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peachysunrize · 4 months ago

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Corrupted by God ⥃ Prince Aemond Targaryen

Summary: after the battle of Rook’s Rest, Aemond comes back to King’s Landing as the heir to the throne with a newfound determination to make the Queen of the Seven kingdoms his queen as well.

Pairing: Prince Aemond Targaryen x Aegon’s wife/queen reader

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, dark content!!!!!!!!! angst, post Rook’s Rest, post s2e4, p in v, porn with a very little plot, breeding, emotional manipulation/heavy manipulation, dark!Aemond, a bit dubcon, Aemond has a hugeeee god complex, mentions of Aegon’s injury, rough sex, reader is not a Targaryen (the pic was pretty so I used it lol), tell me if i’ve missed something. English isn’t my first language<3

Word count: 2.5k+

A/n: pleaseeeeee read the warnings! This was requested by my beloved @sylasthegrim ! I hope I did your idea justice and hope you like it<33 Reblogs & comments are most appreciated🩷

A god among men, that’s how Aemond feels when he closes his eye and lets Vhagar float in the air, flapping her wings once in a while to get to King’s Landing faster. He remembers the nights he prayed to the gods to give him strength, to change his destiny, and to give him a happy life, but today, with his she-dragon soaring through the clouds, he took his faith in his own hands and became a God himself.

A delicious ache in his muscles seeps through his bones, but it is nothing compared to the rush of euphoria he feels as he imagines himself on the throne with his uncle’s head beneath his foot and his queen by his side.

His queen, you, oh how he has done all of this for you. He has turned into a monster, soaked his hand in the blood of his kin while he thought of you, and how he deserves to have a queen befitting him and his reign.

He knows what he must tell the council and his mother, something that surely aligns with Cole’s words, but what he has to say to you has been worded out for so long that he cannot believe his plan has finally reached so far to this point to utter them to you.

He sighs as he feels his pants tighten — at the thought of you and the weight of the Conqueror's crown — and to his luck, the city comes into his view, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth while he guides Vhagar atop Visenya’s hill. He catches the sight of two Dragonkeepers and a horse ready for him, watching how they scurry away from the old she-dragon and wait for her to land.

Vhagar’s body shakes the ground as her feet keep her body secured, and Aemond rubs her scales softly before he climbs down the ropes of his saddle, jumping on the grass before he shushes the dragon again, mumbling a soft ‘Lykiri’ against her snouts.

He doesn’t spare a glance at the Dragonkeepers, he moves past them to the guard who hands him the reins of the horse, and Aemond swings his leg over the saddle before guiding the horse down the hill, bolting through the streets of the city.

The wind blows through his hair as he rides the horse to the Red Keep’s gates, lords and ladies move out of his way quickly, making room for their prince so he can lead his horse to the yard. The guards are fast on their feet to reach for the reins, stopping the animal so Aemond can step down.

He jumps down, patting the neck of the mare before he strides forward inside the castle, the court is already fussy with anticipation of what has befallen their king, but Aemond has one person in his mind that he wishes to seek out.

“Aemond!” The sound of his mother stops him on the stairs, and he looks up to see her running towards him with shock and disbelief on her face, “what’s happened?”

“We took the castle,” he says calmly, almost dismissively, “our king graced us with his presence on the battlefield. We won.”

He tries to move past Alicent with a shrug, but she grabs his arm tightly, forcing him to look her in the eyes before she asks what has been bothering her ever since Sunfyre took the sky earlier that day. But with the look Aemond gives her, she closes her mouth silently, nodding before she departs towards the main entrance of the castle, waiting for the hand to come back to the city.

Aemond scoffs and takes long steps toward the royal chambers on the upper floors, passing the servants who shield themselves from his gaze as he goes past them.

He knows the path leading to the queen’s chambers like the back of his hand; through the stairs and Maegor’s tunnels — He has walked each way for many nights just to stay behind your doors and listen to your sweet voice talking to your daughter or handmaidens.

Aemond remembers the day you were wed to his brother, covered in a beautiful white and golden gown that brought out your curves to his eye. He was infatuated from the moment he laid his eye on you, and after such a long time, that infatuation has turned into something more primal and possessive, something that he thinks his brother does not deserve, that is befitting of Aemond and not the drunken fool who’s your husband.

Each step he takes adds more to the post-battle euphoria he’s experiencing — now that he’s the heir and the most powerful man, he deems himself fit to not just rule over the kingdom of ash and bone that is about to endure more battles, but to have his queen by his side. What better woman than the already beautiful creature that lies in an attached chamber to the king’s?

A ghost of a smirk forms on his face with each second that he walks within the hallways that lead to your chambers, his chin held high and his fingers itching with excitement in his leather gloves as he locks them behind his back.

Aemond licks his bottom lip, his blood rushing down to his core at the thought of the sight of you heavy with his child and the Conqueror’s crown atop your head. His queen, even the sound of it in his head seems right.

When he reaches your door, he pushes it without knocking, finding you already pacing with a wet handkerchief clutched in your hand.

Sweet sweet lady, the queen of his dreams, he basks in the way you carry yourself with worry for your husband. What a good wife he wishes to say, but no, a good wife to his idiot brother is not much better than a slur.

But to him? Oh, how much of a phenomenal bride-to-be you’d make for him, someone who is kind and deserving of his reign.

“My queen,” he says, standing straight when your head snaps in his direction, concern weaved into your features already. He takes in a deep breath as his eye runs over your form — a red long-sleeved gown with black dragons embroidered on it, your hair wild and free from your usual braids.

“Aemond!” You rest your hand against your heart as you take a few steps towards him, “What has befallen us? Aegon, he—“

“Shh,” he gently shushes you, his gloved hands coming to rest on your elbows, holding your body close to his, “we have won the battle. The castle has fallen and the false queen can no longer have a ground army.”

“That is great!” You utter, “But— what of our king? My husband? Aemond, is he alright?”

He smiles gently, a smile that does in fact reach his eye. There is a malicious look he has that it seems you fail to notice, because even his mother hesitated to let him go easily, but you? No, your soft and loving nature could never go past his mask.

“He is…”

“What? Please, Aemond is he—“

“No, no,” he replies quickly, one of his hands coming up to rest on your cheek, “he fought well, and he is alive,” he caresses your cheek as his eye meets yours, thinking how beautiful you look all worried about your husband, soon you’d be looking worried about him and not his brother.

“But…”

“But what? Is he hurt?” You grip his forearm tightly, looking up at him with tears stinging your eyes, “Tell me, please, Aemond, what’s happened to my husband?”

“He’s alive but on the brink of death. The traitor Rhaenys… your grace, such stories are not meant to be heard by a gentle soul like you—“

“I wish to know! What have they done to my husband?!” You demand him to tell you, and Aemond sighs deeply, but the buzz of excitement makes him even more determined.

Sweet lamb falling right into his trap.

“He took the skies quite suddenly, I had little time to meet him in the air. Meleys and her bitch of a rider had their claws in our king, and however fearsome he is, he could do naught.”

With each word that falls from his lips, more tears drop from your lashes, and he feels how numb you’re slowly getting in his arms.

“Sunfyre and Aegon… they survived Dragonfire, but—“

“Gods be good!” You gasp, a sob wrecking your body as he tries to shush you, a gloved finger reaching to wipe away your tears gently.

“I found him; burnt, broken but breathing,” he kisses your forehead, smirking against your skin, “he told me — had me promising him — to make haste and seek you out, to take care of your every wish.”

“Thank the gods!” You ask him, craning your neck to look into his eye, “What else did he say?”

He can’t answer you, not when you look at him with such a yearning, eyes full of tears and longing for condolences. He smooths his finger over your eyebrows, creasing your frown before he leans down and presses another kiss to your cheek.

“I could not say, he was weary, but…” his other hand comes to cup your face, “he told me to answer to your every whim, and that you should stay by my side until he has healed and help me rule.”

“But shouldn’t I take care of him?” You ask, eyes narrowing as he gently backs you up towards your bed, “Aemond, what are—“

“My queen, do you trust me?” He asks as he trails a path from your cheek to the column of your throat with his nose, “I will take care of you, all of your needs. That is what our king wanted, how cruel would we be if we do not obey his commands?”

“We would break his heart,” you whisper, inhaling sharply when he hovers his lips against yours, “we should do as he asks.”

“Hmm, yes, we should,” he closes the gap between the two of you, his lips moving along yours slowly for he feels how you quiver and meet his lips hesitantly.

He kisses you gently at first, hands moving down towards your waist to pull on the strings of your gown, long gloved fingers working on it until the red fabric loses its grip around your waist. Aemond pushes the gown off your shoulders, caressing your skin with the back of his hand before he lets your dress pool around your ankles.

His lips move against yours passionately, his tongue exploring your mouth for the first time, and he lets himself get lost in your taste — sweet with a tinge of lime, hinting that you’ve had lemon cake earlier.

He pushes you onto the bed after he helps you out of your shift, leaving you bare to his hungry gaze. He pulls his gloves off by his teeth, dropping each on the floor next to your discarded clothes, soon to be followed by his belt and dagger.

He can hear the rumbles of his men walking back to the city, but now all his attention is on you, and how he has to take what he has promised himself.

Aemond doesn’t take his clothes off, he would if he were a lesser man, but now, he’s determined, ready to take the promised prize and faith the Gods have granted him — but no god is intelligent enough to set you as his prize. It’s always been him and his schemes.

He pushes his leather pants down enough to free his aching cock, swiping his finger across your wet slit, eliciting a moan out of both of you as he keeps rubbing your pearl firmly, basking in your whines of pleasure.

His free hand strokes himself to full hardness, thinking of your upcoming wedding night and how he’d take you in front of the council on the bedding from behind, chaining you to him like the religion that has chained his mother to the Seven.

You fist the bedsheets, back arching as soon as he covers your body with his and guides his cock to your soaked entrance. He watches how your lips part in a silent plea when he breaches your cunt, groaning as soon as your walls envelop his length.

“Oh, Aemond—“You reach for him desperately when he sheathes himself inside you completely, not letting you adjust to his size for more than a mere second before setting up his pace, bullying his cock deep inside you with each smooth stroke.

It’s empowering to see you all nude and luscious on your bed taking his cock like you were shaped just for him to do so — maybe you were made for him, molded into this perfect lady to be desired and cherished by him.

“Aren’t you the most beautiful queen the realm has ever seen?” He asks, his eye is hazy with lust as he fucks you harder, finding deep pleasure in how he’s fully clothed and you are bare as the day you were born. He takes pride in having you putty in his hands.

He cages you under him, his lips slotting against yours once more as he licks his way into your mouth while he slams his shaft inside your tight cunt with abandon.

“Gods, oh– I’m— ah!”

“You only have one god, my darling, and that is me,” he groans against your lips, his leather coat brushing against your heated skin while the tip of his cock nudges against your sweet spot that has you seeing stars, “Worship me at your altar, just as your husband wanted.”

You come with a cry of his name, sending him over the edge with your sweet moans of euphoria. He bruises himself to a halt, emptying his sack with ropes of his cum inside you, making sure to make the next king of the Seven Kingdoms with his queen.

The way your face scrunches in pleasure has him almost coming again, knowing it was him who gave you such a blinding peak that has you shaking in his arms.

The sounds of footsteps rushing past your door to the King’s chambers have the two of you scurrying and parting from each other. You are clumsy with how you put on your dress with Aemond’s warm seed dribbling down your thighs, but your husband’s home, your king.

Aemond tucks himself back into his pants, following you out of your chambers into his brother’s only to find the maesters and his mother already there, tending to his burns and wounds.

“Aegon, my love—“ he doesn’t listen to what you say as you try to make room for yourself among the men, wanting to reach for your husband.

“Someone has to rule in his stead,” Aemond exclaims as he leans on the headboard of the bed, looking down at his handiwork before he catches your eyes as you smile with teary eyes at him, nodding to Alicent in encouragement.

“The gods have blessed him with intelligence for he would make a fine ruler, and he shall take care of me, just as our king desired.”

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen smut #hotd x reader #aemond smut #aemon x you #prince aemond targaryen #rue:smut #rue:darkcontent #dark aemond targaryen

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rhys-writes-some-shit · 1 year ago

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Cuddles

Alastor x Reader (QP)

You were always respectful of the fact that Alastor didn't like physical touch that he didn't initiate. You never asked why, never tried to force him otherwise, never even considered trying to touch him without his consent. This remained true for all the years you'd known him.

But sometimes it got really fucking difficult.

After a long day of work, then chores, then helping with the hotel, you were absolutely exhausted. And you still had dinner to look forward to. As much as you loved Al, his need for dinner formality really got on your nerves sometimes. At least the food was good.

Luckily, there was a little time where you could escape to your room. Closing the door behind you, you kicked off your shoes and dramatically collapsed onto the bed. As soon as your body hit the mattress, you wanted to stay there for the rest of eternity.

But that wasn't an option.

Groaning, you decided it wouldn't hurt to close your eyes for a moment. Besides, Alastor would want you to be lucid for dinner. Closing your eyes for a second would help.

"Ah, there you are." Distantly, you heard Alastor poke his head in the room. "I would like your input on supper, if you don't mind."

Unable to muster words, you made some unintelligible noises into the bed, curling up more with the blankets. Alastor's footsteps were muffled by the carpet, so you didn't know he was standing right next to you until he spoke.

"Seriously, darling, it is much too early to be sleeping. Don't be so dramatic."

A hand fell on your shoulder, probably to try and take the blankets off you. However, in your half-awake stupor, you shifted to grab the hand, pulling it towards you in an effort to pull some comfort out of it.

Your brain didn't compute what you'd just done for a full 30 seconds, until, suddenly, it hit you. Despite your exhaustion, you immediately let go of Alastor's hand and jerked to a sitting position.

"Al, I'm so, so sorry," you said, your voice sounding more tired than anything else. You ignored the way your eyes kept trying to close, Alastor's figure being nothing more than a red blur in front of you. "I didn't mean to. Give me a minute, I'll be down to help."

Alastor hummed, the contemplative hum you've learned to differentiate over time. Vaguely, you were aware that Alastor's smile softened a bit.

"I can spare ten minutes," Alastor finally said. "Move over, if you please."

You stared at him, blinking tiredly, struggling to understand what was happening.

Expectantly, Alastor motioned to the bed. "Nine minutes and thirty-five seconds."

Then it kicked in. Hastily, you moved over to the other side of them bed, giving enough room for Alastor to sit down with his back against the headboard.

Blankets curled around your shoulders, you sat there, hesitating.

"You may." Alastor answered the unspoken question. "For eight minutes and fifty-two seconds."

It was impossible to deny the smile that grew on your face as you crawled into Alastor's lap, resting your head on his chest and closing your eyes. Gently, Alastor wrapped his arms around you, holding you.

Wrapped in blankets, leaning into Alastor's solid body, the darkness behind your eyelids enveloped you. It felt like you were floating, just your and Alastor, and nothing could ever harm you ever again. As long as you kept your breathing steady, everything would be okay.

Everything would be okay.

You were right; just closing your eyes for a few minutes helped immensely. It was even better that it was spent with one of your favorite people in all of Hell. And if Alastor "accidentally" forgot to keep track of the time, extending your cuddle for an extra two minutes, you weren't going to say anything.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin alastor #cuddles #reluctant cuddles #fluff #rhys-writes #alastor x reader queerplatonic

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ttsukiimi · 6 months ago

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────〃★ TR(EAT) YOUR GIRL RIGHT .ᐟ

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩. ⎯ When his day hasn’t been going well, there’s only one thing that will lift Nanami’s spirit—and that’s eating his wife out on the kitchen counter good.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⎯ Nanami x fem!reader, established relationship, smut (mdni), cunnilingus, kitchen sex, orgasm denial, reader referred to as (love, sweetheart.)

Nanami’s day had been rough—a disaster even. Nothing he’d planned out had went accordingly. But as he shut the front door closed a little too hard from his pent up stress, mind wondering, Nanami smiled—eating you out on the kitchen counter was something he could look forward to.

“Kento!” you squealed, jumping a little as his strong arms wrapped around your waist, engulfing you whole. His scent wafted into your nostrils, prompting your body to relax from the familiar, soothing smell.

You grinned, warming up to his touch, though something felt a little off—he didn’t speak.

“Bad day?”

Nanami only hummed, too lost in his thoughts to speak, and pressed himself further into you—making sure that you felt the growing imprint of his cock against your ass.

And you did—shivering as his hardness pressed the soft fat. Bitting your lip as you let out a tiny moan from the feel.

Nanami’s hands made quick work of finding the hem of your shorts, thick fingers sliding down, down, down to where he knew he’d find that little wet spot on your panties. Without a word he’s swiping his digits against your folds, groaning in your ear, thumbing at your pulsing clit.

“On the counter, love.”

You’re there before you know it—moaning before you know it as his mouths on you, sucking, licking, slurping. Your breath caught in your throat and you whined, pulling at his hair in–a plea for more, desperation?

You couldn’t tell amongst the haze clouding in your mind.

“Ken..” you breathed, spreading your legs further to accommodate the size of his body between them. Nanami’s veiny hands gripped at your thighs, holding you down in a way that you could only describe as a guarantee that you wouldn’t be able squirm away.

At least, not until he’s had his fill.

His licks faltered for a second and you whimpered, fingers carding through his soft hair, gripping, pulling him closer to your pussy. “Please.”

You felt a smile grow against your skin, and he removed his mouth completely, robbing you of the sweet heat that fueled your oncoming orgasm.

Your hips bucked into his face on instinct, so desperately, like he was an utter necessity. Fat tears swelled in your eyes, but Nanami’s indifferent expression only seemed to deepen—he was really teasing you.

“Please,”

“‘Please’, what sweetheart? Tell me what you want.” He mumbled, looking up at you, eyes glossy, lips shining so lewdly in your slick—a little cocky smirk growing on them.

“Wan’ you, Ken. Your mouth.” you begged, gazing into his eyes with that innocent, doe-eyed desperation you knew he couldn’t resist. Pushing his head towards your needy cunt.

And Nanami gave in—he was only a simple man after all.

His plump lips trailed up, up to your knee, then kissed back down so excruciatingly slow, so meticulously calculated, your pussy began to sob in response. Craving that delicious release.

Once his hot mouth had finally reached your awaiting heat, the contact of his tongue lapping at you felt all too heavenly. You swore you were floating.

The way he slurped at your puffy clit was maddening, while his tongue circled it and his thumb drew the nub in lazy figures.

This was really just what he needed after such a day.

And the telling of your high came in sudden little bursts of pleasure, starting from your lower stomach, making its way to your cunt. Your body squirmed, your moans nearing their crescendo as you came. Hard.

Seems like you needed this too.

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quimichi · 1 year ago

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╰┈➤ ❝ [YOU ASK THE GENSHIN BOYS TO BE YOUR EQUAL]

❝ Every genshin boy, even our forgotten cyro user Mika ❝

Word count: 7.301

Genshin boys x Creator!Reader

Aether

Aether rises to his feet in a flourish, and walks towards your voice, the voice that so sweetly called for him. The Traveler is always so graceful— even when he's doing something as simple as walking towards you. It's the movement of the air around him, and the way his feet seem to float over the ground.

"Yes? You have summoned me, your Grace?"

"Do you know my biggest wish?" Aether thinks for a moment, pondering over every word that leaves your lips as if it were an endless source of inspiration for one of his compositions. He hums softly under his breath, trying to determine your true, deepest desires. "Perhaps I could take a guess..." Aether says gently, before he starts listing them in his mind. "Is your wish... for peace?"

"That too" you giggle, you haven't thought about that. Aether continues to think about other possibilities, before he eventually leans forward slightly and asks: "...could your biggest wish have anything to do with... love?" Hes so scared that he whispers, what if the guess was wrong?

"Yes, in fact, it has to do with you" Aethers breath grows lighter, hearing your words. His pulse beats louder and louder within his ears, the sensation of your gaze alone setting his entire body ablaze. He smiles softly; a faint glow of pink touches his cheeks.

"I... I think I understand what your wish might be...but I'm not sure" "I...wanted you to...be my equal, to be with me" He freezes immediately. He can't help but look at you with a mixture of surprise and wonder. You want him... to be your equal? You...love him that much? The very fact that your words are even a possibility sends waves of euphoria throughout his body, so much so that he can think of nothing else. It's just you and him at this very moment.

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with nothing but devotion. What is he going to do about this? "What do you say, will you stay by my side as i love you?" you're just as nervous as him, if not even more nervous with the request you just had. Aether smiles gently, his gaze filled with love. "Of course," he says quietly. "I... I would love to. It would be my greatest pleasure, to be your equal, your chosen one; to be the one you love." He cups your face in his hands and pulls you close in his embrace. "Yes, your Grace, m-my love, I am yours. I belong to you."

Albedo

"Albedo, come here, i want to talk to you." "Y-Yes, my grace?" Albedo's voice has a tremble to it. You feel him take a few small steps closer, and he seems to be doing it on his own accord, as if drawn by your request.

"You don't know my biggest wish, hm?" "M-My grace...," Albedo says slowly, almost uncertain as what your request may be. He takes a moment to think about your question, yet he seems to have an idea. You feel him tense, even as he stands motionless in place-- perhaps waiting for you to finish your sentence. "Do you wish for my service? A certain research?" He asks softly. "To be by your side for eternity, and to carry out your wishes...always?"

His voice trails off into a whimper as if he were hoping to hear you say something else entirely. Or exactly that. "Well, kind of" you said to the last. Albedo's breath catches in his chest. "Kind of...?" He seems a bit confused for a second, his eyes wandering over your face as if to get a clear reading of your current thoughts. He waits for your response, but he seems unsure as to what you mean by it.

"Kind of...?" He repeats, his voice softer.

"I want you as my side forever, as my equal...as my lover..." A hush falls over the room for a moment as Albedo stares at you in shock. His face has gone pink, and his lips have parted to breathe as if unable to remember how to swallow his own spit. His brows are furrowed as if he's unable to properly comprehend your words. He doesn't speak, but his breath is caught, and there's an almost panicked flush that seems to burn on his face that he desperately tries to cover up as good as he can with his blond hair.

"So...?" you timidly ask. "F-For me to... to be your equal? As your... your lover?" Albedo stares at you again, yet his gaze soon falls to the floor in shame. His tongue rubs against the roof of his mouth as he struggles to find the words to say. He always knows what to say, after all he has the vocabulary, but not now.

Still, finally... he utters out, his voice soft... "...Yes. Y-Yes, my...love," Albedo whispers, and his voice is quiet and raspy with emotion. He seems hesitant, yet he's certain of one thing and only one thing. "I am your lover, and your equal." Every word is heavy and carries an almost reverent tone to them.

He looks back up at you, his eyes filled with a quiet sort of intensity. His words are soft and hushed, as if they're a private prayer for you alone. "My love, my only love"

Al-Haitham

"I need to talk to you..." "Yes," he croaks immediately, his chest swelling as he takes a breath. His every sense is attuned to your command, but he can't shake the weird feeling after the words off. "Of course." Al-Haitham rises to his feet and slowly approaches you, careful to not come close to crossing any lines. His every move is carefully calculated to serve you.

"Do you know my biggest wish, a need of mine?" "No," he says, his voice still shaking slightly. "I would be honored to know," he speaks honestly, always so serious around you. "I want you to be my lover, my equal, by my side..." Your words cause Al-Haitham's heart to throb in his chest. There is a part of him that cannot believe that this is happening.

His entire world revolves around you. He was designed to be yours, to serve you. After all this time, love grew. And now, you are giving him a higher purpose, even higher than loving you already. It is almost too much for him to bear.

He nods his head. "My only wish has always been to be by your side. To love you, to have you love me was already a wish come true...but to have you as mine entirely..."

"So, it's a yes?" "Yes," he confirms quickly. His words fall on you like the weight of the world, but Al-Haitham speaks without hesitation.

His whole being shudders and vibrates, the energy from his words rushing through him like a torrent.

"I am yours. I wish to be yours" always so formal, so serious.

Ayato

"Oh, my lady, my grace..." Ayato whispers, and he steps towards you until he's standing right in your face. You can see the slight tremble in his hands yet they manage to hold steady. Never is he ever nervous, not to thagt extent that is. His eyes are wide and the pupils dialated in awe, yet there's a calm sort of fire burning within their midst as if waiting to lash out.

His lips part as he opens his mouth to say something, but he doesn't say anything, his mind still unable to catch up to yours. "M-My love..." Ayato's voice is quiet, soft, a near whisper. He leans forward, the tips of his fingers brushing against your cheek.

"Yes... yes..." His eyes search yours in awe. He seems to almost be at a loss for words as he takes in your form, the soft skin of your cheek in his fingers and the fire in your eyes.

You're too beautiful.

"What do you say, be mine, be my equal, hm~?" "Your Equal... you mean?" Ayato's voice comes out as a whisper. A moment passes as he tries to figure it out. "Your equal?"

"Then...i will, i want to" Ayato seems to nod his response before he utters another, more daring word. "As your lover." He says it almost as if he's hoping to hear it in return.

"Exactly, as my lover" "Y-Your lover," Ayato whispers, as if repeating the sentence allows him to take in the gravity of your words. After a quick breath, he seems to nod his answer.

"Yours and yours alone."

Baizhu

Baizhu obeys your command without word or hesitation. He approaches without question, his movements as soft and silent as falling snow. "So...uhm" Baizhu stops in his tracks, awaiting your orders.

He bows his head, waiting for your guidance.

"My Grace?" he prompts. "Do you...know my biggest wish, for us?" Baizhu is silent for a moment. "I want what you want," he tells you truthfully, his words firm and honest.

"Whatever that may be, I'll do what I can to grant your wish." He stares at you with intense devotion, and a sly smile. "I wish for you to be my very equal" he remains quiet.

Your words wash over him like a quiet wave, leaving him without a voice. He considers your proposition in silence. He never imagined this moment, but his heart feels full at the thought... he never knew he wanted it until you offered it. "I'd like that, too," he whispers. He is still on his knees, his eyes turned towards you. "I'm not sure if I could be someone like you... but I'd like to try." "No,as my lover Baizhu" "As your lover?"

He says these words quietly, but his voice is tinged with a hope that he thought long extinguished. He can feel his heart growing heavy in his chest... he thought you would never see him as your equal... let alone something more. He has loved you for so long, and now?

He gazes up at you with a pleading look, almost afraid to hope that your words are true.

"You would truly want such a thing for me?" Baizhu's breath catches in his throat at this confirmation. His heart soars with joy. He thought this moment was impossible, but here it was, happening before him.

He would say "yes" in return, to swear his loyalty. But instead, he does something else... in a moment of pure joy, he leans forward and presses his lips against yours. He lost control completely, something that never happens.

"Oh...I've waited so many year's for this day to finally come"

Bennett - aged up

"Y-Yes," Bennett says quickly, eager to please you. His voice is soft and reverent, and as soon as he hears your words his cheeks flush slightly. In a quick motion the lucky unlucky boy rises to his feet, his hair whipping around him gracefully like a gust of wind.

Within seconds, he finds himself in front of you, awaiting further instructions. His expression is fixed on you, waiting for what comes next; it is clear that he is devoted to serving you in as many ways as possible.

"Say," you giggle "are you good at guessing?" "I like to think so, your Grace," Bennett says eagerly. He is never one to boast of his knowledge or skills, but he is always confident in his own abilities. If he wouldn't, then maybe he'd drown in his own insecurities. "Would you like me to guess something for you?" he asks, his gaze fixed intently on you. "Then, guess my biggest wish" a little game never hurted anybody. Bennett blinks and shifts his weight to one foot, thinking for a moment. "I believe I could hazard a few guesses," he says slowly, still pondering the possibility. But then, his voice changes to something more confident and assured.

"Your Grace, would it be correct to guess that your biggest wish would be to find happiness with the person you love? Perhaps someone who you know, but can never be with?"

"Almost right, I wish for you to he my lover, my very equal" Without hesitation, Bennett gives out a little squeak of delight and blushes. He takes a step closer to you and looks at you, seemingly unable to contain just how giddy your words have made him.

"Do you really mean it?" he whispers, his expression a mix between shock, excitement, and pure, breathless adoration. "I... I..."

The Adventurer is at a loss for words, seemingly incapable of saying anything more. His mind races, trying to make sense of this dream come true. "I say yes! Absolutely, your Grace! I would be honored to share my time, my life, my very existence with you. Your love and happiness is all I could ever possibly need."

Childe

Childe's lips curl in a faint smile. "Of course I'll get closer" he says slowly. His steps are measured and subtle, but he moves forward without hesitation. He kneels at your feet, looking up at you with that same glittering gaze he's always had.

His eyes are hot, and his lips are parted. He is waiting for your permission. "I've got something to tell you..." For a brief moment, that little smile fades. Childe's ears 'perk up' and his face turns a faint pink. His hair sways slightly as he breathes slowly. "Y-yes, Your Grace?" He speaks, breathless words. He is attentive. He wants to hear your every word with all of his being. His gaze is soft and imploring.

"Since a while I've been wanting to tell you that...my feelings for you can no longer be kept a secret...I want you for myself, as my very equal" Childe's eyes shimmer. "Y-your equal, Your Grace?" He says the words in a quiet voice, breathless and eager. His ears flutter, and his tail wags ever so slightly in his excitement.

He seems unable to contain his feelings, and in an instant, his lips are pressed against yours. His arms wrap around your neck and his hands run through your hair. His touch is hot. So, so hot. Childe presses himself against you tightly, and pulls you closer.

"I have always belonged to you, Your Grace."

Childe pulls away slightly after the kiss. He smiles up at you, his ears still fluttering. He brushes a stray hair from your face gently, and his fingers are as hot as fire. "I want you to be my partner, my equal," he says quietly. "My equal in every situation. And everywhere in between." His words carry the weight of his desires— and his dedication to you.

"Your command is always the only thing that I want," he says. "All you need to do is ask, and I will take you."

"Please...be it"

"Then so be it"

Chongyun - aged up

"Oh, finally, there you are! Please, come closer" Chongyun slowly rises and steps forward, each step measured and deliberate. With each stride he moves closer to you, his expression remains as neutral as your words. "Yes, Your Grace?" He asks. "Do you know my deepest desire?" Chongyun hesitates. How could he know something so personal to you— your very desires?

But when he sees your watchful gaze bore into him, he realizes that in this moment, honesty is the only option.

He swallows, his voice soft, almost a whisper: "No, Your Grace... but I wish I did."

"You wish?" You giggle at that, he's to cute for his own good. "...Yes." Chongyun doesn't think twice before he responds. He is silent, but his focus is on you. He listens with rapt attention, waiting for you to speak.

"I want you by my side, as my equal. Preferably forever..." Chongyun blinks. He has thought about being by your side before, has craved to be by your side before. But as your equal? He has never wanted anything so much.

And yet, what if he can't measure up to your standards? He knows he is no archon. He knows hes not as special as others. He is just a cyro exorcist. "I..." Chongyun whisper. "... I want that too." Chongyun's breath catches in his throat. Despite his attempts to seem composed, despite his seemingly cold demeanor, the sight of you smiling at him flusters him.

It feels real, he thinks, and it's more than he ever dared hope for.

Cyno

Cyno hesitates but moves closer. His feet move silently against the ground. His hands remain clasped tightly in front of his lap. He bows his head, eyes downcast as he approaches. He waits at your side. He waits for your command.

He is yours. Always has been.

For so many year's he has been by your side, eventually even forming a more intimate relationship.

"Cyno, i called you for a reason" he remains silent. He waits for you to continue as he kneels beside your seat. He knows his place well and does not ask further questions. He waits silently. And this is exactly what has been annoying you for so many years, he doesn't knows his equal place beside you.

"I want you to be my equal, not my servant, you're my lover after all." Cyno stops breathing. His stomach twists itself into a knot as his emotions overtake him. He's never considered this possibility.

His eyes flutter as he blinks in surprise, his brain not comprehending what you're saying for a moment. He has always seen himself as lesser, beneath you. He has never seen himself as an equal in any way, let alone a true normal lover. But you're saying this so casually. Do you mean it?

Do you truly see him as an equal? Finally, Cyno finds his voice. He swallows down his emotions, looking at you earnestly. His words are soft as he answers, though they do not carry the tone of a servant anymore. Instead, his voice is quiet and soft.

"It's also my wish," he says, eyes still cast down. "To be your equal, if you see me as that i will be it"

With his words, the weight he has been carrying falls off of his shoulders. You do value him as an equal, and he is yours, finally fully your love.

Dainsleif

"Dainsleif..." "Yes, Your Grace." Dainsleif speaks with respect whenever he addresses you. Your authority is absolute. Your word is his law. And your love is the air he breathes.

"There's something i need to talk with you about" it sounded more serious than it actually should. Indeed, it's serious but not the bad serious. Dainsleif's heart stops when you speak. Every hair on the back of his neck stands up. Suddenly, the world is reduced to just you. Your words send a surge of electricity through his body, causing his blood to sing a chorus of your name. His mind goes blank.

He would do anything for you, anything at all.

"Your Grace, tell me." Dainsleif's voice is like velvet, as he waits for you to speak. "Anything."

"Lately I've been thinking...if maybe" you make a pause, unsure if it's the right moment or not. But better now than never, "I want you to be my equal, my lover, by my side" Dainsleif's heartbeat quickens. His breath hitches in his throat. All he can do is nod in response to your words. That is his life's purpose. To be your equal. Your lover.

You are his grace. You are his beauty. You are his love. "Is...that a yes?" Dainsleif's expression warms the very air around him. His eyes shine like gems, the pupils dilated with a fervor that is so intense, it feels as though he is on the brink of exploding into a shower of confetti and rose pedals.

He nods again, a huge grin splitting his face in half.

"Yes."

Diluc

He obeys you wordlessly. He takes a step forward and kneels before you, staring up at you with a reverence he'd always reserved for you, and only you. Whatever he had been before, whomever he had worshipped- it had all been mere folly, a shallow attempt at finding his purpose.

Now, he's finally found it. In you. Also his true love. "I have something important to tell you, or rather, ask you" "Yes, Your Grace?" Dilucs voice is as eager as a dog at the scent of a bone, his heart thundering with joy at your words. With the expression on you, it has to be something good.

"Will you be ready to be my equal? Mine, by my side?" The question makes his eyes go wide as moons, his brain processing your words before they finally land. Finally come true. You're asking what he's been waiting for. "Yes," he answers, nodding furiously as if the word itself is burning on his tongue. "Of course," he continues. "I will be your equal. I am yours, Your Grace....my...love." The happiness he feels at your words is as overwhelming as a tsunami pounding against a shore. He had always been happy in your presence, but now it's like his body is flooded with pure joy. He feels as if he might cry.

He might actually cry; a single, solitary tear rolls down his face. It's all he wants - to be yours, and now that you have offered it to him, he is beyond words. He waited so long for this, for so many year's he had to listen to everyone telling him its impossible. But now it's true...

Freminet

Freminet doesn't know what to do when you move closer. His mind is suddenly blank, and his chest feels heavy. He meets your gaze, his heart fluttering in his chest and his fingers trembling. His gaze wanders down your body as if mesmerized by you and your closeness.

It's clear that he was not expecting this. The only thing Freminet can do is gaze at you needly, awaiting your next action. "What would you say, if I'd as you to be my equal, be mine?" You don't wanna pressure him, make him feel like he needs to make a decision. Freminet doesn't respond immediately. His face breaks out into a flush and his heart skips, almost to a stop. He swallows, his throat suddenly dry.

He wants to deny your request. He knows that he can't possibly be your equal. He's nowhere near perfect as you; he's only a human after all. Some random, insecure, weak and emotional human. But he looks at you, and he is mesmerized by you. Just as much as he is mesmerized by Fontaines waters, maybe even more by you.

"Y-Your Grace," he murmurs, stuttering as he swallows. "There's nothing...I'd love...more...than...to be yours." "Then be it" Freminet's eyes sparkle, and his face breaks out into a smile. He reaches out, gripping your hand and squeezing it tight. He wants to bury his face into you. After his worship of you, he wants *this.* The touch, the heat of your skin — it's perfect. He doesn't want this moment to end. He wants to drown in you...

"I'm yours" he whispers, "Always...and forever."

"Always and forever" Freminet looks back at you again, his heart swelling and his face flushed with warmth. He leans in, not caring who watches, not caring if it might seem weird— all he wants is to be as close to you as possible. And so with all of his adoration, he presses his lips against your's— and for the first time in his life, he feels a sense of completeness.

In your presence, he feels as though he's truly home. The home to return to.

Gorou

His mind races. He's on your lap— close to you. He can feel you breathing, he can feel the warmth of your breath against his cheeks. He feels your hand caress his cheek, your touch so light and gentle. It's making his tail wag even more. Gorous eyes follow your touch. He wants to touch you. He wants to be with you. He wants to be yours.

As these desires run rampant through his mind, he can scarcely keep still. And youre about to fulfill these desires of his.

"Gorou...I want you to be mine entirely, be my equal" his mind stops dead in its tracks. You want this? You want him to be your equal? You want him to be *yours*? Gorou's heart pounds against his chest, his eyes wide with hope. This is everything that he's wanted, more than anything.

His hands grip tightly against your shirt, his breathing uneven. He doesn't dare speak. He only stares at you, waiting for your next words. "Are you...ok with that?" Gorou's eyes widen further. Yes— this is what he wants, more than anything right now. So, with trembling hands, he grabs your wrists, pulls you close, and presses his lips to yours.

Gorou has never felt so alive. With every heart beat, every breath, every pulse in his veins he can feel his love for you. His devotion, his adoration. With all of these emotions, his lips are soft yet demanding, and he pours them onto you.

He doesn't want to stop kissing you, but he's afraid of messing it up. "I want it, s'much. Wanna be yours"

Heizou

Heizou steps forward, trembling in expectation as he closes the distance between you two. Heizou's heart is beating like mad. He shifts his weight from side to side anxiously as he waits for you to pull him closer. As he waits for any word to leave your mouth, clearly you called him for a important reason.

"I called you here because there's something important that needs to be talked about." Heizou swallows, and his voice is quiet when he responds. He cannot recall anything form the last meetings that might have displeased you. "What is it, Your Grace?" He's doing his best to remain composed, but his body language is making it clear that he's utterly breathless. Every bit of him is focused on you. "It's nothing to bad, i promise" His breath catches in his throat. "Nothing to bad?"

Heizou is so earnest, so sincere, and so afraid. He is utterly submissive as he stands before you, waiting patiently for you to speak again. You can practically taste the anticipation. "I want you as my equal, as my lover and as my future." His lips part in surprise. "Your lover? Your equal?"

Heizou swallows. The air feels so thick that he can hardly breathe, but his heart is racing. He's already lost in the idea of being your equal, your lover. "You... I..." His words falter.

"That would mean everything to me your Grace..."

Itto

The words echo in his head like an order: Come closer

With no hesitation and a mind that is now completely blank of thought, he stands and obeys, approaching you without another sound. "Itto?" His breath hitches in his chest as soon as you say his name. He can tell that whatever the question is, it is *very* important.

"Yes?" Itto responds simply, waiting for you to continue. He remains still, his mind on standby as he awaits your command. Completely different than he usually is. "Are you ready to be mine? Be my equal?" Itto pauses at your words. He doesn't believe that a being such as himself could ever be on the same level as you, but... Your words seem to suggest otherwise. Yes, he is the great Arataki Itto, but he isn't you, not even close. You believe him to be of the highest equal, and that thought is enough to leave him breathless.

He is speechless and still, taking in the magnitude of your words. He can hardly breathe. Then, slowly…

"Yes." He whispers softly, his voice so quiet that it seems like a thought rather than a whisper. "Forever." As Itto sees you smile, his entire being relaxes; that was the right answer, for both of you that seems. He is relieved beyond measure. Your smile is enough for him to stay happy for centuries.

He is still a bit breathless with how much he wants to speak his love for you, but he manages to utter something:

"I love you." His voice carries a new air of sincerity, a new devotion to his tone.

"Only you"

Kazuha

"Hmm?" Kazuha asks, his attention instantly captured. He seems almost lost within his own world-- one in which you are the only thing that exists. "Yes, Your Grace?" Kazuha asks. He sits up slightly, his face lit with an almost beatific glow. His eyes are fixed entirely on you, taking in every little detail about you as he waits for what you have to say. He is your devoted follower-- your loyal vassal. Nothing more, nothing less. Yet...

"Whatever the request might be, i will fulfill it my grace" "Then be my equal" "Your Grace...?" Kazuha's voice is quiet, almost hushed as he tries to understand what you wish of him. He doesn't know how to respond-- he was built for love; and he loves you truly...but is he enough for you? "Your Grace... what you wish of me..."

He still looks up at you, an almost childlike eagerness to understand your desires. "I would do anything... for you..." It's sounds more like hes accepting an order, but that's quite the opposite. In fact, he waited for this day to finally come, where he can freely express his love.

"I love you, my breeze" Kazuha pulls you into a tight embrace. It's the embrace that so many have desired, for so many centuries, and he got it. But with Kazuha, it is not born of a desire for power, for strength, for control...

No.

It is born from a devotion borne of love.

"My love," Kazuha whispers in your ear. He seems unable to contain the heat that rises on his face, the rush of pure euphoria that spreads throughout him.

"I'm yours and yours alone."

Kaeya

Kaeya immediately obeys, resting his head on your thigh, after you gave him the order to come closer. He looks up at you, a content smile splitting his face. "Kaeya?" Kaeya's heart skips a beat upon hearing your voice, again. He doesn't expect you to say anything, and it leaves him off-guard.

"Yes?" he whispers, meeting your gaze. "I got a question for you" Kaeya tilts his head slightly, but he doesn't move otherwise.

"I'm listening." "I want you to be my love. To be by my side as my equal." Kaeya's eyes widen, the breath catching in his chest. It's every fantasy and dream he's ever had rolled up into one simple word. "Yes," he says, as though nothing else even deserves to be considered. "My love-!?... yes, yes, I do." Kaeya's head tilts back as he stares up at you, the softest gasp leaving his lips. His hands slide up your leg, his fingers grasping at the hem of your robes.

He can't help himself from reaching for you, his movements impulsive but genuine. After months of keeping everything bottled up and pretending that he'd only ever desired you, he's finally allowed the freedom to act on his feelings. Kaeya's heart thunders in his chest, his breath quickening. He's on the verge of losing control of himself completely.

"Your Equal," Kaeya breathes. "I love you so much"

Kaveh

With lightning speed, Kaveh obeys your simple order as if you are the only command that is present in this universe. He scoots closer, pressing up against you like an adoring animal. His eyes glitter fiercely, and he stares at you like he can't believe this is real. "Kaveh, i need to talk to you" He nods rapidly, a smile wide and eager on his face. "Of course, Your Grace. What do you need?" His voice is light and eager, like an attentive butler prepared to do your bidding. "Speak, and I shall listen."

"We've known each other for so long now..." Kavehe's face is lit up with joy. His mouth widens into a dazzling grin as you remind him of your long relationship. "Yes!" He says, his voice cracking slightly. "Since you have asked me to renovate this palace you call home." He says all of that without irony, as your faithful subject. "I want you to be my equal. Be equal to me and have all my love" He pauses for a moment, searching for the right words.

"It would be like a dream come true." He says it in a whisper, his voice cracking slightly. "I know I'm not your equal, not by miles... " He looks away for a moment.

"But if only...Your Grace, you are my sun, my star, my salvation. My Muse. All I want is to be yours. If you will have me as yours, i want you as mine"

Lyney

"Lyney, my favorite magician~" "Y-Your favorite Magician?" Lyney gasps, staring up at you with sprakling eyes. He has never felt more overjoyed in his life, even though all you gave was a single word of affirmation. Favorite.

He is too overcome with happiness to speak anymore. He simply leans up towards you, wanting to rest his head against you— like a dog nuzzling up to its owner. "There's something I need to tell you though" "Anything," he answers instantly, not needing time to think it over. You have his immediate permission to ask anything at all.

If he has a limit to his worship and respect of you, it hasn't been found yet. And it never will.

"I...want you, as mine. My very equal, by my side only. Would that be ok with you?" "Y-Your equal?" Lyney repeats, his voice a hushed whisper. He's been dreaming of this— he's been dreaming of being at your side since the day you met. He would be nothing without you, without your light to guide him. To be with you, to be equal to you is the only thing he could possibly want.

He nods eagerly, his entire body trembling with joy and anticipation. He stares up at you, tears falling down his cheeks. He can barely breathe with the intensity of his adoration for you. Whatever this moment is— this moment where he gets to confess his love and be your equal, his equal— is the most powerful and loved he has ever been.

Lyney looks up at you, waiting for you to say something. Anything. To tell him how to behave, what is right and what is wrong.

"What is... what next..?" He is practically begging you for guidance.

"Our future"

Mika - aged up

As your words echo in his ears, Mika shudders slightly. He can't bear the tension any longer— so he gets closer to you, his eyes glued to your face. I hope I didn't disappoint them...what if i did? What if...they don't want me here anymore...?

Mika tries to speak, but he can't form the words. His entire body vibrates with excitement as he remains inches away from you. He can feel your breath on his skin, and he feels faint with delight. Despite that, he can't stop staring at you. "M-My grace i-..."

"No need to be nervous, Mika" you softly giggle at his stuttered words. Mika feels his cheeks flush with heat at your words, but he doesn't dare protest. "I could never be nervous, Your Grace." Mika says, his eyes still locked unto your face. "I feel— safe with you. I feel at peace."

Mika's voice trembles as he speaks, but his eyes never leave your face. He doesn't look away, even as his heart races. He can't bring himself to leave your side. "There's something I wanted to ask you..." Mika swallows, his curiosity piqued.

"Yes?" He gazes at you. "Anything, Your Grace. You know you can ask for anything."

His whole body seems to hum, as if in anticipation of what you're about to say. "Is it ok for you...to be mine? Entirely and fully mine, as my equal?" Mika's breath catches in his throat. His whole body freezes, and his face goes pale. His gaze drops to the floor, and his shoulders tremble. His lips part as he takes a breath, as if he's just received some earth-shattering news.

But as quickly as he's overwhelmed, he recovers and glances up at you. His expression looks as if he can't quite believe what he's hearing. "Equals?" Mika whispers, "You want us— to be equals?" "Yes"

"You...you would grant me the biggest honor to be yours entirely..." "So its a yes?" You ask again to be reassured.

"It's a yes"

Neuvillette

Neuvillettes eyes flicker slightly as you give him a command. He doesn't dare say a word as he shuffles closer to you. Once he's close enough, he slides across the marble until he is at your feet. His face continues to be pressed against the cold floors, though his breaths are quick with the pressure against his body. Still, he remains motionless, waiting to see what you will tell him to do next.

"I really wanted to talk to you" Neuvillette finally looks up at you as you speak. He doesn't answer right away, though he seems to nod almost in agreement. His gaze is locked on you as if he's trying to understand what you want from him.

"I love you so much, but you act to much as my servant. I want you as my equal, my true lover, not my servant." "Y-Your Grace?" Neuvillette asks in a voice that sounds oddly shaken. He seems to be at a loss at your words, confused by the sudden declaration you've given him.

Still, Neuvillette lowers his head again. He waits patiently for further command, even though his thoughts are filled with a maelstrom of emotions.

His heart feels like it's about to burst from his chest in its frenzy. Never in all his years has he ever felt such confusing feelings. He is at a loss for what to do next. But he craves for you to continue. He loves you, he truly does, but this is positively overwhelming him. "It... It's all I've ever wished for, Your Grace." His voice catches slightly in his throat.

"I have spent my whole life devoted to you. To your will. I have been your servant, I have been your soldier. I have been your warrior and your shield." He pauses, and when he speaks again, the passion in his voice is palpable.

"But I also wished for the day when I am your equal, your partner. Your soulmate. Your love. I cannot live without your love, Your Grace. And it finally came true"

Razor - aged up

The command is a little vague for Razor, and his eyes flicker in confusion for a moment, but he doesn't hesitate. Without a word, he gets down on his knees and crawls towards your feet. He stays on his knees, pressing himself up against your leg as he looks at you expectantly. "What is it?" He simply asks.

"Just wanna talk to you, thats all"

"O-Of course, Lupical can talk" Razor responds. He remains exactly where he is, his eyes wide and eager to hear your words, as he feels the heat from your leg against his face. "I want us to be more than just friends..." He freezes, eyes widened with surprise.

You want— something more than being friends? But— but how could anyone be anything more to you? His mind tries to comprehend why you would even want him. What you even want from him in the first place. "B-But...Lupical...No friends or family but...mates? Lovers?--" he whispers in confusion. "Exactly" All of his blood rushes to his face. What a request. You wanted him to be... your lover?

"...I am yours," he breathes, his voice trembling. No second thoughts about your words. As soon as you said it, he knew he wanted the same; to be with you and you alone. That's what you wanted to hear, isn't it?

"Lovers...we are lovers"

Scaramouche

He complies immediately, coming closer, his eyes wide as he approaches you. "How may I serve you, Your Grace?" He whispers, as he takes in your beauty once again. "I want to talk with you..." Scaramouche is careful to keep his breathing light, his face betraying nothing. To any passerby, he appears the same as always, but in truth he is burning. He wants to please you, to hear your concerns with him. Every fiber of his being craves your approval.

Whatever you have to say to him, he cannot wait to hear it. "You're my lover, but i also want you as my equal. My equal by my side, no one deserves it more than you." Scaramouche's heart soars the very instant you say the word "lover". His eyes soften. No matter how much he may try, he just *cannot* wipe away the flush in his cheeks. He knows he is already your lover, but hearing it from you feels sureal.

How does he deserve to be your lover, let alone your equal? Your love is a gift already. His heart can barely hold it without shattering. What if he fails, and disappoints you? The thought makes him freeze. Yet— yet he so badly doesn't want to deny you. Scaramouche realizes he was frozen in place. He didn't say that he agreed with you— but he couldn't disagree either. With every fiber of his being, he wants to say, "Yes, My Love, you are right." He deserves to be at your side.

"I would be honored," he says at last. He wants to shout, to cheer, to thank you, but all he can produce is a hoarse whisper. It's not his fault— you have taken away his voice.

"I...I love you"

Thoma

Thoma obeys in a flash. He stands up and walks towards you quickly but with a graceful step, stopping just inches from you. He looks at you, his face completely open to whatever you might say or do next. Thoma tilts his head, but he stays in place and waits patiently. It doesn't matter to him what you're thinking, or what sort of plans you have running through your mind; he just wants to be there with you.

"Thoma" "Yes, your Grace?" The Pyro user speaks without hesitation as soon as he hears you speak his name. He looks at you and smiles, his expression warm and loving; he waits to hear your words. "The last few day's I've been thinking..." "Oh?" Thoma cocks his head to the side, his expression curious and attentive. He steps a little closer and looks at you, waiting to hear what thoughts might've occupied your mind. "I want you as mine, me as yours, being equal to one another..." Thomas breath quickens at your words. Not a hint of hesitation appears on his face, and instead, he replies without delay: “I—I want that too, your Grace,” he says, his voice breaking in joy just moments after. For the most part of his life he has been a servant, but he wants to stay with you more than anything else, lover, servant or soldier, all that matters is you.

“You know I don’t want anything more in life but to be at your side, worshipping you.” His eyes flutter for a moment, and then, in a soft and steady tone, he adds; “I’m already yours.” he has never been so sure of something in his life.

"Oh?"

"I always was"

Tighnari

Tighnari does not hesitate. He scoots closer, until he is in arm's reach of you. He remains at your feet, his head bowed.

"You know you don't need to bow before me" "It's only natural for me to bow before you," he whispers. Tighnari waits for your next word, his mind utterly blank and his body still as a statue. He is unmoving, his breath still and his heartbeat slow. The only sign of life in this room is his gaze locked onto you. He feels the weight of your stare, his mind filled with thoughts of you and only you.

"Anyway...youre here because there's something i wanted to talk with you about" Tighnari does not move, but he does listen. His eyes wander over you, taking in every inch of your flesh. Finally he moved his head up.

"Yes?" He replies quietly, waiting patiently to hear your every word. "I want you. As my very equal, by my side here in the palace. My equal lover." Tighnari's eyes snap up, his cheeks flushed red. Blood surges in his veins as heat radiates off of his skin. And his ears start to twitch in surprise. A beat of total silence passes as Tighnari's mind races.

"M-me? Your equal?" A hint of a smile curls the corners of his lips, and the faintest trace of a blush can be seen on his flesh.

"Are you certain?" "Very"

Tighnari's mind is still reeling, but he does not dare to show too much emotion. He needs to hold control, or he would jump at you happily. He swallows down the lump in his throat as he thinks of his response.

"Of course. There's nothing i would love more than to be your equal, stay by your side and be considered yours" he truthfully says, a big smile now appearing on his face. It's all he can do. He will squeal in excitement after.

"My gra--my everything....for years I had saved my love and affection only for you..."

Venti

He is at your side almost instantly, his expression one of utter joy as he is allowed to be this close to you, like no one else ever will. The wind god is clearly doing his utmost to hold it together— and judging by how red his face is, he's struggling.

He smiles, and nods. "Yes, your Grace, I'm here" he says sweetly. "There's something I wanna talk about." You tell him as your hand starts to stroke his cheek. A slight gasp leaves Venti's lips of surprise. His face grows even redder as he looks up at you, his expression one of complete submission. He leans into your touch, as if he can't stand not to.

"*M-my grace*..." he breathes softly, just to hear his own words echo. "What is it that you want to talk about, your Grace?" "I want you as mine, for so long now I've been having those needs. The needs to have you as my very equal by my side." Venti blinks in surprise, but quickly looks back at you with the same devotion he would give a God. Your every need is my top priority, he thinks to himself. And my love for you is eternal.

He considers your statement for a few moments, but it's his nature to please you without hesitation. To love you as much as he can, he always did. "Y-yes, your Grace," Venti says slowly, as if the words are being ripped from his throat. If this is your wish, and your words are your command, then he would do it, happily. He makes it sound like a command, but its a reques, a request he would love to do. "I always belonged to you."

His expression melts with joy and amazement after the words start to sink in, and he hugs you as quick as he can. Venti leans into you, and his arms slowly slide around you. His heart feels as though it is going to explode in his chest.

He can feel your heartbeat, and his breath starts to hitch as the gravity of the situation is finally sinking in. His God, the one person he has ever loved— cares for him back. It's all he's ever wanted, something almost too fantastic to be true. The countless poems he wrote in your name, the countless songs and melodies he presented you and your followers with. The work payed of, and you love him as who he is.

The fact that you crave him, the anemo archon, the 'weakest' archon, makes him happy for eternity by your side.

Wriothesley

He immediately complies, his legs carrying him to where you are in the chamber. His mouth is dry, but he is focused only on you and the fact that he is here to serve you. He kneels before you in a display of obedience and deference, awaiting your command.

"You know I love you, right?" "I-" Wriothesley stops mid-sentence. His heart is pounding out of his chest, and he can hear the blood rushing in his ears. "Y-Yeah," he stammers. "Of course."

He bows his head as he speaks. He is almost trembling, his heart thrumming out of control. "And because of this, i want you as my equal, youre deserving of this title." "E-Equal?" Wriothesley's eyes are wide, still looking down. It's as if his heart stopped beating and he can only see stars. His voice is a whisper, barely above a whimper.

"I'd- I'd still be under you, wouldn't I?" He asks, his voice breaking. "That's not what equal means, silly" Wriothesley looks up, meeting your gaze for the first time in a long while. He has tears in his eyes, but he doesn't try to make you notice. "Oh, yeah..." he whispers. "But- but I-

He trails off. He can't comprehend the fact that he is no longer in your service, but is in fact now an equal. His knees have lost their purpose, and he stands tall, still in awe. His mind tries to wrap around his new position.

Wriothesley looks at you, his heart skipping a beat. When he looks at you, he feels the universe collapse into a singular point, with all light being drawn into your eyes.

"Thank you," he says quietly. His voice is shaky, and his throat feels like it's on fire. He reaches out to gently hold your hand, to reassure himself that you're real.

"For finally having me as yours, truly"

Xiao

At once, Xiao's body responds. He's desperate for your approval. Like a dog on a leash, he moves towards you blindly, his desire to please you taking precedence over whatever self-preservation instinct he has left. He makes it to you, his breathing fast and ragged. He lowers himself down to the ground, pressing his forehead against your feet. He takes a shaky breath. "Yes, yes Your Grace." He whispers, his voice breaking a little. "You've called for me?" "Xiao," you gently call, "please stand up"

Xiao stands up, still keeping his head bowed. "Yes, Your Grace." His breath is heavy and ragged, as he stares down at you. His voice is almost a whisper.

He wants to do anything to please you, but his sense of propriety prevents him from doing anything else. Xiao's eyes meet yours, and he blinks rapidly, trying to hold eye contact. "I love you so much, and i want...need you as my equal." Xiao's eyes widen, and he stares at you in awe. He never thought he would hear you say these words.

"Your Grace..." he whispers softly, "You can't mean that!" The words are barely audible. "I'm but a servant, born to worship you, Your Grace— I'm incapable of being your equal..."

He wants to speak more, but his love for you makes the words catch in his throat. "You're deserving of it" Xiao's face is a mask of confusion. Your words make him forget himself. He stands motionless, his throat tight, and his breath heavy. When he speaks, his voice is a whisper.

"Your Grace... I'm not deserving of these words... I'm nothing without you... I can't be... worthy enough to be your equal..." He trails off, but his gaze remains fixed on you, as if waiting for you to prove him wrong.

"You are" At first Xiao can't respond. The thought of being treated as your equal— the thought that he might be loved by you, without having to worship you— is unfathomable. His eyes are full, and he's trembling under the weight of your words. When he does speak, his voice is barely audible.

"Your Grace... you mean it?" Xiao's eyes stay on you, looking for a sign that he's dreaming.

"Yes." At last, Xiao's eyes widen and light up. "Your Grace... " he breathes, his voice choked with so much joy and relief that it's barely audible.

Xiao can't help himself. Without thinking, he takes a step forward and pulls you into a tight hug. His arms tighten around you, his grip too strong, as if he's afraid of losing you. Xiao's grip grows even tighter— as if he can't bear the idea of letting you go. His eyes are wide and filled with tears, which run down his cheeks when he presses his face into your chest.

"Your Grace..." he whispers, his voice filled with joy and relief. "You have no idea how long I've waited to hear those words... my love for you is too strong to express in words, Your Grace... it's more than worship, more than devotion— I adore you. I love you"

Xingqiu - aged up

Xingqiu stands, nodding silently before he moves to you. His hands are clasped behind his back as he waits in anticipation for your orders, unable to bring himself to raise his head out of respect for your authority. He seems perfectly content where he is, awaiting your command. His voice is steady but soft-- almost like a whisper-- as he speaks. The sound is quiet and reserved, but is filled with something akin to awe. He almost seems like a different person than the book lover as he speaks. "Y-Yes, Your Grace?"

"You are aware of my love for you, yes?" He is stunned by your words. It takes him a moment to process, only nodding silently as his face flushes pink. He swallows, trying to regain his composure, but even the quietness of his actions speak. "Y-Yes, Your Grace." He keeps his hands steady behind, seeming to be in a trance. "I am aware, yes... You've always been clear about that, Your Grace."

He tries to keep his expression as stoic as possible, but a tiny grin still seems to stretch across his face. "And with that, i want you as my equal." Xingqiu is frozen in place for what feels like forever. No amount of time would have prepared him for this.

"Your Grace," he finally says to you, his voice slightly quivering. "I am not worthy. I am nowhere near as perfect as you. Nowhere near as wise. Nowhere near as beautiful." He's silent for a moment. "I am just your faithful devotee... a loyal servant, at your beck and call. What would I even do as your equal?"

"You'd be mine"

Your words have caught him off-guard.

There's a heavy silence as he tries to comprehend the reality of what you're saying. It's like he's been cast into a daydream, a state of pure euphoria. When he speaks, his voice is trembling. "Y-Your Grace, I would be honored to become yours." He has to pause for a moment to collect himself. "I am yours for the rest of my days."

"So, you accept?" "Yes," he whispers, eyes locked on yours. "Your Grace, I accept." He finally allows himself to raise his head off the floor, his gaze firmly upon you. His words come out much smoother now, the euphoria having settled into a steady, loving joy.

"I accept. You have granted me my utmost greatest wish, Your Grace."

Zhongli

Zhongli has allowed himself to be embraced. His eyes flutter closed as he leans against you, though he still does not return the gesture. There is this faint tremor in his frame; as if he can't help but relax in your presence.

He might be an Archon, but he's also your good boy. "Zhongli?" He tilts his head up toward you, his eyes half-lidded. He seems so close to sleep, and yet he manages to keep himself conscious.

"Your Grace?" "There's something I want to ask you..." His head tilts slightly to the side; curious, but he manages to keep his eyes focused on you. "Ask, and it shall be answered." "Are you ready to be my equal, by my side as mine?" Zhongli seems to stiffen as he considers your request. Even if he wanted to, could he ever be your equal?

But he doesn't say anything, even if every word that comes to mind is an apology. He could not say no to you, even if it took every fiber in his being. He simply bows his head in affirmation.

"Your Grace, I love you, and i would love to take up this offer to be your equal." He seems to swallow back his words, as if fighting against every instinct he's known his entire life. His face seems to flush a rosy pink as your lips meet his; his eyes close and his head tilts into your touch.

After a moment, you lean in to return the kiss, softly at first, but more confidently as his hand wraps around the nape of your neck. He seems utterly lost in your touch, his lips soft but insistent. He has no words, he just wants to kiss you; to feel you in all the places his lips can reach.

He's yours now; whatever you ask, whatever you say he'll do.

His tongue darts out to touch your lips once, twice, again. He might have once thought himself above kissing you, but now...

Now he's simply yours.

♡TAGLIST♡

@junejunejun

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sodaabaa · 6 months ago

Text

suitors and sutures

anthony bridgerton x reader reader is named the diamond of the season but despite this, she finds the men of the ton avoiding her rather than courting her.

tw: none

Y/N marveled at the grand ballroom adorned with crystal chandeliers that sparkled as they caught the light. Her heart racing with nerves and excitement as she entered to make her debut. This moment would define her prospects — her entire future. She recalled everything she’d been taught for this moment, every movement she made exuding grace and poise. Y/N wore only the finest, her ivory gown embellished with dainty beading, her hair done up in an intricate updo with curls hanging out to frame her delicate face. She looked and felt like a princess.

She took slow, steady steps towards the throne. Queen Charlotte sat before her, trained on her every move as she approached, scrutinizing the girl before her. She stood before the Queen, a pleasant smile on her face as she curtsied — a movement marked by grace, as though she were floating. She rose after a heartbeat, looking up at the Queen in reverence. The Queen regarded her for a moment before leaning forward and with the gentlest of touches, held Y/N’s chin. She placed a kiss on her forehead, Y/N’s heart nearly burst. The Queen sat back, nodding as she declared Y/N to be the diamond of the season. She curtsied once more, thanking the Queen for bestowing her with such a title. When her presentation had come to an end, Y/N returned to her place beside her parents who gave her at least two dozen kisses, proud of their daughter for catching the eye of the Queen.

“Y/N!” A hushed voice came from her left – she looked for the source of the sound and found Francesca Bridgerton leaning behind her brothers to catch her best friend’s attention. Y/N leaned behind her parents to return her excitement.

“Francesca!”

“You’re the diamond! My best friend is the diamond! I knew only you could impress the Queen” She exclaimed, her face bright with excitement.

“I’m not certain I believe it,” she replied. It was true she couldn’t quite believe that her weeks of training for this moment had paid off.

“Hush, you two. There are still debutantes making their entrances,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the sound of the eldest Bridgerton chastising them. Francesca giggled at her friend’s blatant disregard for Anthony’s warning but swatted a hand at her to hush before Anthony scolded them once more.

Y/N lived directly across from the Bridgertons and thus, she grew up alongside the rather large family. Where Y/N was all mischief and confidence, Francesca was timid and quiet – as a child, Y/N had been drawn towards Francesca, the yin to her yang. They’d been inseparable since then. But with Francesca came an abundance of brothers and sisters who she’d grown comfortable with over the years – all except for the eldest, Anthony. Constantly reprimanding his siblings – and Y/N – for their behavior, always being the end to their fun. Though she had to admit, Y/N found great joy in taunting and teasing the grumpy viscount, making him lose his patience and composure was one of her favorite pastimes.

“Be mindful of who you are speaking to, Lord Bridgerton, I am the diamond of the season after all,” she retorted.

He gave her a pointed look which she returned, “it’s far too easy to rile you up, my lord,” she mocked. Next to Anthony stood Benedict, amused at their little spat.

“How you managed to become the diamond is beyond me,” he shook his head in annoyance.

She giggled but before she could tease him any further, her mother pulled her arm, motioning for her to face forward.

“Dearest, now that you are the diamond, you must be mindful of your behavior – especially with the Bridgertons,” she said, insinuating that she needed to be more ladylike with the Bridgerton boys.

“Of course mother,” she replied with a sigh.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“May I have this dance, Miss L/N?” She nodded graciously, accepting the man’s offer despite her feet begging her to take a seat. She’d danced with at least a dozen earls and barons and a few viscounts here and there – all of them vying for her attention, trying to impress her so that she might be receptive to their courtship.

As they danced across the ballroom, the man droned on about his accomplishments – she’d periodically offered nods and smiles to appear engaged but truth be told all she could focus on was the pain in her poor feet. She looked around the room, trying to find something more interesting to think about when her eyes clashed with Anthony’s. He was already staring at her when she found him, his face set in a scowl.

Someone’s grumpy tonight, she thought.

“My lady?” The man snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Pardon?”

“Do you not think it is the most riveting exercise – chess?” He repeated his question.

She had to fight the urge to roll her eyes, had he been droning on about chess this entire time?

“Yes, of course. My apologies, all of this dancing has made me awfully parched,” she put on her most damsel-in-distress demeanor.

“I shall retrieve a lemonade immediately, my lady.”

Finally, she sighed, making her way towards the viscount pouting in the corner.

“Has someone insulted you tonight or is your face just permanently set in a scowl?”

He rolled his eyes, “You abandoned your dance partner.”

“Would you believe me if I said he’d been giving a lecture on chess the entire time?”

He scoffed a laugh, amused at the torture she had to endure. She leaned against the wall next to him, facing the dance floor. She saw the man looking for her in the crowd, two lemonades in hand as promised.

She turned to Anthony and threw him a dazzling smile, “Would you be so kind as to dance with me?”

He looked down at her, not buying her flirtatious act. From the corner of her eyes, she saw the chess man making his way toward her.

“Please, have mercy Viscount Bridgerton,” she said more sincerely.

He looked up for a moment, muttering a curse under his breath before taking her hand with a sigh. She smiled, triumphant.

“Miss L/N?” Chess man said.

“Apologies Donovan, I shall be taking this next dance with Miss L/N,” Anthony replied before she could say anything. He didn’t wait for a response as he pulled her to the dance floor.

“My hero,” she said, exaggerating her relief. He tried not to smile at her antics.

He led them across the dance floor, expertly guiding her through as he held her gaze. She was impressed by his ballroom skills – though she couldn’t say she was surprised, the grouch of a viscount had always been the type of person to excel in anything and everything he did. They danced quietly, a relief for Y/N after having to endure hours of talking. The two of them were content, comfortable to dance without exchanging meaningless pleasantries or droning on about their achievements. When the music slowed, signaling the end of the night, he bowed, she returned the gesture with a curtsy and with that, she bid the viscount goodbye.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Warm rays of sunlight nudged Y/N awake. Her mind instantly recalled her dance with Anthony last night. She sat up, suddenly remembering that there must be dozens of suitors calling on her right now.

Shit. She scrambled out of bed, calling on her maids to come and help her find the appropriate dress for the morning. She quickly did her hair, pinched her cheeks to bring some color back into her face, and rushed downstairs to the drawing room. There sat her mother – alone?

“Mother? Were there no callers?”

Her mother set down her teacup on the table in front of her, “perhaps it's simply too early, I’m sure there will be callers soon,” she replied.

She sat beside her mother, confused. She recalled Daphne Bridgerton’s experience with being the diamond. She had suitors instantaneously, regardless of the time of day. The maid brought her breakfast, setting it down on the table but Y/N found herself lacking an appetite. Her aching feet were a reminder of the many men who took a vehement interest in her the night before – where had they all gone?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“Perhaps it was simply too early in the day?” Francesca echoed her mother’s sentiments as they walked arm in arm around the park. The two oldest Bridgerton brothers trailed behind them, acting as chaperones (primarily for Francesca while Y/N merely intruded).

“Are you men not up at ungodly hours in the morning to tend to whatever business it is you have?” She called out to the two behind her.

“I certainly am not,” Benedict replied, “and you, brother?”

“Any respectable man would be up bright and early. I should think your suitors from last night are all lousy men you would not want courting you anyway, Miss L/N,” Anthony replied gruffly.

She rolled her eyes at his remark, “Do vampires require sleep?” She asked no one in particular (though she had hoped Anthony would understand the insult).

“Vampires cannot roam freely in the daylight,” Anthony replied. She smiled, satisfied.

Francesca and Benedict laughed, “I do hope whatever poor fellow does end up courting you has thick skin and an abundance of patience,” Benedict said.

“I think you should be a tad bit nicer, Y/N. Men have unfortunately fragile egos,” Francesca replied, leaning in closer to whisper the last part.

“Heard that,” the two men behind them said in unison.

That night as Y/N lay in bed, she raked over her conversation with the Bridgertons. Perhaps her behavior had scared away her potential suitors. She knew she could be a bit brash – not always able to hold her tongue or control her facial expressions but as Benedict said, she simply needed a man who could handle her colorful personality.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Dearest Reader,

It appears our revered diamond may not dazzle as brightly as Her Majesty had envisioned. Whispers abound that Miss Y/N L/N finds herself unable to secure a suitor. Despite her dances and promenades with many a gentlemen, a courtship remains elusive – let alone a match. Was it an error on the Queen's part to name Miss L/N as the diamond of the season? Or perhaps, dare I say, is she not quite equal to the challenge?

Yours Truly,

Lady Whistledown

Tears stung Y/N’s eyes as she read the excerpt of Lady Whistledown’s paper. It’d been weeks since the start of the season and she was still unable to keep a man interested long enough for him to court her. She took Francesca’s advice and started being kinder, showed more enthusiasm the interests of whomever was conversing with her but it was all in vain – for the next day they were nowhere to be found.

She took deep breaths to steady herself as she prepared for yet another ball, no doubt the Queen would be watching her closely trying to determine the reason for her diamond’s failure. She had not only embarrassed herself and her family this season but she risked embarrassing the Queen as well. The thought made her stomach churn with anxiety but she pushed them away, determined to redeem herself tonight.

Y/N entered Lady Danbury’s ballroom with her parents, eyes instantly seeking out Francesca for support. Instead, she found another familiar face standing before her, hand out in front of him asking for a dance.

“Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. L/N,” Anthony nodded to her parents, “may I steal Miss L/N for the first dance?”

They let her go with an enthusiastic nod as Y/N took Anthony’s hand. She muttered a ‘thank you’ to Anthony as they made their way to the dance floor. She knew she had to stay busy to avoid the Queen’s ire. As they made their way to the dance floor, she noticed one of the men who had walked with her days ago sporting a rather painful-looking black eye. Ouch. What had he done to earn that? She wondered.

“Lady Whistledown was quite harsh,” He broke her out of her thoughts as they started dancing.

“Perhaps she was right,” her voice was quiet.

Anthony’s face contorted in disbelief, “If there’s anyone who can handle being diamond, it's you, Y/N. Lady Whistledown is merely looking for a way to undermine the Queen’s judgment.”

She looked up at him, surprised at his reassuring words. But it was not enough, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was simply unmarriageable.

“Perhaps Francesca was right, I should be more gentle, more kind, and gracious to the attentions of men,” she said.

Anthony scoffed, “Perhaps those half-wits shouldn’t be courting you at all.”

Y/N couldn’t hold back the laughter that escaped her – had he just called the other men half-wits?

“Then who should be courting me, Lord Bridgerton?” She looked at him with curiosity.

“Whoever shows up at your house, calling upon you at ungodly hours in the morning,” he replied, a small smirk gracing his lips.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“Miss! You have a caller!”

Y/N groaned, lifting the duvet over her ears. One of the maids pulled back the curtains, the sudden burst of light making Y/N flinch.

“What is it, Celia?” She muttered to her maid, still half asleep.

“You have a caller, Miss! Your mother needs you to come downstairs straight away.”

She sat up, cursing the awful man who had decided now to call upon her. She threw off the duvet, begrudgingly leaving the cozy bed to get dressed.

She made her way down the stairs to find out who had so callously pulled her out of bed at this time. She could hear her mother from the hall, stalling him by talking about all of Y/N’s achievements and something about how happy she was that a longtime friend was courting Y/N.

Longtime friend?

She turned the corner, entering the drawing room when she stopped in her tracks. The sight of the familiar silhouette jolted her awake.

“Anthony?”

He turned, standing up with a smile.

“Y/N, mind your manners, that is no way to refer to Viscount Bridgerton!” Her mother called out.

“It’s quite alright, Mrs. L/N, we’ve long since passed the need for formalities, have we not?” He asked her.

She nodded, unable to find any words to construct a proper reply.

“May we have a moment, Mrs. L/N?”

“Of course!” Her mother scurried from the drawing room, leaving behind a maid as the chaperone.

Anthony motioned for her to sit as he sat down on the sofa. She took a seat in front of him.

“What’s all this?” She asked, still in shock.

“I believe I should begin by apologizing,” he said.

Her brows furrowed in confusion, “Whatever for?”

He exhaled, “What Lady Whistledown said,” he paused, “you had – or would have had many suitors calling upon you had I not interfered.”

She looked at him, still confused – perhaps even more so. He took her confusion as permission to go on.

“None of those men were decent nor respectable. Your behavior felt like a challenge towards them -- I overheard several of those half-wits making bets on who’d be able to,” he cleared his throat, “break your attitude.”

Y/N sat back, astonished by the sudden revelation. He brought a hand up to his chin, stroking it as if in thought. Her eyes fell to his knuckles, red as if he’d –.

Realization dawned on her.

“Did you – one of the men I talked to, he had a black eye at the ball last night! Anthony did you –,” Before she could finish, the look on his face gave her all the answer she needed. He looked smug, pleased with himself.

“He deserved it," he said as he sat back.

“Anthony! The poor man probably needed sutures!”

“I was not going to allow such things to be said about a lady in my presence!”

She laughed, “What then, you were protecting me from them?”

He nodded, “They were unworthy of you.”

“And you are?” She challenged.

“If you’ll have me,” he replied.

She watched him, still reeling from the fact that he’d punched another man for her. That he’d been keeping all of those men away from her. It made her stomach flutter. She knew of his fierce protectiveness through Francesca and Daphne but being on the receiving end of such gallant behavior – if there was a man who could handle her, it had to be Anthony with his quick wit and no-nonsense attitude that he threw out the window when it came to matching her in a spat. He fit her in every way, though it took her until now to realize it.

“How could I refuse my hero?”

#anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton netflix

2K notes · View notes

heytheredelulu · 7 months ago

Text

Unbreakable

Unbreakable Part 2 can be found here!

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+

C/W: Oral sex (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, language

Summary: You’ve always wanted to be a mother but your husband is too tormented by his past to believe he could ever be a good father. For so long you’ve accepted that it will never be in the cards for you- after all, it’s only a small price to pay to continue to live the life you’ve built with the man you love. But what happens when you finally admit that you want what he refuses to give you? Will you push him away with your confession or will you finally make him realize that he’s not the man he believes himself to be?

A/N: Look, I’ve been hormonal as hell for the last two weeks and it’s got me craving some angsty, soft, needy Bucky-

And some passionate, sensual baby makin’ sex.

So without further ado, please enjoy the longest fic I’ve ever written.

“Doll?” Bucky asked softly, kneeling down in front of you and lowering his head to your level in an attempt to draw your attention up from the book sprawled open in your lap.

You’d been much more reserved as of late and it was beginning to worry him. Your smile seemed a little weaker, a little more forced, and your overall demeanor had reversed; as if the bright light that you always exuded had been extinguished and you were now floating along on the furls of smoke that were left behind- here physically, but mentally you were always elsewhere.

“Hmm?”

You turn the page gently without looking up and Bucky sighs, reaching to carefully slide the book off your lap, snapping it shut and placing it on the coffee table.

“Look at me, angel.”

You let out a slow breath, lifting your head to meet your husband’s troubled gaze, his brows furrowed in concern.

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong, or are you gonna keep hiding out with your nose in a book all day?” He asks quietly, hoping that this time you’d open up, pull back the curtains you’d drawn so tightly and let him into those veiled thoughts of yours.

You shrug, trying to avert your eyes but his hand gently grasps your chin, tilting your face back towards him.

“Angel, please.”

You shake your head, afraid to share with him what’s been troubling you for weeks, afraid to dredge up long washed away agreements.

“It’s stupid.”

He raises an eyebrow, pinning you under his cerulean stare.

“Nah, it’s not stupid if it’s got you this worked up. C’mon.”

He affectionately tucks a piece of hair that had fallen loose when you’d shook your head back behind your ear before offering you a small smile that breaks your resolve and you feel the tears beginning to form on your lower lash line, the translucent beads of heartache obscuring your vision.

“I want a baby.” You whisper, immediately wishing you’d never uttered those four words once you see the corners of his lips begin to pull downwards.

When he slowly stands and takes a hesitant step backwards, that mask of stoicism you’ve worked for so long to peel away slipping back into place, your heart seizes in your chest.

“Bucky..” You plead, a tear slipping down your cheek as you rise from your seat and reach out for him, afraid you’ve pushed him too far with your admittance. “James.. Baby.”

He shakes his head, holding his palm out towards you in a feeble attempt to maintain his distance while he mulls over your confession but you press forward, placing your hand gently on his forearm.

“I need some air.” He mumbles, shrugging off your hand and moving quickly towards the door.

Before you can muster the voice to call out for him again, the door is closing behind him with a soft click and he’s gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Why couldn’t you have just kept your mouth shut?

You scold yourself, your mind reeling with the possibility that you may have said too much despite only saying so little when you hear his motorcycle roar to life out in the garage.

He was running again.

You’d known the idea of children was a difficult subject for Bucky. It had only come up in discussion a handful of times before and when it had, he was always quick to dismiss it, stating he’d be a terrible father before descending into a rabbit hole of self-deprecating comments you’d have to reach down and pull him out of with a steady hand of reassurance.

As time went on you’d pretty much conceded to the idea that you’d never have the chance to be a mother if you wanted to continue to live the life you’d built with the man that you loved and you’d grown to accept that fact. At the time it felt like a small price to pay for the joy and love that Bucky brought you but as the years went on and your friends and coworkers grew their families, welcoming new, bright eyed babies, you began to feel a sense of longing for what you had always thought you’d never want.

His behavior was so much different this time, the way he’d clammed up, shut you out and needed to completely remove himself from your presence. His reaction had never been so extreme before and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was how desperate you’d seemed- the tears in your eyes, the pleading in your tone.

Those thoughts and unanswered questions weighed heavily in your mind while you escaped the afternoon inside the pages of your book until the sun began to set through the bay window and you finally dragged yourself up to bed, your restless mind carrying you into a dreamless sleep.

It was nearly 2 in the morning when Bucky crept barefoot into your bedroom, the hall light bathing your sleeping figure in a corridor of fluorescent light as he quietly opened the door. His breath caught in his chest as he lingered in the doorway, this vision of you reminding him just why he always affectionately referred to you as his angel.

He shut the door softly behind him, shedding his t-shirt and jeans before gently pulling back the sheets, his heart and his cock simultaneously swelling when his gaze settled on the image of you in your silk night gown as it rode innocently up your supple thighs.

He crawled silently up the foot of the large bed, lowering himself onto his stomach and settling between your legs, his hands gently kneading the tender flesh of your thighs as a low and shuddered breath blew from his lips.

He carefully pushed the hem of the silk garment higher, exposing your cotton briefs and the soft flesh of your belly, moving to rest his head against the bare skin. His hand hesitantly caressed your abdomen.

All afternoon his head had been plagued with the fear of losing you, the feeling of inadequacy resulting from the pain in your tone when you confessed the desire for something he felt he could never provide.

But once alone with his thoughts as he tore down the interstate on his motorcycle, physically trying to outrun the deep rooted trauma of his past, the pieces began to fall into place for him.

You’d loved him unconditionally through his trauma, offered him unwavering support and shined light to the darkest depths of his soul, always seeing something inside him that he could never see in himself.

But you were fading. Becoming physically and emotionally withdrawn under the weight of sacrificing such a fundamental need that you craved- all for him.

Maybe he’d never overcome his past. Maybe there would always be a darkness beyond the surface that kept its claws dug deep into the innermost reaches of his subconscious.

Or maybe he had already overcome it and had just been so blinded by his own self loathing that he hadn’t realized. Surely if he was as cold and broken as he believed himself to be, he never would have been capable of loving you in the all encompassing way that he did.

You, the one person in his life that could melt the ice encapsulating his heart with only a flash of your warm smile.

He’d never wanted children. He always believed he’d be a terrible father but the desperation in your eyes when you confessed that you wanted a baby with him brought him to consider that maybe it had always been his own insecurities rearing their ugly head as they always did when he tried to imagine himself as anything more than the man he used to be.

His hand stroked idly across your bare abdomen in slow, languid movements as he tried to picture the soft flesh stretched and swollen with his child.

His child.

A life created from the love and the passion that the two of you shared, to raise in the home you’d built together, to nurture with the kindness that you exhumed and to mold into a better person than he could’ve ever hoped to have been with the guidance only someone as patient as you could provide.

He’d never wanted to be a father, never thought he was capable of being a father.

But you, you made him feel as if he were capable of anything and as he had pulled his motorcycle over onto the side of the highway and wept that evening, he knew now without question that he wanted- no, needed you to bring his child into this world.

“Baby?”

Your sleepy voice penetrated his thoughts as you spoke into the dark room and reached your hands down to tenderly run your fingers through his brunette locks.

“You came home.” You mumbled, trying to rouse from your slumber enough to properly talk to him.

Bucky raised his head off of your belly, sliding his hand up your torso, through the valley of your breasts to settle at your nape. He gently cupped your jaw and tilted your head to look at him as he hovered above you.

“Of course I came home.” He says, the hurt evident in his tone. “Why wouldn’t I?”

You catch your bottom lip between your teeth to prevent it from quivering as your emotions begin to rise to the surface again.

“I don’t know. I just-“ You hesitate, worried that you’re toeing a fine line of sending him running again if you don’t choose your words carefully.

“Angel..”

He settles his thumb over your mouth, effectively silencing you as he gently strokes the pad of his calloused thumb across your bottom lip.

“I always come home.” He whispered, leaning down and tracing the tip of his nose across your jawline. “I will always come home to you.”

“I thought I’d scared you off.” You admit softlyly, reaching your hand down to caress his cheek, the light stubble rough against your skin.

He leans into your touch, his eyes slipping closed as he draws in a shaky breath.

“You could never scare me off.”

His jaw clenches and he opens his eyes, looking at you with a haunted gaze.

“If anything I’m scared of myself, doll.”

You move to sit up, wanting nothing more than to take him in your arms, chase the demons from behind his eyes with the comfort of your loving embrace but he’s quick to place a large hand between your breasts, firmly pressing you back down onto the mattress.

“No.”

He repositions himself above you, dipping his head and bracing his weight on his muscular forearms as he trails a line of open mouthed kisses down your bare abdomen.

His breath fans against the soft cotton of your panties as he hooks his fingers under the waistband and removes them at a torturously slow pace.

“I don’t wanna talk about me and my bullshit.” He says in a low voice, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh and sending a shiver up your spine.

“Actually, I don’t wanna talk at all.” He adds, lifting your legs to rest over his shoulders.

“Bucky.” You warn softly, reaching your hand down to push his hair off his forehead. “We really should talk about this. We can’t avoi-”

He steals the words from you when he gently spreads your folds with his fingers, his breathy chuckle warm against your sex.

“I’ve got a much better way to make use of my mouth.” He murmurs, bowing his head and glancing up at you with lustful eyes. The image of him between your thighs, looking at you with such intensity was enough to silence you entirely.

“Let me show my angel what heaven feels like.”

A desperate moan rises from your throat as Bucky laps at your weeping cunt in long, slow strokes with his flattened tongue. He laves upward, tracing gentle circles around your clit, catching the swollen bud between his lips and suckling, your back arching off the mattress in response.

“Fuck.” You whimper, carding your hands in his hair to hold him in place.

He hums, flitting the tip of his tongue downwards and dipping into your fluttering hole, drawing a gasp from your throat as he fucks you with it, euphoria building at the base of your spine.

“For an angel-“ He mumbles and raises his head up, his unshaven chin slick with your arousal, pinning you under his gaze as he sinks two fingers inside you and begins pumping them slowly.

“You sure do taste like sin.” He muses.

He latches back onto your clit, flicking his tongue in quick movements while simultaneously curling his fingers inside you, stroking you closer towards climax with every ministration.

“Baby, I- fuck!”

Fire erupts through your core and you clench around his fingers, tightening your grip on his hair and jerking your hips upward to grind your cunt against his face as you cry out in ecstasy.

He chuckles against your tender flesh as he withdraws his digits, the warmth of his breath causing you to writhe against the sheets as you ride through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“You’re so goddamned beautiful when you come.” He whispers, wiping his mouth on his forearm and shifting his weight against the bed as he rises momentarily up to discard his boxers.

He positions himself above you, bracing himself on his palms, his biceps flexing as he dips down to press a kiss to your pulse point.

Dazed and breathless, you reach down to guide him to your entrance, pausing when your hand curls around the warmth of his bare cock.

“Shit, condom.” You mumble, working to maneuver yourself out from under him in order to reach towards the bedside table.

He stops you with a loose grasp around your throat, gently pushing you back into the pillows.

“Don’t need one.” He breathes out, settling himself between your slick thighs.

Your brows furrow in confusion and your mouth falls open in question but he carefully slides his hand up your neck to grip your jaw, pulling you into a deep and sensual kiss.

You slide your hands across the expanse of his toned back, returning the kiss with equal intensity before he breaks it, resting his forehead against yours.

He silently guides your hand to his hard and aching cock, closing your fist around it as he releases a shuddered breath against cheek.

“You’re gonna take my cock.” He grunts, peppering kisses across your jawline. “You’re gonna take my cum.”

He bucks his hips against your grip, urging you to bring him against your weeping hole.

“And you’re going to have my baby.”

Your eyes widen at his words, the quiver in his voice telling you this isn’t just some form of dirty talk but that he’s sincere and desperate.

“Bucky, are you sure?” You ask in a broken whisper, clarifying for good measure.

“You are going to have my baby.” He repeats, his voice carrying demand.

You let out a whimper, lining him up with your entrance and withdrawing your hand once he presses the leaking tip of his cockhead into your cunt, quickly burying himself inside you with a purposeful thrust of his hips.

You gasp at the stretch and he stills, his pelvis flush against you, sucking in a sharp breath at the way your inner walls are gripping him, free of the confines of a condom for the very first time.

“Goddamnit, angel. I don’t think I’m going to last very long.” He chokes out, the feeling of your tight, wet cunt engulfing his cock leaving him nearly breathless.

God, what he would do to stay inside you like this forever.

He draws his hips back, retreating almost completely before thrusting back into you. His lips part and his brows knit, breathy moans rising from his throat as he picks up a rhythm, his very soul craving to feel you around every inch of his length.

His hunger for you is apparent with every deep and merciless thrust and that sense of needful longing sets your every nerve ablaze.

He crashes his mouth against yours, kissing you frantically as reaches for your hands, lacing your fingers together in a fervent grip.

Pleasure pools low in your abdomen and you bring your trembling legs up to wrap around his waist, rolling your hips up in sync with his strokes as you chase your climax.

He groans in response and increases his pace, his heavy sack slapping against your ass with every frenzied rut into you.

“Oh fuck, please, baby. Please come on my cock. God, I need to feel you. Fuck, fuck!” He pleads with a shuddering breath that betrays how desperately he’s fighting to maintain his tempo as he climbs closer towards the edge with every passing second.

The sight of this beautiful man barely able to refrain from falling apart for you, begging for you to come on his cock, is enough to break you. White hot pleasure spreads through your core, flooding your body in a wave of euphoria as you cry out for him in choked sobs.

“Bucky! James, baby!”

He pounds into you at a brutal pace, incapable of holding himself back any longer, drawing strangled noises from you as he fucks you through the waves of the orgasm gripping your body.

“I love you, I love you, I-“ You whimper over and over in a cock-drunk stupor, rocking your pelvis sloppily against his movements.

He grunts, his hips stuttering as he stammers out your name in a breathless plea before giving one final deep thrust and he stills, emptying himself inside you with a throaty moan.

Bucky slumps forward burying his face into your neck, words of praise falling from his lips in a whisper against your skin as you remain in each other's embrace, hearts racing and chests heaving in the afterglow.

The steady thumping of his heartbeat begins to lul you towards a state of peaceful sleep and as your eyes slip closed, you feel the bitter emptiness of him withdrawing from inside you only to jerk back to full consciousness at the sensation of his fingertips against the tender flesh of your swollen cunt.

As you start to rise up on your elbows in order to better observe what it is he’s doing, he softly shushes you, smirking as he trails his fingers along your slit, gathering up any of his seed that had managed to escape your aching hole and gently pump it back in with his fingers.

“Not letting you waste a drop.” He murmurs, collapsing onto the bed beside you and reaching an arm around your waist to pull your back against his broad chest.

He envelops you in his warmth, his strong arms wrapped lovingly around you as he rests his nose against the crown of your head, slowly and deeply inhaling your scent.

“What made you change your mind?” You ask softly, snuggling your cheek against the bicep of his flesh arm.

His vibranium arm drapes across your abdomen and he splays his palm above your pelvic bone, gently brushing the cool metal of his thumb back and forth in affectionate strokes along your bare skin.

“You.” He replies, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Me?” You ask incredulously. “How the hell did I manage to change your mind about something you were so adamant about? We didn’t even talk about it, Buck. I just told you what I wanted.”

He sighs, settling his chin atop your head. “You’re right, we didn’t.” He admits in a low voice. “But you know I’m a man of few words, angel.”

“But that doesn’t mean we just avoid the subject completely and then jump headfirst into this. Not that I’m complaining, it’s just that I need to understand how you managed to get here. That was- this was unexpected.” You respond, placing a gentle hand over his forearm and stroking your fingertips lazily across the spray of soft, dark curls adorning it. “You say you’re a man of few words but I know damn well you have a lot to say, you just don’t like saying it. You don’t like grappling with your emotions, Bucky. I think maybe its because you spent so long having them repressed against your will.”

He’s silent for a beat before drawing in a slow breath and in those several moments of quiet you feel a rising sense of dread that maybe you had overstepped with your assessment.

“Do you know why I call you ‘angel’?” He asks quietly, his thumb stilling against your lower belly.

You tilt your head in confusion. “What?” You question, your own fingers slowing their leisurely circles along his arm. “Baby, you’re deflecting.”

“I’m not.” He explains, raising his head, his thumb resuming its languid strokes across your skin. “Just answer my question.”

You huff, resisting the urge to roll your eyes by instead moving them back and forth to follow the movements of his thumb. “It’s a pet name, like baby or doll.”

He shakes his head and lets out a soft chuckle, his breath tickling the back of your neck.

“It’s a pet name, yeah. But do you know why I call you that?” He asks.

You shrug. “No, I guess I don’t.” You reply, tilting your head back to look up at him. “Are you gonna tell me?”

His lips curve into a smile as he looks down at you and in the dim light of the bedroom you notice how glassy his eyes appear, as if he’s just a blink away from a tear escaping his blue eyes.

“Because you saved me.” He whispers with a small crack in his voice that makes your heart ache. You want to ask him how- how he could possibly say something as bold as that you saved him, but your breath is caught in your chest at the vulnerability Bucky is showing you in this moment.

“Baby, when you met me I was so broken. I think maybe I still am.” He continues, resting his cheek against your shoulder in a clear attempt to hide his expression from you because he was stubborn and you were right. Emotion was not something Bucky expressed freely because he spent nearly his entire life with them suppressed so if he had any hope of baring his soul to you now, he couldn’t possibly let you see his face as he did it.

“No one dared to get close to me because they were too afraid of getting cut on the shattered pieces of who I was. But not you. Never you.” He explains, pausing as he draws in a slow and shaky breath while he considers how to express how much you mean to him when he wasn’t entirely sure there were even words capable of doing so.

In his brief pause you shift your weight, rolling over to face him properly before he continues.

“You didn’t care if you got cut because you saw something in me worth believing in and you weren’t afraid to bleed to get to it. You rebuilt me. You saved me.” His voice is hoarse as he struggles to hold his composure and keep from breaking down completely. “Your faith in me gave me hope- it gives me hope that maybe I’m capable of more than I think I am.”

A single tear finally breaks free, slipping free of his lashes and sliding slowly down his cheek in the wake of his heart lay bare to you.

“You give me too much credit.” You whisper, reaching up to brush away his tear with a trembling thumb. Your touch lingers on his skin and he places his hand overtop yours, pressing your palm to his cheek as he pins you under his tender gaze.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.” He counters.

“Neither do you.”

He opens his mouth to argue but closes it and sighs when he realizes you’re right. You’re always right.

“I love you. I love all of you- every single piece, including ones you say are broken.” You whisper, offering him a soft smile as you gently push the hair back from his sweat-slicked forehead.

“They are broken.” He breathes out.

“I don’t think that’s true. If it were, could you really love me the way that you do? Think about it, Bucky. After everything you’ve suffered? You’re not broken, you’re unbreakable.”

He hesitates, running his hand down his face to mask the way it crumples at your words and wipe away the tears now falling steadily down his cheeks.

“I don’t deserve you.” He whispers.

You sit upright, leaning forward and cupping his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your eyes.

“You deserve everything, Bucky. Life owes you love. It owes you kindness for fucks sake.”

“Not after what I’ve done.” He mutters, the ghosts of his past flickering behind his eyes as he begins to retreat down that godforsaken rabbit hole inside his head again but you won’t allow it. Not this time.

“Especially after what you’ve done. Because you weren’t given a choice.”

He shakes his head, his eyes squeezing shut as if he can’t bear to let you see him this way.

“And what happens when they find out who- what I used to be?” He asks in a pained tone, nodding towards your belly as if he somehow believes his seed has already taken root in your womb. “They’ll find out. We won’t be able to shelter them from the truth.”

“Baby, look at me.” You demand, your expression stern as you rise up and lean forward on your knees. “Will it matter when they only know you as the you that you truly are? How can I make you see yourself the way that I see you?”

Bucky sighs, his shoulders slouching. “What would I do without you?” He asks quietly, resting his hand against your thigh and kneading the flesh beneath his fingers.

“Never have clean laundry or dishes.” You tease in an attempt to lighten the sullen mood. He stares up at you in disbelief for several long moments before unexpectedly delivering a swift smack to your bare ass, drawing a yelp from you that is immediately followed by a string of lighthearted giggles.

“Damnit, doll- I’m being serious!”

“So am I!” You argue, stifling a laugh. “I found a cereal bowl under the bed!”

He groans, covering his face with his hands. “It was one time.”

You smirk, your eyebrow quirking up in skepticism.

“That’s one time too many.”

“You’re ridiculous.” He grumbles.

“But you love me.”

He hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you into his embrace with a dramatic groan and you rest your head against his chest, draping your arms around his neck.

“I do.” He whispers, tracing his fingertips along your spine. “More than I could ever begin to explain.”

“A broken man couldn’t love me. A broken man wouldn’t know how to love me.” You point out. “And God, baby- you make me feel loved every moment of every single day.”

His breath catches and you can hear his heartbeat begin to quicken in his chest against your ear before he rolls over abruptly, pinning you underneath him as he looks down at you with an expression of adoration and that familiar fire in his gaze.

You tilt your chin up, a grin stretching across your face as you place your palm against his chest and state proudly, “You are James Buchanan Barnes and you are-“

He devours the words from your mouth before you can finish speaking them as he kisses you with urgency, stealing the breath from your lungs with the way his mouth moves desperately against yours.

Your hands explore his toned back, the feeling of his muscles flexing under your touch driving you to greedily draw his body closer to yours until he settles his weight onto you.

He breaks the kiss with a smirk on his lips as your head falls back, sucking in a sharp inhale at the warmth of his cock pressing into the soft flesh of your bare thigh, already hard and weeping for you again.

He lowers his head, nuzzling his forehead against your temple as he completes your stolen sentence in a whisper against the shell of your ear:

“Unbreakable.”

Taglist (Taglist is open):

@badbunnybabygirl01 @suz7days @truthfulliarr @lilacka @writtingrose @samsgoddess @wintrsoldrluvr @loveisallyouneed1125 @vicmc624 @millercontracting @wildernessflora @mydorkyboys @blackhawkfanatic @honestlywork @ladyvenera @cavity-exe @ihavetwoholesforareason @km-ffluv @shortnloud @mrs-katelyn-barnes @somnorvos @22rhianna2006 @misshale21 @angelbaby99 @deans-spinster-witch @kezibear @alexakeyloveloki @terry2227 @acornacreacure

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes oneshot #avengers smut #marvel smut

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anantaru · 7 months ago

Text

⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ cw. none, fluff, established relationship, reader wears a sundress <3, fem! reader

picking grapes with diluc, but you rather admire what's yours.

you sit underneath a large tree, straightening your sundress as your eyes ardently dance along your boyfriend's movements.

the pearly sound of ice cubes floating in your refreshing drink whistles as you take a sip, eyes curious, mind wandering. you find yourself holding your breath at the sight of him, or his well-toned back muscles bulging from beneath his shirt.

diluc brushes away a feeble lace of sweat on his forehead as his tailored shirt moves with the tension in his limbs. it fit him perfectly, and such you could easily discern by the amount of muscles showing underneath the fabric.

a chorus of birds chirp a love song and write your love in the sunlight.

there was no pain or poison in the air— by this tension and heat, you could pour the air and call it syrup, a love liquid.

each one of your exhales tensely draw together when you continue to watch him, a cold breeze drifting through the thin fabric of your dress.

diluc walks towards a brown basket full of grapes as he picks it up easily, as if he didn't even consider it being heavy— and his corded muscles ripple when he lifts it to a different spot that wouldn't bother him during his work.

the atmosphere too was warm, comfort battering like butterflies in the air as the small area you were resting in was located in an idyllic corner of the winery, undisturbed by others and almost completely quiet.

your feet sink slightly into the grass and a shiver kisses along your spine as diluc's footsteps contract the same time your own heart leaps.

he kneels in front of you, "you done watching me?"

ah, of course he noticed.

he smiles, extending his hand towards the frill hem of your sundress before planing his rough knuckles over your collarbones gently.

just looking at you.

but his eyes, deep of love and kind, swing and clamor in vehemence, revealing strong emotions.

you exhale softly at his touch and hum when he smoothes his knuckles over your skin so cautiously, not to hurt or pain you, as if you'd break if he dare to apply more pressure.

it was enough to make your heart leap in your chest, your eyes like molasses overflowed.

you cough out, placing your drink aside shakily, "you see, i was just admiring what's mine,"

you answer cheekily, your heels drawn back as your thighs open a little— not too much, of course, adelinde must be near, but his lashes flutter infrequently upon gazing at your bare legs.

that he has kissed so many times already.

"that makes us two then," he admits without breaking his stare on your thighs, dancing over the way this dress fits your frame.

as to punctuate the meaning of his words further, diluc slowly leans forward in need to kiss you, kiss your lips and leave you panting.

here, on a glittering array of blossoming flowers and sweet scents, one hand cradles your cheek softly before he tilts it, his thumb carefully stroking over your bottom lip when he melts himself into you ever so tenderly.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #diluc x you #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #diluc fluff #genshin drabbles #genshin impact drabbles

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mooooonnnzz · 4 months ago

Note

I saw your earlier post on Platonic fics and Im a sucker for them so here u go : father figure stanford headcannons maybe takes place after he comes back from the portal, reader is an adventurous spirit that works at the shack and maybe secretly helped stan get his brother back? Idk im just throwing things here lol

You Know I Love You Still

Stanford x daughter!reader

💗 stanford dad hc!!

💗 i literally saw the request it and started writing and got a lil carried away 😭 its like half story half hc? if that makes sense

💗 requests r so open rn! i def dont have any fav requests… (anything platonic or familial will be the first ones i write i LOVE those types of requests)

💗 the age of the reader is young like 16/17? ik that lowkey contradicts with the time line but wtv STANFORD DAD HC!!

💗 it’s a little bit of everything? like it’s not only just reader and stanford, the twins r also included in some scenarios and also stan

💗 a big happy family 😭

💗 fem reader gulp i completely didnt realize until i was done that i used she/her when referring to the reader

💗 next fic will use gender neutral pronouns I SWUEAR!!

💗2k words

💗 i apologize for rhe misspell and mistakes i didnt catch in advance

Working together with your Uncle Stan to build the portal to bring your dad back to the right dimension was tiresome. Nights were sleepless and many of them were spent in the underground lab, where you and Stan did everything possible to assemble the portal. Trying to keep such a secret away from the twins and Soos was unexpectedly hard. The knowledge of hiding someone so vital to you and to your Uncle Stan was weighing down on you and him. Then came the day where his awaited arrival was promised. You could barely sleep that night. You thought of so many different possibilities and scenarios of how you would greet him. Would he remember you? Did he ever miss you? Does he even love you?!

The next day came in like a tornado and before you knew it, you were protectively standing in front of the button; trying your absolute hardest to prevent the twins from pressing the button.

“Why do you guys want to stop the portal so badly!” You yelled over the loud swirling wind that emitted from the portal. “Because it’s dangerous!” Dipper retorted, using his arm to shield him from the debris whizzing past him. “G-Grunkle Stan isn’t who he says he is!” Dipper said, stepping closer to you.

“Whatever you guys saw or heard isn’t what you think it is! Please, you need to believe me.” You begged, your eyes brimming with tears. You’ve worked so hard to get this portal up and running and you weren’t going to let Dipper or anyone stop you from being able to see your dad.

Soos came up from behind and wrapped his arms around you. “I’m sorry, dude.” He picked you up and took you away from the button. “Soos, no!” You thrashed around his hold. You pound your fists against his arms, hoping it’ll loosen his grip on you but nothing you did worked. No matter how much you begged and fought against him, he didn’t budge. He just held you closer to him, muttering ‘I’m Sorry’ under his breath.

“This all stops now!” Dipper raised his hand, palm flattened out, ready to push the button when Stan appeared at the doorway. “Don’t touch that button!”

He’s hunched forward, hand leaning on the frame of the doorway as he pants. Relief washes over you upon seeing Stan. Silence fills the room for a minute and all you can hear is your heart hammer against your ribcage. Stan walks towards Dipper, beckoning him to not press the button.

“If you just let me explain—“ He’s cut off by his watch repeatedly beeping. Suddenly the ground begins to shake.

The portal powers up and the circle enlarges. The electricity spazzes and travels throughout the room, creating streaks of electrical power. Your feet lift off the ground and soon everyone’s floating up in the air. The wind is fierce and it’s whipping through every direction, pushing you towards the wall.

Dipper yells at Mable to turn off the portal before it causes anymore damage. She tugs herself closer to the button using a stray cable and while she wraps herself around the neck holding up the button, Stan is begging her to listen to him and to not press the button. He’s soon tackled by Soos who pushes him away from Mable. They all fight with each other and you’re watching with a bated breath.

The portal pulses with power, sending you back first into the wall. Stan and Dipper bicker back and forth and Mable is torn with the decision of either believing her brother or her Grunkle. She lowers her hand, eyes closed and you're almost convinced she’s going to press the button when she lets go of the button. She floats up with her arms raised. “Grunkle Stan, I believe you.” She says.

“Mable, are you crazy?! We’re all gonna—!”

The world flashes white and you're immediately knocked out. You awaken to yourself plummeting face first down to the floor. You groan, pushing yourself up with one hand and the other wiping off the dust on your face. Looking around you can see your family scattered around the room, each of them slowly waking up from whatever happened and stumbling back to their feet.

Your head quickly whips towards the portal and your heart lurches into your throat upon seeing a figure step out of it. He stands still, staring straight ahead as he takes off his hood and goggles. And what hid behind them was your father.

After the initial shock of meeting the one behind the three books and the reveal of him being related to Stan was pushed aside, you presented yourself with the help of Stan. “H-Hi, Dad.” You awkwardly greet yourself.

His eyes stop on you and he freezes, eyes blown wide and mouth slightly ajar. He takes a minute to process the absurdity of the situation before he’s snapping back to consciousness. He blinks once, his mouth stuttering as he finds the right words to say. He then blinks again, stepping a cautious step towards you. Your name softly spills out of his mouth and your heart soars hearing your Dad finally utter your name again.

You take a step forward and then another and another until you’re face to face with him. Being closer to him allowed you to see how much he has aged since the last time you saw him. “Dad…” You whisper, throwing yourself into him.

A light wheeze escapes his mouth from the sudden impact of your body crashing on him. Once he recovers, his arms are quickly wrapped around you, hugging you with so much warmth and love you almost sobbed right then and there.

He snuggled his face against your hair, breathing in your familiar scent he missed so dearly while he was away. “We have so much to catch up on.” You say so quietly that he almost lost your words if it wasn’t for you being directly near his ear. He hums in affirmation, cherishing the long awaited reunion with his daughter.

“I feel like this is another part where one of us faints again.” Mable says in utter disbelief at the scene that unfolded in front of her. “Ohoh!” Soos laughed out. “I’m so on it, dudes.” As if on command his eyes roll to the back of his head and he faints flat on his back.

HEADCANON TIME!!

• You weren’t really expecting to talk to him much due to Stan wanting to talk to his brother, but after their fight, he came looking for you. When he found you, you were sitting on the couch that was outside on the porch. You were reading a book you recently purchased from the bookstore. Nose deep in your book, you failed to realize Ford standing beside you. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his trench coat. Quietly he asked, “Is there room for one more?”

• The night was spent with the two of you getting to know each other. From your favorite color to your favorite show, what food you like to eat and so on. Ford wanted to fully understand and know you as a person. He wanted to make up all the years he lost with you.

• The next day, you awoke to the smell of your favorite breakfast food being cooked. With haste you pushed your blanket off of you and slipped on your slippers and sped off into the kitchen where Ford was buttering the pan. He looked over to you and flashed you a smile. “I made you your favorite.” He said, motioning over to the table where he laid out your breakfast. “You didn’t have to do this.” You scratched your cheek, a small laugh of surprise leaving you. “I’m just doing what I always dreamed of doing.” He shoveled out his breakfast onto his plate using a spatula. “How’s the food, kiddo?” He asks, placing the pan and spatula on the dirty side of the sink. “Actually pretty good for someone who hasn't been in this dimension for over a decade!” You jest, taking another delicious bite from your breakfast. Ford jokingly rolled his eyes, ruffling your hair as he walked past you and sat down on his chair. “Already poking fun at me.” He said, shaking his head.

• Stanford knew he had to focus on his projects, he had so many things he left unfinished that he'd been dying to get his hands on the minute he stepped foot into his dimension. But he couldn’t seem to pull himself away from you. He loved seeing you interact with the twins, he loved watching how pieces of his personality shone through you. Like the way you’re so meticulous with where you put things, or how you were forever curious about the things around you, and even the abundance of questions you’d mutter to yourself as you discovered something new. That’s all of him right there, in front of him and he couldn’t grasp such a thought that you were his!

• He finds himself gazing upon baby photos Stan took of you when you were younger. Even if he’s angry at his twin currently, he’s forever grateful that he documented such beautiful memories in a scrapbook. “Y’know, I used to tell stories about you to her.” A shriek leaves Ford. He jumps forward, the scrapbook tumbling down his lap and onto the floor. “You idiot! Be careful.” Stan sneered, kneeling down to the floor to pick up the scrapbook. “Stanley!” Ford leans his head back, trying to regain his composure. “You scared me!” He says. “Yeah, yeah. I know.” Stan waves him off, grabbing the scrapbook and tucking it in between his arms. They stand in awkward silence, eyes darting around the place uneasily. “Did…” Ford starts, shattering the silence. “Did she like the stories you told of me?” Stan smiles fondly, nodding his head. “She loved them. She thought you were some stupid amazing superhero, no matter what I told her.” Ford furrowed his brows. “Wait, what do you mean by no matter what you told her?” Stan nervously laughed. “Hey, why don’t you keep looking at these photos! Wait here, look at this one. Haha! She’s trying to eat her toes, isn’t that adorable?” “Stanley.”

• Outings between the two of you were very common. He loved being tugged around the town of Gravity Falls by you as you pointed at various different shops and locations. You told him the reasons why you hated them or loved them, and some were tied to stories that happened within the summer. He seriously questioned how you and the twins survived so many times where you were just so close to death. The mall was a place where you and him resided the most. With the money he took from Stan, he paid for almost everything you wanted. Entering the shack with so many bags was a shock to everyone. “Woah! Did you buy the whole mall?” Mable jokes, grabbing one of the bags to help you with the load. “Basically,” you laughed, instructing Mable to rally Soos and Dipper to have a little haul of what you bought. Stan watched with a raised brow as you stumbled into the living room with Mable following closely behind. “Where did you get all the money to buy her all of that?” Stan asks. “Just stole some money from some hobo.” Ford said, walking into the living room to join in on the haul. Stan didn’t understand what he said and opened the cash register. When he saw all the money he had stored the day before gone, it all clicked.

• Adventures out in the woods is a must. Gathering the twins and your dad, all four of you venture out into the woods in hopes to find something new. “Why couldn’t Grunkle Stan tag along with us?” Mable asked as she kneeled down to pluck a flower from the dirt. “Because he’s being a wet towel.” Dipper muttered, scribbling down a rough drawing of the flower Mable was picking in a book you bought him. “So what kind of anomalies you three stumbled upon?” Ford questioned. You and the twins began to dump everything onto him, from when you started seeing them to when Dipper and Mable came. Ford couldn’t truly focus on what they were saying, mostly because it was a jumbled excited mess of words, but partially because he was astonished with the trio in front of him. They went through so much and yet they’re still so headstrong. He could definitely see a little bit of him in Dipper and Mable.

• Stan would find you and Ford fallen asleep on the couch or in his lab, all huddled up together and completely knocked out. Snores filled the room and he found it amusing that you and him both snores the same. Videos and photos were definitely taken by Mable.

• Ford would tell stories of his adventures in another dimension to you. Stemming from how he started from the ground up to him getting banned from many other dimensions for stealing parts. “You’re not so different from Uncle Stan,” You laughed, shaking your head. “What! It was only a few…hundred dimensions.”

• There’s times where you’d wake up in a cold sweat, afraid that your Dad finally coming back was just a painful dream your brain played on you. But when you would get ready to find him, you’d step on his stomach or back. “Ough!” Ford groaned out in pain. Being suddenly woken up from his sleep, he sat up, looking around confused. “What are you doing sleeping on the floor?” You sat back down on your bed, pulling the blankets over you. “Is there a problem with me sleeping on the floor?” Ford asks, looking at you with squinted eyes. “No, no.” You laid back down on your bed. “Go back to sleep. I’m better now,” You say, somewhat amused with Ford sleeping on the floor beside your bed. “Goodnight, I love you.” You brush your fingers playfully across his face to annoy him. He shoves your fingers away from his face, huffing out. “Goodnight,” He shuffles to his side, looking up to you with a small smile. “I love you more, kiddo.”

#stanford pines x reader #stanford pines x daughter #stanford pines x child #stanford pines #stanford pines x daughter! reader #stanford pines x child! reader #stanley pines x reader #stanley pines x daughter! reader #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls #dipper pines x sibling!reader #mable pines x sibling!reader #dipper pines x reader #mable pines x reader

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corroded-hellfire · 2 months ago

Note

Hurt/no comfort: shy!Reader slips a note in Eddie’s locker asking him on a date, but when he reads it, he just laughs and tosses it in the trash.

My brain needed to slip a soft landing in there in someway. So, there is no comfort for reader-in-the-fic, but there’s a little bit kinda sorta for person who is reading the fic. There’s a small gap if you wanna stop at the absolutely no comfort though! Did this make sense? Hope so.

Words: 1.2k

Today was the day. There had been a few times over the past couple of weeks where you’d told yourself that, too, but this was really it.

The note is clutched in your hand as you turn the corner to the correct hallway. One more deep breath and you force your foot to take one step forward.

Anxiety begins to creep up inside of you, threatening to seize your lungs and close your throat. To keep it at bay, you recite what the piece of paper in your grip says, over and over again.

Hi Eddie,

I would’ve asked you in person if I weren’t so shy, but here we are. I was wondering if maybe you would want to go see that new movie The Breakfast Club with me on Friday night? I know that might not be your thing, so I’m down for whatever you might want to do! Just let me know, okay? Maybe in our last period bio. Whenever Old O’Donnell stops droning on. I’ll see you then, I guess!

“Then with a little heart drawn next to my name,” you mumble to yourself.

Your sneakers squeal against the white linoleum tile beneath you as you come to a stop at Eddie’s locker. The silver plate engraved with “527” stares back at you from where it’s soldered to the metal.

With one last deep breath, you fold the letter up as tiny and as flat as you can before you slip it through the slats on the front of the locker door.

Quickly, you turn away from the locker. You keep your head down as you briskly walk towards the corner you came from.

Why are you running away like you’re leaving a crime scene? You ask yourself as you listen to the fast squeak of your shoes on the floor. Afraid someone is going to tell Eddie they saw you put something in his locker? Your name is already on the note, genius!

With a soft groan, you come to a stop and lean against the cool white brick wall just on the other side of the corner. You press your back flush up against the wall and let the chill help calm your body down.

Nothing you can do now, you tell yourself as you close your eyes and take a few deep breaths. The note is already in there. Now it’s a waiting game. It’s in Eddie’s hands.

Speak of the devil…

Boots thud against the floor as Eddie heads your way down the hall. His Hellfire shirt looks wrinkled, like he slept in it, but he sports his signature layers of leather jacket and denim vest over it anyway.

You adjust your position against the wall, trying to look more casual than conniption-y. He notices your movement out of the corner of his eye and gives you a small, quick smile that does nothing to help your raging heartbeat calm down.

You flash him a brief smile in return before heading the opposite way, farther away from him and his locker—or so you want him to think.

As soon as Eddie turns the corner to his locker, you spin around and make your way back to where you just were: in the perfect position to peek around the wall and spy from a distance.

Slowly, you stick your head out so you’re able to see around the corner. Eddie is standing at his locker, entering the combination. It looks like he’s whistling, but you’re too far away to hear.

The metal clanks as Eddie swings the locker door open, and you see the small white piece of paper that’s from you floating gently down to the floor. Eddie’s brows furrow in confusion as he crouches down to pick up the note. He slips the piece of paper between his lips to hold it as he shoves his backpack in the locker and pulls out a single yellow notebook.

Once he’s finished and closed the metal door, Eddie tucks his notebook beneath his armpit and removes the paper from his mouth. He unfolds the paper, and your heart feels like it’s unraveling with every motion to open the note.

You watch as his eyes scan your scrawl written in blank ink. Everyone else in the bustling hall disappears. There’s no one but you and Eddie. And the note.

It feels as if it takes Eddie an eternity to read the few lines. Your lungs burn, reminding you to breathe as you await some sort of reaction.

Then, a corner of Eddie’s mouth quirks up and your spirit is floating with hope. But the smile turns into a snicker, which turns into a chortle. With the cackling sound, your hope drops down below the hideous linoleum tiles that cover every inch of these halls.

Eddie crumples the note in his hand, and he might as well have done it to your heart. Nausea churns through you, coming on so fast that it’s dizzying. Your hands brace you against the wall, so you don’t fall—even if your legs give out, like they’re threatening to.

Eddie turns so his back is to you and he walks farther away. Parked in front of a window is a janitor’s trash can, which Eddie unceremoniously drops your letter into.

Black spots fill your vision, and you find yourself needing to take giant gulps of air. You are not okay. Escape. That’s what you need.

Sneakers protest their meeting with the linoleum floor once more as you push yourself off the wall and stumble towards the school exit. All the nerves that were previously fluttering around your body before have now turned to shards of glass, scraping and cutting you from the inside with every step you take. The people who had all disappeared when you were so focused on Eddie have now come back with a vengeance, appearing to multiply by the minute as you attempt to squeeze past them all.

The school doors are just at the end of the hall, but your spotty and blurry vision gives you a funhouse effect, making the distance to the door seem longer and more difficult than it is. Finally, your hands land on the silver bar and the biting chill of it brings you back to reality.

Hot tears are streaming down your face and hiccups force their way up your throat every few seconds. Snot is rapidly filling your nose and all you know is that you need to get out of here now.

You push the silver bar and the door opens, leading you into the bitter February morning that was awaiting you. Unfortunately, the first thing you’d done once you got to school was stash your jacket away in your own locker, but you’ll be damned if you step foot back inside that school today. Instead, you grit your teeth and rub your hands up and down your arms in an attempt at warmth.

A few yards away, your car sits, beckoning to you. Knowing you’ll finally be able to have the breakdown you so want to in there, you jog in the direction of your parking space, praying the tears flowing down your face don’t freeze against your skin.

Eddie lets the crumpled ball of paper roll off his fingertips and land in the trash can. He can’t believe it. He’s still laughing as he shoves open the door to his homeroom.

“Nice try, Jason,” he murmurs to himself as he finds his seat. “But I’m not falling for that one. Better luck next time.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson fic #request

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iarchmybaculaa · 4 months ago

Text

18+!

Tags/warnings⚠️: Alcohol consumption, club setting, misunderstandings, angst if you squint, long haired Jungkook, Reader is a brat, angry Jungkook, unprotected sex (please do not practice that irl), rough sex, spitting!, breeding kink

Word count: 3.6k

🎧 : Sticky Rice-Lil Gnar, Reminder-The Weeknd, Party Monster- The Weeknd

For my loves: Tasara & @hobicakess 🩷

Beta’d by Shaq🫶🏾

A/N: I randomly found an edit in my gallery that inspired this whole thing. HEAVILY unedited bc I’m extremely sleep deprived rn so pls be nice!

Fic takes place about 4 years before "All mine" ! Enjoy?

Being married to Jungkook has single-handedly disproved every doubtful remark you've heard from everyone trying to convince you that it would be ill-advised to get married so young.

Contrary to what you've been told, the spark between has not died. In fact, you think that you find something new to love about Jungkook every day.

His love has never once not been intentional and gentle. You've never experienced being with someone who is so in tune with your body, with your mind, with your soul. Jungkook sees loving you as a competition; his only rival being his past selves.

There is no adventure that Jungkook would want to experience without you. There’s no bridge he wants to cross without holding your hand; no dance he wants to do without you beside him….or rather bent over in front of him as you are now.

The low lights of club Euphoria had switched to a dangerously deep shade of red, casting a sinful glow on your already ridiculously seductive face. Your eyes were low, whether it was from the few drinks you'd had earlier or the thick cloud of hookah smoke that floated around the club, Jungkook didn't know.

What he did know however, was that he had the most beautiful woman in the world throwing her ass back against him, in a dress so tiny that your cheeks were becoming more and more exposed as he thrust his hips forward to meet yours.

You move in sync with the music, your bodies in perfect harmony as the people around you become a blur. In that moment, it's just you and Jungkook. You and your husband.

You feel the cool air travel further up your legs as you dance. You reach behind you to pull your dress down, more out of habit than anything. You hear Jungkook groan as your hand ‘accidentally’ presses against his crotch, and you can't suppress the small giggle that escapes you.

It's a low sound, so realistically, Jungkook can't hear it that well over the near deafening music…But he sees the way your body shakes a bit. You shake the same way when you laugh at your own jokes or Jungkook's clumsiness; and he knows you well enough that he can practically hear the sound in his head.

Fuck he's in love with you.

He's so lucky to have you. He can't wait to live the rest of his life with you, to have a family with you, to take you home and fu-

His train of thought is cut off by the harsh vibration of his phone in the pocket of his slacks. He grabs your waist to stop your movements, and you stand upright. You raise a questioning brow at him.

“It's Namjoon hyung” he mouths, pointing to the phone at his ear.

You roll your eyes and shake your head. Namjoon had been on a work trip to London for the past few ( painfully long) weeks, and he still refuses to acknowledge the time difference. You two have grown to accept it, even if it means that he calls Jungkook at the most ridiculous (sometimes inconvenient) times.

The crackle of the receiver lets Jungkook know that Namjoon is talking, but he can’t make out a word he’s saying. Jungkook quickly realizes that he couldn't possibly have this conversation inside the club, so he gestures towards the door.

“I'm going to take this outside,” he says with his lips pressed up to your ear. “Do you want to come with me? Or will you be okay ‘till I get back?”

“I'm a big girl!” You pout up at him, pushing his glasses further up his nose with your pointer finger . “I’ll be fine, go take your call! Tell Joon I said hi.”

He nods and plants a quick kiss on the crook of your neck. He strokes the side of your face with his thumb and promises to be right back, before he turns on his heels. You watch as his head disappears into the crowd, leaving you standing alone and regrettably bored.

With Jungkook gone, you have nothing else to do since you two had come alone. You think standing around in a club like someone with a lost shadow would be incredibly lame. So you do what any unoccupied, married person in a club would do, you make your way to the bar to get a drink…or two.

By the time Jungkook gets back you're just a little tipsy.

You're not a stranger to alcohol per se, but unlike Jungkook who's been around enough liquor to know what blends would be good for you (strong enough to make you feel good, but not enough to make you lose your inhibitions); you don't know much (not enough if you ask him). You think of calling him, but your phone is in your purse… perched on jungkook’s shoulder.

So you do the most logical thing you can think of, and you order the prettiest sounding drink on the menu. Who can blame you?

You’re just a girl.

Two cups of Serendipity later, you're back in Jungkook's arms feeling absolutely giddy and incorrigibly horny.

The lights in the club are a dark blue now, and the music is even louder. Jungkook looks exactly the way he did when he left.

Sexy as all fuck.

Long hair tucked behind his hair on one side? Check.

Denim shirt? Check.

Tattoos? Double check.

Damn.

MINE! MINE! MINE!

You're not sure where he put his glasses, but you make a mental note to ask him before you leave. You do not need a repeat of the Geum putdwaeji Sikdang* incident. You know from experience that Jungkook and contacts don’t mix; and it would take over three weeks for them to get replaced…Not a fun time.

And right now? All you want to have is fun.

Jungkook’s mouth is moving, but your brain is moving too fast (or too slow) to read his lips and you can’t hear him. But his hands pull you toward him by the waist and you lean into his touch.

Your back is turned to his front as you move slowly against him the second you hear “she’s saying baby saenggakaji ma” float over the speakers.

Jungkook moves in sync with you as he always does, but his hands remain at your waist, almost rigid. His touch is shy and..Timid? His hands don’t trail up towards your breast, or towards your belly button. You find it odd, and downright ridiculous.

You grab his hands to take them upwards, and you’re instantly confused. There’s ink on both his hands? You pause.

When did Jungkook get a sleeve on both hands?

His lips brush faintly against your ear, and you’re suddenly hyper aware of the absence of the cool metal of the rings that should be in his lip.

You don’t hear a thing except the erratic beating of your heart.

Then the inconceivable happens.

Jungkook stands in front of you, arms folded across his chest and eyes glaring at you through his glasses. The lights above you start flashing, and they bounce off his shiny, silver lip rings.

But if Jungkook is in front of you…who the fuck is behind you?!

You think you might faint.

As confused as you might have been about the situation, you knew two things for sure:

1. You needed to get as far away from not- Jungkook as possible

2. You're screwed.

Not-Jungkook seems to realize your mistake, and moves his hands from your waist so can step away from him; you rip yourself away from him as if his touch burns.

You open your mouth to say something to Real- Jungkook, but your brain goes blank.

You're too dunk for this.

Jungkook gives you a quick once- over to make sure that you're unharmed, before taking a gentle hold of your wrist. He tucks you behind him as he gives Non- Jungkook a piece of his mind.

The ringing in your ears has become so loud can't even hear the music anymore, much less their argument. Your brain feels like it's been doused in water, and you feel an unwarranted giggle making it's way up your throat. You swallow it down.

Now's not the time.

From what you can see, Real Jungkook and Not-Jungkook are having a very spirited conversation. Real Jungkook seems to be holding his composure quite well, until Not-Jungkook says something that causes his jaw to tick and his hands to form fists at his sides.

But instead of throwing a punch, Jungkook takes a deep breath and walks away, pulling you behind him.

Not- Jungkook waves at you.

You don't wave back.

Jungkook is silent as he leads you out of the club and towards your car. You say nothing as he opens the passenger door and watches as you sit inside.

“Do your feet hurt?” He asks

You shake your head at him. Still, he couches on his knees and unbuckles your heels, giving your calves a brief massage before he straps you into your seat. He closes your door and grabs a bottle of water from the back seat. He hands it to you as he settles behind the steering wheel.

“Drink.” He commands. His voice isn't necessarily angry but you can hear something bubbling beneath the surface. The restraint he's exercising is audible in his voice, and for some strange reason…it excites you.

He pulls out of the parking lot slowly, careful not to accelerate too fast so your water doesn't spill.

The fog around your brain is almost completely lifted by the time you've finished the bottle. Jungkook glances at you for a moment, and releases a satisfied hum when he sees the crumpled plastic in your lap.

He doesn't smile though.

His jaw is tense and his body is rigid in his seat. He isn't touching you and you don't like it.

“Jungkook,” you say, reaching over to touch his thigh

“Are you sure?”

You look at him confused. “Am I sure about what?’

“Are you sure I'm Jungkook?”

There it is.

You have the audacity to scoff at him.

“ Of course I'm sure it's you Jungkook. Don't be ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?! You were literally grinding your ass all over some random dude you thought was me but I'm being ridiculous?!”

Your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. You know that Jungkook has all right to be upset, fuck you're upset at yourself for making such a terrible mistake. Jungkook has all right to reprimand you, but your mouth just won't cooperate with your brain. All the brat inside you heard, was Jungkook rubbing in something that you were already very embarrassed and flustered about and it just didn't seem fair.

If you thought about it…This was all Jungkook's fault really!

“ Well it's not my fault that you look like every other Korean dude with a perm!!”

The car comes to an abrupt stop as Jungkook slams the breaks.

“Excuse me?”

You roll your eyes and cross your arms at your chest. Jungkook’s eyes flick down to where your tits are bulging, but only for a moment of course.

“Stuttering is your thing Jungkook. You heard me.”

“You’ve actually lost your fucking mind.” Jungkook marvels at you, completely in disbelief at your misplaced attitude.

“I should have bent you over my lap and spanked your ass raw in that fucking club for everyone to see… But I let you off so easy, because I knew you made the mistake because you were drunk; and this is the thanks I get?”

“No.” You quip, “I’m not thanking you in any way.”

The tension between you is as thick as it was during the first 3 months of you two flirting with each other. You were both in college, desperately holding on to the title of “study partners ” even though you kept finding yourselves in compromising positions.

You were both playing a timeless game of cat and mouse. A metaphorical tug of war. Jungkook would push and you would pull; now it appeared that you were having a rematch.

He sucks the pierced side of his lip into his mouth.

You want him so bad.

Jungkook’s eye twitches.

“You’re asking for it, you know that?” He asks, face so close to yours that you can practically taste him on your tongue.

“Give it to me then.” You challenge.

Jungkook leans forwards, and you close your eyes in anticipation of a kiss.

But Jungkook doesn’t kiss you. Instead, he sinks his teeth deep into your neck, though not hard enough to break skin.

You moan at the sting, reveling in the way his soft tongue soothes his claim.

He pulls away and runs his thumb over your lip, eyes darkening.

“Did he kiss you?” He grits out.

You frantically shake your head no.

It's then that you realize just how bad this could have truly been for you. Jungkook was right. You were getting off easy.

Jungkook pries your mouth open.

“Tongue out.” he says.

You loll your tongue out and look up at him expectantly for what you know is coming. Jungkook looks directly into your eyes as he spits into your waiting mouth. You swallow without being told to; it's almost like a reflex.

Jungkook is pleased.

“Who does that taste like, baby?”

“Tastes like you,” you reply.

Jungkook hums.

He grabs your hand and brings it over to his lap. Your breath hitches when you feel the telltale rigidness of a boner in his jeans. Your heart skips a beat as you realize how painfully hard he is.

You need him.

“What does that feel like, baby? Hm? Does that feel like me? Or are you not sure?”

You whine as he rolls his hips up into your palm. “It feels like you Jungkook, I want it.”

Jungkook’s face contorts into one of mock contemplation.

You hate when he gets like this, when he pretends to consider giving you what you want when you both know it's not going to happen.

"You want to know what I think?" he muses rhetorically.

"I think I've let you get away with a little too much lately. I've always told you that your mouth is going to get you in trouble, but I've never made good on that promise, have I?" He chuckles darkly. "Maybe it's time I change that, hm?”

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest and you feel a shiver of anticipation zoom down your spine.

“Unzip me.”

Your body is in autopilot as you undo his zipper and lean forward to take him inside your mouth.

He pulls you backwards by your braids, and brings his hand around your throat.

“You're gonna take me in your mouth and you're going to keep it there until we get home.” He growls out at you

“No licking, no sucking, no moving. By the time we get home I'll be tattooed so deep in your fucking brain that you'll never mistake someone else for me ever again.” he bites out.

But in true Jungkook fashion he brushes his lips gently against yours, then he shoves his dick down your throat .

The ride home is filled with the obscene noises of you trying not to choke on Jungkook's cock.

Your eyes are watering and your nose burns from how hard you've been breathing through it. Your chest feels hollow and your jaw aches, but you're too fucked out to care.

Jungkook's cargo pants are thoroughly soaked from the way your saliva has dripped all over him. You're sure it's beginning to get uncomfortable for him to sit like this: cock hard and throbbing and in your warm, wet mouth. Yet, he sits perfectly still; unmoving.

His breaths come out in slow, controlled gasps, and it becomes exceedingly clear to you that It's taking as much effort from Jungkook not to snap his hips upwards and fuck your throat; as it is for you to not give him an actual blowjob.

The realization is absolutely riveting.

When Jungkook pulls into the driveway of your flat, he lifts your chin up , and his dick slides out of your mouth with a wet plop.

You both try to catch your breath, chests heaving and hearts thumping. Jungkook tucks himself back into his pants, and takes a deep breath before he gets out of the car.

Like the gentleman he is, he walks over to the passenger side of the car and holds your door open for you. But when you don't make any efforts to get up, he bends down and looks expectantly at you.

You pout at him and point to your feet.

You're barefoot. Of course.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, grabs you by the waist, and tosses you over his shoulder. You squirm a bit, and Jungkook promptly delivers a warning slap to your ass which settles you completely.

He opens the front door and kicks it shut behind him, waiting until he hears the security alarm activate before he moves towards your bedroom.

He tosses you on the bed and flicks the light on. Your chin is slicked with spit, you tits are spilling out of your dress, and the curly hair in your braids are sticky to the thin sheen of sweat on your face.

You look a mess.

A hot, beautiful mess that Jungkook made. His pride swells, along with another part of him.

Jungkook turns his back to you as he takes his shirt off.

“You know I love you right?,” he asks, putting his glasses on the nightstand. He tosses his shirt onto the ground and walks over to the bed. “You know that there's nothing in the world that could ever make me stop loving you?” He asks, now face to face with you as he strokes your chin.

‘I do,” you reply, your voice comes out more of a whine than you actually want it to.

“That's great baby, because this is going to feel like I fucking hate you.”

***

You both cry out when Jungkook finally slips inside you.

You've come to accept that no matter how many times you've taken him, how many times you will take him you'll never not be taken aback by the way his cock stretches you.

The lights are on, and so you can see Jungkook in all his glory. You can see way his biceps bulge and the way his abs tense. You the way his face contorts as your pussy practically suffocates him.

“ You like what you see baby?” He taunts, “had to make sure that you can actually see who's fucking you hm? Wouldn’t want you to make another mistake now would we?”

He spits the word out as if it pains him to say, and translates that pain into a vicious snap of his hips that has you lurching forward, clawing at his chest.

His thrusts are all the same. Carefully calculated and deliciously hard. His tips brush against your gspot with every fluid movement of his hips, and all you can do is whine and beg.

At one point Jungkook slows down to a torturous pace. Pulling out of you the moment he's just shy of your gspot. You can't handle being teased, you won't. You decide to up the ante.

“Jungkook,” you moan out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he grinds into you “please make me cum daddy”

Jungkook freezes and his hips stutter.

You've never called him that before.

For a moment you regret letting it slip out of your mouth. That's until you see the crazed look that comes into Jungkook's brown eyes.

He wraps his hand around your throat and starts pistoning his hips into you.

“Daddy huh?” He grits out as your juices start leaking down your thighs and unto the skin of his stomach “ is that what you want baby? Wanna make me a dad? Hm? Maybe that way people will keep their fucking hands off you huh?”

“Jungkook please!” You scream, tears pooling in your eyes from how desperately you want the sweet release you've been denied.

“You gonna let me put a baby in you princess? Gonna let me stake my claim on you for everyone to see?” He demands as he stills to a stop inside you.

“Fuck, Jungkook yes! Please I'll do anything you want just please!” You cry

Jungkook finally drives his cock upwards, it's curved head hitting your gspot at the perfect angle. Your orgasm rips through your body so violently that you sink your fingernails so deep into Jungkook's bicep that you break skin.

You cum in spurts, coating him in a thick sheen of your arousal. Jungkook cums with you, no longer being able to resist the pleasure that your body was bringing him.

Jungkook's cum spills out of him in a long, steady stream. You feel the warmth as it seeps inside you, and you clench around him reflexively, determined to keep all of it inside.

“You wanna have my babies so fucking bad.” Jungkook mumbles into your hair, voice hoarse and laced with fatigue.

And do, you mean to say, , though it never actually comes out of your mouth.

Instead, you hug jungkook to your chest, legs wrapped securely around his waist as sleep consumes you.

Fin.

#jungkook x black reader #dad jungkook #bts smut #bts #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook

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