#sorry *drops fic and runs (to bed)*
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lillypad910 · 1 month ago
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Such a Good Girl
Dom! Eddie Munson x Sub! Girly! Reader
Warnings: (not pre-read well, apologize for some errors, I wrote his half awake) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! smut, fingering, oral (f & m receiving), piv, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), bit of fluff, reader is an "innocent" slut (I'm not sorry about it), pet names (Bunny, Baby), Kinks (breeding, sub/dom relationship, reader has a pile of stuffed animal that he literally fucks her on, have fun lol)
Summary: Eddie sneaks into your window to find you getting ready for bed. But he was other plans for your evening.
A/n: I wrote this half asleep and it is pure filth. I haven't written smut in a HOT minute and this was me kind of getting a practice run to write the smut for a later fic with a certain character reader I fear people are BEGGING from this blog. Enjoy!
If you wanna be tagged when I post ask or comment telling me so!
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All Pics from Pinterest!
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Eddie parks his car down the road, not wanting to alarm your parents with his van sitting outside. He walks all the way up to your house, jumping your white picket fence and making his way towards the backyard. He knows which window is yours, having snuck in a few times before. He climbs up the lattice on the side of the brick wall of your house, making his way up to your window. He places his feet firmly on the roof that sticks out, looking into your window.
There you are, his beautiful sweet girl, brushing your hair at your vanity. Your cute flowy nightgown makes you look like you stepped right out of a 1960’s magazine. Your window is open a bit, letting in the cool air of the night.
He knocks on the glass, startling you a bit and almost making your drop your hair brush. You turn and immediately smile at him. You walk over and open the window more, letting the rocker inside. “Hi, Eddie.” You giggle as he stumbles in, nearly tripping over your lace curtains. “Hi, sweetheart.” He straightens himself out before closing the window, “you look cute.” Your cheeks flush a bit at the compliment. You aren’t used to compliments yet, but Eddie is determined to make sure you know your worth.
“I’m sorry for coming so late, were you about to go to bed?” He asks, glancing over at the pink comforter with multiple stuffed animals on it. You shake your head, climbing onto the bed and grabbing one of the plushies, holding them close to your heart. It was one he got you, a little bunny with big floppy ears, Mr Flospy is what you named him.
Eddie sits on the edge of the bed, reaching over and pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t wanna keep you up, Princess, you need your beauty sleep.” You look up at him, your eyes glistening a bit in the light from your bedside lamp. “But you just got here…” Eddie smiles and holds out his arms, and you immediately tackle him in a hug, Mr Flopsy still in your arms. “I don’t want you to go, please stay.” You nuzzle your nose into his neck, and he hums, enjoying the feeling. “Bunny,” the nickname earns a whimper from you, it’s your favorite, “you said you want me to stay?” He clarifies, leaning you back into your stuffies. You nod, holding Mr Flopsy to your chest.
“Bunny,” Eddie leans over you and kisses your forehead, “have you been a good girl?” You nod again, your thighs pressing together. “Use your words, sweetheart.” “Y-Yes… I’ve been a good girl…!” Eddie loves these moments, your cheeks flushed and beautiful eyes blown. “Hmm,” he leans down and kisses your soft pink lips, he can tell you have on a cherry chapstick. He kisses you a few times, earning little whimpers from you, before moving down your jaw and neck.
“E-Eddie…” you grip at his vest, legs already getting shaky and he hasn’t even done anything other than kiss you. “Bunny, relax, you’re working yourself up.” He runs his palms over your thighs, securing his hips in between them. “Such a pretty girl,” he nibbles a bit at your collarbone, earning a gasp from you, “Quiet, sweetheart, don’t want your parents hearing their little girl being a total slut, do you?” You glance away from him, the blush on your cheeks expanding out to your ears. He knows what you like, what you need.
He lifts your nightgown a little rubbing his ringed fingers over your panties. You grip his arm, not wanting him to pull away. His fingers dip under the fabric, beginning to rub circles over your clit. You swear he can do what ever he wants to you, you’d obey everything he told you to do gladly if this was the reward.
Eddie sighs into you ear, watching you twitch at the attention he’s giving your most sensitive place. His hot breath on your skin makes you shiver, along with the soft but firm circles his fingers dance over your clit. You feel your breath catch, a knot already forming in your stomach. “E-Eddie…”
“God, you’re so easy…” Eddie moves his hand a little lower into your underwear, slowly inserting two fingers in see to you. You grip his arm tighter, a soft gasp leaving your lips that makes him smirk. “What? What is it, Baby…? Fuck, are you drooling?” He places his free hand under your chin and whips away the bit of saliva that leaks from the corner of your mouth, watching you begin to pant a bit just from his fingers curling inside you.
You moan, your hand smacking against your mouth to muffle it. Eddie only smiles wider at this, removing his hand from your underwear, getting you to pout. He’s quick to remove the garment, sliding it down your legs then dropping it over the side of your bed. He places his hands on your thighs, spreading your legs so he can see all of you.
“Fuck, Bunny, you’re dripping.” He lowers himself down, leaving soft kisses down on your abdomen. “So needy,” he kisses lower and lower, before leaving one right on your clit, earning another moan from you.
You reach down and tangle your fingers in his hair as he finally places his mouth to your cunt. God the feeling…
“E-Eddie…!” One hand moves to shove two fingers back inside you as his tongue laps around. He’s learned your body, what you like, and how to work it.
He buries his head into your cunt, sucking on your clit as his fingers pump inside you. You wreath at the feeling, lifting your hips off your bed from the pleasure. He takes this as encouragement, wrapping his other arm under you and moving his fingers faster.
It doesn’t take long before you’re shaking, oozing all over his face. He pulls away and pushes your legs up as he gets closer once more, pressing his clothed crotch to your soaked cunt.
“Fuck, you feel that, Bunny?” Of course you do, his large, hard cock fighting to get out of his pants as he grinds against you. “Do you want me to fuck you?” His question is rhetorical but you still answer anyways. “Please… E-Eddie, please…”
He unbuttons his pants, yanking them down and tossing them away, then the same with his boxers. His cock springs free, earning a soft gasp from you.
God, it looks so good…
“You’re drooling again, Bunny.” But this time he doesn’t wipe away the spit, instead he pulls away from you all together. “Do you wanna suck it?”
You don’t even hesitate as you push yourself out of the pile of stuffed animals, crawling onto your stomach in front of him. You grab his cock, immediately shoving your face into his crotch. He groans as you lick up his shaft, your nose taking in the musky scent. “That’s it, Bunny.”
You take the tip of his dick in your mouth, not wanting to wait anymore. You have to open your mouth a bit wider to fit him, but you love to do so. Eddie combs his fingers into your hair before gripping a chunk, “come on, Bunny, you can do better than that.” He slowly pushes your head down, which you happily take.
Before long your nose is brushing into his hair, his cock deep in your throat as it twitches. You’re drooling so much. You moan, sucking his cock as you hollow your cheeks. You move your tongue skillfully, just like he trained you.
“You’re doing so good, Bunny. Just like that. Such a good girl.” He moved his hips back before thrusting forward, earning a throaty moan from you. You try not to gag, angling yourself just right to where he’s not agitating it.
He thrusts into your mouth again, making your thighs press together. You begin to bob your head with his thrusts, pairing it perfectly so that when he slams back in, you push your head against him too. He gets a bit rough, beginning to thrust faster and harder until you can control the angle anymore. You gag, but don’t pull away, honestly you can’t. His hand holds your head down as he uses your throat like a toy.
And then he yanks you off, your throat sore as you try to catch your breath. He shoves you back into your stuffed animals, before grabbing your legs and lifting them up to your head. You blush, embarrassed at this position. But you don’t have long to think about it before he’s climbing on top of you and rubbing his dick along you.
“Eds…” you moan out as you feel his tip press to your cunt. He wraps his arms around you, locking you in place, before thrusting his hips forward, his cock going deep inside you.
You gasp, your mind blanking as he begins to thrust hard and faster, using your cunt for his own pleasure. You moan, your bed squeaking as you take his cock. “Look at you, taking my cock so well.” He mumbles into your ear.
You pant as you feel him twitch inside you, your cunt already becoming sore from the abusive thrusts. But you don’t care, how could you? Your pussy is being used for what it was made for.
You cum hard on his cock, squeezing around him until you see stars but he doesn’t stop. If anything he’s thrusting harder, pounding you in as you become a panting, moaning mess.
He’s fucking you stupid.
“Such a good girl, taking my dick so deep.” His cock pistons in and out of you, your mind foggy as you just take it. You have to be good and just take it, or you won’t get your reward.
He groans as his thrusts get sloppy, hitting certain angles that’s has you wreathing. “Eddie!”
He’s quick to silence you, one hand quickly wrapping around your throat and giving a good solid squeeze that has you coming undone on his cock again. “I’m gonna fucking breed you.” He groans into your ear. “Gonna fill you up just how you want, fuck you full.”
You’re gasping for air as you cum on his cock again, but this time, he thrusts a few more times before he finally thrusts deep inside you one last time. You feel the warmth of his cum gush inside you, moaning at the feeling. You need him, you need him to fucking ruin you. Imagine what people would say if he got you pregnant? Your family would be furious…
You hope he did.
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You both sit there for a while, basking in the post sex glow. He’s collapsed on top of you, pinning you still to your bed. You don’t mind, your arms wrapped around him as his cock is still buried inside you.
He kisses you lovingly, smothering you in them as you giggle. “You’re so pretty,” his voice is horse, but you understand him well enough.
You snuggle into his neck, still a bit dazed. “I love you.” The words slip out so effortlessly, but of course they do. It’s Eddie.
“I love you,” he smiles into your hair, nuzzling into the strands.
Then you hear a door down the hall open. The hall light flicks on. Eddie scurries off you, grabbing his clothes off the floor and hiding behind the door. You wobbly get up from the bed, but you don’t have time to put on your underwear before a knock comes from your door.
“Sweetie? You alright?” Your dad calls from the other side. You take a deep breath, straightening your 60’s nightgown so it’s just covering you. You open the door just enough to pop your head out. “Yes, Dad?” You smile at the older man, trying to put on this innocent look.
“Are you alright?” He goes to lift his hand, placing it against your forehead, “You feel warm, are you catching a fever?” “Oh, no, I…” you try to think of something quick, “I just had a nightmare. Sorry if I woke you.”
You feel Eddie’s cum starting to drip out of your used cunt, and you try to press your legs together a bit to stop it.
“Are you sure? Do you need some water?” He looks over your face once more. “No, no, really, I’m good. Go back to bed, Dad. I’ll see you in the morning.” You give him a smile and he nods before walking off again. You shut your door slowly, hearing it click into the hold.
“Well,” Eddie comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you, “You need to be more quiet next time.” You go to turn around but he stops you, holding you in place in front of him. “Oh, Bunny,” he trails his hand down your front, “you’re letting too much out, we can’t have that.”
Oh tonight’s on a be a long night.
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hearts4chriss · 6 months ago
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𝑷𝒖𝒔𝒔𝒚𝑫𝒓𝒖𝒏𝒌! 𝑩𝑭!𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 + 𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅𝑮𝒊𝒓𝒍! 𝑷𝒐𝒄!𝑮𝑭
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𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤 ����𝐟!𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 + 𝐒𝐮𝐛! 𝐩𝐨𝐜!𝐠𝐟
where do I even begin
the second he gets between ur legs it’s over he’s munching.
Loved when you close your thighs around his head from overstimulation.
Will eat you out until your forcing his head away and even then he’ll still continue until you use ur safe word
The more you pull on Chris’s hair, the faster he moves his tongue and sucks on ur clit.
Will do the occasionally of tracing things with his tongue such as..
“Chris” “my girl” “my pussy” “princess” etc
LOVES when you squirt all over his face and he always lets you know.
“Fuck! I’m sorry baby I didn’t mean-“. He cuts you off by slapping ur thigh
“No please never apologize, that was hot as fuck”.
big fan of face riding, he loves being able to grip ur ass and rock you on his tongue moving at inhumane pace.
“I-fuck Chris I-I can’t much longer-“. You’d moan out as his hands grip ur ass while holding you down tightly lapping up all of your juices.
“Mmhm god you taste so good-“. He groans into ur wetness before resuming eating your pussy
When you try and lift ur hips Chris slaps ur ass before going quicker.
You’ll have tears in ur eyes from the pleasure and it fuels his ego to keep making you feel good.
Is down for eating you out ANYWHERE
under the table acting as if he “dropped something” you’ll be dripping in no time.
He’ll even pull you into a bathroom stall because he saw you bend over revealing ur lace panties and couldn’t help himself.
“Mm look at that pretty pussy, all for me hm?”. Chris whispers while going on his knees behind you running his thumb over ur cunt as you whimper with sensitivity.
“O-oh Chris please-“. You push ur ass back towards him and after that he was a goner
ALWAYS complimenting you.
“God you taste so good baby”.
“You have the prettiest pussy”.
“Mmmhm love this pussy so much”.
“Give it to me pretty girl, all over my face”.
“Could listen to those beautiful sounds all day ma”.
ADDICTED to shaking his head in it like a fucking dog 😛 grazing his nose over ur bud each time
Will eat you out till ur juices are literally dripping down his face chin neck ALL of it.
Always leaves you with shaky legs and changing the sheets.
When Chris gets in a bad mood you always know that him eating you out is enough to make him feel better.
Would eat you out for breakfast lunch and dinner if you let him.
“Chris! F-fuck- okay!”. You’d try and mutter out but the pleasure felt so good.
“I’m not finished with you sweetheart, this pussys too good”. He’d whisper into your wetness before diving back in.
Sometimes he’d tease by kissing and sucking on ur inner thighs but normally he camt even help himself, I mean you pussy is right in his face.
sometimes he gets worried he did to much when he sees you shaking and tears down ur face.
“Shit shit are you okay baby?”.
“Please talk to me”.
And you’d roll ur eyes quick to reassure him your okay l
“m’ okay..just tired-“. You’d yawn tiredly unable to really make much of what’s just happened but you sure as hell enjoyed it
“Aw c’mere sweet girl, I’m gonna take of you, did so good for me” he’d plant kisses on ur face gently picking you up making his way to the bathroom
Aftercare!
Run you a bubble bath with ur bath bombs and would clean you up slowly as ur still sensitive
Would have your pjs ( his t shirt and ur panties ) ready for you as he’d help dry you off leading you to the bed
The rest of night would contain of you cuddling into his chest as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear lulling you to sleep
a/n- heyyy everyone! Sorry I’ve been gone for so long, I promise I’ve been writing I just took a very long break due to me graduation and I’ve been exhausted with school work but since I’m OFFICIALLY A HARVARD STUDENTTTT, I plan to be more active and I will have a panty soaking fic out soon 💋💋
@sturniolopowers @gdsvhtwa @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @worldlxvlys @chrisslut25 @princessbetsy123-blog @mattslolita @guccifrog @blahbel668 @mattsneezing @trickywritters @hearts4chriss @nonamegirlxsturniolo @luvmxtt @theyluv-meee @hoesformatt @luv4kozume-deactivated20240512 @kikisturnioloo @itzdarling @pepsiimaxx @babyddolly @iiheartstef @junnniiieee07 @vicsguitarr @ast3ro1dzz @sturniolowhore @st7rnioioss @emma4eva @braindead4l @ihearttsyouu @kqyslyho3 @imaslut4kehlani @sturnsfav @sunsetsturniolos @sturniololoverr @gamermattsgf @lilyloveschris @dlyansworld @chrisloyalgf @soimightlikeoldmen69 @abbie13sworld @ineedchriscock @sturniol0s @chrissgirlsstuff @luhsexcbihh-deactivated20240523 @nickgetsmewetter @rubyjaneaxx @love4chris
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bbokicidal · 6 days ago
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"What Happens When..." | [SKZ] OT8 | [HAN]
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Han allows himself to indulge in the fantasy of letting his group members use you like a toy.
Genre: Smut [18+ MDNI] Pairing: Han x Fem!Reader Warnings: Dub-con!!, reader says things like "wait," and "hold on," etc., inning/pushing/shoving, manhandling, fingering, unprotected sex, one big ol orgy, etc.
Notes: This IS a short fic and isn't anything really long. There's no plot - it's purely smut for your viewing pleasure and my mental peace, lol. also - the middle pic?? GOOD GAWD,,,
Word Count: 1.2K
Divider by @enchanthings
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"She likes when you're rough." Jisung's voice peeps from somewhere in the back of the group following down the hallway of your apartment. At the front, and currently being held tight by two of the men your boyfriend was close friends with (and whom you adored), you stumble over your own feet on the way to the bedroom. "So you guys can go all out. Just - no breaking her, yeah?"
You shift in the hold of the men guiding you along, voice wavering in both excitement and uncertainty. "Nobody told me we were doing this today --" You can't help the giggle that escapes your lips, willingly letting them push you towards the bed.
"Hold her down."
It's not your boyfriend's voice you hear from behind you - but the leader of the group; Gruff, gritty with need. He huffs out from beside where you trip over the rug at the end of your bed, body hitting the mattress harder than intended. Chan's chuckling, one hand holding tightly to the fabric of your pajama top and pinning your chest down to the sheets when you begin to wriggle. "Stay still, angel, and this'll be a lot easier."
"Jesus..." Someone else from behind begins to mutter to himself. The voice lower, paired with the hand running over your thigh and tugging down your shorts to expose your dripping hole to them, gives away that it's Felix. Always eager and quite full of energy, he's almost instantly grabbing and kneading at your ass before you have to chance to move - but he does take the initiative to spank you when you wiggle too much under their holds. If you'd glanced back you would've seen just how much you affected him, rock hard and almost whimpering from how badly he wanted to get at you already.
"Jisung..--" Your voice breaks in your throat and you can hear your boyfriend giggling off to the side.
The hand currently keeping you from pushing yourself up - pinning your wrists behind your back - tightens it's grip on your soft skin. It belongs to Jeongin, who lets his body slowly lean down to the side so he can peer into your eyes when your head tips his direction. He watches as you shift to get a better look at him, whispering out, "Innie--"
But he shakes his head, a knowing smile overtaking dimpled cheeks. "Sorry, sweetheart. But I'm just as excited as they are and... if you're going to make it harder for us, then we'll just have to take matters into our own hands."
"Come on," Someone grips at your hips where they lay on the bed, palms warm and heavy before his fingers wrap around the bone and pull harshly upward. Your weight shifts, neck straining and brows crinkling when you settle on your knees - and your grimace only hardens when two fingers slip right into your pussy with such ease. His thumb slides down between your folds until he finds the soft bundle of nerves, making it swell with the way he prods and rubs over it almost angrily. "Oh my God," Seungmin coos, almost enamored with the way you tighten around his fingers. "You're dripping, aren't you?"
But your boyfriend has first dibs - He is your boyfriend after all. So after giving Seungmin some time to toy around with you, pushing at your clit and making you tremble with his hands, he shoves the younger aside to take his rightful place behind you. Pants dropped to his thighs, his cock slips right into your walls with practiced ease. "God, it's like you're made for me." Jisung sighs in adoration, his eyes slowly rolling back in his head with the warmth of your slick coating his cock. And it's little to no time at all before he's moving, the sound of his hips slamming into your own filling the room.
"Hey."
Someone all but bites. With your face pressed into the mattress, he watches as you clearly struggle to lift your head at all. The angle makes you whimper until his fingers tangle into the crown of your head, pulling your hair until you had to crane your neck to look at him. Changbin stares down at the red of your cheeks. With teary eyes blurred and damp, you blink up at the man sitting on the bed in front of you. Had he been there the whole time, watching you rock back and forth on the sheets with no way to support yourself? It seems he doesn't have much to say - He just wanted to see your pretty face while his dongsaeng fucked into you like a dog in heat, drool sliding down your chin and tears beginning to streak over the pink of your cheeks.
"Wait..-- Wait--"
The sudden emptiness of Jisung pulling out makes you whine in distress, lips falling open and jaw slack as someone seems to take his place. Cock pushing into your walls - it's heavier, thicker, bigger. It makes you choke on every breath as he sinks into you balls deep before pulling back, dragging along your inside and almost teasing you with how slowly he seems to move. "Sorry, angel." Leaning down and letting his chest just barely touch the back of your shoulders, Minho settles comfortably behind and lets his hips push closer to bury himself back inside of you. "No time to wait. We all want a turn."
You can feel every breath that escapes his lips brushing over your throat, eyes previously glued to Changbin now flittering down towards the sheets beneath your bodies. With a dull gaze and spit still coating your lips, someone's hand gently takes a hold of your chin. Your eyes remain on the sheets, almost seeming out of it with how perfectly Minho's length massages every inch of your pussy - something you've dreamed of (Jisung, too.) but never expected to actually happen.
The person's thumb gently swipes over your bottom lip, slowly gathering the spit that drips and lifting it to his own mouth to lick it clean - before he's carefully taking hold of your chin once more and letting his thumb press into your mouth. Hyunjin watches as spit pools on your tongue, coating his finger and making him shudder where he sits beside Changbin in front of you.
"Mmn--" You gasp when Minho's hips snap hard to your own, Hyunjin almost pulling his hand back with the way your lips close and threaten to bite down. But you refrain and his worries instantly fade, continuing to push down on your tongue until you were drooling over his hand. He sighs out and, with his free hand, unbuttons his jeans in a quick snap. The fly, already down, lets his cock gain some relief after straining against his briefs for so long. "Keep that pretty mouth open," Hyunjin hums, "I'll put it to good use while I wait for my turn."
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aemondsbabe · 8 months ago
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What is Owed
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summary: the gold cloaks raid the brothel, you make a deal to secure your freedom
pairing: harwin strong x lyseni!reader x daemon targaryen
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, reader is briefly described as having lyseni features (pale hair, purple eyes) but no other physical descriptors are used, mentions of sex work, reader is a sex worker, breast/nipple play, dirty talk, double penetration, piv sex, anal sex, anal fingering, regular fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, double creampie oh jeez, oral (m receiving), handjobs, hands on necks, "whore" is used both as a pet name and degradingly we love innovation, big hulking men idk, let me know if i missed anything!
word count: 7.7k
a/n: so sorry for being away! wasn't intentional, just busy with life things! but god i missed writing and i'm so happy to finally have this one done! daddies galore!
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
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A barely concealed sigh of disgust leaves your lips, which remain pulled into a tight, docile smile as some lord, whose name you couldn’t be bothered to remember, finally finishes over your bare chest with a beastly grunt, his hips twitching as you stroke him through it. 
Took his sweet time, you think as you rise to your feet and quickly grab one of the spare cloths stashed in the nearby vanity to wipe his spend from your chest. Depositing the cloth in a nearby basket, you take a moment to right your dress and run your fingers through your pale hair. Finally, you turn back around and eye the man still lying across the ornate chaise catching his breath. 
You glance at his trousers, still haphazardly piled on the floor, before checking him once more, smirking when you see that his eyes are still closed. Carefully, you make your way over to his trousers and kneel once more as you grab for the heap of fabric; keeping your eyes on him, you swiftly rifle through the pockets and smile triumphantly as you pull a few coins from one – one golden dragon, three copper stars, and a half-penny. 
Grinning, you toss the man’s trousers back onto the floor before quickly grabbing the small coin purse you keep tucked away beneath the chaise, way back toward the wall and covered by the ends of one of the red satin curtains that cover the windows of the brothel – the perfect hiding spot until you can move them to the more secure lock-box beneath your bed. 
“Mmph,” the lord sighs, stirring finally just as you drop the last coin into your pouch. Shoving it back beneath the chaise, you quickly rise to your feet with a placid smile just as he finishes stretching. 
“Some wine for you, my lord,” you smile, keeping your voice light and sweet in just the way the Madam likes as you offer him a goblet, “To replenish your strength.”
“Yes, yes,” the older man mumbles, paying you no mind as he busies himself with the buttons on his tunic, “Fetch me my trousers,” he commands, brushing you off with a wave of his hand. 
“Of course, my lord,” you nod, teeth gritting as you set the goblet back down before grabbing his blasted trousers with an eye roll. He all but snatches them from you with a pompous little hum, not even looking in your direction. Once again behaving as the Madam demands, you merely stand by while he redresses, hands clasped demurely in front of you as you wait to be of service once again, or, hopefully, to kindly escort him to the door. 
You don’t mind working in the brothel, not really, especially knowing that it could be much worse – you could’ve ended up as one of the many beggars that line the streets of Flea Bottom or, more dreadful still, stuck as a slave back home. It was luck, really, that brought you to the brothel in the first place, back when you were still stumbling half-blind with grief around the fish market by the docks only to be plucked up by chance by a few of the girls from the brothel. They’d brought you back here, promising that the Madam would take you in, that you’d earn great money with your exotic looks. 
One of those things had been true – the Madam was very happy to take you in. Technically, you do also make great money… for the brothel; only a small percentage is ever paid back to the workers and, for your circumstances, that just won’t do. Which is precisely why you sometimes took a little tip for yourself, especially if your client for the evening was of higher status; it’s not as if they’d miss, or even notice, a few missing coins. 
As far as you’re concerned, it’s a flawless system. 
You’re brought out of your short reverie by another sigh from the lord as he polishes off the goblet of wine you’d offered some moments ago and once more, your lips quirk up into a pleasing smile, “Leaving so soon, my lord?”
“Mm,” he merely grumbles before flashing you a lecherous grin, his yellowed teeth making your stomach turn, “Worry not, girl, I’ll be back before the tournament’s over.”
“Wonderful,” you sigh, grimacing internally as you make a half-step toward the arched doorway, “I’ll see you out.” Blessedly, the lord makes no more of a fuss and lets you lead him to the entryway, sparing you one final nod before slipping down the dimly lit street. 
You remain in the doorway for a moment more, arms crossed over your chest as you gaze outside, relishing the feel of the cool night air against your skin. After a moment, though, your eyes narrow when you realize the streets seem much quieter than usual. At this hour, there would normally be more people about – some returning from a long day of work, others already stumbling around drunk, but tonight there were only a few scattered people roaming about. 
“Strange…,” you murmur to yourself, absentmindedly running a finger over the gold chain around your neck, your fingers brushing over the small key hanging from it. Sparing a glance up at the Dragonpit looming on the nearby hill, you finally close the door with a shrug. Returning to the room you’d serviced the lord in, you glance around quickly to make sure the coast is clear before you retrieve the small coin purse from beneath the chaise, smiling at the weight of it as you carry it swiftly back to your bed, to your little lockbox, wholly unaware of the envious gaze on your back. 
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“Commander on the floor!” One of the Gold Cloaks shouts as Daemon prowls into the hall, a self-righteous smirk on his lips as the drum of fists against chest plates ceases. 
“When I took command of the Watch, you were stray mongrels,” he growls, dark violet eyes surveying the men around him, “Starving and undisciplined!” 
He pauses for a second, heart pounding with the heady sensation of power as he prepares to do what his dear older brother cannot – punish. Too long have the streets of King’s Landing, of his city gone to the Seven Hells; controlled by crime and near-anarchy when they should be controlled by him, by the dread of his authority. 
“Now, you’re a pack of hounds,” his voice rises as he speaks, as he breathes life into his men, “You’re sated and honed for the hunt!”
Howls erupt around the hall, making the prince’s lips stretch into a vicious grin – his men were ready, ready to rule with the iron fist Viserys lacked. 
“My brother’s city has fallen into squalor!” He says, pacing down the room, “Crime of every breed has been allowed to thrive!”
His chainmail clinks with each of his heavy steps, pride swelling in his chest as many of the soldiers nod their heads along with him. It was true, after all, everyone knew it. Viserys may have the crown, the damned throne, but the dragonfire in his veins had run cold long ago. The blood in Daemon’s burns hot, however; centuries of power and glory fuel his fires, flowing through him like the lava in the Dragonmont. 
“No longer,” he grunts, pausing at the end of the hall, the silken cloth draped over his shoulders shining in the light of the torches lining the room as he turns to eye his men, smirking at the blood lust evident on their faces, “Beginning tonight, King’s Landing will learn to fear the color gold!”
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A loud bang wakes you sometime later and you sit up with a small gasp, clutching the linen bed sheets. Whipping your head around, you can see the dark night sky still looms heavily over the city through the slats in the window – you must’ve not been asleep very long. 
Another cry from somewhere outside finally gets you moving and you quickly wrap yourself in an embroidered silk robe, tying it loosely around your waist as you move closer to the door, your ears perked at the sound of frantic whispers. Poking your head through the beaded curtain that separates the sleeping quarters from one of the hallways, you finally spot a familiar face in the dim candlelight. 
“Genna!” You whisper, waving one of the other working girls over, “What’s going on, what’s happened?”
“Gold Cloaks!” She hisses, working quickly to stuff an armful of dresses into a small bag, “They’ve gone mad, they’re rounding up damn near everyone out there!”
“Gone mad?” You echo, brows pinching together as you look toward the entrance, another muffled cry from outside catching your attention, along with the sounds of metal clanging against metal. 
Genna merely nods as she practically shoves past you to get into the room before quickly loading her bag with various perfumes, oils, and loose jewelry from one of the vanities, “One of the regulars came by, woke everyone up,” she explains as she quickly ties the bag off, “They’re taking in anyone who’s so much as nicked an apple from the market.”
Your eyes go wide at her words, head ringing as blood rushes to your cheeks. Thankfully, she seems too busy to notice you glance warily at your bed, knowing your lockbox with weeks worth of lifted coins is tucked neatly below it. 
“I’m telling you, if you’ve pocketed even one extra groat, you’re as good as dead,” She shakes her head as she slings her bag over one shoulder, “Get out while you can, yeah? I think they’re a ways away st–”
A deafening crash from the front of the building cuts her off, the both of you shrieking. Your heart pounds in your chest at the sound of men’s voices; yours and Genna’s heads swivel to face one another at the same time before you both glance at the large wardrobe in the corner of the room – big enough for someone to climb inside of. 
It seems you both have the same idea at the same time, each of you scrambling toward the cupboard. She’s a second behind you, though, her hefty bag slowing her by an instant and she yelps as you pull the wooden doors closed, pinching one of her fingers. You push yourself as far back in the cramped space as you can, trying to tuck yourself behind the hanging coats and dresses.
Finally, you stay as still as possible, chest heaving as your back presses into the wood behind you. You hear a muffled curse from Genna before she shrieks as heavy footsteps flood into the room. 
“Shut it, whore!” A guard yells and the sound of a harsh slap makes you cover your mouth with a hand. 
“Careful!” A different voice shouts as more heavy footsteps sound outside, “She’s a woman, not a shadowcat,” the new voice admonished, “Take her outside with the others, then go ahead and take the wagons to the dungeons below the Keep. No harm is to come to any of them, understood?”
“But the Commander sai–”
“I don’t give a shit what the Commander said,” the man all but growled, “I am your superior still, soldier, you take orders from me; I’ll worry about him. The night’s gotten out of hand as it is.”
“Yes, Captain,” the first man grumbles after a second. Heavy footsteps sound for an instant before Genna shrieks again, “I said shut it, whore!” The man’s voice is a bit muffled this time, further away. 
“Tell the Commander I’m searching in here!” The second voice calls out gruffly; silently, you curse. 
You hold yourself as still as possible as the muffled sounds of opening drawers and cabinets sound from outside the wardrobe, slowly but surely getting closer to you. Your heart leaps into your throat as the wardrobe doors are tugged open, yet you hold yourself still and squeeze your eyes closed, a naïve part of you hoping the soldier would just overlook you.
Of course that doesn’t happen. 
“I do see you, you know,” the gruff voice sighs, his eyes on you, “Come on, out,” he commands. 
Finally, you open your eyes and peek at him through gaps of fabric, warily taking in his appearance. Your eyes widen at his size, truly a mountain of a man, with curly dark hair and matching dark eyes, clad in metal plate armor with a familiar golden cloak around his shoulders. The look in his eyes is neutral, if not sympathetic, but you still don’t move, rooted to the spot. 
With another sigh, he shakes his head at you and beckons you forward with a wave of his hand, “Please make this easy.” 
When you still don’t move after a few more seconds, the man grumbles and reaches in, shoving past various articles of clothing until he grabs at your forearm and pulls you, stumbling, from the wardrobe. 
“Let me go!” You cry, struggling in his grasp like a fish on a line, “Let me go, damn you! I haven’t done anything!” You shriek loudly, uselessly kicking your feet as he holds you steady at arms length. 
“Easy!” The dark-haired man shouts over your screeches, “If you’ll just calm–”
“What’s this?” Another voice questions from the doorway, making both of you pause. Your eyes widen when you see the man, dressed in the same gold cloaked armor as the one holding you, though this one has purple eyes and pale white hair cascading over his shoulders, complete with a familiar face you’d seen before in the shadowy corners of the brothel, “Is that her?”
Her? You balk, glancing between the two men, They were looking for me?
The brunette stays silent for a moment, bushy brows furrowed together as he looks between you and the prince, brown eyes meeting two sets of purple, “She’s not… one of his, is she?” He asks quietly, only confusing you more. 
Prince Daemon merely chuckles and shakes his head as he traipses toward you with a smirk. “Ohh, no, definitely not,” he mutters, squeezing your cheeks in one large, gloved hand as he forces your face to lift up toward his, “No, my dearest brother would never dare betray his wife so.”
He tilts your head from side to side, studying your face carefully, before making you face him once again as the other guard keeps hold of your arm, “What’s your name, girl?”
You glance between the men, caged in between their large frames, before finally telling them, each syllable merely a whisper on your lips.
The prince repeats it with a smug smile, the sound of your name on his tongue makes your head spin. “Ah, see, just as I thought,” he smirks, a pleased twinkle in his violet eyes, “A Lyseni whore.”
The other man merely grunts, though you don’t miss the way his dark brown eyes flit over your form appreciatively. Daemon moseys around the room, eyes scanning over the row of matching twin beds lined against one wall. “Which is yours?”
“I… I don’t sleep in here, my pr–”
“Lying won’t do you any good, you know,” he smirks, “We’ve had eyes and ears all over the city for months, including here. So, I’ll ask again. Which bed?”
You hesitate, only for a moment, before nodding at the bed to the far right. Your mind reels as Daemon begins his search, Someone was spying in here? One of the other girls?
“Aha!” He says after only a moment and your heart sinks as he pulls your small wooden lockbox out from its hiding spot. He drops it down onto your bed with a gloating smirk and you glance up just in time to see one of the prince’s pale hands reaching for the key at your neck, easily tugging it off the chain as you gasp and jerk once more in the other man’s grasp. “That was a gift from my father!”
“Daemon, please,” the other man sighs tiredly, scrambling to hold you in place once more, “Was that truly necessary?”
“Don’t start with me, Strong,” the prince huffs, moving to unlock the box, “You’ve spoiled my night of fun enough as is.” A low whistle sounds from his lips as he flips open the lid, quickly shuffling through the various coins, small pieces of jewelry, and other trinkets you’ve managed to swipe. 
“Seems we got the right one after all,” the man holding your arm, the one apparently called Strong, murmurs, nodding toward you.
“Of course we got the right bloody one,” Daemon scoffs, violet eyes rolling in his head, “I only know of two Lyseni whores in this city and it certainly isn’t the other one.” 
“Mysaria!” You whisper lowly, eyes widening as puzzle pieces begin clicking together in your mind.
The prince merely laughs, looking between you and the other knight as if you’ve just told some hilarious joke. “Finally figured it out, eh?” He teases, sauntering over to where you’re still being held. 
As soon as he’s in reach, the guard holding you grabs your other arm as well, holding them both behind your back as if you’d be stupid enough to try anything against two Gold Cloaks. Even if you did manage to free yourself, what would be the point in running now? 
“Seems we have a clever whore on our hands, Strong,” Daemon drawls, grinning when you flinch as he grips your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his once more, “And a pretty one too. You must earn enough to pay your keep, no? A little exotic flower like you is bound to get plucked at often enough.”
You wait for him to continue speaking but he doesn’t, he simply waits, eyes boring into you as if he’s trying to read your thoughts. For all you know, he can – you’ve heard whispers around King’s Landing of how the Targaryens were supposedly closer to Gods than men. 
“I suppose so, my prince,” you all but squeak a moment later, unable to bear the intense silence any longer. 
“Then tell me,” you gasp as he suddenly turns your head, directing your gaze toward the small wooden lockbox strewn open on your bed, “Why does a well paid whore need to steal? Hm?”
“I wasn’t stealing for me!” You blurt, chest heaving.
“Then why do it?” You startle slightly as the knight behind you speaks, his grip on your wrists loosening enough for you to relax some in his grasp. For someone so gruff and intimidating, there was a distinctive warmth to his voice – a soft, kind lilt. 
With a sigh, you glance between the two men before speaking, “I send it back to my family, once every other moon or so.”
“You send money to your family,” Daemon echos, purple eyes narrowed suspiciously, “In Lys, I presume?”
You simply nod, your eyes downcast as the men share a look over your head.
“Why do you need to send them money?” The Strong guard asks as he releases your arms, brown eyes watching you closely. 
“My father was a merchant,” you begin, nervously fiddling with the tie on your robe, “He would travel to Volantis a few times a year to buy the more exotic goods shipped in from cities further east, from the other side of Slaver’s Bay, to bring back to sell in Lys. He could get a better price for them at home, Westerosi ships rarely go any further than our ports and they were willing to pay more.” 
“And then, one time he left for Volantis and… never came back,” you continue, your voice only a raspy whisper as the back of your throat tightens, “We received word some months later that there had been a slave rebellion in the city and that my father had been killed in it. So, now I send money back so that my mother and siblings are able to pay for our house, because in Lys, if you can no longer afford your land you –”
“You risk becoming a slave yourself,” the brunette knight finishes, sighing sympathetically when you nod.
“How very touching,” the prince mutters, though you can see pity clouding his eyes as well. 
“Perhaps we should just let her go,” the Strong guard says after a moment, making you whip your head toward him in shock, “She isn’t a danger to anyone.”
“She may not be,” Daemon says, crossing his arms over his broad chest, “But a drunken, disgruntled lord who’s discovered his gold missing certainly is.”
The brown haired man hums thoughtfully at his reasoning and both of them eye you for a moment, silence falling over the room. 
Shifting your weight from foot to foot, you silently reason that you have two options – convince them to free you or wind up in a cell beneath the Red Keep. Being locked away simply isn’t an option, not for you, as that would mean being unable to send money to your family and although petty theft doesn’t carry the penalty of death, you know that if anything were to happen to them, you’d wish it did. 
Gathering your courage, you look between the two men, eyeing them up and down. “Perhaps,” you start, loosening the tie on your robe just enough to bare your cleavage just a bit more, “I could convince you that I’m worth much more as a free woman?” 
“Little minx,” the prince rasps, stepping toward you and grasping at your jaw once more, “Maybe you’ll prove useful after all,” he says cryptically. 
Before you have time to dwell on his words, he releases you and busies himself with quickly unbuckling his plate armor, letting the chest and torso pieces noisily clank on the floor as they fall against a pile of gold cloth. 
You gasp as Daemon grabs you by the hips and pulls you to him, pressing himself against you tightly as his rough hands roam over your soft curves. You can’t help but giggle as an appreciative grunt leaves his lips, violet eyes darkening as they meet yours. 
“Daemon,” the other guard starts with a sigh, hand resting on the pommel of his sword. 
“Come, ser Strong,” the prince growls, hastily turning you to face the brown eyed man. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip as you look him up and down, the corners of your lips quirking up into a small smile when you see the flush on his cheeks, “It would be rude to turn down what our little mouse is so generously offering, hm?” The feel of Daemon’s hands on your body makes your eyes flutter closed for just a second, only to snap back open when he roughly grabs at your breasts just as his teeth press against the column of your throat, eliciting a soft cry from you. 
“O-Oh!”
“See? Listen to that,” Daemon says, words muffled against your skin, “She likes it, don’t you?” 
You quickly nod your head yes, head clouded by the feel of the prince’s length as it presses against the small of your back, hard enough to be felt through the trousers they wear under their armor. He chuckles as he suddenly cups your center, the silky fabric of your robe pressing against your already aching flesh, and nips at your neck once more before releasing you. 
“Go,” he murmurs, giving you a gentle push toward the other knight, “Make the stubborn bore more comfortable.”
Biting your lip, you approach the man with a little grin. Standing before him, you move your hand to his shoulder, to the buckles of his plate armor. 
“Is this okay?” 
All he gives you is a curt nod, but it’s enough for you. With another reassuring smile, you pull at the leather buckles, unstrapping them one by one until he grabs at his chest plate and sets it on the floor, more gentle with it than Daemon had been. 
Pausing for a second, you cock your head to the side curiously. “I know him,” you say with a nearly bashful smile, nodding your head at the prince, “But what do I call you, Ser?”
“Harwin, my lady. Just Harwin.”
Still sensing hesitance from him, you decide to be bold and gently take one of his hands and place it on one of your breasts, peering up into his deep brown eyes all the while. Your lips turn up into a pleased smile at the low groan that rumbles from his chest and you marvel at how warm his touch is through your robe, though before you have time to linger on it further, Harwin surges forward and presses his lips against yours. 
You still for a second, not having expected such boldness from a man who had held so much back thus far. Getting your wits about you, you quickly respond in kind and move your lips with his, leaning into him a bit more as you grab at his shoulders. A pleased hum leaves your lips as his hands begin exploring you, seeming to grab and knead at any bits of you he can like he’s been starved for touch for years. 
He groans into the kiss once more when you nip at his bottom lip, prompting him to slip his tongue into your mouth, which earns a small whimper from you as one of your hands slips down from his shoulder to rest on his toned, muscular chest. 
The sudden feel of another presence at your back makes you jump slightly – you’d gotten so wrapped up in Harwin that you’d nearly forgotten that Daemon was still in the room, though the knowledge that he’d been watching the two of you sends an excited zing up your spine. 
“Oh!” You gasp as he begins nipping and biting at your neck once more, soothing the marks he leaves behind with his tongue. Your lips move against Harwin’s as another pair of hands begins exploring you, impatiently tugging at the tie around your waist until your robe falls open. A whine leaves you as the knight’s hands immediately cup your bare breasts, kneading them and savoring the way your soft skin feels against his palms. At the same time, Daemon nearly growls as he presses himself against your ass, grinding his length against you as his hands grip at your hips and waist. 
“I believe you said something about convincing us?” He mutters against your neck, grinning when you pull away from Harwin and meet his gaze as you turn to look over your shoulder, brow raising when you see he’d taken the time to strip off his tunic at some point. 
“Quite right, my prince,” you grin, looking between the two men once more before slipping off your robe, leaving you bare as it pools on the floor. Your cheeks flush at their appreciative groans, skin prickling at the way you can practically feel their eyes on you. 
With another little breath, you lower yourself to your knees between them and immediately skim your hands over their strong thighs. Ever eager, Daemon quickly unties his trousers, a predatory gleam in his purple eyes as he frees his hardening length. 
You bite your bottom lip at the sight of it and quickly reach up to wrap a hand around it, marveling at the way it hardens steadily under your touch. “I think you’ll find I can be very persuasive,” you murmur, softly licking over the tip before sealing your lips around it and suckling gently while you gaze up at him, batting your lashes enticingly. 
“Fuck,” he breathes, long fingers threading into your hair as his head tips back. You grin around him, bobbing your head while you stroke over the rest of his length with a hand, laving your tongue over the head. 
Not forgetting about Harwin, you shift your gaze to him as your other hand palms his length where it presses against the rough fabric of his trousers, already hard and wanting. That seems to be the final straw for him and he scrambles to undo the ties, brown eyes glued to where your lips are wrapped around the prince’s hard cock. 
Your eyes widen when his length finally springs free and you let Daemon slip from your lips as your mouth falls open. “Seven Hells,” you murmur, watching as Harwin strokes a hand over his cock, a proud smirk on his lips. 
“Well now, that must be where your damn stubborn attitude comes from, Strong,” the prince teases, chest heaving as you continue stroking a hand over his length. 
Unable to resist, you brush the knight’s hand away before grasping his cock in your own, heart skipping a beat as your fingers hardly touch around the girth of it. You lean over and lick up the length of him, from the base to the very tip, before taking him into your mouth, bobbing your head in the same way you did with Daemon. 
It takes a few moments, but eventually you settle into a good rhythm – stroking one man’s member with your hand while you suck and lick at the others, swapping every few moments or when one of them gets impatient enough to tug you over by the hair. 
It’s easy to lose yourself in the cacophonous sounds of grunts and growls above you, at the way each man’s fingers thread into your hair differently. Daemon’s grip is much rougher, more commanding, as he drags you exactly where he wants, pushing and pulling your head along his cock in an exacting rhythm. 
Harwin, on the other hand, is more gentle — his tugs seeming more like suggestions than commands. Unlike the prince, he strokes over your hair gently as you attend to him, letting you set your own pace. Anytime your eyes meet his, he looks at you with awe almost, hairy chest heaving as his hips twitch, holding himself back from fucking your face in the way he wants. 
Daemon has no such qualms, hasn’t the patience to resist tugging at your hair as he presses your mouth lower and lower down his cock, relishing the way you choke and sputter. His violet, half-lidded gaze sends shivers through you each time your eyes meet, the look in his eyes echoing the fierce dragon’s blood flowing in his veins. 
Surprisingly, it’s Harwin that breaks first, tossing back his head with a low groan after some minutes and pulling you off of his cock. 
“What—?” You scarcely get the word out before his lips are on yours once again, tongue licking into your mouth. 
“Need you,” he mumbles simply, glaring as Daemon snickers behind your back. “Please,” he breathes, voice softer this time. 
“You needn’t ask,” Daemon drawls, pressing himself against your side as his hands paw at your breasts, pinching and pulling at your nipples and chuckling at the way you whine, “She’s a whore.” 
You roll your eyes playfully at the remark and grab Harwin’s hand, leading him toward one of the bigger rooms of the brothel. “That may be true, but perhaps I like a man with some decorum, my prince,” you call over your shoulder, chuckling as Daemon follows hot on your heels. 
You lead the men to one of the fancier rooms, one laden with imported ornate rugs and silken lamps that give it a warm red glow, complete with a giant circular daybed with plenty of room for all three of you. After all, if the brothel is empty, why not take advantage of it?
Putting on your very best show, you push at Harwin’s hairy chest until he sits back on the edge of the bed before walking over to him with a sly smirk, hips swaying enticingly. A chuckle leaves your lips when his eyes widen as you climb on his lap, your thighs bracketing his. 
“Is this ok –” His lips are on yours before you can finish the question; the both of you move a bit more desperately now, though his touches are no less attentive as his hands skim over your waist and up your back. 
Suddenly, you’re tugged away from Harwin’s lips with a little gasp as one of Daemon’s hands laces through the hair at the crown of your head, drawing you back until your spine is arched. 
“Forgetting someone?” He teases, lightly wrapping his other hand around your neck in a way that sends pleasant tingles down to your already aching center. You shake your head no, teeth biting into your bottom lip as Harwin’s cock twitches between your legs.
“Never, my prince,” you murmur, smiling into the kiss as Daemon presses his lips against yours. His movements are more urgent than Harwin’s and it soon dissolves into a battle of teeth and tongues; you mewl into his mouth when the hand around your neck slides down your chest and palms eagerly at one of your breasts. 
Though they’re closed, your eyes roll back as Harwin leans forward and begins mouthing at the side of your neck, his wavy hair tickling your shoulder. Soon enough, both men are pawing greedily at your chest, making your head spin – both of their touches are so different: where Daemon is rough, pinching at your nipple until you gasp and whine into his kiss, Harwin is gentle and uses his thumb to tease at the other until he feels you shivering on his lap. 
The knight surprises you once more when his touch skirts down over your stomach before his fingers run through your folds, making you jerk from Daemon’s grasp with a moan. Your cheeks flush slightly at the sight of the little victorious grin on Harwin’s face as he expertly circles your pearl, watching closely at the way his touch makes you squirm and grind down against his hard length. 
“That’s it,” he husks, grunting as your grasp tightens on his shoulders, nails digging into his lightly tanned skin, “Need to warm you up, don’t I?”
Beside you, Daemon scoffs as he stands straight once more, fingers still threaded through your hair. “Please,” he huffs, sliding closer to where you sit on the knight’s lap, until his length is practically brushing against your cheek, “Whores don’t need warming, Strong. You may as well take her.”
Before you have time to so much as register the jab, Harwin slips a thick finger inside you in the same instance that Daemon manhandles his cock into your waiting mouth, muffling your whimpers. Both men growl as they take you, the knight’s finger fucking easily into your wet channel as the prince’s length slides against your tongue once more. 
You can hardly do more than ragdoll in their grasp, mewling while Harwin fingers you open, adding a second digit after a moment and crooking them in a way that makes your hips rut eagerly into his touch while Daemon takes from you as he pleases, fucking into your throat with loud growls and grunts. 
Below you, Harwin groans as he easily presses a third finger into your heat, watching you carefully as he does and smirking when you show no signs of discomfort. “Think you’re ready for me,” he murmurs, chuckling when you nod your head as best as you can. As desperate as you are to be filled properly, you can’t help but let out a little petulant whine as he pulls his fingers from you. 
“Patience,” he grunts, shifting you on his lap enough to reach between your bodies and fist his length, grinning at the way you squirm eagerly as he runs the head through your slick folds. His chest reverberates under your palms when he growls as he finally grabs at your hips and pulls you down steadily over his thick cock, half-lidded eyes staring down at where you both connect, “Fuck, there you go.”
You pull away from Daemon with a loud gasp, sucking in a lungful of air, chest heaving as your walls pulse around the knight, savoring the way his stretches you open. “Gods!” You cry, wriggling in his hold as you grind against him, your hips moving of their own accord. 
Daemon huffs, annoyed, and tries dragging you back onto his cock a few times to no avail, quickly becoming irritated at the way you mindlessly clench your jaw closed each time Harwin’s cock presses against the sensitive spot within you. 
“Poor little whore,” the prince sighs exasperatedly, once again tugging your head back until your eyes meet his, “Too distracted, hm?”
You open your lips to reply, only to gasp dazedly as Harwin thrusts up into you from below, muscular thighs flexing under your own. “Give her a moment,” he grunts, gripping your hips to guide you over his length.
The prince merely tsks, pulling at your hair again until your eyes pop open; a shiver goes through you at the smirk that graces his lips, as if he knows something you don’t. “Tell me,” he starts, carding his long fingers through your hair, “Have you ever taken two cocks at once?”
“N – fuck!” You gasp, eyes rolling back briefly as Harwin ruts up into you quickly, evidently excited by the idea, “N-No.” 
“Hmm,” Daemon hums, smirk only widening, “Then I know just the way to get your attention.”
He moves away from you quickly, letting your head flop back uselessly as he walks swiftly to a small cabinet in the corner of the room where the Madam keeps a small stock of massage oils and lotions. You straighten just in time to watch as he stalks back over to you and Harwin, a vial of oil in hand. “I trust you have at least some experience with this, yes?” He questions, letting out a pleased hum when you nod. 
The two men share a look between them and you mewl as Harwin lays back against the day bed, pulling you with him until you’re lying against his chest, making you gasp as the change in angle presses his length squarely against the most sensitive spot within you. 
“Hold her steady,” Daemon murmurs behind you, uncorking the little bottle of oil.
The knight grunts when you tighten around him and one of his hands abandons its hold on your hip to cup one of your cheeks, his touch surprisingly delicate for a man of his stature. “Excited?” He questions, brown eyes studying your face carefully. 
Any reply dies on your lips in lieu of an eager gasp when you feel the prince’s presence behind you, his hips nearly touching your rear as he slots himself between Harwin’s legs. Still, you nod your head earnestly, sending pearlescent hair cascading over your shoulders to pool on the knight’s chest.
Harwin’s chest rumbles with a satisfied hum, though you’re left gasping at the feel of one of Daemon’s hands deftly parting your arse cheeks, swiftly followed by massage oil being drizzled between them, filling the room with the scent of lavender. When you jolt slightly at the feel of a finger skirting over your entrance, the prince is quick to reprimand you with a sharp slap to the rear, leaving your skin tingling in its wake. 
“You’re going to be good for us?” Harwin questions, drawing your attention back to him as he smooths a thumb over your cheekbone. 
“Y-Yes, yes,” you nod listlessly, breaths staggered as Daemon fingers you open, expertly preparing you. Again, you earn a pleased hum from the man below you. 
The next few moments pass in a blur – your head spins as the prince readies you and Harwin placates you all the while with gentle caresses and kisses, even snaking a hand between your bodies to rub at your aching pearl.
Finally, Daemon seems satisfied and pulls his fingers from you before slotting himself against you, quickly slicking up his cock with more of the oil before pressing the head against your opening, grinning smugly when you press back against him. 
“Fuck, there we go,” he rasps, carefully sliding his length into you until his hips meet your backside. 
A high, whining keen is pulled from your lungs at the stretch, tingles shooting up your spine and making you shudder at the feel of being this filled. You can do little more but gasp, pinned between two muscular bodies, as the men start to move. The feel of it is like none other, a constant push and pull as they thrust in and out of you in tandem. 
“G-Gods, fuck!” You finally cry, managing to suck in a lungful of air as your nails dig into Harwin’s chest. 
The knight beneath you isn’t faring much better than you are, a near constant stream of deep grunts and groans leaving his lips as he feels you tighten on his cock. “By the Seven, you feel divine,” he mumbles, making you cry out as he pulls you to him, strong hands encircling your waist as he mouths at your shoulder, biting at your skin.
Above you, Daemon’s violet eyes remain fixed on your ass, savoring the way it bounces each time his hips smack against it, watching as his length spears into you again and again. “What a good little whore,” he grunts, words short and clipped as he clenches his jaw. A stuttered moan is pulled from you as he grabs at your backside, fingers do doubt leaving bruises in their wake as he gropes you, “Taking us so well.”
Your muscles tense at the praise as your high threatens to overwhelm you, looming in a small pit in your belly that’s growing bigger and bigger with each passing second. Your walls tighten around Harwin again, making him hiss beneath you. 
“Gonna, Gods, I –” you cry, eyes squeezing shut as the knight bullies the sensitive spot within you, pounding against it with each rough thrust, making your words die on your tongue. 
Thankfully, Harwin understands perfectly, balancing on that thin precipice himself – the cacophonous litany of your moans and whines along with the lewd, wet sounds of their cocks plunging into you again and again only serving to push him further to his own end. 
“That’s it,” the knight rasps, grabbing your chin with one hand and directing your attention toward him once more, “Go on, peak, let me feel it.”
His command, along with another hard smack to your rear from Daemon, send you hurtling over the edge with a sharp, loud cry. You lose all sense between them, muscles clenching and relaxing rhythmically as your whole body seems to erupt into flame. 
The gorgeous look on your face, along with the steady pulse of your walls around him, finish Harwin as well. A deep groan, complementary to your own high-pitched whines, is all but punched from his chest as his length twitches within you, painting your walls with his spend. 
As your peak slowly settles, like waves receding at low tide, you’re left gasping, clinging to Harwin as Daemon still thrusts wildly into you, chasing his own high. Desperate to feel you clench around him once more, the prince reaches around, over your hip, and his greedy fingers quickly find your bud. 
“Oh!” You gasp, squirming in the knight’s grasp as the prince’s fingers roughly rub against your pearl, forcibly dragging you right back to the edge you’d just fallen from. 
“Come on,” Daemon grunts, tugging you up by the shoulder until your back presses against his chest, deep, vicious grunts filling your ear, “One more, little whore, fucking do it for me.”
You scramble in his hold, lips parting in a silent cry as your muscles jerk in sharp, uncoordinated movements. Unable to extract yourself from his hold, the overstimulation finally gives way to blinding pleasure once more and you peak with a loud, piercing yelp. 
Daemon grunts behind you, pleased, as your walls all but force a high from him as well. He thrusts into you a few more times, groaning at the feel of your slick coating his fingers and pooling between your bodies. Finally, he lets go, grumbling low words in a language you don’t understand as he fills you. 
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The only sounds in the near empty brothel is the sound of staggered pants as the three of you catch your breaths, content to do little more than lie in a heap for a few moments. 
It’s Daemon that moves first, pulling himself from you with a muted grunt before swaggering over to a small vanity, pulling up and tying his trousers as he goes. 
Harwin soothes you with gentle touches as he pulls away, keenly aware of the way you wince at certain movements, overly sensitive now. “Are you okay?” He asks, voice gentler now as he surveys your body, “Nothing hurts?”
You can’t help but chuckle at his concern, so unused to men caring for you once they finish. “I’m fine, I assure you,” your lips quirk into a smile as you soothe his worries, a little sigh leaving your lips as you settle back against the silken sheets that cover the daybed. 
“Here,” Daemon grunts with indifference as he tosses a clean cloth at you, more than familiar with the layout of the place, “To clean yourself.”
You huff softly and roll your eyes playfully before grabbing the small towel and standing to wipe spend and extra oil from your skin, making a mental note to heat water for a proper bath as soon as the men leave. 
It’s then that it occurs to you that they may not let you stay, what if even this wasn’t enough to secure your freedom, to get them to overlook your transgressions? 
“So,” you start, discarding the cloth in a laundry basket by the vanity before turning and facing the men, surprised to find Harwin’s eyes already on you, “Forgive and forget, yes? The debt has been paid, etcetera?”
They share a look as they dress themselves, Daemon loosely pulling on his armor, opting to tuck most of it beneath an arm, though Harwin takes the time to fasten his properly. 
“Oh, I think you’ve more than convinced us to spare you, little minx,” the prince drawls, eyes roving over your still nude form as he approaches you and takes your chin between two long fingers, “As for your debt, well…”
You grin as he trails off, two pairs of purple eyes sliding over to Harwin. 
“There’s still the interest to consider,” he murmurs with a little chuckle, dark eyes sparkling with mirth.
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thank you for taking the time to read! hope you enjoyed! :)
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binniesbooks · 3 months ago
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heyyy! absolutely loved your 100 followers special fic like it was so insanely good!!!
please can i request a bsf!beomgyu fic where he discovers through porn that women can squirt and during your next hangout he asks you about it and when you tell him you can he gets all excited and asks you to show him. this then ends in him fucking you till you squirt on his dick multiple times. can you make both beomgyu and the reader a switch if you don’t mind and only if you’re comfortable tho :) the beomgyu brain rot is getting to me 😭
• IS IT TRUE?
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BG 001 .F23 2024
wc 3.6k
pairings bestfriend!Beomgyu x fem!reader
warnings switch reader x switch Gyu, mutual pining, porn watching, caught self relieving, oral sex (m. receiving), slight flood play, kissing, marking, unprotected sex, pull out method, squirting, mentions of hair pulling and scratching if you squint (+ anything I've missed)
faye's note I tried my best to make a great plot, I really did! I hope it worked. To the anon who requested this one, I'm sorry it took me so long, I was procrastinating, LMAO. SORRY 😭
"Beomgyu-" The nasty moans and lewd sounds coming from the computer were abruptly stopped when Beomgyu slammed his laptop shut. 
"What the fuck were you watching?" Yeonjun's brows creased as he stared at the younger awkwardly sitting on the bed, a pillow on his lap and a blanket covering his lower half.
"W-what?" Beomgyu stammered. 
Yeonjun's grin grew wider as his eyes scanned the room. A laptop that was forced shut, a box of tissues, a sweaty body in this air-conditioned room—what else was a guy to do, if not pleasure himself when alone?
"Damn, it looks like I've caught you at a bad time!" Yeonjun exclaimed, a faint chuckle rumbling within his chest. His teasing voice and giggles made Beomgyu blush.
"Okay, okay, I'll just talk to you later, take care of yourself first," Yeonjun said, throwing a knowing look and a teasing smile.
"H-hyung, hyung wait!" Beomgyu tried to stop Yeonjun, but the door was already shut. Besides, he can't just get up naked, can he?
He throws his head back against the pillow, groaning in embarrassment as he runs his palm against his face, muttering a frustrated "fuck" under his breath.
"So..." you started. "Why are you here again?"
"Can't a friend visit you? God, you're not as welcoming as before," Beomgyu barked, rolling his eyes as he threw the plastic bag full of snacks on the table and plopped down on your couch. And when he removes the hood of his jacket, he reveals the mess that was his hair underneath.
"I mean, you can, yeah. But... Do you know what time it is?" you replied, pulling your jacket against your body.
"3 o'clock," he answered.
"3 o'clock in what?"
"3 o'clock in the morning! But whatever!" he grunts, throwing a temper tantrum on the couch.
"Why are you here then?" you asked, sitting beside him.
"Just wanna see you. It's been a while," he muttered under his breath.
"You know you can't just drop by anytime, right?"
"I know, I know. I've just had trouble sleeping at night these past few days again," he sighed, leaning his head back on the couch.
"Am I your sleeping pill or something?" your brows raised and your voice teasing.
"What if I say that you're my medicine?" Beomgyu looked you straight in the eye. And there you are, embraced by his warm gaze, trapped inside the pretty door to his soul.
You leaned closer to him, planting a soft kiss on his cheek, running your fingers through his hair.
"Stay the night—or whatever you call the time now, I hope you have a good rest even if it's just for today." 
Beomgyu has been your friend since you were in your teenage years—typical. He shuts other girls off, as he only gives his attention to you. He doesn't want to be involved in any relationship of sort—that includes you, though. He may be your best friend, your best partner, but neither of you two admitted anything. Just two young hearts showing care and love towards each other. 
Some say you should date each other, which the two of you would only answer with a sheepish smile. Sometimes, he would drop by at your place, hang out with you, and enjoy the rest of his free time. You've been to his place a few times, but you insisted on him going to your place instead, since he's living with his friends. 
Often times, you'll share a kiss or two with him—anything but a kiss on the lips. He loves it when you sit on his lap while he plays at your computer, giving your shoulder a few bites and planting soft kisses. He loves cuddling you to sleep, draping his arm over your waist, pulling you closer to his chest, his warm breath fanning across your nape. 
Beomgyu could walk around your house half naked without you giving a fuck. He does anything as if it were his own home, and you don't mind at all. You're used to it, nothing new. 
Everything about this is pretty normal between the two of you. The kisses, the skinship, the hugs, the cuddles—anything that a 'just friends' friend won't normally do. Well, in your case, it was. 
"Can you come closer? I need to feel your warmth," Beomgyu pleaded, unzipping his jacket.
"Gyu, how much closer do you need me to be? Should I just sew my skin onto yours?" you chuckled as you shifted on the bed, scooting closer to him.
"I missed you. I missed holding you in my arms." he mumbles as he hugs you tight. 
"You're such a baby, Gyu. Do you know that?" you complained, burying your face in his chest, hugging him closer.
A few minutes had passed, yet Beomgyu was still awake. Busying himself with combing his fingers through your hair as he watches you peacefully sleep. 
His fingers traced the outline of your face. "I love you. I hope you know that," he whispered, planting a kiss to the top of your head before he shuts his eyes.
You woke up with heavy limbs draped upon your body. Beomgyu may have mistaken you for a pillow.
"Gyu... Gyu, you're so heavy, move over." Your voice cracked as you gasped for air.
"Gyu, what the hell, scoot over," you grunt again, trying to push him, but his body is far too big for you to push on your own.
"Choi Beomgyu!" You shouted.
Beomgyu squirmed. And instead of getting himself off of you, he pulled you even closer.
"What's your deal?" You frowned, trying to push him away.
Beomgyu grunts as he hides in your neck, rolling over, causing the two of you to crash down onto the floor. 
But instead of getting angry at him, your frown turned into a fit of laughter as you saw him wince and massage the back of his head and his buttocks.
"Did you have a good sleep?" you asked, stirring a cup of coffee.
"Mhm, I did, thank you. I'll get going now, the boys might already be looking for me," Beomgyu said as he pulled you in for a hug.
"You're not gonna eat breakfast here?"
His tall figure towers over you as he pinches your cheeks, "I'll do it next time. Let's have breakfast together next time, okay? Eat the snacks I brought earlier and take care of yourself." You watched him step out, closing the door behind him. 
It hadn't even been a whole 24 hours when he came back to your place.
"I wanna watch a movie; the guys are boring to be with!" he frowns, feigning frustration--- He actually never asked them to do so. Just a reason for him to drop by your place again.
"Bring the ice cream from the freezer, then," you said as you prepared the couch, bringing some soft pillows and a fuzzy blanket. 
You actually have no idea what the movie was all about. You even missed the title because you went to the restroom last minute. The only thing you know is that it's a 18+ rated movie. Well, it's not your first time watching something like this with Beomgyu, you've watched multiple movies that aren't child friendly. 
Plus, the fact that the two of you could even talk about anything sexual as if you're just talking about food and any other light topics makes this normal. Although sexually wise, neither one of you has experience. Considering that you both shut people away as if your world only revolves around each other.
And although this isn't the first time you're watching something like this with Beomgyu, it is the first time you saw him shove a pillow over his lap. It is the first time he's trying his best to avoid any skin contact with you. 
"Is everything okay? You're so distant," you commented, licking a spoonful of ice cream.
"Actually... There's.. there's something I want to ask," he started, turning his body to face you.
"That is?"
"That.. I.. Uhm, I just watched this from... You know..."
"Porn?" you bluntly answered.
"Y-yeah. And uh, is it true?"
"What's true? Geez, say it straight, Gyu," you rolled your eyes as you dug another spoonful of ice cream.
"Let me finish my sentence!" he pouts, making you chuckle. Beomgyu wasn't normally nervous around you, this is the first time.
"Is is true.. that.. girls can.. uhm.. the liquid... Like.." he continued stammering.
You looked at him straight in the eye and said, "That girls squirt?" Beomgyu nodded frantically as he tried to avert his gaze.
"It's more common than you think, Gyu," you answered as you returned your gaze to the movie. However, you're shocked about what's already happening on the TV. It was a fucking sex scene! Obscene sounds are coming from the speakers resonating in your living room. You gulped and shifted nervously.
"S-so you mean, you can do it?" Beomgyu dug his fingers into the pillow, his face painted with embarrassment and anticipation at the same time.
"Well..."
"Can you show it to me?" he said, cutting you off.
"W-what?" You looked at him in surprise. Why would a friend ask something like that?
"I.. I mean. I mean... Like..." he tried finding an appropriate approach.
"Are you initiating something, Choi Beomgyu?" You turned your whole body towards him. He bit his lower lip, his adams apple bobbed up and down as he gulped, swallowing the same embarrassment and sexual frustration.
"If... If you want to... I... I wanna see it.. I wanna see you," he whispered, his lips already red and swollen from how hard he was biting them. 
You weighed the pros and cons in your mind first. But, yeah, who cares? You're attracted to him anyway! It's a win-win situation, right?
"I swear, if you tell a single soul about this," you warned before straddling him, grabbing his shirt, and crashing your lips on his.
He forcefully pulled the pillow from his lap away, causing you to stumble a little, desperate to feel you even in the tiniest bit. His hands landed on your waist, trying to push you down on his lap.
You pulled away, "Stop. Hands off."
He stared at you with big puppy eyes and a pout, "Y/n," he whines. 
"Keep your hands off me if you want to know if it's true." Beomgyu placed his hand on his side. Trying his best not to touch you, gripping the fuzzy blanket instead, veins popping on his neck as he threw his head back. What a good day to wear sweats, he could fully feel you, and you could fully feel him hardening each second. 
Beomgyu used to order you around. He's a bit bitchy and bossy. Yet he's being pliant today. So you were enjoying this, watching him crumble under you, doing anything you were saying.
You moved your hips again, making him emit a desperate moan. Calling your name like the sex-deprived man he is, "P-please... Please it hurts..." he whines again, tears threatening to spill, nails almost tearing your blanket apart. Yet you grind again, teasing him some more. "If you cum too early, you'll end up not knowing whether it's true," you taunt. So he bucks his hips up, along with loud moans and whimpers, drowning the long forgotten movie in the background, too desperate and stimulated.
"M-more..." he whispered under his breath, almost unheard if you didn't pay attention, not wanting to get ahead of himself. 
You stopped your movement, making him groan and gasp. But blush crept up his pretty face when you moved down between his legs, spreading them open, kissing the tent on his sweats. He drapes his arm on his face as he throws his head back. He didn't know this would happen. He only asked if you could show him how you squirt, but he didn't expect for you to give him more.
"Y/n," he muttered, his hand muffling his mouth, "I-if you don't f-feel like it, you d-don't have to do this...."
"You don't want this, Gyu?" He looked down at you, only to throw his head back again when he saw you pouting with big round eyes. 
"Fuck..." He sighed, "Can I at least hold your head?"
And you let him. You let him tangle his fingers on your hair, but he's not allowed to push you down. You let him grip on your hair, but he's not allowed to pull you back.
As you pulled his sweats down, he tried his best to look at you. But he would end up closing his eyes because he can't look at you straight in the eye. 
"I won't give you a head if you don't look at me," you giggled, making him whine for the nth time.
And so he tried his best to maintain eye contact. Even when he's struggling to keep his eyes open because it feels too good. Even when he could only gasp because you're doing your best to take him whole in your mouth. He heard you gag over and over, yet he can only tangle his fingers in your hair gripping it. He wants to push you down, to fuck your pretty little mouth, to cum already, but he's waiting for your signal. He wants to be a good boy for you. He wants to be good. He wants you to praise him. He wants you to shower him with kisses later on because he was obliging to your commands.
And an idea came to your mind. You scooped out some of the melted ice cream and let it drip on his fully erect and wet cock. Beomgyu whimpers at the cold sensation.
"T-that's... Ahhh..." His voice was too shaky as he tried to form a sentence. Which he wasn't very successful in doing.
You carefully licked the melted ice cream, pushing your tongue on his slit.
"Y/n, c-can I cum? It.. ahh.. it hurts s-so much, p-please," he pleaded, drool rolling down from the corner of his lips, crying.
"Since you're too pretty, sure," you smiled sweetly, full of innocence. He lets go of your hair, placing them down on the couch, clutching on the blanket again. With one thrust in your mouth, he came undone, shooting spurts of sticky white cum inside your mouth. 
Beomgyu tried catching his breath as he looked down at you. He reached for your face, pressing on each side to make you open it. He watched your tongue swirl around the pool of his cum. Beomgyu pressed his thumb on your tongue, playing with his cum. "Swallow."
With a single command, you quickly obliged, swallowing the mix of sweet and salty taste from his cum and the ice cream. This time you felt so little under him as you sat on the floor between his legs. You opened your mouth for him to check. "Good girl," he smiled as he pulled you up, making you straddle him again.
"Did you enjoy your time ordering me around, baby?" He asked, tucking your hair behind your ear. You smiled at him, nodding with a wide grin.
His hand ran lower to your chest, touching your breast, causing you to bite your lower lip. 
"Tell me, why aren't you wearing a bra, hm?" He stared at you straight in the eye, raising his eyebrow, looking for a proper answer.
"I didn't know you were gonna drop by again," you pout.
"I see," he said, pinching your nipple.
"G-gyu..." you whimpered.
"Hm?" You looked away, clutching at the hem of your shirt. 
Beomgyu rolls your nipples against his finger again, making you quiver.
"G-gyu!" You moaned, holding his wrist. 
"What is it? Are you lost?" he chuckled, pulling your nipple.
"Ahh! Shit! Mhhmp!" you collapsed above him, hiding in his neck, whimpering and whining over and over again. You heard him let out a hearty chuckle again before wrapping his arms around your waist. 
"Too much?" he asked, and you nodded as an answer. "Okay, okay, I won't do it again, remove your pajama," he whispered.
You get off of him to discard your silk pajama, before repositioning yourself on top of him again. He kissed your forehead and played a little with the band of your panties.
Aligning his tip on your clothed pussy, he tried thrusting, teasing you, and smirking at how you squirm and pout at the stimulation.
Yet when he pushed your panties to the side, he saw the sticky wetness on the cloth from your hole. "So you're ordering me around while you're being wet like this, am I right?" he grinned.
He started teasing your pussy, pushing his red tip and letting it slide away. "Aww, too bad, I think it won't fit," he pouts, still teasing you. You whined back, wanting to feel him bare.
He teased you more and more. Until you couldn't take it anymore as you rose to your knees and aligned him against your hole, forcing your way down. You ended up collapsing in his arms again. Not prepared at all as you felt a burning pain from the stretch of his fat cock.
"God fucking damn it, don't do that again, you'll end up hurting yourself," Beomgyu winces as he tries to soothe you by combing your hair and kissing your face.
"No matter how desperate you want to feel me, don't do that again, okay? I haven't even properly stretched you out yet," he whispered, rubbing your back.
"Come here," he pulled your face to give you a kiss. A kiss that washed the pain away. Tongues fighting, teeth clashing, saliva mixing. It was nasty, lewd, and filthy. Yet you love it, moaning at the feeling. Especially when Beomgyu started to thrust his hips up, slowly training you with his size. 
His lips traveled down to your neck, leaving splotchy red marks and wet open-mouthed kisses in his wake. His hand fully grasped your breasts, slowly massaging them, occasionally rolling your nipples beneath his fingers, enjoying the way you moan his name in his ear as you catch your breath. 
Then he pulled away, holding your waist as he started his precise and delicious thrusts. 
"Deep?" he asked, tilting his head to the side with a grin. You nodded, both of your hands on his chest to keep your balance.
"How deep?" he smirked.
"H-here," you managed, pulling his hand and letting him press on your abdomen. You whimpered when he pressed harder, making you feel every curve and vein of his cock.
"Will you show me how you squirt? How did you find out you can?" he bombed you with questions, still maintaining his pace in thrusting inside your gummy walls.
"W-will show you G-gyu, will do... I ..ahh.. f-found out... One time when I t-touched myself," you started. "W-when you c-called me.. mmmph! W-with your morning voi....voice."
"You're touching yourself to my voice? Fuck, how desperate are you?" he scoffed, thrusting harder.
"W-wait! Ahh! Too m-much! Gyu!" You hid on his neck again, feeling so little and inferior. 
"I-it was only one time! I.. I never did it again!" You managed to squeak out, voice muffled on his neck.
"Then let's make you squirt again, yeah?" he sneered, pulling you back by your hair as you groan at the pleasuring pain spreading through your scalp.
He lifted you up for a bit, and he started fucking your hole with a faster and rougher pace. "Squirt on my cock, squirt on my cock." He kept on repeating it over gritted teeth, adding force to every thrust.
"G-gyu, w-wait, I'm gonna cum--" Clear liquid came out gushing from your hole, pushing his cock out along with your creamy cum, soiling your couch.
"Fuck.. do it again!" His grin grew wider as he lifted you up again and thrusted even harder with greater force.
"Gyu! Gyu! Beomgyu!" You chanted his name over and over again, your toes curled and your stomach twisted at the overstimulation. Yet he kept on fucking into you.
And again, you let out a gush of clear liquid. Whole body spasming above Beomgyu. His cock twitches as he pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek. 
"T-this is dirty G-gyu," you muttered below your breath, body spent as you found support from his shoulder.
"No. I like it. This is fucking hot. Makes me wanna fuck you more," he laughs.
You eyes flicker across the room. The couch, the blanket, and the pillows were wet. The chocolate-flavored ice cream smeared on his pants.
Beomgyu slowly slides himself inside you again, thrusting more precisely, wanting to cum inside you this time. He buried his face in your neck as he pushed your hips down. 
"F-fuck! Wanna fill you up!" 
"P-pull out, Gyu! Please!" you pleaded, clawing his back.
Beomgyu pulls out. Hissing through his teeth, he pumped his cock a few times and ended up cumming on your tummy. 
"Fuck," he pants, leaning back on the couch and pulling you to his chest. 
You heard how his heart thumped so hard and how his breathing was so ragged. You buried your face in his neck, allowing your heart to calm down. And realization settled in. You just had sex with your best friend.
"If you won't still ask me to date you after today, I'll ask Kai out, I know he likes me." You muttered, feigning nonchalance.
"What the fuck? Do you want me to tell them how good I made you feel?" he taunts, tangling his fingers in your hair as he gives it a little pull, making you moan.
"See? Only I am allowed to see you like this, to make you so spent like this, understood?" he frowns.
"Only if you date me," you said as you latched your lips on his neck, leaving a mark of ownership.
"Fuck," he scoffed, touching the part where you left a mark when you pulled away. 
@binniesbooks 2024
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rosyblooom · 7 months ago
Text
a in anniversary is for apple pie! | cl16 smau
PAIRING: charles leclerc x wife!reader SUMMARY: charles and y/n return from their wedding anniversary dinner to find their daughter still awake and adamant about wanting the apple pie she was promised tonight! A/N: tysm for 500 followers🥹 pls accept this entirely sweet & happy fic as a token of my appreciation🫶
creds to @classiclitfreak for proofreading <3
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⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙
charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 901,885 others
charles_leclerc Happy wedding anniversary to my beautiful wife, Y/N. You hold my heart in the palm of your hands, but I couldn't imagine it safer anywhere else. I'm excited for more, mon cœur 🙏❤️
vie all 7,264 comments
username wake up babe new photos of charles and y/n's secret wedding just dropped
username these crumbs are actually such nasty work smh😩 they're sick! username can't wait to see to finally see the whole wedding in 60 years🥲
username IS THIS TOO MUCH TO ASK FOR OMFG
yourusername iIy baby🥰🥰
charles_leclerc ❤️ username y'all are too cute 🤧 username I LOVE YOU GUYS SM!!!!
username still can't believe charles has a wife and it isn't me😭
username oh to be called mon cœur by charles leclerc...
username if you zoom in on the 3rd pic you'll see me face down in the ocean😔
username omg that makes two of us !! TWINNING😜
charles_leclerc posted to his story!
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[ caption: Wow. ]
yourusername posted to her story!
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[ caption: mon amour ❤️ ]
[ tagged: charles_leclerc ]
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Fumbling, you struggle to insert the key into the lock, a task made unexpectedly difficult by your husband's impatience. His gentle kisses land on the nape of your neck, his soft whispers proving to be an unwelcome distraction. "Stop it! Can't you wait until we're inside?" you scold, attempting to maintain focus. But his arms remain securely wrapped around your waist, his affectionate gestures relentless. "Remember, we have to face the babysitter the moment we open the door."
"Mhm," Charles hums against your skin, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine and a suppressed smile to your lips. You curse silently at the six-inch heels you foolishly chose, your knees growing weaker with each passing second, the shoes only exacerbating the situation.
With a soft click, the door swings open, a rush of relief flooding through you as you silently thank your lucky stars. But before you can fully absorb the scene, the familiar sound of footsteps, accompanied by a beloved voice, reaches your ears.
"Maman!" Your daughter's enthusiastic embrace threatens to topple you as her tiny arms envelop your thighs. The warmth of Charles beside you momentarily dissipates as he steps back, a look of surprise crossing his features.
Running a hand through his beard, he gently tousles D/N's hair as he asks, "What are you doing up so late, love?"
Annie, your babysitter, interjects with a sheepish grin. "I'm sorry, I tried to get her to bed, but she insisted you guys were making apple pie tonight." She scratches the back of her neck, shrugging apologetically. "I did my best, but this little one is quite determined, as I've come to learn. Right, D/N?" Annie redirects her attention downward, addressing your daughter.
“You promised me apple pie, Maman!” D/N's insistent plea rings out, her small fingers grasping the fabric of your dress. “And I want it now! I want it now! I want it now!”
Kneeling down to her level, you gently place a finger to your lips. “Alright, D/N, I can hear you, but not so loud. Remember, at night-time, we use our inside voice, okay?” Tenderly, you intertwine your hands with hers, tracing comforting circles on the back of her hands.
D/N nods solemnly and whispers, “You promised me you’d make apple pie, and I want it now. Papa,” she turns her pleading gaze to Charles, releasing herself from your grasp and wrapping her arms around him. “I’ve been waiting all day for this, please, Papa.”
Motioning for you to handle the situation with Annie, Charles scoops D/N up, settling her on his hip before disappearing down the hallway and into the kitchen.
You straighten up, offering Annie an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry about that,” you say, reaching into your bag and retrieving an envelope labelled ‘Annie’s pay’. With a gentle gesture, you extend your arm, offering it to her. “This covers today, plus a tip, of course.”
Annie shakes her head, pushing the envelope back towards you. “I can’t accept this. I mean, I failed at getting her to sleep.”
“What?” You try to keep your voice steady, but frustration seeps through. “No, absolutely not.” Determinedly, you grasp her hand, pressing the envelope into her palm before folding it closed. “This is your money; you showed up today and did amazing, as usual. I promised D/N something, so that’s on me, really.”
She tilts her head, her brows furrowing slightly. “Are you sure, Mrs. Leclerc?”
You let out a hum. “How many times do I have to tell you? It’s just Y/N. None of that Mrs. stuff in this house, please,” you chuckle, “you're making me feel old.”
“Right, sorry, Y/N,” Annie quickly corrects herself.
Satisfied, you nod. “We’re getting there… But yes, I am absolutely sure. You deserve every single cent. Seriously,” you emphasise, “you’re a huge help to my family.”
"Alright, thank you, Y/N," Annie retrieves her bag from the hook on the wall and opens the door. "Have a good night."
"You too, Annie. Thanks again."
With a sudden slam, the door startles you for a moment before you release a long breath. You kick off your heels, relieved to be free of the "death traps" as you call them. As your feet meet the cool marble floor, a wave of calm washes over you, releasing the tension from your shoulders. It's exactly what you needed. Feeling much better, you slip off your coat and hang it beside the door before making your way into the kitchen.
A short while later…
"Alright," you lean over the counter, your forearms resting on the cool top, a warmth spreading through your heart as you watch Charles holding D/N in his arms, gently swaying side to side as they dance.
"That's what your mum and I were doing after we finished eating," he whispers.
D/N's high-pitched giggles fill the room, her tiny hand gripping a couple of Charles' fingers. "I want to come next time," she says, turning her head towards you. "Please, please, can I come next time, Maman?"
"Yes," you smile, "of course. Next time, you'll join us for our little anniversary date, okay?"
"Yay!" your daughter raises her hands in excitement, her face beaming.
Recalling the original plan, you clap your hands together. "Alright, D/N, are you still sure you want apple pie tonight? Not tomorrow or the day af—?"
"No, no, no!" she interrupts. "I want apple pie now!"
"Okay, okay… Time to wash your hands then, honey."
D/N squirms in Charles' grip, and when he finally releases her, she races for the sink in the corner of the room, immediately flicking the tap on.
Charles chuckles at the sight before turning his attention to you, stepping closer. You straighten up from the counter just in time as his hands envelop you, trapping you between the counter and his body.
"Looks like our plans will have to wait until later, huh?" you whisper, your voice taking on a sultry tone as your fingers trail up his broad chest, halting on his black tie, starting to unravel it.
Charles leans down, his warm breath slipping into the gap between your parted lips, the sweet tinge of red wine coating your tongue. "Looks like it… But I can wait, mon cœur," his voice resonates breathily as he closes the remaining distance between your faces, his soft lips meeting yours, hungry yet gentle. The kiss is brief, barely lasting long enough for you to savour the moment, though he captures your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging at it slightly before releasing his hold and pulling away.
Remembering your husband’s earlier impatience when you were struggling to open the front door, you fold his tie and set it aside before raising a single brow, asking, “Oh, can you now?”
Charles nods with a sly smile, but before he can respond, D/N beats him to it, diverting your attention as she waltzes towards you.
“Hands are washed!” she exclaims, shaking her hands dry.
"Good job, darling." You slip from Charles’ embrace, grabbing the kitchen roll off the counter and passing it to D/N. "Here."
Once you and Charles have washed your hands, you begin assigning roles. "Baby," you address your husband, pointing, "You’ll chop up the apples, and D/N…" You tilt your head down at your daughter standing in the middle of the kitchen, her smile brimming with excitement. "Do you want to make the shortcrust pastry with me, honey?"
To your surprise, D/N shakes her head and rushes to Charles’ side, her cheek pressed against him. "I want to do what Papa is doing. I don’t want to work with you, Maman."
The admission elicits laughter from you and Charles, his chuckles resonating loudly through the room as D/N pulls open a few drawers and retrieves a butter knife and a chopping board before settling down at the dining table, her back turned to you.
As you turn around, you feel Charles’ strong arms enclose around your waist, his warm hands settling onto your stomach as he whispers into your ear, "You heard the little lady. Everything's just so much more fun with her dad, you know?"
“Shut the fuck up” you quip, jabbing him with your elbow.
“I heard that!”
D/N's words cause you to pivot, fixing your gaze on the back of her head. “I’m sorry, D/N, I shouldn’t have said that,” you concede, shooting a discreet glance at Charles. “It’s just that your father has a knack for being an annoying sh—” You cut yourself off before the insult fully forms, forcing a tight-lipped smile as Charles's laughter reverberates. “Let’s just say, he can be an annoying husband sometimes, you know?”
“No! Papa is never annoying, you’re wrong,” she counters, shooting you a reproachful look before redirecting her attention to Charles, waving. “Come on, Papa, I really want apple pie. Hurry up, I’ve already started!”
“Coming, my love,” Charles murmurs softly, turning back to you and lifting your chin with a gentle touch. He places a tender kiss on your lips, then rests his forehead against yours. “So, I’m an annoying husband, huh?”
You smile and give a nonchalant shrug. “I could've said worse, trust me.”
“Papa!” D/N's voice rings out.
Charles barely flinches at your daughter's outburst, only chuckling softly and shaking his head as he moves toward the dining table, grabbing a cutting board and a knife along the way.
“Guys, we only need about eight to ten apples!” you call out from across the kitchen.
Charles winks at you. “Perfect, we have nine.”
Without further delay, you gather the ingredients for a shortcrust pastry and begin to mix them together.
Some time later…
As you finish rolling out the second dough, D/N rushes over, balancing a large bowl of sliced apples in her arms, and exclaims, “Here, Maman! We finished!”
"Thank you so much, my love," you reply, guiding her to settle the bowl onto the counter before heading towards the oven to turn it on.
Charles lifts D/N onto the counter, and you reach into the cupboard to retrieve the cinnamon, salt, flour, and sugar, handing them to your daughter. With a few instructions, she sprinkles the ingredients into the bowl of apples and begins stirring eagerly.
As D/N continues, you feel Charles' arms wrap around you, and he mischievously pinches the side of your waist, prompting you to shriek and swat his hand away, shooting him a playful glare. "Stop that!"
Once everything's mixed together, D/N eagerly assists you in assembling the pie while Charles holds open the oven door for you to slide it in.
"Perfect," you exclaim, clapping your hands together. "We did really well."
D/N squeals with excitement, jumping up and down before extending her hand towards you, palm facing up. "High-five, Maman!"
You promptly oblige, meeting her hand with yours before she moves on to Charles.
Two hours later…
"Two scoops of vanilla ice cream on your slice?" you inquire, arching an eyebrow at your daughter, who struggles to keep her head up, her eyes fluttering closed momentarily before snapping back open.
"Huh?" she mumbles, rubbing her eyes. "Yes, I'm starving, Maman."
You share a knowing glance with Charles, his dimples appearing as he smiles.
With a nod of understanding, you heap two scoops of ice cream onto her slice of golden apple pie, pushing the plate towards D/N.
Both you and Charles observe quietly as she struggles to eat even a single forkful before conceding defeat with a sigh.
Looking up from her plate, D/N's eyes flit between you and Charles, a sheepish smile playing on her lips. "Actually... I'm not hungry anymore." Before you can respond, she hops up from her seat, declaring, "I'm tired. I’m going to bed now."
She gives Charles a goodnight hug, then comes to you, avoiding eye contact as she quickly embraces you. "Good night, Maman."
In the blink of an eye, she vanishes from the kitchen, her footsteps on the marble floor echoing faintly as she races down the corridor, until they're drowned out by the resounding slam of her bedroom door.
You and Charles share a glance, both of you unable to contain your laughter.
After the laughter subsides, you stand up, holding D/N’s plate, and remark, “I’ll pop this in the freezer.”
As you finish storing everything away, Charles rinses the final plate and settles it onto the drying rack. Patting his hands on a paper towel, he fixes you with a tender gaze.
Though you know it's irrational, a wave of insecurity washes over you, making you acutely aware of all your perceived flaws.
"I love you. Happy wedding anniversary to us, mon cœur," Charles' sweet words halt your anxious thoughts as he closes the distance between you, burying his face into the crook of your neck.
Your breath catches as his tongue traces patterns across your collarbone, his teeth gently nibbling at your flesh.
It takes considerable effort to suppress a moan, but you manage to respond, "I love you, baby. Here's to at least eighty more."
You feel Charles' smile against your skin before he raises his head, eliciting a whimper as the cool air grazes your now raw neck. Before the sound can fully escape, Charles silences it by pressing his lips firmly against yours. The tension that had built up earlier floods over you like a tsunami, his hands exploring your body as your tongues dance, vying for dominance, until he breaks away abruptly.
Both of you are left breathless.
Once he catches his breath, Charles extends his hand to you, which you grasp eagerly—you need all the support you can get to avoid collapsing onto the floor; your legs feel like jelly.
Noticing your predicament, Charles' lips curl into a proud smile, prompting an eye roll from you as he effortlessly scoops you into his arms, bridal style, and plants a tender kiss on your cheek.
"I think we should continue this in the bedroom, mon cœur," he whispers, carrying you down the hallway, anticipation making your teeth capture your bottom lip.
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yourusername
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liked by iamrebbecad, charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes, and 599,042 others
yourusername I've loved you three six summers now, honey, but I want 'em all... 💕
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username not taylor's 'lover' omg stoppp😭😭😭
username aww there's something so special about seeing childhood friends turn into lovers🥹🫶
username dear lord... i see what you've done for others🧎‍♀️
username lool🤣
charles_leclerc Sounds like a beautiful plan ❤️
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username alright that's enough internet for today🤧
username AHHH THE 3RD PIC WITH D/N??? I'M CRYING
username if they ever break up, I'll stop believing in love cause wdym
username girl don't speak that shit into existence !! username wait you're right SRY I TAKE IT BACK PLSS
1:11 ───ㅇ───────── 3:25
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miley1442111 · 6 months ago
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Heyyy!! Would you be interested in writing an angst aaron and bau!reader fic where they're in an established relationship for quite a while now and even have a kid together other than jack. they having relationship problems tho and maybe decided to take some time off their relationship temporarily. so reader takes her and aarons kid in their time off and jack is with aaron. angst where poor jack feels abandoned by reader and thinks she's leaving them cause both the adults are too prideful to talk everything out and make it work. (you can write it however like btw but hopefully with a happy ending 🤞🤍🤍🤍)
i love this idea, sorry i let it sit for so long! only realised i hadn't posted this now :0
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pinky promises-a.hotchner
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a/n: fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)
summary: how you and aaron worry jack, and how aaron finds something out 20 years later.
pairing: aaron hotchner x reader
warnings: angst, fighting, mentions of divorce, jack being upset, etc.
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It had been weeks and weeks of pointless fighting. You were exhausted. Aaron was exhausted. 
“What do you want me to say about it Aaron?” You sighed, exasperation running through your bones. 
“I want you to say anything!” He shouted. You felt a wire snap inside you. Aaron never shouted at you. He knew how horrible he was being. He knew how bad you felt. He knew that this was a stupid thing to be fighting about.
“I’m going to my brother’s house, how about that?” You sighed. “Is that what you wanted me to say?” 
Aaron rolled his eyes, irritated at your dramatics. When he came home from one of the worst cases he’d been on for a while, all he’d wanted was to wrap you up in his arms and not let you go. But of course, he had to ruin it by starting an argument. You were 7 months postpartum, he shouldn’t have been picking fights and he knew it. But he was just so irritated. He realised something, he was taking the worst parts of his job home with him again.
“I need a break from it Aaron, alright. I’ll take Marcy and you’ll get some real sleep for a weekend and we’ll calm down and talk on Monday, alright?” 
Some sleep sounded great. Calming down sounded great. Reconciling sounded great. “Alright,” he nodded curtly. 
“Alright,” you sighed. You had never wanted it to come to this. He promised you it wouldn’t come to this. 
Yet it had. 
“I’ll pack a bag for you,” He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek as he started to walk off but you grabbed his hand and kissed it softly.
“I love you. Always,” you reminded him. His heart melted a little bit. 
“I love you too.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------ While you and Aaron were busy fighting, Jack was in his playroom down the hall. He was terrified, you were leaving? You were taking Marcy? 
What would happen to him? He’d already lost his mom, he couldn’t lose you too.
“Honey?” He whispered as you passed the playroom. He’d picked up the habit of calling you ‘honey’ the same way Aaron did. 
“Hey Jackers,” you smiled through the inner monologue running through your head. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?” 
Jack thought this would be his last time with you tucking him in, so he got up immediately and hugged your legs. You chuckled at his antics, unaware of his anxieties, and picked him up in your arms. 
“Can I say goodnight to Marcy?” He asked and you nodded.
“Of course you can, I’ll get your dad as well, we can all say goodnight,” You smiled.
Jack, being the little profiler he was, noticed the way you’d said ‘his dad’ not just ‘dad’. His stomach dropped. He felt sick, the kind of sick he felt before he vomited.  Jack ran into Marcy’s nursery as you went to find Aaron.
“Ok Marcy, I love you, I don’t say it enough,” he whispered into her cot as she slept soundly. “I hope I was a good big brother, you were a great little sister-”
“What are you doing jack?” You asked, worried  and confused by his actions. Aaron stood behind you, his signature frown painted on his face. 
Jack started crying and both you and Aaron ran to him, wrapping him up in your arms. After a few minutes of calming him down, and calming Marcy down after she woke up with Jack crying, you sat on the floor of the nursery beside Aaron as Jack explained. 
“WellIheardyouguysfightingandIknowY/nisgoingawaynowandI’llmissher-” He rushed out but Aaron held up a hand to stop him. 
“Slowly Jack, slowly,” he reminded him and Jack crawled into Aaron’s lap and whispered it to him. 
“I heard you two fighting, and it was like when mom and you used to fight, so I know it means that Y/n and Marcy are going away now, like when you went away and I’m sad because I’ll miss them like I miss mommy,” he sniffled as Aaron’s heart broke. His eyes filled with tears that he forced himself to swallow, the task almost proving too difficult. He looked at you, your head in your hands, you’d heard him too. 
“Jack, your dad and I aren’t breaking up, we’re both just really stressed right now and we thought it would be a good idea to give each other some space. The only reason I’d take Marcy is because I have to breastfeed her,” you explained, your voice breaking. “I love your dad so much, and I love you so much, I could never leave you,” you smiled sadly and took his hand. “Remember the pinky promise I made to you on my wedding day? I meant that.”
Aaron’s ears peaked up as Jack nodded. There was something unspoken about the way that Jack seemed to relax at your words, his entire body lacking any and all tension in mere seconds. 
What was the pinky promise?
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Aaron walked out of Jack’s bedroom and leant against the door of your bedroom, watching you read your book. When you looked up, you were reminded of a younger Aaron, the one you'd met in college when he was with Haley. You felt awful having a massive crush on one of your friend’s boyfriend so you steered clear of him. Who knew you’d be here now? His wife. The mother to his children. 
“Hey handsome,” you smiled at him. 
“I don’t want space. Please don’t leave,” he asked, not meeting your eyes. 
“Let’s be honest, we both know I wasn’t getting over the threshold of my brother’s place before I ran back,” you smiled. Aaron plunked himself down beside you, lying down and pressing kisses against your neck. 
“I’m sorry I picked a fight,” he sighed.
“Sorry I kept it going,” you whispered, kissing his head. 
“So we're alright?” he asked hopefully.
“Yes, we’re ok,” you chuckled. His hands wrapped around you, pulling himself closer into your comforting embrace. For a few minutes, he tried to read your book alongside you, but his question still nagged, what was the promise?
“You want to know what the promise was, don’t you,” you chuckled.
“Yes,” he admitted, a shy smile on his face.
“Too bad,” you smirked, making him roll his eyes. 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------It was 20 years later that he found out what the promise was, on Jack’s wedding day.
“Now, probably 20 odd years or so, I made a promise to Jack on my wedding day,” you admitted in your speech. Aaron’s interest peaked once more. “I promised him that I would love him and his dad as long as they allowed me to. That as long as Jack wanted me there, I would be. I told him he could call it off at any time, if anything was ever too much for him or if he hated me when he became a teenager. I promised him I’d go without a word of his involvement. I swore that I’d love him until the minute he didn't want me there, and even then that I'd just love him from far away. But I’m so happy you let me stay around Jack, you’ve become quite the amazing person,” you smiled through tears as he held your hand in his, just like he had all those years ago. Aaron’s heart swelled. You’d thought about Jack since day one. When your speech was finished, Aaron pulled you away from the rest of the party to kiss you in the beautiful sunset, the same venue you two had gotten married in. 
He loved you.
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criminal minds masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)
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onlymingyus · 19 days ago
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Unconditional (Patreon Exclusive Bonus)
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pairing; jeon wonwoo x f reader
genre; smut (minor dni), fluff
summary; She deservеs to be loved with no limit out loud. This thing, we got's, that's unconditional.
content warnings; sugar daddy!wonwoo, sugar baby!reader, simp!wonwoo, they are so incredibly in love it's sickening, alludes to marriage
smut warnings; slight dom!wonwoo, very slight dom/sub dynamics, unprotected sex, cockwarming, taking during sex photos to keep/use, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise, petnames, mentions of aftercare
w/c; 4.9k and some change (417 this teaser)
unconditional - jaeyhun
a/n; thank you to @junkissed for proofreading 🩷 and suggesting I write a little drabble for my Peaches. I hope you guys like it. I am still working on TKG so this is just a little something something while I do.
this fic is a Patreon exclusive bonus drabble -- to read this drabble subscribe to my Patreon and click here
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With a shopping bag hanging from his fingers, Wonwoo pulls the keycard from his jacket as a smirk pulls at his lips. It had been too long since he had seen you. He could count down the time to the very minute if he really wanted to, but the moment the suite door opens and your sweet perfume hits his nose, every logical thought is lost. 
You had woken up to the plane tickets waiting in your email and a single text message from your boyfriend. 
Wonwoo💗: Get your pretty ass on that plane, baby 
After an eight-hour first-class flight, you found yourself pouting when Wonwoo wasn’t the first face you saw waiting for you. You knew he was a busy man; that was why you found yourself being flown around the country and sometimes around the world for even just a night in his arms, but even the two dozen roses that now lay on the dresser of your suite hadn’t made up for his absence just yet. 
Following the scent of honey, Wonwoo grins as he leans against the wall, letting his eyes move over your body as you rest on your stomach on the oversized bed. You hadn’t been there long, but it was still too long without you being in his arms. You were the most gorgeous woman he had ever met, and the moment he saw you for the first time, he knew that you were going to be his. 
Crossing your ankles, you run a well-manicured finger over the screen of your phone as a pout plays on your lips. You thought Wonwoo would have finished his day by now. He was the one who had flown you out here, and now he was making you lay in some hotel, no matter how nice it was, without him. It was torture. That was until you felt fingers run along your calf and heard his breathy chuckle turn into a deep groan at the feel of your skin under his hand. 
“And I thought you’d change and get comfortable, sweetheart.” 
Wonwoo grins when you drop your phone and start to turn over, only to whine when his hand keeps you in place. 
“Please, Wonwoo… It’s been forever since I’ve seen you. This isn’t fair.” 
“It’s not?” Dropping the bag next to his feet, Wonwoo uncrosses your ankles before carefully unclasping your shoe, finally letting you lean on your side so you can watch him. “I’m sorry, baby girl. Have I neglected you?” 
READ THE ENTIRE DRABBLE
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© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.
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muniimyg · 20 days ago
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𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!yoongi (7) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹
series m.list // taglist
note: yoongi and oc have the what r we talk,, have a few awh moments,, and r jus so cute... anyways,, my apologies as i'll be fixing my taglist next week ,, too busy n just trying to push out content lol !!! also PLEASE BE SURE TO LEAVE UR @ IN THE COMMENT BOX FOR SPECIFIC FIC TAGLIST STUFF (in the taglist form)
EDIT: mochi < injeolmi
//
as yoongi stands outside your door with a plastic bag swinging in one hand—all he can really think about is how amused he is from the 2AM craving text.
he takes a breath, raises his hand to knock, but the door opens before he can and there you stand with puffy cheeks streaked with the telltale signs of crying. 
his smile drops instantly.
“hey,” yoongi’s voice softens, concern etching into his features. “___, what happened? w-why are you crying?”
you try to muster a smile but fail. your lips tremble as you glance at the bag in his hand. letting out a shaky laugh, you wipe your face and take a deep breath in. 
“i don’t even really want pickles and peanut butter,” you admit. “i just… it’s… this isn’t about a pregnancy craving, yoongi.” 
yoongi’s brows knit together and he steps forward. closing the space between you two, suddenly you feel a rush of guilt. 
“okay, then what is it about?” his voice is gentle. he places the bag on the floor so he can rest a hand on your arm, grounding and reassuring. "everything okay? you okay?"
you looks up at him, eyes glassy and full of a vulnerability. 
“i just…” you take another breath, steadying yourself. “i didn’t know how to tell you i wanted you here. just you. no excuses, no weird cravings.”
yoongi’s eyes widen, confusion and something else flashing across his face.
“wait—you could’ve just asked me to come over. i would’ve dropped everything to be here. you know that, right?”
a tear slips down your cheek. shaking your head, a sad smile forms. 
“yeah. we’re friends, yoongi, but we’re not friends.” you say, emphasizing the word. a pang of bitterness lingers. “we’re not close like that. i guess i’m just freaking out because as much as i want this—fuck, i want this so bad… i’m upset that i’m having a baby with someone i can’t even ask to come over without making up an excuse. does that make sense?”
yoongi’s heart clenches. 
he’s struck speechless for a moment. then he sighs and runs his hand through his hair. 
“i get it,” he says quietly. his hand still rests on your arm. he squeezes it lightly. “can i come in? let’s talk about this please.”
you nod and move aside for him. 
yoongi steps into your apartment, closing the door softly behind him.
he heads to the kitchen, methodically placing the jars of pickles and peanut butter on the counter. his movements are slower than usual as the weight of the moment settles in. 
when he turns, he watches you retreat toward your bedroom and for a second—confusion prickles at the back of his mind. 
why aren’t we sitting in the living room? he wonders. 
he’s never been inside your bedroom before. 
… but he follows you anyway, trailing behind you like a shadow.
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the room feels more intimate than he expected.
the walls holding a quiet familiarity, but also the tension of something unspoken. you two stand there for a beat, the silence stretching until you blurt out;
“s-sorry. uh, the couch makes my back hurt if i sit there too long. i’m more comfortable in here. is that okay?” 
yoongi takes in your words, a small pang of concern for her comfort, and nods, his usual nonchalance cracking just a bit. 
then, you both settle on the bed.
the awkwardness between you two is palpable. yoongi braces himself for the conversation they both know is coming, hoping the closeness will bridge the distance they’ve been struggling to cross.
“are you regretting this?” you ask, voice quiet and afraid. 
yoongi shakes his head instantly. 
“no. i’m not,” he answers. “are you?”
you also shake your head. 
“no… but, i do wish i thought it through more.” 
he titls his head. “specifically about what? about me?”
you bite bottom lip, trying to find the words to explain how you feel about him. how you feel about everything between you two…
and it’s hard.
it’s difficult because you never had to think twice about yoongi and your friendship.
friends. 
until sometimes, when you two are alone.. it’s friends. 
“let’s be honest,” yoongi begins, cutting your thoughts short. “we’ve always had this weird… in-between thing. but if you need me, you don’t have to make excuses. i’m already here, aren't i? and i’m committed to the baby—our baby. to you, even… so, tell me where your headspace is at. i’ll match it. i’ll place myself in between where you need me and where i want to be for you. you just have to tell me what you want, ___.”
you look at him, eyes searching his for something… then, yoongi continues, his voice sincere and steady.
“we’re about to have a child together, yeah, but more than that… i care about you. always have. so, please don’t think that you have to put up walls or hide what you need from me, okay? i want to see through it. i want to see through you.”
you take a breath, relief washing over her as you nod. 
“okay.” 
and in that small word, a bridge starts to form between them—something real and raw and hopeful.
you and yoongi have never been close. 
there has never been a moment where you were in trouble and thought to yourself; shit i need yoongi’s help.
no. 
there was always hyemi, nam joon, jin, hoseok, jimin, taehyung and jungkook before yoongi. not that you liked him the least—if anything; considering the current happenings—maybe you like him the most. but besides that, you two are truly just decent friends. 
everyone in the friendgroup is. 
you laugh at the same jokes, make fun of nam joon when he says something ridiculous, and have each other’s backs when needed—but that’s it. 
or at least it should be.
again, until you’re alone together... then, it’s different. 
there’s this undercurrent.
something unspoken that takes all makes it hard to breathe. it’s the way he leans in when he’s talking to you. it’s the subtle touches he probably doesn’t think about… all these vague flirting moments leave you second-guessing… but you know what is it. you know who he is. 
and that’s what’s confusing. 
in the midst of this in-between—you don’t know how to word what he makes you feel. 
safe?
nervous?
loved?
and now with the baby; it should be more complicated. everything in your life feels more complicated but somehow; what you are—or what you aren’t—hasn’t changed at all. 
you’re still friends.
friends. 
“can we talk about this?” you speak out. “like first… what are we?”
yoongi’s eyes widen. 
he wasn’t ready for this question, but he also doesn’t hate it. he’s been wanting to know too. he’s been thinking about it too. 
“what do you want us to be?” 
you gulp, not knowing if he’ll like the answer you’re about to give. 
“friends,” you tell him. “is that ridiculous?”
yoongi shrugs. “only if you make it to be.”
“it’s just… i feel like i need to get to know you more. i didn’t even save your number in my phone until last year. we’ve been friends for over 3 years, yoongi… also, i don’t know your favourite colour. i don’t know your birthdate because i always confuse it with hobi’s… yours is in february, right?”
“march.”
you throw your head back, letting out a sharp and loud hiss. 
“fuck—s-see what i mean?” you take a breath and regulate. then, you reach for his hand and squeeze it. “i’m sorry. we’ve been decent friends but truth be told sometimes i feel like a stranger to you. i didn’t think this through—”
“it’s fine,” yoongi says, patting your back. “we’re not complete strangers. you know things about me, ___. don’t act like you don’t just because you’re scared. and, you know what? we can get to know each other more as the pregnancy goes on. besides, once the baby comes out—you’re stuck with me for life. i mean, it’s our baby.”
your lips curve into a small smile. 
“is our baby gonna have two cribs?” you blurt. “hyemi made a passing comment and for some reason i keep picturing it. two cribs.. two sets of clothes.. two homes.. two car seats—”
“one then,” yoongi simplifies it for you. “move in with me or i move in with you.”
you blink at him. 
“...hear me out,” yoongi says, voice calm but his eyes serious, holding yours as if he’s trying to make sure every word sticks. “we already spend so much time together—in our friendgroup setting at least… and i know it won’t be perfect. we’ll annoy each other, i’m sure, but it’ll be easier. for both of us. we won’t have to juggle back and forth or worry about where the baby should be or whose place has what.”
you swallow. 
the image of two cribs still lingering in your mind, mixing with the new picture he’s painting—one home, one set of everything, a shared life that feels both thrilling and terrifying. 
“yoongi…” you start, your voice wavering. “it’s not just about convenience. moving in together means… a lot. and what if we make things harder? what if it complicates everything more than it should?”
he nods, understanding the hesitation even as he inches a little closer, his presence grounding you. 
“i get that,” he says. “but we’ve already made things complicated, haven’t we?” his lips curve into a small, almost hopeful smile. “this way, at least, we’ll be complicated together. and if it doesn’t work, we’ll figure it out, for the baby’s sake. we owe it to them—and to ourselves—to at least try.”
you want to say yes.
to fall into this idea of a shared space, of yoongi always being just a few steps away, but the weight of uncertainty keeps you frozen. 
“i don’t know,” you murmur, dropping your gaze to your hands. “it’s a big step… and i’m scared of what it could mean… for us.”
yoongi reaches over, his fingers brushing lightly against yours. 
“i’m scared too,” he admits softly. “but i’d rather try and fail than not try at all. just… think about it, okay? no pressure. maybe a timer though. baby is coming soon.”
you finally look up, meeting his eyes, the sincerity there chipping away at your worries. a small, reluctant smile tugs at your lips. 
“hahaha… okay. yeah, i’ll think about it,” you promise, and the room feels a little lighter, hope lingering between you both. "... what if we buy baby things and leave it at yours? i think... i do want to move in with you. i think your points make sense and honestly? i've been thinking about us a lot... let's just do it slowly, okay?"
yoongi leans back slightly, studying your expression before he continues. 
“okay, if we’re doing this, I want to do it right,” he says, the seriousness of his tone making you focus. “since we're confessing.. truth be told, i’ve been struggling with this entire thing too. ___, i don’t want to be the dad who just shows up when it’s convenient or only takes half the responsibility. until we figure out the whole moving-in thing… i need you to keep me in the loop. not even the loop—in it. everything, okay? every appointment, every little thing the doctor says. even if it’s something silly, like craving pickles at 2 in the morning, call me. i want to be here. i meant it when i said i need you to figure out how to need me.” 
you nod slowly, his words settling into your chest. the way he’s looking at you—it’s like he’s already preparing himself for every moment he might miss if you don’t.
“and i'm serious about appointments,” yoongi adds, his voice softening just a little, the corners of his lips turning up in a small smile. “i want to know every detail. hear the heartbeat, see the ultrasounds, even if it means i have to reschedule work. screw it, honestly. you and baby are my priority… i’m gonna do everything to make you know that you deserve to feel like we’re doing this together.”
a lump forms in your throat, and you swallow, feeling the weight of his commitment. 
“you really mean that,” you say quietly, more to yourself than him. “yoongi…”
“of course, i do.” he pauses, his eyes holding yours with that steady, unwavering calm. “we might not be close, but this baby deserves two parents who are trying their best. and maybe…” he hesitates, his voice dropping lower. “maybe this will help us become more than just friends who share stolen glances. more than whatever weird, in-between thing we have.”
a beat.
“shit, do we have to talk about that now?”
he laughs. 
“no,” he shrugs. “i’m not in a rush. i’m cool with taking things slow. i have a lifetime with you anyway. also have a feeling you'll be moved in with me in a week or two.”
you roll your eyes and he chuckles.
then, you’re silent for a moment, processing the vulnerability he’s showing, the way he’s extending himself for both you and the baby. 
“okay,” you finally say. “i’ll call more. i’ll update you on everything. breakfast and prenatals and all.”
yoongi snickers at you. “... and when we’re finally living together… we’ll figure out a routine that works for both of us. we’ll make it as easy as possible… for all three of us.”
before you know it, you launch yourself at him.
you wrap your arms around his neck and he wraps his around your torso, returning the hug without hesitations. for a moment, it feels safe, like he’s anchoring you to something solid amidst all the uncertainty.
when you pull away, you glance up at him, nerves tightening in your chest. 
“can you… stay the night?” you ask, your voice softer than you mean it to be. “i guess that’s what i meant with the pickles and peanut butter.”
yoongi snorts at you. 
“i knew it.”
he earns a hit to his chest, but he takes it like a champ. even though he’s teasing you, there’s something so reassuring in the way he says it. 
“i'm already in my pajamas... i’ll just use the bathroom real quick. be right back.”
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as yoongi makes his way to the bathroom, he flicks on the light and notices the little details of your life scattered around the sink. toothpaste, skincare products, and…
a blue toothbrush placed neatly next to yours. 
his heart stumbles at the sight, realization washing over him. 
it’s for him. 
you had thought about him even in the smallest of ways, planning for him to be here.
what the fuck is his heart supposed to do with this?
it tugs.
it skips a beat.
it races.
it falls for you a little more.
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when he returns to your bedroom, he finds you already lying in bed, looking smaller and more vulnerable under the soft glow of the bedside lamp. he hesitates, unsure of how to fit into this space with you. the silence stretches awkwardly between you both as he slips under the covers.
neither of you knows quite how to lie together. 
you both fidget, trying not to make it more awkward, until you shift uncomfortably, a small wince escaping your lips. 
“ugh,” you mumble, “my back hurts.”
yoongi is at your side instantly. his nonchalant demeanor slipping away as he sits up. 
“here, let me help,” he murmurs, carefully guiding you to reposition. his hands are gentle but firm as he encourages you to lie partially against him, your body leaning into his. he wraps his arms around your belly, cradling you and the baby, and nuzzles his face into the curve of your neck. the warmth of his breath sends a small shiver down your spine, but it melts away as you sink into his embrace.
you both stay still, letting the comfort settle in. slowly, the awkwardness ebbs, replaced by a sense of calm as you relax against him.
just as you’re on the edge of sleep, you murmur something faintly. 
“yoongi?”
“mhmm?
“injeolmi...” you whisper.
yoongi stirs, confused. 
“huh?” he whispers back, trying not to disturb you too much. “are you craving injeolmi? i’ll get you some tomorrow–”
you smile sleepily, eyes already closed. 
“no.. our baby looks like injeolmi,” you explain, your words trailing off into drowsiness. “the ultrasound… injeolmi. let’s call our baby injeolmi for now.”
yoongi heart squeezes at the endearing name, a small smile tugging at his lips. 
“injeolmi,” he repeats, pressing a soft kiss into your hair. “okay. baby injeolmi it is.”
wrapped in each other’s warmth, you both drift off, with yoongi holding you close. all he thinks about before falling asleep is;
baby injeolmi, you are so loved.
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bbystark · 3 months ago
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♡ simon is a bad stalker part 2 ♡
badstalker!simon x reader series - pt one three
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♡ masterlist ♡ request more! ♡
summary: in which you meet your stalker, but not in the way you thought. mdni
a/n: the response on my last fic?? omg?? crazy. this is for @madzzz0797 and everyone else who requested! i love yall.
simon isn't someone to be stunned. the dude has seen some shit, not much has the capacity to knock the air out of his lungs.
except you, of course. "i want to meet you."
what in the actual fuck.
the words rattle around his skull, and he has to actually brace himself against the wall.
there is actually no way. he shouldn't be surprised, really. despite the fact that you didn't even know his name, he knew everything about you.
he knew the reason you started seeing a therapist wasn't because you were afraid of something happening to you, it was the fact that you didn't know what was going to happen.
above all else you really just hated not understanding what the "why's" in life. of course you weren't going to the police. only you would be primarily focused on figuring out why he was doing what he was doing, personal safety aside.
simon has no idea how to respond, so he simply hangs up. he's suddenly overwhelmed by the consequences of his own actions. he hadn't covered his tracks well because he somehow simply missed the severity what he was doing.
to him his motive was simple; he found you to be one of the only good things left in this world and it was only natural that he tries to protect you from the bad.
but then he realized that to you, some strange man was interfering with your life and literally sending personal drivers to your rescue seemingly out of nowhere.
again, simon thinks, he's completely fucked.
he weighs his options, like he has any. so far, you've taken the situation relatively well, and it seems like the only way he could do any type of damage control is to give you what you want.
on the other hand, he wants to run for the hills. to ghost you, essentially. but he knows he can't for the same reason he started this whole thing in the first place.
simon had an undeniable need to keep you safe and close.
° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °
when the line goes dead, you audibly say "what the fuck!?" to no one. he's the one stalking you, and he hangs up? what a dick.
then, as you begin to sober, you realize how much of a fucked up situation you're in. you contemplate calling a friend, spilling your guts about everything. then you realize it's 3am, and you should probably go to bed.
the following week you kind of just... go on as usual. you still feel watched, but for some reason you don't feel it as intensely. you wonder if you spooked your own stalker, and the thought almost makes you giggle.
then you come home one day and you immediately know something is off. your cat doesn't greet you as quickly as usual, (something that started when simon started coming around, he knew how much you worried about the thing being lonely, so he took it upon himself to drop by and give it attention every once in a while).
then you see it, a box of pastry on your kitchen table. you drop your purse on the ground, approaching it like it was an explosive.
a pretty little bow is wrapped around it (simon had seen your pinterest, he doesn't understand the bow obsession, but he knows you would like it)
you open the box, a note taped on the lid. it was your favorite croissants from your favorite bakery, and you shiver a little when you realize the box is still warm.
you snatch the note from the lid, shooing your cat away from sniffing at the croissants.
"i'm sorry. we can meet soon, i promise."
you roll your eyes. you can't believe he's suddenly back with a note and pastries like he's an ex you broke it off with.
and then it sinks in, he said you would meet soon.
almost as if on cue, your home computer chimes.
you pick up your cat, clutching to her like she would be any help in the situation. you open your inbox and pale when you see a blocked email.
you open it, almost dropping your cat when you see that it's a zoom link.
your stalker just sent you a zoom link like you were about to have a business meeting. you click the link before you can change your mind, seeing the little pop up that informs you one person is in the meeting.
there was no way you were about to have a meet and greet over zoom with your fucking stalker.
you immediately close out of the tab and walk away, setting your cat down and laughing at the absurdity of the situation. you laugh like a psycho for a long time, your cat throwing you judgmental looks.
then you stop laughing, and you find yourself sitting in front of your computer with your cursor hovering over the 'join meeting' button.
you check one more time that your camera is turned off and will your shaking hand to click the stupid button.
° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °
simon watches as you laugh, and it does nothing to help calm his nerves. he silently hopes that you choose not to join the stupid video call because he's not even sure he could get any words out if you did.
the zoom was soap's idea, saying it might take the edge off (and the risk of you calling the cops). simon thought it was stupid but reluctantly agreed at the prospect of being one step closer to you.
he's pulled from his thoughts when the annoying doorbell chime lets him know that you did it, you actually joined the meeting. with your camera off, of course, not that it mattered when simon had your whole place bugged anyway.
his heart stops, he sees you staring at the screen, taking in a scarily large man in a mask and hood. he doesn't know where to put his eyes, much less what to say.
you break the ice for him, "this is way fucking weirder than just meeting you in person."
he wants to laugh, but stays silent, watching as you instinctively lean farther and farther away from your screen.
he watches you for a second before responding. "thought it would be easier like this."
for you or for him, you have no idea. you don't ask about the mask, assuming he just didn't want you to be able to identify him.
"yeah okay. um," he watches your face screw up as you try to find the words.
you settle with a simple "what the fuck?"
you watch him as he shifts in his seat, room dark and giving you no hints as to who he was.
"name's ghost." you scoff.
"i-," he stops and collects his thoughts, "i don' wanna hurt you."
you raise an eyebrow. "then what do you want?" he stays silent.
his silence irritates you, and you spur on. "what's the endgame here, ghost? because it's starting to get real fucking weird, i mean if you're gonna murder me eventually just get it over with because these little acts of kindness are driving me fucking insane."
his callsign coming from your lips sends a thrill through him, and he has to really concentrate to respond.
"...didn't really think about it. just know i want to keep you safe."
you balk at him. you had no idea why you thought he would spill his whole manifesto and confess his every thought to you.
"you know what you're doing is wrong right? being in my apartment, following me around? despite the good things you do for me?"
his entire body warms when you acknowledge the small things he's done for you, he revels in the fact that you know he's taking care of you.
"'spose so." a beat "then why are you doing it?"
he doesn't have an answer for you. "listen, ghost. you're going to meet me in person and you're going to have a lot more answers or else-" you find your voice wavering. "or else i will go to the police."
you don't give him time to respond, you simply end the call and or good measure unplug your computer, like it will somehow distance you from what happened.
you go to your bedroom, sitting on your bed heavily. you were shaking, uncontrollable shivers wracking your body.
you had just dug your grave deeper, in your childish and immature quest to understand you had just given your stalker an open invitation to come to you.
you were so fucked.
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itneverendshere · 2 months ago
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it's my party, and i'll cry if i want to - r.c
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request: I was wondering if you might write a Rafe x reader fic where Rafe forgets her birthday but then makes up with her?
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you spent the entire day oscillating between disappointment and sadness. 
crying on your birthday was a common thing when you were growing up, a girlhood achievement. everyone did it.
but now? now that you had rafe? your birthdays were amazing. he always went out of his way to surprise you and cherish you. he would’ve never forgotten something as important as your day. 
at least you didn’t think he would, until today. yeah, long-distance had been tough on both of you since college started, and while rafe usually tried his best to make you feel special, today was different.
it had been radio silence. no messages. no missed calls. not even an instagram story reaction. and now, it was already past midnight, the day officially over. your birthday had come and gone, and he hadn’t acknowledged it once.
you lay on your bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to rationalize the situation. 
maybe something came up. maybe he had a family emergency or got caught up in one of his class projects. you wanted to believe that. rafe had never been perfect, but he had always tried when it came to you. this, though? It felt like a gigantic slap in the face. 
the soft sound of your door creaking open startled you from your thoughts. your heart raced in your chest, confused. you lived alone off-campus—no one ever came by unannounced. you sat up, wiping at your tired eyes, and just as you were about to call out, you saw him.
rafe stood there, looking haggard, his clothes slightly wrinkled, his hair messy from a long day. but the sight of him, standing in your doorway, made your heart stop. he was there. in person.
“rafe?” you nearly gasped, “what—what are you doing here?”
his blue eyes were filled with guilt, brows furrowed, he looked like he’d been through hell and back. he dropped his duffel bag onto the floor and took a hesitant step toward you. “baby—” his voice cracked. “’m so fucking sorry.”
you blinked, trying to process what was happening. “sorry for what? for not calling? for forgetting? for ignoring me all day?” you didn’t mean for your voice to sound so broken, but goddamit it was your birthday. and you spent it all alone because you were too depressed to step foot outside your stupid apartment without a text from him.
he took another step forward, closing the distance between you. “didn’t forget, baby. i swear. i was trying to surprise you, i was supposed to be here hours ago, but—” he sighed deeply, running a frustrated hand through his messy hair. “everything went to shit.”
your brow furrowed in confusion, “what do you mean?”
“i booked a flight,” he explained quietly, sitting down on the edge of your bed, his knee brushing against yours. “wanted to fly in and surprise you, to spend the whole day with you for your birthday. i didn’t want to say anything because i thought it’d be more special if i just showed up, y’know? but god must hate me or some bullshit.”
you watched him carefully, your heart beating faster, unsure where he was going with this.
“the flight got delayed—twice. then it got canceled. i spent hours trying to get on another one, but there were no other options. by the time i finally landed, it was already after midnight.” he looked down at his hands, which were fidgeting nervously. “and i know that’s no excuse, but—”
“why didn’t you call me?” you asked, “you could’ve let me know.”
rafe let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “couldn’t. my phone, uh, it broke.”
“what?” you asked, not sure if you heard him correctly.
“yeah.” he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. “when the flight got canceled for the second time, i—uh—i might’ve thrown my phone against a wall. i was so pissed baby, so stressed because i knew i was ruining the surprise, and then…i couldn’t even call or text you. i was stuck.”
you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. the image of rafe, frustrated and angry at an airport, throwing his phone in a fit of rage was almost too ridiculous to believe. 
“so, you didn’t forget?” you whispered, your voice cracking slightly. you spent the entire day making up scenarios in your head, about how maybe he’d gotten tired of being with you, how maybe he had found someone new back in college.
“no, god, no,” he shook his head fervently. “i’d never forget your birthday.”
the sincerity in his voice made you want to cry like a baby all over again. there was still the lingering ache of loneliness and insecurity, of the day you spent thinking he had.
“i thought…” you swallowed, unable to hold back the tears, “i thought you didn’t care anymore. that we weren’t… enough. i was scared,” you admitted after a long pause. “that maybe you were pulling away. maybe we weren’t working anymore.”
rafe’s brows furrowed, and he quickly shook his head. “no. never. we’re working, okay? this long-distance bullshit—it sucks. but you and me? it’s forever, okay?”
you nodded slowly, “i really missed you.”
his expression dropped at your words, and in an instant, he was pulling you into his arms, holding you tightly against him. his scent, the feel of him, it was all so familiar, so comforting. you buried your face in his chest.
“shh, baby,” he murmured, his hand running soothingly through your hair as he kissed the top of your head. “’m so sorry. i never meant to hurt you. fuck, i hate that i made you feel like that. i wanted today to be perfect for you.”
you sniffled, trying to calm your breathing as you clung to him. “it wasn’t perfect.”
“i know,” he whispered, “i messed up. should’ve found a way to reach you, should’ve figured it out. you don’t deserve that, not on your birthday, not ever.”
he had tried. he had wanted to be here. and while it hadn’t gone the way either of you planned, his presence now, his arms around you, felt like all you needed.
“you threw your phone?” you asked, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth despite everything.
rafe’s face flushed with embarrassment, but he chuckled softly. “yeah, it wasn’t my proudest moment, shattered pretty badly. i don’t even know if I can get it fixed.”
“that’s so stupid.”
he laughed softly at your words, the sound rumbling through his chest where you were still nestled. his arms tightened around you just a little, as if he was scared you might slip away if he didn’t hold on tight enough. “i was so pissed, baby. i thought I was ruining everything.”
you pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, your eyes red and puffy from the tears you’d been holding in all day. “you did ruin it,” you teased softly, though there was no real bite behind your words.
rafe still winced even thought he could tell you were joking, “maybe i could’ve borrowed someone’s phone at the airport, or... i don’t know, sent a smoke signal or something.”
it wasn’t the grand birthday surprise he’d been planning, and it wasn’t the perfect day you had imagined, but right now, having him here—seeing how much he cared—it was starting to feel like enough.
you snorted, “smoke signal, huh?”
he smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked down at you as you audibly cooed at his dimples, "yeah, or, like... maybe hired a skywriter? whatever it took. i would've done anything to get to you."
you chuckled softly, wiping at your eyes, the lingering tears drying up now, “so dramatic.”
“’m serious,” he insisted as he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing softly over your cheeks. “i’d swim across the damn ocean for you if i had to. swear to god, baby. nothing was going to stop me from getting here.”
the love in his eyes took your breath away. he wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better; you could see in his face, that he meant every word. the frustration and desperation of the day had taken its toll on him too. he had been trying so hard to be with you, to make your day special, and in that moment, you know much he hated that he couldn’t.
“you’ll make me cry again,” you groaned, feeling your heart swell with emotion. it wasn’t perfect, but the lengths he had gone to just to be with you made you want to kiss him stupid. he was here now, holding you like you were his entire world.
he leaned forward, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm on your lips as he murmured, “’m sorry i messed it up. i hate that you spent the day feeling like i didn’t care. you mean everything to me.”
tour chest tightened, “i felt so alone, didn’t know what to think.”
“i know,” he replied softly, his hands gently holding your face. “but sweetheart, i don’t care if we’re a thousand miles apart, i’ll always be here when you need me. ’m not going anywhere.”
the tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they weren’t from sadness, only from the overwhelming love you felt for him, for the boy who would go to any lengths just to be by your side.
“i love you,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly as you spoke the words.
rafe smiled, his eyes softening as he kissed you gently, his lips lingering against yours in a slow, tender moment. “i love you too. so much.”
you sighed into the kiss, your hands reaching up to tangle in his messy hair, pulling him closer. the pressure that had been sitting in your chest all day seemed to disappear as his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight, as if he could keep all the hurt and disappointment away just by being near. it was just rafe—his hands gripping you like he couldn’t imagine to let you go, his lips coaxing out all the tension and loneliness you’d felt throughout the day. 
when he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours again, his lips curving into a playful smirk. “so… about the whole swimming across the ocean thing. think you’d be impressed?”
you giggled, rolling your eyes. “you’d probably drown halfway.”
“oh? so what i’m hearing is you don’t want your present.”
you nudged him playfully with your elbow. “i deserve at least three.”
“you want more presents now? greedy.”
you crossed your arms, trying to maintain your teasing tone despite the closeness, “you haven’t even wished me a happy birthday.”
he leaned back, elbows hitting the mattress as his lips morphed into a shit-eating grin, “was planning on doing it inside of you.”
you slapped his stomach, “don’t be disgusting.”
rafe’s grin only grew wider, clearly proud of himself. “just for you, baby,” he teased, sitting up to lean in close again, his lips ghosting over yours as he added in a low whisper, “happy birthday.”
the low timber in his voice and that god-sent southern drawl sent a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, you forgot all about the worst birthday of your life. the way he was looking at you now, like you were the only person in the world that mattered, made everything else seem insignificant.
“you’re lucky you’re hot,” you murmured, kissing him softly, your lips brushing against his with a tenderness that made his heart do that funny thing.
“damn right,” he mumbled against your mouth, kissing you back with more fervor, his hands slipping around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. “gonna make it up to you. all of it.”
you could only tilt your head back slightly as he kissed his way down your neck, your hands fisting in his hair, “i have class at 8.”
“nah,” he breathed against your skin, nose running up your neck, “you’re not leaving this bed for the next twenty-four hours.”
you couldn't help but smile as his lips trailed over your skin, “twenty-four hours?” you repeated breathlessly, your fingers tugging lightly at his hair, your heart fluttering. “you think i’ll skip class for you?”
he grinned against your collarbone, his breath hot and teasing, “know you will,” he murmured, his hands wandering over your sides, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. “i’ll make it worth your while.”
a soft laugh escaped you, "you're so cocky.”
"confident," he corrected with a smirk, lifting his head to meet your gaze. he brushed a stray tear from your cheek, his touch soft despite his rough hands, “i’ll spend the rest of the night making it up to you. making sure you know just how much i love you.”
leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his in a slow, lingering kiss, savoring the taste of him, the feel of him beneath your hands. 
“i love you,” you whispered against his lips, your voice barely a breath, but in that moment, you knew he heard every word.
“i love you more.”
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parkerluvsu · 3 months ago
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Heyyyyyy i loved your " PonyBoy " fic even though i hoped there will be some smut in it but can you pleaaaaaase do first time with cowboy bf Art 🧎‍♀️
omg yes you can!! im so sorry im definitely better at writing smut in a shorter fic than a longer one 😭
BED CHEM (cowboy! art donaldson x virgin! fem! reader)
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art donaldson is a gentleman, truly. he pulls out chairs before you sit on them, he opens your car door for you, and carries you when your feet hurt from walking in heels all night. yes, art donaldson is a gentleman, but he's still a man. he can't stop himself from gazing a little too long at your thighs when you wear a short skirt, or your breasts when you're leaning over the table to point at something. little does he know, you're wearing these short skirts and low cut tops on purpose, you wanna see him crack, to shed that polite shell and do what he wants with you.
art is taking you out tonight, he surprised you with tickets to see a movie at the drive-in theatre in town. as you're swiping on shiny lip gloss in the mirror you decide that tonight will be the night. youve asked him to take your virginity before, practically begged him to, but he always says the same thing, "i wouldn't want you to regret it" it makes you angry, honestly, how could you regret having your first time with the best boyfriend you've ever had! you went shopping especially for tonight, hiding the blush on your face as you checked out with a set of baby blue panties, with lace trim around the edges. lost in your thoughts, you hardly notice the honk coming from outside, signaling that art is here. giving yourself one last look in the mirror, you hop down the stairs, grabbing keys and a bag before exiting your house, waving to art, who's sitting in his beaten up pickup truck. you can't help but giggle a little bit when his mouth drops open at the sight of you wearing less than he's probably ever seen you wear. getting into the car, you give him a quick peck on the cheek, art starts the car and you're on your way. as usual, arts hand finds its way to your thigh as he drives, his thumb slowly rubbing it side to side. "darlin' i-is that dress new?" you can tell arts nervous about asking, not wanting to offend you. "yeah sort of, i just haven't worn it yet. you like it?" you ask, knowing he does like it, you can tell by the way his eyes flick down every couple seconds to look at your exposed skin. he chuckles, nodding quickly as he turns into the outdoor movie theater parking lot. when he stops, you turn to art, subtly moving your arms to press your breasts together. batting your eyelashes, you ask, "art, baby would you grab me a soda from the concessions stand?" art has to tear his eyes away from your chest to answer, "'course sweetheart, be back in a minute" he exits the car, shutting the door and walking off.
now that he's gone, you can work on your plan even more, adjusting your bra to push up your breasts more, shimmying your skirt up to expose more of your legs, and pulling down a mirror to re-apply your shiny lip-gloss. taking a deep breath, you wait for art to return. when he gets back you smile sweetly at him, taking your drink and sucking on the straw and making eye contact with him. you don't see it, but art has to wipe his sweaty palms on his jeans, your suggestive actions making him break out in a sweat just from the effort to not jump your bones in this shitty drive in parking lot.
both you and art feel like the cheesy 90 minute movie is taking about 3 hours, for you, youre waiting for art to make a move, or at least signal that hes open to your obvious advances. for art, hes running scenario after scenario in his head, what could go right, what could go wrong, and everything in between. when the movie finally ends, art drives you home in silence, both of you trying to find something to say. stopping in front of your house he turns toward you, opening his mouth to say something before you interrupt him, "will you come inside?" art shuts his mouth quickly and nods, letting his cowboy hat fall in front of his flushed face.
walking up the steps to your door, art follows close behind you, bowing his head when he gets through the door. it's hard to the describe the feeling you get when youre walking towards your bedroom with art, hes been here before but this time feels different. sitting on the edge of your creaky bed, art makes the first move, cupping your face with his larger hand and pressing his mouth to yours, handling you soft and sweet, like he knows you deserve. he has to stop himself from groaning into your mouth when you move his hat off of his head, threading your fingers through his hair. art pulls you closer, his hands on your waist, lightly squeezing. the kiss turns more heated, and to your delight, art seems more accepting of the change of pace than he was in times before, the farthest you've gone was lightly grinding over his worn jeans. without taking his mouth off of yours, art moves you onto his lap, one hand on the small of your back to keep you steady, and the other one cupping your face gently. you have to pull away first, as much as you'd like to keep kissing him you don't want to suffocate. opening your eyes and pulling away you're able to see the cute flush on arts face, his pupils dialated and his hair messy. "i wanna keep going art.. please, ive asked you before" you don't want to sound desperate, but you are, the butterflies in your stomach becoming more intense. you can tell that arts mulling it over in his head, biting his lip.
"alright darlin' you trust me yeah? you have to tell me if you dont want me to do something, promis me, won't you?" he asks, the hand on your back rubbing up and down. you nod eagerly, "i promise art" art smiles, leaning in to kiss you again, this times with more passion than before, now knowing that you want everything he can give you. leaning into him, you undo the buttons on arts shirt quickly, helping him take it off of his shoulders. you run your hands down his chest, smiling into the kiss when he shivers. arts hands, callused from his work as a cowboy, dip under the hem of your shirt, helping you pull it up and over your shoulders. art attaches his lips to your neck, sucking and biting, leaving purple marks in his wake that you're sure will be hard to cover. under the guise of kissing your neck, arts expert hands undo the clasp of your bra, removing it from your chest. youre lost in the feeling of his mouth against you, arts lips moving against your chest. you try to reach down and undo arts belt, but it's proving more difficult than you thought. art, luckily knows what youre trying to do, moving you off of his lap and placing you gently against your pillows, kneeling between your spread legs.
arts mouth is against yours once again, you hear the clunk of his belt against the floor and you smile, letting him kiss his way down your stomach. art looks up at you from between your legs, his blue eyes meeting yours, "if you wanna go further i gotta prep you first, alright darlin'?" you nod, letting him slip off your skirt. in your haste, you had forgotten the special panties you were wearing just for him, but arts soft gasp against you brings you back to earth. he slips off your panties quickly as well, and you're almost offended that he didn't admire them more, until you notice him sticking them into his back pocket, the blue lace peeking out. art rubs a finger up and down your slick folds, his mouth coming to press a kiss on your clit, causing your hand to fly down to grip onto his hair. you feel him grin against you, before putting his mouth to work, pressing as close as he can to you. the sudden intrusion of one of his fingers startles you, causing you to clench tightly around him. he sighs onto you, the breath of warm air intensifying the feeling even more. "fuck sweetheart you gotta relax more for me, or else im never gonna fit in here.." he practically groans against you. you nod, letting your head flop against the pillow behind you, letting his thumb rub quick circles on your clit, distracting you from the stretch of another finger inside of you. you have to resist the urge to shut your thighs around arts head when he scissors his fingers inside of you, the feeling getting closer and closer to the pleasure you feel when you're alone in bed.
suddenly, you're ripped out of the clouds of pleasure when art takes his fingers out of you, making his way back up your body. he kisses your forehead, looking at you softly. "you have a condom right? i want you to be safe the first time" you nod, reaching into your bedside drawer for the box of condoms you got for this very occasion. he takes one from you, ripping off the wrapper with his teeth and pulling it over his dick. he hovers over you again, pressing his forehead against yours, noticing your wide eyes when you look down and see his size. he taps your cheek gently, "focus on me, okay? i promise ill take care of you darlin'" you nod, letting him press his tip into you. art sees the grimace on your face and pauses, letting you adjust. when he sees you've relaxed he starts again, repeating the cycle until he's fully pressed into you. now its your turn to tap him on the cheek, letting him know that he can start to move. arts eyes flutter closed, pulling his hips out slowly before thrusting back into you, pushing out moan after moan from you, his dick reaching spots your fingers never could. arts thrusts are languid and deep, making sure you can feel every inch of his when he pushes back into you. art almost looses his mind when you wrap your legs around his hips, making sure he isnt going anywhere. art can tell you're close, the way your moans are getting louder and louder in his ear, and the way you're pulsing around him. "i- im close art" you manage to get the words out between moans. art nods, speeding up his thrusts to meet your needs. "alright sweetheart.. it's okay, it's okay, fuck, im close too" he groans out, his hips starting to stutter. lucky for art, you cum first, he thinks the guilt of cumming before you on your first time would eat him alive. he kisses you through your orgasm, swallowing your moans of his name as he gives you a few last thrusts before he's tumbling over the edge right after you. art lets you ride out your orgasm before slowly pulling out, throwing away the condom and laying down next to you. after you catch your breath, you lay your head on arts chest, the steady beat of his heart calming your own. his hand comes to hold yours, squeezing it gently. "you did real good for your first time darlin'" you smile, grateful for the praise from him. you reach over the bed, grabbing his cowboy hat and putting it on. "next time ill be on top okay? i wanna be a cowgirl" you giggle, winking at him. he laughs and shakes his head, rubbing your back. "you don't even know what youre getting yourself into sweetheart.." <3
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wandaslittlebird · 3 months ago
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Far From a Monster
Wanda x Reader
After a particularly intense session, Wanda has some conflicting feelings about what it means to be your dom.
CW: Dom Drop, Blood, Mommy Kink, Guilt, Sexual Shame
Word Count: 1.8k
A/N: As someone is who isn’t a dom, I don’t know how accurate a depiction this is of dom drop. This is just what I’ve heard from other people. But I hardly ever see it written about so I wanted to give it a shot.
A/N: I KNOW, I said in the poll it was going to be more stepmom!Wanda next, but that fic is going to take longer than expected. Also in my defense this one was in the lead until almost the very end.
She had you just where she liked you.
You were face down on the bed, a sobbing mess in her hands. You had started on your hands and knees, but had long since collapsed forward. She had her hands drilled into your hips, which was the only thing that kept you up on your knees. She used her grip on you to force you to keep her brutal pace, cruelly dragging you back on to her each time she slammed her hips into you.
“Mommy please! Mommy it’s too much! Please mommy it hurts!” You cried. Your arms were wrapped around a pillow you were pathetically crying into.
“Aww sweetheart,” she cooed with faux sympathy. “You can give me one more, I know you can. Can you do that for mommy?”
You whimpered and squeaked into your pillow, but nodded nonetheless.
She reached down to pet your hair, but inadvertently drove your head further into the pillow. You moaned as her hand gripped your hair. “Oh you like that? Do you like it when mommy hurts you and pulls your hair?”
You nodded, but she pulled harder, pulling you up off the bed a little bit. “Words, princess.”
“Yes mommy! Yes I love it when you hurt me a-and pull my hair!” You cried. “Please mommy, I’m gonna cum again.”
“Is it starting to feel good again, baby? See I told you mommy’s cock wasn’t too big for you. You said it wouldn’t fit, but it’s made you cum, what, three times now?”
“You were right! You were right!” You conceded. “Please let me cum on your cock. Please mommy please.”
“Hmm,” She pretended to consider the request. “Tell mommy about how you're her cockslut and you can cum.”
“Yes mommy, I’m your cockslut. I’m your little toy you can use however you want,” you pleaded. “Fuck I’m gonna cum. Mommy I’m gonna cum for you.”
Your eyes rolled back in your head as you came so hard the strap fell out of you and hit your leg. Wanda smirked, satisfied with herself as you collapsed onto the bed.
Until she looked down.
There was blood.
And not an insignificant amount of it either. She swallowed. It couldn’t have been your period, could it? No you had been on birth control for years and hadn’t had a period since she’d known you. Besides, this was too bright and fresh to be period blood.
“Honey?” She asked, voice shaking slightly. “You don’t have a period anymore do you?”
“Hmm?” You asked, not immediately registering her question in your fuzzy haze. “No. Why?”
You looked down, seeing the blood that covered both your inner thighs and Wanda’s. “Oh. I must’ve torn a little bit. Sorry.”
Her brows knitted in concern. Her heart was racing. It felt like it might beat out of her chest. “I-I’m gonna go get a towel. Stay right here, baby. I’ll be right back.”
You couldn’t tell through your haze how panicked she truly was. You missed the way her voice broke when she spoke. You didn’t see the tears that pricked the corner of her eyes. You didn’t notice the frantic way she scurried into the bathroom. You simply laid on the bed, blissfully nuzzling a pillow.
Wanda closed the bathroom door, taking off the strap and running it under the sink. A cry broke through her lip when she watched the water run red.
How did she not notice you were bleeding? Were you telling her to stop when you said it too much? Did she push you too far? Had you torn at the beginning and just been in pain the whole time? Did you forget your safe word? Fuck did you say the safe word and she just hadn’t heard it? Did she genuinely hurt you? Were you going to be mad at her?
All the worst case scenarios ran through her mind. She felt a monstrous guilt rise up in her chest. She hurt you. She hurt you and she didn’t even realize it.
Why was she like this? Why did she even like to hurt you in the first place? Why did she like it when you cried for her? What kind of monster enjoys hurting the person they love?
“Wanda?” She was pulled from her thoughts by your gentle voice at the bathroom door. “Is everything all right, honey?”
She was bent over the bathroom counter, bracing herself against the granite. Tears were running down her cheeks causing her hair to stick to her face. You took a couple steps towards her, cupping her cheek. She pulled away.
“Wanda, baby, please tell me what’s wrong. Did I do something?” You asked.
Wanda shook her head. “No, love. No you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Then what is it?” You asked softly, reaching out for her again.
Her teary green eyes finally met yours. Her bottom lip trembled. “I hurt you,” she admitted softly, in almost a whisper.
You took a sigh of relief. “It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt. It’s just a little tear. I’ll wear a pantyliner, it’s not a big deal.”
“It is a big deal,” she cried, “I hurt you! You were bleeding and I didn’t even notice! You were telling me it hurt and I didn’t listen!”
You pulled her into a tight hug, cradling her head into her chest. “Wanda, it's okay. We were just playing, just like we always do. I was having fun. I would’ve used my safe word if I wanted to stop. You did everything right, love.”
Wanda wrapped her arms around your shoulders. “I feel like a monster,” she cried softly.
You rubbed her back, kissing her temple. “You’re not a monster, love. You’re nothing of the sort,” you reassured. “You are so so far from a monster.”
She clutched you harder, pulling you impossibly close. “I love you. I love you so much.”
“I love you too, honey,” you said, taking a moment to rub her back before proposing: “How about we get cleaned up and have a nice soft snuggle night, huh?”
Wanda nodded into your chest. “Is it alright if I take a shower up here and you take one downstairs? I think I just need a minute to myself.”
You pulled her out of the hug, holding her face in your hands. “Of course, honey. Just no more spiraling into thoughts of being a monster, okay?”
She smiled, turning her head to kiss the palm of your hand. “No more spiraling,” she agreed.
You pressed a long kiss to her forehead. “I love you, Wanda. And I think you’re a wonderful person. And I think you did everything perfectly.”
She giggled. “I love you too, darling. Now go take a shower downstairs. I’ll be ready for you when you come back up.”
—————
You finished up your shower, returning to your room in some soft pajamas pants and one of Wanda’s sweatshirts. You limped up the stairs a little awkwardly. The tear hurt a little bit more than you expected after the adrenaline wore off, but it was nothing a Tylenol couldn’t fix.
You walked into Wanda nervously fluffing the pillows in a little nest she’d made for the two of you. She turned around when you opened the door, still looking a little anxious. “Oh, hi I um, I got this for you. And some Tylenol.”
She held out what looked like a pad, but was cold to the touch. “What’s this?”
“It’s just a pad with some chilled witch hazel. It’ll help with tear,” she explained.
You looked down at the pad with a hint of disgust. Pads always made you feel so uncomfortable. But when you looked back up at Wanda’s anxious frown, you simply smiled and said “thank you, love. I’ll put it on now.”
You tucked the cool pad into your underwear. Perhaps unsurprisingly, it felt better almost immediately afterwards. The cooling sensation did wonders for the burning of the tear. Wanda smiled for a moment when you sighed in relief, but quickly went back to nervously playing with her hands. “C-can I ask you something?”
You took her fidgety hands into your own. “Of course love, anything.”
She tilted her head up to briefly look you in the eyes. “Do you think you could call me mommy for tonight?” She asked. The words came fast and jumbled, like she had to force them out of her mouth before she changed her mind. “I mean I know we only use it while we’re playing and I’m being rough with you and that’s fine if you just want to stick to that and you’re under no obligation to say yes or anything I just thought that maybe I could be mommy and be sweet and take care of you just so it’s clear that I still love you when I’m mommy and I’d never do anything to try to hurt you on purpose even though mommy Wanda seems super cruel and sadistic…”
You interrupted her nervous rambling with kisses to each of her knuckles. “Of course, mommy.”
She stopped speaking for a moment, looking at you with all the love a gaze could possibly hold. She looked like she might cry again, but she simply reached up and touched your cheek. You melted easily into her touch and it made her heart sing.
She loved you, and you knew she loved you. You didn’t flinch or shy away from her. You didn’t wince like she was going to hit you. You trusted her. Even as mommy, she was going to take care of you.
“Okay, my love,” she whispered. “Let’s get you to bed.”
—————
You spent the rest of the night cocooned in a variety of soft blankets. She had you sat between her legs, arms wrapped around your waist while she repeatedly kissed the top of your head.
She had her laptop open on your lap. The two of you giggled over a game of Firegirl and Waterboy. She even let you play as Firegirl even though the Waterboy keys were much harder for her to reach around you. For a kids game, the two of you were doing exceptionally poorly, not even making it past the first few levels before your eyes started to droop and you yawned.
She gently closed the laptop, moving it to the bedside table. “Alright princess, I think it’s about time for bed.”
“We’re already in bed,” you teased through a yawn, curling up on your side into her chest.
“Cheeky girl,” she chuckled, kissing your head and turning off the bedside lamp. She pulled you close, swaddling you against her chest with a blanket.
You rubbed your face into her neck and sleepily mumbled, “I love you, mommy.”
She smiled giddily, glad you couldn’t see her in the dark room. She gently rubbed the back of your head. “Mommy loves you too, princess. Sweet dreams.”
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tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 3 months ago
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Interstate 40 | Tyler Owens x reader
Requested by anon / Summary: You go into labor. 
A/N: Hope you enjoy! Thanks for requesting. xx
Go follow my fic rec blog! ---> @imaginationgonewild0912
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! Warning: child birth, blood, pain !! 
You were out at the barn, filling the chickens feed and water when Tyler stormed into the barn. You’re pretty sure you saw smoke coming out of his ears, his face red. 
“What the hell are you doing?” He asks immediately taking the scoop from you, “you’re supposed to be resting! Doctor’s order!” His eyes are large as he stares at you. 
You wave him off, “Tyler come on, I’ve been doing this the entire pregnancy. Nothing new to me.” You yank the scoop back from him, “I was going stir crazy laying in bed.” 
You were 9 months pregnant, 39 weeks to be exact, ready to go into labor at any time. Your body was ready, but baby Owens had yet to say they were ready just yet. Your doctor had told you to take it easy after a fainting spell. Everything checked out, baby Owens was perfectly healthy and your doctor gave you the green light to head back home and get some rest. 
Tyler had took this very seriously, making you stay in bed, and insisted on waiting on you hand and foot. He’d only left you alone for an hour to run into town to get groceries. 
“What if something happened out here while I was gone? huh? What if you fainted and hit your head or something?” 
You sigh, seeing his point, “I’m sorry.” You frown, “but Tyler, really I was going crazy. I needed to do something.” 
“knit the baby a blanket. Something where you’re not on your feet.” He grabs your shoulders, leading you out the barn. 
“Tyler-” you groan, “you know I don’t know how to knit!” 
“Perfect time to learn then.” 
As the two of you near the porch, you get a cramp in your stomach. It wasn’t too strong, but you noticed it. “ooh.” You clinch your eyes shut, placing a hand on your stomach, and bending over slightly.
“What? Oh god, is it time? See I told you-” 
“Tyler, chill.” You take a deep breath, the pain easing. “I’m sure it’s just Braxton hicks. I’m fine. I’ve been having them every little while.” 
“are they consistent?” 
You shrug, “I honestly don’t know. I haven’t paid too much attention. That’s the first one that's been more intense.” You start up the stairs of the porch. 
“You could be in labor.” Tyler says following you, “We probably need to head to the hospital.” 
“I promise I am not. We’ll know for sure when it's time.” You sigh, taking a seat on the rocking chair. 
“You’ll let me know if they get worse right? You know the nearest hospital is an hour away.” He warns. “You have to let me know in time. I am not delivering our baby on the side of the highway.” 
“You told me they were Braxton hicks!” He argues. He’s currently speeding down the interstate, swerving in and out of traffic. People are honking left and right. 
You let out a scream, hand gripping his shirt in one hand and the other on the grab handle. 
Tyler screams with you, in full blown panic mode. You were still 45 minutes away from the nearest hospital. Your water had broke a little bit ago and soon after that the contractions began to get more and more intense, and closer in time. Your labor was progressing fast. 
You’re doing your lamaze breathing, trying to stay calm, “I’ve never been in labor before, how was I supposed to know I was actually in labor?!” 
You groan as another wave of a contraction hits, “Tyler something-” You reach down to feel, bringing your hand back up, fingers covered in blood. “S-Something is wrong.” 
Tyler glances at your hand, his heart drops, face going pale. if something happens to you.. or the baby. He’d never forgive himself. He shouldn’t have left. He should have forced you to go to the hospital earlier. His foot goes heavy on the gas, engine revving loudly. 
A new feeling shows itself, “I feel like I need to shit-” Your eyes are wide, staring at Tyler. “Tyler- oh fuck I’m about to have this baby on the side of the god damn interstate, aren’t I?” 
“Don’t panic-” He knew enough from hearing stories to know what that meant. That was the key indicator baby was coming and it was coming NOW. “but yes.” 
“oh my god!” 
He’s immediately pulling the truck to the side, horns blaring as he cuts someone off. He comes to a skidding stop, jumping out of the truck. He’s throwing the door open on your side in a split second. Now it’s him who is calm. He’s rolling up his sleeves, pulling out his phone to call 911. He’s delivered a calf before. Same thing right? 
“I am NOT having this baby in your truck!” Your panicked eyes find his calm ones, shaking your head. “I can wait until the hospital.”
“You have no choice.” He helps you slide out of your pants in the seat, simultaneously telling the 911 dispatcher what’s going on, your location and gathering supplies he needs. Where did this calm, collected Tyler come from? He was panicking only 30 seconds ago. 
You scream, a searing pain felt down below. 
Tyler peeks and sees a head full of hair, his eyes widen, “you definitely can’t wait. baby is coming now. push baby-” 
It only took one push before Tyler caught the baby, laying her on your chest and drying her off with a towel. “it’s a girl!”
Emotions are running high. Tears are being shed. You’d just given birth, Tyler delivering your daughter. Your heart drops; she’s quiet on your chest, “Why isn’t she crying?”
“Come on baby girl-” He finally stimulates her enough and she lets out a loud cry. It triggers more tears from both you and Tyler. A sigh of relief. 
Tyler’s kissing you through the tears, “You did so great baby.” A proud smile on his lips as he stares at his two girls. He cups your face in his hands, “That was fucking amazing.” 
~
The EMS showed up not long after, checking over you and the baby. Both healthy. They get you on the stretcher, your baby girl wrapped in a blanket in your arms. As the emotions of your baby being earth side, the reality hits you. You gasp, “Tyler.” You cover your mouth in shock. 
“Hmm?” He hums, looking up from your daughter. 
“I just gave birth to our daughter in your truck on the side of the interstate.”  
He chuckles, “Yeah you did. That was more bad ass than getting caught in the middle of a tornado.” 
Don’t know how I feel about this one. I had a whole vision but writing it out proved to be difficult. 
Comments, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 
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jsprnt · 5 months ago
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a no-contact relationship break, is shaken when your boyfriend finds out you’re getting hit on by other guys
kenan yıldız x long distance! reader
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A/N: Probably my last fic before I go on my writing break!! Based on this request, thank you babe!! 🤍
W/C: 1.934
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you drop the pen in your hand, shifting your gaze from your notes to your pinging phone. the screen had been lighting up for the past few minutes. the repeated buzzing of the device started to piss you off, distracting you from your assignment.
you were currently studying in the united states, as an international student. in your first year of college, it was tough, to say the least.
you snatch your phone off your desk, squinting when the light emitting from your screen hits your exhausted face.
sighing, you unlock your phone, opening the messages in your notification center. your eyes widen slightly when you notice the sender of the- multiple messages.
kenan..
you had not spoken to him in a few weeks, it had been radio silent on both ends, so a sudden message made you worry..
you click on a message, being directed to your messaging app. glad you turned off your read receipts a long time ago. your eyes skim over the messages, your brows furrowing in confusion.
"y/n"
"i know we haven't spoken in a while"
"and you're busy with studying.."
"but I'm worried about you"
"don't you think we should talk?"
you let out a deep sigh, already knowing you're done for the day. placing your phone back down, you ponder to yourself. you turn your laptop off, slipping it into its case.
blowing out your scented candle, and placing your stationary back into its place, you stand up from your bed.
your happy that your roommate is out tonight. spending the night with her boyfriend. you didn't care if it was allowed or not, but being alone meant that it was the perfect night to- call him..
you grab a makeup wipe, wiping off any mascara residue on your face. you go on and do your nighttime routine in the communal bathrooms, next to your dorm room.
you jump into bed when all clean. pulling the blanket on your body, and shove your charger into the power socket next to your pillows, your screen lighting up when you plug your phone in.
sighing, you place your phone next to you, mentally trying to convince yourself to ignore the messages.
kenan and you were technically still in a relationship, just on a break for now. it had been a couple weeks since you both had decided to go on a break.
you still didn't know what you were to each other, especially when you were on a break. but, a situationship, could be an arguable term to use..
currently, your main focus is your academic goals. you wanted to study, get your education up, and widen your horizons.
as a young, recently turned adult- life was challenging to navigate. just like many of your classmates in high school, you decided to continue studying.
your appetite for education and academic achievements pushed you to focus on school, unlike kenan.
to him, his life was all planned out. he had graduated from high school, and the only thing he wanted to do for the rest of his life was play football until he physically wasn't able to, then retire, and live a calm life..
you loved him, of course. you tried to attend almost every match he invited you to, supported him when he was overseas, and made sure you respected the time he needed to train. before he came back absolutely exhausted, leaving no time for you to spend with him.
this lead to multiple arguments, for weeks, you'd told him about your concerns. you were worried you both would grow apart, without even noticing.
the entire conversation had come crashing down, when you had a full-on breakdown, after he had cancelled your date, with just a single, small sentence.
you stood there in front of him, dressed to impress, only to hear a soft 'I'm tired, sorry, liebe..", while he threw himself onto your bed.
your face had dropped, tears running down your face by the time you'd stopped yelling at him, telling him how 'fucking draining' it is to try to upkeep the relationship.
by the end of that night, you had both shed tears, curses and apologies leaving kenan's lips as he'd realized how you felt.
you had both come to the conclusion to go on a break, time apart would be better for the two of you. time to figure out your own identities, and trying to navigate what actually drove you to accomplish more in your young lives.
to get your mind off the situation, and to be alone for a while- you had immediately filled out an application to study in the united states for half your school year.
it was insanely difficult at first, but slowly you came to like your environment. meeting new people at multiple frat parties on the weekends, and having more friends than you could ever dream of.
you turn in your bed, and shift for a couple minutes. your eyes flickering to the clock on the wall.
it was almost nine-thirty, if you calculated right, like you've been doing every single time you think of kenan, it was almost three in morning in turpin, italy.
you wonder if he's still up, it's unusual for him to be up this late. he had a match tomorrow, you knew that because you definitely stalked him on numerous football apps.
old habits die hard..
you wanted to see his handsome face, those pretty eyes that looked at you like you were the most beautiful being on earth. his smile that had you cheesing, and not to forget, his fluffy hair.
the hair you would always run your fingers through, comforting him when he was sad, or verbally helping him sort difficult things out..
you scoff at yourself, just a couple weeks ago you were crying over the fact that he was too busy for you. now, seeing a couple texts from him, had your heart beating as fast as it was, when you first caught sight of him, back in high school.
you finally cave in, sitting up in your bed, back leaning against your cheap headboard. you turn your phone on quickly, fingers tapping on the all too familiar name.
it was all muscle memory at this point, and you suck in a breath before sending kenan a message.
"are you still up?"
"call me if you're up.."
you text, sending it, and rub a hand down your face. waiting for him to reply, or call you.
it only takes a few more seconds before you see your screen change, your reflection starting back at you.
a video call?
being honest, you didn't look your best. dressed in old pajamas, hair undone and skin going through it.
though, kenan had seen you at your worst already, and you had seen his worst as well..
you click on the green circle, adjusting your camera so you can, at least, look a little decent.
you hold your breath when he accepts. eyes roaming around his face. he looked noticeably different than the last time you saw him, in real life at least.
"hi.." you begin, blinking at him. silence falling in between you.
he looks exhausted, eye bags visible and dark, his fluffy hair all messy and unkempt.
"y/n.." he speaks your name, his voice thick and raspy. it obvious he hasn't slept yet, though he looks insanely tired.
"you wanted to talk?.." you speak, voice a whisper, even though you knew nobody could eavesdrop on you.
"I did, schatz.." the nickname falls from his mouth before he can stop himself, his expression turning visibly flushed.
"well, what did you want to say?"
"how are you? how's boston?"
"fine, it's better than I thought it would be.." your words feel empty, voice slightly quivering from nerves. "how are you?" you ask, shifting, so he can see your face properly.
he doesn't answer for a moment, eyes glued on you, before his lips part.
"good, training for the euros.."
"in germany? It's like three in the morning over there. why are you up?"
"you calculated that quickly.." kenan says, and you notice a glint in his eyes. the one he always does when he tries make you flustered or tease you..
"it's a six-hour difference, kenan.."
you hear his breath hitch after you say his name, and he moves out of frame for a moment.
"i miss you."
the words hit you like multiple bricks, your eyes widening slightly at the confession. you missed him too, you missed him to death..
"i want you here, liebe. right next to me, reading your little book, while you play with my hair. I can't sleep without you, schatz."
you gasp unknowingly, dropping your phone onto your mattress, before picking it up quickly.
you open your mouth to say anything, something- but you're beat to it by kenan..
"I can't stand it. I can't stand- knowing you're so far away. dressed in the prettiest dress, having fun, and partying all night. so many men coming up to you, asking for your number. I can't be there and keep them away from you. I can't keep you safe. do you tell them that you have a boyfriend? do you call me- us a situationship?"
you take his words in, looking away from the screen.
"how do you know all of that?" you ask, voice with a sharp edge to it.
"elena told me.."
your best friend, back home.
"what did she say?" you frown, sitting up straight.
elena and you had been the closest friends for years now. you would tell her absolutely everything, and talking about guys hitting on you was definitely something you told her last week.
"she dm'd me via instagram, remember when you made me follow her in case I needed to contact you, but your phone was dead?"
you hum at the memory, huffing and getting impatient.
"well, what did she say?"
"she told me you're partying. that's not my problem, of course. she told me you're getting hit on left and right. elena told me I should ‘get my shit together’ and reach out to you, before I lose you to any one of those disgusting frat boys.."
you watch his jaw clench, his facial expression blank as he looks into the camera.
“kenan..” you say, looking away for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts.
“I miss you too..”
your own words open the flood gates of your eyes, and you move your phone away from your face. soft sobs making your body shake and slump over.
“don’t cry, baby..” he whispers, his own brown eyes glimmering with tears, and he wishes he was right there, next to you..
“I can’t help it. I want to see you again, but will you ever change or actually want to be together?”
“of course I will, liebe. spending so much time away from each other, it makes me think of how I’ve treated you. I was an absolute idiot, but I want to make it right, baby..”
“how will you do that?” you ask, trying to wipe the tears away, though, they don’t stop.
he’s quiet for a moment, but speaks when he’s thought about it.
“okay, when you’re back in turpin, I want to see you. when you land, I’ll pick you up, and we’ll talk. is that okay, baby?
you nod almost immediately, slightly self-conscious about how desperate you to reunite with him.
“good, baby- now go to bed, okay? I know you have class tomorrow. sleep tight, I love you so much..”
“I love you too, kenan..”
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sinofwriting · 5 months ago
Text
Claiming - Charles Leclerc (Dark Fic)
Words: 1,310 Summary: In a world where F1 drivers can claim someone as a wife while at a race, here is Charles' version. Note(s): DARK FIC, this is dark. Dubious Consent/Touching (not sexual), Reader was essentially kidnapped. I will be making other fics like this for a few other drivers where they claim a wife. And thank you 🦢 anon for this idea and all your thoughts! Edit: Takes place during/after Imola 2024
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She doesn’t want to sit on the bed. She doesn’t want to be in this room. She doesn’t want him touching her. But she doesn’t want to make him angry, fears what his reaction could be, what he could do to her. So she sits at the edge of the luxurious hotel bed. Her shoulders hunching, her hands gathered in her lap, her legs pressed painfully tight together.
She’s taking up as little space as she can, but he still sits right next to her, his thigh pressing against her and she has to resist flinching.
“You are so tense.” He murmurs, his voice practically caressing her ear. The sound of it makes her release a breath she didn’t even know she was holding. And in doing so she takes in a breath, nearly becoming dizzy at the perfect smell of his cologne. “I’m sorry.” She manages to say. He clicks his tongue, running a hand up and down her back. It’s supposed to be a soothing touch and she has to force herself not to tense further. “Don’t apologize, mon ange. Would a bath help?” She eagerly nods at the suggestion, wants to weep at the idea of it.
She needs a moment alone. Ever since she was taken to Ferrari’s garage, she’s had him right there by her, never more than an arms length away. She wants to sink into scalding water and let the pain of it distract her from what has happened.
“Please.” She whispers. He smiles, pleased, and she hates that she likes the look on him. “I’ll go get it started.” She wants to protest, but he’s pressing his lips to her forehead and then standing, striding over to the bathroom. And she remains frozen on the bed, even when she hears the sound of water rushing out and hitting the tub.
When Charles comes back, he’s shirtless and she makes a noise at the sight. He gives her another pleased smile. “I prefer my baths to be very hot, so if you’d like it to be cooler, you will have to wait a few minutes.” He tells her, gesturing for her to join him and she does, letting him guide her with a hand on the back into the bathroom. Stepping inside, she lets out a shaky breath. The entire mirror is steamed up and she can see how hot the water is in the large tub. “Thank you.” “Of course.” She waits for a moment for him to leave, but he just continues to look at her, eyes half lidded, lips ever so slightly parted as he leans against the bathroom counter.
She turns away from him, tears threatening to prick her eyes, and she forces herself to breath as she reaches for the hem of her polo. As soon as it’s pulled over her head, she nearly shakes. She wants to ask him to look away, to stop watching her undress, she can feel his eyes on her. She wants to drop to her knees and beg for him to come back when she’s fully naked. She’s never gotten undressed in front of anyone. It feels intimate to do so, it feels worse somehow for him to be watching her do this.
Her bra comes off next and she can hear the sound of his breathing pick up as it drops onto the floor, the skin of her back exposed to him. She takes her underwear and pants off at the same time, thankful when her socks come off as well.
She thinks she’s supposed to turn to him, to let him get a full look at her, but the bath is right there, calling her name, the water clear, no bath bomb or bubbles to hide anything. He could get a full look at her like that.
Stepping into the bath, she shudders at the feeling of near burning hot water. It laps around her and while she normally sinks into her baths, this time she eases herself down and into the water. Her eyes closing when she is fully in and laying down, the top of her neck even a little wet.
She almost forgets that he is there, but then a hand is caressing her shoulder and this time she can’t help her flinch. “I’m sorry.” He apologizes and she hates that it sounds sincere. “Scoot up for me?” Grabbing at the sill of the tub, she carefully pulls herself forward, stopping when he makes a noise. “Good girl.” He murmurs and suddenly the water rises against her and her eyes fly open when she feels the sensation of skin grazing her back and as she looks down, she sees legs on either side of her body just barely not touching her. Then hands are on her hips, gently guiding her back until her back is pressed against a naked chest and she can feel him against her. His hands move from her hips so he can wrap his arms around her.
He lets out a happy sound at contact. “Comfortable?” She forces herself to nod. “Good. Now just relax, mon ange. You’ll feel much better.”
She wakes up and Charles is still holding on to her, his grip tight but not bruising, so clearly keeping her there and she can’t help but cry.
She was his forever, he had claimed her, the paperwork probably already has been registered. She didn’t even get to say goodbye to her family. The thought hadn’t crossed her mind until now, but it does and she has to slap a hand over her mouth.
She was never going to see her mom, have her fuss over her. Her dad was never going to call her champ, she was never going to get to eat his food again. Her grandmother and her heart aches even more. She was never going to see her grandma again, feel her hand against her cheek as she looked in her eyes, making sure that when she said of course I’m happy that she actually was. She was never going to get the family dinners with so many things being passed around it made her dizzy. The shots that everyone took if they were old enough.
She doesn’t realize it, but her whole body is shaking and it wakes the man holding her.
“Mon ange,” his voice is thick with sleep and confusion and she holds her breath. “What’s the matter?” She doesn’t say anything, her body still shaking, but she hopes her lack of response will make him think that she’s asleep. It doesn’t, his hands move around her body until he easily can turn her so she’s facing him. “Oh,” his eyes are wide, voice mournful as he sees her tears. “What happened?” She doesn’t say anything, just stares at him with tears in her eyes, hand still clamped over her mouth. His brows furrow and he moves her hand away from her mouth. “What is wrong? What has you crying?” “I’m never gonna see them.” The words come out and she’s gasping for breath and his brows furrow more. “Who, mon ange?” “My family. I’m never going to see my mom or my dad. My grandma, my cousins, my aunts and uncles. I’m never going to see any of them again.” She’s sobbing and she hates that when he runs a hand over her back, trying to calm her before urging her to press her face into his chest, she does. “Of course you will.” He finally says when she’s calmed a little. The words have her pulling back, silent as she stares at him with wide eyes. He chuckles, running a finger beneath her eye to get rid of the tears still clinging there. “Of course you will see them again. They make you happy and I want to know my in-laws, after all.”
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