#i think i drew dream a bit to small | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

killiaia · 2 months ago

Text

You, only You.

Winter x Male reader.

It was a quiet, almost peaceful evening in bustling Seoul. The noise of the crowd, the bright neon lights and the speeding cars seemed to belong to another world. You, on the other hand, were in a small, discreet café, a place you liked to frequent to escape the hustle and bustle of the city. That evening, you hadn't planned to meet anyone special, but the universe seemed to have decided otherwise.

She entered, dressed in a long coat, her glossy black hair cascading around her shoulders. It was Winter, from Aespa. Even if she wasn't performing, even if she wasn't in the middle of a photo shoot or concert, she exuded an aura that drew attention. But she seemed calm, almost fragile, as if she'd been looking for a place where she could finally relax.

You noticed her immediately. Not because she was a celebrity, but because something about her seemed... human. A stark contrast to the perfect image she was usually portrayed as. She sat at a table near the window, a book in her hand, but her eyes weren't really on the pages.

You found yourself a little lost in thought, watching this face you'd seen hundreds of times on TV, and this simple question crossed your mind: What would she do if someone spoke to her like an ordinary person?

It took you a few minutes to dare break the silence. When you got up to order a coffee, you met her gaze. A fleeting smile appeared on his lips, and something inside you gave you the impression that it was a silent invitation to go further.

You took a deep breath and, with hesitant steps, approached his table.

“Excuse me, I know this is a bit strange, but... you're Winter, right? From Aespa?” You felt immediately embarrassed, but her gaze was gentle, her eyes shining with benevolent curiosity.

She raised an eyebrow, then smiled. “Yes, that's me,” she replied, her tone light but warm. “I didn't think anyone would recognize me here. It's a quiet little spot, isn't it?”

You nodded, realizing that a celebrity like her probably deserved a little quiet now and then. “It's one of my favorite places to escape the noise. I can see why you love it.”

Winter laughed softly, closing her book. “It's rare, to be a little invisible, even in a city this big. But it feels good.”

A silence fell between the two of you, but it wasn't awkward. It was as if you were two strangers in the same space, slowly getting to know each other through gestures and smiles. She seemed different from her public image. More natural, more... human.

“So, what are you doing here in Seoul? Are you working in a cafe or is it just relaxing?”

“I'm here for work, actually,” you replied. “But there's something about this place that takes my mind off the daily grind. What about you, then? How do you feel offstage?”

She stretched slightly and smiled. “That's a good question. There's so much pressure sometimes. But here, I just feel... Winter. Not the celebrity. Just a girl with a book and a cup of coffee. How about you?”

The calm that followed was pleasant. You didn't feel like you were dealing with a superstar, but with someone genuinely human. A simple exchange of glances and words.

The conversation continued, and you realized that you had much more in common than you'd imagined. She was talking about her life, her concerns and her desires, and you were listening with sincere attention. The distance between the world of celebrities and that of ordinary people seemed to be gradually disappearing. She talked about her dreams, her moments of doubt, the challenges that fame brought.

With every word she said, you felt closer to her. Her eyes shone with a gentleness that fascinated you, and you noticed little details, subtle gestures she made, like playing with a lock of hair or fiddling with her coffee cup.

After a while, you realized that the atmosphere between you had changed. What had started out as a shy encounter was becoming something more. There was an undeniable connection, a bond that had been forged slowly but surely. She stood up, looking you straight in the eye.

“I have to go soon, but... I'm glad I talked with you. It was a real conversation. No pretenses, no expectations. Just us, here and now.”

You smile, a little nervous but sincere. “Me too. It's rare to be able to chat like this, with no intention of being anywhere else.”

She gave you one last look, before heading for the door, leaving behind a sweet scent of freedom and authenticity.

Days passed after that café encounter, and despite the discreetness of the conversation, you couldn't get Winter out of your mind. Every moment of silence, every break in your routine was marked by her smile, the gentleness of her words and the warmth of her eyes. It was as if, in one simple encounter, she had found a way to a part of you you weren't used to exploring.

One evening, as you were relaxing at home after a day's work, you received an unexpected message on your phone. It was Winter. She was offering to meet you again, in another café, this time a quieter one, a little away from the city center.

“Would you like to have a coffee? I enjoyed our conversation the other day, and I'd like us to talk more about it.”

You couldn't help but smile at the message. Winter, the world-famous idol, was inviting you to coffee. The thought confused you for a moment. It was hard to realize that she really liked you, not just as a fan, but as a person.

You answered immediately, a little nervous but excited at the idea of seeing her again.

“With pleasure! What time?”

The café she'd chosen was even more secluded than the previous one. It was almost hidden away in a quiet alley, with heavy curtains and a subdued ambience that made the atmosphere intimate and warm. When you arrived, you saw her already seated at a table, a book in front of her but her eyes fixed on you. She smiled at you as you entered, as if this meeting was something she was looking forward to.

“Hi,” she says, motioning for you to sit down, her voice soft but sincere. “I'm glad you came.”

You sat down opposite her, trying to mask your nervousness. It was strange to be so close to her, but at the same time, you felt reassured by her presence. There was something comforting in the simplicity of this moment.

“Me too,” you replied with a shy smile. “It's nice to be able to get together like this, without everyone watching us.”

Winter nodded, his eyes shining with silent understanding. “It's one of the rare occasions when I can just be myself, without the spotlight, without all that goes with it. I like this simple side of things.”

She talked about her life, her pressures, the way her celebrity sometimes isolated her, and with every word, you felt a deeper connection between the two of you. Winter wasn't just a star, she was a person with dreams, doubts, frailties, just like you. And in his words, you heard a sincerity that touched you deeply.

The conversation continued naturally. You talked about everything and nothing, but deep down, there was an emerging tension, an unspoken desire floating in the air. Every smile, every look you shared seemed to say more than words could. Sometimes, she'd delicately touch her coffee cup, and her fingers would brush yours by accident, provoking an instant electric shock, a shiver that ran through your whole body.

One day, after several meetings where the chemistry was growing stronger, Winter proposed an idea. “Why don't we get out of town this weekend? Just you and me, out of sight and out of mind. I've found a quiet little place in the mountains. I thought it might be nice.”

You hesitate for a moment. The idea of going away with her tempted you, but you knew it could also mean something more. A different stage, a change in your relationship. Still, you had this deep desire to spend time with her, to get to know her better, without pressure. So you agreed.

“Why not? It sounds like a great idea.”

The weekend arrived, and you found Winter at the station, ready to leave with you. She was wearing a casual outfit, a little wool jacket and sunglasses that gave her a simple, natural look. When she smiled at you, you already felt at ease, as if you'd left behind all the complexity of your respective worlds.

The journey to the mountains was calm, punctuated by laughter, sincere conversation and moments of pleasant silence. You found yourselves in a secluded chalet, surrounded by nature, a perfect place to escape the stresses of everyday life. The fresh mountain air and the sound of the wind in the trees added to the tranquil atmosphere.

In the evening, after a hearty meal prepared together, you would settle down by the fire, the subdued atmosphere of the flames warming the space. Winter, relaxed, leaned against you. Her light perfume invaded your senses, and you felt a gentle warmth settle between you.

Without even thinking about it, you took her hand, delicately, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Winter turned her gaze towards you, and in her eyes shone a glint of complicity. A silence fell between you, but it wasn't awkward, on the contrary. It was a comfortable silence, full of silent promise.

Finally, it was she who broke the silence. “You know, I feel really good with you. It's strange, but... I don't feel this need to play a role here. Just you and me.”

You looked into her eyes, your heart beating faster. “Me too, Winter. I didn't think this kind of moment would ever happen, but... I'm glad it's here.”

She smiled and slowly moved closer. Her lips brushed yours, shyly at first, before the sweetness of the kiss turned into something more. The moment was simple, but full of meaning. It was as if everything that had gone before, all the doubts and hesitations, had dissipated.

The moment was suspended in time, and for the first time, you felt completely at one with Winter. The complicity that had developed between the two of you only grew stronger.

The days that followed that weekend remained etched in your memory like a sweet daydream. Back in Seoul, routine tried to reclaim its rights, but something had changed. Between you and Winter, a connection had been created that was stronger than mere furtive conversations in discreet cafés.

You continued to write to each other, seeing each other whenever his schedule allowed. Sometimes it was a short evening stroll along the Han River, other times an impromptu dinner in a hidden restaurant where no one would recognize her. Every moment spent together reinforced the strange chemistry between you.

One evening, as you sat in a small noodle restaurant, Winter put down her chopsticks and looked at you, her expression more serious than usual.

“You know... sometimes I wonder if this is a good idea.”

Her tone wasn't cold, but it carried a shadow of concern. You frowned, feeling a weight settle in the air.

“What are you talking about?”

She looked down at her still-steaming bowl before resuming:

“You and me. What we're building... I don't know if I have the right to let myself go into that.”

You remained silent for a moment. You knew what she was referring to. Her life in the spotlight, the expectations of her agency, public opinion. All this formed an invisible wall between you, an obstacle she suddenly seemed to see more clearly.

You took a deep breath before answering, trying to weigh your words carefully.

“Winter... I don't want you to feel this is a burden. If one day you think it's all getting too complicated, let me know. But I also want you to know that, for me, every moment with you is worth it.”

She lifted her head, and in her gaze you thought you perceived a mixture of relief and restrained emotion.

“You're far too kind.” she said with a bitter laugh.

You took her hand gently, sensing her slight hesitation before she relaxed under your touch.

“I'm just being sincere.”

A silence fell, but this time it wasn't a silence laden with doubt. More like a pause, a suspended moment where she seemed to weigh her own feelings.

Finally, Winter sketched a smile, softer this time.

“All right, then. Then let's be sincere, you and I. No matter where this leads.”

And in that instant, you knew that it didn't matter what the obstacles were, didn't matter what the outside world was like. What mattered was this silent agreement between you, this promise made without words, but sealed in a simple look.

The days that followed this conversation were tinged with a new gentleness, but also with a certain tension. Winter hadn't mentioned her doubts again, but something about her seemed different. She was more attentive, more present, and every look she gave you seemed charged with an emotion she struggled to conceal.

She'd never admit it out loud, not yet, but she knew.

She knew she was gradually falling in love with you.

It was a strange sensation, both exciting and terrifying. She had spent so much time erecting barriers, keeping a cautious distance from the outside world, that the realization that she was opening a breach with you disturbed her deeply.

One evening, as the two of you strolled together through the quiet streets of Seoul, she suddenly stopped in front of an illuminated shop window. It was a small boutique selling handcrafted jewelry, and her gaze lingered on a delicately braided silver bracelet.

“It's pretty,” she murmured, almost to herself.

You watched her in silence, observing the way the light from the shop window reflected in her eyes. There was something intimate about that moment, a fragility she showed only to you.

“Do you want me to buy it for you?” you asked softly.

She flinched slightly, then shook her head with a little laugh.

“No, I can't...”

But you'd already pushed open the store door. A few moments later, you emerged with the bracelet in a small case, which you handed to her without a word.

Winter froze for a moment, caught between surprise and emotion. Then, slowly, she took the box and opened it, brushing the jewel with her fingertips.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked half-heartedly.

You shrugged, smiling slightly. “Because I felt like it. And because it gives me pleasure to see your eyes shine like that.”

She lowered her eyes, clutching the box between her fingers. Her heart beat faster than she would have liked, and a soft warmth crept into her. It wasn't just the bracelet. It was what it represented.

It was you.

This kind of little attention, this way you looked at her as if she were just a normal girl, not some unattainable idol... It disturbed her. It touched her.

That night, on her way home, she put the bracelet around her wrist and contemplated it for a long moment. She caught herself smiling for no reason, one hand resting on her heart, which was beating a little too fast.

Winter knew.

She knew she was falling in love with you.

And for the first time in a long time, she wasn't afraid of it.

The days went by, and despite her busy schedule, Winter always found a moment for you. With each message, each appointment stolen between two rehearsals, she felt her attachment grow. It was no longer just a simple attraction, or even a simple friendship tinged with complicity. It was stronger than that.

One evening, as you were walking together under the dim lights of a quiet street, she suddenly stopped and stared at you with a serious, almost nervous expression.

“I've got something to ask you.”

You raised an eyebrow, puzzled. “Tell me.”

She bit her lip, as if hesitating to formulate her words. “You know... you mean a lot to me.” She looked away briefly before plunging her gaze into yours. “And I'd like... for you to meet my members. The girls of Aespa.”

You were speechless for a moment. You knew how much this group was her second family. The mere fact that she wanted to introduce you to them meant that she considered you someone really important.

You smiled, despite the slight nervousness rising inside you. “If it's important to you, then of course.”

She seemed relieved, and a radiant smile lit up her face. “They can be a bit intimidating sometimes, but I'm sure they'll like you.”

A few days later, Winter invited you to drop by after one of their rehearsals in their training room. The idea of coming face-to-face with the other members of the band had been stressing you out all day, but excitement was taking over.

When you walked through the door, Winter greeted you with a smile and gently took your hand, a discreet gesture that no one missed. In the room, Karina, NingNing and Giselle stopped immediately and turned their heads towards you.

Karina, the leader, crossed her arms and flashed a half-amused, half-surprised smile. “So, this is the famous boy Winter's always talking about?”

You felt Winter tense up slightly beside you. “Unnie!” she protested, blushing slightly.

NingNing, for her part, stared at you with a mischievous smile. “I was wondering when she was finally going to introduce him to us.”

Giselle gauged you with her eyes before smiling. “Well, let's see if you can live up to our Winter.”

You couldn't help laughing at their teasing welcome. Despite the pressure, the atmosphere was far from cold or hostile.

Winter gently tightened his grip on your hand and declared, in a more confident voice: “He's my boyfriend.”

A short silence followed. No shock, no opposition, just a moment when the girls seemed to realize that their Winter, usually reserved about her feelings, was really in love.

Karina finally smiled sincerely. “If she's happy, then that's all that matters.”

NingNing approached you and extended her hand. “Welcome to the family.”

You squeezed it with a smile, feeling a pleasant warmth wash over you.

Winter looked at you out of the corner of her eye, and you saw something new in her gaze. A certainty. A pride.

She was no longer hiding her feelings.

She loved you.

And she was ready to make you part of her world.

---

It had been a few weeks since you were officially introduced to the members of Aespa, and your relationship with Winter was blossoming by the day. She had become attached to you in a way she'd never thought possible, and the idea of finally having someone who understood her without idolizing her brought her a new serenity.

But that evening, something unexpected was about to upset her equilibrium.

Winter had arranged to meet you in a quiet café, as usual. She was sitting by the window, absent-mindedly playing with her bracelet - the one you'd given her - waiting for you to arrive.

When the door opened and you entered, she looked up... and immediately froze.

You were wearing a military uniform.

Not just any military uniform. A dark, sober uniform, marked with distinctive insignia she didn't know but which exudes an aura of authority and mystery. She didn't understand. Usually, you were always dressed simply, casually. But now...

She felt her heart quicken as she slowly stood up, a shocked expression on her face. "Is this... a joke?" she asked, almost laughing nervously.

You approached with a gentle smile, but Winter could see your gaze was

serious.

"I wanted to tell you earlier... but I didn't know how."

She scanned you for a long time, searching your face for some sign that this was just a misunderstanding. But it wasn't. You were serious.

"You're..." She swallowed. "You're military?"

You nodded. "Yes. But not only that. I'm part of the Special Forces."

Winter blinked, totally bewildered. She'd expected anything but this.

"Special forces? Like... secret, dangerous missions?"

You let out a small laugh, understanding her confusion. "It's not exactly like in the movies, but yes... it kind of is."

Winter took a step back, trying to assimilate the information. She'd always thought she knew you, that she'd figured out the mystery surrounding you. And yet, here you were revealing a side of you she'd had no clue about until now.

"For how long...?" she asked in a low voice.

"For several years."

She inhaled deeply, trying to organize her thoughts. "You mean... all that time, you were in the Special Forces? That you were going on secret missions and I knew nothing about it?"

You nodded. "I wasn't allowed to talk about it. But now things are getting serious between us... I wanted you to know."

Winter dropped back in her chair, running a trembling hand through her hair. "This is so unreal..."

She raised her eyes to yours, and her gaze was filled with a thousand conflicting emotions. Part of her was impressed, almost fascinated. But the other...

"It's dangerous, isn't it?" Her voice had softened, but contained a hint of fear.

You sighed softly and took her hand between yours. "Yes, it is. But I know what I'm doing, Winter. And I want you to understand that even though it's my duty, it doesn't change the way I feel about you."

She stared at your entwined hands, her heart clenching. Part of her wanted to blame you for not telling her sooner. Another understood why you'd kept it a secret.

After a long silence, she finally raised her head and whispered:

"I don't know if I'm ready to accept that... but I do know one thing."

You looked at her, waiting for her answer.

"I care about you. And I don't want to lose you."

You squeezed her hand tighter, a sincere smile on your lips. "You won't lose me, Winter."

But deep inside her, a new fear had been born. Because she now knew that the man she was falling in love with risked his life on every mission.

And the idea of you disappearing one day seemed unbearable.

She remained silent for a moment, her gaze lost in her still-steaming coffee. Then, slowly, she inhaled deeply and raised her head. "What about now? Are you on leave?"

You hesitated a second before answering, your smile fading slightly. "Well, not exactly... I've just come back from a mission. And..."

Winter frowned, finally noticing what you were trying to hide. A slight grimace, a gesture a little stiffer than usual. Her gaze immediately landed on your arm, where a dark stain was beginning to show through the fabric of your sleeve.

"Are you hurt?" she asked, her voice betraying a hint of anxiety.

You tried to play it down. "It's nothing, just a scratch."

But Winter wouldn't hear of it. She stood up abruptly, walked over to you and, without giving you time to protest, gently pulled up your sleeve. What she discovered made her pale.

A long gash crossed your forearm, still marked by dried blood.

"A scratch?" she repeated, clearly angry and worried at the same time. "You call that a scratch?!"

You attempted a reassuring smile. "I've had worse."

But instead of laughing, Winter clenched her jaw and sat down next to you, grabbing a paper towel to press gently on the wound. "Did you go to a doctor?"

You looked away slightly. "Not yet..."

She let out an exasperated sigh. "You're unbelievable..."

Despite the tension in the air, you sensed she wasn't really mad at you. She was just afraid. Afraid for you.

Afraid of what this meant for your relationship.

"Winter..." You gently grabbed her hand, forcing her to look at you. "I'm here. With you. I'm okay."

She scanned you for a long moment, then shook her head, her anger giving way to immense tenderness.

"Promise me at least one thing..."

You nodded, ready to hear anything.

"When you go on a mission... don't disappear without warning. Even if it's just a message, a note. I want to know you're there, somewhere."

You gently squeeze her hand. "I promise."

She sighed again, then, to your surprise, leaned in to place a kiss on your cheek. "I'll take care of you tonight. No arguments."

You smiled, a little amused, but mostly deeply touched by her concern. "Okay, chief."

Winter rolled her eyes, but eventually a smile came to her lips. Despite the fear, despite the uncertainty, one thing was certain: she wasn't about to let you go.

Everything was perfect. Winter was taking care of you, just like she said she would. The evening was going very well, and Winter had prepared a very good meal. You finished clearing the table, Winter had fetched something from the bedroom so you took care of the dishes.

"I'll take care of you tonight. "says Winter from behind.

You laugh and turn around.

But your laugh dies in your throat when you look at how Winter is dressed. Or in the next case, not so much.

In front of you, Winter is dressed in a flamboyant red lingerie set. The bra lifts her breasts, giving her a bust to die for.

Amused by your reaction, Winter spins around and gives you a view of her ass, perfectly molded in a thong.

Winter's ass is absolutely magnificent. To die for. The thong between her buttocks just begs to be removed.

Winter faces you again and you want to say something but can't. Winter strides forward and you don't dare move. It's as if you're in a dream, afraid she'll disappear.

Winter clings to you and you stop breathing. She gently raises her head to you and sighs sensuously.

"Tonight... I'll take care of you. "

You nod vigorously, Winter could ask you anything, you'd agree.

On tiptoe, Winter places a gentle kiss on your lips. You wish it could last longer, but Winter grabs you by the collar of your shirt.

"Follow me, big boy. "

You let her. Tugging at your shirt collar, you follow Winter. Your eyes linger on her ass and her wiggle. God, you could fuck her right now, it's intoxicating this power she has over you.

You enter the room and Winter tells you to sit down. You listen and sit down on the edge of the bed.

Winter closes the door and, using a remote control, changes the color of the room. A reddish color appears around you, and you feel your heart racing with desire and excitement.

Winter stands in front of you and the young woman raises her hair and arches her body, giving you a magnificent picture. Winter is magnificent.

Winter undulates her body and gives you a look. You've never seen this look before, it's a look just for you, a look that shows Winter wants you.

Winter strokes her curves with her hands. Gently, she runs her hands over her breasts, kneading one before pulling down the bra. Winter's breasts beg to be touched and licked.

You grab Winter by the buttocks, earning a cry of surprise from the young woman, and settle her on your lap.

You don't give her time to protest as you take one of her breasts in your mouth and with your hands you knead her ass.

"Oh my god. Go on, eat my tits. "

With your tongue, you circle her nipple and Winter encourages you by stroking your hair. Winter starts undulating on you, seeking friction between your sexes. With your hands, you put pressure on her buttocks and Winter lets out a moan.

You attack the other breast, licking Winter's nipple. You remove one of your hands from her buttocks and come to knead the singer's other breast.

"I want to suck your cock. " Winter says.

"Go ahead. Suck my cock. "

Winter kisses you before getting off your lap. She kisses your torso and slowly moves down. With her hands, she removes the belt from your pants and Winter takes off your pants.

"Fuck. Your dick looks so big. "

"You think you're going to be able to fit it all in your little mouth? "

As if you'd challenged her, Winter removes your boxers and finally lets your cock out into the open.

Winter hasn't lied, your dick is big. Almost fascinated, Winter grabs your cock and his hand almost can't close around it.

"Wow. " Winter says.

"Still up for it? "

"You bet. "

Winter starts by gently jerking you off. Her movements are slow, almost painful. It's as if she's playing with you, she knows she's in control.

But in her eternal goodness, Winter releases you and you feel her mouth close over your cock.

"Fuuuck Winter. "

Satisfied, Winter pulls your cock out of her mouth with a "pop" and the young woman licks your cock from the base to your tip.

Winter licks your cock as if it were a lollipop. Big licks just for you.

With both hands Winter grabs the base of your cock and her mouth closes around it.

"Wiiinter fuuuck."

Winter jerks you off and sucks you off at the same time. All you hear is the sound of Winter sucking your cock. You can see she wants to put more in her mouth.

"Do you want me to fuck your mouth? "

"Please. "

You stand up and Winter is still on her knees, open her mouth wide and stick out her tongue. You grab your cock and pat her tongue with it.

"What a good girl.

Every time you tap your cock against her tongue, Winter tries to lick it off.

"Fuck my mouth. "

You don't give Winter time to think, you enter your cock all at once deep in the singer's throat.

"It's so fucking good. " You say.

Winter grabs your pelvis and rams your cock into her mouth, drawing a cry of pleasure from you. Winter removes your cock from her mouth and with a trickle of saliva on her chin looks at you.

"Am I sucking Daddy's cock right?"

"You're perfect. Again? "

Winter nods and opens her mouth wide. With both hands you grab the back of Winter's head and impale the young woman's mouth on your cock. You don't give her time and with your hands you guide Winter to suck you off. You notice the tears at the edges of Winter's eyes but you continue the oral assault on her mouth. After several back-and-forth strokes, you withdraw your cock from her mouth and Winter takes a deep breath, looking up at you.

"Again! " Winter tells you.

You start again and Winter gags on your cock.

"I want you to cum in my mouth. "

You start jerking off and Winter sticks his mouth to your cock. It's as if Winter is intoxicated by your cock.

"Cum in my mouth. " Winter says, glued to your cock.

Winter moves her mouth down to your balls and takes a ball in her mouth.

"Fuck Winter. "

"Your balls look so full. Are they for me? Your filled balls are just for me. "

You're gripping your cock so hard. Winter licks your balls in turn.

She pulls off your balls with a wet pop and looks at you.

She says nothing and just opens her mouth wide and sticks out her tongue. Just what you needed to make you come.

You feel yourself coming and position your cock directly towards her mouth.

Several jets of cum come straight into Winter's mouth. Your legs are shaking, the orgasm is so powerful. You look down at Winter, still on her knees, swallowing your cum.

She opens her mouth to show that she's swallowed it all. You catch your breath and Winter winks at you. You follow her with your eyes and Winter slowly gets down on all fours on the bed and bends her back.

"Is Daddy going to fuck me like the slut I am? "

You don't wait a second, pulling off her thong and spreading her ass. Her holes just beg to be licked and fucked.

You put a lick on the singer's vagina which elicits a moan from her.

"Fuck me. I want to feel your big cock. "

You stand up and align your cock with her pussy. In one movement, you take in almost everything Winter is so wet.

"You're so fucking tight. "

"Just for you. My little pussy's tight just for your big cock. "

You grab her hips and start pilloning the singer's pussy.

"Fucking so good. Is my pussy good? "

"Best pussy in the universe."

You straighten up on the bed, offering a new angle of penetration and Winter cries out in pleasure.

You lie on her back and whisper softly.

"How did I ever live without your pussy?"

Winter wants to say something but she's intoxicated by your cock.

You put your fingers in her mouth and Winter licks your fingers.

"What a fucking good girl. I'm not going to be able to live without your pussy."

With your other hand, you find her clit and Winter lets out a moan.

You take your hand away from her mouth and go to knead one of her breasts.

"You're going to come. "

Winter nods vigorously and with your fingers, you lightly pinch her clit.

"You're mine. This pussy belongs to me. All your holes belong to me. "

"Yes..YES!"

Winter spasms. It's her orgasm that has knocked her onto the bed. Completely tired and breathing hard Winter whispers.

"Daddy..."

"Yes baby?"

"Can you breed me?"

"Sure baby. "

Lying on her stomach, Winter spreads her buttocks to help you extend the back and forth of your cock inside her. With a view of her asshole, you can't help but touch it.

"Next time, I'll fuck your ass."

Winter nods.

"But today, let me breed you. "

You pick up the pace and see your cock covered.

"You're fucking creaming. "

Winter spreads her ass even wider and you can't hold on much longer. All you hear is the sound of flesh against flesh. Your pelvis slams against her ass and Winter screams with pleasure.

"I'm going to breed you so much. "

"Fuck. Put a fucking baby in me."

That's what you needed to cum. You sink deep into Winter and let go of the cum.

You pull your cock out and admire your work. Your cum comes out of her pussy and Winter releases her ass.

You lie on top of her and turn her head to kiss her.

"You'd better keep my cum in your pussy."

Winter lets out a little laugh.

#kpop #kpop smut #smut #male reader smut #male reader #aespa #aespa winter #winter smut

992 notes · View notes

unconventional-lawnchair · 6 months ago

Note

"god I'm supposed to hate you, why don't i hate you?" with barty and potter! reader? 👀 the recent fic got me thinking sjdjkdkf

I Might Still Hate You

Barty Crouch Jr. x Potter!Reader

AN: I couldn't sleep last night, I'm blaming this. ANY excuse to write Barty x Potter reader tbh

Summary: An unexpected guest shows up at your house late at night.

WC: ~3k

CW: Small bit of cussing, implied child abuse

You couldn’t remember a single time Bartemius Crouch Jr had ever said something kind to you.

It was likely because he never had.

From the very beginning, you and Barty had been locked in a mutual loathing. Whether it was academic rivalry, dueling matches, or sheer social standing, the two of you couldn’t seem to share a room without bristling at the other’s presence. Maybe it was the way you refused to bow under his threats, meeting his sharp words with sharper ones of your own. Or the way he matched your challenges like a game he was desperate to win, his smirk always daring you to push him further.

But really, it was probably your name.

"Potter."He never just said it- he delivered it, each syllable like a whip crack, leaving something raw behind. You hated the way he said it, how his voice dipped just slightly when he drew it out, like it was a secret he wasn’t supposed to know but delighted in exposing anyway.

“You know, it suits you.” He had told you once, a wicked grin slashing across his face as you squared off in yet another argument. “All that self-righteousness. It clings to you, like perfume.”

Your glare had only made his grin widen. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re exactly what everyone expects a Potter to be. And isn’t that exhausting for you? Always pretending you’re better than everyone else?”

“I don’t need to pretend, Crouch.” You had shot back, stepping closer, challenging him as you always did, smirking. “But maybe you should stop pretending you’re not desperate to prove yourself to me. ‘Clings to be like perfume’? Give me some room, maybe you wouldn't be so wrapped in it.”

That grin faltered just slightly, his eyes narrowing. For a moment- just a moment, you thought you saw something flicker behind his bravado. But then it was gone, replaced by his usual venom. Giving you an expression he saved just for you- unbridled hatred.

“You’re insufferable.” He glared down at you before slowly smirking himself. As if his lip didn't twitch into a frown at your remark.

“And you’re pathetic.” You drawled, running your quill along the bridge of your nose.

Barty had a way of getting under your skin. You told yourself it was just the rivalry. Just the mutual hatred that kept him in your thoughts, his voice echoing far too clearly in your head.

But you hated how sometimes, when he was close, your pulse raced for reasons you couldn’t quite name. How his cologne reminded you of your best days, because he was never far behind you.

Everything considered, everything he's done and said to you, there was nothing that prepared you for this.

A sharp knock echoed through the quiet halls of Potter Manor, startling you from your thoughts. It was late, too late for visitors. The rain outside battered against the windows like an unwelcome intruder. You hesitated for a moment before making your way to the front door, curiosity piqued and wand subtly gripped just in case.

Pulling open the heavy oak door, you were met with a sight that made you question if you'd somehow drifted into a dream or perhaps a nightmare.

"Crouch?" You uttered, eyes widening as you took in his disheveled appearance. His usually pristine hair was plastered to his forehead, rainwater dripping down his face and soaking his clothes. A dark bruise was forming around his left eye, the skin swollen and tender-looking. His nose was red, and whether from the cold or something else, it was clear he'd been through quite an ordeal.

He blinked at you, seeming just as surprised to find himself on your doorstep. "Potter.” He mumbled, but the usual sneer in his voice was absent. Instead, it sounded almost... defeated.

"What are you doing here?" You asked, a mix of concern and confusion lacing your tone.

He glanced away, jaw tightening. "Didn't realize where I was going," He shrugged. "Just walking."

"In the pouring rain? With a black eye?" You raised an eyebrow, skepticism evident.

"Brilliant observation, as always," He shot back, but the retort lacked his typical bite.

You sighed, stepping aside. "Well, don't just stand there. Come inside before you catch pneumonia."

He hesitated, pride warring with practicality, but the chill of the rain seemed to make the decision for him. He stepped over the threshold, dripping water onto the polished wooden floor. You closed the door behind him, the sound of the storm muffled but the tension between you both as palpable as ever.

You closed the door softly, turning to face him with a sigh. Barty stood there, dripping rainwater onto the polished floor, his gaze avoiding yours. Your mother was going to kill you. There was something unnervingly quiet about him, something unspoken weighing heavily in the space between you.

"If my brother sees you, he’s going to lose his mind.” You muttered, already thinking through how to avoid that particular disaster.

Barty snorted, the sound bitter but faint. "Wouldn’t be the first time a Potter tried to hex me."

"Well, I’m not in the mood to hear James shouting at two in the morning, so we’re going to avoid that, alright?" Without waiting for his reply, you grabbed his arm and began pulling him toward the stairs.

He stiffened. "What are you doing?"

"Helping you.” You hissed. "Now, shut up and follow me."

He opened his mouth to argue but thought better of it, instead allowing you to lead him up the staircase. The house creaked softly underfoot, the storm outside muffling your steps as you tiptoed toward your room. You couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder every few seconds, half-expecting James to come barreling out of his room with Sirius in a righteous fury.

When you finally reached your door, you pushed it open and gestured him inside. Barty hesitated, his eyes narrowing. "Your room?"

"Yes, my room.” You replied a bit snappily, exasperated. "Unless you’d prefer I dump you in the hall for James to find?"

He stepped inside without another word, though his posture was tense, his gaze darting around the space as though expecting a trap. You shut the door quietly behind you, casting a silencing charm for good measure.

"Sit.” You ordered, gesturing to the small chair near your desk.

Barty sat reluctantly, his wet clothes clinging to him and dripping onto the carpet. You grimaced. "You’re ruining my mum’s rug."

"Your concern is touching.” He drawled, though the usual venom was missing. He looked utterly miserable, and the bruise on his face seemed darker in the soft glow of the room’s light.

Ignoring his sarcasm, you rummaged through your wardrobe for a spare towel and tossed it at him. "Dry off. I’ll find something for you to wear so you’re not freezing to death."

He caught the towel with a raised brow. "I didn’t realize Potter hospitality came with wardrobe changes."

"Do you ever stop talking?" You shot back, digging through a drawer until you found an old jumper Sirius gave you and a pair of sweatpants James had ‘lost’. "Here. They're my brothers, but it’s better than sitting around in wet clothes."

He muttered something you didn’t quite catch, taking the clothes from you with a begrudging nod. You turned away, giving him privacy as he changed, though you couldn’t help but feel the tension in the air grow thicker with every passing moment.

When he finally spoke again, his voice was quieter. "Why are you doing this?"

You glanced over your shoulder, finding him standing there in the oversized jumper, his wet hair pushed back from his face. Without the rain and the usual sneer to hide behind, he looked... different. Tired. Vulnerable, even.

"You showed up on my doorstep looking like you’d been through hell.” You shrugged. "I couldn’t just leave you out there."

He scoffed lightly, but there was no real bite to it. "You’re a strange one, Potter."

"And you’re still unbearable," You mumbled, crossing your arms. "But here we are."

Silence fell between you, the storm outside filling the quiet. Barty’s eyes flicked to the window, then back to you. "Your brother-”

"Will stay asleep if you keep your voice down.” You interrupted. "I’ll deal with James or Sirius if it comes to that. For now, just... sit down and rest. I’ll grab some ice for your eye."

He didn’t argue, which was strange enough in itself, sinking back into the chair and watching you as you slipped out of the room. When you returned with a cold cloth, he accepted it without a word, holding it gingerly to his swollen eye.

"Thanks.” He mused after a moment, the word sounding foreign in his mouth.

You sat down on the edge of your bed, studying him carefully. "Who hit you?"

"Does it matter?" His tone was dismissive, but you caught the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched.

"It does if you’re going to keep showing up like this.. was it your father, Junior?”

He didn’t respond, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor. You sighed, leaning back on your hands. "You don’t have to tell me. But you’re not going anywhere until you’re steady on your feet, alright?"

"Afraid I’ll collapse in the rain?" He snarked, his usual smirk making a brief appearance.

"I’m afraid you’ll collapse on my doorstep and make me explain to my father why a random boy is here," You shot back.

The room settled into a fragile quiet, the storm outside providing a constant backdrop. Barty sat there, pressing the cold cloth to his eye, his face obscured by shadows and bruises. You leaned forward, elbows resting on your knees, watching him carefully. He was always so quick with a retort, so quick to lash out, and yet now he seemed... hollow, his usual sharp edges dulled by whatever had led him to your doorstep tonight.

"You’re staring.” He muttered, his voice breaking the silence.

"You’re in my room.” You countered, refusing to back down.

He huffed a faint laugh, his lips twitching into something that wasn’t quite a smirk. "Fair enough, Potter. I didn’t exactly plan this, you know."

"You don’t say?" You deadpanned, tilting your head. "Because you seem like the type to storm through rain-soaked nights and show up unannounced."

"Better than staying where I was." The words slipped out before he could stop them, and his face darkened immediately, his jaw clenching as he turned his attention to the cloth in his hands.

You didn’t push him. Not yet. Instead, you sat back, letting the silence stretch just long enough to ease the tension in the air. When he finally looked up, his eyes met yours, and for once, there wasn’t a trace of malice in his gaze. Just exhaustion.

"I don’t understand you, Potter.” He scoffed softly, almost as if to himself. "Why are you doing this?"

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "You keep asking that. Do you really not get it?"

His brow furrowed. "We hate each other. Isn’t that the whole point of us? This... thing?"

"This thing? You mean our rivalry?" You huffed, raising an eyebrow. "It’s not like it’s my whole identity, Crouch. Believe it or not, I’m capable of basic human decency."

"Decency?" He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "You don’t owe me anything, Potter. Especially not that."

"No, I don’t.” You shrugged, leaning forward. "But you showed up here, soaked to the bone and bruised. I’m supposed to hate you, sure, but..." You hesitated, the words catching in your throat before you forced them out. "I don’t hate you right now."

His head snapped up, his eyes narrowing as if he was trying to find the trap in your words. "Why not?"

"Merlin, Crouch.” You muttered, exasperated. "I don’t know. Maybe it’s because you look like a stray Kneazle someone kicked into a gutter."

His lips twitched at that, and for a brief moment, you thought he might smile. Instead, he leaned back in the chair, his expression guarded but less harsh. "Don’t pity me, Potter. That’s worse than hate."

"I’m not pitying you.” You snapped back. "But I am trying to figure out why you’re so determined to make everyone hate you, including me."

"Maybe I deserve it." His voice was so quiet you almost didn’t catch it. His usual bravado cracked further as he glanced away, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of the towel.

You softened at that, the sharp edge of your retort fading before it could form. "Maybe you don’t.” You coaxed gently. "You ever think of that?"

He didn’t answer, but his silence spoke volumes. He looked like he wanted to say something, anything, but couldn’t bring himself to let the words out. Instead, he shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting back to you.

"You’re annoying, you know that?" he finally muttered, shaking his head. "You’re supposed to be this... untouchable, perfect Potter. And yet here you are, making it impossible for me to hate you."

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him. The air between you felt heavier, charged with something unspoken.

"You hate me just fine most of the time.” You rolled your eyes, your voice quieter now.

He laughed, but it was a hollow sound, one that didn’t reach his eyes. "Do I? Or is that just easier than... this?"

"This?" You echoed, your heart pounding as the word lingered in the air between you.

He didn’t answer, but the look in his eyes said enough. Vulnerability mixed with defiance, like he hated himself for letting you see even a glimpse of what lay beneath his carefully crafted exterior. You opened your mouth to say something, anything but the words tangled on your tongue.

"I should go.” He said suddenly, standing up and tossing the towel onto the chair. "This was a mistake."

You were on your feet before you even realized it. "Don’t be an idiot, Crouch. You’re not going anywhere like this."

"I’m fine.” He snapped, but his voice cracked, betraying him.

"You’re not fine.” You shot back, stepping closer. "And you don’t have to be."

His jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "You think you know me, Potter? You don’t. You can’t just... fix me with a towel and some kind words."

"I’m not trying to fix you.” You scoffed but your voice strained, soft but firm. "I’m just trying to remind you that you don’t have to do this alone."

For a moment, it looked like he might argue again, but then his shoulders slumped, and he let out a shaky breath. "Why are you doing this?" He asked one last time, his voice barely above a whisper.

You didn’t have an answer, not really. All you could do was reach out, resting a hand on his arm. "Because I don’t hate you.” You said finally. "And maybe I never did."

His eyes met yours, and for a fleeting moment, the storm outside seemed to quiet.

“I hate you.” He whispered softly. Testing the words on his tongue.

“That's okay.”

“I hate you.” He spoke again, more determined as his brows furrowed at you in frustration.

“I can live with that, Junior.”

“I hate you.” He spoke in his normal tone, before his shoulders fell and his voice dropped to a whisper. “I'm supposed to hate you. Why don't I hate you?”

Your heart thudded painfully at his words. His voice, usually laced with arrogance and venom, was raw now, trembling with something unspoken. It wasn’t a question meant for you. It wasn’t even a question meant for him, not really. It hung in the air, heavy with everything he couldn’t say and everything you couldn’t answer.

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way his words carved into you, settling in places you didn’t want to acknowledge. "Maybe you’re not as good at hating as you think," you whispered softly, your voice barely cutting through the silence.

Barty let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Oh, I’m very good at hating, Potter. Comes naturally to a Crouch. You should know- you’ve been on the receiving end often enough."

"Then what’s stopping you now?" You challenged, stepping closer, the space between you shrinking to something almost unbearable. "What’s so different this time?"

His eyes flickered to yours, narrowing as though he was trying to figure you out, to dissect every word and find its weakness. "You’re insufferable," He muttered, but his voice lacked conviction. "Always so damn persistent."

"Stop deflecting, Crouch." You didn’t give him the satisfaction of backing down, standing your ground even as his walls threatened to rebuild. "Why don’t you hate me?"

"Because I-" He stopped himself, his jaw clenching, the frustration in his expression cracking further. He turned away from you, raking a hand through his damp hair. "I don’t know, alright? I don’t know. I’ve hated you since the first day I met you, but now-" He broke off again, his shoulders tense, his fists clenching at his sides.

"But now what?" You pressed gently, your tone softer this time.

"But now it’s harder.” He admitted finally, his voice so quiet you barely caught the words. He turned back to face you, his eyes meeting yours, and for the first time, he looked completely, heartbreakingly vulnerable. "I don’t know what to do with that."

Your chest tightened, the weight of his admission settling heavily between you. "Maybe you don’t have to do anything.” You took another step closer. "Maybe it’s okay to just... stop fighting it."

His lips twitched, not quite a smirk but not a smile either. "And what exactly am I supposed to do instead?"

"You could start by letting yourself be honest.” You replied. "For once."

Barty studied you for a long moment, his gaze searching yours like he was looking for an answer he didn’t want to find. Then, almost imperceptibly, he took a step closer, the tension between you reaching a breaking point.

"Honest, huh?" He murmured, his voice low. "Alright, Potter. Here’s some honesty for you- I hate the way you do your hair. I hate the way you hold a room. I hate the way you can wipe me across the floor in a duel and still challenge me in a classroom. I hate how you never stop talking- I hate how you make me feel. I hate that you make it impossible to look at you without... without wanting something I’m not supposed to want."

Your breath hitched, his words sending a jolt through you. The room felt smaller, the storm outside nothing compared to the one brewing between you.

"Then stop pretending you hate me.” You slipped your hands into your cardigan pockets, your voice steady despite the way your pulse raced. "Because we both know you don’t."

For a moment, he didn’t move, his expression unreadable. Then, with a frustrated growl, he reached out, his hand cupping your jaw as he pulled you closer. His lips hovered just a breath away from yours, his gaze locked on yours.

"You’re infuriating," he murmured, his voice rough, almost broken. "And I don’t know if I hate you or if I-"

He didn’t finish the thought, but he didn’t need to. The space between you disappeared, the storm outside fading into nothing as his lips crashed against yours. It wasn’t soft or sweet- it was raw and desperate, filled with all the unspoken words and tangled emotions you’d both been avoiding for far too long.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. "I still might hate you.” He mused, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"That’s fine.” Your voice was breathless but steady. "I might still hate you, too."

But the way your hand lingered on his, and the way his grip on you didn’t falter but tightened, told a different story entirely.

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #bartemius crouch junior #bartemius crouch jr #barty crouch jr #barty x reader #barty crouch jr fanfic #barty crouch fanfic #barty crouch x reader #barty crouch jr x you #barty crouch jr x reader #barty jr #barty crouch junior

813 notes · View notes

trulyumai · 9 months ago

Text

soon to be heir

—pairing: emperor Geta / empress! reader

synopsis: word of your pregnancy spread fast. Geta had to act even quicker to ensure your safety.

warnings: talk of violence, short tempers, grabbing. geta tries to be soft.

a/n: this was very heavily requested, enjoy everyone!

The news spread like wildfire.

‘Empress with a soon to be heir!’ For the gods, your own servants whispered about it.

It was true, of course. How could it not be, for Geta would make sure to fill you almost every night. Inching his fingers to touch below and shove the remainder of his seed into your wet mound.

He had planned for this. Dreamed of it.

Of you swole with his child; all his own doing. You didn’t, or hadn’t, planned on becoming a mother this early into his reign. But life was funny that way. Life and a certain ginger haired emperor.

You sat now, swelled next to the man during dinner time. It was unfortunate on the servants really, to abide by all your silly cravings. grapes here, jackfruits there and oh! Don’t forget about the sweet bread. Did I mention the berry spread?

“Wife,” Geta’s voice drew you from your thoughts. A hand, warm and callous placed itself upon your tummy. “Would you be receiving anything else?” He was ever so doting on you now. His eyes even held a bit of love to them from time to time.

“Ahm,” thinking you tried to place the current craving at command. But with a newfound shyness and tinge of embarrassment, you decided against it. “It’s— it’s nothing, dear husband.”

Almost immediately, Geta sensed the lie. And oh, how he hated those.

For gods sake, half of the palace lay in waste for the rumor of there being a rat, so for the audacity you displayed? It was dangerous.

He squinted and with the same arm, draped it across your shoulders, pinning your shorter body to his. “You wouldn’t be lying to me, little wife, would you?” A fire sprung up inside your body. Automatically, fight or flight seemed to be kicking in.

“It’s just a small thing. Not even worth mentioning really,” spit had gathered in your mouth incessantly out of fear. Gulping it down, the emperor leaned in further, until his nose brushed against yours.

If it were any other man, you would have called him pretty.

If it were any other man, you would have danced kisses upon his cheeks, his eyelids.

But it was Geta.

So you just watched, holding back a whimper as he applied more pressure with his hand upon your back.

Wordlessly, you knew what he wanted. He had become so infatuated with your wanton needs lately.

Oh, a bath? He’ll start it.

Those rare flowers by the bay? He’ll send word for them.

What’s that, that man is staring little too long? Beheading it is!

The last one was on his account, Geta had the man seized while you woddled back to the chambers, unaware of the whole predicament until your faithful servants informed you.

Geta had lobbed his head off right in the middle of the throne room. Screaming on about loyalty, fealty. What was his.

Geta’s fingers slowly perched there way below your chin, mulling you out of the violent place you put yourself in.

“Well?” The man wasn’t known for his patience, and you were surprised he lasted this long already.

“It’s… honey bread.” The emperor had to stifle his laughter. To hear and worry over such a dumbfounded thing.

“Honey bread.” He repeated, already raising his palm to signal for the chef.

“It shall be done, my wife.”

“It’s not necessary—

“It shall be done.” That was the end of it, you supposed.

Slowly, cautiously you sat up, legs already shaking with the added pressure.

Geta’s hands lay tensed and ready, just in case he needed to grab or hold you.

Unfortunately for him, you noticed this. Wanting to grant the man his sought out intention of protection, you reached out and cradled his hand in your own.

“Walk me back to our room?” And with a look as pathetic as that, how could the man say no.

He stood with you, and automatically, the servants in the room bowed their heads.

Fearful to take a glimpse of you and it be mistaken for something else.

Fearful to lay eyes upon the gruesome emperor with the short temper.

Now, with his big palm splayed out on your lower back, you began your stroll. Leaning into his soft robes your eyes shut. Geta had no problem taking the lead, holding onto your body with desperation and dare he say, infatuation.

#fluff #gladiator ii #gladiator x reader #gladiator #gladiator 2 #geta x you #emperor geta x you #emperor geta x reader #geta x reader #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn #joe quinn #movie #fanfiction #trying to be soft

2K notes · View notes

orimuraa · 2 months ago

Text

── ⋆⋅ ❀ Give me your heart and I'll give you mine - OT7 𝜗𝜚 do you think you could love me - yung kai

꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆enhypen falling in love with a fan ⨾

۶ৎ idol!enhypen x fem engene!reader┆fluff┆delulu is the solulu, kissing, petnames, secret relationships┆wc 757

⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: SIGHHH when will nishimura riki notice me T^T

꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱

𝑳𝒆𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈 - 이희승

"hee..we shouldn't be doing this..i can get you in so much trouble if we're caught," you mumble hesitantly, pulling back slightly from heeseung's embrace. "angel, you're worth ruining my career for. i would go to the moon and back just to show you i'm with you till the end," heeseung sighs against your lips. "let them find out about us. let them say their words. none of that can tear me away from you. nothing." he says, sealing his words with a kiss to your lips and at that moment you think, maybe it'll be okay.

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 - 박종성

you weren't exactly sure what it was that drew park jongseong to you. maybe it was the way your eyes sparkled when you talked to him, not even the slightest bit nervous to be meeting your ultimate bias. or maybe, it was the way just didn't throw yourself immediately at him and instead, you asked how he was and what he had been up to lately. either way, it was enough to influence the scene that was unfolding now. he was placing delicate kisses onto your lips, celebrating your 1 year anniversary and that's the way things were, no room for complaints.

𝑺𝒊𝒎 𝑱𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒖𝒏 - 심재윤

sim jaeyun had a problem. and that problem, was you. you were just too goddamn pretty and something so alluring about you drew him in further. he was so sure of getting in trouble with his management but if it meant that he could have you in his arms, it would be worth it all. you were just an engene, one of millions, yet he just couldn't take his eyes off of you. he knew right away that he needed to get to you somehow and if that meant putting his career in danger, he would do it just so he could maybe meet the love of his life.

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏 - 박성훈

"hoon, are you sure that this is a good idea? if word gets out that you're seeing me, an ordinary engene, your whole life as an idol is practically thrown out the window," you sigh, shifting to look at sunghoon. you were both lying down and he had his arms around you protectively. "darling, i don't care what they have to say about me. the only thing that matters to me is that i can come home to you and lay in your arms, just like this." sunghoon answers. and it's the truth. sunghoon would go as far as ruining his dream career just to be able to have you by his side, because at the end of the day, you're the thing he loves most.

𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒐 - 김선우

sunoo always thought his job as an idol would restrict his ability to find the love of his life. but clearly, that was wrong, and you were proof. sunoo saw you in the crowd of people in front of the stage and you looked so bright and happy. the warm smile you had on your face as you stared at him made his heart flutter in the slightest bit, making sunoo believe, once again, in love at first sight. the moment your eyes locked with his, you could tell that there was something more than just eye contact. there was something more...something exciting and new...and maybe something sunoo was willing to risk it all for.

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒘𝒐𝒏 - 양정원

"won, what if i get you in trouble? you're the leader and it gives you more pressure to abide to the rules! i don't want you to put your career at risk just for me," you say, your lips turning into a small frown just thinking about all the hate that jungwon would receive if your relationship was ever exposed. "let them do what they can, because in the end, they can't ever take me away from you. you're my muse, my motivation, my happiness and if they take that away? that's just their loss." he replies, kissing you on the cheek. "don't stress about it, we have nothing to worry about."

𝑵𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒊 - 西村力

you were just an engene. a typical engene with much admiration for the seven members of enhypen. but you were also an engene that snuck her way into the very own heart of enhypen's maknae. ni-ki cherished you and from the way he held you, deep down, he was scared to lose you. you were his motivation and the sole reason he kept pushing himself. he cherish the late nights he would come home and be able to kiss you and cuddle you. and there was no way he could live without you. you were his everything.

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries, @k-films, @k-nets

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ 𝐉𝐢𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy, @hyukabean, @annybah, @ijustwannareadstuff20, @chaeneu, @17ericas, @firstclassjaylee, @riribelle, @right-person-wrong-time, @cheruphic, @woniefication

483 notes · View notes

januaryembrs · 11 months ago

Note

Any fluffy sweet Drabble about the moon boys 🫡

SWEET MORNINGS | Marc Spector x reader

description: the boys wake up to their girlfriend making breakfast, too bad she has no clue which boy is fronting that morning

length: 1.1k

warnings: representation of DID, Marc's slight self loathing (it's Marc idk what to say). Writer has never experienced DID so I am going off the show

He woke up peacefully, which had once been a fleeting dream in itself for a man like him. He’d spent years jumping at the smallest sounds, flinching at voices and footsteps, ready to be up and out of bed within a moment’s notice. Yet, when his eyes slowly blinked out of the reverie of sleep, he heard her humming along to the radio, already half way through the song, heard her socks sliding against the kitchen floor as she whirled around the stove, and the smell of pancakes and coffee hit him with full force.

His lips drew into a smile before he even knew it, and he was drawing the covers back, her side of the bed not entirely freezing which told him she’d been up about twenty minutes. Marc grabbed his shirt off the floor, the same one Steven used to sprinkle with sand when he had no idea about their coexistence, only two years later, it was scrubbed clean, even with a pretty, knit rug you’d bought from your apartment when you moved in.

Tugging it over his head, he padded into the living room, where he could already see your form where you danced around the kitchen, entirely unaware of his approach. He’d been trying to teach you self defence, said you needed to learn to have a sixth sense when it came to people on your tail, because he had a tendency to worry about you more than Steven and Jake did. But maybe it was the fact he had naturally light footsteps, or maybe it was the fact you knew in the comfort of your home he would always be there to protect you, either way your guard was entirely down by the time he swooped behind you, grabbing you in a warm, soft hug, pressing kisses down the side of your bare neck and onto your shoulder.

“Morning,” His voice was muddied with sleep, and he cleared his throat, hoping to take some of the husk out of it despite the fact you whirled around to look at him with something that told him just what you thought of his rumbling voice.

“Morning, honey,” You said, pressing a small kiss to his lips, your hand still on the frying pan that he now realised had been filled with mini-chocolate pancakes, the batter sizzling and cracking in the oil, “You hungry?”

Marc wasn’t really listening as he gave a ‘mhm’, too busy burying his nose in the crook of your neck and jaw, kissing lazily there as he tightened his grip on your waist.

His gaze fell on the counter after a moment, the blueberry porridge Steven went crazy for already dished up in the little purple bowl you’d painted for him for their birthday, whirled of steam coming off the breakfast that was slowly turning a cornflour colour with the chopped fruit swirling in the centre.

“Sorry, baby, I think Steven’s still sleeping, I can try ask him-” He started as you used a spatula to quickly flip the pancakes, their underside a golden brown that made his mouth water.

“Oh, don’t worry. I wasn’t sure who was joining me for breakfast, or if all of you wanted something, so I made a bit of everything,” You said, smiling at him as you turned the gas down and spun in his arms, batting your eyes at him with an innocent smile, “Chocolate pancakes for you, blueberry oatmeal for Steven and a black coffee for Jake since I know you guys got mad last time we had bacon together,”

“What a woman,” Jake’s voice was a growl of appreciation that Marc couldn’t help but agree with, and he was quick to lean in to steal a handful of long kisses, grabbing the soft plush of your hips with feather light fingers and pulling you towards him, “Ay, Romeo, your pancakes are burning.”

You sprung away from him like you’d heard the alter yourself, your eyes wide in surprise, “Your pancakes are burning!”

He heard Jake chuckle and a smile made it’s way onto his face as you fretted over whether the brown was where the chocolate had melted or if the mix had singed, but Marc thought he might just eat anything you gave him because you poured so much love and affection into it he couldn't help but think it tasted divine.

“Marc, I’m sorry, I know we have the no hogging the body rule and I got to have her all last night, but please let me have just a few bites- o-or atleast ask her to save it for me, that stuff smells delicious,” Steven seemed to be wide awake and kicking at the sight of food, and Marc sighed, reaching out with one hand to swoop your hair off your neck as he kissed the very top of your spine.

“Steven asks if we could save him the blueberry oatmeal since it’s my turn to spend time with you,” He said gently, and he feels you smile before he sees it, the way your cheeks crinkle and pull tightly.

“Of course I can, baby, I’ll put it in the fridge,” You said, despite the fact the man was inside the body, scooping the little circular goods onto two plates for both of you. Turning to set the plates on the table, Marc grabbed two glasses out of the cabinet, opening the fridge door with a rattle as the magnets clasped pictures of the two of you to the cooler.

“Orange or apple juice?” He asked, pulling the former out of the side drawer for himself.

“Orange, please,” You replied politely, grabbing some cutlery out and laying it beside his plate.

The two of you sat down finally, Marc sliding the filled glass over to your half of the dinner table and allowing himself to just watch as you picked up your knife and fork, digging into the chocolatey breakfast before it went cold.

He never deserved any of this, the light touches and the breakfasts and the devotion and the way you put him on a pedestal. But sitting in the slow hum of the radio, the most obscure top hundreds playlist he thinks you could have chosen, he bit into his pancake, his tongue exploding with sugary yumminess, as you told him the weird dream you’d had about him becoming some kind of half horse, centaur type man and how you wondered if he would wear jeans on the front legs, the back legs, or if you would have to have custom, four legged bottoms made for him.

The two of you laughed, because he didn’t quite understand what had gotten him so lucky as to end up with you. He could get used to all this.

#marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockely x reader #moonknight x reader #oscar isaac x reader

2K notes · View notes

hcneymooners · 4 months ago

Text

⋆ woman of my dreams, don't betray me.

wife!ambessa x wife!reader. men & minors dni.

synopsis: you and ambessa are wives, and your parents have come to visit the two of you. everything will be fine, or would've been if you mother hadn't brought up her desire for grandchildren.

cw: angst, angst with a happy ending, wife!ambessa, wife!reader, age difference, older woman/younger woman, sfw but suggestive content, emotional hurt/comfort, you're a little bit of a crybaby, anxiety attacks, discussions of children and pregnancy.

notes: i hate this so much, but ce la vie hmm? this is a drabble.

“Sweet girl, don't bite your nails. You'll be so upset later.”

“You'll just give me the money to get them done,” you mutter.

Still, your hands lower from your mouth to tremble yet again over the dinner you've painstakingly made.

Ambessa moves behind you, her presence steady and warm against your back. Her hands settle on your shoulders, thumbs working small circles into the knots that have been building there all day. You lean into her touch despite yourself, despite the anxiety that makes you want to vibrate out of your skin.

“Will this occur before or after you protest against me giving you too much?”

A laugh slips out of you before you can stop it, and you turn to slide your arms around her neck. You take in the strong line of her jaw, the crooked set of her lips with it’s thin stripe of golden jewlery in the middle. You thumb at it, face flushing slightly as she nips at the tip of your finger.

“My nails have yet to cost five hundred dollars, Bessa.”

“I include the tip.”

“I must be incredibly generous.”

“You are,” she hums, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Besides, you never think of tax.”

“Tax?” You say in disbelief. “What tax would they be adding that costs that much? Honestly, Bessa.”

“You never know,” she says with a slow smile. “They could swindle you very easily. You have such a trusting nature.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you tell her, cupping her face.

"Talk to me," she says, and her voice carries that gentle authority that first drew you to her. You turn away, your attempts at misleading her thwarted. "Is it your mother again?”

You stiffen under her hands. "Among other things." The roast in front of you blurs slightly.

You can picture her expression without turning around - that careful neutrality she wears when she's processing something that angers her. It's the same look she gets in meetings when someone has said something particularly stupid.

"And what did you say to her?"

"Nothing. I deleted it. I’ve never been any good at convincing her to leave me alone." You pull away from her hands to adjust a perfectly arranged plate for the third time. "It's easier than explaining. Than having the same argument over and over about how I'll change my mind, how I just haven't met the right person yet." You pause, throat tight. "As if you're not..."

"As if I'm not what?" There's an edge to her voice now, not angry but intent. When you don't answer, she gently turns you to face her. "Look at me, little dove."

You do, though it hurts. She's beautiful in the warm kitchen light, silver hair gleaming, dark eyes fixed on yours with an intensity that still makes your heart skip even after all this time. You see the question in them and can't bear to answer it.

"The table still needs-"

"The table is perfect. You're being avoidant."

A laugh bubbles up, slightly hysterical. "Isn't that what I do best?"

"No." Her hand cups your cheek. You can smell her: blonde wood, vetiver, pink pepper, dry vanilla. "What you do best is love fiercely and completely. And we agreed that that meant being honest with one another.”

She titls your head up, presses a thumb against your pulse. The action makes you almost confess the words that crowd your throat, threatening to spill out:

I'm terrified you'll realize I can't give you the family you deserve. That one day you'll look at me and see all the things I'm not, all the things I can't be. That you'll regret choosing someone so much younger, so much less certain of their place in the world. That my mother is right and I'm being selfish, denying you something fundamental.

But before you can voice any of it, the doorbell rings. Your whole body goes rigid. Your hands come to your sides and you’re back to shaking, neck burning with sudden stress.

“I’ll get the door,” you say.

Your voice is rasping, as if you’ve swallowed down endless snakes of smoke.

‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅

Dinner is excruciating. Your mother talks about your cousin's new baby, about how wonderful motherhood looks on her, about how she's "simply glowing." You push food around your plate and feel Ambessa's concerned glances, even as she masterfully deflects conversation toward politics, toward her work, toward anything else.

But with each deflection, you can feel her growing more tense beside you - the way she sets her wine glass down with just a fraction more force, how her knife scrapes against the china with military precision.

"But really," your mother says, wine glass tilting dangerously in her hand, "I just don't understand why you two haven't started trying yet. Ambessa, dear, you must want more children? And you're not getting any younger-"

The fork clatters from your hand. "Mother."

You can feel your body pulsing with that sick warmth that comes with the rush of tears. You’re boring a hole through the dining room table with your gaze, eyes growing large and wet. If you were a lamb, you’d be bleating except your mother is the wolf so who will be the one to save you?

Beside you, Ambessa goes perfectly, terrifyingly still. The kind of stillness that precedes a storm, that makes the hair on the back of your neck rise. You can see her hand flat against the table, the metal of her rings catching the light, and you know without looking that her face has taken on that marble-smooth expression that makes junior officers quake in their boots.

"I'm only giving you something to think about, my love. I’ve been you before. You think you have so much time, you know? It’s just—you've always been so good with kids, sweetheart. Remember how you used to babysit for the Hendersons? And Ambessa's children turned out so well-"

"Stop." Your voice comes out strangled. "Please."

Ambessa's hand sneaks under the table to grasp your thigh. The touch is slightly grounding but you can feel the tremor in her fingers - not from fear, but from restraint. You know she wants you to look at her, but then you'll really begin to lose it.

You'll spill over, right into her lap, because she always could unlatch your body in ways you thought were only for other people.

You catch the slight movement of her jaw, the way she swallows whatever cutting remark she wants to make. Because this is your mother, and Ambessa—for all her power, all her authority, because of the love—is letting you handle this your way. But the tension in her body screams of fury, of a woman forced to watch her beloved take wounds she can't deflect.

"I don't see why you're being so sensitive about this. It's a natural progression-"

"Natural?" You're standing now, though you don't remember deciding to. "Natural is me not wanting to vomit every time someone mentions me being pregnant. Natural is not having a panic attack every time you send me another fertility clinic link or baby clothes or-" Your voice breaks. "I can't. I can't do this."

You flee, ignoring your mother's startled "Well!" and your father's awkward attempt to change the subject. You're halfway up the stairs before the tears start properly, and by the time you reach your bedroom, you can barely see. The door locks behind you with a satisfying click.

You stumble to the vanity, clutch blindingly at your hair to yank out the pins. You feel out of control, your hands sliding up your neck and over your face.

A sob slips out despite you clutching your fingers over your mouth, and you press at your stomach until you feel the urge to dispel the mixture of your decayed dinner and acid that sits within it.

The bed. You need to be under the bed. It's childish and ridiculous but it's where you used to hide when things got too much, and right now everything is too much. You curl up in the darkness there, pressed against the wall, and try to remember how to breathe.

Time passes. You hear murmured voices downstairs, the front door opening and closing. Footsteps on the stairs - Ambessa's, you'd know them anywhere.

"Little dove?" A gentle knock. "Let me in?"

"It's unlocked," you manage, voice thick.

The door opens. A pause.

"Are you under the bed?"

"...yeah."

Another pause. Then, to your utter astonishment, you hear grunting and turn to find Ambessa - your tall, dignified, warrior-queen wife - attempting to squeeze herself under the bed frame.

"What are you doing?" you ask, hiccuping between tears and startled laughter.

"Coming to get you," she says, voice strained as she wriggles forward. "Though I'm beginning to think this bed was not built for someone of my size."

"You're going to get stuck."

"Then we'll be stuck together." She finally manages to get next to you, though she has to lie completely flat to fit. "Hello, sweet girl."

A rush of gratitude floods you and you press forward, drawing her into a soft kiss. She deepens it, sliding a large hand underneath your thigh and holding you to her. You part with a soft, slick noise.

“You’re always meeting me where I am, even when you don’t understand,” you tell her. “Literally.”

You gesture weakly at the whole predicament. The absurdity of it - Ambessa Medarda, covered in dust bunnies, cramped under a bed - breaks something in you.

"I have this terrible secret inside me, and it’s that I feel so—so sick when I think about being a mother," you blurt out. The words slide out of you, like maggots from a rotting body. "Not—not your children, I love them, but being one myself. Having them. I can't. I won't. And I know you must want- but I can't, I just can't, please don't leave me.” You begin to sob again. “Please, Bessa. Please don’t leave me. Please. Plea-”

"Shh." She pulls you closer, awkward in the confined space but no less tender for it. You tuck your head into her neck as she soothes you. "Shh, my love. I'm not going anywhere."

"But-"

"I have two children," she says firmly. "Two wonderful, grown children who I love dearly. I have never once thought about having more. What I want - all I want - is you. Happy. Whole. Exactly as you are."

You're crying again, but differently now. "Really?"

"Really." She strokes your hair, rocking you as best she can in the tight space. "Though I would very much like to have this conversation somewhere with fewer dust bunnies."

You laugh wetly into her shirt. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I would crawl under a thousand beds for you. Even into a grave." She kisses your forehead. "But perhaps we could move on top of this one? My back is not what it used to be."

"You’re really not getting any younger," you quip, the onslaught of relief making you giddy.

"Watch it, little dove." But she's smiling - you can hear it in her voice. "Now come out before we really do get stuck."

“What if we stayed here forever,” you whisper, “and you never let me go?”

She releases you, then shimmies out from the crawl space. Gently, she curls a hand around your ankle and pulls you out with a sharp yank. You gasp as you emerge from your hiding space, hair spilling around you and your dress rucked up just enough to display your panties.

Ambessa leans over, drags the dress further up until she can kiss the swell of your breasts. She looks up you, face ever-calculating.

“I will never release you,” she finally says.

It should scare you, the clear promise, but it doesn’t. You lead her hand to your throat, just to hold it there, and smile instead.

#ambessa medarda #ambessa x you #ambessa x y/n #ambessa x reader #ambessa arcane #ambessa league of legends #ambessa the chosen of the wolf #female!reader #fem!reader #arcane fanfic #arcane x you #arcane x reader #wlw #lesbian #sapphic #mine ; 🐎.

625 notes · View notes

soapcloth · 5 months ago

Text

-> Gallery curator!reader x bitter artist!Soap

CW: 18+ MDNI, oral in a truck, pushy soap, touchy soap

Oneshot - 1.2k words - dividers -> @/cafekitsune

Johnny’s a bit disgruntled about not getting into a gallery show. There’s an easy way to remedy that.

“No.” You spoke curtly, gaze steady on the man across the table from you sporting a gnarled scar from his temple that drew all the way back behind his ear. “I’m really sorry Mr. MacTavish, there’s nothing I can do to get you in the show coming up-“

“Johnny.” He interrupted.

“P-pardon?” You asked

“None of tha’ Mr. MacTavish Bull. Been pissing me off since our first appointment.” He grumbled, hand lifting to rub at this neck; staying there to massage and pick at his skin as he tried a different angle. His brows drew upwards and he shot you sad eyes. “Ah’ve been dreaming of this show, truly.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. You were a high end gallery curator, not customer support. “Look, I’m sorry Mr-“ You were cut down by a sharp glare. “-Johnny.” You sighed. “I’m sorry, Johnny, I don’t have the final say in this, I’m only a small part of the process.” Your fingers fumbled with the espresso you had ordered. “Between us? Your work’s stunning, but you just don’t have enough of it and it didn’t quite fit this show’s theme. If you just work on growing your portfolio, I’m sure you’ll be a perfect candidate for one in the future and-“

“Can ye’ guarantee that?” He bit.

Your eye twitched. “I’m trying to help you here, Johnny.” You watched his eyes glaze over.

“Fine, wanted to get in the damn show just te’ fuck ye’ anyways.” You choked loudly, looking around to find some other cafe patrons sparing glances your way as he leaned back into his seat with an unfocused grin, the poor chair straining audibly under his bulk. “Been thinking about biting into yer’ plump ass since our first appointment. Dinnae give a fuck about the show.” He was lying to your face; partially at least, you could tell, and he could tell that you could tell.

His nose bridge twitched in the phantom of a flexing snarl as his hand ambled upwards to fuss with the deep ridges of his healed-over scar before flying down to encase your own. His hands were clammy with his skin’s residue and when you maneuvered to recoil, he turned your palm over in his; an excuse to hold on. “Fuck, ah’m messing this up royally, aren’t I?”

“There’s nothing to mess up, Mr. MacTavish.”

His eyes narrowed almost indiscernibly before closing. “Och- ah’ve messed up but ye’ve already broken my heart with the whole gallery thing, Dinnae stomp on it with this.” He swallowed. “One date?” He asked as if he hadn’t just been talking about wanting to fuck you.

You grimaced, were you ovulating? “No gallery talk?”

“None. Swear on it.” He promised, eyes dilated slightly.

He was your type if you really squinted, and clearly you were his. “Fine, you have my cell-“

He practically pulled you up, a blinding smile on his lips. “Fuck, yer’ so gorgeous, ye’ got here in a cab, right? Let me take ye’ back to the gallery.” You shot a warning glare. “Not for me, Bonnie, Oath.” His palm made contact with the base of your spine, blunt fingers dipping under your shirt hem and rubbing at the new found flesh idly. “Ye’ bring a coat, Bonnie? Cold as sin out there.”

You nodded, reaching for the garment. He was faster though- long, stupidly thick arm reaching behind you to grab the coat. “Arms out.” Johnny smiled, eager to get out of the coffee shop. You blushed, embarrassed with a sharp look on your face directed at the floor. You could do it yourself, and yet, you obliged, letting him slip the sleeves on.

Outside, you shivered in the biting cold, breath rising in a cloud before you. Johnny gripped your arms and rubbed. “Ach- fucking freezing out, let’s get ye warmed up in my truck. Had a friend put heated seats in cheap.” He boasted, guiding you into a parking garage while remaining glued to your side. He stuck to you even as you ascended a level despite your best efforts to slow down and let him go first.

His truck was exactly what you had pictured for a guy like him. Economic but well-loved; jewel tone teal with a few nicks here and there. Opening the door for you, he helped you in with a splayed palm firmly groping at your ass. “Ye’ want the heated seat on? It’s aftermarket so it’s a bit tough to figure out.” You nodded, rubbing your hands together to warm them up.

With one hand on your thigh, he reached the other over your lap to fiddle with the heat. “There.” He grinned, newly free hand patting your other thigh and staying put. “Bonnie.” He hummed.

You nodded.

His eyes flicked downwards, throat bobbing. “Can ah’ve a taste?” Your eyes widened. “Yer cunt.” He tacked on, in case you weren’t already more than aware. “Want ‘er so bad, been having wicked thoughts about this all morning.”

You let out the breath you had held in then nodded, cheeks flushed.

He wasted no time going for your buttons and yanking your underwear down literally just far enough to slot his jaw between your legs. Hot breath fanned your cunt with a shaky exhale before he was diving in. You wondered how he could breathe with his face pushed so far into your pussy- then again maybe he wasn’t with how he was so preoccupied mashing his mouth against it.

His nose nudged past your clit as his broad tongue laved unendingly across your folds sloppily, paying the designated attention to the bud before he zeroed back in on your hole. “Mmph-” he breathed out after sometime, hot air creating a small pocket before he practically inhaled it back in.

You weren’t even cognizant of the fact that your hands were firmly woven into his overgrown Mohawk until you were using it to hold him down against you as you came on his jaw. The sounds Johnny made had let you know he was grateful, happily continuing to lap at your slick like a starved animal. You swear he whined when you pulled his head back up too. Like a starved animal.

His pupils were blown and he was practically vibrating as he wiped at his jaw before proceeding to lick at his hand; all while making eye contact as you buttoned up your jeans, thighs clenched together. He pulled the hem of his shirt up to wipe at his mouth before straightening up and walking to the driver’s side door.

He was oblivious to your bashful silence as he chatted your ear off over the old, staticky radio for the entire ride back to your workplace. “-Ye’ll have to come by my studio space sometime, help me in the right direction with my work.” He winked, one hand squeezing your thigh as he pulled into the gallery parking lot. His old truck stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the nice cars as he put the car in park. “Stay warm fer’ me, bonnie.” He beamed, patting your thigh before you hopped out, feeling uncomfortably sticky. You nodded and scurried off to the front door of the gallery, colleagues sending you curious glances. For a curator commonly perceived as high maintenance around the gallery, you looked awfully unkempt.

you froze, turning around in horror upon hearing Johnny lay on the horn to get your attention.

“Call ye’ tonight.” He hollered with a shit eating grin.

#(fromsoft font) pussy eaten #john soap mactavish #soap #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #x reader #cloth writes

1K notes · View notes

lupinqs · 4 months ago

Text

LOVE ACTUALLY ━━ wnba!paige bueckers x reader

𝜗𝜚 ━ summary: you and paige spend christmas together with your families.

𝜗𝜚 ━ word count: 5.5K

𝜗𝜚 ━ warnings: brief allusions to sex but really just pure fluff

𝜗𝜚 ━ links: my masterlist

𝜗𝜚 ━ author’s note: i wrote this when i was drunk out of my mind and i did not proofread so take that as you will. anyways merry christmas!

IT’S CHRISTMAS MORNING in Connecticut, the soft hush of snow outside only adding to the cozy warmth inside your childhood home. You and Paige flew in a couple days ago, grateful to spend the holiday surrounded by both of your families. Paige’s dad and her little brother, Drew, made the trip from Maryland, too, making it all the more homier.

The last year and a half has been a whirlwind. Moving across the country to Dallas was one of the hardest decisions you’ve ever made—graduating from UConn and then immediately leaving behind your friends, family, and everything familiar to follow Paige as she chased her WNBA dreams. At the time, you weren’t sure if it was the right choice. But now, as you think about the life you’ve built together, you know it was worth every bit of uncertainty. You’ve got a great job, a cozy little apartment in Dalls, and Paige has already had two incredible seasons in the W. She’s thriving, and so are you, and being here now, with your families under one roof, feels like the perfect reminder of how far you’ve both come.

The two of you are curled up in your childhood bedroom, the soft hints of morning light glinting against the light pink walls. Paige’s bare skin is against yours, her arm draped possessively over your waist, her hand resting firmly on your hip. Your cheek is pressed against her shoulder, and you can feel her slow, steady breaths as they rise and fall beneath you. Everything about this moment feels so peaceful, so perfect, that you can’t help but linger in it.

Paige shifts slightly beneath you, and her fingers tighten their hold, pulling you closer. You tilt your head up to find her already looking down at you, blue eyes still heavy with sleep but soft with that familiar adoration that always makes your chest tighten. Her lips curve into a small, sleepy smile.

“Merry Christmas,” she murmurs, her voice husky and warm, roughened by sleep in a way that sends a shiver through you.

You smile back at her, your lips brushing the skin of her shoulder as you reply, “Merry Christmas.”

She leans down to kiss you, and it’s slow and unhurried, a perfect reflection of the way the two of you are easing into the morning. Her lips are soft against yours, her hand moving from your hip to your ass, squeezing gently as she deepens the kiss. Your body reacts instinctively, shifting closer, and Paige takes the opportunity to guide you over her, her hands steady on your waist as she pulls you to straddle her.

Her hands roam lazily over you, mapping the familiar terrain of your body as if she’s memorizing it all over again. The feel of her palms on your bare skin sends warmth pooling in your stomach, and your breath bitches when her fingers trail power, brushing against your inner thigh.

It’s enough to send your mind flashing back to last night, when Paige had you biting into your pillow to keep quiet, fucking you in a way that was far from appropriate with both of your families in the house, in the rooms just next door. It was reckless, but neither of you cared much in the moment. And judging by the way her fingers swipe teasingly at your clit now, she’s not feeling particularly concerned this morning, either.

A gasp escapes your lips, and Paige smiles against your mouth, her tongue sweeping in to claim yours in a kiss that’s deeper and more demanding. Just as her fingers begin to circle your clit lightly, the door knob rattles sharply, accompanied by Drew’s unmistakable voice.

“Why is the door locked? Wake up! We’re opening presents!”

The two of you freeze, and then Paige groans in frustration, pulling away reluctantly. She tilts her head back against the pillows, her hand coming up to drag across her face as she yells back, “We’re comin’! Go downstairs, we’ll be down in a sec!”

There’s a pause, then the sound of Drew retreating down the hall. Paige drops her head back to look at you, her expression equal parts annoyed and amused. “Always interrupting,” she mutters, leaning in to steal another slow, languid kiss.

You smile against her lips, your hand coming up to brush her hair back from her face. “We gotta get up,” you say softly, though you make no effort to move just yet.

She sighs, her arms wrapping around you to pull you closer for a moment longer. “Yeah, yeah,” she mumbles, her lips brushing the corner of your mouth.

Eventually, the two of you untangle yourselves, reluctantly leaving the warmth of the bed to retrieve the matching Christmas pajamas Paige insisted on buying. Hers are just slightly too big, the waistband of the red plaid pants hanging low on her hips as she pulls on the soft cotton shirt. She tosses you your pair, watching with a lazy grin as you shimmy into them.

By the time you’re both dressed, Paige wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close for one last kiss before heading downstairs. When you get down there, the smell of fresh coffee and the sound of Christmas music fills the air. Your families are gathered around the tree, Bob offering you both a warm smile, your parents calling you cheerful “Merry Christmases” from the couch.

Drew has taken his role as gift sorter very seriously, picking up each package, reading the tags with exaggerated importance, and then delivering them to their respective piles like he’s Santa himself. You and Paige sit side by side on the floor, leaning into each other, your thighs pressing together as you watch. Her hand rests on top of yours, brushing her thumb over your knuckles, and it makes your heart swell.

Your older brother lounges beside you, watching Drew in amusement. His grin slowly shifts into something cheeky, though, as his gaze lands on you and Paige. He leans closer, lowering his voice. “Late night?” he asks, eyes glinting with mischief as they flick to the faint circles under your eyes.

Your cheeks flame instantly, and you seat at him, whispering sharply, “Shut up!”

He laughs, lea no no away just in time to avoid your second hit. “Hey, just sayin’,” he teases, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “You both look a little… tired.”

Paige smirks beside you, clearly trying not to laugh, but you nudge her with your elbow, giving her a pointed look. She quickly schools her expression, though the amusement in her eyes is impossible to miss.

Your head snaps toward the couch, where your parents and Bob are chatting, thankfully oblivious to the exchange. You exhale in relief, shooting your brother a glare that promises retribution later.

Eventually, Drew claps his hands together dramatically. “Done!” he declares, plopping down onto the floor next to his own gut pile.

Your mom beams. “Stockings first!” she says, already reaching for her phone to start taking pictures.

Everyone does as she says, reaching for their stockings. You sift through yours, pulling out chocolates, fuzzy socks, and a cute little keychain your mom must have picked out. Paige grins as she pulls out a gift card, showing it to you like it’s a trophy. Drew’s stocking is filled with candy, which he immediately starts eating, and your dad jokes about how he gets socks every year without fail.

Your mom takes picture after picture and you roll your eyes in amusement as she pointedly tells you to smile wider for the photos.

Once the stockings are emptied, it’s time for the real gifts. The family settles into a rhythm, taking turns opening gifts. You and your brother exchange gag gifts that leave you both laughing, shaking your heads. When it’s Drew’s turn, you can’t help but feel smug as he opens your gift—a limited-edition jersey—and immediately declares it his favorite, much to Paige’s offense. She pouts dramatically, muttering, “I tried so hard,” which only makes you grin wider at her.

Her moment of redemption comes soon enough, though. Paige’s gift to your mom—one of those electronic picture frames that flashes different photos of your family—earns a gasp of delight. Your mom’s eyes shine as she hugs it to her chest, turning to Paige with a heartfelt, “Oh my gosh, Paige, sweetie!” She leans down to kiss Paige’s head, and you catch the faint blush on Paige’s cheeks. Your heart swells as you watch her fit so seamlessly into your family.

When Paige opens your first gift to her, you watch nervously as she opens the shoes she’s been eyeing for weeks. “Babe,” she groans, clearly thrilled but half-scolding you for indulging her obsession. You roll your eyes, telling her she deserves them, even if they barely have room in your already shoe-filled apartment.

Her second present from you is a new pair of Airpods, which were more of a last minute thing since she lost her pair on the flight here. She thanks you, knowing she needed them.

The last gift is the one you were just excited to give: a framed collection of her college jersey behind a collage of photos from her UConn career, the biggest one being of her holding up the natty trophy. There’s a handwritten note in the back of it, telling you how proud you are of her. You can’t take all the credit for it, though, as Nika helped you with a lot of it when she was visiting you and Paige in Dallas a few weeks ago. Paige’s eyes mist over as she stares at it, and she leans over to press a firm kiss to your temple, whispering how much she loves you in your ear.

Paige’s gifts to you are just as thoughtful. She starts with handing you a small box. You open it and gasp—they’re a pair of diamond earrings—actually, the pair of diamond earrings—you’d fawned over at some event you attended with Paige, where there had been a ton of different jewelry displays. “Shit,” you murmur, fingers ghosting over the diamonds. You’d seen the price tag on it, you know how expensive they were. You lean your head on Paige’s shoulder, saying, “Thank you, P.”

She grins before handing you your next one—a weekend getaway to a cabin in the Pacific Northwest. You’ve talked about wanting to go so many times, jokingly telling her you want to live out your Twilight dreams, and now here you are.

“Paige,” you whisper, staring at the printout of the reservation.

“You’ve been stressed,” she says simply, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You deserve this.”

The room falls quiet as you hug Paige tightly, everyone sifting through their opened gifts, satisfied. You think all the gifs have been opened, so you settle back, too, but then Paige’s voice cuts through the chatter. “Wait,” she says, her smile lighting up her face. “You’ve got one more.”

You narrow your eyes at her, exasperated. “Paige,” you groan, knowing she’s already gone overboard.

“Chill,” she laughs, waving off your protest. She gestures toward your brother. “Come help me.”

Confused, you watch as your brother jumps up eagerly, everyone else around the room exchanging knowing, excited smiles. You start to stand, too, but Paige shakes her head, her grin widening. “Stay here,” she tells you. “Be patient, babe.”

You sit back down, bewildered, as Paige and your brother disappear into the basement. Everyone else seems to be in on whatever this is, and you try to piece together the surprise, but you’re left empty-handed.

A few minutes pass before your brother and Paige finally emerge back from the basement. You immediately notice Cooper, your family’s golden retriever, darting ahead of them. His nails click against the hardwood floor as he bursts into the living room, tail wagging so hard it looks like it might propel him into the air. He’s a whirlwind of energy, bounding straight for Drew, who’s still sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounded by wrapping paper. Drew laughs, trying to push Cooper’s snout away as he eagerly licks at his face. The dog is clearly thrilled to finally be apart of the action after being booted to the basement during gifts because he was too hyper.

Your focus shifts back to Paige, who’s holding a large box in her arms. She’s being careful with it, her steps deliberate as she sets it down in the middle of the floor, a few feet away from you. The grin on her face is impossible to miss—it’s a mixture of pride, excitement, and something that feels almost mischievous.

Your eyes narrow immediately. “What is it?” you ask, suspicious.

“You see,” Paige replies, her tone teasing as she kneels beside the box. Her hands rest on the top of it, and she’s clearly holding back a laugh at the confusion on your face.

Your gaze darts to your brother, who’s leaning casually against the couch with a smirk. You turn back to your girlfriend, your suspicion growing. “Paige,” you say, dragging her name out. “If this is a prank…”

Paige gasps in mock offense, her blue eyes wide. “A prank? On Christmas? Would I do that to you?”

“Yes,” you deadpan, which earns a round of laughter from your family.

“Just open it,” Paige says, brushing off your sarcasm with a grin and a roll of your eyes.

You hesitate, shifting on the floor as you inch closer to the box. Something about it feels… odd. It’s big, but not heavy enough to be something truly large. And when you look closer, you think you see it move. Your breath catches, and you tilt your head, trying to hear.

You think you catch a noise.

Your heart starts to race as you reach for the kid, glancing at Paige one more time. “I swear to God,” you say, eyeing her.

“Just trust me!” she says, laughing now. Her eyes gleam, and her grin is so wide.

You lift off the lid, and for a second, you just stare.

Then, your entire face lights up.

“Wait, oh my God!” you exclaim, grinning so wide your cheeks hurt. Inside the box is a tiny golden retriever puppy, his fur soft and fluffy, his bright eyes blinking up at you curiously. He has a red bow tied snugly around his neck, and he’s pawing at the edge of the box, already eager to escape.

You don’t hesitate—you reach in and scoop him up, cradling him in your arms as he wriggles excitedly. He’s warm and small, his paws pressing against your chest as he stretches up to lick your face. His little tail wags furiously, and you can’t stop laughing as he covers you in emphatic kisses.

“Paige!” you gasp, still laughing as the puppy snuggles into your neck. “Oh my God! Are you serious?”

“Surprise,” she says, her grin impossibly wide. She looks proud, and there’s a soft warmth in her gaze as she watches you hold the puppy like he’s the most precious thing in the world.

“I can’t—I—” you stutter, voice cracking slightly. Tears well up in your eyes as you hold the puppy close, his little head resting against your shoulder. “You really got us a puppy?”

Paige nods, sitting back on her heels. “I know how much you been wantin’ one,” she says softly. “So… he’s ours now.”

You blink back tears, your heart full as you look down at the tiny ball of fur in your arms. He lets out a soft tip and nuzzles closer to you, and you can’t stop smiling. “What’s his name?” you ask.

“Maverick,” Paige replies. “But I’ve been calling him Mav.”

“Maverick,” you repeat, testing it. It feels perfect, like it was meant for him.

You look back at Paige, your eyes shining. “When did you have time to do this?”

“They helped me,” Paige explains, gesturing to your mom and brother. “The day we got here, we went to pick him out while you went last-minute shopping. He’s been in the basement ever since, hanging out with Cooper and our brothers.”

Your mom smiles warmly from her spot on the couch. “It was all P’s idea,” she says. “She was so excited about it—she couldn’t stop talking about how much you’d love him.”

Your heart swells as you look at Paige, who’s trying to act nonchalant but is clearly basking in the praise. You lean over, the puppy still nestled in your arms, and press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I love you,” you whisper.

Paige smirks, though there’s a blush creeping up her cheeks. “I know,” she says playfully, earning a soft hit to her arm from you.

The rest of the morning is a blur of excitement. Maverick becomes the center of attention immediately, with everyone wanting to hold him or pet him. Even Cooper seems thrilled about the new addition, sniffling bum curiously and then wagging his tail like he’s just made a new best friend.

But no matter how much everyone else tries to steal Mav’s attention, he keeps coming back to you and Paige. Like he belongs there. Which, you suppose, he does now.

THE SNOW FALLS steadily, blanketing the night in a soft, shimmering layer of white. The world feels hushed, as though the snow has pressed pause on everything else, leaving just you, Paige, and Maverick in your one little bubble. Your boots crunch against the snow-covered sidewalk as you tuck yourself closer into Paige’s side, desperate for any warmth you can find against the freezing cold. The icy air nips at your nose and cheeks, and your breath puffs out in visible clouds.

“I cannot believe you dragged me out here,” you grumble, your teeth chattering as another gust of wind cuts through your coat. “It’s Christmas night. It’s freezing. Who does this?”

Paige just grins, looking entirely unbothered by the cold. “You’ve lived here your whole life,” she teases, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement as she gives you a gentle nudge with her elbow. “Suck it up. You’re supposed to be used to this.”

You roll your eyes, though you can’t stop the smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I’ve gotten used to the Dallas heat,” you retort, because you have. Grumbling again, you burrow yourself deeper into your scarf.

Paige just laughs, reaching down to adjust Maverick’s leash as he bounds happily ahead of you, his tiny paws kicking up little sprays of snow. His golden coat gleams under the soft glow of the streetlights, and his tail wags furiously as he sniffs at the snowbanks on either end of the sidewalk.

“Look at him,” Paige says, gesturing to the puppy with a grin. “Look how happy he is. How could you not wanna be out here with him?”

You glance down at Mav, who’s clearly having the time of his life. You sigh, conceding the point. “Fine,” you mumble, pulling your coat tighter around you as you watch him hop through the snow like it’s the best thing he’s ever experienced.

The three of you continue down the street, the cold biting at your exposed skin, until you reach the town square just a block down from your house. It’s quiet and empty, just as you’d expected, but it’s so beautiful and familiar that you can’t bring yourself to complain anymore.

The little shops lining the square are all decorating for the holidays, their windows glowing warmly against the night. Twinkling lights are strung from lamppost to lamppost, and garlands of evergreen and red ribbon add a festive touch to the storefronts. The snow falls steadily, coating everything in a pristine layer of white, and for a moment, you feel like you’ve stepped into a scene from a Hallmark movie.

You glance over at Paige, and the sight of her bundled up in her coat and beanie, snowflakes caught in her golden hair, makes your heart squeeze. She looks over at you and grins, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold.

“Worth it?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

You huff, but you can’t stop the smile spreading across your face. “Maybe.”

She smirks, clearly pleased with herself, and gives Maverick’s leash a gentle tug to redirect him as he tries to nose his way into yet another snowbank. The three of you wander through the square until you reach the massive Christmas tree in the center. It’s a towering evergreen, wrapped in thousands of white and gold lights that cast a warm, inviting glow over the snow.

Paige slows to a stop near the tree, and you glance over at her, your breath catching slightly at the look on her face. She’s smiling softly, but there’s an unfamiliar nervousness—almost vulnerability—that overcasts her expression, making your heart stutter.

“What?” you ask softly as you tilt your head at her.

She steps closer, her gloved pinky brushing against yours before hooking around it gently. “This is where we first met,” she murmurs, her voice low, almost hesitant. “Remember?”

Of course you remember. How could you ever forget?

It had been five years ago, during one of those rare weekends when you’d been home from school in December. You’d been wandering the square with a fresh hot chocolate in hand, trying to find a Christmas gift for your mom. The snow had been falling just like it is now, and you’d been heading to the little jewelry shop on the corner when someone had barreled straight into your chest, spilling your drink all over you—and them.

That someone had been Paige.

You’d recognized her immediately, of course. Every student at UConn knew who she was—Paige Bueckers, the basketball sensation, the phenom. You were a freshman, she a sophomore, and you’d yet to see her on campus your entire first semester. But there you were then, seeing her in person for the first time, in—of all places—your coastal little hometown. It was the last thing you’d ever expected.

She’d been mortified, stumbling over herself as she apologizes and offered to buy you a new hot chocolate. You’d tried to brush it off, but she’d insisted, dragging you back to the little café to get a replacement. The two of you ended up talking while you waited for it, and when she found out you went to UConn, her eyes had lit up.

Somehow—still to this day, you’re not entirely sure how—she’d managed to get your number before you left. The next week, you’d hung out on campus for the first time. And from there, it had been history.

Now, five years later, you’re standing in the exact same spot, under the glow of the exact same Christmas tree, with the snow falling around you just like it had that day.

Your chest feels tight as you look at her, taking in the way the snowflakes catch in her hair, the way her blue eyes shine against the cold. She’s so beautiful it almost hurts.

“Of course I remember,” you whisper, your breath fogging up in the cold air.

You watch as Paige takes a little breath, her chest rising and falling as she glances down at the snow-covered ground. Her lips part, but no words come out right away. Her hands fidget slightly with Maverick’s leash, and the Paige Bueckers standing before you—this soft, nervous version of her—is such a stark contrast to the confident and often-times annoying girl you’re so used to seeing.

You tilt your head, eyebrows knitting together in concern. “What’s wrong?” you ask gently, voice barely audible over the soft crunch of Mav’s paws in the snow.

But she shakes her head, glancing back at you with what might just be the softest smile you’ve ever seen. It’s disarming, and your breath catches in your throat a little at it. “I have another gift for you,” she murmurs.

You blink at her. “Paige, no,” you protest immediately, a small huff escaping your lips. She’s already gotten you more than enough—between the thoughtful, expensive presents she gave you earlier and the effort she’s put into making this Christmas perfect, you feel spoiled.

But Paige just shakes her head again, her smile widening just slightly as she takes a step closer, reaching for your gloved hands. You don’t resist as she pulls them out of your pockets and wraps her own around them, the warmth of her touch seeping through the fabric. Maverick’s leash rests between both of your palms, the two of you holding him together.

“Stop,” she says softly, her voice almost teasing but laced with something deeper. “It’s fine. It’s just—this one’s a little… different than the others, ‘kay?”

Your brows furrow a little, still confused. There’s something in her expression—something hesitant and vulnerable, almost like she’s unsure of herself—and it makes your chest stumble. Slowly, you step closer, your eyes boring into hers as you whisper, “P, I don’t know what more you can give me. You’ve already given me everything.”

She lets out a breath at that, exhaling slowly. “Not everything,” she murmurs, eyes downcast.

You tilt your head in question, half-lost. “What d’you mean?”

Paige takes another deep breath, her hands tightening around yours just slightly. For a long moment, she doesn’t say anything, and you can see her trying to gather her thoughts, her blue eyes darting away from yours and then back again.

“Okay, um…” she starts, her voice faltering a little before she lets out a nervous laugh. “I—I don’t really know how to say this, because I’ve been thinkin’ about this for so long, had it all prepared, but now that we’re actually here, it’s—it’s all just kinda gone away…”

Your heart is pounding now, your stomach twisting in anticipation. Paige is rarely like this—stuttering, stumbling over her words—and the fact that she is has you hanging on her every syllable.

She shifts her weight, glancing down at the snow-covered ground for a moment before looking back up at you. Her cheeks are even more pink than before, whether that be from the cold or nerves, and the look in her gaze makes your throat tighten.

“I love you,” she says finally, her voice steady now despite the nervous energy radiating off of her. “I’ve loved you for so long, and I can’t—I can’t even imagine a version of my life where you’re not in it. You’re—you’re my best friend, my person, my everything. And every time I think about the future, it’s you, always you. Every single time.”

Your breath catches, and you think your eyes begin to swim, though you’re not even entirely sure why yet. You squeeze her hands lightly, trying to reassure her even though you’re the one suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

“I want to do this forever with you,” Paige continues, her voice growing softer with each word. “I want every Christmas with you, every family gathering, every walk with Mav. I want you to be there for all my big moments, and I want to be there for all of yours. I just—I want you. Forever. And I don’t wanna wait anymore to tell you that.”

She lets go of one of your hands then, reaching into the pocket of her coat. For a second, you’re confused, your heart hammering in your chest as you watch her movements, and then—

Oh.

Time seems to stop as Paige pulls a small, velvet box from her pocket and drops to one knee in the snow. Your eyes widen, your breath freezing in your chest as you stare down at her, completely locked in place.

She flips the box open, revealing the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. It’s simple yet stunning, a perfect match for you in every way, and the sight of it sends a rush of emotions flooding through you.

“Baby,” Paige says, her voice trembling slightly as she looks up at you with the most earnest expression you’ve ever seen. “Will you marry me?”

Your mouth falls open, but no sound comes out. Your heart is pounding so hard you’re sure she can hear it, and your eyes are completely flooded now.

Paige stays kneeling there, her gaze locked on yours, and she looks so hopeful, so full of love, that it takes your breath away. The world around you seems to blur, the snow falling softly around you and the glow of the Christmas tree lighting up the moment like something almost out of a dream.

You can’t speak, can’t move, can’t do anything but stare at her as the weight of what’s happening finally settles over you. Paige Bueckers—the girl who spilled hot chocolate on you five years ago, who turned your entire world upside down without even trying—is asking you to spend the rest of your life with her.

The words catch in your throat, tangled between a sob and a laugh, as you finally come to your senses. Your lips tremble, your heart racing faster than ever, and then it all bursts out at once. “Yes,” you choke, voice breaking. “Fuck, yes. Of course, baby.”

Paige lets out something between a laugh and a sob of her own, her grin so wide it’s almost silly. Her eyes are glistening with tears, matching yours, and for a moment, you’re both just staring at each other like you can’t quite believe this is real.

And then you move.

Instead of waiting for her to stand, you drop down into the snow with her, no longer caring about the cold or the fact that your pants are already damp. Your hands find her face as you crash your lips into hers, kissing her so deeply, so passionately, that it feels like your chest might explode from everything you’re feeling.

Her hands slide to your waist, pulling you closer as the snow falls softly around you, your noses brushes and your tears mingling between the kiss. It’s emotional and raw and maybe the most meaningful kiss you’ve ever shared, the kind that feels like a promise all on its own.

When you finally pull back, breathless and overwhelmed, Paige presses her forehead against yours. Her eyes shine cerulean, her cheeks streaked with tears, but she’s smiling like she’s never been happier in her life. She presses one, two, three quick pecks to your lips, her grin only widening with each one.

You laugh softly, your heart still racing, and then she’s reaching for your left hand, gently tugging your glove off. Her fingers tremble slightly as she takes the ring from its box, sliding it onto your finger with the utmost care.

It fits perfectly.

Paige leans down, brushing her lips against the ring on your finger like it’s the most sacred thing she’s ever touched. “Perfect,” she murmurs, her voice soft and full of awe.

And then, suddenly, Maverick bounds into the moment, pouncing between you and Paige with all the enthusiasm of a puppy who has no idea what’s just happened but is thrilled to be a part of it. His nose nudges your hand, and you both laugh as his tongue flicks out, licking the shiny new ring before jumping up to cover Paige’s face in kisses, too.

“Okay, okay!” Paige laughs, trying to fend him off but not really putting much effort into it. You giggle, reaching out to scratch behind his ears before pressing a kiss to the side of his head.

Paige skips her arm around your neck, tugging you close again. Her voice is soft but teasing as she murmurs, “Now I can finally call you my wife, and no one can complain ‘bout it.”

You roll your eyes, though your smile betrays how giddy you feel. “Still not your wife,” you correct, holding up your hand to show off the ring. “Fiancée.”

Paige just shakes her head stubbornly, her nose brushing against yours as she whispers, “Nah. Wife.”

And then she’s kissing you again, her lips warm against yours despite the chill in the air. Mav paws at both of you, trying to squeeze himself into the moment like he doesn’t want to be let out, and you laugh against Paige’s lips, your heart so full it might burst.

Because there, in the snow, at the very spot where you first met five years ago, the world feels impossibly small and endlessly vast all at once. This is a new beginning—the two of you, Maverick, and the life you’re going to build together. It’s the start of your family, the start of everything that comes next, and as Paige kisses you again, with snowflakes catching in her lashes and Mav pawing at your side, you realize with a sneaky feeling that love actually is—all around.

#paige bueckers #uconn wbb #paige bueckers fic #uconn huskies #wcbb #uconn #wbb #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers fluff #wcbb x reader #wnba #wnba x reader #wlw #lgbtq #christmas fic

898 notes · View notes

acid-ixx · 5 months ago

Note

Ohhhhhhhmisggashoosghhh

I love everything about "before the bell rings"

Such masterpiece such peakness oh my goodkdasssdffrddf. Couldnt stop thinking abt it couldnt stop rereading it its ltrly currently 3:11 am rn i wasnt aware of the time all i know was that i was obsessively drawing this man with your story in my mind my god i couldnt stop giggling and blushing n i had to take few breaks n paces in my room to cool off

HOPE U ARENT TOO WEIRDED OUT

— related post ! (tw: a bit nsfw, non-con kissing)

OHMYGOD. OHMYGOD!!! user luffyadolover you are the gift that keeps on giving because WHAT THE HELL??? more than five sketches of this feral, horny man and HE'S SO HANDSOME ILYSM FOR THIS!!! i'm actually so down bad i had to stare at the last image for a few minutes because YOU DREW THE ENTIRE SCENE SO WELL.

i love the first image, you drew him so well, the slick-back hair and everything!?!? with him looking all so proud of himself when he chooses something for his spouse that they actually really like, as if he didn't just planned to ignore you or to simply hastily choose whichever looks the fanciest; that was the plan until his brain haywires just witnessing the absolute joy on your face every time he picks something right; imprinting the memory of your smile in his brain to the point he sees it every time he blinks— so now it's become his daily mission after falling for you to traverse each and every shopping site and malls in his batcave to ensure you only get the highest quality of gifts. mind you, he is a very dedicated man, bruce wayne doesn't give up so easily.

AND THE SECOND AND THIRD IMAGES TOO !!! with his mask on, you couldn't really tell just how obsessed he is, due to the blunt face he always has to wear, but the comparison of him without; with the stare that speaks of a million promises all dedicated to honoring and cherishing his beloved spouse. he doesn't need wedding vows when his eyes (always almost unexpressive, unable to fully show the full range of his emotions; vulnerable in the midst of worshipping his sleeping, little deity) already presents what your future life would like with him.

it doesn't matter if you're drooling, or butt-fuck naked. if i say he's remembering every small, incoherent detail about how you sleep, what position you sleep in, even the position you bury your head in the pillow, let that devotion cement in the very crevices of his mind and in every corner of his heart. it wouldn't matter anyways that you're sleeping alone, hugging a pillow (that should've been him) now, because soon, you'd be quickly migrated in his bed, in his arms, and you won't be getting out. he'd be too invested in the smell of your hair, the feel of the pudge in your stomach, and the seams of your clothing rubbing against his thighs to even allow you to let go.

AND GOD, THE SKETCH WHERE HE'S JUST LICKING THE SPIT AND ALL?!? my brain is malfunctioning, i'm going insane. this is my favorite fanart of yours so far, i'm so grateful for your existence because you've graced me 😭 i'm absolutely not going to deny the future accusations of me writing for debauched and absolutely feral and/or horny bruce wayne!!! trust me when i'm telling you that he's not only memorizing exterior parts of you, but bruce promises (it's actually just him justifying his actions) himself that he has to remember what the inside of your mouth feels like to fully and properly kiss you before your wedding date arrives, just to establish how much of an absolutely perfect husband he will be for you.

to make up for all his past mistakes of absolutely ignoring you, to ensure you that it's not you who's the problem— it's him and he has to fix it all. he has to guarantee that you won't even dare look at another man; even if it means watching you every night disguised as the bat, then coming home to the manor (your shared home, soon) by the time the sun breaks out of its sleepy stupor, just to dream about what it'd feel like pinning you willingly and taking you all for himself after your honeymoon— how could a man like him stop dreaming about his beloved spouse? how could he control his hands to stop lingering beneath his utility belt just to touch and pleasure his body the same way he wishes to worship yours?

the answer is: you don't. or rather, you couldn't.

so if you ever feel your lips becoming more and more sore every other night, and notice the trinkets from your desk and even undergarments from your closet now missing... well, you'll soon know who the culprit is...

a/n: no, i do not tolerate this behavior irl. once again, pls be aware guys that this is a yandere blog (and i've been writing content like this for years) and i'm bound to write more extreme concepts compared to this. the only element that never disappears from this is that i'm writing under the sub-"category" of soft yandere. that doesn't mean it doesn't stray away from the eventual dub-con/non-con.

once again, thank u so much for the dedication to send me so many good fanarts @luffyadolover 😭🥹, although i may not always reply quickly, i appreciate you and all the other fanartists who spend their time drawing inspired by my content. it's truly an honor, and in all my years of writing, you guys are one of the reason why i still continue to write <333

537 notes · View notes

gensideas · 5 months ago

Text

LOVE IN THE SPOTLIGHT

summary Y/N Sánchez, daughter of Roselyn Sánchez, appeared on Jimmy Kimmel with her fiancé, Drew Starkey. While Y/N spoke confidently about her career, Drew couldn’t hide his admiration, often losing focus as he gazed at her. His lovestruck demeanor contrasted with Y/N’s composure, creating a sweet and memorable moment that left fans swooning over their undeniable chemistry.

features Fiancé!Drew Starkey x Fiancé!actress!reader

The bright lights of the studio shone down on me as I adjusted the hem of my flowing emerald-green dress. It hugged my figure perfectly, a piece from a designer who had insisted I wear it to highlight my poise and grace. But I wasn’t thinking about the dress or the cameras pointed at me. I was thinking about Drew Starkey, my fiancé, sitting just a few feet away. His piercing blue eyes followed my every movement, a soft smile playing at his lips.

Being the daughter of the legendary actress Roselyn Sánchez, I was a rising star in my own right. My breakout role in a critically acclaimed drama had catapulted me to the spotlight, and now I was the name on every producer’s lips. Despite my rapid ascent, I remained grounded, thanks in no small part to Drew, whose quiet confidence and unwavering support made him my anchor.

“We’re ready for you,” a producer’s voice called.

I gave Drew a quick glance. He gave me a reassuring nod, though his gaze lingered a bit too long. My beauty had always captivated him, but tonight, under the soft glow of studio lights, I felt otherworldly.

The interview set was elegant, with plush chairs and a backdrop of shimmering gold curtains. I took my seat beside Drew, the host across from us. The audience clapped enthusiastically, the excitement palpable.

“Good evening, everyone!” Jimmy began, flashing a practiced smile. “Tonight, we have two incredible guests: the stunning Y/N Sánchez and her fiancé, the talented Drew Starkey. Let’s give them a warm welcome!”

The applause swelled, and my cheeks flushed. I glanced at Drew, who was already looking at me, his expression soft and unguarded. He seemed utterly unaware of the cameras or the audience—his world had narrowed to just me.

“Y/N, your performance in Eclipsed Dreams has been called transformative. How does it feel to step out of your mother’s shadow and establish your own legacy?” Jimmy asked.

My smile widened. “It’s surreal. Growing up, I always admired my mother’s work, but she encouraged me to find my own path. It’s been a challenging journey, but I’m grateful for the opportunities and for the people who believe in me.”

Jimmy turned to Drew. “And Drew, you’ve been quite the supportive partner. What’s it like watching Y/N rise to stardom?”

Drew chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Honestly, it’s mesmerizing. She’s incredibly talented, hardworking, and… well, look at her.” He gestured toward me, his voice tinged with awe. “She’s breathtaking.”

The audience swooned, and my face turned a deeper shade of pink. “You’re too much,” I murmured, though the sparkle in my eyes revealed my delight.

“Drew, you’ve built an impressive career yourself,” Jimmy continued. “What’s the key to balancing your own busy schedule with supporting Y/N?”

“Communication and respect,” Drew said. “We both have demanding careers, but we make time for each other. It helps that we genuinely enjoy spending time together—she’s my favorite person.”

“That’s so sweet,” Jimmy said, turning back to me. “Y/N, do you find inspiration in Drew’s work?”

I nodded enthusiastically. “Absolutely. Drew is so dedicated to his craft. Watching him immerse himself in his roles motivates me to give my all in my own performances. We’re constantly learning from each other.”

“It sounds like you have a wonderful partnership,” Jimmy said. “One last question: What’s next for both of you?”

I exchanged a glance with Drew before answering. “I’m working on a new project that’s still under wraps, but I’m really excited about it. It’s something completely different from anything I’ve done before.”

“And I’ve got a couple of films lined up,” Drew added. “But we’re also making sure to carve out some time for ourselves. Life is about balance, after all.”

The audience applauded as Jimmy wrapped up the interview. “Y/N and Drew, thank you so much for joining us tonight. We can’t wait to see what the future holds for you both.”

When the cameras stopped rolling, we lingered on the set, chatting with the host and producers. Drew’s hand never left mine, a quiet but constant reassurance.

“You were incredible,” Drew whispered as we walked toward our car. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

“You’re biased,” I teased.

“Maybe,” he admitted, pulling me close. “But it’s the truth.”

We paused under the soft glow of the parking lot lights, the city’s hum around us. Drew cupped my face, his thumb brushing my cheek. “I’m so proud of you, Y/N. You’re a star, and not just on screen.”

Tears pricked my eyes as I leaned into his touch. “I couldn’t do any of this without you.”

Our lips met in a tender kiss, sealing a moment that felt timeless.

The interview aired the following evening, and social media exploded with praise. Fans gushed over my grace and Drew’s evident adoration. A clip of Drew’s comment about my beauty went viral, earning us the nickname “Hollywood’s Sweethearts.”

As we sat together in our cozy living room, scrolling through the flood of messages, Drew wrapped an arm around me. “Looks like people are just as mesmerized by you as I am.”

“By us,” I corrected, resting my head on his shoulder. “We’re a team, Drew.”

He kissed the top of my head. “The best team.”

And as the night stretched on, filled with laughter and love, I knew that no matter how bright my star shone, it would always shine brightest with Drew by my side.

409 notes · View notes

moongreenlight · 2 years ago

Text

141 gossiping about Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley for roughly 3,000 words idk titles are hard

Price was the first to notice. Priding himself on being incredibly observant, especially when it came to his boys.

He noticed that whenever they had a break from trainings or meetings, he’d somehow always find the two of you in a room together. Never close enough to give him reason to say anything. You scribbling notes on a patient report at one table, Ghost at another, his chair angled just enough so that he could watch you from the corner of his eye.

Noticed the way Ghost’s hand rested on the small of your back for a heartbeat when you entered a doorway before him. Just a brush of his massive hand on you, quick enough to be mistaken for an accidental touch.

Noticed how Ghost’s eyes seemed to always flick to you from across the mess hall. Not often, but enough for Price to casually turn his head and see that same nurse Ghost seemed to have a preference for.

At first, Price thought he could help by being a wingman of sorts. When Ghost took damage on a mission, Price would escort him to medbay and watch as he dismissed nurse after nurse until you were finally available to treat him. Price lingered as long as he could before you inevitably waved him away, cheekily reminding him you always took good care of his team and that you’d have ‘Lieutenant Riley’ back in no time. The only thing he could catch was the way Ghost’s shoulders relaxed by a hair’s breadth when you drew the curtain shut behind you.

He tried again during a meeting with his boys. Suggesting they bring a medic on a mission with them. Said something about how it would be better to have the option of a patch-up readily available. Keep his team fighting fit in real time instead of having to wait until they came back to base. Price saw the way Ghost tensed slightly in his seat, the muscles in his jaw twitching under his balaclava.

The notion was quickly vetoed. Ghost grumbling something about not wanting to babysit any more than he already does. How it’s ultimately more paperwork he doesn’t want to have to deal with.

He tried once more, going to Ghost’s office one evening. Almost turning tail once he realized how ridiculous it was to be this insistent on figuring out if his Lieutenant had some boyish crush on the sweet nurse he always seemed to be lingering around. But ultimately decided that it was good practice to know more about his team personally. Better bonding meant better interaction on the field, right?

He asked Ghost to redo some paperwork. Add a ‘next of kin’ to his file in the event that something happened and they needed to alert someone. Ghost looked a little suspicious, shrugging off the request.

“Left it off for a reason, Captain.”

He said gruffly, waving a hand. Barely looking up from his desk.

Price pursed his lips, shifting his weight slightly.

“You sure, Simon? Haven’t got anyone that’d be interested to know what happened to you?”

Ghost rubbed the bridge of his nose, like the conversation was more trouble than it was worth, before shrugging once more. Finally looking up from his desk and leaning back slightly in his chair.

“You planning on shipping me off somewhere and not picking me back up?”

A small chuckle from Price. A shake of his head.

“Can’t say I am.”

“Cheers, then. Leave it off.”

This quelled Price’s curiosity for a while, unable to dream up any other reason to try and force Ghost to indulge him. It no doubt hurt his ego a bit, thinking about how his Lieutenant and one of his closest friends was so dead set on keeping his personal life so closely guarded. He’d push the feelings aside, chalk it up to being jaded by his work. Over-involved in the lives of Soap and Gaz. It was probably good for Simon to have something sacred.

Soap wasn’t as easily deterred once he caught on. Not as immediately perceptive as the others, but he knew Ghost well enough to know his tells.

It was after a long mission. Months long. Grueling, shitty, exhausting work. They got back in the early evening, mercifully spared from a debrief until the following day. Soap somehow ended up dragging Ghost to a dive bar a few blocks from base. Trying to sound persuasive when he mentioned that it was a Friday night and they deserved a few drinks and some female attention after all this time going without.

And they did get attention. Two good looking military men sitting at the bar were bound to. Soap knew that Ghost wasn’t one to play the field, but this was a bit frigid even for him. Ignoring girls who came up and tried to strike conversation. Rolling his eyes, or huffing a sigh like it was a chore to even dismiss them, drumming his fingers on the wall of his glass like he’s bored. It was baffling.

What was even more baffling was the way that Ghost’s knee bounced slightly against the stool. An infinitesimally small movement, but the way it caught Johnny’s eye made it seem like Ghost was all but jumping up and down. He looked almost anxious. Itching to get up and leave.

“Fuck’s wrong with you?”

Ghost’s head jerked toward Johnny, cold eyes narrowing in a way that would have been terrifying years ago- before he’d gotten used to it.

“Come again?”

“Got somewhere to be, have you?”

He sounds almost indignant. Like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Ghost is stand-offish by nature, but this is a caliber he hasn’t yet encountered. Almost enough to be offensive. To make him question the quality of his company.

“Maybe I do. What’s it to you?”

Ghost grumbled, killing the contents of his glass with a final mouthful. Setting it back on the counter and moving to drum his fingers on the bar.

“Been out of the country for months and you expect me to believe you’ve got plans tonight?”

This earned a sigh, low enough to pass as a growl.

“You keeping my social calendar now, then?”

He stood, digging through his wallet for a moment before slapping some cash down on the table next to his empty glass. Not giving Johnny an opportunity to lodge any further complaints against him. Before he nodded his goodnight and slipped out of the bar. Mumbling something about needing to get back to his flat and check on some things.

Soap couldn’t get his mind around it. Ghost was elusive, sure, but again; something seemed off. He was calm, cool, and collected. Wouldn’t be caught dead manifesting his impatience physically. The fidgeting and twitching in his seat. The first place Soap’s mind went was maybe Ghost was dying? That’d be the only reasonable explanation for his behavior. But even then, it seemed a bit extreme.

The next day after the debrief, which was nearly as brutal as the deployment itself, Soap was still so in his head about Ghost’s behavior he almost didn’t notice the pretty nurse who seemed to be waiting for someone at the end of the hall. In fact, he was so stuck in his own mind, he only caught a fleeting glimpse of Ghost’s back rounding the corner with the nurse at his side. Hushed conversation disappearing with them. A softer, much more pleasant voice than Simon’s.

He debated whether or not to follow them, maybe answer the questions that’d been plaguing his mind. Ultimately, he decided in favor of it. Padding down the hall behind the duo who seemed to be headed back to Simon’s office. They weren’t walking closely enough to touch, but Soap immediately picked up on the tension between them. Like the distance was serving some sort of purpose.

Soap lingered in the hallway for a few minutes after the two disappeared into Ghost’s office, trying to sort the pieces of the puzzle he’d barely began collecting. He ultimately decided to go the route he was most comfortable with. Not one for sneaking about, he simply strode up to the office door and swung it open.

You were sat at one of the chairs in front of Simon’s desk, him standing with his arms folded over his chest next to you. Not compromising enough for Johnny’s taste, but he still put on a wide grin and nodded to you.

“Forget how to knock?”

Ghost’s voice was calm enough, but his eyes were shooting daggers straight through Johnny. You looked stiff as a board, chewing the inside of your lip through the tight smile you were giving him.

“Sorry, L.T. Needed to know if you’re still on for trainings this afternoon.”

He didn’t miss the way your eyes flicked to Ghost, communicating something that he couldn’t quite decipher wordlessly before you began studying your nails in your lap.

Ghost cleared his throat, rolling his tongue in his cheek. Growling something obscene under his breath. The agitation rolling off of him in waves.

“No. Got another assignment.”

And with that, Soap was all but thrown from the office. Querying about this ‘new assignment’ the whole way. Simon crowding him to the door until he finally snapped it shut on his nose.

He heard later that day Ghost was seen in medbay with a toolkit swearing at an X-Ray machine that had been giving you trouble for a month. After that, Soap was on the two of you like a fly on shit. Never missing an opportunity to bring you up to Ghost or vise versa. Mock-innocently saying something to Ghost in passing at dinner about you. Asking if he fancied you. When he said no, Johnny shrugged and nodded. Saying he was glad because he had plans to ask you out the next time he was injured.

That comment landed Soap in the bay sooner than expected. Escorting him to a different nurse’s exam area and standing guard the entire time his black eye was being iced. Berating him for not being able to block a few punches when they had sparred after dinner.

And Gaz, sweet boy that he is, was always more emotionally in-tune. Observant about the little things. Able to pick up on queues Soap and Price may have missed over the years. He was keen as he was quiet, keeping all his little discoveries to himself. Over the years, he’d created a small arsenal of moments he wasn’t sure were significant enough to bring up. Things he could have talked himself into imagining if he thought about them hard enough. Not wanting to jump to conclusions about anything.

But he noticed the incredibly subtle tan line on Ghost’s left hand. Noticed the way he tapped his foot impatiently when the debrief after a long deployment ran long. Noticed the way you always seemed to be around the yard when they touched down after a mission. The way your shoulders dropped when you saw all four of them had returned home. Like you had just been relieved the duty of holding up the sky.

He didn’t immediately connect the dots. Initially thinking that you’d just taken a special liking to the task force. They were some of your most frequent visitors, after all. Price had all but claimed you as their own. Specially requesting that you were the only one to patch their wounds, claiming the other nurses couldn’t hold a flame to your skill.

He didn’t mind. Came to enjoy the little chats the two of you had when the curtains around the cot were drawn. The little kikis you had where you chatted about anything and everything. Complaining about your jobs, irritating patients, botched missions, the morsels of gossip from around base.

One day, after a particularly nasty skirmish on a mission, all four of the men had gnarly wounds. You looked a bit more tired than usual. A bit more on-edge. Your answers were a bit more flat than they usually were. So the first part of the assessment was left mostly silent spare for a few soft “thank you’s” on his part.

It was only when you were bandaging a wound on his thigh did he notice the shape of a ring on your left hand under your glove. A thin band that wrapped neatly around your finger.

“Didn’t know you were married, doc.”

It was a passing comment, more just to spare him the agony of trying to hide his soft groans of pain in the thick silence.

You hummed your acknowledgment, focused more on working sutures through his skin neatly than anything else.

“Lucky bloke. Hope he’s good to you.”

It wasn’t flirty or predatory, like so many of the soldiers could be. A genuine thought. He’d always thought you were sweet. Easy to chat with, always offering him a smile and a chirped greeting when the two of you passed in the hall. Thought you deserved someone to share in your kindness.

You smiled, brow still furrowed slightly in your focus while tying off the stitches.

“He does alright.”

You chuckled softly, straightening on your stool and rolling back just slightly so you could meet his eye.

“All these years and you never mentioned. I’m hurt.”

He words came with a practiced ease, slipping back into your usual playful chatter without missing a beat. Flashing a coy grin as he carefully flexed and relaxed his leg. Getting a feel for the newly patched wound.

You rolled the gloves off your hands and tossed them into the bin. Standing from your stool to scribble a few notes on his chart.

“Not something that ever came up.”

“Now it has. He have a name? How long you been together?”

You chuckled once more, looking over your shoulder at him with an arched brow. A little skeptical of his curiosity.

“A good while.”

He noticed the way you evaded his former question, like you’d done it before. It only fueled his curiosity.

“You worried I’ll know him? Or are you embarrassed? Not much of a looker?”

This earned an amused snort from you, turning away from the chart you’d been working on.

“Nothing wrong with wanting to keep my personal life personal, is there?”

You winked at him, pushing open the curtain that divided the small exam area from the rest of the bay.

He made a small sound of protest, making no move to stand from the cot just yet.

“Alright, forget it. Didn’t even want to know anyway.”

He sounded like a child being denied a sweet. Even playing up the act with a small pout on his mouth.

You tutted softly, conjuring up the best mock-sympathetic look you could before motioning for him to stand.

“We’ll talk later. Captain’ll have my hide if I keep you away a moment longer than is necessary.”

Another sound of protest, followed by a throaty groan as he finally pushed up off the bed. Unsure if he was being dramatic or if the aftermath of the mission had truly gotten to him that bad. Always a flare for the dramatics, him.

He muttered his thanks, cupping your shoulder in his hand as he trudged out. Making you promise to have a proper chat with him later.

He lingered in the bay, allowing himself a few moments peace before getting back to work. Just as he finally turned to leave, he saw Ghost moving stiffly- like he was trying to downplay a limp- toward your little exam area. Though for some reason, the scene looked a bit strange to him. He couldn’t help but peek in.

He caught the way you watched him lumber over with big, worried eyes. The way your nails dug into your palms until he was finally within arms reach. The way you quickly glanced around to see if anyone was paying the two of you any attention before your hands flew to his neck, fingers slipping expertly under the hem of his mask and yanking it up over his nose. Not rough or angry, but with the kind of urgency that suggested you may die if you didn’t see a sliver of his skin. Make absolutely certain he was truly there with you.

The most jarring part- Ghost actually allowing you to touch the mask. Allowing your little hands to breach his personal space. Hands that would have easily been dwarfed by his own, swallowed up and twisted or shoved away like he had seen happen so many times in sparring matches with prospect soldiers. But Ghost just let it happen.

It was a flurry of movement, so fast that Gaz was certain he could have blinked and missed it. Frozen watching the two of you from just behind another exam area. Feeling like he was intruding without even meaning to.

And then he saw the way Ghost’s big arms snaked around your waist, drawing you flush to his front. You leaning up onto your toes to bring your face closer to the Lieutenant’s. A fervid kiss. You flinging your arms around his neck. The way your shoulders shook. A small, choked sob that Gaz was all but certain he imagined. Drowned out for everyone else by the sounds of the bay.

He was almost shocked that the world continued to move after that. Shocked that something that seemed so monumental could happen tucked away into your barely private exam area. Shocked that your reunion hadn’t halted time and space for everyone else like it had for the two of you.

He felt dirty. Like he should go up and apologize for lingering and seeing what he saw. But he stayed rooted to the spot, finding it impossible to move.

Truly the most damning part was when he caught the quickest glimpse of your badge just before the curtain was tugged shut. The badge you kept carefully pinned to your uniform face-down for a reason he couldn’t fathom until now. Twisted free for just a moment and finally connecting the snippets of information he’d collected over the years.

(Y/N Riley)

3K notes · View notes

aurorasgate · 1 year ago

Text

what she likes

alhaitham x fem!reader x kaveh | 3.2k+ words

♡ collab fic written with my love @gojipink ♡

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, threesome but implied reader is in a relationship with alhaitham, dom!alhaitham, he man handles you both a lil<3 and is for sure in charge here, a little subby kaveh, clit spanking, fingering, oral (m!receiving), praise, the boys bicker, cream pie, cum eating

kaveh was utterly breathless at the sight of beauty in front of him; the kind of vision that left you burning and aching, one he couldn’t have even dreamed of but by the erratic beating of his heart and the hardness of his cock, he knew this was real.

it was no secret that you and alhaitham were beautiful humans, even more so together, but like this, you were both ethereal. your bare skin against alhaithams, having even touched his own as you passed by him as if to remind him he was here to be a part of this too, that you wanted him here.

from his spot at the foot of the bed, kaveh watches with slow breaths as alhaitham guides you between his muscular legs, the two of you sharing a deep kiss before he pressed your back to his chest, letting the architect get a glimpse of your glistening pussy as you arched to reach alhaitham.

he swallows, feeling his cock twitch, as alhaitham spreads your legs wide and you’re splayed out before him like a goddess. your already labored breaths and alhaitham heavy ones were like a melody, the rise and fall of your chest drew him in like the tide, the path of your tummy to between your legs a canvas he wanted to litter with his affections.

and when alhaitham touched you, the well cared for fingers of the scribe coating in your essence after so little touching, one swipe over your folds from your little hole to your clit but not giving either nearly enough attention yet, kaveh swore-

a wet slap fills the room and as if he hadn’t seen it the first time, alhaitham slaps your clit again with four of his fingers, making you jerk against him and choke back a moan, your head falling back on his chest.

“hey!” kaveh exclaims, the sudden roughness with you breaking him from his dreamlike haze. “that’s mean!”

“it’s not mean,” alhaitham answers plainly.

“you don’t need to be so rough with her, you brute.”

“can you not see how much she’s enjoying this?” and is if to emphasize his point, he does it again, just a bit harder this time and even though you whimper alhaithams name, you spread your legs wider. “you wouldn’t be able to make her cum like this, so stop acting like you know what you're talking about.”

“i don’t need to do that,” he says the word like a curse, “to make her cum.”

“oh?”

before either of them can say more, your breathy voice quiets their bickering.

“kaveh~” with a shaky hand you reach out for him and easily he follows.

you’re nearly completely pressed between the two of them as he leans in to kiss you soft and slow, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip before his tongue meets yours. warm calloused fingers brush against his temple, alhaitham tucking a lock of hair behind his ear as he kisses you.

the tender display is short lived when alhaitham opens his mouth, the smirk he wears, as he knows better, laced in every word. “i don’t think you’ll make her cum with your lips alone, senior.”

with a throaty grumble, kaveh pulls away from you panting, a string of silvia connecting your lips that breaks when he says breathlessly, “you’re so beautiful.”

kneeling between yours and alhaithams spread legs, with his cock leaking breads of precum, kaveh touches you like you’re the most delicate thing. the tips of his fingers parting your folds with attention and care before pressing against your clit and rubbing in circling motions that make you mewl softly.

your back arches off of alhaithams broad chest when kaveh slowly eases a finger into your tight hole, biting his bottom lip at this small feeling of you and by the time he’s knuckle deep, curling into you, he doesn’t know how long he’s going to last like this.

after a few pumps, he adds another and finds the perfect spot inside of you that has you seeing stars and you’re lifting your hips with every tender movement, every stroke inside of you that’s somehow not enough and too much, in a way that’s so different from alhaitham.

“see! she likes it soft too!” kaveh glares at alhaitham who was watching his ministrations over your shoulder, giving kaveh a chance even if he knew what the outcome would be.

alhaitham scoffs, “you think i dont know what she likes? that i dont know what makes her cum the hardest? at the pace you're setting, she wont cum for another two hours.” he talks like he knows, like he’s actually calculated the time.

kaveh gives alhaitham a little hmph! before turning his head back towards you, his eyes immediately softening at the sight of your furrowed brows and half-lidded eyes staring back at him. his fingers gently massaging your walls while his thumb traces light barely-there circles on your clit, a dizzying contrast between the bruising pace alhaitham set just minutes before.

nuzzling his cheek against your inner thigh, he presses sweet kisses against your soft skin,

“y/n, you like it like this too, right? he’s being too rough with you,” he pouts. “your pussy’s too perfect and pretty to be treated so harshly.”

before you could even open your mouth to give a reassuring reply, alhaitham grips onto kaveh’s wrist tugging his fingers out of you making you gasp out at the sudden loss of contact. you swear you could cry at the loss of kavehs fingers but your heart races at the loss of patience alhaitham was displaying.

their bickering was cute, you couldn’t find it in yourself to mind.

“alright, that's enough.” alhaitham snaps, moving from behind you. “get up, kaveh.”

“wh-what no! that's not fair, i barely even started!”

“you're not doing it right! go sit behind her, i’ll do it the way she wants, show you how to make her feel good.”

except that really could mean anything because alhaitham had made you feel good in countless ways. despite his protests to kavehs gentleness, alhaitham had loved you plenty like that too.

“she didn't even say anythi-ow!!”

alhaitham roughly grabs at the back of his neck, guiding him from between your legs and giving him a shove onto the bed near you. kaveh lets out a surprised muffled whimper when his face hits the pillow, unwillingly turned on even more due to alhaitham’s manhandling and the friction his aching dick receives when pressed into the plush covers.

kaveh’s about to whip around and cuss alhaitham out when your fingers soothingly comb through his hair. turning his head towards you, his words die down in his throat as he takes in your effortless beauty. cheeks dusted pink, lips puffy and red, your hair slightly tousled- he swears you're the most lovely being he's ever laid eyes on.

you giggle at his staring, sitting up to brush your fingers against his cheek. “c’mere, kaveh,” you tenderly beckon.

he whines your name sweetly while crawling towards you, “he’s being mean, tell him! he’ll only listen to you.”

you only laugh more while making room for him to sit behind you. his hands coming up to caress your arms as you situate yourself comfortably against his chest. you lean into him, sighing when he peppers soft kisses along your cheek, jaw, and shoulder. turning your head to face him with a hand cupping your jaw, he leans his forehead against yours.

“just wanna be good for you, y/n…” he mumbles quietly, brushing the tip of his nose against yours in tender sweeps. “just wanna worship you, hm? you want that too, right? too beautiful to be thrown around by that brute.” emphasizing the word by turning his head slightly to glare at alhaitham who was settling himself between your parted legs, rolling his eyes at kaveh’s attempted insult.

you only smile at their antics before reaching a hand up to tangle in kavehs hair, free from its normal clips, guiding his lips to press against yours. sighing into the kiss, kaveh’s hands gently slide up your sides before finding their way to your chest. kaveh lightly squeezes at the same time alhaitham slides two thick fingers inside you making you gasp out in surprise, your fingers in kavehs hair roughly tugging at silky strands.

letting out a choked moan against your lips, he can't help but press his leaky cock against your back searching for any kind of relief and it doesn’t go unnoticed by the scribe who looks as though he’s won something.

“c’mon, kaveh.” alhaitham warns, “you said you wanted to make her feel good, right? do something for her.”

he does but not because alhaitham told him to. you look so perfect laying against him like this, holding the back of his skull as he kisses along your lips, cheeks and neck, savoring the taste of your sweet skin and squeezing handfuls of your breasts.

“‘haitham!” you suddenly cry out at the pace he starts to set with his digits stuffed inside of you and the thumb he has pressed to your clit to only add to this near drugging pleasure.

you’re so wet the lewd sounds echo throughout the room and when kaveh pulls away from your supple skin, your whimpers of protest join the sound alhaitham is making with his fingers that pump in and out of you, pressing into your g spot like he’s memorized it’s place, and you know he has.

“please ‘haitham more..” you beg oh so sweetly.

“see? i told you,” alhaitham remarks, both of them watching you writhe around his fingers, your chest bouncing lightly with every movement, your hand in kavehs hair trembling and tugging tight every time he’s knuckles deep and giving you exactly what you asked for.

a mumble of “yeah.. but still,” falls from kavehs lips, wanting nothing more than to worship you with every gentle caress you deserved but unable to deny the way he feels watching you now, taking alhaitham so well.

ruby eyes roll to the back of kavehs head at the feeling of your hand in his hair at a partially hard tug when alhaitham turned relentless but when they come back to you, he’s in such awe watching your jaw slacken and your eyes flutter shut, your hands reaching for any part of him you could.

not taking his eyes off of you for another moment, kavehs hands travels down your arching sides and over your heaving breasts as your orgasm washes over you, gushing and throbbing around alhaithams fingers, rippling throughout your body and making you shake. kaveh didn’t think you could get any more beautiful but he had never seen you like this.

you collapse against kavehs chest but he’s there to gently bring you down from your high. rubbing your arms and sides in soothing motions that made you melt while praises of good girl and did so well spilled from his lips in between wet kisses pressed down your neck, all the while alhaitham kneads the plush of your thighs, laying sweet kisses along your knees and calves.

you were basking in euphoric love, tingling with every kiss they gave you and heard the thumping of heart beats following after each other, not knowing which belonged to who.

“okay, love,” alhaithams coos with one last kiss to your leg, “turn around, come on,” he pats your thigh signaling you to start moving, his other hand trying to help you turn around with ease.

“give her a second, you ass!” kaveh snaps at him, wrapping a protective arm around your shoulders to keep your still trembling figure in place.

alhaitham rolls his eyes before giving your thigh a rougher smack, smirking at kaveh when you moan out.

kaveh turns his focus towards you, a warm hand caressing your face, always speaking to you so much softer than he did to alhaitham. “angel, don't listen to him. you wanna take a break?”

his concern is so sweet it actually makes you laugh, breathless and happy, a sound that makes kaveh’s chest feel fuzzy and head a little dizzy. it affects alhaitham too, making his chest warm and his cock even harder, glad to know you’re enjoying yourself too.

“i’m okay, kaveh,” you try to sooth him with a kiss to his palm that still held your face. “i can handle him, i promise.” with a giggle, you hope he’ll believe you while beginning to twist around in his hold.

“but-!” kaveh starts but is quickly silenced when you press your lips to his, slow and passionate.

breaking the kiss, you whisper to him, like a secret shared just between the two of you, not meant for alhaitham to hear. “just follow his lead, kaveh. it'll feel so good when you do, i promise.” you kiss him again, your words melting into his lips. “let alhaitham take care of us, okay?”

his cock involuntarily twitches at the thought of letting alhaitham have complete control over the situation. he wants to be defiant, wants to yell out no! but he can't help the way it makes his stomach twist in the most delicious way.

and even if he didn’t want to voice it, he trusted you, trusted alhaitham.

swallowing thickly, cheeks blushing furiously, a color that looked so pretty on him, kaveh gives you a small nod.

behind you, alhaitham grabs at your hips leading you to shift further down on the bed and effortlessly you follow. he brings a palm to your cheek and turns your head to the side before capturing your lips in a dizzying kiss. sliding his tongue past your lips, he opens his eyes slightly to look down at kaveh to make sure he’s watching, all the while all you can focus on is alhaitham.

the amber of his eyes seem to glow and kaveh’s hands tremble slightly as he balls the bedsheets up in his fist, biting his cheek to hold in a snarky remark or to steel himself to not flinch away at alhaitham’s condescending glance.

taking a shaking breath in, kaveh starts to shift his weight to join the two of you until alhaitham speaks, breathing away from you but keeping you close to him, leaving you panting in his hold. “kaveh, stay.”

im not a dog! kaveh wants to yell out but his body betrays him by reacting immediately and staying put. he huffs out a breath in frustration but his throbbing cock tells alhaitham everything he needs to know.

he hadn’t expected kaveh to listen to him so easily but alhaitham was quite enjoying the fact that he had.

“good boy,” alhaitham viciously teases and kaveh can't help but bite his lip hard. trying to stop the whimper threatening to escape him, trying to ignore how his cock bounces from the strength of its twitches, precum pooling onto the sheets.

with one last kiss, deep and full of tongue, alhaitham has you moving back to face kaveh and grabbing your hips with the totally normal strength of a ‘feeble scholar’, folding you over ass up so his hips are flush with yours and with one hand alhaitham grabs the base of his cock, guiding it up and down your sensitive pussy over and over again.

you take kaveh’s aching dick into your hands, pumping him slowly, mouth watering at the thought of having his pretty cock in your mouth. “see, isn't it better?” you tease and kaveh sighs, bringing his hands up to delicately move your hair out of your face.

“i…im not answering that,” he grumbles, cheeks burning bright red but gods he can’t look away from you.

you giggle poking out your tongue to kitten lick at his swollen pink tip, kaveh drawing in a shuddering breath at the feeling of your warm breath and hot tongue on him.

“y-y/n, you really d-dont have to do th- mmph! w-wait! mmmh!”

kaveh’s hips buck and flinch, the stimulation all too much for his aching dick that hasn't been touched in what feels like hours, feeling harder than it ever had before tonight with both you and alhaitham here.

your sultry hums around his dick have him throwing his head back into the pillow, blonde hair cascading down the shoulders and over the plush pillows with a golden waterfall, relishing the way the vibrations mixed with your languid bobs, taking him into your mouth deep and deeper, have his head spinning.

both of you are so enraptured by each other, your head only filled with the way kaveh’s cock feels so good dragging across your tongue and the way his hands are so gentle pulling back your hair you're nowhere near prepared for alhaitham to shove his heavy cock into your tight hole. the force of his thrust causing you to surge forward in surprise, taking kaveh all the way deep in your throat.

he yells out in shocked and ecstasy, hitting the back of your throat and feeling it contract around him.

“a-ah! mmph-! alhaitham,wait! f-fuck!!” kaveh chokes out struggling to stabilize you to keep you from repeatedly surging forward, swallowing his cock whole.

“ ‘s fine,” alhaitham pants out, hips thrusting powerfully against you, his hands on your hips helping you fuck yourself back on him, silvery bangs sticking to his forehead but even through his messy hair he can see you both beneath him.

kaveh struggles to wrap his mind around the pace alhaitham’s set for all of you, deep and rough and fast than he can keep up with. tears dot his lashes as he tries to stop his fast coming orgasm at the feeling of your mouth taking him so perfectly, there’s no way he’ll last long like this.

“kaveh,” alhaitham said lowly, “don’t cum.”

looking up at him in shock, gasping for air while your still deep throating him, little chokes and moans around his length that barely fit all the way in your throat but his eyes nearly cross at the feeling of alhaitham bullying his thick cock into your cervix and kaveh’s twitching length slides all the way back in your throat, the deepest you’d taken him.

alhaitham feels your velvety walls tighten around his cock, squeezing him so tightly he had to force himself to hold back for just a little longer.

“‘haitham-” kaveh grits out through clenched teeth, trying to listen regardless.

“not until she does,” alhaitham breaths out, his thrusts slowly going off rhythm and kaveh feels it too. “gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” alhaitham coos at you, his tone so different from the way his cock is thrusting in and out of your cunt.

as if you could answer with your mouth full of kaveh but he knew you were close and brought you over the edge of bliss, reaching between your legs to rub at your clit as he pounds into you and feels you clench and squeeze around his cock so tightly he could hardly breath as he spills into you.

kaveh follows right after, not meaning to cum down your throat without asking but he hadn’t a moment to pull away or stop himself when you gagged and sucked him so sweetly and he didn’t know whos orgasm he was feeling the most, his own generously being swallowed by your pretty mouth, your own throbbing in your throat around him, alhaithams heavy lidded eyes looking down at him as he took deep heaving breaths.

gojiipink fics

genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist

#alhaitham #alhaitham smut #alhaitham x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #al haitham #al haitham x reader #al haitham smut #🌙.moonlight stories #kaveh #kaveh x reader #genshin x reader #kaveh smut

2K notes · View notes

velvet-n-lace · 2 months ago

Text

A Lemurian's Proposal 🩵🫧

Series: Love and Deepspace

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 3.4k words

Pairing: Lemurian Rafayel x Female MC (no pronouns mentioned)

Warnings and Tags: Porn with Plot, size kink, size difference, Lemurian Rafayel, breeding kink, ovipositing, double penetration, vaginal penetration, anal penetration, (spoilers) Rafayel has two dicks.

A/N: I feel kinda bad for posting this cuz Raf’s birthday gacha is so wholesome and… this isn’t, oh well :T

Under the setting sun by the shore, the sea breeze brushed against your face as you walked past a shallow lagoon. You saw him, a Lemurian man washed ashore and tangled in cheap fishing nets. You remembered him so clearly, his wide eyes locking onto yours as you cautiously stepped closer. You didn't want him to think you had set those traps.

You've heard the myths before: Lemurians could be two stories tall, their iridescent scales could shimmer even in deep waters, or their tears could harden into pearls. They were beings worth worshiping so long ago, yet seeing one up close was like stepping into a hidden mythology. This particular one had appeared in your dreams, so it was no wonder he looked so familiar. His tail flicked weakly in the shallow water, and in your rush to free him, you stumbled and fell against his broad chest.

A deep blush crept up his cheeks and ears, and you couldn’t help but admire his face; his eyes gleamed beneath his damp strands of purple hair. You could barely straddle his waist and held onto his firm muscles like they were your lifesaver. The thin line where the smooth, human skin faded into his shimmering blue tail caught your gaze, especially on that scaly slit, wondering what he had to offer in his anatomy.

Rafayel was his name. Hearing it come from his mellow voice was like sparks igniting; it was the name of an angel. As you were about to give your name, he quickly vanished into the waves as distant voices neared the shore.

Was he even real? Or just someone you dreamt of after a long day at the beach? Rafayel lingered in your mind day in and day out. His voice, gaze, and Lemurian form felt all too real to be a mere illusion. It even dawned on you that he said he came to the surface for a reason but disappeared into the waves before he could fulfill it.

It felt like forever since that day. You sat by the dock, gazing at the restless sea. The tides grew stronger as the sun dipped lower into the horizon. A look around confirmed that it was just you, the breeze, and maybe a few passersby enjoying the sunset. It was time to head home.

. . .

“Mortal.”

A familiar voice called you from behind. As you turned back, a tuft of purple hair emerged from the water, followed by those deep purple eyes you’ve been dreaming of.

“Rafayel!” You rushed back to the dock, dropping to your knees to get a good look at his face. “I never thought I’d see you again!”

“Keep your voice low,” he ordered gently yet firmly.

“Sorry,” you murmured, “but what are you doing here?”

He looked calmer, far from the frantic, distressful merman you freed from the nets weeks ago. His soft expression drew you closer, and his lips curled into a bright smile like he was your long-distance boyfriend.

“I brought you something. Come down here.” He gestured toward the shore below the dock. You followed him down to the sandy beach; your bare feet brushed against the cool, damp ground. The tide lapped gently at the shore, but you hesitated a bit.

“I don't want to get wet,” you laughed.

He let out a small, dramatic sigh. “But you are wearing a bathing suit. Also, I came all this way, and I suffered worse when I was washed up to shore in those filthy nets.” He pouted slightly before extending his hand. “Come, just for a moment.”

Ignoring such a request was impossible, like a siren’s call. You stepped forward, letting the water swirl up to your ankles. The breeze sent shivers down your spine, but Rafayel’s hand was warm in yours.

You sat on the damp shore under the dock, hidden from wandering eyes, while he knelt to your level. With careful hands, he lifted a delicate necklace with shells and pearls woven and arranged in an intricate pattern.

“You made this?” You asked in awe.

“Do you like it?” He asked.

“Yes. It’s beautiful.”

“May I?”

You nodded and adjusted your position so he could fasten the necklace at your nape. It gleamed under the setting sun, casting tiny reflections against your skin. It looked so small in his grasp, but it was the perfect size made just for you. Warmth crept up your cheeks as his fingers hovered over your neck.

“It looks beautiful on you,” he murmured, his lips grazing your shoulder in a feather-like touch. A shiver ran down your spine; it wasn’t from the breeze.

“I have more to tell you,” he continued, his voice growing lower, almost nervous, “but it may come as a shock.”

You turned to him, noticing his cheeks tinged with a faint blush.

“Let me hear it then,” you said, offering him a reassuring smile. “I doubt anything could shock me at this point.”

He took your hands in his; they were huge compared to yours but firm and desperate. His long, slim fingers tightened around yours, and his manicured nails pressed lightly against your skin.

“I’ve been searching for so long,” he murmured, “to find a woman who can carry my seed, one who will continue my legacy to the next generation.”

Your heart pounded, and the sudden announcement made everything go silent. Even the bashing waves grew around you, like the tide had come and swept you away.

“This necklace is my ‘proposal,’ as you humans call it, to breed you.”

Your eyes widened as his face was serious. Would you offer your body to him just like that? Just because he asked?

“I… um…” You were at a loss for words. That tight grasp on your hands kept clinging with desperate need until a few seconds passed.

“If you do not wish to breed with me, I will leave.” His voice was soft but filled with sorrow. “I apologize for coming all this way to offer you this.”

His fingers loosened their grip, and his body sank back into the sea.

“Wait! Come back!” you shouted, hoping he heard your cry. To your relief, his head popped back up. Before he could react, you dove into the water, crashing into his arms and sending you both tumbling in the waves. You held your breath hard as the water enveloped you. He caught you in his arms and pulled you back to the surface, gripping your soaked body close.

“I’ve waited far too long for you just to leave and never come back,” you proclaimed, gazing into his eyes, those endless, shimmering pools of vivid colors. You reached up, brushing a few droplets of seawater from his face. In the fading light, they sparked like flames against his skin.

“I don't know why, but you’ve captivated me since that day. I couldn't stop thinking about the moment I found you tangled up in those nets, so vulnerable and flustered…”

Your breath hitched as his hands held you steady, and his gaze landed on the seashell and pearl necklace he placed around your neck.

“This was meant to be; I never stopped thinking about you, mortal,” he murmured. “That’s why I swam up to shore the last time.”

Your heartbeat pounded like waves against the shore. His foreign yet familiar touch sent warmth flooding through your senses. Your hands traced where the smooth flesh met his iridescent blue scales.

“I’ve waited far too long,” he murmured again, laced with longing. He swam you back to shore to pin you to the sand underneath the dock. The thin outline where his skin and Lemurian tail met rubbed up against your thighs; the sand was coarse behind your back.

His tail, a shimmering blue, brushed against the shore. Your back arches like a bow, the grains of sand dug into your skin as you attempt to grind where his boner should be, but in place, there is only that scaly slit.

“Do you know how Lemurians breed?” He asked. You just shook your head.

“Then I will guide you through this new sensation, but let me know when you've had enough, for it can be too much for a mortal human like yourself.”

He hoisted you up, letting his forehead rest against yours; his lips were just out of reach. He stared into your eyes like a needy boyfriend. “Will you kiss me?”

You gave in to his request, and all that hesitancy faded in the distance. Your trembling hands ran up his neck, outlining each smooth scale as he kissed you back vigorously. His hands slid down your sides until his large thumbs knead your breasts through your bathing suit. That sweet kiss you loved so much only lasted for a while. Rafayel’s fangs nicked your lips, forcing his calloused tongue inside your mouth. He pushed you back into the sand the more his brutal kisses started to overtake your pleasure. His huge mouth could almost drown you already, probably swallow you whole if you let him. You squirmed beneath him and moaned the more he teased your clit with his finger.

You looked down, ready to glimpse at his fine package, only to let out a hard gasp. “AH!”

Spit strings clung to your lips as he pulled away; he caught you looking down at what sprang out from that scaly slit.

“Oh, are you surprised?” He asked, reaching down to grip them, “Never seen Lemurian cocks before?”

He expected you to recoil at the sight of them. His two iridescent cocks twitched in his hand, grabbing your attention and leaving you speechless. His tail flicked from the water like he suddenly reminded you of his species.

The sizes intimidated you, much less seeing two of them poking up and prodding at your thighs like tentacles; it left you wondering how you would take them.

“These are quite the sight…” You finally spoke up. Upon a further look, they were growing semi-hard already. 12 inches seemed to be a decent estimate, but inches grew as he stroked them. He grew relieved as you only stared in awe at his strange anatomy; at least you were not backing away.

He leaned closer to ask, “Do human men also possess such sights?”

You swallowed and nodded, “Not like yours.”

“Human males are not possessed with two members?”

“Nope, only one, and only at a certain length.”

“Fascinating,” he smirked proudly. His cocks continued to lengthen the more he rubbed them together; they were already slick from the seawater and leaking an inhuman amount of precum; you almost thought he came just making out with you.

“Well, mortal, you may touch them before I breed you.” He blushed as he approached you slowly.

His hands guide yours to his cocks, now fully erect and glistening with his natural lubrication. So smooth and soft, a subtle, warm pulse surged through them. As your fingers found their way to grip them, he let out his pleasured sigh. Your hands stroke both shafts in a steady rhythm, soon becoming erratic.

Shivers run down Rafayel’s spine, clearly enjoying your touch. Both his cocks twitch the more you quicken your pace; the smooth and silky texture of his scales and the firm yielding flesh beneath, his voice kept dripping with lust.

“Does it feel good?” You asked, and he nodded his head like a desperate pet.

“Mh~ Lemurian women are as tall as me; they can take both members at once.” He glanced down at you, imagining you easily taking both lengths. His body shivers again before positioning you beneath him. The sand scraped against the sand as the cool seawater brushes against your ass.

His two enormous, slick cocks hover mere inches from your face as he grinded them against your stomach and breasts. His precum was seeping into your bathing suit, already leaving it drenched. You peeled it off your body and tossed it aside, laying naked beneath him.

“You seem ready; prepare yourself,” he whispered as his cocks brushed against your inner thighs, leaving glistening trails on your skin. He positioned himself, his hands spread your thighs open, exposing your two holes. “Perfect,” he smirked.

“Both holes?” You gasped as he notched the dripping tips against your entrances. Your body instinctively tensed and resisted the penetrations.

"Shh, just relax," his voice a low, soothing rumble.

His members rubbed against your small, sand-coated holes possessively. Despite his natural lubrication, you still tensed up as they poked and prodded at your skin like soft kisses.

He gripped your thighs and spread them wider, notching one thick head against your dripping cunt, and to your surprise, your tense body arched as he slid in with ease. You underestimated how well you could take one 12 inch Lemurian cock. If only he could slam it all at once to make you squeal; the thought of it was tempting, but your painful whimpering had him thinking twice.

Once fully sheathed, he paused, allowing you to adjust to the intrusion. He kept an eye on your face, gauging your desperate cries as you struggled with his massive size. Each second it throbbed and pulsated through the inner walls of your cunt.

“Breathe, mortal,” he groaned, “that’s one down.” He gripped his other cock, ready to prod at your forbidden opening.

He ignored your desperate cries as he tried pushing his tip past your ring of muscle. It only contracted in protest at his massive size before he grabbed your ass and spread you wider. The overwhelming dual penetration had you clenching him harder as his cock slowly inched deeper into your anal walls.

With one more powerful thrust of his hips, he forced both massive members deep into your quivering depths simultaneously. If you hadn't covered your mouth, you would have screamed loud enough for someone to hear.

His scaly slit rested against your stretched holes; they grind slowly letting it stimulate your clit. At each soft thrust, that obscene bulge in your stomach had you gasping for air.

“Mortal, how do you feel?” He struggled to say. He held you in place as you tried desperately to get used to his size, but little by little, that pain you were squealing over was beginning to dwindle. Your breathing was calm as the lengths seemed to relax you despite them pulsing in your warm flesh.

“Calm now, yes? Haha, my precum, as you call it, offers itself as a natural aphrodisiac once inside my mate.”

“Oh… I see.” The size is still overwhelming; it poked at your cervix like it wanted to go deeper. You ran your hands down your stomach, feeling it bulging from inside you. The one nestled in your ass was pulsing with anticipation like a time bomb. Even as the aphrodisiac coursed through your body, your sensitive flesh scraped against the sand.

You find his eyes again; all glazed over with lust the more he fucked that aphrodisiac deep in your system. That pain faded into the sea as he rocked his hips in a slow, deliberate rhythm. First one inch, then two, until you were moaning for more and tightening around him.

“Rafayel… Fuck…” You cried out as his thrusting grew harder. The scaly outline of his cocks dragged against your sensitive flesh, and every ridge and vein coursed through your velvety walls. As you dug your fingers into the shifting sand, the tide was beginning to rise, letting wet, slapping flesh mix with your guttural moans.

That bitter pain you were so dependent on for safety became nonexistent. If it weren’t for your competitively smaller body, you’d order Rafayel to destroy you to the point that someone might just break.

“Right there!” You gasped hard and inhaled your intermingling heat; after a groan of confirmation, he relentlessly hit that G-spot like his life depended on it. He broke your mind; he'd destroy both precious holes next.

"You love these new sensations my massive Leumurian cocks give you?" He asked, but you only nodded back.

His eyes roll back as your admission, jolts of euphoria had him nailing your womb and asshole brutally.

"Say it, say you love them better than a human male’s cock!" He demanded.

“Yeah! So much better!! Ah~” Your jumbled responses had him reeling; only stranded words of lust rippled from your drooling mouth. Rafayel had been careful before, but even he underestimated the pleasure Lemurians give to their mate. Your body greedily swallows his thick, gelatinous mounds of precum like you’ve been thirsting for it for centuries, overflowing in you like a flood.

"Do you hear that? Your sweet human holes stretched around me?" He growled. His tail splashed a bit for better leverage.

His members swell thicker inside, pumping countless ropes of thick, pearlescent seed into your belly. "You're taking it all, aren't you? My entire brood would fit inside your human stomach!"

“Yeah, I’m ready for that.” You moaned back.

“Yeah? Are you ready for my eggs?”

“Eggs?!”

He nodded and snarled possessively; his massive body kept you locked in place and indeed a bulge began to widen deep in your cunt. With a forceful pulse, it would all unleash like a bursting dam. An extra mass pushed past your folds and his engorged shaft. It popped out with a wet squelch, and a rush of fluids gushed from your overfilled holes. His first egg rested inside your womb, ensuring maximum fertility.

It was a new feeling having something nestled inside you. Despite your trembling state, he continued rutting into you with reckless abandon. Just a glance up at his face and he was drowning in euphoria, the pace increasing like he was experiencing a human climax.

“That’s one; please bear it longer!” He warned.

Another slimy egg emerged from his shaft; this one slid deeper into your womb, nestling between the first and your cervix. Each egg had Rafayel moaning like a needy boy, and by the third one, you're already looking pregnant.

“The rest are going down here.” He gripped your ass and lifted your body slightly, pressing his hips against you. His engorged cock expanded as two slippery eggs popped out from his cock, letting both nestle in your ass.

He held down your spasming body filled to the brim with his spawn. Some had begun slipping out even with his cock still buried deep inside. He’d lost count by that point, but he knew damn well your body could only handle just as much as a Lemurian woman.

Your quivering walls loosen around his shafts, milking out the last drops of his creamy seed.

“Ahh~” He sighed of relief, placing his hand on your stomach, marking you as his breeding vessel. "You're mine now... forever..."

You could feel the heat of his release flooding your insides, your stomach visibly distending from the sheer volume.

He panted heavily above you, his massive body still shuddering from the intense orgasms he'd had. A lazy smirk spread across his handsome face as he felt his eggs shifting inside your stuffed holes. "Congratulations, mortal. A Lemurian has bred you.”

His smirk widened as he watched your stomach bulge even more, the eggs expanding and growing inside of you. "You're now carrying my children... and you'll keep them warm for several months."

He pulled out softly, his massive members still throbbing as ropes of white hung from your gaping, dripping holes. His cocks, now half-flaccid, spill some remaining seed like a gardening hose.

You looked up at him, laying there on the sandy shore, all spent in a puddle of sperm and seawater. The tides swam up to your hips, and the sun finally set in the distance. Even in the twilight, Rafayel’s eyes and beautiful face ignited your vision. That necklace he gave you still sparkled like the sun.

He pulled you close to his chest, his massive arms encircling you protectively as the gentle laps of the shore and your heavy breathing echoed in your ears. Your body was sore and aching, practically on the verge of birthing, but deep contentment washed over you, mingling with the afterglow of your intense mating. You rested your head on his broad shoulder, feeling his steady heartbeat thrumming beneath your cheek.

"Mine... you're mine now..."

He noticed your blush and gently nipped your earlobe with his sharp fangs. "Your scent has already changed. Carrying my offspring suits you."

He laid a gentle kiss over your lips. His hand wrapped around your waist, holding you possessively, sensing the now-developing eggs implanted in your body. "Do humans... usually like being bred by inhuman beings?"

“Hah, I only speak for myself.” You nodded and smiled.

A deep, pleased rumble echoes in his chest at your admission. "Good... because you're mine now, mortal. My mate, my breeder, and my everything." He captured your lips in a soft, possessive kiss, sealing your eternity.

#divider by @cafekitsune #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads smut #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #lads rafayel #rafayel lads #rafayel x reader #rafayel x mc #rafayel x you

222 notes · View notes