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If You Could Just Hold Me for a Moment, I’d Be Thrilled
At first, Emily tells herself that she’s imagining things.
Emily, Aaron and a surprise pregnancy.
-x-
Hi besties! This is a birthday present for my lovely friend @prentissinred <3
I hope you've had a day as wonderful as you are, and that you enjoy this fic!
As always, let me know what you think!
-x-
Words: 3.4k
Warnings: pregnancy, pregnancy complications
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
At first, Emily tells herself that she’s imagining things.
She puts the exhaustion down to the beautiful chaos she lived in. To chasing around after four kids - two of them toddlers and one an infant - and balancing her and Aaron’s careers with their family life. She puts the ache in her breasts down to the fact she’d recently dropped one nursing session a day now Ivy had started solids. She puts the nausea down to a sickness bug the twins had brought home from daycare, flu-like symptoms leaving both Violet and Hazel glued to Emily’s side for days until their fevers passed.
It’s only when she’s sitting on the closed lid of the toilet in the ensuite bathroom, a positive pregnancy test in her hands, that she can no longer deny it.
She was pregnant. Again.
She sighs, conflicting feelings swirling in her gut and adding to her nausea. She closes her eyes, tries to picture a new addition to their family, a fuzzy image that disappears entirely when there’s a gentle knock on the door.
“Em?”
She opens her eyes and presses her lips together, irritation she knows her husband doesn’t deserve licking through her chest, “Come in.”
He walks in, his shoulders tense and his demeanour nervous. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and stares at her, waiting for her to speak first before he finally relents, “Sweeetheart-”
“It’s positive,” she says, standing up and passing him the test, “I’m pregnant.”
It isn’t the first time she’s said the words and not been delighted, it’s not the first time her voice shakes as she tells someone, but it’s the first time it’s happened with him. It’s always been a moment of happiness, something she’d been planning, excitement and giddiness rolling in her belly as she took a test. This time, she’s anxious. Worried about how this will change their family dynamic again, how it will mean she’ll have even less time with her husband.
Aaron, who understood her more than anyone else ever had, looks at the test before he places it down on the counter. He tugs her into the hug she won’t ask for but needs, and runs his hand up and down her back, stamping a kiss against her temple as she leans against him.
“We can do whatever you want to do, Em,” he says, pulling back to look at her, “If you don’t want to do this-”
“I don’t want an abortion, Aaron,” she says, her firmness surprising even her, “I…we have the means and I don’t…” she blows out a shaky breath, “This just isn’t what I planned, what we planned.”
He tucks some of her hair behind her ear, “I know it isn’t, sweetheart.”
They were done. They had agreed they were done when she was pregnant with Ivy. It was a decision they were both happy with, but one that she’d doubted when Ivy was born. They hadn’t found out what they were having, had left it to be a surprise - something they hadn’t done with the twins because Emily said knowing two babies were growing inside of her was surprise enough for one pregnancy. She’d worried that Aaron would be disappointed, had let the exhaustion and the rush of hormones convince her that everything she knew about him, his kindness and unshakeable love for them family, fade into the distance.
He hadn’t even let her doubt phase him, the way she looked up at him with shining eyes as she held their newborn daughter against his chest as she asked if he’d wanted another son doing nothing other than to make him love her more. He’d kissed her forehead, and then the top of Ivy’s head, and he told her that he and Jack only ever wanted to be surrounded by more of her, and that he’d have a hundred girls with her if he could. Something that she was starting to wonder might be a possibility.
She chuckles, the sound sticking to a sob on the inside of her ribs, wet and painful as she’s overwhelmed by everything she doesn’t know how to name. “I always wish we’d met when we were younger, that we could have had more time together” she says, sniffing as she runs her fingers through his hair, “But now I’m starting to think if we had we’d have a football team at the rate you get me pregnant.”
He laughs too and leans in to kiss her, “We’ll make it work, sweetheart,” he stamps another kiss against her lips, “And we’ll love this baby just as much as we love the rest of them.
“I know we will. I already do,” she smiles, but it fades, something else she hadn’t considered finally dawning on her, “Oh my God, what if it’s twins again.”
___
She’s excited. Of course she is.
She feels flickers of it, feels it warm her from the inside out during her first ultrasound when she sees her, thankfully one, baby on the screen. She feels it when they tell the kids, when the twins and Jack are excited - all of them asking for a baby brother this time as if Emily’s womb was an order your own sibling service. Ivy doesn’t understand, she’s too young to, and Emily tries her best to not feel guilty when the baby snuggles against her, her tiny hand curled around the collar of her shirt as she naps in her arms.
Her excitement, and sparks of the fire of it that she feels, are firmly smothered when they tell the team. Their friends are happy for them, but it doesn’t take long for the congratulations to turn into jokes about them needing a new hobby. Derek asks if their television is broken, a smirk on his face that makes her furious. Aaron draws the taunting, no matter how good-natured it is, to a close with nothing but a clearing of his throat and the raising of his eyebrow. She doesn’t think she’s ever loved him more. He winks at her when the others aren’t looking, his touch soft as he squeezes her knee under the table.
She’s excited, but she doesn’t realise how much she wants this, how much it would break her heart if she didn’t, until she wakes up in the middle of the night to pee and finds blood in her underwear. It makes her panic, the grip of it so tight around her throat that can’t breathe let alone shout out for her husband. Her hands tremble as she pulls her pants back up and walks into the bedroom, shaking Aaron’s shoulder with more force than she realised she’d be capable of.
“Em?” He grumbles as he wakes up, his brows knitting together in a way she usually finds adorable. He sits up the moment their eyes meet, his tiredness melting away as soon as he realises she’s in distress. Her pain had always been his Achilles heel, the chink in his armour that she’d put there herself years before they were even together, the echo of her getting beaten by a sociopath as he listened in forever bouncing around his head, “What’s wrong?”
“I’m bleeding,” she says, her eyes skipping over to her side of the bed, to the darker spot on their sheets that she hadn’t noticed when she got up, “Something’s wrong.”
“Are you in pain?” He asks, and she shakes her head. He swallows back his fear as he stands up, his hand grasping hers as he smiles in a way he hopes she finds some encouragement in, “We’ll go to the hospital, okay? Get you both checked out.”
She presses her lips together, tries to hold back grief that feels preemptive, forcing it down into her lungs, the way she swallows it painful. He passes her a pair of her underwear and some leggings.
“You get changed, sweetheart,” he says, kissing her forehead, pressing enough love into her skin that she knows if it could fix everything bad that had ever happened to her it would, “I’ll call Jess and ask her to come over.”
Emily changes in the bathroom, dumping her underwear and pjyamas in the trashcan because she knew she’d remember this night every time she looked at them even if there was nothing wrong with her baby. She places a sanitary towel she’d found at the back of the cabinet in her underwear, ignoring how her tears splash onto it as she sticks it down.
Jess is achingly kind to her when she arrives and it makes Emily furious, her fists tight at her sides as she does everything in her power to not be rude to the woman who had never treated her anything less than kindly, who treated her daughters as if they were her nieces, her love for them no different to how she loved Jack. Aaron ushers Emily out to the car, their street eerily quiet as he opens the passenger door for her. She doesn’t say anything to him as they drive to the hospital the girls had all been born in, her hand on her stomach, on the small bump that had only just made an appearance, as she prays to a God she wasn’t sure she believed in. Guilt creeps up her neck, makes it itch and feels like it could burst open, like she’s tearing apart at the seams, every single stitch of her being torn open as she’s punished for not being excited enough. For her first reaction to this pregnancy, and everything she’d felt ever since, being mixed with an anxiety she hadn’t felt since she was only a handful of years older than Jack.
When they get to the hospital they are sent to a small room with a bed and an ultrasound machine and told to wait for a doctor to see them. Aaron is mercifully quiet, always somehow exactly what she needs him to be, and he holds her hand, the press of his skin against hers the only reassurance he provides. She didn’t need or want words that would feel empty, assurances he couldn’t make that he’d hate just as much as she would.
She jumps when there is a knock on the door, her hand briefly tighter around Aaron’s as the door opens and the doctor walks in.
“Hi, my name is Doctor Browne,” she says, her smile kind and infuriating as she walks in, “I understand you’ve had some bleeding?”
Emily nods, clearing her throat before she speaks, “Yes, not a lot, but enough.”
Doctor Browne smiles as she sits down next to Emily’s bed, “It’s always best to get these things checked. Any pain?” She asks, and Emily shakes her head, “Previous pregnancies?”
“An abortion when I was 15, twins who are three, and a 9-month-old,” Emily rattles off, used to explaining it all by now. A sentence she said without thinking now she’d said it countless times at countless appointments.
Doctor Browne chuckles, “Wow, you have your hands full.”
“All girls too,” Emily smiles nervously as she pulls her t-shirt up over her bump, “Our eldest, from Aaron’s first marriage, is our only boy,” her smile fades, “So far,” the words stick in her throat, caught on the grief she both doesn’t want to feel if she doesn’t have to but also wants to prepare herself for, “We’ve decided we don’t want to find out this time.”
“I’ll make sure not to give anything away.”
She closes her eyes as she feels the gel hit her stomach, the coolness of it barely registering as she makes a point of staying perfectly still, focusing instead on the feel of Aaron’s hand in hers and not the press of the ultrasound probe as it rolls over her skin.
“The baby is looking good,” Doctor Browne says, smiling kindly when they both look at her quickly, almost matching expressions of disbelief in their eyes. She smiles and turns the screen to show them, switching on the sound so they can hear the heartbeat as they watch it flicker on the screen, “Baby looks perfect for 18 weeks.”
“Then why is she bleeding?” Aaron asks, both of his hands now wrapped around one of Emily’s, dragging it up to his lips to kiss her knuckles as she continues to stare at the screen.
“Your placenta is very low, Emily. It’s covering the opening of your uterus,” Doctor Browne explains, placing the probe back on the machine and handing Emily some tissue to wipe her belly, “This would have been noticed in your anatomy scan in two weeks, but mother nature seems to have wanted to make you aware earlier than that.”
“Is it dangerous?” Emily asks, her voice shaking as she tries to find something close to peace between her relief and her fear.
“Most people who experience this go on to have a healthy baby, you’ll likely need a c-section, but that’s something your doctor can discuss with you when you next see them,” Doctor Browne smiles and stands up, “I’ll go sort out your discharge paperwork for you. And see if our printer is working so I can get a couple of pictures for you.”
Emily nods and Aaron thanks Doctor Browne, his grip on Emily’s hand tight as he sees the tension in her shoulders. He knew her, knew that she was teetering on the edge and that she wouldn’t let herself fall until they were alone. He’d always be there to catch her, to hold on as they fell together.
The second the door closes between Doctor Browne, Emily crumbles. Collapsing in on herself as her chest feels like it concaves, her hand covering her mouth as she tries and fails to capture a sob. Aaron is immediately on his feet, holding her against him, his fingers trailing through her hair as he kisses the top of her head.
“I’ve got you, Em,” he says, kissing her again, “I’ve got you,” he rubs a circle on her back, “You heard her, sweetheart. The baby is fine.”
She sucks in a shuddering breath as she pulls back to look at him, “I was so worried. I…know I haven’t always been excited, but I do love the baby, Aaron. If something was wrong…”
The way she’s trying to convince him, the desperate sincerity in her voice, breaks his heart. He cups her cheek and makes her look at him, “I know, sweetheart,” he says, kissing her forehead, “I know.”
“I’m sorry.”
He rests his forehead against hers, “You have nothing to be sorry for, okay?” He says, smiling as he kisses her, his lips briefly stamped against hers, “And everything is going to be fine.”
She nods and rests her head against his shoulder, blowing out a shaky breath as she tries to relax against him, “Of course it is, you’re here with me.”
___
“She’s beautiful.”
Emily hums and rests her head on Aaron’s shoulder as she reaches out to stroke her finger down her newborn’s cheek, desperate to have her back in her arms but content, for now, to watch Aaron hold her.
“Just like her sisters.”
Aaron tears his gaze away from their little girl to look at Emily, his eyes full of love and adoration she still didn’t feel worthy of even after all this time. He leans in and kisses her, his lips catching the corner of her lips, “And her mommy.”
She chuckles and shakes her head at him, “You’re sweet,” she says, kissing him before she turns her attention back to their sleeping baby, “We need to think of a name,” she says, adjusting the hat on her daughter’s tiny head, “I can only think of boy names.”
As soon as their little girl was born, as soon as the doctor held her up for them to see her over the partition between them and the medical team carrying out Emily’s c-section, she knew it was how it was always supposed to be. Her with a band of girls and Aaron and Jack, a family bigger than she ever could have anticipated, their presence somehow undoing the loneliness of her past. The love and everything that came along with it filtering backwards into her history, leaving behind invisible unbreakable threads to follow that would always bring her right back here.
“I have an idea,” Aaron says, passing the baby back over, noticing the twitching in his wife’s fingers as she unnecessarily adjusts the baby’s hat again. Emily smiles as she lays their daughter on her chest, a picture of contentment he’ll commit to memory.
Emily looks up, her smile turning into a smirk as she realises she’s staring at them, that he’s finished half a thought before he’s been distracted by her and their youngest, “What’s your idea?”
He looks at her, his confused eyes meeting hers as he tilts his head, “What?”
She rolls her eyes at him, “For her name. What’s your idea?”
“Oh,” he says, clearing his throat to shift the embarrassment that had collected there, “Daisy,” he says, trying it out. He’d thought about it weeks ago, sure that they would have another girl from the start - a thought he’d never shared with his wife. He would have been happy either way, but something about this felt right, as if it had always been his and Jack’s lot to end up surrounded by strong, confident women. He just hoped he still appreciated it when all four of his girls became teenagers within the space of three years.
“Daisy,” Emily says, looking down at the baby in her arms, feeling the weight of the name on her tongue. She’d say it so many times throughout her life - she’d yell it and whisper it and everything in between. She would write it down countless times too. On paperwork for schools and the doctor’s office, Daisy Hotchner, and she can picture it, can picture her as she grows up with her brother and sisters, “I love it,” she says, looking up at Aaron, “What made you think of it?”
“Well,” he says, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, settling down as he makes sure he has his girls in his arms, “It fits with the flower or plant name theme we have going on,” he says, smiling softly as their eyes meet, “Plus, daises grow in unexpected places. Sometimes you don’t even realise you want them in your yard until they are there.”
She hums, her lips pressed together to try and contain her smile, his love for her, and their children, as overwhelming as it always was, “I’m fairly sure daises are weeds.”
He rolls his eyes goodnaturedly at her joke, “If you don’t like it-”
“No,” she says, moving one of her hands from the baby’s back to capture his chin and pull him into a kiss, “I love it. I love you.”
“I love you too,” he replies, kissing her again before he places his hand on their daughter’s back, “And we both love you, Daisy.”
Emily kisses the top of the newborn’s head, “I hope you enjoy the peace and quiet we have right now whilst it lasts, Daisy-girl,” Emily says, “Between your brother and all your sisters I don’t think you’ll ever have a minute's peace again.”
“Jess said she’ll bring them by tomorrow,” Aaron says, kissing his wife’s temple, “Apparently Vi said she’s looking forward to meeting her, even if she did want a brother.”
Emily laughs, “Good,” she says, resting her cheek against the top of Daisy’s head, “I know I only saw them this morning, but I miss them.”
“They miss you too,” he says, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, his thumb lingering on her cheekbone, “But they’re fine, and Jess said something about letting them watch Frozen again.”
“Better her than us, I guess,” Emily quips, and they fall into contented silence, listening to Daisy breathe, the hustle and bustle of the hospital muffled by the closed door, “Aaron?”
“Yes, sweetheart?” He asks, placing his hand over hers on Daisy’s back, tilting his head so he can make eye contact with his wife. He furrows his brow at the way she smiles at him, a mix of soft and threatening in a way that was so deliciously her, a perfect example of the contradictions that make up his wife.
“If you ever get me pregnant again, I’ll kill you.”
#emily prentiss#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotchniss fanfic#emily prentiss fanfiction#hotchniss fanfiction#aaron hotchner x emily prentiss#hotchniss#aaron x emily#hotchniss fan fic
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absolutely adored Love Kills Twice by Rien Gray aka @theivorytowercrumbles (50% off at Smashwords until 9th March) - thriller F/NBi revenge romance in which a woman hires an (extremely hot) assassin against her abusive husband not knowing that he hired them against her too, 10/10 no notes other than that I would very much enjoy quite a few of Campbell's outfits (as well as their physique tbh)
#rien gray#fatal fidelity#need more of this series in my life immediately#happily there are three more books to read so that's good news for me#lovely to feel giddy about new things to read!
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just one thing
a/n: a cute little friends to lovers for lando's birthday!
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“shit, shit, shit,” you muttered, nearly dropping your phone as it vibrated with a call. the screen had a silly picture of your best friend, lando, thought it was the last thing you wanted to see right now. you pressed the green button, putting the phone on speaker as the light turned green.
“lan, what’s up?” you smiled. “how’s padel with everyone?” you listened as lando told you about the game with a few of his fellow drivers, though you weren’t truly paying attention. you got out of your car, two shopping bags in hand as you took out your spare key to lando’s house, opening the door and heading in.
it was lando’s birthday, and he wasn’t expecting you to see you in monaco today, but you wanted to surprise. so, you bought a plane ticket, rented a car, and drove to lando’s apartment with his presents in tow. you set your suitcase aside, taking out the gifts while also decorating the rooms a bit. you had also gotten a cake as well, wanting your best friend to have the best possible birthday to celebrate his twenty-fifth birthday.
“so what are you doing?” lando asked, bringing you out of your preparations.
your brain whirred, trying to come up with a plausible answer. “i’m, y’know, staying at home, reading a book.”
“right, of course you are,” lando snorted, and you could practically hear his eye roll. at least he bought the lie. “well, i’ll call you soon. i think we’re going to wrap up, so i’ll have some time once i get back home.”
“gotcha,” you replied, a giddy grin on your face as your plan was about to fall into place. “talk to you in a few, lan. and again, happy birthday!” you had called him first thing in the morning before your flight to wish him a happy birthday, though he just assumed you were waking up early for once.
after a short bit, you heard the door opening and footsteps walking in. “lando!” you exclaimed, rushing forward to tackle your best friend in a hug. “happy twenty-fifth birthday!”
at first, lando tensed up, having not expected you to be here. but his shock was replaced by incredulous disbelief, arms wrapping around you tightly. “how are you here?” he asked.
“i flew here, wanted to be here for your birthday,” you told him, eyes meeting his, which crinkled at the corners due to his wide smile. “now, i have some presents for you.”
you gestured to the kitchen island, and as lando followed your gaze, his jaw dropped. “you didn’t have do all of this,” he said. “i don’t need all these presents.”
“you don’t need them, but i wanted to give them to you,” you argued back playfully. “you do the same for me, let me spoil you a little as your best friend.”
after you nudged his shoulder, lando stepped forward and reached out to unwrap his first present, which was a new camera. he opened his mouth to say something, but you interrupted teasingly, telling him to open his other presents first.
one by one, lando opened his presents, revealing some clothes, a pair of shoes, a bracelet, a bottle of wine, and a small jellycat stuffed animal for fun. you also had a card that you had written a message in, and you watched lando’s smile widen as he read it.
you observed lando’s reaction as you showed him the custom cake you got with his face on it, making him snicker. “it better taste good,” he muttered good-humoredly.
“so you like everything?” you grinned, wanting to make sure you hadn’t messed anything up. lando chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into a tight hug.
“i love it, thank you so much,” lando murmured, head resting on your shoulder. you could feel the rise and fall of his chest and the warmth of his body against yours. glancing up, your eyes met his, a shy smile on your lips.
“you got everything you wanted, lan?” you joked, nudging his side.
lando’s gaze bore into yours, hands squeezing your hips ever so slightly. “no, not yet,” he said quietly, gazing at you. “there’s still one thing that i want, so badly.”
your breath hitched as he pulled you an inch closer, eyes never leaving his. “well, you need to tell me, so i can get it for you,” you said, attempting to be playful, though your breathless voice ruined it.
“do i need to spell it out for you?” lando chuckled, one hand reaching out to cup your cheek before sliding down to tilt your chin up. he looked into your eyes again- just to be sure- before asking. “can i?”
“yes.”
and that was all it took. lando’s lips met yours, stealing all the air from your lungs as your hands were pressed flat against his chest, fingertips brushing his shoulders. you would be lying if you said you hadn’t harbored feelings for lando beyond the surface, but never would you have imagined being here. kissing lando, your best friend. and although the thought seemed a bit nerve-inducing, everything about this felt natural.
you two pulled apart, both of you in need of oxygen after the kiss took up what seemed like eternity. “how long?” lando smirked.
“excuse me?” you asked, knowing exactly what he was referring to but deflecting.
“how long have you liked me?” lando clarified, a shit-eating grin on his face.
“for like a few years,” you admitted bashfully, cheeks the lightest shade of pink.
lando’s eyes widened, but not with the judgment you had thought; instead, his eyes were filled with delight and surprise. “so you’re saying if one of us had confessed, we could’ve been together for years?” he questioned, still in shock. you nodded, and lando’s hand reached out to squeeze yours.
“now did you get what you wanted?” you looked at him, wrapping your arms around neck. a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you pulled him closer.
“yeah, i did,” lando chuckled, leaning in to press his lips against yours again. your hands carded through his hair, tilting your head as you felt his soft lips on yours. your heart was practically palpitating, butterflies frenzied in your stomach.
as you parted, you leaned your forehead against his. “happy birthday, lan,” you grinned.
lando nodded, breath mingling with yours. “best birthday ever.”
#papayadays#papaya writes#lando norris#ln4#f1#formula 1#mclaren#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#ln4 x reader#ln4 x y/n#ln4 x you#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#f1 fic#formula one#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x you#f1 x y/n
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I’M STILL TRYING EVERYTHING
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⋆° 𐙚 ₊🧦☕🧸₊°⋆ ೀ₊°⋆
previous | kofi | masterlist
post prison!spencer reid x fem!reader
₊ ⊹
I'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me.
-mirrorball, taylor swift
₊ ⊹
summary: you’ve never had a date or a relationship that either didn’t work out or end in disaster. now that you have spencer, you’re determined not to let it happen again
cw: referenced bad past relationships, very very vaguely referenced past domestic abuse that honestly could be taken a different way, referenced child abuse (readers parents are STILL not it) again this is a criminal minds fic so references to graphic violence
tags/tropes: hurt/comfort (do i even need to say this? you all know who i am) insecurity, like one line of misogyny and it’s in the past and not brought up again, spencer being soft n worried, HEALTHY COMMUNICATION, spencer is just as gone for reader as she is for him honestly he's just a sap
a/n: back by popular demand !! seriously guys, you have no idea how much the support and comments and reblogs and asks means to me 🥹 the overwhelming amount of love for the first fic made me so happy when people started asking about a sequel i knew i had to !!
read the crossword on the collage for a surprise :)
this one goes out to all my girlies who’ve ever felt like they needed to be less in order to get a boyfriend or keep one. we’ll have our soft love just the way it was meant to be
⋆⭒˚.⋆
Spencer is a really good boyfriend.
Like… a really good boyfriend. You’re not sure if this is how having a real boyfriend is or if Spencer is just like this.
He’s so good to you. He’s just so- so him. You can’t explain it. Can’t put it into words.
He’s very patient with you. You’ve never explicitly stated it, but he’s picked up on your previous relationship experience- or more accurately, your lack thereof. The morning after you’d gone home with him, night consisting of nothing but easy sleep and warmth, he’d asked you out for real. Asked you if you’d go on a date with him, and you’d agreed, a giddy smile fixed firmly on your face.
But you still worry.
All it takes it one conversation with your parents to push things over the edge.
“Yes, dad. He’s very good to me.”
A laugh crackles over the line. “I tell you, your mother and I never thought we’d see the day.”
The words twinge uncomfortably in your chest. “Hey, I’m not that bad. I’ve just been focused.”
“More like uptight.”
“Dad—“
“You know, you still haven’t come out to visit your poor old parents since getting this so-called cushy job. And now you’ve got this boyfriend. You’re too young to settle down. Don’t you think we should meet him?”
Sometimes conversations turn so quickly they leave you stranded— scrambling to pick up pieces of what you thought was going to happen and piece them together to make something new. Something for the new route the conversation has taken.
You couldn’t hold back your sigh if you tried. “We haven’t been dating for that long dad, I don’t want to spring this on him—“
“Sweetie, if we don’t meet him now, why might never meet him. Who knows how long he’s gonna stick around?”
(Sometimes, in moments like these, for just a split second, you wonder how a father could say something like that, to his daughter. You wonder why, wonder what you did wrong. And then, you imagine Hotch saying those same things, and you can’t, and it almost makes you feel a little better.)
Your blood runs cold. “What could you possibly mean by that?”
“Well, you know how things have ended in the past. I’m just saying I’d like to meet him before he’s gone."
You don't dignify his words with a response.
"Come on, honey. I'm just joking with you."
"It's not funny."
"Don't be like that--"
"Goodbye."
You hang up, snapping the phone shut with a sigh.
The older you've gotten, the more conversations with your parents end up like this. You suppose it's the way you 'wasted your potential' or 'never made something of yourself.' They've always held resentment ever since you decided to become an agent. So you know not to take what they say to heart, because their words only come from a place of disappointment and displeasure. It's not a reflection of who you really are or what you've really accomplished.
Or at least, that's what Hotch told you when he'd overheard one of your phone calls. It meant more than you'd let on.
But your Dad's words linger in your head. They're irritating and sharp where they claw around in your head because they're true.
You can count on one hand the amount of romantic endeavors you've had. And from those, they all ended horribly. Your parents lost sympathy towards the end of your attempts, muttered words of needing to try harder to keep them, that you should be satisfied that somebody wanted you at all, that you should try to be less... you.
Try to be less... you, dear. The books and the facts- nobody wants those. Put some more effort into your appearance. Otherwise you'll end up all alone.
You'd tried to take their advice, of course. But the relationships that were fathered your parents direction were not loving. There was nothing soft or gentle or warm about them. You'd never felt more unlovable.
So when the incident with the shooter happened and you were lying on the lecture hall floor, blood coloring the carpet deep scarlet, you'd vowed to never let it happen again. That you were going to use your intellect and wit and passion for what you wanted to do- you'd promised yourself that if you survived, you would try to make your life your own, one step at a time.
This, of course, is easier said than done.
It's easy enough to refuse to let yourself get involved with men who are clearly only interested in your for your badge or your body --though the latter happens so rarely you really don't have to worry about it-- because you don't care about them. They're blips on your radar.
But Spencer? Sweet, sweet Spencer who makes you hot-cocoa and binge watches Doctor Who with you, even the later seasons, which you know he doesn't like as much but you love. Spencer who always has a grounding touch to offer, or a quiet command when you need him. Spencer who puts you first.
But there's a limit to these things, right? As far as you've seen, romantic relationship's are transactional, or conditional. Sometimes both. He can't just... keep doing this forever. It's too kind. Too sweet. It'll come to an end soon. Like, like the honeymoon era in early relationships. That's all it is. Plus, he's older than you, and you have no illusions about your unavoidable impulsiveness and naivety.
You've been told that your standards are too high before. "Struck by the hopeless romantic's arrow," your brother had said once, back when you were still in school, crying over a boy who'd told you that he didn't want to date you because you were too smart for a girl.
"That's not being hopeless romantic. There's no such thing as being too smart for a girl."
"There isn't," He'd amended, "But you're not going to have an easy time finding a guy. You of all people can't really afford to be picky."
He'd been right, in the end. So you're just... having a hard time figuring out how genuine Spencer's actions are. Guy's don't really act all romantic in the context of you. You've been told your whole life to be happy with what you get, and what you've had in the past is decidedly not lining up with how Spencer treats you.
It's a nasty little thing in your ear. Is it real? Does it matter as much to him?
When is it all going to end?
--
Rossi make's an offhand comment during a mission that you talk a lot when you're excited about the subject at hand.
JJ agrees. "It's a little unnerving when the subject is the bruising patterns of strangulation."
That little voice comes back.
Too much too much too much too much too much--
"It's useful," You protest, mouth dry.
JJ snorts, "I'm not sure about that. We need to know that the victim was strangled, not what happens to the body during blunt-force asphyxiation."
You'd grown quiet then, let the chatter and musings of the rest of the team wash over you.
Is that something Spencer finds annoying? You have always found things other's view morbid and disturbing fascinating. But JJ is right. No one wants to hear about that.
You brush the comment off, square your shoulders, get back on with the case.
Be better. Try harder.
You don't seen the furrow of Spencer's brows from where he's been watching you, or the quick look he shares with Hotch.
--
You'd never really thought about how clingy you can be before Emily makes an offhand comment about it while the two of you wait in line at a coffee shop. There's a couple in front of you, the girl all over her partner, kissing and giggling and hugging them close.
"Ugh," Emily groans once the two get their coffee and move on. "I could never understand the appeal of all that. I mean doesn't it feel stifling?"
A little stab of ice in your stomach.
"I don't know. I think it's nice."
"No, thank you. If I were her partner, I'd feel smothered."
You think about that conversation every time you take Spencer's hand or lean into his simple touches. They're invasive little things, the thoughts. It's not hard to pull back on all the touching. You never really ask for them in the first place- always too nervous to come off clingy. But you suppose just taking, taking, taking is just the same.
A quick shake of your head, not leaning in, a quiet "I'm fine." and that little nagging fear of smothering begins to quiet. It doesn't leave, but it does get quieter. For a little while, at least.
--
The hard part is trying to be less without noticeably being less. Spencer's smart- and he's a profiler. If you pull back too much too quickly, he'll notice, and you don't want to talk about this yet. You just need to make sure he'll stay. That things won't—
That you won't find out too late that you don't mean as much to him as he does to you.
That's the kind of thing that can't happen again. But ascertaining his true feelings and desires is difficult, because this is all kind's of new territory for you. You want to believe it's real. You really, really want to believe it's real.
But it's never been real before, so why would it be real now?
--
You've asked around (subtly and carefully, of course) about the type of girl Spencer's dated or drifted towards in the past. You know he said he wanted something soft and sweet, but you can't help but think that you're not really either, nor are you in line with his type. All things considered, you're a mess. Something tired-eyed and hollow is how you feel most days. Some sort of creature perhaps? You're honestly not sure what you are. You've spent your entire life being singled out or otherwise othered- always too smart or too different or too weird or too much or too loud or too quiet or too shy or too, too, too. Always too something. You have never been called soft or sweet. In a demeaning way, sure, but never with the quiet reverence that Spencer said it with that night.
It feels like a balancing act, a bit. Holding all those too much parts so close to your chest with one hand and shoving the ones you think Spencer wants with the other hand.
You could probably drop the one hand. The one holding the bad parts. But you're just not convinced he'll stay. You're not sure that he won't look at them with some form of disgust or pity or something else terrible.
You know the balancing act isn't sustainable— you'll fall eventually, and everything will come crashing down, but until then, you just keep trying. Trying to see if he'll stay, trying to see what to do if he won't. How to ensure he will, if that's something that's possible.
--
The act does not hold up for as long as you hoped it would. It comes crashing down with a glass. Literally.
You and Spencer are in the kitchen on a rare weekend off, cooking and drinking wine and swaying to some little old love song.
It should be perfect, except you're worrying that you look ugly while you're dancing, and you're probably singing off-key, and he maybe wants you to shut up so he can hear the song or dance in peace.
He reaches towards you and you just— your brain shrieks for a moment, all senses going into overdrive and you jerk backward, and your elbow knocks into your wine glass, and it falls, shattering behind you with a deafening crash.
Your entire body tenses, waiting for yelling or sighing or something, because you broke the glass, there's crystalline shards everywhere, the wine red and it looks like blood, maybe it is, maybe you're bleeding because the glass was really close to your foot when it fell but you're not sure because you can't really feel your feet or your fingers or—
"Don't move," Spencer says, voice serious, and tears well in your eyes, because this is when it all ends isn't it? "I don't want you to— honey?"
"Yes?" You croak.
His eyes are swimming with concern as he takes in your hunched shoulders, shallow breaths, and scared expression.
Understanding flickers in his features, and you resist the urge to hold your breath.
"Nothing is going to happen to you because of the glass, okay? Everything is fine. We're fine. I'm not mad. See? I'm not mad. I just don't want you to cut your feet on the glass. I'm going to clean this up and get your slippers, okay?"
"Okay." You breathe, voice hoarse. You wring your hands nervously as he leaves to retrieve the necessary supplies to clean the mess, heart beating so fast and so hard you're shocked you can't see it through your shirt.
He's not mad. He's not mad. You're not in trouble. Your parents aren't here. You're not grounded. You're not in trouble. He's not mad.
You're silent while he cleans, focused on getting your breathing under control while he babbles quietly about the history of glass making and the significance of types of wine glasses. The facts and history wash over you in steady waves, easing the tension in your shoulders bit by bit.
"I didn't think you were going to hit me, Spencer."
He continues cleaning. "It's okay if you did. I would never blame you for that."
"But I don't," You say, suddenly desperate, "I know you wouldn't, I've never been hit, not like that."
He's quiet for a few minutes. "Does this have something to do with how you've been acting recently?"
You freeze. "What do you mean?"
He looks up, leaning back on his knees. Making himself smaller, you realize. He's trying not to scare you again.
"You're dating a profiler. Also, I speak fluent you, and you've been chewing all your hangnails again. You only do that when you're stressed and pretending like you're not."
Your finger's twitch at your sides.
His hands come up slowly, and he rubs the length of your waist and hips. "We don't have to talk about it right now, but I think we should soon. I don't want you hurting all by yourself. You've had enough of that. That's what I'm here for."
He finishes cleaning up the glass, and finishes cooking dinner- he'd assured you he'd turned off all burners when the glass hit the floor, so nothing's burnt.
Once you've both eaten, he steers you towards the couch and wordlessly puts on Doctor Who.
The Pandorica is just about to open when you finally decide that if you don't start talking, you never will.
"My parents think you're going to leave me."
Spencer makes a wounded noise in his throat. "Why do they think that?"
"Because it's happened before. I'm, um. I'm not very good at getting into relationships. Or keeping them."
"But that's not your fault."
You sniff hard, rubbing your face with your sleeve. "It is though, isn't it? At least a little. I know I can be a lot. I know I'm not easy to—"
You cut yourself off, but the words hang in the air anyway; unsaid.
I'm not easy to love.
"Anyway," You say, pushing through the lump in your throat. "I just thought. I don't know. I was worried that you'd get fed up with me."
"No," He whispers, voice raw and full of something a lot heavier than fond. "No, no baby. I like that you're clingy and you ramble when you get excited, because it means that we get to talk about something together."
He shifts on the couch, sitting criss-crossed, ducking his head down to catch your gaze. "You know what else I like?"
You scoot over, mirroring his position. "What?"
"I like that you always know when I need you. Even when I don't think I do, you're there. Because I do need you. This isn't a one-way street."
His words hit you straight in your chest. "Oh."
He smiles, brows a little scrunched, brown eyes a deep pool of fondness and a splash of concern. "Yeah. And I'm thinking you need me a little more than you want to let on."
The seam of your pajama pants suddenly becomes the most interesting thing in the world. Amazing, the wonders of a sewing machine.
"Maybe."
"Mmm," He hums, "So if I need you, don't you think that you're allowed to need me?"
Your fingers pick and twirl a loose thread around. "...Yes?"
A large, firm hand covers your thigh, giving it a quick squeeze. "Yes. Not only are you allowed to need me, I want you to need me. Cause you know how you're always worried about being the best girlfriend? Well, I'm always worried about being the best boyfriend."
That makes you look up. "Really?"
He chuckles again, a little puff of air fanning your face. "Yes, really. I assure you, contrary to your past experiences, this is one of those bare minimum things in a relationship."
"That does not," He continues, immediately catching the brief flicker of doubt and shame on your face, "Mean that it is your fault at all for how you were treated in the past. You wouldn't expect me to suddenly become an expert in veterinary medicine just because I've been to the vet's office a few times, right?"
"When did you go to the vet's—"
"Shh, I'm being a good boyfriend," He holds up a hand, lips quirking up when you can't suppress a tiny giggle, "But seriously. You had no frame of reference, right? And you were being told it was your fault. But it wasn't. You didn't deserve that."
He lets his words hang in the air for a little while and allows you time to process this new information.
"What do I do now?"
"Well," He leans in, brushing his nose against yours, curls tickling your forehead, "You've got a pretty sweet deal here. Just three things. You have to keep letting me need you, let yourself need me, and one last little thing."
"What?"
You're so close your breaths are mingling.
"Let me show you what this is supposed to look like. How a man is supposed to treat a pretty girl. His pretty girl."
"Oh, well," Heat rushes to your cheeks, your stomach doing flip-flops, "That sounds pretty hard. I don't know how I'll hold up."
His hand comes up to hold the side of your face, his thumb sweeping strokes under your eye.
"You say that now, but I know what happens to you when I get romantic. You swoon."
You laugh. "I do not swoon."
"You will."
He leans down, capturing your lips in a soft, gentle kiss. It isn't a kiss-kiss. He's kissing you just to kiss you; just to let you know that he's here, that you have him.
It's sweet and perfect and exactly what you need.
--
Letting yourself need Spencer is marginally easier now that you know he needs you. Now that you know you're not going all in for someone who isn't.
He also starts needing you a bit... louder.
It's late evening, and most people have gone home except you and a couple other members of the team, all still working on paperwork.
Except Spencer, who's decided to drape himself over your shoulders like a cat, his chin resting on your head.
"Don't you have work to do?"
"Either finished it or it can be done later."
You shift your shoulders, smiling at how his grumbles vibrate against your back.
He moves his head, pressing his cheek to your head instead of his chin, heaving a deep sigh.
"Your hair smells good."
"Like what?"
"You're shampoo. Yours always smell better than mine."
You continue to work through your paperwork, Spencer a continuous and solid weight against your back.
"Is this even comfortable for your back at all?"
"Doesn't matter. Need girlfriend time."
He can't see it, but you're sure he knows how hard you blush.
--
Spencer's cooking the two of you a late breakfast in the kitchen of his apartment, hair still all mussed from sleep. He's quite the sight. You can't stop staring.
You're sitting on the counter, still dressed in your pajamas, legs swinging.
"You wanna know something cool?"
"You know it,"
"Butterflies and moths can drink blood and tears. There's nutrients in them. Purple Emperor butterflies are especially known for this. It's called mud-puddling."
"So you're telling me I should make sure I bandage any open wounds before I go to a butterfly house?"
"I guess. I can't imagine they'd be able to drink enough blood to actually cause any damage."
"Maybe we'll have to go to a butterfly house. For research."
"Should we get dinner afterwards?"
"We'll deserve it, you know, for all the hard research we'll have done."
"Hmm. Yes, I suppose so."
--
Spencer's bed is infinitely more comfortable than your bed. You're pretty sure it's a combination of the fact that it's the only thing in the entire world that smells so much like him and the fact that he spent part of his large FBI paycheck on a fancy mattress. Back support is very important to him.
You're doing a little reading before bed, shamelessly sprawled all over him while he does his own reading. You've got a leg hooked over his hips, the other tangled with his legs, and your arms and head pillowed on his chest. You move a little every time he takes a breath, and more than once you've paused in your reading, mesmerized by the feeling.
He shifts under you, setting his book down on his night stand and making himself more comfortable.
"Should I move?"
"No," he says, voice deep and gravelly with sleep. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush to him, face pressed to the crook of your neck. He breathes deep, scruffy stubble scratching against your skin. "Like you close. Good for sleep."
Even with the lamp on, and your book in your hand, you fall asleep soon after him.
--
It's an ordinary evening for the two of you. Discarded dishes sit on the coffee table in front of the t.v, neither of you paying them any attention, wrapped up in each other and eyes glued to the screen.
You look up at Spencer who's watching Doctor Who with the focus of a man who's never seen it, even though you know for a fact he's seen it before, several times in fact.
"I want to know the things you like," He'd said simply, the one time you'd asked why he takes your nightly Doctor Who watching so seriously.
And tonight's no different. Tonight, he looks... well, he looks like Spencer. His face illuminated by the TV screen, his hair all mussed from you running your hands through it earlier.
And it just kind of all hits you at once. You know.
"I love you."
He looks down at you, his expression soft and surprised. When your words register, his expression is so sickeningly fond and happy you can't help but lean in, burying your face in his chest. He rubs your back consolingly, then presses a little kiss to the crown of your head.
"I love you too."
⋆⭒˚.⋆
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if it's a dream (i'll come around)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/6855576e8538786c3ca4cff6faf75b45/e2a94b0b36744c1e-be/s540x810/7befa0687427ec2e2a47c8cea92c6e3010e91cc2.jpg)
— request: jeongguk + yes or no - jungkook
— pairing: jk x f. reader
— genre: fluff
— word count: 3.1k
— warnings/tags: idol!jk, college student!oc, best friend!jk, most likely inaccurate desc of new york, jk is still pining, jk orders food excessively (again), cliches (sorry)
— summary: something in the new york air makes jeongguk feel a rush: a rush to admit, a rush to tell, a rush to take a leap. he's just not sure whether you feel it too.
— author's note: it's finally here!! i'm sorry for taking so long to write this request. thank you areyousure!jeongguk for inspiring me to finish this request. hah. i hope you still enjoy!! (its unedited. maybe i'll come back someday to edit.)
a continuation of opposite of sun and light of the morning. please read the first two parts before reading this!
masterlist
Jeongguk never thought that it could be so hard to walk around New York.
There are people everywhere, going in a thousand different directions than him, and they walk so fast Jeongguk struggles to keep up even with his long legs. The shops he caught his eyes on were always full too, making him turn away from the door and look for other places that aren't so filled to the brim. Maybe he should’ve gone somewhere not as touristy as Times Square.
But above all, the hardest part of his stroll today is walking alongside you and having to feign nonchalance about it.
Jeongguk’s life as a singer doesn’t really allow him to have much free time, and even when he does, you either have work, class, or anything in between. As a result, the both of you can’t meet often. Jeongguk is so used to just seeing your face on his phone screen, talking to you via a video call connection, that seeing your form walking beside him throws him off balance.
It’s a good thing your face is mostly covered by the camera in your hands, otherwise Jeongguk would’ve spent the entire day with a blush dusting his cheeks just from holding eye contact with you.
“Do you want to go somewhere else?”
Jeongguk squints his eyes past the camera lens covering your face, searching for your eyes which are shaded by the faded black cap sitting on your head. You only respond with a shrug, gesturing towards the camera as if to remind Jeongguk of its existence. He sighs, lifting your cap with a finger so he can look at your eyes. “Bun.”
“You’re not supposed to talk to me, you know?” you huff, trying to balance the device in your hand so Jeongguk’s face is still in frame. “I’m your cameraman for today, not your best friend.”
Jeongguk chuckles. “Camerawoman,” he corrects, “and who says I’m not allowed to talk to you? Do you think I talk to myself the entire time I’m filming vlogs like this?”
“Seems like it,” you say. “Sometimes they’re funny, but most of the time they just make me think ‘what even is he saying?’”
A slow grin spreads on Jeongguk’s face, his eyes still trained on you instead of the camera. When you look away from the small screen of the device in your hand, Jeongguk feels like his smile could split his face into two, and it must look bizarre on camera, but he doesn’t care. What he does care about is—
“You watch my vlogs?”
Suddenly, Jeongguk feels like he is not a popular singer with fans all over the world who tune in to his regular vlog updates, but just Jeon Jeongguk, a boy with a crush to impress. The way you unintentionally confirmed that you watch his vlogs makes him feel all giddy inside that it slipped his mind that you already said the same thing this morning in his hotel room.
Maybe this is what people mean when they say love makes one stupid.
“Only to see what other stupid shenanigans you do this time,” you mumble, dabbing around your face with the back of your free hand. It suspiciously looks like you’re trying to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks, but Jeongguk immediately throws that thought away from his mind. It must be the New York heat that’s making your face hot like this.
“Just admit you enjoy seeing my face on your phone that much,” Jeongguk says cheekily, settling for a response that’s annoying, teasing, but familiar for the both of you. Maybe he’ll address the not-blush on the apple of your cheeks some other time.
“Where was this confidence about me watching your Times Square performance, huh?” You punch his shoulder lightly, which he’s sure makes the image of him on camera shake and blur. “Saying I ‘ghosted’ you because your performance is ‘bad’. What nonsense was that.”
“Hey, I was really worried about you, okay?” Jeongguk pouts. “Besides, I still need your opinion on my performances, whereas my vlogs are usually just me messing around. It’s different.”
Whatever response you have prepared in your mind gets interrupted by your phone ringing, which startles you so much you almost drop the camera from your hand. Good thing Jeongguk has fast reflexes, immediately enclosing his hands around yours before you could do any damage to the device. Upon checking the caller ID, your expression turns to one of worry.
Jeongguk takes the camera away from you. “Take the call,” he says. “I’ll just be here.”
While you step away to do just that, Jeongguk takes the opportunity to finally pay attention to the camera that he has been ignoring for the past few minutes, checking himself out on the small screen and running his fingers through his hair while holding eye contact with the lense. He goes on social media often enough to know that his fans will cut this specific clip from the vlog and fangirl over how good he looks while doing that.
Sometimes he wonders whether you see those clips and have the same reaction as his fans. Do you see them and scroll past them like they’re nothing? Do you scoff at his antics? Do you shake your head with a small laugh?
There’s also a possibility of you not even seeing those clips at all, but Jeongguk likes to think he’s popular enough that his clips can’t help but still end up in your feed. (Also, it hurts his little heart too much to imagine otherwise.)
You come back to him from your phone call with anxiety written all over your face. Jeongguk doesn’t even need to inquire before you squeak out your concern yourself.
“The deadline for my midterm paper has been moved. It’s now due in five hours. Jeongguk, what do I do?”
The both of you end up going back to Jeongguk’s hotel to fish out your brick-ass laptop from your gigantic backpack, the camera in his hands still recording. You’ve told him that he could continue exploring New York on his own, bringing the camera noona like the initial plan was, but Jeongguk insisted on coming with you instead. Why would he go with anyone else when you are here?
Still, though, because he doesn’t want to lose the sense of exploring a new place, he drags you to a dessert cafe near his hotel, offering to hold your laptop in his arms while you walk the short distance to the cafe. Despite your protests, Jeongguk manages to convince you to leave the camera on for the entirety of this laptop fiasco, capturing every moment from the laptop tug-of-war in Jeongguk’s hotel room to his grin in response to your sulking face when you’re both seated in the dessert cafe.
His video editor would hate him for this, but Jeongguk doesn’t care. You’re here, in New York with him, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try his hardest to preserve any memories you make here.
“I don’t understand why you’d rather be stuck here with me than be out there exploring sunny New York in all its glory,” you huff while waiting for your laptop to turn on. It takes a while, Jeongguk notices, but your pout prevents him from saying anything about it. “What idiot has free time in New York and chooses to spend it cooped inside some random cafe?”
Jeongguk pretends to adjust the camera sitting on the table—angled in a way that it captures his face only—so he doesn’t have to look at your face when he says his next words: “Your idiot, Bun.”
You level him with a flat stare. “So you admit you’re an idiot.”
If it means being yours, sure, Jeongguk thinks. He really should stop thinking thoughts like these lest he blurt them out in front of you, on camera.
“I’m gonna order, what do you want, Bun?” Jeongguk asks as an attempt to steer the conversation away from idiots with feelings.
You look up from your (finally on) laptop screen with your head in your hands. “Anything except americano,” you mumble. “Thanks, Jeon.”
“Sure, Bun.” Jeongguk stands up from his seat, grabbing the camera to bring with him to the cashier. “You sure you don’t want anything else?”
The way you shake your head dejectedly is so uncharacteristic of you, given you’re both in a cafe filled with the smell of baked goods—something that usually brings a light of excitement into your eyes. Jeongguk can only imagine how stressful it is being a college student and having your midterm deadline be moved to hours earlier, and to experience all this while being jet lagged from a 14-hour flight prior surely doesn’t help.
Jeongguk has to physically hold himself from ducking down to engulf you in a hug, squeeze his arms around your frame until your frown is turned upside down and he can bear witness to your smile once again. For now, he can only wish that the cafe sells the type of bread you like so he can at least alleviate some of your burden with the sweet treat.
When he goes to the cashier to order, his polite smile is responded with a gasp from the cafe worker, clearly recognizing him as the popular singer. His smile turns into something more genuine—albeit a bit shy also—when the worker mentions that she’s a fan of his. After exchanging some pleasantries with her, Jeongguk proceeds to order. He just doesn’t realize how many desserts and pastries in the display case he’s pointed at until the worker asks him a question.
“Are you here with your crews?” she inquires, still tapping away at the computer screen in front of her. When Jeongguk only stares at her with wide eyes, she continues. “We can provide individual utensils for each of you if you’d like,” she offers.
Oh. Oh. Jeongguk thought she was asking for conversational purposes. “Uh, just two sets would be fine. Thank you.”
Still, it doesn’t register in his brain that he’s ordered too many pastries for two people until he’s coming back to your table with only both of your drinks on the tray in his hands. He sets your drink down next to your laptop, on which you’re typing furiously like you’re a madman chased by a tight deadline (in a way, you kind of are.)
Only when three cafe workers come back to back to your table to drop off his order of various kinds of desserts and pastries does he realize that he might have gone overboard with his order. Jeongguk can only flash a guilty smile your way when you tear your eyes away from your laptop to gape at the array of desserts in front of you.
“Are you trying to feed an entire village?” you ask incredulously.
“Hehe,” Jeongguk offers. “I was thinking about you and how you looked so stressed out because of your deadline and I just … ordered pretty much everything … for you.” He scratches his head sheepishly while setting the camera to its initial position on the corner of the table. He hopes the camera doesn’t pick up the way his cheeks blossom with heat. Or if it does, he hopes the editor cuts this part out.
Jeongguk doesn’t know if he imagines this part or not, but your eyes soften at his words and your next words are more gentle in tone. “Thank you, but there’s no way I would be able to finish all of these by myself.”
“Did you forget that you have Jeon Jeongguk for a best friend?” There’s a smug smirk on his face now, replacing the sheepish one he was sporting a few minutes ago. He likes it when you’re soft with him, vulnerable in a way only he’s allowed to see, but that’s exactly the problem: you’re both on camera, and whether or not this gets shared to the world, it’s still not as private as he would’ve liked. So he’s back on his annoying best friend persona to stop your vulnerable side from coming out.
You roll your eyes at him, but there’s a sliver of a smile on your lips.
The both of you spend the next few minutes enjoying your desserts and drinks, with Jeongguk cutting the desserts into bite-sized pieces so you can eat them with ease. He also does not forget his job as an entertainer, showing each and every one of the desserts to the camera and making sure his delightful hums are loud enough for the camera to pick up. He’s humming along to the song being played in the cafe while chewing when it suddenly plays an intro of a song he knows by heart—and judging from the way you look up from your laptop, you do too.
“Did they know you’re here?” The smile on your face is teasing.
“The cashier recognized me, said she’s a fan,” Jeongguk explains, turning his head in the direction of the cashier, trying to find the aforementioned worker. Upon making eye contact with her, Jeongguk mouths a thank you! with a smile, which she responds with a thumbs up.
“You must have made her day by coming here. Her whole week, even,” you chuckle, going back to typing on your laptop. The smile quickly drops from your face as you’re forced to go back to thinking mode for your midterm paper. Jeongguk nudges a fork full of pastry into your hand, silently asking you to eat.
“Then would you still say I’m an idiot for choosing to be here with you?”
Jeongguk said he’d leave this topic alone, revisit it later when he’s got the courage to do so, but what can he do? Your presence here with him makes him overwhelmed with feelings that sometimes it slips in between his words.
The only response he receives from you is silence. Jeongguk doesn’t know whether it’s because you didn’t want to respond or you simply just didn’t hear him. It’s most likely the latter as any attempt he makes to make you eat the desserts are useless as you’re too immersed in your paper. He ends up just feeding you bites after bites of desserts, grateful and giddy that you take them without protests as you’re typing.
As he’s cutting up more pastries for you to eat, the song changes to ‘Yes or No’, the fifth track on his latest album that he performed live two days ago at Times Square. He remembers you telling him that your friend, Yeseo, became a fan after listening to this song. Jeongguk tries to suppress a smile by biting his bottom lip as he listens to the lyrics of the song.
Are you feeling the rush?
Are we falling in love?
Say yes or no
In an interview, Jeongguk told the public that no songs from his album are based on his personal life, although he hopes he still delivered the messages of the songs well enough. What he doesn’t say, however, is that he thinks of you whenever he listens to or performs this song. It’s a song about a person in love and still wonders whether the other person is feeling the same way. Sometimes he wishes he could be honest and sing the words to you, pour out his feelings along the way, and he wishes you could feel the same way.
Jeongguk stops his activities of cutting desserts into bite-sized pieces and leans his back against his chair, staring at you. You’re still hyper-focused on your paper that you don’t notice his gaze, typing away on your laptop without a care for the love pouring out of his eyes.
Jeongguk knows you love him.
You love him enough to answer his video call at two am when you were studying. You love him enough to sacrifice sleep to watch his performance. You love him enough to book a flight to New York immediately after even though you still have a midterm paper to finish. You love him enough to walk around JFK with a heavy backpack hanging off your shoulders. You love him enough to join him exploring New York instead of resting off your jet lag.
But does that mean you love him enough to return his feelings the way he wants you to?
As he ponders the answer to that question, his hand moves on its own accord to continue feeding you the dessert he has cut up. You continue accepting the food he feeds you, and Jeongguk thinks maybe he needs to stop being selfish and just be content with whatever he has with you right now: friendship.
Although, in this moment, feeding you desserts while you do your paper, he feels like your college boyfriend he wished to be nights ago when you were a mere video on his phone. He already dresses the part—jeans and oversized hoodie—and feels the part, but that’s the thing about parts, isn’t it? That they’re not real, that they’re only there in his head.
You have cream on the corner of your lips from a particular big cut of dessert Jeongguk just fed you, and it feels like autopilot when he leans forward to swipe the cream off your lips with his thumb. He slots the thumb in between his own lips, sucking the cream clean off his skin. The innocent round of his eyes are met with the shocked round of yours, unblinking as you stare at the thumb previously on your lips, now on his.
“What?” he asks dumbly.
You shake your head. There’s an unmistakable crimson on the apple of your cheeks. “Nothing,” you say, clearing your throat. The blush on your face remains, and if Jeongguk’s sight serves him right, deepens instead. “Just, remember that you’re on camera the next time you want to do that.”
“So I can do it again if I turn off the camera?”
Jeongguk surprises himself by how steady he sounds. A tad too serious, too, and if he’s not careful, you might take it that he really wants to do it again, for real. His heart hammers in his chest as his hand inches towards the camera, fingers ready to turn the device off.
“Jeongguk,” you say slowly in a warning tone. “Namjoon will kill me if you try anything funny.”
Letting out his signature big grin, Jeongguk retracts his hand from the camera.
“Sorry, Bun. I’ll let you finish your paper in peace now.”
If you have cream on your lips again, maybe he’ll swipe it off with his lips instead. Maybe later, when he has the courage to. Maybe later, when he’s let you know how he really feels.
Maybe, maybe, maybe.
a/n: thank you for reading! i still have 1 (one) more idea for this couple pair of bestfriends but not sure if i have the brain capacity to actually write it out ahaha let me know if you want to see more of them though :D
#bts#jungkook#jeon jungkook#bts jungkook#fanfic#fic#bts fic#bts fanfic#bts au#bts college au#jungkook college au#jungkook drabble#jungkook oneshot#jungkook au#jungkook scenarios#jungkook fluff#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#idol!jungkook
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I just read the baby trapping HC’s… what if it was the reverse? reader baby trapping THEM
I think that depends entirely upon how cleverly you went about it! I’m gonna answer this with the assumption that they match your freak on the matter lmao
cw: dubcon, baby trapping
And as a preamble: it’s literally so easy for you. For any of them. Because quite honestly if they’re hard, and you say you’re on birth control, they’re gonna believe you. And really, most of them probably would’ve just assumed you were if you let them hit it raw. But we’re gonna say you lied about being on the pill for this ask.
Gaz is such a sweet guy. He’s literally just like “I’m happy if you’re happy, love” when you tell him the news. These things happen, and he has no reason not to believe you, right? What does it matter as long as you’re both happy?
Soap has his suspicions about it. But again, it’s not like he was really pressing you for reassurance that it was safe when he came inside you— when he gets like that, the dog in him takes over and there’s no stopping him. And maybe he’s not sure initially, to be honest, but then he thinks about a little bundle that has the same eyes as you, and he just can’t bring himself to be upset. Even if you are a liar.
Ghost, regardless of how he feels on the news, is going to investigate. He can’t help himself. Fucker is nosy. And you would’ve known this! So you’ve got it all set up for him to find. Water glass on your nightstand, the drawer just slightly ajar— not even enough to see inside, but enough to make him curious. He opens, sees the round of pills, and the timing all checks out. All taken right up until recently— when you tested positive. And you’re not careless to leave them in the trash. They were flushed. And from before that— you have drawer in the kitchen where you often shove the stray contents of your handbag. And there are receipts. A few months worth, from the pharmacy, with exactly what you bought. If you have a menstrual/symptom calendar app on your phone, it’s all logged. There are notifications in your reminder app telling you to refill your prescription. A number in your contacts that matches up with the doctor listed on the prescription. It’s the fact that it’s too neat that tips him off. Every piece of evidence he could’ve ever asked for is there, and that’s how he knows it isn’t natural. And it makes him smile. It’s touching— how much care you put into securing him in your life forever. Kid’ll be a terror, with the two of you as the parents. Too capable.
Price had a feeling in his gut when you told him you were on the pill. He thought about pulling out just to see how far you’d take things. In the end, finishing inside of you was like calling your bluff to him. He’d be fine with waiting a month or two to see if he was right. In the meantime, he’ll be looking at paint swatches for the nursery.
König is not looking a gift horse in the mouth. But if he does find out, he’s actually grateful. Saved him the trouble of asking you to have his baby, which was just one of a few questions wracking his nerves when it came to you. And this provides him the perfect opportunity to ask you to marry him! Doesn’t have to torture himself with sussing out your ring size, the kind you’d want, waiting for just the right moment. He asks you when you tell him you’re pregnant— it’s like everything is coming together. It’s a fairy tale ending for him!
Nikolai confronts you when you tell him that you’re pregnant. There’s a sly smile on his face. He teases a bit. Isn’t that just so strange? That you’d be unlucky enough for that tiny little chance of it failing was enough. And he has a way of making you squirm, of prodding you until you tell him what he wants. You can’t help but smile when he smiles, feeling a little giddy. He makes it seem all light and cute— so you do spill the truth. And he’ll pick you up and spin you as he laughs. His malyshka is so naughty, isn’t she? Lying to him like that, like he wouldn’t find out. Like wouldn’t give her a baby just as soon as she asked. Like he wasn’t planning on pulling a similar move in the near future.
#writing#cod fanfic#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#john soap mctavish x reader#simon riley x reader#könig#john price#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#johnny mactavish x reader#john price x reader#captain john price#kyle gaz garrick#kyle gaz garrick x reader#konig#konig x you#konig x reader#könig x you#konig call of duty#könig x reader#könig call of duty#Nikolai#nikolai cod x reader#cod nikolai x reader#cod nikolai#nikolai x reader#cw dubcon#cw babytrapping
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25 predictions for 2025 (pick-a-card reading)
happy new year sillies <3 01-01-2025 ☆
disclaimer: all of my readings are just for fun, you write your own story every day of your life, dont let me tell you how to live it
pile 1 > pile 2 pile 3 > pile 4
pile 1
biggest theme: change
reflexion and redirection are major elements of the new year
breaking free of past shackles : discarding old things
miracle year, a lot of wonderful things are coming
be selfish. you are in charge of your own happiness
you will learn to love yourself this year
fulfilling year especially in terms of career or academics. make sure to properly prepare in order to gain an edge over others
early bird gets the worm mentality
"winter arc" mindset the whole year. "lock in"
first six months will be very busy, you'll focus on yourself and not have the time for romance
learning how to collaborate with others
big lesson: learning how to work through burnout
august 2025 will be a very happy month for you
potential summer fling, will reginite flames you didn't know you had
some kind of soul fulfillment, could potentially be romantic or personal
imbalanced feminine energy, learning to reconnect with your divine feminine
a turbulent period will occur (im hearing mercury retrograde)
last half of the year might be grey
sleepy energy, taking things slower
make sure to rest, dont push yourself to move when sluggy
you're going to end the year with a nice energy. i see you surrounded by lots of family, friends and people you hold dear
if last year did not feel chrismassy, dont worry, because this year will
an extra message about children and new families. pregancy within you or another may occur
releasing all anxieties caused by this year, and a lot of reflexion
overall a pretty good year, some guidance i might give would be to not push yourself over the edge, and try not to drink too much caffiene <3
pile 2
biggest theme: self love
i get the feeling you've lost someone very important this year, most likely a break up, but you still have feelings for them
disillusionment and prioritizing yourself are big themes for this year
you're going to recognize that this person was pretty toxic and will take them off of their pedestal
learning how to fall in love again, with yourself and with life
reconnecting with your femininity
a lot of themes about toxicity and distancing yourself from people that don't have your best interests at heart
crown chakra healing by taking one day at a time (a LOT of light purple imagery in this reading)
very tumultuous first few months of the year, you'll feel like your life is flipping upside down and rightside up for a while
reconnecting with your spiritual guides and your spirituality/religion will bring you peace
if you're not religious, exploring some concepts may occupy your time
potential new romantic interest, but you must fall in love with yourself first
advice i can give would be to start something new, and to spend a lot of time by yourself. take yourself on dates and spend time with loved ones
sleep is very important this year, maybe consider starting a dream journal
i feel like most of you will get into some kind of artsy hobby this year. this can be anything from visual to musical to physical, but i can see it becoming a big passion
learning how to be more flexible in your thoughts and actions is a big lesson
springtime (particularly may) will be an amazing period
indie movie life in the spring, it'll feel like your life is straight out of a book
productivity, creativity, and happiness will be at an all-time high
you'll meet so many new people during this time, and im seeing some travelling too
child-like energy, almost like a giddy joy
make sure to not forget your responsabilities, i can see that you might be too caught up in your excitement and forget to balance work and play
overall very good year. it might not feel like it right now, but things are guarenteed to get better <3
some guidance i would give would be to reflect on your past, but never to dwell in it
pile 3
biggest theme: new beginnings and hope
amazing potential, i can see you're carrying something precious from 2024, and wanting it to grow in the new year
it will, but be sure to wait for the right time and approach it with dedication, consistency and care
strong foundations are laid, but be sure to not be reckless
good communication and problem resolving skills are going to be very important this year
flexibility and detachment are going to be vital too, dont try to control situations and dictate outcomes
forgive others for their mistakes but be sure to be assertive too
for those in a romantic relationship: this relationship will last a long time <3
messages about changing your identity, there will be a time when you dont recognize yourself, take some time to reconnect with your inner values
"lucky girl syndrome" mindset. you'll be attracting so many blessings this year
abundance really is yours this year, the cards are showing so many blessings coming your way
affirm to yourself that you have everything you desire, and it will appear
summertime will be an extremely happy period for you. i see a lot of happy memories being made, and a lot of productivity as well
the end of summer and fall might be when things slow down a little, i see a little more uncertainty and anxiety, but it will all pass
big emphasis on relationships this year, but mostly romantic
for those currently in a relationship, here is confirmation that your person is a soulmate and will be in your life long-term
for the singles out there, you'll soon meet an amazing person (timeframe: june or july)
in terms of academics and career, your year will be pretty tame
there will be important decisions to make, and that might stress you out, but the outcome will be good
bottom line: the ending of this year will be good, and there's nothing you can do to change that
important lessons you will need to learn will be to think things through before acting upon them, hanging with people you feel truly appreciate you, and walking away when you feel they don't
appearances may be deceiving, make sure the people you surround yourself with have your best interests at heart
do not compare yourself with others, this year will hammer in that lesson time and time again
overall a very good year, some guidance i would give would be to guard your heart from people with negative intentions. there are snakes and backstabbers everywhere, keep yourself safe <3
pile 4
biggest theme: self-improvement
this year you'll return to your roots, fully shedding your old life to try and reconnect with your innermost values
reassess what works for you and what doesn't, i sense a lot of toxcitity in your life
this year you'll develop many new relationships with many new people
these relationships will provide interpersonal insight: remember that you are who you surround yourself with
this year, you'll practice setting boundaries
its never aggressive to be assertive, and those who matter won't mind
despite the heavy focus on new relationships, prioritize yourself
going on walks, meditating, journalling and going on solo dates are all amazing ways to start to feel comfortable alone
this year will be full of endings, dont resist it, embrace it
change isn't inherently bad, just like how difference isn't inherently bad
very financially stable year, you'll be more open to taking career risks
if there were any financial struggles in the past year, take comfort in knowing there will be little to nothing of the sort in the future
be careful to not be boastful about your finances though, as its better to succeed in silence
you create your own happiness, you are the main character, stop relying on others to save you
this year, you'll stop seeking others validation and look inside of yourself to find what you've been searching for in others
you'll be stepping into a bad bitch energy this year, one that feels comfortable being alone or with others
strong leadership is something you'll be developping this year, as well as strong manifestation skills
you want it, you're going to get it!!
go after all of your goals this year, hesitance will do you no good
i can see that at the end of the year, you'll emerge a totally different person
you'll be more confident, self-assured and more joyful (i sense that autumn is an important time period)
overall, this year will be a fresh chapter in your life
you'll shed the old you, bad habits, and negative aspects to make way for a life and personality that's authentically you
some advice i would give would be to not be afraid to stand apart, dont worry about the opinions of others
speak of success, and it will come to you <3
#pac#pick a pile#tarot#pick a card#tarot reading#intuition#intuitive messages#pac tarot#intuitive#intuitive readings#free tarot reading#manifestation#have an amazing 2025 <3
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summary — love language headcanons for the arcane characters (giving and receiving)
characters included — jinx, ekko, silco, vander, viktor
cerisa speaks — literally started writing this the night of s2 act 3 release and only now finishing it if that doesn't tell you something about how inconsistent i am idk what does. ATTENTION PEOPLE IN MY REQUESTS!! i swear to god i will do your request in the next year for sure! viktor forgive me, amen.
jinx — gift giving. jinx's most loyal companion is her imagination so it isn't hard for her to think of gifts that are personal to you that'd you'd enjoy.
we see many of the little homemade trinkets that she's made for silco throughout the years, my favourite being the ashtray he keeps on the desk in his office. so dependant on what you're into, she'll showcase her love for you in the form of a trinket.
oh, so you like to read? she sees you dog-earing a page of your book whilst you two are in her hangout and drops her current project to fashion you a bookmark. you only notice that her tinkering has stopped when the bookmark has been dropped on your lap and she's made a blasé comment about you destroying your book for too long so she just had to make you this so you'd stop.
hiding behind a mask of indifference when giving out her gifts is kind of her thing, but she's anxious to no end to see if you like it. her mind runs a mile a minute; 'don't they like it? do the colours not match? they hate it they hate it theyhateittheyhateittheyhateme-'
until you're holding it carefully between your fingers and your mouth is making that 'o' shape it does when something unexpected has happened. when you say that it's the most thoughtful gift you've ever received she's insistent on making you a hundred more.
physical touch. stop booing me i'm right! let me explain. as we see before powder becomes jinx, she's quite normal with physical contact, we see vi hugging her, putting a hand on her shoulder, claggor helping her down to the apartment, etc.
it's after vi slaps and abandons her that she becomes uncomfortable with physical touch. silco (most of the time) lets her initiate it on her own terms.
one time he doesn't is where she's playing airplane with his shimmer device and he grabs her wrist. she lets him retain his grip for a moment but when she does move her arm away he doesn't follow her. through my own delusions i've come to the conclusion that jinx wants, maybe even craves physical comfort, but quickly feels smothered by it when it's forced on her.
despite this, with the right person i feel like she would be willing to accept physical affection from them. it would take time to establish and develop a trusting relationship with jinx but when you're there, you're there. she's also a deeply insecure person when it comes to relationships of any kind and retaining them so you'll have to slip in some words of affirmation between touches.
her favourite way to receive physical touch would for sure be you playing with her hair. running your fingers through it and scratching her scalp? congratulations, that's your new job. you mention off the cuff how you'd love to see her hair down? suddenly there's a brush in your hands and an expectant and giddy jinx sitting in front of you.
even though she trusts you, she'll still get startled and tense up if you suffocate her with too much affection. holding your arms out for a hug or patting the seat next to you so she can lean into your arms is a much better way to initiate contact with her.
a little extra headcanon, when she's doing your nails she'll use her own hands to hold your fingers still instead of a wrist rest. she says it keeps them steadier so she doesn't make any mistakes but really she craves that subtle contact.
ekko — acts of service. season two episode seven dictates this as canon i'll be taking no arguments on this day. seeing his huge mural of future vi to show powder after he upsets her really just cements this headcanon. this is a pretty big action so i'll focus on the smaller ones for now.
starting off really strong with him decorating your room for you. close your eyes and imagine him building you a shelf to store your books or keepsakes. not only building it but carving designs into it. ohh you like music? well take a look at those carvings of sheet music! and do you spy some new books in your collection (stolen from a piltover library, naturally)
with so many different types of people living at the tree, at the beginning he was pretty much forced to learn how to cook all different types of meals. it paid off though because no matter where you hail from, he'll be able to prepare you any of your favourite dishes.
the more i type about ekko the more i realise he is the best househusband out of the arcane gang. he can cook, he can clean, he's a provider - he is quite literally the entire package. him being a certified pretty boy also helps because everyone needs a little eye candy in their life.
this one is sickeningly sweet but for relationship milestones, and even just randomly, ekko will fully plan out a date night for the two of you. picnics on the top of buildings that overlook the neon lights of the undercity, just the two of you. it's so intimate.
physical touch. now this i truly will be taking no arguments on. receiving physical affection for ekko is huge. we all saw how fast he hugged benzo in the alternate au!!
with so many people from his early life either dying (benzo, vander, claggor, mylo) or leaving (jinx and vi), ekko hasn't really had anyone to offer him any form of closeness. sure, he has the firelights. it just isn't the same though.
so when you come along with all the tender hugs and fond touches that he's been deprived of for so long he knows he's done for. consider him addicted. even just clapping a hand on his shoulder after a fight, hell, LEANING ON HIM?? that man is YOURS to command for now until the end.
knowing you're just physically there and not going anywhere - not abandoning him - he's content to bask in your presence.
quick kisses and brief glances at each other come in abundance. if you're not at the firelights base then you're on the go. it's these times that make you both appreciate the time you have with each other. ekko plans to take full advantage of the downtime you both have between missions. don't expect to stray a few feet from each other.
silco — acts of service. silco's acts of service are usually communicated through orders that he gives his goons. say you offhandedly mention that some shimmer addicts have set up camp in the alley next to your apartment. when you leave the last drop and go home you notice that those shimmer addicts you briefly complained about? gone. without a trace.
i feel like he prefers to give out acts of service to you as a kind of 'i can provide for you, don't leave' kind of thing. you don't need to ask silco to do something, he'll take the initiative. he wants you to view him as a reliable provider. this sounds very 50s but he's an old fashioned kind of guy so it checks out.
not the kind of guy to do chores at the start i'm afraid. he has people for that. maybe you can convince him to wash the dishes after you cook you, him and jinx a meal. but never and i mean NEVER will you catch this man hoovering or mopping the floor. that is just simply not going to fucking happen. you'd have better luck asking him to quit smoking.
not gonna lie he just lightens the load of whatever jobs you need to do so you can spend more time together. the famed eye of zaun is clingy.
physical touch. actually controversial take no way CHILLS! similarly to jinx, silco wouldn't actively look for physical touch in any given situation. he's obviously traumatised by his former best friend choking him out and drowning him underwater. not to mention completely brutalising his eye.
jinx is likely the only person he would willingly let touch him. not even sevika on a good day gets that privilege. you would need to spend a lot of time gaining silco's undying trust. only when you two are emotionally close will you be able to share his touch.
buying you jewellery just so he can feel the warmth of your body heat as he clasps the necklace around you neck. silco is very subtle and sneaky when he wants to be close to you.
his neck is off limits to everyone, even you. placing your hand on his collarbone whilst entangled in bed together is the furthest you'll get.
vander — physical touch. oh i just know this man gives the best bear hugs. physical intimacy with vander is just safety incarnate. when he takes you into his arms it really feels like a breath of topside air after a lifetime underground.
i don't think vander would really like being with a partner that didn't enjoy physical affection. it's not only a bonding experience for the both of you to engage in but also a display of trust that he deeply values.
conveying his love for you with intimacy, non-sexual and sexual is something he cherishes. the level of mutual understanding and relationship building that comes with it is indispensable to vander. basically the keys to a successful partnership with him.
that little symbol of love in the undercity where two people touch their foreheads together? that's the most significant way you can show that you truly care for someone and it's vander's favourite way to connect with you in moments of peace.
words of affirmation. vander is the type of guy to not necessarily need words of affirmation to feel good about himself but will appreciate it all the same. he tries so hard to be a good example to the kids and in general to the populace of the undercity. he wants this life to be better. he wants to be better.
he's the leader, the protector, all the pressure is on him. affirming his efforts through words goes further than you might think.
it's you and him against the world. the brewing political storm that plagues both the undercity and piltover is little more than a distant thought when you're whispering honeyed words to and fro in the dead of night. for a man with such an imposing presence, telling him that you love and need him makes him weak.
with your words of affirmation, he's more certain of his role in the undercity than he's ever been. you renew the passion he had in youth, he wants the best for you and will do whatever he can to obtain it.
viktor — quality time. viktor is all about sharing the same space as his partner. with him being the co-founder of hextech, it's difficult for him to find time alone to dote on you. which is why you''ll often find yourself in the company of viktor (and oftentimes jayce) in their lab, them working on a new use for hextech, and yourself either studying or simply watching the magic (literally) happen.
when jayce is off being the poster child of hextech or following councillor medarda around like a lost puppy, you and viktor will settle into comfortable silences. usually with the only noise being the tinkering of science equipment or the quick scribbles of pen on paper. there's no pressure to fill the room with unnecessary chattering. just you being with him is enough. your presence is akin to a relaxant to him.
sometimes most of the time you'll need to remind him to take breaks when you've been there for hours on end and he's showing no signs of stopping or slowing down. it's a practised routine at this point; he refuses, you leave it alone for five minutes, during this time he is sneaking glances at you when he thinks you aren't looking, waiting for you to ask again.
when you do, he feigns reluctance as you grab his hand to get you both some fresh air and a proper meal. he might actually be part cat now that i'm thinking about it. he just can't help but love spending time with you.
words of affirmation. actions speak louder than words? pft, yeah right. communication is deeply valued by viktor. he's exceptional at deducing someone's intentions behind their words so don't even bother trying to get something by him. it won't work. you try to plan surprise birthday party for him? he's one of the first people to find out about it.
so when you earnestly tell him how special he is to you or how appreciative you are of him, he knows it's 100% what you actually think and BOY does that fluster him more than anything.
he isn't very big on compliments, not that he doesn't value the ones you so willingly give him, but he finds it hard to accept the good and beauty you see in him. there will always be a part of viktor, machine herald or mortal man, that refuses to believe he could be good enough for this type of love. when he retracts inside his mind and lets his doubt drown him, it's you who can pull him out of the water and onto land. telling him that you love him just the way he is will silence his uncertainty.
oh you know what would just about finish him off? making him a lunch box and putting a note in there. it doesn't having to be something poetic, even a simple 'i love you ♡' will be at the forefront of his mind until he gets back home to you.
honestly, if you're someone who expresses their love through words of gratitude or proclamations of admiration then a relationship with viktor will be smooth sailing.
#✐ᝰ cerisa’s writing#arcane#arcane s2#arcane x reader#jinx x reader#ekko x reader#silco x reader#vander x reader#viktor x reader
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Getting giddy over here for some slasher content.
So I had an idea of a gn or male reader who had really strong or sharp teeth? Like for example if a bottle cap isnt coming off theyll just unscrew it with their teeth or even pop it off! Like headcannons
Open for any slasher content your pick because i’m in for it regardless‼️ (Stu definitely. I think he a cutie.) (ALSO sfw or nsfw stuff i’ll take it.) LOVE YOUR WRITTINGS!
SLASHERS WITH AN S/O THAT HAS SHARP TEETH
WARNINGS: SFW and NSFW content below the cut so read at your own risk
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BO
Bo didn’t initially notice your teeth. But boy when he does they are his new favorite thing about you. He’s all over you. Making out constantly and adding in tongue so he can feel up your teeth a little less blatantly than sticking his fingers in your mouth and feeling them up.
Wants to do everything and anything that involves your teeth. Nip him with your teeth, bite him till the point he bleeds, drag out his pleasure with your teeth. Nothing, absolutely nothing is off the table with him.
MICHAEL
When Michael first saw your teeth and how sharp they were he did his signature held tilt. Then after this he quite literally shoved his fingers in your mouth and felt all up on your teeth. To say that he’s now OBSESSED with them is an understatement.
Has always had a thing for teeth but you have amplified it by 1000 percent. He likes to shove his hand into your mouth and feel your teeth while jerking himself off.
OTIS
Otis has seen some crazy stuff so your teeth don’t bother him and he doesn’t really think about them. However time to time he does hyper fixates on them and will shove his hands into you mouth so he can touch them and admire them.
Please please bite every inch of his body to the point that he’s covered head to toe in his own blood. And straight up if you do this he will ask you to marry him right on the spot.
PATRICK
Patrick loves your teeth. He always has and always will but he specially loves when you grin. It’s like a wolf who’s cornered its prey or like a cat with a canary in its mouth. And let me tell when he sees you grin it causes his heart skip a beat and gets him all hot and flushed.
He likes when you tease him with your teeth. Drag you teeth down his body. Bite him.
THOMAS
Thomas noticed your teeth when you first smiled at him. Your smile looked off to him and he was confused at first why at first. Sensing his confusion you quickly realized why and told him your teeth were sharp. He was like ok and went on with his day but he was curious about them.
Thomas WANTS to desperately know how your teeth would feel grazing his cock as you go down on him. But he’s too shy to ask you to blow him.
VINCENT
Vincent is utterly fascinated by your teeth. He wants to know when they got so sharp and how they got so scarp. This fascination blends into him drawing your so expect for your jaw to be sore from having it open so he can draw each and every one.
Vincent loves when you bite him to the point he bleeds because then he knows that he’s yours but also he loves the way your bite marks look on his skin.
#slashers#bo sinclair#michael myers#otis driftwood#patrick bateman#thomas hewitt#vincent sinclair#bo sinclair x male reader#bo sinclair x reader#michael myers x male reader#michael myers x reader#otis driftwood x male reader#otis driftwood x reader#patrick bateman x male reader#patrick bateman x reader#thomas hewitt x male reader#thomas hewitt x reader#vincent sinclair x male reader#vincent sinclair x reader#slashers x male reader#slashers x reader
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Tell me I’m the only, only, only, only one - part three
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Pairing: Eris x reader x Azriel | WC: 3.3k | warnings: general angst, some violence
Summary: after a week of avoiding talking to him, Azriel invites you out for a meeting that only leaves you with a more urgent sense of jealousy
Author’s note: happy new year’s eve!! I know it hasn’t been too long since the last part, but I wanted to spread some holiday joy! This year has been awful but my time online and the friends I’ve met through here have been so lovely and kind and you guys have gotten me through a lot do here’s some pain!
Last part | Next part | Masterlist
Your conversation with Nesta left you reeling, some deep part of you rattled at her words. A deep loneliness settled in you after she left, a swirling storm of anger and jealousy threatening to fester into a hurricane out on the balcony.
‘He’s a challenge on his best days.’
Why had the Mother given her most loyal follower a mate who was so difficult? Weren’t mates supposed to be a blessing?
Rhys and Feyre, Nesta and Cassian - they all had their own fair share of turbulence. You remembered the stories from Mor about Feyre throwing her shoes at Rhysand, or Nesta’s seemingly complete apathy around Cassian.
The journals left you confused, both smitten and giddy and a deep questioning of should it be this hard? Azriel and Eris had already seen the worst of each other and still chose and defended their bond. Would the same be said of you if Azriel saw your faults? Or would one flawed mate be enough for him?
Would another fae be able to look past your status as a second choice? Would you be able to even look at other fae if Azriel rejected you?
It had only been a few weeks since the bond had snapped for you, but in that time you didn’t notice other fae. They were just background characters, no one in particular ever catching your notice.
Except Eris. That was nothing though - merely Azriel’s feelings about him swirling within you.
None of it made any sense, your body subconsciously leaving the balcony and moving to find Azriel, repeating to yourself that an answer laid in one of his journals. You stopped by your room to gather the journal before following the bond to find the shadowsinger alone in the library. He looked incredible - his large wings stretched out over the black leather, the definition of his body evident through his loose fitting clothes. He was hunched over a small table, flipping through a book and jotting things down on the paper next to him. All your time spent reading this past week made his handwriting a familiar sight.
“Hi Az.” You stopped before him, presenting him with your most recently finished journal. This one had contained much the same - fighting between Eris and Azriel, occasional snippets about Cassian and his drunken antics. It seemed Eris and Azriel were in a constant cycle of never getting too close, one or the other always finding some fault to keep their distance.
He accepted it wordlessly, the replacement journal ready in his lap. How you hadn’t noticed it says more about the focus of your attention than you would like.
“Expecting me?”
“You usually find me around this time.” He huffed, the slight smile on his face enough to know he’s being light hearted. You took the new journal, about to turn on your heel when you spotted the empty chair next to Azriel. You waited a moment, turning back to find him still looking at you. Your chest felt tight with vulnerability, looking back to the empty chair, something inside of you begging to sit in his presence.
It felt like a good sign finding him in the open. You usually found him in his room, his door closed in front of you once the exchange was made. But now he sat on display, his own work spread out before him. You weren’t certain you had ever seen him work so openly.
You took the sign as an invitation, sitting in a chair opposite him, the spine a harsh crack in the silent room. He did nothing more than watch, hazel eyes tracking the delicacy and respect you showed to the journal before looking back to his own notes.
It was silent save for the turning of pages and his scrawling. It felt so warm being in his presence, sharing this time with him. It was so easy to get lost in it that the next time you looked up you realized he had pulled out a fresh journal, scribbling away in it. It was a cleaner version of the one you spent every night hunched over, staying up until the last word was comprehensible to your sleep-addled brain.
“Have you ever done that in front of someone before?” You croaked the words out, throat dry from your lack of water in hours, too afraid if you got up, your return would show an empty room.
“No, I haven’t.” His scrawl hadn’t stopped, and you straightened up, trying to catch a glance of what he was writing, if your name made an appearance. Shadows swirled at the top of his journal, obscuring your vision. You looked at the shadow, a cross expression trying to threaten them. They only seemed to dance more rapidly, in agitation or preening beneath your gaze, you weren’t sure.
“None of that.”
You sank back deflated, surprised you were caught. Picking up the journal once more, you flicked to the page you had left off at, settling back in.
“You’ll see this one soon enough.” The book snapped shut at his words as you readjusted to sit back up.
“I will?” Azriel only nodded, finally looking up at you instead of the pages of his journal. His eyes darted around the room before a shadow curled around his ear. Whatever the shadow told him, he relaxed a little, his posture easing into his seated position.
“I gave them to you to understand Eris and I’s relationship. But I think it’s impossible to figure out this situation without getting completely up to date.”
You nearly salivated at the thought of Azriel’s present journals. To know what he’s thought about you this whole time, in his own words, even without knowing about the bond? Priceless.
He had said he had been interested in you, drawn to you.
Azriel smiled, a soft pulsing of the thread around your heart. Tonight had been a step forward - you didn’t want to push your luck and find out if he was pulling the cord tight in reassurance or suffocation. You kept the question to yourself, nestling into the chair and the comfort of Azriel’s scent.
-
Mindless chatter moved across the breakfast table, your eyes constantly flickering to Azriel. It was impossible to keep them off of him, his emotions roiling in your chest kept you up half the night once you had retired from the library. You had been avoiding him for a week now, and the hours spent in his company reminded you of just how nice it was to linger in his presence.
This past week had been an anomaly, one you weren’t certain your friends had noticed or not. Azriel was usually a source of company at some point during your day - a meal, transportation, or just someone to go out walking Velaris with you.
If this past week showed you anything, it was how ingrained into your daily life Azriel had become.
You looked at him again, your eyes lingering on the lack of sleep beneath his eyes. He was tired. You couldn’t pinpoint it exactly- it wasn’t in his face or in his movements. Was it the bond? Was it your late night insomnia that kept him up?
Could mating bonds do that?
“Azriel, what time are you leaving?” Rhys’s question brought you from your focused gaze, waiting to hear Azriel’s response. So focused on Azriel, you hadn’t bothered pretending to even eat or notice Cassian’s glances to his own mate.
“I’m leaving in the afternoon.” Azriel’s head turned to you, his hazel eyes capturing yours in a gaze you couldn’t look away from. Where was he going? You had been so wrapped up in your thoughts you had missed the beginning of the discussion.
“I think it would be better if you came with me.” The table had turned quiet, the clattering of cutlery pausing for just a moment, all eyes slowly directed your way, waiting for your response.
So they’ve noticed this weirdness between you two.
“Are you sure, Az?” Azriel didn’t look away from you at Rhysand’s question, merely waiting for your response. Something in you was drawn to his gaze, wanting to linger in it for the rest of your days. His eyes held such softness, a look he reserved just for you.
And his other mate. The bitter thought made you grimace. Azriel and Eris had something real, something tangible that they fought for every single day.
But surely the moments in the library were also real. Not as intense or passionate, but full of a warmth you had hardly experienced before, a domesticity many would dream about.
“Yes, I will. Where are we going?”
Azriel was quick to answer, one of his shadows nearly muffling Rhysand’s voice so Azriel could be the one to respond.
“I have a meeting with Eris.” You were too focused on Azriel’s face to notice Nesta’s eyes widen imperceptibly on the other side of the table.
-
Your fingers tapped against your thigh, an anxiety coursing through you at the thought of seeing Eris again. He was something - a sharp face, even sharper tongue, decadently dressed. You hated to admit it, but you could understand why the Mother had mated him to Azriel - the two were quite possibly the most gorgeous fae in all of Prythian.
You had stayed up late again pouring over Azriel’s journals. Each notebook left you more and more territorial over him, romance pouring through every page. It was so different from the books Nesta read - the fictitious couple having grandiose gestures, no depiction of how the day to day worked.
But Azriel’s notebook was filled with longing for Eris. Recaps of long conversations they have had, almost word for word detailings of what they spoke about.
They had been together for a little over a century by now. They both fought it - Azriel all but withdrew from his family, avoiding them for over a year while he figured it out.
It took nearly a decade for them to come to terms with it - one of them never quite ready to dive in, both playing the hesitant role at different points.
It seemed one day Eris just snapped. Tired of talking in circles and exhausting every avenue, he went for it. He kissed Azriel and it spiraled from there, consummating the bond. It was a romantic tale of longing and distance and overcoming any and all odds for each other.
A story you had no business playing a part in.
Azriel pulled you from your thoughts, reaching out a hand to winnow the pair of you away. You took it, remembering all too well the last time you were gathered in his arms.
You both rematerialized in a densely packed forest, the trees so close together it was difficult to move between. You steadied yourself against Azriel, hands pressed to his broad chest. Winnowing yourself anywhere wasn’t an issue, but someone else winnowing you left you unmoored, your feet unable to find solid ground for a few seconds. The bond tightened around your heart, the beat of it speeding up at the contact.
“Come to gloat?” Your head whipped towards Eris as you yanked your hands from Azriel’s chest. You didn’t notice Azriel bringing his hands back up, reaching for you, trying to keep you close.
But Eris did. He schooled his features, looking toward Azriel with hardened eyes.
“No, I brought her so we can figure this out.”
Eris scoffed, the sound loud enough to be heard over the bird song high above the group. He stomped forward in a direct path towards Azriel, a trail of smoke in his wake.
His long red hair flowed behind him as he moved, reflecting the light of the sun so beautifully the homes of the Autumn Court could be full of portraits of the male before you and his beauty would still surprise. Your heart hammered in your chest, unable to look away from him.
“I’m sure that’s exactly what you’ve been up to this past week. Trying to figure this out with her, shutting off your bond to me.” The last words came out as a whisper, the underlying accusation one Eris couldn’t bear to say. He looked almost hurt as he said it.
“Er-“ Eris cut Azriel off, pushing his back into a tree, his hands curling into the leathers. Your feet followed the action, a hot sense of protectiveness overcoming you.
“No, Azriel. You don’t get to play house with her and show up here with her.”
“She can hear you, ya know.” You pushed Eris off of Azriel, the male staggering back in shock at your actions.
“How sweet. What a waste of my time to be here if you’re going to tell me you’ve finally picked someone else when you’ve had a century to do so.”
Azriel reached out for Eris, his grip tight around Eris’s forearm. Eris tried to push Azriel away from him, but his hand remained around Eris. He pulled the redhead closer, his thumb slowly stroking over his mate’s skin. It felt so intimate you wanted to look away.
“Eris, I am not picking her. I am trying to figure this out.” Azriel’s words stung, no matter how pragmatic they were. A teeny, tiny part of you wanted to blurt out to Eris about the journals, certain it would send the Autumn male out of your life for good. The action stayed in your mind at the betrayal Azriel would feel.
Some part of you knew something so hurtful would end in Azriel having no mates.
“‘Figure this out’? What is there to figure out? Which one of us you would pick?”
“No!” Azriel’s rebuttal was frantic, his lack of sleep more prominent now in the sunlight. It didn’t stop the sun from highlighting how gorgeous his brown skin was, though. “Can’t you think past your own self for five minutes and realize my soul, my entire being is connected to the both of you?”
The words did something to Eris, causing him to finally look at you. You couldn’t help the heat rushing to your cheeks beneath his gaze, a small part of you hoping he finds something interesting. You straightened, taking the time to look over him as well. It was nearly unfair how good he looked in his riding clothes. His shirt opened just enough to see his collarbone and the top of his sternum, his pale chest decorated with freckles. His loose, billowy shirt tucked into some well fitting trousers, thighs nearly ripping the fabric.
He wasn’t as big as Azriel - a bit shorter and not nearly as broad, but he was lean and strong, and you were certain they both threw each other around the bedroom with ease.
“I suppose severing this bond would mean lifelong consequences for you.” Eris spoke to Azriel, but kept his gaze on you as he walked toward you. Heat crept up your body the closer he got, each step raising the temperature by ten degrees. It was nearly unbearable by the time he stood in front of you, so close you had to look up at him.
Eris’s anger made him more beautiful - the sharpness of his face poised and ready for attack, the red shades of anger perfectly matching his skin and hair.
Heat coursed around your neck, the flames dancing across your skin. You were enraptured with Eris, this moment only for the two of you. You could hear Azriel start to object, but paid him no notice, your full attention on Eris.
“I could end it all now, remove the most painful thorn in my side you’ve been.”
You smiled up at him, overcome with a new feeling of competition. The flames around your neck tightened, but you kept on, stepping infinitesimally closer to Eris.
“If my mere existence is a pain to you now, just wait until I’ve decided you’re worth the effort to bother. You’ve only known me for a week and already I’m worth your ire.”
“Go home to Velaris. Go be a small town healer and find a small town male for you to fake your orgasms with.”
Your jaw dropped and you felt Azriel’s hands wrap around your upper arms, trying to pull you back, but you rooted yourself to the ground, pulling from his grasp.
“At least my constituents will look me in the eye out of respect and not fear. At least my patients know I had to work for my job and that I wasn’t given it because of my father!”
The flames were choking now, your breaths coming in hard and shallow. You were trying to fight it, to win whatever this was, but breathing harder and harder, fresh air a luxury you couldn’t remember.
“Eris!” Azriel all but growled as he wrapped his arms around your torso, pulling you into him. You reached up, trying to pull the collar off, tried to get any air, but it was impossible.
“The Mother is absurd for mating Azriel with someone so foolish who speaks of things she knows nothing about.” Eris relinquished his power as you sagged into Azriel’s arms, but Eris cupped a hand around your jaw. His eyes burned with fury and something you couldn’t quite make out, the amber color replaced with the blown pupils of his ire.
“Az, come back to me when you’ve decided the bitch isn’t worth your time.”
Chest heaving, you squared your jaw, a rebuttal on your tongue, but Eris had turned, walking into the trees before disappearing completely into them.
He was everything Nesta had warned you he was. He was cruel, difficult, and maddening.
And if the Mother wanted Azriel to pick one of you, you would do whatever it took to beat out Eris Vanserra for Azriel’s affections.
You’re stuck so deep in your head, you don’t even notice Azriel winnow the two of you back to the House of Wind, the two of you landing in the dining room. You turned to ask him about Eris, to talk to him about how ridiculous his mate was, but Azriel had dropped your arm, winnowing away immediately after. Your hand instinctively reached out for the shadows, but it was too late.
He was gone and he left you here.
You sighed, not knowing what you expected him to do. Coddle you? Tell you Eris didn’t mean his threats? Tell you Eris is a big meanie head?
You shook the thought away, your steps soft as you made your way through the house, a journal calling your name to pour through.
Your adrenaline was wearing off, the grime of the forest stuck to your clothes making the bathtub’s siren song call to you from many rooms away.
“How was your meeting with Eris?” Nesta’s voice found you as you were about to climb the stairs, one foot raised. You spun on your heel to look at her, her face indecipherable. Just his name filled you with anger and confusion once more. How was it him that had received Azriel’s affections?
“He’s worse than you made him seem. Vile and cruel, just like everyone says.” You spat the words at her, not receiving the reaction you wanted from her. Nesta only raised her eyebrows as her nose twitched.
“Are you sure?” Your anger had flared too much to notice her strange tone or the look in her eye.
“I’m positively certain. Anyone having to spend time with that awful, awful male is a saint or somehow even worse than he is.”
She approached you, her eyes lingering on your neck. You weren’t certain if you had scorch marks or not, unsure if Eris’s wickedness scarred. She was quiet as she looked at you, eyes of silver intense as they locked onto yours. You weren’t sure if she found what she was looking for or not before she brushed past you to go to her own chambers, her words quiet in the stillness of the house.
“If you say so.”
Divider by @tsunami-of-tears
Only, only one taglist: @paleidiot @becstersworld @seasonallyapril @buttermilktea11 @wolfbc97 @carmenadkins78 @shadowsingercassia @abysshaven @myromanempiree @snatched-bubblegum-bitch @chaos-on-stand-bi @moonlwghts @witchymomfrien @awkwardnerd @ssmay123 @scarsandallaz @meritxellao @saltedcoffeescotch @2ooopenbook @wintersquirrel @manicmanuscription @wavegirl @thisishwrworld @tempermentalbookworm @romantasyreader28 @marina468 @i-know-i-can @rcarbo1 @lifesdisasters @tele86 @ireneisbored @yazzzmints @azysmate @bsenpai @curiosandcourioser @elisha-chloe @yasmin-oviedo @that-one-little-soybean @azrielslittledove @stormieandateacup @anon1227 @phoenix666stuff @asahinasstuff @acourtofbatboydreams
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#acotar fanfiction#azriel x reader#azriel#azriel fanfic#azriel x you#acotar writing#azriel x y/n#eris vanserra x reader#eris vanserra fanfic#eris x azriel x reader#eris x you#azriel x eris x reader#only only one
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↳ Index [Day 11 - Mommy Kink]
Pairing: Good Boy!Taehyung x Mommy Dom!Reader
Genre: married life!AU, new parents!AU, CEO!Taehyung
Kinks: sex on the living room sofa, praise kink, nursing handjob, her breasts still produce milk, breast & nipple massage, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering with three fingers, squirting, he eats it uppp, he spits on her pussy to lube her, multiple orgasms for both, sensitive pussy, deep creampie, talks about getting pregnant again, she kneels on the couch so he can fuck her doggy, he is frozen in pleasure and gets used as her pretty dildo <3, suit kink, she holds his tie, gentle hair holding, drooling, he bites her shoulder because of too much pleasure, subby boy tears, he is deep in subspace, giggly aftercare
Wordcount: 5.6k
a/n: rope inspo. i wanna start my notes by telling you guys do not expect regular pregnancy content on the blog at all. this is solely for kinktober cause we can be unhinged together. idk what happened but the thought of him helping her get rid of the swelling of her tits did something in me 😶 it was sexy for this story and in this context, but it’s not gonna be something regular on here. okay? okay. now that this is out of the way, here you go anon you finally have your ihyily!tae mommy kink story and it’s very sexy omfg it's so sexy holy fuck idk how to go on from now on 😩 have fun reading, i genuinely was so into it as i wrote it fajdsjf it's so hot holy fuck
Taehyung has been coming home late again. Since the birth of your daughter, he has reduced his hours at work to spend quality time with the family he always dreamed of. Until last week. A huge project has been keeping him in his office until the evening and it has been weighing him down. Not only because it is very stressful to work ten, sometimes more, hours per day but also because it means that he has to stay away from his family. Taehyung hates it. He hates it so, so much, but can’t do anything about it.
The only thing he can do is be grumpy about it and oh how grumpy he is tonight. He takes off his shoes and coat with a big pout and puts his office bag on the dresser groggily.
He doesn’t call out for you because it is already late and he doesn’t want to risk waking you.
You are staying at home entirely for now, enjoying your time with the baby as much as possible. It is difficult and exhausting work, draining you so much that you always end up already fast asleep when Taehyung comes home. Which is another reason why Taehyung hates working late. He doesn’t get to see you all fucking day, can’t eat dinner with you, play with his daughter, let alone talk to you. When he leaves for work, you are still sleeping and when he comes home you are already sleeping. Taehyung hates working long hours and he hates this stupid project and the loneliness he feels.��
He goes straight upstairs, wanting to check in on you before he eats a sad, lonely dinner all alone and sad and alone and sad on the couch. He hates working long hours.
Taehyung opens the bedroom door carefully, using the light of the hallway to check on your sleeping figure. Except that the bed is empty.
“Darling?”
The room stays silent. He closes the door and scratches his head in confusion. Where did you go? Taehyung thinks of any possible location in the house, remembering the nursery last. Bear with him, he is very groggy from work.
He makes his way to the nursery, eyes flitting to the faint lights instantly. He was correct. He increases his steps, heart fluttering unbearably. He hasn’t talked to you in days and now he finally gets the chance. Taehyung feels like a giddy boy who knows he can talk to his crush soon.
He feels actually lost for air and words when he lays eyes on you.
You are wearing a mint green satin slip with a matching floor-length rope. Delicate lace frames the edges of the garments and little diamonds in the lace glimmer in the dim lights. You aren’t wearing any makeup and your hair is unstyled. Taehyung has never felt so in love with you before, gazing at you as you whisper-sing to your baby daughter.
She is already sleeping soundly in her crib. You must have come in here to check up on her.
Taehyung loves you so much. He will take any amount of stress if it means that he can come home to you looking like this. Like the mother of his daughter and the love of his life.
“Darling, I’m home”, he speaks softly.
You lift your head, features instantly lighting up.
“I haven’t heard your voice in days. Tae darling, welcome home”, you say, closing the distance in hasty steps.
Taehyung meets you in the middle with stretched out arms, grasping your soft waist in sync with you grasping his shoulders. You kiss. You kiss like two lovers finally reunited after being separated. You kiss as if you had worried to never see each other again. The kiss ends with Taehyung squeezing your butt softly and you twirling his tie.
“I missed you”, you confess.
“I missed you too. You’re beautiful, darling.”
“You think so? I already had to change because our princess threw up on me.”
“Oh god, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
“Mhm, it was nasty at first, but I’m okay.” You scratch your fingers over his undercut at the nape of his neck. “I’m more than okay now that you’re home”, you say, smiling at him goofily.
Taehyung’s heart flutters. He can’t help but giggle and poke your cheek with his nose.
“Stop flirting with me.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m shy.”
“That’s why I’m doing it. It’s fun and mommy’s gotta get her entertainment in.”
You are jokingly referring to yourself as mommy, but Taehyung feels tingly because of it nonetheless. His heart skips multiple beats and his knees are wobbly for just a second. Holy moly.
You sigh in contentment, oblivious to his state.
“We should be talking outside. We don’t wanna wake her.”
“Right. Did mommy put her to sleep already?” he asks to play into the joke, but also to taste the sweetness of the words on his tongue.
You snicker, leading him out of the nursery with your arm around his waist.
“Yeah, mommy did”, you say, closing the door tightly.
“You’re the best mommy”, Taehyung says, almost moaning the words. He gulps, looking to the side in panic when you don’t notice. He opens his tie a little, taking a deep breath. What is happening to him? Has he really been away from you for long enough that the mere playfulness is enough to turn him on? Is it the arm around him? The hand on his waist? The fingers which played with his tie? Is it your outfit or your natural beauty? Or is it this fucking word? Innocent but tonight it tastes sinful on his tongue. Taehyung doesn’t understand what is happening to him, but he can’t stop it. He craves to be close to you.
“But enough about me. How was your day, darling?” you ask him, oblivious to his racing thoughts.
“Me? I”, he clears his throat. “Good, I mean, I don’t know. Kinda shit.”
You and he have reached the living room, sitting down on the couch together. You pull your legs up, turning to him so you are facing him. Taehyung glances for a second, having to swallow harshly. You aren’t wearing any panties. You are accidentally exposing yourself to him in this position. You move your arm, flinging the rope over your crotch mindlessly. The view disappears, but Taehyung is left with a scrambled mind.
You scoot closer and weave your fingers through his styled hair. Taehyung shivers, eyes closing halfway as he gazes at you.
“I’m sorry to hear that you had a shitty day, darling. Do you wanna talk about it?” you ask in a soft and caring voice, eyes focused solely on him.
Taehyung swears he might whimper any second now.
“I just have so much to do. I guess, it’s been weighing me down”, he says.
“Of course it has. You’ve been working long hours lately. I was already worried for you.”
“It sucks”, he confesses honestly and pouts, “I only see you two when you’re sleeping, I don’t get to eat dinner with you or talk to you. I’ve been so lonely lately.”
“No, I’m sorry you feel this way. Gosh come here you”, you say and get on your knees to hug him. Your soft, swollen breasts squeeze against his chest. Taehyung takes in nothing else for just a second before his situation sinks in and he melts into your embrace. He buries his face in your neck, eyes closing and arms wrapping around you. You smell so good. He wanted to hold you like this for days. Just with this one hug you heal him of any kind of loneliness he felt and rid him of any pain he ever felt.
“I’m here now, darling and I’m proud of you. You’ve been working so hard, I just wanna tell you that I’m proud of you.”
Taehyung tears up a little, squeezing you against him.
“Thank you”, he whimpers. Not many people told him that they were proud of him in the past, but you always do. He always soaks up the praise like a greedy sponge. It feels so good to know that you are proud of him.
“Are you crying?” you gasp.
“No, just finally feeling good. I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too”, you say and snicker which lets Taehyung know that you are going to crack a joke next. “Mommy missed you, darling.”
You giggle mischievously, but Taehyung can’t see any humour in it. He feels fucked, pounded, railed, totally ruined just from this one sentence. If you took him, ripped his clothes off and fucked him violently right here and now, it would basically be the same thing.
Taehyung twists the fabric of your rope and presses his lips against your soft neck.
“Mommy”, he whimpers.
You tense up, smile dropping in shock. You know this voice. This is his sub drop voice. Your entire body tingles in realisation, heart skipping way too many beats. Damn your post pregnancy body, you are leaking already.
You test the waters carefully by humming a sound of acknowledgement, holding your breath.
“Mommy, please take care of me.”
“What?” you breathe.
Taehyung mewls and kisses your neck sloppily, long fingers digging into the silky fabric of your rope. You sigh, body going up in flames instantly. So this is how his neck kisses feel like. It has been too long since you last felt them.
Taehyung isn’t the only one who has been going a little crazy ever since he is home. You are just a woman and he is the hottest man ever. His dark styled hair, his styled eyebrows, his pretty eyes and his slim, sculpted body in a tailored suit; all of it has been doing their effects on you. You haven’t seen him in days, except in pictures and your dreams, so seeing him tonight all ruffled and ruined from work is doing things to you. His kiss makes you greedy, his body in your fingers almost mad. Feeling his perfect hands roam your torso and his soft lips kiss your neck is doing the rest.
You are just a woman and he is a man, who knows exactly how to turn you on.
Taehyung lifts his lips from your neck, brushing them against the shell of your ear.
“I’m going insane. You are so soft, Mommy. So soft”, he whispers and whimpers, tugging on your rope needily.
You shed it off with a skilled touch, basking in his reaction. He moans, kissing your newly exposed shoulders while his hands grasp your upper back. They are so big and feel so warm.
He shudders, exhaling shakily.
“Mommy, oh god…”
“Are you okay, baby?”
“No, I’m feeling so submissive to you. I can’t think straight”, he gets out in a slightly pitched voice.
“Shit, you’re sexy. Should Mommy take care of you, mhm?”
Taehyung moans, legs squeezing together needily. His cock is twitching in his slacks, soaking the fabric a little. You are into this as well. You are playing into his fantasy.
“Please”, he begs, needing you like air.
“Mhm, okay. Lie down on my lap, yeah?”
“Yes, Mommy.”
You and he get into position. You sit on the sofa with your feet on the ground and he lies his head onto your lap. You caress his hair, smiling down at him.
“There we go. Are you comfy, my pretty boy?”
He nods his head, gazing up at you with a droopy head. He is so deep in subspace right now. So, so deep.
“I love to hear this. You’ve been working so hard, have been so stressed out. Let Mommy make it better again, okay?”
“Yes, Mommy”, he whimpers, falling even deeper.
“And you gotta help me out too. My tits are killing me tonight, they’re so heavy. Can you help me?”
“Yes please”, he begs, barely seeing you at this point because you are scrambling his brain to the point of a blurry vision.
You smile at him and reach up to tug down the straps of your gown. The silky fabric slips down instantly, exposing your plumped up tits to him.
Taehyung moans, fucking the air.
“Go on, they’re all yours.”
Taehyung gathers them in his shaking hands and goes down on them with an open mouth. He trembles, eyes filling with tears. Your nipples are so swollen, sitting heavily on his tongue. He didn’t even realise how much he missed your breasts in his mouth until now. He whimpers, falling oh so deep into subspace that he won’t be able to escape anytime soon.
You groan in relief, rolling your head back and parting your lips. Your tits were killing you. Even the mere fabric of your dress was painful against your nipples and your skin feels so stretched to its limits. Taehyung’s wet, warm mouth feels like pure heaven. He releases you of so much tension, so much pressure and so much pain that you could honestly cry.
Taehyung is on a high, running on nothing but your sweet taste. He can’t decide on which side to stay, switching between them over and over again as he gets absolutely lost in you with tears down his cheeks and his cock hurting in his grey slacks.
You take care of his big (quite literally) problem. With barely open eyes you watch your own hand as you open his belt and slacks with. Taehyung is too lost to notice. He also doesn’t notice when you push the flap of his briefs to the side. He does notice when you take his cock out however.
You pick up a pace instantly, fingers pumping him quickly.
He sits up slightly in shock, head tilted back and messy mouth agape in a surprised moan. His eyes are widened, staring up at you.
“That feels nice, doesn’t it?” you ask him, massaging his heated tip.
Taehyung keens, spilling tears. It feels amazing. Your hand is so warm and so soft. Your touch is placed with so much love. He missed you so much and it feels so good.
“Of course it does. Relax, yeah? Mommy is gonna relieve you of your pressure too, yeah?”
“Mommy”, he whimpers, dropping on your lap to bury himself back in your soft tits. He takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking hungrily. His cock throbs in your fingers, spilling excitement down his shaft.
You pick it up, using it to jerk him off from the base to his tip. You are spilling down his throat too, feeling on cloud nine from the relief.
“Good boy, that feels amazing”, you praise him. You pick up speed, moving your hand up and down his entire shaft. Now that you finally have him again, you are going to make sure to memorise every single inch of him. Just in case he goes missing again.
Taehyung whimpers, kicking the pillows. His mouth is so eager in how he sucks your nipples. You are getting so much pleasure from it that it is difficult not to moan each word you speak.
“Good boy, my good boy. You’re doing so well for Mommy.”
He can’t really describe how he feels right now, but he knows that he doesn’t want to leave this headspace. He feels safe, that much is sure. He feels horny and pleasured, of course that is a given. But in a sense, he also feels high and far away.
This isn’t the first time that he gets to help you relieve your breasts of pressure. There is only so much your daughter can eat and only so much you can pump before it gets too much. Taehyung read in some of his countless pregnancy books that some wives like it when their husbands relieve them of the excess milk. He talked to you about it, you tried it and both loved it.
You because it genuinely helps with the soreness and pain and because he is so eager in his feast. Taehyung loves it because he gets to help you and be a good husband. His biggest fear is to end up being like his father, so when he gets to make you happy and help you instead of making you cry, very deep wounds heal on his heart. He loves it because he gets to be a good husband, he gets to be with you and share intimacy with you. And because you taste good.
You taste especially good tonight, making his head pound. Every single fiber in his body is submissive right now, charged in electricity because your touches feel really good.
Taehyung sobs, writhing on the sofa in his very distinct way which lets you know that he is going to orgasm way too soon. You spill on the couch because of it. He is so excited that he needs to climax. What a perfect boy he is.
“Do you wanna cum? Is Mommy making you cum?” you ask him, hand restless around his veiny shaft.
Taehyung sobs again, kicking his feet helplessly. His cock is so hot and swollen between your fingers, you fear that it might burst like a balloon soon. He is so perfect.
“You do? Then cum for me, okay? Cum for Mommy”, you encourage him, pumping his tip quickly.
Taehyung whimpers loudly, fulfilling your wish. He arches off the pillows, fingers dimpling your back as he grips you for support. His cock throbs angrily, shooting his cum all over his shirt and tie.
He sobs into you. He was in so much agony, he felt so bad and stressed and lonely. He was so sad. All of this built up in his stomach as painful pressure and you are releasing him off it. This one orgasm is healing him and it feels so good that he has to sob.
You moan with him, soaking up the view like a starved woman. You missed him so much. You missed how he shakes and writhes. You missed how his cock is so pretty when it squirts cum. And you missed how he is gripping whatever he gets a hold of.
“You’re so pretty when you cum. So pretty for Mommy”, you coo, pumping his tip needily. You know that he isn’t climaxing anymore, but you need more. So much more.
Taehyung reaches down hastily, pushing you away. He has had enough. You let off of him, caressing his twitching thighs instead. You need more, but need to hold back. It is so difficult. You want him so bad.
“Good boy, my good boy”, you praise him, trying to sound as normal as possible.
He pants and gulps for a few moments, clearly needing time to get back to you. His eyes open first, glassy and foggy they stare up at you.
“I’m sorry”, he croaks.
“For what?”
“I came too quickly. I didn’t mean to.”
“That’s okay, baby. Did you enjoy yourself?”
“Yes, so much”, he pouts, “thank you, Mommy.”
“Hm, you’re welcome, cutie”, you say and boop his nose with a snicker.
He soaks up the sound like an addict, gazing up at you. He loves you so much.
“I don’t want this to end”, he confesses.
“Me neither, but you’re soft.”
“I’ll eat you out, please.”
You writhe, biting down on your lower lip. You whimper your consent, nodding your head.
Taehyung rolls off the couch, not bothering to stuff his cock inside his slacks nor to clean up. He falls right between your legs, kneeling between them like a worshiper would before his goddess. He gazes up at you, drooling at this point.
“I saw your pussy when you sat down”, he confesses, eyes switching between your face and your exposed tits. They’re wet because his sucking made them leaky.
“Sorry?” you gasp.
“Your pussy. You’re not wearing any panties. I saw.”
“You did?”
“Yes, Mommy”, he whimpers.
“Well fuck”, you chuckle and open your legs, tugging the dress up your butt so you were completely exposed, “no need to hide then.”
Taehyung groans, tongue dripping drool as he gawks at you like a hungry dog.
“Whenever you’re read-”
He interrupts you by burying his face in your pussy with a hungry growl. He doesn’t waste any time going slow, lapping up your sweet nectar greedily.
You moan, dropping your head on the edge of the backrest and burying your hand in his hair. You lift your legs, placing them over his shoulders. He supports them by wrapping his arms around them, hands spreading out on your inner thighs.
“That’s it, holy fuck”, you moan, toes curling in ecstasy. You have been incredibly sensitive ever since you gave birth. One night you even confessed to him that you worried something was wrong with you because his touch felt so good to you. Taehyung called a doctor the next day who told him that this could happen and shouldn’t be reason for concern unless it becomes uncomfortable. When Taehyung then proceeded to ask what he could do to help, the doctor told him that the answer would be inappropriate but that Taehyung knows exactly what to do as your husband and to do it right. You laughed so hard when he confessed the phone call to you and how the doctor basically told him to just fuck you right. But that night, you soon couldn’t laugh anymore when Taehyung followed the doctor’s orders and fucked you so goddamn right.
Ever since then, Taehyung has been practically insane in his skills, regularly bringing you to the point of a liquid brain and a wobbly body. Tonight is no different. He uses his entire mouth on your pussy, switching between licking and sucking every inch of you. He also switches between your clit and your folds, sometimes lingering on your entrance as well.
“Tae more”, you beg during a moment he pulls his tongue away from your leaking hole. He lifts his head for a moment, checking for consent. You are blissed out, leaky tits heaving up and down and face glowing in bliss. Taehyung moans.
He looks back at your pussy, gathering his saliva so he could spit on you. He picks up the slick, stuffing it into your pussy a moment later as he buries three of his fingers inside your swollen walls. You arch off the sofa, twisting his hair just enough that there is a tug present but no pain. Taehyung doesn’t like pain and you never disrespect this limit, even if he is currently making you see stars.
“Holy fuck Taeeeee….”
Taehyung connects his sloppy mouth with your clit again, fucking his fingers out of you vigorously.
You practically curl up into a ball, thighs against your chest and ankles crossed. He is too good. You can’t handle the pleasure any other way.
“I can’t breathe, Mommy”, he lulls against you.
“Fuck, sorry, ahm.”
Weakly, you unravel yourself again, putting your feet on his shoulders and your own hands on his own thighs to force your legs to stay open. You grip your own flesh a second later when Taehyung fucks his fingers into you quickly, flicking his tongue over your clit just as quickly. He moans as he does it, forcing a loud noise of pleasure out of you.
Your toes grip his shoulders, your nails leave imprints on your thighs.
“Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck”, you chant, seeing entire galaxies.
Taehyung mewls and growls, spitting on his fingers hastily before his tongue dances on your clit again. The slip is so wet and messy. He doesn’t have his palm facing up, but sideways, allowing his long fingers to go so deep that you honestly feel stuffed to the brim.
You can’t do this. Taehyung isn’t the only one who had too much pressure built up in his stomach.
“I’m cumming”, you croak, breaking apart a second later. “Tae! Ah!”
Taehyung moans, swallowing your orgasm hungrily. He moves his fingers and tongue just right, helping you ride out the blissful warmth until you tell him to stop.
With shaking knees, he climbs onto the couch again. You don’t change position, letting him kneel on the pillow with one leg while the other was still on the floor.
You kiss messily, sloppily. He tastes like your squirt, you taste like bliss. You are both gone, moaning and gulping each other up as best as possible. Going days without talking nor seeing each other was torture. Going even longer without sex is literally the reason why you are acting like animals right now.
“I need you to fuck me”, you break the kiss, hands on the nape of his neck.
“Yes, Mommy. Please.”
“Good boy, do it.”
Taehyung nods his head vigorously and stands up. He takes off his pants and briefs, but keeps his ruined shirt on. You get into position in the meantime, kneeling on the couch with your stomach against the backrest and your butt facing him.
He moans at the view but doesn’t acknowledge it any further because he is too needy for you. You look at him over your shoulder, grabbing his tie to tug him closer.
“You’re mine. Mommy’s pretty boy.”
“Holy fuck, Mommy”, he moans, spilling submissive tears. His chest melts with your back, his arms cage you in as he lets you pull him into a kiss. His right hand is on your stomach at first, caressing it, but soon slips to your exposed tits to knead them eagerly. He has one knee on the sofa and the other foot on the floor. You moan and mewl, tongue kissing him back eagerly while your left hand dances down to align his newly hardened cock with your dripping pussy. Once he is, you push your hips back, swallowing him whole.
The kiss breaks because Taehyung broke it in a submissive moan, swollen lips pressing against your cheek.
“That’s it. Filling up Mommy so well…”
“Mommy…”
“So pretty, you sound so pretty when you call me that.”
He bottoms out. You instantly begin rutting into him, fucking his cock fast and sloppily.
His right hand slips from your tits, gripping the backrest as well. His normally deep voice comes out a high-pitched whimper, face dropping into the crook of your shoulder.
He drives you mad. You drop your head to the front, twisting his grey tie. It feels so good to fuck yourself on him. He is such a good dildo. The way his cock curves is so perfect for positions like tonight’s. You are getting stimulated at the deepest spots, making you wish that he could fucking live in you.
Taehyung is a mess behind you, drooling on your shoulder and spilling constant tears of pleasure. He knew that he missed you, that the long hours in his lonely office made him needy, but he wasn’t aware of how bad it actually was. He knows that he should be moving his hips right now, but he can’t. He is frozen in too much pleasure, reduced to serve as your dildo to fuck yourself on as he tries not to pass out in the process.
“Good boy, good fucking boy. Mommy’s good boy”, you chant, riding on a literal high.
“Mommyyy”, he keens, throbbing inside you.
“Soo good. Touch my clit.”
Taehyung obeys, moaning with you as you tighten around his cock.
“Good boy, ah!” you throw your head back, fucking him faster. The position you find yourself in, makes your tits naturally hang over the edge of the sofa. They are hurting from not being touched.
“Actually, changed my mind. Touch my fucking tits. They’re so heavy.”
Taehyung obeys instantly, holding your swollen tits in his big hands.
“Good boy. Fuck yes, hold Mommy’s heavy tits. Fuck baby…”
Taehyung bites your shoulder, hips stuttering as your words make them work against his will. No wonder he got you pregnant. Taehyung always forgets how good you are at sex and how much power you have over him until he is balls deep inside you and you literally ruin him. No wonder you managed to get yourself pregnant on him, when you fuck like this it is bound to happen that Taehyung nuts in you as deep as his seed can go and it actually fucking works. There is no way around it.
“Mommy, it’s too much”, he sobs.
“Too much? Need a break?”
“No. No, just too much. Too good. Aaah.”
“Mmh so good. Mommy’s so proud of you, baby. You’re fucking me so well”, you praise, fingers rubbing your clit vigorously.
“I have to cum again, Mommy.”
“Don’t hold back, fill me up.” You encourage him with clenches of your walls. “Make me a Mommy again.”
Taehyung breaks instantly, and with such utter need that he accidentally pins you against the sofa to rut into you. The praise you wanted to moan gets knocked out of you, loud wails replace it. Your eyes go cross, your limbs shake. He is fucking you just right, making your walls tremble as he fills them with his creamy cum.
He wants to slow down afterwards but you stop him with a yelp.
“Don’t stop! I’m close!”
Taehyung somehow growls and whimpers at the same time, hands kneading your tits to the point they leak against their will. His cock aches, but he can’t stop. Not when his beautiful, soft wife is so close to an explosive orgasm. He knows how sensitive you are, how much sex you need, how he had neglected you unwillingly. He needs to serve and please and submit to your pleasure to finally make up for what you had to miss out on.
“Mommy, my cock is so sensitive. Oh god Mommy”, he is still whining about his condition, crying into your shoulder.
“Soon. Soon. Please harder. Everything.”
Taehyung understands. He bites your shoulder again, speeding up his hips as he slams his cummy cock into your creamed walls repeatedly. He squeezes your tits harder, rubbing your swollen nipples between his fingers vigorously.
“Tae!” you scream, breaking apart simultaneously. It feels so good that you can’t tell if it started in your pussy, in your clit or in your nipples. All you know is that it makes you writhe and shake and sob because you haven’t had this kind of orgasm in so long. Taehyung fucks you through it, seeing light as he fears for his life. He keeps going despite all that, fucking you so good that have to squirt a second time, soiling his legs and the sofa with it.
“Urgh woah”, you let out once then give up, dropping into the backrest which forces his cock to slip out of you. You spill his cum instantly, groaning in relief.
Taehyung drops beside you into the sofa, burying his hands in his hair to twist it in disbelief. He can barely even breathe. What the fuck was this?
You pant next to him, feeling shocked as well.
It takes the two of you a while to recover from what just happened. The sex was just too intense and your bodies are too broken.
You are the one to end the forced silence.
“Are you okay?”
“I don’t know”, he whispers.
You and he turn your head slowly, locking eyes.
“I think I can’t move.”
“Me neither.”
You break first, Taehyung follows, showing you his prettiest boxy smile as he laughs with you wholeheartedly. You manage to get out of your trance as you laugh, falling into each other’s arms to hug.
“This was actually insane”, you say.
“Yeah, oh god, I can’t believe you let me call you Mommy.”
“Not gonna lie that was like super hot and sexy. I don’t know what this says about me. Or us for that matter.”
“That we’ll do it again one day?”
You lift your head to meet his gaze. He is giving you the cutest puppy eyes ever.
“Mhm definitely.” You cradle his flushed cheek, caressing his heated skin. “You’re actually the cutest and hottest man at the same time. I think I might be pregnant again just because you’re so sexy.”
He laughs, eyes glimmering shyly.
“Don’t say that”, he mumbles, playing with his own hair giddily.
“I mean it. Gosh you, you’re the best. Mwuah”, you say, giving him a big smooch.
He giggles, kicking his feet happily. You giggle with him, hugging him against your chest.
“You also seriously helped me with my tits. I thought that they would burst tonight.”
He hums, closing his eyes as he seeks your scent and rubs your back.
“I love helping you. Knowing that I can relieve some of that pressure is all I want.”
“You are helping, so much.”
You and he share a nice silence where you hug each other. It is so healing to be with each other. You love each other so much.
Taehyung’s rumbling stomach breaks the silence. You lift your head, meeting his embarrassed gaze.
“Are you hungry?”
“Did you hear my stomach?”
“Loud and clearly.”
Taehyung pouts, and huffs out air, “I haven’t eaten since lunch. I’m so hungry.”
“That’s not good. Luckily for you, Misses Choi made dinner before she left. Come on, we’ll clean up and then eat it together.”
“Really?” he gasps, eyes lighting up at the aspect of finally having dinner with you again.
“Of course. We have so many lost dinners to make up for and I’m hungry again. I’m always hungry lately.”
Taehyung giggles, letting you pull him to his feet so he could follow you to the bathroom hand in hand.
He came home grumpy tonight, but even the concept of this emotion is gone from his heart now that he can finally be with you again. Oh he is going to cuddle you so, so good tonight.
#taehyung smut#taehyung fanfic#taehyung fanfiction#taehyung scenario#taehyung oneshot#taehyung x reader#taehyung x you#sub!taehyung#bts smut#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts scenario#bts oneshot#bts x reader#bts x you#sub!bts#bangtan smut#bangtan fanfic#bangtan fanfiction#bangtan scenario#bangtan oneshot#bangtan x reader#bangtan x you#sub!bangtan#fanfic: kinktober24#fanfic: ihyily
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Jayce and Viktor Dating Someone with ADHD • Headcanon
(Gif not mine)
Request: Hiiii how are you? I love your stories so I was wondering if you could write more jayvik x reader but who has adhd? TYSMM -- anon and Your Jayvik + reader headcanons have me are giddy and are healing my soul. Is it possible to ask for a some headcanons with a reader who has ADHD and also forgets to eat because of it?? I hope your day is kind to you! -- anon
Warnings: gn!reader, reader has ADHD, mentions of food and eating/not eating, these are lowkey kinda short im so sorry lol
A.N: Disclaimer: I don't have ADHD but I have many friends that do and while ADHD presents itself differently for people, I tried to keep this a bit generalized, I hope that's ok!! If anything needs changing or needs to be deleted for being inaccurate or anything, just let me know! Hope you guys enjoy!!
•
Jayce and Viktor are both very understanding people, so when you told them you had ADHD they didn’t have a problem with it. They are, however, problem solvers (they are inventors with the dream of making Piltover and Zaun better for the people), meaning they are very curious about your habits and how they can help. They don’t want to “cure” you, because there’s nothing to cure, but they want to understand how to reassure you and how to make living with ADHD easier on a day-to-day basis
If you’re someone who fidgets with things a lot, Jayce will happily pick up the task of making something that satisfies your need to occupy your hands and your thoughts. He loves being in the forge and he’ll gladly let you sit in there with him and listen to you describe what you would want. He’ll sit next to you, sketching out the design while you ramble about what textures are better than others or how weighty it should feel in your hand. Jayce honestly loves this little side project; not only does it let him work on something other than his research, but it also puts a smile on your face
If you like rambling for hours about your latest hyperfixation, Viktor is the best for that. He has a naturally curious mind and would love to learn something new. He especially likes it when your head is resting on his chest in the middle of the night. Viktor likes watching you move your hands as you talk excitably about the plant life in Ionia or the history of the Yordles. He doesn’t just listen—he’ll ask you questions or give you reading material he thinks you may like as well
Going to Council parties or even just walking through Piltover can really overwhelm you sometimes, either with all the noise or the texture of your clothing feeling off, so your partners are very attentive to your wellbeing. The three of you set up a codeword for anyone to use when someone needs or wants to leave. They try to make it something funny every time to hopefully ease the panic a little bit. Usually Jayce and Viktor are glued to either side of you hip, but in the off chance they have to roam around the room, the two of them will try to keep an eye on you. They will always reassure you that it's ok that they are leaving these sorts of events early (Viktor barely wants to go in the first place), and when you get home the three of you will do something to calm everyone down and get into comfortable clothes
Having ADHD, you tend to get distracted/forget to do certain things. This usually includes eating. Your partners never want to seem overbearing or like they're smothering you, so they will try to subtly remind you to eat/do certain things. Jayce likes writing you little notes and putting them in the apartment. Usually they have little hearts in the corners with some encouraging remark after "remember to eat!" Viktor will usually try to eat with you, so you won't feel alone while eating. He'll be making something and he'll set the table for either two or three and that just reminds you to actually sit down and eat what Viktor makes
Your partners are very patient and are always open to new ideas. if you want them to do something different or if something works really well, they would love to hear it. They absolutely will not be mad at all, they love you so much and all they want to do is help make things easier for you
•
#arcane#arcane x reader#arcane x you#arcane headcanons#jayce#jayce talis#jayce talis x reader#jayce talis x you#jayce x viktor#jayce talis x viktor#viktor arcane#arcane viktor#viktor x reader#viktor x you#viktor x jayce#viktor x jayce talis#jayvik x reader#jayvik x you#jayvik headcanons#jayce x reader x viktor#jayce x you x viktor
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FUCK ME LIKE THE MEN BETWEEN THOSE PAGES
Bottom John Price x Top Male Reader
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Just Price brain rot🤤 I've always wanted to a model for MLM porn sites ngl so I'm living through this fic🙏 As usual not proofread :)
FEM ALIGNED + MINORS DNI
Prices would be one of those faceless models for those erotic gay romance novels. All his work would be faceless. Just something he did to make money on the side.
It was a secret that was long forgotten. Memories replaced by his military service. His body more scarred than his younger self's. His own books but they were just collecting dust in a box.
When you got together, you had found one of the books Price had forgotten that was on a shelf. Your eyes grew wide as you noiced it was Price's shirtless body on the front cover. A small mole on his left hip was telltale that it was him.
Flipping the book over and reading the synopsis reveals the dirty content of it. All the colour washes from Price's face as he sees what you have in your hand.
Price was about to open his mouth to quickly deny it but saw your giddy excitement. Though Price felt a bit shameful, he told you that there was more. A lot more.
With much hesitation from him and a whole lot more convincing from you, Price lent you the books. His amazing body on every single one of them. A new scar here and there as the
He had been surprised that you never poked fun at him and that you were genuinely interested in his past works.
You'd admit that the sex scenes depicted were the main thing that got you interested. You'd imagine Price vividly as the characters he model on the front covers. It didn't take long for you to read through the lot of them.
When Price would be on deployment, he'd get a text from you.
Cum on the front cover or on the pages. Or others with your erect cock slotted like a bookmark between the pages with the dirtiest scenes, precum dripping onto the sheets.
You'd send worded texts underneath the photo like "Try these with me?" or "What if were we the ones to do this?"
Price hated himself for showing you the books right before the mission, making the wait painfully long.
Sexualy frustrated and slightly pissed he had to wait for his deployment to end, Price would have a lonely wank in his barracks. His fingers didn't feel right. His fantasies never felt like details in the books. Nothing felt like you.
Once he got back, Price had to fight back a boner as the anticipation took over him. He went through countless cigars trying to get his mind on something else. The 141 Boys knew something was up. Soap had to control the intrusive thoughts to ask if you were waiting naked when Price returned home.
Which he wasn't wrong. The moment Price came through that door he was already painfully hard. Before he could even open his mouth to greet you, you were on him like a fly to honey, attacking his neck with bruising kisses. Whispering the dirty dialog from one of the books made Price weak in the knees.
Thus was the beginning of your roleplay sex.
Your playtime is always different. Numerous scenarios with one thing in common: Mind blowing sex.
Price would play a royal guard, and you, the prince. A prince in a loveless engagement to a princess. A guard pleading loyalty as he rides the prince on the royal throne.
A grade slipping college student fucking his teacher in an empty classroom for extra credit. Blowjows underneath desks replaces the outdated method of study and paying attention to lectures.
A hunter who falls in love with a werewolf he's supposed to kill. The wolf is just a dumb puppy who needs to be told what to do. With a collar around his neck, ready to be tugged at and the willingness to please his master, puppy soon becomes skilled at lapping at master's hole.
A rowdy rockstar and his stressed out manager. The musician needing to burn off the adrenaline after the show and the poor management needing the stress fucked out of him. The real show was played backstage. The manager put on quite the proformance, his deep moans sounded much better than your singing.
A sex therapist that prefers to take on a more hands-on approach. That skilled tongue was used more than just giving advice.
Or lastly, a priest beguiled by a gorgeous sinner. Guilt was all he felt but it felt like true heaven. God would forgive any sin if he showed true repentance, right? Wouldn't Jesus have died for nothing if we didn't sin?
Sure, some where terrible written and some were written by women with a fetish for gay men. Seeing you act out the scenes without missing a beat or breaking out into laughter while you quoted the dirtiest and most ridiculous things.
You'd remember every dirty word uttered. Every scenario memorized. Price was starting to understand what those white women on TikTok saw in those fucking books. It was just too bad they couldn't live it out like he could.
#call of duty x male reader#call of duty x reader#x reader#x male reader#john price x reader#john price x male reader#sub character#dom male reader#dom reader#cod x male reader#cod x reader#call of duty mw2#call of duty mw3#☆*charlie writes
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Ride Pt. 2 || Theodore F. Nott
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Summary: Your relationship with Theo escalates further
Set after the Battle of Hogwarts!
Warnings: Sexual content, Smut, Mentions of violence, Theo is in love, Theo is obsessed with his wife!!
—————————————————————————
The spring had flourished into summer almost overnight, giving way to the birth of the sunlight and the heat that came with it. The Nott family home had grown more and more familiar as these days passed and you hoped that it would continue.
Things had shifted around the house, and not just because of the change in weather. You and Theodore finally began to align like rigid puzzle pieces. What was once a secret glance became a staring contest, being in the same room became sitting together and rooms on the other side of the house became Theo sneaking into your bed each night and staying to just be with you.
You soon became comfortable with the marriage, allowing Theo to shadow you around the house from time to time or even to sleep in your bed with you, sometimes you even allowed him to distract you from your reading and eat fruit with you on the lawn. As your relationship bloomed, you thought back to the very night that broke the silence.
It had become a regular occurrence now for Theo to spread you over your bedsheets and burying his head between your thighs. But that was all. Even as the months passed by, he hadn’t asked for anything more from you, only to sleep beside you and watch you as you slept. You obliged, not minding the company. You grew used to the familiar creaking of floorboards and the gentle nudges against your skin as he slipped into what was now his side of the bed.
But something urged you further than your new routine, to find out the extent of what could be done. You wanted to know what it felt like to be completely and utterly full with him, body and soul.
So, when he finally crept into your room in the dead of night, worshipped by the dim lick of candlelight, you were already waiting for him. His deep blue eyes watched you like he never had before, sensing the shift in the air. As he got closer, you sat up, looking over the expanse of his body. His hard chest was blanketed by a soft jumper which made him all the more comfortable than he already was, and his legs were clothed in a simple pair of sweats, ready for bed. It may have not been all that enticing, but the sight of him always seemed to drive you crazy. There was something about him so siren-like, so enchanting.
“You’re awake?” He asked you with his smooth voice and cheeky smile. You nodded, waiting for him to get closer so you could finally reach out to him. “I thought you’d be asleep, I didn’t mean to wake you, Bella.”
He drew your duvet back and climbed into bed with you, lying flat on his back with his hands over his middle. You turned to him.
Bringing a gentle hand to his head, you brushed his stray curls from his forehead as he watched you with tired eyes. He happily reciprocated your soft kisses as his eyelashes fluttered against your cheekbones and he breathed in your air.
You couldn’t stop, you needed him. You needed to drink every ounce of him up, you needed to feel him all over you, you needed his soft hands to touch you and hold you to him. It was as though, suddenly, you were overcome by desperation, or better yet, adoration.
He sighed softly, fanning soft air onto you as one of his hands cupped your neck, the other finding the small of your back and pulling you closer to him still. You gladly obliged, pressing your chest against his and kissing him like he was your final breath, your only lifeline.
Theo felt giddy at the sudden attention on him. Your experimental hand dragged over his chest and slowly down over his stomach. He couldn’t help but squirm in anticipation at the idea of your hand trialling any lower. Your fingers entwined in the waistband of his sweats and you ran your fingertips lightly over the edge of the fabric.
By the sounds that he was making, you could tell that he needed you just as much you needed him.
Your pinky preached the top of his bottoms and ran over the slowly tanning skin of his abdomen as he kissed over your cheek and jaw. His pillowy lips traced over the curve of your jaw, leaving hot and damp hair to travel down your neck as his breath began to deepen upon your fingers trailing beneath his bottoms.
You pulled back, the ghost of your lips hovered over his as you watched for his reaction as your fingers began to brush over the tiny curls at the base of his cock. Slowly, they came into contact with the ache that Theo so desperately wanted to ignore, until your smooth hands were wrapped around it, he could have died on the spot.
His head flew back against the pillow, his eyes shut and his brows pulled into a deep frown, not of perplexity, but of utter pleasure. Your grip tightened ever so slightly around the thickness of his dick and he keened from where he lay. His mouth tipped open, so you opted to kiss around the apples of his cheeks, over every mole and dimple, further down over his neck and in the sickly sweet spot behind his ear, whispering for him to take off his top.
Theo couldn’t help but shiver as he peeled off his jumper, revealing him to the cool air and your piercing gaze. Every inch of his gorgeous skin was kissed by the sun, leaving freckles and birthmarks in its wake. You made sure to do the same, bending your head to press your lips against the moles on his collarbones. Theo sighed softly as you began to work your hand as best as you could whilst it was restricted by the fabric of his underwear, the sound carrying through the room. Merlin, he hadn’t even taken the rest of his clothing yet, but you felt him in the place where you needed him most, and he was big.
His slender hand soothed over your back as you sucked light purple bruises into his chest and neck while you pumped at his cock, encouraging you to do something, anything further. He didn’t know if he could take any more anticipation. He’d been waiting for you to allow him the chance to sink into you at last, but he was so desperate and pussy-whipped that anything would do. He waited patiently and happily for his climax and inevitably cumming in his pants again, until you slipped your hand back out of his underwear.
You looked up at him with desire on your face and he knew what you’d ask. “Take these off.” You told him and he obeyed.
Theo thought you could ask him anything and he’d obey, just like a slave to your command, not that he’d mind. It was just one of the many things he’d do for you in order to satisfy you.
He lay before you, nearly bare except for his underwear which did nothing to conceal the embarrassingly obvious fact of his need. His chest lifted up and down as his lungs worked double time and you eyed him admiringly. Despite the hardness beneath his boxers, you gently squeezed him through the fabric, enjoying the tortured whine he gave out.
You hushed him sweetly, rubbing your thumb over his bottom lip with a grin. His eyes lit up with desperation. You booked a finger beneath the band of his boxers, yanking them firmly, and with his help, he became entirely exposed to you. You still wore your nightgown, which he eyed hopefully, but you made no move to take it off just then.
The lower you took your body, the higher Theo’s heart rate became, until your face was just above his crotch and he swore that he felt his heart stop. Testing the waters, your hand wrapped around him once again and brought your mouth down to place a teasing kiss over the tip of his dick. He puffed out a breath that he never knew he was holding and entangled a hand in your hair.
Slowly, you grazed the underside of his cock with your tongue, trailing over the soft skin with ease, wetting it with your saliva. You continued to do so, each time your tongue met the tip, you’d broaden your tongue and do the same thing over again as he grew more and more restless each time. You placed a reassuring hand on his thigh as they began to tremble and your thumb rubbed the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, dangerously close to the curve of his balls. His head pressed harshly into the pillows behind him as he panted.
Finally, after what felt like forever, you took the very tip of his dick into your lips, surprising you at how much bigger he was than you thought. You sucked, hard, and he let out a deep moan at the sensation. It was an unusual situation to you, but you found that you could learn quickly about what he liked, so you continued to suck. Your hand pumped his length as you suckled and licked at his tip, gaining confidence as his noises grew louder.
His cock began to throb and his balls tightened, the only warning he was able to give being the grip on your hair clamping down. That was when you pulled off of him with a ‘pop’.
“But- Wh-“ He began, but you cut him off with a kiss, enjoying how quick he was to melt into your sudden affection.
You didn’t give him long to ponder as you slipped your nightgown over your head, revealing your naked body for him to see. His intense gaze lingered over your chest before it trailed down to your wet pussy. You supposed he was half expecting for you to sit on his face like you often did, but you took him by surprise when you asked him:
“Are you gonna let me fuck you?”
Of course he was, how couldn’t he? All he’d wanted since he saw you in the big white dress at the wedding was to take you to bed and make love to you. And now that you were finally going to allow him the honour? How could he say no?
“Merlin, yes!” He rasped, watching you as you swung a leg over his hips as though mounting a horse. His eyes didn’t know where to look, so they raked over you as he prepared for you to take him.
You smiled sweetly, leaning down to peck his lips with your own. You took him into your hand and dragged his tip over your soaked folds; you had no idea how much pleasure it gave you to hear him whine. Finally, you lined his tip up against where you needed him most and sunk down onto him.
Theo felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him, you were right above him, as beautiful as the sun and the sky and he’d never felt such bliss. For a second, he swore he saw heaven.
That was until you started to move, and he was rendered powerless against the pleasure you were giving him. He moaned fully now, head twisting into the pillow as though it would give him some relief to be rid of the sight of you. He couldn’t take it, he was sure to come just by looking at you. His mouth was hung open as though he was screaming in agony, except he was only tensing in pure unbridled pleasure.
His length hit against the most dangerous of angles inside of you, sending shocks up your spine as you clenched around him. The twinge of pain you’d felt at the initial stretch had quickly subsided as you began to bounce on top of him and was replaced by a blinding blood rush to your head. You felt dizzy, only it was in the best way possible.
With each brush against his skin, your clit was stimulated, forcing you to let out a sigh each time. He poured every inch of his soul into yours with every breath he took, watching you like a lifetime of his memories and future all at once, worshipping at your altar of your goddess. He’d serve you, he’d obey, he’d care for you, if you allowed him.
You let out a loud cry as his hips jolted from the bed, pressing against your cervix in a sudden pain, though it soon dissipated, soothing into sparks of pleasure. He forced his weight off of the bed in time with you, encased to the hilt of his cock in your soft pussy. And with every meeting of your hips, the warmth in your belly loosened, allowing you to steal bursts of pleasure for your body. Heat throbbed over your body and your heart pounded, you were so close.
And then it stopped. Theo pulled you off of him with a firm grip, eyes wide, pupils dilated. He looked almost feral as you frowned up at him as he took his place above you. Without wasting a second, his lips were on you, trailing over your chest and sucking your nipples into his mouth.
His hand lowered down to where you needed him the most, guiding his painfully hard dick into your tight entrance, sighing as you squeezed him to nicely. The softness of his hair on your sternum, the kindness of his hands and the noises he made, it was all taking its toll on you. You were surrounded by him, his arms encasing you, the warmth from his body still on the sheets that you rested against, his dick inside of you. He was everything in that moment.
The slapping of skin filled the air as he drove his hips harder and faster with each pull of your charm. He let out a choked sigh as he pounded into you, chasing his high more desperately than he ever had. His constant motion made you clench around him, feeling your orgasm creep up through your spine.
“Theo!” You gasped, and he responded with a pitiful whimper. He’d dreamed about the way that you’d cry his name, about this very situation. It was feeling so real, so much. He couldn’t help but be dragged closer to the edge.
He buried his hot face into your hair, moaning with each thrust of his hips, his feet pushing against the sheets to look for any way to sink deeper into you.
Your body erupted with the winding of warmth and unbearable pleasure. Your orgasm washed over you like a tide as Theo’s body met your own. You tensed and it was like nothing you’d ever felt before, your thighs shook from where they were wrapped around his hips and your hand clawed at his scalp like you could pull yourself up from the fire of hell. But nothing felt better than the flames licking at your skin.
He couldn’t help but feel bus eyes water with tears as he so desperately wanted to scream. His climax hit him like a brick straight to the face, so much that he could hardly feel his own body. He tried to cry out, but it was as though you had complete control over his body as you shared your pleasure like treasured goods.
You felt him still, pushing into you as much as he could. That was when you felt him spill into you, a kind of warmth pouring into you, you realised that he’d just come inside of you, not that you minded. His skin was moist as he slipped his weight on top of you, and every inch of you was now touching him. You could get used to it.
You wondered if his nightly visits would escalate to this in the future. You certainly hoped so.
pt.1
#harry potter#harry potter fic#theodore nott#sub! theo nott#theodore nott one shot#theo nott one shot#theo nott fic#theo nott smut#theodore nott smut#switch!theo nott#smut#theo nott x reader#theo nott#theo nott x you
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you’re my fucking star
pairing: charles leclerc x model!reader
summary: what happens when Charles meets his celebrity crush?
warning: tiny bit of fluff, f! receiving, slight breeding kink
Charles always had his eye on you. Even during his teenage years, watching you grow up to be a model. In interviews, he’s mentioned having a crush on you, how he’d wish to meet you. He’s been to a few shows to watch you, you were absolutely stunning. He’s even bought a few magazines that has you on the cover.
He was staring again, a Nova Cora crêpe satin dress made by Vivienne Westwood hugging your curves perfectly, your hair flowing down your shoulders, your smile lighting the room up. He takes notice of every single detail about you.
The party was at the Mclaren driver’s house and you were invited. Lando and you had been childhood best friends and he always invited you to watch his races which to everyone’s surprise, they figured you were both dating which made Charles’s blood boil.
“You alright, mate?” Charles snaps out of his trance when he heard Carlos’s voice, turning around to see him handing a glass of champagne.
“M’ fine.” Charles grumps as he downs his champagne, keeping his sharp gaze on you when Lando comes from behind, placing a palm on your back.
Carlos shrugs at his grumpiness before heading off for another glass of champagne. Charles was left in his thoughts, wondering if he should make a move.
You could feel Charles’s gaze burning a hole through you, little did he know. Lando knew that he had a thing for you but he never says anything about it. You excuse yourself from the conversation as you head to the restroom and Charles took that opportunity to follow you.
Your heart slightly jumps when you see Charles leaning against the wall, straightening his back when he sees you come out of the bathroom.
He clears his throat, “Sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you. I was just-”
“Following me?”
Charles’s cheek burn with embarrassment, quickly denying the fact that he was following and watching you. You smile at his expression, ‘cute’ you thought.
“I just need to use to restroom as well.” What a shit lie, Charles. He mentally curses in French, making you giggle. “At the women’s bathroom?”
“N-No, I um. I wanted to ask if you’d join me for dinner tomorrow night.” Charles was nervous, it might seem a little rushed, considering he followed you to the bathroom just to ask you out, he could’ve waited till the night ended but he didn’t.
Your heart flutters in surprise and so did your answer.
“I’d love to, Charles.” Charles couldn’t help but let out a sheepish smile, his heart feeling giddy.
“I’ll see you tomorrow night then.” He smiles before you give him a nod, walking back to the crowd as he watches the way your body moves.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
It was the night you were having dinner with Charles. You liked Charles, more than you expected. Those sneaky glances he gave when he thought you wouldn’t notice, those nice gestures he made whenever he tried to impress you.
You felt the same way he did, ever since he made his debut in formula 2. The first time you actually met him was when Lando won his first podium, everyone was rushing to take pictures of him, bumping into each other when you bumped into Charles, a digital camera of yours that you dearly loved slipping from your hands.
It broke and Charles couldn’t help but feel bad. You shrugged it off saying it was fine but Charles insisted on buying a new one for you, which he did.
He left it for you in the Mclaren garage, a small apology note that wrote,
‘sorry for breaking your camera, hope this one fills new memories, C.L.’
Reading that note instantly made you fell for him. You never told anyone, not even Lando.
You arrive at the restaurant Charles insisted on going, walking inside as you glance around to look for him. There he was.
The sight of him wearing a suit with those glasses made your clit throb, you kept a straight face before walking over to him. He sees you and his smile beams, he gets up from his seat, pulling your chair out for you to sit.
You smile, giving him a small thanks as he sits down as well.
“tu es magnifique..” you look beautiful. He mutters, his gaze taking every inch of you, his heart pounding in his chest.
“tu es beau toi-même.” you look handsome yourself. Charles stops, looking at you in surprise. He didn’t expect you to speak French. “You speak French?” He grins.
You laugh softly with a nod, shrugging. “You could say that.”
Charles lets out another grin, the love of his life a gorgeous woman who spoke French as well, you have him on a tight leash.
This is going to be a long night.
You were glad dinner went well with Charles tonight. You both spoke about your dreams, your hobbies, your careers, anything to know about each other. You listened to him explain about his love for driving, how it’s because of his late father.
You were both on the way back to his apartment, the ride silent as the soft music plays through the radio.
Charles sneaks a glance when he notices the way you bit your lip, the way your thighs were clenched. Blood rushing straight to his cock. He keeps his attention to the road, his mind filled with the thoughts of fucking you.
He parked his car in the driveway, opening the car door for you as he leads you inside his apartment. It was comfy, there were pictures of him hung up on the wall. His trophies arranged nicely on the cabinet.
He watches the way your hips move and he swallows hard, trying his best not to bend you over the couch and fuck you.
“Do you want anything to drink?” He asks and you shake your head, “I’m alright, thanks.”
Your breathing becomes shaky when you face Charles, his body moving towards yours as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him and you swore you felt his hard cock pressed against your clothed pussy.
“Charles..” you whisper, your breath hitting his.
“Hm?” his eyes find yours, his fingers sliding down your back, goosebumps starting to form on your skin. He’s wanted this for years, to touch you, to taste you.
“Fuck me, Charles.”
That’s all he wanted to hear. He lifts you up, your legs wrapped around his waist before he lays you down on the couch, pulling your legs apart before he starts kissing the insides of your thighs.
His nose nudges your clothed pussy before he rips your panties off, sucking on your clit.
You throw your head back, letting out pornographic moans as he continues to lick your pussy.
“So fucking sweet.” He murmurs, sucking harder which makes you clamp your thighs around his head but his hands keeps a firm grip on them to hold you down.
You were a whimpering mess, so close to coming. Charles then slides in two fingers and you moan, gripping his hair tighter before he groans. He could feel you clenching around his fingers and it only takes five seconds for you to cum when he whispers.
“Come for me, jolie fille.” pretty girl. And you do, your cum dripping down his fingers and he licks them clean, groaning at how sweet you taste. “So sweet, baby.”
Charles then undos his pants, letting it drop to the floor. His cock hard, the tip red and swollen before he slides inside of your slick, wet pussy. “Charles!” you gasp, shutting your eyes as he starts to fucks you.
“You’re so fucking tight, mon ange.” my angel. He pants out, his glasses fogging up made him look hotter and you lean in, smashing your lips against his, his tongue slipping in to taste you.
You both were close to coming, the sound of your skins slapping filled the room. Charles couldn’t take it anymore as he whimpers out.
“Cum for me, baby.” You let out a cry of pleasure, arching your back as you finally cum. His cum shooting inside of you, loading your pussy up.
He kisses your forehead gently before holding you in his arms, both your breaths heavy when he whispers.
“I think I’m in love.”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
hope you guys enjoyed it!!
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soooo eddie hears or reads somewhere that birthmarks are where your lover from a past life used to kiss you
and as soon as he gets home he wants to make sure that in this present life r still feel this love and that the birthmarks remain the same until their next life together (ugh so cute 🥺)
i changed this up a wee bit but i hope u like it!! — you and eddie kiss birthmarks on the other for the next life (established relationship, fluff, 0.7k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
Eddie traces shapes on your bare back, a post-sex ritual of sorts. It starts out innocent, usually — tiny hearts and flowers and planets that you try hard to guess. It almost always ends with him signing penises onto your spine and laughing out loud every time you realize.
He’s doing it mindlessly now. Touching you just to touch you. His finger trails up your back, circles over your shoulder blades, and then falls back down again. “Did you know you have a birthmark here?” he wonders, breaking the honeyed silence of his tiny bedroom.
Your brows furrow as he traces some sort of outline between your shoulder and spine. “Do I?” you murmur, muffled into the pillow.
“I think so. It’s really faint.”
“Maybe it’s just dirt,” you joke quietly. You don’t see Eddie pull his hand away to lick his finger, but you feel the wet touch of it when it swipes over your back. “Ew, Eddie!” you shout.
“It’s not dirt,” he confirms, choking back a laugh.
“I’ve ever noticed it, I guess. I don’t think I’ve ever looked that hard back there. Like, ever.”
Eddie scoffs, almost in disbelief. “That’s a shame…” he murmurs.
His finger is gentle and featherlight as it trails down your bare back, leaving chill bumps in its wake. His hand dips below the sheets covering the bottom half of you. His palm spreads unabashedly over your ass, wide and warm.
“…’Cause there’s a real nice view back here.”
You lift a heavy hand to swat at the boy beside you. It collides halfheartedly with his shoulder. He laughs again. “What?! I’m talking about the birthmark, babe! It’s cute— I love noticing new things about you.”
“Don’t people say that’s how you died in a past life? Wherever your birthmark is?”
Your tired eyes open to find Eddie’s screwed-up face. “Does that mean someone stabbed me in the ass? In, like, the middle ages or some shit? ‘Cause that’s a fucking gnarly way to go.”
“Better than being stabbed in the back… Literally.”
Eddie settles next to you with a huff. He lays on his stomach and shoves half his face into the pillow next to yours, all but melting into the mattress. He keeps tracing the mark on your back with an absentminded touch, never anything but gentle with you.
“Wanna know what I heard?” he mumbles.
“Hm?”
“I heard that birthmarks are where your lover used to kiss you— you know, in a past life or whatever,” he confesses, like it’s a deeply held secret. Then he shrugs his milky white shoulders. “That’s what my mom used to say, anyway. And that woman was never wrong.”
You smile quietly to yourself. Eddie doesn’t talk about his mom very often. You feel a special privilege to be hearing about her now.
“I believe it,” you hum.
His contented grin blooms into something wider and more boyish. “That means someone might’ve been kissing my ass in a past life.”
“That’s awful,” you grumble with a scrunched nose. “Now, I have to give you a new one.”
“Choose wisely, princess,” Eddie lilts and turns onto his back. He spreads his arms out wide and beams when you lean over him. “My future depends on it.”
You don’t think very long. Maybe a moment or more. You press your lips to his chest, just below the faded tattoo on his pec and right over his beating heart. You smile when you pull away, all giddy like a teenage girl, and lay back down again.
Eddie’s chest sparkles with so much adoration it hurts. He laughs it off anyway. “Alright, cheeseball— It’s my turn.”
“You have to do it in the same place!” you argue in a tiny voice when the boy lays over you. He props his weight on his elbows and entwines his legs with yours. The heavy closeness feels like heaven.
“Why?”
“So we’ll have matching birthmarks! And then, when we’re in the next life or whatever, and we look like totally different people, we’ll know we loved each other.”
Eddie scoffs. “I’ll know.”
“How?”
“How will I know that I loved you?” he repeats, like the answer’s obvious and far too silly to ponder. You nod, and he shrugs. “‘Cause I have to. I can’t help it.”
Something warm blooms behind your ribcage. “And I’m the cheesy one?” you tease with a big, girlish grin.
“It’s your fault. You bring the worst outta me, honey.”
You laugh when he drops his head to your chest, pressing a kiss over your heart and lingering there. You pray it stains forever.
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