#i'm allowed to be soft for him ok
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littlealexhorne Ā· 2 years ago
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This has been Guy Williams, with New Zealand Today
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s0dium Ā· 5 months ago
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Stalker
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A/n: I hope you enjoy
Warning: Stalker!Gojo, dub con, fingering, pussy drunk Gojo, unprotected sex, peeping tom, male masturbation, breeding
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As the strongest sorcerer alive, Gojo Satoru knows he should be the epitome of justice, the defender of what's right. So out of all people Gojo Satoru should know that what he is doing is wrong. Very wrong.
Yet despite this he cant help but be drawn to you, linger around you, stalk you. He finds himself drawn to the places you frequent, learning the rhythm of your life, memorizing the small details that make you, you. The coffee shop where you start your morning, the park bench where you read during your lunch break, the dimly lit street you walk down on your way home. In his mind, a narrative buildsā€”a story where he is a part of your world, where his presence matters to you as much as yours has inexplicably come to matter to him.
For a time, Gojo convinces himself that he can be satisfied merely as a shadow in your life, lingering on the periphery, unseen yet ever-present. But as each day passes, witnessing your coworker's blatant glances towards you, Jesus, the short skimpy clothes you wear, the delicate balance begins to fracture. The urge to step out from the shadows and into the light is starting to grow to hard to resist.
The tension reaches its crescendo one evening as he watches from your windowā€”a routine that has become his dark solace. You're preparing for bed, the familiar motions shadowed in the dim light. As you slip under the covers, a sudden sound pierces the silence: moans, soft and whining, drift through the air.
Are you, touching yourself?
Gojo freezes, his heart stuck in his throat. He doesnt know what to do. The sound of your moans cuts through the stillness, sending his heart into a frantic rhythm and hout blood coursing to his dick.
"Fuck." He groans, feeling his member strain against his black pants. His resolve is slowly snapping by the second. With a mixture of urgency and caution, he silently eases the window open and slips into the room.
Shit shit shit.
He approaches your bed, his breath is held tight in his chest as he takes in the sight before him. Your face is contorted in pleasure, lips slightly parted, a soft pant escaping themā€”each detail more intoxicating than the last. Under the covers your hand shifts, fingers moving back and forth. His heart hammers against his ribs, disbelief mingling with raw emotion as he realizes you're completely absorbed in your own world, unaware of his presence.
It's not until he looms over you that you finally sense another presence, snapping your eyes open to gasp, "Who are you?"
"Shhh baby I'm not here to hurt you I promise," Gojo whispers, a gentle yet firm assurance in his tone, "I'm here to help you okay? You can call me Satoru."
Confusion flickers across your face as you stammer, "What I don'tā€”" Your instinct is to retreat, but he gently pins you down, his hands firm yet careful.
"It's okay, it's okay, baby," he soothes, his tone meant to calm and reassure you in the soft darkness.
Unsure why, you find yourself yielding to the comforting timbre of his voice, allowing him to press tender, feathery kisses along your chin.
"I'm gonna make you feel better better ok?" He hums and you're too engrossed in the feeling of his kisses on your skin that you barely notice he is pulling your underwear down your legs.
"Wait, i don't, this is-" you stutter but your words melt away as soon as you feel his warm touch on your stomach. Shit, you know you should resist, you know how wrong this isā€”a stranger in your room, touching you in such an intimate manner. Yet, there he is, devastatingly handsome under the shadowy caress of the night, his piercing blue eyes locking with yours, filled with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. His voice, smooth and soothing, weaves through the thick air, and despite the alarm bells ringing in your mind, you're desperate for the relief he seems to offer.
You sharply gasp when you feel him slide a long finger between the lips of your cunt, collecting your juices before bringing them up to your sensitive clit.
"Already so wet aren't you."
Without a warning, Gojo slips a finger into your gummy walls and curls toward your belly button.
"M'Satoru!" You gasp. The foreign intrusion knocks the wind out of you and your hips instinctively buck into the air, your toe-curling from the sudden pleasure. You dont know it but Gojo is struggling to maintain his composure as well. The reality of your whines, the softness of your insides, surpasses even the wildest of his fantasies.
"This is bad baby, really bad, I don't think I can just touch you here." Gojo chokes out with a groan.
You dumbly nod, too lost in the pleasure to notice the unbuckling of Gojoā€™s pants. The pressure of his fat tip against your quivering hole is exhilarating and you canā€™t help but hold your breath as he finally pushes in. You let out a loud moan when you feel his tip smush against your cervix once he gets down to the last inch.
"Ah-Ah ah oh god," Gojo groans. He mentally curses himself that he could ever think his hand could replace the feeling of your cunt. "You feel good baby? Because I feel so good, you feel so good." Gojo is babbling now as he thrusts in and out of you.
You had no strength to answer him, only offering wanton moans in retort as he continued to wreck your body with his completely brutal thrusts. The pain of him hitting the tip of your cervix nearly every time mixed his messy kisses on your mouth made your brain grow light and fuzzy.
Gojo thinks that if there is a heaven, this is surely it. All those times watching you, following you home, fantasizing about this exact momentā€”none of it prepared him for the overwhelming reality of being inside you, of fucking you. He can practically feel your heartbeat sync with his, the sheer intensity of this connection he had desired since he laid eyes on you made him realize something he never did before; he needs you all to himself. forever.
Gojo uses you like his personal cock sleeve, shapes your insides and bruises your cervix until your entire body jolts with sensitivity; ripping orgasm after orgasm from you. His balls slap against your ass with every drop and he retracts his hips until the tip pokes out to admire the sheen dripping to his base before fitting himself back into your snug walls and spilling ropes upon ropes of cum into your womb
Your body trembled from the overwhelming hotness and he smoothed a hand over your bloating stomach.
ā€œShhh, take it. Take it all,ā€ he crooned.
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ssahotchnerr Ā· 9 months ago
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šŸ‘‰šŸ¼šŸ‘ˆšŸ¼ is it ok to request a fic where jack starts trying to take care of the reader the way he sees his dad does? like maybe hotch is away from a case and reader gets sick or sad or idk, so jack takes it upon himself to be there for reader? like maybe he even starts referring reader with the same pet name hotch calls her? tysm!
like dad does
aw šŸ„¹ cw; fem!reader, established relationship, mentions of sickness, fluff <3
you awoke with a gentle start; a trail of cold water trickling down the side of your face, pooling vaguely in your ear.
likewise, a more concrete sensation was set on your forehead - a cold compress. most likely a washcloth, and one that hadn't been wrung out too much at that.
but it was relieving, a delightful contrast from your burning forehead.
"oops," a small mumble came directly from your left ear, as well as a soft exhale of a breath. "sorry."
"jack?" you muttered, rather drowsily. you forced your eyes open, finding jack's sweet, concerned face beside you. "what're you doing?"
"i'm taking care of you." he explained softly, his tone so nonchalant as if it were the most obvious and simplest thing in the world. he reached forward, adjusting the top of the blanket that was draped overtop you. "like dad does. he put the washcloth on you yesterday, you 'member?"
he was right; you were on day two, maybe three? of a nasty bout of the flu. quite honestly you didn't know what day it was, they all blurred together, and your scattered sleep schedule didn't help. you offered him a nod.
"thank you." you gave him a small, closed mouth smile. if it weren't for the germs, you'd reach out to touch his cheek. you sat up a bit from your position in bed, your voice hoarse. "where is your dad?"
"a meeting."
your eyebrows furrowed, the facial movement burning your sinuses. "he's home?"
jack nodded, "he's in his office, but he said it might take a long time. so that's why i'm helping you feel better."
his face brightened a bit, as if a realization struck him. he reached into his pant's pocket, retrieving a few cough drops he had shoved in there, dropping them onto your blanket covered chest.
"i'm sorry i can't make you soup." jack apologized, solemnly as his shoulders dropped. "but i'm not allowed to use the stove."
your face softened, the weak smile resurfacing. "that's okay bud, don't worry. you can help dad make some later when he's done, how 'bout that?"
he nodded enthusiastically, before hoisting himself onto your bed.
"hey no no no, i wouldn't," you protested gently, your heart also melting at his action. "i don't want you getting my germs."
"if i get sick i get sick." that's the same thing aaron had said, multiple times, when he insisted on getting into bed with you earlier. jack scooted somewhat close, staying mainly on his father's side of the bed.
"and if i get sick, i don't need to go to school."
you laughed softly, but finding yourself too weak to argue, you did the only thing you could - go right back to sleep.
it was restless; you were in and out of slumber, and could roughly process jack getting up here and there - solely due to the distant sensation of the washcloth leaving and returning to your forehead, dampened once more.
and once aaron's meeting had ceased, he went in to check on you, and was pleasantly surprised, and touched, to see jack accompanying you.
you were out, with jack diligently watching over, while also keeping himself busy - his sketchbook and colored pencils were scattered amongst the bed.
"how's it going?" aaron asked him from the doorway, the door producing a sharp creak as he pushed it forward a tad.
"good. i brought cough drops, the washcloth, and made sure she got lots of rest. just like you did." jack continued to draw as he spoke, before his head shot right up. "can we make soup?"
"sure buddy," aaron nodded, a tinge of pride pulling at his heart. he tilted his head towards the hallway, and jack immediately scrambled off the bed. "c'mon."
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goldfades Ā· 2 months ago
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LOVE IS THE ONE THING THAT CANNOT BE TAINTED BY FEAR OR DOUBTā”€ā”€FATHER CHARLIE MAYHEW
part two!!!
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for this request!!
ā”€ summary | you and father charlie share a bond that goes beyond the confines of your church duties, with your public image as a nurturing servant masking the frustration and resentment you harbor privately. when nun megan grows suspicious and begins spying, she uncovers the intimate, vulnerable side of your relationship, catching a moment where emotions boil over into something more forbidden
ā”€ pairing | father charlie mayhew x fem!mother!reader
ā”€ word count | 6k
ā”€ warnings | few kisses, kinda angsty, pretty wholesome though, nun megan being nosy AF, mentions/descriptions of being longing to be a mother + have a family, forbidden love, ends on a cliff hanger (part 2 coming soon, i just couldn't fit everything in one part)
ā”€ ev's notes | my requests are open if you wanna send anything in! (please do btw i'm obsessed w nicholas LMAO). again this turned out very wordy and self-indulgent, my apologies
ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!
ā‡Ø missing out on updates? check out my masterlist!
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The faint scent of incense lingers in the air, the wisps of smoke curling upward toward the stained glass windows, where muted beams of light filter through, casting the nave in shades of gold and crimson. The church is quiet now, save for the soft rustle of robes and the shuffling feet of the last parishioners as they take their leave. You remain rooted to your spot at the front, hands clasped in front of you, your gaze lowered in practiced reverence.
Youā€™ve spent years perfecting this imageā€”a serene, dutiful figure in service to the church. The warmth you offer is genuine, but it's also an armor, a shield from the world beyond the altar. You can feel their eyes on you as they depart, expecting grace, expecting humility, expecting nothing more than what youā€™ve always given them.
But beneath the surface, you can feel the stirrings of something else. The long hours, the endless work, the weight of expectationsā€”it grinds against you, slowly wearing away at the image youā€™ve created. And no one sees it. No one, except him.
Father Charlie stands beside the altar, his back turned to you as he speaks to one of the deacons, his voice low and calming, as it always is. Thereā€™s something about himā€”something steady, something realā€”that draws you to him. Heā€™s the only one who understands the pressures you both face, the only one who sees through the veneer you maintain for the sake of the church.
As the last of the congregation filters out, a wave of relief washes over you. The doors close with a soft echo, leaving the two of you in the lingering quiet of the empty church. You allow yourself to breathe, to let go of the tightness in your chest. Itā€™s only in moments like these, when the others have gone, that you can finally be yourselfā€”unburdened by the expectations of the flock, free from the eyes of those who can never truly understand.
But you sense it, donā€™t you? That something else is watching, something creeping at the edges of this sanctuary, waiting for you to slip.
You feel a prickle of awareness, an instinct, perhaps, that youā€™re not as alone as you think. But you push it aside, telling yourself itā€™s nothingā€”just the remnants of the day clinging to your thoughts. After all, in the safety of the church, what could possibly be wrong?
You step forward, closer to Father Charlie, your voice dropping to a murmur. ā€œThey never stop looking, do they?ā€
He turns toward you, and thereā€™s a softness in his expressionā€”something that tells you heā€™s been thinking the same thing. ā€œNo,ā€ he says quietly, ā€œthey never do.ā€
You exchange a glance with Father Charlie, a silent acknowledgment passing between you. He sees the cracks in your facade, the weight you carry, but you donā€™t speak of it yet. Instead, you let the stillness of the church settle over you like a heavy cloak.
From the corner of your eye, you notice a figure lingering near the back of the nave, her sharp eyes scanning the room with a quiet intensity. Nun Megan.
Sheā€™s always watching, isnā€™t she? Always hovering on the fringes, her gaze lingering just a second too long whenever youā€™re near Father Charlie. At first, you thought it was nothingā€”just her usual vigilance. But lately, youā€™ve felt her eyes more than ever, probing, curious. Sheā€™s never said anything outright, but the suspicion is there, woven into every glance, every pause when the two of you are together.
Today is no different.
She lingers by the back pew, her hands folded in front of her, eyes flicking between you and Father Charlie, as though waiting for something, anything, to confirm what she already suspects. You can feel the weight of her judgment, subtle but ever-present, like a shadow you canā€™t shake.
Father Charlie hasnā€™t noticed her yet, his focus still on you as he speaks softly, a reassuring tone to his words. ā€œYou know we canā€™t let this consume us. What we do hereā€¦ itā€™s bigger than us.ā€
His words are meant to calm you, to pull you back from the edge of frustration, but your thoughts are already racing. You glance toward Nun Megan again, just in time to see her quickly avert her gaze, pretending to adjust a candle on the altar. Sheā€™s watchingā€”of course, sheā€™s watching.
You wonder if sheā€™s been watching longer than you realize.
ā€œI know,ā€ you say, your voice low. But the bitterness creeps in, twisting your words. ā€œBut sometimes I think weā€™re expected to be more than human. How long are we supposed to pretend we donā€™t feel anything?ā€
Charlieā€™s eyes soften, but before he can respond, you see him glance over your shoulderā€”finally catching sight of Nun Megan. The tension in the room shifts, subtle but palpable. He straightens, his face smoothing into the calm, composed expression he wears so well. ā€œSister Megan,ā€ he calls out, his voice gentle but pointed.
She steps forward, her smile small and tight, her eyes darting between you both. ā€œFather Charlie,ā€ she says softly, inclining her head in a show of respect. ā€œI didnā€™t mean to intrude. I was justā€¦ making sure everything was in order.ā€
Her words hang in the air, innocuous enough on the surface, but thereā€™s something else there, hidden beneath her polite tone. You can see it in her eyesā€”the doubt, the questions she doesnā€™t dare ask.
Not yet, anyway.
Father Charlie offers her a kind smile, though you can tell he senses it too. ā€œEverythingā€™s fine, Sister,ā€ he says. ā€œWe were just finishing up.ā€
But even as she nods and steps back, you know this wonā€™t be the last time. Sheā€™ll keep watching, waiting for the moment when your guard slips. And when it does, sheā€™ll be ready.
As Nun Megan retreats to the back of the church, your pulse quickens. Youā€™ve held your composure for now, but the unease gnaws at you. The walls feel tighter, the air more stifling. Sheā€™s already too close, and itā€™s only a matter of time before she sees more than you want her to.
Father Charlie steps closer, his voice barely above a whisper. ā€œWe have to be careful.ā€
You nod, but inside, you know itā€™s already too late. Meganā€™s already seen enough to suspectā€”and suspicion, in a place like this, is dangerous.
ā”€ā”€ā”€
You lay on Charlie's bare chest, still breathless from the earlier exertion. The warmth of his skin radiates beneath your cheek, your fingers tracing lazy patterns along the scars and soft ridges of his chest. The room is quiet, save for the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the muted sound of your heartbeats thrumming together in the aftermath of what youā€™ve just shared. The intimacy of the moment feels stolenā€”like something you shouldn't have, but neither of you can resist.
You close your eyes for a moment, letting yourself sink into the softness of him, the way he smells of incense and something darker, something distinctly him. This is the one place where the world falls away, where the weight of your roles within the church, the expectations, the endless eyes watching your every moveā€”they don't matter here. In these stolen moments, youā€™re not the pious Mother superior they expect you to be, and Charlie is not the solemn priest. Here, in the seclusion of your shared quarters, you are simply you and him.
He lets out a quiet sigh, his fingers brushing through your hair as if to anchor you to him, to the present. You shift slightly, lifting your head just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes are softer now, the usual veil of composure lowered, revealing the tenderness he reserves only for you. Thereā€™s a question in his gaze, though, something unspoken yet palpable, like a prayer hanging in the air between you both.
ā€œDo you think she suspects?ā€ you ask quietly, your voice barely above a whisper, as though even here, in this hidden sanctuary, youā€™re afraid to speak too loudly.
Charlieā€™s hand stills for a moment in your hair, and he hesitates before answering. ā€œShe watches,ā€ he says softly, his tone measured but tinged with a hint of unease. ā€œMegan always watches.ā€
You bite your lip, trying to push away the knot of anxiety tightening in your chest. Nun Meganā€™s eyes have been everywhere lately, her presence lingering in corners, her footsteps echoing in halls where no one should be. You can feel her judgment even when sheā€™s not there, like a shadow creeping just behind you.
ā€œWhat if she knows?ā€ you ask, your voice shaking slightly. ā€œWhat if sheā€™s already seen too much?ā€
Charlieā€™s hand cups your cheek, drawing your gaze back to his. ā€œWeā€™ve been careful,ā€ he reassures you, his voice steady and soothing. ā€œBut even if she suspects, we wonā€™t let her tear us apart. Not here. Not now.ā€
His words should comfort you, but they donā€™t. Thereā€™s too much at stakeā€”too many risks. And yet, despite everything, you canā€™t pull away. The bond between you both is too deep, too powerful to sever. You close your eyes again, letting the quiet blanket you both, willing the worries to dissolve into the stillness.
But somewhere beyond the walls of this sanctuary, you know Nun Megan is watching. Waiting. And itā€™s only a matter of time before the veil of secrecy slips, and the forbidden truth of what you share is laid bare.
The silence between you and Father Charlie feels heavier now, like the air has thickened with all the unspoken words and the knowledge that your time together might soon be fractured by someone elseā€™s gaze. You shift your body, propping yourself up slightly on his chest so you can look at him fully.
His brow is furrowed, but he wears the same soft expression he always does when he's with you, the kind that calms your nerves even when the weight of the world presses in on you. You reach out and gently brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead, your fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary.
"You canā€™t be the one to carry all the worry," he murmurs, his voice deep and soothing, laced with that unwavering faith that youā€™ve come to rely on. He places his hand over yours, his thumb tracing circles against your knuckles. ā€œI can see it in your eyesā€”youā€™ve been holding too much inside.ā€
You want to deny it, to say that youā€™re strong enough, that you can bear whatever comes next, but you know heā€™s right. Thereā€™s too much weighing you downā€”too many people to answer to, too many demands, and far too many secrets.
ā€œIā€™m scared,ā€ you admit quietly, the words slipping from your lips before you can stop them. ā€œNot just of Meganā€¦ but of what happens if we get caught. What theyā€™ll do to us. What theyā€™ll do to you.ā€ You lower your gaze, the vulnerability of the confession hanging between you like a leaden weight.
Charlie exhales softly, his hand moving to your jaw, tilting your chin up so that your eyes meet his again. Thereā€™s something fierce in his gaze now, an intensity that reassures you despite the uncertainty swirling around you both.
ā€œWhatever happens,ā€ he says, his voice firm, ā€œweā€™ll face it together. They canā€™t take that away from us.ā€
ā€œWhat if itā€™s not enough?ā€ you ask, your voice barely a whisper. ā€œWhat if thisā€¦ this thing we share, this loveā€”what if itā€™s not enough to save us?ā€
The church is supposed to be a sanctuary, a place of peace and solace, but lately, itā€™s felt more like a prison. You can sense the walls closing in, the tension rising between the expectation of holiness and the very human desires youā€™ve tried so hard to suppress.
Charlie shakes his head slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. ā€œIt is enough,ā€ he insists. ā€œLove is the one thing that canā€™t be tainted by fear or doubt. What we haveā€”itā€™s sacred in its own way. Even if the church sees it differently.ā€
For a moment, you let yourself believe him. His words wrap around you like a protective shroud, and in this spaceā€”this room, away from the watchful eyes of the othersā€”itā€™s easy to imagine that maybe, just maybe, heā€™s right. That what you have can survive the scrutiny, the judgment, and the dangers that loom just outside these walls.
But as much as you want to cling to that hope, the doubt is still there, lurking at the edges of your thoughts.
You donā€™t say anything else, instead letting your head fall back against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath you. The sound is calming, a tether to the present, to this moment you share together.
But somewhere in the back of your mind, you canā€™t shake the feeling that time is running out. That soon, Nun Megan will step beyond suspicion and into certainty, and when she does, the fragile world youā€™ve built with Charlie will come crashing down.
Outside, the wind howls against the old stone walls of the church, a reminder of the world waiting for you beyond this small sanctuary. But for now, for this brief and precious moment, itā€™s just you and himā€”together, against whatever comes next.
ā”€ā”€ā”€
The sun hangs high in the clear afternoon sky, casting a golden light over the open field where the annual church picnic is in full swing. Children run through the grass, their laughter ringing out like tiny bells carried on the breeze, while the adults gather around tables laden with food, exchanging pleasantries and stories. You stand near the edge of the field, watching as a group of children pulls you into their game of tag, their faces lit up with joy and mischief.
You canā€™t help but laugh, your heart light as you chase after them, the stress and fear that have weighed on you for so long melting away, if only for a moment. The children's energy is infectious, their innocence a brief but welcome reprieve from the gravity of the world you usually inhabit. They dart around you, giggling and shrieking with excitement as they narrowly avoid your grasp, their small hands brushing against yours in passing.
You catch a young girl in your arms, swinging her around in a playful twirl before setting her down. Her laughter is so pure, so unburdened by the weight of the world, and it stirs something inside youā€”a long-forgotten lightness that youā€™ve almost forgotten was there.
From across the field, Father Charlie watches you, his eyes softening as they follow your movements. You are radiant in this moment, free from the burden of secrets and suspicion, your face bright with genuine joy as you interact with the children. His heart swells at the sight, an unfamiliar warmth spreading through his chest.
He has always admired your strengthā€”the way you carry so much, how you stand tall even when the weight of your responsibilities threatens to break you. But here, now, seeing you like this, surrounded by children, laughing freely, Charlie feels something different. Something deeper.
It's more than just admiration. Itā€™s a longing, a quiet ache for something more than the life heā€™s chosen. Watching you with the children sparks a warmth inside him he hadnā€™t known he could still feel, a yearning for a different kind of closeness. One that he knows is forbidden, yet he canā€™t help but dream about.
You twirl around with another child, your smile wide as they tumble into your arms. For a brief second, you catch Charlieā€™s gaze from across the field, and your eyes meet. Thereā€™s something in his look that makes your breath catchā€”a tenderness, a softness that youā€™ve rarely seen outside the privacy of your hidden moments together. His lips curl into a small, almost shy smile, as though heā€™s caught himself staring but canā€™t quite tear his gaze away.
For a moment, it feels as if the rest of the world fades away. The laughter of the children, the hum of conversations, even the sounds of natureā€”all of it dulls into the background as you stand there, frozen in that quiet exchange with Charlie.
Itā€™s a connection you feel deep in your chest, one thatā€™s always been there, simmering beneath the surface, but is now rising to the forefront, too powerful to ignore.
The children pull you back into the game, and the moment is broken, but the warmth of Charlieā€™s gaze lingers with you. As you chase after the little ones again, you feel a blush creep up your neck, knowing that even here, in the open, with the church congregation all around, thereā€™s something between you that no one else can touch.
Charlie tears his eyes away, his heart still beating a little faster than before. He forces himself to join in the casual conversations around him, but his thoughts remain with you, and that moment. Heā€™s always been good at keeping his emotions at bay, keeping his desires hidden beneath the layers of duty and faith. But now, watching you like this, he feels those walls crumbling, just a little.
And for the first time in a long while, he allows himself to wonder: What would it be like to have this warmthā€”to hold onto it, to let it fill the hollow spaces inside him? What would it be like if the life heā€™d chosen wasnā€™t a barrier but something that could coexist with the connection he feels with you?
He shakes his head, trying to push the thoughts away. But they cling to him, persistent, like the warmth in his chest that refuses to fade.
As the afternoon wears on, and the children slowly tire out, you make your way back toward the picnic tables where the rest of the congregation was. Your cheeks flushed with exertion, your hair slightly wind-tossed, and you catch Charlie watching you again, and this time, thereā€™s something in his gaze that makes your heart flutterā€”a promise, perhaps, or a confession yet to be spoken. Charlie begins making his way over to you, a warm smile on his lips.
One of the little girls run up to you once again, practically tumbling into your arms. You giggle, grabbing her waist and pulling her into your lap.
"Mother Y/N, have you ever wanted children?" she asks.
Her question catches you off guard. The little girl's innocent eyes peer up at you, wide and curious, and for a moment, youā€™re unsure how to respond. You feel Charlieā€™s presence nearby, his footsteps slowing as he hears the question, and your heart skips a beat.
You smooth the girl's hair back gently, buying yourself a second to gather your thoughts. Childrenā€¦ itā€™s not something youā€™ve allowed yourself to think about much, not with the path you've chosen. Being a mother in the literal sense feels like an impossible dreamā€”something meant for another life, another version of you.
Still, the warmth of the child in your lap, her trust and affection, tugs at something deep inside you.
You smile softly, running your fingers through her hair. ā€œI suppose I have,ā€ you admit, your voice gentle. ā€œThere was a time when I thought I might have a family of my own one day. But now... I think my place is here, taking care of all of you.ā€
The little girl tilts her head, a frown crossing her face as she processes your words. ā€œBut wouldnā€™t you like to be a real mama?ā€ she asks, her small hands gripping your arm as if to anchor you to the moment, to the question.
Before you can answer, you feel a presence behind youā€”Charlie has arrived. He crouches down beside you, his hand brushing your shoulder in a gesture so natural, so easy, that it almost makes your heart ache.
ā€œThe way you care for everyone here,ā€ he says softly, his voice warm and filled with admiration, ā€œI think youā€™re already a mother to so many.ā€
You glance up at him, your eyes meeting his, and thereā€™s something in his gazeā€”something gentle and understanding, but also deeper, more personal. His words resonate in a way that goes beyond the roles youā€™ve both taken on within the church. For a moment, you allow yourself to imagine itā€”what it would be like if things were different, if you and Charlie could have a life beyond the confines of the walls youā€™ve built around yourselves.
The girl beams, nodding in agreement. ā€œSee? Youā€™re like a mama to us already,ā€ she declares, then wraps her small arms around your neck in a tight hug before hopping off your lap and running back toward the other children, her energy renewed.
You watch her go, your heart swelling with a mixture of emotions. When you turn back to Charlie, heā€™s still crouched beside you, his expression softened by something you canā€™t quite put into words.
ā€œYou handled that well,ā€ he says quietly, his smile reaching his eyes.
You laugh softly, shaking your head. ā€œI donā€™t think I was prepared for that kind of question, if I'm being honest.ā€
He chuckles too, and for a brief moment, the world feels lighter, the weight of everything youā€™ve been holding inside lifted by the simple connection between you two.
But as the childrenā€™s laughter echoes around you and the other parishioners continue with their picnic, you feel the weight of reality creeping back in. This quiet moment with Charlieā€”this glimpse of what could beā€”feels like a fleeting dream. You know the path youā€™ve both chosen is far more complicated than that. Yet, as you stand together in the warm afternoon sun, you allow yourself to linger in this feeling for just a little while longer.
Charlieā€™s hand brushes against yours, lingering for just a moment, and you know that whatever happens next, whatever challenges come your way, you wonā€™t be facing them alone.
ā”€ā”€ā”€
The last light of day has faded, leaving the courtyard steeped in a deep, quiet twilight. You stand by the fountain, your fingers tracing the cold, rough surface of the stone. You try to breathe deeply, but frustration gnaws at your insides. On the outside, you wear the same mask you always doā€”calm, nurturing, and devout. But inside, thereā€™s an ever-present storm, growing louder by the day.
Your thoughts drift back to Father Charlie, to the comfort he offered earlier. His words felt like a balm on your wounds, but they didnā€™t erase the resentment. The weight of expectations presses on your shouldersā€”constant demands, endless servitude, all while suppressing the truth of who you are.
Your gaze flickers toward the chapel, half-hoping to see him stepping into the courtyard. But the figure that emerges from the shadows isnā€™t him.
Nun Megan.
Her steps are silent but deliberate, and her eyes are as sharp as ever. Youā€™ve noticed her watching latelyā€”her gaze lingering on you and Father Charlie, suspicion glinting in her eyes.
ā€œOut late again, I see,ā€ she says, her voice carrying a quiet accusation. She stops a few feet away, her gaze fixed on you, unblinking. ā€œYouā€™ve been spending a great deal of time in Father Charlieā€™s company.ā€
You stiffen at her words, but force yourself to remain composed. You know how to wear the maskā€”how to keep the perfect image intact. ā€œI seek guidance, Sister Megan,ā€ you reply, your voice measured. ā€œFather Charlie offers wisdom.ā€
Her lips press into a thin line, her expression hard. ā€œGuidance, is it?ā€ Thereā€™s no mistaking the suspicion in her voice now. ā€œWe all seek guidance, but youā€™ve beenā€¦ close.ā€
The accusation hangs in the air between you, cold and heavy. You feel a flash of anger rise within you, but you suppress it, keeping your voice even. ā€œWe are all called to be close to God. To each other, Sister.ā€
Megan steps closer, her eyes narrowing. ā€œPerhaps. But eyes are everywhere. You should be careful. Itā€™s my duty to protect the sanctity of this place.ā€ Her words are a thinly veiled threat, warning you that sheā€™s watching.
Before you can respond, a voice cuts through the tension.
ā€œSister Megan.ā€
You turn at the sound of Father Charlieā€™s voice, relief washing over you as he steps into the courtyard. His presence brings with it a sense of calm, as if the storm threatening to engulf you has momentarily eased. His gaze flicks between you and Megan, though when his eyes land on you, they soften.
ā€œIs there a problem?ā€ he asks, his tone neutral, but his eyes hold a silent reassurance.
Megan stands a little straighter under his scrutiny. She hesitates, clearly uncomfortable with challenging him, but her suspicion remains. ā€œNo, Father,ā€ she says finally. ā€œI was simply offering our sister here a reminder of her vows. Itā€™s important we maintain propriety.ā€
Father Charlieā€™s expression doesnā€™t change. ā€œOf course, Sister. We all must uphold our vows. You may return to your duties.ā€
Thereā€™s a pause, and for a moment, you think Megan might push further. But then she inclines her head and turns away, her steps sharp and purposeful as she leaves the courtyard. The weight of her presence lingers, like a shadow refusing to lift.
As soon as sheā€™s gone, you exhale, tension slipping from your shoulders. Father Charlie steps closer to you, his voice low and steady. ā€œShe grows more suspicious.ā€
You nod, swallowing against the knot in your throat. ā€œI donā€™t know how much longer I can keep doing this,ā€ you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. The mask youā€™ve worn for so long feels suffocating now, the weight of expectations unbearable.
Father Charlieā€™s expression softens, and when he reaches out, his fingers lightly brush your arm. ā€œYouā€™re not alone,ā€ he says, his voice filled with warmth. ā€œWeā€™ll figure this out. Together.ā€
His touch sends a spark through you, and for a moment, the weight of your burdens eases. But as you stand there, alone in the darkness with him, you know that the road ahead will only grow more difficult. Still, with him beside you, it feels less daunting.
You stay silent for a long moment, standing there with Father Charlie. His presence should be enough to calm you, but the weight of your thoughts has become unbearable, pressing down harder than ever before.
ā€œI never wanted this life,ā€ you finally whisper, eyes fixed on the fountainā€™s surface, the soft ripple of water reflecting the sky. ā€œWhen I was a little girl, I dreamed of something else.ā€
Charlie says nothing, letting you speak, his silence a kind of permission.
You take a breath, the memories flooding back. ā€œI used to imagine myself far away from hereā€”away from society, the rules, the eyes always watching. I dreamed of having a family, children running through an open field, laughter filling the air. I wanted to be a mother,ā€ your voice wavers slightly, ā€œto nurture my own, not just serve others.ā€
The words feel strange as they leave your mouth, like a confession youā€™ve never dared to speak aloud. Even though youā€™ve lived in service, dedicating yourself to this life, thereā€™s always been a gnawing ache inside you for something moreā€”something that belonged solely to you.
ā€œI imagined a small cottage,ā€ you continue, your voice growing softer, ā€œwith a garden, flowers blooming. Somewhere far from this place, where no one could judge me, where I could be free. I wanted to love, to build a life that was mine.ā€
Father Charlie shifts closer, his hand lightly brushing against yours, offering silent support.
ā€œBut insteadā€¦ I ended up here.ā€ The words hang in the air, heavy with regret. ā€œI thought I was doing the right thing, choosing this path. I thought it would bring me peace. But it didnā€™t. It feels like every day, Iā€™m giving up more of myselfā€”burying my real desires so deep I hardly recognize them anymore.ā€
Your throat tightens as a tear escapes, sliding down your cheek. The picnic earlier flickers in your mind, how for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to feel happiness. Real happiness. Sitting under the sun with him, laughing, letting your guard downā€”it had stirred something in you, something real and raw, a glimpse of the life you had always wanted.
ā€œThat picnicā€¦ā€ you murmur, your voice thick with emotion. ā€œFor the first time in so long, I felt alive. I didnā€™t feel like the person everyone expects me to be. I felt likeā€¦ me.ā€
Father Charlieā€™s gaze softens, and he doesnā€™t pull away when you step closer, his presence like a steadying force. ā€œItā€™s not wrong to want more,ā€ he says gently. ā€œYou deserve to feel whole.ā€
ā€œI donā€™t know if I can,ā€ you confess, your voice trembling. ā€œIā€™ve given up so much already. Whatā€™s left of me?ā€
He lifts your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes, and in them, you see the same conflict, the same struggle that mirrors your own. ā€œThereā€™s still time,ā€ he says, his words a quiet promise. ā€œThereā€™s still time to find yourself.ā€
Tears spill freely now, and before you can stop yourself, you collapse into his arms, seeking solace in the warmth of his embrace. For a moment, the walls around your heart crumble, and you let yourself feel the ache of all youā€™ve lostā€”the life you could have had, the dreams that seem so distant now.
ā€œI wanted a family,ā€ you whisper into his shoulder, your voice breaking. ā€œI wanted to be a mother, to love, to be loved. But insteadā€¦ā€
He tightens his arms around you, his voice barely above a whisper. ā€œYou are loved. In ways you may not see yet.ā€
Father Charlie holds you close, his arms steady around you as your tears soak into his robe. The dam has broken, and thereā€™s no holding back the flood of emotions anymore. You cling to him like heā€™s the only solid thing in a world thatā€™s crumbling beneath your feet, each sob rising from a place so deep it scares you.
ā€œI thoughtā€¦ I thought if I buried those dreams long enough, theyā€™d go away,ā€ you murmur into his shoulder. ā€œBut they havenā€™t. Theyā€™ve only grown louder. I see families, mothers with their children, and itā€™s like a knife in my heart. I want thatā€”so much it hurts.ā€
You pull back just enough to look up at him, eyes searching his face for understanding. His brow furrows, concern etched into every line. ā€œI feel trapped here,ā€ you continue, voice cracking. ā€œIā€™ve spent my life giving and giving, but no matter how much I give, I canā€™t find peace. All I ever wanted was a simple life, with love. But instead, Iā€™mā€¦ this.ā€
Father Charlieā€™s hand comes up to cradle the side of your face, his thumb gently brushing away a tear. ā€œYouā€™re not alone in this,ā€ he says, his voice soft but resolute. ā€œI see your struggle, and I feel it too. Every day I ask myself if I made the right choice. If this is what my life was meant to be.ā€
The vulnerability in his words makes your breath hitch. Youā€™ve never heard him speak like this before, never knew he had the same doubts gnawing at him. Itā€™s both terrifying and comforting at onceā€”knowing that even someone like him, someone who always seems so sure, is just as lost as you are.
ā€œI donā€™t know how to keep pretending,ā€ you admit, your voice a fragile whisper. ā€œThat picnic, earlier todayā€¦ it felt like a glimpse of the life I couldā€™ve had. And for just a moment, I was happy. Truly happy. But then it all came crashing backā€”the guilt, the expectations. The life I chose. It feels like a prison.ā€
Father Charlieā€™s thumb pauses on your cheek, and he lets out a slow breath. ā€œI understand,ā€ he says quietly. ā€œMore than you know.ā€
The air between you feels heavy, thick with unspoken truths and shared pain. Thereā€™s something unspoken in his gaze, a longing that mirrors your own, and for a brief moment, you wonder if heā€™s wrestling with the same thoughtsā€”if his dreams have also been sacrificed for a life heā€™s no longer certain of.
ā€œI never thoughtā€¦,ā€ you begin, but the words catch in your throat. ā€œI never thought Iā€™d feel this way, here of all places.ā€
His hand slips from your cheek to your shoulder, his touch warm and grounding. ā€œFeelings are complicated,ā€ he says softly, his eyes never leaving yours. ā€œSometimes, we think weā€™ve made peace with our choices, but deep down, our hearts tell a different story.ā€
A silence stretches between you, heavy but not uncomfortable. Thereā€™s something raw and honest about this moment, like the two of you are finally shedding the masks youā€™ve been wearing for so long.
ā€œI donā€™t know what to do,ā€ you admit, voice barely audible. ā€œI feel so lost.ā€
Father Charlieā€™s gaze softens, and he leans in just slightly, his face close. ā€œYou donā€™t have to have all the answers right now,ā€ he murmurs. ā€œBut you donā€™t have to face this alone.ā€
The weight of his words settles over you like a blanket, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you allow yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, you donā€™t have to carry this burden on your own. Maybe thereā€™s room for something moreā€”something real.
Your heart races in your chest, and you take a shaky breath, eyes locked with his. The closeness between you feels electric, every nerve in your body attuned to his presence, to the quiet intensity in his gaze. Itā€™s dangerousā€”this connection. You both know it.
But in this moment, itā€™s all you have.
ā”€ā”€ā”€
The church bells have just finished ringing, signaling the end of Sunday Mass. You stand outside with Father Charlie, your heart still heavy from the morningā€™s sermon. The congregation begins to disperse, everyone offering quiet blessings to one another as they leave. You and Father Charlie remain, lingering by the old stone archway. Itā€™s quieter now, the sacred stillness of the church grounds wrapped around you both like a secret.
He turns to you, his gaze soft and familiar, and you can feel the pull between youā€”stronger now than ever. The unspoken connection that had simmered all week after your vulnerable conversation feels unbearable in its intensity.
ā€œI shouldnā€™tā€¦ā€ you start, but your words falter as he steps closer, the warmth of his presence radiating into the space between you.
ā€œI know,ā€ he replies, his voice barely above a whisper. But the way his eyes flicker from yours to your lips betrays his struggle, mirroring your own.
Before either of you can talk yourselves out of it, your lips meet in a kiss. Itā€™s soft at first, tentative, but it quickly deepens, fueled by the weight of everything youā€™ve been holding back for so long. The world seems to disappearā€”just the two of you in a moment stolen from time itself, as your heart pounds wildly in your chest.
The kiss is both a comfort and a confession, a silent surrender to everything youā€™ve been too afraid to say. You clutch the fabric of his robe, pulling him closer, needing to feel the solidness of him, to anchor yourself in this forbidden moment.
But then, a gaspā€”a sharp intake of breath that slices through the intimacy like a blade. You break apart, breathless, and turn to see Nun Megan standing at the edge of the churchyard. Her face is a portrait of shock and disbelief, eyes wide, hand clasped over her mouth as though she cannot believe what sheā€™s just witnessed.
Your stomach drops, cold dread flooding your veins.
ā€œGoodnessā€¦ā€ she whispers, her voice laced with horror, ā€œwhat have you done?ā€
Father Charlie immediately steps back, but the damage is done. The air is charged with accusation, and you can see the betrayal written across her face. The weight of your actions crashes down around you, guilt mixing with panic.
ā€œMegan, itā€™s notā€”ā€ Father Charlie begins, but thereā€™s no stopping her now. She turns and rushes back toward the church, her steps frantic as if sheā€™s running to report what sheā€™s seen, to stop the corruption before it spreads further.
You and Father Charlie are left standing in the aftermath, the kiss lingering on your lips, now tainted with the knowledge that everything is about to change.
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ā†³ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
ā†³ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ā™”
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hanniebaeee Ā· 4 months ago
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Jealous
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Boyfriend Hyunjin x fem!reader
Warning: SMUT MDNI, jealous sex, some breeding kink (šŸ«£)
Genre: smut, fluff, established relationship
Summary: You cuddle with your best friend Chan during movie night, and it makes your boyfriend, Hyunjin, jealous.
He was angry.
You tremble as you keep your hands on the sides, not allowed to move them or touch him. And you weren't allowed to break eye contact. He sat in front of you, between your legs which were open for him. One hand on your thigh and the other, two fingers deep in you. You whimper as his long fingers curled within you.
You knew this was coming when Chan cuddled up with you on the sofa during movie night with the boys. Hyunjin had fixed you in a glare the entire time.
The glare was still there, and through the few dark strands of hair falling over his forehead and eyes, he looked almost evil. The first few buttons of his white shirt were open, showing off his toned chest. Your eyes fluttered shut as a familiar knot formed at the base of your tummy.
You gasp as Hyunjin pinched your inner thigh - that's definitely leaving a mark - and growled, 'Eyes on me.'
His fingers worked as he glared into your soul. Your cheeks were red with humiliation and pleasure.
'I can't Jinnie...' You sob. 'Too much-'
'Let it go then.' He whispered. 'Give it to me.'
He was finally letting you cum. Hyunjin bit his lip to stop himself from moaning. He was so hard and strained within his jeans. But he got some strange pleasure from being constrained like that. He couldn't wait to be inside you. He couldn't just wait.
'Hyunjin...' You whimper again and he couldn't hold back anymore.
Hyunjin leaned forward, enclosing his mouth around one of your nipples. Teasing it with his tongue, he sucked slowly. He loved doing this. He could go hours just sucking on them. YouĀ took the risk of touching him. Your fingers were in his soft hair as his lips left your nipples and moved to mark your neck and chest.
'Mine.' He said, as he nibbled on the skin above your nipple and licked over it. Hyunjin's soft shaky breaths and moans had you tipping over the edge soon.
You cry as you come undone, begging him to stop. You were so overstimulated - how long had he actually fingered you for? Your body shook at the sudden loss of contact. You lay back with your head on the pillow, eyes barely open. Your legs felt like jelly and the vibrations of your orgasm lingered on your body.
He strips slowly, giving you a good show, and he comes for you. You watch as he gets in between your legs and shiver as he pushed into you, all in one go. So does he.
'One more for me, baby.' he whispered against your lips. 'Just one more, ok?'
Hyunjin almost fainted as you clenched around him, making him moan. Tears sting the corners of his eyes as he feels the pleasure shoot through him, pressing his face into the crook of your neck.
'Baby... So tight.' he mumbled. 'Need to move.'
You nod, crying out as soon as he did. He thrusts into you roughly, and you don't really believe you can hold on much. Gripping at each other tightly, the two of you ride out your orgasms. Hyunjin came inside you with a groan, and slumped against you, face in your chest.
'Baby.' he whispered. 'I'm sorry.'
With ragged breaths and racing hearts, you lay there, a tangle of arms and legs. Hyunjin stayed still, relishing the feeling of being warm and snug inside you.
'It's ok.' You mumble.
You felt his mouth on your nipple again. Just little licks and a bite - leading another big suck. You whine, clearly not having it in you for more.
'I love you.' he mumbled. 'So much.'
'I love you too, baby.' You said, panting.
'Wanna see you pregnant with my babies.' he whispered, a hand brushing against your soft belly.
'Really?' You asked, heart fluttering. 'Where's this coming from?'
'Mhm.' Hyunjin said. 'I don't know...I just know it's something I want. Gonna fuck you everyday till you are pregnant. Then gonna fuck you every day till my baby is born. Then gonna fuck you everyday till you are pregnant again.'
You laugh, running your fingers through his hair, fondly.
'What about my baby Hyunjinnie? I gotta look after you first. We'll think about another one in a while, yeah?' You said, playing with his hair.
'I'm your baby?' Hyunjin asked, quirking an eye brow. 'I'm talking about giving you a baby.'
You feel your cheeks go warm again, and you laugh softly.
'Let's clean you up baby.' he said, pulling out of you slolwy. He groaned as he saw the white fluid dripping out of you.
'Stop staring, Hyunjin!' You whine, closing your legs and swatting him away.
'What, it's hot.' he said with a grin.
'Right.'
You have a quick shower together and help each other get dressed. Hyunjin changed the bedsheets as you sat sipping water from a bottle. Once done, you climbed in and cuddled, with your back against Hyunjin's chest and his arms tightly around your waist.
'It still smells like sex in here.' you complained, scrunching your nose.
'It does, doesn't it' Hyunjin hummed. 'That's what you get for letting Chan flirt with you.'
'He didn't. He's my best friend, Hyunjin He's like a brother to me, and you have nothing to worry about.' You say with a sigh. 'Besides he came out of nowhere, and I couldn't just push him off.'
'I know, but I can't help being jealous.' Hyunjin said, kissing you shoulder. 'I just needed a reason to fuck you.'
'As if you don't otherwise.'
'True that.'
a/n: Poorly written smut, I know, I'm learning šŸ™ But i was needyā¤ā€šŸ”„
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juleteinthrum Ā· 2 years ago
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Dancing. I'm dancing with Kiba
His tail swings out as we turn. I am dancing with Kiba
It's all in my head, all in my mindscape. Im dancing.
I'm dancing with Kiba.
His ears stay perked, until he gazes down at my face.
It's resting on his chest. My head on It's side, he can see my half lidded eyes.
I'm slow dancing with Kiba, our story continues to rise.
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lvstrucks Ā· 6 months ago
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breaks
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lando norris x reader
Being a couple both of whose love languages were physical touch, you and Lando were no strangers to a bit of playfighting. Lando loved nothing more than to tackle you onto the soft surface of a sofa or bed and watch you squirm playfully, collapsing into a fit of giggles as you tried to take control of his strong form and make him do what you wanted. It was perhaps the only time Lando would allow his competitive side to slide, letting you pin him down and sit on his toned stomach in victory.
So it was nothing out of the ordinary when he leaned against the doorframe, watching you pad around the kitchen making dinner in one of his Quadrant t-shirts he felt a familiar burst of love begin to creep up his abdomen. It was a quiet Friday night before the Monaco Grand Prix, the both of you enjoying the comfort of being in your own apartment before what was sure to be a hectic weekend.
As soon as you put down the wooden spoon you'd been using to stir the dinner, he makes a beeline for you.
"Lovie," he half mumbles, half laughs into your shoulder as he scoops you off the floor.
"Lando!" you giggle, making a feeble attempt to shrug him off. "Stop, I'm making dinner," you protest, while really having no intention of making him stop.
Lando twists you around so he's holding you horizontally, gripping onto your waist and starts to spin you around so you can't reach to push him off.
"You just look so cuddly and cute dressed like that," he defends, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "Just wanna love my girl a little."
You both shriek with laughter as he begins to spin you even faster. Lando's certain that hearing you laugh like that because of him is one of the best feelings he's ever had. He feels like he might be flying a little, until your left arm flicks out with the force of being spun and the sound of a crack against the marble counter stops him in his tracks.
"Baby?" He asks uncertainly as he sets you gently on your feet.
"Ow." you blink back tears. "That hurt. But I'm fi-"
You cut yourself off as your hearing becomes muffled.
"Lan, I can't..." you put both hands up to your ears, pressing as if to try and restore your hearing. It comes flooding back, along with a throbbing pain in your wrist as it pushes against your head.
"Fuck, baby. Fuck!" Lando says, snapping into action. Not only is his girlfriend clearly hurt, she got hurt under his care, and it was his fault too.
He grabs a bag of frozen peas from the freezer, pulling you gently over to a chair at the dining table and sitting you down. He hands you the bag of peas, gesturing for you to rest your hurt hand on it.
"Did it...always bend that way?" He asks quietly, face going pale as you both assess the situation. The tears begin to fall as the full brunt of the pain begins to hit and Lando is quick to lead you downstairs, getting you buckled into his car and running around to the driver's seat.Ā 
It takes a little while longer than normal to get to the emergency room, as lots of roads have been closed off in preparation for qualifying tomorrow, and Lando drums his fingers impatiently on the wheel.
"Not long, baby. We're gonna get you some help, and they can give you something to help the pain, ok? I'm right here with you." He tries to reassure you.
Good as his word, Lando doesn't leave your side once. He holds your hand whilst they set your fractured wrist back into place, gritting his teeth and keeping quiet as your nails dig into the calloused skin of his hands. He rubs your back softly as they wrap a pink (as requested) cast around.
You sleep on the way home, suddenly exhausted now the pain meds have kicked in. Lando watches you quietly each time he stops at a red light. He feels sick to his stomach as the red glare catches the streaks of dried tears on your cheeks.
Once back in your apartment, Lando carries you bridal style up to the bedroom. He undresses you quickly, taking care not to bump your wrist as he pulls one of his shirts over your head, one of the softer ones that you love to sleep in.
"I'm sorry," he mumbles into your hair as he wraps himself around you. "I'm so, so, sorry."
You shake your head softly, waking up a little.
"I know you are, Lando. It was an accident."
"But I promised I'd never do anything to hurt you, and I broke it. I broke you." He frets.
You lean up and press a kiss to his pouty lips.
"It was an accident, both of us were being silly. I'm not upset at you, just upset it happened. So please don't beat yourself up about it, okay?" you say and Lando nods solemnly, snuggling down so your head is laying on his chest. He strokes your hair softly and you breathe in his scent, closing your eyes.
"Does it hurt? A lot?" Lando asks quietly into the darkness.
"No." you lie.
Although you'd assured Lando you were fine in the morning, ready to come and support him during qualifying, you were quickly deteriorating as the day dragged on. You found yourself sinking into a cushioned seat in the McLaren hospitality, beginning to shiver as the ache from your wrist travels up your arm. Lando is busy preparing for qualifying, but Adam is talking to an engineer and notices his son's girlfriend fading into herself and walks over to check on you.
"Everything ok?," he questions you. "Should I get Lando for you? He gave strict orders to interrupt him at any time if you weren't feeling well."
"I just need my next painkillers, I think." you say, trying to smile in a way you hope is reassuring. "Do you know where they ended up? I didn't bring a bag so Lando had them in his pocket when we arrived."
Adam tells you he will go and hunt down your meds, but unsurprisingly Lando spots his dad looking around and excuses himself from talking to Zak in the garage and jogs over to the hospitality.
"Baby, are you OK?" He asks, wrapping you in a gentle hug. You sigh, sinking into his chest and allowing him to hold you up.
"It's just..it's really starting to hurt now." you say, and his heart sinks at the sight of your bottom lip beginning to wobble.
"I'm sorry, Y/N," he says truthfully. "Do you want to go home and take a nap there? I can get someone to drive you now."
You shake your head stubbornly.
"I want to stay and see how you qualify. I just need some pain meds."
"They're in my driver's room with my clothes." He explains. "Do you want to come with me? I have that fold-down bed in there now, you can have a quick nap?"
You nod, allowing him to lead you into his room. Once there, he hands you your meds and then slips his comfy cable-knit sweater over your head to stop your shivering. He does his best to tuck you in all comfy, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
"I'll come and wake you up in about an hour or so, ok?"
As he shuts the door behind him, he hears a soft "Thank you, Lan." He blows you a kiss, heading back to the garage.
When Lando comes back to wake you up, he's met with a much happier looking Y/N. You sit up on the bed, kissing his cheek and stretching.
"Do you have a pen anywhere? Or do you know where I can find one?" You ask.
Lando frowns, but gestures that he'll be one minute as he slips into Oscar's driverā€™s room for a second, returning with a Sharpie and handing it to you.
"What's it for?" He asks. "Are you going to vandalize McLaren to get me back?"
You giggle, standing up from the bed.
"I'm heading over to Red Bull," you explain, as if that would make any sense to Lando. "I'm going to see if I can get Max Verstappen to sign my cast. Ooh, and maybe I'll look for Charles too after."
"What?!" Lando splutters. He can't believe his ears. "You want Max and Charles to sign your cast before your own boyfriend? I know they were your favorites before we met, but have I made no progress?"
You laugh, flopping into him and leaning against his legs.
"It's because I don't want to exploit you, baby. I'm going to enjoy their signatures and then maybe sell the cast on eBay once it's off."
Lando bursts out laughing at your explanation, eyes squeezing shut as he holds you tight.
"My little businesswoman. Can I please be the first to sign it?" He asks.
You hand him the Sharpie, holding out your wrist to him. He takes it ever so gently and his tongue peeks out his mouth as he concentrates.
Twisting your arm around to read it, you grin as Lando looks proud of his work. Instead of signing as he would sign a hat or shirt for a fan, he's simply printed his name, followed by a collection of kisses and one wonky love heart. He lightly kisses your exposed fingers, then pats you cheekily on the bum as you pass him.
"Go get your signatures, baby."
thank you for reading! feedback is always appreciated <3
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yanderefarm Ā· 2 months ago
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May I request cuddling Emil and telling him how good of a mommy he would be
"mommy" emil
cw;; breeding kink, overstimulation, mess, feminization
this is probably poorly written but isn't everything. i have another request in the inbox of emil with a daddy kink ive been picking at. he can be your mommy or your daddy-
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no one would ever expect to see the king in such a pathetic position, it was more befitting a whore than his royal highness. but here he was; cum was dripping down his thighs, a mixture of yours and his own, and his neck down to his chest were covered in bruises, itmarks, and the wet traces of your saliva. you weren't faring much better, emil had left scratch marks on your arms and back that made you look more like you got in a fight with a cat. one of your scratched up arms was wrapped around emil's waist while the other was under his firm thigh holding his leg up. you were both still panting.Ā 
emil let out a pathetic cry when you tried to drag your cock out of his abused hole, his nails once again digging into your arm. you grimaced in pain but you were too tired to say anything opting to whine like a kicked puppy.Ā 
"stay." emil ordered through panted breaths.
you gently released his leg, allowing emil to relax into your arms. he let out a heavy sigh as his head hit your shoulder.Ā 
"baby... let me get you cleaned up." you could feel more of your cum leaking from where you two connected.
"how w-wuh, ngh" his presumably haughty words caught in his throat when you shifted slightly. "stay."Ā 
you couldn't bring yourself to argue with his needy demands, how fucked out he sounded still, nor the warmth of his wet hole. so you simply shifted your bodies to a more comfortable spooning position and you wrapped yourself around him. emil's pretty pink eyes fluttered as exhaustion started to take his body. you helped him along by peppering gentle kisses along the bruises on his neck. just as your husband was starting to drift to sleep he let out a little whine and squirmed against your body.Ā 
"you're going to leave as soon as I sleep." he said like a pouting child.Ā 
you sighed. "i won't leave."Ā 
"you'll pull out and clean up and I'll never get pregnant."Ā 
you stifled a little laugh at his words before you kiss his cheek again. "ok. i promise i won't."Ā 
"i don't trust you." his arms cross in front of his chest as he pouts.Ā 
you let out another heavier sigh. "you're tired, emi."Ā 
"then you should be tired too." more cute pouting.Ā 
"i am tired. that's why we should sleep." you kiss his cheek.Ā 
he just shakes his head, crossing his arms more aggressively to make a point. you pepper more kisses across his cheek until he turns into your kisses. you finally capture his pouting lips and he stops crossing his arms to wrap around one your neck instead. he lets out a pathetic little moan.Ā 
"emi, you're so good for me." you keep one hand on his stomach while the other slides down to massage his thigh.Ā 
"mmgh, you're just trying to trick me" heĀ rolled his head back against your shoulder.
"no" you kissed the corner of his lips. "you did so good tonight."
emil finally smiled, dragging you to kiss him again. "tell me how i'm good."Ā 
"you're so pretty. your skin looks so pretty all marked and messy," your fingers trailed up his sticky skin drawing more soft moans from him. "your moans are so pretty," you let your thumb gently brush against his soft cock causing him to shudder. "you look so pretty taking my cock."
you grunted feeling emil's hole clench around you. you moved your hand back to his stomach immediately trying to hold him still against you. emil hummed, satisfied at your reaction.Ā 
"i am pretty. what else?"Ā he had a cocky smile on his face at that point.Ā 
you sighed, your head falling forward to rest against his shoulder. "you're an arrogant bastard."Ā 
that just earned you a painful tug of your hair.Ā 
you rubbed your hands against his stomach drawing a moan from him. "do you feel that?"Ā 
emil looked down at the bulge in his stomach, his cheeks burning. "thats... you."Ā 
"that's how I'm putting a baby in you." you rubbed the bulge holding back your own moan. "you're gonna be a mommy"Ā 
emil gasped his lips just hanging open.Ā 
"you're gonna be such a good mommy. i can't wait to see you carrying my children." you kissed his cheek as you rubbed wider circles in his stomach. "you'll be so pretty and swollen."Ā 
"i can't." you watched in shock as tears started to brim in emil's eyes.Ā 
"does it hurt?" you stopped your motions.Ā 
emil touched his own stomach replacing your hands. "i can't be a good mother."Ā 
you let out a relieved sigh before you put your hand over his own. "i would be so honored if you would mother my children."Ā 
"i would hurt them..." he started to cry properly.Ā 
you kissed away his tears. "no. you protect you don't hurt."Ā 
"i kill everyone-" you caught his lips and gave him a passionate kiss. he melted into your arms, body relaxing.Ā 
"our children will be so lucky to have you." you reassured him after your lips finally parted.Ā 
"they'll be lucky to have you..." he nuzzled into you. "my pretty husband."Ā 
you pulled him into another passionate kiss, his free hand desperately pulled at you. he rolled his hips purposefully causing you to moan against his mouth. the hand still on his stomach rubbed into the bulge this time causing you both to moan.Ā 
"emi I'm tired." you whined when he finally let your lips part.Ā 
"you're going to put a baby in me tonight." emil pushed you onto your back causing you to let out a whine. he repositioned himself to straddle your lap.
"even if it takes all night."
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oreo-creampie Ā· 1 year ago
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ā€œš²šØš®ā€™š«šž š­šØšØ š›š¢š ā€
š°ššš«š§š¢š§š š¬: incubus!sukuna, witch!reader (sukuna's only), monster fucking, double dick, fingering both holes, sukuna cums on you, sukuna's hand mouth and stomach mouth, dacryphilia, mocking, light pain kink (Sukunaā€™s only), double penetration (anal and cunt), sweet soft choso, reassuring and checking in if your ok, riding, choso has a dick piercing, size kink, daddy/beautiful/little witch, praise
šŸšžš²: so after almost starting a bedroom fire with my laptopā€™s charger I have no laptop for the next however long. So after a lot of tears and some frustration then self care to calm my ass down here we are! Because AINā€™T NOTHING GONNA BREAK MY STRIDE AINā€™T NOTHING GONNA SLOW ME DOWN OH NO I GOT TO KEEP ON MOVING!!! Also I took Kento out because Iā€™m just not that into him anymore šŸ¤·šŸ½ā€ā™€ļæ½ļæ½ļæ½ so it would come across passionless
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ā€œYouā€™re lucky you're hot." The look of hunger in his eyes made it clear you'd invited a ravenous predator into your home. You want to be his breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert.
It's overwhelming the way Sukuna is fondling, biting, and stretching two of your tight, wet holes with his thick fingers. You're a toy in his large rough hands, laying beneath his massive muscular 8-foot tall stature.
He could easily rip you apart. The power imbalance turns you on as much as the sweet painful pleasure of his hands' mouth biting the soft squishy fat of your breasts. His warm tongues flicks your sensitive nipples. Pleasure and pain are becoming one and the same.
Thick tears trickle down the sides of your face. Sukunaā€™s smirk spreads, showing his sharp fangs. "You're being such a crybaby after having the audacity to summon me?" You can feel Sukuna's lust growing with your tears. His lust is heavy, intoxicating consuming, and hot, blurring the lines where your emotions lie.
Fucking three thick fingers into your squelching, quivering cunt. He remarks with a groan, "My little witch is an empath?ā€ He has the excitement of someone opening a gift.
ā€œFocus on my lust more, let it mix with yourā€™s and drive you mad. Iā€™ll fuck you till your body canā€™t keep up and you pass out." Closing his eyes, his jaw-dropping with a loud groan. Your sensitive cunt clenches from seeing his muscular body tremble over you through his large muscular body.
Looking down at you with more hunger than before. "You just keep tasting better." He's stroking your sensitive, puffy clit with his stomachā€™s tongue. "I can feel how close are as if I'm about to cum." It's getting harder to separate your lust from his. And you don't care to anymore.
The second you allow yourself to plunge into the deep end you're creaming. Squirting for the first time onto his thick fingers. "Feels-feels so gooood! Wanna keep cumming, gonna cum, wanna cum, gonnnnnn!ā€ He groans fucking your spasming, squirting cunt through your peak.
Gliding his fingers out of your ass. Pushing down his pants, stroking one of his thick, tattooed veiny cocks. Urging thick white cum to shoot out onto your belly. "Lucky for you it takes a several times before my cocks go off. Heh I canā€™t believe you got me off just by cumming. Youā€™re little cock sleeve body was meant for mine." Your eyes widen, your jaw dropping in disbelief. How are both supposed to fit?
Jerking your hips away in overstimulation as his tongue rubs your clit faster. He grabs your thighs firmly holding you in a mating press. "Did you think there would only be one?ā€ He drags his fingers through his thick cum on your stomach.
No wonder he wanted to stretch you out with three fingers to loosen up both your holes. Yet it doesn't stop you from claiming, "You're too big, it's-" He stuffs his cum coated fingers into your mouth.
"Ok and?" He lines both cocks up with your holes, whilst tightening his grasp on your thighs to keep you from going anywhere. ā€œYour slutty little holes are going to take me anyway, and Iā€™m going to fuck them till youā€™re gapping.ā€ Roughly rocking his hips forward, thrusting both cocks in. Both tips start with a soft round point making it easy for him to glide in.
He slips his fingers out of your mouth to hear your cries from the gradual stretch of his cocks. Getting thicker with each inch till it reaches the knot-like base. Your holes offer resistance too unable to take it just yet.
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Pushing his boxers down, you bite your lip tensing up beneath him. His pale thick veiny thick pierced cock is beautiful but ļæ¼ļæ¼intimidating. And ever since the first picture youā€™ve wonder how the warm metal is going to feel inside you.
Choso looks you over, concern etching into his handsome face. A wrinkle forming between his thin brows. His voice is gentle and comforting. ā€œIs this ok? Do we need to stop and cuddle?ā€ But your nervous bubble up all the same.
Glancing to the side, biting your bottom lip. He gently cups your cheek, swiping his thumb, trying to soothe your jumble nerves. You look into his loving purple eyes, the warmth and admiration within them captivating.
Breathing in filling your lungs then breathing out, "Youlookedtoobiginthosepictures." You had amassed a collection of pictures and videos showcasing his beautiful veiny cocky. From cum shot, to jerking off, to pre-cum dripping from his cock you had it all. Youā€™ve gotten off to Choso more times than you care to count.
Refusing to let your nerves stop you now when you so close to having your first time with Choso. "I want you to fuck me, I'm just worried it won't all fit. Or that it will hurt. Youā€™re so big Cho.ā€ His cheeks flush pink, his dark eyes widen, biting into his bottom lip.
Choso leans down, kissing forehead. ā€œHow about you ride me beautiful? Iā€™ll only move if you ask.ā€ The answer is easy to give.
ā€œPlease daddy.ā€ For the first time nickname slips out effortlessly. His compassionate, caring and understanding nature. Choso gently kisses you groaning loudly. The sound makes your cunt clench around nothing.
Whining aching to have your sensitive cunt filled up. Whilst your nerves trickle into excitement over just how big your boyfriend is. His broad chest and shoulders, well defined abs. His thick, sculpted arms, and muscular thighs. A thick, long heavy being cocks like his is suiting for his stature.
Parting your lips for him to glide his tongue past. Slipping your fingers into his soft, dark hair. He grabs your hips, squeezing your squishy hipā€™s crease.
Pressing his warm, thick cock to your soft, soaking wet cunt. Rutting his hips, rubbing his warm cock head on your sensitive clit. Breaking away, looking down at you wondering,
Choso is incredibly sexy with his hair down and messy. ā€œAre you sure you want this beautiful?ā€ Reaching between grabbing his cock lining him up. His eyes widen the second his fat head touches your quivering hole.
ā€œNnn I do! Want you so badly daddy!ā€ Choso glides just the tip in his abs clenching as he restraints himself from thrusting deeper into you. Shifting your hips from the pleasurable stretch of his cock head gliding inside. You can feel the soft ridges line of his cock head slipping inside you.
ā€œDarling, youā€™re so wet and soft.ā€ Picking you up by your hips, without moving you on his cock Choso carefully switches positions. Placing you on top his lap, straddling his thighs, loosening his grasp on your hips.
Rocking your hips, focusing on the feeling is his warm cock head stretching your cunt. ā€œThat itā€™s beautiful, take your time taking Daddyā€™s big cock. You going so good. You feel so good!ā€ He clenches your hips, digging his heels into the bed.
Getting used to being so split open, just his cock head alone feels too good. Rocking your back back, splaying your fingers on hus ā€œDaddy! I wanna be stuffed full of your beautiful, thick cock.ā€ Taking a little more, groaning as his warm barbell glides into you. Choso trembles, jerking his hips up.
Rubbing your clit, making your sensitive cunt clench. ā€œSorry beautiful. How are you feelinggnnnn!ā€ You bounce your hips, gliding him in and down. The beautiful look of pleasure on Chosoā€™s handsome face getting you off.
Moaning, ā€œIā€™m so full of your cock daddy! It feels too good. Please move, slowly.ā€ Planting his feet, gently guiding you with his hips. Gliding half his cock into you, letting your cunt get used to being so full before giving you another inch. Watching your expression for any hint of pain.
strawberry brat all works
ā€œitā€™s too tightā€ toji, suguru, satoru & choso
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buckys-wintersoldier Ā· 7 months ago
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Just a little bit where Bucky has his fun with you and a toy.
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Pairing -> Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader
Wordcount -> 534
Warnings -> 18+, Minors DNI, Dom!Bucky, fingering (female!receiving), using of a toy (fem!receiving), slight edging, mention of multiple orgasm, squirting
Request -> Hey! Hope you're wellā¤ļø I saw your drabble ask game so I thought I'd request a Bucky Barnes + sex toys drabble if possible? Love and thanksā¤ļø @ijustneedpopcorn
A/N -> Thank you for the request, Iā€™m oke I guess, hope youā€™re well too and hope you enjoy it.
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist
"Come on, doll. You can give me one more, can't you?" Bucky asks, ignoring your whines when he presses the vibration toy against your pussy once again.
Your pussy is sore from the orgasm he already gave you. But he just loves your whines, moans, and begs when you ask him to come again. He loves the way your nose scrunches slightly and when you throw your head back while pleasure is rushing through your body.
Your legs tremble and your fingers dig into the sheets underneath you while Bucky smirks at you, his fingers entering you once again. With the pleasure of the toy against your clit and his fingers inside you, you feel the orgasm building up in your lower belly.
"Bucky, please. I'm so close, can I come?" You ask, your eyes pleading while you look into his beautiful steel-blue ones. He shakes his head, grinning when you throw your head back and groan, frustrated.
His fingers in your pussy speed up; he curls them and hits, with every little movement, your sweet spot, bringing you closer to the edge. The toy stimulates your clit, his fingers touch your sweet spot, causing your eyes to roll back. Your eyes water, and the feelings are so overwhelming that tears fall down your cheeks.
"Bucky, please. Iā€”I need to come, so bad," you whimper, pushing your hips more against his hand and the toy.
"You said you couldn't come another time. Why are we so desperate now, doll?" He asks, laughing softly when he feels your walls squeezing his fingers and sucking them deeper into your pussy.
"Wanna come so bad, please," you beg, your orgasm just a few more thrusts away, and you don't think you can hold back any longer. But you also know that you shouldn't come unless Bucky allows you to do so.
He sighs, curling his fingers once again. His eyes are piercing into yours; you're biting your lip, trying to distract you from your orgasm. "Oke, doll. Come all over my fingers and show me that you're such a little desperate slut for me, doll."
With that, you come all over his fingers, squirting all over them. Bucky holds the toy still, pressed against your clit, making you whine in pleasure and pain. Bucky curls his fingers over and over inside of you, fucking you through your orgasm.
"Doing so well for me, doll. Come here," he says, removing his fingers and the toy and holding his arms open for you to get closer to him until he can wrap them around you. Bucky pulls you into his lap, kissing your neck slightly. "You did so well. I love you, my pretty girl. So well, I'm proud of you."
You snuggle more into his chest, letting him hold you as close as possible while you slowly calm down from your high. Your legs are still shaking and your breath is heavy, but Bucky's soft touches and his kisses calm you down, grounding you.
"I love you too, Bucky," you say quietly, pressing your face against the crock of his neck and inhaling his scent deeply. His fingers draw small circles on your skin, and you smirk softly.
Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @lives-in-midgard @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @nervouseden @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel
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taeiun Ā· 1 year ago
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sweet venom.
synopsis: when you pull them by the collar of their shirt to kiss them
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who: zb1's middle & maknae line x gn!reader (yujin not included)
categories: fluff, sort of suggestive, hurt / comfort, headcanons + short scenarios
warnings: light swearing, mentions of food in gyuvin's section, not proofread bc im such a slay so please please please lmk if there's more
word count: 1.5k
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āœ§ MATTHEW !
āŸ” you do it to shut him up /hj. affectionately. this canadian man is funky and we love and cheer for him because of that. but boy do most canadians have something in common: talking. (as a canadian im allowed to say this)
āŸ” in this case, itā€™s not storytelling or his ad campaigns, itā€™s about how he loses to you in mario kart for the fifth time in a row. for all i know, he could be cracked at mario kart, but letā€™s be honest, he would somehow go from second place down to eleventh within a matter of minutes.Ā 
āŸ” matthew isn't a sore loser by any means, his whining about losing are mainly all for fun and to tease, but after the fourth gameā€¦ maybe he does gaf yā€™know :/Ā 
āŸ” pouty!!! also probably throws the controller, lightly mind you, to the side before taking a deep breath in and letting out a silent scream into his palms as the screen flashes with another loss for him.Ā 
āŸ” kiss it better otherwise heā€™ll never play again (thatā€™s a lie) (heā€™d do almost anything youā€™d ask him to) (whipped)
matthew leaned his head back against the couch cushion and pinched his arm to make sure that this was real as his character finally crossed the finish line. in eighth place. you looked over at him encouragingly, made a remark about how this was better than last game, before patting his knee. he threw you a scathing glare, whines bubbled up from his throat, and he leaned his full body weight against you. he didnā€™t notice that there was a tug on his shirt, the soft cotton balled up in your fist as you pulled, before his lips were on yours, his whines drowned out. it was embarrassing how fast he melted into the contact, eyes closed as he rested a hand overtop of yours, heā€™d never live it down.
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āœ§ TAERAE !
āŸ” a kiss like this with taerae would most likely happen in a slow, sort of slow, heat of the moment thing. but it would be a softer, gentle tug of his shirt. nothing too fast.Ā 
āŸ” you both would probably be looking at each other already, coming down from the high of hanging out together before bam! it hits the both of you that ā€œwow. i'm incredibly in love with this person.ā€Ā 
āŸ” nglā€¦ heā€™d be a bit too hesitant to do much about it at first. but i mean. thatā€™s why youā€™re the one gripping his shirt collar and not the other way around-
āŸ” he stares at you with wide eyes and a facial expression like :o when his lips are suddenly pressed against yours. but taerae recovers from the shock fairly quickly and leans into it, eyes closed as he kisses back with the tease of a grin on his face.Ā 
āŸ” heā€™ll pull away with the biggest smile and pinch your cheek before going in to kiss you again, being the one to pull you in this time.
water dripped from his thoroughly soaked hair, trailed down his jaw and continued to dampen the fabric of his shirt, leaving no place dry as you both stood outside amidst the rain. he stared at you, breath coming sharp from his mouth as he looked at you in some awe. you laughed and in return, so did he. you cupped his face gently, wiped a thumb under his eye to clear the water, efforts futile. taerae grabbed your hand and tugged, nose bumped against yours, before he greedily took your lips in his once again.
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āœ§ RICKY !
āŸ” heā€™s insufferable istg / j. ok but you not be able to get away with this move properly imo without having some sort of built up tension. as in the type of tension to cut with a knife, the opposite of taeraeā€™s.Ā 
āŸ” ricky would be able to see you go in for the kiss from a mile awayā€¦ he just. knows these things somehow and is prepared. he would have to be distracted enough, emotionally, in order to pull it off.Ā 
āŸ” that or you wrestle him and pin him for long enough. i have such a strong urge to grab this guy by the necktie and shake him around a little. affectionately i swear.Ā 
āŸ” despite the colder appearance, ricky is emotionally intelligent and he does have his softer moments. the aftermath of a fight would be the main scene i picture this happening in?Ā 
āŸ” ā€œdo you even want this?ā€ // ā€œwhat-ā€ // ā€œdo you even want us?ā€ // ā€œof course i do.ā€ type of beat do you get me? you feel me? you hear me? set me freeee- erm.Ā 
there was something about the silence, weight undeniable as you and ricky stood opposite of each other. shoulders tensed, he heaved out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose as you dug your nails into the palm of your hand in a closed fist. you knew what was coming; the rush of doubts and worry that would spill from his mouth about the relationship and how he constantly felt as if you deserved better, how he was the damage. you marched with a purpose towards him, placed a hand firmly on his waist as he knotted his brows together in mild confusion, before butterflies bursted in his chest. the pressed collar of his shirt would need ironing later, crumpled in your tight grasp, but ricky couldnā€™t find it in himself to care all too much, not when he cupped the back of your head and pressed you closer.
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āœ§ GYUVIN !
āŸ” it would be a ā€œdid you eat the last donut in the fridge?ā€ // ā€œyes. what are you going to do about it?ā€ // ā€œget it back of course.ā€ // *starts making out* type of thing.Ā 
āŸ” we know this man has the best reactions to things so just. he flounders when you first kiss him out of the blue; like a literal fish out of water despite this not being the first time lol.Ā 
āŸ” idk i just feel like this would happen so often?? like i see gyuvin dating someone with similar energy and excitement towards things (not to say he wouldnā€™t date you otherwise. man falls hard in general) but just imagine doing something dumb and then one of you pulls the other in.Ā 
āŸ” ā€œi canā€™t believe you just did that.ā€ // ā€œyeah well.ā€ // *making out again* this whole thing is just. gyuvin coded imo. maybe im just sleep deprived.Ā 
āŸ” when you do it howeverā€¦ he canā€™t do anything but stare are you with those eyes of his. you already know the ones. shellshocked, flabbergasted, stunned, electrocuted, astonished, etc etc.
you grinned as gyuvin flailed his arms before resting them on your shoulders, slumping into the kiss. it was sweet in a literal sense; you could taste the powdered sugar and jam that stained his mouth from earlier. his face was fully flushed when you pulled apart. you giggled and swiped a thumb at the corner of his lips, collected the last bit of your sweet treat, and brought it to your mouth with a wink before walking away like nothing ever happened.
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āœ§ GUNWOOK !
āŸ” omg the scene i have in mind is when you have to leave for a while, talking like a month or more, and wonā€™t be seeing gunwook for the next while. heā€™s so intent on making things work out for all the time you guys are doing the ldr.Ā 
āŸ” runs through a list of everything youā€™ll need to pack, triple checks everything with you, makes sure you have the right flight bookedā€¦ youā€™ll have to pull him aside and reassure him that youā€™ll be fine and that he doesnā€™t need to worry about anything; doing all that is kind of a stress reaction.Ā 
āŸ” is so jittery leading up to the day where you have to leave :( clears his schedule to the best of his abilities to make sure he has all the time with you.Ā 
āŸ” 100% is seeing you off at the airport donā€™t even think otherwise. ā€œyouā€™ll call me when you land, right?ā€ // ā€œof course.ā€ // ā€œand youā€™ll update me with stuff youā€™ve done? And sec pictures of yourself?ā€ // ā€œsweetie-ā€Ā 
āŸ” kiss him to shut up but softer and with more tears bc he will start crying and bury his face into your shoulder.Ā 
gunwook thought he looked horrible, face puffed up and nose runny as he sniffled and wiped away the tears in the corners of his eyes. you thought completely the opposite; there was something about the early morning sun that shone through the windows and highlighted the rosy parts of his cheeks and the small pout he wore on his lips. he opened his mouth, ready to go on another ramble before you delicately pressed your lips against his. the drawstrings of his hoodie were twirled between your fingers as you pulled lightly on the thick material. he smiled into the touch, eyes still rimmed with tinges of red, and held on for one last kiss.
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^ . _ . ^ notes: first post on the new blog... apologies for any mistakes im notorious for writing these late at night and giving up when it comes to proofreading TwT.
Ā© taeiun 2023. all rights reserved. do not copy, repost, translate, modify, or claim any of my writing as yours.
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nanamiscocksleeve Ā· 3 months ago
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Sleep is overrated for Xavier and can you feel how much I want you for Zayne if these haven't been requested yet pleasešŸ«¶šŸ½ā¤ļø
Hey anon! Sorry I'm getting to this kinda late, I was sick and just started to feel better. Normally I'd say limit one prompt per request but since I didn't get that many I'm writing both (and because I'm a sucker for these two).
ā€œSleep is overrated. I have better ideas.ā€
ā€œCan you feel how much I want you?ā€
--------
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Xavier:
It was a rare day off and Xavier was snuggled into you, your back pressed comfortably against his chest. You knew being a hunter drained him and that sleep was a luxury for him. However, you were just needy enough today that the sight of him getting ready to fall asleep was making you antsy. You turn in his arms, pushing your face up to his.
Blue eyes already heavy from a long's day work blink at you. "Are you ok?" His long fingers idly play with your hair, pushing it back behind your ears, a sleepy smile twisting his lips.
"Xav, are you planning on going to bed already?" You run your fingers down the front of his tshirt hoping to rouse him but he yawns loudly as the question is asked.
"I was. I'm sleepy."
ā€œSleep is overrated. I have better ideas.ā€ You hold your breath waiting for his reaction and see a little twinkle in those captivating eyes.
"Better ideas? Like what?" Curious, he props himself up on his elbow to look at you.
"Oh you know...just...cute little ideas..." You boldly trace your fingers further down his chest, running bast his belly and suggestively give a light stroke at the front of his pajama pants. His sleepiness evaporates in an instant, every nerve in his body at attention.
"What are you doing angel?" he asks tentatively as you stroke him again, then reach out to cup him in your palm, feeling the softness morph under your touch.
"Isn't it obvious?" you tease then start pulling down the waistband of his underwear and pajamas at the same time. Pink dusts his cheeks but he allows you to do so, covered only by the blanket. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, his newly hardened cock now in your grip and pump him enticingly.
"Does that feel good?" you murmur sweetly in his ear, hot breath tickling him as he lets out a groan. Xavier manages to nod and you continue playing with him, stroke after long stroke of your small, soft, hand bringing him closer and closer to the edge of pleasure.
His hips start to roll on their own accord, matching the pace of your hand as you bite and kiss his neck.
"Mhhmm...that's so good angel..." his voice pants, thick with desire as your dextrous fingers continue to pet him. Precum leaks from his tip and you gather them to further lubricate him, movements growing slick and fast. Heat gathers in his abdomen and he can't control the noises he makes, hoping for it to come to peak soon.
A low, gravelly moan escapes him as he orgasms, spurts of cum erupting from his tip and falling messily onto your hand, little spasms punctuating his pleasure at the base of his cock.
He gazes at you in adoration and you grin.
"Still sleepy?"
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Zayne:
Your arms are wrapped around Zayne's neck as he kisses you, tongues mixing and lips desperately locked against the other's.
It hadn't been that long since you'd had sex but the two of you had a hard time keeping your hands off each other, growing clingier as the day had progressed. Zayne's intentions were made clear from the moment you stepped into the car, his broad hand caressing your thigh as the other remained on the steering wheel. Your bare bodies are flush against each other and you feel tight hardness pressing against your thigh.
ā€œCan you feel how much I want you?ā€ He rasps, grinding himself on the soft plushness of your legs, his head bowed against your collarbone. "You make me...so weak for you..."
His lips capture yours possessively as his fingers dip between your wet folds, gently stroking before inserting a thick finger into your leaking core, his thumb coming up to rub circles on your clit. Your lips part to let out a sigh of pleasure, struggling against his actions, the sweetness gathering in your pussy too good to describe.
Your nails tighten on his back , leaving marks, whining needily. "Zayne don't stop...that's perfect..."
"I have no intentions to stop if it's making my pretty girl feel good," he says in a smooth whisper and you bury your face into his shoulder as you cum, pussy spasming around his fingers in harmony with your clit. Colors fade in and out of your vision as you ride out the waves of pleasure before collapsing back onto the bed. Zayne licks his fingers clean before positioning and sheathing himself into your warm cunt.
Both of you hiss in pleasure as he bottoms out, stretching you deliciously. "Can you take it?" He asks as he starts to thrust.
You nod dizzily, your brain turning to mush as he strokes your inner walls.
"That's my good girl."
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hmusunoo Ā· 4 months ago
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š“šˆšš“šŽš„ - šš€š‘šŠ š’š”šš†š‡šŽšŽš
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desc. ā”‚ÉŖį“› į“”į“€źœ± į“€ į“œÉ“į“€É“ÉŖį“į“į“œźœ± į“…į“‡į“„ÉŖźœ±ÉŖį“É“ į“›Źœį“€į“› Ź™į“€ŹŸŹŸį“‡Ź€ÉŖÉ“į“€ į“˜Ź€į“į“…ÉŖÉ¢Ź Ź/É“ į“”į“€źœ± į“›į“į“ É¢į“į“į“… źœ°į“Ź€ źœ±į“į“į“‡į“É“į“‡ ŹŸÉŖį“‹į“‡ į“˜į“€Ź€į“‹ źœ±į“œÉ“É¢Źœį“į“É“. ÉŖį“› į“”į“€źœ± į“Ź™į“ ÉŖį“į“œźœ± ÉŖÉ“ į“›Źœį“‡ É¢ŹŸį“€Ź€ÉŖÉ“É¢ į“Šį“œį“…É¢į“į“‡É“į“›į“€ŹŸ źœ±į“›į“€Ź€į“‡źœ± į“›Źœį“€į“› źœ°į“ŹŸŹŸį“į“”į“‡į“… į“›Źœį“‡į“ į“€Ź€į“į“œÉ“į“… į“€į“› źœ±į“„Źœį“į“ŹŸ į“Ź€ ÉŖÉ“ į“›Źœį“‡ į“”į“€Ź į“›Źœį“€į“› Źį“į“œŹ€ į“˜į“€Ź€į“‡É“į“›źœ± Źœį“€į“… Źœį“€į“›į“‡į“… źœ±į“œÉ“É¢Źœį“į“É“ į“€É“į“… į“‡į“ į“‡Ź€Źį“›ŹœÉŖÉ“É¢ Źœį“‡ źœ±į“›į“į“į“… źœ°į“Ź€. Ź™į“œį“› Źį“į“œ į“…ÉŖį“…É“ā€™į“› į“„į“€Ź€į“‡ į“€Ź™į“į“œį“› į“€É“Ź į“źœ° į“›Źœį“€į“›. É“į“į“› į“É“į“‡ Ź™ÉŖį“› į“źœ° ÉŖį“› į“€į“› į“€ŹŸŹŸ.
pairings. ā”‚ Ź™į“€į“… Ź™į“Ź!źœ±į“œÉ“É¢Źœį“į“É“ x É¢į“į“į“… É¢ÉŖŹ€ŹŸ Ź™į“€ŹŸŹŸį“‡Ź€ÉŖÉ“į“€!Ź€į“‡į“€į“…į“‡Ź€
warnings. ā”‚ źœ±į“į“œį“› (Źį“‡źœ±ā€¦ÉŖā€™į“ É¢į“ÉŖÉ“É¢ į“›į“ į“›Ź€Ź), Źœį“€É“į“…į“Šį“Ź™, É¢į“‡į“›į“›ÉŖÉ“É¢ į“„į“€į“œÉ¢Źœį“›, źœ°į“Ź€Ź™ÉŖį“…į“…į“‡É“ Ź€į“į“į“€É“į“„į“‡, į“˜į“€Ź€į“‡É“į“›į“€ŹŸ į“ ÉŖį“ŹŸį“‡É“į“„į“‡, į“›į“xÉŖį“„ į“˜į“€Ź€į“‡É“į“›źœ±.
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It was a unanimous decision that ballerina prodigy y/n was too good for someone like Park sunghoon. It was obvious in the glaring judgmental stares that followed them around at school or in the way that your parents had hated sunghoon and everything he stood for. but you didnā€™t care about any of that. Not one bit of it at all. They didnā€™t know Sunghoon like you did, they didnā€™t know that sunghoon was caring, he was sweet, he was romantic.
Sunghoon would do anything for you and you him. Including sneaking him into your house in the middle of the night while your parents slept only a few doors down.
Your parents hated Sunghoon, loathed him. Your father had called him filth the first time you brought him around to meet them. They had forbade you from seeing him, they didnā€™t like his motorcycle or his down low attitude.
They thought of him as a lowlife nothing. Sunghoon was far from a lowlife, and just because he didnā€™t grow up rich or with parents that gave him everything didnā€™t mean he wasnā€™t capable of taking care of you, or loving of you.
Trying to convince your parents that was an impossible task. One you had eventually gave up on. You continued to see Sunghoon not allowing them to take control of your life. You may be a ballerina but you arenā€™t fragile. You could take care of yourself and you knew what you wanted, and what you wanted was Sunghoon.
Your phone was ringing. The constant buzz awaking you from your sleep. You snaked your hand underneath your pillow haphazardly searching for your phone. Your eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room glancing over at the alarm clock that sat on your bedside table, it read 1:26am. Glancing at your phone you see Sunghoonā€™s name flashing across the screen. In a daze you answered you voice horse with sleep.
ā€œHoon?ā€ You whispered into the phone ā€œItā€™s 1amā€
ā€œIā€™m outsideā€ There was a chatter to his teeth, probably due to the frigid cold of the january night. You hurried out of bed, hair disheveled in a tank top and frilly shorts to your window peering outside to see a shivering sunghoon.
You opened your window ā€œBalcony!ā€ You whisper shouted at him. Signaling him to meet you at the balcony. He nodded tucking his hands into his pockets and making his way to the balcony that connected to your room. You opened the sliding doors to your balcony being extra careful at being quiet.
You would never hear the end of it if your parents were to catch Sunghoon sneaking into your house in the middle of the night. They would be livid, they would ground you forever. Even at the grown age of twenty-one it seemed you was still a prisoner to your parents rules while in their house and while they paid for your ballet classes.
Sunghoon climbed the balcony as quiet as he could, letting out a soft grunt when he finally reached the railing, jumping over and landing on your balcony swiftly like the goddamn Spider-man.
"Ok Peter Parker" You teased at Sunghoon, flashing him a cheesy smile.
"I'f I'm Peter Parker that would make you my Mary Jane" His arms wrapped around your waist bringing you into him. He buried his face into your hair and inhaled. "You smell good" He mumbled as you giggled at his sweetness.
"I'm about to freeze to death if we don't go inside you" You had began to slightly shiver due to the cold. Sunghoon picked you up swiftly causing a small yelp to escape your lips.
"Park Sunghoon!" You giggled "put me down you barbarian" He opened the door to the balcony smoothly and closed it just as smoothly.
A sharp sting to your butt had you yelping in surprise as Sunghoon landed a slap to your behind. He tosses you onto your plush bed landing amongst the pillows and fluffy duvet that had adorn your bed.
Sunghoon made a show of crawling over to you slowly, running his hands up your legs and finally to your hips. "I love making men crawl" You teased looking up at Sunhoon as he hovered over you. His laugh rang through the room, you flinched slightly at the sound, hoping and praying that your parents were sleeping too deeply to hear it.
"Only for you baby" Sunghoon said, the smirk on his face giving. away all his intentions for tonight. He landed a soft kiss to your collarbone and another to the nape of your neck, making his way up until he reached your face. He. kissed your cheek softly before letting out a huff of air and plopping down beside you on the bed beside you.
"What did you do today?" he asked you nonchalantly. You had no interest in small talk. You hadn't seen Sunghoon in three days you have missed him, badly.
"Practiced" You mumbled, rolling over onto his body. You straddled his lap making your own way over his face and neck with your lips. Peppering kisses over his cheeks and down his neck. "Yeah?" He asked a breathy-ness to his voice that had further fueled your need to please him. "And then what?"
"Yeah" You whispered "and then I went shopping for new ballet flats" Your hands traveled down Sunghoon's zipper slowly bringing it down to tuck your hand in, freeing his hard cock from the confines of his jeans.
Sunghoon let out a small hiss when your hand made contact with his length. Long and heavy in your nimble hand you fisted him, moving your wrist up and down. "Did you find the fuck- the right flats baby?" Sunghoon wheezed out breathing turning heavier as your small hand moved up and down on his length, slowly at first.
"Mhm" You mumbled looking up at Sunghoon meeting his wild eyes as they frantically looked at you, dark with desire. Sunghoon licked his lips before looking down at your hand as it started moving with more speed. Up and down. "They're white with tiny little lace flowers on the top."
"Just like that sweetheart" Sunghoon groaned out forgetting all topic of conversation, throwing his head back against your soft pillows. "That feels so fucking good"
"Just like this?" You asked quickening the speed of your hand.
Sunghoon lifted his head up slightly too look at you, his eyes flicking from your face to your hand that was tightly wrapped around his cock then to your breasts that sat perfectly perky in your little pink tank top that he loved so much. He licked his lips meeting your eyes before looking down at you boobs once again.
"You want me to use them hoon?" You said not letting up on the speed of your hand.
Sunghoon's rapid nod akin to his suppressed groan was all the confirmation you needed. Reaching for the thin straps of your tank top you yanked them down each arm until your chest was on full display to his hungry eyes. "Fuck yes" Sunghoon moaned "You're so fucking hot"
His compliments only served as fuel to your ever growing need to please him. Your hand left his cock to squish your breast together over his cock barring them between, the head poking out inviting you to bend your head down kissing it softly.
You began moving your breast up and down on his cock, spitting on them to make your movements that much easier.
"Holy f-fuck" Sunghoon hissed out, all worries of your parents hearing you fleeing. His moans turned slightly high pitched as you continued your movements on him. His hands found his way to your face, cupping the apples of your cheeks.
"you're beautiful" He whispered in a daze. His thumb came up to your lips begging for you to open your mouth and suck on it.
You continued your movements bringing Sunghoon closer and closer to his end. "I'm almost there" Sunghoon said in a rush chest heaving.
The sudden bang of a door swinging open knocked you backwards, your hands scrambling to cover your chest, a feeble attempt indeed.
"What the fuck is going on in here?" The boom of your father's voice shook you to your core. The terror of what he just walked in on leaving you speechless. You scrambled to find yourself in the heap of mortification of the moment.
Sunghoon was up on his feet his cock back in his pants and his zipper zipped back up. Your shaking hands reached for you tank top straps yanking them up your arms.
"W-why didn't you knock?" You shrieked, coming face to face with the red angry face of your father and the disgusted look on your mother's.
Your father's attention was on Sunghoon now. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest. Your father moved in a flash yanking Sunghoon by his jacket. "What the fuck are you doing in my house in the middle of the night, you filth!"
Sunghoon's face was red from embarrassment or anger you truly didn't know. Probably both.
"Get off him!" You yelled grabbing at your Father's arm. Your dad yanked his hand back, pushing you to the ground in attempt at pushing you off of him. You looked back at your mom in bewilderment, but she just sat there emotionless not looking you in the eye.
"Don't fucking touch her" Sunghoon hissed out at your Father, his face red definitely from anger.
"Don't tell me what to do in my own house you punk" My father yanked at Sunghoon again before pushing him towards the balcony door. "Get out! Go the way you came. You're never to see my daughter again or you'll regret it."
Sunghoon turned around to look at your father a calmness on his face that had only scared me rather then comfort me.
"That won't be happening sir." Your Father let out a scoff "I love her, and nothing you say will keep me away from her."
Your father let out a full body laugh before nodding his head. "Ok" He said surprising every bone in my body, that quickly vanished in an instant as soon as the next few words left his mouth.
"If you don't stop seeing this scum, I will pull your inheritance and the funding for your ballet classes. You will no longer be a dancer. Do I make myself clear?"
A sob left me at this ultimatum. Your heart cracking in more ways the one. "Dad" You said weekly "Plea-"
"No." Your father stated firmly. "Do I make myself clear?"
without giving you time to respond he turned back to Sunghoon who sat there looking almost as broken as you, his eyes only on you not even your father.
"Get out" Your father said again, and this time Sunghoon had listened. Backing out the door, his gaze still on you before he jumped over the railing making his way down.
Through your sobs you looked at your dad with disgust written all over your face, and with the sharpest tongue and most poisonous venom you could muster you yelled "I hate you."
A sharp slap was heard not even a second later, the sting from your father's hand felt like it would last forever. A gasp was sounded before your mother's voice was heard over your cries "Y/d/n!" She shouted.
"Do not speak to me that way" Your father spit out "You act like a whore you'll get treated like one. If you want to continue to dance you will no longer be seeing that boy"
Sobs racked your entire as your father stormed out of the room in a fleet of anger. You your mother were left alone. You looked up at her with blurry eyes and a shattered heart.
"Mom" You croaked out only to be met with the shake of her head and a sigh before leaving the room after your father.
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At ballet class you could forget about most things in life that had left you troubled. The sound of the music and the way your body had reacted to it had left your mind empty. You could only think of the simple things in life. The easy things. It was simple that you loved ballet. At one point in your life you would have given anything to dance, it was your striving force in life.
It kept you going, it was the most important thing to you no matter what. It left you wondering when exactly all that had changed, because here you were doing something you know without a doubt your sixteen yourself would be absolutely mortified to see.
You were giving it up. You were giving up your number one passion in life. The one thing you couldn't live without. Or you thought. Because it seemed you had found something else worth living for. Someone else.
Sunghoon had meant too much to you, and you'd be damned if you'd let a love like his go.
Some people would call you absolutely foolish for making this decision but you didn't care. You would choose Sunghoon in every single lifetime.
After Dance had wrapped up you felt like you had made peace with your decision, preparing yourself for the fight that would be inevitably happening when you got home and informed your parents of your rebellious decision to stay with Sunghoon and give up dance.
You left the dance class building with your duffel bag slung over shoulder and your head held high. What you didn't expect to see upon leaving the double doors was Sunghoon casually leaning against his motorcycle, hands in his pockets looking just as ethereal as he always did.
"Sunghoon!" You said rushing to him, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him tight. "What are doing here?" You said smiling up at him.
He smile was small, the look on his face slightly grim. It had made your stomach drop in an uneasiness you didn't like at all.
"What's wrong?" You asked with urgency. His arms wound tighter around your frame holding you impossibly close to him.
"Should we go somewhere?" You asked pulling away to hop on to the back of his motorcycle like you had a million and one times before. Before you could reach his motorcycle Sunghoon was pulling on your arm lightly.
"What's that bruise on your face" His voice was stern, a tone you were not used to hearing from him. "It...it was my father" You said horsely "But, it's ok." You rushed out quickly. "I'm giving up dance, I'm telling him today"
The smile was back beaming up at Sunghoon with a lovesick look on your face.
"What?" Sunghoon spit on "Y/n you can't do that"
Your eyebrows knit together in confusion at his words. You had thought he would be happy to hear this. You and him would be able to be together without all the fighting from your dad since he would no longer be able to hold the funding for dancing over your head.
Sunghoon's reaction was the exact opposite of what you were expecting it to be.
"What?" The confusion was evident on your face "I thought- I thought you would be happy about this?"
"You thought that I would happy that your'e giving up the best thing in your life up for me? Your god given talent. No. I cant let you" Your heart had felt heavy at his words, the reality of what was happening sinking in.
"Sunghoon..he's going to take my funding away anyway." You said looking up at him. He averted his gaze from you, looking down at the floor. "We can't keep it a secret again he's going to be on me so much harder now..."
"We're not keeping it a secret Y/n" Sunghoon's voice was weak and frail sounding. It was the most small I had ever heard him speak.
"I think.." He trailed off his eyes still not meeting yours no matter how much you silently pleaded for them to. "I think we should stop seeing each other Y/n."
"No" You said weakly "No, no forget about my-"
"It's not about that y/n" Sunghoon interrupted you with a sigh. "I can't let you give up dance ok? Not for me"
There was an ache so deep in your chest you felt like it was going to explode. The contents of your shattered heart to be on full display for everyone to witness.
"You're not 'letting me' I'm choosing to Sunghoon it's my choice." You fought back, your voice cracking breaking the smallest chance you had of seeming strong.
"You're only doing it for me y/n and I cant accept that. I won't be the reason you give up something youā€™re so amazing at." He took a deep breath grabbing onto your shaking hands bringing them to his lips and kissing them lightly.
"You once told me that dance was your world, that it was the one thing that had ever made you feel important. I would never forgive myself for being the source of that all coming to a stop." He let go of your hands, a glisten to his eyes that you had never seen from him before. It had shaken you to your core.
"Please" You whispered "pl-"
"I love you." Sunghoon said sternly. "Go be the greatest ballet dancer this world has ever seen ok?"
He left a single kiss to your temple, not allowing you to say another word before he was getting back onto his motorcycle. Helmet in his hand he says "Take care of yourself y/n"
The tears continued to fall down your face as you watched him speed off down the street cursing yourself for not fighting harder, for allowing his words to render you motionless.
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The next few weeks had felt like a fever dream, an emotionless blur you were a robot of yourself. Eating, sleeping and speaking only when necessary.
You were getting ready for one of the biggest recitals of your career. A lot of important people were coming to watch you dance. Normally you'd be excited, nervous but ready. Now you felt shallow. You didn't care who was going to be there you didn't care that this was one of the most highly anticipated recitals for most of the dance world. In truth you just wanted to get it over with.
The night of the recital was becoming a blur. Your mother and father were there in the crowd awaiting your grand entrance. Your makeup was down flawlessly, you hair in a slick by high bun and your corset top tight to your chest.
You should feel beautiful, radiant even but all you could think about was how you didnā€™t want to do this. You didnā€™t want to get on stage and dance for all these people. You didnā€™t want the pressure and most certainly didnā€™t want hundreds of eyes watching you like a hawk only to judge your every move.
ā€œYouā€™re upā€ Your dance instructor said coming up behind you startling you from your thoughts. You nod your head at her readying yourself to get on stage.
The Music began, you ran out to center stage under the spot light moving your body in all the ways you were taught. The routine going off without a hitch. You start to feel yourself starting to enjoy it when all of a sudden a flash of certain someoneā€™s face had made that all come crashing down.
Sunghoon was tucked into the very back of the theater but you wouldnā€™t dare miss his face. You could point him out in a room full of a million people. He sat there eyes ablaze as he watched you dance. His presence had overwhelmed you, it had distracted you. One wrong leap into the air and you were hurriedly down hitting the floor hard with a big thump, your head slamming into the floor boards below you leaving you in a daze. Your body was frigid, the mortification of falling in front of all these people seeping in like a chill to your bones.
You would never live this down. Your father would be furious and you might as well kiss your chances with all these reps goodbye.
You had fell. During a simple leap you had let yourself slip. It had felt like a punch to the gut when your instructor had ran out to the stage, shouting for them to close the curtains cutting off all visibility of you and your utter humiliation.
ā€œY/n?!ā€ A frantic voice was heard from the crowd. A deep, husky voice you had loved. It was Sunghoon, Sunghoon was here and you werenā€™t imaging it. He had come to watch you on the most important night of your life and you had ruined it.
You head was spinning and your vision blurry. You heard frantic shouting from voices you didnā€™t know and some that sounded familiar but you couldnā€™t quit place them.
Then suddenly all you could see was darkness.
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The sound of beeping and thin white walls was what you had awoken to much later on. Your head was groggy and your mind a jumbled mess of itself.
You knew what happened i mean how could you forget but you didnā€™t know how you had ended up here. The conclusion that you had passed out had been easy to come to after a few minutes of thinking about it.
You looked around your room, it was empty save for some clothing items strewn about that indicated that people had been in here with you.
The sound of muffled speaking just outside the door also a clear indication that someone was here with you. Probably your parents. But foolishly enough you couldnā€™t help the small amount of hope that Sunghoon had come. He had shouted for you at theater, that you were sure of. You just didnā€™t know if heā€™d come here, where your family most likely occupied. In truth he was the only person you actually wanted to see.
ā€œHello?ā€ You said hoarsely the words not coming out loud enough to penetrate the door and be heard outside. So instead you pressed the nurses button notifying them that you were awake. Within a minute or two a nurse rushed in with your mom quick on her heels.
ā€œYouā€™re awake!ā€ Your Mother wailed grabbing your hand as the nurse started to inspect you a bit closer. ā€œHow do you feel?ā€
ā€œOkā€ You said voice still hoarse and scratchy. You looked around the room, your eyes landing on a black leather jacket that you knew all too well.
ā€œSunghoonā€ you said in a whisper looking up at your mom with wide eyes gaging her reaction.
ā€œHeā€™s here sweetheartā€ Your Mother said rubbing your hand with her palm. ā€œHe came..Heā€™s just outside-ā€œ
ā€œTell him to come inā€ You said quickly, taking your mom aback a bit. ā€œPleaseā€ You added on.
Your mother nodded getting up from her spot besides you. She reached the door hand on the handle before turning around to look at you. ā€œYour father did not comeā€ She said, a glum look on her face. ā€œIā€™m sorryā€
You nodded, the hurt from him not being here stung more than you expected but it was painfully obvious that your father was not going to change his mind. It was something you were going to have to accept no matter how much it hurt you.
A few minutes later the door opened revealing Sunghoon in his plan white tea and black jeans.
ā€œSunghoonā€ You didnā€™t know what else to say. The embarrassment from falling earlier creeping in on you.
ā€œIā€™m sorryā€ He blurted out before you could say anything else. He sat next to you occupying the spot your mother was just in. ā€œIā€™m so sorry Y/nā€ There was a crack to his voice you had never heard before, one that had surprised you.
ā€œWhy are you sorry?ā€ You asked confusion laced in your words. ā€œYou have nothing to be sorry for.ā€
He shook his head a tear falling from his eye. ā€œI thought that letting you go was for the best. That being a dancer was the most important thing for you to do..and iā€™m sorry for making that decision for you. When i seen your head hit that floor today as hard as it did i had felt a pain i had never felt never. I fear i had never felt before.ā€ He cupped my cheek lightly lifting my head to look at him. Tears fell down my cheeks, his thumb whipping them away in one swift motion.
ā€œI love you, iā€™ll support you in whatever you want to do. Iā€™ll get 4, 5, 6 jobs if i need to, to help you pay to keep dancing if thatā€™s what you want. i donā€™t care. i just want to be with you.ā€ This was a side of Sunghoon you had never seen before, a vulnerable side he hadnā€™t really ever shown anyone.
ā€œYou donā€™t have to begā€ You teased ā€œI love you tooā€ You leaned you forehead on his ā€œWeā€™ll get through this i promiseā€ You kissed him. It was soft and delicate and light and sweet and perfect. You didnā€™t know what was going to happen after this. You didnā€™t know how your dad would fair with this, or what kind of life you were going to live but all you knew was that it was going to be with Sunghoon, and that really was all you needed.
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Guys. iā€™m literally so sorry. This was absolutely TRASH. It was going so good in the beginning and then it just spiraled down down down. Hopefully you give me another chance in the future lol.
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- @heeswif3y , @guapgoddees , @ramenoil l , @yunhoswrldddd , @starfallia , @woorcve , @onlyhyunjin , @iheartshopping , @nikiswifiee , @inayalamourr , @capri-cuntz , @littlemissana-0 , @immelissaaa , @winuvs s , @tinyteezer , @notevenheretbh1 , @st1llm0nster , @021894s , @awqken , @taeghi
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thegnomelord Ā· 11 months ago
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Ok, so I loved your dragon reader/ dragon price fic. The detailed courting rituals got me thinking about how different members of TF 141 react to a s/o who has different courting rituals than them.
The one rolling around in my mind rn is Gaz (which I'm pretty sure is a harpy or bird hybrid of some kind) with a dragon reader.
So Gaz tries to court reader through a more fancy version of pebbling. But, instead of giving cool rocks and sticks, it's gemstones and weapons. Yknow, expensive/fancy things that Gaz thinks the reader might want to add to his hoard.
Btw do you have an anon list? If so, is šŸ‘‘ anon available?
I don't have an anon list yet but you're welcome to be šŸ‘‘anon!
It's cool to think how they'd try to court you. I hc that werewolves, and Johnny by extension, are really straightforward. Like sitting way too close, hands roaming over your body, trying to lick into your mouth and going "Hey wanna make more of us?"
Ghost, the poor thing, is completely fucked bc he was human before becoming a wraith, how the Hell is he supposed to know? Que him going through Wikipedia articles and watching documentaries of your species courting and mating (having to rub one out imaging you and him in that position ofc) and just stumbling through the whole courting thing.
CW:NSFW
But Gaz? Oooh Gazā€”
Safe to say he's fallen ass over tits for you.
It's the way you take care of them, of him, of the monstrous strength used to defend them turning velvet soft when Gaz needs emotional support that has his harpy hindmind demanding to lock you down before a competitor snatches you away.
Only problem ā€” you're not a harpy. And Gaz has no idea how courtship works, as when he asks Price about it (under the guise of just being curious) the old fart just gives him an amused look and tells him to figure it out.
Though harpies and dragons are two different species, he figures there must be some similarities, so he figures to listen to the old fairy tales about your kind and looks for the shiniest thing he can find, because Harpies court by giving gifts and dragons like to hoard and both of them like shiny stuff right?
You're confused like Hell when one day you wake up to find a silver ring with a shiny amethyst sitting on your windowsill. You know for a fact it's not yours as the instinct to catalogue every item in your hoard is as old as the draconic blood running through your veins and you'd remember if you had it.
When you make sure it's not stolen and no owner can be found, (because who'd wear that type of ring in a military base?) you decide to keep it, failing to notice how the way Gaz's pupils get bigger when you put the ring in your pocket.
It is a nice ring, the shine of the gemstone tickling your brain in a pleasant way. The military doesn't allow dragons to have large hoards, most of the items you've gathered over the decades and centuries safely hidden in vaults, but it feels good to have a small hoard in your den.
You expect this to be a one off event. But. No. Every few weeks you find a new thing on your windowsill, from gems to guns to additions to weapons you've expressed you'd like to get. Each new thing leaves you scratching your head, annoyance growing bit by bit as there's never enough scent on the items to track the culprit down and it's not like you can turn the base upside down looking for them (again).
You're unsure how to feel; it's obvious someone is trying to court you, but it definitely can't be Price because no dragon would go about it like this. But you have to admit it's nice to be desired, regardless how odd the method may be.
Then you notice how Gaz has started acting. . . different. He'll ruffle his feathers and flutter his wings more than usual when you two are alone, purposely stretch more often to make your eyes naturally draw to him, sticking to your side as he talks about everything and anything under the sun.
You're also not a fool. You can figure out it's a harpy's way of trying to show off, but without any open hostility you can only assume he's trying to court you. And you let him, you like his presence and the sound of his voice, the way he gives you a lopsided smile and the way his dark feathers shine like onyx gems when the light hits them juuust right and the way he flushes and stutters when your tail wraps around his leg.
Then one late evening when you're doing paperwork you catch sight of something behind your window in the corner of your eye. Like a flash you're opening the window, your clawed hand gripping Gaz's hand before he can scatter.
Gaz's wings spread out wide, a surprised squawk leaving him as he looks into your slitted eyes. "Uh-, I, eh- Hi?" He says, gulping, his newest gift, a very shiny ruby, held in his hand. But what draws your eye are his dark feathers.
You let out an amused snort, "Hello." You purr, leaning in so your faces are close, enjoying the way he flushes from the proximity. "So you're the little thief that's been visiting me."
Gaz's feather puff up to make his silhouette twice as big, his eyes narrowing, a hurt and angry look spreading across his features. "I'm no thief!" He says, insulted that you'd suggest he can't get you gifts on his own. "I-"
"You are," You hum, reaching out your other hand to hold his jaw, and even with his anger he feels his mind croon at how softly you touch him. "You're in the process of stealing my heart."
"Oh." Is the most intelligent thing he can come up with, his pupils blowing wide like he'd just seen the shiniest thing in his life. "Oh."
"Yes," You shrug and pull your hand back to yank one of your scales out of your shoulder, giving it to him as you take the ruby. "Keep this safe for me, yeah?" You hum and then you let him go, going back to your work while he's left dumbstruck, clutching the scale close to his chest.
When it finally settles in his head that you'd just given him a gift, that you'd reciprocated, and given him a shiny gift, oh he's treating that scale like it's the most precious thing in his world. He keeps it close to him, cooing to it in the privacy of his room, keeping it on his pillow so he can fall asleep with your scent in his nose.
He also doubles down on the gifts, but now he's very open about it, to the point you'll have him randomly come into your office to give you something shiny or another weapon, preening so prettily when you praise the thing he's brought back, nuzzling into your neck and fluffing up his feathers. His heart swoons when you show him the small hoard you've made with all the things he's brought you, and you end up spending the entire evening with him cuddled up to you, chirping happily.
"Hey, can I see that scale I gave you?" You ask after a couple of weeks, curious to see how he's treated it.
"Uh, sure." Gaz can swear his heart's beating like a war drum as he watches you inspect your scale, checking for scratches or cracks.
But you find none, it's still as shiny as the day you'd given it to him. Maybe even shinier.
You smile and before he can do anything you pull him close to you by a hand on his hip. "Very well done, little thief." You hum, kissing him. Gaz melts against you, not even your lips able to muffle the happy chirps and croons that escape his chest.
You spend the next few months getting familiar with each other's bodies, lazy evenings spent with your clawed hands preening his wings, Gaz steadily melting into the bed with every brush of your fingers. Kyle taking a few extra minutes in the morning to rub his face between your wing, chirping and crooning.
Harpy mating season comes around and you're caught off guard when you come to your room to find your covers and pillows and entire wardrobe on the ground, turned into a makeshift nest with a very naked, and very horny, Gaz sitting in the middle of it.
His eyes are hazy but he knows you're there the second your scent hits his nose, the most desperate sound you've ever heard leaving his lips, bruised from how hard he'd been biting them to reign his noises in, to keep them only for you.
"Mate-" Kyle whines, shuffles in the nest that has the pretty gems he'd gifted you strewn amongst the fabric, "-need you, please- I-"
One more needy sound is all it takes to have you tumbling naked into the nest in record time, deep guttural purrs answering his pleased coos. He presses flush against you, seeking out your mouth, whole body burning up and his thighs shaking, his cock rock hard.
"I got you, pretty thief." You rumble, pulling him into your lap, his wings spreading out and feathers puffing up, as if he needs to make himself look even more desirable. "What do you need Kyle?"
"Need you," Kyle whines, pawing at your own erection, desperate fingers shaking as he strokes you, "Please- hurts, I need- mate."
You shush him with sweet kisses, your hand sliding down to very carefully stretch him open while avoiding injuring him with your claws, your mind purring at how willingly he opens up for you, wings and limbs shaking as he whimpers against your lips, his mind steadily leaking from his cock.
"You're alright," You calm him when you pull your fingers out, positioning him so your cock head rests against his entrance, not missing how Kyle preens at your strength. "Going to breed you right, gonna take care of you."
"Yes, yes, yes!" Kyle moans are loud as you steadily push your cock into him, his walls clamping down on every inch of your length. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank- mate." His claws dig into your shoulders, clutching you tight as you bottom out in him, his hole clenching you in sync with his ragged breathing.
"I'm here," You hum, barely able to think, "Just relax, let me take care of you." You say, feeling him relax into you, and with deep purrs and lots of praise you begin to fuck him, moving him like a fleshlight on your cock, letting him moan and groan and scream his heart out uncaring who hears it, your ancient blood singing at the thought of his noises being a testament to your abilities as a mate.
Then the tight heat and the scent and just Kyle has your mind forgetting how to think, your body moving on it's own to show Kyle he'd picked a good mate.
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louisaskywalkerani Ā· 6 months ago
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Whispers in the Dark, forbidden embrace.
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Pairing :Ā Anakin Skywalker x f!Reader
synopsis :Ā anakin reassures you about your forbidden relationship in more ways than one.
CW :Ā 18+, smut! minors DNI. no movement but, p in v penetration, cock warming.
an :Ā ok this is my first fanfic i've ever written, i'm completely petrified tbh, i tried to do my best, if u can give me some advice, it would be super nice. enjoy this ig.. the end is also inspired by @ohcaptains !!
The dim lighting in the temple corridor casts long shadows. Anakin's footsteps echo softly as he approaches you, a determined look in his eyes. You've been avoiding him, knowing the danger of your connection. Tonight, there's no escape.
"Anakin, we shouldn't be here," you whisper, your voice trembling with the weight of unspoken emotions.
He steps closer, his presence overwhelming. "We canā€™t keep pretending, not anymore," he replies, his voice husky. "The Council doesnā€™t understand what we feel."
You look into his eyes, seeing the conflict mirrored in your own. "What if we're caught? The Councilā€”"
"Screw the Council," he interrupts, his hands gently cupping your face. "I need you. We both know this is more than a fleeting desire."
Your breath hitches as his thumb brushes over your lips. "Anakin, we're risking everything."
"Some things are worth the risk," he murmurs, leaning in. His lips capture yours in a kiss that speaks of months of longing and suppressed passion. The kiss deepens, and you feel the warmth of his body against yours, his heartbeat pounding in sync with your own.
Breaking the kiss, he rests his forehead against yours. "Tell me you donā€™t feel the same, and I'll walk away."
You close your eyes, the truth undeniable. "I canā€™t," you admit softly. "Iā€™ve tried, but I canā€™t."
With a relieved sigh, Anakin wraps his arms around you, holding you close. "Then letā€™s not fight it anymore."
ā€”
The night is serene, stars twinkling above as if to guard your secret. Anakin spreads his cloak on the ground, inviting you to sit beside him. ā€œRemember when we first met?ā€ he asks, his voice a soft murmur.
You smile, the memory clear in your mind. ā€œYou were so arrogant,ā€ you tease. ā€œI thought youā€™d never take anything seriously.ā€
Anakin chuckles, his hand finding yours. ā€œAnd you were so serious. Always following the rules.ā€
A comfortable silence settles between you, the bond deepening with shared memories. You both lie down on the cloak, looking up at the stars. "I used to think the stars held our destiny," you say, your voice barely audible.
"They still do," Anakin replies, his fingers intertwining with yours. "But we can choose our path."
The quiet of the night is broken only by the soft sounds of the temple gardens. Anakin turns to you, his eyes reflecting the starlight. "Do you ever wonder what life would be like if we didn't have to hide?" he asks, his voice tinged with sadness.
"All the time," you admit. "But the life we've chosen doesn't allow for what-ifs."
Anakin's grip tightens around your hand. "We could leave. Start a new life, far from here. No rules, no codes, just us."
You look at him, the sincerity in his eyes making your heart ache. "And what of our duties? Our responsibilities?"
"We've given enough," he says fiercely. "Isn't it time we lived for ourselves?"
The temptation is strong, the vision of a life with Anakin almost too beautiful to resist. But the weight of your commitments anchors you. "I donā€™t know if I can."
Anakin sighs, pulling you closer. "I can't lose you," he whispers. "Not now, not ever."
"You won't," you promise, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "We'll find a way to make this work."
The night stretches on, filled with whispered words and tender touches. As dawn approaches, you both lie entwined, the weight of your choices pressing down but the warmth of your connection offering solace. For now, in this moment, you are together, and thatā€™s all that matters.
You lay there, enveloped in the warmth of each otherā€™s embrace. The temple gardens, usually so serene and quiet, now seem to pulsate with the forbidden energy of your bond. The leaves rustle gently in the night breeze, almost as if they are whispering your secrets.
Anakin strokes your hair gently, his fingers tracing patterns that send shivers down your spine. ā€œIā€™ve always admired your strength,ā€ he says softly. ā€œYouā€™ve kept us hidden so well, even when it must have torn you apart.ā€
You sigh, nuzzling closer to him. ā€œIt hasnā€™t been easy,ā€ you admit. ā€œEvery time I see you, I have to fight the urge to run into your arms. But Iā€™ve never regretted it. Not for a moment.ā€
His grip tightens around you, as if he fears you might slip away. ā€œI want to show you something,ā€ he says suddenly, sitting up. ā€œCome with me.ā€
Curious, you follow him through the winding paths of the garden until you reach a small, hidden alcove. The moonlight filters through the leaves, casting a mystical glow over everything. Anakin kneels and presses a hidden switch, revealing a small passageway.
ā€œHow did you find this?ā€ you ask, amazed.
ā€œI have my ways,ā€ he replies with a wink. ā€œCome on.ā€
The passage leads to a secluded chamber deep within the temple, one that even you, with all your knowledge of the place, had never discovered. Itā€™s filled with ancient artifacts, relics of Jedi history, and texts that seem almost forgotten by time.
ā€œI come here to think,ā€ Anakin says, lighting a small lantern that casts a warm glow over the room. ā€œItā€™s a place where I can be myself, away from the pressures of the Council and the weight of my duties.ā€
You walk around, marveling at the treasures surrounding you. ā€œItā€™s incredible,ā€ you whisper. ā€œLike a sanctuary.ā€
Anakin smiles, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. ā€œI wanted to share it with you. A place thatā€™s ours alone.ā€
You turn in his embrace, your eyes meeting his. ā€œThank you,ā€ you say, your voice thick with emotion. ā€œIt means more than you know.ā€
For a moment, you simply stand there, holding each other, surrounded by the silent witnesses of a bygone era. Then, with a gentle tug, Anakin leads you to a small nook filled with cushions. You sit down together, and he pulls you into his lap, his lips finding yours once more.
He breaks the kiss and smiles up at you, taking in every curve of your body, his hands brushing along your thighs as he drinks in the sight of you.
ā€œYou're so beautiful... even more so up close.ā€ he whisperĀ 
He reaches up, his hand cradling your cheek as he kisses you again. As the kiss deepens, he pulls you closer, his hand sliding lower along the curve of your waist. His touch is gentle at first, but as his passion grows, he holds you tighter against him.
Anakin's tongue explores your mouth as his hands roam over your body, tracing the curves of your hips. His touch is electric, sending shivers down your spine as it ignites the fire burning within you.
You moan softly into his mouth as you feel his fingers brush across your skin, their touch leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. Your hands explore his back, feeling every muscle as they clench and relax beneath your fingertips.
Anakin breaks away from you briefly, trailing kisses down your neck and collarbone. His teeth graze against your skin, causing goosebumps to rise in their wake.
ā€œAni... what are we doing...?ā€ You breathe, biting your lip as his lips find a sensitive spot on your neck.
Anakin chuckles, his breath warm against your skin as he leaves a trail of kisses along your jaw.
"I think you know, love.." He murmurs, his hand slipping under your chin to tilt your head back and expose your neck to him.
ā€œI want you,ā€ he whispers in your ear, his voice low and husky.
His words send shivers down your spine, and you can't help but arch your back, pressing yourself closer to him. Your body aches for his touch, but youā€™re thankful that he canā€™t see the way you clench your eyes closed.Ā 
Regardless, he can sense you tightening your grip on the back of his head. As you shift up against his thigh, the heat from your underwear burns against him.
He is aware that you are hesitant.
ā€œIt can be like i told you last time.ā€ He stutters, licks his lips, and struggles to get the words out of his throat.
ā€œJust- sit on it.ā€ he managed to say. ā€œIf you donā€™t want to move itā€™s alright love, just wanna be inside you.ā€Ā 
He buries his head into the crook of your neck and kiss it carefully to not leave any marks.
ā€œAnakin..ā€ You whisper softly as you struggle not to close your eyes to his touch.
He pulls away from your neck and looks up at you.
ā€œWhat? Are you afraid?ā€Ā 
Your eyes roll slightly ā€œNo iā€™m not afraid.ā€
A slight smile appears at the corner of his lips. ā€œThen what is it?ā€
You squint at his attitude. ā€œNothing. I- I just wonā€™t move.ā€
He nods and slowly kisses your neck, his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck. ā€œAlright, love.ā€
You shift back so he can pull his trousers down to his knees, and you take his cock in your hand, feeling him melting at your simple touch.
ā€œLove,ā€ he whispers, his voice deep and rough. ā€œI want to be inside you. Now.ā€Ā 
You feel a surge of heat between your legs, and you can't help but moan in response. You've never felt so aroused, so completely lost in the moment.
You push your underwear to the side, and you lift yourself to sink onto him as Anakin breathes ā€œTake it easy love, don't want you to hurt yourself.ā€
You halt. To avoid pushing him inside of you all at once and hurting yourself, you grip his shoulder to steady yourself.
You push against him once more, and the tip of his cock nudges between your folds, forcing an ache to shoot through your clit and make you dizzy. You pause as a slow burn builds in your thighs, you clench down in an effort to relieve the pain.
ā€œFuck,ā€ Anakin grunts as he wraps his arm around the back of your hips, ā€œLemme,ā€ he mumbles, and he flexes gently his hips up, slowly feeding his cock into your soaked core and kiss your neck again to distract you from the potential pain. Ā 
You're gasping for air, you moan softly in pleasure, the heat of his mouth on your skin igniting the fire within you. You've never felt anything like this before, and you never want it to end.
When you finally sink to the depths, the pair of you moan out loudly in unison.
Anakin buries his face in your neck, ā€œNow, donā€™t move. Just donā€™t move.ā€ He grunts once again.
You nod a little too vigorously, which creates a slight movement in your hips, and because of that you feel Anakin pulse from inside of you.
he manage laughs falsely and grips your hips more firmly ā€œWhat did i say?ā€
ā€œS- Sorryā€ You whisper as you feel his wet lips brush against your breasts which makes you throw your head back.
ā€œIf you move again,ā€ Anakin begins to say, panting, ā€œI'll leave the Jedi order and do what I should have done a long time ago.ā€
Anakin always wanted to fuck you properly and it drove him crazy not to be able to do it.
ā€œD - Donā€™t try to tempt me, Anakinā€ You managed to say, saying in your head to yourself,Ā Ā 
Donā€™t even move.
But Anakin brings you out of your thoughts by licking gently your neck, making you clench around him, causing him to groan deep against your neck.
ā€œI'm warning you, this is the last time.ā€ He says, gritting his teeth and gripping your hips even more firmly, but not enough to hurt.Ā 
ā€œItā€™s all your fault this timeā€ You whimper as you tighten your grip on his shoulders.Ā 
ā€œJust stay still,ā€ He said firmly, concentrating on not moving and coming inside you.
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rogueddie Ā· 10 months ago
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Hair Care T | 1,749 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is what makes you brave
Steve learnt early on that if he makes his hair all soft, fluffy and big, then girls would play with his hair. He's always loved having people touching his hair.
But after the Demogorgon, after he gets his act together? Suddenly, no one wants to touch his hair. No one comments on it, or even looks at it like they're so much as thinking about it.
And it is driving Steve insane.
"I can't just ask for it!" He complains. "That's weird and- and what if they take it the wrong way? What if I sound too weird or desperate?"
"I'm the wrong person for the weird complaint," Eddie points out. "And I still don't get the problem. What about Robin?"
Robin is convinced that all his little lines, trying to encourage attention towards his hair as subtly as he can, are all pick-up lines.
To be fair to her, she has only ever seen him using said lines when he's flirting. But they're supposed to be little hints, a nudge and a wink. Friendly- playful even.
But, because of that, he has a nasty feeling that she would take any hint or request about his hair as romantic. And the last thing Steve wants to do is make Robin uncomfortable.
"Ok, yeah, I see the problem there," Eddie hums, considering. "What about the kids? El and Max. They adore you and love playing with each others hair."
El had asked to play with his hair once.
She'd heard, somehow, that his hair is 'famous' in Hawkins and had wanted to see why. She encouraged Max to join her, even though she mostly ended up petting him like a dog.
Max had seemed to enjoy it more than El, but not by much, and the snickers from the other kids had been enough for him to refuse to let them "go again".
He's the babysitter, he needs at least some dignity.
"But did you like it?" Eddie presses.
"Well, yeah," Steve mumbles, snuffing his slipper on the carpet. "It was nice or whatever. Not worth the jabs though."
"Why not?"
"I don't know. Didn't feel worth it."
"Hmm..." Eddie pauses again, frowning as he looks him over. "Well... what was it specifically about what they did that was so nice? Has anyone else done that for you?"
Tommy used to play with his hair constantly. He was a quick learner and, with how much Carol visibly and vocally enjoyed watching them, there wasn't any shame.
They both seemed to enjoy themselves more whenever they could convince Steve to sit on the floor, so Tommy could scratch at his head more effectively.
"Which..." Steve pauses, frowning. "In retrospect was probably some weird power play thing. Like, I was the king at school but a dog at home."
"Yikes."
"Yeah."
But they knew exactly what he liked and they were good at it.
Tommy knew that he loves the back of his ears scratched, likes the small strands at his neck tugged. He knew that Steve loved the feeling of fingers brushing his fringe back, especially when he'd get rough and push his head back a little with the motion.
They knew what he needed.
"Well... I could do that," Eddie suggests. "I mean... if you want. It's not like it would be a hardship."
"Really? You wouldn't be uncomfortable?"
"Not at all. As long as you're ok with it, it's all good."
"That- yeah. Yeah, I'm on with that."
That's how it starts.
Steve had sat on the floor, in front of the sofa where Eddie was sat. It reminded him of Tommy for a moment, but Eddie quickly brought him back to the moment with a hand on his shoulder.
"This alright for you?" He asked, squeezing gently when Steve nodded. "Alright. Just let me know if it's bad, too much or you want to stop."
"Okay."
He had thought that would be it, though. Moments when they hung out in private, a thing for them that no one else was allowed in on.
But Eddie starts playing with his hair. All the time.
If he can find an excuse, he abuses it. Even in Family Video, busy with people and customers lining up in front of Robin, right next to them. Eddie just... leans forward, reaches out and pushes his hair back.
He does it so casual, so out in the open, that- somehow- Robin is the only one who gives them a strange look.
On movie nights, he's started putting a pillow down on the floor between his feet. When Steve comes in with popcorn, Eddie gives it a pointed look and raises an eyebrow at him.
It's so much, so often. Steve loves it, has never been so happy for so long. It leaves him feeling high sometimes.
All good things, for him, come to an end though. And his comes in the form of Robin Buckley.
"I'm not saying I have a problem with any of it!" She clarifies, right off the bat. "If it's just a friendship thing, that's amazing. I love how happy you are, really, and I don't want that to go away, and I know-"
"Robs," Steve interrupts. "Slow down. I don't know what you're trying to say."
She stood, staring at him for a moment, seeming to vibrate with her need to speak, before finally blurting out-
"Are you and Eddie dating?"
"Wh- what? No, that's... no. Why do you, uhm, think that?"
"Steve," she whines. "I know about your hair lines, remember? One of them must have worked with how addicted he's got to yours."
"Oh, that... no, that's not what's happened. Those aren't lines, I just... I really like people playing with my hair."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
"Wait, that still sounds suspicious. He plays with your hair all the time because he knows how much you like it?"
"No one else was going to."
"Oh my god," she rolls her eyes, stepping closer so she lightly tug at his hair. "I would have been doing this all the time if I knew it was ok!"
"Oh, uh, sorry?"
"No apologies, just tell me when you started crushing on Munson."
"How-?"
"I know you, dingus. Apparently not as well as I had hoped I did, but I do. And you're gone on him. When. Did it start?"
The first time Steve realized that he was feeling more than 'friendship feelings' for Eddie was when he was eating at his new trailer.
Wayne had come home early and was surprised to see that Eddie had a guest over.
But Eddie was too busy jumping up, excited to introduce them, to notice.
"Wayne! This is Steve, I've told you about Steve, he's great," Eddie said. "Steve, this is my uncle, Wayne. He's amazing, don't worry, he doesn't bite."
Steve had quickly stood extending an arm, and introduced him properly. He made sure to add a quick 'sir' at the end.
Wayne had quickly dismissed the title, turning to Eddie with a fond look, and said, "what was it you called him? Pr-"
"Shut up," Eddie was fast to interrupt, hands waving around.
And Steve realized that he was feeling hope. He was filled with hope that Eddie had said what his uncle seemed to about to say.
He realized that he wanted Eddie to think of him as pretty. He wanted Eddie to find him so pretty that he told his uncle.
It was a warm feeling, fluttering through his stomach- a feeling that he is all too familiar with.
"I'm gagging," Robin says, monotone. "But that does help."
"Help? How?"
"Uh, because he's obviously into you too!"
"Robs, I don't know..."
"Come on, it'll be easy. He already likes you, so you don't have to try so hard. Just a little thing that lets him know you like him. One of your moves-"
"No, Robs... I'm sure that he likes me too, at least a little, that's not the problem."
"What is them?"
"I... I've never, like... been with a guy. What if I do it wrong?"
"Steve," Robin grabs both of his shoulders. "He likes you. All you have to be is yourself."
"I don't know if I c-"
"You can, and you will. We'll think of a plan that cannot fail, you'll put on your brave pants, and we'll kick this problems ass."
"My brave pants? It's brave face."
"No, I mean those pants that you're always saying make your ass look good. Those are your brave pants."
"... Ok, yeah, they are."
It doesn't take them long to settle in a plan. It's simple, easy. It shouldn't give Steve enough time to doubt himself.
Eddie arrives on time, knocking on the door at the exact time it turns four p.m.
"Hi!" Steve greets, wincing at how overenthusiastic he is. "Come in."
"You alright?"
"Yeah, fine, just... slow day. Too much energy. Come on, I made too much food earlier if you want some."
"You know I'll never turn down free food, Stevie."
Over dinner, Steve starts to finally relax. Eddie is, as always, easy to talk too.
When they step into the living room, Steve snatches the pillow off Eddie before he can put it on the floor and places it in Eddies lap instead.
"Oh, uh," Eddie stutters, eyebrows high, staring down at Steve who did not hesitate to rest his head on the pillow in his lap. "You- yeah?"
"Yeah," Steve agrees. "You alright with this?"
"Yes- yeah, this- of course."
"Great!"
Steve stretches to the coffee table, handing Eddie the remote.
He doesn't pay attention to whatever Eddie puts on though. He can't stop thinking about how he's laying, how Eddie's hand feels so much more gentle in his hair.
Eventually, he turns so he's on his back. He catches Eddie's hand before he can pull away, waiting until Eddie looks him in the eye before pulling his hand close enough to kiss his palm.
But, instead of surprise, Eddie sighs. His shoulders drop, smiling wide- relieved.
"You're so pretty," Steve says, pushing through the confusion he feels at Eddies reaction. "And I, uh... I really like you, Ed."
"Yeah?" Eddies eyes scrunch with how wide his smile is, shifting his hand out of Steves hold so he can brush the back of his knuckles along his cheek. "Little ol' me?"
"Yeah. I'm- I mean, you're funny and you care... you're just... it's too soon to say love, I know, but-"
"I love you too."
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