#one pact smut | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

delusionsofgrandeur13 · 9 months ago

Text

pt. 2

you just saw your ex boyfriend, dick grayson, for the first time since he broke up with you.

you ran into him on the street.

no, like, literally ran into him.

you were walking your mom’s dog for her, a german shepherd she got when you moved out. she’d aptly named him trouble. despite his name, trouble was usually a mellow guy, even if he was huge. walking him was just another thing you were doing to try and ignore the thoughts constantly pounding out a beat in your head.

oh, dick would think this is funny! that’s dick’s favorite color, i should buy it! dick and i should go there on our next date!

and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on and-

anyways, you were definitely trying to keep yourself busy.

any time a memory popped up in your brain of him—

laughing at your jokes, holding you close while you fell asleep, kissing your neck while he thrust into you

—you’d empty the dishwasher, paint your nails, (any color but blue) turn on reality tv, read a book, stuff your face, whatever.

anything to stop fucking thinking about him and his stupid blue eyes and his dumb smile.

you’d been been watching the news, sprawled across the couch. just the regular gotham news: don’t use main street, mr. freeze’s ray iced out the pavement. the iceberg lounge had been raided by the police for the third time this month. the justice league defeated yet another extraterrestrial threat to humanity, blah, blah, blah. you weren’t really watching. the news program ended, and the next one started. a gotham gossip show. they were doing a special segment on the wayne family.

of course they fucking were. even your tv was conspiring against you. you had to resist the urge to chuck the remote at it.

you turned it off instead, heading to your room to get ready for a run.

(running for exercise or running from your thoughts?)

your mom had asked you to take trouble right before you’d walked out the door, and so you grabbed him and his leash and headed out. you’d forgotten the bags for his poop, but you didn’t think you would be out that long, so you just kept on going.

you were wearing the leggings dick had bought you, ones he joked should be a specific blue color. you hadn’t understood then, but you more than understood now. it was warmer, and so you just had on an old sports bra on top, and some converse.

you were not the athletic type. that was dick. probably still was. you wouldn’t really know.

you hadn’t talked since it happened, like three or four weeks ago.

time had become a little fuzzy. your mom said you could stay with her as long as you needed, but you were starting to get the itch to move out.

nothing against your mom, it’s just hard to sob really loudly into a pint of ice cream when she’s there.

and she keeps trying to wash the one shirt of dick’s you still have. you know, fully well, how dumb it is, (and a little gross) but you’re still wearing his shirt every night to bed. and maybe it’s all in your head, but it still smells like him. you aren’t ready to wash it. besides, now that you’re sleeping by yourself, you’re pretty sure it’s helping you fall asleep. something that was hard to do the first few nights without your big warm boyfriend next to you in bed.

it probably isn’t good for you, to keep wearing his shirt.

you’d had your hand between your thighs more than once late at night thinking about being enveloped in his scent. your nights were haunted with thoughts of his body over yours, his phantom voice in your ear. calling you angel, asking you if this was heaven, like the last time you’d had sex.

it definitely isn’t good for you.

but neither is life without dick grayson.

you try not to dwell on the fact that dick had given you a sort of non-reason for the breakup. sure, it got lonely sometimes, or you got anxious for your masked boyfriend, so you cried. so what if your patience wore thin after a few too many “i’m sorry, angel, i can’t make it this time”-s.

you were human!

but you’d never, never once complained about his absence or his commitments to his family.

never.

he’d just assumed you were silently suffering and it really irked you if you thought about it for too long. you still weren’t sure if you were mad at him or sad, or whatever. it felt like your brain couldn’t decide on an emotion so you just got twelve at once. but what you did know for sure was that he was 110% worth it to you. you just wish he’d realize that. see that. instead of just the times you were a little emotionally strung out. your ex boyfriend was too willing to sacrifice his own mental health for the sake of yours and you were sick of it. but you didn’t know if you had the courage to say that to him. or even see him, after the way this breakup had hit you.

your friends had managed to get you out of the house, a few times now.

you’d gotten almost too drunk every time, escaping your friends and going outside to get some air. this time, you saw a guy that looked just enough like dick, and it’d all been too much. so you got out of there. you sat yourself down on the curb, looking up at the hazy rooftops. you were always looking up. always.

and since the break up, you’d noticed the vigilantes of your city more often. maybe there was more criminal activity. maybe you were just paying more attention than you used to.

you’d seen spoiler and orphan, pounding the pavement behind you to run after some seedy looking guy holding a briefcase. you think spoiler tried to high five you on the way past, but there was no way. you wrote it off as your memory embellishing things.

you were pretty sure red hood had nodded at you before disappearing down a fire escape on the other side of the building.

your mom had recently gotten a delivery of security cameras for her house. but she hadn’t ordered them. the shipping address had only the address of some warehouse on the dock, the name just, ‘R.R.’ you’d set the cameras up, but you and your mom both were still baffled about it.

and here, sitting on the curb, you were staring at what looked like a dark figure crouched on the rooftop opposite. they’d been there when you’d entered the club, too.

you squinted, trying to make out shoulders and suit colors, when they stood up, and the light bounced off his shiny cowl.

fucking batman?

you shook your head, trying to shake your drunk brain like an etch-a-sketch. there was actually no way.

a smaller figure, one you hadn’t seen behind the shape of batman (!?) pulled a weapon, a gleaming silver sword, and pointed it at you. your head spun. batman (there was no way) shook his head at robin. he sheathed his sword, throwing his hands up in what looked like annoyance. you blinked, and they were gone.

you weren’t really sure if it had happened or not. you’d been trying not to think too hard about the fact that you still hadn’t seen nightwing. you’d really been trying.

so instead, you were walking your mom’s dog.

trouble had, in fact, pooped, and you were frantically looking around for something to pick it up with. gotham was already shitty enough without the addition of, well, literal shit. the streets were busy, but not crowded, and someone down the block whistled for a cab, catching your attention. you turned, and at the same time, trouble jerked your arm, pulling you backwards into someone walking on the sidewalk. the stranger made a choked sound.

“trouble??”

your heart stopped. you held your breath, turning around.

trouble was at attention, looking up at your ex-boyfriend with his head cocked.

dick’s eyes were wide. his hair shorter than you remember. he leaned down to scratch trouble behind the ears, his biceps and shoulder muscles in hard relief. are you dreaming? you didn’t recognize the shirt he had on, but he was wearing your favorite jeans of his, and his matching converse. your mouth felt like a desert.

trouble trails around the two of you, the leash long. he loves your ex-boyfriend, you know he won’t go anywhere.

“did you cut your hair?” you take a step forward. dick does too.

“i-” he clears his throat. “i did. do you like it?” he shifts his eyes, his cheeks bright pink.

you make a show of looking it over. he turns his head so you can see it from all angles. like he always did when he got a haircut.

your chest hurts.

you nod approvingly, flashing him a weak smile.

“it looks really nice. you’re very-” your face heats as you stop yourself. “it looks very handsome.”

that’s an understatement. you would’ve climbed him like a tree the minute he’d come home looking like that. the way his biceps were bulging out of his shirt sleeves could not be good for his circulation. it was great for yours, your heart was beating a mile a minute.

dick smiles down at you, stepping forward again.

“thanks.” he looks down, taking in your outfit. “nice leggings, ang-” he’s cut off when trouble spots a squirrel and darts, barking wildly. the problem is, trouble had been walking his leashed self around you and dick.

you’re now chest to chest with your ex boyfriend in the middle of a sidewalk, tied to him by rope. you vaguely hear trouble whine at the way his collar bit into his neck from the leash pulling taut. you didn’t even have the time to process the fact that he had almost called you angel. which was probably a good thing.

you’re breathing heavily, while dick doesn’t seem to be breathing at all.

he’s put his arms around you on instinct, and you hate the way you feel like you’re home. a shiver runs up your spine at the sudden closeness, and dick peers down at you through half-lids. your mouth dries up again. you suddenly feel indignant.

“you are not allowed to breakup with me and then show up and look at me like that!” you hiss at him.

you would throw up your hands in exasperation if they weren’t basically pinned to dick’s body. a smile breaks across his face, his bright blue eyes telling you everything you need to know. he stares at you, studying you. you wonder if he can feel how hard your heart is beating.

“alfred taught me a new recipe.” he blurts, his hand clutching at your back.

he’s adorable. but you school your face and raise an eyebrow at him.

“..oookay?”

dick blushes, his face sheepish. “i could make it for you, if you wanted.”

“what i want is an apology.” you look him up and down.

your ex boyfriend grimaces, squeezing his eyes shut. “understandable.”

“on your hands and knees. i think this is one of those begging-for-my-forgiveness type situations, don’t you think?”

dick nods, a strand of hair falling across his forehead. his eyes flash.

“you don’t have to worry about getting me on my knees.”

one heartbeat pounds behind your ribs, the other one between your legs. you huff out a weird sort of nervous laugh.

“oh, i’m not joking.” his lips curve up in a smile, one you know very well. he obviously plans to make up on lost time.

you forgot how charming he was. you have to practically force yourself to breathe. you’d do anything to have the real thing over his old t-shirt. you give yourself a mental shake.

he can flirt all he wants, but what about your heart? you look up at him, and his face softens, his pupils huge.

“can you get us untangled?”

dick nods, whistling for trouble. he frees an arm and grabs trouble’s collar, guiding him back around so the leash falls to the sidewalk. you step back, taking a deep breath. you’re cold at the sudden loss of his body heat. it’s a harsh reminder of reality. you grab trouble’s leash, having him sit. you look at your ex boyfriend.

“thanks.” you take another deep breath. “can you promise me something, though?”

he nods, his face serious. “anything. anything at all.”

“promise you won’t break my heart again?” you hold out your pinky finger.

dick coughs, surprised at your words. he looks down, taking a shaky breath. he’s in disbelief, he’s ecstatic, he’s on top of the world, he…has a lot of apologizing to do.

when he looks back up to offer up his own pinky, his eyes are shining. the sight makes your heart melt. you take his finger in yours, beaming up at him.

he gives you a soft smile in return. “i promise.”

you take your hand back, feeling the most hopeful you have in a month.

a breeze picks up, and the whiff you get reminds you of your earlier predicament. you look down. dick looks down too.

shit. literally.

you forgot about the fact that trouble had used the sidewalk as a toilet.

“is that trouble’s?” he asks.

you nod, making a face. “i forgot the poop bags.”

“rookie mistake.” dick shakes his head, smiling. you look him up and down, and then turn, walking back the way you came.

“text me about that recipe!” you lift your hand in a wave.

“but-..uh, the shit?” he calls after you.

“that’s alllll you, baby!” you yell back, practically skipping away. you feel like you’re floating.

2K notes · View notes

presiding · 1 year ago

Note

just saw that there's a monster in the hull update and realized i'd missed three of those........this + the audio are such treats giggling and kicking my feet about it fr. going to leave a comment on the fic itself but in the meantime needed to drop a letter on here to say i love the way you write billie--her loneliness, her thoughtfulness, distrust of yet attraction to emily and everything she represents........not to mention the way she's haunted by daud, the longing for a life she can't fathom and will never have !!! society if everyone gave billie the complexity she deserves. and your banter and prose are stunning as always lord everything abt this fic is so good. bringing wine to you on the deck to drink together about it in spirit and yes pun intended

🙏😭 thank you so so much I don't know what to say! that's amazingly kind of you ♥ its a genuine pleasure to like. double down on themes and nuance and less popular characters and just like. idk. trustfall into the fandom that there's people with taste like you, and you can invite them onto your metaphorical deck for wine and meaningful looks 🍷♥♥♥

re: billie - no one else in the dh universe comes close to whatever she has going on

hiding my thoughts about writing dh2 billie >

there's so much material to her!

i thought i'd never write for dishonored 2 (not derogatory - its my favourite game). its undoubtedly linear & doesn't have the mystery or grit of dh1 IMO.

but i saw lapin post that billie & emily comic, and i saw a few other people i respect mention billie/emily and it had me rotating them until the abjection/emily-monster thing clicked and then it was downhill from there

but there's more to think about - what billie has been doing with herself, how she feels about daud & the whalers at this point in her life, her relationship with sokolov (god.a separate rant), her history in karnaca & dunwall, emily's place in the empire and how that fits into billie's story, her lifelong revenge arc, and comparisons between jessamine & deirdre.

like. when you consider billie's perspective you realise how fucking badass she is for going back to dunwall. she not only did it scared she did it scared for her life. suicidal level flimsy disguise trapped in a tin can with your enemy. etc

PLEASE tell me if you ever decide to post that daud & billie fic you mentioned a while back :O

#asks #corpseprince my beloved <333 #thinkin bout your one-day fic. daud and billie are SO difficult to write #not simply father daughter but like. the suicide pact vibes they have and the all consuming nature of dauds bonds #and there's a strong running tension between them #not to mention neither being the type for feelings #the more 'dishonored fandom friendly' fics im working on i've deprioritised recently #yuri on the way <3 there was a deficit anyway!#mostly excited for brigmore smut #if i may bitch on your lovely post (sorry). if you cbf with that stop reading here #idk. it keeps happening #so i post a chapter. maybe get 2 kudos that week #which is nice and i smile every time im stoked to see readers around #but then one or two days later some unpleasant fucko on tumblr has taken one of the ideas i put in the new chapter of my fic #and turned that into a low quality textpost like it was their idea. it gets a heap of notes #and its always a *highly specific* idea after i posted it. and i know what the fandom is talking about broadly so it sticks out #i dont mind at all when its like mutuals or people who have commented or talked to me then its more like 🤝#like. someone who doesnt appear to have ever interacted with me or the fic #im not trying to flatter myself by saying theres no chance its a coincidence. but its offputting as hell #backhanded signal of success? bestie thats my meta post but you made it worse <3 #so my focus rn is niche-r stuff for smart cool people with taste #THE RAMBLING. *tops up your wineglass if you made it this far*

10 notes · View notes

lokissweater · 6 months ago

Text

“i love you and i love you.” ᡣ𐭩

{yuta okkotsu x f!reader}

summary: yuta okkotsu has been hopelessly in love with you since he was fifteen. you, his muse and his reason to live as you took care of him growing up more than anyone else in his life. in fear of breaking your best friend pact and losing you entirely, yuta swallows his feelings for the sake of keeping you in his life, but he can only take so much.

warnings: college au, friends to best friends to lovers trope, lowkey ooc yuta oops, mentions of underage drinking, hopelessly devoted and lovesick yuta for reader, cursing!!! both reader and yuta cuss lol, lots and lots of fluff, ANGST, afab!reader, use of y/n, pet names, no smut in this one! slight sexual themes, reader is older than yuta by two years.

word count: 8.7k

authors note: YAAALLL i actually poured my heart and soul out into this one so i really hope it reaches your heart and soul as well! it is so so cute and i had so much fun writing it. this is definitely not the end of this au! i plan to write more short stories that take place after this one :) mwah.

————————————————————————

yuta was thirteen years old when he first saw you.

you were a casual friend of his older brother who had invited his entire group of friends over for a thanksgiving feast reunion amongst yourselves. yuta stayed locked in his room for the most part, from time to time lazily making his way down the halls and through the kitchen where you all sat to get a glass of water for himself, silently savoring at the food on the table.

eventually you had picked up on his lame attempts of coming into the kitchen for random excuses, concluding that he just wanted to gawk at the food and maybe score a bite or two of the pumpkin pie drenched in whipped cream, sitting pretty and proud in the middle of the table.

but after various unsuccessful attempts and various defeated stomps down the hall and back to his room after every shoo from his brother, he knew he wasn’t going to get even a lick. at the end of the night when the group settled down and many began to take their leave, yuta made his way back down one more time in search of any lucky scraps left behind.

but what he found instead was you, standing in the kitchen with a white porcelain plate in your hands, a slice of pumpkin pie drenched in whipped cream sitting pretty in the middle.

“for you,” you had said calmly, plate outstretched, beckoning him to take it. “i saw you come down a few times looking at it, and i think whoever brought it is taking the rest of it back home, so here.”

yuta had never spoken to a girl before, much less a fifteen year old one with the sweetest smile he had ever seen in his life on her face, but he timidly and awkwardly took the smooth plate from your offering hands, and muttered a squeaky thank you before stumbling down the hall and slamming his bedroom door shut.

from then on, yuta looked forward to the next time his brother would have his friends over, nagging at him constantly with questions of when, and even going as far as to straight up planning the hangouts himself (the location of all of them being at their house of course), but his brother would only shove him out of his room and lock the door shut.

luckily for yuta his wish was granted, and his curious eyes saw you around a lot more often than not, and you gradually became a close friend of yuta’s brother instead of just casual one. every time you came over to his house, you always greeted him with the biggest smile on your face before going into his brother’s room with the rest of the group. and over time, your greetings to yuta went from sweet smiles, to pats on the head, to ruffling up his hair occasionally, and to his personal favorite, the side hug.

you always were around in yuta’s growing life and always made sure he had gotten something to eat that day, or if he had a ride to soccer practice, or if his phone had enough battery to last him through his tutoring sessions, or even if he had someone going to watch his soccer games in the mornings (which was never).

yuta was fifteen when he realized he liked you.

“so no one is going?” you asked sharply, “again?”

yuta shrugged. “its at eight o’ clock in the morning. i don’t expect anyone to, not even you-“

“well i’m going,” you said simply, putting the rest of your textbooks away in your locker and slamming it shut. “geez not even your brother goes to your games? i’m gonna yell at him later.”

“it’s fine.” yuta shook his head and gave you a small smile, his insides twisting and contorting with an overwhelming boy crush for you. “a lot of my teammates parents don’t go either, usually only to the first two of the season.”

but not you. you went every single time, even going as far as dragging his brother with you so he could have family there to watch him play. yuta always made sure to turn and raise a hand to you from across the field, waving it side to side before getting back in the game, his heart thumping wildly in his chest with an insane sense of adrenaline to do good on the field and show off— because you were watching.

yuta was still fifteen when he realized you liked his brother.

firstly, he felt utterly stupid for not picking up on it before. yuta was always too busy staring at you and memorizing every inch and detail of your face to realize that you were looking at his brother the same way yuta looked at you. he was too busy running around in soccer fields and eating the ham sandwiches you always made for him after practices to realize how red your face would get when you sat next to his brother during his games, or when you gave him sandwiches. yuta was too busy drooling over you in his mind that sometimes you wouldn’t even notice him waving at you from across the field like he always did, your eyes trained on his brother instead, that sweet smile he was all too familiar with shining for someone else.

it wasn’t fair. it wasn’t fair at all. yuta felt like his brother always got everything and he always ended up with scraps. yuta never got a friend group like his, or a stellar reputation in a sport like he did, or people at his beck and call everywhere he went, or nominations for pointless shit like homecoming king.

but yuta didn’t give a flying fuck about any of that. he didn’t want any of that. he wanted you. just you.

but he couldn’t have you.

yuta was sixteen when he realized he was in love with you.

he had been for a while actually, and he knew it, but the thought alone of you liking his stupid brother only fueled the fire of denial to save himself from getting hurt more than he already was.

but it was absolutely pouring rain that day, his tutoring session having been cancelled last minute due to the weather, and because of this he had no ride home and no umbrella to even attempt at walking home, not that he could anyways seeing as it would take him thirty minutes to do so. yuta absolutely could not take that chance. he had his laptop in his backpack with all of his school work, and worst of all, his final project that he had been working on since the beginning of the school year, a precious green portfolio filled with notes worth more than gold to him.

yuta grumbled as he scuffed his feet against the concrete at the front of his school under a rooftop, lips pressed into a thin line in annoyance. his parents were at work, there was no way they could just drop everything and go to him (not that they would anyways), and his brother was too busy hanging out with you doing god knows what at god knows where— so even calling you was out of the picture.

at the mere thought of you hanging out with his brother, he sighed softly, sadly, and slumped down on a blue bench with his cold hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket, eyes trained to the ground.

heavy pit pats of rain smacked against the ground as he sat there in thought, the sounds of cars zooming down the wet streets as the only source of life around besides himself, seeing as it was already late in the day and everybody else had gone home. without him even noticing, the front doors beside him creaked open as he sat there grumbling.

“yuta?”

his head snapped up upon hearing your pretty voice call out to him, his eyes wide as he saw you standing there with an umbrella.

“what are you doing here?” he asked softly, standing up. yuta looked at you then and noticed your eyes were red and tired, and a shock of worry shot up his spine.

“i was-”

“are you okay?” he asked quickly. “your eyes are red.”

“oh really?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes with your palm, waving him off. “it’s nothing, i didn’t even notice.”

he pursed his lips, concern written all over his face as he took in your defeated expression, but before he could press any further, you spoke again.

“why aren’t you in tutoring?”

“oh they cancelled last minute,” he stuffed his hands further into his jacket and looked to the side. “i don’t have a ride home now because of it, and i can’t even walk home because it’s raining hard as fuck and i have my laptop in my backpack.”

you hummed in understanding, and even though it looked like the worst possible thing ever just happened to you, you gave him that same sweet smile he craved every time he saw you. “let’s walk to your house together. i have an umbrella we can try and fit under.”

he looked at you incredulously. “no no! it’s okay! you live down the street i don’t want to make you walk thirty minutes in the rain with me and thirty back-”

“it’s okay!” you laughed. “i would never leave you here by yourself yu, you know that.”

oh how he loved when you called him that.

his shoulders slowly relaxed, a wobbly cute smile spreading across his face, his cheeks a fuzzy pink. “okay.”

you walked together in a comfortable silence, your little umbrella just barely covering the both of you and yuta’s cheeks were still an intense pinky shade due to the close proximity, his steamy breath basically fanning the side of your ear as he huddled close to you.

after a few minutes spent walking on the sidewalk, yuta spoke up again.

“why are your eyes red?”

you immediately froze, but relaxed quickly.

“just tired s’all,” you responded weakly, but the little wobbling of your bottom lip told him otherwise.

yuta slowly lifted his hand and reached out, placing it softly on top of yours and clenching over the stem of the umbrella. the action caused you both to stop walking, your curious eyes snapping to his.

his palm felt like it was on absolute fire at the feeling of your soft hand under his, yuta’s breath trembling as he breathed out.

he swallowed. “can you please tell me why.”

your eyes flooded with tears then, and you shut them tightly as you dropped your forehead solemnly to rest against his shoulder, your frame shaking with quiet sobs escaping your lips.

yuta’s eyes softened and he quickly took the umbrella from you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders in a tight hug. his heart thumped so hard against his chest that he could hear it ringing through his ears.

he patted the back of your head gently. “what happened? what’s going on?”

you shook your head against his chest.

“y/n..” he sighed worriedly, running a soothing hand over your shaking back now.

“i have a crush on your brother,” you sobbed.

he knew. god he knew. but hearing you say it out loud broke his heart ten times more than it did when he found out on his own.

yuta slightly pulled back, bending his knees a little to look at you at eye level, his hand on your shoulder.

“i know.”

your eyebrows furrowed, more silent tears spilling from your eyes. “you know?”

yuta nodded, smiling sadly at you as he wiped your tears with his thumb, your eyes closing as he did so. “i spend almost every second of my life with you, of course i know. i noticed.”

you sniffed.

“weren’t you just with him now?” he asked.

your eyes shut tightly again, eyebrows contorted in pain as you nodded. “i confessed to him. i wanted to tell him before we graduated next month.”

you lifted your hands and covered your face, sobbing into them. “i’ve loved him since middle school.”

loved?

yuta’s shoulders slumped as he stared straight ahead, feeling like he wanted to crawl into a deep dark hole and stay there.

“he-“ you hiccuped. “he rejected me.”

his head snapped down immediately, eyebrows furrowing in a mix of disbelief and anger. “huh? he rejected you?”

you nodded, dropping your hands from your eyes and burying your head in his chest.

“why? what did he say?”

“he said he didn’t feel the same way—” you stopped for a moment to even out your breaths. “and that he was sorry.”

yuta scoffed, shaking his head. “what a big fucking loser.”

you snorted at that, and he looked down at you fondly, relieved you laughed.

“he… he thanked me for everything that i’ve done for your family though, especially you.”

he stayed silent.

“he said he was thankful that i was like another sibling for you, and that i took care of you.”

another sibling?

yuta didn’t say anything, that phrase like a slash through his heart while he still thought about how much of a fucking idiot he was to reject you. you, out of anyone deserved to get everything you wanted. you were selfless, incredibly sweet, the most gorgeous human being to ever walk this earth, and you had done so much for everyone that you neglected your own needs all of the time.

how could he not love you back? how could his brother not see the angel in his life that loved him, that sentiment alone an absolute privilege to have? something he would kill for?

yuta knew he shouldn’t make this about himself. he knew you were absolutely hurting and heartbroken, but he just had to know. it was eating him alive inside and out and over and over again as he kept thinking about it.

“is that how you see me?”

“hu-huh?” you hiccuped, picking your head up from his chest to look at him.

“as another sibling. is that how you see me?”

you blinked up at him, your eyes trailing over his furrowed eyebrows and worried gaze, and you hesitated for a moment, not knowing exactly why.

but you nodded, slowly. “you’re my best friend, yu. you’re not just anyone to me i care a lot about you. more than most people in my life.”

for a moment, yuta looked at you blankly, his mind unable to properly register your words. he didn’t know whether he wanted to cry, call up his brother and yell at him, kiss you, or run away.

a part of him knew that too, that you only saw him as a sibling. but like everything else in his life, he buried it down and chose to pretend like it didn’t exist for the sake of his heart.

but regardless of you not returning his feelings, he would rather be something to you than nothing at all. he would rather make some type of difference in your life and have a special spot, than be an absolute nobody to you.

so he smiled. he smiled with soft sad eyes and nodded, pulling you back in and resting his cheek against the top of your head. “you’re my best friend too.”

yuta didn’t see you around much at his house after that, which he understood.

but you still texted yuta everyday and hung out with him sometimes at school, and you still went to his games and practices and made him ham sandwiches after, and you still gave him that sweet smile he loved so so much.

but he never missed how sad you got around his brother, even at the mere mention of him. he never missed how your eyes stayed glued to the ground or had a far off look to them, your arms wrapped around yourself with a safe distance between you both.

when you graduated high school, yuta was a brat the entire ceremony. he was pissed. so pissed that you were two years older than him and that he wasn’t going to see your pretty self around school anymore, which was pretty much the only reason he tolerated it in the first place.

but when your graduating class threw their caps up into the air and his family went down to congratulate his brother, yuta made a beeline for you instead.

and behind that scowl on his face that he had the entire day, his eyes were glossy.

yuta never cried.

when you noticed, your shoulders instantly dropped and you ran to his open arms, practically throwing yourself on him. “yuuu! don’t cry for me!”

“who said i’m crying?” yuta grumbled into your shoulder.

you pulled back and smiled at him, “i’m gonna miss you the most.”

yuta smiled, but then faltered, and a sliver of fear shot up his spine. was this the last time he was going to see you? was this the start of you both slowly distancing, and then ultimately falling apart? were you still going to call him and text him everyday?

as if you could sense his fear, you quickly shook your head. “you’re literally stuck with me for life. you will never find another best friend to replace me, you got it?”

you waved your little index finger at him sternly, and yuta laughed. “i got it.”

yuta was nineteen when he almost kissed you.

after you graduated high school, luckily you went to a college that was only about a thirty minute drive from his place. you were still in yuta’s life, if not way more than it was before, which he thanked his lucky stars for. you went from being a best friend of his brothers, to being only his best friend, as you and his brother didn’t really talk anymore after high school.

and to that, yuta was happy.

and when he graduated high school, you of course were there, crying and pinching his cheeks and hugging him so tight his back cracked a little bit.

he didn’t go to the same college you did (although he definitely tried but didn’t get in) and went to one that was about forty five minutes away from home, one he commuted to everyday like you did for yours.

you both got so much closer that you obliviously acted like a couple, when you weren’t. yuta would pick you up from class and drive you to lunch, pay for all of your meals and anything you practically wanted despite you fighting him every time on it. he would kiss your forehead and your cheek and throw his arm around your shoulder when you walked, he would call you baby and compliment you every single day, and he would sleep over at your house almost all of the time, your head on his chest and his arm wrapped around your torso.

he knew best friends weren’t really supposed to act like this, but did you? you both had grown so accustomed to it that it wasn’t a weird thing for you both, but the constant questions from your mutual friends or even each others parents was a dead giveaway that it in fact, was not how best friends were supposed to act.

but neither of you seemed to care.

“stop moving yu!” you whispered harshly as you applied an aloe vera mud mask to his face. yuta snickered, dodging your fingers every time they came close to applying the mask, with the only reason he was doing it being because it made you laugh.

you were both sat on your fluffy pink rug in the middle of your room in your pajamas, surrounded by all of your skincare essentials and even the fancy products you only pulled out on special occasions. it was one in the morning at this point and you both were still up, trying to keep your laughter to a minimum in attempts at not waking up your parents downstairs.

“baby this stuff smells kind of funky,” he commented as you applied some to his cheek.

“the funkier the better,” you responded, focused. “kind of smells like you.”

he pinched your side and you giggled, flinching away. “i’m kidding! i’m almost done, don’t move.”

yuta listened and stayed still, watching your concentrated pretty face that was practically inches away from his as you applied the mask to the rest of his face, his poor heart almost giving out.

once you were done, you smiled triumphantly and wiped your fingers with a warm damp towel. “all done!”

yuta smiled fondly at you and kissed your cheek. “thanks. is this what you put on every night?”

you shook your head, “not every night, only when i want my skin to look extra good for special occasions.”

“which is..?”

“it’s usually when you invite me over to your family events or when we eat dinner at that one really nice place by your school.”

yuta stopped at that and he felt his heart clench at your words. he didn’t know why and he usually didn’t let it, but his mind was making him believe that maybe…

no.

he relaxed again, humming in acknowledgement. you picked up a circular pink little tub compartment thing and unscrewed the cap, dipping your ring finger in the shimmery product.

“what’s that?” he asked softly, nodding his head to it.

“it’s my lip scrub!” you responded enthusiastically, lifting your ring finger and scooting closer to him. his eyes looked straight at you as you slid your finger over his lips. “it has kind of like a rough texture, it’s supposed to exfoliate your lips and make them really soft.”

his cheeks slowly turned pink, his eyes trailing down to your lips as you sat back, finished.

“here— put some on me now so you can feel what i’m talking about,” you handed him the little tub and he dipped his index finger in, swallowing the lump in his throat.

he timidly lifted his hand and pressed his finger to your waiting perfect lips, softly and gently running the product on your bottom lip before going to the top, his eyes mesmerized and nearly drooling.

yuta was practically tracing you, wanting to burn forever the shape of your mouth into his brain to remember for the rest of his life, wanting nothing more than to press his lips on yours.

but he inhaled sharply and quickly dropped his hand. “i’m finished.”

you pressed your lips together and spread the product around, “did you feel it?”

he shakily nodded, wiping his finger on the warm damp towel before handing it over for you to do the same.

you held up a corner of the towel to his lips and gently wiped the scrub away, “and now they’re soft.”

you passed the towel back over to him, and you sat back, eagerly waiting for him to do the same.

yuta swallowed again and mimicked you, except he was much slower, much more gentle over your plush lips as he subconsciously leaned closer to you that by the time he was done, his nose almost bumped with yours.

with eyes half lidded, he stared at your lips in a daze, licking his bottom lip slightly as you looked at him with wide eyes. he wanted to, so badly, to just grab your face and press your lips together, to pour the love he’s had for you for the past four years out and cherish you with everything that he has.

“yu?” you spoke softly, your voice barely above a whisper, your breath fanning against his lips.

his eyes immediately snapped to yours and he flinched back like a deer in headlights. “so— so when do i take this off?” he pointed to his face. “the mud mask.. when does it come off?”

you looked at him curiously, your eyebrows slightly pinched together as you tried to make sense of what was happening, if anything even really happened.

“almost..” you responded, unfocused. “in about five minutes.”

yuta quickly nodded and pressed his lips into a thin line, his hands clenched so hard into tight fists that his knuckles turned white.

he couldn’t look you in the eye. what the fuck was he doing? he was going to scare you away if he kept doing things like this, if he kept almost slipping up and doing something that could jeopardize your friendship with him.

your trust.

you nudged his shoulder with your finger, and he finally looked at you.

“is the face mask bothering you that much?” you said with a silly smile, and yuta physically deflated, affection pumping through his system.

“no baby,” he shook his head. “i like it! i think i should keep it on for the rest of the night and go to class with it tomorrow morning.”

you snorted and shook your head, “don’t be mean.”

he raised his hands up frantically, “i’m not! you think everybody has the privilege of getting a free facial by their pretty best friend?” he held up his index finger and wiggled it side to side. “i don’t think so.”

you giggled, so much, and grabbed the warm damp towel again, scooting closer to him by your knees. you began wiping away the mask on his face, being careful of not going too rough in fear of accidentally irritating and hurting him. yuta held you by the hips, assisting in keeping your balance and rubbing little circles into your stomach with his thumbs.

your cheeks went a little pink after a bit.

as the rest of the night went on, and when you both finally settled into bed facing each other— his hand on the side of your hip, you softly traced the rather dark bags under his eyes and frowned.

“you need to get more sleep, yu. i think you’ve had these bags since you were fifteen.”

“it’s because i always grind so i can buy you a big white house with a wiener dog and a picket fence.”

you laughed a little too loud and slapped a hand over your mouth, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his as your shoulders shook. when you settled down, you removed your hand and smiled sweetly.

“only if the house comes with you.”

yuta’s breath hitched, and his eyes searched yours desperately, for any indication that maybe, just maybe, you…

no.

“what… you want me as a roommate?”

you playfully rolled your eyes and gently shoved his shoulder.

yuta was twenty years old when he confessed to you.

it was also the first big fight you guys ever had in your entire years of knowing each other.

your relationship stayed the same, two peas in a little pod through college that never seemed to go to one place without the other, so much so that when you did, people would often ask where the other half was. he loved it. he loved you so much, and he found it harder and harder and more heart breaking for him as the years went by watching you not be his in any way shape or form.

every time he visited your campus or went with you to your college parties, he noticed the lurking eyes it seemed like every guy had on you everywhere you went, and it agitated yuta more than anything else. he was still a stubborn brat, and instead of doing something about it and maybe telling you how he feels, he just endures the pain and scowls at their glances, leading you through crowds by the hand or by the small of your back.

he never really indulged in the traditional college experience like you did, and never ever talked to any other girl besides you. he never wanted to or had any interest in doing so, regardless of you returning his feelings or not. you also never really talked to any other guy besides yuta or made any mention of your dating life, people mostly assuming you both were.

yuta weaved through the crowd, trying to spot a place for the both of you to sit while you went to get drinks from the kitchen. upon finally breaking free from the pile of dancing sweaty bodies, he recognized one of your girl friends and a couple of others sitting on a long lounge sofa, her eyes perking up.

“y/n’s boyfriend! you came?”

he stopped a bit, then smiled wide.

“yeah! she’s in the kitchen now by the way, she’ll be over here in a second.”

and when you did come over, already a bit tipsy from the line of shots you got pulled into while getting drinks, you walked over to where yuta sat while greeting your friends, handing him a red solo cup. and instead of sitting in the spot yuta had saved for you right beside him, you settled neatly on his lap.

his eyes nearly bulged out of their eye sockets as you swung an arm around his shoulders for support and made yourself comfortable. you had never done something like this, and he swallowed the huge lump in his throat as trembling hands settled around your waist and over your lap. his arm tingled with the feeling of your thighs underneath, afraid to put his hands anywhere near them in fear of making you uncomfortable or accidentally grabbing your face and making out with you.

but the chance of that happening wasn’t anywhere near impossible, as he was already tipsy by his drink and his hand was already gently caressing over the skin of your soft plush thighs.

best friends don’t do things like this.

and he did not give a single fuck.

your boobs were practically shoved up in his face, his pinky cheeks absolutely blazing as his eyes darted to every corner of the house and anywhere else that wasn’t your tits, his lips itching to feel, to taste.

the night progressed and the both of you got increasingly more and more drunk, clinging on to each other on the couch or stumbling through the house, laughing when one of you would trip and almost face plant on the hardwood floors, leaning on to each other for support.

“your boyfriend almost knocked over the tub of tropical mix in the kitchen!” your girl friend yelled over the loud booming music, laughing.

yuta expected you to correct her, but you didn’t, and only laughed along with her.

“no it wasn’t him! it was me,” you giggled drunkenly, your arms around his neck as his were tight around your waist, your group standing off to the side of the dance floor. “he had to grab me and pull me from it!”

and that’s how it often was, just you and him. you taking care of him and him taking care of you in every way possible, trying to pay you back for all of the years you spent being there for him when he was younger and way more, simply because he wanted to.

and on a night where yuta was studying for finals in his room, his brother that was visiting from college came in and sat down on the edge of his bed.

“you studying?” he asked.

yuta nodded, not bothering to take his eyes away from his notebook, still scribbling down his notes. he never really had the best relationship with his brother, much less after what had happened with you getting rejected by him.

his brother took a deep breath through his nose and nodded. “i um… are you still friends with y/n?”

that caught his attention, and yuta’s eyes lifted from his notes to look at him. “yes? i’m with her like, most of the time. if you haven’t noticed.”

“no i have,” his brother murmured. “how is she?”

yuta took a second to respond. “she’s good.”

“that’s good that’s good. does she um- does she still have the same number?”

yuta put down his pencil and leaned back against his desk chair. “why?”

“i wanted to just catch up with her is all,” he shrugged. “i saw her when you brought her here for mom’s birthday and i hadn’t seen her since graduation.”

“catch up with her?” yuta mumbled. “since when do you give a shit about y/n?”

his brother scoffed. “i always have, yuta.”

“didn’t seem like it when you rejected her and started dating one of her close friends like the next day.”

his brother didn’t say anything, and yuta rolled his eyes at the lack of response, picking his pencil back up to continue his work.

“i still have her on social media and see what she’s up to… she posts you a lot. are you guys like— a thing?”

yuta bit the inside of his cheek. “no.”

his brother visibly relaxed for whatever reason and nodded. “i just want to talk to her again, is all. maybe buy her dinner—”

yuta pushed his textbook away, dropped his pencil again and spun around, looking at him with narrowed eyes. “fuck no.”

his brother scoffed. “i’m not asking for permission—”

“fuck no.”

“yuta i’m your brother i literally took you to school everyday and took care of you—”

“y/n did that.” yuta cut him off. “y/n gave me rides to school when i didn’t have my license and bought me food when i didn’t have a job. she also came to every single one of my games regardless of the weather and helped me with my homework when i was too stupid to figure it out on my own, everything you should’ve done.”

“that’s not true—”

“yes it is.” yuta crossed his arms in annoyance. “she didn’t have to do any of that. she never had to take care of me the way that she did but she did it anyways. she took on your role because you were too busy being a dingus doing god knows what and she knew that. y/n has done more for me than you’ve ever done in your entire twenty two years of living.”

his brother sat there in silence, yuta’s heavy angry breathing being the only thing heard in the room.

“okay well—” his brother stood from his bed and walked over to the door. “i’m just going to text her—”

“why the fuck are you gonna meddle into her life now? what… are you bored? are you not satisfied with whatever fucking girl you find up there at school?” yuta threw his arms up in irritation, his blood beginning to boil. “you treated her like shit. like absolute dog shit when you ignored her and avoided her for months after she confessed to you. do you understand how disrespectful that is?”

“whatever man it was high school—”

“and what, that gives you a pass to treat her like that? when that happened i was sixteen picking up the pieces you shit all over at your grown age—”

“i’m leaving.”

and with that, his brother walked out and slammed the door shut, and yuta was left absolutely red. red with anger he had never felt before in his life as he grabbed his notebook and chucked it across the room. he hated how casual he spoke of you, like you were just another girl he was going to try and get to know and fuck— to then leave without another word like his brother’s been doing his whole fucking life to girls. but not to you, it couldn’t happen to you.

and it was like yuta was going through the five stages of grief because then he was afraid. what if you let his brother back into your life? what if you fell for him again? you’d done it before the chances were not zero of you doing it again.

yuta didn’t want to lose you. he would rather gauge his eyes out and eat them for breakfast.

with that, yuta stumbled through his room putting on his shoes and snatching his car keys from his night stand, running down the hall and slamming the front door shut before getting in his car.

the drive was only about fifteen minutes to your house, and he felt so bad that it was nearly two in the morning and he was most likely going to wake you up, but he couldn’t stand it. he was going absolutely crazy, everything in him gnawing and eating him alive, his brother having pushed every single button in his body and more.

his tires screeched as he pulled into your driveway, thankful that your parents were away on a getaway trip as he slammed his car door shut and made his way up to your front door. yuta rang your doorbell twice before you finally opened it.

slowly, you peeked your tired eye through the slit, and your body immediately relaxed at the sight of him. “oh my god yuta, you scared the absolute shit out of—”

you stopped, your face falling at his livid expression and the way his chest heaved erratically. “yu? are you okay? what’s going on—”

but yuta only pushed passed you and trudged up your stairs without another word. dumbstruck, you closed your front door with a click and locked it, following him up the stairs and into your room.

“what’s wrong?”

“my brother is visiting from college.” he mumbled, sitting stiff on your desk chair. you moved to stand in front of him.

“…you mentioned that yeah—”

“and he… he told me that he wants to reach out to you.”

your eyebrows furrowed, taken aback. “me? for what?”

“he says he wants to catch up with you, see how you’re doing. be friends again i guess.”

yuta’s eyes remained stuck to the floor like glue, and you remained silent as you processed his words, confused out of your mind.

“i mean… i mean i guess? i guess that’s fine—”

his head snapped up, “that’s fine?”

you shrugged, “yes? i don’t see the big deal i don’t—”

“baby—” he shook his head in disbelief. “he absolutely broke you and treated you like nothing in high school, and you’re fine letting him back into your life? great.”

you narrowed your eyes at him. “why are you being like that? he just wants to be friends again and that’s fine with me—”

yuta scoffed. “he doesn’t deserve it! he doesn’t deserve you—”

“yuta, whatever happened between your brother and i was years ago! i’m over it! this isn’t a big fucking deal!”

you hated fighting with him, god how much you hated it, and the way that he looked at you now was making you absolutely sick.

“so you’re just gonna be friends with him again?” he shrugged, looking at you with narrowed eyes.

“yeah?”

“you’re fucking stupid,” he spat, getting up from your desk chair and walking over to the door, reaching for your doorknob.

you instantly grabbed his shoulder and spun him around to face you. “what the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“what’s wrong with me?!” he raised his voice, jabbing a finger to his chest. “what’s wrong with you! do you not remember how bad you got when he did what he did?! do you really think i would stand here okay with you rekindling your little love for my brother?”

you scoffed, “my little love?!”

and before you knew it, angry tears were streaming down your face. you hated the way he was talking to you, and you didn’t know how your argument escalated so quickly and so drastically as you wiped your cheeks furiously.

and at the sight of you crying, yuta faltered slightly, his eyes softening.

“why do you think i still love him? i don’t! i haven’t since he rejected me!—”

“who says you won’t start again?” he spoke lowly, arms crossed over his chest. “my brother never had to lift a fucking finger for you to be head over heels for him. you don’t give a shit about yourself and you’re willing to throw yourself at him again—”

“shut up.” you spat, sobs raking through your body. “the fact that you’re stuffing a bunch of fucking words into my mouth and assuming i’m going to jump into your brothers arms is bullshit.”

“i—”

“is this how low you think of me?”

“no baby i don’t—”

“yes you clearly do because everything that’s come out of your mouth—”

“no! no i’m sorry i don’t—”

“then why—”

yuta shoved his hands into his hair exasperated, “because i love you!”

he let his arms fall limp, his eyes glossy and red with the most gut wrenching look on his face that read pure exhaustion. you had never seen him so torn.

“i love you and i love you and i have since since i was fifteen,” his voice shook with each word, hands trembling at his sides. “more than a best friend, more than anything in this world, and i never saw you like another sibling like you did for me.”

“fi.. fifteen?” you spoke so softly he almost didn’t hear you.

he nodded sadly, silent tears slipping down his cheeks and you automatically reached up, softly wiping them away with your thumbs as he closed his eyes, much like how yuta did when you got your heart broken by his brother on that rainy day.

yuta never cried.

“i swallowed it. you loved my brother and i swallowed it. i didn’t give a shit if you only saw me as a sibling because i would rather make some type of mark in your life and be in it than not have you at all. but i can’t take it anymore.”

he let out a sob, and he instantly shoved his face in the crook of his arm in embarrassment.

“yu…”

“you mean absolutely everything to me baby,” his voice was muffled a bit by his elbow, and after roughly wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his sweater, he dropped his arm to look at you again. “i would do absolutely a-anything for you. you’re precious to me and the prettiest girl i have ever laid my eyes on and will ever lay my eyes on.”

he hiccuped and crossed his arms over his chest, staring up at your ceiling. “but i know you don’t love me like i love you. i’ve known for years and i just can’t bring myself to let you go. it’s so bad that i would rather you break my heart over and over again than let you go for the sake of my wellbeing and watch you walk out of my life—”

“yuta, can you please look at me?”

“i— i can’t,” he shook his head as his voice trembled, tears slipping from the sides of his eyes as he continued to stare at your ceiling. “i can’t do it—”

you slowly reached out and cupped his wet cheeks in the palm of your hands, tilting his face down gently to look at you, your eyes filled with remorse at the defeated look on his face.

“why didn’t you tell me?” you asked softly. “why didn’t you tell you were hurting so much?”

he shook his head slowly in your hands. “it’s not fair to you. i didn’t want to put you in a difficult position—”

“what difficult position, yu?” you spoke so gently, so sweetly to him that he almost fell to his knees. “how could you have kept this in for five years? i can’t even imagine—” you hiccuped, “i hate that you were hurting because of me-“

your voice began to contort again into sobs, and he quickly shook his head. “no baby no, it was not because of you, you did nothing wrong. you did the exact opposite.”

you wiped more of his tears with your fingers as he spoke, listening intently.

“no one gave a shit about me the way you did. not even my own parents, and not even my stupid brother that pretended like i practically didn’t exist. you were the only one that was there and you didn’t have to be. you could’ve easily ditched me at any given point and you never did, and i can’t thank you enough for giving me a reason to keep going.”

he wiped his eyes. “and that’s why i fell in love with you so hard because you were so selfless and sweet and i love your smile. i don’t think i could ever make up for everything you’ve done—”

“but you have!—” you interjected, but yuta only shook his head.

“no i haven’t. i’m a stubborn asshole who just said a bunch of shit five minutes ago that i didn’t mean and i only hurt you and i never wanted that—”

“yuta.” you spoke firmly. “you’ve literally done more for me than anyone else in my entire life and i hate that you can’t see that or give yourself credit. you were there for me when i went absolutely insane after your brother rejected me even though you loved me then. you put your own feelings aside to take care of me baby..”

you softly took his hands and led him to sit with you on the bed, wiping his wet cheeks with your sleeve.

“do you not remember when even though you didn’t have a job, any chance you got money you would spend it on me instead of yourself?” you laughed softly. “the minute you got your license you drove me anywhere i wanted… and even to little things like the store because you said you didn’t want me to spend gas money.”

yuta slightly smiled.

“you never ditched me either, when there was every opportunity you could’ve. you always make sure i eat and get enough sleep… and you make me so happy yu, i wish you could see how much i miss you when you’re not around.”

he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and leaned in, softly planting a kiss to your cheek. you smiled warmly.

“who told you i didn’t love you back?”

yuta froze. “you did?”

“when?”

“the day my brother rejected you?” he cocked his head to the side. “i had asked you if you saw me as another sibling and you said yes.”

you threw your head back and moaned, “oh my god yu, of course in that moment because i was stupid and into your brother and i had just gotten rejected!”

you deflated and smiled at him warmly then, your eyes shining with emotions he didn’t allow himself to believe were there. for five years, yuta forced himself to believe you could never return his feelings as a form of protection, and now there was a huge wall in his brain that was itching to come down.

you scooted closer to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, your foreheads touching. “ask me again.”

“hm?” he was dazed, wide eyes staring into yours.

“ask me that question again,” you spoke softly. “the one from that day.”

yuta swallowed thickly, his breathing shaky through his nose, reiterating the phrase he played through his head like a broken record since it happened.

“as another sibling…” he murmured. “is that how you see me?”

you shook your head gently against his forehead, “no… to me—” you leaned back slightly and tilted your head to the side. “you look like the man i’ve been in love with for the past three years.”

silence. nothing.

and then, his eyes welled with tears as he tackled you down and just cried. he cried and he cried into your neck and shook like a little leaf, you holding him so unbelievably tight as your bottom lip wobbled. yuta’s arms were snaked around you as he held you with just as much force if not more.

half a decade. half a decade yuta spent hopelessly lovesick for you that your words burned over his entire body like a fever, his mind reeling and hazy. he held on to you so fucking tight and refused to let go of you, in fear that this was all just some horrendous sick dream and he was going to wake up alone in his bed without you.

you placed a hand on the back of his head as you hugged him, “i love you so much yuta that sometimes i feel like im going nuts.” you laughed softly. “it was always you… it’s been you that’s why i said earlier that i didn’t care if your brother wanted to be friends again, because i love you and i don’t give a shit about him and i’m sorry i made you upset—”

“no,” he lifted his head from the crook of your neck and looked at you, his cheeks flushed with dried up tears and red eyes. “that was just me being an absolute dick and scared of re-living high school all over again. i took that out on you and that wasn’t fair at all, baby. i’m sorry.”

you carded your fingers through his hair. “we both have things to be sorry about, and a lot of years to make up for.”

and finally, yuta grinned so big that his cheeks hurt.

“can i—“ he exhaled shakily. “can i kiss you?”

“please.”

and he smashed his lips against yours, greedily kissing you with so much desperation as he lip locked with you, his hands squeezing and roaming your body. the sound of your lips smacking was loud, and his kisses were so needy and sloppy against your soft plush lips that you squeaked at the intensity. you felt him grin again at your noise and he pulled away from you.

“i’ve wanted this for so long…” he breathed out, his breath fanning against your face as you tried to recover from what was probably the best kiss of your life. you nodded frantically, too dazed and caught up in the thought of his mouth on yours to respond with sentences that made sense.

he chuckled cutely at this, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “i love you and i love you.”

and since then, it was like the final wall had finally crumbled down, and yuta began to live like he was supposed to, like he was meant to, with you. his days of yearning and silent torment were over, and most of the time it still felt like a dream whenever he was by your side.

things stayed relatively the same between you two, as you now acknowledge how much of a couple you both actually were acting prior to yuta’s confession. the only major difference now though, was that yuta earned the privilege to call you his and give you sweet kisses as he picked you up from class, or when you make and hand him those ham sandwiches you always do just for him, only this time adorned with a honeyed kiss of your own.

sitting on his living room couch now, your head resting on his lap as a random horror movie played in the background, yuta’s fingers gently brushed over the features of your face as you stared at the tv, his eyes stuck to you like sticky lovesick glue.

you turned your head to look at him after a bit. “why don’t you start playing soccer again?” you hummed. “is there a team at your school?”

yuta nodded, “there is baby.”

“why don’t you try out?” you smiled sweetly at him, and his heart ached. “i always loved watching you play. i miss it.”

“okay,” he tapped your nose. “just for you.”

you rolled your eyes playfully. “and i’ll start dragging your brother with me again.”

yuta’s eyes flung open as his jaw dropped, and you snorted, giggling uncontrollably as he tickled and pinched at your sides. “i’m just kidding! i’m kidding! i’d rather die.”

he let out a boyish laugh, his eyes sparkling as he looked down at you. “as much as i hate him, i can’t thank him enough for being a stupid dingus.”

you quirked an eyebrow, “thank him? why?”

yuta gently and softly pinched one of your cheeks as he smiled at you, and it was then that you noticed the bags under his eyes were nearly gone. he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips, moving some of your hair away from your face after he did so.

“because he brought you to me.”

and you smiled, that same radiant sweet smile that made him fall in love with you in the first place, as you reached up and ran a tender finger under where his eye bags once stood, your voice light and airy as you spoke—

“i love you and i love you, yuta.”

5K notes · View notes

swordgrace · 7 months ago

Text

𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅𝐒𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃, 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃.

⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍┆ cregan stark x fem!targtower!reader.

SYNOPSIS: as the youngest daughter of alicent hightower, you are wed to the young wolf, cregan stark. what many believe to be a union of strife, such a notion is proven wrong very quickly.

anonymous request.

{ FORMAT: one-shot — requested by anon.

{ WORD COUNT: 6.7K.

{ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), arranged marriage, reader is a targtower with pale hair & lilac eyes, skin color unspecified, first time sex (for reader), loss of virginity, p in v sex (unprotected), massive breeding kink, all stark men have a breeding gene, oral sex / cunnilingus (fem!rec), face-sitting, biting/marking, making out, lots of touching, missionary position, talk of having a child, soft ending + aftercare

{ AUTHOR’S NOTE: There’s been a ton of Cregan requests, so I hope that this satisfies a lot of people until I post another! ❤️ Thank you all so much for the incredible requests and support of my work, it means the world to me and I am extremely grateful for all of it. See you guys soon!

𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧, 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟 — 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐜𝐞.

The North was often regarded as a harsh and unyielding environment, with bitter, stinging winds and snowfalls that could bury men alive beneath their might. Such tales were often told to scare children or dissuade them from leaving the roost.

It was untamed and savage, according to your mother — she who vehemently fought against your betrothal to Cregan Stark, the Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell. A marriage steeped in wariness and discord, you had been pleasantly surprised by your husband’s kindness and warm stoicism.

Piety was a rarity in the bleak, bloodsoaked world you lived within — innocence was a quality as uncommon as a diamond in the rough. When Cregan had been offered such a sacred proposal during the last days of King Viserys I, he nearly scoffed at it.

A Targaryen, a Hightower — he almost imagined that the both of you would not do well together, and that it would become a sour union, made only to please families and uphold duty. His advisors, old men with embittered grudges against the South, cautioned him away from it, imploring him to wed a girl from the Vale or the Reach.

When Cregan Stark met you, clad in pale shades of sage and ivory, with lilac hues and a smile that could melt even the toughest of ice, perhaps it would not be a dreadful marriage after all.

Even with a dragon at your heel, there was something positively resplendent about you — Cregan could feel it within his marrow, a feeling seldom felt by any man locked in an arranged betrothal.

It was your innocuous, tenderhearted nature that beguiled him, as if you unconsciously drew him in with your honey. Your very first meeting happened to be to seal the marriage pact itself before you would be shipped away to the North, to be his wife and the new Lady Stark.

Cregan rarely found himself charmed by anyone, yet you possessed an inner beauty that flourished in his presence. You were your own flame, burning through his hardened exterior. He did not mistake your docile nature for weakness — you possessed a dragon, where he did not.

You were rather taken with him, perplexed by his outward ruggedness and gruff accent, the way in which he carried himself, massive physique clad in the thick trappings of a wolf. He was a mountain of a man, yet he handled you as if you were some precious jewel, sacred and worthy of admiration.

Alicent begrudgingly watched as you, her youngest daughter, untainted by her own fractured morality, was sent away to the North in the hands of some brute. For the good of the Realm, Viserys had told her, but it cut deeper knowing that it was you, her beloved flesh and blood.

Yet, as you found yourself beneath the crimson leaves of the Weirwood Tree in the Godswood, hands bound with Cregan’s own, you forgot about your mother’s bitterness entirely — and you were happy.

The first kiss was one that would make a permanent residence within your memory for lifetimes to come. He had cradled your face, towering over you as if he were a solemn statue, but even you could see the softening within his visage.

King’s Landing was suffocating, more often than not. The animosity that festered between your family smothered you, crushing you beneath its sharp heel. You were no longer surrounded by bitterness and resentment, and instead, cloaked by the protection and warmth of your new husband.

The feast held in honor of your blossoming union was one of merriment, the mood lighthearted and blissful. You sat beside your husband, stomach tumbling with a coil of nerves. Everyone seemed foreign to you, unfamiliar faces with their northern attitudes and odd indifference.

You could not fault anyone for having their suspicions, given your heritage. Being a Targaryen, pale-headed and violet-eyed, bringing your dragon from the South — it must’ve been jarring. Growing into your station as the Lady of Winterfell would be a long and arduous process, but you hoped that Cregan would show you the way.

Oblivious to your Lord-Husband’s smoldering stare, you politely consumed bites of the sugar-dusted fruit cobbler, admiring the vibrant aura within the room. Your wedding gowns were as pure as the driven snow, accented with silver embroidery and lined with pale fleece to keep you warm, given the cold gnaw of winter.

If it weren’t for Cregan’s steadfastness in providing you with a new wardrobe fit for winter, the icy chill would’ve consumed your extremities from the inside-out.

Leaning over within his seat, Cregan reached for your hand, stormy-gray hues churning with a kindness reserved for you. “How are you faring, wife?” He inquired, voice a low rumble; a soothing timbre that sent shivers down your spine.

“Very well,” Warmth crawled along your flesh when he referred to you as wife so openly and affectionately. You weren’t accustomed to having someone be so attentive to you, hang upon your every word, treat you with such courteousness. “This is so wonderful. I must thank you and your Keep, for your kindness.”

If you were anyone else, Cregan might’ve treated you with a stalwart cordiality found in most formalities, but you were not anyone else. You were good, sweet, and kindhearted — above all, you were quite innocent. He would’ve been telling himself a bold lie if he hadn’t thought about taking you to bed several times already.

The colors of the North suited you — his home suited you. Not many men of his position were so lucky when it came to betrothals, but he felt as if he was beyond fortunate to have married you. Cregan only hoped to be a good husband to you and to your future children, heirs to Winterfell, with the blood of the dragon and the wolf in their veins.

He had forbidden a bedding ceremony, content to guide you to your chambers once the festivities ceased, instead. Cregan enjoyed observing you and your demure mannerisms, from the way you made small talk with those around you, complimenting the choice of food and drink. It warmed his heart to know that his wife was an amiable soul.

“You needn’t worry, Princess. It is my duty as your husband to show you a bit of Northern hospitality.” Cregan mused, a ghost of a smile tugging at either corner of his mouth. He rarely showed any emotion, let alone treating his subjects with a smile given his hardiness, but he did show a sliver of it for you. He didn’t want to scare you away.

With a delighted smile, your hand shyly curled around his, your skin unblemished and soft. Cregan hadn’t touched a woman as silky as you, and it made his blood run hot — an inopportune time, given that it was in the midst of his wedding feast. “Thank you, my Lord.” You weren’t sure if you were permitted to abandon formalities just yet.

Cregan huffed, gaze twinkling with amusement as he let your smaller hand hold his own, digits tenderly caressing over your knuckles. “I would hope that you only call me ‘my Lord’ if you’re angry with me,” His chest rumbled with an affectionate sound. “You aren’t in King’s Landing anymore.”

Embarrassment rippled through you, but before you could correct yourself out of anxiousness, Cregan gingerly squeezed your hand. Instead, it evoked a smile from you, the very same tender expression you’d given him when you were proclaimed as his wife. “I will call you husband when I am pleased with you.” You mused, bright as could be, and so blissfully naive.

Often regarded as a brooding, serious man with little traces of humor, Cregan found himself letting his guard down just enough with you. Of course, to any observer, he still seemed rather stoic, but the brief, fleeting looks he gave you, the threadbare smiles — it suggested otherwise.

As the excitable buzz of the feast began to simmer, Cregan stood from the table, wood scraping across the stone floors of the Great Hall. He stepped away from you, sparing the servants and guardsmen a word before he returned to your side.

“Is there not to be a bedding ceremony?” You whispered, stomach still tight and festering with nervousness. It was something you feared since you last saw Aegon and Helaena be hauled away for such a thing. The concept of it frightened you, twisted and unusual.

With furrowed brows, Cregan shook his head, offering his thick arm out for you to take. “No,” He grunted, noticing the swell of anxiousness etched into your features. “I would never subject you to such a thing, or myself.” He murmured, feeling you take his arm as he led you from the Great Hall.

Relief flooded through you, and you finally relaxed, seemingly appreciative of Cregan’s thoughtfulness in the matter. “Thank you, husband.” You sighed, gripping onto his arm as he led you into a warm corridor and towards a massive spiral of thick, stone steps.

Though, you still had a duty to perform — consummating the marriage, creating an heir. Part of you feared what it all entailed, given that Helaena never seemed pleased with any of it. Would he hurt you? You were uncertain, but you wanted to believe that your new husband would keep you safe.

Cregan welcomed you into your marital chambers, tidied and polished for your stay. Whatever belongings you brought with you, they were situated near a set of fine, wooden chairs circled around a stone table. Everything seemed warm and comely in his quarters, the direwolf aesthetic heavy-handed, the hearth crackling and bursting with ripples of fire.

“If there is something not to your liking, inform me — I will have it rearranged,” Cregan rumbled, following in your footsteps as you neared the open hearth, warming your hands and basking in its glow. He stood close to you, towering over you with his bulk and might. “How are you?” He asked, ensuring your comfort above all else.

There was little need for the hearth when Cregan was near, radiating a natural heat that drew you in. His countenance seemed softer, not nearly as impassive as he’d been before. “I am more than fine, I promise.” You assured him, hands wringing together. “I thought that I would miss home, but I do not. Isn’t that terrible?”

Perplexed, Cregan seemed inclined to listen to your elaboration, chestnut tresses framing his face. “It isn’t a terrible thing, princess. I would imagine that it must be freeing, to be somewhere else. You’ve never left the capital.” He replied, knowing that you were quite sheltered for most of your life.

A soft sigh escaped you, and you tried not to think about it anymore. You didn’t want to sour the mood with talk of home and the past — this was now. “It is liberating,” You confessed, craning to look at him with a semblance of wonder and affection. “I am happy that I’m here with you.” You spoke with genuineness and finality.

It was pleasing to hear you say such a thing, and even better to know that you truly meant it. One thick, burly arm slowly encircled your hips, bringing you into the warm expanse of his chest. “Good,” He murmured, expression steely. “That pleases me greatly.”

To know that Cregan valued your happiness was a wonderful feeling — you felt cared for and seen, shrouded within his protectiveness. You imagined that it would be a blissful marriage. “Thank you, Cregan.” His name slipped from your perfect tongue, and he thoroughly enjoyed the sound it made.

A low rumble vibrated through Cregan’s chest as he drew you as close as he could, tracing his calloused digits along the soft curve of your jaw. “You are very beautiful,” He murmured, timbre edged with a delicious husk that made your knees buckle. You shivered, something that he took note of. “Are you cold, wife?”

You nodded, sucking in a sharp breath when his lips neared yours. “I am.” A squeak escaped you, followed by a steady exhale. You had been kissed before, but the extent of your experience abruptly stopped there. You imagined that you wouldn’t be cold for much longer.

His lips met yours, the kiss tender yet passionate, deepened by your husband. Cregan found your mouth to be most pleasant, pliant and perfectly soft, yet malleable. You reciprocated his kiss, hands moving to press against his chest.

“Will it be painful?” You whispered, likely in an attempt to soothe your gnawing nervousness. Agony was something that didn’t coexist with pleasure, in your mind. You wanted this moment to be special and sacred, binding yourself to your husband.

Cregan hesitated, gently cupping your face with his rough palm, tenderly stroking along your cheek. “I wouldn’t dare harm you, princess. You have my word.” He assured, and it confirmed his suspicions — you hadn’t been with another before. “It might be painful, but I will be gentle. We don’t have to start tonight.”

Admittedly, it was quite the opposite for you — you wanted to start tonight, but you longed for clarification first, and he gave it to you. You shook your head, hands slipping toward the front of his tunic, as if silently pleading with him to stay. “I want to.” You insisted, looking like the picture of innocence.

As much as he liked you sweet and pious, Cregan had a feeling that it would be somewhat different after this. His gray hues swirled with a heavy desire, dropping towards the delicate curve of your mouth. “May I?” It was all that he needed to ask, and as soon as you nodded, he brought you in for a heated kiss.

Despite his appearance, a stone-faced wall of muscle and Northern strength, he was incredibly gentle with you. He held you against him, never tight enough to cause you discomfort, hands softly kneading into your hips. You kissed him back as best as you could, feverishly hot, butterflies erupting within your stomach.

His beautiful wife — Cregan could not imagine another, now that he had you in his arms. The way you kissed him was innocuous and tender, as if you were also terrified of making a mistake. Your purity, a precious thing indeed, would be tarnished and dissolved after this evening.

The thought of you, round and swollen with his child, was both tantalizing and tempting — well within his grasp. Cregan wondered if they would take after you, pale-headed with lilac hues, or perhaps himself. If the Gods were good, they would be a blend of the both of you, a dragon and a wolf.

You shivered again when your burly husband curled his hand into the back of your wedding gown, fingers slipping between the gaps, feeling inklings of your bare skin beneath. “I’ll keep you warm, wife.” He rumbled, pressing a kiss against your jaw. It wasn’t from the cold, he knew this, but his honeyed words made you flustered.

He dropped his cloak, allowing the thick curtain of fur to land against the floor. He was impossibly broad, as thick as stone, tunic loose yet snug enough to accentuate his brawn. You felt your breath hitch within your throat, swallowing another barrage of nerves.

Cregan’s mouth assailed your neck, hand peeling away the collar of pale fur in order to reach you. Every kiss was passionate, wrought with need, yet maintained that air of gentleness. Roughness was in his nature, but he wouldn’t dare fall into that pit on your wedding night.

You tasted ambrosial, sweet velvet beneath his lips, which peppered themselves wherever they could. He listened to your soft gasps and needy whines, your hands having curled into the coarse material of his tunic. He wanted to show you just how perfect you really were.

Suddenly, your gown felt much too tight and constricting, as if you would drown within it. You alleviated such sensations by loosening the bodice, tugging on the ivory strings. The fur became unraveled as Cregan gently draped the garment over the back of a chair.

Left in the thin, humble trappings of your smallclothes, nothing more than a corset hugging a linen slip, he silently appraised you with the hunger of a wolf. You appeared to be shy, somewhat coy in his presence as he looked you over, large palms settling against the swell of your hips.

“Why do you shy away?” Cregan murmured, chestnut brows furrowing together, tone one of genuine concern. You were the prettiest creature he’d ever seen — most Targaryens were known for their beauty, but you possessed it both ways, inner and outer, and that only made you more incomparable in his eyes.

Swallowing your nerves, you chewed at the inside of your cheek, hands fidgeting together. “I suppose I worry about what you’ll think,” A sore insecurity, to be sure, but something most young maidens possessed. Cregan’s gray hues softened, one hand stroking along the length of your spine. “That I won’t be suitable.”

A huff escaped him, a threadbare chuckle as he shook his head, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “You worry too much, princess.” That deep, thunderous timbre of his, husky with his Northern accent, shook you right to your core. “You are my wife — and you are perfect.” He assured, kissing along your jaw.

You exhaled, hands reaching for his tunic, wanting to see him without his clothing. There was a rush of warmth that crawled across your flesh, surging through your blood as Cregan pressed endless kisses against your skin. He trailed from jaw to collarbone, hands loosening your corset.

With a brusque tug, your gruff husband tore it from you altogether, tossing the bodice aside. “I will show you how perfect you are.” He rumbled, voice a low, heavy caress near the shell of your ear. You shivered, gaze half-lidded as you tugged insistently at his tunic.

The message was unspoken, but conveyed nonetheless as your mountain of a husband let his hands drop from you, only to tug the coarse, dark linen over his head. He was burly, broad-shouldered and thick with muscle, wisps of chestnut tresses framing his face.

Amusingly enough, Cregan possessed more of a cherubic, youthful face than you expected, yet his nose was slightly crooked from having it broken, faint scars upon his face. His eyes seemed wisened, old beyond his years. He reached for your slip, gathering the material within his hands as he looked to you for consent.

With your confidence rejuvenated, you nodded, breathless and wanton as you assisted him in maneuvering out of your thin smallclothes. The brief lick of chilled air dragged across your bare flesh, causing your nipples to harden, pebbling with the chill.

Fire danced across your physique, tantalizing and gorgeous, beautiful beyond compare. Even Cregan seemed speechless for a beat, throat reverberating with a low grunt as he motioned toward your shared bed.

You half-expected him to pounce on you, grab your hips and stake his claim, but he simply resorted to watching you slide onto the bed, covered in furs of all varieties. The frame rustled slightly, and you laid down, a picture of true perfection. Your crown of pale tresses seemed to stick out amidst the darker pallor of the furs.

Anticipation churned violently within your gut, arousal slick and mounting between your thighs as Cregan stalked closer, removing clothing in the process. You watched with bated breath as he loosened the ties of his breeches, removing them altogether.

It was to be expected — a man of his indomitable stature likely had the assets to accompany it. You nearly choked at the sight of him, terrified that it really would hurt, even if he was gentle. You sucked in a sharp breath, bewildered when he had reclined beside you instead.

“I won’t bite, my Lady.” Cregan rumbled, soothingly patting his lap as you crawled closer. He effortlessly picked you up, letting you straddle his hips as he admired you from below. “Hm.” With a hum of approval, he caressed along your form, stroking from your thigh to your breasts.

It was agonizingly deliberate, made to explore and study instead of acting upon salacious impulses. Cregan observed you closely, palm gently cupping your breast, thumb swiping over your nipple. You gasped, careening into his sensual embrace.

A flurry of desire bubbled within him when you planted your smaller hand atop his, as if encouraging him to knead and grope at his leisure. He seemed pleased, and so did you, a low hum escaping you as he caressed your silky flesh.

He made sure to show that same amount of attention to your unattended breast, slowly kneading into you. Those tempestuous gray hues never tore themselves away from you, boring into you with a searing intensity.

Warm slick coalesced between your thighs, only mounting and growing when he continued to touch you, hand lifting to cup your chin. You absentmindedly leaned into his touch, eyes becoming half-lidded as you rocked forward within his lap.

The sensations you felt were new and exhilarating, goosebumps dancing across your spine, heat pooling between your legs. “May I touch you?” You asked, tone delicate and sweet, a display of your piety and innocence. He quite enjoyed your desire to explore alongside him, and he gave a nod of his head.

“You don’t need to ask, princess.” He soothed, jaw tensing as your soft palms settled against his chest. Cregan’s stormy eyes didn’t leave you, carefully tracing each plane of your curves, the downy texture of your skin, the lilac glint of your eyes.

Your fingertips dragged across his musculature, committing each scar to memory, features becoming hot beneath his incendiary stare. He was your husband now — you imagined that scenarios like these would become commonplace. “You are so handsome,” You whispered incredulously, lips curling into a gentle smile. “Perfect.”

Cregan appeared perplexed, a soft huff escaping him as he trailed his calloused palm across the small of your back. He couldn’t recall the last time someone had called him perfect and meant it — and he knew that you did. He neglected to act, allowing you to explore as much as you pleased.

Awestruck, he watched with silent hunger as you leaned down, lips pressing against his own. A soft grunt escaped Cregan as he caged you in, mouth passionate as it tangled with yours. He enjoyed the feeling of your body snug atop his, your skin resplendent, like velvet against the grating bite of stone.

Dragging a hand from the swell of your hips to the nape of your neck, he gripped the base of your skull, gingerly kneading into your pale tresses. He kissed you again, oozing with desire as he stole every wisp of air from your lungs.

He pulled one leg up into a v-shape, supporting your back to keep you upright atop his lap. You could feel the thick girth of his cock nudge against your backside, causing you to shiver at the foreign sensation. “Do you trust me?” Cregan murmured, roughened fingertips dragging over the pliant flesh of your thigh.

There was an indiscernible look within his eyes, chestnut brows drawing together slightly. Your breath hitched as you nodded, and Cregan settled against the furs, strewn on his back. Those strong hands of his continued to nudge you forward, bringing you from his warm lap to his chest, and then a touch closer.

“What are you …” Uncertain yet filled with exhilaration, you had no idea what Cregan was planning. Your slick cunt neared his mouth, and your Northern paramour did little to slow the process, bumping you forward until you hovered above him. “C—Cregan, C —” Your voice tapered off into a whine.

His tongue raked hot embers across your cunt, a sensation that immediately made your knees buckle. You used the headboard to brace yourself, mouth tearing open as a strangled gasp escaped you. Part of you feared sitting down entirely, but Cregan coaxed you down, hands digging into your haunches.

Your reaction was beyond worthwhile, body trembling and coiled, hand scrambling to brace yourself as the other fervently dug into his chestnut tresses. You never imagined that such pleasure was even possible, filling you with an excitable ecstasy that sank into your bones.

Splitting past your folds, Cregan tasted every inch of you, tongue seeking your cunt with a fervor. He was vigorous in his ministrations, not shying away from consuming every drop of your arousal. His nose brushed against your mound, hands kneading into your thighs to reassure you, let you know that he had you.

Even when he rested beneath you, he still seemed indomitable, perhaps a touch intimidating. You didn’t look down, body involuntarily trembling and rocking forward, back beginning to arch. “Gods, a—ah!” You stammered, thighs twitching and quivering as his tongue gently flicked over your clit.

Visibly flustered, you felt so strange and smitten, riding your husband’s face as you would your dragon. It filled your belly with a rousing fire, one bright enough to consume the rest of your body, licking along the length of your spine.

A low rumble emerged from Cregan’s chest, a vibration that rattled you to your core. He wanted you to have your fill, take as much as you could and drown within pleasure. Your maidenhead was still intact, a virtue that he did not treat lightly. He didn’t feel the need to breathe, lapping at your cunt with a wolfish gluttony.

You were undeniably soaked, like a fine stout upon his tongue as he devoured you. Cregan was passionate, each stroke of his tongue ensuring that you felt it all, bliss erupting throughout your stomach.

Chasing after what you imagined to be your release, you happened to peer down for a moment, finding the contented face of your husband, whose face was lodged between your legs. His brows were creased in concentration, tongue prodding against your entrance before languidly flicking back to your clit.

It was only when he pursed his lips around that sensitive clutch of nerves, that you nearly collapsed around him. Even your draconic blood could melt, tempered by the hardened ice of your Northern paramour. You gasped, hips stuttering as your thighs squeezed at either side of his head — fortunately, he didn’t seem to care.

The only thing you wanted was this, forever — your husband’s tongue between your legs, a sanctuary in the North with a potential family, a life in which you could finally find your solace. You continued to squirm and writhe, moaning his praises into the warmth of your chambers.

As you approached your peak, you grappled with Cregan’s tresses, tugging at the root as you rocked forward, again and again. “Cregan,” You moaned, countenance contorting into a look of sheer pleasure, bones crawling with an insatiable heat. “Cregan, Cregan, please!” It was a siren’s song of desire.

He did not stop, but he didn’t change course, either. Instead, he simply continued on, suckling at your clit as he intermingled it with timed laps of his tongue. Your release slammed into you, white-hot and blistering, gnawing away at your stomach as that coil of heat effectively snapped.

A whine emerged from you, one that was nearly breathless as you rocked forward again, legs shaking from ecstasy as you rode out your peak. Cregan, ever the dutiful husband, lapped at your nectar, savoring the taste, the scent of a pleasurable aftermath.

“What —” You had to catch your breath again, attempting to recuperate as you sat back on his chest instead, thick, burly muscle plentiful enough to cushion you. “Where did you learn how to do that?” It was an innocuous question, one so sweetly-spoken that it nearly caused Cregan to chuckle.

He did, however, smile — a rare, sentimental gesture reserved only for you. It was threadbare, and if it weren’t for the nature of your relationship, one might’ve thought him to be rugged and indifferent. “You need only ask, princess, and I will oblige.” His voice was a deep rumble that warmed your insides.

You thoroughly enjoyed the nickname of princess — a term of endearment given your status, but you were a princess no longer. “I am a lady of the North now, aren’t I? A princess no longer,” You proclaimed, skin shimmering with perspiration. “What will you call me, now?” You asked.

“Hm,” Cregan contemplated, pressing a kiss against your leg before he sat up enough to have a good look at you, chin still glistening with your slick. The sight was lewd, enough to make you unbelievably flustered as he grew closer, nearly chest-to-chest with you. “Lady Stark would suffice.” He murmured.

Something amorous burned within you, a smolder that soon turned to ignited sparks. “It would please me greatly.” You hummed, running your hands over his biceps before Cregan gently changed places with you, moving you beneath his bulk, comfortable upon your back.

Soft was a mere understatement — he could feel himself melt. It was not your dragon’s blood or heat that made him crumble, but your heart. He could imagine you as the mother of his children, belly round with his heirs, the Lady of Winterfell, a Hightower no longer.

He settled between your legs, and you gasped when his cock gently glided against your slick core. Cregan knew to temper himself, to be as gentle as he could with it being your wedding night, but his resolve was steadily diminished in your presence. He steeled himself, pressing a string of kisses along your body.

Without thinking, you unconsciously goaded Cregan into a point of near-frenzy. Your hands found the taut, trunk-like muscle of his biceps, visage filled with a sense of awe and adoration. “A child would please me greatly.” You confessed, having no clue what it would do to your husband.

Cregan stopped, digits curling into the thick furs on either side of your head. It took every fiber of his being not to fuck you then and there — and he wouldn’t, it wasn’t right for him to take your maidenhead with such roughness. His fantasy became reality, a visceral, beautiful vision that made him grunt, jaw unnaturally tense.

His rough palm soothingly stroked along your thigh, lust swelling within him like a blizzard, a violent storm of need that transcended all bonds of propriety. “Does Lady Stark want me to put a pup in her belly?” Cregan rumbled, tempestuous hues ignited with a fire that demanded to be extinguished, sending shockwaves right to your core.

You swallowed the growing lump within your throat, shuddering at the sound of his voice — an edged husk, like the rumbling of thunder before a deluge or the shaking of a mountain. “Yes,” You exhaled, searching his countenance, only to find desire. “I would.”

The Gods were testing him, aiming to see if he would break beneath the pressure, but he refused. Cregan lowered himself over you, lips molding themselves against yours in a hot kiss. Your hands remained poised atop his biceps, barely able to wrap themselves around the thick, corded muscle.

He wasn’t much of a talker, and it quickly dwindled into deep grunts and heavier sighs as he aligned his cock with your entrance. He made sure to part your legs, keeping them spread as he began to push inside of you. The sudden intrusion made you gasp, startled at the twinge of pain, the discomfort of it all.

Cregan despised the mere thought of causing you harm, and even he was willing to end it all then and there. “We don’t have to continue, beloved.” He rumbled, pressing a soothing string of kisses along your face. The endearing nickname made you preen, nails digging into his arms.

“No, I — I’m well enough,” You breathed, insistent on continuing. Cregan deliberated, but when you let out a low whine, he obeyed your command. “Gods, I need you, Cregan.” Pitched with a wanton resonance, you urged him to keep going.

Your neediness made his blood run hot, and he nodded, sluggishly resuming his pace. He continued to tilt his hips forward, cock feeding into you, inch by agonizing inch. Cregan felt the desperate bite of your nails clutching into muscle, leaving behind angry crescents.

You were never fully warned of the pain, the discomfort that accompanied pleasure. It was always sold as some fantasy, particularly for men — nights of heavenly passion resulting in bliss. For you, it was simply a marital duty to provide your husband with an heir, but this transcended that. Passion and affection sparked between the both of you, and it felt right.

As Cregan finally bottomed out inside of you, he allowed you time to fully adjust, rocking into you at a lackadaisical pace. He continued to shower you in kisses, wherever his lips could reach, giving particular affection to the crook of your neck.

Whatever discontent you felt, you hastily pushed it aside, tossing it into the recesses of your mind. Instead, you focused on him — on how incredible he made you feel, the warmth you experienced in his presence. One of your hands slipped to thread within his chestnut tresses, mouth agape.

You took him so well — better than expected, and it filled him with a sense of pride and ardor. Cregan pressed hungry kisses along your throat, nose buried into the hollow of it, right beneath your jugular. He continued to go slow, afraid of causing you further pain.

Cregan repositioned his hand, leaving one lodged beside your head, the other sinking into your haunch, digits tenderly kneading into your thigh. It was an offer of reassurance, and he watched your countenance shift from discontented to relaxed.

“Move,” The sharpness of your command brought him to heel, and he very nearly smiled — it was there, the ghost of it toying at his lips. Bringing his hips back and then forward, you moaned, knowing that the sting of pain would soon blossom into pleasure. “Please.”

Molten heat swirled within the pit of your stomach, arousal thick between your legs as Cregan began to find his pace, a rhythm that shook you to your core. He was so very gentle, even for a man of his herculean mass and muscle. He took care of you, soothingly caressing your thigh as he thrusted into you.

His cock filled you completely, a stretch that would take you more than just one night to adjust to. Your maidenhead was gone, your cunt tight around his length, pulling him in again and again.

Cregan’s breathing became heavier, somewhat labored as he consummated your union. Each snap of his hips held meaning, beyond the creation of an heir. It was tenuous with feelings, a burning sentiment he felt for you, ardor that had grown into a fire.

Admittedly, his mind was hazy, fueled by desire and the mere thought of you wanting a child — you had asked it of him, demanded, and he was at your mercy. Cregan couldn’t have gotten any luckier with you, the most resplendent woman he’d ever seen.

Imagining you full and round, still as lovely as the day he set his eyes upon you, a mother and a dragon — it was nothing short of true perfection. He chased after it, evident by the growing vigor and passion in each thrust of his hips, cock nearly tearing you into two.

No matter how gentle and careful Cregan was with you, it was to no avail, but you no longer cared. “Cregan,” You moaned, lifting one leg to hitch it around his waist, and that only seemed to further spur him on, allowing him to hit new depths. His throbbing length nearly kissed your womb, filling you to the brim. “Cregan!” You cried.

For a moment, you feared being split in-half by your mountain of a husband, but he slowed enough to let you recuperate, throat reverberating with carnal grunts. The rumbling of his chest, the heat that radiated from him in waves — it was all perfect.

It was driving him mad, the way your cunt constricted around his cock, the way in which your back arched from the furs, chest brushing against his. Cregan grunted, jaw set and brows furrowed in concentration as he kneaded into your thigh, something to alleviate his tension.

His thrusts deepened, became passionate and invigorated with love, and each snap of his hips made your head spin with delirium. You were drunk on desire, clinging to him as if you were a drowning maiden, hand splayed against his shoulder.

Whenever he happened to become a touch too vigorous, he felt your nails dig deep into his flesh, leaving behind the reddened marks of your consummation. Cregan was getting close, chest erupting with labored pants as he pressed his forehead against yours.

You moaned, body bending beneath his passion, malleable within his hands. His cock throbbed within you as he sought to spill his seed, face against yours, lips occasionally connecting in a series of sloppy, warm kisses. Everything felt incredible, in ways that you couldn’t comprehend.

He was so burly, a thick wall of impenetrable muscle that seemed to envelop you entirely, shield you from everything else, from all harm. Strands of chestnut stuck to his temples, flesh glittering with perspiration from the exertion of lovemaking, coupled with the heat in your chambers.

With another brusque thrust of his hips, he settled inside of you, reaching his peak with a subtle groan. His seed filled your cunt in hot ropes, more than enough to take, if the Gods were good. Cregan exhaled, feverishly hot as he began to recuperate, neglecting to remove himself from you for a few moments.

“Are you alright?” Cregan murmured, ensuring your wellbeing first, above all else. A stinging soreness settled into your thighs and your core, but you would survive. He didn’t completely obliterate you, thankfully — you wondered what he would be like, unrestrained.

“Yes,” You smiled, visibly flustered beneath the intensity of his stare. “That was incredible.” Your confession made him huff, likely one of amusement as he pressed a kiss against your forehead. Even you glittered with sweat, but that was to be expected.

You already wanted more — and you nearly asked it of him.

Lascivious fantasies took root within your mind, and the mere idea of him being rough and completely domineering made your cunt throb. You could not do it now, given how exhausted you were, but he had certainly unlocked a new side to you, a side that you were unfamiliar with.

Cregan pulled himself from you, propping your hips up beneath a feathered pillow to ensure that his seed would take. He rested beside you, drawing you into the bulk of his muscled arms, allowing you to rest your head against the expanse of his chest. “You were perfect.” He rumbled, roughened digits stroking along your spine.

It pleased you to know that your husband was satisfied with you, much to your delight. “I am glad,” Relief rippled through you as you inched closer, perfectly slotted against his frame. “So were you.” Your pleasant accolades made him smile, fracturing his stony exterior.

“There will be plenty of time for this, that I can promise you,” Cregan was more concerned with getting to know you, his beautiful lady-wife, Lady Stark. “I would like to start with you.” He murmured, savoring the sensation of your fingers tracing across his abdomen.

You blinked, seemingly surprised by Cregan’s genuine interest in you. It made you happy — perhaps you could have both. Moments of learning and moments like these, where you could indulge in pleasure.

“Would it offend you if I asked you to do both?” You questioned, warmth crawling along your body as Cregan squeezed the swell of your hip, gray hues sparkling with a semblance of mirth.

“It wouldn’t,” Cregan mused, timbre dropping to a lull, a husky octave that seemed to envelop you in its stoicism and warmth. “It pleases me to know that Lady Stark possesses the appetite of a dragon.” His teasing made you squirm, but he simply caressed you and held you closer.

With a coy smile, you lifted your head, pressing your lips against his, asserting your still-lingering desire for your husband. “Not a dragon,” Your tone softened with a sweeter resonance. “A wolf.”

#house of the dragon #hotd x reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x you #cregan stark x y/n #cregan x reader #cregan stark #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon smut #hotd smut #hotd fanfiction

5K notes · View notes

surielstea · 2 months ago

Text

A Warriors Heart

Based on a request.

Pairing: Virgin!Azriel x Virgin!Reader

Summary: Azriel and Reader have been mated for a long time but have yet to act on it. What happens when alone in a house together?

A.Note: Sooo the original request asked for an Experienced!Reader but I was struggling writing a dynamic like that so here’s this, hopefully it’s okay. Also, Rhys and Reader are half-siblings!

6.2k word count.

The house was silent. A rare occurrence. Even when the three Illyrians weren't crowding it with their banter and heavy footsteps, Rhysand's mother's soft humming usually drifted from the kitchen, accompanied by the clatter of pots and pans. That noise, that life, filled every corner of our home, like a heartbeat.

But tonight, the silence felt heavier. My brother and Cassian were away on an overnight expedition to another war camp, and Rhysand's mother had been summoned to the Night Court by my father. It was just Azriel and me. Alone.

I had known Azriel was my mate since I was eight years old, the bond threading between us as easily as a ribbon slipping through fingers. I had accidentally accepted it when I was fifteen, too young to understand the weight of what I'd done. We'd made a pact soon after, two awkward teenagers fumbling to make sense of the unshakable connection between us. Friends could be soulmates, we told ourselves. We swore to keep the bond platonic, to navigate it without letting it define us.

But no matter how much I tried to ignore it, the bond shimmered between us like sunlight on a blade, sharp and undeniable. Azriel's protective nature—his tendency to linger closer than necessary, to bristle when someone dared flirt with me—had always been my undoing. And while he could command a room with a single glance, I had no doubt he saw me as nothing more than the sister of his closest friend.

It was why I'd spent the last seven years pulling away, trying to temper the ache that came from unrequited feelings. Even now, with all the years and distance between us, I didn't know how to act when it was just the two of us.

I didn't hear his footsteps. I never did. But his voice, soft and steady, broke the silence as I stirred the stew on the stove.

"Smells good."

I jumped, whirling to find Azriel leaning casually against the doorway, his hazel eyes glinting with quiet amusement.

"Gods," I exhaled, clutching the wooden spoon to my chest like a lifeline. "You have to stop sneaking up on me."

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, a rare, fleeting thing that made my heart skip. "Can't help it," he replied, shrugging one broad shoulder. "Your reaction is worth it every time."

I rolled my eyes and turned back to the stove, determined to ignore the warmth creeping up my neck.

Azriel moved closer, his steps silent, until I could feel the faint heat of him behind me. He leaned in, just enough for his breath to brush the back of my neck as he peered over my shoulder.

"Stop looming," I muttered, swatting at him half-heartedly with the spoon.

He pulled back with a low chuckle, the sound curling in my chest and settling there, stubborn and unrelenting.

As he retreated to the sitting room, I focused on the stew, determined not to let my racing heart betray me. But even with his back turned, I could feel him—his gaze like a tether, steady and unyielding.

I hummed a tune under my breath, one my mother always sang while cooking. The melody was soft and familiar, a distraction from the weight of the quiet house and the man watching me from across the room.

By the time I ladled the stew into bowls, the tension in my chest had coiled tight. I turned, the bowls in hand, and froze.

Azriel was leaning back on the couch, his legs stretched out before him, wings draped lazily over the sides of the cushions. But his eyes were locked on me, dark and burning, as though he could see straight through me.

"Ready," I murmured, more to break the silence than anything, nudging a drawer closed with my hip as I grabbed two sets of silverware.

I set the bowls on the table and slid into my chair, pretending not to notice the way Azriel settled into the seat beside me instead of the one across. The scent of him—night-chilled mist and cedar—washed over me, and I busied myself arranging the utensils just to keep my hands from shaking.

He started eating without a word, and I followed suit, though each bite felt like a struggle under the weight of his presence.

It was almost odd watching him eat food I made, so reminiscent of how mates accept the bond. Even if the tether between us was always at the back of my mind, nights like these brought them front and center as if laid out on the table in front of me.

"Thank you," he said after a few minutes, his voice low. Almost shy.

I glanced at him, startled. "It's no bother," I replied quickly, brushing off the gratitude. "I know you've been training all day. You needed it."

Azriel tilted his head, studying me with a look that made my stomach flip. For a moment, I thought he might argue, but he only nodded and returned to his meal.

"I'll make you breakfast in the morning," he said finally, the promise simple but weighted.

I blinked at him, a small smile tugging at my lips despite myself. "Deal."

We ate in silence after that, though it wasn't uncomfortable. The sound of silverware against bowls filled the space, grounding us. But I couldn't ignore the way his gaze kept flicking toward me like he was holding back something he didn't know how to say.

Finally, I set my spoon down and looked at him directly. "What?"

His lips curved into a faint smirk, the kind that always made my pulse stutter. "Nothing."

"Az," I warned, dragging his name out like a thread.

His smirk deepened, but his eyes softened, the light in them catching like a spark in the dim kitchen. "I missed this. Just the two of us."

Heat crawled up my neck. "Is it so different than when Rhys and Cass are here?"

He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "You tell me." He smirks. "You don't usually stare at me so much when they're around."

The words struck something deep, a soft ache I hadn't realized was there. I looked away, focusing on my bowl. "Maybe you just haven't been paying attention."

His wings shifted slightly, a rustle of leather against wood. "I always pay attention." The quiet conviction in his voice made me pause, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it. "You seem so busy avoiding me that you don't realize how often I'm watching you."

I dared a glance at him, and the way he was looking at me—like I was something worth watching, worth knowing—stole the breath from my lungs. "Now you just sound obsessed with me," I replied, attempting to keep my tone light.

"And if I am?"

I quickly dropped my gaze, grabbing my spoon like it could anchor me. But the tension in the air didn't ease, and I knew—no matter how many years we'd spent pretending otherwise—that the bond was still there, pulling us closer with every passing moment. "Then I'd tell you to find someone else," I say, my pulse fluttering.

"No," he added casually, "you'd miss me if I wasn't here to keep you company."

I snorted, rolling my eyes to mask the sudden skipping in my chest. "You mean to annoy me, right?"

"Same thing." He grinned, his rare smile brightening his usually stoic face, dimples softening his features and making my stomach knot.

I shook my head, trying not to laugh as I resumed eating. "You're unbelievable."

"C'mon, admit it. You'd be so lonely in this house without me as entertainment." His voice was softer now, and when I glanced at him, his expression had shifted. The teasing was still there, but beneath it was something warm, something real.

I swallowed hard, the knot in my chest tightening again. "I hate to ruin your fantasy but you're not exactly a great source of entertainment."

"Do you want me to be?" he said, and the way his voice dipped sent a shiver down my spine.

We fell back into silence after that, but it wasn't the same quiet as before. This time, the air between us felt charged, every glance and shift of movement loaded with something unspoken.

As we finished our meal, Azriel leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he studied me. "So, what's for dessert?"

I scoffed at him. "Dessert?"

"Yes, dessert," he said, as though it were obvious. "You cooked dinner, so dessert is next. That's how it works, isn't it?"

I gave him a flat look. "You're awfully demanding for someone who just promised to make me breakfast."

"I like to think of it as balancing the scales," he replied smoothly. "Besides, I'm in the mood for something sweet."

The way he said it made my stomach flip, though I tried to keep my expression neutral. "Well, unless you're planning to bake something yourself, you're out of luck."

He sighed dramatically, resting his chin in his hand. "What a shame. Guess I'll have to settle for your company instead."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," I said, standing to clear the dishes, though I couldn't keep the grin off my face.

"Who said I was flattering you?" he called after me, his voice laced with amusement.

"You can clean up dinner then, I'm going to go read," I say with a taunting smile.

"So I can't have dessert or your company?" He argued as I began retreating down the hall.

"I'll be in my room if you need me, shadow singer."

"Yes, ma'am." But his tone was anything but obedient. I reached my door, and when I glanced back at him, his smirk was firmly in place, his gaze following me like one of his shadows. I entered my room and closed my door with a finalizing shut.

I leaned against the door, letting out a shaky breath. My chest felt tight, the warmth of Azriel's gaze still lingering on my skin. It was always like this with him—subtle, unspoken, charged. And yet, neither of us ever dared to cross that invisible line.

Until tonight, maybe.

The sound of dishes clinking in the kitchen echoed faintly through the house, proof that he had actually listened to me. I smirked to myself, shaking my head as I moved toward my bed.

I plucked my book from my nightstand, letting his gaze and words fizzle away, forcing myself to focus on the story in my hands.

It was hard not to think of him, he was technically a part of me after all. The tether between us was dusty and untouched, but somehow pulsing with life. I hadn't meant to, but I tugged on that bond, and the noise in the kitchen halted entirely.

Before I could weigh the fallout of my actions there was a knock on my door, soft and hesitant.

I slipped from the bed, still clutching my book just for something for my hands to do. I opened the door before I could second guess myself, revealing Azriel leaning against the frame of it. "You finished with the dishes already?" I say with a tilt of my head.

"No, I—you called me in here," He said with a crease in his brow.

"I didn't say anything?" I mutter.

"But you did, the bond," He attempts to explain and I cringe, hating to watch him fumble around this.

"I didn't mean to," I confess with a slight smile.

I stepped back instinctively, letting him into my room before the vulnerability of the moment could choke me. Azriel hesitated at the threshold, his broad frame nearly filling the doorway. His shadows coiled restlessly around his shoulders, mirroring the tension in his jaw. Finally, he stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

"You didn't mean to," he echoed, his voice low, almost disbelieving.

I shook my head, gripping the book tighter. "I've been doing well, haven't I? Not tugging on it? Not pulling you into something you didn't ask for?"

Azriel's gaze snapped to mine, sharp and unyielding. "Something I didn't ask for?" His wings shifted slightly, the leather whispering in the quiet. "You think I don't feel it, too? That I haven't felt it every day since I was sixteen?"

I blinked, his words striking me like a lightning bolt. He took a step closer, and the air between us charged, crackling with everything we'd been avoiding for years. "You think you're the only one pretending this doesn't exist? That it doesn't rip me apart every time I'm near you?"

The rawness in his tone stole the breath from my lungs. "Az... I didn't know. You—" I swallowed hard. "You've always seemed so controlled, indifferent to it."

He let out a low, humorless laugh, the sound cutting through the room. "Because I had to be. Because if I wasn't, I'd—" He stopped himself, dragging a hand through his dark hair. His wings flared slightly as if he was fighting the urge to pace. "You have no idea what you've done to me. And when you pulled on the bond just now, well it's a shock I can even find words despite the aching in my heart."

My heart thundered in my chest, the bond between us humming, alive and insistent. "Azriel," I murmured, barely able to meet his gaze. "I didn't mean to—"

"Stop apologizing," he interrupted, stepping closer again, his hazel eyes burning into mine. "Don't you understand? I want you to pull on it. I want to feel you. To be near you."

My lips parted, but no words came out. He was so close now, his heat wrapping around me like a second skin. The scent of him—cedar and night-chilled mist—was intoxicating, pulling me under, but I was far from drowning.

"I thought you wanted me to ignore it, and I tried my best," he continued, his voice quieter now, trembling with restraint. "But then you went out of your way to keep your distance. And it drove me insane. Do you know how hard it is to love who doesn't feel the same?"

My breath hitched, his confession settling over me like a second bond. "You—what?"

He smiled faintly, but there was no humor in it. "Don't make me say it again."

My knees felt weak, my grip on the book tightening to keep from falling. "I thought..." I shook my head, a bitter laugh escaping me. "I thought you only tolerated me because of my brother."

Azriel's wings flared again, a sudden, restless movement. "Rhys has nothing to do with this. He never has."

I stared at him, my heart racing, my mind a whirlwind of confusion and hope. "Azriel," I whispered his name a prayer, a plea.

He reached for me then, his hand hesitating before brushing my cheek. His touch was warm, grounding, and the bond between us thrummed in response, a living thing that refused to be ignored.

"I'm done pretending," he murmured, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw. "If you don't want this that's fine, I'll distance myself. But if you do—"

I didn't let him finish. I dropped the book, my hands finding the soft material of his shirt as I yanked him closer, crashing my lips to his.

Azriel let out a surprised noise, a deep, guttural sound that sent heat pooling in my stomach. His wings flared wide, his shadows scattering as he kissed me back with a ferocity that stole my breath. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me flush against him, and I melted into his warmth, into the strength of him.

I gasped when his lips left mine, trailing down my jaw to the sensitive spot just below my ear. "Just us," he whispered the words sacred, a vow.

"Us," I breathed, threading my fingers into his hair, tugging gently. "Always."

He lifted me then, his hands firm on my thighs as he carried me to the bed. He laid me down gently, his body pressing against mine as he kissed me again, slower this time, reverent.

My hands roamed over him, tracing the hard planes of his chest, the ridges of his muscles. He shuddered under my touch, his wings trembling as they curled protectively around us.

"I've never—" he murmured against my lips, his voice ragged as I cut him off.

"Neither have I," I whispered, arching into him. "I trust you, Az."

Something in his eyes softened at that, the love and need in them so intense it made my chest ache. Then he kissed me again, and there was no more room for words.

Just us. Just this.

We were a fumbling mess, equally awkward as we were clueless. But I wouldn't have changed anything about it. Because I finally had him, his lips were on mine and his hands held me.

I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck, pulling at the back of his shirt, yanking it up, needing my hands on his bare skin. He pulled away from the kiss to get it over his head, discarding it on my bedroom floor.

His body hovered over mine, his wings curling inward like a shelter, cocooning us in a space where only we existed. My hands roamed the expanse of his bare chest, marveling at the strength there, the warmth that radiated from him. His muscles tensed and relaxed under my touch, a shiver rippling through him as my fingers explored.

He dipped his head, brushing his lips over mine again, this kiss softer, slower. "Are you sure?" he murmured, his voice a low rasp against my mouth. The vulnerability in his hazel eyes made my chest ache.

I cupped his face, smoothing my thumbs over his sharp cheekbones. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life." My voice trembled, but it carried the weight of truth. "It's always been you, Az."

Something in him broke at my words. His forehead dropped to mine, his breath shuddering as he let out a soft laugh, tinged with disbelief. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this."

"I think I've got some idea," I whispered, my hands slipping to the nape of his neck, tangling in his hair.

His lips found mine again, but this time, there was no hesitation, no restraint. His kiss deepened, his tongue brushing against mine as his hands began to explore, sliding down my sides, tentative but firm. Each touch sent a jolt of heat through me, my body arching into him instinctively.

When his hand skimmed under the hem of my nightgown, his fingers tracing the bare skin of my waist, I gasped against his lips. He stilled, pulling back just enough to meet my gaze. "Tell me if I—if you need me to stop," he said, his voice a strained whisper.

I shook my head, a soft smile tugging at my lips. "Don't stop. Please, Az."

He exhaled shakily, his hands more confident now as he lifted my nightgown. I helped him pull it off, and he paused to take me in, his gaze sweeping over me like a caress. "You're beautiful," he murmured, his voice filled with awe, as though he couldn't believe this moment was real. His fingers brushed over my collarbone, down to my ribs, and I trembled under his touch.

"You're allowed to touch me," I said softly, my cheeks warming under his intense gaze. "I want you to."

His shadows curled around my wrists, feather-light, as though they couldn't resist the temptation of me either. "You're, soft," he murmured, an uneasiness in his eyes that made me realize why he was so hesitant. I took his hand in mine, running my thumb over a scar.

"Touch me, Az." My voice was a breathless plea as I guided his scarred hand to my covered breast, craving the feel of him everywhere. His breath hitched, but the hesitation in his eyes melted away as his hands explored my sides, fingertips trailing heat over my waist. His thumbs brushed against the underside of my bra, and my breath faltered. He froze, his gaze meeting mine, searching for any sign of doubt.

When he found none, his lips tilted in a barely-there smile, reverence written across his features. He reached behind me, his fingers fumbling with the clasp, his brow furrowing in concentration. When the garment finally slipped free, I flushed, exposed under his gaze.

His wings trembled, his eyes darkening with barely restrained desire. "You're perfect," he whispered, the words soft, as though they were meant for no one but himself.

I swallowed, my heart thundering as I reached for him, pulling him down until our bodies met. The heat of his skin burned against mine, a delicious contrast that sent sparks through every nerve. His lips found my neck, pressing kisses along my skin that grew wetter and hotter as he made his way down. My head fell back as he trailed lower, his mouth closing over my breast.

A soft cry escaped me, my fingers tangling in his hair, tugging lightly. He froze, pulling back just enough to look at me, concern flickering across his features. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," I whispered, my voice shaky but insistent. "It—it feels good, Az."

Relief flooded his expression, and his lips curved into a small, teasing smirk. "Good," he murmured before returning to his task, his tongue flicking experimentally, his teeth grazing gently as he learned what made me gasp and arch into him.

My hands explored the expanse of his back, the muscles beneath his skin flexing and rippling under my touch. I dragged my fingers lower, to the base of his wings, earning a low groan from him that vibrated through my chest.

"You're sensitive there," I noted, a teasing lilt to my voice.

He let out a shaky laugh, his breath fanning across my skin. "You have no idea."

I grinned but left the spot alone for now, my hands sliding to his shoulders to pull him back up. Our lips met again, his tongue brushing against mine, tasting me, exploring me. His kiss was consuming, and I let myself sink into it, reveling in the way he took control, how he kissed as though he'd waited lifetimes for this.

I trailed my hands down his chest, my fingers mapping every ridge and dip of muscle until I reached the waistband of his pants. My hand slipped beneath the fabric, but his scarred fingers covered mine, halting my movements.

"Are you sure?" His voice was hoarse, his forehead pressed against mine, his breathing uneven.

"Yes," I murmured, one hand tugging gently on his hair to pull him closer. "I want all of you, Azriel. I've always wanted you."

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, the vulnerability in his eyes stealing my breath. "It'll hurt," he warned softly, his voice laced with worry.

"I know," I said, cupping his cheek with one hand, my thumb brushing over the sharp line of his jaw. "But every time after this will be perfect," I added, a quiet promise in my voice.

His eyes softened, a flicker of something unspoken passing between us. He exhaled deeply, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Every time after this," he echoed, his tone laced with awe.

Still, his hand didn't release mine. "We have to get you ready first," he said, his voice gentler now, the determination in his gaze sending a thrill through me.

My face burned, but I nodded, moving my hand to his shoulder and digging my nails into his back as he slid my panties down my thighs. The cool air kissed my heated skin, but it was nothing compared to the intensity of his touch.

He started slow, his fingers sliding through my folds, teasing, testing. My hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more, but he gripped my thigh with his free hand, holding me in place.

"Azriel," I breathed, his name leaving my lips like a prayer.

"Here?" His voice was dark, teasing, as his thumb circled my clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through me.

"Yes—there," I gasped, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

I slapped a hand over my mouth, desperate to stifle the noises spilling from me, but his shadows coiled around my wrist, pulling my hand away and pinning it above my head.

"No, love," he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "I'm done imagining what you sound like screaming my name." His breath ghosted over my skin as he pressed a kiss to my neck, finding the sensitive spot that made my body tremble. "Let me hear you," he uttered, his voice rough with desire.

A shaky exhale escaped me, and when he slipped a finger inside me, crossing a line that sent a burst of pleasure through my body, I did exactly as he'd imagined.

"Azriel," I moaned, my head tilting back into the pillows.

"That's my girl," he praised, the words making me clench around him.

His scarred fingers moved in a slow rhythm, in and out, each stroke deliberate, teasing. I could feel myself unraveling, the tension building in my core threatening to snap.

"I—I'm close," I whimpered, my voice barely audible.

"I know," he whispered against my neck, his teeth scraping over the sensitive skin.

His shadows tightened their hold, pinning me further into the mattress as he placed his thumb on my clit, circling it hard. His mouth returned to my breast, his tongue working in tandem with his fingers.

Pleasure surged through me, and I cried out his name again, my legs trembling as he pushed me closer to the edge.

"That's it," he murmured, his voice like velvet, thick with want. "Let go for me, love."

And I did.

The tension snapped, and I shattered beneath him, pleasure crashing over me in waves. My body arched into his touch, and his name spilled from my lips in a breathless chant. He slowed his movements, coaxing me through it, his lips pressing gentle kisses to my skin.

When I finally came down, my chest heaving, I opened my eyes to find him watching me, his expression raw, reverent.

"My girl," he murmured again, his voice thick with emotion.

I reached for him, pulling him down until his forehead pressed against mine. "Azriel," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I'm ready."

His jaw tightened, eyes flicking over me once more but he nodded. His eyes didn't leave mine as he removed his pants and everything beneath it.

He hovered above me, his chest rising and falling with measured breaths as he shed the last of his clothing. My gaze followed the lines of his body, drinking in the powerful, carved planes of him. Shadows danced across his golden skin, softening the hard edges, but nothing could diminish the raw, unyielding strength that he carried.

"I've waited for this," he said finally, his voice hoarse. "For you."

Emotion swelled in my chest, tangling with the heat that still coursed through me. I placed my hand over his, pressing his palm more firmly against my face. "Then take me, Azriel. I'm yours."

Something broke in him then, the raw vulnerability in his gaze giving way to a feral hunger. He lowered himself onto his elbows, caging me beneath him. His wings flared slightly, a protective shroud as his forehead pressed to mine.

"Tell me if it's too much," he murmured, his voice softening as his lips brushed mine. "I'll stop if you ask me to."

I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. He kissed me then, slow and tender, as though sealing a promise.

When he positioned himself at my entrance, his gaze found mine again. His wings quivered as he asked one last, silent question. I answered by wrapping my legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

The first press of him was exquisite—a stretch that burned but didn't break. My breath hitched, and Azriel froze, his hand gripping my hip as though anchoring himself.

"You alright?" he asked, his voice strained.

"Yes," I said, my hands finding the base of his wings, the sensitive area so soft beneath my touch. I stroked gently, hoping to soothe the tension coiling in his body. "Keep going."

He nodded, his jaw clenched as he eased into me, inch by torturous inch. My body adjusted to him, the burn fading into a fullness that made my breath catch. Azriel buried his face in the crook of my neck, his breath hot against my skin.

"Gods," he groaned, his voice breaking. "So fuckin' good."

I tightened my hold on him, my fingers slipping into his hair as I whispered, "Please, more."

He sunk in further, and once I was certain I couldn't take anymore he pushed in another inch. I moaned into his shoulder, relishing the burn of it, the pleasurable pain that sent me spiraling. Deeper, so deep. I lost words as he finally bottomed out, his hips meeting mine.

Tears shone in my eyes but I didn't tell him to stop, didn't want him to. It took me a moment to adjust, to so much as catch my breath. He lifted one of my legs up, shadows tethering it there, allowing the foreign stretch to lessen.

"Okay," I say shakily. "Mm, you can move." I nod, placing my hands on his shoulders.

He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, telling me he was here if I wanted him to stop. Then, he began to move, slow and steady, his hips rolling in a rhythm that built a delicious friction between us. Each thrust was deliberate, controlled, as though he was determined to make me feel every moment of my very insides molding to him, fitting around him and only him.

The pain faded entirely, replaced by waves of pleasure that built with every movement. I moaned his name, my nails digging into his back as he drove deeper, his wings trembling on either side of us.

"Look at me," he rasped, lifting his head. His eyes burned, molten with desire and something deeper, something that made my heart ache. "I want to see you."

I met his gaze, unable to look away as he moved inside me, his name spilling from my lips like a prayer. The connection between us deepened, an unspoken bond that seemed to tighten with every thrust, every shared breath.

Azriel's hips maintained their slow, deliberate rhythm, each thrust sending a delicious ripple of heat through my body. His wings trembled above us, shadows curling and twisting around my raised leg, holding me in place. The stretch still burned faintly, but it was a sweet ache, one that was quickly drowned out by the mounting pleasure.

“You're so tight," Azriel groaned, his voice hoarse, breaking on the words. His hand came up to cradle my cheek, his thumb brushing over my lips. "So perfect for me."

I whimpered, my chest heaving as I struggled to keep my eyes locked on his. It was hard—gods, it was so hard when he was staring at me like that, his hazel gaze molten, filled with a hunger that set me ablaze.

"Az," I breathed, his name a plea I didn't fully understand myself.

"What do you need, love?" he rasped, lowering his forehead to mine. His breath mingled with mine, his lips brushing against my mouth but never pressing fully. "Tell me. I'll give you anything."

I couldn't find the words, so I arched into him, my nails dragging down his back, the feeling of his muscles tensing beneath my hands enough to make me shiver. He groaned low in his throat, his hips stuttering before he caught himself, slowing once again.

"Careful," he murmured, his lips ghosting over my jaw. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You're not," I managed, my voice trembling as his next thrust hit something deeper, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through me. I gasped, my fingers tightening in his hair.

Azriel's smirk was dark, dangerous. "There?"

I nodded, unable to do much more than whimper as he shifted his angle slightly, rolling his hips in a way that made my entire body arch off the mattress. The pleasure was overwhelming, a slow, torturous build that had me teetering on the edge without ever quite falling over. "Faster," I begged, needing him to abuse the spot.

He did as told, quickening his pace, learning what made me gasp, what made my nails bite into his skin. His shadows curled around me, their cool touch a stark contrast to the heat of our bodies. They skimmed my sides, my thighs, whispering over my skin like a lover's caress.

"So beautiful," Azriel murmured, his voice filled with reverence. He dipped his head, his lips brushing over my collarbone, then lower, until his mouth closed over my breast yet again.

I cried out, my back arching as his tongue flicked over my sensitive peak. He lavished attention on me, his hand coming up to knead the other breast, his thumb teasing the hardened peak.

"Azriel," I moaned, my hands roaming over his back, his shoulders, desperate to anchor myself as he continued his slow, torturous rhythm.

"Say it again," he demanded, his voice rough as he nipped at the delicate skin of my chest.

"Azriel," I whimpered, my voice breaking on his name.

He groaned, his hips snapping harder against mine. The sudden force sent a shockwave through me, pleasure and pain twining together until I couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

"Good girl," he murmured, his lips trailing back up to my neck, finding that sensitive spot beneath my ear that made me shiver. "You take me so well."

I couldn't respond, couldn't think past the way he filled me, the way his body moved against mine. My free leg tightened around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer.

Azriel's pace quickened further, just slightly, enough to make my breath catch. His wings flared, the powerful appendages framing us, blocking out the world until there was nothing but him.

"Gods," he groaned, his voice breaking as he buried himself deeper, his hands gripping my hips so tightly I was sure there would be bruises. "You're going to ruin me, love."

I cupped his face, bringing his lips to mine in a searing kiss. He kissed me harder, his movements growing more desperate.

His pace grew more erratic, his hips snapping into mine with an urgency that sent waves of pleasure crashing through me. His ministrations worked me mercilessly, every thrust pushing me higher until I felt like I might break apart entirely.

"Azriel," I gasped, my voice trembling as my nails raked down his back, desperate to ground myself against the storm building inside me.

His lips brushed my ear, his breath hot and uneven. "Let go, love," he rasped. "I've got you."

His words were my undoing. The coil inside me snapped, and I shattered, my body arching off the bed as the pleasure tore through me. I cried out his name, gripping his shoulders as the waves rippled over me, again and again.

"Fuck," Azriel groaned, his thrusts faltering as my body clenched tightly around him. I felt him tremble above me, his restraint slipping with every broken sound that left his lips.

Through the haze of pleasure, I reached for his wings, running my fingers along the sensitive ridges where they flared above us. His reaction was immediate—a sharp intake of breath, his entire body shuddering.

"Gods," he ground out, his head dropping to my shoulder as I stroked the base of his wings, teasing the place I knew would unravel him completely. His hips snapped forward, deeper this time, and the broken groan that spilled from him sent another thrill through me.

"Az," I whispered, pulling him closer, my lips brushing his ear. "Inside.."

His head shot up, his molten gaze locking with mine as he searched my face. His jaw clenched, his restraint hanging by a thread as he rasped, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," I breathed, my fingers threading through his hair, pulling him down to me. "I want all of you, Azriel."

The last thread of his control snapped. With a low growl, he buried himself inside me to the hilt, his wings flaring wide as his release took him. His body tensed, a shuddering groan spilling from his lips as he gave me everything. I held him tightly, my hands stroking the base of his wings as he rode out his climax, his hips jerking with the aftershocks.

"Gods," he whispered hoarsely, his forehead pressing against mine as he struggled to catch his breath. "You're everything, love."

I smiled softly, brushing a strand of dark hair from his damp forehead. "And you're mine," I whispered, my voice steady despite the emotion swelling in my chest.

Azriel's lips found mine in a kiss so tender, so reverent, that it stole the breath from my lungs. He stayed inside me, his body pressed tightly to mine, as though he couldn't bear to let go just yet. And I didn't want him to.

Not now. Not ever.

Comment or reblog with a “💙” to be added to the general taglist!

General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glitterypirateduck @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @fauxdette @going-through-shit @glam-targaryen @hufflepuff-pa55 @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogerbarnesxx @azriels-shadowsinger @stinkinstuffie @sandramalikstyles-blog @sassyangel16 @lilah-asteria @starsinyourseyes @inloveallthetime @melsunshine @nighttimemoonlover @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @cumuluscranium @adharanotfound @azrielsmate3 @aelincaddel @hiddlestonspassionsackx @dee-writes-smut @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @pit-and-the-pen @mybestfriendmademe @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @circe143 @bubybubsters @joshysloshy @username199945 @ivy-34 @notsarareallynot @vixenshiftsvrs @aurorab99 @pey2618 @loving-and-dreaming @mmg777 @andreperez11 @thatacotargirl @123345566 @one-big-fangirl @moonslitluna @imyherondale @salvawhxres @bookishbabyyyy @anuttellaa @breadsticks2004 @azriels-human @mamita-vera @demetercabingreen-thumb @lorosette @daughterofthemoons-stuff @tothestarsandwhateverend @ahaha0246 @mellowmusings @mythicalcookie

1K notes · View notes

incognit0slut · 10 months ago

Text

Hypothetically

Chronically single, you suggest a pact with your best friend to start a family together when you turn forty.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x bau fem reader

Category: fluff/comfort

Warnings: marriage and baby talk, reader is insecure because she feels left out

A/n: This is my entry for the kid fic challenge by @imagining-in-the-margins! This was like a breath of fresh air from all the smut I’ve been writing

"Do you want to have a baby with me?"

The scalding coffee burned his tongue as your question lingered in the air. Spencer cleared his throat awkwardly and patted his chest, his eyes drifting towards you. "Uh... what?"

"Hypothetically," you replied, the tap of your pen echoing against the round table between you. "It's like a pact. If we're both still single in the future, we get married to one another and, well, start a family together."

Spencer felt the clamminess of his palms as he set his mug down, trying to steady himself. He considered you as one of the closest people in his life, if not his best friend, and he was accustomed to your random questions, but this sudden topic of conversation seemed to strike a nerve.

"Where..." he began, wiping his palm along his pants. "...where is this coming from?"

You shrugged casually, the tapping of your pen momentarily ceasing. "Just a thought. I mean, we're both at that age where these things start to cross our minds, right?"

Spencer swallowed, trying to push down the unease rising in his chest. "Yeah, I guess so," he muttered, but as he studied you, he noticed the tension in your shoulders. "Are you okay?"

Your gaze flickered away for a moment before you sighed, slumping against your chair.

"I have a wedding coming up this weekend." Spencer frowned, not understanding what you were trying to say. You continued, "And another one next week, and guess what? Two of my cousins are getting married next month."

"What does that have to do with...?" His voice trailed off as realization dawned on him. "Ah, I see."

But you weren't finished. Somehow, the thoughts that had lingered in your mind for the past few days spilled out right then and there, in the middle of broad daylight when you were supposed to be focusing on the case you were working on.

"And a close friend I went to high school with just gave birth while another friend from college announced she's two months pregnant. And look at me," you exclaimed, your arms flying around. "No wedding. No pregnancy. Spencer, I don't even have a boyfriend, heck, I forgot what it's like to go out on a date!"

He watched as your brow furrowed into a frown, and although your demeanor was all over the place, he couldn't help but notice how you still managed to look pretty.

"Spence?" You asked, nudging his leg with your foot under the table. "Are you listening to me?"

He blinked, momentarily pulled from his thoughts by your voice. "Sorry," he replied. "I'm listening."

You gave him a skeptical look, but the tension in your shoulders seemed to ease slightly as you leaned back in your chair.

"I just... I don't know, I feel like I'm left behind." You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "I mean, I'm happy for my friends and all, but sometimes it feels like everyone's moving forward but me. Like I'm stuck in this... this rut."

Spencer wasn't sure how to respond. On one hand, he knew how it felt to want something that seemed out of reach, but on the other hand, he felt like it wasn't his place to offer advice when he wasn't even sure what the future held for him.

"I get it," he finally said, trying to gather his thoughts. The least he could do was try to offer some comfort. "But just because you haven't reached those milestones yet doesn't mean you won't get there eventually."

"But what if it doesn't happen? What if I'm still all alone and nobody loves me when I'm gray and old?"

He frowned at you. "I'd still love you when you're gray and old."

"Platonically. You love me as much as you love JJ. Or Emily. Or Penny, or even Morgan." You leaned over the table. "I want to be loved passionately by someone who is head over heels for me, who can't imagine a life without me. I want to feel that kind of happiness."

His frown deepened. "I don't think you should find happiness in another person."

"You're missing the point," you groaned, crossing your arms. "I'm not saying I want to depend on someone else for my happiness. But is it too much to ask for someone to share it with? To feel like I'm someone's everything and not just another friend in the group?"

His expression softened as he listened, a sense of familiarity washing over him. He remembered feeling the same thing once, or maybe more than once; he wasn't sure. He had lost count of the times he felt his life was falling short.

But he realized the more he thought about the why—why was he so different? why couldn't he find love?—the more he felt worthless, and he hated that. So what was the best thing he did to ignore those thoughts?

Bury himself in work, because to him, pushing those feelings aside was easier than confronting them. But now, as he looked at you, it felt like he was seeing his own reflection and your words hit him harder than he expected.

"No," he quietly agreed. "It's not too much to ask for."

"I guess what I'm trying to say is... I'm tired of waiting for life to happen to me." Your gaze slowly met his. "So I came up with a plan."

His throat felt dry as he recalled how this conversation started in the first place. "The... baby plan?"

You nodded enthusiastically, sliding into the seat next to him.

"Think about it. If we're both still single when we're..." You paused, furrowing your brow as you did a quick calculation. "Forty? Yeah, let's say we're both still single when we're forty, with no partners, or like, no friends with benefits?"

You shook your head.

“Just... with no one in our lives—we get married. You and me."

He blinked, trying to process your proposal. It was unexpected, to say the least, but there was a strange logic to it that he couldn't quite shake. The idea of marrying his best friend as a backup plan was both absurd and oddly comforting.

"But what about... love?" he asked cautiously. "Wasn't that what you wanted?"

You paused, considering his question before responding. "I mean, I don't think it's impossible," you said, leaning back in your seat. "Haven't you ever heard of the saying, 'Marry your best friend'?"

His gaze lingered on you, his heart beating hard against his chest. "You're saying that we can fall in love?"

Your eyes met his, and a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Who knows?" you replied softly. "Stranger things have happened."

Spencer shouldn't entertain the possibility. After all, who knew what could happen in the future? It seemed like an absurd thought, but as he stared at you, it was hard not to imagine a life with you as his wife.

He imagined you in a white dress, walking down the aisle towards him with a radiant smile on your face. He pictured you both in the house you had just bought, dancing joyfully around the empty rooms as you unpacked boxes together.

Then thoughts of you being pregnant with his child—or maybe even children—filled his mind, and he envisioned a future where your kids would run around in the backyard with a pet dog trailing behind.

And then he considered the prospect of growing old with you, watching as your children eventually started families of their own while you found comfort in each other's company. All of these possibilities didn't seem so bad, because if anyone could understand him on a deep level, it was definitely you.

Maybe this crazy plan of yours wasn't so crazy after all.

"I... I guess it's not impossible," he finally admitted. Then, not wanting to seem too eager, he added, "Hypothetically speaking."

"Of course," you replied with a smile. "Hypothetically speaking."

Suddenly feeling flustered by your gaze, Spencer looked away and focused on his coffee, bringing the mug to his lips. Then you heard laughter and footsteps drawing closer, and soon Derek and Emily entered the room. Their eyes immediately landed on the two of you, sitting closely together at the table.

"What are you children whispering about?" Derek's voice interrupted, his eyebrows raised curiously as he glanced between you.

You didn't miss a beat. “Spencer and I are having a baby together."

Spencer choked on his coffee, his eyes widening in shock as he coughed and sputtered. You quickly moved to pat his back.

"Well, we're gonna get married first, right, Spence?" you added with a grin, glancing at him expectantly.

Spencer finally managed to regain his composure, clearing his throat awkwardly as he shot you a sideways glance. "Um, yeah, of course," he stammered, his cheeks still tinged with embarrassment. "Hypothetically."

Derek and Emily exchanged bemused glances, a silent conversation passing between them. Emily's curiosity seemed to win out as she lifted a hand, turning her attention back to you. "Care to explain?"

"We were discussing our backup plan."

"Backup plan?" Derek echoed.

"Yeah," you replied with a nod. "In case neither of us finds the right person by the time we're, oh, I don't know, forty or so, we figured we'd marry each other and start a family."

Derek placed a hand over his chest, feigning hurt. "And you chose Pretty Boy over me?"

"I'm not going to compete with all your lady friends," you shot back, rising from your seat. "Come on, Spence, let's grab some lunch and brainstorm baby names."

He stood up, giving you a pointed look.

"Or do you want to discuss how we'd make those babies in the future?"

"Well, I was thinking of Amelia if it's a girl..."

You grinned, linking your arm through his before guiding him towards the door. Derek and Emily observed the natural closeness between you two, how you were practically clinging to him and how he seemed to be comfortable with it.

Derek turned to Emily as you disappeared down the hallway. "Do you think they'd actually get married when they hit forty?"

Emily shook her head. "Nope," she replied confidently. "I give it a year until he's already down on one knee."

He laughed, nodding in agreement. With the way Spencer's gaze lingered on you with unmistakable affection, it seemed like it was only a matter of time.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic

5K notes · View notes

seokmattchuus · 8 months ago

Text

One Pact Masterlist

💜 - suggestive 🖤 - smut 🩵 - fluff 🩶 - angst 💚 - sad 🩷 - comedy

Jay as a dom 🩵?💜?

Special Treatment (Jongwoo) 🩵

#one pact masterlist #one pact #one pact imagines #one pact scenarios #one pact fluff #one pact smut #jay chang #jay chang imagines #jay chang scenarios #jay chang smut #yoon jongwoo #yoon jongwoo imagines #yoon jongwoo scenarios #yoon jongwoo fluff

3 notes · View notes

teaxeee · 5 months ago

Text

POOKIES!! MY ASKS ARE NOW OPEN SO SEND IN ANYTHING 👁️👁️ (did y'all miss me/j)

#zb1 smut #treasure smut #yedam smut #mashiho smut #boys planet smut #one pact smut #evnne smut #tiot smut

17 notes · View notes

strawberrywithchoco · 8 months ago

Text

Introduction to My Blog ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚

My name is Ace, I'm a Genderfluid Trans Male. I'm an 04 Liner. I'm Black and I'm Creole. I like to write, game, make art and music. I like Space, Kpop, YouTube videos and Anime. I mostly made this as a personal blog but I'm also going to write for TXT, Riize, P1harmony, One Pact and Treasure.

My MBTI is INFP...

I might add more groups later if anyone has suggestions tell me

I only have like five rules...

No Non Con

No incest

No Unnecessary bodily fluids

No Member × Member

No minors on my blog please

#acenotfound 19 speaks #acenotfound-19 speaks #strawberrywithchoco speaks #txt smut #tomorrow x together smut #riize smut #kpop smut #p1harmony smut #treasure smut #one pact smut

1 note · View note

mssalo · 4 months ago

Text

access

You and your husband, Joel, share a deep understanding - your body is his, to fuck and taste whenever he desires, without question or hesitation.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, free use dynamics, oral (f receiving), somnophilia (woken with head), getting fucked awake, rough possessive sex, Intense dirty talk, breeding kink, light choking and nipple play, cum play

5k, smut, one shot

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

The room was bathed in a soft, golden glow, the first rays of early morning sunlight slipping through the cracks in the curtains. Everything was still, the kind of quiet that comes just before the world begins to stir.

The air was warm, thick with a sense of calm, and the only sound breaking that silence was the slow, steady rhythm of your breathing as you lay beside him, deeply asleep. You looked peaceful, the blankets tangled loosely around your legs, your hair spilling across the pillow.

You were completely unaware of the storm building beside you.

Joel lay next to you, half-propped on one elbow, his gaze fixed on your body. The soft rise and fall of your chest as you breathed, the curve of your hips barely hidden beneath the sheets, the way your lips parted ever so slightly as you exhaled—all of it stirred a deep, familiar hunger in him. His eyes moved over you slowly, tracing every line, every curve, like he was memorizing the sight of you, though he had done it countless times before.

His cock was already hard, pressing insistently against the fabric of his boxers, the ache intensifying with every second he spent watching you. The urge to reach out and touch you, to feel your warmth beneath his fingers, was overwhelming. He wanted you, needed you, in that primal, all-consuming way that had woken him up in the first place.

You were beautiful—peaceful, serene, utterly unaware of the effect you had on him. But the heat building in his belly, the tightness in his groin, was becoming too much to ignore. His desire for you had grown with every second, and the free use pact you shared meant that he didn’t need to hold back. You were his to take whenever the need struck, and right now, that need was impossible to resist.

His hand hovered just above the sheets for a moment, hesitating only long enough to savor the anticipation. Then, slowly, he let his fingers brush lightly over the curve of your hip, the warmth of your skin seeping through the thin fabric of your sleepwear. His touch was featherlight at first, testing, waiting to see if you stirred. But you remained blissfully asleep, your body soft and pliant under his hand.

He grinned to himself, the heat inside him intensifying. His fingers traced a slow path down the length of your thigh, parting your legs ever so slightly, making space for him to take what was already his.

You shifted slightly, a soft murmur escaping your lips as his hand crept higher, brushing against your soft pussy. He groaned quietly, his breath hitching at the contact, his fingers exploring further. He could already feel the wetness gathering there, your body responding to him even in your sleep, and it sent a shiver of anticipation through him.

The room was still quiet, bathed in that soft morning glow, but the tension was palpable. Joel’s body was tense with desire, every nerve alive with the need to take you, to feel you, to bury himself deep inside you. And with the way you lay there, so peaceful, so completely his, there was no reason to wait any longer. You were his, and this morning, he was going to claim you all over again.

Without making a sound, he moved down the bed, the covers slipping away as he positioned himself between your legs. His eyes lingered on the way your thighs pressed together, how peaceful you looked in your half-awake state, blissfully unaware of what he had planned for you. He could already feel his cock twitch in anticipation.

Slowly, gently, he eased your legs apart, his hands warm against your skin as he spread you open, revealing the soft folds of your pussy glistening faintly in the dim light.

He didn’t rush, savoring the moment, his lips hovering just above your heat, close enough to feel the warmth of you but not touching yet. His breath ghosted over your skin, and you stirred lightly, but you didn’t wake, your body still pliant under his hands.

He grinned to himself, eyes dark with lust as he lowered his mouth to your cunt, his tongue darting out to taste the very tip of you.

The first contact was light, barely more than a teasing flick against your folds, but the taste of you already had him groaning softly against your skin.

His tongue flattened, dragging up the length of your pussy with slow, deliberate strokes, the heat and wetness of you making him dizzy with need.

He didn’t stop, his tongue swirling around your clit, flicking and sucking gently, each movement sending jolts of pleasure through your sleeping body.

You stirred again, a soft moan slipping from your lips as your hips shifted slightly against his mouth, but you still didn’t wake. He could feel you responding, feel the way your body was starting to tremble under his touch, and it only drove him wilder.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your soaked folds as he spoke. His voice was low, thick with lust, and the sound of it sent vibrations through you. “So fuckin’ sweet… always so perfect for me.”

He buried his face deeper between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs as he spread you wider.

His tongue slipped between your folds, licking deep into your heat, fucking you slowly with each stroke. You whimpered in your sleep, your body responding to the pleasure even if your mind was still clouded with sleep.

He groaned as he tasted you, his tongue delving into your slick, warm cunt, savoring every drop of arousal he coaxed from you.

“You’re already so wet for me,” he growled, his voice muffled as he sucked your clit into his mouth, teasing it with slow, wet kisses. “Even when you’re sleepin’, baby, your body knows what it wants.”

He licked you harder, his tongue swirling over your clit before dipping back down to flick against your entrance. He alternated between sucking on your sensitive bud and thrusting his tongue deep inside you, his lips and tongue working you over with practiced ease.

He could feel the tension building in your body, your thighs trembling around his head as he devoured you, his mouth relentless in its assault on your pussy.

He didn’t stop, didn’t slow down. His lips closed around your clit again, sucking harder now, his tongue flicking rapidly against the swollen bundle of nerves. Your hips bucked against him, a breathless moan escaping your lips as you finally started to wake up, the pleasure pulling you from the haze of sleep.

Your eyes fluttered open, and the first thing you felt was his mouth on you, his tongue licking and sucking with a desperation that made your toes curl.

Your body jerked in surprise, but he held you down, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he continued to eat you out like a man starved.

“Mornin‘, baby,” he murmured against your folds, his voice dripping with lust. “You’re gonna cum for me. I’m not stoppin’ until you do.”

You gasped, your fingers tangling in the sheets as he licked you faster, his mouth working you over with a precision that had you seeing stars.

His teeth grazed your clit lightly, just enough to send a sharp jolt of pleasure through your body, before he soothed the sting with his tongue, swirling it around your swollen bud until you were trembling beneath him.

He groaned, the vibrations of his voice sending shivers through you as he buried his tongue inside you again, fucking you with it in slow, deep strokes. His nose brushed against your clit, the friction making you cry out, and he growled against your pussy, his fingers digging into your thighs as he held you open for him.

“Fuck, baby,” he panted, his voice thick and rough as he licked you harder, faster. “I can feel how close you are. You’re gonna cum all over my tongue, aren’t you? Gonna soak my fuckin’ face.”

You whimpered in response, your body writhing beneath him as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak. His mouth was relentless, his tongue flicking against your clit in quick, sharp strokes that had you gasping for breath, your hands clutching at the sheets as your orgasm surged through you.

He moaned against you, his mouth still working your clit as you came, the taste of your release flooding his senses.

He didn’t stop, didn’t let up for a second as he licked you through your orgasm, his tongue swirling over your sensitive bud until you were a trembling mess beneath him.

“That’s it,” he growled, his lips brushing against your folds as he spoke. “Cum for me, baby. So fuckin’ good for me. I could eat this pussy all day.”

You were still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm when he finally pulled away, his lips and chin slick with your arousal as he moved back up your body. You barely had time to catch your breath before you felt the hard press of his cock against your entrance.

“Time to wake up, baby,” he whispered, his voice thick with need. “I’m not done with you yet.”

His cock slid inside you slowly, stretching you open as he filled you completely, the sensation overwhelming. His hands gripped your hips with possessive strength, holding you in place as he began to thrust, each deep, deliberate movement sending a shock of pleasure through your body.

His gaze darkened with lust, the intensity in his eyes making you shiver.

“You feel that?” he growled, his voice low and rough, his hips grinding into yours. “That’s my cock inside my perfect wife. You’re not just sweet —you’re mine to fuck, my own personal slut. Made for this.”

The way he said it, the ownership in his voice, made your body tighten around him, clenching his cock as if to keep him inside.

He leaned down, his chest pressing against yours, his breath hot against your skin.

His mouth found your nipple, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud before sucking it deep into his mouth. He bit down just hard enough to make you gasp, the sharp jolt of pleasure-pain only heightening the sensation of his cock pounding into you.

His other hand cupped your other breast, fingers pinching and rolling your nipple between them, the roughness driving you wild.

“Such perfect tits,” he groaned against your skin, his teeth grazing the swollen bud again before sucking harder. “These belong to me too—just like this pussy. I love the way your body reacts to me, how you beg for more without even saying a word.”

He shifted his hips, slamming into you harder, the rhythm relentless now, his thrusts deep and rough.

The bed creaked beneath the force of it, your body jolting with every powerful movement, and all you could do was moan, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through you.

“You love being mine, don’t you?” he rasped, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before moving to the other, biting down just enough to make you shudder. “You love knowing that I own you. My sweet little wife on the outside, but behind closed doors, you’re nothing but my filthy fuck toy.”

His words were so filthy, so degrading, but they only made your arousal spike higher. The dirty talk sent a rush of heat through you, your pussy squeezing around him as if begging for more.

“That’s right,” he growled, his pace quickening as he fucked you harder, his cock slamming into you with a raw, unfiltered intensity.

“I’m gonna fuck you until all you can think about is how good it feels to be filled by me. This is what you were made for—taking me, being mine, every inch of you.”

He shifted his weight slightly, freeing one hand from your breast to grab your throat, squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch. “I love seeing you like this,” he whispered against your ear, his voice rough and ragged.

“Begging for my cock, letting me use you however I want. You love being filled by me, don’t you? You love being my perfect little girl.“

His hand tightened around your throat as his thrusts became erratic, harder, more desperate.

He was close, you could feel it in the way his cock twitched inside you, the way his breathing became heavier, more labored. “You’re gonna cum for me again,” he commanded, his thumb brushing over your nipple in time with his thrusts.

“You’re gonna milk my cock while I fill you up, baby. I’m gonna breed you, fill you with every last drop.”

His cock throbbed inside you as he pounded relentlessly, the wet sounds of his body slamming into yours filling the room. His hand tightened around your throat, while his other hand gripped your breast, his fingers pinching your nipple hard, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through you.

He leaned down, biting at the soft skin of your neck before dragging his lips to your ear.

“You feel so good, hm?” he rasped, his voice dark and dripping with lust. “You love being owned like this. My perfect little girl, taking my cock like the slut you are for me.”

His thrusts grew deeper, harder, making you gasp with every movement, each one hitting the perfect spot inside you that made you tremble.

His lips wrapped around your nipple, sucking it deep into his mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud before he released it with a wet pop. He moved to the other breast, repeating the rough treatment, his eyes flicking up to watch your face as you moaned helplessly beneath him.

“You want me to fill you up, baby?” he growled, biting down gently on your nipple. “You want me to breed you, to fuck you full of my cum until it’s dripping out of you.”

The filthy words sent heat flooding through your body, your pussy clenching tighter around him, making him groan deep in his throat. His thrusts became more frantic, his hips slamming against yours as he fucked you harder, deeper.

“I’m gonna make you a mommy,” he snarled, his voice rough with lust. “You want that, sweet girl? You want me to fuck a baby into you? Want me to be your fuckin‘ daddy?”

His words made your mind spin, and you whimpered beneath him, the idea of him filling you, making you his in the most primal way, sending a fresh wave of arousal crashing through you.

“Yeah, you do.” he growled, his cock pounding into you with brutal force.

“You want me to fuck you so deep, to breed you, make you a mommy with my cum. You’re gonna take it all, every last drop, and I’m gonna fuck you until I’ve filled you up. You want a daddy to fuck you, huh? You want me to give you my baby?”

You couldn’t speak, could barely breathe, the pleasure overwhelming as his dirty words pushed you closer and closer to the edge. His hand tightened around your throat just a little more, and his pace quickened, his hips slamming into you with wild desperation.

“I’m gonna breed you, baby,” he growled, his breath hot against your ear. “I’m gonna fill this tight little pussy with my cum, make you mine forever. Gonna be your daddy and fuck you full until you’re dripping with it. You’ll be swollen with my baby, and you’ll love every second of it, won’t you?”

The tension snapped inside you, your orgasm hitting you like a wave, your body convulsing around his cock as you cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders.

Your pussy clenched hard around him, milking him for every drop, and he groaned deep in his chest, his cock twitching as he finally let go, his release crashing over him.

“Fuck,” he growled, his voice strained with pleasure as he buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he came hard, filling you with his cum. “Gonna make you mine, baby. Gonna fuckin’ make you a mommy. You’ll be carrying my baby, swollen with it.”

He stayed there for a moment, buried deep inside you, both of you panting as the aftershocks of pleasure washed over you. Slowly, he pulled out, his cum already starting to drip from your swollen pussy, and he watched with satisfaction, his hand sliding down to gently rub your lower belly.

“You’re gonna look so fucking perfect with my baby inside you,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before whispering, “You’re mine. And I’m gonna fill you up again and again, until you can’t think of anything but being my good little wife… and the mother of my children.”

Joel stayed buried in the moment for a few more seconds, his hand gently stroking your belly as if imagining what it would be like to see you swollen with his child.

His touch softened, his expression turning from the raw lust that had consumed him moments before into something much more tender, loving. His thumb brushed lightly over your skin, his eyes full of warmth as he looked down at you.

“Think it’ll stick this time, baby?” he asked, his voice quiet, but filled with hope.

You smiled softly up at him, reaching up to stroke his face. “I hope so, baby,” you whispered, your voice teasing but full of affection. “You’re certainly doing your best to make sure of it.”

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss your forehead, the sweetness of the gesture making your heart swell. “You enjoyed every second of it, huh?” His tone was playful now, the intensity from earlier fading into something much more comfortable, more intimate.

“Every second,” you replied, biting your lip as you added teasingly, “Daddy.”

A low growl rumbled from his chest, but it was playful, his hand swatting your thigh gently. “You’re gonna make me start all over again, talkin’ like that.” He leaned down, nipping at your neck in a way that made you giggle. “Stop it, I need to get to work.”

You laughed softly, still catching your breath from everything, and wrapped your arms around his neck for a brief moment before letting go. “Can you grab eggs on your way home later, baby?” you asked, the domestic request slipping easily into the conversation, as if nothing about the morning had been out of the ordinary.

Joel grinned down at you, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips before pulling back. “Of course, sweetheart,” he said softly. “But first, let’s get some coffee in us. Come on.” He gently nudged your legs apart and got up, offering his hand to pull you with him.

You accepted his hand and climbed out of bed, feeling the warm, comforting domesticity settle between you both like a cozy blanket. As the two of you headed to the kitchen, Joel kept one arm around your waist, holding you close as he moved about, getting the coffee started.

“Can’t believe I’ve got to leave this behind and go to work,” he said, shaking his head as he looked you up and down with an affectionate smile. “All this bliss - my woman teasin’ me with her ‘daddy’ talk, and I gotta put on a construction hat.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes as you nudged him playfully. “You’ll be home before you know it. Maybe we can pick up where we left off.”

Joel gave you a sly grin, pulling you into his chest for a brief, but warm kiss. “Don’t tempt me, sweetheart.” His voice was teasing but full of affection as he kissed the top of your head. “I might just quit and come back early.”

“Don’t you dare,” you laughed. “We need those eggs.”

Joel chuckled, reaching for the mugs as the coffee finished brewing. “Alright, alright, eggs it is. But tonight—” he leaned down to whisper in your ear, his voice a playful growl, “we’re pickin’ up where we left off. No escapin’ that.”

You smiled up at him, your heart full as he handed you your cup of coffee. “Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.”

· · ───

After Joel left for work, the house grew quiet, filled only with the soft hum of daily life. You went through the motions—cleaning up the breakfast dishes, folding some laundry, and putting away the little things that needed tidying. As the day passed, you couldn’t help but think of Joel, out there working hard, pushing through the long hours, his body no doubt aching from the labor.

You knew that when he came home, he would need you. That’s how it was with him—he carried the weight of the day on his shoulders, and by the time he stepped through the door, he was ready to let it all out.

By late afternoon, you decided to unroll your yoga mat in the living room, letting the warm light of the setting sun fill the space as you moved through your poses. The deep stretches pulled tension from your muscles, and for a moment, you were completely lost in the rhythm of your breathing, your body relaxing into the poses.

You didn’t hear the front door open, didn’t notice Joel coming home early. You were in a deep bend, eyes closed, when you felt the familiar presence behind you.

Before you could straighten, his hands were on your hips—firm, possessive, the way they always were when he came home after a long day. He didn’t speak at first, just a low, throaty grunt as he tugged you back into him.

You could feel the heat of his body, the intensity rolling off him like a storm, and before you could even process what was happening, he yanked your leggings down in one swift motion, leaving you completely exposed.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel muttered, his voice rough and thick with that familiar drawl. “You have no idea what kind of day I’ve had.”

His hands slid roughly over your hips, gripping you tightly as he leaned down, his breath hot against the back of your neck.

You didn’t have time to say a word before he freed himself from his jeans, pushing them down just enough to press his hard cock against your entrance. The anticipation made your body tighten in response, and you could feel your own arousal building as he held you there, hovering just at the edge of control.

“All damn day,” he growled, his voice low and strained, “all I’ve been thinkin’ about is gettin’ home, bendin’ you over, and takin’ you like this.”

With that, he thrust into you, filling you completely in one rough, deep stroke. You gasped, your body arching as he stretched you wide, his cock slamming into you with an intensity that made you dizzy. Joel didn’t ease into it—he took you hard, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you back against him with each brutal thrust.

“Goddamn,” he groaned, his voice tight as he drove into you again and again. “This is what I need. All day, bustin’ my ass, and I come home to this tight little pussy waitin’ for me.”

The words were filthy, but there was a rawness to them, a desperate need that you could feel in every thrust of his hips.

He was letting everything out, the tension of the day pouring into you with every stroke of his cock. You could barely breathe, the pleasure and intensity of it all overwhelming as he used your body, his movements relentless, demanding.

“You’re always so fuckin’ perfect for me,” Joel growled, his hands sliding up your body, rough fingers grazing your skin as he yanked your tank top down, exposing your breasts.

His hands moved to your chest, grabbing your breasts roughly, his thumbs brushing over your nipples before pinching them hard. The mix of pain and pleasure sent shockwaves through your body, and you whimpered beneath him, completely at his mercy.

“Look at you,” he muttered, his voice low and dark as his hips slammed into yours, his cock filling you over and over.

“Always so good for me. I work my ass off all day, and this—this is what I need when I come home. My sweet girl, just lettin’ me take what’s mine.”

There was a tenderness hidden beneath the raw desire, the way he spoke to you like you were his safe haven, the one place where he could let go of everything. But his actions were anything but soft.

He gripped your hips tighter, pulling you back onto his cock with a force that made you moan, your body trembling as the pleasure built higher and higher.

“You don’t know how much I need this,” Joel groaned, his pace quickening as his cock slammed into you harder, deeper. “You, here, ready for me every damn day. Letting me fuck you just like this. I don’t deserve you.”

You whimpered in response, the intensity of his words and his movements driving you closer to the edge. He was rough, unrelenting, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you with every thrust. The tension in your belly coiled tighter and tighter as his hands roamed your body, his grip possessive, his touch demanding.

“Goddamn,” he grunted, his voice rough as his pace became even more frantic, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

“Gonna fuckin’ fill you up, baby. Gonna empty my fuckin’ balls inside you until you’re dripping with me.”

His words sent a shiver through you, and your body responded, tightening around his cock as the pleasure built to a peak.

You couldn’t hold back anymore—the tension snapped, and your orgasm crashed over you, your body trembling as you came hard around him. Your pussy clenched tight, and Joel groaned, his grip on you tightening as he felt your release.

“Fuck,” he growled, his thrusts becoming erratic, more desperate. “I’m gonna fill you up so good, baby. You’re mine.”

With a final, deep thrust, Joel buried himself inside you, his cock throbbing as he came, spilling his hot cum deep inside you. The warmth of it spread through you, and you shuddered, still trembling from your own release as he held you there, his chest pressed against your back, both of you panting.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. Joel stayed inside you, his breathing ragged, the rough edges of his desire finally softening.

But when he pulled out, his eyes darkened again, watching as his cum started to drip from your swollen pussy, a low, filthy groan escaping his throat.

“Don’t you dare let it go to waste,” he muttered, his hand suddenly firm on your lower back, pushing you down slightly so you were exposed to him fully. “Push it out for me, baby. Let me see it.”

You whimpered, your body still trembling from the intensity of everything, but you did as he said, pushing his thick cum out of you, feeling it leak from your entrance. Joel’s eyes were locked on the sight, his gaze filled with raw hunger.

“Good girl,” he growled, his hand sliding down to gather the dripping cum on his fingers. Without warning, he pressed two fingers back into you, forcing his release back inside, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips as you gasped at the sudden sensation.

“You’re gonna keep it in there,” he commanded, his voice low and rough as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out, spreading the warmth of his cum inside you again.

“I’m not done with you yet. Not until I make sure you’re filled.”

As you clenched around his fingers, still sensitive from everything, he pulled them out and raised them to your lips. His eyes locked with yours, dark and full of intent. “Open,” he ordered softly, pressing the cum-covered fingers to your mouth.

You obeyed, parting your lips and letting him slide his fingers inside, the taste of him filling your mouth as his thumb brushed over your bottom lip. “Suck ‘em clean, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice both tender and commanding, watching as you did exactly that, his gaze softening just enough to make your heart flutter despite the intensity.

“Good girl. You don’t know how good you are to me,” he said quietly, his voice now a mix of gratitude and desire as he watched you.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, the roughness from earlier replaced with a deep, tender affection.

You smiled softly, his fingers still in your mouth as your eyes met his. “I’m always here for you, daddy.”

He chuckled low in his throat, pulling you closer into his chest, his breath warm against your hair. “Don’t know what I’d do without you, baby.”

After a moment of stillness, Joel slowly helped you up, his hands gentle but firm, lingering on your skin with a touch that made your body tingle. His eyes softened as they met yours, and the intense hunger from earlier melted into something warmer, more intimate. He guided you toward the bathroom, that teasing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Come on,” he said, his voice low and affectionate. “Let’s get you all cleaned up, darlin’. Can’t leave my girl like this.”

You smiled, leaning into him as you walked, feeling the heat of his body still close to yours. Once inside the bathroom, you couldn’t resist a playful grin as you remembered the errand you’d sent him on. “So… did you get the eggs I asked for?”

Joel chuckled, his deep voice vibrating against you. “Yeah, fresh from the farm, just like you wanted. Thought of you the whole damn time,” he added, his tone dropping suggestively. “All I could think about was how you were gonna thank me for ‘em.”

You bit your lip, feeling the familiar heat return between you as he stood close, his fingers brushing your hip. “Well, I can’t wait to try that new recipe. You’re gonna love it.”

Joel leaned in, his lips grazing your ear. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll love whatever you’ve got cookin’. But let’s not pretend I’m not thinkin’ about that other way you thank me, baby,” he murmured, his voice dripping with that familiar, playful growl.

His hand slipped around your waist, pulling you closer as he added with a grin, “But first… let’s get you cleaned up. I need you fresh and ready for later.”

You laughed softly, your body warming under his touch, even as you let him guide you into the shower. The water was warm, cascading over your skin as Joel’s hands followed, his fingers gentle but still teasing, touching you with an ease that made your heart flutter.

His hands slid over your body, but every once in a while, he would pause—his touch lingering just long enough to make you tremble.

“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he said, his voice softer now, filled with affection as he washed away the day from your skin. “Don’t know what I’d do without you here to come home to.”

You smiled, leaning your head back into his chest.

Joel let out a small hum of satisfaction, his lips brushing your shoulder as his hands continued their slow exploration of your body. He wasn’t rushing, savoring every second of the intimacy between you, even as you could feel the undercurrent of playfulness in his touch.

His hands slid down your stomach, stopping just short of teasing you further, and you let out a playful whine.

“Not yet, darlin’,” he whispered with a chuckle. “We’ve got dinner to make first.”

As you stepped out of the shower, Joel wrapped you in a soft towel, pulling you close for another lingering kiss. You could feel the warmth of his love in every gesture, even in the way he gently brushed the wet strands of hair away from your face.

“So, what’s this recipe that’s got you so excited?” he asked, his voice light and teasing as he led you toward the kitchen.

“A new quiche recipe,” you said, feeling your excitement return. “I’ve been wanting to try it for a while.”

Joel grinned, his eyes sparkling with affection and mischief. “Quiche, huh? You sure you ain’t just makin’ it so I’ve got something to eat after I’ve worked you up again?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes at him. “Maybe it’s a little of both. I’ve got to keep you satisfied one way or another.”

He stepped up behind you as you pulled out the ingredients, his hands sliding around your waist, pulling you back against him. “You know I’m already more than satisfied,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the side of your neck. “But I won’t complain if you keep spoilin’ me.”

You leaned into him, your head resting back against his shoulder. “Well, you deserve it after a hard day’s work.”

“That I do,” Joel whispered, his hands roaming again, teasing but not pushing. “But I can’t wait for dessert.”

You laughed, swatting him playfully. “Patience, cowboy. Dinner first.”

Joel chuckled, his breath warm against your neck. “Yeah, yeah,” he teased, stepping back to let you work, though his eyes followed your every movement. “But later… you and me, baby. Quiche ain’t gonna be the only thing I’m devouring.”

You glanced over your shoulder with a smirk, the playful heat between you always simmering, always alive. “I’ll hold you to that.”

As you continued to prepare dinner, the warmth between you two lingered in the air. It wasn’t just in the way he looked at you with that teasing grin, but in the domestic ease you both shared—the simple joy of being together, of teasing and loving one another, no matter what the day had thrown your way.

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

3K notes · View notes

loserlvrss · 2 years ago

Text

僕ら青嵐. 恐れさえ巻き込み. 人生 all or nothing. すべて賭けた, journey. 託したい僕らの夏を,この期待. 君こそが僕の, 確かな pride 色褪せない. #. loserlvrss masterlist masterlist : request status : 0 / 34

000. &team ( エンティーム )

stars in your eyes - jo

serendipity - euijoo

forever's not long enough - nicholas

000. the boyz ( 더보이즈 )

thirsty - sunwoo (mdni)

000. nct ( 엔시티 )

get you - jeno (mdni)

no one but you - mark

the moment after waking up - mark

flour - jisung

fifteen minutes - chenle (mdni)

love language - haechan

000. boynextdoor ( 보이넥스트도어 )

hot grill summer - sungho

fight! - leehan (mdni)

000. ateez ( 에이티즈 )

locked door - yunho (mdni)

diet pepsi - san (mdni)

000. xdinary heroes ( 엑스디너리 히어로즈 )

black nails & lana del rey - hyeongjun

fatherly love - ot6

000. stray kids ( 스트레이 키즈 )

buzzcut season - hyunjin

000. verivery ( 베리베리 )

green grass, gray skies - kangmin

hate to be lame - gyehyeon

000. p1harmony ( 피원하모니 )

did you like her in the morning? - jongseob

000. enhypen ( 엔하이픈 )

sick - jake

oxytocin - jake (mdni)

one in the same - sunghoon (mdni)

214 notes · View notes

wilonevys · 4 months ago

Text

𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 (𝟏/𝟐)

the list of the smaus i've read and liked so far!

completed ✔️ - discontinued/on hold ❌ personal favourites 💎 - ongoing 🟩 - smut/nsfw 🔞

note: any smau that hasn’t been updated in over a year will be considered discontinued.

en- sunghoon and maknae line smau recs click HERE!

txt smau recs click HERE!

sorry for the tags!

links are under the cut!

hyung line/multiple

𓆩♡𓆪 « confident » ✔️ 💎 🔞 by @bambisgirl

SYNOPSIS. after graduating high-school and having a major glow-up over summer, you became more confident in yourself and got the title of the most popular girl at decelis university in your first week of freshman year. you instantly dethroned all of the sophomore girls, on top of being so pretty, kind, smart and sexy… girl you have it all. yet you’re still the same kind, naïve and funny y/n that can’t refuse anyone coming her way. after all, you know what they say… confidence makes a girl sexy but kindness is key!

𓆩♡𓆪 « no nut november » ✔️ 🔞 by @jayflrt

SUMMARY ▸ four men suppressing their carnal instincts for thirty days doesn’t sound plausible, but it’s no nut november, so victory is crucial. yet, there’s only one obstacle keeping lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, and park sunghoon from their prize: you. game on, boys.

𓆩♡𓆪 « to do: find a boyfriend » 🟩 by @seokgyuu

being single for three and a half years all of your friends are tired of your constant whining. while your girlfriends want you to just get laid, your boy-friends, on the other hand, just think you should pick one of them to date. ignoring them all, you instead decide to try out a dating app to find your match.

𓆩♡𓆪 « r u online? » ❌ (on hold) 💎 by @hoonvrs

SYNOPSIS seems like there’s a small problem between the four best friends when they each find themselves crushing on the same girl. now it’s left up to you to decide who’s your endgame.

𓆩♡𓆪 « zoom » ❌ 💎 🔞 by @enhas-bestie

SYNOPSIS: In which Y/N has a zoom meeting and it turns out that her TA! is incredibly hot. Things escalate. Chaos ensures.

lee heeseung

𓆩♡𓆪 « buy one, take me » ✔️ by @heeracha

synopsis: with his best friend asking him for help because said best friend was scared he wasn't "boyfriend material" enough, heeseung looks for flower shops for his best friend's girlfriend. thankfully, jake knows someone from the university who has an aunt that owns a flower shop, you. now, heeseung messages you and shyly, but shamelessly asks if he can get any promos or discounts to which you shamelessly answered him, "buy one, take me". heeseung doesn't pass on this, of course. after all, you are pretty damn cute.

𓆩♡𓆪 « you, me and the moon » ✔️ by @heeracha

synopsis: lee heeseung is a famous frat boy who is known to be mysterious since he would always stay at the corner to observe people passing by but he does not like the fact that his eyes would linger a little longer on you than he likes to admit because who the fuck is he kidding? you're way too good for him.

𓆩♡𓆪 « so sick ! » ✔️ 💎 by @yeonjunszn

summary: when your boyfriend of almost eight years cheats on you your senior year of university, you decide that you’re done with anything and everything to do with love. that is, until you meet a guy who sings love songs for a living.

𓆩♡𓆪 « hands on you » ✔️ 💎 by @thatfeelinwhenyou

IN WHICH; I-LAND 2 happened and you debuted first place as the leader of LUMIÈRE. Having been told that your group is involved in a lore crossover with ENHYPEN, you navigate work, friendship, and love while trying to make it in an industry filled with animosity and condemnation. When life throws you lemons, you gotta make lemonades chuck it right back!

𓆩♡𓆪 « the revenge pact » ✔️ by @boyfhee

synopsis: lee heeseung is the handsome yet good for nothing mysterious boy living a floor below you, who dropped out of college and is living quite a lavish life. when you get fired from your job, ending up struggling to make your ends meet and failing to pay the rent, heeseung offers you rather an eccentric proposal : pay the rent or be his girlfriend.

𓆩♡𓆪 « sugar daddy » ✔️ 💎 by @jayflrt

SUMMARY ▸ in which heeseung accidentally becomes your sugar daddy, but funding a sugar baby is hard when you’re a broke college student.

𓆩♡𓆪 « a stoner's guide to starbucks » ✔️ 💎 by @jayflrt

SUMMARY ▸ in which you work at the starbucks where heeseung is a regular at (and considered a public enemy). also he only goes when he’s stoned off his ass.

𓆩♡𓆪 « poison » ✔️ 🔞 by @onlyjaeyun

synopsis: new city, new people, a new life. after finally getting the chance to live your dreams, you're ready to close old chapters, only for a certain someone who's always been off limits to open again...

𓆩♡𓆪 « verboten » ✔️ 🔞 by @heesbaby

SYNOPSIS; a bad stroke of luck saw lee heeseung, your dads coworker, moving into your small apartment until he found his feet again. emotionally unavailable and a workaholic, you were going to try your absolute hardest to make him loosen up. even if it meant breaking a few of the house rules he'd set out.

𓆩♡𓆪 « anonymous » ✔️ 🔞 by @heesbaby

synopsis: heeseung had been your biggest supporter for months under the pseudonym ethan, sending you money in return for content and interactions. he stuck around, spending half his paycheck just for your attention, until the delusions of your work convinced him you were his.

𓆩♡𓆪 « a little dramatic » 🟩 by @heeliopheelia

yn: knock knock

heeseung: who's there?

yn: your annoying best friend

heeseung: your annoying best friend who?

yn: your annoying best friend who has to do a kissing scene in the school play but she's never been kissed before and needs you to teach her how to do it so that she doesn't make a fool out of herself in front of her crush

...in other words heeseung's down bad, yn is an idiot in denial and riki gives everyone a headache.

𓆩♡𓆪« trainees » 🟩 💎 by @hoonvrs

SYNOPSIS heeseung wasn’t known as ‘the ace’ for nothing, constantly ranking number one after every monthly evaluation. then suddenly a new name takentakes over first place — baek ‘Rin’, and heeseung doesn’t take lightly to competition.

𓆩♡𓆪 « fancam » ❌ 💎 by @bambisgirl

SYNOPSIS. you’re a rookie camerawoman for kpop music shows and you’re designed to film lee heeseung’s focused fancams for this enhypen comeback. you know he’s just an idol but… you spent $500 on a 4k mirrorless full frame 12.1 mp camera just to catch a better glimpse of him.

𓆩♡𓆪 « reality check » ❌ 💎 by @yunverse

SYNOPSIS › Shocked by the sudden revelations, yn realizes that she has been pulled into another world belonging to her favourite reverse-harem novel as the female lead’s best friend. Content with her new life, she excitedly watches from the sidelines knowing every single encounter in the novel would be unravelling right in front of her. However, as time goes on, she slowly comes to the horrifying realization that the characters she seemingly idolized are not who they seem to be.

𓆩♡𓆪 « nevertheless, (ft. park jay) » ❌ by @postalenha

SYNOPSIS, after a horrendous break up, you met a guy at a bar. you two instantly clicked and got close the whole night, so close that the two of you almost kissed. but you ran off, and planned to never see him again. but what will happen if one day, a commotion started at your university; girls going crazy over the new handsome guy in fashion design. and there you see the man standing with a butterfly tattoo on his nape. the same man from the bar, looking for you.

park jongseong

𓆩♡𓆪 « adore you » ✔️ 💎 by @enzenwriting

Summary: Debuting as BE:LIFT Lab’s next solo artist, you reunite with your best friend Jungwon in Enhypen! With the groups’ quick fondness towards you, a certain member is sure he adores you extra with brotherly and senior care! But what if Jay finds that this doting is unlike his feeling towards his younger members because he definitely does not want to kiss Yang Jungwon like he does to you?!

𓆩♡𓆪 « reparations » ✔️ (short smau) 💎 by @jayflrt

SUMMARY ▸ in which jay is a dog.

𓆩♡𓆪 « deuce! » ✔️ 💎 by @jaeminvore

summary: one may ask, what would happen if you put a prodigy and a hard worker in one room? Absolute chaos. Jay and Y/N absolutely hated each other’s guts. Having been rivals from middle school until present, it’s a cruel twist of fate that they ended up going to the same university years later. To make matters even worse, both have been selected as captains for the men’s and women’s volleyball team respectively.

The coaches, the managers—hell, both teams knew they had to put an end to this ridiculous beef as they were slowly tarnishing the esteemed reputation of both teams, but the question is: how?

𓆩♡𓆪 « strictly business » ✔️ 🔞 💎 by @onlyjaeyun

synopsis: two people, two different stories, two different hearts, one capital city. a story in which a young secretary from a small town manages to bring a new breath of fresh air into the life of seoul's most famous and untouchable ceo.

𓆩♡𓆪 « more than this » ✔️ 🔞 by @heesbaby

in a society where hybrid's were still made to feel like nothing, you wanted to show jay how much more he was worth

𓆩♡𓆪 « are you blackmailing me? » ✔️ by @liliansun

Synopsis: Jay has his eyes on you, but you couldn’t care less. When he finally musters up the courage to speak to you, you ask him about his friend instead. In attempts to salvage his chance, he agrees to help you if you help him in return.

𓆩♡𓆪 « 21st century girl » ✔️ 💎 by @hoonvrs

SYNOPSIS where jay 'claims’ he has a girlfriend but none of his friends believe him because how are you a girl in the 21st century and don't have any social media, right? and if you and jay continue to let them think your relationship is fake for entertainment purposes, nobody has to know.

𓆩♡𓆪 « yours forever in 786 » 🟩 🔞 by @jayflrt

SUMMARY ▸ after being blackmailed into accepting an assignment, jay park, a young private detective, is thrown back into college. this time, though, he’s at an ivy league and tasked to follow you to uncover what dark secrets your old money family is hiding. in doing this, jay must fraternize with your inner circle by joining a secret society called the "order of kryptos.” what he doesn’t realize is that the deeper he gets into his mission, the more he starts to lose himself.

𓆩♡𓆪 « knock me down » ❌ 💎 by @nekkodiaries

SUMMARY: park jay lives life as a hot-headed gamer by day and.. well.. still a hot-headed gamer by night— except he secretly goes by the name killstrike. after losing a pubg duo match, he finds himself trash-talking his teammate notursniper, who happens to be the mysterious classmate he's been admiring for over a year and more.

𓆩♡𓆪 « friendzoned » ❌ by @szniki

summary! - nishimura yn has been pining for her best friend jay park since 7th grade, but she’s well aware that jay will continue to be oblivious and had accepted that she’s stuck in the friendzone, that is until she befriends a foreign exchange student from australia and jay can’t help but feel jealous over how quick yn and her new friend are bonding

𓆩♡𓆪 « can i call you tonight? » ❌ by @heesbaby

yn needs money. that’s the only reason she keeps agreeing to babysit jay’s son each week. nothing was ever going to blossom out of it, not with jay - a workaholic 6 years older than her. she keeps telling herself that every time his smile lingers a little too long on his lips, but each time she dials his number into her phone, he picks up before the second ring.

𓆩♡𓆪 « nevertheless, (ft. lee heeseung) » ❌ by @postalenha

sim jaeyun

𓆩♡𓆪 « the world's a little blurry » ✔️ by @0x1lovebot

synopsis: having feelings for someone who’s in a relationship is already so hard to deal with. so imagine jake’s struggle when the taken girl that he’s had feelings for for years comes to him for help in physics. will he actually move on or will the lines start to blur between tutoring and romance?

𓆩♡𓆪 « doctors orders » ✔️ 💎 🔞 by @heesbaby

synopsis. jake was a little concerned by how often you were sat in his waiting room, but he couldn't deny how he searched his appointment list each morning hoping to see your name

𓆩♡𓆪 « after hours » ✔️ 💎 🔞 by @heesbaby

SYNOPSIS; jake sim, bassist of AFTERHOURS and all round terrible guy, so deep in his self absorbed world where everything went his way and everyone fell at his feet. he hardly noticed you moving in next door until he caught a glimpse of you in the hallway. completely uninterested in your neighbour, you did you best to ignore his advances. that was until you found yourself humming along to the songs he practiced every night.

𓆩♡𓆪 « hype boy » ✔️ 💎 🔞 by @onlyjaeyun

synopsis: after years of hiding himself in the responsibility of raising his youngest brother, jaeyun finally finds himself falling head over heels for the sweet college student from next door...

𓆩♡𓆪 « maybe we could be together » ✔️ 💎 by @jaeminvore

summary: in which Y/N has already accepted the fact that she will never be anything more than a best friend to Jake. She’s fine. She’s kept it all together for so long. However, Sunoo is a force to reckon with and he will do anything in his power to get Jake and Y/N together—Oh, and not to mention Sunoo really hates Jake’s current girlfriend, much to the annoyance of Y/N.

𓆩♡𓆪 « nights with you » ✔️ by @nvertheless

sypnosis — jake sim couldn’t sleep at night. with the stress of school taking over him he wasn’t able to fall asleep anymore.. until he gets recommend a nightly lofi channel to fall asleep to and it works really well for him.. not knowing your the owner of that nightly lofi channel.. and u possibly have the biggest crush on jake..

𓆩♡𓆪 « cigarettes » ✔️ 💎 by @hoonvrs

SYNOPSIS where university student jake develops a little crush on the girl he sees with a cigarette between her lips in the smoking area and decides he needs to impress her. how else would he do that except calling his smoker friend to teach him how to smoke ( spoiler: it doesn’t go so well. )

𓆩♡𓆪 « boomerang » ✔️ 💎 by @amakumos

SYNOPSIS: you and jake sim have always been academic rivals. it was always you against him for top of the class, and jake is sure that you two were made to hate each other. a couple years later when you debut and become an idol, you find yourself talking to him again - but it’s in a group chat with other aussie idols, and perhaps you realise that he isn’t that insufferable.

𓆩♡𓆪 « equation for disaster » ✔️ 💎 by @amakumos

SYNOPSIS — much to you and your boyfriend jake’s delight, there’s going to be a math championship for idols now. with both of you hellbent on winning, you two decide to be rivals again for just a little while. may the best star-crossed hater win. (the sequel to boomerang.)

𓆩♡𓆪 « collie duty » ✔️ by @filmbyjy

SYNOPSIS > being the new CEO to the ‘Sim Corp’ was hard and stressful. jake didn’t have much time to spend with layla and so he decides to get a dogsitter, you. though, you were originally already his secretary. how will dog sitting bring you two closer?

𓆩♡𓆪 « one note » 🟩 by @filmbyjy

SYNOPSIS > When you turned 18, you heard your best friend’s favourite song. Turns out, it was just one of the various signs to finding your soulmate. However, you couldn’t bring this up to jake. Not when he was in a happy relationship with your other best friend! Would you choose heartbreak or sacrifice your happiness for the sake of keeping the friendship

𓆩♡𓆪 « consequences of a one night stand » ✔️ 💎 🔞 by @luvyeni

( synopsis ). in which after a drunken hookup , y/n y/ln and are jake left with some heavy consequences and now they have to come to terms with it.

𓆩♡𓆪 « all about you » ✔️ by @heeliopheelia

synopsis: finding it harder and harder to keep your feelings hidden from one of your best friends, with each day you become more restless. with the confession constantly resting on the tip of your tongue, you wonder how much longer you’ll be able to keep your sweet secret to yourself. little did you know, the exact same question has been haunting jake’s mind, keeping him just as unsettled as you.

𓆩♡𓆪 « cat & dog » ❌ by @yeongwonie

SYNOPSIS a year after his notorious 10 months ending fairy, jake is confident that the occasional jokes and furry allegations have subsided. he's wrong, unfortunately, and no amount of teasing from his members could've prepared him for his ult—you—seeing the video.

𓆩♡𓆪 « lucid dream » ❌ 💎 by @yyunari

SYNOPSIS . many might recognize y/n as one of the most beloved and rounded 4th generation idols. being in aespa brought her a lot of popularity and made her really well known, especially for her talents and bubbly personality. when y/n becomes a music bank mc along with enhypen’s sunghoon, what will happen when she meets her old high school crush from back in australia?

𓆩♡𓆪 « cupid's cure » ❌ by @amakumos

synopsis. as the new admins of cupid’s corner, gunwook and eunchae make it their mission to get back some of the couples that jungwon’s girlfriend had unintentionally broken up. one of the couples on their list are you and jake sim, also known as the self proclaimed “rizzler of oz”. you haven’t talked to jake since the breakup — because one, you don’t think you’re quite over him yet, and two, you have zero reason to speak to him! that is, until eunchae works her “magic” — she decides to post a confession (apparently coming from jake himself), saying that he still loves you.

𓆩♡𓆪 « pinky promise » ❌ by @sunboki

THE LAST SUMMER you spent with Jake Sim was the beginning of a disaster and it all began with a pinky promise. You left Australia a few days before high school to become a trainee under BigHit Entertainment, sending you far away from home, from Jake. Well, you didn’t know it back then, but Jake had also come to Korea as a trainee a year later, and fate worked its magic when you’re both selected as KBS MC’s together. The pinky promise in question? A promise to be together till the end.

note: sunghoon and maknae line smaus will be on another post! tumblr being a bitch and doesn't let me add more links :(

1K notes · View notes