still hot, it distributes those waves of heat through your body in a much gentler fashion than how you’ve seen in other circumstances. You’ve seen his arm break through concrete, crush otherwise impossible to damage objects, choke the life out of aliens. And here he was, treating your body like precious, tender treasure with the same limb.

You can feel your skin tingling …the dichotomy between his two hands - one warm flesh, one hot metal - adds an extra layer of sensory stimulation. A feather or an ice cube couldn't compare to how he made you feel.

The pure captivation in Bucky's eyes made the butterflies in your belly swarm even more, how he eyes your breasts makes you want to pull him in and push them against his face. His movements become more focused when he senses your desires, kneading and massaging with a rhythm reminiscent of a contented feline. The gentle yet insistent pressure of his fingers elicits a soft, involuntary moan from your lips.

Unable to resist the opportunity for a bit of playful teasing, you murmur breathlessly, "Mmm... you learned from Alpine?" The reference to his beloved white ragdoll brings a flicker of amusement to Bucky's intense gaze. He responds with a dramatic eye roll, clearly torn between exasperation at the interruption and appreciation for your attempt at humor.

"Shut up..." he growls softly, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine. The playful admonishment is accompanied by a gentle squeeze of his hands, your eyes widened as you let out a gentle mewl.

He lets his lips ghost over yours, but he doesn't kiss you fully, no.

Bucky Barnes is the master of teasing.

He maintains his playful demeanor, reveling in the way you squirm and moan for him. That signature cocky smirk of his spreads across his lips as he watches you shuffle and attempt to press closer, seeking more contact. "Ah, ah... patience, doll. Stay still for me," he commands, his voice low and husky with desire.

"Bucky..." You drawl out his name, elongating the syllables into a desperate whine. Your body trembles with need, silently begging for more of his touch. You're acutely aware of his penchant for teasing, knowing all too well that he's unlikely to give in to your pleas so easily.

If anything, your desperation only seems to fuel his determination. Knowing Bucky as you do, he'll draw this out, savoring every moment of your mounting desire until your legs buckle beneath you.

His fingers begin to tease your sensitive buds, eliciting those exquisite sounds he so deeply adores from you. Those needy, desperate noises that eloquently convey how incredibly good he makes you feel, encouraging him to continue his ministrations. His skilled fingers pinch lightly, gently tugging and rolling, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Your right breast is noticeably warmer and more flushed from the recent contact with the hot metal, though it didn't cause any discomfort or burning. The sight of your reddened, sensitive skin makes him groan softly under his breath, his desire for you growing rapidly.

"Ugh...look at you. You're drivin’ me crazy," Bucky whispered, his voice husky with desire. He nudged his knee between your legs, effectively pinning you in place. Your back pressed firmly against the cool counter, leaving you delightfully trapped between the unyielding surface and Bucky's warm, solid body.

"Please, don't tease me anymore..." You begged softly, your voice trembling with a mixture of anticipation and desperation. You didn't truly expect him to relent, but a small part of you hoped that he might show mercy. Your plea, however, only served to amuse him, eliciting a low, throaty chuckle that sent shivers down your spine.

His thumbs continued their torturous dance, rubbing slow, deliberate circles over the very peaks of your sensitive buds. Each touch sent jolts of pleasure coursing through your body, making you gasp and squirm. Your back arched involuntarily, pressing your chest further into his skilled hands, silently begging for more despite your earlier words.

You were already teetering on the edge, your composure crumbling with each passing second. You always liked to think you were more hardy against him but…damnit could he get you to break. It was almost embarrassing how quickly he had reduced you to this quivering mess, and he had barely begun. His touch had been confined to your breasts alone, yet you felt as though your entire body was on fire.

"I've got you...m'gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart..." His voice was low with a promise that made your heart race even faster. With a fluid motion, he grasped your hips and turned you around, pressing your back firmly against his broad chest. The heat of his body seeped through you, adding to the inferno building within you. His hands, those wonderful, torturous hands, began a slow, teasing journey down your body, leaving trails of tingling sensation in their wake.

Slowly, he pushed your underwear down, as the fabric inched its way to your mid-thighs, he paused, his eyes drinking in the sight before him. Sticky strands of your excitement formed delicate bridges between your core and the fabric. The underwear continued its descent, finally coming to rest just above your knees, leaving you exposed and trembling.

"God, look at you," he breathed, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "Just from me handlin' you a little, you got this wet for me?" Bucky whispered directly into your ear, his hot breath fanned across your skin, his scruff tickled your sensitive flesh as he spoke. The slight abrasion only served to heighten the ever-growing need you felt in your core.

He tilted his head closer to you, lips barely grazed your temple as he placed teasing kisses there. Suddenly, his knee moved, gently but firmly knocking against your legs. The silent command was clear, and you found yourself widening your stance, your body responding to his unspoken desires.

The tension that had been building within you reached a crescendo. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you let out a whine - a needy, desperate sound. Your voice so thick with desire, managed to break through those desperate noises, "Bucky..." you pleaded, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. "Please," you repeated, your body trembling with the effort of restraining yourself. "I can't take it anymore..."

The scorching metal continued its relentless journey across your skin, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in its wake. Your body quivered involuntarily as it inched closer to your most sensitive area. The heat radiating from your cunt rivaled that of his arm, but nothing could have prepared you for the jolt that surged through you the moment his fingers made contact with your intimate folds. The sensation was so intense that you barely managed to stifle a scream.

"Bucky!" His name escaped your lips in a breathless gasp as his skilled fingers found their target with unerring precision. They danced teasingly over your bundle of nerves, easily locating the center of your pleasure and lavishing it with gentle, circular motions. Each swirl of his fingertips sent waves of loud ecstasy coursing through your body. Your sensitive bud throbbed and pulsed under his expert touch, responding eagerly to every caress. The flood of need that washed over you was so potent that you could feel it trickling down your inner thighs.

Bucky’s fingers ventured lower, drawn to the source of your wetness and he probed your entrance. He held you still as he swiftly slid two fingers deep inside you. The sudden intrusion into your velvety depths caused your eyes to roll back in your head, overwhelmed by the sensation of his still very hot fingers inside you. You let your head fall heavily onto his shoulder, a loud, unrestrained moan escaped your lips as his fingers began a gentle yet insistent rhythm, pumping in and out of you with a practiced ease.

"That's it, sweetheart..." Bucky let out a deep, guttural grunt of pleasure as he listened to your soft whimpers and moans. His voice was thick with his own desire as he continued, "How's that feel, hm? My fingers exploring every inch of this needy little hole of yours. You were practically dripping before I even laid a hand on you, weren't you?" His skilled fingers deftly navigated your cunt, searching for that one spot that would drive you wild.

Suddenly, his fingers found that elusive sweet, spongy spot deep inside you and curled up against it. The sensation sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. You couldn't help but let out a desperate, keening mewl as your hips instinctively bucked into his hand, seeking more of that friction. But your eager movements only resulted in Bucky withdrawing his fingers slightly, denying you the intense stimulation you craved.

"No, no, doll... stay still for me," he rasped into your ear, his hot breath ghosting over your sensitive skin and sending shivers down your spine. "I know you can do that. Be good…" His voice was a horny mix of command and encouragement, leaving no room for argument.

His fingers resumed their steady movements after seconds of stillness, but now they purposefully avoided that sweet spot that had you seeing stars just moments ago. The deliberate teasing had you trembling with need, but you weren’t shocked by it. Bucky loved watching you like this, he wasn’t satisfied unless you were shaking and begging through your pretty tears. He had you caught between the desire to obey and the overwhelming urge to chase your pleasure.

The Wakandan metal radiated an intense, penetrating heat that seemed to seep into your very core, like having smoldering coals nestled within your body. It didn't burn, of course - the sensation was far more nuanced than that. Besides, if his steaming arm burned you, he wouldn’t ever put it on your skin.

It instead felt like an overwhelming surge of warmth, akin to the comforting embrace of a steaming bowl of soup on a cold winter's day. The heat consumed you, leaving you feeling inexplicably full and satiated. You tried, your fervent attempts to remain still were failing, the mounting pleasure proved increasingly difficult to resist. He was acutely aware of your struggle, reveling in the power he held over you.

Your body cruelly betrayed you as your hips instinctively jerked upward, responding to the touch of his fingers as they grazed your most sensitive spot deep inside your cavern. Bucky, surprisingly, permitted this small transgression…but he was far from ready to grant you the release you so desperately craved.

He continued to curl his fingers relentlessly, expertly manipulating your body until he could feel the telltale tightening of your inner walls around him. Your voice, thick with need and barely above a whisper, managed to form the words, "I-I'm close, Bucky I...-"

Just as your body tensed, poised on the very edge of ecstasy, Bucky abruptly withdrew his fingers, denying you the climax you had been building towards. The sudden loss of stimulation made you release a pained, desperate cry from your lips, a sound that reverberated with raw frustration and unfulfilled desire. You attempted to crane your neck, seeking to make eye contact with him, silently pleading for mercy.

He was so unfair.

"Not until I say, baby...you know that," he whispered against your ear, his fingers thoroughly coated in your essence. You caught sight of the glistening strands of your unmistakable arousal dripping from his hand. The sight made you blush deeply, a mix of shame and excitement coursing through you as you whined softly, your body instinctively squirming against his other arm that held you firmly in place.

"Please...I need to..." you started, your voice trembling with need, a shiver running through your body as you felt the sudden loss of his warm, skilled fingers against your sensitive flesh. The absence of his touch left you aching, yearning for more, trying to get closer to that hand just inches away from you.

Bucky let his hand return to your folds, deliberately spreading your arousal across the delicate skin. The slow, purposeful movement of his fingers sent more addicting pleasure through your body. He began to tease your precious clit once more, his expert touch reigniting the fire within you.

His fingers warmed the pink flesh to a deep, blushing red, each caress bringing you closer to the edge of ecstasy while still keeping you teetering on the brink of release. He did just enough for you to feel those shocks, but not enough to push you over.

You couldn't contain yourself, your passionate cries echoing through the room with such intensity that you were convinced your neighbors would surely lodge a complaint later. You didn’t really care, and neither did he. Your hips moved of their own accord, grinding desperately against his hand as he expertly pleasured you.

His organic hand slowly traced its way down to your entrance, teasing and tantalizing with feather-light touches, then plunged deep inside you, curling over and over against your g-spot. His metal fingers continued their relentless assault on the sensitive bundle of nerves nestled between your slick folds, your clit at the mercy of his ministrations.

His voice was so deliciously deep and husky with arousal, it cut through the haze of your pleasure as he spoke to you. "You gonna finish for me, doll?" he growled, his own hips now moving in tandem with yours, the friction adding another layer to your mounting pleasure as you felt his hard cock grinding against your ass. "Hm? You gonna make a mess on my hands?"

The raw need in his tone, combined with the skillful ministrations of his hands, pushed you closer and closer to the edge. You could feel your climax rapidly approaching, a tidal wave threatening to crash over you at any moment.

You felt an overwhelming surge of sensation wash over you, your entire body trembling with the intensity of it all. Your mouth fell open, ready to cry out in ecstasy, but at first, only a soft, breathy whine escaped your lips. Every muscle in your body tensed, your inner walls clenching tightly around his skilled fingers.

His hand continued its relentless assault, moving in circles around your sensitive bud, alternating between gentle pinches and teasing tugs. Your vocalizations grew louder and more desperate when he pinched your clit, his gentle tugging made the blood rush straight to it, the sensitivity increasing.

The climax washed over you, your passionate cries for him echoing through the empty kitchen. His name tumbled from your lips in a frantic mantra, your voice raw with need. Tears of intense pleasure pricked at the corners of your eyes and your legs gave way beneath you, unable to support your weight any longer. But he was there, strong and steady, holding you up as you shattered in his arms.

"That's it, baby," he murmured encouragingly, his voice a low, seductive rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "Let go for me. Don't hold back. I want to see you make a mess, make a fuckin’ mess for me..." His words were a siren song, coaxing, commanding you deeper into the throes of ecstasy.

Bucky's touches never ceased, fingers working tirelessly to prolong your pleasure, pushing you higher and higher until you thought you might lose your mind. What felt like mere seconds stretched into an eternity of blissful agony, your body alight with sensation, trembling and arching against him as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through you.

Your vision blurred as tears pricked your eyes, cascading down your cheeks while you completely soaked his fingers. The intensity of the sensation overwhelmed you, causing your body to tremble uncontrollably. As waves of pleasure coursed through you, your mind went blank, consumed by the sheer ecstasy of the moment.

As your cries died down, your orgasm began to subside, having run its course through you. Your once rigid body slowly relaxed, muscles unwinding one by one, mirroring the gentling of his touches. He held you securely by your hips, his strong arm providing much-needed support to prevent you from collapsing. Even with the counter in front of you, you weren’t sure if you could even stand right now.

The aftermath left you in a state of blissful delirium. It felt utterly incredible, as if you were floating on cloud nine, your senses still reeling from the intense experience. You remained dazed, barely able to process the lingering sensations coursing through your body. Bucky slowly withdrew his fingers, the movement eliciting a soft gasp from your lips.

His touch became so tender and affectionate, traced a path along your skin as he placed gentle, reverent kisses on the back of your shoulder and the nape of your neck. The warmth of his breath caused goosebumps to rise all over your body as he murmured words of praise against your skin. "So good for me...so perfect, babydoll. You did so good for me," he whispered, his voice held soft adoration and satisfaction.

"I... I can't... feel my legs," you managed to say, your voice coming out in a raspy whisper as you struggled to catch your breath. Your chest heaved with each labored inhale, the exertion of your intense orgasm still evident in your flushed cheeks and trembling limbs.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your neck where his lips were pressed, sending a shiver down your spine despite your exhaustion. His gentle hands supported your weight, helping you regain your balance until you were able to stand somewhat steadily on your own, though your legs still felt like jelly beneath you.

"My bad, doll," he replied with a cheeky grin, that familiar smug smile spreading across his face as his eyes roamed over your disheveled form. There was a glint of satisfaction in his gaze as he took in the sight of you, clearly pleased with the effect he had on you. His eyes lingered on the places where his metal hand had touched, tracing the patterns of blotches and handprints that now adorned your skin in various shades of red from the heat of the vibranium.

"S'pretty, you know that?" he whispered, his voice low and husky. His eyes raking over your body with an intensity that made you feel both exposed and cherished. His gaze held vibrant, burning embers of lust that were still very much alive, but also a deep well of affection and love that made your heart skip a beat.

Bucky leaned close to you, his eyes softening as he gazed into yours. He caressed your cheek with his organic hand and gave you a tender, lingering kiss. His lips were soft and warm against yours, and you felt your heart flutter in your chest. Your hands were still slightly trembling from your overwhelming release, but they found their way to his cheeks. Your thumbs traced delicate circles on his cheekbones, savoring the feel of his skin and scruff beneath your fingertips.

The kiss deepened, and you felt yourself melting into his embrace. The world faded away until there was nothing but the two of you, you cherished the moments like this, when it was just you both enjoying a sweet moment together. No worries, no stress, no fear. When Bucky finally pulled away, that familiar cheeky grin spread across his face, lighting up his eyes with mischief and affection.

Your eyes narrowed in response, growing suspicious thinking about the many possibilities he could be up to. "I gotta wash my arm again," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, the plates of vibranium still coated thickly with your orgasm.

Your cheeks flushed and you groaned softly, rolling your eyes. "Put the pan on the stove this time," you replied, your voice equally soft but tinged with playful exasperation. "I am not hand washing that thing."

Thanks for reading - em🌿

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

[buuniebaby]

sex tape headcons 😉😉

PRETTY ON CAMERA 🎀 HAMZAH X READER

includes: rough sex, sex tapes, choking, fem!reader, ft sex, unprotected sex

wordcount: 2.2k

as much as hamzah hates to admit it, he loves being on camera - and that doesn’t stop at just youtube videos.

despite the promise to himself he made mental note of in high school to never send nudes, it’s become his new addiction. he loves to show off every inch of himself to you, he loves the praise you give in response to seeing his body, and he especially loves knowing that he can make you go feral with a simple video.

on a similar note, he fucking adores seeing you on camera. he likes the way you get shy when being recorded, whether the audience is slushies or it’s a video just for him. he’s obsessed with the pretty lingerie you wear for him and the way your tiny hands caress your body while you think of him. it makes him want to fucking destroy you.

ever since you two have gotten into the habit of filming videos for each other, it’s almost like something’s awoken inside of him. an urge of sorts, to make a fantasy he’s kept bottled up forever real. he wants both of you on camera, together. however, there’s one problem preventing him from asking:

hamzah is a pussy.

but thankfully, you’re just as horny as he is nervous.

the topic doesn’t actually come up until a day where your boyfriend is particularly needy. he’s sleeping over at martin’s tonight - a little too long without you for his liking.

fortunately for him, martin and mandy had forgotten to get a few items for their next video, so he had a bit of alone time. as soon as they’re out the door, his shirt is pulled off and he’s facetiming you.

as your phone buzzes to life, you’re snapped out of your doomscrolling session, wearing just one of hamzah’s large hoodies and a pair of panties. you smirk a bit at the sight of his contact popping up on your screen and sit up.

“hi, baby.” he says, voice deep. “I miss you.”

“i miss you too,” you reply back, in a more light tone. “but ill be with you tomorrow..” you say, smirking. you’ve got the same idea as him.

“are martin and mandy home?” you ask. as much as you want hamzah right now, you really don’t want to deal with the consequences of his best friend overhearing you two.

“nah, they left a little while ago.. forgot to buy some stuff for the video. ..soo, I have you all to myself.” he says, smirking.

“yeah?” you lean into the camera, doe eyes sparkling up at him.

“yeah. y’know, I missed hearing your voice, baby. it’s enough to get me hard.” he mutters, voice deep and breathy. it only makes you want him more.

you can only bring yourself to reply with a simple, “mhmm?” as your hands reach into your panties.

“yeah.. fuck. get that fucking hoodie off too. wanna see all of you.” he mutters back. you can tell he’s touching himself now too.

immediately, the hoodie is on the floor, bare chest exposed to the camera. hamzah takes this as an opportunity to change his position as well, camera giving you a direct view of him laying on his bed, sweatpants pulled down as he grinds his cock into a pillow.

“fuck, miss those tits. you want that? my mouth on them?” he says, breathing heavy.

you moan at this, grinding down into your fingers - they aren’t nearly his size, but it’s the best you can do for right now.

“yes, fuck- keep talking.” is all you can utter out.

“yeah? wish this pillow was your pretty little pussy, you know that? wish you were right here right now-“ he chokes, “fucking rutting in this pillow, just wish it was you, baby.” the visual of his hips thrusting, starting to get desperate paired with his words is destroying you, but the next thing he says is what really does it.

“gonna fill you up when I get back home. gonna pump my come into you, until you can’t take it anymore - fuck.”

fuck.

you see his hips twitch as you bite your fist, seemingly both close to finishing. you can hear a faint “shit- shit.” from the other side of the camera, and with that, you feel yourself finish all over your fingers. just as you’re done, you see hamzah’s thrusts pause as he takes a breath, and you can only guess that he just came as well.

after both collecting your breath, you mutter out a simple, “wish we were together. instead of facetime, we could just like, record it.” he continues to lay down, still recovering, but once he actually processes what you just said he perks up.

“wait.. like, actually? you’d do that?” he asks eagerly, eyes slightly widening.

“I mean.. I wouldn’t ever post it or anything. just like.. something to watch when you’re not here. only if you’re comfortable though.” you casually reply, and suddenly he’s already hard again.

“im very comfortable. incredibly comfortable with that actually.” he says, excitedly, and it makes you giggle.

“get your camera charged for tomorrow then.” you say, a sly smile forming. you’re enjoying the way you have a hold on him. “oh- and make sure you bring a new sd card, not the one you use for filming. i have a feeling we’re gonna make a lot of footage.”

“yes ma’am,” he says, making a salute sign with his hands. even when he’s bricked, he knows exactly how to make you laugh.

hamzah is counting down the minutes until he gets to see you when the next day comes. martin and mandy are even shocked at his eagerness to get out of the house, joking that he hates them now.

after what feels like the longest drive he’s ever taken, hamzah arrives home. he’s speeding through the door, into the living room, only to see you’re nowhere to be found; that is, until he checks his bedroom.

he slowly opens the door to a sight he never wants to forget - you’re sprawled out on his bed, baby pink lingerie barely covering your body, as you fix your hair in your phone camera. the sound of the door creaking open catches your attention, and you look up at him with those big, sparkly deer eyes. you giggle at his mouth, jaw dropped at the sight of you. “missed me?”

“fuck, yes.” is all he can mutter as he crawls onto the bed beside you, pulling the camera out of his backpack and then carelessly tossing the rest of his stuff off the bed. he pulls you into a sloppy kiss, immediately making up for the time he was gone.

you breathlessly manage to pull him off of you. giggling, you whine, “hamzahh, you haven’t even started recording yet.”

“shit- forgot.” he grabs the camera and fumbles with it for a second, then places it on the side of the bed. you see a red light go off as he pulls you into another kiss.

your lips trace his as your tiny hands find their way to the bottom of his sweatshirt, pulling it off to reveal nothing underneath. he begins to undress you as well, big hands carefully tracing the dainty lace as he pulls it off you. he leans down to put his mouth on one of your tits, suckling on it like a newborn baby. one of his hands goes to the neglected breast, and the other to grip your neck. you gasp as his strong, veiny hands wrap around you, taking your breath away.

he pulls away from your chest, leaving you panting. you can see him mess with the strings of his sweatpants until they’re untightened, then pull them down, showing his erection through his boxers.

“hamzah…” is all you can say. he’s the only thing on your mind right now.

“baby..” he mutters back.

his strong hands push you back into the bed, laying you down. you look up at him, confused, watching him get closer to your face. he caresses your cheek for a second, moving your hair out of your eyes.

“so pretty.. my girl.” he mutters, love in every word that comes out of his mouth.

he gently palms himself through his boxers before slowly pulling out his cock. all you can do is stare at his dick, precum glistening from the tip. he drags it across your lips, and by instinct, you open your mouth. you lap at it, gently, but hamzah has a different idea.

“open.” is all hamzah says before suddenly, his whole cock is down your throat. you make a shocked sound, but then settle to the feeling of the shaft’s intrusion. he starts slow, but begins to thrust in and out of your mouth rapidly, giving you small breaks when he pulls out for air.

“so fucking hot.. feels so wet around me..” he groans, using your face as his own personal pocket pussy for the camera. the sounds of your gagging only turns him on more, hips stuttering as he thrusts.

“mhmm, mhn, mmgh- fuck! fucking- perfect little throat, all mine, my perfect girl-“ he says as you feel a twitch from inside your mouth. his hips stutter as he cums down your throat, with a “god- all mine. fuckkk.”

as he slowly slides his cock out of your mouth, his fluids coat the outside of your lips. he grabs the camera, showing it your face. you stick your tongue out, showing the lack of cum in your mouth. he pets your cheek again, deep voice muttering a “good girl, swallowing it all for me.” all you can do is give the camera a fucked-out smile.

hamzah repositions you two so you’re sitting in his lap, the camera facing your ass. you kiss him, sloppy, already feeling drunk off of the feeling of his cock fucking your mouth. as the two of you make out, he grips your ass, moving your hips against his lap. he pulls his sweatpants and boxers all the way down, making the connection skin-to-skin.

he lets out shaky breath before he grinds his bare cock against your pussy a few more times. “you’re gonna be the fucking death of me.” is what he mutters before sliding in, exhaling a loud, “fuckkk” with it.

your ass bounces on top of him, making a loud “plap” sound every time you sink down onto his pelvis. his strong hands grasp onto your hips and lift your body up and down as he thrusts into you in unison. his hips speed up as do yours, until you’re panting on top of his cock, desperately making any kind of friction.

“ah- ah- ahh- fuck!” you whimper with each thrust, only making hamzah get more aggressive. he feels your cunt tighten around him, and thrusts as deep as he possibly can while you cum.

hamzah lets out a deep, breathy laugh as you nuzzle into his shoulder. he rubs your back gently, but then whispers a soft, “i still need to cum again, baby.”

you perk up again, preparing yourself for round 2, but hamzah is already manhandling you into place. he maneuvers you into all fours on the bed, then grabs the camera.

he records as he slides the tip of his cock against your pussy, then shoves his cock inside you. you let out a loud gasp at the intrusion. he uses the other hand to pull on your hair, aggressively yanking your head back, making you look him in the eyes.

“want you to beg for it-“ he says, out of breath, “beg for my cum.”

“mhmm.. please.. need it hamzah!” you say, whimpering and whining as your cunt tightens around his cock. he’s animalistic, thrusting into you like it’s the last time he’ll ever see you.

“more.. fuck- more, baby. need to hear you while I cum.” he says.

“please hamzah, I need it, I need your cum inside me so bad. fuck- ruin me- ahhh, breed me!” you whine out, shaking from the way he pounds you. you groan as you feel him cum inside, seed filling you up and making you feel whole.

hamzah turns off the camera and puts it off to the side, still inside you. he doesn’t move, just lays on top of you, pressing soft kisses to your back.

“love you..” he mutters, “so fucking much.”

you softly whine back, face still pressed into the mattress. he slowly pulls out, his cum buried so deep inside of you nothing even leaks out. you try to sit up, but hamzah pushes you back down. “hold on- there’s.. one more thing i want to do.”

you look back at him, confused, and watch him as he grabs the camera and starts recording your ass. he slowly spreads your folds open, and after a second, cum begins to drip out. a quiet “fuck..” is all he can mutter, watching his seed drip out of his baby.

once hamzah is done being mesmerized by the way his cum leaks out of you, he lays back down and immediately wraps his arms around you, gently caressing your body, staring at you with all the love in the world.

“i love you too,” you tiredly murmur.

“huh?”

“you said i love you earlier.. so do i. i love you.”

he smiles at you for a second, then places a soft kiss on your forehead. “love you too, baby.”

thank u for reading!! SEND REQUESTS i fear we r in a hamzah drought.. 😞 but ill try to get them out quick mwah thank u baii

[mclacedes]

The Idea of You (LN4)

2. The Idea of Worthiness

summary: in which lando decides to make it up for ghostin you

previous ••• next

WARNINGS: it's pretty much all angst. in-depth described anxiety attack, anxious behaviour/mannerisms, description of depression and suicidal ideation, loneliness

wc: 3k

“but what if i can't do it?”

A/N: before anything else, i want to make it clear that my intention is NOT to trigger any kind of trauma in anyone with this. the reader has been warned of potential triggers. if you are going through some kind of psychological hardship, know that there are people who care and who worry <3 you are never 100% alone!

january 1st, 2024 — 3:30pm

you came home with a knot in your chest that seemed to tighten with every breath. the morning had been a blur, an awkward dance around lando’s mother as you searched for a polite excuse to leave.

of course you'd chosen the most simple and non-negotiable of lies: i need to spend some time with my relatives.

despite it being faintly true, you knew you'd spend the whole day with lando's family if the circumstances were different.

the night's words lingered in your mind as you walked out, wishing it could cover the truth: you couldn’t bear the thought of facing lando after what had happened—or rather, after what didn’t happen.

now, the silence in your own home was suffocating. you slumped onto the couch, your mind replaying the scene on a loop: lando's words, lando's reassurance, the way his lips had bruised yours, the heat of his breath so close, his hands on you, his hands in you, his fingers’ magic, and then... you wake up alone.

now, you knew lando felt the same, you knew that things could work out, you knew just the intensity of your feelings for him. but you also knew he hadn't texted you back all day and, seemingly, nobody knew where he was.

as his closest friend, you knew that he'd only have left that way if something really bad had happened.

what you didn't know though, was how bad it felt for him.

it had been a long time since lando had received the diagnosis. after years of wondering what was wrong with him and why he felt such a void within himself, he'd been told he had depression.

what they say is that treatment is easier when you have the right diagnosis, but that doesn't erase the fact that some days were infinitely more difficult than others—harder to get out of bed, harder to leave the house, to work, and singularly hard to live, specially because the latter is the last thing you want during a depressive episode.

he started going to therapy regularly when he was a minor, forced by his parents, but when he became an adult he left—said that talking about how horrible he felt wouldn't help, it would only make him feel worse.

and then the episodes gradually became worse as his life improve. for example, before arriving in F1, he oftentimes found himself fighting against the urge to simply end it all: the pain, the suffering, the disruption, the constant failed attempt at a better day, his very life.

even though he never attempted it, lando was caught contemplating the possibility of the end; he used to wonder how people would react when they heard "lando norris died, suicide", what it would be like if he wasn't here anymore.

“such a kind soul”

“such a beautiful boy”

“smart, funny”

“talented guy”

that's what people would say, in the best of cases.

in the worse of cases people wouldn't even notice he was gone.

well, following next to depression was anxiety.

lando’s anxiety was a constant undercurrent to his depression, feeding off it, amplifying it, tangling him further in a web of self-doubt. it was always there, an invisible weight pressing down, but some days it grew loud enough to silence every other part of him, like a swarm of thoughts buzzing incessantly, trapping him in a looping worry about everything and nothing all at once.

it started with racing—the very thing he loved was also the source of his most unrelenting fears. despite his undeniable talent and the acclaim he’d earned, the worry always crept in: what if i mess up? what if i’m not good enough? what if it’s all just a fluke, and one day everyone realizes i’m a fraud?

he dreaded that moment when the lights turned green, not because of the physical danger but because of the psychological toll—that split-second when any mistake, any misstep, could spiral out into a visible, unforgivable failure.

even beyond racing, the anxiety spilled into every facet of his life. he overthought every message he sent, every interaction, analyzing them for any hint of rejection, any confirmation of his worst fears. if he didn’t receive a response right away, his mind spun stories, convincing him he’d somehow upset the person or made a fool of himself.

and now, with you, it was worse. his feelings were tangled with worry and doubt; he feared you’d eventually see through his flaws, his bad days, his cracks, and walk away. the closeness you’d shared the night before terrified him. he wanted you desperately, yet that desire to let you in also exposed him to his greatest fear: that he would scare you away merely by the fact that he existed.

this anxiety could sometimes send him into a state of paralysis, leaving him unable to reach out, unable to bridge the gap even when he wanted nothing more than to feel your presence, to hear your voice. today was one of those days—the aftermath of a moment so perfect, so vulnerable, that his mind filled with a thousand worries. he couldn’t bring himself to message you, to even show you the rawness of his internal struggle. instead, he withdrew, waiting for the fog to clear enough for him to reach for you again.

but you had tried.

you: lando hey

you: i'm worried abt u

you: text me whenever u get the chance pls

you: i'm right here if you wanna talk”

there were another 20 texts of kindred nature from you in his phone—you spent the afternoon rewinding what had happened, wondering if there were any signs that he would do something to himself or… the devil god knows what.

you had barely moved or done anything at all since you had gotten home because lando still hadn’t texted back, and the worry in your chest was growing impossible to ignore.

you’d known him for years—long enough to see the shadows he kept hidden behind his easy smile. he had always brushed off the subject, deflecting it with humor or quick changes in conversation. but today, his silence was colder, sharper, more unsettling than usual.

hours had passed since you last saw him, and finally, you gave in and sent him a message, trying not to let the desperation seep through.

you: lando, i hope you’re alright. let me know when you’re home safe, ok?

the message delivered, but no ‘read’ receipt appeared. your heart sank, and as you stared at the screen, scenarios spun wildly in your mind.

lando was good at hiding. he knew how to pour himself into everything and everyone else, keeping busy, laughing, entertaining—until he couldn’t. when the episodes came, he retreated so far into himself that it was like trying to find someone in a pitch-black room.

you tried calling him. the line rang and rang, finally going to voicemail. your voice was barely a whisper as you left a message.

“lando… if you see this, please just… come home. or let me know you’re okay. i’m here, alright? no matter what, i’m here.”

when the call ended, the silence in your apartment felt just as cold as his void.

—

unbeknownst to you, he was okay.

at least that's what he said to max when he called saying cisca was worried about him. and thats what he said when he called his mom.

“i’m okay.”

but he knew there was nothing okay with him right now.

far away, in his silent retreat, a wave of coldness washed over him, and his breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps. that feeling in his chest was known: he was panicking.

it felt like the walls were closing in, a vice squeezing his chest tighter with every passing second. his hands trembled, fingers twitching as if searching for something to anchor him, to ground him in reality. he fought to keep his breathing steady, but the more he tried, the more elusive calm became. memories of your kiss haunted him—both a balm and a wound. how could something so beautiful leave him feeling so lost?

what if i’m not enough for her? he thought

a tight knot of fear formed in his stomach, mingling with the ache of longing. was he really ready for this? for you? for love? the questions spiraled, colliding with the weight of his own expectations and the pressure of his career. he couldn’t shake the sense that he was on the brink of something monumental, yet all he felt was the crushing weight of uncertainty.

the doubt crept in, fueled by echoes of his past, whispers of inadequacy that had followed him through the years. he recalled the stinging memories of being told he wasn’t good enough, of moments when his efforts felt like they never quite measured up. every trophy he’d won and every incredible milestone he had achieved done little to silence those voices. instead, they morphed into an insidious belief that no matter how hard he tried, he would always be a step behind, always falling short.

what if she hates me?

with you, the stakes felt impossibly high. what if he couldn’t be the partner you deserved? what if the pressure of the spotlight overwhelmed him and drove you away? those thoughts twisted in his gut, feeding the anxiety that swelled within him. he imagined you in a world where he wasn’t there, finding someone who could offer you the stability and unwavering support he feared he lacked. the very thought crushed him, deepening the ache in his chest, as it reminded him of all the times he had to fight for validation, only to come up empty-handed.

he was scared of what loving you meant, terrified of failing you, terrified of failing himself. the weight of it all felt unbearable, a heavy blanket of dread that threatened to suffocate him.

what if i fail her?

lando was too scared, too anxious. with every breath, his lungs ached, and with every tear that gathered in his eyes, he felt weaker. it was as if he were standing on the edge of a precipice, the ground crumbling beneath him, and the vast unknown loomed below—a place filled with possibilities but also with the risk of falling into darkness. he clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms, trying to ground himself as the rising tide of emotions threatened to pull him under.

every heartbeat felt like a reminder of his vulnerability, a painful pulse that echoed the uncertainty gnawing at his core. he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was teetering on the edge of something profound, yet all he could focus on was the suffocating fear of not being enough. the love he felt for you, so pure and intoxicating, was also a heavy burden, weighed down by his past failures and fears. the thought of letting you down, of not living up to the promise of what could be, sent chills racing down his spine.

she's too perfect, i'm a mess

as tears spilled over and streamed down his cheeks, he felt a mix of shame and desperation. lando had always prided himself on being strong, on facing challenges head-on, yet here he was—vulnerable and exposed, battling an internal storm that felt relentless. the very act of loving you felt like a gamble, one that he wasn't sure he was ready to take. would he be brave enough to step forward, to embrace the chaos of his heart, or would he retreat back into the safety of his own fears?

with every sob that escaped him, the overwhelming tide of emotion pulled him deeper, and he struggled to keep his head above water. the thought of calling you, of reaching out for the connection he craved, felt both necessary and terrifying. what if you saw him like this—raw, broken, and afraid? what if he could never find the words to explain what he felt, or worse, what if you saw him as nothing more than a disappointment?

what if she saw me for who i truly am?

taking a shaky breath, he reached for his phone thrown on the couch, sitting on it. his hands were still trembling as he dialed the only person, besides you, who he knew wouldn't judge, but understand him.

“hey, mate, how you doing?” max fewtrell greeted him with his usual easy grin, only for the smile to falter the second he took in lando’s state: tears streaked his face, his eyes swollen and red, his nose and cheeks raw from wiping at them. his lips, split and bloodied, told the story of how he’d been biting them all day. lando’s breath hitched in his throat, his words barely making it out.

“hey… mate, i—” he tried, but the lump in his throat choked him. lando couldn’t even speak.

“lando, what happened?” max said, his voice low and steady, concern etched across his face.

“i think i… i fucked things up with Y/N,” lando's voice cracked, desperation pouring from him as if his world was unraveling right there in front of max.

the sight in front of max sent a chill through his spine. lando's looks, disheveled, like he’d been pulling at it in frustration all day. his bright green eyes were dulled, sunken and rimmed with red. the bags beneath them were dark, a stark contrast against his pale skin. his hands trembled on his knees, unable to steady themselves. his chest heaved, like the panic was consuming him from the inside, leaving only a fragile shell of the person max had known for years.

lando wiped at his face, the back of his hand coming away wet. he shook his head, sinking deeper into the couch.

“we kissed, we slept together and i pushed her away, max. i—i could’ve stayed. i could’ve—” his breath caught again, ragged and uneven. “but i left with no explanation. i went up and left her there, max… i’m so stupid.” he cried out.

lando’s breath hitched, and he pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to stop the tears, but it was no use. his shoulders shook, and a sob escaped him, raw and unfiltered. he hadn’t felt this way in a long time—like he was too broken to be loved.

"max, i’m a mess," he whispered, his voice cracking. "i couldn’t stay, i couldn’t even look at her this morning because… because she deserves better. i mean, look at me," he gestured to himself, his hands trembling. “i’m fucked up, max. i couldn’t even say the words, couldn’t even be honest. how can i be with her when i don’t even know what’s going on in my own head?”

max’s brows furrowed, his face softening as he listened. lando looked like he was spiraling, and it hurt max to see his best friend like this—feeling like he didn’t deserve something good because he was caught in his own storm.

“lando, mate,” max started, carefully choosing his words, “you’re not as messed up as you think you are. yeah, you’ve got stuff going on, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve her, or that you don’t deserve to be happy. and running away from her because you think you’re too broken for her… that’s not the answer.”

lando shook his head, wiping at his eyes, his voice trembling as he spoke. “but i am broken, max. i don’t even know how to deal with my own shit, let alone someone else’s. she’s this… this amazing person, and i’m just… i’m just me. she deserves someone who has it all figured out, not someone who’s going to bolt the second things get real.”

max let out a breath, leaning forward a bit. “no one has it all figured out, lando. not me, not her, not anyone. she’s not expecting you to be perfect, she’s expecting you to be real with her. that’s all. and yeah, maybe you’re not in the best place right now, but you can’t let that be the reason you push her away.”

lando let the words sink in, but it didn’t ease the heaviness inside him. “i left because i thought… i thought i’d hurt her more by staying. i didn’t want her to see me like this. i didn’t want her to see how much of a mess i am.”

“but by leaving, you hurt her anyway,” max said gently. “because she cares about you. and if you care about her too, you’ve got to let her in, even if it’s messy, even if you don’t have all the answers. it’s okay to not have everything together, lando. it’s okay to be scared. but you can’t run from this.”

lando swallowed hard, staring at the floor, his fingers gripping the edge of the couch until his knuckles turned white. max was right. he had run—run because he didn’t think he was good enough, run because the idea of her seeing all his cracks terrified him.

“but what if i can’t do it? what if i let her down again?” lando’s voice was barely audible now, thick with doubt.

max’s expression softened even more. “then you figure it out, together. but you’ve got to give her the chance to make that choice. don’t decide for her that you’re not good enough. let her in. let her see you, even the parts you’re scared to show. that’s how you build something real.”

lando’s breath came in short, shallow bursts, his heart pounding in his chest. the thought of opening up like that—to be fully seen, in all his messiness, all his vulnerability—scared him more than any race ever had. but the thought of losing Y/N, of pushing her away because of his own fear… that scared him even more.

“yeah, sure,” lando whispered, his voice hoarse. “i need to talk to her. i need to fix this.”

max smiled softly, relief flickering in his eyes. “yeah, mate. you do.”

after bidding his best friend farewell, lando sat and tried to calm himself down by pressing his fingers with exposed raw flesh due to the fact he had gnawed at his own hands out of anxiety. he had to come up with something to make it up to you. he needed to.

TAGGINGS: @meglouise00 @rawr-123s-stuff

[zo3mess]

Pest Control

Summary: So, Adrian has a girlfriend… And it’s not you. But that’s fine, it’s not like you have a secret crush on him, right? And it’s not like she treats him like an absolute shit while you have to hear every night how great she is. Maybe someone should help Adrian get rid of that gold-digging leech.

Warnings: 18+, toxic relationships, Adrian is a meanie, reader is a simp and makes questionable decisions, unrequited love (unless…), blowjobs, voyeurism, foul language, fem!reader, no Y/N

Word count: 4.3K

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Note: Wow, this was pain to write. I literally wanted to scrap it every time I worked on this. Anyways, I’ve been thinking about requests I guess? Idk if anyone would be interested, but if you are, just write a message and I might come up with something. Anyways, enjoy this mess <3

You thought Adrian was a smart guy. You’ve listened to him bragging about precisely picking up clues about criminals’ weak spots just from simple observations. You’ve seen him put together who is the killer in the detective series you watch together.

Well, you just have to forget about that time when he thought he could talk himself from that mess he got into when he accidentally revealed his secret identity. Vigilante mask messily thrown under the passenger seat didn’t make it when he gave you a lift

Still it was a shame to see him lose all that perception and common sense when a pretty girl paid attention to him.

Sadly, that pretty girl wasn’t you. Not that you mind of course. You just hated how he talked your ear off with odes on her beauty. Great ass this, big tits that, but you caught up all those small details that he seemingly missed.

How she conventionally forgets her wallet every time he takes her out. How she checks his phone for “cyber threats” when the only true threat is her. How she is always late with her mortgage payment, at least that’s what she tells him, and when he lends her money, suddenly a new pair of heels occupy her shoe rack.

Every shift with Adrian ended before you even realized, you just discussed stupid things when you do the dishes or shoot funny faces at each other across the restaurant. But ever since he got into a relationship, he had his head full of her instead of all your shared interests from before. Over and over again he talked about Meghan.

Just like now, he yapped and yapped, getting all mushy and soft to the point where he almost forgot that he’s supposed to be bussing tables with you.

“She said she loved me, would you believe that?” Even when he was turned away from you he couldn’t hide a cheery grin that formed with his words. He was just so happy, while you practically felt your heart shatter.

“And do you… love her back?”

“I- pfff, of course I do. What kinda question is that?” He answered right after you asked, like he was 100 % sure about his feelings. You knew him long enough to know, that Adrian was far from a person who had his thoughts and feelings together.

You decided not to sow any doubts into his belief, he would shut any of your argument down like the stubborn guy he is.

“You would like her, you know.” Such a simple statement, such an anger trigger.

“You would like her,” you mocked his statement under your breath while kneeling in front of the electricity box from the other side of Meg’s house. “Yeah, I would like her six feet under.”

Hey, maybe it was not the smartest idea to flip her electricity off for seemingly no reason, but God, were you furious. Meghan had Adrian wrapped around her dainty little finger and he acted like her little pet, doing tricks for the smallest signs of affection.

So what if you wanted her life to not be so perfect? At least for a little while until she figures out how to switch the electricity back.

Vigilante would send a bullet right through your head for doing this.

Though you were sure he would never ever-

Well… Maybe he would. Crime is crime, no matter how great friends you are. You were safe for now, he didn’t have time tonight to watch cheesy romcoms with you and laugh at the stupidity of it. Apparently, he had business to take care of, which could only mean he started his stake out earlier than normal.

Just when you were about to stand up and leave in silence, unseen by neighbors if you got lucky, you heard voices. Not exactly near you, but close enough to make you nervous.

Voices. Conversation. Slam of car doors followed by slam of front door… Shit.

The logical part of your brain screamed ‘Run!’ but the other part of your brain, which usually stands behind those kinds of petty actions, tells you to wait for Meghan’s annoyance and confusion once she finds she can’t even switch a light on.

Silent steps, moves like a ninja, if Adrian saw you he would totally compliment your cat-like walk from the electricity box to the side of Meg’s house. Though he would not compliment the fact that you were too eager to snoop around and look inside her house through the half-open blinds.

You expected Adrian’s girlfriend to barge in with her friends of some sort, but genuine surprise spread across your face when she came in with Adrian, who had his hands full with various shopping bags.

So this is what he meant by business? Being a slave in shopping fever?

And he didn’t even have the guts to tell you honestly why he couldn’t hang out after the morning shift like usual.

And what shocked you even more was the situation that unfolded in front of you. Meghan practically launched at Adrian, making him drop all the bags on the floor. She locked him in a messy and steamy kiss that made your stomach twist.

Oh my god. You shouldn’t be watching that, right?

But it was so endearing. It didn’t take long before she slid to her knees and undid Adrian’s jeans with skilled hands and took his dick out. If only she didn’t block your view with her head…

Adrian gasped and writhed under her hands, you have never seen him turn to putty so fast. He gets all wobbly, whiny, and cuddly when he has too many drinks in a bar, which is probably the closest you could have gotten to see this side.

But this? A Whole next level.

Pathetically beautiful.

“Shut up, Adrian.” Meg’s annoyed order sent a shiver down your spine. This just gave you another piece of evidence of how horrible she was.

What fool would shut down an angel’s choir right before them? You only got a taste of what his vocal cords could do amid pleasure and just that was making your insides jump in unexplainable need.

Adrian unfortunately complied. He clamped his palm over his mouth, muffling any noise that threatened to escape as she took him in her mouth. Despite his tries though, a few loud groans still traveled to your ears.

You’ve heard him groan in pain when he sliced his hand by broken glass at work or when he stubbed his toe on your coffee table. But hearing him groan in pleasure? If you could it would be the only sound he would make next to another moans and whimpers.

This was just so wrong. You mentally kicked yourself that you haven’t dipped already. To be fair it wasn’t worse than cutting off electricity in her house, at least in a legal way. In moral ways, this was worse.

But it truly was a sight to behold.

Just from this distance, you could see the way his lower stomach seized with each bob of her head. Or how he stopped his hips from thrusting further. Chest heaving with each shallow breath. One hand dug in the wall he was leaning on, the other hid half of his face desperately trying to shush himself. Usually twinkling eyes shut tightly under his aviator glasses alongside furrowed brows accompanying the whole look.

This boy belonged to an art gallery. And if not there, he could be an art piece in your home, your eyes alone would replace a thousand others.

Maybe all it takes for someone to realize their feelings is to watch a friend get a blowjob. Because right here and there, kneeling next to the window and peeking through blinds, you feel…

Jealousy. That is what it was all along.

You wished you could take Meghan’s place and kneel in front of him rather than hiding and watching the nasty scene in front of you. You just couldn’t tear your eyes away, at least not until it was all over.

Eventually, Adrian cried out loudly and slammed his hand against the wall. That’s where you realized he was not only forbidden from moaning out loud but also forbidden from touching her. Considering this was her way of paying off Adrian...

Meg quickly stood up and ran towards the sink the second Adrian stopped flaring inside her mouth. Why was it breaking your heart to see her spit out his cum down the drain and immediately rinse her mouth with water. And poor Adrian followed her decision to not swallow with a disappointed look.

There must have been something really appealing to guys to have their girls swallow everything they so generously give them. The idea of part of them staying inside their loved ones for the rest of the day.

Ownership.

Except in this situation Meg owned Adrian, not the other way around. At least that much was clear, it made sense she would never allow something so intimate.

It was hard to act nonchalant around Adrian those following days. The second he came through the door you lost ability to talk normally, hell, you forgot how to walk like a normal human every time he was nearby.

To be fair, there was such a mix of emotions coursing through you it would be a miracle if you acted cool. Jealousy, anger, guilt and… Attraction? No, that can’t be. Every person would feel this weirdly if they saw one of their closest friends getting oral.

It’s like when you experience that strange phenomenon where you dream of someone close to you and suddenly, upon waking up, you realize you have a huge crush on them. It's like your subconscious mind has played a trick on you, ‘Do it for the plot’ as the youngsters say.

Thinking about it afterwards, it was foolish to switch her electricity off. At least it calmed your raging nerves for a while. Give or take few minutes until your mind set off when you saw Adrian getting a blowjob and all of a sudden you developed crush on him.

And now? Well… How else are you supposed to calm nerves from one-sided love?

Alcohol. Drink it over.

Is it a solution? Yes. Is it a good one? That’s debatable.

You don’t even usually drink, at least not in some dingy bars, but it is the only thing that makes you forget about that ache in your chest. You sit by the bar, occasionally spilling sorrows to the barman that clearly let your complaints one ear in, one ear out.

At the point where you felt tipsy and dizzy, you settled on leaving the bar as long as you had some dignity. Phone numbers started mixing, names on your phone were way too blurred.

But the one thing that sobered you out was a woman that walked past you with a man by her side. You knew her, right? She looked familiar?

The pair settled in the booth at the very end of the bar, seeking darkness and privacy, illuminated only by few fairyl ights that hovered over the booth instead of those sharp reflectors by the bar.

The unstable bar stool barely held you up as you leaned towards that woman you have totally seen before. By some squinting and ears dropping you finally figured who it was…

Meghan.

With someone that wasn’t Adrian.

But that fine, it could be some old friend, coworker, maybe brother or cousin-

“Holy shit, they’re making out.”

“Congratulations, your eyes are still working.” The barman chimed in and slid you a bill, impatiently tapping his finger on the counter.

You had to sleep on it, That sight haunted your mind even the day after, when hangover brought you down but your mind was clear enough to think about the thing you saw yesterday.

Meghan. Was in a bar with some macho man that definitely wasn’t Adrian. And they were basically sticking tongues down each other’s throats…

This was wrong. So wrong. Poor Ade had no idea he was being cheated on. Well, it’s not like you haven’t anticipated it, but he couldn’t see it coming.

You would be a bad friend if you didn’t do anything about it. But coming onto him and saying something like this? Adrian would only laugh in your face and tell you to stop fucking with him, his perfect little girlfriend would never do that.

So… What if you gave Meghan a chance? You still had her number from that one time where Adrian tried to do a common movie night. It never happened.

Either she comes clean herself or you will tell Adrian. She does not need to know he probably won’t believe you either way.

Give her creeps, scare her… That’s the plan. You just had to text her from hidden number and wait for karma to do its thing.

She never answered back to that menacing text, days passed and it seemed Adrian and Meghan were still going strong. You almost thought nothing will come out of it.

It almost became the time where you prepared yourself to tell him the truth but…

Until one day, Adrian was acting weird on a shift. Not that it is something unusual, he is weird in certain aspects, but this time it was different.

He did offer you ride home like always though and there was no way you would refuse, at that time you didn’t thought it would be any different.

Not until you actually got into his car…  Familiar environment, same car fragrance, same little silly figure holding motivation quote on his dashboard. Yet your gut screaming that something was not right. Especially when Adrian just sat there, hands on the steering wheel without even starting the car.

“My girlfriend called me,” He started off with a calm voice, but you knew damn well where this was going. “Well, ex-girlfriend now…” He corrected himself with such a nonchalant demeanor like it was nothing.

You just sat in his car, silent, not daring to even flinch. Calm before storm, as they say, now you finally know how it feels.

“And well you know, apparently one of my psycho coworkers was threatening her and stuff.” He chatted away with such grace. Completely undisturbed like he was talking about his favorite pizza toppings. It was pineapple by the way, if anyone was wondering how psychotic he can be.

Why was he so calm? Somehow it was scarier than if he screamed at you right away.

“She said I wasn’t worth dealing with this bullshit, would you believe that?” A way too loud chuckle rang in your ears. You couldn’t decipher if he was actually amused or faked it for the sake of it.

Oh you wanted to turn invisible or at least hide from his piercing eyes. He could see almost every twitch in your face that erupted due to him. Every jerk of muscles in your tense expression and every nervous blink that only revealed your blame.

“And on top of that, she took like 120 dollars from my bank account? Funny huh?”

That didn’t even surprise you, Adrian gave her his credit card for undisclosed reasons. What did surprise you was the lack of emotion behind his ‘jokes’.

You were fucked and not in the good way.

“And I just find it interesting that the person she described sounds a lot like you. So, what the fuck did you do?” Oh, he shoots you that look. That disappointed and angry look that was even more telling than any word could possibly be.

“I did what I had to do. She was with you just for your money, can’t you see that?”

“She loved me!”

“She used you!” You spat back instantly, someone might argue it was maybe even too harsh, but it seemed that all grace left the moment he confronted you.

No other comment followed, no argument, no justification for Meghan’s actions. He just stared at you, a mix of emotions mixing behind his irises and it made you wonder whenever he realized that your words had some truth to them.

The silence that followed made the air near right suffocating, sparkling with tension that could set off with one wrong word. But you take the chance anyway.

“You should be with someone who actually likes you for who you are.”

“Yeah, right,” Adrian scoffed and shook his head to himself, “You mean with someone like you? Don’t be ridiculous.”

Oh, how did that sting. Words laced with mockery and annoyance.

Someone like you…

 Of course he never saw you that way. You were just an insignificant part of his life. Just another coworker, someone he can pass time when he’s bored but nothing more.

“You say that you care and you show it by making my girlfriend dump me. How is that caring?” He didn’t stop flaring hurtful words at you with a choked-up voice. And it made you wonder for a split second if he knew how much he was breaking you. He could be cruel, but would he unleash that side on you?

“You don’t know shit, Adrian!” You couldn’t take it anymore, with an annoyed screech you left his car and slammed the car doors as hard as you could.

Sultry night air pooled warmth over your body the second you left his car and stomped back towards the restaurant. You were ready to beg any of your coworkers for a lift home now that Adrian wasn’t an option.

And in the span of a few days, Adrian lost two people he cared about. Their titles were clear, girlfriend and friend, but those mixed-up feelings hiding behind simple names made his head dizzy. When Meg left, he didn’t feel sadness or loss. It was more disappointment that soon turned into anger directed at you.

Who were you to make decisions like this for him? It was your fault she left him without a word and a few dollars lighter. Well in the grand scheme of things it was just a few.

But all things considered, your departure somehow hurt more. When you slammed the car doors in his face he felt sad. Genuinely. Your actions hurt him, of course, but the feeling only dug itself deeper into his soul when you parted ways on bad terms.

But again, he was never particularly an expert at deciphering his emotions. So whatever he felt, it might as well be a simple betrayal with no extra complexity.

And when it came to you, well…

You knew you fucked up. The road to hell is paved with good intentions. No matter what Adrian believes, you had good intentions. They might have been laced with your own selfish needs, but that doesn’t change the fact that you just wanted to help him.

 What else you could have done except for this? Talking about it wouldn’t make him see clearer, you tried. Leaving him be would be the easiest option, that didn’t seem like a good solution. At this rate, he would lose all his money because of her and probably get all washed up. Just a perfect boyfriend ATM for her.

After many shifts where Adrian completely avoided you and didn’t even shoot you a glance, you finally come to terms that you lost him. There won’t be any more movie nights where you stuff your mouth with cheap popcorn or inside jokes you occupied yourselves at work to make the shift run faster.

Maybe there was a side to his girlfriend that you didn’t see. Light touches in the morning when Adrian spent the night, fleeting kisses, jokes they shared, but what would be the chance she had a heart and used it to love him.

She still cheated on him in that bar. It was her. Totally. No doubt. Right?

A warm storm was brewing in the night sky when you got to your bus stop, the pleasant smell of rain carried itself through the streets and small raindrops wetted your hair and stuck it to your skin. Those kinds of summer storms were nice when you didn’t have to wait for a dingy bus to take you home.

Especially tonight it seemed like the bus would never come. You waited, waited, waited… It either broke down or the driver just decided that he won’t take a turn to get to this specific bus stop.

Either way you were getting drenched, cold and impatient, already settling on calling overpriced taxi or walking home in a storm.

You began walking in direction of your home until a familiar car slowed beside you on the road But even then you didn’t stop walking, you knew damn well who it was but you weren’t gonna give him the satisfaction of acknowledging it. Sebring’s window got rolled down “Need a ride?” and that was when you finally stopped and took a peek on the driver that had almost too soft of a expression plastered on his face.

That ride home was quiet, yet surprisingly peaceful. Neither of you dared to say a word, either because you didn’t want to interrupt the calm between you or because you simply had nothing to say.

One of those times when you meet up with an old friend after such a long time. When you have to warm up a bit to their presence.

And gods, did you miss him. More than you’d care to admit.

Blinding lamp lights flashed through the car window and slow jazz played from the radio on the lowest volume. And just then, when you finally felt a sense of familiarity you talked “I meant well.”

“I know.” Was all he said back before you settled on silence again, much lighter silence.

From time to time you both stole a glance at each other, but Adrian had to focus on the road and you averted gaze from the fear of being caught staring.

How did you never noticed how pretty he looked in the night light?

He stopped in front of your house, a strong deja vú washed over you, but before you could have exited the car yourself, Adrian jumped out of the car and walked over to open the door for you. It’s not like he haven’t done that before, but after you have been through it was an action you didn’t expect.

Without a complain you exited the car and just stood there on the pavement. In warm summer night that would be almost too quiet if it wasn’t for the light drip drip drop of the rain.

You were both searching for words, for apologies. Both sides were wrong and for the first time in your lives, you both knew you made a mistake. Mistake hidden by a good intention. Mistake hidden by a natural reaction. Mistake made by bad decisions, confused feelings and horrible communication.

“You planted a bug in my head, y’know,” Adrian eventually started, rubbing his hands together, “I- I’m—Sorry for acting like a jerk”

You should say you’re sorry too for sabotaging his relationship that seemed horrible to you, but maybe, just maybe, it was more tender than you anticipated.

Actions speak louder than words, right?

You take a hesitant step forward, but when Adrian doesn’t budge, you lock him in a mundane hug. That type of hugs you gave each other on drunken nights as you stumble your way home, filled with raw emotion and honest care.

Adrian’s back… And you couldn’t be happier.

Who knows if it was that sheer happiness or if you grew too confident from the fact he forgives you, you don’t have anything to lose at this point, right?

Your hand sneaks behind his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. You noticed that he is in need of a trim, but that could wait for better time.

You slowly moved your head from the crook of his neck, up and closer, until your cheeks were smushed together. In same way, those droplets of rain was giving this encounter sort of somber vibe, Peace, comfort, calmness…

And when he still didn’t budge, you dragged your face closer and closer, lips almost dragging across his cheek and then...

And then...

Butterflies in your belly were set free. They spread all across your body, making your fingers tingle as you held his face close to you, making your heart stop beating against your own ribs and against his chest. Sparkling electricity in your lips as you connected them with his own buzzing ones.

Adrian himself didn’t know what drove him to kiss you back. Did it matter anyway? Who the hell knows if his motivation was just a need for a quick rebound or if he finally discovered hidden feelings for you…

After all, you were in his arms and it was all that mattered.

That’s where you belonged all along, no matter neither of you knew it until this moment.

It’s a slow mangling of lips, strong and a little bit messy. Too much saliva, too much tongue in wrong places and yet, it was all you ever wanted, all you ever dreamed of.

Coming home. You think to yourself when you pull away for air.

“Do you want to rewatch Fargo with me?” You murmured against his lips, shit-eating grin on your lips. This was an offer you know he can’t refuse.

“Fargo and chill?” Much to your discontent he pulled away from your embrace, but all wrongs turned right when he took you by the hand and pulled you behind him towards your front door with unseen confidence.

And the second those doors shut behind you, theirs was no doubt you were both in the right place.

Sometimes life works out in the messiest way imaginable. But as long as it does, who are you to judge.

[ponett]

Do you have any advice for people making OCs/sonas? Yours are really well rounded and unique and I'd greatly appreciate the insight of someone who got a passion project off the ground!

So this is a very broad topic, and it varies a lot based on your own creative goals, what kind of characters you're creating, and where you want to use them. Creating an OC to be used in furry pinups is a little different than creating one for a dramatic story. But I'll try to give some general advice on how I do things for the types of characters and stories I tend to work with

Heads up: this will be kinda long lol

The germ of an idea

For me, I'll generally be inspired to create a character starting with a small number of core traits. These could be anything. A color scheme, a body type, a job, a hobby, a personality archetype, an outfit, a visual motif, a functional role in a story I'm working on, a noteworthy facial feature, a weapon, a relationship of some sort to an existing character, a single scene or joke I want to use them for. For furries and fantasy characters, species is usually one of the first things I'll have an idea for, which tends to get the ball rolling fairly easily since we have all sorts of cultural associations with different animals and fantasy creatures.

Any standout character trait like this that you find compelling can serve as that initial spark. The inspiration can come from anywhere, but it's often just a matter of knowing yourself and your own tastes. What do you like? What are the people in your life like? What really speaks to you in a character? What's an existing fictional character that you'd like to rewrite and take in a different direction? What's an aspect of yourself that you would like to see represented more often in fiction? It doesn't have to be something super deep or fleshed out right from the start, though. You can start with something as simple as "I want a black cat character" or "I want a character who dresses like an arcade carpet" or "I want a character who looks scary but is actually nice." Whatever it is, it's something that differentiates the new character from the ones I already have, because otherwise I'd just be using them.

Contrast

From there, you can start brainstorming other traits that might go with those core traits. Some of those may be traits that naturally complement each other. Continuing with the black cat example, maybe you wanna play into the common cultural perception of black cats and say that this character brings bad luck, or is associated with witchcraft. However, I often like to give characters contrasting or even seemingly contradictory traits, which can help elevate a character beyond a stock archetype. Real people tend to be a walking ball of contradictions, after all.

I've talked a lot about how I did this with the main cast of SLARPG. Melody is a fox, traditionally a crafty and untrustworthy predator, but she's extremely introverted and gentle. Allison is a bunny, but instead of being a meek and cuddly little prey animal she's an outgoing fighter who loves a challenge, and she has a muscular build. I think this kind of thing gives characters some fun flavor, and can be really effective for both comedy and drama. For an example from something I didn't write, take Senshi from Dungeon Meshi. He's a dwarf, and he embodies certain stereotypical aspects of dwarves - he's a short, buff man with a big bushy beard, he lives underground, he's stubborn and doesn't like elven magic - but he also goes against some of them. Instead of being an expert on mining and blacksmithing, Senshi is a culinary expert who has a deep appreciation for the natural ecosystem of the dungeon. He's a weirdo among dwarves for not caring about the wellbeing of his axe and for using his super awesome shield primarily as a giant wok. And that's what makes Senshi fun and interesting.

So going back to our example, instead of going with the stereotype, we could make a black cat character who has comically good luck, or who's superstitious and afraid of witchcraft, or who's an extremely rational person who always believes in science over superstition. Or maybe you roll with the bad luck angle, but instead make the black cat be the victim of their own bad luck in some interesting way. Maybe this black cat has terrible luck with love and can't hold down a relationship. Maybe this black cat is an aspiring speedrunner who consistently gets the absolute worst RNG possible in every video game due to their own bad luck. Maybe this black cat has accrued a horrendous gambling debt after a long losing streak and has loan sharks coming after them.

These are all just hypothetical examples, of course. I don't exclusively make characters with ironic contradictions like this. The idea is just to build on those core traits you started with in interesting ways, and that's one of my favorite ways to do so. But honestly, a lot of the time execution is more important than the sheer originality of an idea, and sometimes really putting your all into playing a trope you love straight is the right move.

Specificity

Regardless of what direction I take a character in past that initial seed of an idea, the key ingredient tends to be specificity. To give them specific details beyond the most stock possible version of that core idea you started with.

This is something I internalized from Tim Schafer, via a blog post in the behind-the-scenes backer material for Broken Age. Sadly I'm not sure if that stuff is still available, but I did save this particular post about creating characters since it really helped me, so I'll directly quote a chunk of that post here:

No two characters would approach a problem or react to events in the same way. At least, not if you’ve designed the characters well. If you’ve left them too vague or superficial, if they are merely functional elements in your story instead of individuals, then they might react in the same way. And that’s a problem. So to avoid that, I’m going to talk about one the most important parts of character development: specificity. Making sure your character is a specific individual, not a stereotype. A unique character, different from anyone else in the world. It doesn’t mean that they have to have wacky gimmicks, eyepatches and crazy accents. It just means they have to be specific. For example, let's create a new character. Let's say your story has a scene where your main character gets in trouble in school. So you’re probably going to need a school teacher. Imagine a school teacher for a bit. Do you see her in a little red schoolhouse? Maybe a bun in her hair? An apple on her desk? Thick black glasses? Let’s put a ruler in her hand for good measure. Done! We have our teacher character. She’s ready to be in the scene where our hero goes to school and the teacher sends her to the principal’s office for passing notes. Right? I mean, this character doesn’t have too many lines, so why develop her character any more? The problem is that this teacher is a very shallow stereotype of a teacher. She has no specific attributes that make her memorable. She’s the teacher you would get in a set of free clip art. She might not have many lines, but if all your supporting characters are this way, your story will be more bland than it should be. Even if this teacher is only onscreen for a minute, she should be unique and different from any other teacher in the world. Luckily, it's not actually that hard to make her so. You just have to ask some very basic, specific questions.

Tim goes on to explain how simple exercises like filling out character sheets with basic questions about your character (there are a million of these online) can help push a character beyond a stock archetype, even if it's a minor supporting character. Questions about where they're from, their likes and dislikes, their beliefs, their goals in life, that sort of thing. For minor characters especially, a lot of these details may never actually come up in a story, but just asking even a few of these questions and giving them specific answers helps you see them less like an archetype and more like a real person in your head. Maybe you never bring up your character's backstory or their favorite sport or what kind of music they listen to, but just having a specific answer for questions like that might help color the way you depict that character in subtle ways. It makes it feel like they aren't defined by just that one core trait you started with, and helps make the characters and world feel more alive, like there's stuff going on with them beyond the bounds of the story or the drawing.

It's a careful balancing act, though. It's easy for a character to feel like they're a collection of too many unrelated gimmicks and quirks. Again, like Tim said, these specifics don't have to make for the craziest, most original character ever, there just has to be something there.

Let's go back to SLARPG as an example, where I combined broad character archetypes I liked with more specific personal elements that I felt like I wasn't seeing enough in the fiction I liked. Melody is riffing on the common idea of the reserved healer character in the RPG or MMO party and the shy girl archetype, but she's the main hero instead of a supporting player in another person's story, and she's also a fat bisexual trans woman who draws a lot of little details from my own life. Her interests, her relationships, her opinions on things, her personal hangups and dreams, these all set Melody apart from other fantasy healer characters and define her as Melody Amaranth. Specificity!

But it doesn't always have to be super deep, especially if you just want some characters to draw for fun and aren't planning on writing a story with them. Take my fursona. I've always loved dogs, so I made my fursona a dog. I chose a Samoyed in particular because I think Samoyeds are the cutest, and I hadn't seen hardly any anthro Samoyed OCs at the time. I leaned into the breed's signature fluffiness to help my fursona stand out from other canine OCs. She has simple identifying traits like being fat like me, wearing glasses like mine, and having a hairstyle kinda like mine (when I tied my hair up in a bun, at least). And there you go. Fursona achieved. She's not a wildly high concept character, but she doesn't need to be

Anyway I realize that this is mostly about the writing aspect, so here's a few quick bullet points about designing a character's appearance:

Face and body type variety are good, but personally I would say lack of body type variety is worse than same face syndrome

Knowing some stuff about shape language is good, but you don't have to be completely beholden to the "circles are friendly, squares are sturdy, triangles are scary" shit. I'm generally more interested in using repeated shaping in different parts of a character's design as sort of a shape motif. Melody's body, hair, and tail are all made of round, swooping shapes, for example. (This is more applicable if you're designing cartoonier characters as opposed to realistic humans, obviously.)

Knowing some basics of color theory is also good. I like using complementary and contiguous color schemes on characters and generally try not to use too many distinct colors on one design. Black and white and grey and various browns are good as neutral colors to balance out the colors of the rainbow, and gold can be a nice accent color

A small handful of identifying accessories can be fun, but don't rely on those to make a design stand out. Ideally your character should still be identifiable even when not wearing their default outfit, or even in silhouette

Aaaaaand I'm gonna call it a wrap there! This is a huge topic, so hopefully this helps with at least some of the basics! At the end of the day, though, don't beat yourself up if you can't sit down and force yourself to come up with the most crazy awesome OC ever. Just have fun and be yourself!

[wonysugar]

angel | jang wonyoung

synopsis : she was convinced everything you did was to seduce her.

pairing : wonyoung x 6thmember!femreader

genre : smut

tags : noncon, degradation, manipulation, gaslighting, objectification, wonyoung is genuinely a creep, blood mentioned, scratching, physical and verbal abuse, choking, slight mentions of tribbing, fingering, slight nipple play, just plain suffering tbh, death threats, ‘good girl’, ‘slut’

!! warnings : this is like. PURE noncon so please please please read with caution and please for the love of god read the tags before continuing :(( !!

word count : 2.1k

a/n : okay i know i made the poll yesterday and all but look i had ideas and here they are I HOPE YOU LIKE IT this was so interesting to write cause this is SOOOO OUT OF MY COMFORT ZONE AND LIKE?? idk it was a nice experience i hope you like itfkendn

also you know the drill THIS IS NOT OKAY NOR IS IT HEALTHY DON’T DO THIS IRL BITCHES CONSENT IS KEY YALL😭🙏🙏do not give tea to someone who doesn’t want tea CAUSE THEY DON’T WANT ITT IT’S SIMPLE

god, finally.

you sat on the corner of your mattress, still carefully drying your wet dripping hair with the fluffy towel that belonged to you. after a shower like that? you felt refreshed, you felt good and oh did you feel so ready to just pass out on your bed at that moment. that was until you remembered that you couldn’t; since you had to wait for wonyoung, your dorm mate, to come back from the mall with yujin— or, wherever the hell they were at this hour. her dumbass forgot to bring the keys with her, so you’d have to stay awake to be able to open the door for her.

grabbing your phone, you checked the time. it read 12:37 am, which then lead you to text her, very politely yelling at her through SMS to hurry the fuck home before turning it off again and plugging in the charger. 

what a hassle, you thought, groaning. you were fucking exhausted and were practically dying to get some amount of rest, especially after such a long day of non-ending schedules.

mentally sucking it up and shrugging it off, you put the towel aside and laid down on your back, grabbing your phone yet again as an attempt to cure the ongrowing boredom and impatience inside you; maybe instagram reels would make the time go by faster.

indeed, before you knew it, you were startled by a quiet knock at the door. feeling immediate relief, you quickly got up and rushed to open it, already thinking about the amazing night of sleep you were gonna get afterwards.

“any second later and i would’ve left you outside, wonyoung.” you complained as soon as you turned the knob, immediately greeted by her face. you particularly noticed her expression switch to one of slight guilt as she giggled nervously.

you also observed how she stared at you, as per usual.

“sorry, angel.” she apologized, looking up and down at your entire body, seemingly distraught by the sight of your naked thighs, before walking in and continuing. “we just got so caught up in conversation that we ended up just walking around for hours, i hope i didn’t keep you waiting for too long, though.” she scratched the back of her neck, still staring at you, this time more so focused on your chest.

here’s the thing, you loved wonyoung. she was one of your closest friends, that was undeniable. but for some reason, sometimes whenever you’d talk to her.. she’d have a certain look. the same look that she’d give you whenever you’re wearing a somewhat revealing outfit, or doing quite literally anything, for that matter. it always made you feel uneasy, it made your skin crawl. you’d never tell her, though; she was a sweetheart, and you knew that her last intention would be to ever make you uncomfortable. 

right now was one of those moments, though, and her staring was getting overwhelming.

more overwhelming than usual.

subtly trying to brush it off, you responded, “it’s— it’s fine. just, please bring the keys next time?” 

she simply nodded before apologizing again, clearly aware of her mistake and swearing to never commit it again. that gave you the permission you needed to finally get ready for bed. whilst you were doing that, she was changing into her comfier clothes and also getting ready to sleep as she threw occasional warm smiles at you. 

until she squinted at you.

“man, you look pretty tired, y/n. did you sleep early yesterday?” she asked with a worried tone, afraid that you maybe weren’t getting enough sleep. 

you waved your hand around, “yeah, i did. today just wore me the fuck out really, but oh well.” you cut the conversation short, heading straight towards your bed. “goodnight wonyoung—“ but before you could do so, you felt her hand grab your wrist.

tightly.

“wait but— don’t you wanna cuddle like we usually do?” she asked, her mouth formed into a small pout.

and there went that stare. again.

“wony i’m sorry, i’m really tired and—“

“come on, please. i missed you.” she insisted, her grip on your wrist getting tighter as she kept her unsettling gaze on yours. 

your tired brain didn’t seem to register that, however, since you didn't even think about saying no.

i mean, she seemed pretty insistent on cuddling that night, so who were you to even say no? either way, you were gonna fall asleep immediately, so did it really matter if she was cuddling you or not?

you groaned dramatically, then signaled for her to lay on the other side of the bed. her eyes immediately lighting up, she rushed to jump on that side of the bed.

it didn’t take long at all for you guys to finally be settled in bed and you particularly thrived in finally feeling the warmth of your weighted blanket against your cold skin. she, on the other hand, just seemed to be happy to be there with you, considering the grip she had on you was quite strong for like, literally no reason. 

after telling each other goodnight, you expected to doze off immediately, but you couldn’t. you felt bizarre, you didn’t feel like yourself at that moment. every single ounce of exhaustion left your body and it was like insomnia just kicked in for no reason whatsoever.

frustrated, you tried to sleep. that’s when you heard her breathing heavily… very heavily. her inhales and exhales were loud and violent and you felt them on your neck, since she was especially close to it. you would’ve shrugged it off, 

if you didn’t feel her hands moving a lot more than usual.

“wonyoung?”

you felt her shift before hearing her hum, indicating you to keep going.

“you feeling okay?? you’re.. you’re breathing quite heavily.” was what you asked, somewhat concerned. “plus, you’re like, grabbing me—“ 

“sorry.” she responded immediately, “you just— you smell good, is all. i saw your hair was wet, you took a shower, right? you used the body lotion i gave you, right?” 

you nodded reluctantly, somewhat weirded out by her behavior tonight, to which she hummed again.

“i knew you’d like it, it’s so soft and sweet,” she leaned in closer to your neck, sniffing it closer, “just like you, angel.” 

what the fuck was actually wrong with her that night??

getting even more weirded out with each second that passed, you were about to let out a hesitant ‘thanks’ but got cut off by the sensation of her slowly sliding her hand up your pajama shirt as she kept sniffing you.

woah.

woah woah woah???

“wonyoung— what the fuck—“ 

“you smell so fucking good baby. fuck— so good. you used that body lotion just so i would notice, hm? i know you did.” she whispered into your ear, smelling your hair in the process as her other hand went down to your crotch.

triggering your fight or flight, you tried pushing her off of you slightly, but she simply wouldn’t budge. 

wonyoung had always been taller than you by a long shot.

your own breathing getting heavier, you were starting to get progressively worried. why was she keeping you in place, why was she smelling you like this?? why the fuck was she acting weird??? 

“wonyoung get off of me—“ 

“god your smell.” 

she just kept mumbling that same sentence as she sniffed you all over, gently putting her hand on your neck to keep you secure, making you squirm under her whilst you’re trying to break free from her tight grasp.

in a state of panic, “you’re scaring me wony stop it please—“ 

“stop moving or i swear to god i’ll fucking kill you.” was all she said back, it was dark, but not dark enough to where you couldn’t see her staring at you with that look again. you were shaking by this point, but you obeyed. you stopped moving, in fear of what she was actually going to do to you.

“look at you, being a fucking slut and putting on the body lotion i gave you, always wearing these outfits around me, and you seriously expect me not to do this shit? god, you probably sounded so good washing up too—” she rubbed your inners thighs with her free hand before adding on, 

“what do you want me to do when your ass is out in front of me all the time, y/n? i tried to be nice and do it only when you’re sleeping, but answering the door at midnight in booty shorts and tshirt this tight? baby, you’re asking me to fuck you.” her hand still reaching down to your thighs and squeezing them, hard enough for her acrylic nails to dig in slightly as you winced in pain.

you tried speaking up, but words wouldn’t come out. 

you could only stare at her, tears quickly welling up your eyes. 

“oh angel, don’t cry..” she pouted, quickly taking that same hand she used to hurt you and wiping your tears with it. you could only flinch “i’m so sorry baby, i— i just can’t help it. you look so good and smell so good and—“ she slid her hand up your shirt and quickly went under your bra, playing with the nipple for a few moments almost immediately as she breathed in more of your pheromones before exhaling sharply yet again. “fuck y/n your tits—“ 

“—i’ll be quick, okay? i promise it’ll be fine, i’ll be sooo quick.”

wonyoung very quickly slid her hand back down your crotch as she forcefully kissed you, tightening her grip on your neck whenever you weren’t giving her enough tongue. “come on baby, work for it, i know you want this.” 

you didn’t. you didn’t want it.

her fingers slipping under your shorts and onto your panties, she rubbed circles around your wet clit through the fabric of them, closing her eyes in euphoria when she heard your choked up moan.

“shit.. look at you, being all wet for me. i knew you’ve always wanted me to do this to you. hm? come on, say it.” 

“l-let go off me—“ 

her nails dug into your neck once more, making you whimper. “shut. the fuck. up.” she whispered, “i guess bitches like you shouldn’t be allowed to speak up, huh. that’s fine, we’ll have you be a stupid puppy instead, okay? you can do that, right?” 

you only cried out in front of her, clit still being stimulated from her long and cold fingers. her disturbing gaze piercing through yours, her pretty face exhibiting the ugliest thoughts she had about you. 

“i said, nod, bitch.”

and so, you nodded. eagerly, at that. of course you did, with the amount of strength this girl was putting on her grip, you needed to obey her every word.

even if you had abundant tears rolling down your face.

“you’re so pretty like this.” she breathed out, before kissing you then pulling back away, “you’re getting me so fucking wet y/n.” 

then, she gradually reaches into your underwear and puts her hands on your naked cunt, rubbing the slit and feeling how wet it is. in response to that, she laughed. 

she laughed in your face.

but before you could even process anything, however, she already had two of her fingers buried deep inside your pussy, already curling in all of the right places.

and that’s when you remembered the fact that she had acrylic nails on. 

“w-wonyoung— take them out take them out it h-hurts wonyoung it hurts p-please—“

“i don’t give a shit. you’re gonna be a good fucking girl and take it. you know what’ll happen if you don’t, don’t you?”

she pumped and curled her fingers in and out, watching you as your facial expressions changed with each movement she made, smiling and mocking you.

and that went for what felt like hours. 

until she decided she had enough of you crying and begging for her to stop. she believed that it was, in her words, ‘her turn to feel good’ now.

so she took off her own clothes and rubbed her dripping pussy onto your own, her hand digging into your neck if you moved in a way she didn’t like. 

her words rang in your head, things like “y-you’re so fucking selfish y/n, it’s usually so much better, whenever you’re sound a-asleep peacefully— oh my god.”

it didn’t take long for her to cum, since seeing you sob so prettily made her so unbelievably aroused. and when she did, she just went back to cuddling you. as if you weren’t bleeding from your nose, thighs and neck. as if you weren’t in pain, she just went back to cuddling you.

and you just had to silently cry in her arms. those were the only ones you could do that in at that moment.

[austinswife]

PRANKS DAY — Austin Butler

FROM SERIES — THE BUTLER FAMILY CHRONICLES

SYNOPSIS — Life with Austin Butler has been nothing short of adventurous. Married with a beautiful two-year-old daughter, Wren, you and Austin share a loving relationship built on playfulness, deep affection, and a lot of laughter. One afternoon, while preparing for a photoshoot, you decide to prank Austin by asking him to leave the room while you change. This simple request spirals into a hilarious back-and-forth filled with tender moments, teasing, and the deep love you both share. But when you slip off your wedding and engagement rings, Austin’s playful tone turns serious as he worries he’s done something wrong, setting the stage for an adorable and heartfelt resolution.

WARNING(S) — Fluff, mild nudity references, childbirth mentioned, playful tension.

𝜗𝜚 ALL FEEDBACKS, IDEAS SUGGESTION, REQUEST — TO AUSTINSWIFE

It was one of those lazy, warm afternoons where everything in the house moved just a little slower. Sunlight poured through the large bay windows of your bedroom, dappling across the floor in soft, golden patches. You stood in front of the mirror, shifting through a heap of clothes laid out on the bed, trying to decide on an outfit for an upcoming photoshoot. Meanwhile, your two-year-old daughter, Wren, was bouncing between playing with her stuffed bunny and babbling to herself—seemingly in her own little world.

Austin was on the bed behind you, lying on his back with one leg hanging off the edge, scrolling through his phone in his signature relaxed, slightly-too-cool-for-anything posture. His tousled blonde hair framed his face in soft waves, and every now and then, you’d catch him glancing up from his screen to look at you with that boyish grin he always had, the one that never failed to make your heart do a little flip.

You caught his eye in the mirror and smirked. The idea of stirring things up hit you, because, really, Austin was way too comfortable right now.

“Hey, babe,” you called out casually, holding a top up against yourself and pretending to examine it in the mirror. “Can you leave the room for a sec? I need to change.”

You could feel his gaze snap up, immediately puzzled by your odd request. Austin sat up slightly, propping himself up on one elbow, his expression a mix of amusement and confusion.

“Leave the room?” he repeated, voice dripping with disbelief. “Why would I leave? What, have you gotten shy all of a sudden?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, tossing the top onto the bed and picking up another. “I just need some privacy. No big deal.”

Austin’s eyes narrowed playfully as he swung his legs off the side of the bed and stood up, clearly intrigued by your sudden demand for privacy. He crossed the room slowly, that easy smile tugging at his lips.

“Babe, I’ve seen you naked, like… a million times,” he said, drawing out the words as if this were the most obvious thing in the world. “Privacy doesn’t exist between us anymore.”

You turned your back to him, pretending to concentrate on a dress you’d picked up, but really, you were trying not to laugh. “Yeah, well, maybe I’ve changed. Maybe I want some mystery back.”

“Mystery?” Austin echoed, incredulous. You could hear the smile in his voice as he stepped closer. “Pretty sure we left the mystery behind when we had a kid. I saw you give birth, babe. There is no mystery.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back a grin. “That was different.”

Austin let out a soft chuckle as he came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. “Different? How is it different?”

You leaned back into his embrace, your body relaxing against his even as you tried to maintain the charade. “Because… that was a medical thing. This is just me changing.”

Austin nuzzled your neck, his breath warm against your skin, sending shivers down your spine despite yourself. “You’re saying you’re shy now?” he teased, his lips brushing just below your ear. “With me?”

You could feel the laughter bubbling up in your chest, but you pushed it down. “Yep. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

He pulled back, clearly delighted by this game, though you could sense he was becoming more curious by the second. “You know I’m not leaving, right? I love watching you change.”

You turned in his arms, raising an eyebrow as if his statement was the most absurd thing you’d heard all day. “You love watching me change? Really?”

Austin’s grin widened, his blue eyes sparkling mischievously. “Absolutely. It’s one of the perks of the job.”

You tried to hold back a smile but failed miserably. “Wow, romantic.”

His hands slipped to your hips as he leaned down to kiss you softly, murmuring, “You knew that going in.”

You kissed him back, feeling warmth spread through you, but then decided to up the ante of your prank. Slowly, you pulled away, letting your hand fall casually to your side. Without making a big deal of it, you slipped your engagement ring and wedding band off and set them on the dresser next to you.

Austin’s brow furrowed immediately. His hands stilled on your waist as he caught the movement, his gaze flicking to your now bare finger. “Wait… what are you doing?”

You kept your expression neutral, pretending to be absorbed in sorting through the clothes again. “Oh, nothing,” you said breezily. “Just taking these off for now.”

Austin’s eyes narrowed further, the playfulness in his voice ebbing into something more cautious. “You never take your rings off, unless… Is something wrong?”

There it was—his vulnerability creeping in. You felt a tiny pang of guilt for messing with him, but it was just too funny to stop now.

“Nope, nothing’s wrong,” you replied nonchalantly, pulling a random top from the bed and holding it up in front of the mirror.

“Are you mad at me or something?” Austin asked, his voice quieter now. He reached for your hand, lifting it up as if to confirm that the rings were really gone. “I mean… you wouldn’t take these off for no reason.”

You fought back a grin, turning to face him with an exaggerated sigh. “I just… don’t know. Maybe I’m rethinking this whole marriage thing.”

His face paled slightly, and his fingers tightened around your hand. “Wait… what?” His voice cracked with a mix of confusion and panic. “What do you mean you’re rethinking it?”

You couldn’t hold it in any longer—you burst out laughing. Austin’s face shifted from concern to utter disbelief as the sound of your laughter filled the room.

“Oh my God, babe!” you gasped, doubling over. “You should’ve seen your face! You looked so freaked out!”

Austin blinked, still trying to process what had just happened. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he finally groaned, running a hand through his hair. “You were… messing with me?” His voice rose in exasperation. “You were messing with me the whole time?”

You nodded, wiping a tear from your eye as you tried to catch your breath. “I couldn’t resist! You should’ve seen how worried you looked! It was priceless.”

Austin shook his head, a mix of relief and frustration crossing his features. “I seriously thought I did something. You had me thinking I was gonna have to, like, apologize for something I didn’t even know I did.”

“Well, you didn’t do anything,” you said, still giggling. “But now I know how easy it is to freak you out.”

“Oh, trust me, I’m not letting this one go,” he muttered, though his lips were twitching with a reluctant smile.

Just as the playful banter settled between you, Wren decided to make her presence known. “Mama! Dada! Look!” she chirped, toddling over with her bunny raised high above her head like a trophy.

Austin’s expression softened instantly, and he bent down, scooping Wren into his arms with ease. She giggled as he swung her up into the air, her little face lighting up with delight.

“Look at you, Wrennie!” he cooed, pressing a kiss to her cheek as she squealed in response. “Such a big girl with your bunny.”

You watched them with a smile, warmth spreading through your chest at the sight of your husband and daughter together. Austin held her close, planting kisses all over her cheeks, and Wren dissolved into fits of giggles.

“She saved me,” Austin teased, giving you a pointed look. “If it weren’t for this little one, I’d be in pieces.”

You laughed and stepped closer, wrapping your arms around both of them. “Okay, okay, I promise not to prank you for a while. Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Austin quirked a brow. “You know, payback’s gonna be sweet.”

“I’m not scared,” you shot back, sticking out your tongue playfully.

“Oh, you should be,” he whispered, leaning in close with that playful glint in his eyes. “You should be very scared.”

Before you could respond, Wren wriggled between you two, demanding attention. “Mama, kiss!” she babbled, pointing at Austin’s cheek.

You grinned, leaning in to plant a kiss where Wren had directed. Then Austin turned, giving you a quick peck on the lips, his expression softening as he looked at you.

“See?” he said quietly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Our little family. No one’s going anywhere.”

You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder, your hand gently running down Wren’s back as she snuggled between you. “No one’s going anywhere,” you repeated softly.

The three of you stood there for a moment, wrapped up in the warmth of each other, the playful prank long forgotten as the afternoon sun bathed the room in a golden glow.

And as you looked at Austin, holding your daughter close, you couldn’t help but feel that this—this beautiful, messy, love-filled life—was everything you’d ever dreamed of.

[lyvhie]

do you write for chenle? if so could i request angry sex with chenle? and plotwise/anything else can be up to you, you always make such creative works 😍

desert island | zcl

boyfriend!chenle x fem!reader (18+ mdni)

summary: a stupid little game seems to be enough to make you speak with recklessness and throw reason out of the window in the heat of the moment. but since you were unwilling to be so easily placated, chenle was decided to talk some sense into you.

a/n: sorry for being so late, anon 😭! ofc i write for chenle, how could i not?! thank you for the kind words, i hope you like it!! 😚

cw: smut, use of 'whore' (only once), hair pulling, slighty spanking, begging, reader is DRAMATIC, chenle is kinda mean, petnames.

honestly, you can't think of a better partner than chenle. he's always so sweet, caring, and considerate, and you could talk for days about every single thing you love about him because you really love him a lot.

the same applies to chenle, who thinks you're so perfect for him. every time he wakes up and looks at you beside him in bed, he can't help but think how lucky he is to have someone like you by his side.

arguments in your relationship were rare, but not non-existent. like any kind of relationship between two people, disagreements occasionally arose.

you generally handle them with a mature conversation about the issue once the dust has settled, addressing the problem and coming to a mutually-agreed solution. however, sometimes, you both seem to be unable to agree on a resolution to the problem at hand. that was the case now.

it was a real stupid argument. you were released from work early and figured it would be a good idea to stop by the studio to see chenle and head home with him. as it turns out, it was a surprise when you showed up without prior warning, but he was happy to see you and it made your visit all the more meaningful.

during chenle's break time, the dreamies were engaged in a light and silly conversation about "who would you take to a deserted island." it was an innocent little game to pass the time and have some fun. when it was chenle's turn to answer, he surprised you by not choosing you, but one of his staff’s. this simple and seemingly harmless choice was the root of your trivial fight.

you didn't react immediately, simply laughed it off as if it was nothing but chenle could tell that something was off the moment you both got into the car. the car ride was unusually silent on your end, and chenle began to brace himself as he realized you were upset about something. he mentally prepared himself for whatever he felt was about to come as you walked through the front door.

"so..." he began in a gentle but careful tone, sensing there was an underlying issue you weren't being open about.

"nothing," you casually responded with a shrug, walking off and towards the bedroom. "it's nothing," you repeated again, but he wasn't fooled by your tone.

following close behind you, he asked another question, "is it me? did i do something to upset you?" he raised his eyebrows at you expectantly, wanting to get to the bottom of the problem.

"no" was all the response you gave him, short and sharp just like before. as you continued into the bedroom and began to tidy up the already clean room, he leaned casually against the doorframe and observed you closely. he didn't say a word because he knew he would just have to wait until the "you know what's funny?" and there it was, your signature phrase for when you're in a bad mood, spoken in a slightly annoyed tone. he knew this would be coming.

"no," he said calmly and crossed his arms, looking directly at you and watching you make some futile attempts to find anything out of place in the already immaculate room. "please, enlighten me," his gaze intent as he awaited the inevitable moment of venting that always ensued after that phrase.

"of course you wouldn't," you replied back, feigning innocent ignorance and even rolling your eyes as you dramatically shook your head and sighed. "i didn't expect you to have kept a list of all the female entertainers you would consider taking to a desert island. so why don't you enlighten me on your priorities?”

for a moment, chenle's eyebrows were raised in a mix of confusion and slight surprise as he heard your words, genuinely believing that you were joking or being sarcastic. then came his soft laugh, as he was almost incredulous that you kept up this attitude with your arms crossed and a serious expression. "baby," he spoke gently but firm as a warning, "you can't be serious right now. it was an innocent little game that you shouldn't take so seriously.”

"oh really?” your words laced with mockery. “an innocent little game? then it shouldn't bother you to explain to me why i wasn't even on your radar. it was a stupid game but your answers just proved to me that i'm an afterthought, even in your fantasies. at least in your fantasy of the women you'd be willing to take to a godforsaken place with no hope for escape. so am i so insignificant that i didn't even make the cut for you?”

chenle pauses for a second to process the situation and your words, running his hand through his hair in an almost unconscious gesture of self-soothing. if he didn't know you better, he would've thought you were crazy, but after that incident with the stupid "worm" question, he knows that you're just dramatic.

he approaches you, cupping your face in his warm hands as he gazes at you.

"baby, please," he pleads, the affection evident in his voice as he tries to reason with you. "look at me," he says softly, using his palms to gently guide your eyes to focus on him. once your eyes meet, the intensity of his gaze deepens as his expression softens and his voice grows more gentle. "this was just an innocent game and you're blowing it out of proportion. please don't be like this. i love you and you know it. there's no other woman that compares to the love i have for you, not in a thousand lifetimes would i ever take anyone else over you. you're mine and always will be.”

even though you could sense the sincerity and love behind his words, you maintained a guarded demeanor, refusing to give in to it until you were completely satisfied with his explanation.

you know, you had a sharp tongue and an even sharper intelligence than some could imagine when you chose to use it. unfortunately, this was a time where the first worked, but the second didn't.

“well, it seems that you just have to be on a desert island to fool around with someone else, right? you just want to enjoy some fun and pleasure while away from the world,” your tone became sarcastic as you continued challenging his words and reasoning. “so who are you going to enjoy it with?”

your thoughtless words brought you to this moment. one of chenle's hands was intertwined between the strands of your hair in a tight grip, pushing your head against the softness of the mattress, forcing you to stay with you ass up. your eyes slightly red, your face puffy and wet, both from sweat and crying.

“fucking. stubborn. whore,” he spit out, each of his words was accompanied by sharp thrusts that made your bones shake and you gasp, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. “can't listen to what i say for not even a damn minute,” he slapped your ass hard, making you whine and your eyes water again.

you lost track of time during this torment. it felt like torturous hours, where he kept teasing, edging you, not even letting you touch him, your ass was already marked by his hands, you felt the sting of each spank he gave, saying that brats like you don't deserve to feel good.

chenle knows you with the palm of his hands, he knows what you like, what makes you melt and he would definitely use it against you. his slow but powerful thrusts hit all the right spots that make you see stars behind your eyelids, his hand slipping between your legs to rub your clit in equally slow circles.

“…. ase…” your tiny, teary voice echoed through his ears. “oh?” he scoffs, pulling you by your hair until you were close enough for him to whisper in your ear. “i can't hear you, say it again,” his warm tongue sliding through your neck, sending you goosebumps.

“p-please…” you raised your tone slightly. “i'm so, so sorry, chenle,” the desperation and pleading in your voice is obvious, as is the remorse that you felt for your actions. “please, please, let me cum, please, just once, please,” the need seeping through every word, begging for relief and satisfaction.

a smug grin crept up his face when he heard your desperate tone. he loved how hopeless you sounded. he loosened his grip on your hair, pulling you into a kiss as he stopped his thrusts to savor the moment. his hand moved away from your clit to held your cheek as his tongue invaded your mouth, completely taking over the kiss.

your emotional state was so volatile right now that you honestly felt like crying. chenle knew that you loved kissing him, and by constantly pushing you away, he knew it was torturing you. your attempts at kissing him were met with a painful slap to your cunt, almost as punishment for trying to force yourself on him.

this simple yet deeply cherished kiss was enough to make you melt completely. you were yearning to feel this level of affection again after he kept pushing you away from him, it was all you were craving since he pushed you down onto the bed and shoved his cock inside your pussy.

as he pulled away from your lips, leaving you desperate for more, he let out a short, breath laugh at your reaction. he found it amusing how you chased after him to continue the kiss, but he was quick to remind you who was in control here by just pulling on your hair to keep you in place, making you whine pathetically.

"well," he purred against your ear, moving his hand caressingly over your body. he made lazy circles on your soft skin, lingering on your belly, you suddenly felt him be a lot more gentle. "since you asked so nicely, should i give you what you want, baby?" he raised an eyebrow teasingly as he waited for a response from you and all you could do was nod fiercely, letting small pleas of "yes, please" roll off your tongue as you awaited his move.

chenle hummed, feigning deep thought as he observed your face. He worked hard to maintain his composure and keep from showing his mischievous, devilish smile as he saw the light of hope that your expression lit up. "okay," he said finally, "i think you seemed remorseful enough,” his words were enough to bring a jolt of excitement to your system, you felt a rush of adrenaline course through your veins and every single muscle in your body tensed up, waiting intently for him to give you what you wanted.

with a light kiss on your lips, he turned you over and positioned you so you were laying on your back. hands that had recently been mistreating you were now caressing your body delicately, as if you were the most delicate thing ever made. his kisses traced your jawline before moving to your neck and breasts, making you think that the wait had been worth it. the punishment had ended here and he made you believe that the only thing you deserved now was his gentle touch and loving kisses.

he straightened his back, the movement causing his hands to move from your sides to the back of your thighs. in one swift motion, he lifted your legs and pressed your knees against your chest, and the sharp sob that escaped your lips was all the confirmation he needed that he has you right where he wanted you.

you felt his tip teasing your clit and your entrance, your pussy glistening from how wet you already were, his hard cock sliding inside you without any difficulty, your warm, gummy walls welcoming him as he filled any remaining space in your pussy.

“you feel so good, don't you?” his eyes fluttered shut in pleasure, and a low grunt slipped past his lips as he threw his head back slightly in a gesture of complete relaxation. he would never tire of this feeling that was almost overwhelming at this point. this applied to you as well, your hands gripping the sheets tightly as you moaned softly, feeling just how deep inside of you he was.

“you feel so damn good,” he whispered in a low, husky tone as he begins to thrust into you relentlessly, his tip kissing your cervix every time his hips slammed back into you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the feeling.

he increased the pace, leaning closer towards you. the full weight of his body was now pressing onto you, keeping you down and pinned to the bed but there's no resistance from you as you are simply overwhelmed by his size and intensity.

he had been playing with you for such a long time that it didn't take very much effort at all to push you over the edge. your moaning and whimpering got louder, your body tense and your breathing more shallow. your voice was coming out in a pitch that was nearly unrecognizable, with a few "thank you's" and some other incoherent words escaping your lips, your pussy clenching around him—he recognized this as the ultimate sign that you were approaching your orgasm.

“are you close, baby?” he asked even though he already knew the answer. “y-ye—” you were interrupted again by another hard thrust that made you let out a soft yelp. he grunted as he felt your muscles clenching around him once more, gripping him tightly. “c-chenle,” you mewled his name, “i-i’m gonna c-cu—”

before you could finish your sentence, he was quick to pull out of you, releasing the grip on your legs, making you let out a soft whine in disbelief when he pulled out without letting you finish, and all you could do was lie there as a deep emptiness washed over your body, your walls now clenching around nothing. you look at him with wide, teary eyes and trembling lips.

chenle’s grin widens when he watched your expression, a look of disappointment on your face as you realized you didn't get to cum as he made you think. he was satisfied in the knowledge that he had denied you the satisfaction you wanted and was pleased with how desperate and frustrated you were looking at him.

"aww, is my baby about cry? " he mocked you, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he reached out to wipe away the tear-filled eyes that now betrayed you. his hand lightly traced the curve of your face, moving slowly and tauntingly, as if he was enjoying your helpless reaction far too much. “that’s what you get for acting like a spoiled little brat,” his voice filled with condescension as watched how your emotional state seemed to sink lower and lower as a result of his words.

"you thought i would just let you have it your way?” he scoffed and shook his head at your naivety. "i thought you would know better by now, baby," his voice taking on a false empathetic edge as he leaned in closer. his voice became softer, his lips pressing lovingly against yours for a quick peek. "aww, no, no, don't cry," he echoed the soothing words with another kiss, teasingly brushing away the tears with his finger. "if you beg good enough, i might give you what you want."

[lilliumrorum]

What does he have that I don't? (Part Two)

<<Previous | Masterlist | Next>>

Synopsis: After getting comfortable in your captain's dwelling, you experience a dream involving him, intensifying your desire for the man.

WC: 3k

Content/Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Soft Price, fluff, Cheating, kind of pining?, Wet dreams, Masturbation.

Notes: Sorry this took so long to post, I've had lots of fucking issues with tumblr and I am proper pissed off. Exams have been kicking my ass too, but I'll make sure to write an extra long chapter next time!

In this situation, unlike others, you wouldn't yearn for Simon's touch. The absence of affection from him for months has built a resistance to missing that once addictive sensation. Tears welled up once more as you reflected on the abuse endured just to cling to the shattered fragments of your 'relationship'. Desiring a different reality, you found yourself in a challenging situation, torn between lingering feelings for your lost love and developing admiration for your captain.

Concluding the scorching shower, the realization struck that a towel was forgotten. Cheeks burning with embarrassment, you pondered how such a simple thing could be overlooked. An uneasy hope lingered that the captain remained undisturbed in his slumber, as a preemptive guilt surfaced. The idea of waking him up intensified that internal conflict, leaving you in a contemplative state after the steam had dissipated. Standing there, damp and hesitant, you grappled with the consequences of a neglected towel and the possibility of disrupting your captain's peace.

Your hand unlocked the door, cracking it open just a bit.

"John?"

"Mm?" His deep voice echoed from the couch.

You felt a sense of relief upon realizing he wasn't in bed yet.

"I… may have forgotten to grab a towel," you admitted with a nervous tone.

You heard his soft footsteps moving down the hall and passing by the bathroom. As soon they approached the room you made sure to narrow the crack of the open door, ensuring you wouldn't accidentally flash him. A sturdy silhouette stood behind it, holding a towel. Cautiously peeking around, you gently retrieve it from his grasp.

He stared at you for a moment, gazing at your damp hair and shoulders before seemingly snapping out of it.

"Don't make my floor too wet, Sergeant." He said with a breath before trekking back to the couch.

You slowly closed the door, releasing a heavy breath you didn't realize you were holding. It felt as if butterflies had been swirling around in your stomach, cheeks burning like fire as you tried to comprehend what had just happened. The butterflies were nothing novel; in fact, they were a constant presence. Every time you worked near him your heart fluttered.

The salt-and-pepper mustache that quirked up when he smiled made your heart do flips. His hands, aged yet firm, with thick fingers calloused from years of service made you fantasize about what they would feel like inside you. The quick waves you received when he walked past you, his combat pants fitting him just right made for an easy distraction. Doing paperwork with him late at night presented itself a challenge. Your brain was constantly fuzzy whenever you looked at him.

At this point, you couldn't distinguish whether it was him making you shudder or your own nakedness. The stark contrast in temperature from your shower to the chilling air heightened your eagerness to get dressed. The towel rubbing against your skin brought a soothing sensation to your mind, interrupting your thoughts about him.

"You did so good f'me, lovie. Such a good fucking girl." He praised, slowly pulling out of your fluttering cunt.

You whimpered at the feeling of being empty after being stuffed full for so long.

"I love you, Simon." you whispered breathlessly.

He gazed at you, searching your eyes for some sort of hidden plan, or trickery. He found nothing but adoration.

"I love you too." He whispered as he got up, searching for the towel he had placed somewhere, you reached out and gently wrapped your hand around as much of his toned arm as you could before he moved too far.

He glanced at you, his expression filled with curiosity.

"Si, can you promise me something?"

"What is it doll?"

"Don't leave me."

"What kinda promise is that? I'm never gonna leave you. Hell, I'm stuck on you."

You smiled at his words.

But he broke that promise. He left you, a ghost in his place.

"Captain, is it alright if I get dressed in the bedroom?" You uttered your words with a delicate tone as you stepped out into the hall.

His head shifted in the direction of your voice, his attention lingering on your legs briefly before his gaze ascended to meet your face. He stared at you for what seemed like an eternity. Your posture started to shift as nervousness crept in, especially with his eyes on your barely covered body. He seemed to take notice, offering a smile before he spoke.

"Of course dove, that's where you're sleeping anyway." He spoke with a tone that held weariness.

"Oh no you don't ha-" as soon as you spoke you were interrupted.

"I said that's where you're sleepin' and that's that. Don't argue with me, sergeant." He commanded.

You raised your hands in the air, signaling surrender, before letting out a laugh and walking back to his bedroom.

The scent of everything was reminiscent of him, when you opened his closet, the aroma of cinnamon and pine struck you instantly. You breathed in his scent and felt a bit more at ease. Why did everything about him have to evoke such a strong sense of comfort and familiarity?

If you didn't move past this childlike crush soon, you'd end up with more issues than you're already grappling with. He could be your father for Christ's sake!

You shook your head, as if the thought would dissipate, while grabbing some pajama shorts and a tank top. The clothes were rather revealing, but John would surely understand if he saw them. Your intention was to return home to Simon, not to him. When you left, there was no time to retrieve your clothes, as you aimed to escape the situation as smoothly as possible.

Your body ached for sleep, going without it for what seemed like ages.

Turning the light off and slipping into bed, a subtle shift occurred in your thoughts, and the image of John began to weave its way into your consciousness like a gentle melody. In the calm moments preceding sleep, his laughter echoed, and the warmth of his gaze painted the canvas of your contemplations. The memory of John intertwined seamlessly with the comforting embrace of his sheets, creating a space where the lines between reality and the fanciful dance of imagination became hazy. With each closing of your eyes, dreams unfolded, casting John as the silent protagonist in the tales that quietly unfolded in the realm of your weary mind.

In the silent corners of your thoughts, dreams took shape, painting a picture where you were romantically involved with John. Scenes of stolen glances and hidden meetings unfolded, with the forbidden nature of it all adding an exhilarating edge to the fantasy. In these vivid dreams, shared moments created a connection that surpassed the ordinary reality surrounding you. However, these fantasies were kept as a personal refuge—a brief escape within the private chambers of your mind, where the blurred lines of possibility flirted with the edges of longing.

"Tell me what you want, dove. What do you need from me?" he breathed in a solaced whisper.

His rugged hands worked at your body, roaming across your naked form as you tried your hardest to utter a word, mumbling nonsense. He hadn't taken your panties off yet, the cloth becoming more and more wet by the second.

"Words, sweetheart. I need to know what you want from me." His fingers teasing your clit in soft, circular motions.

"John- Oh shit! I need them inside! Please!" You practically sobbed.

Everything in this moment completed you. His waist was stationed between your legs as he continued his ministrations on your cunt. At this point you were a whining mess for him. You were too distracted with your pleasure to realize he had pulled your panties to the side, thick fingers lined up with your sopping hole.

"God, you're perfect."

The captain's eyes snapped open upon hearing sounds emanating from the bedroom. Initially thinking it might be crying, he knocked on the door once.

With no response, he opened the door to investigate, finding you helplessly whimpering and pressing your thighs together in your sleep.

He was well Aware that intruding was not right, but he lingered a little longer, drawn by the sweet serenade of your voice. Going back to bed at this moment seemed impossible for him. His cock straining against his pants as discomfort grew, urging him to address it promptly.

He treaded back to the couch, every step carrying an enduring strain to his crotch. Fuck, those noises were driving him wild.

He knows it's not right, yet he pulled out his erection anyway. He needed relief, blood rushing to the tip as it sprung out of his pants. His arousal was yearning for a momentary reprieve.

He groaned as he started fisting his cock, guttural groans coming from his chest as he chased his release. His eyes fluttered closed, Imagining you spread out for him, begging for whatever he could give you. Your pretty body writhing underneath him while you worked in sync to reach that peak. Nails scratching at his back with each forceful thrust of his hips. He tried to stay as silent as he could, listening to the melody of your sounds. He tried to savor your sounds, prolonging his orgasm to the best of his ability. He couldn't hold it any longer, somewhat embarrassed at how fast he was going to finish.

The familiar feeling of his climax began to reach him, his lower abdomen flexing harshly with each stroke.

"Fuck"

His sticky cum flowed over him fingers as it spilled out from his twitching tip.

This was wrong, but god did it feel so fucking right.

Throughout the night, Simon couldn't shake the image of your shocked and saddened expression from his thoughts. All he longed for was to have you back with him at home. Who the fuck were you with anyway?

As the minutes stretched into hours, Simon's chest tightened with an unsettling jealousy. The anticipation of your return became a weighty burden, and the quiet emptiness of the house echoed his longing. He had watched you leave, hope clinging to the belief that you would soon walk back through the door. However, as the night wore on and you failed to return, that hope transformed into a bitter ache. Each passing moment fueled the jealousy that churned within him, a mix of fear and insecurity. The empty house seemed to mock his unspoken yearning, amplifying the silence that enveloped him in a suffocating embrace.

The air hung heavy with tension when Johnny left the house, the weight of your discovery lingering in the strained atmosphere. The revelation of the affair had cast a pall over the once-shared space, leaving behind a palpable sense of betrayal. The door closed with a hollow finality, echoing the rupture in trust that now defined the relationship. He laid there in your empty bed, the aftermath of your revelation settling like dust in the room, and the emptiness of the departing footsteps mirrored the void that now consumed the once-shared moments with Johnny. The silence that followed was deafening, amplifying your absence.

When you left he was still pent up with arousal, so him and Johnny went a couple rounds, but he soon had to leave to get enough rest before the sun rose. With both of you no longer present, he truly began to realize he was alone.

Jealousy gnawed at Simon as he grappled with the unsettling uncertainty of your whereabouts. Each passing moment fueled his imagination, and he found himself consumed by thoughts of who you might be staying with. The unanswered questions echoed in his mind, creating a symphony of doubt and insecurity. The image of someone else occupying the space meant for him sparked a surge of possessiveness, leaving him yearning for the reassurance that you were still his. The silent house became a canvas for his anxious thoughts, and the suspense of not knowing intensified the monster within him, clouding his emotions with a turbulent mix of suspicion and anger.

Just who the fuck did you think you were, leaving like that?

He felt his jaw clench, thinking of you with someone other than him.

Every thought of someone else near you ignited a primal instinct to claim and protect what he considered his own. The mere idea of sharing your presence with another set off a storm of dominance, intensifying his need to assert his presence in your life. It was as if an invisible tether bound him to you, and the thought of anyone encroaching upon that connection stirred a fierce determination to safeguard what he considered rightfully his.

Sleep eluded him, elusive as his thoughts were ensnared in a web of restlessness. The weight of emotions, a mix of envy, dominance, and yearning, kept him tossing and turning in the dim silence of his bedroom. The shadows on the walls seemed to dance to the rhythm of his unsettled mind, casting a surreal atmosphere that mirrored the turmoil within. The bed, usually a sanctuary, became a battleground for his inner struggles. The clock's ticking echoed like a constant reminder of the sleep he desperately sought but remained just out of reach. The night stretched on, a canvas painted with the shades of his unquiet thoughts, as he wrestled with the myriad emotions that held him captive in the wake of the events that unfolded.

Awakening to the robust aroma of tea wafting into your nose, you stretched out your well-rested limbs before swinging your legs over the side of the captain's bed. The lingering remnants of the dream from the night before clouded your thoughts, creating a palpable tension in the air. As you pondered how to navigate the interaction with him, uncertainty hung like a veil. The simple act of rising from the bed felt like stepping onto uncharted territory, and the fragrant tea served as a reminder of the shared space that had witnessed the intimate contours of your dreams. The challenge ahead lay in reconciling the vivid images of the night with the reality of the morning, as you grappled with the aftermath of the subconscious journey that now lingered between you and the captain.

You approached the bedroom door, turning the handle and stepping into the hallway that led to the kitchen. The journey down the corridor felt like a deliberate exploration, each step carrying a subtle anticipation. As you entered the kitchen, a captivating sight awaited you – the captain, turned away, engrossed in some task involving the kettle. The play of muscles beneath his skin was a spectacle, every inch defined and visible, yet soft. His silhouette painted a picture of strength and concentration, a moment frozen in time that captured the essence of his physicality. The air in the kitchen seemed charged with an energy that transcended the simple act of making tea, as you silently observed, feeling both a sense of intimacy and a respectful distance in the presence of this private moment.

"Good morning, Sergeant. thought I'd get some tea ready for ya."

You listened intently, and there was a warmth in the captain's voice as he completed the tea-making ritual. Even though you couldn't see his face, the audible smile in his words painted a vivid picture. The sound carried a gentle resonance, echoing the pleasure he took in the simple act of preparing tea. It was a melody of contentment, and the timbre of his voice conveyed a subtle joy that surpassed the mundane task. As you stood there, the audible smile became a shared moment in the quiet kitchen, a connection forged through the familiar sounds of morning rituals and the understanding that lingered between you and the captain.

"Thank you, Captain. For all of this. I owe you one."

The dual impact of your words and the vivid recollection combined to color his complexion with a subtle embarrassment. It was as if the mere mention of his title held a key to unlock a realm of thoughts he hadn't anticipated sharing. The involuntary flush revealed a vulnerability, a momentary glimpse into a private mental landscape stirred by arousal that lingered beyond the confines of last night. In that fleeting blush, a complex interplay of emotions unfolded, creating a connection between now and what he had done last night that had left its mark on the captain's waking thoughts.

"You owe me nothin', dove. Hush up and drink your tea." He uttered, handing you a partially hot cup of the chamomile beverage.

"Anything planned for today?" You asked while softly blowing on your tea.

"PT, but It's going to be different today, so don't you worry about lieutenant."

His words had the exact opposite effect on you. You were most definitely worrying about Simon.

Taglist: @ttsbaby01 @waves-against-a-cliff @konigslittleliebling @imjustheretofightforlove @beebeechaos @mikimumiki @splaterparty0-0

[thewulf]

My Queen || Aragorn

Summary: Request - Can I pleeeease send you an idea where he finds a girl in the woods, hurt and not conscious but he feels the need to help her and be close to her. So he takes care of her wounds till she wakes up and it's like true love at first sight for both of them... Read Rest Here

A/N: OH WOW, this got out of hand QUICK but I had SO MUCH FUNNNN writing this way! It was a challenge but it felt invigorating to write. I am obsessed with Aragorn and I just love him. Margot Robbie is so right for her cinematic crush! Thank you for the request anon, hope you love it :)

Pairing: Aragorn x Reader

Word Count: 10,000 +

TW: Violence, orc violence, poison, death, blood, crying, angst, lotr warnings, Aragorn being hot af

Just a few more stumbling steps. You could do it. Glancing down you grimaced at the crimson coated and tattered dress that you’d been wearing for the last five or so days. It used to be so gorgeous, a gift from the man you were meant to wed. Truly it was the only exquisite gift you’d ever received in your entirety. However now it looked as if it’d seen a thousand lives, just like the elves had. It bore this resemblance due to the attack on your home. You ran. Running far away from everything you knew. It was tough to grasp just how much you’d been through in the five days since you had to flee your small village just outside of Eriador.

You’d had a good life. Good but rather simple. Almost too simple for your taste. You were engaged to be wed to the local jewelers son at your father’s doing. He had assured you over and over again that going through with the wedding would lead you to a life that he could not provide you. A life you were destined for. Your mother, Valar rest her soul, had been killed a few years prior in an attack on your village leaving you with your father and a small place to live. But it was home.

The local jeweler boy, Newall, had asked you to take a walk around the village right before the tragic events occurred. One moment you were giving him your kindest smile. The next he pushed you into the woods after hearing the screaming coming from the village center. Not making your most brilliant decision you decided to follow behind him only to come to the horrifying realization that your seemingly insignificant village was being brutalized by Orc’s. You stood there frozen in fear as you witnessed men, women and children being slain as if they meant nothing. 

It was only when you came face to face with one that you realized how much trouble you were in. Valar save you. He must’ve listened because the Orc simply look at you, growled and pushed you into the side of the house you were standing next to. But then it dawned on you that he wasn’t done. The creature walked to you terrifyingly slow, standing over you before driving it’s sword into your side. Before you could even yelp out in pain the orc vanished leaving you to die presumably. But it was a shallow wound. It didn’t seem like it was trying to do too much damage. Orcs knew one thing, killing. It was odd that one would have spared you.

When you finally came back to the reality of the situation you knew you had to go. Run to Bree. Your dad always instructed that’s where you needed to go. You had an uncle up there that could look after you. Deciding not to waste another second you rushed inside the house grabbing whatever clothing you could find. Tying a pair of Newall’s pants around your waste to hopefully stop the bleeding you only grabbed a little bit of food before you made for the forest. You’d have to find something along the way. The trek to Bree would take nearly a month on foot.

Using the stars as guidance you moved through the forest you knew very well. It started out fine. You were trained to do just this. Your father had made sure of it. What you hadn’t considered was the poison from the orc blade that was slowly taking its toll on your body. It was the fourth night that you realized you were in serious trouble. On the fifth day you decided you weren’t going to be able to go any further. No wonder the Orc didn’t just kill you there. He left you to suffer. What a vile creation. 

It didn’t take you long to decide on where you wanted to die. You found a nice tree under the shade of the leaved with a comfortable base. You were just going to go to sleep and hopefully never wake up. Hopefully the poison would just do what it wanted to and let you finally go. 

That did not happen though. You felt a light kick on your boot forcing your eyes to open. What you weren’t expecting was a rather handsome looking ranger with ice blue eyes to be staring right at you. Considering what to do.

“Miss,” He knelt down after whispering something to his horse, “Are you injured?” His surprisingly concerned eyes spotted the blood that coated your worn-down dress.

Taking a long breath, you mustered enough strength to answer the stranger, “Yea, Master Ranger.” You let your head lean back on the trunk of the tree relieving the strain it seemed to put on year mere consciousness.

“Forgive me, but you do not look it miss.” His head was level with yours as he moved closer to you. He didn’t dare touch you without your permission, but he wanted too, you were not all right like you so miserably tried to convince him.

A shallow breath escaped you, “I fear I have been stabbed by an Orc blade Ranger. I do not have much longer.” Your eyes flicked away from his in a pathetic attempt to rid him of the conversation. He would have no such thing though. Leave a fair maiden to perish on her own? Not on his accord.

“Strider.” He corrected you. It wasn’t often he’d give out his Ranger known name to strangers, but you seemed harmless enough. What could a human woman such as yourself have done to deserve such a fate he wondered before continuing on, “We are but a half days journey to a small town called Sarn Ford. Have you heard of it miss?” He asked in hopes of seeing your eyes open once more.

You did as he wished and looked at him again, “Sarn Ford? Oh dear. I’ve gone the wrong direction.” You grimaced in pain as you tried to sit up higher on the tree trunk.

“Where are traveling to miss? On your own?” He held out an open hand for you to take. He left the decision on if you’d accept the help up to you.

Eyeing his hand, you knew he was prying. But he seemed trustworthy. The Rangers of the North were meant to be. Strider as he called himself. Your eyes met his again and you caved right then and there. He looked genuine, like he thought he could actually help you. Like you were not too far gone. With all the strength you could muster in your quickly fading body you put your hand in his, “Aye. My village was attacked by orcs. Third time in the last five years. They got me this time.” You sighed trying your hardest to stay conscious, “I was meant to travel to Bree. But I must have taken to the wrong direction. I will be blaming the Orc poison for the misdirection.” You let out a pained laugh trying to lighten the tone of the conversation going on between the two of you.

“All right. Off we go. What is your name?” He asked you needing to know to continue.

He watched you intently sputter out the words you were trying to get out. His fear of orc poison was right, you truly did not have that much time left. With your permission he scooped you up in his arms, called his horse over and positioned you in front of him while he rode. He knew you did not have enough strength to hold on from behind. He knew It would be a challenge to keep you upright on the journey back to Sarn Ford. He was meeting Gandalf there, anyway, might as well help the woman who he had taken a fast liking towards. Even Strider could see the beauty in things, and you were mighty beautiful in his eyes. Even coated in layers of dirt and grime he knew you shined like a star above him.

“Y/N.” You admitted to the man not feeling up to lying to him. You would likely be dead before dawn anyway. You would have hoped he would find a way to let anybody surviving know of your unfortunate fate. But in reality you were just another causality of war. A human life cut far too short.

“Lovely name.” He smiled lowly as he held you into him. He could feel you were fading in and out of consciousness as he held onto your waist tightly.

You hummed in thanks not having the strength to reply to him.

“Hold on miss Y/N. We will be there soon.” He spoke into your ear startling you back onto the middle earth side of consciousness.

But as much as he tried you had succumbed to your own fate. Blackness took over before you reached the village of Sarn Ford.

Much to your own surprise your eyes opened once more. You peaked around seeing all sorts of supplies. You must have been in some sort of healers room you concluded quickly. Looking down you were not in your attire you had been found in but a simple dress that you were more accustomed too. Being so caught up in your own accord you had yet to see the two men. Well one man and one wizard standing off to the side conversing as you came back to reality.

“Welcome young one.” The wizard spoke. You had never seen one before. Thought they were the thing of legends. But sure, as it would be one stood before you. They were easy to spot. Had an aura about them.

Your eyes snapped back to Striders looking at him in surprise. He was more handsome than you remembered as the sun beat down on his features through the window in the hut you were in, “It is all right.” He nodded at you, “This is Gandalf the Grey, he is an old friend of mine.”

“Hello Gandalf.” You broke your eyes away from the stranger your somewhat knew and turned your head towards the wizard.

“How are you fairing?” He asked whilst leaning onto his cane.

“Fine now. Thank you.” You turned toward Strider who made his way closer, “Thank you Strider. For without you I fear I may have been dead by now.” A shiver of realization ripped down your spine as you admitted it out loud.

He bowed his head, “I am honored to have been of service miss Y/N.” You looked over to him giving him a bashful smile. He was really so handsome. More handsome than any of the boys or men in your small village.

“Are you well enough to travel?” Gandalf asked breaking the trance the two of you had been locked in for a moment too long to be just friendly glances. Gandalf was considered wise for a reason. He had an inkling feeling there was something budding between his usually broody friend and the pretty human girl he had found in the woods. Maybe you were his gift from Valar. Every great leader needed one. Who was Gandalf to question the gods.

“I believe so.” You sat you wincing only slightly as the wound in your side. Strider wanted nothing more than to push you back down and curse the wizard who suggested you move so soon.

“Miss Y/N. You need to rest a little longer.” He insisted placing a gentle hand on your shoulder preventing you from standing.

Gandalf grumbled, “You must get to the Prancing Pony Inn. I’m going to meet Frodo now. Time is of the essence Aragorn.”

Your eyes crumbled in confusion. Who was Aragorn?

He did not leave you time to question as he grabbed at your hand, “Come miss Y/N. We have a ride to take.”

You sat at the bar table with Strider who had hood of his robe covering his face. You grew more uneasy as the night wore on at the Prancing Pony. The horse ride was quick thankfully. And much to your delight the Hobbits Gandalf was speaking of finally appeared. Right on time.

Strider shot up from his seat, “Wait here miss Y/N. I must save the Hobbit.” He sighed before bounding off into the depths of the bar. You felt even more uneasy as the eyes around you made their way to your shaking frame. You were nervous.

After far too many moments alone he grabbed you by your arms, “Come Y/N. We must hide.” He directed you to another room than the ones you had planned on staying in.

“Strider?” You asked following him up a set of stairs you were unfamiliar with.

“Nazgul. I’ll explain later. For now, you must sleep. We have a long journey to Rivendell. Especially with the Hobbits.” He let a long breath while opening the door for you. Quickly, you were attacked by questions from the four little Hobbits. Happily, though you answered every single one before lying next to Strider who promised to keep watch.

“You should get some rest too.” You whispered hoping not to wake the sleeping Hobbits.

He nodded, “I shall. In due time. I fear we have something coming.”

Your frown was evident as he continued to try and comfort you, “Do not fret. I am keeping watch for a reason. We are safe.”

“I believe you Strider.” You yawned not being able to keep the tiredness away for much longer.

“Rest.” He commanded.

You were far too tired to argue that as the darkness crept in.

You were woken when the screeching next door commenced. The Hobbits must’ve had more sensitive ears as they were already up and staring at Strider who looked glum.

“What are they?” Frodo asked.

He sat at the window looking at the five of you, “They were once men. Great kings of men. The Sauron the Deceiver gave to them nine rings of power.” You felt a shiver ripple across your body. You’d heard the legends and did not believe those either. Yet again, another thing coming true right before your eyes.

“We must move.” He commented seeing the Nazgul retreating away from the inn.

You must have walked for miles until Strider had the five of you rest at the old watchtower of Amon Sul. You stood there behind the Hobbits staring up the decaying rock structure before you. It must have been grand in its time.

Once you were seated next to the Hobbits he stood and tossed each of you a weapon, “These are for you. Keep them close. I’m going to have a look around. Miss Y/N, will this blade be too large for you?” He handed you a smaller sword for you to try.

“I fear you have too much faith in me Strider.” You unsheathed the sword holding onto it carefully, “But this will work.” You nodded towards him.

“You shall not have to use it. In case only.” He pointed at each of you, “I will be back. Rest. Make no noise or sound.” His command was easy to follow. A natural born leader it seemed.

You woke when you heard Frodo yelling from beside you, “What are you doing?” He yelled a little too loud. You rose from the ground you had managed to sleep on and watched the interaction unfold. You cursed when you saw the fire going. He had not explicitly said no fires, but the intention was there.

“Put it out you fools!” Frodo cried. You rose from your slumber and haphazardly helped him put it out.

The horrifying cry you heard from the Nazgul the night before rang out from outside the watch tower.

“Oh no.” You spotted them coming towards you, “No Strider?” You turned to Frodo with a horrifying realization.

He shook his head, “Go! Up!” You followed the Hobbits to the top of the tower and waited. You shivered when you saw them come from the shadows. You heard nothing but your hammering heart in your chest. This was it. This could be the end. You sword was shaking in your hand.

“Back you devils!” Sam screamed trying to shield them off. You blocked a shot but was stopped when Frodo pulled the ring out. You gasped when they all ran from him. To your horror when he put the ring on he disappeared.

Strider came out of nowhere blocking back the Nazgul from all of you. You ran to Frodo in horror seeing the man defend the five of you with ease. A few of them went up in flames as kept fighting them off. They had enough when he got another went up and flames and ran off. Strider quickly came over to the five of you surrounding Frodo. You had your hand on his horrifyingly black wound. You’d never seen poison like that before.

“Help him Strider!” You cried in a shaky voice once he kneeled down next to you.

He picked the sword up shaking his head slowly, “He’s been stabbed by a Morgul blade.” The blade vanished in his hand as Frodo writhed beneath you, “This is beyond my skill to heal. He needs Elvish medicine.”

You looked down at the Hobbit in pain and let a single tear fall, “We will get you the help you need mister Frodo. Rest assured.” He picked the Hobbit up and began running, “Let us go.”

The four of you trailed Strider in a daze. The Nazgul screams seemed to ring out from every direction as you ran, “Hurry!” he shouted at the four of you with Frodo crying in his arms.

“We are six days from Rivendell! He will never make it!” Sam cried sending a shuddering realization through you.

You simply heard a faint whisper come from Strider ahead of you, “Hold on, Frodo.” From Strider who kept running and did not acknowledge Sam. As tired as you were you had to keep moving for Frodo’s sake. You ran and ran until you could no more and then you ran some more.

He only stopped when he ran into three petrified trolls. He set Frodo down looking around frantically. You and Sam went over to look after him. Same placed a gentle hand to the despondent Hobbit.

Sam shuddered at the touch, “Mr. Frodo! He’s going cold.”

“Is he going to die?” Pippen chimed in. You stood back looking over the shivering Hobbit who long since stopped crying out in pain.

Strider turned to the five of you with a concerned look crossing over his features, “He’s passing into the Shadow World. He’ll soon become a Wraith like them.” He stated so calmly. Your face grimaced at the horrifying realization. Frodo becoming a Nazgul?

Strider continued, “Sam, do you know the Athlelas plant?” You listened in but bent down to hold Frodo’s hand hoping some comfort would help the gasping Hobbit. His eyes were glazing over with something of a blue sheen that sent shivers down your body.

“Athelas?” Sam asked confused by the question.

“Kingsfoil.” Strider tried a different name.

Sam nodded, “Kingsfoil, aye, it’s a weed!”

“It may help the poisoning. Hurry!” He pushed the Hobbit off, “Miss Y/N. Stay with Frodo. We will be back with help.” You nodded holding onto his hand dearly.

Not a few moments later you saw the help arriving. A beautiful elf strode over and down to the quickly fading Hobbit. You took a step back as she took a step towards him. You gaped at the beauty that she was leaning down to your newfound friend. An elf in real life. She was beyond your wildest imagination. You had been told of their beauty, but this was bordering on ethereal.

“I am Arwen. I have come to help you.” She whispered into his ear, “Hear my voice. Come back to the light.” She grabbed at his hand while Strider handed her the plant.

“Who is she?” Merry asked quietly as Frodo was tended to.

“Arwen, an elf.” You whispered repeating what you heard her speak to Frodo not seconds ago, “She’s going to save him.” You said out loud to convince yourself more so than the group of Hobbits.

“Frodo,” She whispered, “He’s fading.” She sounded concerned as she looked over to Strider, “He’s not going to last. We must get him to my father.” The two of them stood as Strider grabbed at Frodo, “I’ve been looking for you for two days.” She said to Strider. You watched as the scene unfolded before you not wanting to get in the way of whatever was occurring.

“Where are you taking him?” Sam asked confused and terribly concerned for his friend.

He was ignored as Arwen continued, “There are five Wraiths behind you. Where the other four are, I do not know.” You watched as Strider put Frodo onto the horse with ease.

Suddenly Strider started talking in what you assumed to be Sindarin as you could not understand what they were saying. They must have agreed upon something as Arwen hopped onto the horse and took off with Frodo. Your mind was sent into a spiral as you guessed where he was going and off so quickly.

“She is taking him to Rivendell. To Lord Elrond for him to be healed. She is the faster rider and will get him there sooner. Come, we must go.” He motioned for the group to keep moving, “Miss Y/N, will you walk with me?”

You nodded speeding up your pace to match his, “Master Strider.”

“Strider is fine.” He hummed as he led the group out of the forest somehow knowing exactly where to go.

“Is he going to make it?” You had to ask him. The thought of his passing was eating at you.

He nodded, “His best chance is with Arwen. The sooner we get to Rivendell the sooner we will find out.”

“Well then let us speed up our pace then.” You smiled up at him.

He chucked and nodded. The two of you walked in a comfortable silence as you occasionally made sure the chatty Hobbits behind you were faring all right.

“She is pretty.” You spoke after a while of not being able to get Arwen’s face out of your mind.

“Arwen?” He questioned you giving you a curious once over seeing that the statement seemingly came out of nowhere.

“Aye. She is beautiful.”

“She is. Most elves are.” He agreed with you, “She is wed to another healer. Her father set the marriage up ages ago before you great great grandmother was even a thought.”

“Oh, to have the lifespan of an elf!” You laughed feeling the weight of whatever tension you were holding onto about Arwen be lifted.

“I bet it is not all that it seems to be.” You nodded as the two of you continued on the trek to Rivendell occasionally chatting about random things back and forth. You were so caught up in him you failed to notice the Hobbits watching the two you of converse the entire journey back as if you were already a married couple just strolling the lands.

“Welcome to Rivendell miss Y/N.” Aragorn smiled when he saw your gaping face taking in all the scenery stretching beyond your wildest imagination. He too was struck in awe by its beauty the first time he had come across it all those years ago.

“This cannot be real.” You gasped as he took your hand, pulling you along to look along the city.

“Aye. It is. Come, I want to show you your living quarters for the time being.” He pulled you along knowing exactly where to go in Lord Elrond’s castle. He stopped in what you assumed to be the center seeing two people walking towards the two of you. The wizard and a dark-haired elf stopped just short of you.

“Ah, welcome young one.” Gandalf walked up with who you assumed to be Lord Elrond, “It is wonderful to see you in one piece. Unlike our young Frodo.” He chuckled not realizing what he had said sounded bad without knowing how he was.

Your face dropped, “Oh no, did he not make it?”

Gandalf shook his head hastily in realization of his error, “He is fine young one. A few more hours and he would not have made it.” Gandalf stepped forward, placing a hand on your shoulder in reassurance, “Aragorn here will show you to your chambers.”

You cocked your head to the side, “Aragorn? You said that back in Sarn Ford as well. Who is Aragorn?” This really was not your place to speak in front of so many important people. But you were always a curious one, so you had to ask. The worst they could do is refuse to elaborate any further and you would not press. You did understand boundaries even if you pushed them.

Strider looked at Gandalf with a question in his gaze. Gandalf always had a plan. He could see the feelings bubbling to the surface for Aragorn for his newfound human companion that had to be a gift from Valar himself. Gandalf knew the longer he kept his identity from you the harder the breach of trust would befall the two of you.

Gandalf nodded giving his friend a push towards you. He knew Aragorn had to admit this to you himself. You saw Lord Elrond cock his head in confusion watching the interaction go down. He must not have been privy to what had been going down in Gandalf’s mind.

“Ah, miss Y/N. Strider is my Ranger name. It is my identity. As is Aragorn. Son of Arathorn.” He spoke slowly watching as your face twisted from confusion to realization. You may have been from Eriabor, but you surely knew who Arathorn was.

He continued, “I am also called Elessar, the Elfstone, Dúnadan, the heir of Isildur Elendil's son of Gondor."

“A rightful King?” You asked him with widened eyes. You had no clue that you had been traveling with such a company. You had been so crass it made you want to run away right then and there, especially with Gandalf and Lord Elrond’s amused gazes watching the interaction between two humans.

He nodded, “You are correct.”

“Aragorn.” You spoke for the first time giving him a wide smile, “I do like it. It suits a King such as yourself. Would you mind if I continued to call you Strider though?” Bowing your head slightly you felt a rush of embarrassment pulsate through you. Why were you so unladylike? It was all so thoughtless when he was just a Ranger. Not a bloody King of Gondor.

He waited until your eyes met his again, “No need to bow miss Y/N. And thank you. You may call me either.”

A quick head nod was interrupted by Gandalf, “We must be off. Aragorn drop the young one off at her residence. You are free to explore the castle and Rivendell. But we will need you to meet us in the gardens. We have much to discuss before the Council of Elrond shows up in a few days.” Gandalf spoke directly to Strider who just nodded in agreement.

“Come miss Y/N.” He took your hand and pulled you along quickly, “You will enjoy your stay here. It is a wonderful place. There is quite a bit to do, and the elves are very kind.” He tried his best to reassure you knowing that Gandalf was right. You could not go on. You were not prepared for this kind of journey to any extent. Gandalf also revealed of Aragorn’s known feelings for you. You would be a distraction he could not have along the journey.

“It seems like it.” You grinned thankful you were able to do your own thing for the afternoon. You felt bad for Strider or Aragorn. He seemed to have quite a bit of business to attend to.

He stopped at a door letting you inside. It was small but quant and rather extravagant. Fine details laced every surface. You’d come to expect nothing less from the elves, “I will find you later. Enjoy your day miss Y/N.”

The days went by slowly as you got acquainted with Rivendell. You had the sneaking suspicion your journey was also stopping as Strider was not so keen on giving you any information even though he was gone for days on end.

It was on the day of the gathering of the Council of Elrond that you had all but given up. That was until there was a rapid knocking at your door. Thankfully your elf maiden Nimloth had made sure you were dressed as Strider stood before you with a smile on his face, “Come miss Y/N. The Council of Elrond is starting soon.”

“I am invited?” You were sure there was a dumb look on your face.

He nodded slowly, “Gandalf insisted. Lord Elrond relented.”

You followed him in silence to the gathering of the council. You sat behind Frodo closer to Lord Elrond and away from all of the action that was sure to go down.

It was not long after you took a seat that Lord Elrond stood gathering the council to begin, “Strangers from distant lands, friends of old and new,” His eyes met yours giving you a small wink before continuing on, “You’ve been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite, or you will fail. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom. Bring forth the ring, Frodo.” A shiver ran down your spine at his straight to the point opening. This was not good.

You watched as Frodo stood and dropped the ring on the stump in the middle of the council.

You heard the man called Boromir speak up, “So it is true.” He looked at the ring with something of desire lacing it. You looked at Strider who was watching the man skeptically. He continued, “The doom of man. It is a gift.” Your heart raced at such a senseless statement. You watched as Strider grew angry at his arrogance.

Nevertheless, Boromir continued, “A gift of the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring? Long has my father the Steward of Gondor kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against them.” He passionately spoke hoping to gain the agreement of the Council.

But Strider would have none of that false speak, “You cannot wield it. None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master.” Your heart rate sped down at the sensible statement to the man you had grown quite fond of in your week or so of traveling. You had grown a strong liking to the handsome Ranger who saved your life without a second thought.

Boromir looked skeptically at Strider, “And what would a Ranger know of this matter?” He asked with a smug look to his face. You wanted to slap that look right off of his face for he had no clue who he was talking to! A king!

But the elf called Legolas stood quickly in his defense, “This is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, Son of Arathon.” You watched as his face scrunched up in a minor irritation. He had tried so hard to keep that a secret and now it was out, “You owe him your allegiance.” He finished looking just as irritated as Strider did. It still felt weird to call him Aragorn. So, you kept up with Strider.

Boromir turned back to him, “Aragorn.” He spoke with a hint of shock in his tone, “This is Isildur’s heir?”

“An heir to the throne of Gondor.” Legolas spoke earning a glare from Strider who spoke to him in Elvish quickly. You wondered what he said because Boromir looked suddenly very angry.

Boromir nearly spat with vengeance while looking at the blond elf, “Gondor has no king.” He turned to look back at Strider and shook his head, “Gondor needs no king.”

Gandalf spoke up breaking the tension among men, “Aragorn is right. We cannot use it.”

Lord Elrond stood, “You have only one choice. The Ring must be destroyed.”

The dwarf called Gimli stood then, “What are we waiting for?” He grabbed his axe and sliced at it in attempt to shatter it. Of course, that did nothing but startle the entire council into submission.

“The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin... by any craft that we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade.” Lord Elrond spoke matter of factly. You watched as Frodo nearly collapsed from the pain and realization. You laid a gentle hand on his shoulder hoping he would find some solace in the touch.

Lord Elrond continued, “It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came.” Your heart was hammering in your chest at the realization. This would be no easy task for anybody let alone a Hobbit and human group, “One of you, must do this.” Lord Elrond commanded sending your head into so many different directions. Would Strider go? Would the Hobbits? Surely you would never be able to go. No, Strider would never allow it. He had made that very clear.

Boromir sighed, “One does not simply walk into Mordor. It’s Black Gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. The Great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland riddled with fire, and ash, and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with 10,000 men could you do this. It is folly.”

Legolas was angry now. He shot up from his seat spitting his words at the man, “Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed.”

Gimli spoke up next, “And I suppose you think you are the one to do it!” The tension grew in the air as everyone began to feel uneasy of the task at hand.

Boromir stood next, “And if we fail, what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?”

Gimli continued, “I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!” He shouted. Your eyes went wide as everything seemed to be going away from the goal at hand, “Never trust an Elf!”

The group erupted in bickering as you and Frodo sat back in fear of what was going to happen. All but suddenly you watched as Frodo stood. He shouted, “I will take it.” It took him a few attempts before the group heard him.

“I will take the Ring to Mordor.” He said again once everyone had quieted down. You gulped as you watched the scene unfold.

He spoke again, “Though, I do not know the way.”

Gandalf nodded, “I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins as long as it is yours to bear.”

You sat further back into your chair as you watched Strider stand, “If by my life or death I can protect you I will.” Your heart sunk at his words. He caught your forlorn gaze and gave you a simple smile. He walked to Frodo and knelt before the small Hobbit, “You have my sword.”

Legolas stepped forward, “And you have my bow.” Your heart raced seeing the elf walk forward. Thank goodness he volunteered. You had heard stories of the mighty elf warrior of Mirkwood.

“And my ax.” Gimli agreed as he walked towards the growing group. You stood from your spot away from the group, closer towards Lord Elrond. Almost as if you had already known your assigned fate.

Boromir joined slowly, “You carry the fates of us all, little one. If this is indeed the will of the Council then Gondor will see it done.” He stood by the group.

Suddenly the other hobbits joined in earning a hard-earned smile from Lord Elrond.

“Nine companions. So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring.” You watched as Elrond anointed the group complete. Your downcast eyes found Striders who looked at you with all the care in the world. You were more than nervous for the man you had grown so fond of so quickly. Dare you say you might actually have real genuine feelings for the man standing in the group of nine.

“The journey is no place for a lady.” Strider insisted as he pulled you away from the fellowship. He had conjured up a hundred scenarios in his mind and decided you could not come after seeking the guidance of Gandalf. It was far too dangerous for someone as delicate as you were. He shuddered at the thought of seeing you with a sword far too big for you trying your best to defend not only yourself but the Hobbits from the Nazgul. He never wanted to see or put you in such a situation as that ever again.

Your look broke his heart ten times over. It is not like he wanted to leave you in Rivendell with the elves. He would do anything to take you, but it was just far too dangerous. The encounter with the Nazgul did it in enough for him to hold firm on the decision, “I’m not a lady Aragorn, and you know it! But I understand.” You countered but admitted your faults. You were nothing but a lowly peasant from a tiny village near Eriador. You didn’t mean much to middle earth, a place holder for whatever Valar had planned.

He twisted his head to the side giving you a once over and a sly smile, “Not yet anyway.” He walked towards you, stopping right in front of you. Wanting to say the next word so all the elves and Hobbits behind him couldn’t hear. Having to turn your head up to make eye contact he leaned forward and whispered in your ear, “I have every intention of making you one, my lady.”

Your eyes growing wide and the rosiness that formed on your neck and cheeks made the elves behind him laugh in unison amongst themselves. You noticed the confusion lining the Hobbits faces, no doubt wonder what he had said to you to illicit such a reaction.

You looked back to him with the hint of smile dancing on your lips, “They can hear you Strider.”

He brushed the pads of his fingers along your jawline, “Let them.” He had yet to be so forthcoming with his feelings so far. Sure, you had only known him a little over a week but you had not left his side since you met him. It had already felt so long ago. And when the heart knew it knew. It knew it had feelings for the handsome man with the most beautiful blue eyes that looked at you so kindly standing before you.

“Please be safe.” Your eyes welled with unshed tears as you accepted his command. You could not go along with them. You’d be nothing but the burden you so desperately wanted to avoid. But you also did not want to stay in Rivendell. The elves seemed welcoming enough but who knew how long he would have to be gone. You would surely overstay your welcome.

A curt nod came from the man you’d grown to love in such a short amount of time, “As you wish.” He moved his fingers to your eyes brushing away the tears that had managed to spill over, “Do not cry. I will be back as soon as I can.” The moment felt far too intimate to have the whole company trying not to watching but paying close attention anyway, they were not being sly about like they thought they were. They had all grown to adore you in some capacity, more some than others. Pippen was especially sad your journey had ended there. He had quite enjoyed getting to know you along the short trek from The Shire to Rivendell. You were unlike any other mortal he had met.

“I know. But you will find me in Bree.” You answered him letting the tears fall even as you tried your best to stop them.

He shook his head quickly, “No, you will stay here. In Rivendell. You will be protected here. Lord Elrond has assured me of that.” That sounded more like Aragorn than the Strider you knew. It hit you that the rightful King of Gondor was standing right in front of you. No wonder he had seemed so effortless in leading the group to Rivendell. It was in his blood.

“I do not belong here Aragorn.” You spoke in a plea muttering his actual name for just the second time. It still felt foreign, but you welcomed it on your tongue. Aragon, King of Gondor.

His eyes piqued up in utter curiosity at the sudden name change. You had seemed so adamant on continuing to call him by his Ranger name despite finding his true identity through Gandalf, “You can find an identity here my lady. Lord Elrond will not let that falter. Do you not believe me?” He frowned not enjoying seeing you in such a distressed state. He too had grown to have deep feelings for you. You were kind and compassionate. Smarter than you knew. Made him smile more than he ever had in his life in the short time he had known you. You kept him on his toes, and he adored that about you. He grew to like maybe even love you in mere days.

“I am a burden here. Useless. They will get sick of me.” You were pleading to him now. If you knew better you would not be pushing somebody of such high stature.

He gulped not knowing what to say. He could pick up on your stress through your expression and the way you picked at your fingernails. A habit he’d seen both at the Inn and when the group was attacked by the Nazgul. Just as he was about to open his mouth he heard Elrond from behind him. And bless him he thought for he had no idea how to calm your racing mind.

“Have you not enjoyed your stay here at Rivendell? Do you not wish to stay?” Lord Elrond spoke up after hearing the concerns you had spoken in private to Aragorn. He knew he likely should have just stayed quiet and let Aragorn handle the situation. But his overly sensitive ears could pick up the frantic panic in your voice towards the man.

You shook your head quickly, “No my lord. I wish to not be a burden to your home. You see I… I do not have much to offer your city.” You hung your head in shame hoping you did not fully insult Elrond. He had already been so kind to you.

“A burden?” He shook his head walking over to the two of you. All eyes still watching the interaction with the utmost curiosity, “You would hardly be a burden. I will be honest with you. With many of the elves planning to take to the sea I will need some help preparing. You will have a place here. Rest assured.”

A small sigh let out from your chest. Aragorn watched you intently with a bright smile on his face seeing the Elf relax your mind in mere moments. Leave it to Elrond to calm you down so easily. He needed to take a page or two from his book.

“Are you sure Lord Elrond?” You asked timidly to the much, much taller elf. Why’d they have to be so beautiful and intimidating at the same time?

He gave you a quick nod before turning, “I have already made up my mind child. Now let us go. The Fellowship has much planning to do before they are off in a few days.” He motioned for you to follow him.

You turned back to Aragorn before you left, “I wish you luck. I will see you soon. Be safe.” Taking a risk, you grabbed for his hand giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Anything for you my lady.” You caught the brief wink he had given you before bowing his head.

You walked over to the rest of the group, “I wish you all nothing but the best. Please take care of each other. I want to see you all when this is over. Yea?” Your voice broke at the end.

The Hobbits crowded around you giving you one last hug, “We will take your word to heart Lady Y/N.” Pippen smiled as he hugged your side.

“I am no lady.” You laughed once more. Where had they all gotten this ridiculous notion from?

“That’s not what Legolas told us.” Frodo smirked while looking over at Aragorn was deep in conversation with Boromir not paying a lick of attention to the goodbyes you were giving. It hurt him just as much as it was hurting you so he distracted himself with the other man in the Fellowship.

Your eyes found the blonde elf who attempted to feign innocence for the second time that afternoon, “You are a rightful menace Legolas.” You muttered to him almost finding enjoyment out of his butting in.

He shrugged innocently, “I am not sure what you are talking about Lady Y/N.”

You smiled shaking your head while giving each Hobbit a quick squeeze, “Good luck Legolas. Please watch out for him?” Your request may have been too much for the elf and you knew it. A big ask that you would have never of done had you not fallen for him so quickly.

But he agreed, “You have my word, my lady.” He smirked sensing your aversion to the formality you so desperately tried to avoid.

A quick shake of the head and you went off to follow Elrond you was waiting for you patiently in the distance, “I will see you all soon.” You waved, not waiting for their response as it felt to be too much in the moment. It amazed you

“Thank you for your hospitality Lord Elrond.” You said quickly once you caught up to the dark-haired elf.

He gave you what you was sure was a genuine smile, “It brings me a great pleasure to host you Lady Y/N.”

Your mouth gaped, “Is he forcing you to say that?” Surely you were going to have to get used to the title if Elrond had agreed to it. It would be shameful to try and correct the ruler of the land. Even you had some semblance of sanity and preservation.

Elrond shook his head quickly. He gave you a serious expression, one that you were not used to seeing from elf, “Aragorn is the rightful heir to the Throne of Gondor. We recognize the title here in Rivendell. I respect what he wishes. If he has given you that title you should wear that as a badge of honor.”

“You think so?” You thought you might have been pressing your luck with the lord. But he had the patience of somebody you had never met before. He was like no human you knew even if he was half of it.

If he was offended at your questioning he hid it well. A small smile adorned his features as he led you down the path to an empty room in the castle he had placed you in earlier, “I know so. When you have been around as long as I. You tend to notice these small things.”

He stopped in front of a door you had not been privy too in your prior explorations, “Your quarters for the time being. I had Nimloth move your belongings from your previous room to here. I suspect you will find it adequate.”

Your eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets when he opened the massive wood doors. The most intricate carvings of wood was placated on every surface of the room. The detail and craftsmanship was beyond anything you had seen in your tiny little village. You ran your fingers along the different sets of furniture admiring the fine detail that was crafted into every surface, “More than adequate Lord Elrond. Thank Nimloth for me?” You asked after finding all your belongings neatly put away.

He bowed to you. An elf bowed to you! What had this life become? Once so lost now you were somebody a lord found pleasure in conversing with.

“I will see to it. She will fetch you for dinner as well. Welcome to Rivendell.” Without waiting for a response, he shut the doors behind him letting you be with your thoughts. And oh, were they racing beyond your wildest measure.

It had been 414 days since Aragorn and the Fellowship had set out to destroy the ring. You refused to give up any sort of hope as you heard bits and pieces of information from Lord Elrond. You had grown close to elf in your stay at Rivendell. He had given you sage life advice time and time again. You were there for him when Arwen and his sons went off to sea not to be seen again until he were to take his trip. You knew he was utterly lonely and wanting nothing more than to go be with his wife and children. But he had a duty to middle earth that he would see too. He would see that the age of man had a true leader in Aragorn to guide peace and prosperity forward. He knew the age of elf was done and good. Frodo just had to finish it by destroying the ring.

You were sitting in the study reading a text in Sindarin, Lord Elrond had taught you enough of the language to get by, when you heard the doors to the study open with a loud thud. You set the text down on the desk as you peaked your head towards the door.

“Lady Y/N?” Lord Elrond’s voice called out.

You stood from your chair, “Yes my lord?” You caught him smiling ear to ear at the front of the study. A giddy feeling of shock shot throughout your body in anticipation for what might come next.

“They are back.”

You felt like your heart might have actually stopped beating there for a second, “Aragorn?” You asked breathlessly.

“Alive and well. Come.” He motioned you to follow him just like he had all those days ago when you first got to Rivendell.

When you spotted him out in the courtyard you did not give a second thought about being a lady anymore. You all out sprinted to the man who had consumed you whole in his time away. He wrapped you in his arms once you ran right into his chest. Letting out a small grunt from the impact he started laughing. A full-on belly laugh rang out from the man as he held you in his arms once more.

“You came back.” You felt the tears forming in your eyes as you buried yourself in his chest.

He held you in his arms as tightly as he could relishing in the moment of just being there with you, “I gave you my word, my lady. Did I not?” He pulled you back so he could look at you. Ethereal. Rivendell had been nothing but good to you he concluded. He would have to thank Lord Elrond for being so hospitable towards the one he had loved.

“You did. Thank you.” You grasped him a little tighter as he clinged onto you just the same.

You gasped opening the letter from the Shire, “Sam and Rose!” You ran over to Aragorn with a gleeful smile on your face, “Look, they are to be wed in six months! Long after you are crowned King. I would like to go.”

“Ahh, finally.” Aragorn grabbed the letter from your hand with a smile on his face. You admired him as he read the joyous news of the union. He was so handsome. And he was soon to be crowned King of Gondor, Gandalf had shared with the group the night they came back. He was due to be crowned in two months’ time in Minas Tirith. It gave time for all parties to travel to the desired destination to see the rightful heir be crowned king.

“I was worried he would never go for it. We shall go if you will have me?” Aragorn noted as he smoothed out the robes for tomorrow’s crowning. He had felt more nervous of the thought of proposing to you than he was about being crowned King. Valar calm his nerves.

“Aye. I would love to go with you Aragorn. But is that so? Had he been shy about her?” You asked your love that you were almost afraid to admit to.

He nodded recalling all the time Samwise made comments about the Hobbit he had loved from afar, “He was never the most risk adverse. I think the journey changed him.”

“Yea.” You nodded, “It was good for him.”

He nodded his head. His soft expression hardening just a tinge as he took you in, “You are so beautiful. When I did not think that I was going to make it… the thought of you kept me going. I am so honored to have you by my side.”

You leaned your head back into his chest letting the sun beat down on the two of you as he had helped you prepare for the journey to his rightful home. He had been to Minas Tirith many times before, but never as the King. He was overjoyed at the thought of bringing you to his home. He was not lying before when he promise to make you his lady. He was planning to wed to you not too long after he was crowned King.

“It is my honor Aragorn.” You felt him squeeze his hand along your waist.

He had taken you to his new home by horse. Just the two of you heading to his Kingdom. He wanted to spend the time with you and get to know you. And he was more than glad he did. He did not think it to be possible, but he had fallen more deeply in love with you on the month-long trek to Gondor. It had solidified what he had planned to do, propose to you as soon as he was crowned King. He had gotten Lord Elrond in on the plan as well. Surely, you would be more than irritated at the public display, but he knew you would soon get over it.

Your eyes lit up in amazement at the city that had spring up before you once you had finally made it after a little over a month on the road. It was more massive than even Rivendell had been. You had no idea such structures existed within the human world and was slightly ashamed you knew so little about your very own brethren.

“Welcome to Minas Tirith my lady.” A breathy whisper in your ear he watched below as you took in the city.

“This is… incredible Aragon.” Your eyes traveled everywhere in awe as he rode up the main street on his horse. You were pleasantly surprised at all the greetings even you were getting from all the citizens that resided within the city.

He led you straight to the castle at the center of the city knowing you were probably more than overwhelmed. Sure, he had warned you but actually seeing it and doing it was entirely different thing. He bowed to his guards as he made his way to his, and soon to be your, chambers.

“You will sleep here tonight.” He said matter of factly as you explored his chambers.

You shook your head, “I cannot. This is your room. You need to rest before tomorrow! You are being crowned King. That does not happen every day Aragorn.” You protested but he simply shook his head.

“It is all right.” He led you to his bed, “I insist my lady. I have made up my mind and you will not be able to change it.” He grinned beautifully as you sat down on the bed, accepting defeat so easily.

“So stubborn you are.”  You mused at him with a delighted look on your face. It felt like a step was being taken as he insisted you stay in his quarters. Protected by the best of the best. He saw you as nothing but precious to him.

He chucked softly, “I must leave you to it. Feel free to explore. One of the guards can show you around if you would like. I must see to a few things before tomorrow. I will see you after the ceremony?” He asked watching you carefully. He wanted you to be comfortable before he left you. He knew it would be tough to go a night without each other after spending so much alone for the better part of a month.

“All right.” You nodded quickly, “I will see you tomorrow, my King.” You grinned right back at him knowing you would never tire of calling him that. It was a far cry from the Strider you had met so long ago now.

He brushed his hand along your jaw. Giving you a brief bow, he spoke once more, “My lady.” Before walking out his chambers and leaving you too it. A wave of exhaustion coupled by the softness of the mattress below you sent you into a slumber much sooner than you were expecting. Maybe you would get the grand tour another time. For now, sleep overtook you..

You watched in awe as Gandalf crowned Aragorn with amazement in his own eyes. You had truly never seen anything so grandeur in your life. All this for your Aragorn. Yet, you felt he had deserved this and so much more.

“Now come the days of the King.” Gandalf’s voice boomed throughout Minas Tirith as thousands stood to watch Aragorn be crowned. You felt your eyes well up with proud tears as the crown laid atop his head. He was so striking. So Kingly. Your breath was taken away as he turned to the crowd. He was your King.

“This day does not belong to one man… but to all.” His voice now boomed filling your chest with the utmost pride for the man you loved, “Let us together rebuild this world… that we may share in the days of peace.” He smiled as the crowd erupted in cheers for their newly crowned King. You joined in happily clapping and cheering along with the city folk.

He sang as the flower petals began to fall. You watched as his company and all those around him bowed to him as he walked amongst the crowd. Your heart sped up rapidly as he was moving along closer, and closer to you.

Elrond pulled you back behind a shield at your protest as Legolas stepped forward. Being none the wiser you shot your elder a precarious look as he told you to be quiet and wait a second and you would see what was going on. He did not lie to you. Lord Elrond never did.

The elf beside you pulled the shield away leaving you staring right into the icy blue eyes of the man you had loved so dearly. You gulped but stepped towards him. He looked just as entranced as you felt.

Feeling overwhelmed at the entirely of the situation you bowed your head to your King once you were mere inches in front of him. Never before had so many eyes been on you. Yet he had made it feel like it really was just the two of you at that moment.

He would have none of that though. He took his hand under your chin and pulled it up, so you were looking at him. He too forgot that thousands of people were watching. It felt like it was just you and him. You had that effect on him. Your doe eyes staring up at him so desperately is what did him in. He could simply wait no longer to have what he wanted… you.

When you smiled at him he did not care any longer. He went straight in for the kiss. You wrapped your arms around him as he spun you around, happier than ever before. He had let his intentions be known. You were his for forever, his forever.

You would be embarrassed later but now it was just you and him. A giggle erupted from you as you hugged him once more. He grabbed your hand and pulled you along as he went to search for the Hobbits.

You took a knee after Aragorn spoke, “My friends… you bow to no one.” A smile erupted on your face as you watched the kingdom take a knee for them. Frodo’s face told the story. Aragorn gently wiped off the tears that were streaming down your face.

“I love you, my Queen.” He whispered in your ear.

“Your Queen?” You gasped looking up to him. Surely you did not think you would take

“Are we to be wed no?” He asked curiously.

“Aye.” You nodded, “I just did not believe to have such a title.” You looked away from him as he directed everyone to stand once more.

“I am King. You are to be my Queen.” He said so matter of factly you could not believe you were questioning yourself.

“As you wish.” You smiled so gleefully not truly believing this was actually your life now.

He leaned in for one more gentle kiss to please the crowd, “My Queen.” He whispered letting you know he had every good intention in the world with you. For the first time in his already long life, he could not wait to get his life started with you.

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