#i want to stay by your side. YOU want me by your side! and YET......
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his necklace- sylus x reader
pairing: sylus x fem! reader cw: MDNI ,p in v genre: smut + drabble a/n: i saw a post of someone saying imagine his necklace dangling over you while he's on top of you and i dunno where it went bc my feed REFRESHED so it's inspo from that as well and from the new four star memory ! enjoy reading ! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
you looked so perfect like this you’re a babbling and moaning mess, splayed out below him. your adorable whines that escape your lips that begged for more and motivates him to help you get off. and who is he to say no to your plea?
fuck if he could stay in like this forever he would. a picture or a video of you two fucking wouldn’t compare to what he’s feeling right now. he doesn’t want to leave the warmth of your pussy. you were so warm, so soft and your walls fluttered him so perfectly.
he held your hand in his while his cock stretched you out, lowering himself down on you everytime you whimpered or moaned out for him. “that’s it, such a pretty girl” he coos, his thumb caressing your soft skin, soothing you as he watches you become more of a mess under him.
you're underneath him, seeing all of his muscles flex as his necklace dangles over your face. his chain, bouncing with each thrust into you. that necklace. one of the jewelry he ones that he treasures, only a few could ever own. your name engraved on it so wherever he goes, a part of you is with him always.
his brow was creased and lined with sweat. his face was knotted in concentration and pleasure to get you both to reach your high again. his sweat rolling down to your body, but you don’t mind. both of you were lightly glistening with each other's sweat while your skin was littered with his soft kisses.
his hands, still entwined with yours, pressed yours further into the mattress as he sped up his thrusts. he let out a breathy chuckle followed along with a smirk seeing your cock drunk face, drool sliding down the corners of your mouth.
with a quick, yet passionate kiss and a violent jerk of his hips, hot and creamy spurts of his cum fills you to the brim. your legs are shaking, his cum dripping down your inner thighs as you cum for who knows what round this was. neither of you were counting.
“i know i know, you did so well for me sweetie,” your eyelids are heavy with exhaustion, and sylus can tell. “let me clean you up baby.” he hums, leaving your side for a moment and returning with your favorite shirt of his as he softly cleans the mess between your thighs.
the smell of him will never leave you from how often he’s always on you. and that’s exactly how he would want it, he wouldn’t want it any other way.
#sylus x reader#sylus x you#sylus x y/n#sylus love and deepspace#sylus lads#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#sylus l&ds#sylus lnd#sylus imagine#sylus smut#lads sylus#sylus#lnds sylus#l&ds sylus#sylus qin#love and deep space x reader#love and deep space#love and deepspace fic#lads x you#lads x reader
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hot n’ heavy
18+. mdni. smut. breeding kink if you squint! exhusband!eddie
part two to yours, forever! i truly believe they would have three sons and one little girl that comes after r’s second divorce🤭 the p3 to this is my favourite however, i have some pornstar!eddie is reallyyyy want to get out before it’s posted hehe. pls ignore any mistakes i am so tired
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
eddie hadn’t ever lied about you still being the only woman in his life, he’d dated around after the divorce but had never, ever found anyone that came close to you.
he does suppose that you were together for fourteen years. he feels like at that point, you were stuck together for life.
and yet, he can’t fucking wait.
sat on one of wayne’s loungers just waiting for you to walk through that gate and spot her.
he’d sorta been seeing ashley for the past couple months or so, mostly just hooking up during those dry spells where you were content with your marriage.
wayne’s annual barbecue was coming up and so he’d had the bright idea to ask her along, truthfully just to get you talking to him again.
nice girl, pretty too but he knew you’d be furious.
the kids bounce through the yard first, barely saying hi to eddie first before clambering on top of wayne as they usually did.
you shuffle through next, the far-too-short dress sitting just around your thighs, a blatant attempt at garnering his attention. though you were no match for him, eddie had the petty game nailed down since 1998. from the moment you’d handed him those divorce papers, he’d taken it upon himself to piss you off as much as humanly possible.
you haven’t realised yet, made obvious by the wide smile on your face. giving half-assed hugs to the various members of his family that sprawled around the garden, waiting for him last.
but you don’t hug him, standing in front of the lounge chair with a frown, looking his outfit up and down. “i didn’t realise you were coming,” you quip.
fucking lie.
your dress wouldn’t have been half as revealing if you’d actually thought he wasn’t going to be here.
eddie scoffs, sitting up in his chair, “why wouldn’t i be?” cocking his head to the side, waiting for the perfect moment to introduce ashley.
“oh i don’t know, thought you’d be too busy pretending you can play guitar,” shrugging sweetly, but not backing off.
his eyes narrow, biting his tongue to unleash the true beast, “have you met ashley?” gesturing towards the young blonde with a side smirk from hell, “she’s been so excited to meet the kids!”
your brows furrow, lip curling in disgust. he loves even more that you don’t try to hide it, practically retching in front of her face.
sharp eyes flicker over to her, “nice to meet you.. ashley,” but your hand doesn’t extend for her to shake, instead you flounce off without waiting for her reply.
“dave not here?” eddie jeers, holding the cool bottle of beer just before his snarling lips.
“he’s at work,” you snap back, “you know what that is?” snarky in all your glory, sitting on the furthest, most opposite chair you could find.
that’s alright, he can almost see right up your dress from here, purposely no doubt.
wayne must have found that hilarious, bursting into a maniacal laughter, never on the side of his own flesh and blood.
pfft.
whatever.
it wouldn’t be long before your dress was bunched up against your hips and-
“-eddie?” ashley barks from beside, snapping him out of maladaptive wet daydream, “can you show me the bathroom?” batting her eyelashes.
holy fuck. the regret of ever inviting her had began to seep in, because in actuality, it had done absolutely nothing worthwhile in making you jealous.
he nods, concealing the annoyance on his face by clearing his throat, guiding the poor girl past his relatives judging eyes and into the house.
she grabs ahold of his hand, trying to pull him into the bathroom alongside of her. blinking rapidly when he stays put.
“my kids are here,” he whispers, yanking his hand back, “i really can’t,” he could, he had a hundred times. just not with her.
she pouts, dropping her shoulders in a huff, quickly pulling the door closed as eddie rushes off outside again. he couldn’t have you thinking he was screwing around with her now.
your eyes follow him from the door to his seat, wayne leaning over to whisper not-so-quietly about him.
he can read something along the lines of midlife crisis, wayne’s bellowing laugh after pretty much solidifies that theory. eddie’d be much more angry if he didn’t find it so endearing, wayne loved you more than eddie did, he was certain of that.
wayne pats your shoulder before sending a sharp glance at eddie, a warning sign he’d seen, and ignored, many a times.
-
an hour of meaningless banter and fake affection later, eddie finds his opportunity.
you had disappeared off under the guise of helping in the kitchen, but he knows it’s an invite of sorts. you weren’t as nonchalant as you thought you were, sliding your gaze over his and then immediately at the open door.
a blind man could’ve picked up on that for christ sake.
he saunters off through the door, no doubt you were in there messing about with the salads or doing the dishes like you normally did. the garden is too loud for anyone to realise anyway, he figures he’s got a good fifteen minutes before anyone questions where you’ve both gone.
you glance up at him walking through the door but choose not to speak, plating up the anaemic looking potato salad his aunt had made.
“you not speaking to me today?” standing on the opposite side of the island, picking at the bowl of chips.
“i have nothing to say to you,” turning up your nose to continue dumping the grey slop into a bowl.
“that’s a lie,” eddie chuckles, leaning over the marbled counter, “i know you have loads of things you want to say to me today.”
you look up briefly, staring daggers into his soul, “why don’t you go back outside with your little girlfriend and leave me alone?”
eddie sighs rather sarcastically, “one, not my girlfriend and two, i’d rather be in here with you,” walking his fingers over the counter towards you.
you scoff, but he knows you’re not serious because if you were, you’d have thrown the spoon at his head and laughed as it got tangled in his curls.
“c’mon,” he beckons, nodding towards the stairs.
when wayne had announced that he’d be selling the trailer in favour of a house, eddie think he physically jumped for joy.
living with wayne and a pregnant you in that tiny metal box had began to drive him utterly insane, especially once wayne had retired and he had an approximate five minute window to have sex every day.
you glance out of the window, making sure that no one would follow you up the stairs, before sighing and begrudgingly trailing behind him.
“don’t worry, they won’t even notice,” slipping into the box room and shutting the door as discreetly as possible.
to be honest, you’d lived in this room just as long as he had, it was yours as much as it was his. some of your posters still stay stuck to the walls, pictures of the two of you that you’d framed still linger.
eddie waits with baited breath for you to start, prepared for the inevitable rant that was just bubbling to fall out of your lips.
you stand poised at the other side for he room, hands on hips, ready to scold, “you’re seriously pathetic if you think bringing some kid would make me jealous,” clicking your tongue against your teeth, eyes flicking up and down his casual stature.
there it is.
the tirade of insults he’s been waiting for all night.
“i fucking knew that’d work,” guffawing loudly, “you’re so angry and i love it,” swigging his beer with far too much confidence.
“i’m not angry, i’m disgusted. there’s a difference,” crossing your arms firmly over your chest.
“oh please,” rolling his eyes, “you’re married for fuck sake,” placing the bottle on his old dresser, the fun was just about to begin.
“yeah. i am,” you nod, the deep furrow of your brow only exciting him further, “to someone my own age, not some fucking teenager.”
“she’s twenty three, actually,” in such a matter-of-fact tone that it makes you seethe, launching forward to twist his collar between your fingers.
“you disgust me,” eyes like slits and a snarl that some rottweilers would be jealous of.
“isn’t it a bit late for you to start lying like this?” a heavy hand meets your back, pressing your body into his as your heartbeats collide.
“fuck you,” moving forward to connect your lips the same time he does, an angry battle that consists of guttural growls and an animalistic need to dominate the kiss.
“just ask me next time sweets,” grabby with his hands as they get comfy on your hips, performing a waltz around the tiny bedroom floor to lie your body sideward on the edge of the bed, legs wrapping tight around his back.
“everyone’s here,” you breathe, glancing warily towards the window, “what if they hear?”
“pssht, not like we’ve never done this before,”
this bedroom had once witnessed the most explicit things all the while wayne was downstairs and hopefully oblivious.
eddie’s hand glides over your thigh and under your dress, lifting higher until it’s bunched up at your hips, just as he’d pictured.
“wear these for me?” he remarks, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your deliberately worn lacy panties.
“mhm,” lifting your hips as they come down, hanging off of your ankle.
he breaks apart for what feels like too long, rushing to get his belt unbuckled and his jeans down, before hoisting your calves onto his shoulder, your knees damn near touching your ears as he comes down on top.
“jesus christ eds, i’m not twenty five anymore,” gripping onto his forearm for leverage.
eddie scoffs, running the leaking head of his cock from your clit to your hole, delighted with the way you shiver and whine.
he sighs as his cock slides in, taking one last glance at the window, he wouldn’t last long anyway, not in this position.
“fuucking hell,” you breathe, tightening your grip on his quivering arms, letting your eyes fall shut.
he’s messy, sloppy in the way his hips move, pressed flat against your glistening cunt. if this didn’t get you pregnant, he gives up.
“i like it when you’re jealous,” he pants, brushing the stray strands of hair from your sticky forehead to get a good glimpse of your fluttering eyes.
your nails dig further into his skin, it’d probably hurt if he weren’t balls deep inside of you, “fuck off,” your insults punctuated by the slick sounds of your body’s meeting.
he moves slow, grunting each time his tip nudges against your sweet spot. fuck. the downright pornographic noises of your pussy wrapped him makes him animalistic with need.
schlickschlickschlick in time with the old mattress and his balls slapping against your ass.
your hands move up above your head, helplessly grabbing at the blanket, fingers untwining in the fabric.
“ohmygod yes,” head thrown back against the mattress, seemingly no longer bothered about the family gathering just outside.
despite being an incoherent babbling mess, your eyes meet his, “don’t.. ever bring her here again,” your whines becoming too loud to hear your words clearly.
eddie slaps his palm over your drooling mouth, but he nods, more than happy to comply if it meant he could fuck you like this every time.
“only did it.. to make you jealous,” losing his momentum, the churning in his stomach becoming too much to carry on.
you’re too fucked out to reply, whimpering into his palm, the bedsheets twisted between your fingertips. if no one had heard you, it would be nothing short of a miracle, your gasps only partly muffled by his hand.
you clench around his cock, calves trembling upon his skin while your hips move on their own, cumming around his cock, his sweaty palm working overtime to silence your loud mouth.
eddie doesn’t last much longer, biting down onto his lower lip so he doesn’t alert the whole house to your precarious position.
he’s shaking, collapsing on top of you as his seed paints your walls, saying a silent prayer that this time is the time.
“oh.. fuck,” he heaves, sloppily pumping his hips into your leaking cunt before pulling out completely, well aware that you had ran over the fifteen minute allotted time slot he had given you.
wayne would have noticed a whole ten minutes ago, surely waiting to make his snarky comments.
he lets go of your mouth, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before getting up and as a gentleman does, slides your panties back up and your skirt down.
it filled eddie with far too much satisfaction to know you’d have to walk downstairs with a skewed walk and a pussy full of his cum, everybody else none the wiser.
“don’t walk down together,” you bite, running frantic fingers through your unkempt hair, attempting to clean the smudged outline of your lipstick.
“nobody’s gonna care,” re-buttoning his jeans as he takes a smug sip of warm beer.
you spin on your heel, shooting daggers at his grinning eyes, “your girlfriend might,” and with that you’re gone, slipping out of the door in a cloud of tangled hair and creased fabric.
god, he loves you.
far more than should be allowed for two people who are divorced.
it was wise for you to go down first, you were a much better liar than eddie ever was.
he makes a slow walk downstairs, his belt clinking rather conspicuously as he pulls it tight.
wayne stands in the shadows at the bottom, waiting until he’s close to make him piss his pants before speaking, “i don’t even wanna know,” shaking his head at his petulant nephew, “don’t ever leave me with that girl again,” a warning, but his eyes are soft, almost cracking as the pieces click into place in his brain.
“i wasn’t.. i didn’t do anything,” but his twitching lips give him away, “and i’m gonna take her home, don’t worry,” trying to shuffle past wayne unscathed.
his uncle reaches out, smearing his thumb across eddie’s chin, “you left your fuckin’ lipstick on, dumbass,” only half-disappointed in his nephew, because eddie, and everybody out in that garden knows wayne’d be the first person to celebrate the two of you getting back together.
he, rather unsuccessfully, suppresses his grin, walking into the kitchen like he was the luckiest man alive.
you stand at the counter, back to him, poking holes into juice boxes, your hair a sudden nest and your dress sitting higher than it had before. anyone would think you’d been doing something you shouldn’t.
he slides up right behind you, “i’m gonna go take her home.. are you staying?” hand threatening to creep under your dress again.
“yeah, we’ll be here,” you confirm without ever looking up.
“i’ll come back then,” he didn’t want to be here without you, you’d done these things as a pair for long that it felt disrespectful to ever entertain the idea of doing it alone.
as he turns, he meets wayne’s eye who had either been stood watching the entire time or had only seen his hand grab your ass, either way it wasn’t great.
his uncle’s eyes say enough, silent in both their judgement and approval.
eddie shrugs, walking back into the garden with a terribly hidden smirk and a sickening excitement to get back and see you again.
#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fanfic#ex husband!eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson angst#if you squint#eddie munson x reader
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You've expressed how I watch movies (in a pretty pendantic way that sounds like it makes it hard to be a movie watching friend of yours), but I think that's only one way.
My wife is always asking me to tell her the things the movie is supposed to make you wonder and anticipate finding out. I absolutely hate spoilers and give answers as cagey as I can get away with, which drives her crazy too.
Some of it is not engaging fully with the story in the way that it's meant to be due to lack of practice of the skill, some because English is not her first language and she honestly misses important things so she's never fully sure if she missed something or it's something we haven't learned yet. But also I think there's a disconnect in our cultural approaches.
I watch movies by politely staying quiet and paying direct attention, but seeing her watch movies with her family, it's a much more participative and communal experience for them. You cheer when something good happens, you cringe when something bad happens, you discuss what's happening while it's happening and before it happens.
So sometimes she's asking me questions because she wants me to answer them, but I think sometimes she's asking questions because she wants the movie to answer them, and verbalizing those questions is how she expresses her engagement.
Remember: as satisfying as a good reveal is the first time, going back to find what you missed in previous viewings is a heartier overall experience. Some people just aren't wired for the hit of the pieces falling into place and just want to skip straight to sucking the dramatic irony marrow.
Side note: this aversion to sitting with the curiosity isn't as generational as the Netflix Effect theory would imply. My mother likes to read books by reading the first page, then the last page, then the first chapter, then the last chapter, and then if the ending seems satisfying, skipping around the middle until she's read it all. She hates waiting to find out the answers almost as much as my wife. And cozy mysteries are her favorite genre.
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JUNO - Bucky Barnes
Authors Note: Gah, here we go again with the bucky fics since he looked so damn good in that trailer! Enjoy!
Word Count: 4215
Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT.....and more smut.
Requests: OPEN
Main Masterlist ~ ~ Halloween 2024 Event
[Thank you for the gif @ayo-edebiri ]
Enjoy!
“Don't have to tell your hot ass a thing
Oh yeah, you just get it
Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit
God bless your dad's genetics, mm, uh”
-
You were a terrible terrible person, this was a fact. It would be put on whatever wikipedia page they made for villains as soon as people figured it out, which considering the rage building in your body would be any moment now. Why were you a terrible person? That’s easy to explain.
There was a time where everyone avoided your boyfriend like the plague, when the Winter Soldier cliche had been stuck to his image like a nail in a tire and everyone treated him like crap. And who stayed by his side? You. Not that it was ever about keeping score because you just wanted what was best for him. But now that people are all about kissing his ass since he had some new found fame? You wished things would go back to the way they were. And that made you a terrible person.
Who would want things to go back when your love was treated terribly?
But then you see girls like Montana clinging to his side and that little green monster in the pit of your stomach begins growing and growing until it leads to moments like now, with you standing at the bar clutching your glass like it was the only thing tethering you to this earth.
Yet another gala was being thrown, this time it was ‘Rockstars for Schooling Funds’ and Bucky was required to attend for PR. And attend your man did. The jacket, the tie, the pushed back hair and the hot ass glare.
From the second you saw him ready for tonight you were ready to pull him into the bedroom and never leave, your skin grew hot just remembering the feeling of his hands roaming your body as you tried to lead him into the bedroom. He obviously didn’t fall for it and now you were here watching Montana hold onto his arm as she laughed at something he said.
As if sensing your glare he turns to catch your eye, and you know that he was surveying your safety by the sharp look in his eyes and all you can think was ‘God bless your dads genetics’. But you refuse to break for him, so you shrug and turn back to the bar ready to order yourself another drink.
Best thing about wearing a dress like the one you were wearing tonight? Attention. Within seconds the men at the bar were clamoring to buy you a drink, crooked smiles and lame pick up lines. The prized contender? The southern man with kind eyes wearing his very own black cowboy hat.
This could be fun.
“What’ll it be?” He drawls and you have to fight off the blush filling your cheeks just at the sound of it.
“Hmm, I haven't decided yet.” You flirt, batting your lashes for a second. “Think you can help a girl out?”
“There’s the ‘Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy’.” He reads off the little menu, looking up to you from under his hat, giving a smooth wink and you huff out a small laugh.
“Would it be worth my time?”
“It’s the best on the menu from what I can see.” As if on cue you both look out to the crowd around you at the gala, with loud music and cheesy rockstar costumes, and whilst he is trying to make a point your eyes roam for a familiar head of hair. But the group that Bucky had been sitting with for the past 30 minutes was now short a member, your man. “Who would want to waste time with any of these cruds when you could have a real drink sugar?”
But the words were lost on you as your eyes traced over the room in a hurried panic. Where did he go?
But then your nose fills with a familiar woodsy scent as a familiar arm wraps around your waist in a tight grip that has the cowboy standing straight up in his own panic.
“Yeah Doll, how bout a real drink?”
-
“You make me wanna make you fall in love
Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah
Wanna try out my fuzzy pink handcuffs?
Oh, I hear you knockin', baby, come on up”
-
That little green monster building in your stomach? Now she had a fire pal burning straight through your skin at the image of the icy glare Bucky managed to send in the cowboys direction, the fingers on your waist tightening and digging into your skin.
“I was just talking to my friend here about drinks.” You hum out, watching his jaw tighten as he continues to glare. “What do you know about drinks?”
The cowboy, who you now knew to be a foolish man since he still stood in that spot, lets out a smooth chuckle. “Considering he’s holding an old fashioned I would say not much, Sugar.”
“Really? I always thought that the old fashioned ways worked in seduction. At least they did for me.” Bucky all but growls out, pulling you closer to him. “Now how bout we ask the gal. Do my old fashioned ways work?”
As if to prove his point he presses his thigh between your legs just a notch and squeezed at your waist, you were lost.
“No words? Hmm? Interesting.” He smiles, “Think you need a break from the crowd?”
He doesn’t waste time waiting for an answer, rather he keeps his grip on your waist as he leads you through the large gala, keeping the glare on his features that has people backing away to avoid his anger. You however basked in it, and as he lead you into the bathroom with the slam of the door and an easy movement to lock the door.
You got right to work, hopping onto the counter and wiggling a bit as he turns back to you.
You look up at him through you lashes, kicking one foot out a bit to expose your leg to him. “I mean not that I don’t love this vibe, we didn’t pack the handcuffs baby.”
“Oh so the pretty girl thinks she’s funny.” He chuckles, stepping forward and moving his hands to the top of your thighs to squeeze before pulling you forward harshly. “In case you haven’t realized it, this is the moment where you start giving me reasons to give you what you so badly want.”
Words failed you as his palms roamed your skin, rubbing soft circles to begin pushing up your dress.
“Oh, I’m the one in trouble here?” You huff, leaning back as he pushed his way in between your thighs. “Funny, here I was thinking of granting you mercy.”
“Oh that’s how we are playing it, huh?” And just like that he is pressing the pad of his flesh thumb right onto your core, pulling a sharp gasp from you as you tried to close your legs out of instinct only for him to press you down with his metal hand. “You were saying, sugar?”
“Oh…” You moan, back arching as he circles his thumb with a smug smile, leaning into you to pull your lips into a fervent kiss. It draws your breath until your gasping into him for air, your hands woven into his hair to keep him there and save you all in the same go while he teases at pulling your panties down only to pull back in a matter of seconds leaving you there to try and catch your breath.
Seconds away from achieving your high only to be left stranded leaves you whining and leaning forward to get him back into your arms.
He tsks at you, pushing you back gently as you continue whining.
“What will you give me?”
“Anything.” You gasp out, kissing at the wrist of the hand holding you back, nipping at the flesh of it as you reach for him metal arm to pull you back in. He gives in a little, allowing you to press your hips into his so release some of the pressure. “Please baby.”
“Then how about you behave for the last hour, and we’ll go home and get you sorted. Yeah?”
“Fine,” You snip out, tracing your hand up his metal arm before making it to his collarbone and pressing your hips further into his. “I’ll be good. I promise.”
-
“I know you want my touch for life
If you love me right, then who knows?
I might let you make me Juno
You know I just might”
-
And you feel like a fool for making that promise as he leads you through the crowd once more, this time with a pressure begging to be released in your lower belly as he keeps his metal hand on your lower back. The chill of the metal while your body is ablaze has you reeling, reaching a hand back to keep a hold on him.
You think of all the things he can do to you as he talks with the Galas president, digging your nails into the sleeve of his tux as you push your thighs together a bit, leaning your nose into him to inhale his scent as he talks with a bold presence.
When that Montana girl comes back you learn that she is an assistant for the program and that little green monster leads you to nip at his ear in front of her before kissing at his neck to leave a lipstick mark.
He looks at you for a moment, leaning in to give you a peck on the lips before turning to talk to her some more but it’s too late, you’re already in a haze. The green monster and the red flame have mixed to make their very own monster.
So you pull him in by his tie, pressing your lips to his ear and whispering the words you knew would break him. “Gimme me a baby.”
-
“Let you lock me down tonight
One of me is cute, but two though?
Give it to me, baby
You make me wanna make you fall in love (Oh)”
-
It was the one secret weapon you’ve never used, but have always known about.
Back in the beginning of the relationship while you were learning the ins and outs of eachother you noticed how much he loved the pill since it hadn’t been too popular back in his day. He loved the freedom it gave him to mark you as his, but you also noticed the lingering gaze on your stomach and or the intent look he gave when you took the pill.
But you had never been ready for a kid, you wanted to save that for that someone special who you could raise them with. But you knew that Bucky was it, you knew that he was your touch for life. Why not give in?
And the thrill of giving in the second his eyes meet yours makes it worth it, seeing the heat as he pulls you in so tight you might as well be one person.
“Come on baby, one of me is cute but two though?” You whisper, leaning up to bite at his lip before his hands come up to pull you into a feral kiss as he begins to lead you out the doors.
-
“I showed my friends, then we high-fived (Ah-ah)
Sorry if you feel objеctified (Ah-ah)
Can't help myself, hormonеs are high
Give me more than just some butterflies”
-
“Easy there.” He grunts out the second you press him into the seats of the limo, straddling him with ease as your nails rake down his chest to begin tracing the buttons of his shirt. “I might feel objectified.”
“I don’t give a shit,” You gasp, ripping his shirt open before attacking his chest with kisses. You take to kissing his chest, dragging your lips from spot to spot in order to mark him as much as you can as he pulls you down to move his hips into your with a groan.
Your eyes flutter closed at the heat that crosses through your body at the sound, whining out a bit as he begins to grind into you, pulling you up from his chest with a swift pull to lock your lips together as the limo makes a turn.
The kiss was feral, teeth gnashing, thigh clenching kiss that has you gripping his shoulders and pushing your hips into his a little quicker. Biting down onto his lip when he stills your hips with his hands before pulling back.
“You gonna let me lock you down?” He whispers, rubbing your hip as he moves you with ease until your legs are splayed over his lap and he can reach between them to pull more moans from you. “Gonna let me keep you forever?”
“Yes….” You whine out the second he begins rubbing at your core once more, this time with the metal hand. The chill of the metal over the fabric is driving you crazy and you press your hips up for more pressure and as a sign you want the panties off.
He is quick to oblige, pulling his hand to the waistband of them and ripping them off in one easy movement before pushing his fingers back to ease one into your center. “I’ll give you anything you want. But you already knew that when you said I could give you a baby. Didn’t you?”
And just like that he pushes two more fingers in, curling them in a fluid motion as his lips press into the pressure point of your throat. He works his fingers in a fast paced motion as you close your eyes and give into the feeling, letting him suck and bite at your neck as much as he wanted to.
And once you reach your high he merely speeds up his movements until your shaking in his lap.
“Atta girl.” He grunts, pulling his fingers up to suck on while you blink at him, still shaking from that orgasm.
“I love you.” You murmur to him, leaning on for a gentle kiss. He laughs into it, rubbing at the back of your neck in a sweet gesture before putting your torn panties in his pocket and looking to see how close you are to home.
-
“You make me wanna make you fall in love
Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah
Wanna try out some freaky positions?
Have you ever tried this one?”
-
The calm ease he had built up for the rest of the limo ride was quick to vanish the second the limo pulled up to the curb, pushing the door open and pulling you out so quickly your legs swing until he pulls you up so you can wrap them around his waist. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” You giggle, letting him carry you inside until the front door closes and he can set you down to lock it. Even in the mix of all this he can never slack on your safety, and you were sure that once he spent all your energy he would come down here for one last safety check.
You let him do what he needed to do, walking to the kitchen with a fleeting look to him before grabbing a glass of water to sip on while you waited, legs still a little shaky. But you don’t have much time since he comes around the corner into the kitchen, leaning on the fridge with a small smile as he watches you every movement.
“Everything locked up and safe?” You ask, moving one step closer to him.
“Yes.” He responds, the deep voice causing a shiver to move down your spine as he takes a step similar to yours without taking his eyes off you.
“I think it’s so hot you know.” One of his eyebrows raise at your words, the small smile turning into a smirk. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone in this world as protective as you.”
He merely hums back, taking another step closer as his eyes roam over your body. “Yeah?”
“Mmhmm. And I was thinking that you deserved an award.”
“I do?” You almost laugh at how innocent the question comes out, but you don’t have time since your already turning to press yourself into the counter, pushing your hips out and pulling your dress up to expose yourself to him as he audibly growls. “Have we every tried this before?”
-
“I know you want my touch for life
If you love me right, then who knows?
I might let you make me Juno
You know I just might”
-
His hands are upon you in an instant, rubbing at your hips as his body presses into yours to kiss at the back of your neck, and you realize that he is still wearing his undershirt and pants. The metal of the belt buckle digs into your back as you reach back to undo his belt.
You hear him undo it and get ready, pressing your forehead into the tile of the counter as he grabs your hands and begins wrapping your hands together with the leather belt. And you should be embarrassed at the moan that fills the air once you realize what he is doing before he undoes his pants and you feel him press at your center.
He’s quick to press in, and you both your moans fill the air as he presses his forehead into the exposed skin of your back before beginning to rut himself up into you. With every aggressive push of his hips into yours the doors of the cabinet on the counter shake, the cold tile of the counter hitting your hip over and over and over as he claims you for his own.
With one hand holding the belt that is biting into the flesh of your wrists and the other holding the counter to keep you both stable he stands straight and lets free. Every harsh threat is followed by his grunts and your moans, the sound of skin slapping filling the room before the hand from the counter comes to hold your hair.
It’s feral, and hot. And the feeling of his flesh hand pulling at your hair has you tightening around him enough that he can’t fight his own moan.
And the second you hear it you are coming undone around him, shaking harshly as he keeps you held up before you collapse, continuing his thrusts until you reach the peak of the high once more and spasm around him.
Once you come down, panting heavily and keeping your forehead pressed into the cold tile, he works on undoing his belt to release you as he pulls himself out of you and pulls his pants up.
You are quick to turn on him, tears in your eyes partly due to the intense orgasm and the fact that you still haven’t gotten what you wanted. “Baby please….”
“Easy doll.” He whispers, pulling you into his arms to wrap himself around you, picking you up easily. “You’ll get it. Don’t you fret.”
-
“Let you lock me down tonight
One of me is cute, but two though?
Give it to me, baby
You make me wanna make you fall in love”
-
He carries you into the bedroom bridal style, setting you down at the foot of the bed before leaning down to grab the end of your dress and pull it over your head, kissing his way up your body so slowly you feel like you might just die. By the time the fabric is over your head he throws it to the side, his gaze meeting yours in a tense blaze.
You knew within an instant that he had gotten serious, and as you kept your gaze on his he let your hands roam until you begin pulling his undershirt off before you reach to undo his waistband. “What’s that look for?”
“Did you know….” He keeps his voice to a whisper as he kicks off his shoes and shucks off his pants, pulling off his socks and throwing everything to the side before moving his hands to either side of your cheeks. “That it’s not actually proven that the amount of orgasms a women has is connected to their ability to conceive.”
“Yeah?” You smile, waiting for him to get to the point
“I did a lot of research.” He says proudly, “So though the amount of orgasms I give you don’t end up mattering in the end…..they sure are fun.”
And you can’t fight the loud laugh that escapes when he gently tackles you onto the bed, making it bounce a bit as he pushes your thighs open with his hands and pressing them into you by the backs of them.
“You ready doll?”
“Always for you sergeant.”
-
“Adore me
Hold me and explore me
Mark your territory (Ah-ah)
Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one (Ah-ah)”
-
He keeps the eye contact, soft and open, as he slides himself between your folds to use your past orgasms as his lubricant before pressing into your center and moaning a bit as he pushes himself in. Whereas the romp downstairs had been feral and fast this one started slow, allowing him to kiss at your face as you adjusted to his size this time.
His weight presses you into the bed, and your hands find purchase at his back so he can pull himself back before pushing his hips back into yours. Slow and precise, every pull he left a kiss and every push has just enough friction on your core that has you arching your back.
It had been years of him learning your body and by this point he knew how to play it like the back of his hand. It was his and he liked keeping what's his cared for. When you arched a little more he knew he should speed up, and when you closed your eyes he reached a hand down to grip at the fat of your ass, fingers digging in as he readjusted you both for more pleasure.
And once you came around him, spasming and moaning loudly, all bets were off.
-
“Adore me
Hold me and explore me (Ah-ah)
I'm so fuckin' horny
Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one”
-
His entire weight comes down, crushing you beneath him not that your complaining. Between the warmth of his skin and the mix of your sweat with his you both have traction to move as his thrusts turn wild.
Over and over at a speed he hadn’t reached with you before, his eyes are clenched shut as he ruts into you, overstimulating you as you begin to sob from the pleasure. Your entire body shakes with every intense hump.
Between his thrusts you meet your peak once more, screaming out as his own thrusts become erratic and harsher.
By the time he finishes he leans down to your ear so you can hear the heavy moan that escapes him as he fills you to the brim, shaking and pinching you with his metal arm. And his release seems never ending as he continues to thrust, until you are both completely spent and collapse into the cool sheets.
-
“(Oh, I) I know you want my touch for life
If you love me right, then who knows?
I might let you make me Juno
You know I just might (Might)”
-
You had managed to fall asleep and only woke up at the realization that he wasn’t near you, vision blurry as you looked around. He had cleaned you up and tucked you in with a glass of water on the nightstand, but his side of the bed was empty.
So you sit up, ready to go check on him, until you realize how sore you were and stay on the bed to listen for him. You hear the sound of him shuffling around downstairs to check all the locks before he begins climbing up the stairs.
You know he makes the noise for you, otherwise he would be as stealthy as an assassin.
By the time he enters the doorway there is a small smile playing at his lips while you open your arms and pull him in to lay with you.
“Goodnight.” You whisper.
“Goodnight, Doll.”
-
“Let you lock me down tonight
One of me is cute, but two though?
Give it to me, baby
You make me wanna make you fall in love”
-
The waiting was the most dreadful feeling.
Sitting on the edge of the bathtub with the test sitting on the counter between where you sat and where your husband sat in the hallway with the back of his head laid against the door.
It was silent but not in a malicious way, more of a calming way as his metal hand whirred before the alarm on your phone goes off and you both shoot up to look.
“Is it…”
“I….”
And you both lean to look at the same time to see just how well those new positions took.
-
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#marvel#marvel imagine#marvel smut#marvel fluff#marvel angst#winter soldier
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Empty Promises ⥃ Dark!Aemond Targaryen
Summary: the closeness between you and your twin brother doesn’t go unnoticed by your uncle, but your bond will shatter when he is betrothed to your cousin, lightening a new path for Aemond to get his revenge.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI!!!! Dark!Aemond, manipulation, DUB CON KIND OF? main pairing: Aemond x Strong!reader (Rhaenyra’s daughter/Jace’s twin), side pairing: Jace x twin!reader (They’ll end pretty quickly lol), JACE AND READER ARE 18!! targcest, incest, mentions of pregnancy, p in v sex, breeding, rough sex, degradation, English isn’t my first language<3
Word count: 4.6k+
A/n: so heheh I received this ask and rambled about it to beloved @anjelicawrites and she helped me with this one shot!!! Tell me what you think about this one shot, lovies, and don’t forget to reblog and comment!!!
“Mm, maybe we should keep our distance during our stay here,” Jace mumbles against your lips, his arms wrapped around your waist as he corners you to a wall, “We might get caught,”
“But why? Mother said it herself that we are to be betrothed soon! It would not raise any suspicions.” You try to lean down for another kiss, but he pulls back a little, his warm hand resting on your cheek, “Besides, we have already done more than just kissing, yet I am still a maiden!”
“That you are, beloved sister,” he presses a quick kiss to your cheek, backing away from you as soon as he hears a rush of footsteps in your direction, “Do not pout.”
“I’m not pouting!” you scoff, looking away from him as you cross your arms over your chest. “But I am displeased with you! You promised we would be wed soon and that we ought to wait until we are husband and wife to explore… different sides of our companionship.”
“Because tainting your purity is the last thing I want, my love,” he reaches to loop your arm through his, kissing the side of your head before he looks at Luke who jogs toward you, “What is it you want, Luke? Can’t you see I’m busy?”
“Busy doing what? Annoying our sister?” Luke looks between the two of you, raising his eyebrows as he sees your flushed face and Jace’s swollen lips, “Or perhaps being inappropriate with our sister—“
“Mind your tongue, Luke,” you say, tightening your arm around Jace’s, looking at him pleadingly, knowing your younger brother’s big mouth that always gets you and your twin in trouble, “Do not make me mad, it will not end well for you.”
“I wish mother would betroth you two already, it is awfully obvious how… involved you are with each other,” Luke shrugs, walking ahead of you, forcing you and your brother to join him, “You must be careful, this place has eyes and ears and they are already looking at us with disgust.”
“Lucerys,” you sigh, resting your head on Jace’s shoulder, smiling softly when he kisses your forehead, his lips lingering on your forehead too long for the court’s liking, “Don’t let them win, little brother. Do not give them a chance to belittle us, we are Princess Rhaenyra’s children. Silver-haired or not, we have royal blood surging in our hearts.”
“She is correct,” Jace cups your cheek in his hand, his warm eyes looking into yours — identical to his — before he leans down to whisper against your lips, “We might not have the hair, but we own the name, and the costumes.”
“That is right,” you press a quick kiss to his lips grinning when he does not look away from you, groaning when Luke makes a gagging sound. You look at your younger brother, raising your eyebrows at his visibly disgusted expression, “One day, you will hold such affection for a lady, and we shall get to tease you for it endlessly!”
“I doubt we would need to wait for long, dear sister,” Jace smiles, his hand coming to rest on your waist, gently squeezing you before he resumes talking, “Have you noticed how flushed he gets when Rhaena talks to him—“
“Nephews.”
There they are.
The infamous Dragon princes, walk with their heads held high and chin tilted up as they both stare down at the three of you over their noses.
Aegon is just as you remember from years ago; he has unruly hair and a lazy smirk as he stares at the three of you.
Your younger uncle though, is much more put together; his hair is tied out of his face, neatly brushed and shining while he scans the entire hallway from one corner to the other, his gaze lingering on you and Jace’s linked arms.
“Niece,” Aemond says, his good eye solely focusing on you, ignoring the terrified faces of your brothers who try to play it cool without staring daggers at Aegon who tries to intimidate them by only smirking. The younger Targaryen brother, though, does not show how he feels up front, just cocking his head to the side as he starts talking, “How you have grown to a lady, dark hair and all.”
“Thank you, Uncle,” you reply, face as stoic as possible but soon the mask slips and you look at your twin brother and smile radiantly, enjoying how safe his arm feels around yours, “But it seems with all the years passing, your eye hasn’t grown back.”
“My, she’s got a mouth on her,” Aegon chuckles, running a hand through his tangled hair as he snickers at Aemond.
“Indeed she has,” Aemond says, stepping forward, closing the distance between you, and glancing at Jace who pulls you closer to him, his brown eyes meeting Aemond’s bright blue orb, “No wonder she has her dog running around her, sniffing and barking when threatened.”
“Easy, easy,” Aegon laughs, putting a hand on Jace’s chest when the dark-haired prince strides closer. Aegon holds him back, glancing at Luke who tries to appear brave while he trembles and looks between his siblings and uncles, “My brother is… too honest for his own good, nephew.”
“He is rude,” you whisper, chest heaving as Aemond leans even closer, towering over you as he raises a hand to your exposed neck, caressing the skin with the back of his fingers, until he reaches the neckline of your dress, slowly tracing the outline of the blue mark that is lightly visible.
“Hmmm,” Aemond’s eye drops to the mark before he drags his gaze up to your face, taking in your flustered expression, before he looks at Jacaerys, “It appears you are trying hard to get accustomed to Targaryen costumes, my Lord and Lady Strong. Such… proximity is seen as inappropriate in this castle. Mayhaps you have forgotten the rules of the king’s court.”
“Jace, don’t listen to him,” you sigh shakily, looking away from Aemond before tugging on Jace’s hand, stepping away from your uncles before you pull your twin brother away from them as well, cocking your head for Luke to follow your lead and back away from the blonde men, “Let us join our sisters for lunchen.”
“Yes, best to leave and make yourselves ready for tomorrow,” Aegon waves at the three of you as you walk to the opposite of the hallway, ignoring the older prince’s snickers, but Aemond’s gaze is too strong to turn a blind eye to it, especially with how hot the place he touched feels like.
“I am nervous,” you mumble against Jacaerys’ neck, tightening your arms around his middle as he hugs you back just as tightly, “Luke is distressed, he is frantic and I doubt he would be able to appear strong in front of the court and the Hand.”
“Mother has it under control, beautiful,” he whispers, sighing against the crown of your head as you both rest on the chaise in his chambers, empty plates on the desk in front of you, “Daemon will help her in the court today, do not worry.”
“Jacaerys,” you mumble, sitting straight to look into his eyes. “You promised we would wed after we strengthened Mother’s claim, and she agreed, but we are yet to be betrothed. Why? Why are we delaying such a happy union, brother?”
“We are not, my sweet,” he cups your face, closing his eyes to try and hide the annoyance that you can clearly hear in his tone, “We need to think of our family first, our lives and Mother’s inheritance are already a threat to our happiness. Do not forget about your duty to our family and the realm, you are a Princess.”
“That is irrelevant, Jacaerys,” you put some distance between the two of you before standing up to put on your gown, making sure the bruises and marks on your chest are fully covered beneath the fabric, “I know what I must do as a Velaryon Princess, but will it not make you happy to have me as your future queen?”
“I promised you since we were ten and one that, you are to be my wife when we grow older,” he replies, covering his face with his hands, “I intend to keep that promise one way or another. Now, put on your clothes and join us in the Throne room.”
You watch him leave after he fixes his coat, giving you space to finish lacing your gown as best as you can, brushing your hair so your Mother does not notice your disheveled appearance, and using a hair clip to pull the front of your hair back as the final touch.
With a sigh, you leave your twin’s room, walking gracefully downstairs to reach the throne room, passing ladies and lords who bow their heads and greet you, making your nervousness only grow worse by their stares.
The doors are open and you take your time while walking toward your family, greeting your now stepsister Baela with a radiant smile, conversing with her easily before you notice your grandmother and greet her as well.
The feeling of someone watching you makes the hair on the back of your head itch, and the heat of their gaze burns your skin and as soon as you turn around, the feeling is long gone, because your eyes lock with his good one almost immediately.
Just as the day before, you feel breathless beneath his eye, desperately hoping for him to look away and let you have a moment of peace before the Hand comes and once again questions your legitimacy.
Aemond does not look away, his stare is locked on yours or more specifically, looking at your gown where it is covering the bruise he touched before, a ghost of a smirk finding its way on his thin lips when he can not see the blue mark.
You turn around and join your brothers and family on the opposite side of the room, watching the Hand making his way to the Iron Throne, sitting on it, and observing the crowd.
You know how everything is going to happen; Vaemond Velaryon will question your brother’s legitimacy and by extension you and your twin brother as well. You are more than glad to feel Jace’s closeness throughout the exhausting trial, his hand on your waist as he tries to keep his anger at bay.
The room grows oddly silent when the doors are pushed open and your grandsire, The King, limps toward his throne slowly, the rotten side of his face covered by a golden mask. He sits in his rightful place, panting before he starts talking, demanding to know what is all the mess his family created.
Your grandmother is asked to give her own petition on behalf of your grandsire, and what she says makes your eyes grow wide, lips falling apart as you let out a shocked gasp before pulling your hand away from your brother’s grasp.
“As a matter of fact, Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons, Jace and Luke, to Lord Corlys’ granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena, a proposal which I heartedly agreed…”
Your lips tremble, and the world around you fades away as your teary eyes find Jace’s trembling lips, shushing you gently as you put more distance between, hiding behind Luke and Daemon.
You see your Mother’s bright smile as she turns to look at Jacaerys, but she catches a glimpse of you and sighs, lowering her gaze to the floor before she looks back at Rhaenys and nods at her.
You catch Aemond’s eye, realizing your interaction did not go unnoticed, but the ache and betrayal outweigh the utter humiliation you feel at the moment.
You do not pay attention for a second, lost between your own thoughts and the news of your brother’s betrothal to someone other than you until you see Daemon pulling his sword out and the next thing you knew is Lord Vaemond’s head on the floor.
You gasp eyes wide in terror as the tears finally fall down, but across the room, you see Aemond’s flushed cheeks as he drags his eye from the headless man on the floor to you, his bright iris shining with what could only assume lust and intrigue.
His gaze awakens something in you, something only Jacaerys used to do, but seeing your uncle flushed and breathless while his eye is solely focusing on your face has your heart pulsating more than before.
Without so much of a glance at your family, you bolt outside of the throne room, pushing people out of your way forcefully to move past the guards and leave the hall.
With your gown in your fists, you rush upstairs, tears running down your face as you hear your name being called by your twin brother, following you upstairs with haste, skipping a step or two to reach you before you run away once more.
“Please, sister, listen—“
“Listen to what?” You yell, turning around abruptly, digging your nails into your palms, “Listen to what, Jace? You were fooling me all this time, keeping at an arm’s length! Did you know about this?”
And the defeated face he makes is enough to answer your question.
“You did, did you not?” You chuckle in disbelief, resting your hand on your chest as you blink the tears away. Even the sight of him makes your heart clench in pain, “Waiting for marriage…what utter nonsense! Did you even love me or were you lying to my face this whole time just to secure a match for yourself?”
“Of course I love you! You are my sister!” He screams back, his hands falling limply next to his body, “I could not live with myself if I tainted your purity! Our lives are hanging on a thread because of our—“
“Because we are fucking bastards, I know that Jacaerys! But Mother promised us to each other, she told me, in fact—“ you laugh halfheartedly to cover up the sob that nearly made its way up your throat, “You said it yourself! We would marry one way or another, now you are telling me you did this for Mother. You told me you loved me.”
“I do! Just not enough to fight with our future queen over it!”
Your lips quiver, watching as the man you used to love turns into a stranger; you nearly gave yourself to him in one of the many nights that the desire got too strong, and he pushed you away just as he has done a hundred times.
“If I am to be king one day, I need a strong queen who will bring me power, not to make me appear weak,” Jace whispers, and that is your undoing. With a violent shake of your head, you grab your skirt in your hands and run upstairs, trying to hide your tears from the passing servants until you are safe in the confines of your own chambers.
You should not be ignoring everyone, not when with Daemon’s help, your mother managed to keep Luke’s inheritance in her grasp, but even the thought of your sweet sister Baela being betrothed to Jacaerys makes you nauseous.
Instead, you are crying on an abandoned balcony with no guards or people in sight, tightening the shawl around your shoulders as the cold breeze hits your heated cheeks.
There are many emotions running through your head now, and the more you spend time thinking about them the more you feel like throwing up. Did your brother really put on a mask to hide your mother’s intentions by whispering reassurances to you?
“You were dearly missed at the supper.”
You hear his voice, the deep soothing voice of his that cuts through the silence. You clean your nose with your napkin, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from snapping at him.
“What do you want, Aemond?” You manage to say without your voice breaking, gazing off to the distance while your tears dry and new ones burn your eyes.
“Jurnegon rȳ nyke,” look at me, he says, patiently waiting for you to turn around, and when you do not, he sighs, one hand reaching to move your hair to your left shoulder, caressing your neck with his knuckles, “Don’t make me repeat myself, niece.”
“Leave me alone, Uncle!” you cry out, hair whipping into his face as soon as you turn around, pushing on his chest as you scream at him, “I am sick of you taunting me! I know how humiliating it was and how much you must have enjoyed watching me and my brother fall apart! Surely you have already jabbed him with your words, calling us bastards and our mother a whore!”
“Mind your tone—“ he grabs your wrists in his large palms, pulling you closer until your chest is pressed against his, and he takes his time observing your face — tears coating your cheeks, lips trembling with anger, the agony of betrayal evident on your face.
You try to wiggle out of his hold, digging your nails into the side of his wrists but he tightens his grip to keep you close while he lets go of one of your wrists to cup your chin with his palm, his thumb caressing your jaw.
The heat of his gaze is enough to blossom a new warmth in your chest; it is not unkind, not what you are used to. It is… welcoming, careful, as if he is afraid you would break in his hold.
“Shh,” he shushes you, cupping your cheek completely before he wipes a tear that threatens to fall from your lashes, “Nothing is worth your tears, certainly not your idiot brother.”
“Do not call him an idiot, I love him!”
“Does he love you just as much?” He shakes his head, catching another tear with the back of his fingers, wiping your cheek gently, “He hurt you, sweet girl.”
“He-he promised me—“ a sob breaks out, your throat burning as you try to explain. You know you should not, especially not to someone who openly despises you, but you can not stop yourself, not when his hands moves to round your waist, his face leaning closer as he looks deeply into your eyes, “We were to be betrothed, but he betrayed me, so did Mother!”
“What did they do?” He asks, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, “You can trust me, Tala,” Niece, he says and keeps you close, merging you into his arms, and you melt right there, looking up at him with watercolor eyes.
“She betrothed him to Baela,” you whisper, fisting the front of his doublet, holding on to the fabric tightly as you sob, but he does not let you hide your face from him, no, he stares deeply into your eyes, watching each tear fall on your wet cheeks. There is a dangerous glint in his only blue orb, as if he is stripping you naked of the mask you always put around him and his family — and to your surprise, you realize he has done that successfully and you have allowed him, “He lied to me that…”
“Go on, sweet girl, tell me what that bastard did to you.”
“We were involved with each other more than it’s deemed appropriate… but he never tainted my purity, always pushed me away and made me… he made me feel as if I did not rouse something in him anymore when he would tell me we ought to wait for marriage.”
“Idiot,” you frown at him, but gasp when he gently pushes your head to the side by cupping your jaw, making room for his face as he ghosts the tip of his nose over your neck and down to your shoulders, “How could he hold himself back while he could have you like this all day?”
“I-I don’t…” you trail off as soon as he presses his pink thin lips to the junction of your shoulder, nipping at the sensitive skin, “Aemond.”
“Oh, sweet girl, he did not love you,” he groans against your neck before he detaches himself from you, “He is a fucking fool, I would have never let you leave my bed if I had you.”
“What-what do you mean he didn’t love me?” You stutter, mind hazy and limbs shaking; only Jace used to have you like this, but the intense desire was not this strong even then.
“He loves the idea of controlling you, taking his pleasure then tossing you aside as soon as duty comes forward,” he straightens his back, looking down at you over the bridge of his nose, “He does not deserve you. The Seven knows I would have worshipped you in every corner of this Keep, nothing would have stopped me from showing you how loveable you are.”
He nods and leaves with his hands clasped on his back, leaving you alone once again with your thoughts and a furiously beating heart.
You do not know what possesses you as you take a path you have never thought you would: walking downstairs to one of the ground floors, taking the hallway on your left until you see the flicker of several candles. With the final step you take, you see him sitting on one of the chairs, his legs crossed as he reads a book.
Aemond’s hair is down, and he is only in his breeches and a white undershirt, but the smirk on his lips when his eye falls on you breaks his character.
“Niece,” he says, uncrossing his legs as he spreads them, his arms dangling from the sides of the chair, his eye running over your night attire being finally visible to his gaze, “To what do I owe the pleasure?” “I don’t… I don’t know why I am here…” you whisper, crossing the room until you are standing next to his chair, “I thought about what you said… did you mean it?”
“Every word,” he closes his book and drops it on the table in front of him before he reaches to grab your wrist and guide you between his legs, “I meant every word I said. Would you like me to prove them?”
“Yes,” you nod, reaching to pull your nightgown off but he stops you, pulling you down on his lap after turning you around, and spreading your legs over his. His hand goes under your shift, slowly yet firmly pressing his fingers against the dampened spot on your underwear, “Aemond.” “Shhh, sweet girl, voices echo in this chamber,” he whispers in your ear, pushing your underwear to the side before he runs the pad of his fingers against your pearl, enjoying how suddenly your legs clamp around his wrist, “You would not like if someone hears us, now, would you?”
You shake your head side to side, resting your head on his broad shoulder, tucking your face in his neck as he plays with your heat, rubbing the right places before he pushes a finger inside. You gasp, hiding your face more but he turns his head to look at you, his stare too intense to look away from which seems to please him beyond words.
“Did your idiot brother ever touch you like this?” he asks and shoves another finger inside, scissoring you open by curling and thrusting his digits deep inside your core, a deep frown forming on his face when you nod and arch your back.
Aemond fastens his pace, fucking you with a new rush of anger, his fingers curled and hitting the sweet spots inside you that have your legs shaking in a matter of a second.
“No one can give you the pleasure I give you,” he spits the words out, brushing his nose against yours aggressively, his pace matching his fury, “Kiss me, now.” You do not need any more convincing before you pull him down and crash your lips to his, moaning into his mouth as he brings you closer and closer to the edge of your pleasure. For a second you break the kiss, gasping for air but he doesn’t let you do so completely.
“I didn’t say you could stop, niece,” he kisses you after this, his lips devouring yours as you fall over the edge, your legs shaking and quivering as you gush over his fingers, coating them in your juices,
He finally breaks the kiss and rests his forehead on yours before he whispers, “Get on the bed, all fours.” You stand up with shaky legs, but he does not let you go too far before he reaches and pulls your nightgown over your head, stunning you with how quickly his attitude changes.
You, in all of your naity, have learned a thing or two from your twin brother, and you comply with your uncle’s commands and try to climb the bed, but Aemond’s mind has changed already.
He stands behind you, pushing you down on the edge of the bed with your legs dangling and him pressing his hips into your backside as he pulls your underwear down, revealing your glistening cunt to his hungry eye.
With one hand on your shoulder blades, he presses you down on the mattress, cock already out of his breeches and standing proudly against his covered abdomen.
“Fucking gods,” he groans deeply, the sound coming from the depth of his chest as he presses his cock into you, breaching your maidenhead inch by inch, “See, sweetling? Your brother is a moron because no man can keep away from a tight cunt like this.”
You whine, the wetness is enough to let him glide inside you with ease, filling you up and stretching your poor untouched walls out. He is much bigger than you could ever imagine, he is certainly bigger than your brother even though you have never felt him inside you.
Aemond’s starting pace is bruising, brutal even. He is fucking his frustration away, making you cry out with each delicious stroke, pulling his cock out until the red weeping tip is engulfed by your walls before he snaps his hips into the globes of your ass.
“Jace did not want you, niece,” he bends down over your back, his chest pressed into yours as he drives his cock in and out of you quickly, hammering himself in your sweet cunt, “I want you, you are mine. Your brother took my eye, now I take his sister. An eye for an eye.”
You can not argue back, not when his cock is nudging every pleasure points deep inside your core, making your head turn into a puddle. You should be embarrassed, your Mother would be furious if she found out, but he is giving you something Jace had denied you for so long, and the sheer euphoric feeling you are getting is enough to make you empty your head of any thoughts — all you can think about is him, your uncle, your devious handsome uncle you have been warned to keep away.
“Do you know what that means?” he asks, biting your earlobe as he somehow picks up his pace, thrusting himself inside you before he keeps himself pressed against you, circling his hips to drive himself deeper, “I will give you my seed from this day on until I am sure you are with child; a precious Targaryen heir. Then I will make him the king after me, and you, my beloved niece, will kill your family and rule the realm with me and our child.”
You moan loudly, walls clenching tightly around his girth as you reach your peak and that is enough to send him to his high as well; he comes inside you, dumping his warm dragonseed deep inside your womb.
“We shall rule together, niece, and that is a promise I intend to keep.”
#aemond targaryen#ewan mitchell#rue writes✍️#aemond x reader#prince aemond#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond smut#aemond targaryen x you#aemond x you#jace velaryon x reader#hotd smut#aemond fanfiction
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my man of the year
Ewan Mitchell x girlfriend!reader
a/n: just a little something for the Ewan girlies, because in this GQ party, we are all fam 💙
main masterlist
You attend the GQ Men of the Year 2024 party with your boyfriend.
You watch in admiration as Davey makes the final tweaks to Ewan's outfit for the event—a suit tailored to perfection, its velvet material snug against his lean form. A classic piece, but sporting some eccentricities that have become essential in the Mitchell-Sutton style partnership.
The velvet suit, not in the usual black or blue, also has a textured high notch and lapels, making him look like some kind of an 80s-flick vampire.
Your gaze sweeps from his polished shoes up to his face, finding that he's watching you in the reflection as he stands in front of the mirror.
He tries turning around to see you better, causing Davey's hand to fall from his shoulder as he was pinning something in place. "Ewan, mate. Save the ogling for later, yeah? Let me finish this first."
Ewan sighs dramatically, like a kid who's been asked to stand in the corner. "Okay."
You giggle softly, shaking your head at the scene. "Ewan, listen to Davey now."
You share a look with Davey, knowing smiles on your lips. Ewan, am I right?
"I just want to look at my girlfriend," Ewan complains.
"Look at me?" you question. "Look at you, handsome! You're my man of the year, every damn year."
"C'mere, babe."
"Ewan, don't move until Davey—."
"I won't move. But come here and give me a kiss."
"Fine." You get up from your comfortable position on the seat. Might as well oblige your boyfriend, the GQ honouree. Just the thought of it makes you so giddy with pride.
Rising onto your tiptoes, you rest your chin gently on his shoulder, batting your eyelashes as he leans his head against yours.
"There's my girl," he purrs, wrapping his free arm around your waist and Davey works on the sleeve on the other.
Then he kisses you, mindful to stay perfectly still. Only his lips move, pillowy as they caress yours. You would have to reapply your lipstick after this.
When he cheekily snakes his tongue out, you pull back, giving him an incredulous shake of your head. "Stand down, handsome."
"Oh, don't worry about me, sweetheart," Davey reassures you. "Maybe we should let Ewan have his way. Poor guy looks like he's about to explode."
You all share a laugh.
A minute later, he's all ready. Davey snaps photos of him alone, then shifts to capture the two of you together. He even manages a few that feel like classic prom poses, with Ewan's arms around you from behind.
The rest of the night is a blur of lights and glamour, and the warmth of Ewan's hand on your back quells your nerves as you step onto the red carpet.
The cameras are everywhere, a sea of flashes and shouting for you to, look here, look here!
Ewan keeps you close the entire time, steering you through it all. You can feel that he's anxious too but he's a steady presence by your side. He used to need a crutch like cigarettes or gum to deal with the chaos of such public events, but when you're with him, the noise is silenced.
It's just you and him against the world.
When his arm tightens around you, you jokingly remark, "Didn't peg you for the clingy type, babe."
He glances down, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "Just making sure you don't run off with some other dashing celebrity."
An idea pops up in your head. He makes it all too easy. You let out a shaky gasp, "Wait, is that Pedro Pascal over there?"
"Where?" he asks sharply, distracted.
"By the big GQ sign. Don't make it obvious, though!" you whisper, as if you're entirely serious.
He squints, scanning the sea of people coming through the red carpet, until he realizes… there's no Pedro. Not yet, at least.
He turns to you with a playful glare, his mouth twitching with the hint of a smile. "You think you're funny, don't you, baby?"
You give your best wide-eyed, innocent look. "Who, me?"
"You're asking for it," he whispers close to your ear so the cameras don't catch it.
You only laugh as he pulls you closer, giving your waist another possessive squeeze.
"And what exactly are you gonna do about it?" you ask.
"Guess you'll have to find out after we're done here."
When he kisses you, you both know that the resulting pictures are going to flood the gossip sites, fan pages, and everything in between as soon as the next day. But neither of you care.
He makes sure that there's no mistaking who he came with that night.
And you would never tire of showing everyone just who your boyfriend is. You could scream it from the rooftops.
He doesn't need GQ to tell him he's one of the honourees of the year.
All he needs is you by his side to feel like he's truly won.
#ewan mitchell#ewan mitchell x reader#ewan mitchell imagine#gq moty#aemond targaryen#my man of the year#house of the dragon#hotd
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Okay. I always look at these posts and see these comments,
Americangirl: Yes, women make up alot of Trumps voterbase, most of them are republican and considering how he did in the polls, will stay republican, however, this does not make the idea of “voting against your own” less true, as many other demographics have done the same over the promises of other issues that have been mentioned, but regardless, the threat is there, to a-lot of people it felt like that if you vote for trump there will be a long trickle effect leading to the infringement of their rights, something that they are entitled to in a country that flaunts it. So yes, people are threatened, want more information? You can probably check, im not here to teach you.
I can see your point, I know people that work their asses off daily only to lose more than a quarter of their check. This job market is shit. Yet it is that frustration that galvanizes this frustrated demographic, they feel that whatever the republicans will do will lead to less taxes, regardless of action, meaning less welfare, which in turn, affects poor people. What we really need is to stop believing that republicans are low taxes and dems are high, it is not productive, we need to hold our governments accountable for spending money on a broken system without even taking the time to fix it, and focus those tax dollars into efficiency, which, if I’m being honest, is not being done as much as one or the other side of this bipartisan shitscape likes to imagine they are.
This is just not even productive. “The left hates the poor” very good observation. I get the feeling that you use your “vibes” on alot of things but please do understand that the butt of most jokes is that we spend (politically) TOO MUCH time and money on the poor to the point its controversial. Remember obamacare?
To sum it up, I have a headache, and my words will go out from one ear to the other. I am left because I chose to be, I read, I studied, and I saw what it stood for. I did not go off “vibes”, and from what it stands now, yes, I will stay left until the right stops abusing their ability to funnel american frustration into their own needs and wants, until they stop using their idea on how its “they” that is causing all the problems, rather than the men in suits that live within us, perpetuating this broken system that is abused. Until they start talking sense, instead of using words like “woke mind virus” “brainwashed” and other buzzwords to further perpetuate this antagonism of “they” whoever “they” are.
TLDR: these comments piss me the fuck off, and I had to point some shit out, if you choose to ignore it, fine, so be it. Don’t be surprised when your echo chamber gets too loud or unfriendly.
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treasure trove
𓇼 pairing: husband!johnny x fem!reader
𓇼 tags/warnings: fluff, smut!, unprotected sex, tit job, fingering, multiple positions/orgasms, oral (m receiving), tit/breast play, sucking/marking/biting, kissing/making out, dirty talk, breeding kink, cursing, name calling (good girl) & pet names (wife, babe), sex by the beach :0, rough johnny
𓇼 w.c: 2k
𓇼 a.n: hehe, i told ya'll i'd be back very soon and with my first ever johnny fic no less, hehe. anyhow this is the last release of the week, please stay tuned next weekend for my next releases! thank you for your continuous love and support, i truly appreciate it & i love ya'll just so much! until next week, jiji out 🤍
Maldives.
Nothing beats the ocean side view. The water so clear, so exquisite. You looked out the window of the restaurant you and your husband were dining in for the night. Today marked a day until your honeymoon was over. You were a bit sad, not wanting this to end, not wanting to leave just yet.
You watched as the sun slowly set, illuminating the beautiful ocean. You were always fond of the ocean, it was the center of all your good moments in life. You teared your gaze from the beautiful ocean to the man in front of you.
Your husband: Johnny Suh.
“I’m starting to think you’re on this honeymoon with the ocean rather than with me,” Johnny says as he swirls the wine in his cup.
You couldn’t help but smile at his commentary. “Jealous of the ocean, Suh?” you teased.
“You’re a Suh too now you know,” he answered, taking the cup of wine to his lips. His face scrunches up when he gets a taste. He sets the glass down, using that hand to entwine his fingers with yours.
“Did I ever tell you how magnificent you look tonight?” your husband speaks, a slight blush adorning your cheeks.
“Yes, yes you have… in fact it's all you’ve said to be tonight,” you told your husband who just looked at you like a love struck fool. He was your fool, head over heels for you. In Johnny’s world he always thanked the lord above for letting him meet someone like you.
“Well, what can I say, my wife is simply just the most radiant woman in the whole world!” he says a bit louder, loud enough for other guests to hear.
You slightly shout his name as you see the few guests turn around to your table. Johnny just laughs, bringing your entwined hands to his lips where he kissed it so lovingly.
“I love you,” he mutters, instantly melting your heart.
“I love you too,” you tell him as you then bring his hand to your lips so you could do the same thing.
And so your dinner with Johnny continued, laughter and smiles radiating from your table. Everyone in that restaurant could feel the love surrounding you two– the newly wedded couple. Once it was time to go, Johnny made sure to take your hand–holding it real tight–and walk you to his car. You noticed there was no one else there except you two, Johnny noticed this too. And Johnny for one was someone who wouldn’t miss an opportunity to do something… revolting.
His hands quickly find their way to your waist, holding you as he slams his mouth onto yours. You could taste remnants of his wine from him, intoxicating yourself. You didn’t mean the wine, but Johnny himself, the man was like an addicting drug, something you couldn’t help but intoxicate yourself with.
You find yourself trapped, being eaten alive almost. His tongue fights against yours, dominance overriding Johnny. His hands lingered on your ass, groping it which caused you to moan into his mouth. He lightly smacks one of your cheeks before soothing it. You could feel your panties begin to wetten, yourself begin to heat up.
He parts from the heated kiss first, instead going to kiss your cheek, jaw, before settling on your neck. He uses one hand to brush away any hairs, leaving your neck in full exposure to him. He nips on your skin before sucking on it. You grab onto his brown locks, holding him as he tries marking you. You were sure you were going to be left in a body full of marks by the time ya’ll leave tomorrow. Well, not that you were complaining.
Once Johnny felt satisfied he parts from your neck, meeting you at eye level. And just as he was about to devour you again, you two hear a woman’s laughter in the distance. You two freeze, instantly sobering up. However you didn’t fail to notice the remnants of lust in Johnny's eyes.
“Just wait until we get into the villa,” he whispers into your ear before taking your hand to guide you to the passenger seat. As you take your seat and he begins to drive off, your mind wanders to all the indecencies that are about to unravel.
𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉
You two couldn’t make it past the front door before he had you two undressing. You were left in nothing, naked as he sucked on your tits. “How are you so perfect,” he groans against your breast, kissing his way to the other one where he proceeds to suck on your nipple before marking you up. You gripped onto his hair, watching as he loved on your body.
When he’s had enough he brings his lips to yours, pecking them before saying, “why don’t you take care of me now, I’ve been hard ever since the restaurant.” Johnny guides your hand to his hardened member that was still confined by his boxers. You shyly smiled before dropping onto your knees where you then proceed to take them off. His cock springs out, leaking with pre already and the tip looking red.
You licked your lips before inching towards his cock. You dart your tongue out before swirling it around his tip, licking up his pre. You groaned at the sour taste, only focusing on his tip. Johnny looks down at you with an urge to just shove himself down your throat, but he wanted you to do it yourself. He watched as your cute tongue licked his tip before licking his slit. He curses and closes his eyes at the pleasuring sensation.
You looked up, finding your husband in pure ecstasy from just some licking. You felt it was right to now kick things up a notch, so you spit on his cock. You used one of your hands to spread the spit around him, making sure to wet him well. When you felt it was wet enough you begin.
Johnny opens his eyes again when he feels his cock slide in between something soft, something he knew all too well: your tits.
“Fuck,” Johnny curses as he watches you try to fuck his cock in between your tits. Eventually opting to help you out by thrusting himself in between them, watching as you take his tip inside your mouth.
He knew he wasn't going to last, feeling himself nearing his release. You too could feel it in the way he twitched in between you. So being the caring wife that you are, you helped him out a bit by squeezing your tits a bit tighter and taking him in your mouth more deeper.
Johnny gripped your head, holding it as he came. His warm seeds erupting inside your mouth before you swallowed them. You lick him clean one last time before getting back up. Johnny immediately kisses you, tasting himself on you. You feel as his fingers go to your dripping cunt, he moans at the amount of juice overflowing you right now. He continues, sliding them in between your pussy lips. He barely gets to your entrance before you part from the kiss to say: “Pl-Please Johnny, in-inside… inside me pl-please.”
He groans, “anything for you my wife,” he says, unable to resist your pleas.
He flips your two around, your back against the wall. He takes one of your legs into his hand, holding it as he uses his other hand to bring his cock to your dripping entrance. You watched intently, watched as you swallowed him right up. Your hands fly to his shoulders, holding him as you feel his girth spread your gummy walls apart. He was snug inside you, fitting into you just right.
“So fucking tight, feels so good,” Johnny moans against your ear before kissing it. You mutter a sultry, yes, back to him.
Johnny starts thrusting, in and out, you watched with watery eyes. The pleasure so massive as you feel his cock reach up to your cervix, kissing your womb so nicely. You chant out his name when he continues pumping his length into you ruthlessly. You could feel yourself being fucked into oblivion already. You tightened yourself even more around him. “Fuck, already gonna cum babe?” Johnny asks.
“Mmmm,” you say, unable to cohort a simple sentence. Your fingers scratched Johnny’s back as he continued pounding you against the wall.
Johnny watches you in pleasure, watching the way your tits bounced in front of him. It was a sight he couldn't pass up on. Johnny wraps his mouth around one of your nipples, sucking on the poor thing as you grew closer to your release.
Too lost in the overstimulation from his cock and mouth, you failed to notice his fingers which grazed your clit. It wasn’t until you felt them rub your clit that you felt your eyes widened. Involuntary moans erupted from you as he continued playing with your clit.
“I’m… I’m cumming,” you moaned, as you gushed around his cock. Johnny too moans, loving the way you felt as you came around his cock. He continues his thrusting, overstimulating you into mini orgasms until he finally cums. You still couldn’t get used to how much he would cum, how’d he’d fill you up with such warmth.
However, just when you thought it was over, it wasn’t. Unlike the other nights, tonight Johnny was in a desperation of more. He carried you further inside the villa, rushing to the bedroom. He plops you on the bed, feeling it dip as he climbs on as well. Johnny opens your legs, watching as your and his orgasm mixed together and dripped out of you.
“Say, my dear wife, what if we have a child,” Johnny blurts out.
You didn’t know what to say, was this the cause of his sex driven state or was he genuine? Well, whatever the case, you didn’t mind. You were always talking about how much you wanted a child and were always ready to have one if the time ever arose.
“Do it, get me pregnant tonight my dear husband,” you whispered, pecking his lips. you were testing him, a test Johnny wasn’t going to play by tonight. He backs up a bit, spreading your legs wider before positioning his cock in between your folds. He rubs himself in between them, gathering the remnants of his leaking cum only to push them back inside.
“Y-Yes,” you moaned, “I could feel you so deep.”
Johnny smirks, watching your face twist in pleasure, watching as your eyes glistened with tears. He pistoned his thrust, hips slapping against your ass. He continues his ruthless thrust in and out of your cunt as the squelching sounds echoed in the room. He was wrecking your cunt, trying to make sure he was the only one that could ever leave you satisfied for all your life.
“Keep squeezing me babe and you’ll milk me in no time,” he groans, feeling as you squeezed him. “Good girl, just like that,” he then says as he rubs your clit once more.
“I’m go-gonna cum,” you moaned, tongue lolling out, “Cum wi-with me!”
His thrusting falters, going irregular until he finally cums inside you for a second time tonight. Yet he wasn’t done, he still had a promise to uphold. The promise to make sure you left this trip pregnant with his child, our child. And so he fucks his cum into you deeper, not stopping until he’s sure he’s made you pregnant.
𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉
Once everything seemed all perfect to him, Johnny takes his cock out of your stuffed pussy. Remnants of his animalistic side, subduing and being replaced by a gentle and cuddly husband. Johnny engulfed you into his body, his warmth, as he whispered sweet-nothings into your ear.
Then everything fell silent, the ocean waves sounding in the distance lulling you to sleep. You peacefully slept in Johnny’s arms, resting after a long day and night. In the midst of you sleep you felt a hand graze your stomach, and a loving whisper in your ear.
“I promise to protect you both, my treasures.”
© jhdyuiee
2024. 11. 10
final a.n: have a great weekend! stay safe! & creds to the person who created the dividers, i lost their tumblr page so i couldn't tag them ahhh
#johnny suh#suh johnny#johnny smut#johnny fluff#nct johnny#johnny nct#nct 127 johnny#johnny#johnny x reader#nct fanfic#nct smut#nct fluff#johnny fanfic#nct 127 fanfic#nct 127 smut#nct 127 fluff#nct oneshot#johnny oneshot#nct 127#nct#kpop#kpop blog#kpop fanfic#kpop bg#kpop writer
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“Stress-relievers”
SatoSugu x fem!reader
MDNI
Tags: unprotected sex (p in v), oral sex (f and m receiving), teasing, threesome, blink and you’ll miss it cockwarming, very minor somnophilia, overstimulation, cream pie
Masc version (coming soon!)
word count: 1.7K
It was a long ass day at work, people screaming at you all day. You were tired, frustrated, the whole 10 yards. You were sore, you could feel how tight your muscles were, feeling even a bit overstimulated from your bra even, everything was just a lot.
You opened your door, angrily pushing it open and walking inside your apartment. You shared an apartment with your boyfriends. You saw the two laying on the couch, looking up when they heard the door open.
Satoru said hello in his usual cocky demeanor “Hey hottie!~” He exclaimed. Suguru was more observant and noticed the tension in your body and the anguish in your expression. Suguru pushed gojo off the couch and made room for you, offering you a place to sit. Satoru huffed but perked up when he heard the softness in getos voice saying “Come sit with us”
You sighed and sat down, your head leaning against the back of the couch.
Gojo looked over the side curiously. Geto saw the strain in your back and instinctively he started massaging your muscles. You involuntarily groaned a little lewdly, satoru growing hard in his pants with a curse under his breath.
Suguru gave him a look as he massaged your back, his thumbs kneading into the tense muscles.
Satoru, eventually, (like the lost sad puppy he is), pouted while he climbed on the couch inbetween your legs. You looked at him, sighed, and could barely even nod before his hands were under your shirt, massaging your breasts and playing with your nipples.
Of course, Satoru being satoru, he ducked under your shirt and took one of your breasts in his mouth. Your thighs clenched around his waist, and he let out a moan. You choked out a gasp “Jesus, calm down toru..” you mumbled under your breath
He chuckled, the vibrations on your breast from his voice going straight to your core. Suguru was watching over your shoulder as one hand kept massaging you and the other playing with your hair. He saw satorus boner tenting in his pants, but you didn’t seem to notice (or you just didn’t mind) finally suguru spoke up in your ear “Do you want to talk about it?” He said
You just shook your head and continued to let yourself be held
They both understood, for awhile you stayed like that, being massaged by your boys. You closed your eyes and relaxed, seemingly falling asleep.
Satoru smirked as he bended down and very slowly pulled down your skirt. Suguru sighed and spoke quietly as to not disturb you
“Let her rest, Satoru” he said “oh, she’ll be resting when I’m done with this pretty cunt-“ he said. Suguru rolled his eyes but couldn’t help his growing arousal watching Satoru lightly nip at your thighs.
Suguru laid you down in his lap and drew patterns in your cheeks mindlessly, satoru watching with a wide grin as he started playing with your clit, his fingers gently rolling it between his fingers, looking up to see if it had waken you up yet. You stirred and let out a soft sigh, but stayed asleep
Suguru was tapping you awake, not wanting Satoru to go too far if you were too tired. You slightly looked up at him and let out a small moan when you feel Satoru playing with your vagina. Suguru and you exchanged a look before he kissed your sleepy eyes and your hands “Do you want me to tell him to stop?” He whispered. You shook your head.
Satoru pouted at Suguru “hey! I wanted her to stay asleep” he whined “it’s fine, you can continue” you said sleepily, your words accompanied with a yawn. He smirked and dived right back in, kissing and kitten licking your clit. Your core tightened when he looked up at you with those bright blue eyes, and you let out a soft moan. Suguru took that as initiative to ‘help’ Satoru..
“Keep your pretty eyes on him, baby. Don’t look at me, I can’t help you” he smirked as he spoke, moving your head to look at Satoru.
You squeezed your thighs, Satoru chuckling as he felt them against his head, as if giving him more incentive to pursue your pussy.
He gripped your thighs as he tongue swirled around your clit, eventually trailing to your entrance, he stopped. Then he started bitting and nipping as your thighs, you groaned out a “Satoru, please..”
He just laughed and continued taking his sweet time. Suguru kissed his neck and sucked, leaving hickeys as he watched the display going on underneath him. He moved his hand and stroked your thigh, you bit your lip as you could only watch as Satoru became more daring. You ran your hands through his white hair, grasping at it as he finally stuck his tongue in your entrance. Your back arched against suguru while his hand came down to toy with your clit, pinching it at every wave of arousal. “How does that feel, pretty? Good, yes?” Suguru whispered as you rolled your hips into satorus face.
He was relentless, barely even coming up for gasps of air as he ate you eat, your slick coating him mouth and tongue. Sugurus hard-on poked your back, you let out a breathy gasp. “Satoru.. please don’t stop” you said, moans interjecting your sentences
He smirked into your folds and continued eating you out, like a starved man. Funny, he thought, you made fun of him when he wolfed down his food but you were awfully quiet when he was wolfing down you
You gasped when you felt your orgasm crash over you, biting down hard on your lip as your walls tightened around Satoru. Immedietly after your high, he dug his fingers. You cried out
“Satoru! Please—I just—“ suguru turned your head and kissed your lips, his hand going down to massage your thighs, heightening your senses. “Gimme a hand here, she’s very tight…” Satoru said to suguru.
Sugurus other hand went to your vagina and stuck a finger in, stretching you out for Satoru, who kept hitting your most sensitive spots. You gasped and let out a string of loud moans. Suguru removed his hand from your thigh and used it to put his hand under her chin, squeezing your cheeks.
As yet another orgasm came over you, they put you on your hands and knees, you know what was coming next, but you weren’t sure if your overstimulated clit was ready. “You know the word, babe”he said, referring to your safe word
Satoru undid his belt, releasing his cock- it was longer than sugurus, but you knew sugurus was thicker. Without warning he shoved into your clit, mumbling words of praise. You gasped for air and grinder your teeth. Sugurus dick was far too close to your clenched mouth for comfort, he reached a hand to your jaw. “you might want to open your mouth, pretty girl” he said. You saw his piercing on his dick, the small round ball you already know you’re gonna feel in your mouth
You obediently open your mouth and shut your eyes when you feel him thrush inside and immedietly he’s hitting the back of your throat. You gag on his length, tears spilling as you feel the stimulation from both of them let alone his metal piercing hitting the inside of our mouth. Suguru cooes to you, but is grunting.
Satoru is full out moaning praising your pussy like it’s a god “Fuck baby, so tight, so tight for me” he let out a long string of moans “‘m ‘m gonna destroy this beautiful— this beautiful cunt-“ he groaned, bucking his hips to
Suguru let out an airy laugh as you were pulled and tugged by your hair on his twitching penis.
Satoru felt you tighten and he chuckled, swallowing and making a quiet ‘haa’ noise at the sight of your aching hole swallowing him up so nicely.
For the, what, third time? You felt your core tighten impossibly
Suguru rubbed your hips through your high, watching Satoru come with you as he grips your ass hard and smacks it. You let out a sharp cry, and suguru puts his hands on your cheeks as if to loosen your jaw. When your throat tightens around him, he ruts farther into your mouth and throws his head back, shooting strings of his seed down your throat. You tried swallowing as much as you could. He removed himself from your mouth, Satoru letting you cockwarm him for a few seconds before pulling out of your leaking hole.
You fell onto your tummy, suguru let out a small laugh, after a long day and a good dicking-down, needless to say you were tired. There was a mix of cum on the couch, you sporting your unbuttoned shirt and ruined panties.
“You’re nasty, Satoru-“
“You just fucked her throat!”
“I thought you ‘destroyed her pretty cunt?’” Suguru bit back. Satoru blushed and rolled his eyes. He never thought straight when he was mid-orgasm.
Suguru picked you up, he would almost say you were dramatic from the way you were limp in his arms, but you were just too cute as you stared up at him with half lidded eyes. “Let’s all go take a warm bath, yes? Our beautiful girl needs to be taken care of.” He rubbed your cheek and brought you to the bathroom, satoru following behind, watching your blissed-out face, mouth open, whimpering still.
They brought you to the bathroom, turning on the hot water. Purposely when they got this apartment, they made sure there was a big bathroom that would fit the three of them.
Suguru placed you gently in the water, letting the water run over your body as he put in a bathbomb. Satoru got in, already looking at the bath bomb. He was a little shaky too, but not as much as you.
Suguru got in and they both took care of you, washing and massaging your sore body while you relaxed.
Satoru reached for his phone and ordered your favorite food, Suguru peaking as he scrubbed your scalp with shampoo, praises littering his mouth.
After the bath, you guys all ate in bed. They fed you like a princess and her suitors while you laughed about it. Suguru cleaned up the dishes and they laid you down, throwing blankets over the three of you and Satoru cuddling close
That’s when you realized you had forgotten all about the stress from earlier that day
#jjk x reader#satosugu x reader#satoru x reader#suguru x reader#jjk smut#smut#threes0me#jjk#geto x reader#gojo x reader#aftercare#first smut#satoru smut#gojo smut#suguru geto smut#suguru smut#suguru geto x reader#satoru gojo smut
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ʜᴀɴᴋᴇʀɪɴ' ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ
✭ pairing(s): boothill x gn reader
✩ in which: boothill's been quiet since he came back from penacony. way too quiet.
✧ a/n: little by little im chipping away at my depressive episode and building my motivation again
✦ taglist: @fffrost, @shinysora
🗒 cw: gn reader, 2.6 spoilers, mention of torture, hurt/comfort, not proofread
✎ wc: 2.4k
Ever since his most recent trip to Penacony, Boothill had been spacing out more when he got home. He insisted, very firmly, that you stay at home this time, leaving no room for any discussion. You were to stay home no matter what, and if he found you had tried to sneak out, even to the town, there would be words to be had. He was never this demanding, and he never barred you from going out. Yet when he told you, there was a certain look in his eyes. Fear. Something so rare within him that it made you obey without a word of protest. Now that he is back, he hasn’t been as energetic as you’re used to. In fact, he had practically stayed glued to the couch.
You could poke and prod at him and he wouldn’t so much as smirk, and you hadn’t even gotten so much of a squeak out of him aside from why he had left in the first place. Despite his victory, he was just… quiet. You wake up to him staring at the ceiling, chewing on his lip. Even though he doesn’t necessarily need sleep, he’s always cuddling up to you when you go to sleep. So when you wake up next to him (quite a rare sight), it’s odd.
Not just that, but you notice he spends an oddly long time gazing out over the plains that surround your house, nearly unphased when you poke and squeeze at his cheeks. It’s not that he is entirely silent the whole time, but his words are few and far between. You can’t remember the last time he’d been so lost in thought.
After the third day, you’ve decided you’ve had enough. It was fine if he didn’t want to talk about it (though you are certain it would help), but you were starting to miss Boothill’s voice, or the silly things he would do. So, you catch him on the couch while he’s charging, deciding to lay on top of him. Cheek to cheek, you press into him with a smile.
“Hi,” You say simply. Boothill doesn’t react much, looking up at you with his eye and a small grin.
“Hey, darlin’,” He responds, his voice quiet.
“Whatcha thinkin’ about?”
“Mh, nothin’,” Boothill sighs, shifting awkwardly just a little beneath you. You raise your eyebrow, and he sighs, admitting defeat so easily. “Okay. Thinkin’ about a lot.”
“Care to share?”
“I dunno sugar, it’s kinda heavy,”
“Heavy is the cost.”
A silence stretches between the two of you, as Boothill ruminates over whether or not to share what’s on his mind. You lean further into him, draping yourself over him like a blanket, even though he wasn’t necessarily the most comfortable person to lay on. You weren’t going to say it out loud, and you have spent hours on him before, so it wasn’t necessarily a problem. There were days where his body was the most wonderful thing to lay on, when he had been lounging in the sun and you had been unbearably cold for Aeons knows what reason. In moments like those, he was like your own space heater.
“Well, I mean, there was a lot goin’ on in Penacony, and all these mind games, and…” Boothill sighs, his body relaxing slightly as he pulls an arm out from under you and slings it over your waist. “Got to rememberin’ a lot of things. Stuff I ain’t exactly keen on thinkin’ about. Now I can’t stop.”
“Do you think telling me about it would help?” You purse your lips, blinking at him inquisitively.
“Haven’t I yapped enough? I swear you ask me about all o’ this at least once a week,” He pokes at your side, causing you to squirm and yelp, before he takes hold of your waist and readjusts both of you, so he’s sitting up and cradling you in his lap. “Gonna make me talk til my jaw falls off, you know that?”
“I’m sorry…”
“Don’t apologize, darlin’,” Boothill smiles, something gentle despite his normally cocky grin. “I know you mean well. You’re the only one I like talkin’ to about this stuff, anyways.”
You tilt your head, silently asking him to continue. For a moment he doesn’t get the hint, raising his brow and chewing on his lip. He’s always been avoidant of such topics like the past, not that you could squeeze much out of him regardless. The most he let you know was of his family, specifically why he held a grudge against the IPC, and who he held a grudge against. Not to mention, he doesn’t enjoy talking things out much. He enjoys venting whatever’s gnawing at him in other ways, such as shooting. Still, he always seems to relent when you ask…
“Ah! Uhm, well…” He wraps both his arms around you, finally sitting up. He readjusts, making sure you’re seated comfortably in his lap. “They got me thinkin’ about when I was a kid… Well, more than that, really. Hard to explain.”
“I can listen all day. I like your voice.” You reply smugly.
“I– That’s not what I meant…” He chuckles sheepishly, shaking his head. “It was like a… hm. Felt like the kind of stuff the IPC had done to me when they caught me.”
Suddenly, you don’t know how to react. Your flirty demeanor drops, and so does your smile. Part of you didn’t think it’d be this kind of conversation. While he said it was heavy, you really didn’t think it’d be on the same level. Boothill sighs, patting your back lightly at your reaction.
“It ain’t that bad. I’m back home now, right? All in one piece.” He consoles, his voice just a tinge softer than before.
“Yeah, but–”
“It didn’t do much to me, really. Just got me thinkin’,” He shrugs so nonchalantly, like torture is something he’s used to. “You asked, right? Lemme continue.”
With a huff, you concede. He strokes through your hair leisurely at your complacence, taking another moment to enjoy the quiet moment. As if what he was about to explain wasn’t something as terrifying as torture.
“It was somethin’ goin’ on with Dr. Primitive. Or at least, someone who aspired to be like him. Really odd thing, actually. With these monkeys and bananas, people wanted to become one. People were becoming one. Freaky, really. I mean, the things were cute n’ all… Not the point.” He takes a deep breath, “Some sort of induction… they… I don’t know how they did it, but they were able to bring back some sort of past version of me…? Took almost everything from me, voice, hearing, colors, sight, anger… they took it all. And suddenly, I felt like I was a kid again.”
The silence continues, while you ponder if anything you’ll say will be right, or okay. There’s not much you can think of to say, without sounding out of place. Dr. Primitive was one thing, and something horrifying at that, but the monkeys threw you off. Furthermore, what Boothill had described made your body feel… cold. It felt like it was one step away from wiping his memory completely.
“What’s with that look?” He chuckles, shaking off the heavy air so easily. “You asked me to tell you, right?”
“Yeah…” You sigh. It’s still quite hard to wrap your mind around such things, but you do your best to ignore it.
“Now you sound all sad. C’mon, I’m alive, ain’t I? Plus, I think I do feel a little better now that I think about it…”
His voice tapers off at the end, before pursing his lips as if he was thinking. Again. Before you can ask him what else he’s got on his mind, his eyes light up. Without so much as a grunt, he picks you up and sets you down on the floor.
“Here, actually, I think I’ve figured out somethin’,” He says, placing a hand on the small of your back as he leads you to the front door. He makes no further effort to explain what he meant, simply choosing to lead you off with a smile.
As he opens the door, light spills into the cabin. The land looks practically golden, you’ve forgotten just how beautiful the plains are at sunset. When you two step out on the porch, a light breeze greets you, wading through the grass. Boothill lets out another chuckle, before stepping off the porch. He stands still for a moment, appreciating the art of the world, the way the wind whispered across the grass, the birds in the distance and their song, and finally, he lets out a content sigh.
“Can’t say it’s as beautiful as Aeragan-Epharshel, but…” He begins, looking back at you for a moment, waving you closer. “It’s close enough…”
“What do you mean?” You finally take a step down off the porch. He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer with an even bigger smile.
“All that work they did, well it gave me a hankerin’ for the past,” He takes a deep breath, his voice wavering ever so slightly. “Don’t like thinkin’ about it too much cause then I miss it even more.”
He cocks his head down at you, before his hand slides from your waist to your own, interlocking fingers. They’re not cold, for once, about body temperature. Perhaps that’s what you get for laying on top of him. He starts to lead you through the grass, his other hand gliding over the soft blades, sometimes grabbing at one just for the fun of it. However, there’s a certain sadness pulling at his face, his stride, even. He’s quiet for another minute, before he stops.
“It’s odd only feelin’ the wind in my hair.” He states, allowing nature to fill the silence once more.
“Boothill…” You mutter, reluctantly wiggling your hand out of his, reaching up to cup his cheek instead.
“It’s okay, sugar, I don’t need any pity,” Despite his words, he leans into your touch so easily, eyes fluttering closed. “Just… expressin’ myself.” After a beat, he opens his eyes and looks back out on the landscape, sighing softly. “I miss all the mischief I’d get into. After I’d finished my work on the ranch, I’d… run off somewhere, mostly off to the town. I’d get into all sorts of trouble just to keep myself from gettin’ bored. So I could get a chance to run through the fields again.”
He turns to you with a somber look in his eyes, as if he’d tear up. Not that he could, he’d lost that function long ago. His hands fall to your waist, gripping gently at the fabric of your shirt.
“There’s nothin’ quite like that feelin’. Runnin’ through the fields, the wind in your hair, stingin’ your cheeks and fingers, heart beatin’ fast as you find somewhere to hide…” He continues. Again, his voice wavers, and he swallows. He does his best to hold off on his own sadness, something he hadn’t allowed himself to properly feel for Aeons knows how long. “I guess I sorta get it still… bein’ wanted ‘n’ all… but it ain’t the same. It ain’t never been the same since…”
He ducks his head, the wind causing his hair to obscure his face. His hat dips, and you raise your hand to catch it. You don’t know what else to do. You haven’t seen Boothill this sad, ever. He’s always so rowdy and practically radiant, and yet now he’s dour, forcing himself to get his words through. He sniffles, then lets out a choked sound that goes straight to your heart. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him in close and squishing your face against his chest. The minute your arms meet his body, he mirrors the gesture. He practically crumbles in your arms, knees buckling as if he were flesh and bone, sliding down in your arms until his knees are planted firmly in the ground beneath you. In turn he presses his ear to your chest, listening to the gentle sound of your beating heart. At this, he grasps your shirt so tightly, pulling you impossibly closer, letting out another whine.
You pet through his hair, doing your best to still your own thoughts. Not only have you never seen Boothill sad before, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so… weak. Especially on the topic of his past. He could always speak of Clementine, of Nick and Gray, even of his hatred for the IPC with such confidence. Never once did his voice break, did his scowl turn into a frown. His body is wracked with shudders, biting his lip to quiet his sobs.
You two stay like that for a couple of more minutes, Boothill clinging onto you for dear life while you did your best to comfort him, scratching at his scalp and shushing him gently, whispering all sorts of cliche things to calm him down. Eventually, he finally lets up, with a soft breath. His grip weakens on your clothes, and he stands up. When he does, you card your fingers through his hair, moving his bangs from his face. He can’t help but let out a weak chuckle, allowing you to enjoy the feeling.
“M’sorry honey,” He mutters, his shoulders sagging slightly. “Didn’t mean to get all gloomy like that.”
“It’s fine, really,” You smile, your fingers lingering in his hair, before pulling away. “I think you needed it.”
“I… probably,” He sighs, “Just got too caught up in… all of this.”
Still, he nudges you, hand finding yours once more. He squeezes it, before leading you back to the cabin. The wind started to bite, the sun just peaking over the horizon as the sky went from orange and pink, to pink and purple. The clouds waned, the stars just barely visible as you two walked back. The silence is comfortable now, a small smile tugging at Boothill’s lips. He opens the door for you, taking one last look at the plains, before stepping in and closing the door.
“I’ll make dinner, then,” He says triumphantly, clearly feeling lighter than before. “As an apology. For makin’ you see me like that.”
“You don’t have t–”
“I want to, sugar. Let me? Please?” He cocks his head to the side, his smile turning gentler.
You wouldn’t fight it, either way. Despite how much he’s enjoyed literal bullets and oil, you wouldn’t dare stop him from cooking. He was like an angel, really, almost terrifyingly good in the kitchen. While you wanted to say that he didn’t have to apologize, if his cooking was on the line, you’ve found no choice but to concede.
© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | discord server | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.
#⁺◟freyito#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#boothill x reader#boothill hsr x reader#boothill x you#boothill hsr x you#hsr x you
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“i hope so. i mean, i’ve already missed out on so many milestones, so many important events. i want to be a part of his life again, want him to know that he can actually count on me.” of course, it will take time, but billy won’t give up. “that’s good. i didn’t know you were such a lightweight, though, lucy gray,” he teases, gently elbowing her side. “maybe i could repost them or share them with my friends? manuela really loves handmade quilts. i think she’s still lookin’ for one for the baby’s nursery.” his follower count keeps growing, and maybe he could use his platform to promote mama baird’s shop. do something good. “i spoke to her this mornin’, don’t know if you overheard any of that? i cried, think she might have shed a tear or two, too,” he admits bashfully, just wanting to let her know he’s serious about all this — he wants to come back and stay in their lives, be his old self again. “aww, look at the little one, does the baby have a name yet? you’re such a good bonus momma, lucy gray. oh, that’s a big gulp. it’s gonna be a big, strong horsey one day.” gushing as she shows him the video, his heart meting into a puddle. her love for animals is admirable. she’s so naturally sweet and nurturing. “oh, i am, don’t worry ‘bout it. i stay vigilant, always have a helmet on. i’ll take you on a ride one day if you’re not too scared,” he teases, poking her cheek because he can tell that she’s genuinely concerned about his safety. blair never gave a shit. he clearly did the right thing by breaking up with her. “you still have to meet ‘em. they’re great people. i’ll arrange something when you get to new york. they’ve heard so many stories about you, bet they’re dying to actually speak to you.” a sweet smile tugs at the corners of billy’s lips, just thinking about finally introducing his childhood best friend to these kind people has him feeling all warm inside. they’ll love her. “hey, if your schedule isn’t too busy by the time we start workin’ on season two, you can always join me or visit for a day or two.” the driver eventually pulls up in front of the steakhouse, and billy thanks him for getting them there, makes sure to tip him in the app before climbing out and circling around the car to open the door for lucy gray.
“it will take time, but as long as you try and be patient with him even when it feels hopeless— things will mend back together.” it’ll show he’s actually got a good big brother side to him, after all. “it feels better. thank you for askin’. that nap helped a lot.” still a little tired, but for the most part, she’s bounced back to life. “i can probably dig up some pictures on her business facebook page.” there’s a lot of pictures of her quilts, toys and shirts and things on there, she remembers. “oh, i’ll be sure to tell her that then.” that he’s kept that sweater of hers, it’ll make her happy. “well— she is one of the horses we took in, her name is moon. i got to bottle feed the baby and it was an adorable experience,” lucy gray laughs, opening her camera roll to the video of her feeding the foal a bottle. the video making her warmly smile at how adorable the baby horse looks sucking on a bottle. “mhm.” her response to maude ivory who is an angel but also a little mischievous. “a motorcycle? oh, no. i hope you’re bein’ extra safe. too many cars have too many reckless drivers in them, that make motorcyclist vulnerable.” they’re bad enough here, let alone in new york. the thought he’s into motorcycles now doesn’t create any happiness across her face as she’s looking down at her phone then closing the screen back off. “that’s wonderful, i’m happy for your friends.” the news of someone starting a family lifts a smile back up on her face as doe eyes flicker on his face, accidentally finding a glimpse of his mouth and her brain doing this weird thing of reminding her how he has such pretty lips. the way his mouth is shaped— the way his lips kind of do this curl thing , there’s something so attractive and prince charming about it. something significant in the way god carved out his mouth and chin area, because she certainly never notices that about anyone else’s lips. then lucy gray realizes she should stop thinkin’ about this all together. “oh, yeah,” eyes quickly returning on his blue gaze, “i would really like to see that set. i love playin’ dress up an’ i love horses,” she agrees peppily, grinning shyly for unknown reasons.
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singer!reader, guitarist!till, sexual tension on stage, performing together, suggestive, gender neutral reader
song inspired — judas ( guitar cover )
something about till playing his guitar to a thousand people who cheered, screamed, voices calling him while he is on stage, eyes fixated on yours,
fingers moving with precision and meaning every glance he stole.
with no intention of scaring you away, white strands of hair sticking to his forehead before he catches you staring, microphone touching the soft of your lips as you whispering to the device, the voice of who made him almost instinctively lick his own
feet moving as if there was no one else performing there, just the two of you, a slow, subtle but sensual dance,
invisible to others, the intensity in his eyes drowning in the very sight of you, claiming you as his when his breath would hang in the last of each verse.
having you to himself without touching you, without screaming to the world and making you known to them,
one knee to the ground, the other following and as you both surrender yourselves to the lights above the stage, luring you to get under his spell,
till’s guitar would be resting against his chest, fingers fast on the strings as he kneeled in front of you, playing his instrument to make you see him.
voice faltering but returning with more force, you would step forward, glancing down to the man on your feet and running a free hand to your hair, pushing it back when you smoothly bend your body to his direction
whispering the lyrics to what you hold firmly on your hand, gaze never wavering or backing away from till’s, who looked back at you through his eyelashes
tilting his neck up, he would play with such devotion, drops of water from his body to the fabric of his clothes, worshipping the ground you walked on and making the stage your kingdom.
him, watching you reciprocate with the same intensity, smirked more to himself than you, the corners of his lips going up ever so slightly as he tilted his head to the side,
eyeing you, mostly sizing you up, loyal to the rytmh you were going for and so damn sure the lights were on you, ethereal and so close for him to reach,
letting the main chorus in, you would take a breath, more of a chuckle, watching him not bothering to look at how his own hand worked on the guitar, "keeping up with me, yeah?"
"always," flashing you a light grin, the white-haired one would not get up just yet, "unless you don't want me to."
"no," it was quick to leave your mouth, muttering that single sentence in silence, but with a hint of desperation. "it's good, i like it,"
"just surprised to see you like..."
sparing you an answer, till smirked when getting himself up first in one leg, body used to the thrill and loud cheering, the strong drums on the background when he got the other,
off the ground, but not that he was bothered to stay on his knees for you.
painfully smooth to your eyes as he lifted the guitar and sent a single last sound on the air, piercing through the sound of your voice, echoing around the stadium and shaking emotions you secretly was scared about,
scared, but never of him. the fall would be worth it, that was what you were certain of.
#. ◟⠀ 𖩨 c. writing ㅤ#alien stage x reader#till alien stage x reader#till x reader#gender neutral reader#singer!reader#guitarist!till#suggestive#getting my brainrot off my head
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A Weekend to Remember 💕
Summary: Terry wants to give his girlfriend Siya (Sigh-ya) a peaceful weekend away at his place to help her loosen up after a rough week. 🩵
Warnings: Some smut 💋 and 420 friendly 🍃
This is my first fanfic y’all so take it easy on your girl. It’s been a while! lol. Enjoy!!!
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Terry POV
Friday Night 🌙
My girl Siya, who I’ve been seeing for about five months now, has been expressing her frustration with work all week. I’m not quite sure what her exact job title is but I know she works with badass kids and intense parents everyday in the school system. I’ve always admired her patience with people on a daily. I told her I do labor and engineering work for a reason cause I’d catch a case. Nonetheless, I know she needs an outlet and frankly, just a good time so she can let her hair down a bit. I can admit I’ve been slightly negligent to my lady’s feelings recently due to my own work being a shit storm with high volumes of orders and requests needing to be completed. A couple nights in a row I’ve been falling asleep on her mid conversation from pure exhaustion. I know that stings her a bit because we don’t live together and she really treasures our nightly FaceTime calls. She lives about 35 mins away from me on the other side of the county so anytime I get to see her face I try to make it last. I know she knows I still love her and I’m here for her like always but I’m the type of man to show it. Especially when I know I’ve been slacking a bit.
On the way home from work today, on a high from finally making it to Friday, I text Siya to let her know my plans.
T: Hey babe, hope your work day ended on a high note today. I want you to pack a bag to stay over my place for the weekend. I wanna show you how much I’ve missed you all week.. I’ll be there to get you around 6. I love you ❤️
S: Oooo you got plans plans huh? 😏 lol ok baby, I’ll be ready when you get here. Just let me know when you’re on the way 😘
I smile down at my phone at her response. She always finds a way to make me laugh. That’s why this weekend I want her to feel like she’s fully taken care of. My girl is the kind of woman who loves detail but loves simplicity even more. She loves good vibes and ambience.. she loves to be able to take in all the small joys around her and revel in them while spreading that same feeling to the people around her. It made me think about what I wanted to plan for us this weekend. I want to take Siya’s mind off of all her stress and worries and I have to be quick because I only have about 2 hours until I pick Siya up…
Siya POV
That text from Terry made my day. I haven’t stopped smiling since I got it just as I was about to sprint to my car after calling it a day at work. Don’t get me wrong, I love aspects of my job but the mental rigor of trying to put out fires everyday is A LOT. I was just starting to get annoyed with Terry actually, he’s been seeming a bit distant and uninterested but those thoughts faded away as soon as I read that text. If there’s one thing I know about my man its that he’s thoughtful when it counts and loves to prove it.
Getting home to my quiet condo, I drop all my stuff in my office room then head straight to my bathroom to shower off all the angst of the day. Blasting some Summer Walker and Kehlani while the hot water slowly soothes my body into relaxation. I make sure to shave and moisturize something serious not yet knowing exactly what Terry has planned. I just have a feeling it’s going to make me fall in love with him even more.
After my shower, I decided to fix something small to eat to hold me over and then pack my bag for a stay at my man’s.
*phone vibrates*
T: I’m heading to you now babygirl 🩵
S: Ok be safe ❤️ see you soon daddy 💋
I don’t know what it is but Terry still makes me giddy and nervous. I can’t stop checking my hair and light makeup in the mirror just to make sure nothing is out of place. If he knew I was taking what I looked like so serious, he would reprimand me saying you look beautiful regardless, don’t trip but hey, I’m just a girl with nerves!
Dressed in a causal three piece cozy fit, perfect for this fall weather and brisk evenings, I wait for Tory to arrive while chilling on my living room couch. Just as I start to feel a little antsy my phone vibrates again.
T: Come open your door for me beautiful
Without texting back, I hop out of my seat and speed walk to the door with a smile. I open the door to find my tall, muscular, ocean eyed teddy bear of a boyfriend dressed in a hoodie and joggers to match.
“There she is” he says before softly pulling me into his arms and lifting me into a tight hug. He smells so good..
“Hey baby, I missed you so much” I say before planting a kiss on his soft, plump lips.
“I’ve missed you too baby girl. More than you know. Come on, let me get your bag for you” He says slightly brushing past me into the living room to grab my pink duffle bag. “You ready, mama?”
Terry POV
It feels so good having Siya next to me again. It’s only been about a week and a half since I’ve last seen her in person but right now let me know that’s too long without her. Her soft, luscious, radiant skin. Her fragrance that always smells like something sweet that makes me hungry for her. Head full of curls and that amazing smile that still makes my heart skip a beat. I’m sprung, no doubt. I can’t keep my hands off her as I hit the highway heading back to my place. My free hand found its way in between the heat of her thighs and rested there for comfort as I gripped the steering wheel. Snoh Alegra playing from my truck speakers and our heads bobbing to the smooth tunes. I look over at Siya softly singing the words and I crack a smile involuntarily. Call me corny but I made a playlist just for this ride back so I knew she’d be feeling it.
“You know this is my song” She says with a playful smirk while dancing in her seat.
“Yeah I know love”
Siya went back to her karaoke as i focused on not missing a turn right up ahead of us. As soon as I made the turn off our usual route, Siya stops her concert and looks at me with curious eyes.
“Where we going?” She asks
“Just a little detour babe, don’t worry” I reassure her grabbing onto her hand to hold.
I could tell my words put her at ease. I watch her lean back in her seat to take in the beautiful sunset outside our car windows. The sky barely lit but just above the horizon it’s painted a firey bright orange with clouds leaving small traces of purple and blue. Approaching our destination, I see Siya sit up, peeking out of the windows to take in the view before us. A walking park adorned with vast land scattered with trees and a beautiful lake front that provided a perfect view to watch the remainder of the sunset. The area is empty and barely any cars drive past at this time of day. Perfect for a chill ass smoke session to get my girl right for this relaxing weekend I got planned for her.
Siya POV
Terry is always up to something I tell ya. I’ve always appreciated the effort and thought he puts into the things he does for me. No matter how little or large. Terry knows I’m a sentimental nostalgic who loves taking in sunsets and sunrises. I mean, I couldn’t even count the amount of moon photos I have in my camera roll too. He also knows I don’t take the time to enjoy these things as much as I’d like to. To just be present.. with a beautiful view.
“Let’s sit at these benches over here” Terry said taking my hand and leading me to our seats near the lake.
“This is beautiful Terry. How do you know about this place?”
“Me and a homeboy of mine use to come here and go fishing sometimes. We even came out here just to chill. Get our minds right” Terry reaches into this hoodie pocket, “So, with my beautiful lady having the hard week she did.. I figured we’d start this weekend with some reallll relaxation” he declares pulling out a thick cigar blunt with a playful, big cheesy smile.
Terry and I have smoked together before but it’s been quite a while. Shortly after we started dating we both decided to take a tolerance break and focus on work and being a bit healthier. Not to say we didn’t break our pact from time to time but it has definitely been a couple months since I faced a fat blunt.
“When did you start smoking again?” I ask genuinely curious.
“Right now. I figured since work has been kicking both of our asses, we deserve this. You deserve this,” He says lighting the blunt and passing it to me. Instantly the thick weed smoke and scent hit my nose and brought back all those fond memories of getting high and letting my worries roll off of me like water.
I take a deep breath and allow the smoke to hit my chest. I hold it for a few seconds before a deep harsh cough escapes my throat.
“Take it easy, babe” Terry said laughing while patting my back.
“Oh whatever! It’s been a while” I snap back at him out of a little embarrassment of my fragile lungs. I take another puff and force myself to keep in the smoke long enough to feel the after effects.
“You good mama?” Terry asks me as I pass him back the blunt.
“Yeah I’m good. This shit is hitting me nice..” I say leaning back into the bench, letting my body and mind unwind. I start to listen to the gentle wind of the night breezing past my ears, the lake in front of me rippling from the wind. It’s so peaceful. I feel Terry’s arm cradle my shoulders from be side, providing extra warm from the cool breeze. We continued to pass back and forth until our blunt became a roach. The lowering sun completely gone but now the fluorescent moonlight took its place. It gave us ample light reflecting from the shimmering lake. I could feel every bit of my body soften and loosen up. My head lay back to rest on Terry’s buff arm still wrapped around me. We were both pretty quiet enjoying our high and the tranquility around us. I look over to Terry to make sure he’s okay only to meet his incredible grey eyes, low and hazy from the marijuana, already locked on me.
“How you feeling?” He asks deep in tone, his gaze still stuck on me.
“Good. I feel great actually”
“Good. I’m glad to hear, babe. Come here…” Terry whispers before grabbing me around my waist and pulling me into his lap. Never taking his eyes off me. I was starting to really get lost in them. All I could picture was the last time we fucked, soaking my satin panties as I clinch my thighs on Terry’s lap. My eyes gaze down to his juicy pink lips that just seem to be calling my name. Without hesitation, i pull Terry in for a passionate kiss. Lips smacking and soft biting making us both groan into each other’s mouths. I could feel Terry’s thick bulge grow stiffer below me as he shifts my booty on his lap to help adjust himself. He let out a soft moan before placing lewd, wet kisses all over my neck.
“Terry you know that makes me weak” I moan out as he hits all my spots causing me to quiver.
Ignoring my plea, gripping onto my thighs, he continues to place warm kisses on my neck and slowly down my chest. Suddenly he stops and looks up at me. The moonlight beaming out of his now dark clouded eyes. He sits up, gently moving me off his lap and back on the bench before standing up and starting to take off his hoodie. I bite my lip watching him undress, revealing a white tee hugging his defined abs and massive arms. I quietly stare up at him from my seat, heat rising within me from anticipation, wondering what’s next to come. Also forgetting that we’re technically in public.
I’m high as shit.
“Lay back on my hoodie babygirl” Terry says softly while stretching his hoodie out on the bench space beside me. I do as he ask and lay my heated back to the wood bench to rest. Terry, now sitting by my feet and smirking down at me, slowly turns to me with his eyes still intensely on me, lifts my legs and places them firmly over his shoulders. Now I get the hint..
“Take these off” he whispers before licking his lips and pulling at my pants with authority.
I lift my lower body to assist him in slipping my pants and panties off in one quick swipe. The cool air hit my bare legs and made me clinch my legs shut.
“Open up for me, babe” Terry commands sliding his large body back on the bench and lowering his head right above my wet, aching pussy. “I got the munchies.. but all I wanna snack on is you”
With a sloppy, wet kiss to my throbbing clit, Terry began to devour my pussy like his last meal. I couldn’t help but to moan loudly as he slurps and licks me with purpose. One thick swipe of his tongue after another. As he playful darts his tongue in and out of my pussy and tenderly rubs my pulsing clit, I stare up at the stars above. Thanking God and the universe that I’ve found this man.
“Ahhhh Terry.. this feels so fucking good babyyy” I cry out reaching for the bench arm rest behind my head for leverage.
“Mmm.. you taste so damn good mama.. I could eat you all night..” he spoke with all his concentration still on my leaking pussy. Suddenly feeling two thick fingers slowly sliding into me, I arch my back out of pure ecstasy.
“Fuuuuck” I cry out letting Terry quicken his pace. Beginning to feel an amazing but unfamiliar pressure build within me.
“Pussy clenching up baby, you about to cum?”
“Oh my god… Terry!” I shout unable to explain what I was feeling. Silence falls as nothing but the sound of Terry’s fingers slipping in and out of me and his slurping and smacking fill the air. My eyes close shut and I swear even with them closed, I can still see stars. Suddenly, a loud gush erupts from my slippery center.
“God damn..” Terry groans staring at my pussy forming a puddle below him with a look of pride and accomplishment.
“Did you just make me squirt?!” I asks out of pure shock. Did I really just squirt on my boyfriend on a public bench?
“Hell yeah I did. You got me and my hoodie soaked baby girl” he says with a chuckle and a menacing smirk.
“Oh my god” I say laughing to myself, covering my face as Terry lifts me up to hold me in his arms, face to face.
“Aww none of that now. Shit, that was fucking amazing. I didn’t know you could squirt like that, mama. I find it sexy.. lets me know I’m doing all the right things.. maybe I should get you high and eat you out more often” he suggest with that enticing smile of his.
“Yeah maybe” I respond with a smile and gaining a little sense of confidence back. The sound of loud car exhaust approaching made us both grab for our clothes and get dressed. Terry wasn’t lying when he said I soaked his hoodie. Even with it being black I could tell I left the majority of it damp and knew he’d be cold in this frigid wind as we walk back to his truck.
“I’m sorry again about that Babe” I say with my arms crossed in front of me to shield my exposed skin from the breeze.
“You don’t hear me complaining do you? Stop worrying, love. So what I’m drenched? I love that shit. All that matters to me right now is that you feel good.. you gushing all on me like that just shows me you was feeling more than good though.. right baby?” He asks slowly stepping closer to me, forcing my back against the truck door, invading my space in a way that makes my knees almost buckle. Him and these goddamn eyes!!
“Oh I’m more than good..” I almost whisper looking deep into his glistening orbs, feeling like I’m under a trance.
“That’s what I like to hear. Gimme kiss..” Terry says before pulling me into him by the waist and giving me two sweet, wet kisses, “come on, beautiful. Let’s get back on the road. We still got the night ahead of us.”
PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YALL THINK and sorry for any typos 🙈🩷 Depending on feedback I’ll write the rest of the weekend with Tory and Siya 🥰 I have a feeling this is gonna get cute and nasty lmao appreciate y’all! -Kye ✌🏽
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—RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW
❝ MASTERLIST ❞
Steve Harrington x fem!reader
wc: 4.7k
best friends to lovers, making out, slight smut,
prompts: “Kiss me to prove we’re not in love”
Your mouth might’ve ran faster than your brain could process it. At least that’s how it feels when you watch the blush spread over Steve’s cheeks, paired with a frown meant to help keep his composure. “You want me to kiss you?” His voice wavers slightly, checking in to see that his own brain didn’t produce that thought out of thin air. It’s been long since Steve’s felt this nervous and unsure of himself around you, usually he’s all flirty smiles and cheeky words, yet now he’s been reduced to a deafening silence.
“Yes, kiss me so we can prove once and for all that nothing is going on between us.” Arms crossed over your chest after placing the bowl of caramel popcorn down. The most indignant look on your face as you stare at him expectantly from your side of the couch. The blue-ish hue the tv casts onto Steve’s side profile highlights the way his eyes stay wide when the words slip out of your mouth. “We are not Harry and Sally.” You argue with a crooked brow which seems to earn an amused huff from him.
This all started when he brought a new tape home, the hottest release of the year ‘When Harry met Sally…’ At first glance, nothing but a simple rom-com, little did you know it would put you and your best friend in a position you’ve never thought you’d ever end up.
Steve’s been adamant about the movie the whole night, calling it a heartwarming love story, while you, thinking clearly, stood your ground and told him that it ruined the vision of friendship between men and women. Of course he didn’t get it, his love-deprived brain worked in ways you’ll never understand.
“Admit it…” His eyes swiped over your face quickly as his head leaned back against the couch and to the side to face you. That grin of his couldn’t be more cocky. “You’ve thought about me like that at least once.” Almost stating it rather than asking, you shove a foot into his hip, thanks to your laying down position along the length of the couch which kept him in your reach as he occupied the place left on the couch next to your feet. The ‘humf’ sound he makes instinctively at your shove has you rolling your eyes and looking back at the TV screen.
“Kill me if I ever do.” You deadpan, the look on your face is nothing less than serious. His accusation is absurd, how can he think that you’ve ever viewed him as anything other than your best friend? His hands raise in faux defeat with a slightly amused look on his face, his gaze pulling away from you, at least momentarily until you open your mouth to speak again. “You don’t believe me, do you? Oh my god, Harrington, you’re so arrogant!” Huffing, you get up from the couch, padding over the soft, fluffy carpet the Harringtons recently bought for their living room.
Despite the coffee table topped to the brim with snacks and drinks you feel the need for a glass of water instead of a sugary and fizzy beverage. “It’s not a good look on you at all.” You let him know as you tuck some hair behind your ear, pouring yourself a glass of water, hearing his voice ring out from the living room. “So you think I have good looks, huh?”
You’d roll your eyes again at him if you could, but something tells you you’ll end up with a headache if you keep doing that. Taking the glass back with you, you claim your spot onto the couch, this time your legs curling up next to you. The movie long forgotten as it keeps playing on the TV, now only serving illumination purposes, you’re stuck on the disagreement tonight’s movie started.
“You know that’s not what I meant.” You huff. He thinks it’s cute, he loves riling you up from time to time. “You’re crazy if you think I could ever be with you…” The words come out slightly harsher than intended, but he doesn’t seem to take it personal, only faking a gasp, his hand pressing over his heart to try to trick you into feeling guilty. You don’t, not even a little. “Oh honey, how can you be so mean to me?” He almost whines, pouty lips on display, his eyes almost glazing over with the puppy look he’s mastered at this point.
You know this is just ordinary messing around, he’s always poking and prodding you with his words, but something about his suggestion has shifted something inside you. Maybe it’s the thought that he thinks you’re in love with him which…quite frankly, is insane…right? Maybe it’s the way his rhetorics make you want to slap that grin off his face…or maybe, just maybe, instead of slapping you’d like to try a kiss first.
Instead of staring at his stupid brown eyes, you decide to busy yourself with the bowl of caramel popcorn, picking a handful. The taste melts on your tongue which brings you some sort of serenity for a few moments.
The idea which sparks into your head is not appropriate, far from it. What has got you thinking about kissing him again you think you’ll never know, but maybe that’s just the answer. A simple kiss to prove that whatever assumptions he has about your feelings are completely and utterly absurd.
So, you can blame him for pushing it, or you can blame yourself for being so stubborn about proving him wrong. Either way, it brings you back to his shocked face, the words already uttered and too late to be taken back without implying some sort of fear that his suggestion might be true after all. The long and awkward silence almost makes you jab him with a few teasing words, but the way he seems to be a bit shellshocked for the better part of a minute has you keeping it to yourself.
“Kiss you? As in, for real?” You smile, amused by his tone as you nod, the thought brings some butterflies into your stomach but you just assume it’s nerves from having to kiss your best friend. “I’m serious— right here, right now. To get that stupid idea out of your head.” You explain as if it’s the sanest and most logical explanation for this. “It’ll prove we’re not capable of being attracted to one another and that nothing will ever happen between us.”
Steve, after seemingly coming out of his momentarily catatonic state, has already masked his shocked expression and covered it up with that smile you know so well. Shifting to face you on the couch, one leg underneath himself, he seems to be contemplating this before he runs a hand through his hair. “Makes sense.” That’s the conclusion he seems to arrive at as he scoots closer to you on the couch.
The room is still mostly covered by darkness, which makes it harder to see his facial expressions and how his eyes dip to your lips briefly, as if already setting his target on them. His arm is laid over the back of the couch, coming to a stop in front of you once his knee bumps your ankles, making you change your position as you cross your legs and face him too. It doesn’t feel as intimate as the moments before a first kiss should feel, but once again, he’s your best friend…nothing more.
“Wait…” His voice comes out laced with concern, brows pulling together slightly. “Are you sure you won’t fall in love?” Steve asks and you can’t help but let out the breath you’ve been holding up until now, your hand smacking his bicep still settled on the back of the couch. “Oh I'll be fine, not so sure about you though.” Now it’s his time to roll his eyes though you notice the way his lips curl up and his bottom lip tucks between his teeth for a brief moment.
“Alright, Casanova, could you just get to it?” He nods and adjusts his position, not really sure how he needs to approach this. The hand settled in his lap skirts up over your arm, ultimately finding its place on your chin. The way he holds it so gingerly between his thumb and index makes you feel that there’s this sort of nervousness in him just the way it’s in you too. But this is just a kiss to prove him wrong, nothing else.
His eyes find yours and then he’s leaning in, waiting for your reaction, waiting to be shoved away or chided for actually trying to kiss you, but the closer he gets it dawns on him that you want— no, need this to prove him wrong. It bothers him slightly to know you’ll go as far as kissing him to prove that you’re not in love with him and never will be, but he can’t help the sudden thought which pops into his mind, uninvited.
Pulling back slightly to put some distance between your faces again, your eyes narrow curiously, a tinge of annoyance on your features too. “This won’t make it awkward between us, right?” His question makes you sigh, wondering if this whole thing is really a good idea or if it’s just going to make things worse. The last thing you need is to lose your best friend over some stupid rom-com.
“No, Steve, it won’t change anything between us because it doesn’t mean anything.” You assure him, finding it in you to be understanding of his worries. He nods, accepting that it’ll be done and you’ll never speak of it again.
He’s getting into position again, more shuffling and scruffing over the couch as you find a way to rest your legs against one another comfortably. Steve’s hand lifts to your chin again, keeping hold of it softly as he takes one last look at you, starting his approach again. You don’t feel the nerves anymore, truthfully you don’t feel anything, further proving your point that you don’t have any feelings towards him.
You let your eyes fall shut, expecting his kiss as you breach your hand on his knee, not feeling his breath hitch the slightest bit at your touch. It’s so brief that you almost miss it. A chaste peck which only meets your lips for a second. Your eyes open once his hand pulls away and clears his throat, not saying anything.
You should be happy that you felt absolutely nothing during the kiss, yet it still leaves you with a sort of empty, unsatisfied feeling in your chest. You dare to look at him again, a few beats passing before you notice the soft blush dusting his cheeks, though it might as well be the light from the TV.
“See? Nothing.” You press your hands to your thighs, subtly drying them against the material of your sweats as he seemingly agrees with you. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you gaze forwards before your mouth opens again. “You know, that wasn’t really a kiss. Like, a proper kiss.” You twitch your nose as you don’t dare look at him.
“Mhm, yeah…” His bottom lip is stuck between his teeth, the plush flesh catching your interest as it falls freely back into its place. “You’re totally right, we should probably try again.” The thinking process seems to be logical, as if the possibility of looking for another excuse to kiss each other is not even on the table right now. Just two friends making sure they’re not in love, right?
“Okay then, kiss me like you’d kiss Becky, Tina or Amy. Just pretend I’m one of them.” The words make him dizzy. How can he pretend to kiss you like you’re just some girl he wants to spend his night with? You’re so much more than that, though at the same time less. Your connection is too strong to one another, and as if reading his mind, you speak again. “Maybe not like that. But just kiss me like a girl you’re in love with.” His huff comes out with just the right amount of humour.
“I can do that…I think.” His tongue comes out to wet his lips, the way he’s looking at you feels a bit more intimate now. ��Get to it then.” You try to joke as you take a deeper breath, his body already close to yours, making it easier for him to reach out.
The way his skin feels on yours when he cups the side of your face should be the first indicator that this kiss is going to be much different from the first. As if reading your thoughts, his thumb swipes over your cheekbone almost tenderly, eyes falling shut in time with one another, you’re left with the darkness of your eyelids, focusing solely on your other senses.
The musky smell of Steve’s slept in clothes and lingering wafts of toothpaste on his breath, the warm encompassing feeling of his palm on your cheek and the low hum of unintelligible voices since the movie is still playing. The tip of his sharp nose is now tracing over the contour of yours, whereas the first time it was merely just a clumsy bump. You refrain a shudder successfully and you let him go on, carrying a sort of curiosity about what King Steve does to these girls to have them in a chokehold.
And then it happens again, that chaste press of lips on lips, though you keep still and lightly press yourself closer. Just as fast as it comes it goes again, making you furrow your brows. “I th—“ The words get swallowed by him as Steve leans in again, more purposeful, carrying more intent.
Something trashes wildly in your stomach, dare you say butterflies as he parts his lips slightly, coaxing you into a slower open mouthed kiss. You don’t mind, letting him take the lead, following his pace, you’re pleasantly surprised when his tongue tries to enter the mix. You welcome it with your own, brushing wetly over one another while his lips seal over yours.
Without realising, you let your hands come up, one hooking against the back of his neck while the other pushes greedily into his hair. You’re not sure how long it goes on for, though you surely get lost in the way he’s treating you like you mean something more to him. The way his hands touch you, stroking your cheek and holding your hip, the position is still somewhat awkward and stiff, having to meet in the middle, but you don’t mind it that much.
Clearly he does, having to pull you closer, making you slip into his lap to get more comfortable. Settling on his thighs, your knees dig into the leather of his couch while his head tilts back to reach you better. You’re sure your lips will soon turn numb from his ministrations in which you both seem to get lost, clearly forgetting the whole reason you got into the argument in the first place.
Feeling him up, your hands drift over his shoulders and down to his chest, giving the briefest squeeze on it which has him taking a deeper breath in, making you smile against his lips. You’ve fallen into a rhythm, getting accustomed to one another, but everything freezes in place when you hear him.
Confusion etched into your features, your brows twitch together momentarily. “Did you…moan?” The question seems absurd since you’ve heard it clear as day, you couldn’t have missed the way it made your insides clench, your eyes searching his face as you watch the tips of his ears and his cheeks flush a deep red. “Well we’ve been shoving our tongues down each other’s throats, sorry for getting distracted.” He defends, trying to sound as if it’s your fault, looking away to hide the embarrassed look on his face.
Gazing down at him, you take a breath and shift, unintentionally brushing over his lap, his hands tighten on your hips if it’s any indicator to the torment he’s going through. Your lips out of reach, unsure if you’ll even kiss him again after his slip up, your body nothing but a teasing, heating pressure which would be embarrassing to let affect him. But oh how can he keep it together when you’re set on ruining him?
He thinks you know what you’re doing, not when you stare down at him for a brief moment, giving him the idea that you do want him, not when you shift over his lap, and not even when you breach your hands on his shoulders and push him to lay back again, but when your lips press against his for a third time which has his mind rebooting, trying to keep up with the pace you’re setting.
The idea that this was supposed to be just a kiss is now forgotten, the only thing that seems to matter now is kissing his best friend like she’s a girl he’s in love with. Surprisingly, he doesn’t even find it that hard to do, though he doesn’t have the faintest idea as to why.
You can’t help but grab hold of his locks again, so silky and soft through your fingers, giving them the slightest tug experimentally. This time when Steve feels it, he doesn’t moan, not even grunt, what he does though is shamelessly grind up against you. You’d stop the kiss to ask him if he’s hard, but it all feels so good, the way he’s encompassing you in his arms, how he shifts the slightest bit down towards your jaw, in search of sensitive skin. Nails digging lightly into the back of his neck, you gasp when his mouth leaves yours properly and latches onto your neck, lost in the bliss of it all, you grind down again which is enough to make Steve lose his mind.
“Fuck, don’t do that,” His breath sounds strained. “can’t take it—“ His murmur is a rumble against your skin, your whole body warming up at the idea that your best friend can’t contain himself after a simple kiss. Your thighs try to squeeze together at the sound of his voice, instead, squeezing his hips.
Heart drumming, you feel his lips finish up the work on your skin and it doesn’t hit you that it’ll leave a mark, you’re too preoccupied with the way his hands help you grind over his lap to notice. There’s a fire growing between both of you, low and slow, simmering dangerously close.
There’s sudden silence, the tape has no doubt ended, leaving you in a way too intimate silence, only filled by the grunts and gasps shared between you. You know it’s wrong, you shouldn’t be letting a simple kiss get the better of you but Steve doesn’t seem to be bothered at all, letting his needs guide him into stealing another greedy kiss.
Getting light headed, unsure if from his passionate kiss or the lack of oxygen, you’re forced to part, a thin string of spit splitting between the two of you as you look at one another, realising just how wrecked and ravished you both look.
His strands are sticking up at odd angles, his lips flushed a deeper red from all the kissing, just enough to match his cheeks. The collar of his shirt is stretched out a bit, showing a part of his collarbone from where you’d fisted his shirt. The way he’s looking up at you makes it seem like he’s begging for more, his body certainly is with the way he’s still pressing between your thighs, feeling that he’s fighting to contain himself for the sake of the dignity he has left.
Forcing down the lump in your throat with a harsh swallow, you force yourself to move off of him, sliding next to him onto the couch. Settling your hands in your lap, you toy with your fingers, gazing up at the ceiling as he does the same, waiting in silence until your breathing slows down and your mind is a bit more clear.
“You’re a nice kisser,” You mumble the compliment. Calling it nice would be a gross understatement but that’s all you can manage at the moment. Two, Three beats pass before he conjures up a response. “Thanks, you too…nice,”
“Great, um…I guess we proved my point.” Only now remembering what got you in this mess in the first place, you blink and look for your glass of water before you take a sip, the room temperature liquid feeling cold as you drink.
Stubborn.
That’s exactly what you are. It’s been three days since you and Steve broke the dam and started a metaphorical flood of thoughts and feelings. You haven’t seen him since, not that you’re looking forward to the awkward silence and new weird dynamic. Some part of you wishes you’d just accepted the defeat without having to prove anything, while the other can’t help but think back to that kiss, maybe the best one of your life.
It’s on Saturday night that Robin calls and invites you over for a movie night. Just the mere thought of it has your blood warming up, but you can’t let him keep you away from your shared friend group. You’ll just have to…ignore him.
Easier said than done.
You rode with Eddie, he never has a problem with picking you up, but he does give you a strange look when you hop in his van as if to say ‘Where’s Harrington?’ Since the two of you always come together, wherever you go, he’s there and vice versa.
With a hammering heart, you let yourself in as you always do and greet Robin with a smile, subtly looking over her shoulder as she speaks, trying to see if he’s already here. Snapping back to the conversation, you follow her to the couch as she rambles off about whatever tape she ‘borrowed’ from Family Video, though it always ends up thrown somewhere in her room, gathering dust.
Settling in the middle of the couch, You watch as Robin takes a seat next to you, telling Eddie to prepare the tape and bring the bowls of snacks over. Finally settling into the familiar energy, you laugh, entertaining Robin’s absurd thoughts and jokes, but soon enough it’s interrupted as the door opens and closes again, Eddie’s still occupying his usual armchair so it can’t by anyone else than him…
Clammy hands drying on your thighs, you look back as his voice comes out, greeting the three of you as he apologises for being late. You know him, and you’d be inclined to say that you do it best, but looking at him right now, you can’t seem to be able to read him anymore. All you can see is those big hands that grabbed and squeezed at you, those walnut strands which you tugged at, pulling the prettiest of sounds from him, and those eyes…oh how you’re lost in them until Robin boops the tip of your nose, flushing in embarrassment as you pretend they didn’t catch you staring with heart eyes at your best friend.
“Okay, come on, let's watch this already.” You huff, as if you’re impatient to see the movie, but in reality, you’re only thinking about the lights being dimmed so the blush on your cheeks won’t be on full display anymore. You’re cursed with having to squeeze into Robin’s two person couch with her and Steve, each of them pressing closely into your sides, Steve’s arm laying over the back of the couch.
The movie isn’t great, not even close to what Robin’s promised it to be. Proof of that is Eddie drooling on himself as he sleeps peacefully in the armchair, and Robin’s head pressing against your shoulder as she rests with soft snores coming out of her. You wonder how you’re still awake yourself, but the heat radiating off Steve’s body is enough to keep you alert for almost an hour.
“Should we turn this off?” He asks as he gazes at the screen with a sort of bored confusion on his face. You nod and watch him as he gets up, using the opportunity to let Robin lay comfortably on the couch as you slip away from the living room and find yourself walking away, moving towards the bathroom but before you can lock yourself there, you hear his voice.
“Can we talk?” His question seems to slip out like he doesn’t want to go through the conversation either, but it’s eating him up, having to keep his distance from you. Telling yourself it’ll be okay, you turn on your heel and nod, heading to Robin’s room as he follows closely.
Once the door is closed, leaving the two of you alone, you dare to lift your gaze, swallowing thickly while he seems to be looking for the right words. “Did I make things awkward between us? You know, like after we uh— made out?”
“No…no, it’s just, It’s fine…really.” You rush to assure him, he doesn’t believe it one bit, your voice wavers as he steps closer and tilts his head with a concerned furrow in his brows. “Are you sure? It doesn’t seem like that, you can barely look at me and you haven’t called to spend the night in like………forever.” He argues, knowing you always have sleepovers, especially now in the summer.
“Steve, it’s been four days…” You smile lightly as you correct him, seemingly overestimating for how long you’ve been apart, though for him it surely feels like a drawn out eternity meant to make him suffer in your absence. “Exactly!” He huffs as if you can’t seem to understand just how much he’s missed you.
He’s got you, it’s a curse that he knows you this well. Maybe you can’t lie your way out of this, not when he’s watching you like a hawk, trying to find the source of the problem as always. He hates to see you upset, even more so when he knows it might be his fault.
“C’mon, when did you stop telling me what’s bothering you?” The way his tone seems to be a bit hurt makes you look at him, now he’s much closer, his hand reaching for yours as he tugs you gently towards him. You’re not sure you can say anything that will justify your actions, so you don’t. Gazing down at the way his hand swallows yours up completely, your chest swarms with butterflies as he toys with your fingers gently. Want takes over your mind, clouding your judgement as you gaze up at him, opening your mouth to speak.
Knowing no words will ever compare to what you want to do, you push yourself up on your tiptoes and grab hold of his shoulder, leaning in to connect your lips again just like you did three nights ago. Despite the sudden movement, he doesn’t seem to be too shocked, quick with returning the kiss as his hands settle instinctively on your waist to make sure you stay close.
Giving his shoulder a squeeze, you cup the side of his face with your free hand and lean more into him. Letting him walk you back until you bump into the wall, you sigh into the kiss and pull his head down to reach him better. A fuzzy feeling takes over your brain as you let yourself enjoy the moment, feeling Steve’s wandering hands advance, you cling to him for support and arch, saying his name in a soft whisper.
Letting your hands slide up under his shirt, fingers tracing soft skin, gripping at his strong back as Steve occupies himself with pawing at your thighs and waist.
Your bodies pressing and tangling warmly, finally feeling the freedom to touch him like you’ve always known you wanted deep in your heart, humming softly as he lets a relaxed sigh slip from his lips. Minutes pass before a sudden thump, followed by a grumpy Robin cursing, travels through her small apartment.
You break apart with a groan and bite your lip, gazing at him as he seems to resent the interruption too. “We should get back out there before they realise we’re missing.” He knows you’re right, but the way you look like you hate the idea, carrying that soft pout on your lips which has his heart melting makes him dip his head to catch your lips in another kiss, this time softer. “Mhm, in a minute.”
And how can you turn him down when he’s so adamant about kissing you?
#steve harrington#stranger things#joe keery#steve harrington fanfic#fem reader#steve x reader#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#stranger things season four#stranger things fic
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@zepskies
Oh goodness I am so excited to finally being able to read part two!
Alright it is devastating right off the bat and I know, I know I should be worried about her and I am. I am SO worried, but my mind completely went somewhere else when Dean PICKED HER UP. The man is so strong and I am just...
“I hope you’ve learned your damn lesson,” he says. Your gaze snaps up to his. “Excuse me?” Dean’s hands go to his hips as his brows raise at you. “Next time, when I tell you to hang back, I mean that shit. Hang the hell back,” he all but growls.
I was prepared for this coming but dang... "I hope you've learned your damn lesson" is a line that breaks my heart more than I should. It cuts to the quick for me, because to me it's worse than just saying "I told you not to do something." It's not heartless, but it's enough of a rendition of it that it just makes you go "oh wow."
And oh my word the two lines from Dean when she got mad KILLED ME. The:
"What's this, some kind of Latina temper?" he asks snidely.
AND
"Oh, I'm sorry, does this telenovela-style tongue lashing come with subtitles?" he snarks.
I was literally screaming. It's like he wants her to kill him. I know that Dean loves her so much but oh my goodness it's about to get so real for him. Man is about to be torn to shreds.
You wear it over some long pajama pants instead of your usual shorts, or better yet, nothing at all. But he can see what kind of mood you’re in. Things are unsettled as you both get ready for bed in silence. He notes the way you turn to face the other side in bed, maybe to avoid him. Though if you really wanted to do that, you could’ve gone to your old room. So in more ways than one, Dean takes some solace in the fact that you’re still next to him. And he decides to give you some time and space. He goes to bed and tries in vain to sleep.
Oh sweetie pie, Dean you're an idiot, but we love our little idiot even when he loses his temper because he cares so much. This part really got to me, because at first I was like "oh why would she stay with him in his room," but I get it. Even though she's upset, Dean is still her best friend and the man she loves and even though he's the one that made her feel this way, she still wants to be comforted by his presence. I always think that, this particular thing is so bittersweet to read about in relationships.
Or at least that's how I took this bit 😅.
Side note: I am happy that the reader didn't have to tell the woman about her son. That would have broken me to read that especially after the reader promised that they would find her son in part one.
It startles a shriek of surprise out of you as you whirl around. Dean’s smile hikes up into a grin, but it soon fades when he remembers the way your scream rang through his ears last night. The way his heart dropped into his stomach, and his head swiveled at the sound. And he saw you go down hard. Then the rest of it tumbles through his mind—what he had to do afterwards in order to save you. How he’d did it without really thinking, his panic and determination blocking out almost everything else when he’d grabbed the kid. The monster, he forcibly reminds himself.
Oh my word. I love you friend, but WHY!? Dang it, this pricked at my heart. It's so good, so heart wrenching. I feel so bad for him, but it really just reinforces why he "lost it" with the reader earlier. Goodness the trope of the reader getting yelled at by someone who loves them about putting themselves in danger really is just such a good one for Dean and you do it so well.
His apology is really just pricking at my heart. It's so good, so forthcoming so honest. And the thought that he was "better off alone" is so on brand for him. I know that we've talked about that before, but it really does fit him, and I love how you weave it into this fic.
You realize then what Dean’s really saying. He’s afraid…afraid to lose you. You see it in his furrowed brows, the downturn of his lips, and whatever pain he’s trying to hide in the depths of his eyes. And just like that, the water works start. You can’t quite keep your tears at bay as you hold onto his shirt. He lets out a resigned sigh as he holds you by your arms. “You don’t have to cry for that,” he says, a bit teasing. “Have you met me?” you sniff. But you manage to look up at him with your glassy eyes. “I’m sorry too. God, I’m so sorry, Dean.”
She's crying... I'm crying. It's really just tears all around and such a good moment. Also the him saying "You don't have to cry for that"... YES SHE DOES.
This is just overall a really wonderful vulnerable moment that you've captured that feels real for both the reader and Dean. Especially when she talks about "working with my heart, not my head." I think that if it were me, I would also be "working with my heart." I don't think that I'd be able to take myself emotionally out of the situation that they're in all the time because they're hunters.
The problem is, you didn’t just see your own mother in Rachel. She hadn’t been much older than you. And when you imagine a life beyond hunting, more than anything (no matter how much you shove down the idea), you really do want a family of your own someday.
Hoping for some FORESHADOWING 🙏🏻👀
Also the salsa lesson is just so cute. And the way you took a really emotional moment to a cute salsa dance to a steamy session to a giggly awkward moment is great. The transitions make it seamless.
And the song choices were perfect! When the reader was describing what the song meant I was like, "oh yeah, that's him right there. There's the man officer." lmao 🤣
Often he’s one to leave love bites of varying degrees, wherever he sees fit. But for a moment he stops at the crook of your neck, just pressing a lingering kiss. He lets out a deep breath, and you realize he’s probably thinking about where you were bitten. The wound is gone, but it doesn’t change what’s imprinted in both of your minds. A softer smile grows on your face. You trail your fingers up into his hair, massaging the back of his neck. “I’m okay,” you remind him. Dean hums deep in agreement. You know, however, that he’s still thinking far too much.
I was again so emotional reading this, because oh my word, poor Dean just reliving the moments where the reader almost died.
And also the final scene 👀🌶️ I should have known from the gif at the beginning tbh lol.
ESPECIALLY THIS LINE:
“What, now you’re shy?” he remarks. And he has to laugh. “Come back here.”
I don't know why that wiped me out after everything tbh.
Not to mention that the sex was also giggly towards the end and I really just love that. And the love confessions KNOCKED ME OUT.
I love you, you’d said. I love you and I love you, more than you can believe and understand.
Oh I'm riding a train of emotions, and all of this was so good. Especially Sam walking in on them. I was laughing so hard at Dean's reaction:
“All right, Sammy. Go to your room,” he chides playfully (but he means it). “The adults are havin’ a moment.”
It's all wonderful my friend! And I can't wait to read another fic from this universe! 😊
Devour Me - Part 2
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader
Summary: When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for. (18+)
AN: Here's Part 2! **Read Devour Me: Part 1
Song Inspo: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique. But really it’s “Ven Devórame Otra Ves” by Lalo Rodriguez. (You’ll see why.) 🤭
Word Count: 5,400
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Blood, character death and violence, smutty smut, angst, Dominican slang, and tons of sexy fluff.
☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist
Part 2: "Telenovela Style"
Your resulting scream of agony is as unforgiving as the ground when your knees buckle, hitting the hard cement.
Andy grips you with the strength of a monster.
Then he holds you down as he drinks your blood.
No matter how you struggle and whimper, you can’t push him off, and you’re getting weaker by the second.
Until Andy is ripped away from your neck, and is taken care of the way all vampires must be. He doesn’t even feel the blade coming.
When you’re able to look up, Dean stands above you with thinly veiled fury. He doesn’t have time to consider what he’s just done.
He bends to gather you up into his arms, all the while trying to stamp down the panic clenching his heart. He calls your name, but you can only make weak sounds as your bleary eyes meet his.
“Dean,” you manage. The ragged wound in your neck is bleeding profusely down your chest and shoulder, seeping into your shirt. He takes your hand and clamps it hard against your neck, even though it makes you whimper.
“Gotta stop the bleeding,” he says, apologetic but firm. “Keep pressing.”
In your stupor of pain, you don’t realize that your screech woke the entire nest. Dean has to lock up his worry; he looks up and finds his brother and Cas already fighting a hoard of angry vampires.
Dean carries you over to them and lays you down against the wall with the other humans. He keeps a protective line in front of you, but he decapitates a vampire before she can sink her fangs into Sam next.
The two of them work together, and with Castiel’s smiting power behind them, the angel and the two men are able to clear the rest of the nest.
By the end, only you and two of the women being held captive are still alive. The third girl’s heart just finally gave out. Sam takes the survivors to the nearest hospital.
Meanwhile, Castiel approaches where you sit up against the inside of the barn, barely awake, while Dean kneels with you, holding you to his chest. He meet’s Cas’s blue-eyed request with a nod. So Cas stretches out a hand and touches two fingers to your forehead.
You’re healed in an instant. Dean marvels, like he always does when Cas displays his power. Dean is able to breathe a little easier, the vice grip on his heart easing as he touches your neck.
The tan skin is once again smooth, if still stained with blood. You blink back into wakeful consciousness.
He shifts so he can see your face. “You okay?”
You meet his eyes but can only nod. His jaw is still tight and tense, and you can’t blame him.
You know you’ve messed up. Big time. You nearly got everyone killed, including yourself…and now, you have to tell a mother that her son is dead.
Dean helps you up, holding you by your arms and waist until you’re steady on your feet. You have a hard time meeting his eyes, but when open your mouth to apologize, he beats you to it.
“I hope you’ve learned your damn lesson,” he says.
Your gaze snaps up to his. “Excuse me?”
Dean’s hands go to his hips as his brows raise at you.
“Next time, when I tell you to hang back, I mean that shit. Hang the hell back,” he all but growls.
You tilt your head at him as your irritation begins to spark. Meanwhile, Castiel is the one who backs up as he glances between you and Dean uncertainly.
“I made a mistake, but that doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do,” you shoot back. “I was a hunter long before I met you.”
“Yeah, well, color me surprised that you’ve made it this long,” he snaps.
Your temper flares hotter. “You know, you’re not so goddamn perfect either.”
“Never said I was,” Dean says. “But when my gut tells me something ain’t right, I need you to fucking listen. Otherwise, we get a day like today.”
His words are edged with grit by the end of his little rant, and you don’t appreciate it. Your lips purse in anger.
“I don’t care what that legendary gut tells you,” you sass back. “I’m not a little girl, and you’re not my damn father!”
Dean raises incredulous brows at the way you’re shouting at him. He crosses his arms.
“What’s this, some kind of Latina temper?” he asks snidely.
You truly become incensed at that.
“Oh, you want to take it there?” you ask, as your eyes narrow. “Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”
Dean won’t admit it, but in that moment, he’s a bit intimidated by the quiet threat in your voice. Still, his fuse is lit, and he’s way beyond curbing his internal filter.
“Oh, I’m sorry, does this telenovela-style tongue lashing come with subtitles?” he snarks.
You let out an incredulous breath. Your eyes begin to sting.
“You’re such an asshole!” you shout back. There, understand that?
You turn away from him before your frustrated tears can fall, but you stop short once you notice Castiel dragging out the bodies of the dead…including Andy. Your throat constricts, and you begin to stalk out of the barn.
Dean calls your name in frustration.
“What?” you hiss.
The only thing that makes him hesitate is seeing the state of you when you turn back around. His anger crumbles, and maybe something in him breaks when he sees your tears. They’ve welled up in your eyes, and a few of them carve a path down your cheeks.
You’re still covered in your own blood, and he hates it. He hates it more than anything.
Later, you see the state of yourself when Sam returns with the Impala. In the reflection on the backseat window, you see the blood dried down your neck, staining nearly half of your shirt.
You see the black rings of your mascara and eyeliner around your eyes. You look a mess, and you try to wipe underneath your eyes. It’s a fruitless effort.
After you all finish burning the bodies, Dean starts the long drive home. You insist on stopping to tell Rachel Campbell about her son, but Sam says he already took care of it when he drove into town.
You frown, but you no longer have the energy to be angry. You further withdraw into yourself, and your lower lip trembles as you look out the window. Through the rearview mirror, Dean sees more tears slipping down your face.
What Sam told him (but he won’t tell you), is what one of the survivors said. One of the mated pairs had taken Andy…to “adopt” a son of their own.
That night is quiet and tense in Dean’s room. You have to wash your hair all over again, and scrub the blood and grime from your body until only your skin remains. But you don’t have the energy to do more than braid your wet hair afterwards and pull on your lucky Journey shirt, which is still full of holes.
Dean knows that it’s bad when you need the “dreamcatcher,” as he’s called it in his head. You’ve never had a nightmare while wearing that shirt, or so you claimed a while back.
You wear it over some long pajama pants instead of your usual shorts, or better yet, nothing at all. But he can see what kind of mood you’re in. Things are unsettled as you both get ready for bed in silence.
He notes the way you turn to face the other side in bed, maybe to avoid him. Though if you really wanted to do that, you could’ve gone to your old room.
So in more ways than one, Dean takes some solace in the fact that you’re still next to him. And he decides to give you some time and space.
He goes to bed and tries in vain to sleep.
In the morning, Dean’s woken by the familiar smell of coffee…and the less familiar sound of loud salsa music.
What the fuck?
After he brushes his teeth, he puts on his robe and slippers and heads down to the kitchen, where he finds you in a seemingly better mood. You’re mopping the floor, of all things. You’re out of your pajamas, instead wearing a loose shirt that falls off your shoulder and some spandex shorts.
“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo,” you sing softly along with the music as you dance from the kitchen to the living room. Your phone is connected to a Bluetooth speaker on the coffee table.
Dean starts to smile, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway to watch you.
At an instrumental break with a run of conga drums and trumpets, you pause in your mopping to do a little twirl as you dance, with a soulful roll of hips and a flair of salsa steps. It makes Dean’s smile kick up into a smirk.
He walks in on purposefully light feet until he’s sidled up behind you in the living room.
“Nice moves, Shakira,” he quips.
It startles a shriek of surprise out of you as you whirl around. Dean’s smile hikes up into a grin, but it soon fades when he remembers the way your scream rang through his ears last night. The way his heart dropped into his stomach, and his head swiveled at the sound. And he saw you go down hard.
Then the rest of it tumbles through his mind—what he had to do afterwards in order to save you. How he’d did it without really thinking, his panic and determination blocking out almost everything else when he’d grabbed the kid. The monster, he forcibly reminds himself.
“You trying to give me a heart attack?” you ask with a hand on your heart.
Dean forces himself to smile a little. “Sorry. But might I remind you, not everyone here’s an early bird.”
You give him a wry look.
“You’re the only one around here who sleeps past 10 a.m. Cas dipped out a while ago, and Sam’s on a run.”
But you graciously grab your phone to lower the music to a more bearable level. Dean doesn’t yet know this about you, but this—listening to music, dancing, cleaning—it’s all your way of coping…and releasing as much of your pain, terror, and regret from yesterday as possible.
You then look up at him more guarded. The two of you exchanged a lot of unsavory words last night. In fact, it may just be the worst fight you two have ever had in almost three years of knowing one another.
Dean senses the shift in you, and his amusement fades. He just can't let things stay like this. He won't.
He hazards drawing closer and touching your arm.
“Look…I’m sorry for snapping at you yesterday. I know I was being a dick,” he says. “You’ve just gotta understand something.”
You wait for him to continue with furrowed brows, sensing that whatever he’s about to say is hard for him.
“There’s a reason I don’t do this. The uh, relationship thing,” Dean continues, clearing his throat. His thumb swipes along your arm. “It’s not just this job. It’s my fucked up life. I tried to warn you before—”
“Dean,” you say with a sigh, but he raises his hand.
“Please, just…let me say it,” he says. “You know the spiel. But things can change on a dime. Even on a damn milk run, like a dusty nest of vamps.”
You know that. You know you could’ve died yesterday, and he doesn’t need to remind you of that fact. Before you can start to get petulant again though, Dean continues. His jaw is working, like this next part is more difficult for him to admit.
“Trust me when I say, us being together is dangerous, for both of us,” he says. “For a while I, uh…I started to think Sam and I were better off alone.”
That casts you into dismay. Because you know Dean isn’t lying. He’s really contemplated spending the rest of his life devoid of love, so he won’t have to lose it.
Dangerous, for both of us.
You realize then what Dean’s really saying. He’s afraid…afraid to lose you. You see it in his furrowed brows, the downturn of his lips, and whatever pain he’s trying to hide in the depths of his eyes.
And just like that, the water works start. You can’t quite keep your tears at bay as you hold onto his shirt. He lets out a resigned sigh as he holds you by your arms.
“You don’t have to cry for that,” he says, a bit teasing.
“Have you met me?” you sniff. But you manage to look up at him with your glassy eyes. “I’m sorry too. God, I’m so sorry, Dean.”
Your fist clenches in his shirt when you remember Andy, latched onto your neck, and how Dean had to save you. You know he’s remembering it too when his brows furrow, and his gaze falls away. You reach a hand for his cheek.
“I know I fucked up,” you admit. “I was working with my heart, not my head. I just…”
You wanted so badly to help that kid and his mother. You also know that Dean understands; you see it in his eyes. He holds your hand to his cheek and brushes his thumb across the back of your hand.
“I know,” he says. “I really am sorry, baby.”
The problem is, you didn’t just see your own mother in Rachel. She hadn’t been much older than you. And when you imagine a life beyond hunting, more than anything (no matter how much you shove down the idea), you really do want a family of your own someday.
It’s just…days like yesterday remind you why that could be a very bad idea.
More of your tears bubble over, and you head willingly into Dean’s arms. “Me too…”
He holds you tighter than ever. His hands rub down your back, tangle in your hair, and he drops his lips onto your hair. You sniffle, wiping your face dry in his shirt. And for a while, the two of you have peace in the relative quiet.
Music still plays from the speaker though. And when another salsa song starts to play on your playlist, you start swaying. A smile works its way onto Dean’s face.
“You can’t help yourself, can you?” he teases.
You smile into his chest. “We should go dancing sometime.”
Dean just laughs. “Oooh, no.”
“Oh, yes,” you reply, batting your lashes up at him. You slip a hand on his shoulder and into one of his hands. He’s forced to hold you as if the two of you were about to start Fred Astair-ing across the living room.
“Have you ever danced before?” you ask. “Like real dancing.”
“Not salsa, I’ll tell you that,” he quips.
“That’s okay. I’ll teach you,” you reply with a coquettish smile. “It’s just a few simple moves.”
Dean gives you a wan look. “You made it look anything but simple.”
You blush at that, but you meet him with a pout of disappointment. You don’t let up, even when Dean frowns. He huffs at you in resistance.
“No,” he insists. You just brush a gentle thumb along his neck, biting your lip in askance.
But the longer he stares at your beautiful, hopeful eyes, the more cracks form in his resolve.
Eventually, Dean breaks with a sigh, and a shake of his head.
“You’re too much, you know that?” he mutters.
It’s then that you know you’ve won.
So with a happy squeal of excitement, you clap your hands and move to stand next to him so you can show him the basic steps of salsa dancing.
You make him take off his robe and slippers, leaving in his shirt and plaid pajama pants. Then you instruct him for a few minutes, correcting his footing and getting him to move on a beat. You’re pleasantly surprised that he has some rhythm.
Dean sighs once again. How the hell did we get here? Heat crawls up the back of his neck as embarrassment starts to set in.
“This is fucking ridiculous,” he grumbles.
“You’re doing good,” you encourage, with a growing smile. “Now come on, feel the beat in threes. One, two, three. One, two, three…”
Once he sort of has the basic steps and turns down, you move to stand in front of him. There you show him how to hold you, how he’ll move forward, and you’ll move back. It takes a little while, but you slowly move through the combinations, then do a little twirl underneath his hand.
When he pulls you back in without faltering, you give him a beaming smile. “Very good!”
A subtle grin raises his lips at your enthusiasm. He also feels his face heating up at the praise.
But you pause when a certain song filters through the speakers. It’s an old one (and it never fails to make you blush), but you love it.
“Ooh, yes,” you exclaim with delight, and you turn up the volume.
“What’s this one?” Dean asks.
“Ven Devórame Otra Ves,” you inform him. Not that he knows what that means. You sing along a bit with the first couple of verses while you encourage Dean to lead you in the dance.
This song is just slow enough for him to attempt it, and the funny thing is, he doesn’t feel all that uncomfortable with the steps now. He’s starting to get a feel for how to move, both with his feet, and with his hands as he guides you by your waist, holding your hand close to his chest. Still, Dean’s also curious about the lyrics you’re singing.
“What does it mean?” he asks.
You huff in amusement. “You sure you want to know?”
Dean raises a brow. “Well, now I gotta know.”
You giggle at that, though you correct his steps when he leads with the wrong foot.
“Okay. It’s about a guy who’s pretty much a player,” you say with a smirk. “His bed has been a revolving door of hot ass, but he keeps thinking about this one woman who used to have him turned inside out…”
Dean’s lips curve at the familiar image you’re conjuring. He manages to turn you under his hand, then pull you back to him in one smooth motion. He looks down at you with a deeper gleam in his eyes. You bite your lip, soothing your hand from his shoulder and down his arm.
As the song’s verses come, you translate for him. And for Dean, your voice in itself is a spell.
“Even in my dreams, he says, I thought I had you devouring me. And I dampened my white sheets remembering you,” you begin. Your words are smooth like black velvet. “In my bed, no one is like you, who draws my body on every corner, without a piece of skin left over.”
Dean is getting hot under the collar as you push away, dragging your fingertips along his back as you turn around him. When you come back into his line of vision, his attention is attracted to the sway of your hips, clad just in those little spandex shorts. He has to clear his throat a bit.
You eventually return to him with a warm hand against his chest.
“Ven, devórame otra ves. It means, come devour me again,” you continue, looking up at him from under your lashes, “Come punish me more with your desire. Because I kept my love for you…because my mouth has the taste of your body.”
You smile at the laser focus of his green-eyed gaze. “Come devour me again.”
You push off with another little spin. When you reach for his hand, Dean yanks you back into him, eliciting a gasp. The move disorients you for a moment, but you giggle and hold onto his arms. Your hands glide up to rest on his shoulders.
He’s holding you flush against him, and as you shift a thigh between his legs, you unintentionally graze against his hardening length. You look up at him with a smirk.
“You’re a little…stiff,” you say, both flirtatious and teasing. “Let’s loosen you up.”
You shake his shoulders out and try to get him to relax. Dean raises a wry brow, because you know damn well whose fault it is that his body is coiled tight. But you place his hands on your hips as you move back into the dance.
“Feel what I’m doing there?” you ask. He looks down on you with growing heat.
“If I could do that, we wouldn’t be together,” he rumbles.
You try to stifle a laugh as he pulls you in close again, just swaying for a bit. Soon enough, you grin knowingly when his hands start to slide lower on your ass. His head bows to yours, ready to meet you with a kiss.
You stop him with your finger on his lips.
“Question: do you consider yourself more of a tits or ass man?” you ask him. You’re half teasing, but still curious. Dean snorts at the question.
“More of a connoisseur,” he replies, smirking.
“Ah.” You nod sagely, and you point between him and yourself. “So this is like a ‘sample the menu’ situation.”
Dean’s smirk deepens. “Sweetheart, you’re a goddamn buffet.”
You splutter laughing…and that’s when he finally pounces. He claims your lips with greedy passion. His hand winds into your hair, gripping tight and ruining what’s left of your loose ponytail. The strands coil around his hand in messy curls while he also gets a healthy grip of your ass through your thin shorts.
You smile into his lips, even as you acquiesce to him guiding your head to the side, so he can slip his tongue against yours. You grip his arms more for stability while he manhandles you, kneading soft flesh and making pleasant tingles run up your spine.
After a little while, his mouth burns a hot path away from yours. He noses down your neck, skimming his lips across your skin. It sets your nerve endings on fire and gets you breathing more shallowly in his ear. You cling to the back of his shirt, holding him close.
Often he’s one to leave love bites of varying degrees, wherever he sees fit. But for a moment he stops at the crook of your neck, just pressing a lingering kiss.
He lets out a deep breath, and you realize he’s probably thinking about where you were bitten. The wound is gone, but it doesn’t change what’s imprinted in both of your minds.
A softer smile grows on your face. You trail your fingers up into his hair, massaging the back of his neck.
“I’m okay,” you remind him. Dean hums deep in agreement. You know, however, that he’s still thinking far too much.
So you slide your hands down, slow between the dips and planes of muscle in his back, and rest at his hips. Your thumbs delve under the hem of his shirt and tease the skin there.
And you start slow, pressing wet, nipping kisses of your own to his neck while you inch his shirt up. You feel his smile on your neck. His grip on your hip flares to life. Still, he lets you tug his shirt up and over his head. Your loose shirt comes next, revealing the same black satin and lace bra you wore the first time he ever got you topless in his arms.
A fan favorite. Dean grins. He reaches around to go for the clasp, but your firm push on his chest takes him by surprise.
He falls back onto the couch with a grunt, looking up at you then with raised brows. You’ve got a mischievous little smirk on your face that heats his blood and makes his cock twitch.
You take out the rest of your falling ponytail, shaking your hair out wild. Then you let your hands drift down your neck, over your clothed breasts, and finally to your little shorts.
Dean rubs his palms down his thighs and watches. A smirk forms across his lips as you slide the fabric down the curve of your hips. It leaves you in a red thong, familiar to him by the little tear it has on the front. (Again, his fault.)
You climb aboard his strong thighs to straddle his lap, using his shoulders as leverage as you sink down. You make sure to rub yourself teasingly against his clothed erection. He groans in appreciation. His hands fly to your soft, thick thighs and squeeze.
“Aw, I like this,” Dean says, half on another moan as you grind down a bit harder on him.
“Yeah?” you tease. You take his face in your hands and capture his lips with your own. Your tongue invades his mouth, and he welcomes you with a deep hum. It’s slow and hot at first, but Dean feels the loss of you when you break from his lips.
Instead, you treat him with the same trail of kisses he gave you, along the curve of his jaw and down his neck. But you don’t stop there.
Your hands move over his chest with purpose, tweaking over each hard nipple while your mouth burns a wet line down and down his sternum. Dean groans at your ministrations, but lets you leave his lap to slide down to the ground, between his thighs.
“What’re you up to, baby?” he asks, despite having a very good idea of it. He catches the playful, yet determined gleam in your eye.
You pause, briefly leaning back up to give him a heated kiss. You part from him with a grin.
“Isn’t it obvious?” you ask. “I’m gonna devour you.”
Dean stares hard at you as goosebumps break out across his forearms.
Oh, fuck yeah.
A giggle bubbles in your throat at the expression on his face. But you continue, taking his pants down his legs first, before his boxer briefs.
Dean’s body tenses in anticipation. You’ve gone down on him before, but somehow it’s different this time. He feels like every single one of his nerve endings stands at attention along with his dick. And you’re taking your sweet time working him up.
Even when his cock is finally free, you sooth your hands down his legs first, maybe teasing him a bit as you drag your nails down his inner thighs. Dean makes a strained sound, though he tries to hide it by clearing his throat.
Your gaze flicks up to his with a little smile. He’s holding the back of the couch; his fingers are digging into the old cushion in effort to keep still for you. But his eyes stare into yours like a man starving. You know what you’re in for after you have your way with him, but for now, he’s quite literally under your control.
So you take him in your hands first. Dean groans as you tease him with light touches, soft movements, your thumb slowly circling over the sensitive, weeping head of his cock. It's torturous enough to make him drop his head back against the couch, closing his eyes tight.
And suddenly, he blinks them open again.
“Shit,” he utters, when you finally take him into your mouth. Your tongue is soft and wet, your lips move over him steadily, and your hands caress whatever your mouth can’t take, even teasing his balls.
You work him over relentlessly, until he can’t help but spill everything he has to give into your waiting mouth. When you suck off and swallow whatever remains, Dean’s heart stutters like syncopated conga drums.
He shudders and struggles for breath afterwards, watching your every movement—from wiping your mouth to shooting him that satisfied little smirk.
You press one last kiss to the inside of his thigh before you raise from where you’ve been kneeling on the hard ground.
Dean manages to lean forward and helps you up by your elbows. But then he pulls you back into his lap and kisses you deeply. He doesn’t let up until you’re panting with him.
“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he manages to say. His voice is deep and laced with grit.
He’s still panting heavily. You giggle and press your warming face into his neck.
“What, now you’re shy?” he remarks. And he has to laugh. “Come back here.”
He brings your face back to him with a hand on your cheek. For a second, he just looks at you. His thumb strokes across your full, thoroughly kissed bottom lip.
“Say it,” you encourage softly. “Whatever you’re thinking. Right now.”
A smile tugs at his lips. He can’t help but oblige you.
“You’re too damn much,” he says again, both gruff and fond. Despite how you drive him up the fucking wall sometimes, he doesn't think it'll ever be enough for him, what he has with you.
Because this is something he'd almost given up on. Didn't think he'd get to have it. And it almost scares him, how much he wants you. How much he...
“I love you,” he says. His thumb traces along the familiar curve of your cheek.
It hasn’t been all that long, but he knows. You weaseled your way in without even trying. The least he can do for you is be honest.
Your fingers curl around his wrist, holding his hand in place. You tilt your head at him.
“Oh, yeah?” you ask.
Dean hesitates, but he nods. “Yeah.”
A smile grows across your face. “Eh, I’m still on the fence.”
At his flat look, you laugh and lean in for a kiss. He allows it, a little petulantly. But you make up for it with sweet affection. Your gentle hands stroke down the column of his neck, down his chest. You then lean back so he can see your face.
“Yo te amo,” you whisper. “Te amo y te quiero, más que tú puedes creer y entender.”
Dean smiles. He doesn’t understand all of it, but he gets the important bits. He hears it in the tone of your voice. He sees it in your eyes. They shine with emotion, but mainly with love.
Dean kisses your hand. He lets go, just so he can slip his hands around you to finally unhook your bra. He tosses it across the room without bothering to see where it lands.
You do though, and you meet him with a slightly narrowed gaze.
“Are you making a mess of my clean bunker?” you tease.
His lips curve as he kisses you again, while his hands each get a generous handful of your breasts.
“Ah, hello, ladies." He grins. "Miss me?”
You can’t help but laugh. He’s such a dork sometimes.
But you hum when his thumbs brush over hardened nipples, then drag deliberate circles over them, and pinch just hard enough to make you whimper in pleasure. The sensation zips through you, enhancing the flood between your legs.
“I fucking love that sound,” Dean mutters, and licks a hot path in the valley between your breasts. His lips move against your dewy skin when he says, “Do that for me again.”
When he takes a nipple in his mouth and nips a bit hard, you have to oblige him. Your voice rising high is music to his ears.
So he goes for your panties next. You help him get them off and return to his lap. With a breathy moan, you revel at the feeling of his fingers probing into your wet heat.
However, you and Dean have been too engrossed in one another to notice the door of the bunker unlocking, and heavy steps down the spiral staircase.
It’s Sam who’s back from his run. Unfortunately, he soon has to shield his eyes upon reaching the living room.
“Damn it, Dean!”
You yelp in surprise, but Dean laughs and holds you close to shield you from view. As a bonus, it presses your breasts against his chest.
“All right, Sammy. Go to your room,” he chides playfully (but he means it). “The adults are havin’ a moment.”
Sam scoffs. “You’re having a moment on the goddamn couch!”
“Sorry,” you say, though it’s muffled in Dean’s neck. Your face is red hot with embarrassment.
Sam rolls his eyes heavenward and tries not to see anything else on his way to his room.
But Dean’s chuckle reverberates through your chest as his hand goes to your cheek. He encourages you to pull back, so he can see your face again.
When he does, he smirks at the scarlet blush dusting your cheeks and neck. You bite your lower lip, but despite your embarrassment, you’re happy.
Your own words replay in your mind when you lean in for another kiss.
I love you, you’d said. I love you and I love you, more than you can believe and understand.
AN: Yay! I hope you enjoyed Part 2 of the “Midnight Espresso”-verse! I loved writing this one so much. I know we're just doing fanfic here, but I genuinely put my heart and soul into this one. ❤️
Also, here are a couple of Spanish translations:
(Note: other Spanish-speaking countries may interpret certain words differently.)
[During their fight]:
“Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”
Translation:
“You’re shameless. Keep messing with me, damn it. Then you’re going to see who I am (<- This is Dominican slang. It essentially means fuck around and find out what I'm made of.).”
[Song lyrics: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique]:
“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo.”
Translation:
“I don’t know tomorrow. I don’t know tomorrow. If we’ll be together, if the world will end.”
Keep Reading:
Next in this series is "Chico Malo" ("Bad Boy"):
Summary: You catch Dean red-handed—with one of his favorite episodes of Casa Erotica.
▶️ Next Story: Bad Boy (Chico Malo)
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SKZ Pack Chapter 1
Trigger Warnings: None
Weeks had gone by and it was nearly December. The wolves had changed in who they were. Jeongin became a tougher alpha and spent many weeks training to his full potential, but he also learned to be a better mate to Y/N. He was still making it up to her. Seungmin was still as cocky as ever and spent more time researching the dark side of werewolf lore in case they ended up in a tragic situation again. Felix was sensitive if not more sensitive after what happened and felt more protective of all the wolves so he offered to take part in more training, unlike Jisung who became glued to the side of Y/N. Jisung was far too in love with Y/N and loved to express that as he helped her around the house. Jisung made sure to always tell her she looked beautiful and made a point to kiss her scar first before her lips. Changbin was now on a course to look after werewolves as his sister Jaehee realised how useless Changbin was at saving his own omega. Changbin wasn't great but he could now stitch a minor cut. Minho on the other hand grew colder, he was hurting the most out of all of them. He still did his usual stuff but stayed out of debates and never gave his opinion. Him and Y/N were still not alright. They never spoke to each other unless it was a 'good morning' or a 'thank you'. Minho lost a lot of trust with Y/N and some of the others, but her words cut deep and he wasn't on the path of forgiveness yet. Hyunjin had gone back to his cold self and spent time in his art room, but still made time for Y/N.Chan had woken up but was bedridden as his ribs were still not healing but he was fine. He was pissed for the first twenty-four hours when he found out about Y/N's mission of death, but he got over it, knowing she was fine. He was happier when she came in to look after him, he appreciated her omegaing him but he knew it was tiring her out because she too was slowly healing.
Then there was Y/N she healed eventually but was still bandaged up. Spiritually she was damaged and Hyunjin's soul was trying to repair hers but it was too exhausting for him so she asked him to stop. Y/N wasn't as active as she had liked to be but still made a point to get up and see her wolves, despite Jisung being stuck to her. Not one of them had asked her about that night and it almost became a taboo subject. It was almost silently forbidden to be discussed. Y/N wanted to bring it up to apologise but when she did they would wave her off and tell her it's fine. Still, she knew Minho and Jeongin were the two she massively owed an apology to, but getting them alone was going to be harder. Minho was going to be her biggest challenge but she was going to start off strong by writing him a letter in case he refused to hear her apology and then giving him the flowers. By flowers, she meant the ones she picked from the garden and put into the vase after she turfed out the others. When Y/N came back into the kitchen she saw Minho prepping dinner. He was aware she walked into the kitchen and usually, he doesn't speak unless she speaks first. Y/N had to admit she felt incredibly nervous speaking to him and it was mainly because she hated hearing what she had done wrong. Y/N knew and understood her actions but hearing them made her slightly uncomfortable and defensive. "Minho?" Y/N called as she stood there awkwardly watching him. "Hmm?" Minho acknowledged her but did not look at her so Y/N decided he was comfortable with whatever she was going to say. "I wanted to say I'm sorry okay? Just hear me out and don't say anything. I only want you to listen." Y/N waited for him but he said nothing, making her roll her eyes. "I am sorry for not being grateful for your efforts. I know you worked hard to help and you did more than what I realised and I appreciate that. I guess I wanted to help and, anyway that's not the point. Forget that part. The main thing I wanted to apologise was for using your insecurity against you. I know it was low and I didn't mean it. I'm not good at apologies so I picked some flowers and wrote a letter of apology which I want you to read."
Y/N almost cursed herself at her botched apology. She completely messed it up but there was nothing she could do now except leave the letter on the table and leave him alone, which she did. Y/N left the kitchen and was about to head up to see Chan when Changbin entered the room in his medical clothes. Y/N greeted the beta with a gentle hug which Changbin was grateful for. Y/N knew Changbin wasn't really enjoying the hospital work and studying with his sister, he would rather be at the gym and then play his x-box. Changbin threw his bag down and kicked on his shoes while holding Y/N as he nuzzled her face against his, before pecking her lips. "Shall we go nurse Channie?" Y/N giggled as she kissed him again. "Let me unwind baby and then I'll come right up," Changbin whispered. Y/N nodded and headed up to see Chan who was idly staring up at the ceiling. It made Y/N laugh at how bored he looked. He was completely fed up with being stuck in the bedroom but his right leg was struggling to heal. "Felix said he might take my stitches out soon," Y/N said as she walked over to him and sat on his bed. Chan smiled up at her as he reached for her hand to hold. He loved it when she came to visit him. Admittedly, Chan sometimes got lonely since he was cooped up in the same four walls. "I want to tell you something and I don't want you to take it the wrong way baby. You know I love you." Chan said softly. "Oh no. Uh. Uh. Whatever it is Mr alpha I ain't doing it." Y/N answered as she bopped his nose like a child. "I'm being serious, baby," Chan said causing Y/N to frown. Why was he being so serious? "I know you are feeling incredibly anxious because you are feeling unclaimed and I know I haven't claimed you fully because I wanted to wait until you could trust me and your body was fully healed, but I know at the moment I'm not going to be in any position to do a while and I don't want you to feel unstable in my pack. We all love you, despite the conflicts we do. Which is why I had a chat with Jeongin and I want him to claim you." Chan stated. "No. Jeongin is fuming with me and besides I am completely fine. I'm not feeling anxious, or disconnected in any way. I want to wait. I want you, besides you could lay there." Y/N hinted with a smirk as she pulled his duvet cover down. Chan rolled his eyes nonchalantly. "Baby. Jeongin is over it, if anything it's Minho that's going to take a while. He accepts what you have said but he doesn't forgive easily. Besides Jeongin wants to ease your anxiety." Chan cooed. "I want you Channie to be the first. I don't care how long we have to wait for your leg to get better. Besides Seungmin can keep up." Y/N stated. "My love. What did I do to deserve you." Chan cooed, his heart swelling with pride. As much as he wanted to be the first his mark was already there and she needed to feel settled. "Ya, let's play doctors and nurses," Changbin shouted as he kicked the door open. "Fuck sake," Chan muttered.
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