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d-z20 · 29 days ago

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Neighbourly Care part 2 (NSFW)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: You try to forget the night with your neighbours by going on dates, but it doesn't go as planned. It goes better ;)

-OR-

Your hot MILF neighbours see you on a date and get jealous so they fuck you again

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, switch mommy Agatha, top daddy Rio, both are possessive, strap-ons, oral, double penetration, marking, degredation & praise kink, spanking, choking, orgasm denial, good bit of aftercare at the end

Words: 5.5k

A/N: If you thought it couldn't get any hornier you are very very mistaken. It is so much filthier than part 1

Not For Sharing

Warmth envelops you as consciousness seeps back into your mind. A subtle, sweet scent lingers in the air—a mix of flowers and something distinctly comforting. You stir, the remnants of your dream still vivid: your impossibly hot neighbours had swept you off your feet, indulging in a passionate embrace and fucking you so good you’re pretty sure you died. The nights you dream of them are always that little bit better. Smiling, you let out a satisfied sigh, tugging the soft, firm thing in your arms closer. Must be a pillow, you think lazily, nuzzling into its warmth.

"Good morning, sweetheart," a familiar voice chuckles.

Your eyes snap open.

Agatha.

Not a pillow.

Not a dream...

You’re curled against her side, your head resting snugly on her stomach. She’s propped up slightly, her body warm and soft beneath you. An arm is draped around you, her hand brushing soothing strokes up and down your back as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. In her other hand, she holds a book, but as you blink up at her, she smiles and gently closes it, setting it aside.

"Mornin'," you mumble, your voice thick with sleep. You barely resist the urge to bury your face back into her, your cheeks burning as the realisation of last night fully dawns on you.

Agatha leans down and kisses the top of your head. The simple gesture sends warmth flooding through you. She tilts your chin up gently, her eyes twinkling with something unreadable. "Your clothes from yesterday have been washed and dried," she says, her voice soft and matter-of-fact. "And Rio’s in the kitchen making breakfast for us."

Before you can respond, Rio strides into the room, three mugs of coffee balanced expertly in her hands. She hands one to Agatha with a quick peck on her lips, then holds another out to you.

"Morning, sleepyhead," she says with a teasing grin, her tone impossibly warm.

"Thanks," you mumble, taking the coffee. She slides onto the bed beside you, lifting an arm and raising an expectant brow.

"Shift over," Rio says, wiggling her fingers invitingly.

"Hey! I was enjoying the warmth," Agatha protests, mock-affronted.

"Yeah, well, you’ve been enjoying it for the past couple hours," Rio shoots back.

"Hours?!" you exclaim, heat rising to your cheeks again as you sit up, coffee clutched between your hands.

"Well, yes," Agatha says lightly. "You were clearly very tired." She doesn’t elaborate, her smile mysterious, and Rio just hums in agreement, leaning back against the headboard as she pulls you snugly against her side.

—

The three of you share a leisurely breakfast in the kitchen—pancakes, eggs, and endless cups of coffee. Agatha and Rio exchange easy, affectionate banter, occasionally roping you into the conversation. They’re warm and welcoming, making you feel at home despite the lingering butterflies in your stomach.

"We were thinking of taking you out today," Agatha says as you finish the last of your coffee. "Just something casual. Then we’ll drop you off at the train station later."

Rio nods. "Sound good?"

You blink, momentarily startled by their kindness. "Yeah," you say softly. "Thanks."

They wave it off, smiling, and you excuse yourself to get changed into your freshly laundered clothes.

—

The day unfolds with relaxed simplicity. First, they take you to a cosy bookshop tucked into a quiet side street. Rio pulls a ridiculous rom-com novel off the shelf and insists on reading the blurb aloud, much to Agatha’s exasperation. Next, you stroll through a park, the crisp air filling your lungs as you wander past street performers and families enjoying their weekend. They buy you a coffee from a nearby cart, Agatha teasing you when you nearly spill it on yourself.

Afterward, they take you to a charming little boutique, where Agatha insists you try on a scarf that matches your eyes. “Perfect,” she declares, adjusting it around your neck with a soft smile.

By lunchtime, they lead you to a small, bustling restaurant with mismatched chairs and walls covered in framed photographs. The food is delicious—warm and filling—and the conversation flows easily. It feels surreal, sitting across from the two of them as if you’ve known them forever.

As the meal winds down, Agatha pulls your phone out of your hand. "We’re putting our numbers in," she announces, typing quickly, before sliding the phone to Rio, who does the same.

"We already have yours," Rio says, her voice warm. "If you ever need anything—anything at all—just give us a call or shoot us a text."

You nod, touched, and tuck the phone back into your pocket.

—

The drive to the train station feels bittersweet. They both walk you to the platform, hugging you when the train approaches.

"Thank you," you say again, your voice earnest as you meet their gazes.

Agatha’s smile is soft, her eyes lingering on you. "Take care, sweetheart."

"Don’t be a stranger," Rio adds, nudging your arm.

You wave goodbye as you board the train, watching them until they disappear from view. The train begins to move, and you sink into your seat, warmth blooming in your chest. You’re not sure what last night meant—or if you’ll ever fully understand it—but you know one thing for certain: you’ll never forget it.

—

It’s been five weeks since that weekend, and they still occupy your every thought. The scent of them in the air, the warmth of their arms, the gentle cadence of their laughter—it all plays on a loop in your mind. You’ve gone on a few dates with other people since then, trying to distract yourself, but nothing compares. Nothing satisfies.

A few nights ago, things hit a new low. In the midst of a heated hookup, as your date left a mark on your neck, you’d moaned Rio’s name. Somehow, you managed to laugh it off and keep going, but minutes later, when Agatha’s name slipped out, the whole thing came to an abrupt halt. You were left flustered, wet, and unsatisfied—wanting Rio and Agatha with a desperate ache you couldn’t shake.

You’ve thought about texting them. A thousand messages drafted and then deleted. What would you even say? They haven’t messaged you, either, you think. Were they waiting for you? Or was that weekend nothing more than a fun, fleeting indulgence for them—a way to “mix things up,” as Agatha had casually put it?

Tonight, you’re determined to move on.

As you finish getting ready, you remind yourself to put them out of your mind. Your new date seems funny enough, and meeting them at a trendy bar feels like a step in the right direction. You’re going to have fun tonight. You’re going to be present.

—

The bar is loud and bustling, neon lights reflecting off polished surfaces. You try to focus on your date, but within minutes, it’s clear they’re not who you hoped they’d be. Their jokes are flat, their smile forced, and they’ve been unreasonably rude to the waitstaff. You make a mental note to leave as soon as politeness allows.

Then you see Agatha and Rio walk in, commanding the room without even trying. They’re magnetic, glowing under the low lighting, and your heart stumbles in your chest. What are they doing here? You’ve never seen them around before; okay, yes, they only live a few hours drive away, but their sudden appearance feels like a sign, though you’re unsure of what.

Agatha’s gaze sweeps across the room and lands on you. Her brows lift slightly, and a smirk tugs at her lips. Rio follows her line of sight, her expression shifting to something warmer—though there’s a flicker of irritation when her eyes land on your date. They exchange a look, and then both of them start making their way over.

Your date notices your distraction and huffs. “You gonna stop staring and pay attention to me, or...” Their tone is sharp, and they snap their fingers in your face.

Before you can reply, Agatha and Rio arrive at your table, flanking you on either side.

"Well, hello there," Agatha purrs, her voice warm but laced with something sharper. She leans in slightly, brushing her fingers lightly over your shoulder. "Fancy seeing you here."

Rio crosses her arms, her gaze fixed on your date. “Interesting company you’re keeping tonight,” she says, her tone neutral but her eyes anything but.

Your date bristles, clearly annoyed. “Who the hell are you two?”

Agatha straightens, her smile cool. “Friends. Good friends.” Her hand lingers on the back of your chair, fingers drumming casually but possessively.

Rio, meanwhile, focuses on you, her brow furrowed in faint concern. “You okay here?”

Your date scoffs. “We were just fine until you two showed up.”

Agatha chuckles, the sound low and dangerous. “Is that so?” Her gaze shifts to you, her expression softening just slightly. “Doesn’t look that way to me.”

Caught between them, you feel a mix of relief and embarrassment. You start to protest, trying to play it cool. “Guys, it’s fine. I—”

Agatha cuts you off, her voice firm but not unkind. “Sweetheart, we could see you weren’t enjoying yourself from across the room.”

Rio nods, her hand brushing against your arm. “You’re more than welcome to join us instead.”

Your date mutters something under their breath that sounds suspiciously like “fucking bitches," but Agatha and Rio ignore them entirely, their focus solely on you. The weight of their attention is overwhelming, and before you can fully process it, Agatha has her arm around your shoulder, guiding you out of your seat. Rio follows closely, her presence solid and reassuring.

—

They take you to an upscale restaurant, one far fancier than anywhere you’d normally go. You hesitate at the entrance, your protests spilling out in a rush. “This is too much—I can’t afford—”

“Our treat,” Agatha interrupts smoothly, holding the door open with a smile as Rio guides you forward, her hand firmly pushing on the small of your back.

The staff greets them by name—clearly they are regulars—and they lead the three of you to a cosy corner table. The atmosphere is intimate, the low lighting casting a golden glow. Over starters and mains, the tension between you shifts. What started as awkwardness melts into something electric.

Agatha and Rio tease you gently, their words laced with warmth and playful innuendo. Rio brushes her hand over yours when she reaches for the salt, and Agatha’s gaze lingers on your lips when you speak. The air between you crackles, the chemistry undeniable.

By the time dessert rolls around, you’re scratching absently at your neck, pulling the collar of your top aside. You don’t notice their gazes locking on the faint hickey, but you do feel the subtle shift in the room’s energy. Rio’s hand tightens on her wife’s thigh, and Agatha’s smile takes on a sharper edge.

Their questions come fast and pointed. “So, you’ve clearly been busy making friends since we last saw you?” Agatha asks, her tone deceptively casual.

Rio leans in, her eyes piercing. “What made you pick tonight’s winner?”

You stammer through answers, feeling their scrutiny like a physical touch. The intensity of their attention is both unnerving and thrilling.

Excusing yourself to the restroom, you take a moment to breathe. But as you wash your hands, the door opens, and Agatha steps inside. She leans against the counter beside you, her gaze heavy.

“Rio’s paying the bill,” she says, her voice low. Then her eyes drop to your neckline. “What’s this?” She tugs lightly at your collar, revealing the faint mark.

Heat floods your cheeks. “I—it’s nothing.”

She doesn’t respond, just steps closer, her hand brushing your arm. “We told you,” she murmurs, her voice dropping, “if you needed anything, you should call us.”

“I thought you meant a ride or—”

Her lips cut off your protest, the kiss firm and possessive. When she pulls back, her hand lingers on your arm, her eyes dark with intent. "Come,” she insists.

The air is thick with tension as Agatha’s hand wraps firmly around your bicep, her grip unyielding but not harsh. She leads you out of the bathroom without a word, and the sight of Rio waiting outside sends a fresh wave of heat through your body. Rio’s dark, smouldering gaze meets yours, and without hesitation, she steps forward, flanking you as Agatha moves to the other side.

The three of you walk in silence, their presence commanding, leaving no room for anything but anticipation. They don’t speak, and neither do you; trailing just behind them, your mind races. The click of their shoes on the pavement echoes in your ears, their hands brushing your arms or back every so often, steadying you, anchoring you.

—

When you reach a hotel, the atmosphere shifts. They lead you through the grand entrance, past a curious concierge, and into the waiting elevator. The doors close, and the small space amplifies everything—Agatha’s scent, Rio’s presence, the sheer weight of their eyes on you.

Agatha moves first, her hands gripping your waist as she pulls you to her. “We told you to call us,” she murmurs against your ear, her voice low and commanding, her fingers digging into your sides just enough to make you shiver.

Rio joins in, her hand finding its way to the back of your neck. “Yet, there you were, clinging to some asshole,” she growls, her tone laced with irritation and something much darker. Her fingers tighten, forcing you to meet her gaze.

The elevator dings, the sound barely registering as they usher you out, their hands firm and guiding. They walk you down the plushly carpeted hallway, their pace unrelenting, and when they reach the room, Agatha pulls out the key card with practiced ease. The door swings open, and you’re all but pushed inside.

The air in the room feels charged, the door clicking shut behind you like the finality of a lock. You barely have a moment to take in your surroundings before they close in on you.

“You were supposed to ask us,” Agatha says, her voice sharp as she steps closer, her eyes blazing. “For anything. For everything.”

Rio crosses her arms, her jaw set tight. “Instead, we find that you’ve been busy making friends,” she demands, her tone snearing at the final word.

You stumble over your words, your pulse racing. “I—I wasn’t trying to— It’s just, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I thought maybe—”

“Maybe what?” Agatha snaps, cutting you off. “That you could distract yourself by throwing yourself at the first person who looked at you?”

“Yes! Wait, no!” You stammer. “All of the dates were just distractions, but none of them could get you guys out of my head.” You knew instantly you had messed up.

Rio’s eyes narrow. “All of the dates?” She repeats, her voice artificially soft.

“Uhhh… yeah, there’s been more than who you saw tonight,” you admit weakly, instantly regretting it when Agatha’s eyes flash with something dangerous.

“Clearly,” Rio hisses, stepping closer. Her hand shoots out, gripping your face firmly and tilting your head up so you can’t escape her gaze. “You are nothing but a common whore. I mean, just look at your neck.”

Agatha’s voice joins in, smooth and biting. “You’re ours. Don’t you get it? Ours. Not theirs, not anyone else’s.”

Your breath hitches, and you nod as best you can with Rio’s hand still holding your face. “Yes,” you whisper.

“Yes, what?” Rio prompts, her tone sharp.

“Y-yes, Mommy,” you manage, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

The effect is immediate. Rio’s lips crash against yours, the kiss claiming and consuming. Her fingers dig into your jaw, holding you in place as her tongue sweeps over yours, leaving you dizzy and breathless.

Then Agatha’s voice fills the space, low and possessive.

“We’re not sharing you with anyone else,” she declares, her presence suddenly behind you. Her hands snake around your waist, pulling you flush against her as her mouth finds the mark on your neck. She bites down, hard enough to make you gasp into Rio’s mouth, and then she soothes the sting with her tongue before sucking hard, ensuring her mark overlays the one already there.

Her hands begin to roam, firm and deliberate. They slide under your top, her nails raking lightly over your skin, leaving tingling trails in their wake. One hand moves upward, cupping your breast, while the other drifts downward, deftly undoing the buttons of your pants.

“You’re ours,” Agatha murmurs against your skin, her voice like a promise and a warning all at once. Her hand slips into your underwear, her touch confident and unapologetic, as her mouth continues its path along your neck.

Rio finally breaks the kiss. “Is that understood?” She asks, her tone brooking no argument as she watches you with hooded eyes, her fingers brushing the edge of your jaw.

“Yes, Daddy,” you whisper, voice catching as Agatha’s fingers ghost over your clit. The words hang in the air, heavy with intent.

It was a stab in the dark to use the term for Rio; you have no clue if she likes it or not. However, judging by the look on her face and the way she bit down on her own lip, it was a good choice.

Agatha chuckles against your neck, her teeth grazing your skin. “Good,” she murmurs, her hand moving with purpose. “Now let’s remind you exactly who you belong to.”

Rio starts kissing you again; it’s needy, like she’s trying to consume you. Meanwhile, both of Agatha’s hands find their way back to your waist, her fingers hooking under the waistband of your pants, tugging them down with a firm motion. You feel her sink to her knees and bite your ass cheek as she helps you step out of your pants, and you let out a small yelp.

You feel Rio smile against your lips before pulling back and spinning you to face Agatha. She playfully nips at the shell of your ear before trailing her mouth lower, sucking and biting at your jaw and the sensetive spot behind your ear. Just as she licks a stripe up your neck, Agatha’s open mouth presses against your core.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimper, shuddering slightly.

“You’re so pathetic,” Agatha breathes, “you’ve ruined your underwear, like the slut you really are.” She drags her tongue over you slowly, tasting your arousal through the fabric. Not wanting to miss out, Rio’s hand lightly bats away Agatha’s head so she can cup you through your underwear, and you feel her exhale shakily against your ear from how wet you are.

Your head drops backwards in pleasure, but Rio’s other hand is there in an instant, forcing your gaze down to Agatha. “Don’t forget, you need to look at Mommy, baby.”

From this angle, you can see straight down the front of Agatha’s sleek black halterneck dress. It’s plunging neckline had offered you a tantalising view at dinner, but this was something else entirely.

“Thank you, my love; you can get ready now,” Agatha states, coming up to stand next to you. She grasps your hair and roughly drags you to the bed, shoving your face down so you’re bent over the mattress. She clasps your wrists behind your back, securing them with makeshift cuffs made from a belt.

Just as you’re wondering exactly where she got the belt from, you feel her lean down, pressing into your back. “If you’re going to act like a harlot, then we’ll treat you as such,” she whispers in your ear.

She places a hand between your thighs and starts rubbing gently, and despite her calm demeanour, you can hear her breathing get more ragged. She pulls the fabric of your underwear to the side and starts ghosting her fingers over your clit. “We’re going to make sure you never ever forget who you belong to,” she whispers before thrusting two fingers inside you.

You gasp slightly at the feeling, but your arousal soon coats her fingers, and the movements become smooth as you adjust to her. Even though it had been on your mind since you woke up in her bed, you had forgotten just how good sex with Agatha felt. You can feel her grinding into you as she’s fucking you, clearly desperate for some friction herself.

Suddenly she stops and climbs off you; you’re about to protest when your underwear gets ripped off.

“Well, they were already ruined, and they’re just going to get in the way,” you hear Rio’s voice chuckle behind you.

You’re expecting them to start touching you, but instead you hear sucking, and maybe... was that the sound of a gag? You crane your head back trying to see what’s happening, and the sight causes an involuntary moan to escape your lips: Agatha was kneeling in front of a naked Rio, her head bobbing back and forth. You can see a part of the dildo not in Agatha’s mouth, but you don’t see a harness.

“Is that a..."

“Yes, baby, I’m going to feel every thrust just as much as you; Agatha’s just getting this end ready for you," Rio answers. You actually feel yourself start to drip, and watch as Rio takes a sharp inhale as it trickles down your thigh. “I think they’re more than ready for me now, my love,” she adds, tugging softly at Agatha’s hair.

Agatha releases the strap but pushes down on it slightly, making Rio’s hips jolt as the other end shifts inside her.

Regaining her composure, Rio strides over to you and grabs a fistful of your hair, yanking you up so you’re arched into her. You feel the strap glide over your heat, and you can’t help but grind into it, moaning at the smallest bit of pressure against your clit. Rio lines up with your entrance and pushes the tip in before quickly withdrawing.

“Who do you belong to?” she groans, thrusting into you. But before you can adjust, she pulls out, leaving you feeling empty. All you can do is whine.

You hear a loud smack as Rio’s open palm hits your bare ass. “I asked you a question.”

It stings, but the pain blurs into pleasure as you feel another brief thrust in and out.

“You,” you moan, wanting to get fucked properly.

There’s fresh pain as Rio smacks you again.

“Daddy. I belong to you, Daddy.” It comes out as a sob, far more desperate than you’ve ever heard yourself.

“Mhmm, that’s it, sweetheart. Now I’m going to tell you exactly how Mommy likes to be eaten out, and you’re going to be a good pet and do exactly what I say, okay?” She presses a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Yes, Daddy.”

With your agreement, Rio releases you from your restraints and starts fucking you, her movements rough and deep. Agatha lies down in front of you, her legs spread, and you can see just how wet she is.

“I’d say you need to start by warming her up, but by the looks of it, she already is,” Rio says greadily. Then it was her turn to moan as your body jerks back into her from a particularly deep thrust.

“Well, since you decided to disobey us, watching Daddy teach you a lesson has really got me going," Agatha teases, “but I still need to feel your mouth on me, pet.”

You obey and bring your mouth close to Agatha’s pussy; you’re about to begin when you feel Rio smack you again between her thrusts. “I haven’t told you to do anything yet,” she snarls. “Start with broad licks up and down; you’ll need to pin her hips as Mommy’s rather sensitive and tends to squirm around.”

“Rio,” Agatha warns, giving you the impression she still has control over the woman behind you.

You do as you’re told and begin licking firm but broad. Rio was right; Agatha was very sensitive, and she bucks her hips every time you get near her clit. She buries her hands in your hair and pushes you into her. “Yes. Fuck, baby, that feels so good.”

Rio’s nails bite into your hip where she’s holding you, and she starts to thrust even harder. Her moans are loud and gutteral. “Okay, now start to circle her clit with the tip of your tongue.” Her voice is breathy. “Fuck, okay, fuck, I’m getting close,” she pants. “And every so often you should put your lips around it and suck a little.”

Once again you do as you’re told, and once again Agatha starts to writhe beneath you, grinding against your face. Rio wraps an arm around your waist, her fingers stroking your clit, and you moan at the added stimulation, so close to climaxing.

The vibrations push Agatha even closer to her own orgasm as she gasps, "Mmm, I love what you’re doing, but I swear to fuck, if you don’t put your fingers inside me right now, pet, I will RUIN you.”

You’re torn. On the one hand, you want to make Agatha cum, but on the other, Rio hasn’t told you to do that yet, and you don’t want to find out what happens if you disobey her.

A hand wraps around your neck, squeezing just a bit, and Rio pulls you up; she stills her hips, but her fingers keep going. “Mommy gave you an order, sweetheart.” With no further warning, she pulls out and shoves you down next to Agatha. “Now you don’t get to cum until she has.”

You whine at the empty feeling, but it soon turns into a whimper as you watch Rio push the strap into Agatha, not even bothering to wipe it clean.

Your eyes flutter closed as you start to fuck yourself when all of a sudden Rio’s hand is back around your throat. “Uh uh, bad pets don’t get to touch themselves.” She turns her head, looking at her wife. “I’m sorry, darling. You’re going to have to touch yourself since this slut can’t keep their hands to themselves.”

“I mean, technically, I was keeping them to myself. You know since I was touching myself and not either of you.” You’re smiling, proud of the loophole you found, until you spot how both women are glaring at you, realising the magnitude of your mistake.

“Oh no. Oh no no no,” Agatha scolds. “You will keep your mouth shut, your hands on the headboard, and your face to the wall until we say otherwise.”

You get up, crawling to the top of the bed, head drooping at the realisation that you won’t even get to watch them cum.

The room is quickly filled with moans and gasps as Rio and Agatha help each other through their orgasms, but it doesn’t stop, and you’re pretty sure that they go for rounds two and three. Pressing your thighs together, you grit your teeth, determined not to disobey them again.

It feels like it’s been an eternity, but finally you hear Agatha call you back, and when you turn around to look at them, they are a complete mess with red bite marks scattered across both of their chests. Rio turns, grabbing something from her bag, and you see the large scratch marks Agatha has left all down her back.

“Thank you, my love.” Agatha says, taking whatever it was Rio had grabbed. "Now, pet, you are going to ride Daddy’s cock, and I will join you in a minute.”

You nod, excited to hopefully get some reprieve from the ache of having your orgasm denied. “Yes, Mommy,” you add quickly, trying to avoid another punishment.

Rio lies down on her back, pulling you into a quick kiss. “Clean it first.”

Humming with excitement, you lower your head and take the strap in your mouth; it’s still warm from being inside Agatha, and you groan at the taste of her on it.

You only get a few seconds before Rio pulls you away, guiding your hips so you’re straddling her, hovering over the strap. “You look so perfect like this,” her voice is soft and encouraging. You lower yourself down and let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. “So perfect,” she repeats.

“You feel so good,” you moan, starting to roll your hips.

Her hands grip your waist, helping you up and down, but it’s not enough, and she starts thrusting up into you. You stutter and fall forward into Rio, all your strength sapped from your muscles as she hits the perfect spot.

Agatha comes up behind you, her hand stroking your back. “Do you think you can take more, sweetheart?”

"Mhmm” is all you can manage before burying your head in Rio’s neck.

You were expecting some stimulation on your clit or maybe Agatha replacing Rio with something bigger. What you weren't expecting, however, was Agatha to push her own strap in as well. It stretches you at first, making you feel wonderfully full.

“Oh fuck,” you mewl, biting down on Rio’s neck to suppress your moans

Agatha starts to move, causing you to cry out in pleasure. The sound encourages her, and she starts to bare down harder. “You’re taking us so well, baby.”

Rio hums in agreement. The force of Agatha’s thrusts sending fresh waves of pleasure through her. She drags her nails up your back, digging in with every jolt of your hips. “Don’t you ever forget who you belong to again,” she whispers, starting to mark your neck and shoulders with her mouth, and you feel your stomach start to knot.

Desperate for just that little bit more, you start begging. “Please, please, I need more.”

You grab Agatha’s hand and shove it between your legs. Chuckling softly, she gives you what you need, and your orgasm comes crashing over you.

It takes a few minutes, but both of them pull out when your legs finally stop shaking. Rio lets you lie on her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around you. “You did so good for us,” she purrs, pressing kisses to your temple and running her fingers through your hair.

You hear Agatha turn on the shower as she cleans up the toys, returning to the bed when she’s done. “Sweetheart, do you need anything?”

You shake your head weakly at Agatha’s question, your body still tingling from the intensity of your orgasm. Rio strokes your hair gently, her fingers trailing soothing patterns down your back. “You sure, baby?” Agatha presses, leaning down to run a hand along your calf, her touch grounding and warm. “Water? A snack? Anything at all?”

You finally manage to whisper, “Water, maybe.”

Agatha nods, a small, reassuring smile tugging at her lips. “I’ll be right back.” She kisses your knee softly before disappearing into the adjoining room. Rio continues her ministrations, cradling you as if you might drift away. “Just breathe, love,” she murmurs, her lips brushing your hairline. “We’ve got you.”

Agatha returns moments later with a glass of water and a cool, damp cloth. She perches beside you on the bed, offering the water with one hand while using the cloth to dab tenderly at your flushed face and neck. “There you go,” she coos, her voice soft and melodic. “Nice and slow.”

You sip the water, feeling the cool liquid revive you slightly. Agatha takes the glass once you’ve had your fill and sets it on the bedside table before tucking the blanket around you more snugly. “You did so well, sweetheart,” she murmurs, her fingers brushing lightly over your arm. “We’re so proud of you.”

After a while, Agatha glances at Rio and tilts her head toward the bathroom. “Let’s clean up, darling,” she says softly, giving your leg a reassuring squeeze. “You’ll feel even better after a warm shower.”

Rio carefully helps you sit up, her arms still supporting you as your legs wobble slightly. She and Agatha guide you to the bathroom, where the steam from the shower has already fogged up the mirror. The warmth of the room wraps around you as Agatha steps into the shower first, adjusting the water temperature before holding out a hand to you. “Come here, love.”

You step in with their help, the hot water cascading over you instantly soothing your sore muscles. Agatha stands behind you, massaging your shoulders and neck, while Rio lathers up a soft washcloth, gently cleansing your skin. Their touches are tender, unhurried, and filled with care. Agatha presses a kiss to your damp shoulder as she rinses you off, while Rio keeps her gaze locked on yours, a soft smile playing on her lips.

When they’re satisfied that you’re fully relaxed and clean, they wrap you in a fluffy towel and guide you back to the bed. The sheets have been straightened, and the pillows fluffed, creating a cosy nest that feels like heaven when you crawl back in. Rio slides in beside you, pulling you against her chest once more, while Agatha climbs in on your other side, her arm draping protectively over both of you.

“Better now?” Agatha asks, her voice a quiet hum as she brushes a strand of hair from your face.

You nod, a content sigh escaping your lips. “Much better. Thank you.”

Rio chuckles softly, pressing another kiss to your temple. “Anything for our pet.”

-----

As always, please like and reblog if you enjoyed :)

I have a few ideas for more chapters if people want??

Edit: Comment if you want to be added to the taglist for future chapters :)) - you must have your age in your bio

Part 3 out now

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affableramen · 2 months ago

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when they finish earlier than you

mature content including sexual themes; established relationships

Wriothesley, Tartaglia, Neuvillette, Pantalone, Ayato, Capitano, Dottore, Alhaitham, Dainsleif, Baizhu

Wriothesley

He groans with emotion but it’s only a few seconds after he realises that you’re still beneath him, still haven't come. Wriothesley looks at your widened, surprised eyes and agape mouth.

“Bloody hell—”, he spits with a shaky voice. “I’m so sorry, we haven't seen each other for a while and I—”

Wriothesley gently caresses your hip, while chuckling and looking at you half-blushing. “Shit, I must have missed you too much.”

It’s not a problem for him to bring you to the peak with his mouth or hands.

Tartaglia

He squirts his release with a loud moan, pressing you close to his chest, his face buried into your neck. Those little bites shall leave radiant marks.

“Oh my god…” Ajax moans into your neck. “Oh f-fuck—I—”, he pats your back, “Fuck, I have never come so fast before. It’s not my fault, peanut, you’re too gorgeous for your own good.” He jokingly says, hiding his blush into your neck so you have no idea of it. Ajax is incredibly embarrassed and frustrated with his manhood that got too sensitive too soon.

Neuvillette

Neuvillette feels embarrassed and upset over losing his composure so quickly. He usually lasts long, and finding himself in such predicament gives way to the feeling of guilt and frustration.

“Darling, we can go one more round to get you satisfied. Please forgive me, my love.”

“No need to, Neuvillette, the both of us are tired. We can do it anytime during the week.”

“But I feel so guilty for coming first and not giving you the release you deserved. Let me at least satisfy you with my hands.”

“I don’t mind that, but please don't stress yourself out too much. It’s just sex, we can do many times better later. Nothing changes between us if you simply came early.”

Neuvillette caresses your face softly and speaks with emotion.

“You know that I usually last. I feel so defeated right now.”

To comfort your husband you place a kiss on the centre of his palm.

“Cumming early doesn't make my love to you fade, Neuvillette. In all honesty, I’m glad if I make you so excited that you can barely hold it together.” You give one other awkward but loving smiles.

Pantalone

“I—I apologise. I did not foresee that, darling”, with a perplexed, disoriented look Pantalone pulls away. He gets purchase on the clean towel and covers his body in shame. A terrific sight, so rare for the Ninth Harbinger who is usually unabashed, especially in intimacy.

“Oh my—how pathetic!”

You try to comfort him, saying that he must have been both too excited and tired after work, which ended up in premature peak, but Pantalone seems too distressed and angry at his inability to control himself as he quickly vanishes from the bedroom.

Ayato

With a stiffled moan Ayato finishes, but somehow it feels so wrong - releasing much earlier than you, when his significant other’s orgasm is in question.

Ayato grabs the towel and wipes himself clean, while looking down at you, your legs still thrown on his shoulders.

“Oh my goodness”, he laughs at himself, but the laugh is nervous, not cocky or proud as it usually is. The man’s ego seems to die out ridiculously soon, as quickly as he finishes this time.

“We’ll have to go one more round after that…” he hisses, his member still very sensitive. “Once I get ready again.”

Capitano

“Hngghh—”

Capitano pulls out with a well-heard grunt and pulls you closer to his chest. You are lying on top of him, your bodies are slightly wet when he makes a remark:

“I apologise, wife. It seems my stamina betrayed me tonight”, he gives a smooch to your cheek, brief but filled with devoted emotion. “Maybe if you stay a while like this, I can satisfy you longer. What do you think?” He delivers yet another kiss, this time to your neck. His voice sounds much quieter and he gently runs his hand through your hair.

“We should really stay together tonight. I feel like I need you more than ever. And not a word about this to anyone.”

Dottore

“Dottore, get out of the bathroom, immediately.”

“No!” A grunt and a curse escape from the inside of the bathroom. “I must learn what caused the fail in performance.”

“Dottore, I’m happy either way. Besides you looked quite funny.”

“FUNNY—she thinks I’m funny”, he utters to himself under his breath. “I’m going to check this little idiot for ruining our bedtime.”

Your amused laugh can be heard from the bedroom, as Dottore’s anger at his own manhood looks funny.

Alhaitham

“Oh, Y/N—f-fuck!” Alhaitham certainly does not expect himself to cum prematurely. His face looks red and his expression radiates emotion. You swear you have never seen a face sexier than this. You didn't know that he could ever be able to cum so hard (and so soon).

Alhaitham scowls, looking at you. “What? You think this is funny? It’s just a one time occurrence.” Another moan escapes his mouth and he covers his face with his hand. “You shouldn't see me like this—”

Dainsleif

Dainsleif falls onto the bed, utterly defeated and pulls you with him. You notice how heavily he is breathing and judging by the perplexed look on his face, never he did expect rushing his own release. He was shocked, to say in the least.

“Don’t look at me like that. You think you’ve defeated me?” Dainsleif groans when you move to his chest. “I will make you finish twice next time, and believe me—much earlier than me.”

Baizhu

Baizhu lets out a moan he did not expect coming and immediately covers his mouth. His face is red and silly when he looks down at you. He is blushing extraordinarily, and the buds of sweat roll over his chest as he towers over you.

“Let’s pretend this did not happen, my dear”, he runs his hand down your lips and onto your neck. “Oh my goodness, how embarrassing.”

Yet you just give him a sincere laugh. “Baizhu, it’s alright. I enjoyed it immensely.”

#Anime smut #genshin impact smut #Genshin smut #genshin x female reader #genshin x reader #pantalone x reader #pantalone x you #wriothesley x you #capitano x reader #anime x reader #neuvillette x reader #ayato x you #ayato x reader #alhaitham x reader #dottore x reader #wriothesley x reader #neuvillette x female reader #baizhu x reader #dainsleif x reader

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manikas-whims · 2 months ago

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Love and Deepspace men when the two of you get 0% score on an online compatibility test

ZAYNE

❄️ Doesn’t take it seriously at all. Exaggeratedly raises eyebrows. “You don't actually believe in such nonsense, do you?”

❄️ You do know these are just silly tests made to lure couples and you wouldn't have cared but 0% is too much! And his lack of reaction annoys you. “You should be a little disappointed! Maybe you don't love me as much as you claim! Hmph!” 😤

❄️ Seeing you childishly fold your arms and puff out your cheeks, makes him smile. He pats your head and lowers his head to your face’s level so you're unable to avoid his gaze.

❄️ “Then..let me make it up by doing things that will raise our score.” He suggests. “How about a date? Or a kiss? Or..” His hand slips down your head, fingers leaving a cold trail along your cheek and neck, and come to rest upon your collarbone.

❄️ Your lips part at the gesture. And he tugs at the neckline of your shirt, his voice an octave lower. “Or we can do something more stimulating for a higher score..”

❄️ The compatibility test is long forgotten after that as you get busy with “more stimulating” things.

XAVIER

⭐ Takes it way too seriously. Narrows his brows, practically glares at the test score on your phone’s screen, and pouts. “It shouldn't be that low.”

⭐ You're the one trying to remind him it's just a silly poll on the internet and that it doesn't define the relationship you two share or diminish the love you have for each other. But he just won't be swayed so easily. He’ll try to shoulder all the blame upon himself for that 0% score. “Don’t worry. I’m not blaming you. Maybe it's me.”

⭐ “No way!” You try to be playful about it to cheer him up. “Maybe it's my fault!”

⭐ He’ll give a firm shake of his head to deny your claim. “You give me everything I could ask for and more. It’s definitely because of me.”

⭐ Over the days he becomes more and more loving, looking out for you during missions more than necessary, initiating skinship and romantic gestures whenever he can. So you grab his arm and draw him closer. “If you wanna improve that score so badly, then..” You lick your lips and lower your lashes.

⭐ He immediately gets the hint, his cheeks flushing a light shade of pink at the suggestion, and he smiles as he lets his hand run along your thighs. “I can do that.”

RAFAYEL

🌊 He says he doesn't give a fuck but he's watching the results from the corner of his eyes. And he's NOT PLEASED about that 0% score.

🌊 He's gonna be petty about it and blame you for it. And of course, even though you know it’s just an online score, the minute he blames you, you lash back at him. And now you two are just bickering.

🌊 “You go out on missions and don't even text any updates! Leave me worried and distracted for hours! Do you even know how much that affects the creativity of an artist!?” He accuses.

“If you actually loved me, you'd know I'm capable enough to handle myself!” You fire back.

“Oh I'm sorry for giving a damn!” He dramatically throws his hands in the air.

You roll your eyes. “Now don't apologise for caring!”

“Well then stop making me worry!” He whines in exasperation.

🌊 The long argument ends with the two of you puffing your cheeks at each other, only to end up laughing and making up. You two realise how childish you were being over a silly online compatibility test of all.

🌊 He takes hold of your palm and places a kiss on it's back. “Let’s fix that score with dinner at your favourite place. And, ” He winks mischievously and adds, “..breakfast in my bed.”

SYLUS

🐦‍⬛ He knows all these compatibility tests are a scam. But whenever he sees you being excited about something, he indulges. And indulge he will. By taking it a lil seriously.

🐦‍⬛ Will lower his head to peek at your smartphone’s screen and frown at that 0%.

🐦‍⬛ “Well this isn't a surprise.” He states calmly with a shrug. “Thanks to your job, you don't stop by the N109 Zone as often as you used to, kitten. And my schedule keeps me far too occupied for anything else.”

🐦‍⬛ He tucks a hand under his chin and looks thoughtfully. “How about I take my bike and you request your boss for a leave? Then we can head out for a week-long vacation to wherever you want.” He lowers his head then, lips moving along your ear. “And do whatever you want.”

🐦‍⬛ You smack his chest lightly in hopes of hiding your blush at his dirty implications. “You have it all planned out, huh?”

🐦‍⬛ “Only when it comes to you, sweetie.”

i just realized i have so many of these reaction headcanons in my drafts so i’m trying to clean up..gonna try to post more of these again..need to get my head back into writing 🤞

» MASTERLIST «

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babyleostuff · 11 months ago

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kissing them mid argument | ot13

❥ seungcheol

instantly forgets what you were fighting about AND will chase your lips with his. cheol usually argues until the end, but when it comes to you, it doesn't matter if the blame falls on him (even though he didn't do anything) - as long as he can go back to hugging, kissing and suffocating you with his love, he’s a 100% fine with taking the blame (okay, who’re we kidding - he’ll be a bit sulky). you’d keep apologising to each other with his forehead resting on yours, and whisper quiet "i love you’s" that cheol would seal with his pouty lips on yours.

❥ jeonghan

jeonghan would roll his eyes, one - to tease you, two - to hide how shy your kiss made him. his cheeks would turn into a pretty shade of pink but he’d quickly try to distract you with a sarcastic remark or gaslight you that you’re the one that got shy, just to hide his reaction. at the end though, hannie would grab your hand, pulling you closer to him, and place a soft kiss on your lips. "you're lucky that i love you, because normally i would have kicked you out of the house by now."

❥ joshua

shy at first then turns into a little menace. he’d try to turn it all against you and probably start chasing you around the apartment so he could kiss you back (a perfect way to put that awful argument behind you, since it was about something silly anyway). shua would still have a slight blush on his cheeks when he gets you, wrapping you in a big hug, as you’d try to wriggle yourself out of his grip. soon your living room would be filled with giggles and laughs.

❥ jun

turns into a shy and blushy bean, which always happens when you kiss him out of the blue. jun was just so focused on the argument and careful not to raise his voice at you that he totally didn’t catch the moment you grabbed him by his hoodie, smashing your lips into his. he’d thank his lucky stars for your kiss, he absolutely hated fighting with you, and nothing felt better than feeling your lips on his, your body close to his chest, and your hands cupping his face.

❥ hoshi

he’d grin so widely it’d be almost impossible, with the corners of his eyes scrunched adorably - soonyoung is a number one fan of your skinship and physical affection, and you kissing him is a cherry on top no matter what - even if you’re arguing. not a second would go by, and hoshi would pull you back, kissing you all over your face as both of you would erupt in a fit of giggles and soft smiles. just for funsies, soonyoung would try to start an “argument” with you just so you’d kiss him again.

❥ wonwoo

malfunctiones for a hot second. just kind of stands there and blinks - no thoughts, head empty. all his rational arguments would fly out of his head and he wouldn't know what to do with himself. "yes, well.. um." then he could react in two ways - either his ears would turn red with embarrassment, or he would snap at you with the "what the hell do you think you are doing." (with love of course). wonwoo just doesn't always know how to react to your affection.

❥ woozi

jihoon can’t help but smile - he thinks you’re the cutest and most adorable thing ever. after he realises how widely he’s smiling, he scoffs and shakes his head in disapproval, just to hide how giddy and fluffy you made him feel with such a small thing. “do you think this will end the fight?” just give him another kiss and he’s gone - the fight is forgotten, there is no way jihoon will take this argument seriously anymore, thanks to you and your cute antics. what can i say, he has THE biggest soft spot for you.

❥ dk

he’s face would scream “kiss me again, please?” one of the things seokmin hates the most is fighting with you - even if it’s just a small everyday argument - he can’t handle that, so he’s so so happy and relieved when you kiss him. the second you pull away you’re met with his puppy eyes and an adorable pout, so you don’t have much choice but to kiss him again. your fight would quickly turn into a soft makeout session, filled with gentle kisses and apologies, though neither of you really knew what you were apologising for at this point.

❥ mingyu

sulky baby because he was about to say the best argument in his life, happy that he could finally stand up for himslef (though he knew he wouldn’t have won that fight either way). but to be honest, gyu would just be relieved that the fight was over, and if he wasn't so focused on kissing you back, smashing his lips into yours, he’d probably do a victory lap around the apartment. his puppy eyes would be sparkling with nothing but love and excitement, delighted that he could go back to being his usual clingy mingoo self.

❥ minghao

would ignore your kiss at first and keep on fighting with you, adamant on proving his point. he’d ignore the next three kisses as well, still babbling about whatever you were fighting about. by the fifth kiss, hao would start to lose his train of thoughts, and he’d start stuttering a bit, trying to remember what he wanted to say. then the sixth and seventh kiss would come, and that’s when he’d give up on the fight. “cute,” he’d mutter with a soft smile, and finally kiss you back.

❥ seungkwan

“i’ll give you a kiss later, just let me finish.” very adamant on finishing the fight although he’d completely forget what he wanted to say, all thanks to your kiss, (but boo would still continue to babble even though it wouldn’t make much sense). then he’d just kind of catch himself making no sense, and he’d just laugh and kiss you back, your fight long forgotten (just as you’d be about to fall asleep he’d remember what he wanted to say, and would keep you up for the next hour just so he could finish the argument).

❥ vernon

malfunctiones #2. “okay, but does that mean we’re done fighting?” just stands there trying to process what had just happened, because a second ago you were arguing, and now you were kissing him? a bit confused, but relieved at the same time - vernon hates fighting with you, and it doesn’t really matter to him who takes the blame - he could honestly take the whole blame if that meant the fight was over. he’d think about that lil kiss for the rest of the day, he’d even catch himself smiling at the thought of it in the middle of practice.

❥ chan

blushes furiously, and hides his head in your neck. “you can’t kiss me like that, we’re fighting!” he’d mumble, although you knew he had forgotten about the argument the second your lips touched his - chan was just too shy to admit that. turns into a little cutie, because even though your relationship is filled with surprise kisses, and out of the blue hugs, they always make him shy and so fuzzy on the inside, and he can’t help but blush as every coherent thought leaves his mind.

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys

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mrsbarnesblog · 1 month ago

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cost of betrayal

masterlist

summary: after Rafe finds out the truth about you and Hollis, he comes back from Morocco, expecting you to be gone, but you refuse to leave without trying to work things out first

word count: 1.7k.

warnings: part 2 spoilers, angst and fluff, pogue reader, arguments, trust issues

a/n: i stand Sofia and Rafe, guys. need them together asap 🙏

“I think I told you to get the fuck out of my house, Y/N?” It’s the first thing you hear when Rafe walks through the front door of his house, throwing his bag on the floor and walking right past you, not even looking in your direction. You get up from the couch, wiping your sweaty hands on your pants.

Your chest feels tight, and your eyes are still swollen and red from the amount of crying as you silently follow him to the kitchen. That one stupid decision can cost you everything, including the man you love, and for the past few days, all you have been able to do is cry and curse yourself for being so stupid.

You stop when Rafe leans forward with his hands on the counter, his back is unusually tense, you feel anger radiating from him even from a distance and it’s all your fault, you know that.

“We need to talk.” You whisper, coming closer and hugging yourself with your arms.

“I have nothing to talk to you about.”

“Rafe, please. I need to explain.” He turns around suddenly, blue eyes colder than you have ever seen. You almost step back from Rafe’s intense gaze, because never before were you at the receiving end of that look. He was nothing but sweet and kind to you during your entire relationship, so losing that privilege hurts you even more.

He tries to hold back, tries to calm himself down at the image of your looking at him so sadly, with regret written all over your face. Rafe breathes heavily, trying to hide the pain of feeling played by you—the only person he thought he could trust wholeheartedly. He hates that even now, even with the anger raging inside him, he still feels that instinct to protect you, to calm you.

Hurts at the realisation that he doesn't want to lose you, that a part of him feels like he cannot survive without you, that even after what you’ve done he can’t let you go. He doesn’t want you to actually leave him alone.

“The fuck you need to explain? The way you betrayed me, huh?” He takes slow steps towards you, intimidating, almost threatening, but his voice shakes with emotions. “The way you went behind my back with that bitch Hollis to screw me up and make me lose my money? I fucking trusted you, I gave you everything and you still did that to me.” Rafe’s face was just inches from yours and you were unable to take your eyes from his, unable to even deny it, because he was not wrong.

“I know, Rafe, I know!” You sob, unable to hold back your tears. “I never wanted to hurt you, I never meant to set you up like that. I was angry at you and she appeared at that exact moment, and...

“She was fucking angry!” He yells, throwing his hands up in the air. You flinch but still stay your ground.

“Because you hurt me, Rafe!”

“Bullshit. I did nothing but take care of you.”

“I heard what you told your friends.” You yell back, not caring about trying to communicate properly anymore. You were wrong for doing that, yes, but the way his words made you feel at that moment was probably the worst pain you’ve ever experienced, so it wasn’t like you were the only one to blame. “That you’re not living with a pogue, that you have standards, that we’re just hooking up... I heard it all, Rafe. How did you expect me to react to that, huh?”

You see a slight shift of recognition or even regret in his eyes, but he quickly goes back to his previous coldness.

“So you made me lose my money because of this shit?”

“I know that it was wrong, okay? But... but do you understand what I felt at that moment? Do you understand how much it hurt me to hear it?” You sob again, desperately trying to wise away all of the tears that were streaming down your face. You’re barely able to speak properly with the lump in your throat, but you push it away because you feel there’s only one chance for you to get things straight with Rafe.

He stays silent, his brows are knitted, whether in still-lingering anger or in a hint of regret and frustration because of the way you were feeling. Rafe always hated seeing you cry, seeing you hurt in any type of way, even if he hasn’t always been able to admit or express it, and now part of him is more angry at himself than at you. Your trembling frame, the way your shoulders shake with each sob, chips away at his anger, leaving only the fear of losing you.

“We’ve been together for more than a year, Rafe. I— I thought that it meant something to you. That I mean something to you. I was hoping that maybe all of your kook and pogue bullshit was long forgotten, but you didn’t even hesitate to say that to Topper.” Your voice is filled with sadness and despair, and you are aware that you are probably looking a mess right now. All you can do is just wipe your face with the loose sleeves of your shirt, sniffing in between your words and trying to make your voice less shaky.

"How was I supposed to feel?" How would you feel if you were in my situation, Rafe? If I said you did not mean anything to me and I was just having a good time?" You ask, but don’t get an answer. Instead, he just looks at you silently, with a blank expression, because he knows that he would’ve gone absolutely crazy. “I love you. I did for a long time, but you made me feel as if I was nothing to you. Just another pogue that you despise, that you keep around for fun until you find someone better and just dump!” Placing a hand on your violently beating heart, you take a deep breath before continuing.

“It was stupid. I regretted it as soon as I did it and I wanted to tell you, but you had already signed the contract. I know I hurt you with what I did. But can you really say you didn’t hurt me first?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said it. I didn’t… I didn’t mean it like that. He finally mutters, his voice quieter now. “But you don’t get it, Y/N. All my life, everyone’s expected me to be a certain way, to follow the same fucking rules I don’t even believe in. I thought… I thought if I kept us under the radar, I’d protect you from that. And you know how hard it is for me to open up—that I don’t want to let people in because everyone ends up leaving me.”

“I never meant to betray you, I never wanted to be another person who hurts you, Rafe.” You feel like you are about to collapse, burying your face in your hands and crying.

It feels like a joke of your spiraling mind at first, but when your body suddenly gets embraced in a familiar warmth and scent, you break down completely. Rafe hugs you around your shoulders and you wrap your hands around his waist, gripping the back of his shirt and hiding your face in his chest. You’re sniffing and trembling, unable to breathe properly, until you feel his hand at the back of your head and his low voice shushing you.

“Breathe, baby. Just breathe. ‘S okay.” He rocks both of you from side to side until your breathing straightens. The steady beating of his heart soothes you quickly, until your tears get dry on your face. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. I was an idiot for not protecting you the way I should’ve.” You feel him slightly leaning down. Slow, delicate kisses being left on your temple, on your cheek, and with a slight movement of your head, Rafe’s able to capture your lips.

Your face is still sticky with tears, and your lips are swollen, but neither of you care as you start to melt against him. It’s been way to long since he left for Morocco. The stress that you’ve experienced from your fight and from the fact that you were going crazy about his safety was overwhelming.

While he was kissing you slowly, you both realized how hard it was to stay apart for that long, not sure of what was happening between you two.

“I’m sorry that you lost so much money because of me.” You mumbled when he pulled away, resting his forehead on yours.

“You know it’s not the damn money I actually care about. I thought that I was wrong about you, that I lost you, Y/N.” You shake your head against his, caressing the sides of his face with your hands.

Rafe lifts his free hand that was not holding your waist, placing it on top of your hand and you see the way his tense shoulders immediately relax at the feeling of his mother’s ring still on your finger.

“We’re making it official. I don’t care about this pogue bullshit, don’t care about whatever Topper with his crazy bitch or other kooks think about it. I’m not wasting my time anymore.” You smile through happy tears now, looking Rafe in the eyes, seeing that familiar warmth that you were afraid to never experience again. He smirks back at you, holding you tighter against his chest. “No more hiding and lying, yeah, baby? I love you.”

“Y-yes. No more of that stuff. I love you too, Ray.” You giggle before he drags you even closer to kiss you again.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe fic #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x female reader #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron x y/n #obx x reader #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx

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luveline · 5 months ago

Note

hii jade are u going to write something about hotchner!reader and spencer any soon?

—You panic when Spencer’s late for a date. He makes it up to you as best as he can. fem, 2.6k

cw implied past child abuse

You weren’t young when you were adopted, so you were instilled very quickly with the need to be grateful. How lucky you were to be given a second chance at a family. How you owed it to your new family to be the perfect daughter and sister to a father who didn’t like you and two brothers your senior.

Family for you is complicated. It always has been. You didn’t get the unconditional love you’d hoped for in all of them, but you have one older brother who loves you as though you and him are two branches of the same tree, and maybe that’s enough for anyone.

“Yes!” Aaron cheers, jumping up from the bench.

You spin around with a grin that’s half shy, half ecstatic. “I did it!”

Jack runs up to your legs. “You got a strike!”

You pretend to give him a karate chop. “Boosh! Double strike.” You grin as Aaron sizes up the pins down the long ally. “Think your dad can get one before we run out of turns?”

“No!” Jack laughs.

You laugh at his easy answer. His father, determined now in the face of your disbelief, picks up a number twelve ball and stands at the arrows to take his last turn. You brace your hands on Jack’s shoulders and wait for the line to be put down again.

You’re pretty sure he’s throwing his turns to let Jack win. You’d not done the same until you realised the yawning gap in the scores, and maybe you’d feel embarrassed for not noticing if Aaron ever made you feel bad for anything, but he doesn’t.

Your phone rings as he pulls back his arm. You ignore it. “Good luck, dad!” Jack says under your hands.

It’s that good luck that gives Aaron his strike. You cheer with Jack as the ball glides straight into the first pin and veers on a spin toward the third, creating a wave of noise and action as the pins go flying back toward the baseboard.

Aaron turns around with a huge smile. “Jack!”

“You did it!” Jack cheers back. “Not first, but you did!”

You grab your phone from your pocket. “Couldn’t let me have it, could you?” you ask.

“What do you mean?” Aaron picks Jack up from the floor to hold against his chest, pointing at the screen with love. “Look at that, buddy, you won! Can you see that? You got the most points!” Aaron kisses his cheek, high on happiness. “Wow!”

You have two missed calls from Spencer. To Aaron’s begrudgement, you and Spencer are actually going steady. The first attraction didn’t fizzle, the dates turned to dating turned to exclusivity; Spencer Reid is your boyfriend, and he’s supposed to be taking you out to dinner in ten minutes.

“Everything okay?” Aaron asks, creeping closer to you, Jack still in his arms.

“It’s fine, he’s just running late.” You notice his small frown. “His mom’s doctor wanted to talk to him, that’s all.”

“How late is he thinking?”

The plan was you’d go bowling with your family and then meet Spencer outside to eat at the Chinese restaurant just across the parking lot, but it’s not seeming so sure now.

“He said half an hour. I’m pretty hungry,” you say, “he’s gotta speak to a psychiatrist about something. I can’t eat though, right? That’s rude.”

“That’s not rude, honey. You can’t help being hungry as much as he can’t help being late.” As you’d noticed his, he notices your small frown. “You can’t go hungry,” he says with a shrug, “so you’re gonna have to come and eat something, but Spencer can join us when he’s done.”

“Right, because you’ll love that.”

“I’ve been on more dates with him than you have.”

You take Jack as he opens his arms toward you. “I forget. I always think of you as his boss, and not his teammate.”

Aaron grabs Jack’s backpack off of the bench, and your empty cups off of the table to throw away. “I am his boss. Okay, Jack, what do you want for dinner? What sounds good?”

You, Aaron and Jack leave the bowling alley and end up in the Italian restaurant opposite of your originally proposed restaurant. You carry Jack on your hip and text Spencer with your open hand, content to let Aaron guide you through what little foot traffic there is to your table. Aaron sits on one side of the booth with Jack, and you slide into the other side.

Spencer’s texts are getting more and more convoluted. He says he’s sorry, and then he says he has to call someone else, and then he needs to talk to his mom. You nibble your fingernail.

“You okay?”

You nod slowly. “Yeah, uh… Yes, everything’s fine.”

“Is Spencer okay?”

“I think he might cancel.”

Aaron flattens his menu. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I think his mom is having a bad day…”

“What else are you worried about?”

Jack saves you for a moment, “Dad, can I have juice?”

“Yes, sweetheart, I’ll get you juice. Apple juice?”

Jack presses his cheek to Aaron’s arm, earning himself a hug.

“Are you tired?” Aaron whispers.

“No.”

“Okay. Hey, there’s a table over there with some colouring pages and crayons, do you see that? Do you want to do some colouring?”

“Can I go get some?” Jack asks.

“Yes. Don’t bump into anybody, okay?”

The table isn’t far enough to worry, but Aaron splits his attention between Jack and you fairly evenly, just a tad more worry following his son. “Do you wanna talk about it?” Aaron asks.

“You don’t think Spencer would lie, do you?” you ask.

“Lie about his mother? I doubt it very much.”

You trust Aaron, and you trust Spencer too, but Aaron has earned that trust over years and years where Spencer has been gifted it. He hasn’t done anything to break it, but he hasn’t proved he should have it yet either. And really, truly, it isn’t actually about what you believe of Spencer.

You feel a bit nauseous, but your brother is the best person in the world, so you tell him why without preamble, “I’m worried that he’s going to get sick of me.”

“Why would he do that?” Aaron asks.

You scratch at the menu beneath your hand rather than meet his eyes. Because you’re awful. That’s what your father instilled in you, and it’s what you’ve come to learn. Eventually, the people who love you get tired of you. Everyone except Aaron, and isn't that proof of something? He’s the only man good enough to pretend you’re someone worth caring about.

If he could hear your thoughts he’d probably cry. It’s why you’ve struggle to tell him.

You rub your thumb into the side of your index finger, feeling the texture of your skin. “I think people just do.”

Jack returns quickly, with paper and a huge fist full of crayons, though there are four colours altogether. “Well,” Aaron says, helping Jack back into his seat, crayons rolling released from a small fist every which way, “I don't. And Jack doesn’t, Haley doesn’t. I see no reason why Spencer would feel that way.”

“What don’t I do?” Jack asks, frowning at his dad.

“You don’t think Aunt Y/N’s bad at bowling, do you?”

“You’re great at bowling!” Jack's eyes go wide. “I’m gonna make us a photo, to remember. We got strikes!”

You let your face fall into your hand as Aaron strokes hair up the side of Jack’s head. It’s a soothing thing to see, you know the soft touch of his hand well, having been petted and patted through a hundred different bad moments.

Spencer probably isn’t lying about why he’s late, but he could be. You wouldn’t blame him.

“She’s very good at bowling,” Aaron says, hugging Jack to his side. “And so many other things, that’s why we love her. Should we make a list?”

He used to love doing that, too.

Your father wasn’t a nice or kind man. Aaron doesn’t know how it escalated, only knows what happened to him, and how he’d come to see you and you’d burst into tears the second he asked how you were.

If Aaron knew how bad it was at the time he would’ve forced you to leave, but you never told the whole truth. He assumed it to be a mixture of everything —school was awful, dad was worse, and you were more isolated than most.

Make me a list, he’d say.

The first time you didn’t get it. You were a teenager sitting on his couch, his wife in the kitchen, a weight on your chest. What for?

A list of the stuff that’s bothering you.

Do you need a list? you’d asked. He had a knack for knowing more than you could say.

I think we should make one.

You realise now it was a strategy to calm you down. If you could quantify the things that were depressing you, you could begin to understand it, and hopefully dismantle some of the bigger problems. It didn’t always work, but it didn’t matter. It made you feel better just to have you and Aaron on the same couch with a notebook and a number two pencil. Don’t see my brother enough, he’d written with a sad face.

Brother, you’d thought with a secret joy. He’s your brother.

Jack and Aaron make a list they won’t show you. You order drinks and then dinner, waiting for a phone call or a text back you don’t receive. It’s disheartening, and when your pasta arrives, you can barely eat.

“Honey,” Aaron says, “why don’t you go call him? You can see if he’s alright.”

You poke at a shell with a tightly gripped fork. “What if he doesn’t want me to call him? It sounds serious.”

“Maybe that’s why you should call him. I think he’d appreciate it.” He looks like he wants to reach for you, but ultimately, he doesn’t. “Take a minute for yourself, if nothing else. Everything’s okay, I promise.”

“Sorry.”

“For what?” Jack asks.

You smile regretfully. “I’m just feeling confused today, babe. What about you? Are you confused about where your mouth is?” you tease lightly.

Aaron gasps a laugh and reaches over to wipe Jack down with a napkin as you slip from the booth. You take your phone, worrying that Aaron’s eyes are on your back as you pass by the host booth and back out onto the street. The breeze kisses your clammy skin.

Why do you assume that no one really likes you? It’s difficult to comprehend. Your thumb hovers over Spencer’s contact photo, debating, and debating. Should you call him? He might be preoccupied, upset even, and what if you make it worse? But if you don’t call him, you can’t reassure yourself that you’re not in trouble.

He answers on the third trill.

“Hello?” you ask.

“Hey!” There’s a sound like something heavy has been put down. “Hey, I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t be sorry!” you say immediately. “It’s okay. Are you okay?”

Spencer’s voice is a little high and fast, but beside that, he has a nice tenor. When he’s calm and feeling up to it, alone at night with nothing else to do, he’ll read to you from one of his infinite books, his syllables catching and tripping over air as you rub your nose into his arm.

“I’m fine! There was a mixup with some medication at the sanitarium and they realised my mom’s dose of one of her antipsychotics has been charted higher than she was really taking, so she’s been having a hard time, it’s a total mess but I think we have it figured out now. How was bowling?”

“Spencer, are you sure it’s okay?”

“It’s fine.” He laughs softly, not a hint of condescension or derision for you, but an emotion you can’t name. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to take so long.”

“It’s okay.”

“I mean, it’s fine if it’s not okay. I know you can’t help yourself sometimes, but you don’t have to tell me it’s fine if it’s not fine.”

“Uh–” You cough around it. “No, it really is. You can’t help it. Family is important, right?”

“It’s so important. Listen, where are you right now?”

“I’m just standing outside of the Pasta Factory by the bowling alley. I tried to have dinner ‘cos I’m starving, but… I think I lost my appetite.”

“What? Are you okay?”

“I’m having one of those days, I guess?”

“What kind of day?”

His voice is bouncing strangely, as though he’s talking near you. You pause, turning on your heel to look down the few stairs into the parking lot asphalt.

Spencer’s walking up them, a bouquet of roses in his hands.

“Hi,” you say, the phone still pressed to your ear.

Spencer puts his away. “Hi.

His hug is full, all-encompassing and warm as he wraps his arms around you, the bouquet a cacophony of crinkling against your shoulder. He smells like aftershave, his Tom Ford one with the woody tinge that has you pressing your nose into the top of his shoulder to just breathe. Your phone digs into his spine. He doesn’t say anything about it.

“Hey,” he says softly, giving you a similar swaying, back and forth. “I’m sorry I’m late, I had to call them, but it wasn’t fair on you.”

“Spencer,” you say, holding him tightly. “You’re my boyfriend.”

“Don’t sound so unsure.”

“No, but. We can be flexible, right?”

“Of course we can, but I’m still sorry.” He peels back to smile at you, his eyes gently squinted. “So what’s wrong? What’s making it one of those days?”

You can’t explain it to him. He likely doesn’t need you to.

You’re expecting him to pull away —you’re in a public place and affection isn’t his usual expertise— but he doubles down. New boyfriend or not, this hug feels like it’s from somebody who’s loved you for years and years.

“What’s making it a bad day?” he asks quietly.

“I don’t know…” You rub your nose self indulgently against his shoulder.

“Are you sure you have no appetite? Maybe that’s what it is? Stuff tends to feel bigger or more upsetting when we’re hungry because low blood sugar prompts your body to release more hormones that affect your cortisol level, and cortisol plays a big part in how your mind interprets your emotions.” Spencer pulls away, his hand sliding up your shoulder to hold you in place. He grins. “So I think you should still let me take you to dinner. Especially if you didn’t eat much.”

Why would Spencer lie to you? you think, relieved. He wouldn’t. And the idea that he’s going to get sick of you, that’s rooted in bad lessons from a poor situation. It’s not a reflection on you.

“We will,” you decide, “I just have to get my stuff. I left my bag, and Jack’s writing me a list.”

“What list?”

“A list of stuff I’m good at.”

He doesn’t waver. “Really? Can I add stuff too?” You turn your nose up in an unsubtle prompting, satisfied when Spencer gives you a quick, smiling kiss. “Sorry,” he says, though his apology is distracted by a fond undertone, “I missed you.”

You receive a few more gentle kisses for all your worries, and you begin to feel better. Spencer presses the roses into your hand and encourages you into the restaurant with his hand spread behind your back.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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rhaenyra-storms · 6 months ago

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Hi! Hello! So obsessed with Cregan too! Your fic with the direwolf pup was so precious, I loved it!

But, what about a lil something where Cregan steals kisses from his wife throughout the day whenever they see one another in the castle ?

thank you so much!! your idea is so adorable too and i loved writing it!

pairing: cregan stark x f!reader warnings: clingy cregan, just fluff, reader is shorter than cregan words: 1044

"M'lady, would you prefer beef or mutton for dinner tonight?"

A servant peeked into the room, the hint of a smile on his face. You had been stitching a few holes in your husband's pants, insisting to do it yourself. Cregan always managed to get them to tear open when he was out on a hunt. It was a small gesture from your side to fix them yourself.

"Beef would be nice. Thank you." You smiled back at the older servant before he bowed quickly and left you alone once more. However, you quickly realised that you were still supposed to send a raven to your mother. The pants could wait for a moment longer, so you placed them down on your bed before you headed out into the hallway.

The tall man at the end of the hallway, still with his back turned to you, would be recognised by you almost anywhere. Your husband was talking to one of the smith's new apprentices. Cregan was a kind lord to all his subjects and whenever he could, he loved to make a little conversation with them.

As soon as the young boy spotted you, he bowed briefly.

"Lady Stark."

Cregan turned around then, a smile already on his lips. He wasn't afraid to show his affection outside of your personal chambers, so his arm sneaked easily around your waist, pulling you in closer to himself.

He kept his attention on the boy though, giving him a polite nod. "It was nice talking to you. I am sure we'll talk again in the following weeks."

"Of course, my lord. It was my pleasure." He bowed once more before he hastened down the steps into the main hall, leaving you and your husband alone.

"Where were you going, my love?" Cregan asked curiously then, taking the time to grab your hips with both hands as you stood before him. You tilted your head up a little, looking at your tall husband. "Just wanted to send a raven to my mother. We haven't talked in a while and I wanted her to visit soon."

He smiled softly, giving you a nod. "You know she's always welcome here in Winterfell. I'd love to have her and your father around soon."

His right hand moved up to cup your chin gently, pulling your head a little closer to press a kiss against your lips. As always, you exchanged more than just one quick peck, leaning into your husband, hands planted on his strong chest.

A giggle escaped your lips when he turned you around, pressing your back against the stone wall behind you.

It took a few more moments until you were able to separate from each other.

"I could do this all day, darling. But I still need to work and-"

You stopped him as you placed a soft hand on his cheek. His skin was always warm and you could feel him leaning into your touch as he looked at you in the dim-lit hallway. Cregan's eyes would always be a beautiful sight to you.

"We're going to see each other for dinner and then we can have the whole evening to ourselves," you assured him, stealing one last kiss off his lips. He seemed satisfied enough with your response and made sure to press his lips against the back of your hand one more time before you parted ways.

You weren't really sure how much of a coincidence it was when you were on your way back from the Maester later in the day and ran into your husband in the courtyard.

Wasn't he out hunting just an hour earlier?

It didn't matter to you though when he wrapped his hand around yours and pulled you to the side gently. His lips were on yours quicker than you could realise, a surprised laughter making its way out of your mouth.

Your hands flew up to grab his hair for a moment as his big hands rested on the small of your back.

A tension started to build in your stomach and you pressed your body more against your husband's, desperate to savour the moment as much as you could. He had probably been waiting for you somehow and you were glad that he did. Getting to kiss him throughout the day was the greatest pleasure you could imagine.

"Cregan," you laughed softly when he continued to plant a few kisses on your right cheek. "You know we're supposed to be going after our tasks?" His arms had wrapped tightly around your waist, his scent filling your nose. He smelled like the pines outside Winterfell, something you'd always recognise about him.

"I know, love. But you're making my day sweeter with this." His voice had turned a little rough as he whispered in your ear, shivers running down your spine as a response. Your hands slid under his cloak and you pressed yourself closer to your husband once more.

You met gazes again as you looked up, Cregan's eyes undeniably filled with adoration. How did you get so lucky?

"I love you, Cregan. And you're right, it's making my day sweeter too. As long as I can steal a kiss from you every now and then, being the Lady of Winterfell does not get boring at all," you whispered, pecking his lips again. Could you ever get enough of this? Could he ever get enough of this?

Some people might describe your husband as a very serious man. But whenever he smiled, you felt like there was nothing bad in the world that mattered. He smiled at you all the time and it made you feel like the most important part of his world.

"Every kiss the Lady of Winterfell can grant me is sacred to me," he whispered as he took your hand and brought it up to his mouth. His lips brushed over your knuckles gently, leaving a trail of warmth behind as he moved up to your wrist with his mouth.

He manoeuvred your hand to his cheek slowly, letting it rest there before he connected your lips once more.

All your days could go past like this for the rest of your life and you would be the happiest woman in the world.

#cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #cregan stark headcanons #hotd #hotd imagine #cregan stark x you #cregan stark x y/n #cregan stark fanfic #cregan stark imagine #cregan stark fan fiction #cregan stark fanfiction #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #hotd fan fiction #house of the dragon headcanons #hotd headcanons

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johannestevans · 5 days ago

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A Transphobe Ruined His Own Night Because I Was Existing Next to Him

Hate is a miserable business — but in this case, not for me!

Originally published here in Prism & Pen.

My partner and I went to DILF Leeds for the first time this week — DILF, which obviously stands for Dad I’d Like To Fuck, is a regular gay dance night that runs here in the UK. It runs all over, in Manchester and London and a bunch of other cities, as well as more locally to us in Leeds.

I will be the first to say that dance music is not my vibe as a rule, and a lot of the DJing unfortunately struck me as closer to noise than music — we’d meant to go before but had to miss the event, so we were really excited to go this week. I did have a significant moment of doubt when I realised that the event started at ten o’clock, because despite the night being aimed at older men particularly, I am in my heart much more tired and crotchety than any of them could be, but we went along.

We arrived just as the night opened, and a few guys were stripping out of their day gear into their club gear underneath, or were changing into it.

We logged all our stuff in the cloakroom, and to begin with I didn’t strip down too much — my partner stripped down to his Christmas suspenders and jock strap earlier on, and once it was a good deal busier (and thus a lot warmer), I stripped down to my colourful flared trousers and my leather vest.

There’s honestly so few nights and spaces that are so beautifully liberated as nights like these. There were some men that stayed fully-clothed the whole of the time, either in colourful Christmas or holiday jumpers, or in their jeans and their novelty t-shirts — with basic but emphatic slogans like SLUT, or a good favourite of ours for the evening, FEED ME TO THE BEARS — but a lot of people were dressed in fetish and clubbing gear.

Rubber suits, leather and latex harnesses, jockstraps, lingerie, beautiful underwear and bodysuits, leather collars and fetish gear — and even more exciting than the diversity of the outfits (including those in just their birthday suits) was the diversity of the bodies in the room.

A reason we were interested in DILF rather than a random gay club night was that it focuses explicitly and specifically on celebrating different men’s bodies beyond the twink and the twunk — DILFs and daddies and older men; bears and and otters and bulls, fat men and big muscle men, and all the men in between.

They also have a very explicitly inclusive policy when it comes to trans men:

1. DILF creates events for like-minded queer men (including gay, bi + trans men) and male presenting non-binary people over 18 years old to celebrate + express themselves. 2. There’s no room for racism, homophobia, biphobia, transphobia, body shaming or any other kind of hate speech and intolerance at DILF’s events. — (From their website.)

And I saw other trans men too, not to mention that apart from having a wider variety of weights and sizes in the men in attendance, there were a lot more brown and Black men than I often see at events in Bradford and Leeds, and it’s obvious that DILF does more than just pay lip service to the idea of diversity, in their organisers and staff, in their promo photos, and in their target audience for attendees.

I also brought my cane with me and spent a good part of the night either sitting down or leaning against a wall or surface, and I got no comments on it, nor even any funny looks, honestly. I cannot readily recollect a night where I’ve gone out and danced with my cane to hand, where no one’s been a dick about it, but also where I’ve genuinely let myself rest enough through the course of the night that I’m in less pain at the end of the night than I am at the beginning.

The night was good.

It was a busy night, it was a busy night full of sexy men, while the music was not my thing one could mostly dance along to it, and it was sexy as Hell. People were grinding on one another, making out, but obviously it was a cruising night as much as a dance night, so while no one was getting bent over and reamed over a bar table — not that I saw, anyway, but perhaps we left too early to enjoy it — but people were giving and receiving blowjobs, handjobs, and frotting a good bit, which one does love to see.

I don’t know what it was that made this dude clock me — I haven’t had top surgery and was only in a leather vest worn open, but my tits are fairly small and given that he was a much bigger man than I am, his were far bigger than mine are. It might have been my chest, it might have been that I had short hair, it might have been that because I was wearing eyeliner and colourful trousers he thought I was nonbinary — who knows? Who cares?

But this fella turns to me and says something to the effect of, “You know this is an event for gay men, right?”

And my partner and I were like, “Uh… Yeah? Duh?”

“Men who are GAY.” And I didn’t initially understand what his problem was, and just sort of looked at him very blankly, whereupon he very snottily said, “Hmph, good luck!” and turned away.

What followed was an interesting exercise in creating one’s own misery.

My partner and I sort of looked at one another with the typical, “What’s her problem?” look one often witnesses in gay clubs like this one when someone’s being a bit of a prick without an apparent reason, and then as we sort of half-observed, we watch this guy go to the friends he was with and complain whilst pointing in my direction. We obviously couldn’t hear what he was saying over the music, but he started with his friends, and then spoke to a few others… and then a few other random guys after that.

All of them, to a man, glanced in my direction, and then gave their mate a look like, “Um… okay? So?”

Thus adding to his frustration and apparently spurring him on to complain to the next man at the audacity of a gay man at this gay men’s event that he didn’t personally approve of.

Several of his mates continued to chat and make small talk with us here and there throughout the night, exchanged horny and admiring looks, et cetera and so on — and this guy’s temper tantrum obviously made no significant change to my night whatsoever.

No one gave a fuck that I was trans — they might have thought my outfit was a bit odd because I wasn’t in nicer fetish gear because I just don’t have any yet beyond some sexy assless underwear and I haven’t yet gotten hold of a harness for myself, but like I said, there were other trans men present, other effete and effeminate men, other guys who were on the skinnier side. On no point was I unique in the room — and people still flirted here and there, had conversations, and so on.

The only night this guy really impacted for himself was his own — focusing on some dude he didn’t want to be present rather than being flirty and having genuine fun with other men, and also embarrassing himself to all his friends, who all kept glancing at him with the same glance of, “Girl, what?” whenever he apparently worked himself up again.

The thing about the anti-trans obsession in recent years is that it’s a fixation on other people’s existence and behaviour that doesn’t impact you in any way — until this guy had made that comment to me, I hadn’t even said hello to him. We were just sitting on the same bench against the wall, and one of his friends had been laughing while helping my partner off with his skinny jeans, all in good fun.

He didn’t get everyone baying for my removal, or complaining about it to staff, or anything else. He didn’t get any of them to get out pitchforks or start burning trans effigies.

He got secondhand embarrassment on his behalf, because he was making himself look ridiculous to his friends because of his obsession with trans people, actively lowering their opinion of him and for what? The one trans dude he noticed vibing nearby, with no direct interaction with him at all that he hadn’t started?

If I was going to be cruising and fucking anybody, it’s not like he had to partake with me! There were plenty of guys to choose from!

This man was in his fifties or so, I would estimate, so by the time he was old enough to be exploring his own sexuality, being gay would have been legal, but he would have been living through the worst of the AIDs crisis, and certainly, a night like DILF would never have been able to be so openly advertised, nor I doubt as well attended or put on as often as it can be today. It’s always funny when I see such silly and self-sabotaging bigotry from men who are old enough and more than experienced enough to know better, but in the meantime, like…

I’m glad I still had a good night, and I’m honestly so pleased to have attended an event where the common consensus was very obviously at this dude’s problem rather than against the trans minority, especially when the world so often feels like it’s the other way around.

It’s a nice reminder that as vocal as they can be with their whinging and complaining, the bigots aren’t the majority they’d like us to believe they are.

#musings #transphobia #trans men #ftm #leeds

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sweetfushi · 6 months ago

Text

CONFESSING TO THEM

fluff | tengen uzui, kyojuro rengoku, sanemi shinazugawa x reader, reader nearly dies, tengen has three wives and you're tryna become his fourth | word count. 1.4k

TENGEN UZUI.

You know he’s married, thrice too. But sitting next to Tengen and watching him observe the Koi in the pond, a subtle smile on his face, warms your chest. You don’t realise that you’d started gazing at him longingly until he catches you, turning to you with a big grin. The beads of his headpiece rattled in the wind alongside your flowing hair.

“Tengen,” you start, voice meek and apprehensive, “I know you’re… married, but um, I don’t think I can continue our friendship if I don’t tell you.” At this point, your voice trails off into a whisper he has to lean in to hear. You almost outwardly giggle at the close proximity.

“You like me, huh?”

“What? Did you– have you known all along?” You huff and grab a nearby pebble to throw at him, only for it to bounce off his bicep in the midst of his snickers.

“I’d feel bad for you if you had tried to be subtle about it,” Tengen teases, leaning in closer until your faces are centimetres apart. When he sees your flushed expression, he shakes his head and rests his right cheek on his fist. “I can’t blame ya for failing though, it was hard for me too.”

You sit upright. “Wait, what?”

“Y’re pretty ditzy today, eh?”

You’re tempted to slash the charming smirk off his face. For the first time since the conversation started, you lock eyes with him (albeit having to almost painfully crane your neck to do so). From the way he maintains your gaze and lets you witness the boyish glint in his eyes, you’re convinced he isn’t lying to you with what he’s implying.

“I’ve had my eye on you for a while now,” he admits, stretching his arms. “So I’m glad you’re not threatened by the idea.”

You purse your lips. “How are you going to deal with four wives?”

Tengen glances at you from the corner of his eye, grinning. “You mean it’s harder than handling three? My wives are my partners, not liabilities. You’d be no different.”

You lower your head to hide your impending smile, though he catches your expression even when you don’t think he does. If anything, he’s eager to witness more of your excitement. He finds it adorable that you can barely look him in the eye, even when he gets on one knee in front of you. He’s not proposing - your conversation already acted as one - instead, he wants to see your face. Tengen wants to see what he’s doing to you.

“Ring or necklace?” He asks.

You contemplate it before telling him your choice.

“Consider it done.”

KYOJURO RENGOKU.

“You must eat,” Rengoku tells you in that booming voice of his. He’s already scoffing down two of the bentos that had been provided to him by the cooks, but you had barely touched your food. You were starving, but your nerves overshadowed your hunger.

“I will,” you nod.

A minute goes by and all that is heard is Rengoku’s small comments on the food; tasty, yummy, delicious, incredible. Whenever he stares at you, you nod and smile along with him, but you notice his smile drop slightly further every time he does look at you.

“Is something the matter?” He chimes in, disturbing your racing thoughts. At this point, he’s stopped eating and is just waiting for you to answer, but for the past ten minutes you had been trying to plot how to go about telling him. I’ll never end up telling him at this point, you realise. So, you sip some of your water, place it back down on the coaster and lift your head to face him directly.

“I like you, Rengoku.”

For a moment, it’s silent. “And I don’t want that to make what we have weird, I even considered not telling you because I don’t wanna lose you, but if I don’t tell you it feels like I’m lying to you–”

“You stress too much,” he smiles, watching your throat bob as you swallow thickly. The flame hashira can sense your impending tears and feels oddly honoured that he had the ability to make them happy or sad ones.

Now that you reflect on what you’ve just done, you perhaps should have waited until the two of you - or he at least - had finished eating. Feelings like this are hard to stomach, especially from one hashira to another. While you’re contemplating your confession, you feel his gaze burn into you and, somehow, you find the strength within yourself to not avoid it.

“I’m sorry, I’ll pay for our food as compensation–”

“Compensation for what?” He laughs, your heart aching at the sight of such a brightly lit expression. “If anything, I need to eat more from how overjoyed I am.”

You pause. “Overjoyed?”

“That might be an understatement, but I can’t find the words at the moment,” he admits, that smile still stuck on his face. What you had yet to realise throughout these two years was that Rengoku had admired you the most out of everyone he had met. Yes, Tengen was flashy and Tokito was level-headed, but out of all the esteemed hashira, his flame had been ignited the most around you. Only now could he let it burn as it wished.

“I like you too, very much.”

SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA.

“Stop looking like that,” he taps the blunt side of his katana on your arm, knocking you out of your daze - the daze you had been in the entirety of this dispatch. It wasn’t anything major, a few rowdy demons that have been unsettling the village near to the woods you were currently in, but Sanemi had insisted that he accompany you for it.

“Sorry,” you mumble, sheathing your own katana after having wiped it clean of blood.

Sanemi eyes you for a moment. He knows you’re mature enough to handle yourself and manage your emotions, though he’s come to realise that it doesn’t mean you should be left to do so. So, the scarred hashira doesn’t prod further. Not until you fail to register the unexpected demon launching at you from behind, teeth bared and eyes maniacal.

“You’re askin’ to be killed, damn it!” He finally yells, his brows furrowed from the sheer adrenaline and anxiety he just endured. Sanemi never truly yells at you unless he’s unmistakably upset, so his raised voice makes your lips part and your eyes widen with a late registry of what risk you had induced.

“You wanna be in your feelings? Fine, just don’t do it when you’re out to work! At this rate, we’ll need backup just to make sure your reckless ass is bein’ protected with those villagers!” He’s breathing heavily at this point, his face in yours as he heaves and trembles.

Sanemi is still unsettled even when the two of you finally return to base, washing up and filling your stomachs during the last few hours before you’d call it a day. When you wander out into the pond gardens, your arms crossed over your chest to shield yourself from the night’s breeze, you almost turn the other direction when you spot Sanemi squatting at the edge of one of the smaller pools of water. He’s skipping rocks, watching them dance across the water, or occasionally fail to do so and fall into the pond or onto a lilypad instead.

“Don’t try and avoid me now,” he sighs guiltily, observing his reflection in the water momentarily before rising to his feet and turning to face you. “I shouldn’t…” he scratches the back of his neck. He’s not used to apologising for something he usually does so casually. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” he confesses.

“No, I’m glad you did,” you admit, licking your lips. “I like you too much for you to act like you don’t care about me. You’ve noticed, surely.”

Sanemi isn’t sure he has noticed. That thought alone made him kiss his teeth - had he been so distracted by his own feelings to notice yours? The question raided his mind for a few moments while you, unbeknownst to him, watched as his lips pursed and his cheeks flushed a light pink.

Was he seriously blushing? This is so uncharacteristic of him, you think, a smile finally gracing your lips for the first time that day. For a moment, you’re more invested in him blushing than you are in the acknowledgement that he reciprocates your feelings.

He walks over to you, the gravel crunching beneath his shoes. He doesn’t stop until his chest almost touches yours and his face is so close to yours that you can feel the warmth of his breath. “I’m g’nna kick your ass for today,” he scoffs. “After I take you out…” he almost looks angry at his own embarrassment.

sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post in any way. all that is included in this post, aside from the fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).

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wheeboo · 13 days ago

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pamper | lee chan

SYNOPSIS. in which you give your boyfriend a bath. PAIRING. lee chan x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship WARNINGS. chan gets... naked. yeah, suggestive undertones, slight allusions to sex, terms of endearment, just pampering (and teasing) chan :( because he deserves it WORD COUNT. 2k

notes: there's this reddit post that occasionally comes up when i scroll thru pinterest abt a guy's girlfriend giving him a bath and how much he felt loved from it :(( idk why it stuck w me i just find it so so cute adfjldsfj

"Take off your clothes."

Chan's eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, mouth dropped to the floor at your sudden bold request.

"You want me to what?" His voice cracks mid-sentence as he feels the rush of heat already painting his cheeks. He's staring at as if you've just asked him to commit a crime.

You roll your eyes. "Get your mind out of the gutter, babe. I just want to give you a bath because you smell like a gym locker room."

Chan blinks at you like your words aren't fully processing in his brain, still frozen in place.

"I-I can just shower. Alone. You know... like a normal person," he mumbles sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

You smirk, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom. "Where's the fun in that? Can I not pamper my boyfriend every once in a while?"

Chan opens his mouth to argue, but when he catches sight of the way you're standing there, arms crossed and giving him that playful, yet determined look, his words fall short at the end of his tongue, shoulders slumping like he's accepting defeat.

He lets out a sigh, and you watch as he starts to pull off the maroon-coloured hoodie he was wearing over his head, the fabric briefly getting caught on his head before he yanks it off, tossing it carelessly onto the floor. His eyes flit nervously to you, waiting for any sign of judgment, but you’re just watching him with a teasing smile.

"Stop staring at me like that," Chan mutters nervously, and you can see the way he seems to shrink in his shell under your gaze.

"Like what?" You quip playfully, stepping a bit closer to him.

"Like..." he starts, face turning even redder, deeper than the colour of his hoodie. "Like you're... I dunno𑁋gonna pounce on me or something."

"I will pounce on you if you don't get your clothes off in the next two minutes."

"I𑁋Fine," Chan grumbles, giving into his fate. He strips off his shirt next, revealing his toned torso, defined abs that show all the work he's put into over time, and you can't help but let your gaze linger for just a moment. His muscles flex subtly as he moves, and the way his eyes flicker to yours for reassurance tells you everything you need to know𑁋he's still a little unsure, but he trusts you. He's never once doubted that.

His hands now fumble clumsily with the button of his jeans. You stand there, arms still crossed, watching him with a smirk, your eyes softening as you notice how shy he's being. It's cute𑁋adorable, even𑁋and you can't help but feel a flutter of affection for him.

"This is so weird," he groans out.

"Weird?" You fully step up to him now, placing a set of reassuring hands on his shoulders, before drifting upwards to cup his cheek affectionately. "I'm your partner and you're my boyfriend. We do weird things together, okay? Now, chop, chop. You stink."

There's a breath that escapes him that he doesn't realise he's been holding. Chan leans into your touch instinctively, body relaxing at your words. He gives a nod as you pull away, letting him slip his pants and his boxers off until they pool right at his ankles, and with a bit of a bashful glance toward you, he kicks them off to the side.

You can't help the grin to your face as you ogle him just a little bit, his unease still there but softening with each moment. He's standing in front of you, completely exposed, but there's no judgment in your gaze𑁋only adoration, this need to take care of him after all the times he's done so for you.

"Alright, pretty boy." You face him around, bringing him in the direction of the tub. "Sit."

Your hand grazes against the contours of his back as you flip on the tub, letting warm water slowly fill in from the faucet. Chan doesn't let his eyes stray too far away from you as you pour some bath salts into the water𑁋you really went all out for this, he thinks𑁋the comforting scent of lavender curling through the warm air.

Briefly, Chan hesitates, standing just shy of stepping in, but you can see the small glint of trust in his eyes. Slowly, he steps into the tub, the warm water enveloping his legs and around his torso as he lowers himself. The magic of the water seems to already be working, his muscles soothing the moment he's almost submerged.

A sigh of contentment slips past his lips.

"Not too hot?" You ask as you kneel beside the tub, dipping your hand into the water to check the temperature.

"Hmm, it's... it's good," he breathes out, eyes fluttering to the feeling, leaning back against the tub. "It's perfect."

A pleased smile spreads across your face. Reaching for the loofah, you squirt some body wash on it, taking a moment to simply admire him.

He looks so peaceful, and your heart flutters at the thought of him letting himself be this vulnerable around you. Letting you take care of him in a way that's just so intimate.

"Can you move up a little?" You request lightly. "Gonna start with your back."

As Chan adjusts himself, you lather the loofah up, before tenderly guiding it over his shoulders and down his back, leaving a trail of soapy bubbles in its wake. You let your gaze wash over him, taking in the sight of his bare back and the way the water clings to his skin. You let the loofah glide over the muscles that have worked tirelessly through long hours and hectic days.

Chan's eyes fall to a close, a soft hum of appreciation from your careful touches.

"This... this feels nice," he murmurs lowly. "You're really good at this."

You twitch a brow at his words. "Yeah? I sure hope so." When you finish lathering up his shoulders and back, you clear your throat to ask, "Can I... do your chest now?"

Chan's breath hitches at your question, your voice even coming out shaky and shy as well. His fingers curl slightly against the edge of the tub, and he glances at you, searching your expression for any hint of teasing or judgment. But all he finds is the softness of your smile and the warmth in your eyes.

"Y-Yeah..." he finally answers, turning himself around for you. "Go ahead."

Your heart skips a beat at that, and you dip the loofah back into the water before you tentatively reach out to glide it over his chest. The moment the sponge touches his skin, you feel the subtle shift in his posture𑁋his body tensing slightly, but not out of discomfort.

You can't help the way your eyes flicker down his chest, the way the water traces the fine lines of his abs and the soft curve of his collarbone as you continue your task.

Chan sucks in a breath when your hand trails closer to his stomach, and the subtle tension in his body only deepens as you reach further down. He's trying to play it cool, but his face betrays him𑁋flushed, eyes half-lidded, biting his bottom lip. You could only smirk to yourself, a quiet satisfaction bubbling up within you.

"Just relax," You coo reassuringly. "I've got you."

"Easy for you to say," he counters with a pout. "You're not the one who's... naked in a bathtub right now."

You snort at his comment, shaking your head as you rinse out the loofah in the water. "Yeah, right, because I'm the lucky one who gets to enjoy the view."

A half-laugh, half-groan leaves him, and he immediately shifts his gaze away from you, but he knows you'll never let go of the way the tips of his ears are firing up.

"You're going to be the death of me," he mutters under his breath.

"And I'd be honoured," You retort back, lightly splashing water over him to get rid of the suds all over his body. When you finish, you run a playful hand through the strands of his hair. "Now to tackle this little mop of yours."

Chan relaxes his back against the tub as you lather his hair with some shampoo, deft fingers massaging into his scalp with nothing but care. His eyelids fall to a close once again, and he can't help the thought that he feels just so loved right now.

Never once has he been treated this gently ever, and it makes his heart swell to the brink of overflowing.

Your fingers work their magic, threading through his damp hair and scrubbing away any remnants of stress from his day. Chan leans into your touch without thinking, a low, content hum slipping past his lips. It's a sound so soft, so vulnerable, that it makes your chest tighten.

"You doing okay?" You ask him, angling your head to get a view of his face.

"Mmhm..." he breathes out. "Feels... nice. Really nice."

You smirk at that, slowing your ministrations a little to lean in and press a kiss to the top of his shoulder, and another one to his neck. His head tilts instinctively to your affection, and you smile against his skin, before pressing one last peck to the sweet spot of his nape.

"My pretty boy," You murmur softly, smiling at the way his skin flushes under your affection.

Chan shivers at the words, the sweetness coated on them wrapping around him like a warm blanket. His chest feels tight, but in the best way possible. His limbs feel numb, like they're floating, but he doesn't mind, because he knows that you'll always be there to catch him.

As you start to rinse his hair, he calls out, "Babe?"

"Mhm?"

"I love you." The simple words leaves his mouth all too quick, but then he adds, "Like... so in love with you that I think I might explode one day."

You chuckle at that and give his hair one last rinse before turning your attention back to him.

"Drama queen," You remark teasingly, but the features to your face only soften when his eyes meet yours. There's a twinkle in them that you pinpoint, and it most certainly is not from the light of the bathroom. "I love you too, Channie. More than you know."

For the rest of the bath, it's peaceful. You continue washing and pampering him with tender care, your fingers gently massaging his scalp, his back, his shoulders, and even the spots on his neck that are particularly sensitive.

When you finish, you retrieve a towel and wrap it around your boyfriend, carefully patting him dry. His hair shoots up in all sorts of directions, body shivering slightly from the cold air hitting his skin as you guide him out of the tub. He nearly slips on the wet floor, but you manage to catch him just in time, steadying him by the hips.

"Alright, big baby." You give him a soft squeeze on his waist. "Let me get you some clothes to change into."

When you lead him back into the bedroom, Chan plops down at the edge of the bed, observing as you rummage through the closet and drawers for a fresh set of clothes.

"So..." Chan starts, a thoughtful look painting his face. "When can I return the favour?"

You turn to him with a suspicious brow, tossing a clean pair of boxers to his face. "You're seriously thinking about that right now?"

"I𑁋Not in that way!" Then he bites at his lip, suppressing a boastful grin. "I mean..."

You take a few gigantic steps over to him, tossing his clothes on the bed before placing your hands on his shoulders and leaning in close to his face. He glances down at your lips briefly, throat tightening as you draw nearer to him.

"You can pay me back with kisses and cuddles," You tease, lips hovering just inches before his, and the need only spikes higher within him. "But right now, tonight, it's all about you. So get comfortable, pretty boy."

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fastandcarlos · 3 months ago

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Bottom Of The Pack : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

summary: how does it feel to be bottom of the list of your boyfriends' priorities?

Your body was numb as you heard Oscar call through your home, letting you know that he was there. There was no response from you, no movement or sound, Oscar’s eyebrows knitting together in confusion as he walked further into the apartment to try and find you.

It was as his eyes landed in the kitchen though, finding two plates of cold food up on the counter that Oscar realised why he was on the receiving end of such a frosty response from you, his body dropping in disappointment in himself.

Your efforts that evening were huge to try and organise something nice for you and Oscar, only for him to text at the last minute to tell you he couldn’t make it. A few of his colleagues at work had suggested heading out to bond before the start of the new season and Oscar didn’t have it in him to say no.

“Hi,” he nervously smiled, taking a seat on the sofa that was opposite you. “Sorry that I didn’t come home, it’s just work things, you know how it is.”

“No, I don’t think I really do,” you shrugged, your voice blunt.

It didn’t come as a surprise to Oscar, realising as soon as he walked through the door just how much he’d upset you. There were so many plates that he was having to spin, he didn’t quite know how to make sure that they were all balanced.

“I really am sorry sweetheart,” Oscar spoke, trying to move closer towards you, only for you to move away.

You soon picked up your phone, scrolling through some unanswered messages as you blocked out Oscar beside you, pretending to not even notice that he was in the room, deciding not to even give him the time of day.

Oscar sat apprehensively for a while, hoping for some sort of breakthrough, but you gave him nothing. As time passed, Oscar became more frustrated as he tried to get through to you. You knew exactly what you were doing, almost enjoying making Oscar suffer beside you.

“Is this how it’s going to be now? We’re just going to sit here in silence for the night.”

“I’m fine with that,” you shrugged, not even bothering to look up and across at Oscar.

A sigh came from Oscar as his hands brushed over the front of his face. “I’ve said that I’m sorry, I don’t know what else I can do. If I knew that you were planning on cooking for the two of us then I never would’ve done, but I just assumed that you’d sort yourself out instead.”

You finally placed your phone down, glancing across at Oscar. “It’s not just about tonight, this is how it’s been for weeks. I appreciate you’ve got a lot of priorities right now, but I constantly feel like I’m bottom of the pack, like I’m nothing.”

“You’re not nothing, you’re the most important person in my life.”

You couldn’t help but scoff as Oscar spoke, feeling as if you had a role that was the complete opposite to the one that he assured you of. It killed Oscar seeing you dismiss him like that, not believing in what he had to say.

“I don’t mean to make you feel as if you’re not significant in my life,” Oscar sighed, his voice a lot calmer than before. “You’re the person that I enjoy spending time with more than anyone else in the world.”

“Really? Then where were you tonight?” You asked, keeping your voice as flat as possible. “When was the last time we actually spent time together? Not at work? Not with other people? Just us?

As Oscar thought, the realisation hit him. He couldn’t remember the last time, the last time that he actually managed to find some time for his own girlfriend.

Oscar stood up from his seat and walked over, taking a seat beside you. “I want to spend time with you, I want to be here with you. I want to be able to put things right and realign my priorities.”

“That’s not just something you say, it’s something you do,” you reminded Oscar, unable to take his words as a guarantee. “I don’t want to be everything Oscar, but I want to be something.”

Oscar nodded, taking in everything that you said. He slowly wrapped his arms around your figure, relieved when you allowed him to hold onto you rather than just pushing him away.

“You are everything, I promise,” Oscar whispered against the side of your head, “I would never be in the position that I’m in right now if it wasn’t for you and all that you do for me.”

Slowly Oscar felt you relax into his hold, his heart full of relief that you were at least starting to relax around him, even if he still had plenty of making up to do to make things right again.

“Sorry isn’t enough, I’ve been stupid and blind to see how I’ve been treating you recently,” Oscar murmured, keeping his voice quiet. “I don’t expect you to trust me right now, but I want you to know that things are going to change, you are, you always have been, my number one.”

“You know I’ve always supported you Oscar, but I’m not going to keep supporting you if I don’t get something in return. We’re supposed to be a team.”

Oscar continued to nod, understanding everything that you were saying to him. He wasn’t naive to it anymore, he knew what he had done and how much hurt he had caused you, without even realising that he was doing it.

“We’re going to spend more time together, starting tomorrow I’m going to make sure that I finish work earlier, get home more often and spend time with you. You’re going to feel like the most important person in my life, because that is exactly who you are my love.”

You smiled weakly across at Oscar as his hand cupped the side of your face, bringing your face towards him as he placed the gentlest of kisses against your lips.

It was a simple kiss, but it meant more to Oscar than he could describe. It was the moment he needed to know that he had a chance, that although you were mad at him, you were still going to be there with him. It didn’t quite say all is forgiven yet, but Oscar knew that was never going to be the case just yet.

“You know, I think I would’ve preferred to come home to you tonight anyway, the team dinner was boring,” Oscar confided, a faint chuckle coming from him too.

“They won’t speak to you again at work if you tell them that,” you reminded him, “you know how dedicated Zak is to only the best team building events.”

Oscar shrugged as a glimmer of a smile appeared on your face too. “I’ll tell him myself, tell him he’s got to come up with something better to stop me from coming home and spending time with my girlfriend next time.”

Your head shook, although Oscar meant every word. It would take something special for him to not spend his time with you anymore, not when he saw how close he got to losing you.

“I don’t know if I’ve said it enough tonight, but I really am sorry,” Oscar reminded you once again, feeling your hand rest over his.

“You don’t need to keep saying sorry Oscar, I know how sorry you are.”

“I know...I just...really mean it.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

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dinogoofymutated · 7 months ago

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Kissin and shit - Morph, Colossus, Gambit, Quicksilver. Heehee. here they be! I might or might not do more. It really depends bc I'm doing these as a writing exercise more than anything lol. TWS: Alcohol consumption mentioned, lots of overly enthusiastic smooching. Sexual references but no smut.

Morph

“I love you- I love you so, so much” Morph doesn't have a minute to reply to you as you kiss them senselessly. Every once in a while when you separate to breathe, they try to speak, only for you to interrupt them with more kisses each time. Morph hums in a confused but happy sort of way. You’ve basically thrown yourself onto them, kissing them again and again until they loose their balance and the two of you topple backwards. The moment you realise you’re falling your hands slide behind their head to cushion the fall, and after a wide-eyed moment of shock both of you are laughing.

You kiss all over their face, eyelids, cheeks, that little bump where their nose would be- and you don’t stop even as they start to fully fall victim to their laughter. God- did you love that sound! You catch their lips in a kiss again, and they hum in appreciation, panting when you finally pull away with a genuine smile on their face.

“Not sure what I did to deserve that, but can you tell me so I can do it again?”

Colossus

Piotr is struggling to keep up with your fiery, passionate kisses. He’s just a quiet as he always is, but you can feel his chest heaving against your own. His breath hitches as you drag your teeth across his bottom lip, before moving your kisses down his neck. You’re gentle with your kisses and nips- lavishing him with all of your love. He’s still silent, not a sound leaving his mouth, but you can feel his large hands squeeze around you just slightly.

“Piotr? Are you okay?” You ask when you finally pull away. He’s more red than you’ve ever seen him before, flushed from his ears and all the way down his neck. He doesn’t respond to you at first, his blown pupils looking back and fourth from your lips to your eyes a he fights the urge to pull you closer and kiss you until the next morning.

“Yes… Yes. More than okay.”

Gambit

“You’re so drunk.” You giggle, hands buried in Remy’s hair before he pulls you into another drunken kiss. They’re wet, messy, and sloppy kisses, but you can’t seem to get enough of them. You can taste the alcohol on his toungue as it slides against your own, feeling the slight sting of the taste.

“Pot callin’ the kettle black, Cher. You’re just as drunk as I am.” Remy chuckles, having pulled away for just a split second before you reel him back in again, your skin buzzing with delight from the feeling of his body against yours. His hands drift down to your thighs before he’s hiking one up against his hip.

So what if you were both a little drunk? To be honest, even if you were sober, you knew that the two of you would still have ended up in the same place you are now- smoochin.

Quicksilver

“We really need to get going.” You say, and yet you’re still kissing Pietro, holding onto his tie that he hadn’t even been able to put on before the two of you had gotten carried away. He snorts a laugh against your lips, picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist in a split second, his lips hardly leaving yours the entire time.

“To what? Father’s stupid gala? We have plenty of time.” Pietro sighs, pressing his forehead against your own, pretty, white lashes resting against his cheekbones with his eyes still closed. “I’ll just zip us over when we’re done.” He says, walking you over to your desk where he sets you down- french kissing you the entire way there. You hardly have time to pull away and breathe to respond to him.

“Believe me, Speedy, if we don’t get going, we’re going to be here all night.”

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yooniivrse · 4 months ago

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pottery date | myg

summary. you never expected to find pottery so difficult, so it's a good thing that your boyfriend is right there, ready to help guide you with his gentle hands.

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pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: established relationship au, fluff

word count: 1.1k

content: yoongi and oc goes on a pottery date / yoongi helps oc with pottery / yoongi realises how much he loves oc 🤧

warnings: they’re both very much in love, thats all 😭

a/n: this was inspired by a random tiktok. i have no idea how pottery works so i apologise if any of this is inaccurate. this ended up being shorter than my usual drabbles lol. feedback, likes, reblogs, comments and asks are all greatly appreciated!! i hope you enjoyy <33

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main masterlist

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Pottery is a lot harder than people make it out to be.

You were convinced you’d be a natural at this. After all, how hard could it be to mould some clay into a simple bowl or vase? But now, as you sit at the pottery wheel with a lopsided, uncooperative lump of clay before you, the task seems almost Herculean.

The pottery studio was a hidden gem, tucked away on a quiet street. It was a warm, relaxing place filled with the earthy smell of clay and the constant hum of pottery wheels. This place was Yoongi's idea, after revealing that he had been attending classes for the past month and had completely forgotten to tell you. You had been annoyed with him at first, but your mood instantly changed when he invited you to attend a couple’s class with him.

Now you understand why he had such a smug smile on his face when he suggested it.

You glance over at Yoongi, who sits beside your wheel. His eyes are focused, his long fingers carefully shaping the clay into a perfect cylinder. He wears a simple beige top and dark jeans under an apron tied loosely around his waist. His grown-out hair falls across his eyes in small waves, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“How are you so good at this?” you ask. He looks up, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“I’m just lucky,” he says with a small shrug. "I've also attended more classes than you, so."

"Yeah, which is totally unfair."

Yoongi chuckles. “Want some help?”

You sigh, glancing down at your creation. “Please. This thing looks like it belongs in a horror movie.”

He chuckles, wiping his hands on a damp towel before approaching your wheel. “Alright, let’s see what we can do.”

He pulls his stool closer to you and wraps his arms around yours. Your fingers intertwine on the clay, and his breath fans across the side of your face. His touch is warm and reassuring, his presence somehow making the task seem less daunting. He shifts your fingers slightly, guiding your movements with gentle precision.

“Okay, press down a little more here,” he instructs, his voice low and soothing. “And use your other hand to steady it. See? It’s all about balance.”

You follow his guidance, feeling the clay start to yield under your touch, smoothing into a proper shape. The wheel hums softly beneath your feet as you find a rhythm, the clay cool and malleable against your palms.

“There you go,” he murmurs, his breath tickling your ear. “You’ve got it.”

You relax into his embrace and Yoongi rests his chin on your shoulder. The pleasant, citrusy scent of his perfume overtakes your senses, and for a moment, everything else seems to fade away.

It’s just the two of you, your head resting against his shoulder as you let him control most of your moves. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back and his calloused hands that gently move over yours as you mould the clay together.

“You make it look so easy,” you say, glancing sideways at him. His focus is intent, but there’s a gentle smile on his lips. You ignore the urge to place a peck on the mole that lies just beside his nose.

“It’s all about having the right teacher,” he replies, and you playfully roll your eyes.

Yoongi leans back slightly, letting you take control. You can feel his watchful eyes on you, his presence a comforting weight at your side. He remains close, offering guidance with small nudges or murmured suggestions when you falter.

Occasionally, he whispers words of praise and encouragement in that stupidly attractive voice of his and smirks to himself when he notices the flush on your skin.

As the minutes pass, you find yourself becoming more comfortable, the awkwardness melting away. The clay responds to your touch, smoothing into an even form that vaguely resembles a bowl. It’s far from perfect, of course, but it’s yours.

“Look at that,” Yoongi says, admiration in his voice. “You’re a natural.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Hardly. But it’s better than what I started with, thanks to you.”

“We make a good team,” he says with a grin, that gummy smile lighting up his face.

────

Before leaving, you drag Yoongi along to the pale, wooden shelves that line the walls, displaying an array of colourful mugs and vases with unique shapes and intricate designs. You inspect them all in awe, marvelling at the ones you find pretty and keeping them in mind as inspiration for your next piece.

A small mug catches your eye. It’s coloured in a light shade of cream, with baby pink bows painted across the exterior.

“Would it be taking inspo if I just copy this design?”

Yoongi chuckles softly, stepping closer to you to take a closer look at the mug himself. “Mhm, probably.”

You let out a disappointed sigh. “It’s so pretty though.”

He watches you stare at the mug like it holds the answers to the universe, unable to help the smile that draws across his face. The butterflies in his stomach flutter around at the sight of you looking so fondly at something so mundane.

The urge to kiss you is suddenly overwhelming. He’s so close to you that he can see the few moles dotted across your face and neck, and the faint pigment of your favourite lip gloss shining on your parted lips. In fact, he’s so close that it would take little to no effort to press his mouth to yours.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he squeezes your hand for a few seconds—a secret message that you originally came up with after sensing his hesitance to PDA.

I love you.

The action pulls your gaze from the mug to Yoongi’s face, eyes slightly wide with surprise but clouded with affection, lips curling from a smile into a grin as you mimic the action.

It’s stupid how you still manage to make him feel like this after all these years of dating. He’s embarrassed by the faint warmth that envelops his cheeks, but he can’t seem to take his eyes off of you.

God, he just fell in love with you all over again.

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