#i just start rubbing my hands together like a fly
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morebird · 4 months ago
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Astarion x Tav commission for @kittenintheden
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jankwritten · 2 years ago
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It's so interesting about this Sentinels/Guides trope thing because people apparently often see it as an A/B/O thing?? Because of the whole "spirit animals" thing (which....yikes....but i guess it was the 90s) which is so interesting to me because the 3 fics that EYE read had next to no ABO elements at all. I mean, there was the "character has to take a medication that suppresses their senses" thing, but that was all.
This is part of why I'm so intrigued by the history and lore of this trope, because it genuinely varies SO MUCH from author to author. Down to even the basic terminology!! There's just so much variation - some people might write it as something akin to ABO, whereas others take it in entirely different directions.
And the fact it literally all originated from a mid-90s sci fi buddy cop tv show? i am in awe every day of what the hell crack fandom is on fr. wow.
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jungwnies · 27 days ago
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F1 GRID | finding out you're pregnant
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୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : synopsis : finding out you're pregnant with their baby even after agreeing on waiting a little bit before starting a family of your own.
୨ৎ : genre : romance & angst ୨ৎ : tws : arguing, pregnancy, mentions of abortion ୨ৎ : word count : 2786
୨ masterlist ৎ
ᡣ𐭩 a/n : got this idea from watching s2 of squid games, won't explain why, no spoilers here honeyyy
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ʚ・max verstappen
max’s eyes widened as the words hit him, his gaze flicking to the pregnancy test in your hands. for a moment, he looked genuinely frozen—like you’d just told him red bull had switched to making bicycles instead of cars.
“we… agreed to wait,” he said slowly, blinking at you as if the sheer force of logic could undo the situation. he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.
“max,” you said gently, biting back a laugh despite your nerves.
he stopped pacing, turning back to you with a raised eyebrow. “you’re sure it’s mine?” he deadpanned, though the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips betrayed him.
you smacked his arm lightly. “not funny.”
he cracked a small, dry laugh, stepping closer and taking the test from your hand to set it aside. “okay, okay. it’s not what we planned, but…” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “i guess this is what i get for not reading the fine print in life.”
his hand found your waist, his expression softening as he pulled you closer. “look, it’s… unexpected. but it’s not the end of the world. just the end of uninterrupted sleep for the next few years, right?”
you couldn’t help but giggle as he placed a hand on your stomach, his confidence and dry humor kicking back in. “guess i’ll have to start winning every race now. baby formula might run through all my checks.”
despite his jokes, his eyes shone with something deeper—love, determination, and just the right amount of "what the hell do we do now?" but that was max: grounded, honest, and ready to figure out a solution to every challenge that was about to come flying at the two of you.
ʚ・lewis hamilton
lewis’s face fell the moment the words left your mouth. his brows knit together, and he blinked rapidly, like he was trying to process a race-ending penalty that came out of nowhere.
“you’re… pregnant?” his voice was soft, barely above a whisper, as if saying it too loudly might make it even more real.
you nodded, suddenly feeling unsure. “i know we talked about waiting a few more years, and i understand if you’re not ready. we don’t have to—”
“no,” he interrupted, his voice firm but his eyes wide. “no, don’t… don’t say that.” he stepped closer, his hand reaching for yours instinctively. “don’t even think about that. i want this baby.”
“but, lewis,” you started, “this isn’t what we planned. you’re so busy with your career, and i don’t want to—”
“i know,” he cut you off again, his voice cracking just slightly. he let out a shaky breath and rubbed the back of his neck, his usual calm demeanor replaced by a mix of worry and determination. “i didn’t expect this, yeah, but… that doesn’t mean i don’t want it. i do. i really do.”
his hand slid to your waist, pulling you gently closer. “i mean, yeah, i’m terrified. what if i mess this up? what if i’m not good enough at… being a dad?” he chuckled nervously, shaking his head at himself. “i’ve driven a car at 200 miles per hour, but this? this is scarier.”
you reached up to cup his face, your touch grounding him. “you’re not going to mess this up, lewis.”
he sighed, leaning into your touch. “i just… i want to do this right. for you. for us. for the baby.” his hand drifted hesitantly to your stomach, resting there as his lips curved into a small, uncertain smile. “i guess i’ll have to trade in some podiums for bedtime stories.”
the stress was still there, lingering in his furrowed brow and the way his jaw clenched, but beneath it, you saw something else—a flicker of hope and excitement. lewis was many things, but when it came to the people he loved, he never backed down. and in that moment, you knew he’d do whatever it took to be the best father he could be.
ʚ・george russell
george froze, his blue eyes locking onto yours, disbelief etched across his face. “you’re… pregnant?” he asked, his voice tight.
you nodded, your heart pounding. “i just found out. i—”
“what do you want to do?” he cut in, his tone sharper than you expected.
“what?”
“i’m asking if you want to keep it,” he said, running a hand through his hair, pacing the room with a mix of panic and frustration. “because it’s your choice, and i’ll support you, but i need to know where your head is.”
his words stung, and you stood up straighter. “do you think i’ve figured it all out already, george? i’m just as blindsided as you are!”
“i’m not accusing you of anything,” he shot back, his voice rising. “i’m just trying to get us on the same page. this wasn’t part of the plan, and now everything’s—” he stopped mid-sentence, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.
you watched him, your own anger fading as his shoulders slumped. “i don’t know what i want yet,” you admitted softly. “but i’m scared.”
his eyes opened, the frustration melting into something gentler. “i’m scared too,” he admitted, stepping closer. “but if you want this baby, we’ll figure it out. together.”
his hands found yours, his grip firm but comforting. “i’ll support whatever you decide. but… if you’re asking me? i want this. i want us. even if it’s messy and terrifying.”
tears pricked your eyes as he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. “we’ll make it work,” he whispered, his voice steadier now. “and maybe… maybe this wasn’t part of the plan, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be the best thing to ever happen to us.”
for the first time since you found out, you felt a glimmer of hope—and in george’s arms, you knew you wouldn’t face this alone.
ʚ・carlos sainz
carlos’s face went pale the moment you told him, his wide brown eyes staring at you like you’d just dropped the most shocking news of his life. he opened his mouth, then closed it again, clearly struggling to find the words.
finally, he let out a string of rapid-fire spanish, his hands flying around as he started pacing. “¿estás segura? ¿cómo pasó esto? dios mío, esto no estaba en los planes.” (are you sure? how did this happen? my god, this wasn’t in the plans.)
you couldn’t help but bite back a laugh, despite your own nerves. “carlos, calm down.”
“calmarme? ¿cómo quieres que me calme?” (calm down? how do you expect me to calm down?) he exclaimed, throwing his hands up dramatically. “this is huge, my love, this is a baby."
“yes, it’s a baby,” you said gently, grabbing his arm to stop his pacing. “and i need to know how you feel about it.”
he froze, staring at you for a moment before his expression softened. “how i feel?” he repeated, his voice quieter now. he took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair as he processed everything.
then, slowly, a smile started to spread across his face. “a baby,” he said again, but this time it sounded different—softer, filled with awe. “we’re going to have a baby."
“yes,” you whispered, watching as his entire demeanor shifted.
his smile turned into a grin, and he pulled you into his arms, lifting you off the ground as he let out a laugh of pure joy. “amor, i’m going to be a dad!"
when he finally set you down, his hands immediately went to your stomach, his eyes sparkling. “i can’t believe it,” he said, his voice filled with excitement. “this wasn’t in the plans, no, but… this is amazing. you’re amazing.”
you laughed as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, still grinning like he’d just won a race. “i promise, i’ll do everything. i’ll be the best dad. and you—” he looked at you like you’d hung the moon. “you’ll be the most incredible mamá.”
all his earlier panic was gone, replaced by uncontainable happiness. carlos was over the moon, and in that moment, you knew this baby would be so loved.
ʚ・charles leclerc
charles froze, his green eyes widening as the words registered. he stood motionless for a moment, his lips parting slightly as if to speak, but no sound came out. then, he exhaled sharply, his hands raking through his hair, leaving it tousled in that way you loved.
“mon dieu…” he whispered, his accent thicker as he switched to french without realizing. “comment… comment c’est arrivé?” (my god… how… how did this happen?)
you hesitated, unsure of how to answer, but before you could, he looked up at you, his expression torn between panic and guilt. “no, i know how it happened. c’est ma faute.” (it’s my fault.)
“charles,” you started, stepping closer, but he backed away, pacing the room like he was mentally replaying every decision that had led to this moment.
“i should’ve been more careful,” he said, his voice shaking. “i should’ve… i mean, how could i be so stupid? you trusted me, and now…” he trailed off, his hands on his hips, his head hanging low.
“charles, stop,” you said firmly, walking up to him and grabbing his arm. “this isn’t just on you. it takes two people, remember?”
he lifted his head, his eyes glistening, and the vulnerability in them broke your heart. “but i was supposed to be more careful amore, and now i put a baby in you.” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “i didn’t want this to happen yet. not because i don’t want it,” he rushed to add, his words tumbling out in a whirlwind of emotion. “i do. i just… i wanted to give you more. to be ready. to make sure everything was perfect… amore you deserve everything, you deserve the world.”
you cupped his face, forcing him to look at you. “charles, nothing is ever perfect. and i don’t need perfect. i just need you.”
his breath hitched, and he closed his eyes, leaning into your touch. “you’re too good for me,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. “but… i promise, i’ll do everything i can. i’ll be there for you, for the baby, for everything. je t’aime tellement.” (i love you so much.)
tears slipped down your cheeks as he opened his eyes, his hands coming up to cradle your face. “this baby… it’s not what we planned, but it’s ours,” he said softly, his voice steady now. “and i already love it because it’s part of you.”
he leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, his thumb brushing away your tears. “we’ll figure this out together,” he whispered, his voice full of quiet determination. “i’ll make sure you and our baby have everything. i swear.”
in that moment, all his earlier worry and guilt melted away, leaving nothing but love and promise in his eyes. charles wasn’t just happy—he was ready to give his entire heart to you and the life you were building together.
ʚ・lando norris
lando froze, the lighthearted grin he’d been wearing vanishing in an instant. his eyes widened as he stared at you, his usually bright expression clouding over with uncertainty. “you’re serious?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual, almost disbelieving.
you nodded, your hands trembling slightly as you clasped them together. “i just found out. and… i don’t know what to do, lando. we’re so young, and there’s still so much we want to do.”
he ran a hand through his hair, letting out a shaky breath as he sat down heavily on the couch. “bloody hell,” he muttered under his breath, his leg bouncing with nervous energy.
“i mean… we don’t have to go through with it,” you said hesitantly, your voice breaking a little. “we could—”
“no,” he interrupted, looking up at you sharply, his voice firmer than you’d ever heard it. “don’t say that. don’t even think about it.”
“lando, be realistic,” you said, your own frustration and fear bubbling up. “you’re in the prime of your career, and i’m still figuring out my life. how are we supposed to raise a baby when we’re barely adults ourselves?”
his jaw clenched, and he rubbed his hands over his face, clearly overwhelmed. “i know it’s not what we planned,” he said finally, his voice softer now but still tense. “and, yeah, i’m terrified. but this… this is part of us. and i can’t just… let it go.”
you sat down beside him, your shoulders sagging. “i’m scared, lando,” you admitted quietly. “i don’t want to mess this up. i don’t want to ruin your life.”
he turned to you then, his blue-green eyes filled with emotion. “you’re not ruining my life,” he said, reaching out to take your hands in his. “this is a curveball, yeah, but… i love you. and if this is happening, then i’ll be there. i’ll figure it out. we’ll figure it out.”
tears welled in your eyes, and he leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours. “we’re young, and we’ve got so much ahead of us,” he murmured. “but maybe this is part of that. maybe this is the crazy, unexpected adventure we didn’t know we needed.”
a small, watery laugh escaped you, and he smiled, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “hey, if i can survive driving at 300 kilometers per hour, i think i can handle a baby.”
you laughed again, the tension easing slightly as his words sank in. lando pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly, and for the first time since finding out, you felt like everything might just be okay.
“we’ll still live our lives,” he said softly. “we’ll do it all—travel, race, everything. just… with a little plus one.”
and despite the fear, despite the uncertainty, his words filled you with hope. because with lando by your side, you knew you’d figure it out together.
ʚ・oscar piastri
oscar stared at you in silence, his face unusually still. for a moment, you couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and the knot in your stomach tightened.
“you’re… pregnant,” he finally said, his tone flat, almost like he was testing the words.
you nodded, your breath shaky. “yeah. i just found out.”
he let out a dry, humorless laugh, shaking his head as he stood up and started pacing. “of course. of course this would happen now,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.
“what’s that supposed to mean?” you shot back, your voice rising defensively.
“it means this isn’t what we planned, y/n!” he snapped, turning to face you, his calm demeanor slipping for once. “we’re not ready for this. you know that.”
“you think i don’t know that?” you fired back, standing now, your voice trembling with anger and fear. “you think i wanted this to happen? i’m just as scared as you are, oscar, but this is our reality now.”
he raked a hand through his hair, his expression torn between frustration and guilt. “we’re still figuring everything out—our lives, our careers. a baby? how are we supposed to handle that?”
“i don’t know!” you yelled, tears brimming in your eyes. “but i can’t do this alone, oscar. i need to know where you stand.”
he stopped pacing, his shoulders slumping as he let out a long breath. “do you even want this?” he asked quietly, his voice breaking slightly. “because if you don’t… if you think it’s too much… i’ll support you. whatever you decide.”
the question hit you like a punch to the gut. “i don’t know,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “i don’t know what i want. but i’m terrified of making the wrong choice.”
oscar stared at you for a long moment, his usually calm eyes filled with a storm of emotions. then, slowly, he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek.
“i’m scared too,” he murmured, his voice soft now, all the anger gone. “but… i don’t want to lose this. i don’t want to lose you. and if this baby is part of you, then how could i not love it?”
your tears spilled over, and he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. “it’s not going to be easy,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “but we’ll figure it out. even if it’s messy, even if it’s hard. we’ll figure it out together.”
you clung to him, your tears soaking into his shirt as the weight of the moment settled over both of you. it wasn’t the perfect, joyful revelation you might have dreamed of, but it was real. and as bittersweet as it felt, it was enough.
for now, it was enough.
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© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate
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plutotheplum · 7 months ago
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Resonance
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sylus x fem!reader - read part 2!
summary: with the aether core's auction quickly approaching, you're growing desperate to resonate with sylus. fortunately for you, he has a suggestion... even if it is less conventional.
cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, p in v, fingering, teasing, spit kink, light choking, oral sex, praise kink, slightly ooc sylus?, minor canon divergence
wc: 4.5k
a/n: my first time writing a full fic or smut for that matter! given how many times sylus was trying to hold the mc's hand, i just figured he'd be into it. tried to be strong for zayne, but that didn't work out... sorry zayne. hope you guys like it! <3
also posted on ao3!
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You’re starting to regret your plan to sneak into the N109 Zone. From being drugged to nearly being killed, you weren’t exactly faring well in the unfamiliar place. 
A deep sigh escapes you, fingers rubbing at your aching temples. The headache had gotten worse, the band around your head wrapping tighter and tighter. You couldn’t leave though, no matter how desperately you wanted to, not when the Aether Core’s other half was up for auction in a week’s time. Sylus had also been distant. Despite saving you from the night raid, he had hardly come to visit while you were staying at Onychinus’ base. The twins, Luke and Keiran had kept you company though. They weren’t as wicked as you thought them to be, only young men that were intent on working for Onychinus, driven by their own motivations. 
The week was bound to shorten however, and you were growing antsy. Any reservations you had about resonating with Sylus were fading quickly as the auction date grew closer. He was right in a sense, you two needed to resonate, especially after that night raid when the Wanderers had attacked. The auction wouldn’t go smoothly either, you knew that much. Sylus had money, but traitors were lurking everywhere. The shopkeeper’s voice rings in your head, reminding you that Sylus hadn’t been responsible for the explosions. Absolving him of being responsible had been hard enough.  
Plucking at the strap of your nightgown, you’re contemplating whether you should sneak out. Sylus had been accommodating enough so far, and you were tempted to push your boundaries. He had, after all, left a pile of clothes for you. Strangely enough, they were all in the right size, accompanied by Mephisto who had let out a loud caw before flying out, its claws making a playful swipe for your hair. 
A few more anxious plucks at the strap of the nightgown and you’re sneaking out. Feed pad against the floor softly, nightgown swaying as you move through the hallway. You pause when you hear voices, hearing the thud of your own heart as you hold your breath. It’s Sylus and another man. The conversation is too muffled to listen into, incoherent words blending in together.
The door creaks open and you’re tucking yourself behind a pillar, hiding in the dark. The sound of footsteps fades into the distance and the breath you’re holding escapes into a quiet exhale.
“You can come out now,” A voice drawls. Sylus. You hated how he could sense your presence. Stepping out from behind the pillar, your back straightens, walking into his room. It’s dark, just like him. Expensive furniture, books stacked onto a bookshelf and a bed on the other side of the large room. The curtains are open, moonlight flowing in through the windows, mixing with the ambient lighting. He sits behind his desk, eyes trained on you, nursing a cup of wine. “I see you’re wearing my gift,” he says, eyes dragging over the nightgown. You scoff, eyes narrowing at him, “It was hardly a gift, and it’s not like I could sleep in my Hunter uniform.”
He only takes another sip of wine, eyebrows raising. His nonchalance is making you feel irritated. “You’re avoiding me,” you announce, arms crossing over your chest, “is there any reason?”
He laughs, low and deep, “I thought you’d be grateful for the reprieve, or maybe you don’t hate me as much as you think you do.” That has you scowling. You want to wipe his stupid smug smile right off his face. “Relax,” he says, his fingers tapping against his desk as he leans back in his chair “I had more important things to attend to.” That catches your attention. More important things? Perhaps he’d have answers, and you needed answers, about the N109 Zone, about Onychinus, about anything . 
“Private matters,” he murmurs, red eyes keeping you in place “nothing for you to get involved with.”
Your scowl only grows deeper, almost forgetting what you came in here for. Your feet move across the carpet, hands landing on the edge of his desk in an attempt to look intimidating.
“I want to try resonating with you,” you say, deciding to change tactics.
He hums, red eyes boring into yours. “We already tried that, and unfortunately, you seem content on disliking me,” he replies.
A frustrated noise escapes you, “It’s your fault!” you accuse, glaring at him. 
He only stares back at you blankly. You feel like a child throwing a tantrum under his gaze. “Just- please? ” you ask, voice softening slightly. He’s letting out an inconvenienced sigh and your body is moving, red tendrils swooping around your body as he draws you closer to him. “Hand,” he demands. You reach forward, and his hand clasps yours, fingers lacing together. A deep breath gets sucked in through your mouth and your eyes squeeze shut, trying to channel your energy and resonate with him. You think about his stupidly handsome face, his low voice and the times he had saved you. Both of your knuckles are white with how tightly you’re squeezing his hand. There’s nothing though, absolutely nothing. No sparks, no glowing light, no Evol resonance. Letting out a defeated sigh, you let go of his hand. He stares back at you, eyes searching. “There is something wrong with you,” he says, drawing his hand back to take another sip of wine.
“Maybe if you tried being more likeable, this would be easier,” you retort, sending him another glare.
Sylus only laughs, his head tilting, “You weren’t so intent on resonating with me earlier. So much so that you shot me.”
“You shot yourself,” you correct, voice sharp, “and the change in mind is because of the auction.”
He peers over at you, eyes calculating. You can’t tell what’s going through his head, you can never tell. It puts you on edge. Sylus is a dangerous man and you aren’t able to predict a single one of his moves.
“You’re afraid of Wanderers,” he surmises, hands clasping in his lap. 
His chair rolls out a bit from his desk and your eyes are dipping to see his legs spread as he gets comfortable. There’s a stretch in the black trousers as his thighs strain against the material and you’re swallowing harshly, eyes snapping back up to meet his gaze. If he noticed your wandering eyes, he doesn’t say anything.
“I’m not scared!” you protest, feeling exasperated “I’m simply worried that something might happen. We both know that the Aether core might become unstable with energy fluctuations, and who knows what sort of Wanderers that flux might attract?”
“I am more than capable of handling any danger,” Sylus says, his tone dark, “or do you need a refresher of what happened after I saved you during the night raid?”
You wince at the memory. It appears he doesn’t like being underestimated. It’s even worse that you remember. There had been blood and screams when his Evol had eviscerated the men that had been there.
“No refreshers needed,” you reply quickly.
Your plan of resonating with him is ill-thought, you realise. You can’t get your mind to change, no matter how hard you try. Head hanging low, you decide to back off. Sylus is right at least. He would be capable enough of defeating any danger there, but his assurance isn’t enough to quell your doubts. Silence passes over you both, only interrupted by your feet shifting on the spot. 
“There is another way,” Sylus says slowly, a wicked grin spreading across his face, “it is less conventional of course, hardly attempted at.”
Hardly attempted at? Was he planning to put your life on the line? Maybe that would work out for him, weaken you enough to get you to resonate with him and then steal the Aether core lodged in your heart.
“And this way is…?” you prompt, raising your brows. 
His grin only grows wider. Sylus stands up, long legs stalking towards you until he’s standing in front of you, his red eyes staring down at you. His cold hand reaches out, fingers grabbing at your chin to tilt your head as his own head dips towards your ear. You shiver, feeling his warmth breath against your skin. “Sex,” he whispers.
Well, you certainly weren’t expecting that. Your cheeks are hot with embarrassment, gaze averted to the side.
He clicks his tongue, “Why so embarrassed? I thought you wanted to resonate, sweetie .” 
“You’re more insane than I thought,” you hiss, shoving at his chest. 
He lets out a throaty laugh, a smirk spreading across his lips as he stumbles back a bit at the force of your push. 
“You seemed desperate,” Sylus says when he stops laughing, “I was only letting you know of all the options.”
“That shouldn’t even be an option!” you snap, growing flustered by the second. Sex with Sylus ? He was a murderer and completely and utterly unhinged, not to mention the leader of an illegally run gang. You were not having sex with him. Your irritation festers, head falling into your hands as you stand there. He doesn’t say anything, only reaching for his wine and finishing off his cup. 
“Fuck me,” you sigh tiredly, rubbing at your aching temples again.
“Don’t tempt me,” he replies. Your head snaps upwards at that, glaring at him. Irritation has only led to you making a poor choice of words. 
“I’m leaving,” you say forcefully, holding your head high.
You should be leaving by now, storming off back to your room lying a few doors away. You should be, except your poor feet aren’t working.
He stares at you expectantly, a hint of smile on his face as his brows raise.
“I am leaving,” you repeat, voice hardening.
He only nods his head towards the door. Part of you wants to stay, to find out what he means, but the implications are clear and you won’t do that with him. Especially not him.
You don’t get very far though, the door lock fastening in place with a resounding click . His Evol curls around your body, the inky red and black lines tugging you back towards him. Sylus is reaching for you, his hand cupping your cheek. You have half the mind to lean into his touch. “I think we’ll both have more fun if you stay,” he whispers against your ear, arms drifting across your nightgown to wrap around your waist and tug you closer.
He peers down at you, and your breath catches in your throat. Without thinking, you’re leaning into him, body pressing against him.
“I think you want to stay,” he continues, hands sliding up to pet at your hips.
“You- you don’t know what I want,” you manage out, voice airy, “and I want to leave.”
He hums, hand finding your cheek again. His thumb rubs across your skin, and it sets you alight.
“Did you forget?” he murmurs, head dipping to meet your height, “I can see what people desire the most, and it appears you, my dear Hunter, desire me.”
You’re letting out a soft curse. You had forgotten about that stupid detail, about his ability to see what people desired. Squirming in his grasp, you try to get away, but he holds you still, letting out a disappointed sigh.
“Will you not indulge yourself?” he whispers, voice lilting. You think he could be a siren in disguise.
There’s a shuddering breath escaping you. You don’t get a chance to answer, not when he’s smiling against your cheek and pressing a soft kiss to it. Your hands find his shirt, forming fists to prevent your knees from buckling.
“We are the same,” he reminds you, lips brushing across your skin as he backs you up against the wall.
You manage a scoff, “We are not the same. You’ve done terrible things and killed people. You do whatever you want, sacrificing whoever you want if it betters your cause.” 
“Such insolent words,” he purrs, his hand curling around your neck “I have treated you with far more kindness than others that have crossed my path.”
A squeak leaves when he squeezes around your neck, your fingers trying to pry his ones away from your neck. He only tightens his grip, landing another kiss to your cheek and there’s heat between your thighs, a whine escaping you before you can swallow it down.
Sylus laughs, his hand falling away from your neck to grab at your hips instead.
“Caught you,” he coos, and with that his head is dipping, lips pressing against yours.
You whine again, arms wrapping around his neck. You’re too far gone to care, feeling the plushness of his lips against yours. It feels as though he’s trying to devour you, trying to swallow you whole.
The kisses are rough and harsh and his hands are slipping under your nightgown, sliding up the backs of your thighs to grasp at your ass. You gasp into his mouth, scrabbling at his shoulders. He grunts against your mouth, guiding your leg to hook over his hip.
“You are far more eager than you said you would be,” he murmurs, finally pulling away to let you breathe. 
Soft pants escape you, chest heaving as your hands drop from his shoulders, landing against his chest instead. He stares down at you, crimson eyes bright with arousal as they flit about your body.
“You’ve done something to me,” you mutter lamely, a weak excuse for responding so eagerly.
He raises his brows, his thumb brushing across your lips. He repeats the motion, over and over again until you're tempted to press a kiss to the pad of his thumb. You don’t get a chance, not when his thumb is pushing past your lips and meeting the resistance of your teeth. Blinking up at him, you tilt your head.
“You know I haven’t done anything to you,” he replies, “that would be too far, even for me. Now be good and open .”
He has to have done something to you. What other explanation is there for the way your mouth opens, sucking his thumb inside eagerly? Your head tips back as you suck on his thumb, tongue swirling around the digit. He groans, deep and unabashed and it has your hips bucking. “Patience,” he whispers, pushing his thumb further into your mouth. You gag slightly, sending him watery glare. 
Sylus only smiles back, keeping you in place as you suck on his thumb. The ache between your thighs is too hard to ignore, and your hand is sneaking down in an attempt to relieve the ache.
You’re horribly wet between your thighs, feeling your thighs practically slip against each other as you squirm. Your fingers only manage two full circles against your clit before Sylus is letting out a growl, tugging your hand free from where it had snuck into your panties. 
“I- I need-“ you whine, trying to sneak your hand between your thighs again.
“You need me ,” he hisses, eyes hard as he grabs at your wandering hand, gaze locking onto your slick fingers. There’s a sharp gasp that leaves you when his own mouth is enveloping around your fingers, his eyes on yours as he sucks them clean. You feel weak at the sight, a dreamy sigh escaping you. He smirks, forgetting your fingers to kiss you again. You taste yourself on his tongue, feeling the way he licks into your mouth, his hands squeezing at your hips.
He’s picking you up before too long, dumping you on his bed. You hide shyly when he rips your nightgown from your body, his eyes staring down at your bra and panties greedily. The bra goes next and he’s lowering his head, sucking your nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking against the pebbled bud. You don’t know what to do, arms wrapping around his neck to keep him there, trying desperately to seek relief. “So impatient,” Sylus mutters against your spit-slick skin, opting to suck on your other breast as his hand delves between your thighs. “Don’t stop,” you whimper, eyes slipping shut “please, don’t stop.”
He lets out a low laugh, fingers rubbing at you through your panties. “How obedient you’ve become. Squirming under my fingers like a little slut. Didn’t you say you hated me before?” he whispers. 
“I- I do hate you!” you grit out, but your hand is finding his wrist, keeping his hand there as you grind your clothed pussy against his fingers.
He scoffs disappointedly, body slinking down the bed until his nose is pressing against your panties and he’s breathing in. You feel as though you might faint at the depraved sight. His tongue laves across the fabric of your panties and you moan his name, fingers finding their home in his hair.
Sylus sucks at your clit through your panties, licking at the slick that seeps through the dampened fabric. 
“An intoxicating taste,” he comments, pressing a kiss to your thigh “I could do this for days.”
That little comment has you letting out a shuddering breath and words you might regret if your mind wasn’t so stupidly hazy. “I would let you,” you mumble, tugging his face closer to where you want him, feeling the press of his nose against your clit. He grins, red eyes staring up at you, “that can be arranged.” Sylus’s long fingers are pulling down your panties and he’s staring at your cunt, a deep groan escaping him. “Such a pretty pussy,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your clit. 
A strangled noise leaves you and his mouth is latching onto your pussy, sucking and licking like a man starved. Whines and whimpers escape you as you grind your hips against his tongue. He moans back into your cunt, the sound shooting up through your body, thighs twitching. Sylus keeps you pinned down, tongue laving against your wetness, drinking up your slick as it leaks. It’s almost too much, which is why your hand reaches for his. Sylus gives his own hand, fingers lacing with yours. You’re so lost in the haze of his tongue against you that you can barely hear his voice.
“Resonate,” he speaks into your pussy, his hand gripping yours tight. “What?” Your dazed eyes find his, bewildered. “I said, resonate ,” he repeats, sucking your clit into his mouth harshly. 
His teeth graze against the sensitive bud and your back is arching, hand squeezing his one back. Your Evol comes much easier this time, light emanating from both your hands as you resonate. The linkage takes place, and it has you reeling, body twitching as you come on his tongue. The light soon fades, his own Evol dimming down. He presses another soft kiss to your sensitive clit. “Some incentive and your body is reacting remarkably well,” he smiles down at you. You could hardly care about resonance at this point, pushing at his shoulders and crawling up onto his lap, lips pressing against his. He grunts at the sudden change in position, but kisses you back, his hands groping at your ass appreciatively. A whine gets swallowed up by his mouth, your hips rocking against his hardness wantonly. Your fingers pull at his shirt and he’s staring at you with spit-slick lips. He tugs his shirt free and you suck in a sharp breath, taking him in. While you do this, your hips pause in their movements and he’s letting out a click of his tongue, using his hands to guide you start moving again. “You resonated with me,” he whispers against your lips. “Hardly,” you murmur back, nails digging into his shoulders. “Don’t be like that,” he chastises, “I made you come on my tongue and this is how you treat me?” he pouts mockingly.
“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” He coos, guiding your hips to move in the way he wants to, “moaning and whimpering for me. Perhaps I should’ve suggested this path from the start.” You try to glare at him, but he’s only gripping your cheeks, prying your mouth open before his tongue is lolling out, dropping a glob of spit into your mouth. “Swallow, baby.” You do so almost immediately, mouth opening eagerly for more. He laughs, almost in disbelief, kissing you messily this time, letting you suck on his tongue. “I need you,” you whisper, pressing his hand against your tummy “need you in me, Sylus.”
His eyes flash and he’s kissing you harder, clothed bulge grinding up into your bare pussy. The drag of his trousers is stimulating, catching on your clit in a way that has you shaking on his lap. “You’re filthy,” he hisses, sucking harsh kisses against your neck “such a filthy slut, begging for my cock.” You whine in agreement, nodding mindlessly. The world is moving then, your eyes finding the roof as he settles between your thighs. He kisses you over and over again, before he’s drawing back, slipping off the bed to pull his trousers down. A loud moan escapes you at the sight, his fat cock bobbing between his thighs. The tip is dark with arousal, veins prominent against the skin. Part of you wants it in your mouth, to swallow his cum and feel the weight of his cock on your tongue, and the other part wants it inside of you, filling you up. Embarrassment forgotten, you’re spreading your thighs in what you hope is an enticing manner, biting your lip and batting your eyelashes over at him. He glances down at your glistening pussy, licking his lips. “In me, please” you sweetly request. He hums, crawling over you. He grasps his cock, tapping the tip of it against your clit a few times. Pre-cum beads at the tip, a fat glob dripping down. Your hand shoots out before it’s wasted, fingers catching the glob. Smiling up at him, you suck your fingers into your mouth, letting out an appreciative moan at the taste. His eyes darken at the sight, fingers dimpling the flesh of your thigh as he squeezes.
“You’ll regret this when you have to leave me,” he warns, “I won’t be there to stuff your pussy full or lick that pretty cunt when you’re feeling needy.” “Then make it count,” you retort, legs wrapping around his hips. He lets out a short laugh, kissing you again. Soft whines leave you when he pushes in, his cock sinking deep into your pussy. You think you might be able to feel him in your throat, his cock stretching you out so deliciously that it has you writhing. 
“So fucking tight,” he breathes out, kissing along your jaw “so warm. I can feel you clenching around me, baby.” 
“Fuck,” you mewl, nails scratching down his back as he thrusts into you. In any other situation, you might be mortified at the sounds.
The squelch of your pussy, his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he fucks you. It seems like his favourite thing to do is to hold your hands, though.
“So pretty for me,” he sighs, hips grinding deeper into your wet heat “such a good girl, hm? My good girl.”
The praise has your heart fluttering wildly, cheeks flushing.
“Oh, you like that,” he murmurs, his lips latching onto your tits again, “my pretty, little slut, all laid out for me. You could’ve had this cock earlier, I would’ve given it to you. I could’ve stuffed you full, or bent you over my bike and pounded this tight little cunt until you were screaming.” 
A hoarse moan leaves you. Your hands are squeezing his, legs tightening around him.
“That’s it,” he whispers encouragingly, “take my cock baby, it’s all yours.”
“Stop- stop talking like that,” you whine, writhing under his body.
“Why?” he responds, “does it feel better than you had imagined?”
“I wasn’t imagining-“
“Hush now,” he whispers, kissing you over and over again. You’re not sure how much more of this you could take.
His cock is pounding into you, punching out the air in your lungs. It feels too good, the throb of his cock and his whispered words against your ear. You hiccup, peering up into his crimson eyes. He stares right back at you, the look behind his eyes startlingly soft.
You shy away, head turning to the side, cheek squishing against the pillow. His hand turns your face back to him, nose nudging against yours gently. He kisses you softer this time, the sound of your kisses drowned out by the drag of his cock in your cunt.
“Come for me, baby” Sylus whispers, squeezing your hand “cream my cock.” 
It’s enough to have you shuddering around him, a whine of his name leaving your mouth as you cream on his cock, just like had told you to. He drinks up every noise, lips working against yours as he fucks into until he’s burying his cock deep inside, letting out a low growl against your ear as hot cum spurts from his tip, filling you up. 
You sigh at the feeling, body feeling limp. Sylus is slumped on top of you, his weight oddly comforting against yours. A kiss is pressed against his cheek and you can feel his smile from where he’s tucked his head into the crook of your neck.
It’s a little uncomfortable though, so you’re pushing at his chest to get him to roll off of you. Sylus does so with little noise and you’re curling up against his side, already missing the stretch of his cock.
“You were being nice,” you say softly, breaking the silence.
“Would you prefer it if I were rougher?” he asks in return, rubbing his hand against the curve of your hip soothingly.
You roll your eyes, pinching his bicep. 
“The auction will go smoothly,” he announces, his hand drifting to squeeze your ass, “we did resonate, after all.”
You had almost forgotten about that. A nod is your response and he’s dragging you closer to give you another kiss.
“Training begins tomorrow morning,” Sylus continues, “I need to see how strong we can be together.”
You’re letting out a groan, swatting his chest and shoving him away. 
“Leave me alone,” you mumble, burying your face into the pillows.
He smiles, arms curling around your waist to tug you back into his warm chest.
“Now, now. You were being so good earlier,” he whispers “I’d be happy to reward you, if you perform well tomorrow.”
His hand smooths across your stomach, hand drifting lower to delve between your thighs. You muffle the noise that threatens to spill out.
“You’re insufferable,” you mutter, eyes slipping shut.
“I think you like that about me,” Sylus murmurs, his fingers curling up inside of you, beginning to move at a leisurely pace. 
“You’re the worst, Sylus” you whisper, hips rocking as you try to get his fingers to sink deeper.
“Yet here you are, trying to fuck yourself on my fingers,” he purrs, his arm winding around your neck. You feel him squeeze and you’re whimpering, sinking your teeth into his bicep as he holds you in place, letting his fingers fuck in and out of you.
It’s going to be a long night.
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maneskinwh0re · 2 months ago
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sevika x brothelfemme!reader — “not your job”
cw: [n]sfw, dom!sevika, soft!sevika, mostly fluff :3
summary: thinking about having a long-term brothel contract with sevika. at the end of a particular booking when she has already made you cum like 3 times, she forgot to leave time for aftercare (actually forgot she was on a time limit, just lost inside you). so when she starts to apologize and frantically clean you up, you just kick her out SKDHAHDJA fic plot begins right afterwards…
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∴.·:*¨¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴
“come on, i’ll walk you out,” you say as you smooth out your dampened lingerie and throw on a matching robe, shielding your figure from the cold as well as your client’s wandering grey eyes.
“that’s not in your job description,” sevika counters as she zips up the fly of her cargos. you step closer to button her pants as well as buckle her thick belt, a sentiment that means more to her than you know.
whenever sevika asks, you always imply that helping her get dressed is a favor in your contract (you both know it’s not) and then your defense is usually followed by a teasing remark about her missing left arm. in reality, you use the closeness as an excuse to continue the intimacy after sex, a further connection between you two, but the secret remains unspoken.
“you’re right, it’s not in my job description. and neither is changing the sheets, but looks like i’m doing that too since i’m too embarrassed to let poor harley do it.”
“isn’t that their job anyway?”
“can you just quit arguing with me and get your ass out?” you bicker with a laugh, knowing sevika is just stalling at this point.
“thought y’ liked my ass,” she smiles smugly and tilts her head as she looks down to you, her flesh hand teasingly trailing up your curves.
you were gonna really make her feel like shit about not leaving time for aftercare, you just like to rub it in. the two of you know it’s all jokes, and have had a bounded contract for a while now. sevika isn’t a regular for anyone else, and you’ve recently stopped seeing any other clients…
“ha ha. i like it when it’s obedient,” you purr with a giggle, giving her behind a soft swat. “let’s go— the laundry room ‘s at the end of the hall anyway.”
“hmph, alright fine,” she agrees with a pout that is so cute, it almost makes you forget about her dominant nature that made you scream and beg mere minutes ago… almost.
when you get to the door, your trusted head of security opens it for sevika, and only when her flesh hand leaves its place on your lower back did you realize the warmth that was there as you walked the dimly lit hallway. it’s the little things that keep you both so connected, even if you don’t think to control them consciously.
you lean against the doorway, one hand on your hip as you smile up at her. when she leans in for a goodbye kiss, you turn your head away.
“ah ah, y’ know you gotta pay for that,” you say with a smirk.
“i think i just did,” she replies with a quirked brow, a prideful smile revealing the little gap between her two front teeth.
you only stare at each other, a silent competition to see who yields first to give in for a kiss.
“i’ll see you tomorrow,” you finally break the silence with a sly smile and turn away to resume your shift.
“but i’m not booked for tomorrow…?” sevika thinks aloud, her eyebrows furrowing together as if her statement is a question.
you look back to her, your tongue running along the inside of your cheek and huffing as if trying to stifle a laugh. sevika staying away from you? yeah, right. like a moth to a flame.
“i will see you tomorrow, sevika.” you look up at her tall figure and place a hand on her chest to push her out the door.
in a quick motion, sevika shoves your hand to the side and pulls you in by the waist for a deep kiss. you reciprocate immediately— because how could you not? your hands grip her short hair and you feel the coldness of her labret piercing against your bottom lip. you can taste your earlier release on her tongue, recalling the lewd thoughts of when she-
“ahem.” the security guard’s lower pitched voice brings you back to the moment.
gasping for air, you push sevika off and wobbly move clear of the doorway. “alright, get outta here. before i call security.”
“oh, will you? i’m real scared,” she jokes, taking loopy, post-sex drunken steps down the stairs.
“i could kick your ass, sevika!” callum shouts into the cold night, then slams the heavy door shut before your patron could reply. you internally relish the sound of sevika’s deep laugh fading out on the other side of the metal entryway, indicating she’s finally walking home.
“thanks, cal,” you chuckle as you readjust your laced bralette.
“why don’t y’all do all ‘at off the clock?” callum turns to you, his tone is still light but with a tint of seriousness.
“what do you mean?”
“you know what i mean. that stupid smile will stick to your face the rest of y’r shift, hon. and it’s only ever there after your sevika is.”
you scold your coworker, waving him away before he notices your flushed expression. “oh my- s-shut the fuck up!”
‘your sevika’
…you could get used to the sound of that.
∴.·:*¨¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴
alexa play casual by chappell roan !
a/n: had the plot idea a few weeks ago, dropping this fluff and running back to hibernate bc kinda been going through it lately lol BUT WE DOING BETTER NOW TEAM DW found some inspo to write :3
harley and callum are two oc’s i might add to an ongoing fic bc i actually ended up kinda liking this :)
- 🐝
taglist: @audr3yyyyy @mirconreadzztuff22 @wizard-pdf @archangeldyke-all @nhaaauyen @inthebrainofalamb <3
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piastappies · 2 months ago
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𝜗𝜚 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝜗𝜚
⋆ pairing. oscar piastri x wife!leclerc!reader
⋆ summary. christmas is never calm, when the piastris are involved, or one would think.
⋆ notes. another part of dad!oscar series 😁😁😁 its honestly one of my favorites ever. this is a small christmas fic, but i might write another part of christmas at the piastris 😁 not proofread (i will do that one day i promise)
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BEFORE YOUR DAUGHTER WAS BORN, you and oscar never spent christmas together. it was pretty understandable, he went back to australia to see his family, while you ended up in monaco, spending the festive moments along your family and your brothers’ girlfriends. however, you’d always spend new year’s together — whether it was australia or monaco, no one could make you leave each other’s side. nevertheless, as suspected, the problems started occurring as soon chloe’s second christmas came up.
her first christmas happened just after she was born, so there was really no conversation about going anywhere with a newborn baby, while pandemic was still going crazy. christmas in the following year was putting more and more stress on top of your shoulders. you barely seen your family all year, so the need to fly home was even stronger than ever, you couldn’t though. beside his dad, oscar hasn’t seen his family much either and asking him to go see yours for holidays seemed unfair, you were not the only one, who missed the warm embraces of their mothers.
“why don’t we all just come to your place, love?” nicole, oscar’s mum, suggested on one afternoon, making the tension in your shoulders loosen a bit. “there’s no point in stressing yourself out about flying with chloe, when we can just come to you.”
it almost seemed like a plan put together beforehand, because a few hours later your mum has called you, suggesting the exact same thing. even if it was a plan, you really appreciated trying to ease your nerves about christmas.
and it became a tradition, one you held dearly to your heart.
it’s been still a few days left till the twenty-fifth, so it was only nicole, who flew to monaco, her daughters would arrive near twenty-fourth to have a day to recharge. you were bundled up in a blanket, a small girl sitting on your lap, not wanting to be away from you as her tiny fists had tightened their grip on your shirt.
“i get puppy?” chloe asked, tipping her chin upwards to have a look at you before turning her head — so fast you thought it would snap in seconds — to look between your husband and his mom. “please, please puppy?” she repeated, jutting her bottom lip and flashed her brown eyes at oscar.
you raised an eyebrow at the aussie, awaiting his response. the possibility of him cracking and accepting your daughter’s pleas was high, considering that chloe had him wrapped around her little finger, or rather around her wrist like a leash she could tug on, and at first thought her dad would do whatever she wanted him to. his gaze shifted towards you as he let out a sigh, his heart breaking as he’s about to disappoint his only daughter.
“ah, squish, but you have a dog already, don’t you?” nicole started, catching her daughter’s attention. chloe’s eyebrows knitted in confusion. she has a dog already? is he invisible? “basil and rosie are yours too, aren’t they?” she asked in a gentle tone, the four years old perking up at this revelation.
“i do!” she exclaimed happily, letting go of your shirt to clap her hands, a big beam creeping up on her lips. “basie and rosie!” she said, her head bobbing up and down ecstatically. “my doggies.”
“and leo.” you chimed in, gently rubbing your hand against chloe’s back. the mention of your brother’s daschmund made the beam falter. “you don’t like leo anymore, squish?” you asked, a bit taken aback at the sudden change.
a pout appeared on your daughter’s face, her tone slightly bashful as she tried to explain. “leo pee-ed on me.” oscar’s lips were pulled into a tight line as he tried to suppress a chuckle. “s’no funny!” she frowned at her dad’s antics.
“he was just excited to see you, baby.” you tried your best reasoning with your daughter. “leo’s still just a baby, you know? babies pee when they get excited, it means he reaaaally likes you.”
“daddy’s baby, too an’ he don’t pee on me.” she scrunched her nose, unmoved by your explanation. “daddy don’t like chloe?”
baby. that’s how you’ve been referring to oscar for as long as you could remember, making chloe think that her dad is as much of a baby as she is. in different circumstances, you’d just start laughing — some guys, your friends’ boyfriend or fathers, random people on the street, probably acted like babies towards their partners or maternal figures, but not your oscar. he was the eptiome of a great partner, friend, and a parent, despite being a bit messy and leaving socks on your bedroom floor a few times, if you wished for someone better, you’d still get your oscar, because there couldn’t be anyone better than him, not for you and your daughter.
“well… daddy loves you so, so much, squish.” he began coyly, kneeling in front of the couch, to brush his nose against chloe’s, as an act of affection. “but i’m not a doggie, am i?” he asked, and while your reasoning seemed completely off to chloe, she bought oscar’s within seconds.
“no, silly.” the four years old giggled, putting both of her hands on oscar’s cheeks, leaving a small, sloppy kiss on the tip of his nose. “you papa.” a beam stretched across her mouth. “no doggie.”
THE CHRISTMAS CAME QUICKLY, which you were profoundly content with. it was one of the rare moments, when you could spend the time with your entire family, both sides. there wasn’t enough words to describe the amount of love you held in your heart for oscar’s relatives. you spent lots of hours, talking to your in-laws on the phone, when you couldn’t see them in person. it was natural that you wanted them in your daughter’s life as much as possible.
usually, the apartment was as quiet as it could be with a preschooler, although with almost twenty people inside, it was a mess. a positive one, one you would cherish every time it happened. your mum chatting away with nicole, tim, and chris, your brothers engrossed in conversations with oscar, while you talked to alex, and oscar’s sisters as your soon to be sister-in-law played with your daughter on the carpet, leo sleeping on his usual spot on the couch.
when you all sat down to open gifts, chloe was no longer playing with charlotte as she occupied the spot on arthur’s lap, giggling quietly, when he tickled her once in a while just to pretend he didn’t as she tried to pat his hands away.
“i give gifts, too!” she suddenly spoke up, her voice filled with excitement, pointing to a dozen of tiny boxes standing neatly next to (or on top of) one another.
it was small figurines made out of modelling clay that your husband has bought for your daughter. it wasn’t much, but it made your daughter feel involved in the gift-giving tradition. of course, you helped her throughout the process, so the figurines wouldn’t be just colours mixed together with no shape.
“oh, mon étoile. did you make them yourself?” your mum asked, a warm smile stretching across her lips as she unpacked the tiny star made out of modelling clay. that’s what pascale always called chloe, étoile, which meant a star, because she was the brightest star in your mom’s universe.
chloe nodded proudly in response, puffing her chest as she unpacked arthur’s box for him. “‘s me!” she giggled in happiness, placing the figurine in her uncle’s hand. “now, you ‘ill ‘lways remember me!”
“i could never forget you, squish.” arthur whispered into her ear, though loud enough for you all to hear, making the girl laugh from the sensation of his face in such close proximity to her ear. “i’ll always have it with me, okay?”
in the end, everyone was enamoured with the small gifts made by your daughter, which made her feel super proud of herself. she got a few toys (that you’d previously accepted, because if you had one more loud toy, you’d shred yourself into pieces) and… a racing helmet.
“we are not doing a project piastri, or whatever you’d call that.” you announced, giving your older brother a judgemental look. was it a surprise that charles gifted your daughter a racing helmet? not really, as he’s been talking about taking chloe karting. “she’s four.”
“i was four, when i started too.” he argued, a bit playfully.
“look what that made you. crazy.” you shook your head, taking a glimpse of the mesmerised look in your daughter’s eyes. “she’s too small for a go-kart. you’d have to put velco strips on her back and the seat, so she wouldn’t fell out of the thing.”
“that’s doable.” the ferrari driver shrugged, as he helped chloe put on the purple helmet. “uncle charlie wouldn’t let his squishy face get hurt.” he cooed at the girl, making you roll your eyes in exasperation.
cheering and stressing over your husband’s career was a thing you could live with, but having both oscar, and your daughter racing and karting? your poor heart wouldn’t handle it.
“i drive like daddy soon?” the four years old in question said, her voice slightly muffled by the helmet. once again, she clapped her hands happily.
and somehow, after a nice meal and gift openings, you were stuck in a conversation with your brother about taking chloe karting, while she quietly asked one of your sisters in law what karting exactly was.
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rafesangelita · 7 months ago
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poguesweethearts first time with rafe and he is just so so so so mushy with her 🥺
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warnings: fluff, use of the nickname ‘sweetheart’, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, soft sex, multiple orgasms, soft aftercare
rafe had it bad. every touch, every glance, every laugh, he was fighting off things he never thought he’d have to. like right now for instance. “okay how do you like this? is it too pink?” you did a little spin for rafe, oblivious to the way his eyes danced down your figure.
you were currently trying on different outfits to meet his family in, your overthinking machine of a brain not resting until rafe decided for you. rafe leaned back in his seat, meeting your gaze. “you could wear a garbage bag, and i’ll still think you look perfect.”
you shook your head, a pout forming on your lips as you stepped closer to him. “rafe i’m serious! i want them to like me.” rafe pulled you down to sit on his lap, his hands bringing your legs up to rest over his thighs. “sweetheart, they are. my folks are already in love with you, they’re constantly telling me to bring you home already.”
rafe watched the worry etched in your brow melt away, his fingers cupping your chin. “please don’t stress yourself out about it. we still have a whole week before then.” you nodded, pecking rafe’s cheek. he shut his eyes the second he felt your lips against his skin. something so small like a kiss on the cheek was starting to become too much to handle.
“hey, do you uh- have any plans for the next few days?” he hoped you couldn’t feel the hard on in his jeans. leaning your head against his shoulder, you fiddled with a loose thread on his shirt as you hummed. “nope. my manager went on vacation with her husband so the icecream shop is closed, and i already baked what i needed to sell this week, so i’m all yours.” all yours, that was like music to his ears.
“good, that’s good.” you noticed the way he rubbed your knee as if to soothe himself, your eyebrows knitting in concern. “rafe?” you adjusted yourself in his lap, freezing when you felt something poke your thigh. both of you looked at each other, your eyes falling to his lips.
“are you busy the next few days?” you asked him, your chest rising and falling as your fingertips burned to touch him. “no..” without hesitation, both of you kissed each other desperately, your hands flying out to pull him closer as if he wasn’t already flushed to your side.
this kiss was everything you wanted it to be, and everything rafe needed. you wrapped an arm around his neck, letting him pick you up bridal style where he then lead you two to your bed. you swore your sheets have never felt this soft before, but then again, with the way rafe’s hands roamed your body, everything seemed, well, just sweeter.
you welcomed him between your thighs, your dress pooling around your waist as he pulled away to admire you underneath him. “god, you’re fucking gorgeous.” rafe traced the sweetheart neckline of your dress, your breasts peeking out just enough to drive him crazy.
you smiled softly, taking his hand in yours as you dragged it across your chest. “please take it off.” you didn’t have to tell him twice. in seconds, he had you in nothing but your white matching set, kissing your skin as if you’d disappear if he didn’t devour you right then and there.
everything about you was so perfect to him, for him. you slipped off his shirt, running your hands down the ridges of his abs. “i’ve wanted to do this since i first saw you walk into the country club.” you gasped softly when he cupped you through the lacey material of your bra. your hands worked to undo rafe’s belt, his cock straining painfully in his pants.
rafe cursed under his breath, taking his jeans and boxers off in one swift movement. you’ve imagined what rafe would look like; naked and ready to take you, but it didn’t come close to the sight of him right now. he stood glorious, the look in his eyes making you rub your thighs together.
“rafe?” you sat up, watching as he reached for your ankle. you don’t know what you were expecting, but rafe yanking you towards the edge of your bed definitely wasn’t it. “keep talking, sweetheart, ‘wanna hear your voice.” you swallowed thickly, your heart skipping a beat when he kneeled in front of you.
“i want to make you feel good..” you trailed off, letting him lay you down as he took your panties off. one look at your soaked cunt, and rafe couldn’t believe he had survived this long without it. “you already are.” your mouth fell open when you felt his breath tickle your skin.
“is it okay if i do this?” you looked down, the sight of rafe gazing up at you from between your thighs was something you didn’t know you needed. you whimpered, muttering a ‘yes.’ before you felt his tongue run between your folds.
rafe was quick to pin your thighs down on top of his shoulders, ensuring you couldn’t move away from him while he lapped at your clit. “feels s-so good, rafe..” you shuddered, your body jolting when his tongue prodded at your entrance.
rafe had finally gotten a taste of you, and now he was addicted. from your little whines, to the way your thighs threatened to close around his head, rafe couldn’t help but fist his cock at the idea of making you cum on his tongue. he groaned against your slick cunt, the vibrations shooting straight to your clit.
“oh!” your hands fisted the sheets underneath you, your back arching up from your bed at the sensation. rafe watched you fight to take a breath, his chest blooming with pride at your obvious display of struggle. “you look so pretty like this.” he pulled your bra down, your tits spilling out of the white lace.
it wasn’t long before your hips starting moving away from his face, your first orgasm of the night threatening to rip through you. “don’t make me chase you.” you shivered at rafe’s words, complying immediately as you let him pull you even closer. rafe knew you were close to making a mess for him, and he was going to watch you unravel if it was the last thing he did.
“rafe-” your hands scrambled to find his, the band in your stomach snapping as you borderline screamed at the white hot pleasure coursing through you. “i got you, baby,” rafe let you dig your nails into his skin, your cries making his cock twitch with need.
you couldn’t form a single thought, let alone a sentence, so when rafe kissed his way up to your lips and asked if you were okay, you settled for a broken moan. “shhh,” he moved you two further up your bed, making sure your head was resting on a pillow before pecking the tip of your nose.
if you felt fucked out with rafe’s mouth alone, you couldn’t even begin to think what you’d feel like after he was done fucking you with the same cock that currently rested on your tummy. you were still going through the aftershocks of your orgasm when rafe caged you between his arms.
“you’re so perfect, you know that?” your breathing slowed to the sound of his voice in your ear. no one had ever made you feel like this. orgasm aside, you realized as you gazed up into rafe’s eyes, that he wasn’t rushing to have his way with you; instead, he was comforting you and smiling down at you as if you were the most precious thing to ever grace the earth.
he was selfless, even in this very moment when he had every right to be greedy, and that fact turned you on more than anything ever did. “rafe? please give it to me.” he blinked slowly, his jaw clenching at your words. looking down where he lined himself up with your entrance, you watched as his face contorted into full on bliss, a gasp leaving your lips as he filled you up inch by inch.
“holy fuck.” you ran your nails across the back of his head as he cursed against your skin. wrapping your legs around his waist, rafe interlocked his fingers with yours, both of you moaning in unison as he started thrusting into you. he stroked the side of your face, your eyes fluttering shut as you stretched deliciously around his length.
your heart felt like it could explode in your chest. the hand holding, the way rafe touched you as if you were made of glass, it was all making you melt into a puddle of sweet nothingness. “shit-” he hissed through gritted teeth, “you can’t be real.” he half laughed, kissing you ever so gently.
you couldn’t help but squeeze around his length, the head of his cock brushing that sensitive spot that sent you whimpering against his chest. rafe admired the way your eyes sparkled everytime you looked up at him. he fucked you hard and slow, every stroke bringing him closer to the edge of euphoria.
with his forehead resting on yours, your hand suddenly felt cold as he reached down for your clit, your hips stuttering when he circled your sensitive bundle of nerves. “oh my god!” you squealed, your eyes screwing shut as your high hit you in intense waves of ecstasy. alas, rafe was next to float on cloud nine, his jaw going slack as his thrusts came to a stop.
the feeling of rafe spilling his load inside of you was now etched into your mind, incapable of ever leaving. rafe unintentionally had a death grip on one of your tits, your whine of protest snapping him back to reality. “oh, i’m so sorry baby. did i hurt you?” he was panting when he popped his digits into his mouth to taste you one last time for the night. you shook your head, snuggling into his side as he rolled over.
“just a little, s’okay.” you reassured him, rubbing a palm over his chest. rafe looked over at you, moving away any stray hairs you might’ve had in your face. there was nothing you loved more than a man that turned all soft and mushy for you, and rafe certainly didn’t fall short. “it’s a good thing you’re going to meet my folks soon..” he traced the cupid’s bow of your lips. “cause i’m not going anywhere.” just when you thought things couldn’t get anymore sweeter than this, he spooned you.
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p0orbaby · 30 days ago
Note
R thinks Alexia is embarrassed to be dating her because R hasn't met her friends when in reality she doesn't want the team to scare R away.
-
The first thing you notice when Alexia walks through the door is her expression. A mix of contentment and exhaustion, like she’s just finished saving the world but could still go another round if she had to. Her hair is tied back in that effortlessly perfect way that you’ve never quite managed to replicate, no matter how many YouTube tutorials you’ve watched.
“Hey,” she says, setting down a bag of groceries on the counter like it didn’t cost her at least fifty euros for whatever organic nonsense she’s insisted on this week.
“Hi,” you reply, the word clipped, your voice low.
She pauses, turning to look at you with that face. The one that says she’s already analysing the situation and will probably win whatever argument is about to unfold. You hate that she’s good at this. You hate even more that you’ve already lost, but you press forward anyway.
“So,” you start, trying for casual but landing somewhere closer to brittle, “I was just thinking. You know how we’ve been dating for, oh, six months now?”
Her eyebrows lift, just a fraction, but she says nothing.
“And how I still haven’t met any of your teammates?”
There’s the flicker of understanding in her eyes, followed by something that looks suspiciously like guilt. You press on, emboldened.
“Not even one,” you add, holding up a finger for emphasis. “Not Irene, not Keira, not even Ingrid, and she seems like she wouldn’t hurt a fly”
Alexia sighs, rubbing a hand over her face, and you know you’ve struck a nerve. “It’s not like that,” she says.
“Oh, isn’t it?” You fold your arms, leaning back against the counter. “Because it kind of feels like you’re embarrassed of me”
That gets her. She blinks, her mouth opening and closing as if she’s trying to form words but failing spectacularly. You’re on a roll now.
“I mean, it’s fine if you are,” you say, with a shrug that’s entirely too casual. “I get it. I’m not, like, a professional athlete or anything. I don’t even know what half those drills you talk about are. I had to Google what a rondo was”
“Cariño,” she interrupts, her voice soft but firm, and it derails you just enough to make you falter.
“What?”
She steps closer, her hands finding your hips in that way that always makes your resolve crumble. “I’m not embarrassed of you. I could never be embarrassed of you”
“Then why—”
“Because,” she cuts you off again, her forehead resting lightly against yours now, “my teammates are… a lot”
You blink at her, thrown. “A lot?”
She nods, her lips twitching like she’s trying not to laugh. “Yes. Imagine a group of very competitive, very opinionated people who spend way too much time together. Now imagine them interrogating you about every single detail of our relationship”
“I think I could handle it,” you say, but your voice wavers just enough to betray you.
Alexia smirks, pulling back just slightly so she can meet your gaze. “Could you handle Mapi trying to figure out your star sign within five seconds of meeting you?”
“I—”
“Or Patri asking you whether you think pineapple belongs on pizza?”
“I mean—”
“And then there’s Aitana, who will definitely ask if you’ve ever made me cry”
Your mouth opens, but no words come out. She raises an eyebrow like she’s already proven her point.
“Okay,” you admit after a beat. “That does sound… intense”
“Exactly.” She presses a quick kiss to your forehead before stepping back, as if that seals the conversation. “I just don’t want them to scare you off”
“Alexia,” you say, grabbing her wrist before she can fully retreat. “I’m not going anywhere”
She looks at you then, her expression softening in that way that makes your chest ache. “I know. But you’re too good to deal with all that. At least not yet”
“Not yet?”
“Maybe next month,” she teases, a rare grin breaking across her face.
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spicygrilledscorpio · 8 months ago
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Cat got her tongue - LN
Summary: Y/n is in heat and is too shy to ask for Lando’s help. While her lovely boyfriend decided to be a tease.
Warnings: SMUT, horny!shy!reader, teaser!Lando, fingering (f!receiving), pet names, penetrative sex, unprotected (don’t do that), orgasm denial (i think that’s it lemme know if missed any)
Notes: My first fic hit 1k i’m so happy, thank you for you guys support. Also still English is not my first language so sorry if anything sounds weird. Hopes you guys enjoy 💗
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Y/n is probably the shyest person Lando ever met, and that’s also his favorite thing about her. However surprisingly, Y/n and Lando have a very high sex drive. Because of y/n’s shyness, she never says no to Lando, but he always makes sure she’s ok with it of course.
However, today was another case. They were chilling on the sofa in Lando’s apartment. Her boyfriend was sitting on the ground playing Fifa while she was lying on the sofa reading her new book. Everything was going alright, Y/n managed to focus and successfully finish 2 chapters until she reached the “spicy part” of the book.
“With a groan, he pushes into her while she gasps out loud, adjusting to his size…”
Y/n’s face starts burning as she squeezes her thighs together as she looks down at her boyfriend. As much as y/n wants to ask Lando, which she knows he will be willing to help her, she’s too shy. Normally, y/n never has to ask for an orgasm, she’s actually getting too much of it. Lando’s friends tease him saying that they’re like bunnies, always on top of each other. However, in this particular situation, she needs him. Y/n tries to shift her attention back to the book, but the words just fly through her head and she can’t help but imagine Lando on top of her. Y/n’s whole body was on fire and her face practically looked like a tomato and ready to explode at any given moment.
“Lan-” Y/n can’t help but call out for his help
“Hm?” Lando asks, eyes still glued to the screen
Y/n sat up and looked at him but didn’t reply
“What’s wrong baby?” Lando turns around to look at her red face
Y/n still doesn’t reply but looks at him with teary puppy eyes, hoping he’ll get it and help her out. Lando did indeed figure out what’s going on with his girlfriend but instead of helping her out, he decided to be a tease
“Can’t help you if you don’t tell me, hm?” He questions in a teasing tone, moving up to join her on the couch, face only inches away from hers. His hands were on her hip as he guided her to straddle him. Y/n had her arms wrapped around Lando’s shoulder as she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck, still struggling to get her words out because of her shyness and the overwhelming feeling of needing to be satisfied. Hip grinding down onto his crotch letting out some quiet whimpers.
“Use your words, princess,” Lando said in a stern voice, whispering in her ears.
“Need you” Y/n can’t help but let out a small whimper, given she’s almost half naked, only wearing panties and Lando’s sweater, sitting on her fully clothed boyfriend.
“At least use your manners, god,” Lando says mockingly. Watching her cute face getting flushed everytime she gets shy, Lando just can’t stop teasing his beloved girlfriend. “What’s the magic word?”
“Please?” She mumbled into his neck
“God, you’re so fucking cute” Lando chuckled. Their hands moved down to take off her panties. His fingers start going up and down her folds, collecting your wetness. “You’re soaked”
Y/n’s face gets even redder, looking like a chili at this point. She hates it when he says things like that, just because it makes her even more embarrassed than before, which is also why he loves dirty talk, he loves seeing her crumble for him. Lando’s fingers start rubbing her clit in a circular motion, drawing soft moans from her.
“I-I’m close” Y/n moans as Lando inserts two fingers inside of of her. Thrusting in and out at a brutal speed, he starts scissoring her, touching her G-spot in every thrust. But just when she was about to cum, he took his fingers out. She finally removed her face from his neck just to look at him in confusion.
“Not yet”
“I want you to ride me” Lando whispers in her ears, sending shivers down her spine. Y/n frowns and pouts looking at him, not happy from being denied her orgasm and being demanded to ride her boyfriend. Well, not that she had a problem with it, just that she is shy, and she’s pretty much a “pillow princess”, and Lando loves her since he prefers being on top anyways. However, since he’s in the mood for teasing her to her breaking point, Lando makes her ride him.
“That’s the only way you’re getting off, princess” Lando states looking at your pouting face, extremely unsatisfied with her boyfriend.
Y/n shuffles to unzip his pants and pull down his boxer, revealing his hard member, now leaking precum. She lowers herself slowly, having a hard time adjusting to his size. After taking in all of him, Y/n starts bouncing on his cock. She tries biting her lips to muffle her moans, throwing a tantrum since she’s still not happy from her orgasm denial earlier. However, her intentions fail miserably, as Lando's hands sneak down to stimulate her clit and she can’t help but let out a loud moan. His mouth covered her nipple and start sucking it, adding to the pleasure.
Y/n’s legs were shaking from the overstimulation and her speed slowed down. She can barely ride him at this point and just grinds on him, but it wasn’t enough. She knows she needs his help, but still finds it hard to speak up.
“All you have to is ask, bunny,” Lando said as he saw her slowing down
“Please,” Y/n says with tears welling in her eyes, on the brink of rolling down.
Lando holds her hips and starts moving her up and down on him, combined with his thrusts upward, he’s hitting all the right spots. The sounds of their skins slapping together with wet sounds of her arousal and his precum filling the room. Y/n’s pretty sure that their sofa is ruined for good but that’s not their focus right now.
“Lan I’m cumming” The overwhelming feeling took over her, pushing her to the edge.
“Cum for me princess”
Y/n squeezes her eyes shut as she’s about to cum “Eyes on me baby” Lando demands, always loving to see her face when she’s falling apart for him. Y/n keeps eye contact with him while she cums, just the way he likes it, and lets out a loud squeal, milking him as he spills inside her. Lando lays her down on the couch as he pulls out of her, parting her legs and staring at his cum leaking out of her hole. Lando takes his phone takes a picture and puts it in his hidden album.
“Do you have to stare?” Y/n asks, squeezing her thighs together to hide it.
Lando just chuckled and went to get a towel to clean her up.
“I love you so much, even though sometimes i think cat got your tongues, you’re so cute”
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witherby · 14 days ago
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do you think that the batfam has different ways of explaining their bruises/injuries they get from crimefighting to an observant mouse? 👼👼👼
--🎆
Fantastic question! I think growing up in Wayne Manor would make it exceptionally difficult to hide the vigilantism from you. They could 100% do it, but it would take about a thousand times more effort concealing it from you than the general public, so I don't think they would.
You're very young when you start really piecing it together, though, so they're gonna have to tell you what happened in child-friendly ways.
The Littlest Wayne: Post-Battle Injuries
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1. Bruce
"Wha' happen, daddy?"
This man is not a good liar, but he dodges the truth like it's an Olympic sport. Like any public figure worth their salt, he's gonna answer the question without answering the question.
"Well, when Daddy has to go be Batman, sometimes he gets hurt. The boo-boos will go away after a while, and everything is going to be fine. You'll have to hug gently for a few days."
What he doesn't say is that he took a toyota corolla pushing 70 to the ribs and can feel the broken bones shifting and rubbing together like wet chopsticks under his skin, it's fucking nauseating, and he needs to go pass out as soon as he puts you down for a nap.
2. Dick
"Uh-oh, Dinky hurty?"
If Bruce is admired for keeping his cool in the wake of grievous injury, then Dick wrote the fucking book on it. His picture shows up when you google "gaslight gatekeep girlboss." He could lose a limb and convince you it's always been like that with a straight face. You'll never catch his ass lacking.
"Dinky fell down," he says easily, scooping you into his arms, "but he's fine! See? All okay!" His face doesn't even twitch from all his wounds getting aggravated. There is shrapnel embedded in his back from being thrown through a window and tumbling down the roof. The broken-off blade of a knife is jammed up in his thigh. His right hand has lost all feeling in it from blocking a pipe getting swung at him. There are black spots in his vision. He's lost so much blood it's nothing short of divine intervention keeping him conscious.
You'd bet your ass if you need him to go sprint a 10k right now, though, he's lacing up his tennis shoes.
3. Tim
"Timmy, what wrong?"
He's gonna tell you the truth, and he's the only one that'll tell you the truth. He'll just omit the gorey bits because they're not beneficial to you.
"Oh, this? Bad guy got me good with his knife. It hurts a lot so don't touch it... I just said don't touch it...okay fine, go wash your hands first before you touch it."
He didn't like being kept out of the loop as a child, especially a child that had to raise himself, so he tells you about anything and everything you ask. He'll tell you what medical supplies he's grabbing and why. He'll tell you his estimated recovery time. He'll tell you what wounds the others have, if any. He'll let you touch the safe tools, like gauze and bandages and antibiotic ointment. He'll show you how to apply them, too, and then quickly take you to the sink to wash the blood from your hands.
4. Jason
"Jay-Jay ouchies?"
He's the most unintentionally awkward about it. I think being brought back to life in the Lazarus Pit really fucked up his ability to feel pain. The major injuries still sting — gunshots, stabs, broken bones — but bruises and black eyes and sprains fly under the radar very often.
"Uh, no," he shrugs, looking at the myriad of colorful bruising you just pointed out on his arm. "No ouchies." He's not exactly lying, it doesn't hurt, but it is very clearly an injury. This confuses and upsets you often.
5. Damian
"Dami got a booboo?"
He's lying every single time. He's your older brother. He's a dangerous killing machine. His skill and combat prowess are unmatched. He needs you to think he's incredible and amazing and cool.
"Those half-wit simpletons could never dream of landing a hit on me. Any blood on my clothes is simply not mine."
One of the goons actually clipped his side with a bullet and it really, really hurts. His hands are flexing and he's got sweat running down his neck from the pain. He would actually rather die than let you know that, though.
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venusbyline · 18 days ago
Note
I know you write Dark!Jace but what are your headcanons for normal Jace?
HEADCANON: Betrothal with twin!Jacaerys
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— pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x twin sister!reader
— type: smut, fluff
— tags/warnings: female!reader, soft!Jacaerys, betrothal, Targcest (twin brother/twin sister), loss of virginity, vaginal sex, cowgirl position, vaginal fingering, fingerfucking, argument, wedding ceremony, implied Lucerys Velaryon/Rhaena Targaryen, underage sex, switch!Jacaerys, switch!reader, canon divergence (No Dance of the Dragons). no use of y/n, english is not my first language.
— author's notes: Since you asked my "normal" headcanons about Jace, I decided to write something related to Twincest, because besides being one of my favorite pairings, I also think that Jacaerys is the HOTD male character who would be most likely to marry his twin sister.
— high valyrian words used: Kostilus (please), Ñuha jorrāeliarzy (my beloved)
❥ about me • Jacaerys masterlist • HOTD masterlist • main masterlist
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• Jacaerys would make a perfect betrothed. As the heir to the Iron Throne, the prince had enough privileges to be able to marry any woman of Westeros. At first, everyone thought that marrying him to a Lady from an important house would be a good move, talking about political terms. Daemon even tried to convince Rhaenyra to betroth Jace to his daughter Baela, just as Lucerys was betrothed to Rhaena by their own choices. However, Rhaenyra had always made it clear that she would not meddle about her children's future relationships and would let them get betrothed whenever they wanted and with whomever they wanted.
• Although Rhaenyra was slightly surprised when Jacaerys told his mother that he would like to be married to you, his twin sister. She did not oppose her children's decision. She had always noticed how close the twins were since their birth, and two House Targaryen's siblings betrothing would not be nothing new to the realm.
• Jacaerys would do everything to always be as next to you as possible since your betrothal announcement. He was euphoric at the idea of finally being able to express to the whole world how much he was in love with you. He would hold your hand during dinners and stay by your side during the Small Council meetings.
• Flying together would be one of your favorite couple's activities. You would ride your dragon and Jacaerys would ride Vermax so you could pass through the skies together and then stop somewhere, a little time away from the Court and with more privacy. At first, Jace always tried to be a gentleman, chuckling when you took advantage of the moment alone and kissed him almost roughly. Jacaerys let you guide his body further away from your dragons and lying on the floor so you could sit on his lap and not just kiss him, but also rub yourself against him.
• "Gods... You are such a tease, sweet sister." He murmured as you rested your hands on his torso, your hips moving back and forth, the friction causing both of you to moan even though you were dressed in your flying clothes.
• Jacaerys tried to wait until the wedding. He really tried very well. He was a gentle young man and had been successful in never going to brothels. But prostitutes were nothing compared to you. Your twin only had eyes for you, and it was not long before the two of you fucking in secret. It started when he went to your chambers during a night when he was insomnia, managing to get through without being caught by the guards thank the Seven.
• You were horny that night. All it took was a bit of small talk between you until the night turned into sighs and low moans of pleasure as Jace sank into your cunt, his eyes wide and full lips parted, making whimpering sounds and enjoying the warm of your tight walls.
• After taking your virginity and losing his too, Jace held you in his embrace, both of you naked and sweaty, your breasts pressed against his chest until you finally fell asleep. He stroked your damp hair and placed a kiss on your forehead, covering your body before leaving, so as not to arouse any suspicions whisper. Even though Rhaenyra was not against sex before marriage, neither you nor Jace wanted your mother to know about you two already doing it.
• Free time at the library was also a joint pastime. It always started with you accompanying your twin during his study hours, helping him learn High Valyrian, correcting him when he pronounced something wrong.
• Jacaerys was always embarrassed when he was corrected, his cheeks red and a pout on his lips to try to hide his slight anger. You knew how much he pressured himself, afraid of not being a great King in the future. Some alternative study methods were needed and established then.
• "Kostilus, ñuha jorrāeliarzy..." Jace moaned tearfully, the High Valyrian pronunciation of the plea and the sweet words sounding perfect for someone who was feeling his betrothed riding his cock. "Ride me faster. I need to cum inside your cunt so bad..." Your brother grabbed your hips to help you move the way he needed.
• During the betrothal, Jace was so soft when he was fucking you, unfortunately needing to avoid love marks that would make it very clear what you were doing hidden in the free time. He also focused more on your pleasure than his own, always making a point of caressing your sensitive pearl with his fingers and playing with them inside you, until you had to put the palm of your hand in your mouth to muffle the moans, sounds wet sounds echoing throughout the room.
• When your lunar blood arrived, your twin's behavior was something mixed with relief and disappointment. A part of him was less worried knowing that you were not pregnant until the wedding ceremony. A pregnancy before the right time could cause a lot of bad rumors about the two of you. But he was also so fucking frustrated, thinking about what your future children would be like, so eager to make that dream come true soon.
• You were not a termagant couple. The few times you fought during the betrothal were because Jace was being stubborn and childish on a daily basis. If he was reprimanded at a Small Council meeting, he would sulk for hours, making you two argue because you tried to talk to him about the situation and he just gave you the silent treatment, even though you were not directly connected to the problem. The arguments did not last long, ending with Jace entering your chambers late at night to apologize, making you sigh with relief and then welcoming him to your bed so you could spend a few hours together to make up the lost time.
• We can say that Jacaerys would be extremely excited for the wedding ceremony. The more the days approached, the happier and more talkative about that your twin brother became. He had been waiting for that specific day for months like an eager boy, also secretly dreaming about a life like this for years. It would be a classic Valyrian Wedding rite and Jace would be smiling at you all the time as if you were the prettiest girl in all of Westeros. And in his eyes you really were. His twin sister, the love of his life. Now his dear wife, the one who would be the mother of his children and his Queen Consort.
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azzibuckets · 1 month ago
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we make a good duo [pazzi]
paige bueckers x azzi fudd
summary: some christmas day fluff written at 1 am for yall….and also a fic finally written from azzi’s perspective😪 | masterlist
Azzi wakes up smothered by blonde hair.
It shouldn’t be a surprise that Paige has somehow made her way on top of her in her sleep. Yet despite three years of dating and seven years of sharing beds together, she still marvels at how Paige can possibly make herself comfortable with her limbs all splayed out across Azzi’s body.
As if on cue, Paige burrows her head deeper into the crook of Azzi’s neck with a contented sigh. Azzi runs her fingers over her back for a moment, allowing her girlfriend a few seconds of rest before slowly starting to slide her body out from under the older girl without waking her.
Azzi’s unleashed her arms and is prepared to wriggle out her legs next when Paige hooks a leg over her body, pulling her in.
“Paige.”
Paige’s eyes remain tightly shut, but her fingers curl just a little bit tighter around Azzi’s waist.
“Dumbass, I know you’re awake.”
The corner of Paige’s lips turn upwards, and Azzi bites back a smile. “If you’re gonna try and pretend to be asleep, at least keep a straight face.”
Finally Paige opens her eyes, her smirk growing wider. “Oh hey,” she feigns a yawn. “Good morning.”
Azzi pushes Paige’s body, but the blonde stays stubborn in her koala grip around the younger girl’s body. “Get off me. I need to pee.”
“My girl’s so mean to me,” Paige grumbles, lying her head on Azzi’s chest. “Just want some morning cuddles.”
“It’s Christmas, Paige. I bet everyone’s already awake downstairs.”
“They’re still eating breakfast,” Paige says sleepily, eyes already fluttering shut again. She falls silent, her breathing evening out, and Azzi’s about to smack her awake when one of her eyes fly open. “But I could eat mine up here,” she says suggestively, her pupils darkening.
Azzi shakes her head in disbelief. “So fucking dirty,” she mutters, flicking her girlfriend on the forehead.
“Bruh, I’m joking,” Paige complains, exaggeratedly rubbing her temple in faux pain. “Just five more minutes, please?”
Azzi relents, slipping on her side so she can look down at Paige. The older girl looks almost irresistibly good right now, her hair mussed up, blue eyes half lidded and sleepy. Her shirt has ridden up to show a sliver of pale skin and the top of her boxers peeking out over her pajama pants. Smirking a little to herself, Azzi plants a hand on Paige’s waist, caressing the exposed skin of her stomach with her thumb.
Paige’s lips part a little, a breathy moan escaping, but her eyes don’t open. “Feels good.”
Azzi continues to rub circles with her thumb, her hand slowly dipping below her shirt and making her way up Paige’s tummy to her ribs, flirting with the lower hand of her sports bra.
“Fuck.” Paige grabs Azzi’s wrist. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”
Azzi’s hand immediately disappears from under her shirt. “Whoops.” She smiles innocently, giving Paige a kiss on her cheek before sitting up in bed. “We should get ready now.”
Like the fatass she is, Paige brushes her teeth quickly and doesn’t even bother to fix her hair or change her clothes before bounding down the stairs to eat breakfast. Azzi takes her time, carefully making the bed before slowly joining the rest of her family.
She can hear Paige and Jon arguing before she even makes it to the kitchen. “That’s mine!” Jon says, exasperation clear in his tone.
“You had thirty minutes to eat!” Paige shoots back.
“I didn’t know there were strawberries til now,” he complains. “At least give me one of them.”
Azzi walks in the room to see her brother and girlfriend death glaring at each other over an empty bowl on the counter. Paige’s plate is stacked with pancakes, whipped cream, and exactly four strawberries.
“Jon,” she chastises. “Don’t be annoying. Let our guest have the food.”
“Guest?” Jon grumbles. “Are people still guests when they’re here all the damn time?”
“Yes, they are,” Paige interjects. She turns to Azzi, her eyes brightening when she sees her. “Hey.”
“Paige, you don’t even like strawberries,” Azzi, ever the mediator, reminds her as she opens the fridge, searching for orange juice.
“Yeah, they’re for you.” Paige slides the plate over to her before starting to build her own.
“Baby,” Azzi says, dimples on display as she smiles down at her breakfast. “Thank you.”
“Az, can I have one?” Jon says hopefully, his fork already poised at her plate.
“Fuck off,” Azzi says.
“I thought this was the season of giving,” Jon grumbles before storming out of the room.
Paige laughs. She presses up against Azzi, kissing her temple. “We make a good duo.”
“Our brothers hate us.”
Azzi holds her breath for a second. She hadn’t meant to say that - Ours. But when your brother is her brother, when your families are so intertwined you almost forget that you’re not blood related, isn’t that the only way you can describe it? Ours?
But Paige doesn’t even hesitate. She gives Azzi a proper kiss on the mouth, tasting Crest and whipped cream and home. “They do,” she agrees.
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wholoveseggs · 4 months ago
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Kinktober - {Day Twelve}
{<- kinktober masterlist}
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List} {Kinktober}
{Kol Mikaelson x F!Reader} Request { @midoriiakina }: Idea is: She often goes to the library, far from others in a secluded little spot, listening to music while she works and thus, she's oblivious to the world around her while she's working. Secretly, she's already a published author writing romance novels as a side hustle to pay the bills, even writing steamy as hell sex scenes even though she's a virgin, too busy or too shy to have any actual experience herself ... he sneaks up on her while she's working and reads over her shoulder, seeing that she's writing some unexpectedly kinky sex scene. And of course, Kol being Kol, he can't help himself... Kinks list: Overstim, breeding, size kink, height kink (lets be honest, he's a foot and a half taller than her, he can manhandle her around like a doll), hair pulling, public sex (Mustn't be too loud in the library, darling!), squirting/cum, oral, blood drinking (she knows he's a vampire and doesn't care how much he marks her up), virgin (but mostly knows what she's doing), and morning after somno to wake her up for more~!
♡♡♡ Darling! Sweetheart! Babe! Your request was so long & detailed... I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I had to shorten this idea immensely... That being said, I LOVE YOU FOR IT.... SO YOU WIN!!!!! You are the greedy award winner & you get a certificate!!!!!! (see the bottom of this post for your reward) ~ XOXO ♡♡♡
3.1k words - Kinks: library sex, a tad bit meta, Kol being a mega flirt, overstim, size, breeding, hair pulling, public, squirting, blood drinking, inexperience...
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The library was always your favorite place, especially the quiet corners where you could hide and read your books. You could easily get lost there for hours, curled up in an armchair by a window, just reading away your worries.
That was what you had intended to do this afternoon, but inspiration had struck and instead, you had opened your laptop and started writing. It was the perfect way to pass the time, letting your fingers fly across the keyboard as you created worlds and characters and scenarios, letting yourself escape reality.
There was this particular fantasy you liked to write, a series of one shots based on your biggest turn ons, and today you were writing about a vampire that had caught your eye at the Mystic Grill. He was tall and handsome and the thought of him pinning you against a wall was making heat pool between your legs.
You knew who he was, all dark and dangerous, a Mikaelson. But even though the Mikaelsons had a reputation for being trouble, you couldn't help the way your eyes would roam across his chest and down his arms whenever you saw him.
It wasn't like you were ever going to make a move, or even have a chance with someone like that. So instead you chose to channel all your pent up desires into a good story. Your thighs rubbed together as you imagined him kissing you, and you were so lost in the words and the fantasy that you didn't notice anyone approaching you until a shadow fell over your laptop.
"I... um..." you stuttered, not knowing what to say. You wanted to crawl into a hole and die, you were utterly mortified that someone had caught you. You had been so careful to keep it a secret, and now...
Your head snapped up, heart in your throat, and you found yourself staring up into the face of the very same vampire you had been writing about. Kol Mikaelson stood behind you, leaning in to read over your shoulder. "Interesting... 'his hands pinned my hips against the wall as his fangs dragged across my neck.' how very kinky of you," he chuckled, and you quickly shut your laptop, your cheeks burning bright red.
"Don't stop on my account, love. I was quite enjoying the story," he said, taking the seat across from yours. "What happens next?"
You gaped at him, mouth hanging open, trying to form a response. What the hell did he mean by that?
He grinned at your reaction, "You know, we could make that happen if you'd like."
"I... what? No! That's... that's ridiculous," you shook your head, unable to believe he was actually propositioning you. You must have been dreaming. There was no way Kol Mikaelson was flirting with you.
"Why is it ridiculous? Do you have a boyfriend or something?" he asked, grinning even wider when you shook your head. "So why not? It's just a bit of sex,"
You didn't know what to say, so you just sat there staring at him. After a minute he laughed and leaned forward. "Come on, don't tell me you've never had sex before, sweetheart."
Now you really wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. Maybe there was a spell to make you invisible, so you could just disappear from this conversation.
"I, um, I mean, not... not exactly," you finally managed to stutter, cheeks burning even hotter.
He leaned back, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "Well now that is unexpected, considering the words you have flowing through that pretty little head of yours."
You blushed, unable to meet his gaze. This was so embarrassing, but it also felt strangely exciting. No one had ever talked to you like this, and the fact that it was Kol made it even better.
Kol watched your reactions, and decided he was going to have a bit of fun with you. He had seen you around town in the past few weeks, and he knew you were a witch, a very cute one at that. And he loved cute witches, they were always so much fun to tease.
"How about this then, since you're so innocent, let's play a little game," he said, smirking at the way you were fidgeting. "We can each tell each other a fantasy, and if we both like it, then we can act it out."
You swallowed, looking up at him, "please stop," you whispered, feeling nervous.
"What do you mean?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I... I mean I don't appreciate you making fun of me," you mumbled, looking down again.
Kol frowned, surprised. "I'm not making fun of you, love, I just want to get to know you a little better," he said, trying a different tactic.
You looked up at him, not sure what to say. He sounded sincere, and he was so attractive that it made you nervous. You wanted him to be sincere, to actually like you, but you couldn't stop the tiny voice inside you telling you that this was all just a joke.
He smiled softly, seeing the conflict in your eyes, "How about this, I'll tell you one of my fantasies, and if you like it, you can tell me one of yours."
You considered his offer for a moment, biting your lip as you looked up at him, trying to decide if he was being serious or not. Finally, you nodded, "Okay," you whispered, curious to hear what he would say.
He smirked, pleased that you had agreed, and leaned closer, "I love it when I have a pretty little thing in my lap... and she... makes a mess, if you know what I mean,"
You could feel your body responding, his words sending a rush of heat through you. You shifted in your seat, pressing your thighs together, unable to deny how aroused his words had made you.
Kol noticed the shift in your body, and he knew he was getting to you. "Come now, darling ... You write about these things, but can't speak them aloud?" he asked, smirking at the way you blushed.
You were growing tired of feeling so embarrassed, so you took a deep breath, willing yourself to be confident, to be the version of you that you wrote about. You met his gaze, "I've fantasized about... having sex in public," you said, voice shaking slightly.
He raised his eyebrows, a slow smile spreading across his lips. "Well now... that's a very naughty thing for such an innocent little girl," he teased, his words sending another wave of heat through you.
"I'm not that innocent," you retorted, trying to maintain eye contact, but it was hard when his eyes were so dark and intense.
He chuckled, "oh, I'm sure. You just need someone to teach you how to be a proper little slut," he purred, making your core clench.
"And you think you're up to the task?" you asked, surprising yourself with how bold the words sounded coming from your mouth.
"I think I can handle a pretty little thing like you," he grinned, watching as your cheeks turned pink.
You looked around the library, suddenly remembering that you were still in a very public place, and anyone could see you. Your gaze met his again, and you swallowed hard, "what if someone sees us?"
He leaned closer, his eyes burning into yours, "isn't that what makes it so hot?" he whispered, his voice low and seductive.
You bit your lip, your body aching with need. You were still a little hesitant, but there was no denying the way his words affected you, and you were tired of denying yourself what you wanted. This was an opportunity you couldn't let go to waste.
"Okay," you whispered, "let's do it."
His eyes lit up, genuinely surprised that he had convinced you. But he was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He stood up, taking your hand, and led you towards the stacks of bookshelves, further into the library.
There was a cozy little corner that had a couch, and he took a seat, patting his lap, and waited for you to join him. You hesitated for a moment, not sure if you could actually do this, but he was so sexy and confident and you wanted to be just like that. So you took a deep breath and climbed into his lap, straddling his hips.
His hands moved to your waist, holding you in place, and his gaze drifted over your body, taking in the sight of you. "At least tell me you've kissed someone before," he said, giving your hip a little squeeze.
"Of course I have," you replied, feeling a little offended by the question.
He grinned and pulled you closer, pressing his lips against yours, kissing you deeply. You moaned softly, your hands gripping his shoulders, feeling his muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. His lips were so soft, and he kissed you with a passion that made your toes curl.
You had kissed guys before, but it had never felt like this. He knew what he was doing, and he certainly knew how to turn a girl on. He tasted like mint and spice, and you felt dizzy with desire.
He pulled away, leaving you breathless and wanting more. His lips trailed down your neck, nipping at your skin, and you could feel the slight graze of his fangs. The thought of him biting you was exciting, but also a little terrifying.
A small spark of your magic tingled on your fingertips, a natural reflex to danger, and the feeling made him pause. He lifted his head and looked at you, "do I make you nervous, love?" he asked, a grin spreading across his lips.
You took a shaky breath, trying to calm your racing heart, and shook your head, "No, I'm fine," you said, trying to sound confident, but your voice came out a little squeaky.
He smirked, knowing full well that he made you nervous. But instead of pushing the issue, he reached under your dress and ran his fingers up the inside of your thigh, teasing your warm skin.
"Now, if we were in a more private setting, I would strip you naked and worship every inch of you. But alas, we'll have to be a bit more subtle," he said, his fingers brushing across the front of your panties.
You gasped, and he grinned, knowing the effect his touch was having on you. His fingers continued to tease you, brushing over a damp spot, searching for your little nub, and when he found it, your hips jerked and you let out a moan.
He grinned, loving the way you responded to his touch, and pressed a little harder, making circles with his fingers. "You are such a pretty little thing," he whispered, his other hand moving to grip your hair, tugging slightly.
You moaned at his words, and the sensation of him playing with your hair, tugging on the strands as his fingers moved. It was intoxicating, and you found yourself rolling your hips, grinding against his hand.
"Ooh, she likes it a bit rough, does she?" he teased, his voice low and seductive, "what else do you like sweetheart?"
Your mind was spinning, overwhelmed with sensations, and you struggled to find words. But the way his fingers moved had you desperate for more. "I... I like... the idea of being filled with.. cum." Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, hoping he knew what you meant.
He chuckled, amused by your shyness, "I'm the perfect bloke to try it with then," he said, his words making your stomach flip, "Can't get you pregnant, being a vampire and all... but I sure do love to try…"
His words sent a rush of heat through you, and before you could stop yourself, you were nodding. You wanted him, desperately.
He grinned, pushing your panties to the side and pressing two fingers inside of you, making you gasp.
He worked them slowly, his thumb rubbing circles over your clit, and it was all too much. You had never been this turned on before, and the way he touched you made your whole body feel like it was on fire.
You leaned in and kissed him, desperate for more. He tasted so good, and his lips were so soft. His tongue danced with yours, and he sucked gently on your lower lip, making you whimper.
Your hands gripped his shoulders, and you ground down against his hand, wanting more.
"Eager little thing, seems you aren't quite so innocent after all," he murmured, grinning against your lips.
"I told you, I'm not," you breathed, moaning softly as his fingers moved faster.
He chuckled, enjoying the way you were squirming, your cheeks flushed, the sweet little moans escaping your lips.
He could feel your walls starting to tighten around his fingers, and he knew you were close. He pulled his fingers out, making you whimper in frustration, and quickly unzipped his jeans.
"Now, sweet thing, writing about riding a cock and actually doing it are two very different things," he teased, taking your hand and putting it on his warm length.
You could feel how hard he was, and it was thrilling. His skin was so smooth, and you wrapped your fingers around him, stroking gently. He groaned, his eyes fluttering shut, and you could feel his cock twitching.
"Good girl, keep doing that," he moaned, his hands gripping your thighs, helping you plant your feet on the sofa so that you could lift yourself up.
You positioned his cock at your entrance, feeling the head rubbing against your wet slit, and slowly started to sink down. The stretch was almost too much, and you gasped, feeling your walls stretch around him.
"Slow down," he growled, his fingers digging into your thighs, holding you in place, "You have to take it slow, or else it will hurt."
You stopped, taking a few deep breaths, and tried again. He held your hips steady, guiding you down, and you could feel the burn as he slid deeper. It was an intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain, and you could feel yourself stretching, taking him inch by inch.
When he was fully inside you, you let out a sigh, feeling so full.
"Far superior than any toy that you modern girls seem to favor," he said, chuckling at your expression.
"Shh... let me focus," you hissed, adjusting to the feeling of him.
"So bossy," he teased, but didn't say anything else, letting you take your time.
You moved your hips a little, testing the waters, and a soft moan escaped your lips. He felt so good inside you, filling you completely.
His hands gripped your hips, and he guided you into a slow, steady rhythm, helping you ride him. The muscles in your thighs immediately started to burn, and it was distracting you from your pleasure, so you put a hand on his shoulder and used him as leverage, grinding down harder.
"That's it," he murmured, his eyes glued to the point where you were joined, watching his cock disappear inside you, "you're a natural."
You moaned, feeling your body start to tingle, and knew that you were close. Your nails dug into his shoulders and he groaned, his hips jerking up, driving himself deeper. It didn't take long for you to completely unravel, falling over the edge with a cry, his name on your lips.
There was a sudden loud sound of a book dropping to the floor nearby, and you froze, wide-eyed, suddenly remembering that you were not alone.
Kol laughed, clearly amused by the situation and you pressed your face into the crook of his neck, trying to hide your embarrassment.
"Don't worry sweet girl, no one saw us," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear.
He gently picked you up, keeping your bodies connected as he turned and laid you down on the sofa, his hips grinding against yours. He took your wrists and pinned them above your head, his fingers interlaced with yours.
"Now, let's see how quiet you can be, hmm?" he teased, his hips moving slowly, rocking against yours.
Your fingers dug into his hands, and he picked up the pace, his cock sliding in and out of you, his skin slapping against yours.
"I'm going to fill you up with my cum and make a proper mess of you," he whispered, his lips trailing over your neck, his fangs grazing the skin.
He reached between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing circles over the sensitive nub, and you gasped, the pleasure building inside you again.
His fangs pierced your skin, the sharp pain mixing with the pleasure of his cock thrusting inside you, and it sent you over the edge again. Your thighs trembling, a gush of wetness rushing from your core. Your walls clenched around him, and he groaned, his hips jerking as he came, spilling himself deep inside you.
"That's a good girl, making a mess just like I requested," he teased, his breath hot against your neck.
Your face was flushed, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. It had been the most intense orgasm of your life, and you were still struggling to wrap your mind around what had just happened.
He pulled back, grinning down at you, "See? Way better than fiction," he said, leaning down to kiss you softly.
Your heart was pounding, and you couldn't deny that he was right. Being with him was better than any fantasy.
He pulled back, giving you a wicked smirk. "Well, now that we've established how not very innocent you are, how about I take you home and we can try out all our fantasies on each other,"
You bit your lip and nodded, not able to deny how much you wanted him, again.
He stood, and helped you up, straightening your dress, and fixing his pants. He was surprisingly sweet with you, fixing your hair and leaving little kisses on your cheeks.
"I hope you know I don't want this to be a one time thing," he said, taking your hand and leading you to the exit.
"I wouldn't mind seeing where this could go," you replied, smiling shyly up at him.
He walked with you out of the library, and down the sidewalk, and the cool night air made you shiver. You were glad for the company, and you found yourself leaning into him, his arm around your waist.
"Now, where do you live, my little writer?"
You grinned, and gave him directions, excited for whatever he had in mind next.
After all, it would make a good story, wouldn't it?
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~CONGRATULATIONS~
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fettuccin-e · 1 year ago
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So Good
Kinktober Day 17: Praise Kink
Tags: Miguel O'Hara x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv, fingering (r!recieving), praise kink of course, Miguel has a filthy fucking mouth, shy!reader, miguel going feral because of course he does (w/c: 1.2K)
A/N: Back on my Miguel bullshit for my Kinktober catch-up of course. I cannot help it when he is so big and broad and sexy okay??? Anyway enjoy him goin' feral for his girl for 1k words hehehe (For the month, I have been following this list from flightlessangelwings!)
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He first noticed it after a mission, and cursed himself for never seeing it before. 
It had been innocent, tugging you close to his side as you both walked through the portal back to HQ, whispering a “you did good out there,” into your ear. Innocent enough.
But you had practically squeaked, your eyes looking anywhere but him, nearly pulling out of his grasp. Miguel saw how your thighs clenched together at the compliment, and it takes everything in him not to take you in the hallway right then, bury his face between them.
He doesn’t. He opts for filing it away in his mind, saving the information for later, somehow knowing that it would be important.
You both hadn’t been together for very long then, still in the trial stage of this new beautiful thing between you both. He was still hesitant to kiss you then, you had still been hesitating to go to his apartment with him.
But Miguel watches, waits, and of course, gathers more information. Starts complimenting you more on missions, in the office. Tells you what good work you’ve done, how you look so pretty in the new dress he bought you. It makes you fluster nearly immediately, your gaze pinned to the floor as you smile shyly, and fuck, those gorgeous, gorgeous thighs clench together every time. Taunting him.
Finally, after months of watching, waiting, he gives in.
He’s got you spread out beneath him, practically sobbing as he fucks you deep on his thick fingers. You loosen up so easily for him, desperate for it, your slick fucking dripping around his hand. Finally, after so long waiting to tell you exactly what goes on in his mind when he has you like this,  he lets himself speak aloud.
“So good, hermosa, taking me so well,” he murmurs, and watches as your eyes fly open, a strangled moan flying from your lips. He can’t help the smile that plays at his lips. “You like that baby? Like hearing how good you are, how perfect you sound when I’m playing with this gorgeous pussy?” He can fucking feel the way your cunt clenches around his fingers with his words.
“Fuck, oh my God, Miguel-” you gasp, but you can’t seem to help yourself as you grind your hips towards Miguel’s hand. He adds another finger, stretching you wide to take his cock. “You- you can’t just-”
Miguel growls, leaning forward to nip at your jaw with fanged teeth. “Oh baby, of course I can. I can tell you how fucking good this pussy feels around my fingers, how it’s going to feel even better around my cock. This little cunt gets so wet for me, doesn’t she?” You whine wordlessly, and Miguel grinds the calloused pads of his fingers into that sweet spot that makes you fucking scream for him. “Answer me,” he snarls.
“Yes! Yes, ‘m so fucking wet, need you to fuck me so bad, Miguel,” you cry, humping your hips desperately into his hand, chasing your orgasm. 
“Come on, sweetheart, soak my fucking hand,” he says, deep and dark, his eyes trained on the way your entrance leaks around his fingers. He reaches a thumb up to rub hard circles into your clit, and chuckles darkly when you let out a shaky moan with your orgasm, clenching around his thick fingers and somehow getting even wetter.
“So fucking pretty when you cum for me,” he mumbles, and your eyelids flutter shut, trying to breathe through the aftershocks.
Miguel pulls his hand out of your gaping entrance, bringing his hand to his mouth and sucking your slick off his fingers. “Tastes so good, baby,” he murmurs, and you whine softly under your breath, completely at a loss for words.
Leaning down, he licks into your mouth, giving you a taste of yourself as he notches the thick, leaking head of his cock to your entrance, pushing in, in, in.
Like every time you take him, it’s so much, and you gasp into his mouth as his cock reaches so deep inside, spreading you wide enough that you fear you’ll break.
“I know, amorcita, I know, it’s so much, isn’t it?” he whispers against your lips as he pushes in to the hilt. "You’re taking it so well for me though, baby, so fucking good for me.” 
He can’t help the groan that wrenches its way out of his throat when you clench around him like a vice, moaning high in the back of your throat. His hips move of their own accord, pulling slowly out of you before he shoves himself back in, and it feels like he reaches even deeper.
“God, Miguel-” you moan, “it feels so good, you feel so big.” And Miguel’s vision blurs at the edges, his eyes tingeing red at your words.
He loses himself to it, the way your cunt squeezes him every time he pushes inside, hot and tight and fucking maddening. You claw at his shoulders every time he presses deep, grinding the tip of his cock into your cunt while overwhelming pleasure sparks up your spine.
He wraps his strong arms around the small of your back, tugging you up into a nearly impossible arch as he fucks into you like a goddamn animal, your head pressed back into the pillows. “So fucking perfect,” he snarls, and God, he’s not even talking to you anymore. His eyes are unfocused, wild, unable to focus on your face or the sight of your swollen pussy as you take him over and over and over. But he doesn’t stop talking. 
“Fucking perfect, beautiful girl, taking my cock so goddamn well. My fucking girl, so good to me with her perfect pussy, feels so good, Dios, necesito este cuerpo constantemente, mi nena, mierda-”
Your head swims, blood pounding in your ears as he takes and takes and takes. You feel tears fall down your cheeks, choked moans forcing their way from your lungs.
Your orgasm rips through you without warning, without buildup, your body just locking up and electrified like a livewire as you soak his cock, his thighs. 
“Good girl,” he rasps. “That’s my good fucking girl.”
“Shit- Miguel-” you keen, but he only shushes you, nearly hissing through his fangs, as he pushes as deep as he can into your body, pumping you full as his cock pulses inside of you. It’s fucking everything, pure bliss, and you both tremble through it together. He lowers your hips slowly back down to the bed, keeping himself buried deep inside while you quake through the aftershocks.
Time passes, but you can’t tell how fast it does. Only that you try to match your breathing together, Miguel wiping the tears off your cheeks. “Fucking perfect,” he whispers, but you’re too fucked out to respond.
He pulls out slowly, rolling you to your side, and plastering himself to your back. You can hear the way he breathes you in, and you settle into his warm body.
“Got a thing for compliments, baby?” he murmurs into your hair.
“You ass, I was trying to be subtle about that,” you admonish, but you can’t help the way you smile.
“Can’t hide anything from me, sweetheart,” he chuckles, his chest rumbling against your back. You tilt your head to the side, and Miguel leans to meet you in a kiss.
“I’ve still got my secrets, O’Hara,” you mutter against his lips, and Miguel grins.
“If you say so, baby.”
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bahablastplz · 11 months ago
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Roommate: Chan x Reader
Roommate Chan who wants to help you destress with a massage after a long day... Content: Just straight-up smut Warnings: Fingering, praise, degradation, a little humiliation WC: 1100
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You were laying on the couch with Chan. 
Chan has been your roommate for some time and your friend for longer than you could remember, so to be sprawled across the couch, limbs somewhat intertwined and a movie to be played in the background was nothing unfamiliar. Especially after a long day at work, taking the time to unwind together was nothing new. 
But today you were just so tense. Stiff all over, muscles tense and sore, you were unable to find relief. You suppose that your gym workout from yesterday had been a little intense, and you were certainly feeling it now. 
Subconsciously as you watched, you started to punch your legs a little bit, trying to get the tightened muscles to relax. 
Chan’s hands shot out and grabbed your own, making you freeze. 
“What are you doing, babygirl?” He sounded concerned but the nickname made sparks fly through your body. 
“Nothing,” you say, trying to explain it away. Of course, Chan would never let that happen. 
He doesn’t let go of his grasp on your hand. “You call punching your legs ‘nothing?’” He inquires. 
“My legs are just a little sore,” you sigh. “It was leg day yesterday.” 
“Ahhh,” he says, as if that explains everything. Maybe it did. His eyes are back on the screen, but his hands are grabbing your legs to place them over his lap, pulling you even closer to him.  
“What are you–” 
“Shhh, helping,” he says. His big, strong hands are on your legs now, his dexterous fingers working into your muscles. You let out a sigh of relief as you feel him working away the tension, his thumbs moving over your thighs to rub deep yet gentle circles into your skin.  You’re aware of every movement, however, and you hate how flustered his actions have you. Chan never shied away from physical touch, and he’s even given you a brief platonic shoulder massage before. As your roommate, of course he’s seen you in more vulnerable scenarios, seeing into the more casual or intimate aspects of your life, but this… you couldn’t help but stare at the man who seemed so unfazed. 
As he rubs into a particularly sore area, you let out a tiny groan. 
“Feels good?” he asks, a small smirk splaying across his features but his eyes glued to the screen. 
You nod your head. The tone of his voice has arousal running through your entire body and your breath hitches as he moves higher, still only mid-thigh. You hope he doesn’t catch your reaction–surely he won’t, he’s not even watching you.  
Lightly he slaps the inside of your thigh, causing you to gasp. “Use your words,” he scolds. 
“Yes,” you answer, too fast. “Feels good, Chan.” 
“Good girl,” he praises, though the way he coos the words makes it feel less like a compliment. Your eyes stay glued to him and the way he stays unaffected; his words make you squeeze your thighs together lightly, searching for a little relief. What you weren’t expecting was for him to grab the flesh of your thigh hard between his fingers, causing you to let out a moan. 
“Such a filthy girl,” he says. “Here I am trying to give you a massage and make you feel good but you’re over here having dirty thoughts, aren’t you?” His hand stays between your legs, rubbing your inner thigh but not making its way higher. You squeeze your legs harder, trapping his hand between your legs. 
“Need you, Chan. Touch me, please?” You decide to just say it, just needing to get past the hurdle knowing it will be worth it. He doesn’t let up as easily as you think though. 
“Oh? But I am touching you, sweet girl,” he says, pinching your inner thigh and causing you to spread them open for him. “Or are you talking about your needy pussy?” He trails his hand up, resting it against your clothed core. You nod your head unabashedly and he laughs at your excitement. His eyes are on you now, finally, and you burn under his gaze. You watch as he pushes the fabric to the side and dips his fingers shallowly into your entrance, gathering your arousal on his fingers. He pulls out to show you how soaked his fingers are. 
“Look how wet you are for me, baby,” he praises. “My sweet, dirty girl is so needy for me, all from a little touching.” 
“Just for you,” you confirm, and you watch him take a deep breath, affected by your words. Sliding his hands back down to your center, he gathers more of your arousal and spreads it around your clit, circling slowly around the area with his fingers. It’s obvious from his stare that he is more than alright with taking his time with you, relishing in the way that you fall apart on his fingers. He hisses when you spread your legs open wide for him, giving him full access. He moves fast, grabbing your shorts and ripping them off of your body. When you close your legs again he tuts, grabbing them and forcing them wide open for him, slotting his body in between your legs. 
“Such a pretty pussy,” he says. He slides two fingers into your entrance now, shallowly fucking his fingers in and out of you. “Such a slutty pussy, for me.” You relinquish control and let him take over, submitting to the urge to arch your back and let out a loud moan. He continues to babble about how he can’t believe he’s waited for so long to have you like this, how he’s been thinking of touching your pussy for so long, and you start to tremble beneath him. 
“Chan,” you say, trying to warn the man, but he shushes you. 
“I got you,” he says. He shoves his fingers into you deeper but doesn’t change his pace, curling his fingers. “Let go for me.” That’s all you need to find your release, completely coming apart for him on his fingers. He sweet talks you right through your orgasm, slowing his movements. 
You watch as he pulls his fingers out of you, looking deep into your eyes as he puts his fingers into his mouth and sucks. “So sweet,” he says, more to himself than to you. He reaches over your body for the remote, clicking the power button and turning off the device. The action makes you laugh. 
“What?” he laughs with you. “Don’t act like you were actually watching that, I definitely wasn’t.” You scoff at his words and screech as he picks you up, cradling you into his chest. 
“Your room or mine?”  ***
Author's note: Sorry not sorry for the double Chan post, he is my bias though so don't be surprised...
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muniimyg · 21 days ago
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𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!yoongi (17) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹
series m.list // taglist closed
note: i lied !! this is not the last written ,, but the 2nd to last !!! enj <3
tw: mommy issues
//
the party hums around you like static, but you keep glancing toward the patio doors. your fingers twist around the fabric of your dress as if pulling on it could pull yoongi back inside. 
you know why he left.
he didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to.
you saw segments of it. you saw the way his eyes shifted as your mom hooked her arm through jungkook’s, smiling at him like he was god’s gift to this family, cooing at him in a way she never cooed at yoongi.
it’s like she wasn’t even going to give him a chance. 
like there was no space for any consideration. 
it wasn’t jealousy. 
okay, well… maybe it is. 
the feeling is foreign to yoongi. he doesn’t do jealousy. at least, not really. but yet again, no one has ever mattered to him more than you. not to mention that this jealousy feels different. it’s something quieter—an ache he can’t recognize. 
when he finally comes back, relief washes over you. 
he smiles at you and tilts his head as he gets closer. without a word, you reach for him, your fingers curling lightly around his wrist, and he follows you as you lead him toward the cake. 
“get enough air?”
he nods. 
“sorry i stepped out.”
you shake your head and squeeze his wrist. yoongi’s heart lifts an inch, suddenly not feeling as down as before. your little gesture is all the reassurance he needs. 
then, your attention shifts as nam joon steps in and places a cake in front of you. the pastel display is perfect—a tower of soft yellows and sage greens, delicate edible flowers, and tiny footprints decorating the frosting. you stand together in front of it, your hand brushing against his as murmurs ripple through the crowd, the excitement building.
“jiun!” you call out into the crowd, “did you make this? it’s perfect…”
jiun pokes her head out and laughs. she waves her hand and brushes your compliment off like it wasn’t the one thing she looked forward to the most from tonight. 
“you recognize my piping skills?”
you scoff at her, “i taught you them.”
everyone laughs. yoongi tugs you in closer, wrapping himself around you. just as you two pick up the knife to cut through the cake together, your mom’s voice slices through the moment— sharp and expectant. 
“what’s the gender?” 
yoongi glances at her, calm as ever. 
“it’s a surprise.”
his voice is even. it’s almost like you couldn’t tell she had just pissed him off. 
your mom tilts her head and looks at you funny. her lips press into a thin line. you know this look. you know her. you brace yourself. 
“well, what’s this baby shower for then? if we won’t even know the gender? ___, why would you have an entire party with no news?”
“sweetheart, relax—” your dad starts, his voice gentle but tired. he reaches for your mom but she stands still like stone. 
“i’m just… it’s confusing, isn’t it? you have this big party and pulled people away from their lives to celebrate… what? have a surprise gender reveal at the hospital? god, ___. wasn’t getting knocked up by someone that isn’t even your boyfriend surprise enough?”
“you can leave if you like,” you say, cutting her off. your tone is steady, your gaze unwavering as you glance at her. yoongi’s hand shifts slightly, his fingers rub circles on your palm. you don’t look away but just in case you do, yoongi is more than ready to turn his back with you. 
your mom blinks, stunned for a moment. then her voice dips, low and scornful. “___, you take time from my life, fly me out here for a party that has no rhyme or reason? do you understand that?”
you don’t flinch. 
“is the gender that important? isn’t it more important to see your pregnant daughter happy and healthy? or the fact that we’re prepared for this baby regardless of gender?”
she nods slowly. “well, yeah. you are healthy. look at all the weight you’ve put on—”
“what?” the word escapes you before you can stop it, a mix of disbelief and anger catching in your throat.
“what?” she snaps back. “you’re pregnant. of course you’re going to gain weight! but not that much, ___. that’s not healthy. you should be healthy for your baby—”
your dad is quick to step in, murmuring apologies as he takes her arm and leads her away from the crowd. for a moment, everything feels too quiet, the tension sitting heavy in the air.
yoongi’s hand is on your elbow now, firm but careful. “i’m sorry,” he says immediately, his voice low and tight with frustration. “i should’ve said something while she—”
“no.” you shake your head, offering him a faint, tired smile. “it’s fine. you’ve never met her. i should’ve prepared you.”
he doesn’t look convinced, his jaw tight as he glances at the crowd. you can see the tension in his shoulders, like he’s holding himself back from saying something to her, even now. you shake him off and step forward with a smile. 
“sorry about that everyone! i think taehyung and jimin have some games prepared… taehyung? jimin?” you announce.
everyone murmurs and shifts their attention to jimin and taehyung who enter the crowd with baby bottles in their hands. as they begin to instruct the activity, everyone’s mood lightens up. you turn and see your parents arguing outside, sigh, and cut yourself a slice of cake. 
“___,” yoongi starts. “do you want me to talk to her—”
“hey,” hyemi interrupts. she instantly hugs you and murmurs; “ignore her.”
when you two pull away, you shrug and nod. “always do.”
hyemi laughs and so do you. then, there’s a pause… it’s an odd acknowledgment of what had just happened. 
“i want to take a picture of you two,” hyemi says. “give me your phone!”
yoongi reaches from his pocket and hands hyemi his phone. then, he moves behind you without hesitation, his hands finding your waist like they’ve always belonged there. you lean back against him slightly, letting his warmth seep into you, and he adjusts instinctively. one arm loops around your middle, his palm spreading wide over your belly, while his other hand covers yours where it rests just above the bump.
he dips his head closer, his breath brushing your temple as he murmurs, “you okay?”
“yeah,” you whisper back, your voice soft. you tilt your head slightly, your cheek almost brushing his, and a small, genuine smile curves your lips. his thumb moves in slow, soothing circles over the fabric of your dress, grounding you without needing to say more.
“say cheese!” hye mi calls. 
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the drive home is quiet, the kind of silence that settles after a long day—comfortable, but heavy with exhaustion. the scent of cake still lingers faintly on your skin, mingling with the lavender fabric softener yoongi insists on using. your hands rest in your lap, absentmindedly playing with the ribbon tied around one of the small baby shower favors you forgot to hand out.
yoongi glances at you briefly as he turns into the driveway. he doesn’t say anything, but his hand finds the back of your seat, a grounding touch, as he maneuvers the car.
inside, the living room is crowded with pastel-colored bags and tissue paper spilling over like confetti. you’re too tired to sort through it all, but yoongi is already kicking off his shoes, rolling up his sleeves.
“let’s just get the big ones out of the way,” he says, nodding toward the gifts stacked near the door.
“we can do it tomorrow,” you reply, but he’s already lifting a box, his jaw tightening slightly at the effort. you smile despite yourself, shuffling over to help.
it’s slow work, peeling ribbons and folding tissue paper, but he makes it easier somehow. he holds up a tiny pair of baby shoes at one point, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that quiet, amused way that makes your chest feel warm.
by the time you’ve cleared the last bag, your eyelids are heavy, and your back aches in that deep, persistent way that’s become familiar. you yawn, stretching, and yoongi tugs you gently toward the bedroom.
“i’ll clean up the rest,” he says, voice low. “go change.”
you nod, too tired to argue. the moment you step into your pajamas, though, your phone buzzes on the nightstand. you glance at the screen, your stomach sinking when you see her name.
“it’s my mom,” you say quietly.
yoongi doesn’t hesitate. he leans down, presses a soft kiss to your temple, and leaves the room without a word. the door clicks shut behind him.
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the conversation starts civil enough. you’re careful, keeping your voice calm, but the words start to unravel quickly. she’s still stuck on the baby shower—her comments sharper now, laced with disappointment that sinks deep. you try to defend yourself, but it’s like shouting into a storm. by the time she hangs up, your hands are shaking, and your face is wet with tears you didn’t realize were falling.
the door creaks open, and yoongi steps in, holding a glass of water. his brow furrows when he sees you, and he sets it down on the nightstand before crouching in front of you.
“what happened?” he asks, his voice quiet but steady.
you shake your head, wiping at your face quickly. “it’s nothing. just my mom being… my mom.”
yoongi doesn’t look convinced. he reaches for your hands, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “what did she say?”
you hesitate, but the way he’s looking at you—soft, patient, like he’s ready to carry the weight if you just let him—makes it impossible to hold back. 
“she said she’s disappointed in me and doesn’t like this at all. this. me, the baby… you.”
yoongi’s whole heart drops.
it’s like he can feel the crack, the way it travels deep into his chest, the way it aches, sharp and immediate. you’re sitting there, looking so small despite the weight you carry, despite the way you hold yourself like you have to convince the world you’re fine.
he’s seen that look on you before—quiet, composed, a little too still. like the words didn’t just cut you but carved something out of you, left it hollow and raw. and maybe it’s selfish, but it feels like his fault. like he’s failed you somehow.
all this time, he’s been your friend, your partner in some twisted, unexpected way, and yet it wasn’t enough to protect you from this. wasn’t enough to stop you from hearing the things he knows you shouldn’t believe, not for a second.
“she said i’m gonna be a bad mom because i’m a bad daughter.”
the words echo in his mind, cruel and biting. 
his mind panics. 
there’s an urge to find a way to erase your mother’s words, to replace them with something softer, something truer. but he doesn’t know how.
his throat tightens as he watches you, your hands clenched in your lap, the tears you’ve tried to hide still glistening on your cheeks. he wants to reach for you, wants to pull you close and hold you until the weight of it lifts, even just a little.
because he knows you. 
he knows the way you’ve given so much of yourself, even when you’ve had nothing left. he knows the way you care, fiercely and unconditionally, even when it’s never been returned the way it should.
and most of all, he knows this—this terrible thing your mother said—isn’t true. couldn’t ever be true.
but the fact that you believe it, even for a second, breaks something in him.
he swallows hard, forcing the words past the knot in his throat. 
“she’s wrong,” he says, his voice quiet, steady—a soft weight in the air between you. “you know that, right?”
you don’t answer.
you don’t even look at him, your gaze fixed on the floor, the silence pressing against you like a heavy fog. and it hurts more than he’s ready to admit, the quiet stretch of time where you don’t speak, where your body language says it all. the way your shoulders curl in, like you’re trying to make yourself smaller, more invisible. more untouched. but he stays there, crouched in front of you, his knees pressing softly into the floor as his hands—gentle, warm—reach for yours. his fingers are steady, holding you like you're something delicate, fragile.
because if there’s one thing he’s sure of, it’s this: he’ll spend the rest of his life proving her wrong for you, if that’s what it takes. 
proving to you that you are, and always will be, enough.
“why do i believe her, then?” your voice cracks, low and broken. the words stumble out as if they’ve been sitting in your chest too long, rattling around, desperate to be freed. you finally meet his eyes, searching them like you’re looking for an answer you can’t quite find yourself. 
“i’ve tried my whole life to get her to like me… and she doesn’t. i’m too messy for her, and when i’m not messy, i’m too good. i—i don’t know, yoongi. i’ve always had a complicated relationship with her, but i thought— i thought it was just a phase. that maybe when i grew up, it would fade. but it never did. the way she would barge into my room, pick me apart in every way she could—it felt like i was suffocating. like i was drowning in her expectations and the way she made me feel so... small. i wasn’t me anymore, i was someone else—a version of myself that wasn’t even mine to keep. and my heart... it aches for her. for me. for us. because at the end of it all... we didn’t deserve to treat each other that way.”
yoongi shifts closer, moving until his knee brushes against yours. his hand comes to rest on your back, a warm, steady presence against the chill of your words. the softness in his touch is an anchor, pulling you back from the storm inside your chest.
“you never talk about her,” he says, his voice quiet, almost like he’s afraid to break the fragile silence. “do you wanna talk about her?”
“who are you? my therapist?” you try to smile, but it’s weak, shaky at the edges. yoongi nods, his thumb brushing a tear from the corner of your eye, a quiet, tender gesture that makes you ache in ways you don’t know how to explain. 
“she’s not a bad person,” you start, the words faltering on your tongue. “a-and i’m not justifying what she did today, but… i want you to know, she’s not all bad.”
“i believe you,” yoongi hums, his voice low and full of trust. “she birthed you. you’re my entire world. there’s no way you came from anyone bad.”
the words hit you like a blow to the chest, and for a second, you almost choke on a sob, your throat tight with the weight of it all. the love in his words, the unspoken promise to protect you from everything, even her. you swallow hard, trying to push the emotions back, but they don’t stay. 
not when you’re so raw.
“s-she’s really warm,” you continue, your voice barely above a whisper now. “she’s funny when she doesn’t mean to be, and she’s always been the first to sacrifice anything for me. but... she’s also the most selfish person i know. so cold, that there were times i couldn’t find any warmth in myself. but she works hard, yoongi. i know she’s doing her best, even if it’s her first time living, even if i challenged her in ways she didn’t know how to handle. and i want to believe she wanted to be a good mom growing up... that she just didn’t know how to be. but it feels like all my life… i’ve given her chances—”
“does she know that?” yoongi interrupts, his voice gentle but firm. “does she know that those moments for you were chances for her?”
you pause, your fingers tightening around his, the stillness of the moment settling over you like a thick blanket. 
“i think so,” you murmur.
“how do you know?”
“i feel it,” you whisper back, your gaze drifting from his to the space between you, like you’re trying to find the words in the air. “i don’t know how to explain it… but i know she knows. i know she’s trying, just like i am. but when she does things like this, when we have days like today, it pulls me back. it pulls me into being twelve again... like nothing’s changed.”
there’s a heavy pause, the silence between your words thick, deep. 
yoongi’s hand moves up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently brushing away another tear. it’s a slow, careful motion, like he’s trying to hold you together with nothing more than the softness of his touch.
“when i was 12, i promised myself i would never be like her,” you say, the words coming in a rush now, each one heavier than the last. “i promised myself i’d have kids one day, and i’d be everything she wasn’t. but now... now, every day that i’m not with her, every part of this pregnancy—the stillness of it—i think of her. how her body was mine and i was hers. how she also waited and prayed for me… when i remember things like that; i wonder... i wonder if being her isn’t all that bad.”
yoongi’s lips press against your temple, soft, a kiss that lingers like a secret shared between the two of you. you can feel his breath, warm against your skin, and it steadies you in a way nothing else can.
“i’ve grown,” you continue, your voice barely more than a breath. “i’ve taken the time to understand her. and now… i see her. more than just my mom and more than just a woman who hurt me. beyond that… underneath it all; our souls are made up of the same things.”
“___—”
“and maybe that’s what i’ve been so afraid of,” you breathe. “maybe it’s also why i’ve been so obsessed with being a mom… about having a baby and loving well. loving the baby with the capacity she failed to give—i need to prove it to myself, you know? i need to be her… the version of her that i’ve waited for my entire life.”
yoongi doesn’t speak for a long time. 
he just holds you, letting your words sink in, letting the weight of everything between you both settle. it’s a quiet moment, but it feels like the universe itself is holding its breath.
and in that silence, you know—no matter what, you won’t have to prove yourself to him. he already believes you.
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you stir awake, the soft light from the window filtering through the blinds. yoongi’s warmth is pressed against you, his arm draped lazily across your body. his steady breathing fills your ears, a soothing sound that makes it hard to keep your eyes open. you blink, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, but everything feels so comfortable, so safe, like a world outside doesn’t exist.
“morning,” yoongi murmurs sleepily, his voice still thick with sleep. he shifts slightly, his face nuzzling against your shoulder. “how are you feeling?”
you sigh, feeling the weight of the day ahead but not quite ready to leave the quiet of the bed. “i don’t know… kind of better, i guess.”
he nods, but you can tell from the way his fingers gently trace your skin that he’s not fully convinced. his eyes flicker to yours, still heavy with sleep but filled with concern.
“i have something that’ll make you feel better,” yoongi says, his voice soft but certain. he reaches into the nightstand next to the bed, his hand moving with the ease of someone who’s done this a thousand times before.
your eyes follow his every movement, still adjusting to the morning fog, and then he pulls out a small, elegant cartier box. the sleek box catches the light, and your breath catches in your throat.
the silence hangs between you two, thick and full of anticipation, as yoongi opens the box slowly, revealing a ring inside—delicate but timeless, the kind of thing that’s hard to ignore. you feel a flutter in your chest as your hand instinctively reaches out, and yoongi places the ring gently on your finger.
you look at it for a moment, trying to process what this all means. 
“what is this?” you ask softly, voice barely above a whisper, the weight of the ring suddenly feeling heavier than it should.
yoongi runs his thumb around the band, his touch light and tender, as if he’s afraid the moment will slip away too quickly. he hums quietly, the sound more like a low purr than a hum, and then speaks, his voice filled with a quiet certainty that tugs at your heart.
“push present pregift.”
“are you kidding me?
“it’s baby injeolmi’s promise.” he pauses, his gaze softening as he looks at you with a tenderness you never thought possible from him. “no matter how much i want to fix things between you and your mom; i can’t. what i can do is tell you that you’re not going to be your mom. you’re going to be breathtaking and unbelievably perfect at it. even when you fail at times, because inevitably you will—it will be graceful and so full of life. ___, you’re going to be warm and unconditional… baby injeolmi and i promise to love you. good and bad. cold and warm. you. we’re going to love you forever, mama.”
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