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#im starting to get very overwhelmed x-x
steel-and-fire · 6 months
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fayes-fics · 1 year
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Second Son
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
Summary: The second son is, for once, the first choice...
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Warnings: none really... mild angst, family dynamics, love at first sight.
Word Count: 2.9k
Authors Note: Request fill for anon here, about Benedict being the second choice for everything.... until his love turns up. Thanks for this request; I hope this is angsty enough for you anon. Im not sure about it tbh. Sorry that it's taken more than three months to get to it on my WIP list. Unbetaed. Enjoy <3
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Benedict Bridgerton was born into privilege and can have few complaints. Except perhaps that he is always second. The spare. The just-in-case option. Being a familial insurance policy lends one more freedom than the burden of being the titled first son, perhaps, but it also feels like your whole existence, in some respects, can seem like a contingency plan.
____
His stomach swoops with excitement as the arrow pierces the target dead on the bullseye. And on his first ever archery lesson, just after his twelfth birthday.
He turns around to see if anyone is there to witness his triumph, but it goes unmarked. All his young siblings gathered around Anthony, patting him on the back for his achievements in doing the same moments before. Being a good shot is an essential skill for the next Viscount indeed. The fact that he has been receiving instruction for months already and this is Benedict’s first lesson hurts a little.
But he doesn't bother to bring attention to his arguably more impressive feat. It seems pointless now. Wordlessly he shrugs and walks towards the target, plucking out his arrow and starting again. Perhaps next time, they will notice.
____
“Is that the new Viscount Bridgerton?” Benedict hears a young girl murmur as he sweeps into the first societal event of the season, the spring following his father's death. 
“Oh no, my dear, sadly not; I believe that is one of the brothers,” her mother replies, acting as if he has no sense of hearing, even trying to ignore it as he is, surveying the crowd.
“Such a shame,” the young girl huffs, “he is so very handsome.”
“Yes, dear, but sadly not titled. We can do better,” her mother chides, moving them along out of earshot.
He will never get over how cutthroat the Ton can be, a part of his tender seventeen-year-old heart sinking. Not that he had a potential interest in that girl, more the principle that he will somehow be rendered as an also-ran, at best a consolation prize, for the rest of his life.
What is most galling, perhaps, is that, when his mother needs their presence the most on a night like tonight, the new VIscount is nowhere to be seen. Has not even bothered to show his face, running off to some spurious gambling den and brothel, spending the night indulging himself rather than facing society. 
So here Benedict is, stepping up to play the dutiful son that his elder brother should be. Being the support their mother so desperately needs at her first event as a widow, her arm looped heavily through his, her whole bodyweight seeming to use him as her literal pillar of support. As he escorts her around the room, he is filled with admiration at her brave face. He can see the overwhelming sadness in her eyes every time the word dowager is invoked, and his heart cracks a little at the loneliness he can feel emanating from his mother’s very soul. 
“Tis a shame the Viscount did not deign the first event of the season worthy of his patronage,” she states pointedly as she sips champagne.
“I am sure he has very good reasons for his absence,” Benedict replies soothingly, covering for his errant brother, attempting to shield their mother from the truth of his philandering ways. Benedict knows it is Anthony’s way of dealing with the responsibility of the title of Viscount being thrust upon him so young. But sometimes, just sometimes, Benedict wishes he could escape his grief in such a manner, Anthony taking his turn attending a stuffy ball and playing guardian to a grieving woman. Their burdens may be different, but the wish to escape them is often not, Benedict realises.
____
She catches his eye at a garden party at Aubrey Hall. She is a pretty young lady, maybe eighteen to his twenty-three, with bright eyes and a sweet, happy face. She makes his palms slightly sweaty. He watches her from a distance, uncertain how to approach or what to say, feeling a little tongue-tied, even. 
Just then, Anthony materialises at his shoulder.
“Who is that pretty young thing?” Anthony asks, tracing Benedict’s line of sight.
“Miss Bradstreet,” he replies, watching as she turns to face the sun, closing her eyes, basking in its warmth. The light captures her cheekbones perfectly, and he itches to have his sketchbook and capture her likeness. He would very much like to get to know her better.
“Let's go provide a warm welcome,” Anthony smirks, clapping a hand on Benedict’s shoulder and practically dragging him across the lawn.
Benedict reluctantly follows, a flutter of excitement as her eyes land upon them as they approach. 
“Miss Bradstreet,” Anthony swaggers. “Viscount Bridgerton at your service; I am so very pleased to be your host today,” he bows.
Benedict's stomach plunges as he watches her practically melt into the lawn right there, virtually swooning at Anthony’s feet.
“Oh, and this is my brother, Benedict,” Anthony adds, almost as an afterthought. 
She flicks her head to the side briefly to politely acknowledge Benedict before returning to Anthony. All of her undivided adoring attention on him as he regales the story of his latest hunting triumphs upon her insistence. Benedict heaves a sigh and watches as yet another young lady he likes chooses his brother over him. He is almost used to it now, but it doesn't stop the sting every time.
____
Your world grinds to a halt as you see him. He is descending the stairs with what you assume is the rest of his family. He is very much in the middle of a tight circle, walking behind what appears to be his mother and perhaps older brother. Quite the most beautiful man you have ever seen, your heart pounding in your ears, your throat suddenly dry despite the lemonade in your hand. You assume they must be the hosts, seeing as they are the very last to enter the ballroom here at Bridgerton House, and there is no announcement of their name.
“Who is that?” you whisper, leaning towards your elder sister. She has been out among society for a year and knows the Ton better than you.
“That is the Bridgerton family, of course,” she replies. “Illustrious in the extreme. Our hosts for this evening. The Viscount there is the most eligible bachelor of every season… and every season, he has resisted a match. So I wouldn't bother if I were you,” she sniffs.
“Which is the Viscount?” you check, your eyes unable to leave the beautiful man with a cravat tied in the most unconventional fashion.
“The one with his arm looped with their mother, the dowager Viscountess, naturally,” your sister rolls her eyes as if patently obvious.
“And what of the others?” you inquire keenly, realising the man you admire cannot be the one your sister is referring to. “Do you know their names?”
“I do not,” she admits, “such things are not really important when one is looking for a titled husband,” she points out airily. 
You nod, knowing the responsibility your sister must carry as firstborn to find a suitable match that can provide for your widowed mother and, indeed, perhaps yourself and your younger sister should neither of you be able to find a husband. You don’t envy her position one little bit. 
You are, however, desperate to get closer to the most beautiful man you have ever seen. And so you spend your evening working towards them, in as polite of a fashion as you can, your stomach in knots of excitement to know him.
“Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton, it is an honour and a pleasure to meet you,” you curtsy, heart pounding as he now stands a few feet away, unable to look at him so close by.
“Hello, my dear and you are?” she asks politely.
“Miss y/n y/l/n, it is my very first season; I am so honoured to be here,” you explain. “I must provide the apologies of my mother, Mrs y/l/n, who could not attend tonight due to a cold, but she is so very thankful for the invitation.”
“Oh, of course,” the viscountess smiles. “I am so sorry to hear of her illness; please pass on my best regards… Anthony!” she turns to her side to grab the attention of a man. The viscount’s head whips around from where he is in discussion with another. “Come meet Miss y/l/n,” she needles pointedly. “Miss y/l/n, this is the Viscount Anthony Brdgerton, and he is so pleased not only to make your acquaintance but also for your presence here tonight,” she welcomes on his behalf, and you do not miss the subtle nudge in the ribs she gives him.
Then his regard is drawn to you. He is handsome certainly, and you appreciate his polite but absent-minded greeting. His attentions are obviously elsewhere, but then you cannot fault him as yours are the same. Your gaze strays over his shoulder to the man who first captures your attention. And your breath is stolen by how his hazy blue eyes stare intently at you.
____
Benedict is twenty-six years old when he is struck by lightning. Not literally. But that is the sensation that runs through his body when he first lays eyes on you—politely introducing yourself to his mother and thanking her for your invitation to this ball. 
He thought he knew what attraction was until this point. He thought he knew the depths to which one could fall in love in an instant. He was an utter fool. He looks at you, and at once, everything is so quiet and loud all at once. He is desperate to know you in a way he has never felt. To grab your hand, take you somewhere, and ask you a million questions to get to know your soul. He also wants to kiss you so much that his lips tingle. And inside, his lungs want to scream as his mother does the natural thing and introduces the beautiful, polite young lady to her most eligible son… Anthony. 
Then his heart jolts as your eyes stray from Anthony and meets his, your pupils dilating in a way that makes his lungs too small to inhale air. It is the first and only time a young woman has had Anthony’s full attention and has looked away from it. And to him, no less. The tidal flood of chemicals in his system makes it feel like he is vibrating in his very shoes.
____
You try your best to be polite and look at Anthony as he speaks, but your sight is drawn to this other man like a moth to a flame. From appearance, the second son, as you are the second daughter. A flare of understanding and sympathy in your chest as to how that is. You want to grab his hand and run away with him.
“My lord,” you find your voice and snap your eyes back to the Viscount, “would you do me the honour of introducing me to the rest of your wonderful family?” your ask, almost timid.
He looks temporarily taken aback, as if mystified why anyone in the Ton would care about the status of anyone beyond his mother and himself. You smile at him expectantly and do not miss, from the corner of your eye, how the beautiful man’s face is awash with surprise at your request.
“Oh, most certainly,” Anthony seems to snap out of his temporary stupor and turns to introduce his siblings in attendance. A tall, baby-faced young man stands to attention as Anthony moves from left to right. “This is Colin; he has just returned from his travels in Greece,” you nod and smile politely, knowing nothing of the subject. “And this is my sister, Eloise; it is her first season, and she is not in the slightest bit happy about that,” he adds dryly, and you can't help but giggle and feel a kinship with the spirited young lady who returns your wry smile. “My eldest sister, the Duchess of Hastings, who is visiting us,”
You curtsy and bow your head. “It is an honour, your Grace,” you add, and she smiles sweetly at you, her arm looped in her mother's.
“Obviously, you have met my mother,” he continues, and suddenly he is the last in the line. You feel your palms clench, sweaty in anticipation of learning his name “... and this is my brother, Benedict; he hopes to be an artist.”
You are finally brave enough to meet his eyes again. He is so achingly beautiful that the rest of his family, indeed the whole ballroom, melt away from your view—he is all you can see.
“Oh, I adore art,” you stutter, mesmerised, offering your hand to him, the first and only person in the family you do so to. Unseen by you, your gaze only on one man, Anthony’s mouth drops open in surprise.
Nothing can prepare you for when Benedict’s gloved hand gently touches yours, him bowing to kiss the back of your hand. You catch a woody citrus scent that makes your mouth water as he does so. And then you feel the warmth of his lips through your glove, and you are utterly undone.
“Miss y/l/n,” he rumbles quietly, the sound making your insides melt even more; it's deep and resonant and makes every inch of your body tingle.
“Please call me y/n,” you murmur, moving closer, knowing how scandalous that might be, but seemingly unable to stop yourself. He has a hypnotic hold over you that you don't want to fight.
“Only if you shall call me Benedict,” he breathes, and it takes Anthony clearing his throat to make you spring apart, suddenly remembering where you are.
____
His lips touch the silk of your glove, and he is gone. 
Already planning a future, his mind supplying images of you at his cottage out in the country, the lady of the house. Tending to the herb garden, reading happily curled up in front of the fire in the drawing room, fearlessly plucking a bow as you stand in front of joint archery targets gently teasing him for losing to a girl, and finally, the image that truly knocks the wind out of him, you naked under him, desperately moaning his name as you move together, entwined in ecstasy.
He hears your sharp inhale, and his heart skips at the idea you feel it too. That you are the first woman ever that sees him and not Anthony. Really sees him. Not as the second son. Not as a consolation prize. 
And when your body seems to sway towards him, he is already mentally asking his mother for a betrothal ring from her grandmother, which she said she is keeping just for him.
____
“Benedict,” his name feels wonderful in your mouth, like a gift from the heavens. “Please, may we take a turn around the gardens?” you implore, the boldest you have ever been in your whole life. 
“It would be my very greatest pleasure,” he responds.
And you know with absolute certainty you have met your husband, the father of your children, your very future. 
____
“It is not as if this is my show….” he sighs.
“You should not do that, darling,” you say affectionately, ruffling his hair as you move to fix his cravat; it definitely needs to be more jaunty, in your opinion.
“Do what?” he breathes, his wedding ring catching the light as he places his hands gently over yours and stills your motions.
“Think of yourself as second,” you argue, running your hand over his cheek. “This gallery opening may feature others' work too, but you are the star of the exhibit,” you reassure, tilting his forehead down so it rests upon yours.
There it is again. That look that always floors you. Even now, a year later. Like you are the most wondrous creature, and he can scarcely believe you are his.
“Never forget, you will always be first to me,” you utter fiercely, watching his eyes soften with devotion. “And not just me….” you guide his sizeable warm hand onto the swell of your belly, “to us. We love you so much, Benedict,” your tone is ardent, wanting him to believe he deserves this recognition, that he should believe in himself the way that you do.
“I love you, too,” he responds quietly, reverentially. “So very much. Both of you are my whole world,” his voice choked with emotion, and you throw your arms around him and squeeze hard, wanting to telegraph just how much he is the very centre of your universe.
An hour later, you clutch your hands over your chest as you watch him being brought onto the raised stage and introduced to the crowd as they applaud him and his work rapturously, awaiting to hear him talk of his art. As he does so, you stroke your belly unseen under your cloak, beaming with pride for your wonderful husband.
____
He sees your face in the crowd, and as ever, it calms him, especially at this landmark moment. So as he finishes the speech that he has rehearsed for days now, he decides to do something perhaps unconventional but something he seems unable to resist.
“Lastly, before I allow you back to your champagne,” he jests, finally at ease with the attention and recognition. “I want to thank my life’s inspiration, the very reason I stand before you today. My wonderful wife. Thank you, my love, for being the light of my life; for always making this second son your first choice. You will always, always be my first choice. I love you.” 
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Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @mlovesbridgerton @m-rae23 @last-sheep
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ang3l0fthursday · 3 months
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“Jus’ Wanna Feel You”
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Matt sturniolo x fem!reader
summary: reader has a rough day and just wants her boyfriend, matt, who also really wants his girlfriend.
warnings: cockwarming | VERY SLIGHT angst(matt has some insecurities) | p in v | sub! matt x softdom!reader| i think that’s it
UNEDITED😖
word count: 1.5k
matt is blue
reader is pink
i stumbled through the front door of Matt and his brothers home, putting my keys on the row of hooks, and throwing my shoes off onto the ground next to the door.
i fumbled my way up the stairs, which seemed endless at the time. i had such a rough day, my feet hurt from walking, and everyone i talked to had a stick so far up their ass it was peaking out of their mouths.
i just needed matt. he would make everything better. everything.
i made my way to his bedroom door, slipping in as quiet as possibly when i noticed he was at his desk with his headphones on.
i set my bag behind the door and made my way to my side of the bed. i took of all my rings and bracelets, and then taking off my necklace, before placing them all on the bedside table
i threw off my sweatshirt and finally, i could go to matt.
i shuffled my way to his chair
“matt”
“huh? oh hello sweetheart i didn’t see you come in”
“are you streaming”
“no baby i’m not”
“can anybody see or hear you right now”
“no” he giggled at my assortment of questions
i stumbled into his arms and onto his lap, placing my head in the crook of his neck
“rough day baby?”
i let out a soft “uh huh” before closing me eyes and nuzzling further into his embrace
“jus’ need a minute”
“of course mama whatever you need”
i shuffled my hips and adjusted my legs to be the most comfortable i could be
matt lett out a low noise. i couldn’t really make it out from the way my ear was pressed to his neck
i sat up straight to analyze matt’s soft features and try and figure out what had happened
“what was that?” i asked curiously
“nothing m’ sorry! i didn’t mean to i just got overwhelmed from the way you moved im so sorry-“
“what are you- oh.” i looked down and saw his hardened cock. “oh baby you’re alright i know you can’t help it sometimes baby”
“i know but m’ so sorry, you had a rough day and i know you don’t wanna do anything like that right now baby”
“baby calm down, can you do that for me?”
he shyly nodded his head, his cheeks flushed and his hair slightly fell in front of his face, untucking from the band of his headphones
“good boy” i said lowly into his ear, kissing his jaw and leaning up to him
he bucked his hips slightly
“wanna make you feel good mama”
i giggled, “you just wanna get off”
“nuhuh, making you feel good makes me feel good”
“you mean it?”
“i’ve never meant anything more in my life”
“cornball” i snickered and kissed his blush-adorned nose
suddenly his face fell, “don’t start” he paused to poke my ribs “YOU made me like this”
he continued to jab my sides and i couldn’t stop giggling at the way it tickled my ribs.
“i didn’t MAKE you do anything”
he kept doing this and i couldn’t help but get frustrated, ofcourse i love his playfulness but it’s natural girl instinct to get scared from tickling. right?
i quickly grabbing both his hands and pinned them to the sides of his chair, next to his head.
his cheeks quickly flushed, saddening his already beautiful face. more hair had fallen into his face from our small play-fight and his breath had quickened.
what a sight.
“you’re so pretty baby you know that?”
“th-thank you mama” his eyelashes fluttered slightly as i slowly moved my hips along his length
“f-fuck..” his breath slowly sped up and his jaw hung lowly
“what if we just put it in and not move?”
“like- like cockwarming?”
“yes baby exactly like”
“okay mama”
he leaned forward and placed a soft b out meaningful kiss on my lips
i moved off of him and took off both my pants and my panties before making my way to the bed and grabbing a blanket
“what’re you doing ma?”
“i don’t want my ass too be out it’s too cold for that”
we both giggled before i made my way back over to matt
“come here baby” my hands made their way to the waistband of his dark grey sweatpants. my fingers slipped under both his pants and boxers waistband and i slowly brought them both down his legs. i met his gaze and smirked slightly to show i was teasing him.
“please mama i need you… jus’ wanna feel you”
“i’m coming baby” i finally pulled his pants and boxers off of his ankles and stood up, before making my way back onto his lap, wrapping his blanket acrossed my back.
with matt’s video game long forgotten, his controller having fell on the floor, i slowly hovered my way above him.
“you ready baby?”
“fuck- yes ma please”
i grabbed his cock and guided to my entrance before slowly sliding down onto his length. i made my way down slowly, inch by inch taking him in, holding matt’s flustered gaze.
when i finally bottomed out i shuffled on habit, causing matt to let out a loud, low whimper, his hands flying to hold onto my waist.
“fuck sorry baby i forgot”
i peppered kisses acrossed his forehead, waiting for his breathing to calm down
“mama-“ his gaze was on the floor, and as he started to speaking my hand went up to his face, landing on his cheek. his nuzzles his way into my hand. “m’ sorry for being so sensitive mama.” he looks up at me through his pretty lashes as he almost seemed to break down.
“oh sweet boy don’t be sorry for that, you and i both know you can’t help that. and it doesn’t bother me.”
his soft blue eyes never left mine before he spoke again, “you promise?”
“i promise sweet boy”
“oh and i’m also sorry for having you comfort me when you had a bad-“
“baby you have got to calm down okay? you’re okay i promise”
“i love you” i had never heard him say something so sincere before, it made my heart flutter and i immediately kissed him.
“i love you so much matty”
“how about i just-“ i swiveled my hips forward
“fuck- are you sure?”
“i’m sure matty”
i sped up my hips against his, quickly feeling the effect of my movements, and from the sounds matt was letting out, he was too.
“mmm- fuck you made me feel so good” he bucked his hips up before looks to me for approval.
“do whatever you think is best matty”
as soon as i finished my sentence, his hands made their way back to my hips before quickly thrusting up once more. his hands guided my hips in a gear-shift motion against his own. me made me feel euphoric.
his hands dug into the soft flesh of my thighs before he threw his head back, knitting his eyebrows and dropping his jaw and i took this as a sign to move my hips instead of letting him do it.
matt started shamefully letting out moans and whimpers as i brought my hips down onto his.
i decided to switch it up. i normally slide my hips back and forth, going the ready route, but god i knew that it would feel better if i properly rode him.
i put my hands on his shoulders before bringing my self up, almost completely off of his length.
he looked at me in confusion, before i quickly slammed back down onto his length. his face immediately switched into one of pleasure.
his jaw going slack.
his eyebrows knitting.
and his eyes fluttering shut.
god how i loved him.
i quickly repeated my actions of bouncing acrossed his length
“fuck- if you keep that up i’m gonna cum”
“well that’s kinda the whole point matty”
“no i know but- but i want you to- shit - feel good too ma”
“i know you do baby but im almost there too okay?”
a specific movement of my hips cut off his “okay” as i sped up my movements.
“holy shit i’m so close mama”
i let out a quiet moan, before throwing my own head back and leaning back to rest my hands on his knees
“ohhh shit matt oh my god”
he let out quiet whimpers. almost like a silent praise at the way i made him feel
“fuck fuck fuck i’m so close- mama please”
i leant forward and grabbed the sides of his face. i brought his forehead to mine, “fuck cum with my matty”
his hands made their way to my wrist as he closed his eyes and i felt his breath against mine as he quickly flung his hips up into mine.
his movements sent me over the edge. my core felt so tight as i came unraveled on his cock.
as i came undone on his cock, clenching tight on him, matt let out an extra loud moan, followed by quiet whimpers as i felt him cum inside me, costing my silky walls.
“fuck fuck fuck” he whispered into the close proximity we shared.
i slowly brought down my movements, hearing matt’s breath slow with mine.
“you make me feel so good mama”
“i try” i smile sarcastically
i try to pull off, before being stopped
“can we cockwarm- like for real this time?”
“okay baby” i giggle as i kiss his lips one last time.
—————
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bad idea, right? // theodore nott x fem reader
part 2 for but daddy i love him!
playlist: bad idea right? - olivia rodrigo
"im sure ive seen much hotter men but i really cant remember when!"
summary: you agreed to go out with theodore nott and you did infact go on a date with him! however ever since your date with him youve been doubting your judgement.
y/n used , part 2 , gryffindor granger reader , swearing , mention of dr*gs and alcohol , not proof read
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its been a week since theodore nott confronted you in that classroom. and its been a day since the date you went on with him. it was nothing too special ,just coffee in hogsmeade and overall it was great!!...except from when some guy in slytherin came over asking if theo wanted his 'weekly supply of the good stuff'.
you had almost gagged on the spot. being a muggleborn , throughout all of your muggle education you were preached about the evil of drugs. so when theodore smirked and whispered something to the guy before showing him off.....you got the ick.
and its been 24 hours since then, and youre going crazy about it.
"girls , i cant condone drug use!! that shit is fucked up!" you screeched as you paced a hole into the carpet of your shared dorm.
lavender , parvati and hermione all stared at you with concern , having listened to you panic and rant for the past half an hour.
"y/n we know! but i mean you cant even know that it was what youre thinking! cmon you were the one that protected his character like he was a saint a few days ago!!" hermione argued back, trying to calm you.
"before , i knew he was doing drugs!! WEEKLY!" you cried , collapsing onto your bed as the three girls stood up and surrounded you.
"i mean...whats so bad about that?....the gryffindor guys do it at parties all the time-" lavender started before parvati threw her a harsh glare , making her stop her scentence.
"its more about that its making me question if i really know him well enough to commit to dating him!" you groaned , face down into your pillow.
"y/n i think youre being dramatic! you like him too much and now youre scared. its okay lots of people get like that dont worry!" hermione sympathised.
you paused at this , eyes widenening at the thought that this was likely very true. you did like theodore. a lot. maybe more than you found comfortable. and now you were finding a way to shut out the overwhelming feelings.
at this epiphany you sat up , eyes wide and mouth dropped open.
"youre right mione. i think im gonna take a small distance from him and...firgure it out!.... yeah... figure it out.." you mumbled quietly as you got up from your bed , your friends staring at you wearily , "i mean theres always hotter guys out there and it was always a bad idea...right?".
you looked at your friends with red cheeks and a hesitant expression , they stared back as you took slow steps towards the door before bolting out of it , running down the stairs before they can stop you.
"y/n-!" parvati shouted trying to stop you before the girls stood in stunned silence , "ive never seen someone change mood and mind so quickly..."
"shes going to avoid him , isnt she?" lavander said knowingly as the other two girls noddly grimly.
"yeah...she definetly is." hermione sighed.
----
and that you did! youve been avoiding theodore nott like the plague for three whole days and it was driving everyone around you insane.
ron. he had been walking with you in the corridors , slowly commuting to potions when you eyes spotted something in the distance with great suprise and terror. the next second you sprinted the way you and ron had come from. leaving ron extremely confused and left to walk to potions alone , and getting points taken off by snape when he was the only late person.
harry. you swore that you would watch him practice quidditch and give him pointers on how to improve his technique - you were the old gryffindor seaker before you quick months after joining. but after finding out slytherin and gryffindor were sharing the pitch that day , you never bothered to show up. harry was mad at you for days , knowing the reason was your avoidance of theodore. yet you denied it and said you were ill.
hermione. you were studying with hermione in the library , both of you equally focused on the task at hand , until you perked up at the sound of a deep familiar voice walking towards you and hermiones area of the library. you gasped in suprise before ducking under the table , spilling a pot of ink in the process all over hermione pages. she gasped also , but in pure horror , and thankfully was able to cast a spell to clean the ink before being distracted by someone standing infront of the table you were studying on.
theodore. if anyone could be described as going insane at your constant avoidance , it was theo himself. he had been practically ripping his hair out everytime you avoided his eyes , or walked in the opposite direction when he approached. of course he had noticed , there wasnt a single moment he didnt notice you. and every time you left or ran away , he became more and more desperate.
so now he stands infront of you sister in the library , fist clenched in the deep desperation to see you; to know what he did wrong.
"where is she granger." he said through gritted teeth.
"nott , im actually quite busy cleaning the ink off me , so a little more context to who 'she' is would be great in this moment!" hermione argued in a annoyed tone as the smoothed down her recovering parchment.
"y/n!" theodore replied in more of a shout , making hermione jump and loud hushes echo through the library in response.
"oh!...oh...shes right h- ow!" hermione screeched as you hit her from under the table shaking your head furiously , "yknow what ive had enough of this , you WILL talk to the boy and you WILL sort this out. everyone is sick out it y/n so come out NOW!"
hermione pure fury and demanding tone made you cower at your older sister , before slowly coming out from under the table with deep embrassament.
theo watched as you came out and stood infront of him , head down , "theodore-".
you words were cut short as he grabbed your wrist and dragged you out of the library , avoiding your protests and tugging.
he dragged you in the same manner , through the dungeons and through the slytherin common room , until you reached what you supposed to be his dorm.
then he pushed you infront of him , the back of your legs hitting the wood of a bed frame as you stumbled for balance , watching him pace the room.
"you have to tell me what i did , please PLEASE tell me what i did because i cannot go on any longer with you avoiding me!" he stammered.
you silenty watched as he try to push out his words , the consequences of your actions setting in.
"i-..i got second thoughts-"
"WHY!" he shouted back , walking towards you.
"because - because... YOU DO THE GOOD STUFF!" you finally stammered out as he stared back , dumbfounded.
there was a short pause of silence as he blinked in confusion , "...what the fuck is the good..stuff?..."
"DRUGS!" you finally let out with a sigh of relief , like a weight had been lifted off your chest.
"you-..i-...what the fuck?!" he breathed out in shock , eyes wide , "i- i dont do fucking drugs!"
"oh yeah? then who was that boy on our date? he asked if you wanted your weekly supply nott!" you shouted, angered by his denial.
he stared into your eyes with pure confusion before seeming to peice things together in his mind , his exression dropping.
before he laughed hysterically , holding your shoulder for support.
"what...why...why are you laughing?" you asked, bewildered.
"the good stuff..is..its not drugs!" he let out between loud laughs , "its fucking chocolate!"
your jaw dropped as you stared at you bankly , "what- what do you mean?!"
"this boy in our year - in slytherin - he gets chocolate from his mum every week , he hates it and doesnt want it to go to waste every week..so he gives it to me because i really like it!" he continued to laugh through his explanation as you cheeks reddened in embarrassment.
"what-...i-..who the fuck calls chocolate the good stuff!?!" you screehced in pure shame , theodores wheezing drowing out your feelings as you begin to laugh with him.
after a few seconds of theodore collecting himself he grinned and looked you in the eyes , holding your face softly , making your breathe hitch and giggles cease , "i cant believe you actually thought that.why would i ruin my godly body with that stuff?"
you smacked his arm as he smirked and winked , both of you laughing , "i guess i just...i got scared , truthfully , i like you a lot theo and i guess i was just begging to not...falll for you."
"so you avoided me? rather than speaking to me?" his eyes saddenned as your heart shattered at the sight.
"im so sorry teddy , ive- ive never had a boyfriend before im new to this feelings and- its terrifying it really is!" you desperatly tried to reason to him , words speeding out of your mouth.
he softly ran a hand through your hair , eyes seeping with adorations as a soft smile found his lips, "i know. dont worry i get it. just...dont avoid me ever again - just talk to me, okay?"
you nodded swiftly as he smiled brightly at you.
"now...how about we lay down and just...talk. then you can really get to know me and never misjudge again..sound good?" he whispered.
"sounds like heaven." you smiled back at him , his lips finding yours much softer than your first exchange , with much more love and delicacy.
for the next few hours you did exactly that , talking and talking. you talked about everything- you even told him your favourite film , of course its the little mermaid.
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runa-falls · 1 year
Note
I saw that you think Miguel is a thigh man 😩 can I request him x reader who's thighs clap when they run or so some type of activities. I got that problem sadly 😵‍💫😮‍💨
yes, of course!! i love talking ab our thigh fucker ;^)
cw: body insecurities, thigh chafing (yeouch), fluffy reassurances, small bit of smut (OK IM SORRY 😳 i didn't see that coming [yes i did.]), just oral and uh, a bit of marking, not proof read!!
---
you've never enjoyed prolonged physical activity: running, swimming, biking, etc, because you hated the way your thighs would slide against each other; uncomfortably chafing your skin and making noticeable sounds.
so when miguel proposed a hike for your weekly date, you were hesitant to agree. unfortunately, he's very good at persuading you...
that's how you found yourself on a narrow trial shrouded with trees, taking slow, cautious steps as you attempt to keep your thighs from touching as much as usual.
of course, it only helped so much. your inner thighs were still chafing and getting sore, but you try to conceal your pain as much as possible, too embarrassed to mention anything to miguel.
though your boyfriend is the most loving and accepting man you've ever met, you still haven't told him of your insecurity. you're afraid that once you mention something to him, he'll notice your thighs even more.
miguel is pacing himself, making sure to slow down with you so he doesn't leave you behind (he does this hike all the time). he adjusts his baseball cap, making sure his wild curls are smooshed down as he watches you walk toward him.
you look beautiful today. you always look beautiful. but there's something about see you in this condition that make him twitch in his shorts.
he loves the way your chest heaves as you take deep breaths, your tits pressing desperately against the thin fabric. how droplets of sweat roll over the contours of your cleavage, outlining what he wants to see the most. and how your leggings look like they were painted on, completely revealing the overwhelming softness of your thighs and how they press so sweetly together.
he can barely take his eyes off of you.
but he can't help but notice how odd you're acting too.
he's perplexed as to why you're taking such big steps and moving like you'd rather be anywhere but there, with him. why your face is tense, yet completely blank at the same time.
there's clearly something wrong, but you've been silent this whole hike.
"baby, you doing alright?" you seem to be lost in your thoughts as you stare down at your dirt-scuffed sneakers, you don't even notice he's stopped in front of you. he calls out to you again, "babe?"
"hm?" you look up, pausing your unnatural movements to give your legs a rest, "oh, yeah...i'm fine" you attempt a smile, but even you can tell it looks fake and performative. his eyes bloom with concern as he notices how your legs are shaking under you.
"what's going on, sweetheart? are you hurt?"
"no...it's just," you look away, still apprehensive to mention anything.
he pushes, hand reaching for yours, "just what?"
"i-my thighs are chafing..." you say softly, looking back at him. he's frowning. "b-but i can keep going!" you start walking again, willing yourself to continue even though it hurts.
"baby, wait," he stops you, "don't hurt yourself. i didn't realize you were having trouble this whole time."
you shrug, "it's ok, i'm used to it."
"sweetheart, come here." he has his back turned towards you, coaxing you over to him. "get on."
"get on?"
"i'll carry you back to the car."
"no! you don't have to--"
"i want to." he interrupts, "then when we get home, we'll take a nice bath and get you all patched up."
"what about the rest of the trail?"
"we can just get our work out in at home..."
---
you sigh as warm water washes over the inflamed skin of your inner thighs. it stings sharply, but the pain feels oddly satisfying, especially as miguel thoroughly lathers shampoo in your hair.
"feel better?"
you hum, eyes closing as his fingers attentively massage your scalp.
"why didn't you tell me that you were hurting earlier?"
"i dunno, it just wasn't that big of a deal, mig."
"it was. you were barely able to sit without your hands between your thighs."
you snort, "i thought you liked it when i do that."
you yelp when you feel him tug sharply at your hair. "you know what i meant." he growled, clearly unhappy you're trying to avoid the subject.
"it's embarrassing."
"what's embarrassing?" his hands start to cup water onto your head, washing the suds from your hair until you're squeaky clean.
"my thighs." his movements stop suddenly.
"what about them?"
"they're...too big."
"too big?" he genuinely sounds baffled, almost scoffing in disbelief.
"yeah, they're always touching and they make this...clapping sound when i do certain physical movements..."
"so?"
"so?" you turn your head to look at him, questioning eyes meeting his scarlet stare. his red irises are mere slivers with how blown out his pupils are, heavy with lust.
"yeah, so what?"
"so...i don't like them." you voice is small as you look at him shyly, cheeks blooming with heat under the stringiness of your wet hair.
"well i love them."
---
miguel presses gentle and sweet kisses over your tender skin, relieving all the pain from your chafed inner thighs with just a touch of his lips. your legs are hooked over his shoulders as he makes his way up your body.
the prominent shape of his fangs press against his top lip as his sharp maroon stare fixes right at the apex of your thighs. you can tell he's holding himself back by the way his fingers grip bruises into the tops of your legs.
"baby, you have no idea," he takes a deep breath, eyes closed as his nose nuzzles at your inner thigh, "how fucking perfect you are."
"mig, please!"
he smiles cloyingly, letting you watch his fangs retract before he dips his head closer to your center. he wouldn't want to hurt you...
he locks eyes with you when he experimentally slips his tongue through your soaking lips, only giving you enough attention to keep you buzzing. he's delicately laving against you, feeling you tense and pant under him as he slowly builds up your pleasure.
a haze of lust instantly clouds over his darkened eyes and you watch as he gets lost in the taste of you. he pushes in deeper, tongue fucking you, slurping and sucking, while spilling muffled groans over your pulsing cunt as your thighs begin to tighten around him.
he flicks over your aching clit, drinking in your whimpers, moans, and cries as he teases you, pulling back every so often until you bury your hand into his curls and force him down onto you.
you're nearly suffocating him with your thighs when he start suckling you into his mouth, muscles trembling against him as you grow closer to the edge, and he loves it.
his silky lips and slick tongue push you straight off the edge. you hold on to him as your body writhes with white hot pleasure, hand in his hair and thighs around his head. you can barely hear the muffled groans he makes from how lost in ecstasy you are.
but he groans, and grunts, and then freezes.
"did i just..." he unwraps your legs from around him and sits up, tugging his briefs down in disbelief. your bleary eyes open, eyes glazed and unfocused from the intensity of your orgasm. "shit."
you look down and are graced with a beautiful mess that drips from his cock and the black fabric of his boxers.
you can't help the amused smile that spreads over your lips, "you need some help cleaning that up?"
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fyodior · 17 days
Text
IM NOT ONE OF THOSE CRAZY GIRLS.
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pairing: chuuya x afab reader (no gendered terms used)
cw: sex pollen trope :3 horny nonsense, F and M masturbation, riding, creampie, pm!reader. MINORS DNI
wc: 1.9k
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It had been a mission just like any other mission - some, now formerly, Port Mafia-associated grunts had been dealing arms behind their backs, and you and Chuuya had been sent to swiftly and quietly take care of them. It’s what the two of you did best - swift, quick, quiet. Silence those who need to be silenced, force confessions out of those who need to talk. The two of you were the most highly coveted and revered duo in the PM for your abilities, supernatural and otherwise. 
Something… odd had happened during this one, though. One of them had an ability of some sort, of which he had been trying to activate when Chuuya promptly eliminated him. You had noticed something shimmering in the air around him, but you truly didn’t think twice about it, considering the commotion had kicked up a lot of dust in the old warehouse. But now, sitting in the back of the car next to Chuuya on the way back to headquarters, you’re starting to wonder if his ability had been activated by the time Chuuya had killed him. Because this very odd feeling in your body is surely not normal.
Beads of sweat gather on your upper lip and forehead as your breath quickens, and you can feel your face burning. A sour, swirling feeling in your gut is making you feel sick, and every square inch of your skin feels like it’s on fire, making your vision blur. And worse? You’re so fucking horny you can barely see straight, the throbbing in your pussy barely quelled by squeezing your thighs together. 
“Chuu, I’m not, uh,” you gulp, struggling to get the words out. “I’m not feeling great.” 
When he doesn’t respond, you look over to find him in worse shape than you. His normally pale cheeks are cherry red, sweat dripping down his forehead and matting his ginger hair to the sides of his face. Chest heaving, it seems like he’s gasping for air, and, wait - is he whimpering? When your eyes trail down his slim body, you spot the final confirmation needed to know that he’s in the same boat you are - he’s rock fucking hard, a clear outline of his dick painfully obvious in his slacks. 
“ ‘m not feelin’ great either,” he grunts, words shaky. He tries to cross his legs but yelps, even the slight amount of friction clearly too overwhelming. 
Never in your life have you felt this aggressively aroused, to the point where it’s damn near painful. At this point, all you can think about is touching yourself, and getting something inside you. 
“How much longer ‘til we’re back to headquarters?” your words are stunted, dripping with desperation. 
Chuuya checks his phone, hand shaking. “Thirty minutes.” 
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you whine, burying your face in your hands. 
It’s clear that both of you are feeling it, but neither of you are able to admit it. Not until Chuuya finally breaks. 
“I- fuck- I gotta come so bad before I fucking pass out,” he grunts.
Your eyes go wide at the statement - Chuuya was usually such a composed, disciplined man, that seeing him in such a frazzled, desperate state is shocking, and a testament to the potency of… whatever this is. But honestly, you can’t blame him. Instead, your mouth waters as he fumbles with his leather belt, unzipping his slacks and pulling out his thick cock. 
A hearty groan tumbles past his lips as he wraps a hand around his throbbing cock, pre already leaking out of the angry red tip. His left hand digs into the leather of the seat while he pumps his fist up and down his length, angling his body away from you as a last ditch effort to preserve his dignity, but it’s no use. 
“Fuck- sorry, sorry,” are the only words he can get out, jerking himself off faster and faster.
You hadn’t realized you had been holding your breath this whole time until your body finally forces you to release it. Chuuya and you had never been anywhere near an item, had never shared anything more but alcohol induced lustful eye contact during work events, but it would be a bold-faced lie to say you had never thought of him like that. But how could anyone blame you? It’s Chuuya. So the fact that the man is jerking off mere inches from you is… overwhelming to say the least. And is only worsening the ache between your own thighs. 
In a haze, you undo your own pants before shoving a hand inside, even the feather light pressure against your clit making you yelp. But, fuck, even the half-second of stimulation had your hips bucking, begging for more. With no other choice, you give in to your altered self’s demands, massaging your clit frantically and haphazardly. The groans and moans you let out are completely involuntary - you feel completely detached from who you are, what you are. The only thing you can think of at this point is how desperately you need to come. 
The problem is… it’s not happening. No matter how fast you massage circles around your throbbing clit, no matter how many fingers you shove inside your sopping cunt, it’s not enough. You’re getting close, close, close, right on the edge of reaching the release you so badly need, to be broken free from this obvious curse that’s been bestowed on the both of you, but it just won’t happen. And, looking at the man next to you, it’s clear he’s not faring any better. 
Chuuya’s all but given up, hands laying limp at his sides and head fallen back against the headrest as he pants, his still hard cock twitching in his lap. Your eyes flit between his face and his cock.
“Is it…”
“It’s not fucking working,” he grits, teeth clenched and eyebrows knitted together. The man is miserable. 
But maybe… Maybe the answer is each other? Maybe to break this curse, to undo this ability, you have to fuck someone else? It’d be a shit ability if you could just take care of it yourself… But proposing that to Chuuya? To the man you respect and revere so highly, a top executive at the Port Mafia, the man who could ruin your life and career in a second if you chose to jeopardize it like this… Fuck it.
“Maybe I could hel-”
“Please do,” he interrupts, pulling you in roughly and mashing your lips together. It’s all teeth and tongue and spit but all either of you can think about is how badly you need each other, how badly you need to be connected and to fucking come. Even through the haze of your curse, you still feel it. How Chuuya is doing the most to keep himself in check, doing his best to not crush you with his inhuman abilities, in the midst of a drunk-like state. Even at his worst, Chuuya is the most respectable man you know. 
A hand comes to wrap around his cock, but he stops you, gripping your wrist.
“Get on top,” he growls lowly, and you don’t need to be told twice. 
Shedding your pants in a frenzy, your heart races and your breath is ragged as you clamber onto his lap, wasting not even a second before you sink down onto his cock. Gravity does the work of fitting all of him inside you, and both of you let out broken, strangled grunts and moans of not only pleasure but relief. For the first time, it actually feels like a step has been taken towards relief. The answer had been there the whole time - each other.
The space is cramped in the backseat of this SUV, but neither of you could care less. Wrapping your hands around his neck, you use every ounce of strength you have in your thighs to bounce on his lap in time with his upward thrusts. It’s messy, haphazard, and both of you are just barely keeping it together.
Swift, quick, quiet has turned into sloppy, wet, horny. 
But god does it feel heavenly. It’s not just the curse that’s making this feel so damn good, Chuuya clearly knows what he’s doing - even if his game might be a little off currently. His thick cock is stretching your slick pussy deliciously, rubbing against each and every one of your sweet spots with every thrust. What he lacks in length he makes up for in motion, bucking his hips up into you at just the right angle to have you babbling a mixture of curse words and his name over and over. 
One of his hands snakes down between you, finding your clit and pressing against it - the sudden pressure makes you cry out, throwing your head back and clenching tight around his length, making the man hiss. 
“Feel good, yeah?” he smirks, rubbing small but quick circles around your neglected clit. 
“More,” is all you can manage, gripping his shoulders for better leverage as you ride him faster, desperate for the friction. The combination of his cock inside you and fingers massaging your clit finally has you reaching the climax you’ve been frantically chasing.
“C’mon, sweetheart, come for me,” Chuuya whispers against the shell of your ear as he fingers work rapidly against your sweetest spot. His words are suave and yet his voice still quivers, evidence of the fact that he’s still just as under the spell as you are.
“Y-you come too,” you stutter. “Us- both.” 
The broken sentence is barely out of your drooling mouth before your orgasm hits you like a fucking truck, and you cry out as it washes over you, feeling like electricity running through each and every one of your nerves. It’s a high you’ve never felt before, an ecstasy like no other.
The way you clenched and rut against him as you came has Chuuya following you not long after, spitting hot, thick ropes of come inside your pulsing cunt, but neither of you could care less. That’s a problem for a later date. Right now, both of you are just trying to come down from… whatever the hell that was.
Foreheads pressed together, both of you try hard to catch your breath, panting dramatically. A sharp hiss escapes your lips as you climb off his lap, his softening cock slipping out with a string of cum connecting the two of you. Things are slightly awkward as you do your best to shuffle back into your pants in the backseat of the car, and Chuuya makes sure to direct his gaze out the window, as if he wasn’t just balls deep in your pussy. 
It’s a given that neither of you can speak about it. It happened, it’s done, it’s over, you’ll return to being platonic work partners and pretend that this never, ever happened. And you’re fine with that, you really are. Until…
The tingling feeling is back. You’re getting hot all over, and your breath is quickening. And of course, the aching between your thighs. Looking over, and sure enough, Chuuya is already half-hard again. Fuck. The two of you make knowing eye contact. There’s only one direction this can go. Looking out the window, you’re minutes away from HQ.
“Your place or mine?”
572 notes · View notes
mariasont · 23 days
Text
RAINY WITH A CHANCE OF HOTCH - A.H
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a/n: hi wow it's been a hot minute!
firstly, i just want to say i am so incredibly grateful for everyone who has reached out <3 i love you all and once i am not as overwhelmed i promise i'll go through my messages and inbox. you all are amazing and im kissing you all through the screen.
secondly, this summer was the hottest messiest express that could have been is the short n sweet explanation to my disappearance (sabrina reference, sorry i had to) but i just struggled hard core with my mental health and needed a detox from social media.
thirdly, but i'm back and i love you all and here is a short like fic featuring everyone's fav miss bimbo reader <3
masterlist
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parings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader
warnings: just some cuties being cute
wc: 0.6k
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Hotch hesitated to acknowledge the fact that he found himself often gazing out of his office window, discreetly observing your arrival in the parking lot each morning. He attempted to justify this behavior by reasoning that, as the unit chief, it was within his responsibilities to monitor the welfare of his team.
He mentally recited the same mantra repeatedly as he moved towards the exit, an umbrella tapping persistently against his side. Hotch found himself calling out your name before he realized it, his hand shielding his face from the unrelenting raindrops as he took in your appearance.
"Stay there," he borderline commanded, moving towards you as you clung to the driver’s side door.
You looked as pretty as ever, with your hair swept back from your face and curls framing your doe eyes. It made you that much more alluring and, consequently, even more distracting.
When you first joined as his assistant, he discreetly suggested to whoever was in charge of the hires back then that he was less than pleased with the arrangement. He found it hard to focus, his eyes constantly drawn to you. He wanted to claim it was involuntary, but he knew there was intention behind his constant search for you.
"Well, hi there, boss man," you chirped, your disposition utterly unaffected by the water that had dampened your outfit. 
He considered himself a noble man, honorable even, or so he told himself as he resisted the urge to glance down at your blouse that was now nearly see-through.
He quickly unfurled the umbrella, taking the liberty of shielding your perfect face from the onslaught of raindrops. You smiled up at him in a way that was so carefree it made his heart clench in his chest.
He cleared his throat. “You’ll catch a cold if you stay out here.”
“Good thing you’re here to prevent that.”
Aaron’s face was now wet, rivulets of rain tracing paths from his hair to his chin. He struggled to prevent a smile at your words, tucking his chin into his chest to conceal it.
He let you take hold of his arm, your purse occasionally tapping into his leg as he closed your car door and started towards the entrance. You leaned in closer, earning a knowing look from him.
You smiled into your coffee, pink lipstick staining the travel cup. “What? I wasn’t all the way under the umbrella.”
He knew that was a lie because he wasn’t all the way under the umbrella, ensuring you were fully covered.
“I didn’t say a word.”
“Your eyes are very expressive, Mr.”
“Then you should know I’m thinking we need to get you inside and dry." He looked at you knowingly, his grip on the umbrella tightening as you both reached the entrance.
“Dry? Around you?” you questioned, smiling innocently towards Hotch as he closed the umbrella and opened the front door. “Wishful thinking, sir.”
“Do I need to remind you we’re at work?”
Hotch combed his semi-damp hair with his fingers, flicking some water in your direction. You squealed, hands flying to shield your face, a stream of giggles following. The smile on his face was now inevitable.
“Sorry, can’t help myself,” you managed to say through the laughter.
He kissed your cheek softly, then started to walk to his office. Glancing back, he adds, “You’ll be sorry when we get home.”
That shut you up.
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astrolynnworld · 9 months
Text
aftercare
pairing: matt x reader
summary: matt takes care of you after rough sex
warnings: aftercare, comfort, kink talk, sweet, romantic, love
a/n: something short and sweet cause all my matt fics are smut
word count: 714
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“fuck i’m so proud of you baby. you did so well tonight” matt says after pulling out of me
i don’t respond.
“baby? are you okay?” matt asks
i try to speak but nothing is coming out my mouth.
“you’re shaking princess-“ he pulls me up and holds me against his chest, “can you tell me what’s wrong baby? please?”
“i’m sorry. tonight was just a lot.. i’m not used to you being so rough” i say in a soft tone
“baby i’m so sorry. i didn’t realize that you weren’t enjoy-“
i cut him off
“no no no i did enjoy myself, i just don’t think my body was ready for all this-” i imply
“i mean .. i came three times, i can’t say i didn’t enjoy myself. it was just a lot” i continue in a lighthearted joking tone
he continues to hold me and lightly trace his fingers through my hair
“so.. i didn’t do too much?” he asks anxiously
“no baby, i’m just a bit overstimulated” i say as i lean back and look in his eyes
i could tell he really felt bad. which only made me feel worse
matt would never intentionally hurt me or do anything i don’t enjoy
we do have safeword, if i ever felt uncomfortable im not afraid to use it.
im just so used to a soft dom matt.. not a matthew who’s slamming into me at full speed while pushing my head into the bed so i can’t breathe.
i mean i was done after the second orgasm but he kept going, and i couldn’t stop him. it felt so good
i couldn’t even think anymore. he had his hands around my throat squeezing softly while lightly slapping my cheeks. it was all a lot
don’t even get my started on the hair pulling. i never knew matt even had it in him to be aggressive.
i think what set me over the edge was when he told me to stick my tongue out so he can spit in my mouth. he’s not even into that?
but regardless, it was all very overwhelming so i’m not surprised that i froze up after our final round
“baby?” matt calls out
“hm?” i respond
“did you hear what i said?” he asks
“no..”
“do you want me to run us a bath, would that help you relax”
i simply nod my head and he gets up to run the bath water
no less than a few minutes later he comes back and carries me to our bathroom and sits me in the tub loaded with bubbles
“aww you put bubbles in it? matt that’s so cute” i snicker
he smiles, “i thought you would enjoy more than the regular clear water”
he hops in the tub and sits across from me.
a comfortable silence fills the room for a minute before matt begins to speak
“are you sure you liked the sex tonight? i kinda just wanted to try something new, im sorry i didnt bring it up to you”
“matthew, i promise i enjoyed tonight! i just wasnt expecting it whatsoever.” i reply back
“okay oka-“
“it was really hot actually. i didn’t even know you were into some of these things” i interrupt
“like what?” he asks
“the spit..”
“honestly. i kinda always wanted to try it but i never did in fear that you would hate it” he exclaims
“what? no! that shit is such a turn on.”
“glad to know..” he smiles
i laugh, “boy! stop”
more silence fills the air for a few more minutes until i start to feel the drowsiness take over me
i yawn, “im getting sleepy..”
“wanna head to bed?” matt asks
i nod in response
he gets out the tub and guides me out, matt drains the tub as i dry myself off then we head back to our room
“where are you going?” matt asks
“to find a top?” i reply
“you don’t wanna sleep body to body?..” he questions acting offended
“you’re such a girl” i laugh
we hop in bed and i get comfortable in matt’s chest
“i love you so much y/n”
“i love you more matt”
our last words before the silence is filled in by comfortable snores
————————————————————————
a/n- the end 🫠
2K notes · View notes
eomayas · 6 months
Text
never lose me • ljh
pairing: woozi x f!reader, established relationship
genre: smut, 18+ MINORS DNI!! slight angst, fluff, miscommunication
synopsis: it’s been awhile since you’ve gotten jihoon alone, and a sundress is all it takes for him to realize how much he misses and is obsessed with you
warnings: pwp, unprotected p in v, oral (f), riding, fingering, reader wears a dress, they say ‘i love you’ a lot, mild angst, fluff, buff woozi, long haired woozi
a/n: i love woozi. unedited of course
jihoon knows he’s in trouble the moment you step out into the living room in a baby pink sundress that clings to your chest and gives you a lift, your hair tossed up in a loose updo, donning gold jewelry, and a smile that makes him physically weak. his chest swells with love and desire, a deep sense of yearning overtaking his being.
he’s been distant lately, he knows. working late nearly every night and leaving early in the morning. sometimes, he doesn’t even make it home and ends up sleeping at the studio or at the dorms, despite having his own place with you. he’s been meaning to make it up to you—he bought you a few things, though he knows the key to your heart isn’t material things—though he hasn’t really found the time (or out in much effort) to do so, other than offering to take you to the farmers market today since you mentioned it awhile ago and he never went with you.
looking at you now, he’s overwhelmed with the information that he’s very much in love with you, and that you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. “are you ready?” you ask him, a soft smile on your face. jihoon swallows and nods, standing up from the couch and wiping his palms on his jeans. he places a hand on the small of your back and places a gentle kiss on your jaw.
"you look pretty," he says softly, removing his hand from your back to hold onto yours. you blush and thank him, feeling an ego boost that he at least noticed. it’s been hard interacting with him since when you do see him, it’s short and brief. you understand that he’s busy, and understand he needs his time and space to work—you’ve never taken issue with that—but you do miss him, more than anything.
the drive to the farmers market is short, and you do most of the talking, catching him up on things you know he’s missed, whether it be things going on in your life, or in the pop culture word. he’s quiet, but he hangs onto every word you say even if it’s not about you and your life. it makes him realize just how gone he’s been, and he starts to feel guilty and like the worlds worst boyfriend.
“ji, you okay?” you question, tapping his leg. he looks down at your hand and grabs it with his right, squeezing it. he glances over at you and sees the concern on your face and begins to feel worse.
“yeah, yeah im fine,” he says unconvincingly. you know him better than that—probably better than he knows himself—and you know something is there under the surface, but you never push him unless you feel like he needs to be pushed. rather than forcing the truth out of him, you leave it alone.
soon enough, he’s pulling into the designated parking lot for the farmers market, and the two of you are getting out of his car and walking hand in hand through the street. it’s a bright day, and there are many people, families, and dogs milling about. “ji, we should get a dog,” you say when another toy poodle passes by the two of you. he chuckles and shakes his head lightly. “cmon, it would be like prep for when we have an actual kid.” you say casually, a twinkle in your eye.
the breath gets caught in jihoons throat and his cheeks flush. the two of you have talked about having kids before, but not recently. the fact that you’d still consider him to be the father of your children makes him feel warm and hopeful that he isn’t a total screw up of a partner.
“i’ll think about it,” jihoon says, swallowing. your grin at him and grab ahold of jihoons hand to drag him over to a booth. he lets you guide him, his brain still stuck on the comment about kids. he wants kids, especially with you, and now he can’t seem to think of anything else.
and he lets you guide him to whichever booth you want. you lead him to a booth that sells fresh produce, and he stays close by to you while you pick things out. he can’t help but watch you move and feel an ache deep inside of him, a strong sense of yearning for you despite the fact that he has you. “i’m gonna try to bake something this week, what do you want?” you ask jihoon, picking up a carton of strawberries.
turning, you have an expectant look on your face until you see your boyfriend looking extremely… sad. like a little puppy, his eyes wide and his mouth downturned into a small frown. “baby, what’s wrong?” you ask, placing a hand on his arm.
jihoon opens his mouth and closes it before trying again, taking a step closer to you. he slips an arm around your waist to rest on the small of your back, dropping his mouth close to your ear. “i love you,” he murmurs, mouth ghosting over your jaw in a soft kiss.
you smile and tilt your head to look up at him. “i love you too, baby,” you say, placing a kiss on his lips this time. you don’t really mind PDA—jihoon does, though he’s not complaining right now. he wonders if anybody else can hear how hard his heart is beating in his chest, and whether you can feel it, because it feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest.
once you two pull away, you go back to picking our fruit and jihoon goes back to swooning and yearning over you. but he wanders around the booth and grabs some vegetables that he can meal prep with, and finds you when he’s done. you tell him what you’re going to make for the week—blueberry lemon loaf—and then the two of you bound up to the counter to pay. jihoon hands the person behind the counter his card with ease.
afterwards, you pull him to more booths and he follows you closely, letting you wander around but never keeping you out of his line of sight. he can’t keep his mind off of you right now, he's so overwhelmed by you, and he wishes he could get a handle on himself right now. he's so consumed with the fact that you still want to have kids with him, about the fact that your dress is much too tight in the chest and its turning him to mush.
jihoon glances around and finds a spots a florists tent only a few feet away. you're preoccupied with looking at handmade jewelry that he's able to quickly slip away without you noticing. jihoon's eyes quickly scan the bouquets, reaching for a large one full of white, pink, and yellow flowers. he holds them for a second before setting them back where he found them and walking up to the people who run the booth. "hi, do you guys have any bouquets with peonies?" he asks, tucking his hands into his jean pockets.
the woman smiles and stands up, already walking over to another display of flowers. "yes! we have bouquets made up of entirely bouquets–like this," she holds up a band of pink peonies to show jihoon. "or we have a few that contain peonies, but not nearly as many. depends on what you like." she finishes happily, a polite smile on her face. jihoon's eyes dart between both bouquets, a crease forming in between his eyebrows. "is it a special occasion? person?" the florist asks, trying to help jihoon out.
"they're for my girlfriend. she likes pink," he says, reaching for the bouquet of mixed flowers. theres pink peonies, white roses, and a third pink flower he can't identify. "i think i'll just get these." the florist nods and leads jihoon back to the counter to pay. he hands her his card and rocks eagerly back and forth on his heels, feeling a semblance of normalness for the first time today.
taking the flowers, a sense of pride swells in his chest at the mere thought of handing them to you, in seeing the expression on your face when he gives you the bouquet.
when jihoon gets closer to the booth he left you in, his eyes search for you, but he is unable to see you. his eyebrows furrow, but he keeps his panic at bay–you're a grown woman after all, and you definitely could not have gone far since he was hardly gone for more than five minutes. he'll find you.
like a dog with a squeaker toy, his ears perk up at the sound of laughter. but it's not just any laughter, its one that he'd probably be able to pick out even amongst a chorus of people laughing. its the sound of laughter that always makes him want to start laughing; its infectious, and sweet, and its yours. its laughter that comes from your chest, and he can just imagine what you look like: eyes squinty, teeth showing, cheeks round. his stomach churns with butterflies at the mere thought of it.
jihoon follows the sound, gaze landing upon you in a few seconds. but he stops short when he sees why you are laughing. a man stands close to you, a bit too close, marveling at the fact that he was able to elicit such a sound from you. now, jihoon isn't a regularly jealous guy, nor is he possessive. but he sees the way the man looks at you, watches his eyes drop down to your chest for a split second while you're busy talking about something and not quite paying him any attention. the butterflies that once inhabited his stomach vanish, and the churning stems from elsewhere. he swallows and runs a hand through his long, dark hair, and finishes making his way to you.
the man notices jihoon before you do, and he makes his presence known by slipping a hand onto the small of your back. with a start, you almost accuse the man of trying to pull a fast one on you until you turn and see jihoon, immediate relief and relaxation washing over you. "oh! baby, you scared me," you say, sliding closer to him. you notice the flowers in his hand and you break out into a smile. "for me?" you ask.
jihoon smiles sheepishly and nods, but he keeps his eyes trained on the stranger. you notice jihoons attention divert and follow his gaze, lips parting, ready to introduce to two of them but you stop short once you realize you don’t even know the man’s name and that he just started talking to you. “uh,” you start, a shy smile on your face.
“ill leave you two to it,” he says, throwing up an awkward thumbs up and slipping off to wherever he came from. you look at jihoon and get help the laugh that escapes you, dropping a hand onto his shoulder.
“that was so awkward!” you say, hugging the flowers to your chest. jihoon gives you a halfhearted chuckle, the corner of his lip dragging upward before immediately falling into a flat line. he’s not upset, especially not with you. there’s a bunch of emotions swarming through him today, and that man only added fuel to the fire. he feels like he’s on borrowed time with you and can’t get ahold of anything.
a frown takes over your face at your boyfriends mood, your frustration growing. “jihoon, what is wrong?” you ask, voice hushed because of the public setting. he glances around and takes a step closer to you, arm snaking around your waist.
“it’s nothing, i promise,” he says, voice low. jihoon places a consolidation kiss on your cheek, but you don’t believe him. it’s bullshit and both of you know that you know that, but you don’t say anything because you really do just want to enjoy this day with him.
the two of you wander around the farmers market for a few more hours, jihoon hardly leaving your side of letting you out of his sight for too long. he is hyper aware of who talks to you, where their eyes linger and for how long. it’s extremely out of character, this level of possession he’s displaying. it’s not him, but he’s extremely on edge.
you notice it, of course. his hand rarely leaves the small of your back unless you wrap yourself around his arm. he’s not nearly this close and clingy to you, but it doesn’t necessarily bother you—his possessive behavior, though, is where you’re stumped. you’re now 101% sure that he’s been bullshitting you all day. again, you don’t say anything and choose to just embrace him being all over you, especially since it’s been awhile that you’ve been able to get time with him.
after a few hours of walking in platform sandals, your feet start to ache. the two of you have gone to nearly every booth at the market, and have seen the crowd die down. “my feet are killing me,” you say, flexing your toes.
“are you ready to go home?” jihoon asks, rubbing small circles into your lower back.
“yeah, i think so. we basically saw everything, right?” you ask, the two of you already heading back in the direction of the parking lot. jihoon nods, slipping his hand from your back to intertwine your fingers together. you glance over at him and smile, grateful for the time you’ve had with him today despite his strange attitude. “i love you, you know?” you say, bumping your shoulder with his.
jihoon smiles, looking down at that ground. “i love you too,” he says softly, the tips of his ears reddening. the two of you make it back to the car and jihoon opens the trunk to put the tote bag of stuff in the back. you wait for him, grabbing his arm and pulling him into a kiss when he closes the back. he holds onto your sides tightly, fingers lightly bunching up the loose fabric of your dress. you press your chest against his own, your nipples peaked and sensitive against the fabric of your dress mixed with the friction of his tshirt.
jihoon feels his mind go blank for a second, almost like he’s a virgin again when he feels your nipples through your dress. he hadnt realized how thin the material was, or what you weren’t wearing a bra, and now that changes everything about today, about the feeling of you in his hands, about the stares you received from strangers. it makes him more agitated and pathetically hard, though the latter makes him feel guilty for even thinking about you in that way when he’s barely spent real quality time with you.
pulling back, you place a soft hand on the side of his face, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb. jihoon relaxes against your touch, letting out a small breath that makes you smile. “i’ve missed you,” he murmurs, grip tightening on your hip.
you hum, placing your other hand against his chest. you flatten it over his right pec before gently dragging your nails over his clothed skin. “prove it,” you say, tone sultry. you flick your eyes up to meet his own and he swallows, his erection straining against his pants. if you notice it, you don’t make it known, just smile that angelic smile and slip away from him to get in the car. jihoon stands there, static flowing through his brain.
there isn’t a coherent thought in his mind other than getting you home as quickly as possible. he quickly hops in the driver seat and starts the car, flying out of the parking lot far too quickly. but he doesn’t really have time to stop and think, his dick agonizingly hard in his pants and you achingly beautiful right next to him.
“baby, it’s a red,” you say, looking over at jihoon with mild concern when he flies up to a red light, hardly feeling like he’s pressing on the brakes. jihoon leans back in his seat once the car is idle, and lets out a chuckle at his own ridiculousness. he won’t be able to fuck you like he wants if he dangerously speeds home, but he’s eager, buzzing in his seat.
“god, i love you,” he mumbles for the millionth time today, running a hand through his hair and pressing on the lightly on the gas when the light changes.
you smile and place a hand low on his leg. jihoon can’t help when he jerks at your touch, leg shifting open wider. it’s embarrassing, pathetic, and whorish, and his face burns in mortification. you bite back a giggle, not wanting to add to his embarrassment.
the short car ride home is tense. again, you talk and he listens—or tries to; unable to fully concentrate with your hand on his leg. you can tell that he’s really trying though, and you find it sweet since the tent in his pants hasn’t faltered once. you’d be lying if you said he hasn’t had you hot and bothered all day. he’s a man of simple fashion: black tshirt and jeans, but his bulging muscles will forever make you drool.
pulling up to the house is like beating the level in a video game before the final boss battle. except in this case, the boss level is getting you naked in the next few minutes. jihoon doesn’t even bother grabbing the stuff out of the trunk, just opens your door for you and ushers you up to the front door. he fumbles with the house key for a moment, lowly mumbling out a few curses before finally shoving it into the lock and opening the door.
jihoons on you in an instant, backing you into the closed front door and placing his lips on yours. you toss your purse onto the entry table and thread your fingers through his long hair. his hair has grown out a lot lately, results of him being so busy with work and forgetting about everything else. you like it, a lot, and rue the day he decides to chop it all off.
he pulls back from your mouth to kiss down your neck, groaning into your skin. jihoon holds onto your sides, hands kneading at the flesh. his mouth is hot against your skin, lips searing like he’s claiming you, branding you.. its a sensation you’ve been deprived of lately, one you’ve missed. jihoon kisses down your chest to the tops of your exposed breasts, resisting the extremely strong urge to rip you out of the fabric. “fuck,” he curses, moving back up to your mouth. he’s desperate for you he can hardly contain himself or get his thoughts straight.
jihoon pulls you from against the door and walks you backwards down the hall. you let him, hands gripping onto his biceps for support. you pull apart when he presses you back against a surface, and you find yourself in the kitchen pressed against the island. jihoons lips are red and swollen, his pupils blown and cheeks flushed. you lovingly run a hand through his hair, pushing the strands out of his face so you can really see him. he closes his eyes for a brief second and grips onto the counter, dropping his forehead against yours. "you're driving me crazy," he mumbles, breath warm against your face. "this dress. you." jihoon lifts his head to look at you, tongue darting out to lick his lips.
your heart hammers against your ribcage, like its ready to beat out of your chest and flop onto the kitchen floors. his gaze is intense and makes heat pool at the base of your abdomen, thighs pressing together. you reach behind you to unzip your garment, but he stops you, gently grabbing onto your forearm.
"leave it on."
jihoon is on his knees in an instant, flipping up the skirt of your gown and disappearing under the material. you want to see him, nearly ready to complain until you feel his mouth on your core. he breathes you in, brain clouding at your scent and wetness. your panties are damp and stick to your folds in a way that makes him spin. he wastes no more time and pulls down your underwear, yanking them off your ankles before stuffing them into the pocket of his jeans. his mouth is on you again, this time making you let out a soft sigh and bunch up your dress atop his shoulders. he grabs one of your calves and props it against his broad shoulders, spreading your open wider and giving him more room to work.
he's an expert with his tongue, and you let him know that by all of the sounds you make. you didn't realize how long its been until you notice how loud you're being, how quickly your legs begin to shake when he suckles on your clit. "fuck, jihoon!" you moan, knees growing weaker by the second. he keeps a firm grip on your thighs, supporting most of your weight. his tongue is everywhere you need him most, licking up your arousal like its the last thing he'll ever do.
jihoon groans against you, making you whimper above him and press your thighs together. his lips find themselves around your sensitive nub, and he lets go of the leg that is propped up against his shoulder to stick to fingers inside of you. you clench around him in a way that makes him feel like he could cum in his pants in the next few seconds. you're warm and tight.
"h-hoonie, i-i-" you cut yourself off with a pathetic whine, tears gathering in your eyes as he fucks his fingers in and out of you, his tongue swirling around your clit.
he's prepared for your release, but he's not prepared for the way your arousal squirts out onto his face. he freezes, watching your pussy flutter around his still fingers, your arousal flowing out of you like rain. "jihoon!" you yelp as you come, body burning and legs shaking. he attempts to retracts his fingers from inside you, but you clench around him and squeeze him back in.
its pathetic the way he whimpers and jerks his hips forward, a dark patch forming on his jeans. he manages to pull his fingers back, and stands up from the floor, hand moving to your hip to support you on your weak legs. the sight before him is one of his favorites: your chest heaving, eyes closed and mouth parted. its a state of bliss that he put you in, and he'll never get tired of it.
upon feeling him stand up, you attempt to sit up against the counter and open your eyes. when you see his shiny face, your eyes widen and your face burns with embarrassment. " oh my g-" he cuts you off with a kiss, tongue forcing its way into your mouth. you moan and grip onto his shoulders tightly, body buzzing.
jihoon is the first to pull away, spinning you around by the hips and pressing you against the counter. he grabs the hem of his shirt and wipes his face before pulling it off and and tossing it on the floor. next are his pants, though he doesnt even bother stepping out of them and just lets them pool around his ankles. he's never been this eager and hungry for sex, its almost animalistic the way he feels inside.
grabbing your leg, jihoon props your knee up on the counter and checks that you're comfortable. "yes, just fuck me," you sigh, folding your arms under your head and resting your cheek against them. jihoon pushes up your dress and lines himself up, pushing the head in and letting out a string of curses at your grip on him. you never fully got used to the size of him, but now that’s it’s been a minute the stretch is much more intense than before. "baby." you whine, biting your bottom lip, cunt fluttering around him. jihoon grips onto the counter with one hand and your hip with the other, bottoming out and staying still for a moment to really feel you.
"i l-love you," he says, breathing labored. he leans down against you and presses a soft, loving, kiss to the back of your neck. "i love you so fucking much."
he pulls back and snaps his hips back into your ass, a loud gasp getting pushes from you lungs, followed by a cry of his name. he's relentless with his strokes, unable to control himself. you don't mind the harshness, especially after how long you've gone without having sex. "j-jihoon!" you cry, tears brimming in your eyes for the second time tonight.
"i m-missed you," he grunts, pushing up your dress so he can see your ass, eyes trained on where you two connect. "missed this pussy, fuck!" he groans, knuckles turning white from his grip on the counter. a white rim coats the base of his dick, both of your arousals mixing together to make it easier for him to glide into you.
“it’s yours,” you mewl, pressing your hips back into him and deepening the arch in your back. jihoon grunts in agreement, moving the hand that is on your hip up to your chest. he gropes your chest, tweaking your nipple through the material of your dress.
he pounds into your hard enough to knock the strap of your dress off your shoulder. you want it off, but he’s adamant that you leave it on. “you feel so good!” tears slip out of your eyes due to the pleasure you’re feeling. jihoon pulls the top of your dress down and lets your breasts spill free, the other strap sliding down your arm.
jihoons strokes begin to lose rhythm and his breathing becomes exceptionally labored. you know he’s close—you are too, unbelievably close—and you want to cum with him. reaching back, you call out his name and wiggle your fingers.. jihoon grabs onto your hand without a second thought, squeezing tightly as he continues to give you a few more powerful thrusts. “baby, i’m c-close,” you breathe, the knot tightening in your core.
“m-me too. wan’ c-come with y-you,” he grunts, thrusts becoming shallower by the second. you whimper and clench around him, crying out his name when you start to spasm around him, legs shaking.
jihoon grunts and holds your hip tightly to keep you in place, groaning out your name as he releases his load into you. he folds himself onto your back, unable to hold himself up any longer while he releases ropes of his cum into you. you appreciate the weight of him on you, keeps you from floating up and away from the present.
“fuck,” he breathes, pushing himself up and off of you and pulling out of you warmth with a whimper that makes you involuntarily clench around him. “baby.” jihoon pulls out of you and grabs at your waist, gently spinning you around and cradling you in his arms. you give him a blissed out smile, eyes low and tired, skin shiny from a thin layer of sweat.
“hi.”
“hey,” you smile at each other like two lovesick fools, and you push yourself up to his lips to give him a soft and sensual kiss. “i’m sorry.” he mumbles against your lips, hands grabbing the zipper of your dress and pulling it down, the cool air making goosebumps arise on your skin.
“you’re forgiven,” you say in a rush, letting the dress fall to the floor. you’ll get to the root of the apology later, but right now you still need him.
it’s desperate the way jihoon gets on the floor and pulls you down on top of him, guiding you over his dick. you plant your feet on either side of his hips and lower yourself onto his shaft, mouth dropping open at the sensation of being split open for the second time. “ah, jihoon, fuck!” you cry, planting a hand on his chest for stability. you won’t last long riding him—both of you know that—but you intend to make it count for as long as you can before your legs give out.
jihoon is in a trance watching you bounce on top of him, fully convinced that if he were to die right now this would be the way he’d love to go out: you on top of him in all your glory, fucking him—using him, like he’s your little toy. and he’s happy to be exactly that.
the squelching your cunt makes every time you drop down onto him pushes him closer to the edge. he can hardly keep his eyes open, but he wants to look at you, wants to watch you as you take everything he’s got, milk him for all he’s worth until there’s nothing left. “i-i missed this,” you moan, switching from bouncing up and down to rotating your hips, dropping down onto your knees. “missed you.”
“i’m all yours,” he breathes, whining when you lean back and hold onto his thighs, raising your hips and swirling on his lap. jihoon reaches forward and presses his thumb to your clit and rubs quick circles on the sensitive nub to get you to your release. “cmon, baby. i k-know you’re close.” he rasps, body flushed with heat.
with a few more rolls of your hips and jihoon rubbing on your clit, you’re coming for the third time. jihoon catches you when you collapse against his chest, wrapping his arms around you and sitting up, hard member still inside of you. he cradles you in his arms as he ruts his hips upwards, getting himself to his own release shortly after, your warm heat sucking him in completely.
for a few minutes, you two stay like that on the floor. he holds you against his chest, softly dragging his fingertips up and down your spine. he goes soft inside of you, but deep down he feels like he could go for a third round if he really puts himself to the test, but with the way you’re breathing he knows that you two are done for the night.
sitting in his arms, you clutch him like he’s going to slip from your grasp at any second. you try to push thoughts about your reality away, but the longer he holds onto you the more you realize this probably won’t last beyond tonight. you’re partly okay with it, because he comes home to you. but you miss him. “jihoon,” you murmur.
“hmm?”
“can we talk?”
“always. what’s up?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
you pull your chin from his shoulder to look at him, placing your hands on his cheeks. “jihoon, i know you were… bothered… earlier today. talk to me, please,” you say, eyebrows furrowing. he sighs and hugs you back into his chest, feeling like he’s unable to look at you without feeling like crying.
“i know ive been a bad boyfriend. and i felt like shit today because i haven’t spent time with you in what feels like forever, and i just miss you so much, you know? and i love you so much, i don’t want to lose you—ever. and im just so, so sorry,” he rambles, clutching you tightly. your heart breaks for him and yourself. you’d never leave him, not over his job especially. you know he loves you, he shows it even where there is distance. but you appreciate him saying it out loud.
you pull back against his right hold on you, but he relents. “jihoon, im never going to leave you, okay? we just need to talk—you need to tell me when you feel any kind of way, okay? i love you, and you’re not going to lose me. i’m in this for the long haul,” you say, giving him a smile that makes the corner of his lip go up. for good measure, you give him a quick peck and run your hands through his hair. “i do wish you were around more, but i get it. i’ll always be here.”
he drops his head bashfully and sucks in a breath. “okay. i’m sorry.”
“you’re forgiven,” you say, kissing him once more. “but we need to get off this floor, hoon. i’m getting old.” you say, untangling yourself from him. you rise and let out a sigh at the loss of contact. your legs wobble and you catch yourself against the counter, glaring at jihoon when he chuckles. “it’s not funny.”
“it’s cute,” he says, standing up and picking up your guys’ clothes. he holds your dress in his hands and gives it a long look before lightly shaking his head.
“i’ll wear it more if it gets me fucked like this again.”
771 notes · View notes
aemndx · 2 years
Note
okay…. but imagine having aemond stuff his cum back inside you, loving to press his seed back inside your overstimulated cunt and breed you every day—
— 𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐒.
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gif credit.
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© aemvnd 2022. do not plagiarize, translate, modify or post my content on any other platform.
author’s note: y’all betta know…… i just had to write something for this -- my imagination ran absolutely wild with this one. i didn’t wanna write a lot, just somethin mini for myself to get these sinful thoughts outta my head… im sorry in advance. ♡ if you enjoyed – please reblog, comment + leave ur feedback! thank u & happy reading. :)
warnings: minors dni. smut. breeding kink. p in v sex (slight). fingering. cunnilingus. female pronouns. possessive behavior. dark!aemond. wife!reader. overstimulation kink. pain kink. pet names. romance. fluff. any grammatical errors are my own – in advance, i sincerely apologize.
word count: 2,3k.
pairings: aemond targaryen x reader (f).
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♡࿐ bliss.
true, undying bliss overwhelmed you, completely.
“you’re so perfect for me, my sweet girl,” aemond murmured, leaning down to press a loving kiss against your forehead, lingering there and closing his eye for a moment, breathing you in.
pulling back after a few seconds, aemond observed your face closely, feeling a warm sensation tugging at his blackened heart, feeling it crack into a million little pieces, watching you gaze back up at him in awe.
there was a soft look in your doe eyes, wide and innocent and full of love.
love for him, your husband.
aemond would never admit it, but he was almost certain that the very same look graced his face too, softening his sharpened features with equal amounts of–if not more–love.
with a deep groan, aemond thrusted his cock inside your cunt a few more times, feeling your inner walls tightening around him, wanting to keep him inside and milk him dry.
a faint, little mewl escaped your swollen lips, making aemond lean forward again and capture your lips with his, kissing you slowly and passionately. the wet, warm muscle of his tongue slipped out, licking your bottom lip, before tugging it gently with his teeth, causing you to moan.
you wrapped your arms tighter around his neck, pulling him flush against you – his naked, hard chest was pressed against yours, constantly brushing over your sensitive nipples, a whine making its way up your throat.
aemond smirked, reaching one hand up and tangling his fingers into your messy locks of hair, his other hand holding on to your hip to stabilize himself so to not crush you with his body.
“…mmm – gods, you were made to take my cock,” aemond purred against your mouth, slipping his tongue inside, your tongues slowly caressing each other’s sensually, neither of you in any rush.
“i love you,” you whimpered, your mouths molding together as one – perfection.
with one last gentle thrust of the prince’s hips, he squirted his warm cum inside of you, his load entering your womb.
aemond stilled his hips, your fluttering cunt sheathing his cock, making aemond throw his head back with a feral growl.
with his cock still buried to the hilt in your pulsing cunt, aemond squeezed your hip that he was holding, digging his fingertips into the sweaty flesh as he felt his cock twitch inside of you, softening and feeling spent.
immediately, he collapsed on top of you, his face nuzzled into your neck. sleepily, he started leaving little kisses against the salty skin of your neck, sucking on your pulse point, feeling your fingers gently brush through his long hair.
aemond practically purred, the feeling of your nails scratching lightly at his scalp, always a sweet comfort. “sweet girl… ‘m gonna try something,” aemond mumbled, though he did not move for a few more minutes, completely relaxed in the safety of your arms.
however, you did not mind – especially the feeling of his large cock still buried deep inside you, making your insides begin to tingle again, your belly tightening at the thought of his royal seed settling in your womb.
gods be good, you prayed silently for a son of your own to give to your dear husband.
you loved aemond more than anything – more than life itself, all that you wanted was to give him everything he wanted… most importantly, you wanted to give him all the love in the world, including an heir of his own.
suddenly, aemond slowly pulled himself out of you with a sharp hiss, not hearing you wince slightly at the uncomfortable feeling of being empty overcame you. you tried to suppress it, making your face remain neutral.
the prince simply leaned back on his knees between your spread thighs, tilting his head back and releasing a deep sigh of satisfaction. then, his head looked back down towards you, his one eye sharp and observing you, as usual.
aemond always enjoyed watching you, he liked making you feel uncomfortable, especially when around him, watching the way you’d start to overthink everything about yourself, making yourself think – was there something wrong with you?
it amused him greatly, no matter how many times he’d done it to you.
however, no matter how much the prince could be cruel, he’d never intentionally hurt you. releasing a calming sigh, aemond’s large hands moved to grasp both of your thighs, squeezing them and then shaking them a bit, watching them jiggle slightly with a twitch of his lips.
he adored your thighs.
then, his head snapped back up to look at you, his eye piercing and observing your naked figure, admiring it without shame.
the prince looked at the soft delicateness of your pretty face, down to your neck and collarbones that were littered in love bites from him, to both of your breasts which were swollen from him sucking and biting on them earlier, until you cried out his name.
you watched him trail his eye down further until he stopped at your bare cunt, watching it with an amused glint in his violet eye, his seed dribbling out of you slowly.
smirking, the prince seemed to have thought of a idea.
aemond slowly looked back up at your face, the sapphire that rested in the socket of his missing eye sparkled from the massive fireplace – although, you did not look away from him. if you knew anything about your husband, you knew how he loved a challenge, and you were not going to be the first one to look away.
no, not this time.
chuckling softly underneath his breath, aemond clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, before raising an eyebrow at you.
“will you be a good girl for me?” he asked, his tone flat but there was that hint of amusement hiding somewhere underneath.
if you didn’t know any better, you’d think the prince was up to something.
you gulped, nodding your head and started fidgeting with your hands, making him tsk at you, slapping your hands away. instantly, you stopped – nervousness eating away at you as you dropped your arms directly by your sides, waiting.
aemond hummed, nodding once before shifting his body so that he was now laying on his stomach, resting comfortably between your spread, open thighs. your cunt glistened beautifully, making aemond’s eye dilate with need and a feverish lust.
as he laid down, he could feel his cock twitch underneath himself, no doubt hardening once again. he couldn’t control himself when he was around you, you drove him nearly insane with a need to have you – always.
“my pretty little wife..” aemond drawled, his hands creeping up to rub up the outside of your thighs, his hands warm and comforting.
“you’re even pretty here, too,” he murmured, no doubt smirking as he heard you take in a sharp breath, his lips connecting to your mound, peppering kisses along the skin and across your hipbones.
he rubbed his warm, large hands up and down the outside of your thighs, closing his eye as he was merely enjoying himself – kissing, sucking, biting your hot skin into his mouth, moving down until his lips wrapped around your swollen, overstimulated clit.
you cried out into your shared chambers, one of your hands reaching up and grasping hold of one of the many pillows–one that happened to have belonged to aemond, since you loved to lay on it since it smelled like him–fisting your small hand into the soft material.
you immediately wrapped a leg around his head, unconsciously pulling him closer against your cunt, wanting more.
always, always wanting more of him.
aemond had made you come so many times tonight–too many times–that you had lost count.
without warning, aemond removed a hand from massaging the meat of one of your thighs and brushed a finger up your dribbling slit, gathering his cum that was leaking out and stuffing it back inside you.
you whimpered, fisting the pillow and the silk sheets below you, your head thrown back and your eyes rolling into the back of your head, feeling him curl the finger inside of you.
aemond hummed, continuously sucking and sending vibrations through your sensitive, little clit – before adding two more long fingers, stuffing them inside and just leaving them there, not moving.
almost like a plug.
minutes had passed, with just him sucking and flicking your clit back and forth with his hot tongue, though he fingers did not move, only remaining plunged inside of you, causing your walls to tighten and flutter, endlessly.
“aemond..!? what.. w-what are you doing?” you heaved, your chest rising and falling quickly, feeling your belly tighten once again, painfully – your muscles sore and aching now as you could feel yourself about to come again.
“please, aemond – i am going to come again,” you sobbed, sweating profusely and your heart feeling like it was about to explode in your chest.
aemond nodded, not missing a beat, “go on, then.”
“no..! no, no, no – please, aemond.. i cannot. it hurts, it hurts so much…” you sobbed, tears now burning your eyes, falling freely. your throat felt like it was on fire, as well as like it was closing from you gasping in too much air, trying your hardest not to come again.
however, aemond continued his ministrations on your clit, not stopping for a moment and evening wiggling his three fingers that were inside of you–keeping his cum from leaking out of you again–and with his other hand dug his fingers into the meat of your thigh that he was still holding, making you yelp in painful pleasure.
you were exhausted.
“p-please.. please,” you sniffled, shaking your head and begging.
aemond growled, pinching your thigh and then slapping it harshly in punishment, feeling you wiggling around too much.
“be sweet, wife – stop moving and come for me again,” he commanded, his words muffled but you could still understand him.
you choked on your own saliva, “oh, gods..” you whined, feeling your muscles tense and tense and tense, before the band inside of you snapped like a violin string and you let out the most earth shattering screech.
you cried your husband’s name over and over again, feeling aemond quickly squeeze in a fourth finger, beginning to curl all four of them inside of you, feeling your walls clamp down around them.
you were honestly afraid – afraid that he would want to see how much you could take and shove his entire fist inside–(you had heard ladies of the court gossip that their husbands had done that to them, and it was the most painful experience)–you never wanted to find out for yourself.
luckily, for you – even in your blissed out mind, you trusted your husband, knowing he liked pushing you to your limits, but knowing exactly how much you could take.
your thighs were quivering, your orgasm washing over you in tsunami waves of endless pleasure, with aemond continuing to gently lick your clit now, barely applying actual pressure – though his fingers remained.
“so, so perfect for me.. you’d done so well for me, my sweet girl.”
a genuine, dopey smile tugged at your lips, feeling relieved that you had pleased him, again.
once your high had calmed down, aemond pulled his mouth away from your clit, resting the left side of his face on your thigh, glancing up at you with a small smirk on his handsome face, watching you try to keep your eyes open.
“enjoy yourself, did you?”
you giggled, nodding your head yes. “i thought i was going to black out,” you confessed, embarrassment flooding your veins.
aemond lightly chuckled, “wouldn’t be the first time.”
you looked down, pouting and making him laugh harder, giving a sweet kiss to your thigh, before locking his violet eye with yours once more.
gods, how he loved you.
“i’m just teasing, my love.”
your eyebrows furrowed, “no, you are not,” you said, knowing he was speaking the truth – in fact, you had blacked out before while he was fucking you, his love for overstimulating you overwhelmed you.. time and time again.
although, you did not mind so much.
nonetheless, you liked to tease him back and pretend you hated it when he teased you – both of you knowing full well that you secretly adored it, just as much as he.
aemond snorted, before lifting his head and leaning forwards again, giving your clit a kiss, feeling you tense up immediately. “relax,” he said, eyeing your face. “i think you’ve had enough for tonight.”
you flushed, feeling his fingers twitch inside of you, before pulling them out slowly and began observing them.. they were drenched in his cum and yours, practically dripping on to your sheets.
aemond felt the corner of his mouth tug up, before opening his mouth and shoving all four fingers inside, sucking both of your mixed essence right off, swallowing with a low hum of approval.
your eyes widened, but then you licked your lips, watching him suck and work his tongue between each of his digits, his eye locked on yours as he put on a little show for you, smirking playfully.
with a pop of the last finger, he smiled, “delicious.”
you didn’t say anything, you couldn’t – you couldn’t even begin to describe how unbelievably attractive your husband was… and he was all yours.
“i love you,” you blurted out, but meaning it anyways. you were always more of the sentimental one between you two, but you could see the softness settle over aemond’s face every time you told him those three little words.
those three little words held so much meaning to him, especially coming from you.
aemond didn’t respond – instead, he climbed up your body, being careful not to crush you and settled until he was hovering above you, his face only mere centimeters away from yours. “..i love you, my beautiful wife.”
fin
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feel free to send in requests / thots here.
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stolasdearest · 8 months
Note
is it okay if I ask for Alastor x Reader who is like angel dusts sibling and reader goes to Angel dust you talk about their lasting crush on Alastor?
Alastor x Reader ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
EVERYONE SHUT UP! YES I LOVE WINGMAN ANGEL
Not proofread + 4:30 Lilly so writing might differ
Reader is Gender neutral!
Being Angels sibling wasn't easy, at least within in the hotel..or outside of it for that matter; but in the hotel it was definitely better, at least everyone didn't try and talk to you about your brother and instead talk to you.
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You however had your eyes on someone very specific, a person not many people would have their eyes on..well, Maybe your brother in a— joking fucking around type of way; but your eyes were looking at the Tall Red demon in a very different way; a fond way you weren't all that used to.
Thing is you were the youngest in your family, that didn't rid you of your family's habits and mannerisms, So you weren't surprised when you ended up in hell alongside most of your family but your brother had kept you away from many scenes, that included partners; so your new found feelings for the Demon were overwhelming, suffocatingly so and you had no idea where to go with it, that lead you to go to the only person you trust in this newly found shit hole
"Anthony?"
"what's up, sweet cheeks?"
Angel was still not used to being called by his real name, But it was allowed in private from prying ears; he set fat nuggets down and sat up on the side of the bed; patting a spot next to him gesturing you to sit with him, a familiar smile on his face while you scooted next to him
"what's on your mind?"
"Alastor."
"oh—"
Angel laughed as you covered your face with your hands, His name bluntly slipping past your lips as you cringed at yourself
"he's like the Boogeyman, don't say his name too loud or he'll appearrr"
You smacked his arm and laughed, watching Angel make "scary" gestures as you both giggled amongst one another, before you patted your thighs and dramatically inhaled and sighed
"yeah yeah.. Boy troubles aye? Been there"
"yeah so help me"
"with him, Sweetie I can pray that's it"
"Anthony!!"
"sorry sorry!!"
Your big brother kneeled over laughing as you scoffed at him, crossing your arms with a pout as you cleared Your throat
"ANYWAY, I need help, I have no idea how to approach him— if at all!"
It took the spider demon a bit to compose himself Before he ran his fingers through his hair before looking at you, a sincere genuine look on his face, his voice soft and gentle; just like you remembered
"I don't know mister cheeky Alastor that much, but he does seem to like you, so I'd say go slow; test the waters or he might rip you to shreds"
You tensed, he was right and you were playing a dangerous game trying to woo the radio demon and you knew that but what'd you have to lose?..oh right your life yeah yeah
Falling flat on the soft bed you groaned; Alastor was tricky especially for someone who'd never flirted in their life so this was uncharted territory and you weren't exactly starting on beginner mode, you skipped straight to expert. Angel soon joined you in laying on the bed, him to staring at the ceiling as you pondered and wondered, He was probably zoning out but whatever, but after moments of silence Anthony soon realized this was a heavy topic on your heart so he turned on his side, pulling you to his side; one of his hands ruffling your hair
"worry about that tomorrow will you? You need your beauty sleep; Alastor won't date a slob"
"what won't I do?"
"AAAAHHHHH"
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Authors note: Sorry for the ending Im starting to get a headache😭😭
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ciaoteamo · 5 months
Note
can i convince you to write gn!reader with francis mosses? but like… the kicker is a weird one… he’s lactating (can either be a usual occurrence or a weird situation for them) and asks the reader to help
Gøt Milk?
pairings: Milkman x reader
summary: anons request of course!
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warning: 18+ content
“oh, you’re back again i see” You tilt your head to the man opposite of you.
“miss me?” He asks.
“how have you not been killed yet?” Usually doppelgängers couldn’t hang around for too long as the same thing, otherwise people get suspicious and report them.
“i have my ways… are you gonna let me in easy this time? or do i need to show up your D.D.D. douchebags again” He questions.
“well, you know i can never make anything easy for you… what’s on your shirt?” You ask, seeing wet spits welling up right where you assume his nipples are.
“huh? damn it” He rolls his eyes once he realizes.
“is this some sort of abnormality?” You ask.
“you humans swear you know everything” He mumbles.
“well, is it?” You smirk.
“whatever, yes. just help me get rid of it i’ve been dealing with this shit for weeks now after you” He huffed.
“after me? you were the horny bastard that came in here first asking for ‘help’ ” You raise an eyebrow.
“besides, i don’t do favors for jerks” You shrug him off and take a peek at your clock.
“look, (Y/N)-“ He says, voice disoriented, taking you by surprise. He had a fist on the window that he quickly loosened once he saw you look at it.
“quite the temper you have”
“i’m sorry, just- look im desperate right now and you’re making this difficult for me…” His forehead was on the glass and he looked down in defeat.
“awe, i thought that’s what you liked?” You say, getting close to the glass to catch his eye.
He looked at you with knitted eyebrows and an almost pitiful expression. You roll your eyes and press the unlock button, succumbing to the pity.
“hurry up before i change my mind..” You sigh.
As if you needed something else to worry about today.
He came in quickly, and you lock the door again. You could tell he was biting back a shit eating grin.
He closed the door and stood a little awkwardly this time around. “so… what are you gonna do?”
“well obviously i’ll just squeeze it out… do you carry glasses with your get up? or did you just copy his clothes” You cross your arms.
“well i’m not really going door to door so no, i don��t have glasses” he answers, matter of factly.
You approach him, peering at the wet spots that adorned his button up. His nipples looked larger than last time.
You reach out and unbutton down until his pecs were in full display. You could see the beads of milk forming and dripping down the pink areola.
“oh my..” You gently touch one with your thumb and he tenses. With a little more pressure, his hand flew up to grab yours.
“whatever the feeling is, its too much. it’s overwhelming, yet relieving somehow” He explains.
You catch him off guard and use your other hand you squeeze until you saw the white liquid spray out. He choked and groaned, grabbing your hand once again.
“hm..” You look around the office for something to hold the liquid in. You kept your office very neat so there was only a large fast food cup in the trash can and your half empty hydro flask.
You grab the cup from the can and open your flask.
“we’ll use these. don’t worry about this coming from the trash, it only had ice in it beforehand. but you can drink the rest of the water in here if you think it’ll overflow” You inform him.
“also, sit here. ‘cause i’m still gonna give you a hard time” You wink. “if im gonna help you, you’re gonna help me as well”
He sits in your rolling chair and leaned back in the usual man spread position, chest heaving a bit from what you did earlier.
“you see this clipboard? and these folders? they have all of the information for the neighbors that are coming in today. i don’t know if you’ll need it but you know the rules here.” You start.
“for every doppelgänger you catch, i’ll reward you” You propose.
“and i’ll squeeze these baby’s until their dry while we wait on the next person to walk in”
“that’s a piece of cake for me, i can sense other dopplegangers you know?” He says, finally letting you see his over confident grin again.
“don’t care, like i said, you’re doing something for me in return, and this is it. hope you’re looking forward to it since you’re so comfy about it” Your eyes stare into his. His face goes a little pink and you chuckle.
“…oh lucky you! here they come” You push him out of the line of vision and stand in front of the window. “hi, how are you today?”
“i’m well! how are you” The neighbor replied.
“doppelgänger” You hear from the side. You look at the person in front of you. It certainly looked like a neighbor.
“ID please” The woman slides her ID through and you check to see that her name is typed complete backwards.
You close the security window and call D.D.D.
“wait, so you don’t even need to see them to know?” You whisper to the man in your corner. He shakes his head no and you hum to yourself.
D.D.D. comes to clean and you engage in the shirt conversation they have with you. “alright, we’re heading back now… but, (Y/N)?”
“yes?”
“where’s your chair today?” The suited man asks.
“oh, i’m trying to lose weight so im standing this shift” You answer with a smile.
“oh, well you look great already, so don’t push yourself too hard!” He waved and you wave back.
“that was sweet of him” You chuckle. You feel eyes burning a hole into your head and see ‘Francis’ glaring.
“ yOu lOoK gReat alReaDy” He mocked.
“don’t be jealous, it wouldn’t kill you to compliment me” You poke his forehead.
“yeah? well how abou- mmfuck” His annoyance, now diluted by his heightening sense of ecstasy.
“so much better when you aren’t nagging me” You had the reused cup pressed under peck while you massaged the area around his nipple
You tug at it and watch him writhe with the harsh sound of the milk hitting the button of the cup. With your skilled hands, the cup was reaching the halfway mark and his hands were digging into the back of your thighs.
“please…be a little more gentle” He gulps and his adam’s apple slowly bobs.
“we won’t be getting anywhere like that now would we?” You tease, giving him a quick kiss on the corner of his agape mouth.
He shuddered every once in a while and was sweating up a storm. You were kind of envious of the amount of pleasure these things could receive. He was pitching a mountain top before you, and just as the cup was full half way, uou hear the footsteps of another.
You set the cup aside and stand from and center, leaving the man disheveled and thankful for a break from the near overstimulation.
“hi how are you?” You beam at the neighbor. They slide in their I.D. and you skim over it before hearing ‘Francis’ speak up again with a groggy voice.
“human”
“Enjoy your day” You smile and unlock the door, making sure to lock it back. The neighbor smile’s and nods a thank you once inside.
“another good call, you’re on a roll” You smile back at him, feeling a little excited to torture help his other nipple now.
“i’m glad you came to me for this Franny. I never did get an apology for how you left my office last time, you know?” You tilt your head, leaning over the sitting man with a mischievous grin.
“oh yeah, i’m sorry about that” He sorrily smiled.
“no no no, it’s too late. you won’t be leaving until i fulfill my duty here today “ You pat his cheek.
Doppelgängers don’t have morals, no feelings, not a care in the world. And for the first time, you, (Y/N), have made one feel fear, lust, and regret all at once.
And with a talent like that? How could he ever leave you alone?
-end-
AN: what if i posted tiktoks at the end or start of my asks? idk i feel like it would be cool since tiktok’s gonna be gone in like 8 months 😭
Anyway, hope you enjoyed! sorry it look a bit lol.
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feyascorner · 9 months
Note
okay first of all i ADORE ur writing… wanna take a bite out of it..
anyway… uh… can i uhh… order a uhh…. astarion x tav.. and like..tav has a fucking insane pain tolerance and always has.. and like… uhh… one time she gets fucking TOTALED in a fight and like obvi it would hurt… and shes like crying subconsciously.. and when some1 points it out shes like “what???? why am i crying wtf???” and like looks down and is just fucking BLEEDING… n then.. astarion comfort…
only if u want thoo!!!!
a/n. Im like the exact opposite I'm very dramatic about the slightest pain but this is such a cute request so Ty!! ALSO PLS EXCUSE IF THIS IS A LITTLE CLUNKY I HAD TO TYPE THIS OUT W MY FINGERS🫠🫠
Astarion is grateful for your tolerance to pain.
Of course, he doesn't particularly enjoy watching you in pain, but he’s no fool. He knows the sting and the soreness that comes after he drinks from your neck. Well, at least, it should sting. However, it never seemed to bother you, and for that, he's forever grateful for it.
These strange sentiments expand past his thirst for blood, as the relief he feels when you’re battered up after a battle and you smile at him as if nothing’s wrong is incomparable to any other feeling he’s felt.
That relief does not come currently, however.
The battle was nearly hopeless. Overwhelmed in number, mages casting counterspell, fighters constantly aiming at you…he’s lost track of it all. By some miracle you and your companions stand victorious, and when he sees that you offer Karlach a lopsided smile, confirming that you're fine, he reaches to pick up one of his daggers.
“Tav—what in the hells, are you okay?”
It’s then that he spots the way your lip quivers and tears glisten threateningly at your eyes. And when you meet his own, they begin to drip down your cheeks like crystals and roll off your chin. He's seen you in tears before, but out of something more positive—not from pain. Before he can even tell what he's doing, he's rushing toward you.
“Why are you—” he sees the blood seeping from your stomach, and his face would've gone pale if he could.
You finally lift your hands to your face, eyes wide when your fingertips brush against the dampness of your cheeks. “Oh. Why am I?…”
Shadowheart scrambles to scrimmage around her bag. “Here, let me—gods, where did I—did we use all the healing potions?—”
“Oh for hells sake. Because you're bleeding!” Astarion hisses, his hand intertwining with yours as he drags you toward the nearest tree where he sits you down. He freezes when you flinch but you shake your head, wiping at your eyes. Your other companions are still searching the enemy corpses for anything that might relieve you of the pain, but they're taking far too long for his liking.
“I’m okay, it doesn't really hurt that much.”
“You’re crying.”
“I didn't even know I was-” you wince.
His eyes narrow. “Lay down.”
“What? No, I’m really fine!”
“Gods, love, please for once, listen to me. It’s quite straining to watch you clamber around with that ghastly wound on your stomach.”
You frown, but he guides you down anyway, careful to lay down your head against the grass. “Now wait patiently. Maybe if we’re lucky, our dear friends will find a potion before I start developing wrinkles.”
A momentary silence hangs in the air. It’s by no means uncomfortable, but there are words on the tip of his tongue he wishes to say. And when he notices you staring, he sighs.
“If you're hurt, tell us. I don't care how high your pain tolerance is—if you're hurt, call us. Call me. Don't be a fool and bleed out over a few enemies when we’ve been through so much worse.”
The sincerity in his voice is almost embarrassing. But with the way you're watching him so seriously, he can't bring himself to dwell on such irrelevant factors.
Then, you smile again, as if you've forgotten about the pain. “How minor can the pain be for me to call you?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“Can I call you when I stub a toe?”
“Absolutely not.”
“I will.”
He stares at you with lidded eyes and you laugh. He feels the weight on his shoulders get a bit lighter.
“You may call for me whenever you wish.”
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loonylupinblack3 · 4 months
Text
Home Race
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Summary: Charles finally wins in Monaco and you're there to celebrate alongside him
Warnings: none i think? maybe slight suggestive content but very, very vague
Word Count: 1.2k
A/N: I LITERALLY CAN'T EVEN IM SO HAPPY FOR CHARLES YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND 😭😭 THIS IS LIKE A DREAM
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Your heart was bursting. You felt like you couldn’t breathe as you ran through the paddock, ignoring the flash of the cameras. Charles had won. Charles had won in Monaco, his home race, a dream he’d held close to his heart for years but one he’d started losing hope for, year by year as luck went against him.
This year was different. You’d felt it in the air, as you arrived for the weekend. A hope, latching onto your heart, stronger than usual. There was a fevored excitement in the air that hadn’t been there before, as if the people of Monaco too knew this was the year Monaco would finally accept Charles, would let him win and feel that pure ecstasy of earning P1 in your home race.
People moved out of your way as you ran, smiles and congratulations following you. Fifth place was good; you could have done better, but a 5-6 for Red Bull was still an acceptable turnout, and you knew some teams on the grid couldn’t even dream of actually achieving a 5-6, so you were okay with your result.
It didn’t matter to you much though, not with your boyfriend having finally achieved his childhood dream of winning his home race. You could only imagine the emotions he must be feeling, the joy and shock of finally winning. The relief of finally feeling like maybe, maybe you do belong there, maybe you do deserve this. The overwhelming pure happiness of winning in your home, along your streets, full of people you know, your people, watching from balconies and screaming from stands. You couldn’t be happier for your boyfriend if you tried.
You made it to the crowd waiting beneath the podium, pushing yourself to the front. You stood out like a sore thumb with your navy Red Bull uniform against the sea of Ferrari red and yellow but you didn’t care, and no one else did either. Everyone had long ago gotten used to seeing Red Bull livery in the Ferrari garage and vice versa, the two of you always together no matter what team you’re on.
Today was no different, and you were pat on the back and had your shoulders squeezed by Ferrari engineers and employees, an honorary member of the team as they liked to call you. You craned your neck back to look at the podium, waiting with a grin for Charles to appear.
When he did you cheered alongside everyone else until your voice was hoarse, clapping your hands until they were raw. Charles spotted you immediately, like an iris in a sea of roses. His already ear splitting grin widened, eyes locked on you as he took his place in the middle of the podium.
You shared a smile, trying to show all the emotions you couldn’t put into words. Charles understood it; he always did, his gaze softening, smile morphing into something special, just for you. Your heart fluttered, even after all these years together, and your smile turned slightly shy, something Charles noticed if the way his grin turned into a smirk was any indication. 
You watched as he was awarded with his trophy, hugging the Prince of Monaco like an old friend, his hair windswept and eyes alight with an infectious joy. He grinned down at his team, at his fans, and at you. He had everything he wanted in front of him. The day could not get better.
You waited for him to get off the podium, hurrying to meet him at the Ferrari garage. When he finally made it there- being the winner of a grand prix made you a very busy person- his eyes immediately scanned the area for you, the corners of them crinkling from a smile when he found what he was looking for.
You ran up to him and threw your arms around him in a bone crushing hug, feeling so overwhelmingly happy for him. He mirrored your emotions, an iron grip on you as one hand wrapped around your waist and the other rested on your back, nestling his head into your hair.
You pressed kisses to the side of his head, and when you pulled back peppered his face in kisses too, the man laughing but indulging your antics, the both of you over the moon. He cupped your face in his hands when you were done, staring into your eyes, finding the same happiness he was feeling in them. You understood each other, cared for each other and both your achievements. His happiness was yours and vice versa.
He grinned, pulling you close for a kiss. There were cheers and teasing whistles as people watched, causing the two of you to smile against each other's lips. It wasn’t a long kiss- you’d save that for later when you were alone- but it was nice. It meant something, something only the two of you would understand and share.
You pulled back, letting Charles get dragged away and congratulated over and over, but he made sure you were close by, always catching your eye in the crowd, wanting to share this amazing moment with you.
You walked by his side, his arm wrapped securely around your waist as they travelled away from the garage to the docks by the harbour. By now some employees had left, and family friends had joined the group, creating a sea of colour rather than just red and yellow. You reached the docks and you took a safe step back from Charles, knowing what was about to happen.
Just like you expected, Charles took an unsuspecting Fred Vasseur’s shoulder, manoeuvring him to the edge, and with a strong shove pushed the man into the water, a spray of water droplets hitting the now laughing crowd.
Charles readied himself to jump in and you made sure your friends were recording- you hadn’t retrieved your phone after finishing the race- when Charles paused, turning towards you. Too late you realised what was about to happen, and by the time you started shaking your head Charles had you by the hips and jumped into the water, taking you down with him.
You let out a shriek as you hit the water, the cold enveloping you as your face went under. You could feel Charles’ hands leave your waist, so you both didn’t drown, and you swam up eagerly, gasping for breath when you broke through the water’s surface.
Charles came up shortly after, laughing and wiping his face. He saw you and gave you a cheeky grin, one you responded to by splashing him with water, the man exclaiming in surprise, his pleading mixed with laughter.
Before you could continue he had his arms wrapped around your waist and was tugging you to him, creating ripples through the water. You put your hands gently on his shoulders to balance yourself, smiling down at him.
“I love you,” you whispered. “I’m so proud of you.”
Charles pressed his head against your chest, giving your waist a squeeze. “Thank you mon amour. I love you too. So much.” He pulled back to look at you, his eyes full of adoration, and gently peeled a strand of wet hair from your face and tucked it behind your ear. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”
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slytherinshua · 2 months
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SUMMER'S #1 PERK
genre. fluff. warnings. gyuvin is shirtless ‼️⁉️ n reader gets very shy. AND GYUVIN IS SO FLIRTY GOD. not proofread cause it's 6 am and i'm going to sleep but i'll fix it later if i have to skdjsk. pairing. gyuvin x fem!reader. wc. 1k. request. requested by 🥟 anon for prompt #27: "eyes up here, idiot" ++ written for @blue-jisungs <3 (i forgot if this was a deal before or not but uhh ik im getting gunwook in return for finishing this so a win is a win 💪) a/n. the zb1 delusions continue guys (send more in if u have any 😭‼️)
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You had never been a fan of summer. The overwhelming heat, sticky sweat, and endless free time just clashed with you. As soon as summer started, you were already counting down the days until it would end, much preferring winter to it any year. 
But, as you sat on the pool chair under an umbrella, you realized that summer might have at least one perk to it. And that was your boyfriend shirtless at the pool.
You had been dubious at the idea of swimming with your boyfriend’s friends when he suggested the idea to you that morning. It was only your second or third time hanging out with them, and you never particularly liked water activities. But all your prior reluctance seemed to have disappeared into thin air the second Gyuvin walked out of the house with iced lemonade in his hands and a very clear absence of any swim top. 
You couldn’t help but blush at the sight. Truthfully, the most you had seen was him in a tank top as the weather got warmer. You were always one to take things slowly, and while you knew he worked out and definitely had muscles hiding underneath, you were never in a rush to see them. Maybe because you knew you would get flustered like you were now. 
Gyuvin’s eyes searched for yours, as they always did when he was apart from you for any amount of time. His face brightened when he spotted you sitting cross legged on the pool chair, book in your lap, trying your best to look anywhere but him. 
“Want some lemonade?” He asked as he walked over, holding a cool glass topped with a pink straw and a paper umbrella. The sun shined straight down on him, doing wonders to warm his skin tone to a rich golden colour, his chest and abdomen catching the warmth of it as well. 
He had told himself he wouldn’t get his hopes up about your reaction to him being shirtless. He loved having an effect over you; it boosted his ego. But he didn’t want to be cocky. It was true that he had worked on his chest and abs a little harder specifically for you. Who could blame him for wanting to look nice for his girlfriend? He just wanted to match up to how pretty you were.
He didn’t miss the way you were avoiding eye contact, or the flush that was taking over your face. Now that he saw how shy you were, he couldn’t help the grin that spread to his face. You took the lemonade from him and used it as a distraction, although you snuck another peak at his stomach when he handed you the glass.
“The boys want to do a relay race. I’ll be back once I win!” He said cheerfully, leaning over your chair to give you a kiss on the forehead.
You let out a sigh of relief when he turned away from you, so sure you were going to completely melt into a puddle under his stare if he looked at you for even a second longer. Watching him from a distance was infinitely easier on your racing heart.
The boys did several rounds of relay races, and then started to play catch with some pool toys. You just watched them with a smile on your face. They were having fun, and you loved to hear your boyfriend’s laugh. He was on a team with Jiwoong, Yujin, and Ricky for a game of pool volleyball, and somehow, miraculously, they won against the others.
You saw Gyuvin cheer, hugging Ricky in celebration. It was cute how hard they celebrated just for winning a game of pool volleyball. Gyuvin then turned to you, grinning as your eyes met. You smiled at him and he beckoned you over to him, meeting you at the side of the pool.
You dipped your feet into the water, sitting on the poolside as the other boys got out to dry off. Gyuvin swam over to you, still somehow taller than you despite standing much lower in the water.
“Did you see I got the winning point?” He laughed, pushing his hair back off of his forehead as he got to the edge of the pool. 
“I saw! It was a super close game.” You smiled as he wrapped your legs around his waist, closing the little distance between you two. “You know, you distracted me from my book.” You draped your arms around his bare shoulders, not minding how they were still wet from the water.
He started to smile, “Oh? How so, baby?” He teased, already knowing where this was going. 
“How am I supposed to focus on anything when you’re shirtless?” It was hard to even say it in front of him, the sight of his smirk widening making you blush. You would’ve run away from his teasing if you could, but he had you trapped, hands securely on your waist, keeping you close to him.
“Eye's up here, idiot.” His eyes twinkled as he lifted a hand to your cheek, feeling how warm it was. You couldn’t even think of a suitable defense to save yourself from the embarrassment given how your brain was short-circuiting. Not that Gyuvin gave you any time to respond regardless, much more focused on capturing your lips with his. 
Seeing you shy only made him bolder, confidence bubbling in his chest more than it ever had before. Your blush was already the most adorable sight Gyuvin had ever seen, but to know it appeared because of him made his heart warm in his chest. 
Summer’s biggest perk was definitely this. Shy giggles, flushed cheeks, and warm kisses shared in the pool with your (shirtless) boyfriend. 
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ew-selfish-art · 1 year
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Dp x dc AU where Dick adopts teenage Danny into his family with Kor’i and Mar’i
Mar’i had always wanted a sibling, all seven years of her life in fact!! Toys and play times with friends couldnt possibly compare to having a brother or a sister, and she knew this as a fact from some of her school mates.
So when her dad brings home a kid that was all cut up and bruised, and her mom patches him up because something about his “biology” was weird- Mar’i sees this as an opportunity in the making!
Danny is healing up slowly but surely in Nightwings house, and he feels like a total intrusion. He’s now seen their faces and it feels like so much trust has been placed in him with no way for him to repay it. So he’s moping a bit, hanging in his room reading a book based on his video game series when a small child walks in, her arms filled with board games and toys.
“Hello, will you be my big brother?” Is all she asks him with a straight face, her eyes incredibly serious for someone so small.
“Er, im just here until-“
“Want to play a game?” Mar’i changes the subject favoring a specific board game in her hands. Rule number one of negotiation is to never let them say no- her uncle Damian taught her that.
“…yeah, sure.” Danny accepts because honestly? He could at least repay Nightwing and Starfire by babysitting right? They play a few games and then dinner gets brought in and for once, Danny feels like he’s having a normal family meal.
Next time she comes into his room, he’s focused on healing one of his larger wounds from the power in his core- he’s floating and his eyes are green. Mar’i is ECSTATIC. He fits in PERFECTLY.
“WILL YOU PLEASE BE MY BIG BROTHER?!?” Mar’i persistently asks every single day. Danny laughs and smiles and pats her head.
Once he’s feeling better, he starts patrolling with Nightwing, just to pay him back. Not that he’s having fun bashing goons and getting solid hero advice for the first time in his life.
Then he goes to Tameran with Kor’i for a diplomatic mission (his royal ambdassadorship/ king titles tbd) to discuss the Infinite Realms and why they absolutely need to abandon their attempts to use ghost artifacts. Kor’i explains how proud she is of him as they fly home.
He gets invited to all their family outings now, and he is overwhelmed by how accepted he is. How much the Bats all seem to leave him space for boundaries but invite him to do things very much to his interests (they are detectives after all). Once its safe, Jazz comes every now and then from her Ivy League college to hang out with them all and spend time with Danny. She gives him the advice he needed to hear about accepting good things into his life and deserving happiness.
One day Mar’i has a bad day at school, and when Danny gets home from his own community college classes- he brings her into a big hug, makes her a cup of tea from her mom’s home planet and once she’s comforted and happy again he says “hey, what are big brothers for?”
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