#tonight I'm sad and hating everything | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bunnys-kisses · 2 months ago

Note

I have a big order, I would like a peach cake, pancakes and add a lemon slice to that then I’d like a side of earl grey and chai served by Lando Norris xx

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want to submit something to the bakery? then hit up the menu! there's tons of items to choose from! i hope you find something that you love and i'd love to hear from you! thank you! for this order, this was lovely to write after my little (two day) hiatus! i hope you love it, lovely anon!

peach cake ("if you spill a drop, we start all over.") + pancakes ("if you bite me. i'll bite you back.") + lemon slice ("i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making.") + early grey tea (big cock) + chai (biting/hickies) served by lando norris (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, big cock!lando, biting/hickies, unprotected sex, (slight) breeding kink, (sort of) brat!reader, size kink, oral sex (lando receiving)

lando liked when you pouted. when he watched the bottom lip stick out and those sweet lashes fluttered at him. it was painfully cute in his honest opinion. when you'd pout over something sad, or when you wanted something really badly and would do anything to get your hands on it.

but while lando liked a better look at your soft bottom lip, he hated when you were a brat.

currently lando had you between his legs, with your throat gagging on his cock. your eyes closed and your hands gripping onto his thighs for some kind of leverage as he pushed his cock as deep as it would go.

fuck lando norris and his big cock.

he loved the sight of you though, a total mess after you meticulously put yourself together for the grand prix. reduced down to a lowly little slut for lando to use to his liking while riding the high of his win. earlier you wanted to go out after the race with some of the other girlfriends, but lando wanted you back at the hotel with him.

letting him indulge in his favourite post-race activity, making a mess of that sweet little cunt of yours. he loved your cunt, he was addicted to it in some ways. he wanted to be buried deep inside of you and kissing at your back until you were whining on the sheets.

"how does that feel? finally got some sense into you?" he asked.

you looked up at him and tried to form words, but it all came out a jumbled mess. you leaned into his touch as he ran his fingers through your hair with a hint of affection.

but his words were venomous, "i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making." and it made you stomach flip. he pulled your mouth off his cock and you looked at him with a hazy gaze.

your throat felt raw, but in a split second decision. you leaned in and bit a hickey into the inner part of lando's thigh to feel that thrum of pleasure in your body. but you didn't get it too dark before lando ripped your head away and you looked up at him once more.

he chuckled lowly, "silly, silly girl. is this your revenge for me suggesting that we stay in tonight. i haven't felt you in a long time. is that a bad thing to way? to feel you?"

you replied, "lando."

"remember, baby girl. if you bite me. i'll bite you back." and you knew that it wasn't some kinky talk. he meant it. you still remembered your trip to paris in summer, and you in high collared jackets and turtlenecks. lando liked your pretty neck and breasts all covered in his bites.

you were his to mark. to claim.

you whimpered and kept your eyes on his. you felt a twist in your belly and a surge of heat in your body. everything felt very hot and you rubbed your thighs together.

"fuck, you're beautiful. see, no need to be a brat. just let me have you, i promise i'm just as good as any club or bar. why have a few drinks when you can have a few of my loads in your mouth."

you pouted and he helped you onto the bed. his spit-slick cock twitched with excitement over how you looked at him. his heart leapt as he got you onto your back, he knew you were soaked. you needed this too.

he pressed his chest against yours and tapped your nose, "remember our rule? if you spill a drop, we start all over." then pulled you into a tight kiss, the taste of his cock lingered on your lips as he sank it inside of your sickeningly sweet hole.

you whined and gripped onto the covers under you for a moment before you wrapped your arms around him and held him close. your lips remained together as he got your legs around his waist.

you two rutted against one another, the feeling left you feeling excited. being so close to lando made you stomach twist and your heart hammer against your ribs.

"you're so pretty under me. who allowed you to be this beautiful." he groaned as he held your thighs to get a better angle of his cock inside of you. he loved when you went dumb for him after a few thrusts. your poor little cunt. the sweet drooling little thing that always enticed him. day in and day out.

"please, lando." you squirmed a little bit as you felt his cock nudge against some of the softest parts of you. your stomach curled and you held onto his shoulders tighter. your poor little cunt was going to be bruised by the end of this.

"i know, baby girl. let me have this, let me have your sweet little cunt. you drive me crazy." his thrusts were fast and erratic, there was little rhythm to them. only that he gets his pleasure in your brain.

he started to kiss at your neck, soon his teeth were grazing against the soft plains of your neck. he could feel your pulse under his teeth. he fit against you perfectly, even if his larger cock seemed to make your insides all messy.

the first time you got together, he actually didn't fit inside of you. he had to work you until he could at least get the tip in. when he did though, it felt like total euphoria.

he loved the feeling of you around him. you were a perfect fit for him. he couldn't get enough of your sweetness. letting it stain the base of his cock in a sick desire for more. no wonder he was so hesitant to let you go out and party.

he was your big strong man, your protector and lover. his blood boiled for you in a sexual way. he wanted hid sweet girl, and he wanted to be balls deep inside of her. blame him for being aroused by you.

he eyed are you as he moved against you, "you take me so well."

"lando."

he chuckled and kissed you once more. he could feel the heat in his gut as he moved against you. you felt like a sweet dream to him. his core burned for you as he moved. it felt so good to be balls deep inside of you, it was like where he belonged. he needed to be inside of his sweet girl.

"please, shit, lando. you feel so good. fuck." you whimpered as you tried to arch your back to get him deeper inside of you. but he had you pinned under him as he littered your neck with hot bites. you felt so good, maybe he was right. why get drunk when you could get cock drunk!

"i'm glad you like it. see isn't be with me much better. you get your pretty, puffy pussy all fucked out by me."

he didn't know how much longer it was going to take for him. he could feel the thump in his chest and his hot face. he continued to ram into you, making sure every centimeter of your pussy was touched by him.

"pretty thing." he purred with a chuckle as he continued to fuck you rapidly. it all flooded his head with heat.

with a few more heavy thrusts of his hips. he finished inside of you, but his cock was still hard as he hammered into you. which in turn pulled an orgasm out of you, you held onto him tightly and kissed him as you came. you clenched onto him and melted into the kiss. you soon relaxed out on the bed.

spread out for him, full of cum and feeling good all over. you shifted a little as lando put your legs down onto the bed. cum stuck to the side of your pussy and a little got onto the bed. he admired your for a moment and pulled your face in for a hot kiss.

you stayed curled up inside of him. but as he held you, his soft words came into your ear, "hmm. seems you spilled a drop, baby girl." then put you back onto your back, "guess we have to try again." <3

1K notes · View notes

borathae · 10 months ago

Text

"Jungkook returns from a work trip, which kept you away from each other for three long weeks. He seeks comfort in the fact that he can finally fall asleep next to you again. Come morning however, those giddy feelings turned into fiery desire. It doesn't matter that you are still sleeping. Jungkook missed you and he needs you."

♢ Requested by @seagulljk ♢

Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: married life!AU, Slice of Life Fluff, Smut

Warnings: cute love notes, naked cuddling, sub!Jungkook, Dom!Reader, mommy kink, she calls him Bunny, consensual somnophilia, humping of her butt, thigh fucking, needy!Kook, begging, needy kisses, praise kink, good boy kink, spooning position, he cums too soon, creampie, sloppy oral (f.receiving), cum eating, pussy fingering, hair pulling (m.receiving), a bit of nipple play, body worshipping, possessive talk (he is all like "I'm yours"), subby boy tears, cuddly aftercare

Wordcount: 5.7k

a/n: I haven't heard from you in ages *stares longingly into distance* you requested this for Kinktober 22 and I finally finished it. it also fits perfectly into my biggest wish which is "kook comes homes". enjoy besties, this is so lovely ❤

Not being home has become way too regular for him. Jungkook hates it. He hates it so much. The penthouse is quiet once again when he arrives. There was no delay in flights or traffic jams, it is simply that his plane landed late. And he hates it. He hates how often he has to leave these days.

You knew of his late arrival and therefore Jungkook is greeted with a sticky note on the coat hanger. He picks it up, reading it as he slips out of his coat.

“Welcome home Bunny! Check fridge :D”

Jungkook smiles and slips the note into the front pocket of his suit. He discards the suitcase by the stairs like always on his way to the fridge. He opens it. His eyes instantly drift to the container of fried rice and the array of side dishes. He takes them out, eyes drifting to the second sticky note on one of the containers. He picks it up and reads it.

“Yaay you found me :D…”

Jungkook smiles, scrunching his nose as he continues reading.

“...you can warm up the rice if you want to and add some cheese on top. I put all my love into it ♡…”

Jungkook feels his heart flutter. He hugs the sticky note to his chest and closes his eyes. One little squeeze and then he continues.

“...sorry I couldn’t be there. Today drained me :(...”

“Oh no, I’m sorry”, Jungkook whispers and pouts.

“...I hope you are home safe. I adore you, my love ♡”

He smiles again, “I adore you too, my love.”

He gives the sticky note a kiss and places it on the counter for later safe storing. He keeps a box with all your memories and little letters in his home office. Actually, it is three boxes and he is in the midst of filling up the fourth one. Jungkook likes to keep everything. Truly everything concerning your relationship. Your sweet notes will find their warm home with all the other precious memorabilia tomorrow morning once he slept his jetlag off.

He puts the container of rice into the microwave and uses the time to carry his luggage upstairs. He’ll do the laundry tomorrow. He slips out of his suit and changes into a simple t-shirt and sweats combo, then hurries downstairs again. The food is warmed up and ready, filling his nose with a mouth-watering scent. He takes the container and the side dishes and eats them standing by the kitchen island and with his eyes zoned out on the city lights.

It’s a good time. Jungkook missed your food so much. It is once again important to mention that he doesn’t expect you to cook and that you do so because you want to. If you suddenly decide to stop cooking, Jungkook would be sad because he loves your food the most, but he wouldn’t be angry. You do this voluntarily and Jungkook loves every single dish you make. Tonight’s dish tastes especially good. You grilled chicken breast and some vegetables and you even added canned tuna to the rice, topping everything off with a savoury-spicy sauce. Jungkook loves it so much.

He had to be without you for twenty days. It was hell again. Of course it was because he wasn’t with you. He missed everything about you and that also included your food. It tastes so good. So homemade, so full of love and care. Jungkook enjoys every bite as if it was his first, humming and moaning to himself as he enjoys the good food.

Once done and happily sated, Jungkook washes the dishes and puts them back into their shelves. He wipes the part of the kitchen island counter he ate on and then makes his way to the upstairs bathroom to wash up. Afterwards and without any clothes on, he finally walks to the bedroom.

He is tired and more than anything, he misses you.

He sadly walks by the little sticky note you left on the bedroom door because he didn’t have the lights on. He will find it tomorrow and read it with sparkly eyes. It says something along the line that behind this door his snuggles are waiting. You are such a cheesy romantic these days. Jungkook loves it so much.

The blinds are closed completely. Like always, Jungkook uses the light of his phone screen to tiptoe to the bathroom so he could brush his teeth. Like always, he only uses his phone flashlight for vision and like always, he uses his phone screen again as he tiptoes to the bed. He turns on his purposefully-weak night light and uses it to apply lip balm and drink some water. Then he slips under the cover, keeping the nightlight on for a little longer. You are turned to him, sleeping halfway on your stomach and with your cheek squished.

Jungkook feels his heart swell and his stomach tingle. He reaches out and moves some of your hair out of your face. He brushes the back of his fingers down your temple and cheek, holding your hand afterwards. His thumb is drawing hearts on your skin.

“I missed you”, he whispers and moves closer to kiss your cheek, your temple and lastly your eyelid as gently as possible.

He gives the shell of your ear a soft kiss as well and caresses the back of your head before putting some distance between you and him.

He turns off the nightlight and holds your hand again. He didn’t even have to look for it. He knew exactly where he would find it.

He closes his eyes. He is so exhausted from travelling and finally being with you again is doing the rest to him. He is home again. And home means sleep. Jungkook listens to your breathing and finds healing in the sound of it.

Seconds later, he has joined you in dreamland, smiling faintly because nothing beats sleeping next to you.

Jungkook opens his eyes to darkness. He was wrong. There is one thing which can beat sleeping next to you. Waking up with you in his arms.

You are his little spoon, giving him warmth. He must have reached for you in his sleep or maybe you cuddled into him in your sleep. Whatever the case, Jungkook slept for nine hours and is waking up with you in his arms. Your scent is the only thing he takes in, he can feel your back sink and rise as you breathe, there is a little wet spot on his arm where you are drooling on him.

Jungkook smiles and pulls you closer. You would hate it, but you are so cute right now. You would probably wrestle him for it – gently of course and with love – if you read his thoughts right now, but Jungkook thinks you are cute as you drool on his arm.

His blanket slipped halfway off his body so that only the back side of his body was covered, while his front was pressed against your body. Your blanket served as a barrier and Jungkook doesn’t like that. He shimmies back just enough so that he can open the blanket and slip under. So now he has two blankets covering him and your body against his’.

He feels his breath hitch. You aren’t wearing clothes either. Your body is so warmed up from sleep, your skin is so soft. Jungkook feels his emotions overwhelm him. He was ready for everything but not to cuddle you naked on the first morning together again. He pulls you into his chest and exhales shakily. Your legs tangle as best as possible. Your butt applies pressure on his crotch. Jungkook feels whole again. This kind of emotion only you can give him. This kind of connection and comfort.

This work trip didn’t leave him as anxious as previous ones did. You visited him for three days in the middle of it, which made it easier to bear, but it was still not easy. Jungkook still had to go seventeen days without you and the last week of the trip was hell. The hours were inhumanely long, the nights were lonely and the yearning unbearable. So Jungkook finds healing in holding you as your bodies share the most intimate of states.

He stays like this for quite a while. Holding you. Feeling you. Breathing you. And experiencing you. This is what heaven is. This is it. This is the only thing which will make everything better again. Jungkook will fight through all the hellish work trips in the world if at the end of them, your hug awaits.

Jungkook sighs and relaxes his muscles. He falls asleep again like this. The comfort of cuddling you naked dragged him right down into sweet dreams. He sleeps for another hour, then he wakes again. You are still sleeping, holding his hand by now. Your position hasn’t changed, but the state of one certain body part has.

He got a boner.

Jungkook didn’t plan on getting hard. His plan was to cuddle and snuggle you until late into the morning and then when you wake up, kiss you for hours with the sweet thought that maybe passionate sex will follow.

He wasn’t planning on getting hard already, but it seems that his body has different plans for him. It’s not even one of his normal boners. The kind he always gets in the morning because he is a healthy man with healthy blood circulation.

This hard on aches and he knows for a fact that it won’t go away after a few minutes. It is here to stay and it is here to torture him.

It is currently squished between his body and your butt. The pressure, which once gave him comfort, is torturing him. You are so soft and warm that it gets difficult not to move.

He tries to check if maybe you are awake by giving your hand a little shake. You pull his hand closer, but stay unmoving otherwise. You are still asleep.

Jungkook takes a deep breath, feeling dizzy. He has two options. Ignore the boner and suffer or attempt to find relief by rubbing himself against you.

He knows that you wouldn’t mind if he did. You and he know that somno is allowed and appreciated, so Jungkook is aware that he has consent to get off with your sleeping body. He still hesitates. He always does because he feels like such a dirty man whenever he does it. He is embarrassed about getting so needy that he can’t even control himself anymore. And he also feels as if he is soiling your body. You are so precious to him, so to secretly find relief with you always leaves him feeling a little guilty.

You would call him a stupid noodle if you knew his thoughts.

Jungkook feels needy tingles go through his legs. The reminder of his beloved nickname made him even hornier. He loves being your stupid noodle and he always gets giddy when you call him this way.

He wiggles his hips. Slowly. Just a little. His pretty cockhead grinds against your butt up and down.

He squeezes your hand, muffling his shaky sigh in the back of your head. This felt so good. He wants to experience it again.

He wiggles his hips. His cock moves. Up and down. The sensation is electric. Your skin is so soft. Your warmth seeps so deep into his cock. He wants more.

He moves his hips and does it a second time right afterwards. His legs feel so, so warm as the pleasure emits from his cock.

“Oh god”, he sighs, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He is propped up on his elbow this way, using the new support to roll his hips into you. Your scent fills his nose as he inhales deeply in reaction to the grinds. Mellifluous and warm from sleep. You only smell like this when you spent hours cozy and comfy under the covers. You get this addicting sweetness to you. He always feels droopy from it.

Jungkook wets your skin because it makes him so, so needy to have it fill his senses. It makes grinding so much easier and for his needy hips to chase the short relief with eagerness.

He wants to fucking scream, this feels so good. Grinding hasn’t felt that good in ages. Jungkook knows it’s because he hadn’t been home for such a long time. The thought that he wasn’t, makes him want you even more.

Jungkook reaches between your bodies and grabs his own cock. He bends it so he can push it between your thighs. The friction is intense, bordering painful. It would be so much easier if he used lube. He can’t reach it right now. You are in the middle of the bed and if he moved too much, he’d wake you.

Jungkook bites down on his lower lip and pushes harder. It burns. He swallows the pain and pushes one last time. Your thighs welcome his cock, letting him sink between them. They hug and squeeze, feeling oh so hot around him.

“Mommy”, Jungkook moans and pulls his hips back. His cock slides from between your thighs. He pushes it back inside, leaving trails of wetness. It begins covering more and more of your skin, making the fucking easier.

Jungkook pulls back just to push inside. He does it over and over again, biting his lower lip so hard that it starts to hurt. If he wouldn't muffle himself, he’d wake you up with incessant moaning. Your thighs are so soft. The position they are in as you slumber, makes them press together naturally and therefore get so, so tight to fuck.

No wonder it hurt at first until he got embarrassingly needy. He gets wet so easily. The friction isn’t uncomfortable anymore. It is still there, but it feels amazing. It makes sure to drag and move his sensitive skin right over the spots which are filled with the most nerve endings and Jungkook can’t stop.

He fucked himself needy. There is no escape anymore. He has to continue. His boner wouldn’t ever go down otherwise.

“Holy fuck, Mommy”, he whimpers and drags his parted lips over your neck in what try to be kisses. He is so, so drooly in his worshiping attempt, but he can’t help himself. Your thighs make him feel so, so, so woozy.

He kisses, licks and sucks your neck with closed eyes and his leaky cock twitching between your thighs. Small moans escape him. He has no control over them. He is too far gone. Too lost in how good you feel.

Oh how lost he is. So, so lost that he doesn’t even realise he began slipping up until he suddenly feels something else grind against his cock as well. Your pussy. Soft. Your groomed pubes bring such a new sensation to the fuck.

“Mommy please”, it makes Jungkook beg instantly. He closes his arms around you, pulling you into his chest as his hips pick up a needy pace.

This is making him desperate. He is so close to the warmest and softest spot of your body. He is right there. At his home. And he can’t slip inside because the current position would end up hurting for you. You are too tight to slip in. Jungkook is left fucking his needy cock between your thighs and make do with what little contact he has to your pussy.

“Mommy please wake up”, he begs and sucks on your earlobe. He mewls and keens, finding immense relief in the sensation. His cock twitches, his body shivers, “oh god”, he croaks. His lips are pressed to your ear as he begs, “please Mommy, please.”

You shift in his arms, rolling closer into his chest. Your head moves. Jungkook’s heart skips beats. His hips stutter in excitement.

“Bunny?”

“Hey Mommy, hey”, he gets out and mewls, “oh god, you’re awake.”

“What’s happening?” your voice is heavy in sleep. You sound so out of it still.

“I’m sorry. Mommy, I’m sorry. I got hard”, he confesses and whimpers as he fucks his cock between your thighs in example.

You are barely awake. You still feel disoriented from sleep, so the sensation of Jungkook fucking his cock between your thighs is hidden behind a droopy veil.

“Please can I slip it in?” Jungkook begs and pulls you closer with his hand dimpling your side.

“Mhm Bunny, you’re doing things”, you lull and laugh sleepily, “you stupid noodle.”

Jungkook trembles. Tears shoot to his eyes. He whimpers in overwhelming emotion.

“Please Mommy, please I’m begging you. Oh god, I wanna be inside so bad. Oh god”, he babbles in high pitched pleas, shaking behind you as his twitchy cock leaks all over your skin.

His begs are muffled as well. You are so nicely gone in sleep still. You are very awake between your legs however. Jungkook’s needy humping brought all the attention right between them and woke you up. So while the rest of your body was still useless in sleepiness, you feel achingly awake on the spots where his cock grinds against you.

“Please, I’ll be careful. Please, I’m begging you”, Jungkook pleads, struggling with his thrusts as his legs tremble, “oh god, I don’t know what to do. It hurts so much”, he gets out and sobs into your neck, “Mommy please make it stop, please.”

“Fuck, you’re so needy”, you chuckle lazily, giving his hand a little squeeze. You shift your hips and lift your leg.

“No, please more”, Jungkook begs and tries to push your leg down again.

“Bunny, I’m trying to give you access. What are you doing?” you laugh, shaking him off.

“Oh. Oh god, I’m so stupid”, he babbles.

“No, you’re not. Slip in, Bunny.”

“Mommy”, he whimpers and follows your order instantly. He pushes inside. The breach steals your breath away. Insane warmth fills your pussy instantly. Holy fuck, you missed him so much.

You reach behind yourself, burying your hand in his hair. You close your eyes because being filled with him feels too overwhelming not to.

“Mommy”, he whimpers, letting his head drop against the side of your face, “I love you”, he squeaks and bottoms out. He shakes and trembles, soiling your cheek with a sloppy attempt at a kiss as his arms pull you tighter against him.

“I love you too, Bunny.”

“Oh god, ahmhm.”

He chases you instantly. The sensation is too addicting not to. He whimpers and mewls as he does, leaving kiss marks all over your face. You have your head turned to him so you are getting kissed everywhere. Your cheek, your nose, your eyelid and forehead. Down your temple until he finally lingers on your lips for longer.

You receive them with closed eyes and a droopy smile. He feels so good. He feels so good filling you up, he feels so good holding you and he feels so good kissing your face. This is the best way to wake up. Nothing will ever top this.

You drop your leg again because you got tired. The sensation intensifies. You moan feeling your senses blur. He is inside you. It gets so intensely obvious now that you are so tight.

“Mommy”, he whimpers into the kiss, feeling his legs shake, “tight, ah.”

“I know. Feels so good”, you whisper with a dizzy head. You can feel him shift and move inside you. His cock is so soft and covered in your wet pleasure. It grinds against your butt and parts of your thighs each time he moves, leaving trails of wetness behind. You know that he us getting fucked twice. By your pussy and your thighs.

“It’s so intense”, he gets out and moans desperately.

“I know, you’re getting fucked so good. Mhm?”

“So good”, he whimpers, “oh god, Mommy.”

“My Bunny”, you moan and pull him back into a kiss as you finally show him the rhythm you want. He is a little sloppy at first until you calm him down with rubs to his neck and your tongue guiding his’.

And while his lips calm down against yours, his hips become needier. He pushes them against you as tightly as possible, keeping his cock so, so deep inside one might wonder if he tries to bury his balls in you as well. He probably would if he could.

Oh, he wants to fucking melt with you. He is so deep inside and yet he still aches. Not even your pussy is giving him the relief he needs. He keeps pressing against you, chasing the tight hug of your soft warmth with small circles of his hips.

You moan into the kiss, twisting his hair gently. Jungkook whimpers because he knows what this means. He is hitting the right spot. Or at least he is getting there.

He feels that you are different than on days where you dedicate a lot of time to foreplay. He knows that you haven’t been paid attention to for enough time that your pussy could properly shift and change to take cock. But he is getting there. Your moans and needy twisting of his hair is letting him know.

He slides his right hand down your stomach, lingering on the lowest part for a moment. He presses down until he feels how his cock shifts inside.

The kiss breaks, “Bunny”, you breathe and arch your back so you could press yourself closer. He is squeezing the sensitive parts right against his cock. The small circles of his hips give them a constant massage. It feels so good.

“Is it good? Am I careful enough?” he asks in a trembling voice.

“Yeah, ah”, you let out a little moan and pull him down against your lips.

Jungkook feels his cock throb. Not only on his cock but also against his hand. He doesn’t know how to handle the increasing pleasure running through his veins and so he slides his hand from your stomach to rub your clit instead. He picks up some of the juices coating his cock and uses them to massage circles into your sensitive spot.

“Bunny", you break the kiss again to gasp and moan. You throb under his fingers, convulse around his cock. The spots he hits inside gain in sensitivity. You are burning up.

“Am I doing good, Mommy?” he begs for your praise. Please. It is everything he needs.

“So good”, you get out and push back against him, “good Bunny, holy fuck ah…”

“Mommy", he sobs softly and feels his hips falter, “oh god, I’m close.”

“Suddenly?”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

He stops his thrusts in an attempt to calm down the approaching high, but he is too far gone. His thoughts are pushing him over the edge. You praised him. This is everything he needed.

“Ah! Oh god, sorry”, he moans and trembles, “no, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Mommy.”

You chuckle fondly, running your fingers through his hair. He is so adorable. Your sweet Bunny so, so excited from being praised that it’s throwing him over the edge.

“I’m so sorry oh god it feels so goood.”

“There we go, let it all out Bunny. That’s it”, you talk him through it, playing with his hair as you do. You can’t even be mad at him for stopping. Not when he is so adorable.

Jungkook finishes after five twitchy strokes, dropping on top of you as his face hides away in your neck. His cock is buried inside, pulsating weakly as he recovers.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, this was so bad of me. I’m sorry”, he gets out between quick pants.

“You’re right. You’re such a bad Bunny”, you lull, grinning to yourself.

“I’m sorry, Mommy”, he whimpers, shaking in a little sob, “oh god, I’m a bad Bunny. So, so bad. Mommy, you can punish me.”

“No Bunny. No punishments. I want you to say sorry.”

“Oh god”, he croaks.

You smile.

He understood. Good.

“Can you do that for me, Bunny? Can you say sorry?”

“Yes, Mommy. I can. Oh, I can”, he says and slips out of you.

He rolls you onto your back and disappears under the blanket. Seconds later you feel his hot mouth on your pussy and his long fingers holding your waist.

“Mhhm fuck”, you purr, arching your back languidly as his hot tongue laps at your pussy. The sensation is different from his fingers. Wetter, hotter and softer. You fucking love every second of it.

He mewls under the blanket, feeling so dizzy. His cum keeps seeping out of you. No matter how hard he tries to clean you, he just can’t finish it. You keep leaking more and more.

“Mommy, I came so much”, he lets you know and swirls his tongue down your folds, lapping at your entrance. He needs to clean you. He needs to say sorry. He needs to be a good boy. He licks your creamed entrance, trying so hard to get it clean.

“You did”, you sigh your words, feeling lightheaded, “keep going until I’m clean.”

Jungkook hums in obedience and slurps. He licks, laps, slurps and sucks, needing you to be clean so fucking bad. He needs to show you that he is still good. That he is your best Bunny and not a naughty Bunny. This is all he needs and all he craves. He wants you to know that what he did was a mistake. And that he regrets it deeply.

“Fuck, you feel so good”, you let out and writhe happily. His tongue is filling you as far as he can reach, while his nose is buried between your folds. He has the perfect nose. It fits so perfectly in your pussy to grind on your clit whenever he tongue fucks you.

“Good Bunny, you’re so…good…”

Jungkook mewls at the praise, dimpling your waist as his needy fingers close tighter around you. Your lovely taste begins seeping more and more through the tangy taste of his own cum. He is doing such a good job at cleaning you, speeding up his tongue because he is so excited for your taste.

It makes the wettest sound, filling the air with it. It motivates him to perform even better. To press himself closer and fill your pussy. His nose is covered in your juices, stimulating your clit. He feels her throb on the tip of his nose as your scent surrounds him. You smell so warm after penetration. He can’t get enough, showing his desperation by curling his tongue inside you.

Your legs tremble and slip over his arms. Propped up on the mattress and continuing to shake, they lift the blanket just enough that fresh air gets to him. It was so perfectly stuffy and warm before, but Jungkook doesn’t want to complain because he is trapped under your legs and that feels so good.

“You’re so fucking good”, you get out breathily and run your fingers through his hair. You do it with both hands, giving him loving caresses without ever pulling at his hair. The sensation brings trembles to Jungkook’s lips. The tingles don’t stop running down his spine.

He breaks away because he genuinely can’t breathe. His nose was blocked by your pussy and his mouth gagged by it. He didn’t want to break away but he had to. He pants, recovering by sloppily kissing the inside of your thighs. He holds them in his hands for it, leaving spots of sensitivity because he sucks way too hard. You let him because it feels so good.

“I belong to you”, he gets out, “oh god, I’m yours. Yours. I’m yours.”

“Yeah, mine”, you sigh, “my Bunny.”

“Yours. You own me”, he croaks and connects his mouth with your pussy. He moans, sucking your clit between his lips to make out with it needily.

His drool runs down your folds and leaves you so messy for later. He can’t help it, you taste mouth-wateringly good. All cleaned of his cum and so intensely you. Jungkook swears he gets dizzy because of it. He missed your taste so much. So, so much.

“Fuck Bunny”, your voice trembles, just as your legs do, “my good Bunny, fuck you’re so good. Holy fuck”, you whispered at first but end up babbling the words as his quick tongue fucks your clit sensitive.

Jungkook swears he will actually scream because of your praise. He loves it on normal days, but something about it today affects him like nothing else. He feels delirious from it, high and totally out of it. Perhaps it is because he had to be with it for seventeen days. Perhaps he is so starved for it, because his situation starved him.

He slides his right hand from your waist and shifts a little so he could run his fingers down your folds. Your juices and his drool cover them instantly. He slides his left arm over your tummy, squeezes your side and pushes his fingers inside. Three at a time because you feel so ready for it.

“Holy fuck. Ah!”

You arch your back and pull his hair.

“Jungkook.”

His name fell from your lips. Jungkook presses himself closer and curls his fingers needily. He is doing the best job. You only moan his name when he’s got you high on pleasure.

Your right leg drops in the sheets because you didn’t have support anymore. You prop it again clumsily and roll your hips into him.

“Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Oh god”, you chant, gasping for air repeatedly.

Jungkook mewls and moans against your pussy. His mouth is pressed to your clit, his tongue is lapping at her in upwards motions. He moans each time he drags it down again and pulls another shake from your legs.

Your pussy is convulsing around his fingers, leaking constantly. Your favourite spot is so swollen under his fingertips. He would have to be a total idiot not to know where to touch because it is so fucking obvious to him. And oh how he touches you, how he makes sure that you get fucked so good now that his cock failed to do so.

“Fuck Bunny”, your voice is slightly pitched, your fingers twist bundles of his hair, “I’m…close…mh ah.”

Jungkook shakes in excitement. His instinct is to speed up, to do something different so you know how talented he is. But he knows better. You don’t want him to change anything, you want him to continue doing what he is doing right now. So he controls himself. He brings in your waist a little from his desperate grip and he moans against your pussy as his drooly mouth makes love to her. He curls his fingers where you need it most and he keeps pressing down on it as he rubs circles on it.

You arch your back, twisting his hair because it is all that helps. You missed him so much. You missed his touch, his moans, his mouth on you. You are just as sensitive as him, closing your thighs around his head as the fire in your body gets too much.

“You’re making me cum”, you moan and drop in the sheets with a loud groan of his name. He drags his tongue up and breaks you. Your entire body is overtaken by the fire instantly, it feels most intense in your pussy. “ah Bunny, ah, aha, aah, oh god Bunny…”

Jungkook licks you through it, spilling tears of happiness because he is making you feel good and because he really missed feeling your orgasm on his tongue. You always throb and pulsate so much and it’s the best feeling ever. You’re squeezing his fingers so much, tightening in the most perfect ways. Jungkook fingers and licks and sucks you through it, moaning as if he was the one orgasming.

“Woah damn, wait”, you get out, tugging him away after the good turns bad because of overstimulation, “too much. Sensitive. Woah”, you add and twitch repeatedly.

“Mommy”, Jungkook gets out and kisses paths of admiration up your stomach. He pulls his fingers free, using them to hold you instead. To feel you up and remind his brain how it is to cradle you.

“Thank you so much”, he breathes, covering every inch of your stomach with kisses.

You enjoy it with closed eyes and your lungs working so hard to get air inside. Oh you feel so dizzy. This is going to take a while.

Jungkook reappears from under the blanket, worshiping your chest now that every inch of your stomach has been adored. He cradles your breasts in his hands, kissing every inch of them with love and shaky breaths.

“You’re such a good Bunny”, you whisper, feeling his lips tremble against your nipple. He takes it inside and sucks on it, mewling your name because you make him feel so good. He breaks away with yet another mewl of your name, kissing paths up to your neck.

His crotch meets your own, sharing the warm, sticky connection of good orgasms. He is soft, which lets you know that it will take a while for him as well. His tummy and chest are on top of yours, his elbows dimple the pillow beside your head. He hides away in the crook of your neck and begins kissing your sensitive skin.

“I missed you so much”, he whispers and hugs you.

Your head is cradled between his own head and the tensing muscles of his upper arm. His warm scent is so strong this way, his skin feels like heaven. You roll your head to the side so you could rub your nose against his head, and close your arms around him.

“I missed you too”, you say and kiss his cheek, “my best Bunny, this was the loveliest way to wake up.”

“Yeah”, he sighs, “it was so good. Mommy, can you praise me again?”

You smile, hugging him closer, “my best Bunny, you’re such a good boy.”

“Did I do a good job?”

“Yes Bunnybaby, you did the best job.”

Jungkook giggles, melting into you as he puts his weight on you. He wiggles happily, making you smile.

“You’re cute.”

“I love praise so much.”

“I know Bunny and you deserve it”, you say, listening to his happy giggles.

“I’m so happy to be home again”, he says and snuggles closer, “my Mommy. I missed you so much.”

“Mhm yeah”, you agree and ruffle his hair, “you’re not leaving again. You’ll stay in my arms today.”

He giggles, “this is the best day ever.”

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pretentious-blonde · 2 months ago

Text

patched up

pairing: remus lupin x reader

summary: you help remus clean up after the full moon, reminding him once again how much he is loved, even if he thinks he is underserving

warnings: cuts, wounds, physical pain

a/n: all i write is hurt/comfort, and I'm not even mad

Remus sat on the old leather couch, a book in his hand that just couldn’t seem to grasp his attention. His free fingers traced small circles on your legs, which you had ungracefully thrown over his own as you lounged together in the living room. It was still early, just coming up for noon, you both were aware of the time. Even if the knowledge was unspoken.

It was the full moon tonight, and despite the routine that you both had become familiar with, the boy couldn’t shake the nerves that coiled and twisted inside of him.

You pretended not to notice what he was doing, glancing at the door every couple of minutes, waiting for the inevitable knock. James and Sirius would arrive any moment now, take him away, far away for yet another transformation. You were used to it by now.

One thing that was always constant was that they had always been there for him, he appreciated that, but he hated leaving you. Especially when you gave him that soft, reassuring smile. Like everything would be fine. Like everything was fine.

“Rem,” you spoke softly, catching those big, brown eyes. His body was tense beneath you.

“I’m alright, dove,” he gave you a weak smile, his fingers stopping their patterns to give your calf a light squeeze. “Just… you know.”

And you did know. Painfully so.

You nodded, understanding him completely. You were about to speak more, but were interrupted by the shrill ring of the doorbell. He stiffened even more at the sound. Hand stilling.

He sighed and closed the book, setting it aside. His gaze moved to the hand on your leg, not wanting to move it, wanting to keep the inevitable away for just a second longer.

“It’s time,” he tells you quietly, like he does every month. His voice carried a sadness that he couldn’t hide completely.

You place your hand on top of his own, your smile gentle but knowing. “I’ll be right here. Waiting for you to get back, okay?”

He stood up, pulling you with him, tall body towering over your own. He let his hand linger on the small of your back as you both headed to the front door. When he opened it, James and Sirius stood waiting outside, both smiling softly as they knew what was to come. The car behind them was still running, headlights cutting through the fog, casting a warm glow behind them.

“Hey, mate,” James begins, smiling up at Remus. “You ready?”

Sirius leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest, his usual smirk missing from his face. “We’re ready when you are,” he said. His voice light in an attempt to ease your boyfriend’s nerves. “If you need a breather before we go, just say the word.”

Remus shook his head, he would rather just get this over and done with, no more stalling. You could feel the stress in his body increase as the hand on your waist held on a little tighter.

Sirius, sensing the clear tension that settled heavily in the air, finally cracked a smile. “Don’t worry,” he waved his hand in front of him. “You’ll be back here with your girl before you know it.” He said, winking in your direction.

James also turns his attention to you, giving you a mock salute, “He is in safe hands, don’t you fret.”

“And we won’t allow him to get too grumpy when we return him,” Sirius added, side-eyeing the man standing next to you. Remus runs a hand over his face at their teasing.

You rolled your eyes and gave them a half-glare, happy that they were trying to keep things light.

“I trust you both,” you say, tone teasing but nonetheless truthful. “Bring him back in one piece.”

James nods. “You have our word.”

Remus lets out a small, grateful smile before turning his attention back to you. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, allowing his hand to linger on your cheek for a moment. “I’ll be back tomorrow evening, darling. I promise,” he tells you, his gaze was intense. The act of leaving you now was painful.

You leaned forward and hugged him tightly, his own long arms wrapping around you immediately. Secure and firm, he never wanted to let go.

“I know you will,” you whispered into his chest, voice muffled by his worn jumper. “I’ll be here.”

Remus reluctantly loosened his embrace, kissing your forehead gently as he allowed himself to linger.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he murmured as he held your chin. Warm, tired eyes burrowing into your own. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you say quickly. He already knew that but—god—did it feel good to hear you say it back. He turned towards the car behind him, giving you a small wave before climbing in.

Remus settled into the back seat as the other two slid into the front. He watched you as the car sped away, trying to push down the knots his stomach was tying. Sirius leaned back, tossing him a lighthearted grin from the passenger seat.

“Come on, Moony,” Sirius said, trying to help him relax. “It’s just another moon. We have done this hundreds of times now.”

"Another moon, another miserable night,” Remus grumbled, no longer having the will to fake a smile. You weren’t there anymore.

James glanced back from the driver’s seat, a sympathetic look now in his eyes. “You’ll be alright, mate. Besides, from the way you’re moping, I’d say you’re just lovesick.”

“Definitely lovesick,” Sirius said, nodding his head in agreement.

Remus sighed, staring out the trees flying past the window. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I am. I’m damn lucky to be.”

James and Sirius exchanged a quick, knowing look, but didn’t tease him further. Remus just wanted to get through this—so he could go back to the one person who made everything else worth it.

Remus tried his hardest to be silent when he entered, opening the door gently to lessen the loud creak, his movements were slow and heavy as he stepped inside. It was late—much later than he intended to be—every inch of his tired body screamed in protest at the slightest movement. He winced as a sharp pain shot through his ribcage, having to reach out and steady himself against the wall, closing the door behind him.

It had been bad this time. Really bad. James and Sirius had confirmed it, as if the fresh wounds couldn’t tell him that already. Their concerned faces still clear in his memory.

The cuts on his body were deep—deeper than usual—one stretching across his chest, another on his arm, and a particularly nasty one that covered the side of his face. He had no recollection of how he acquired them, but they offered a fresh reminder of what he was. What he could become.

He trudged up the stairs, each step more painful than the last, eventually making his way to the bathroom. He avoided the mirror, the last thing he wanted to see was his reflection—the scars, the bandages, the tired eyes that always seemed more hollow after the events of a full moon. He quickly redressed the lacerations on his torso, delaying touching the one on his cheek.

He didn’t want to see what it looked like, but he had no choice. He needed to change it. He would just have to do it fast.

Glancing up quickly, he caught a brief glimpse of himself. He felt the air knocked out of his lungs. Immediately he looked away, biting down another wave of familiar self-loathing that flowed through him.

He hated this—hated how he looked, how his body was always going to be a physical reminder of how cursed he was. How much of a monster he was.

With shaky hands, he removed a bandage from its plastic casing, placing it on his face as swiftly as he could. He pulled out a loose set of pyjamas and quickly slipped them on his aching body, just wanting to crawl into bed and pretend the previous night never happened.

He opened the door to your shared bedroom and paused in the doorway, taking in the sight of your sleeping figure. You were lying peacefully on your side of the bed, the soft rise and fall of your chest, the sound of your breathing drew him closer to you.

He paused before he got in, just standing there for a moment, taking you in, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips for the first time in over twenty-four hours. He loved you. God, he loved you. The one thing in his life he would never get near his tribulation. The one thing that kept him going.

Carefully, he slipped in next to you, taking extra care not to rouse you. The ache in his arms flared up as he pulled back the heavy duvet, but he forced himself to ignore it. After all, what was a little discomfort when he could be close to you?

He shuffled closer, wincing at the pain that shot through his muscles, but it appeared to melt into the background as he felt your warmth permeate his skin.

For a moment, he was content just laying there next to you, watching you sleep. If you were awake you would probably call him a creep. He stifled a chuckle at the image that formed in his mind.

His heart ached—not from the wounds or exhaustion he had sustained, but from the overwhelming combination of emotions he felt for you. He hoped you were sleeping well, lord knows he wouldn’t be. Not with the soreness that was coursing through his drained body, but his own well-being didn’t concern him right now. What mattered was that he was here, with you.

With a soft sigh, he gently pulled your sleeping form closer to him, his arms trembling slightly with the strain. The throbbing in his chest flared up again, but he ignored it. Instead, he buried his face in your hair and let the steady sound of your breathing soothe him. He kissed the top of your head, whispering into the silent room.

“I’m home, love,” he murmured, voice almost inaudible as sleep began to pull him under. “Promised I would be.”

The first thing you felt when you stirred was a familiar warmth, strong arms wrapped around you, and for a brief moment, your heart swelled with relief. He was back. He always came back to you. But every time he managed to crawl back home you couldn’t help but worry if it would be worse than the last time. You shifted slightly, turning in his embrace in order to get a better look at him—that’s when you noticed.

The fresh bandages, hastily applied, peeked out from his long sleeve, another covering the side of his face. You ached for him at the sight of them. You pulled your arms from beneath the duvet, reaching out to touch the dressing. Your fingers hovered just above it, pausing mid-air as you stopped yourself. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt him more. You didn’t know what lay beneath them.

You wriggled out of his hold, taking additional time and care so as to not wake the man sleeping soundly next to you. He needed the rest. You were certain he would be in pain as soon as he rose, and as much as the idea of staying in his arms sounded heavenly, you decided to make yourself useful.

Padding quietly to the kitchen, odd socks on your feet, you grab two cups from the cupboard above your head. You had to go on your tiptoes to reach them. Usually, Remus would insist on getting them for you—he had once seen you clamber up onto the counter and it nearly gave him a heart attack—but he was preoccupied today.

The kettle bubbled softly as you pulled out the jar of tea, along with the packet of biscuits—chocolate, of course, his preferred choice. You prepared it in the way he taught you, letting it brew for a good couple of minutes before removing the teabag, pouring in a healthy glug of milk. You returned to the bedroom, steaming mugs in hand and the packet of biscuits under your arm.

The brunette began to stir at the soft crackle of plastic as you placed the treats on the bedside table, holding your own mug close to your chest as you sat on the floor beside the bed. You watched his eyes as they fluttered open.

“Hey,” you whispered, tilting your head to the side to look at him horizontally. “How are you feeling?”

He winced as he shifted over, his body still unbearably sore. His tired eyes met yours, and despite everything, he managed to give you a faint smile. It was hard not to when you looked at him like that.

“I’ve been better,” he replied, his voice husky with sleep.

You shook your head at his attempts to downplay his clear discomfort, trying to mask the worry in your eyes that was surely present.

“I made you tea,” you gesture to the cup next to you, pale wisps dancing around the top of it. He liked it hot, straight from the kettle. It amazed you how he could handle drinking it so fast. “And your favourite.”

“I’m a lucky man,” he said as he sat up, voice slightly strained as he finished his sentence. He reached out and dipped the biscuit in his mug, making a sound of relief as he popped it into his mouth, allowing the rich flavour to melt over his tongue.

He took a sip of his tea, sleeve rolling up slightly as he leant over, bandage visible. You didn’t want to mention how poorly they had been applied, you didn’t want to remind him. But it had to be done, for his sake.

“Rem,” you began gently, not wanting to upset him. “You need to change those.”

Immediately, he stiffened, his body pausing mid-sip. He loathed this part—being looked after and the vulnerability that came with it.

“Do I?” He muttered, voice lacking the spark it had when he woke up, clearly embarrassed at your statement.

You nodded solemnly, cringing at the discomfort in his eyes. “It might get infected,” you tell him. “You’re tired. Let me help you, please?”

He hesitated for a moment, an internal battle occurring in his head, before giving you one of his kind smiles. “Alright,” he responded, trying to keep the sadness from his voice. “Can I finish my tea first?”

You giggled, worry easing just a little. “Of course,” you say, nodding your head. “We’ll do it after.”

He placed his soon-empty cup on the side next to him, sighing heavily as he nodded to you. “Alright, love,” he said reluctantly. “I’m ready.”

You stand up slowly, reaching out to take his hesitant hand, leading him towards the bathroom. He traced your knuckles with his thumb as you both continued down the hallway. When you opened the door, he immediately hopped up on the counter silently. Ignoring the mirror and instead choosing to look down at his lap.

The first aid kit was under the sink, a pack that you always kept fully stocked. You quickly grabbed it before returning to your place in front of him, standing in between his spread legs. Your heart felt heavy at how exhausted he looked. How broken. But you refused to let him see that. He didn’t need to worry about you being worried about him. He had enough to deal with as it is.

“Can I take your jumper off?” You ask him softly, afraid of raising your voice. You needed to take care of him, and from the looks of it, he wanted to be as far away from this situation as possible.

His eyes left his lap and locked with yours. For a second, he looked as though he might say something, but instead, he just nodded. Words seemingly too hard to form right now.

You tried to keep your hands steady as you reached out, gently pulling the fabric over his head, keeping the material as far away from his body as you removed it. You folded up the material and placed it to the side, allowing him to get more comfortable with his bare skin showing before you gave him your attention again. But nothing could have prepared you for what you saw.

Bandages—there were so many of them, scattered haphazardly across his torso and arms. Each one was a significant reminder of what he had been through the previous night. You swallowed hard, putting on a brave face as you knew he was watching your every movement.

“You ready?” You asked, needing verbal confirmation as you knew this was going to hurt. Not just him, but yourself as well.

His lips twitched up into a half-smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” he quipped, trying to take the edge off, but the pain was clear in his low voice.

You peeled off the dressings, not earning a large reaction from the boy sitting in front of you. Most of them had become unstuck as he slept, making your job easier. You reached for the cloth and antiseptic, deciding to start with the easier gashes first. Your touch was diligent and gentle as you cleaned him, dabbing carefully at the blood and dirt that clung to his skin.

He must have been shattered last night to skip this. That fact made you even more determined to fix this. To fix him. You couldn’t offer much, but you would do whatever you thought would help. Every few minutes, you’d glance up, wordlessly checking on him. Waiting for the swift bob of his head as he urges you to keep going.

“Am I hurting you?” You knew the answer already, but you needed to know how much.

“Only a little,” he lied, a faint smirk appearing on his face. “I’ve been though worse, dove.”

You roll your eyes at his ill attempt of humour, but at least he was able to crack a joke. That was a good sign.

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” you murmered as you pressed down on a particularly nasty cut, earning a small hiss from him. You hurried up when you heard the noise, not wanting to be the one behind his torture.

Finally, you turned your attention to the injury on his face, the angry red line that ran from his collarbone all the way up to his cheek. The sight of it yanked at your heartstrings and you knew you failed to mask your reaction, his body stiffened. Eyes darting away from yours as he attempted to look away. You caught his chin before he could withdraw into himself, forcing him to look at you.

Big, doe eyes filled with guilt, shame even, and it devastated you. He cleared his throat with a sharp cough, his voice gravely. “You shouldn’t have to do this,” he muttered, gaze dropping again despite the grip on his chin. “You shouldn’t—have to take care of me like this.”

You removed your hold on him, allowing both of your hands to continue working, dabbing gently as his mouth curled at the stinging sensation. “Remus,” you whispered, your voice filled with compassion. “I want to take care of you. I love taking care of you.”

He shook his head slightly, the conversation paining him more than your actions. “You’re too good to me,” he tells you, his voice monotone as if he was just speaking a fact. “Look at me, darling. I’m—I’m a mess.”

You smiled at the angelic boy in front of you and placed a kiss on his cheekbone, just above the cut. He really couldn’t see what you saw. What his friends saw in him. How he treated you all. He was the most selfless person you had ever met, going above and beyond for each and every person he cared for.

It wasn’t a skill that could be taught. It was innate. It was Remus. Always had been.

“You’re not a mess,” you say firmly. “You are mine. I love you—every scar, every mark, every part of you.”

You saw his throat bob as he swallowed, his eyes slightly glassy as he stared at you. He always struggled to allow people to give him affection, not believing he deserved it. He didn’t know where to put all the love you gave him. He always felt unworthy of it.

But in that moment, just the two of you in the cramped bathroom, illuminated by the small ceiling bulb. It felt right. Your fingers brushing over his scars, some fresher, some older, he thought maybe…just maybe. It would all be alright.

You finish the last dressing, smoothing it over his skin with the same tenderness you treated all the others. “All done,” you tell him, feeling proud of your handiwork.

Remus lets out a relieved chuckle at your pride. “I’d say you’ve missed your calling, love. Should’ve been a nurse.”

“Oh yeah?” You laugh, feeling the tension leave the room. “Maybe I’ll change careers.”

“I take it back,” he says quickly, eyes softening with affection. “I want you all to myself. I’m selfish.”

“Well, you’re in luck. I have the whole of today off,” you say, throwing the used bandages and their wrappers into the bin by the door. “We can do whatever you want.”

He raised an eyebrow, your words tempting him. “Anything?”

“Yep, anything at all,” you nod at him. “Within your...physical capabilities,” you quickly add. There is no way that would be happening in his condition.

“Well you’re no fun,” Remus frowns playfully, mischief still swimming in his eyes. “But I’m sure I can come up with something riveting for the both of us.”

You put your hands on your hips, assuming a determined stance. “I’m ready for whatever you’ve got in mind.”

He hums, pleased with your statement, lowering himself down from the counter and pulling his jumper back on. Grimacing as it brushes his skin. He motions for you to follow him into the living room, watching as he winces as he sits down on the couch, his face briefly tightening in pain. But then, true to form, he opens his wide arms and looks at you expectantly. “Come on then.”

You go to take a step forward but hesitate. You would love nothing more than to drape yourself over him, but the sight of his bandages stops you. “I don’t want to hurt you…”

A look of warmth crossed his face, shaking his head with a tender smile. “It’ll hurt more if you don’t let me hold you, darling. Come on.”

You can’t help but melt at his kind words, you gently ease yourself onto the couch, mindful of his injuries and not putting your full weight on him. His arms encase you instantly, pulling you impossibly closer despite the clear discomfort it caused him.

“You’re stubborn, you know that?” You scold him, your cheek resting on his chest, mindful of the dressing on the opposite side.

“Stubborn? No.” He quips, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Hopelessly in love? Maybe.”

You giggle, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath you in a steady rhythm. “A bit of both, I think.”

It’s his turn now to chuckle, his tired bones relaxing further into the soft cushions. “You might be right.”

You both just lie there in a comfortable silence, the sound of the world beginning to wake up outside only added to the ambience. He was at peace with you In his embrace, glancing down at you as you gazed at him softly. Fingers tracing gentle circles on an unharmed piece of his chest.

“So…” you begin, continuing your motions. “Any grand ideas for today?”

He shakes his head, stopping to meet your eyes, lips curling into a lazy smile. “Honestly? Just this. Just you.” His voice is playful but his words have never been more true. “Don’t need anything else.”

“Smooth,” you say sarcastically, suppressing a smirk of your own.

“I’m serious, love,” he chuckles. “I can’t think of a better way to spend today.”

Your heart soared at his words, you carefully shifted to cup his face. “I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

He pushes himself further into your palm, eyes closing for the briefest of moments, his hand coming up to cover your own. “Have I mentioned that you’re too good for me?” He tries to make it sound like a joke, but the familiar self-doubt can still be heard in his voice.

“Unfortunately, far too much,” you playfully glare. “You stubborn man.”

He reopens his eyes, now filled with an overwhelming amount of affection. It almost takes your breath away.

“Then I’m sure you’ve heard me say how lucky I am as well,” he teases, his expression never faltering.

“I’m the lucky one,” you grin cheekily, brushing back a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “My boyfriend makes an excellent cup of tea.”

“Is that all I’m here for?” He asks in mock offence, pulling you flush against him, despite the twinge of pain it caused. “Keeping me around for my tea-making skills?”

“Exactly,” you nestle your head against him.

At that moment, everything felt right to him. Just the two of you, safe, together. Nothing else mattered to him apart from the girl in his arms. He knows the pain will linger—the scars, the transformations, all of it. But with you—his anchor—it feels just about bearable. And for the first time in a long time. He allows himself to feel hope. The hope of your future together.

#remus #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin headcanon #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin angst #remus lupin fluff #harry potter #harry potter x reader #marauders x reader #marauders fluff

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emmyrosee · 1 year ago

Text

You’ve been… needy, today.

Normally, Kiyoomi is immune to it, if anything, he embraces your clingiest of affections and he takes them with ease, but today, for some reason, you’re nuzzling and nudging at him with every little thing, your eyes curved into a sad pout every time he looks down at you.

It seems like you’re insatiable, you’re on a craving for a fix you can’t seem to get, and he’s fairly certain you’ve almost cried at him a few times for that little bit of affection you can’t seem to get enough of, and normally Kiyoomi can read you like a novel, front to back.

Today, it’s almost like you’re a different person- no longer able to voice their needs, but plead for him to figure it out. Someone who doesn't seem to trust him, but still eggs for assurance and validation.

And he doesn't know why, but he can't pinpoint it this time.

He's exhausted every avenue, he's does everything he can think of, every question he could ask has either given him no answer or another needy little choke in your answer. He doesn't know, okay, he's trying, but he doesn't want to just ask you point blank because there's a part of him that feels like he should know.

There's also a glimmer in your eyes that tells him that he should figure it out.

Finally, for whatever reason, you stop.

Now, you're creating distance, and he hates this even more than you trying to crawl into his skin.

At least then, you still wanted him.

"I'm going to shower."

Your voice cuts him out of his detecting, snapping him from his thoughts as he nods encouraging at you. If he didn't feel like it would end in a fight, he'd cheesily ask if you wanted him to join you, but the question dies when you spin on your heel to leave him in the bedroom, alone.

He needs to know. He has to figure it out.

There's a buzzing of his phone that snaps him out of his pity party, and enthusiastic text from Hinata about the new jersey designs. Something about how they need sizing and promo pictures, and they should all get together to plan.

At this point, Hinata couldv'e texted him about anything on the planet and he would've gone. In his head, he weighs his options of staying here and leaving the jersey talk for tomorrow.

Or leaving, and letting you both have some time apart to sort out your feelings.

He's barely able to think on it before his feet force him to get up and make his way to the bathroom, popping open the door to call to you.

He just hopes this works.

"Baby, I'll be back!" He calls, voice above the rushing water.

"Wait- what?" You call back.

"Hinata needs to steal me for a while to talk about our new jerseys, I should be back in a few hours."

"Kiyoomi-"

"I love you!" He says, interrupting you before closing the door and making his way out of the house. He hopes that some distance may calm whatever it is inside of you,

By the time he comes home, he's surprised to see the lights turned on.

Typically Kiyoomi can come home at any hour and find you in bed, asleep, clinging to his pillow, but tonight, it seems you either forgot to shut everything down, or you're still awake.

Maybe if you're awake, you'll be able to sort out whatever happened today before going to bed.

When he walks in, the house is quiet. Scarily quiet.

"Nice of you to show up."

Yeah. You're up. And you sound bored.

The house is still active, but rather than make a dash for him to leap into his arms for affection, you're instead on the couch, eyes heavy and face sad.

After a whole day of trying to cling to him and his every move, now you're willing to be sedate?

He sighs and walks to meet you in the living room, and whatever angry look you try to pull gets demolished by the wobbling of your lip. “What’re you still doing awake?”

You turn to look up at him sadly, tears swollen in your waterline as you blink at him expectantly. “I missed you.”

He smiles at your words before shrugging off his jacket and folding it over in his arms, “I missed you too, baby. How was your night?”

“Quiet.” Your lips twitch as if you want to say more, but no other words fall from your lips. He gives you a small chuckle and scratched the back of his head.

“That’s… exciting,” he offers. You shrug. The tenseness in the room makes him want to throw up, he’s not used to this coldness from you- typically, you’re throwing yourself at him, especially with how you were acting earlier, but now you seem like you couldn’t care less about him. "Did you do anything?"

"Nope."

"Oh..."

"Where did you go?"

He shrugs, "Hinata and Bokuto wanted to talk about the new jerseys and the plan for practice tomorrow; then we got dinner and had some drinks."

"And you didn't think to text me? Not once?"

Chills run up his spine as your question comes with an emotioned voice crack, "I... I guess it slipped my mind... I'm sorry."

"Mm."

He swallows thickly, but his pounding head desperately wants to call it a night. “Why don’t we go to bed, baby?”

“You go ahead, im gonna get some water.”

He smiles and nods as he makes haste to the bedroom, happy facade dropping once his back is towards you. All he wants right now is to curl up next to you and knock the rest if the day away, praying that you're in a similar headspace.

He all but tears off the clothes on his back, dressing into far more comfortable wear as he goes to wash his face. Usually, you're right next to him, butting your head against him, nudging him to the side so you can join him, or youre sitting on the closed toilet seat just to watch him.

You seemingly have no interest in doing that tonight.

By the time Kiyoomi's done, his stomach churns as you're still not in bed, surely it hasn't taken you more than two minutes to get some water, and with an exhausted, and almost annoyed groan, he shuffles back down the hall to see you.

You... you haven't moved.

“Hey,” he mumbles, rubbing his eye. “How come you’re out here? I thought we were going to bed?”

“You didn’t kiss me today.”

He didn’t?

“What do you mean?” He asks, stalking over to the couch. You shuffle over to make room for him, but your eyes never meet his. “I kissed you so many times today, baby.”

“No,” you snip. “You didn’t. I know, because I’m so used to you giving me kisses.”

“I’m... I'm sorry, I guess I just-“

“And you barely hugged me, either,” you sniffle. His brows furrow and instinctively, he tosses an arm around your shoulder to try and calm you down. “Any time I’d reach for you, you’d look at me like I was some nuisance, and make me feel bad for needing the affection.”

“Of course you’re not a nuisance!” He says, rocking you both. “God, fuck baby, I’m sorry, I thought you just needed some more attention than usual and I just-“

“I’m not done.”

A wave of nervousness shudders down his spine, but he pulls back slightly to give you your room to piece together your thoughts. Had he really been that neglectful today?

“You didn’t even eat dinner with me; you went out with the boys. I was in the shower, I didn’t even get a kiss goodbye- you called out a quick ‘love you!’ and went off doing whatever it was you did tonight. You didn’t call, and you didn’t text, and I was home alone, thinking that I did something wrong.”

"No wonder you’re upset- I’m sorry, baby. Whatever I did today wasn’t a reflection of how much I love you; I just got a little busy, and I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’ll do better tomorrow.”

You completely deflate. God, what has he done?

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he says sweetly, planting a kiss to your temple. “I never, ever wanted to hurt your feelings, and I’m sorry I did.”

You’re quiet. There’s a strange feeling of dread in the air. The longer you pause, the more he feels the anxiety settling in the pit of his soul.

"You really don't know why I'm mad...?"

He chokes on his own breath, "I... I didn't know you were mad..."

You hiccup in sadness, and he feels like he can't breathe.

The clock on the tv changes to 23:59, and you sigh sadly.

“Happy anniversary.”

You stand up without a word, letting Kiyoomi’s head fall forward along with his jaw. He looks at you in absolute terror, all while you face away from him, hugging yourself in an attempt to comfort yourself.

Oh, God.

The room is shrouded in suffocating silence, smothering anything Kiyoomi could say before he could even think of the words. Dark eyes dart over your frame. He feels sick, he could throw up on this rug right now, if he had anything to even puke up. Your shoulders heave, and he’d rather chew on broken glass covered alcohol before ever wanting him and his neglect to be the reason for your distress.

“I forgot,” he blurts.

No shit.

“I know you did.”

“How… could I forget?”

“You tell me.”

“I-I-I-I set so many reminders, how did I…”

“It doesn’t matter,” you snip, turning on your heel to stalk back down the hallway to your bedroom. “You forgot. And the day is over. It doesn’t matter.”

It does, he wants to argue. It matters, because you matter to him, and he abandoned you on a night that is so sacred to him, the day you crashed into his life and made him realize that whatever he was doing that put you on the road to him, was exactly where he wants to be.

He looks down at the clock on his iPhone, as it creeps over the 45 second mark, and he darts down the hallway. He runs like he’s being chased, like he’s on fire, and you can’t hide your noise of surprise when he bursts into your bedroom and tosses gangly arms around you and plants kisses all over your face.

He holds you so tight you could pop, and he sponges all the kisses he can over your neck and cheeks, and he hears you trying to fight back a giggle, and it only eggs him on to continue.

“I love you,” he pants. “I love you, I love you so much, every day I’m grateful for whatever being is watching us for putting me on the road to you. I don’t know who I worshipped right to be here, but I’ll be damned if I let my own stupidity sabotage that.”

“Kiyoomi,” you say, voice delicate and trying to stop itself from breaking. “You forgot. I just wanted... I wanted you to show up. You couldn't even give me that."

Now it's his turn for his lip to wobble.

You sniff sharply, "just forget about everything, I don’t care anymore.”

“But I care-“

“Clearly, you don’t,” you snap, trying to squeeze out of his grip. “I don’t have the energy for this right now. Let’s just go to bed.

“I’m not about to let this go.”

“Neither am I, but my demons need to rest.” Your eyes dart at his alarm clock, “yours too, apparently. Tomorrow you’re getting sized for jerseys- hopefully you didn’t forget that other important thing.”

Your words sting him sharply, even if he deserves every single one of them. He reels back slightly, gnawing at his lip as he tries to think of ways to fix this, fix the way you’re looking at him and feeling, fix the clear hole he’s singed into your heart.

You curl up into your side of the bed, pulling the blankets high, and he doesn’t know how long he does it, but he just stares at you. It’s like he’s waiting for you to scream at him, or cry, or do something that he should feel even more shitty for.

But it doesn’t happen.

You sniffle a few times, shuffle once or twice, and he doesn’t know just how long he’s been standing there until your breathing turns rhythmic and peaceful for the first time today. Your shoulders rise and fall, back facing away from him and god, he feels like such a loser about to lose the greatest thing that's ever happened to him.

Probably because he is.

You're going to leave him. You're going to see just how much he takes you for granted, how much more you're worthy of and how much more love anyone can give you- even if you still wanted to stay in the jackals, and he wouldn't blame you for shifting your love to someone like Hinata or Meian for a second.

A cold breeze smacks Kiyoomi in the face as, at some point in his spiraling, he ends up outside, keys jingling in hands and hoodie pulled messily on top of his head. His legs seem to know where he's going, even if he doesnt.

His legs take him everywhere that could possibly be open right now, there's no store with a three mile radius that he hasn't bought out between candy, chocolates, a few stuffed bears you'll adore, and three or four types of pizzas and sushi dishes each.

He doesn't care about the strange looks the cashiers and other patrons give him. He cares about trying to remember if you prefer sour or normal gummy bears. He cares about remembering if you like plain pizza or toppings.

He also cares about the way this pillow won't sit the hell up.

He cares immensely about the way the chairs from the island in the kitchen have no grip to them, and refuse to keep the blankets strewn across them up.

And fuck the knitted blanket draped over the lamp and top of the couch, because it refuses to stay the hell up and he's had to make at least four mad dashes to catch the falling object.

The fifth, naturally, crashes to the floor, and he can only sigh in defeat as he continues to fix the fort for the nth time.

"I'm armed," your voice yells from down the hall.

He chuckles, "no you're not."

You groan in annoyance before padding down the hall, and he turns his head to acknowledge your exhausted arrival.

“What’re you doing, Kiyoomi?” You ask, knuckling your eye. “It’s one in the morning.”

“It’s 12:23 pm on the east coast in America.”

You cock a brow, and he blinks simply before turning back to his blanket fort. He feels your eyes boring into his skull, but he ignores it. He’s busy.

“Uhm… thank you for the fun fact?”

“It’s 1:23 yesterday.”

“…and?”

“Komori is on the east coast,” he says easily, tongue poking out in focus. “Somewhere, I don’t really know where, I don’t know American geography. Which basically means a part of me is on the United States east coast. So, by the transitive property-“ he stands up and presents the messily made fort. “We still get to celebrate our anniversary.”

You smile sadly at his efforts but your bottom lip wobbles all the same, “kiyoomi, you forgot. Just drop it, okay?”

“No.”

“Kiyoomi, I’m tired-“

“I bought us some pizza,” he interrupts, lifting the reusable bags positively stuffed to the brim with other treats. “And i got those sour candies you like for some reason, but I picked aside all the ones you hate so you can just eat them in confidence-“

Your eyes glimmer in slight excitement.

“And-And-And I’ve got our favorite movies queued up, ready to go, but there’s a new playlist filled with love songs that I found-“

“Kiyoomi-“

“And god we haven’t danced around in months, do you remember the last time we danced? It was like… well, months.”

You giggle, and he brightens at the sound. He takes a soft sigh to calm down, “and I just… I know how bad I am at showing it.” He stands up and makes his way towards you, and when he cups your cheek in his hand and you mewl at him, he could cry from that alone. “But you are the only thing that matters. My only exception to any rule I could make. And I couldn’t give you the bare minimum, on the second most important day to do it.”

“Second?”

“If I forget your birthday, I need you to leave me,” he chuckles nervously. You slowly walk up to him as if timid and unsure, and when he opens an arm to ease you into a hug, he lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding as he squeezes you close. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

“I know,” you assure. There’s a comforting silence between you both, your cheek nuzzled into the dip of his sternum before you hum.

“Can I go with you to size jerseys tomorrow?”

“I’m not going to get my jersey sized tomorrow,” he says without missing a beat. You tense up in his arms, and before you can protest, he shushes you and cups the back of your head to keep you close. “They will live for one day without me. It takes four minutes tops. They will get over it.”

“But-“

“No buts,” he says, pulling back and looking down at you.

“But-“

“No.” He leans down to capture your lips in a kiss to shut you up, soft and familiar but just enough to keep you calm for him. You purr into the kiss and let your hands wander around his torso, fingers fisting the fabric of his night shirt tightly.

The fingers on your head gently fists the hair at the nape of your neck to keep you grounded for him, and the whimper you pant against him has him in euphoria.

“Thank you,” you sigh against his teeth. He shakes his head before pulling back slightly.

“Don’t thank me… not when I made you feel anything less than the love of my life.”

You chuckle and gently tug the waistband of his sweats. “I know you’re trying to make up for it, now.”

“You do?”

“How many men are gonna stay up, figure out the time zones in America and pick sour grape from my bag of candy just to try and fix a forgotten anniversary?”

He laughs and pulls you in for another hug, one tight and secure and as close as he can get you to snap any broken pieces together.

“I really am trying… I promise.”

“I know you are.”

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daenysx · 2 months ago

Note

hi bby, could i request jealous modern!aemond?😊

i tried my best but i feel like everything was better in my head, i hope i managed to get things right with the words <333 thanks for requesting

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

-aemond needs to get you back.

cw; kinda like exes to lovers, jealous!aemond, aemond being an idiot and he's sorry for that, criston cole in his own warning, reader's shorter than aemond, mentions of alcohol, kissing, aemond being desperate to get you back, also he's a sad fool and he accepts that, suggestive towards the end but nothing descriptive, title is a hozier lyric

wc; 2k

i'll crawl home to her

aemond likes to think he's good at controlling his emotions. at least he can keep his face neutral, he doesn't let people know what he thinks.

that turns out to be a lie, though, the moment he sees a guy behind the bar stool you sit.

he relaxes his fists. you're not his girlfriend. he has no right to feel jealous over your affections. who's that guy, anyway? how can he be bold enough to talk to you like this, leaning to the bar with his arm almost wrapped around you? aemond hates the idea of someone being braver than him. he fucking despises the idea of you giving a smile to that- that asshole.

"you okay?" cole asks, his glass almost empty in his hand. he follows aemond's gaze and, boom. just like he guessed.

"of course, i'm okay." aemond replies, coolly. there's no logical reason behind his real emotions.

"if you keep staring like that, she will notice."

aemond turns to him sharply. his gaze is burning, almost feels like crying or something worse than that. "i'm not staring."

"if you say so." cole shrugs. he's got worse problems than dealing with aemond's jealousy to be honest. he knows aemond will never admit what's happening in truth.

"do you- do you know who that is?" aemond asks, not that he thinks cole can actually know a random guy at the bar. he tries to fill the stupid silence between them, change the subject after that, storm out when he finishes his drink. he despises the pathetic situation he unwillingly put himself into.

"do i know the guy who's flirting with your ex-girlfriend?" cole pretends to think. "um- no, i don't actually."

the mention of you burns his chest. it's because of the whisky, he tells himself. keep your cool, keep your cool. don't let them know anything.

"it doesn't matter, anyway." he says, feeling like a desperate fool.

"no, it doesn't." cole agrees. aemond can sense his mocking, his tendency to talk boldly tonight. cole isn't like that usually. "because you are not together anymore."

"we're not."

"because you let her go." cole continues, takes a sip from his glass. "it was quite stupid of you if you ask me."

"i didn't ask you, cole."

"no, no, but just- what were you thinking when you decided to break things off with her, hmm? what was the motivation behind it?"

"you're going too far."

"i'm not." cole says. "you just can't face with your own decisions."

"fuck off." aemond stands up, getting his jacket. "you don't even know what you're talking about. didn't ask your damn opinion about my love life, did i?"

"just admit you failed, aemond. lost the one good thing about you." cole speaks calmly after him. "you'd do all of us a great favor."

aemond walks away. there's no need for drunken arguments tonight, he's certainly not in the mood for discussing his past decisions. he can't help a brief look on your seat, though. you're not there. he didn't see you leaving, he can't see your jacket or that sparkly purse you love so much. the guy stays where he is, chatting with his friends. where are you?

"oh!" someone shorter than him almost collapses with his chest. "aemond?"

aemond wishes you to not look so pretty with that smudged eye make up and- his fucking favorite color on your lips. what kind of strength should he have to not kiss you against the wall when you're looking at him through those glossy eyes? he takes a step back, an apology ready on his lips.

you beat him through it. "sorry." you say, blinking your pretty eyes. "didn't see you there."

"no, it's okay." he collects himself before doing something stupid. "i was walking too fast."

you nod, your purse in your hand and your jacket thrown on your shoulders. you don't look drunk, maybe just tipsy. turning your back to him, you keep walking your way, out of the club. running into your ex-boyfriend shouldn't stop you from going home.

aemond thinks of the guy back there. you're not together with him, are you? he's not with you right now, he doesn't call a cab, and you don't look like you're waiting for anyone. that must be a relief. it doesn't feel like it, though. aemond is certain anyone who sees you would fall for your charms, that guy was no exception. all the hypothetical men get into his head. fuck them all.

"are you alone?" he asks you, foolishly. you nod. no words for him. why would you bother?

"i can- my car is over there if you-"

"i don't want anything from you, aemond."

okay. he deserves this. he knows he deserves this.

"it's late." he says. "i know you don't want anything to do with me, but i can at least-"

"i said no." you cut him. "you don't have to pretend to care."

you start walking in the cool breeze of night air. it feels nice on your face. aemond follows you like he's lost, like he doesn't know where to go without you. "can we talk?" he asks, his voice is softer than the last time you talked. "please?"

"there's nothing to talk about." you tell him, looking at him briefly.

"i made a mistake." he says like he's pleading. the alcohol gets him, his lips move on their own. he keeps telling himself he won't regret anything he tells you right now. he's not drunk, that means they are all real. "i made many mistakes. letting you go was the worst of them."

"that sounds like an interesting story." you say, sarcastically. "would you like to continue? i'm sure people on the street will enjoy your freak show."

he has no explanation for this but your attitude turns him on.

"i saw you with that guy." he says.

"you really should stop talking now." you say. "you're being pathetic."

"no, i-" he can get on his knees and beg. he's cursing his past self, cursing his stupid decisions. "please."

"please, what?" you get angrier each second. this is not a game you'll be playing with him. "do you realize how stupid you sound?"

"of course i do." he answers with a slight pout. "i just need you to see- to understand how terrible it makes me feel, to- to see you with another guy and not being able to do anything about it-"

"no need to be so selfish." you say, calmly. "i'm not your anything. you cannot react like this every time we run into each other by chance."

"i regret it." his legs can give up any second now. he begs for something divine to help him out of his misery. "i regret everything i did. i never should have let you go."

your heartbeat gets quicker with anger and adrenaline. the fact that you're still hopelessly in love with him does nothing to calm your nerves. he doesn't deserve your love. you will not accept anything he says until he proves he's worthy. you try to control your breath, stop your hands from shaking. he has no right to do this, you remind yourself.

"it's too late." you say. "you don't deserve to get everything back after you let them go like the way you did."

he looks at you so sweetly, you have to swallow and look away. he's fond of that attitude of yours, how you put yourself first after he hurt you, and his chest tightens with the loss of you there but he can't help a wave of affection towards your frowny face and your crossed arms. there's his girl, you're still there, still present with your anger and precise words. he would to anything to get you back.

"i know." aemond agrees, slowly. "i promise, i know- and you're right, whatever you decide to do, you're right."

"are you trying to fix us just because you saw me with another guy?" you ask, eyebrows furrowed.

"no, of course not. not only because of that." he says quickly. "i wanted you back since the first time you walked out. i just didn't have enough courage to talk to you."

"so you're admitting you were being stupid and acting like coward?" you challenge him with two things he hates the thought of being the most.

"it was stupid of me to break up with you." he says slowly. he's gonna have to be a big boy for this. "i was only trying to protect you from my family and- and myself, but i acted cowardly."

"i can protect myself." you say. "i don't need you to decide for me."

"i know that, sweetheart." he smiles. it's a tiny move on his lips, he's always so fond of your independent nature. "i apologise for not speaking things clearly."

it's your turn to smile. you take a step towards him, he stays still. the top buttons of his shirt expose his neck nicely, the chain you got him hanging there. he never let you go. he was only being an idiot. you think you want him back. he can fix his own idiocity by himself, but you want him back.

"what do you want?" you ask with a kind voice like you're teasing. you're not teasing, not in the least but he doesn't know that, does he?

"i want you to be my girlfriend again." he says, straightening his posture. his shoulders are high, his neck long. he feels like a dragon ready to fight for you. "if you'll have me."

you push him softly against the wall behind him and cup his cheeks. he accepts the kiss greedily, changing positions so that your back is against the wall. he makes a rightful mess of your lipstick, his hands on your waist and on the back of your neck. you close your eyes. his scent hits your senses so well, your hand goes to his shoulder to pull him closer.

you break the kiss. "you cannot do the same thing again, okay? you cannot leave me and come back, you cannot think for my place and make my decisions when it comes to you and our relationship."

"okay." he says, his eye closed and his lips following your mouth. "i promise."

"good." you say, pull him for another kiss. it's only been two weeks but you missed him. he feels safe like this, and familiar with his body pressed against yours against the wall of a club. the darkness of the night covers you, your sparkly purse is the only thing that can be seen from a distance.

aemond kisses you like he's been out of breath for so long. he's been a desperate fool for days but now it's over. everything gets clear when he gets you like this, his mind free of worry and anger, all those devilish thoughts that bother him. he's content with his place, he doesn't have to pretend he's okay. it's all real.

"by the way-" you start saying between two lovely kisses. "that guy back there already has a lover named charles. you didn't have to worry about him anyway."

aemond laughs and it's a real laugh, not one of the fake ones he has to throw into aegon's or cole's face. you smile and he kisses your cheek. you hold his hand, he squeezes your fingers.

"i like your dress." he changes the subject, leading you to his car. "is that new?"

"of course it is." you answer, cheekily. "my boyfriend decided to be a jerk for no reason and i had to keep myself busy with something."

aemond had no idea the night could turn into something amazing when he first agreed to come here with cole. he can't keep his hands off you, kisses you against the car this time. he's gotta find a way to make up for the time he made you lost. kissing you and getting you your favorite drink on the way home might be a good start.

he gives you a silent promise to atone his sins between your legs in the following hours.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #modern!aemond #aemond x you #aemond x reader #hotd #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fanfic #modern!aemond targaryen #modern!aemond targaryen x reader

476 notes · View notes

goldustwomun · 7 months ago

Text

bags (s.h.)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: you'd loved steve since you were fifteen, followed him wherever he went. so when you were finally over him, stumbling home with another man clinging to your side, why was he waiting by your doorstep?

warnings: (unedited) angst angst angst, best friend robin and nancy but also lovers <3 robin and nancy <3, swearing, drinking, clubbing/partying, self-deprecating thoughts and a stubborn reader, steve is kind of an asshole despair and dread lol, this went a route i hadn't expected but i'm feeling achey and sad tonight so :) enjoy :) and don't hate me!

wc: 2.2k+

note: i hope this isn't entirely ass lol i just want steve harrington to break my heart but like i cant put my ideas into words and its SO FRUSTRATING but whatever :’)

Can you see me? I'm waiting for the right time I can't read you, but if you want, the pleasure's all mine Can you see me using everything to hold back? I guess this could be worse Walkin' out the door with your bags

You should’ve known it’d end up this way. His back, coloured shades of blue and purple as dusk kissed at his skin, retreating into the distance and down the very road you’d just stumbled up only moments earlier. Maybe if you had listened a little closer, noticed a little more, the way he grabbed at your waist, squeezed your palms, held you close, you could’ve avoided it all. The shock and heartbreak and unbearable yearning only to turn up empty and desolate all over again.

Because you loved Steve Harrington, in more ways than he would ever know, but it had taken days, months, years, even, to get over that initial infatuation and belly flutter you’d been plagued with as teenagers. He was King Steve and you but a peasant, a shadow, one of many, that flocked to his side when he waved or smiled or tripped you up.

You loved Steve Harrington, but you hated him for waiting so long to work up the courage to just say it. I love you; I’ve always loved you, you wanted to say, but the words refused to pass the seal of your lips and instead you were left gaping at an empty spot on the ground, a Steve-shaped hole in your heart.

It’d been days since you’d seen him last, mourning his absence but refusing to sit around like you might’ve done if you were still seventeen. But no, you weren’t seventeen, you were a twenty-something independent that went out and did things and met people and kissed them if you wanted, maybe even take them home to your one-bedroom that would be otherwise empty without Steve plastered to your sofa, a hand stuffed into the popcorn you kept around because he once said he didn’t entirely hate it.

And that’s what you had done, convinced Nancy and Robin to leave the haze of their never-ending honeymoon phase to take you dancing. The drinks hadn’t stopped coming. Every time you gulped down a shot, another would be shoved into your hand before you’d had time to comprehend the reality of what you were going to do. To sleep with a stranger in the same space you’d watched Rocky with Steve only days earlier. You’d called and asked and begged him to come over, to join you, Nancy and Robin, but he’d bit at you in that way he sometimes did. The harsh edges of his teenage-self making itself known in ways you’d have liked to forget.

“Stop it, babes. I know what you’re doing,” Robin scolded, frowning at the dip between your brows and the lost look in your eyes. You forced a smile then, and she scoffed at the minimal effort you put into hiding your feelings, always having excelled at letting them take over your features even when you didn’t mean them to. Of course, every knew, everyone could see it in the way you trailed after him, like a lost puppy begging for an ounce of attention. Steve was cruel with the crumbs he handed you, but he didn’t know any better.

Everyone knew and everyone could see but Steve had always stood out, the most handsome, the most fit, the most clueless. And maybe that’s why you were perfect for each other because you hadn’t known either, had you.

“Come on, up you get!” Robin urged, pulling you from your chair with Nancy already clinging to her side, shuffling the three of you with what little sobriety she had left in her to the dance floor, pulsing lights and thrumming bodies none-the-wiser to the way you heart was cracking open.

So, you jumped and danced and bounced to the beat in ways you didn’t know you were capable of. Free and without regret and it wasn’t until someone was staring at you from across the room, watching your every moment with a fascination you’d never been subject to, that you stopped, pressing past Nancy and Robin with a tip of your head that assured them you’d be back.

He, whoever he was, surged into action, coming behind you at the bar where you were busy asking for a glass of water. You turned and smiled, stomach dipping, because he was attractive and strong, and he had these kind eyes and soft lips that looked like they’d be otherworldly against your skin. He introduced himself but the music obscured his words, so you nodded and pretended and wondered why you were dreading this conversation when it had only just begun.

He pulled you into a somewhat quieter corner after you’d gestured it was alright, and really, he seemed as surprised as you were when you all but pounced, mouth meeting his, open and desperate. He hadn’t complained, had probably seen it coming in the quiet desperation of your eyes. Of course, he didn’t know it was because of the way you wished it was someone else kissing you into the wall and not some all-consuming lust you were fueled by.

The next thing you knew you were huddled into the backseat of a cab, then stumbling across the gravel to your front door.

And that’s when you saw him. Sat on the bottom step of your apartment’s front door, gaze focused on the way whatever-his-name-was smirked into your neck, having probably thought you had stopped for a smooch and not because the man you had loved, unrequited, for close to a decade was staring at you like you’d stabbed him right in the chest, and twisted.

“Steve?” you whispered, loud enough to prompt Harrington off the step and marching across the short distance to you. “What are you—” but you never had a chance to ask him before he was swinging a left hook right into the guy’s jaw.

“Steve!” and you were shouting now, pushed to side as the stranger retaliated out of instinct, socking him in the nose. Steve looked like he was grinning, blood dripping into his mouth, like he was enjoying the feel of getting the shit beat out of him. “Stop it! Steve! I said—” you yanked him back, shoving him behind you as you rushed forward to-- fuck. You still don’t know his name.

“I’m sorry— Jesus Christ—” you swore when you noticed how his eye was already bruising as he shook you off. “I don’t know why he did that. I—I’m—"

His words were bitter when he responded, shooting daggers at the looming figure you were keenly aware was still behind you before meeting your pleading eyes. “It’s fine. It’s fine,” he assured you, squeezing your hip as he moved past you to leave. “You should talk to your boyfriend, you know, before you bring anyone else over.”

“I’m not—He’s not—” but he was gone, and you were still reeling from what had just happened, what Steve had just done. You turned, anger coursing through you so violently your hands were shaking. “Fucking hell—Steve! What the fuck are you doing here? And what the fuck was that?!”

“Were you going to fuck him?” he asked plainly, bluntly, shirt pulled to his face as he tried to stop the bleeding. There was still that wild look in his eyes, a flush to his skin, like he too was dazed and confused.

“What—I--- how is that any of your fucking business?” you answered back, shoving a finger against his chest. He was immovable though, only grabbed at your hand and held it until your palm was flat against the front of him. You could feel, now, the reckless thrum of his heartbeat, and you asked yourself how you’d gotten here in the first place, pushed up against a bloodied and bruised Steve Harrington.

“Just tell me. If I hadn’t been sat here, would you have fucked him?”

And you didn’t completely understand it, didn’t know what answer he was looking for—the one that was acquiesce him enough to explain himself or at the very least go inside and forget about all this ever happening—so instead you answered honestly. “Yes,” but your voice cracked at the end, so you snatched your hand back, cradling it to yourself like an injured bird you hoped to keep cocooned in your warm. You cleared your throat and tried again. “Yeah, I would have slept with him. And if it hadn’t been him, I would have found someone else.”

He nodded, looking as if he were pained but you were certain, now, it wasn’t because of the punch he’d taken to the face. “And if I had answered your call, met you there, got drunk and kissed you, would you have fucked me, too?”

You reeled at his words, feeling entirely as though you were the one in the midst of a fight. “Where is this coming from, Steve? Why are you saying these things to me?” you begged, pleaded, tired of whatever back-and-forth the two of you had gotten into the habit of.

“Look—” and he was determined now, steely gaze pinning you to the ground. His bruised knuckles brushed through his hair, scattering the strands across his forehead so that your fingers tingled with the urge to brush them out of his eyes like you’d always done. “—I should’ve said this ages ago. I just—I never could because it was never the right time, and I didn’t really see you in that way, not when I knew you did—” and really you wanted to stop him there, let the Earth swallow you whole and spit your bones out to be buried far from here. “I knew you had this—this thing for me but I ignored it but then we became friends and we—I mean, we watch movies, and we cuddle on the couch and sometimes I think I’d like to do that with you all the time and—

“Steve, please,” you whispered through the tears flooding past your irises, looking anywhere but at him, cheeks flushed with humiliation. He’d always had this tight grip around your heart and maybe he didn’t know that with every word he spoke that grip tightened, and tightened, and you were sure your heart was going to burst if he didn’t shut up right then.

“Just listen—I want to do those things with you always, sweetheart, I really do. I could’ve—I mean, I should’ve communicated my feelings earlier, I know I should have, but I didn’t want to lie to you. Not when you mean so much to me and I couldn’t give you what you wanted.” He looked at you then, expectantly, reaching forward to pull you into his embrace but you stumbled back, wanting out of the hold he had on you in more ways than one.

“Am I meant to thank you for looking at me differently now?” you bit out, exhaustion coating your syllables like rust on a nail.

His face fell as he stuttered over his own words. “I mean—no, sweetheart, no, of course not, I just thought—”

“You thought because I’m pathetic—because I’ve always been fucking pathetic to you—stumbling after you since high school that I’d just be, what, waiting for you? That I’d welcome your change of heart with open arms and gratitude?” you scoffed, gaze narrowed as you watched that wall of his build itself back up. Your ego was bruised and you were too stubborn to admit it, because you thought he had been clueless, and that thought had kept you safe all these years as you curled into his side every weekend.

“I don’t think that. I’ve never thought that” he cautioned, temper rising. If Steve Harrington was anything it was beautiful, and if he wasn’t beautiful, he was angry, stubborn, a pot ready to boil over.

“Come on, Steve. You said it yourself: I’ve had a thing for you since freshmen year. I followed you after we graduated, and I’ve followed you again, here, now. It took me years—fucking years—to get over it, to accept that I’d never be more than a friend, if that, and now, after you’ve been dodging me for days, you turn around and confess some sort of miracle feelings for me?” You were panting, out of breath from the way the words spilled out of you, thoughts you shouldn’t have kept to yourself all this time.

“Well what should I have done!” he roared, and a few curious lights blinked on from the building behind him. “Should I have not befriended you when you turned up to the same college? Should I have, instead, fucked you ten years ago when it would have meant nothing to me?” And you flinched at his words.

“You should have let me be, Steve,” you sighed, defeated. Because he was right, but you hated him for prodding at wounds you were still trying to heal. “You should have kept it to yourself and let me be.” But really what you wanted to say was you’ve been lying to Robin and Nancy because you weren’t over him. You loved him; you’d always love him, but you were afraid, if you told him the truth, that he’d slowly fade from your life until he wasn’t a part of it anymore.

He nodded, face slipping into that mask of his you’d dreaded seeing. “Right. Got it.”

He pushed past you, and you wanted to thank him for the slight brush of his skin against yours, but you kept quiet, like you always had.

as always, please comment and reblog if you enjoyed <3

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