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say-al0e · 4 months ago

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Electric Touch

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18, Minors DNI!

Summary: Following your marriage to Prince Aemond, you did not imagine there would be a bedding ceremony. Nor did you imagine yourself falling so quickly for the one-eyed prince. But you quickly learned he was more than met the eye. | Ft. Anon request for "“What part of I want you and only you do you not understand?” + “Love makes you weak but, god, I’d rather be weak with you by my side than face a life without you.” Warnings: Bedding ceremony, PinV, guarded Aemond, Aegon is an asshole (briefly, then he's gone), one mention of death in childbirth (not graphic, very brief), allusion to Aemond's brothel trip. Anything I missed, let me know and I'll tag it. Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader (wife!Reader) Word Count: 5.1k Requests are Open | HotD Taglist

The fire blazing in Aemond’s eye was not what you expected. It was not fueled by desire, a lust for his new bride or the exciting conquest of claiming your maidenhead as you’d long been warned. It was not bright or joyous, a fire befitting the occasion of your wedding night. Instead, it was dark - angry, a wild blaze threatening to torch everything in its path with little regard for the consequences.

Though your new husband had been nothing but kind to you, polite and even occasionally charming, for the first time since stepping foot into King’s Landing, you finally understood why so many tended to avert their gaze lest they face Aemond’s ire.

Before you stood Aemond One-Eye, a fierce dragon rider whose presence commanded attention, and you struggled to keep from withering beneath his gaze as you held his dark look with an even one of your own.

Around you, his apartments teemed with life. Drunken revelers laughed as they surged into the room and circled the pair of you, some of them shouting tawdry jokes while others lamented the loss of the right to the first night. Regardless of their mood, it seemed as if every man in the realm fought to be at your side in a room that once felt so spacious but now left you struggling to catch your breath as they began tugging at pieces of your clothing.

As many hands clumsily tugged at well-tied laces and the heavy fabric of your gown, a few highborn ladies - friends you’d made in the short time you’d been at Court - dutifully removed Aemond’s clothes with much less vigor than their husbands or brothers or cousins.

Aegon led the charge, grin on his lips and breath reeking of wine as he leaned in close. Aemond’s gaze faltered for only a moment, turning to his brother and flashing a warning even the drunkest of men could read very clearly, before it returned to you as Aegon pointedly ignored him. Your drunken good-brother chose, instead, to tip your chin with fingers sticky with wine and draw your gaze away from your husband.

“Do not worry, good-sister,” he began, voice loud, despite his performative attempt at a whisper. He spared Aemond a look, eyes glinting with a mirth that bordered on malice - before he returned his gaze to you. “I made sure my brother was well-educated in the art of pleasure but should you find yourself wanting, you need only say the word.”

By design, you were not given the chance to respond. The last of your garments was removed from your body and Aegon released his grip on your chin to grab your waist.

The sea of revelers parted. Amidst a cacophony of cheers and jeers, a few murmurs as to how it was a shame your father had agreed to wed you to a man they saw as less than whole, Aegon and one of his friends carried you through the crowd and deposited you into Aemond’s bed.

It was only when you were settled amongst the furs and linens that they were all finally ushered out of the room.

If you were honest, it surprised you that Aemond allowed the bedding ceremony in the first place. The idea was put forth by his brother, a suggestion he’d barely blinked an eye at, but it was plain to see just how adversely the entire spectacle affected him as he approached the bed.

Aemond Targaryen, the very image of his house’s beauty and fire, stood before you with his face a mask of composure you had yet to see fully slip. There were cracks, glimpses into the churning abyss that lingered just beneath the calm surface, and you could see them beginning to spread as a jeer from the crowd echoed just beyond the steel and wood of the door.

There was a flash of hurt, a glimpse so brief you felt certain you’d imagined it, before he swallowed and his jaw tensed. He steeled himself, his resolve, and you could see the mask slip back into place.

“My prince,” you began, voice far quieter than you intended as you sat upright to meet his gaze. “I do not-“

A hum escaped your new husband as he stepped closer, pressing a knee into the soft surface beneath you and shaking his head slightly. “We will speak when there is no crowd standing guard just outside, waiting for evidence our marriage has been consummated. For now, we must fulfill our duty as husband and wife.”

There was an edge of finality in his tone, no room left for argument as he reached for you. Though his touch was not harsh, not as insistent or eager as the men who’d taken great joy in stripping you bare, it was firmer than you’d expected. In the weeks of your courtship, he’d lended an arm as you descended the steps in the garden or offered a hand as you climbed them - each touch soft, almost tentative, and as brief as could be considered proper.

It was wistful, possibly even naive, to believe the softness of his touch was affection or that it would continue as he pressed you back into the pillows. Aemond was not an outwardly affectionate man, that much you knew to be true, nor was he used to being treated so tenderly. His life had been one lived in a gilded cage, acquiescing to everything expected of him with little argument and even less connection. Love would not come easy to him, nor would affection.

Only time would bring him comfort, trust in you and the ability to be vulnerable, so you made no argument as he settled himself over you.

The dim candlelight made it difficult to see much - and you wondered how Aemond might react if you allowed yourself to savor the sight of him - but you took the brief chance you were offered to study him. Tall, lithe, muscular; he looked every bit the fearsome dragon rider and well-trained swordsman. Pale hair cascaded over his shoulders, a curtain that cast shadows over the sharp features of his face, but you could clearly see the intrigue in his eye as you lifted your hand to gently cradle his jaw.

Had you not been studying him so closely, so desperate to see some glimpse of warmth beneath the cool surface of your new husband, you might’ve missed his sharp inhale or the way his eye narrowed. Had you not been so enthralled by his appearance, you might’ve missed the way he swallowed or the split second he allowed himself to lean into your careful touch before the impassive mask returned.

Friends, some long married with babes while others had just wed, whispered and giggled when they shared what you could expect. Most of your friends lamented the act itself, thankful only that it often seemed to be over quickly, as many of their husbands were older lords in need of young wives to produce heirs. It seemed that few cared much at all about their wives’ pleasure and you’d wondered throughout your courtship if Aemond - though young, a man of your own age - might prove similar.

Now that the time had come to find out, you still felt wholly uncertain.

For a long moment, Aemond simply studied you. The deep lilac of his eye traced your face, shadowed by his hair and framed by your own locks - now free from the style your handmaids worked so hard to perfect - and his lips parted. He seemed poised to speak, though before he could, the sound of fists pounding the wood of the door broke whatever spell existed in the solace of the room.

Loud jeers from a drunken crowd reminded you both of your purpose, the reason you had been stripped bare for half the kingdom to see, and Aemond was the first to act.

Though you hoped for little and expected even less, Aemond wanted nothing more than to prove everyone wrong. He wanted to prove that he could be a husband, an adequate lover, a man who had everything and more. You had no way of knowing his motivation, not then, but you could see the flame in his eye as his hand fell to your hip.

With the hand still cradling his jaw, you managed to hold him in place as you leaned up and pressed your mouth to his. Since speaking your vows earlier in the night, you’d managed to steal two chaste kisses from your new husband - one just after the ceremony, in the few seconds you had alone before the feast began; the other, tucked in a corner before you were whisked away for the bedding. He responded well to both, stepping just an inch closer and allowing his lips to linger for a long moment, and you were pleased to find that he responded just as well to this kiss.

The ladies at court often lamented their husbands’ lack of skill or desire to share a kiss. They all sighed and confessed that the men found no use for it, no fun in it. It made you wonder if Aemond was humoring you, allowing you the kiss that seemed almost tender in nature, in return for your maidenhead - for your hand, your house’s newly pledged loyalty - but you knew well enough that your new husband was not one to indulge in anything he did not want to.

Hope bloomed, then, just beneath your ribcage that he might, someday, even grow to enjoy it as much as you suddenly found that you did.

Calloused hands began to explore your skin, touch light for a fleeting moment - almost reverent, almost tentative - before it grew steadier, more certain. The tips of his fingers left a path of fire in their wake, his skin always running hotter than anyone you’d ever met, and you nearly expected to find a visible path seared over the expanse of your torso as his hands dipped to your thighs.

As of yet there had been little outward sign of affection from your husband - everything felt like a courtesy, the actions of a well-educated prince, chivalrous out of duty only - and you knew that it might be wishful thinking to believe the slow drag of your husband’s hand up your inner thigh was anything more than slight trepidation. But you swore you could see the anger that burned so bright only moments ago morph into something closer to lust, desire, need.

Aemond’s fingers pressed firm into the plush of your thighs as he parted them and you bit the inside of your cheek to smother your gasp as his sharp gaze finally raked over your bare skin.

For all the wandering eyes, the lustful gazes that burned into your skin as so many lords of the realm crowded into the small room, it struck you in that moment that Aemond waited until you were alone to truly look. He waited until you were pliant beneath him, until you’d sated your own curiosity about him, to allow himself a glance at anything other than your face.

And despite the insistent jeers of the crowd beyond the door, he seemed determined to take you as he wished.

“They are expecting to hear us,” he reminded you as his fingers drew closer to your center. “Do not deprive us all of your charming voice.”

A handful of compliments had been levied at you from your new husband - more in regard to your intelligence than your most beautiful gowns, though one had ended with him calling you beautiful - but you still felt your cheeks heat as his fingers grazed your slit.

The swipe of his fingers was almost clumsy, less self-assured than he always seemed to be, but the thought gave you some comfort. Neither of you could disappoint the other if you were on somewhat equal footing.

Aemond’s touch grew more insistent, more assured, from the moment his fingers grazed the small bundle of nerves that wrenched a gasp from your throat and had your nails pressing into the muscle of his shoulders. He focused there, thumb circling the now aching pearl, as his fingers gathered the increasing slick. The deep lilac of his eye had almost vanished, replaced nearly entirely by lust-blown black, but it remained on your face - watching intently with every noise that spilled from your lips.

As desperately as you wanted to close your eyes, to hide from the intensity in his gaze, you found yourself unable to look away from his face. The sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the barely there flush that set high upon his cheeks; he was beautiful, regal, and you couldn’t help yourself.

“Gevi,” you breathed, hoping the word sounded as effortless falling from your own lips as it did from his. Your thumb brushed his cheek, just beneath his scar, and you could see the flash of an emotion you could not recognize in his eye.

For a moment, he remained silent, fingers slowing to a barely there press, before he tipped his head. Your hand slipped, fell to his jaw, and you realized it was calculated - purposeful - even as his gaze softened. “My clever wife,” he hummed, matter-of-factly, as the corner of his mouth lifted in something akin to a smile. “Full of surprises.”

A response formed on the tip of your tongue, nowhere near as witty as you hoped for, but the press of Aemond’s fingers into your core stole your breath and all coherent thought. The sensation was odd, unlike any you’d ever experienced, and you could feel your brows furrow as your body attempted to make sense of what was happening. It was not as unpleasant as you expected, nor as pleasurable as you hoped for, but you imagined that both would come in time.

Despite his appearance, his brusque manner, Aemond was not harsh. His touch was no longer soft, no longer tentative, and you could still feel the weight of his hands on your thighs despite his touch having moved, but he seemed to take note of the way you winced when his fingers began to press a little too quickly - a little too hard - and adjusted accordingly.

Soon enough, you found a delicate rhythm - an insistent press of his fingers, an exploration unlike any you’d ever felt, as you used the grip on his jaw to pull him into another kiss.

This kiss was different, heavier. It was hungry, a clash of teeth and tongue and noses that made the backs of your eyes sting. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, a bite harsh enough to draw blood, and you inhaled sharply as he lapped at the copper staining your lips.

The copper tang seemed to spur Aemond on, remind him of his duty and the audience waiting for it to be done. He moved with a renewed vigor, with a confidence you’d quickly come to associate with him. His fingers pressed deeper, searching, and he only seemed content when you broke the kiss to fill the room with a breathless moan of his name.

Warmth spread over your skin, a combination of his body heat surrounding you and your own pleasure coursing through your veins. Every swipe of his fingers, every circle of his thumb over the aching bundle of nerves, made the edges of your vision white and the air harder to obtain.

It was then, as your stomach tied itself into knots and your nails sank into the toned skin of his back - his shoulders, his chest, his arms; wherever you could reach, desperate for some tether to reality - that he replaced his fingers with the filling warmth of his cock.

With every noise that fell from your lips, the noise outside the door grew louder. It felt as if the whole of the realm waited just beyond the wood, ears pressed to the door, and Aemond seemed acutely aware of your audience. Gone were the tentative touches, the firm but still careful brushes of his hands. After a few careful initial presses of his hips to yours, he began to sink into you in earnest.

A cry of his name rang through the room, fanning the flames of the fire outside, and your body seemed trapped in the path of the blaze.

Every word of gossip you’d heard from friends seemed true, impossibly, all at once. There was an ache between your thighs, a stinging pain that replaced the pleasant ache of desire, and a dull pinch at your hip as Aemond’s fingers pressed into your skin. The entire room was too hot, almost stifling, and the noise rang in your ears. The tawdry jokes and laughter in the hall, the rustle of linen, the lewd sound of Aemond’s cock pressing into your center, the keening of your moans, the huff of his breath; it was almost too much.

Each sensation that washed over you was distinct but beginning to muddle together.

Despite yourself, your best efforts to take the affection given to you by your husband and appreciate them, you found yourself hoping for something softer, something easier, something better.

Aemond was lost in that moment, stuck somewhere in the back of his own mind, and you could only whisper his name in hopes that he might allow you a moment to catch your breath.

“Aemond, I - please.” The whispered plea, gasped into the night air and barely audible over the cheers still echoing in the hall, seemed to break his reverie. It returned him to the moment at hand - the pinch of your brows as the ache between your thighs plagued you, the curve of your mouth as you fought to keep your composure, the sting of your nails biting into his shoulder - and gave him pause.

The snap of his hips faltered, slowed from the near manic thrusts to something more even, and you eased the grip on his shoulder as you inhaled eagerly.

That deep purple gaze swept across your face, searching for something you could not readily provide, before he squeezed your hip in what you chose to interpret as an apology. You accepted it, easily, and offered him a tentative smile as he continued pressing forward - still firm, still deep, only slower now.

Giggles from the past, old whispers that there was real pleasure to be found in bed, began to return to the forefront of your mind as Aemond’s new pace began to replace the pinch and ache between your thighs with that devastating warmth you’d only just experienced. Everything felt too hot, too bright, too much, and the thought must have been clearly written across your face as Aemond hummed.

“Take your pleasure,” he encouraged, voice low in your ear as he leaned in close. “Then, I shall have mine.”

Warmth continued to flood your veins. Fire lapped at your skin, consuming you entirely, and you took no notice of the noise that escaped your parted lips as you allowed Aemond to continue pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

The end was as beautiful as you’d heard, as blissful, and you could feel yourself melting into the plush of the bed as goosebumps erupted across your skin and your heart thundered in your chest. All that mattered in that moment was Aemond; the weight of him atop you, the warmth of his skin as he pressed himself impossibly closer, the low rasp of his voice as he all but whispered expletives.

That pleasure was only heightened by the warmth that flooded you as Aemond stilled atop you, a curse on his lips and head thrown back.

It was a beautiful sight - something worthy of committing to memory, something so beautiful you only hoped to see it again and again. And you only hoped your new husband felt the same as he tipped his head to study you once more.

Aemond lingered only for a moment, his gaze softer than you’d seen directed at you, before he pulled away. Another squeeze to your waist was the only affection he spared before he stood and pulled the white line from his bed. He shifted you carefully - almost tenderly - to remove the fabric then strode across the expanse of the room to the door.

Without ceremony, he wrenched it open and tossed the stained fabric into the crowd.

A loud cheer echoed through the halls, drunken revelers delighting in the evidence of your consummation, but was quickly cut off with the slam of the heavy door.

The crowd grew quieter, noise drifting back in the direction of the hall still filled with older revelers - opting to spend their time discussing matters best saved for an in-person meeting - and you took the brief moment to catch your breath as Aemond did the same.

For just a moment, he lingered near the small table that held a pitcher and glasses, before filling them with wine and bringing them to bed. He handed you one, nodded his acknowledgement to your thanks, and settled back onto the plush fabric at your side.

Silence fell over the room then, a welcome but almost overwhelming lack of sound after hours surrounded by a cacophony of noise. For the first time since you woke that morning, you found that you could hear yourself think.

Every thought centered upon your new husband.

Aemond Targaryen was a mystery. Rumors about him swirled through the realm and whispers abounded at court. None seemed to be in agreement, however.

Some thought him to be fierce, a fearsome warrior who would make a fine knight should he find himself so inclined. Others insisted that Vhagar was his only asset and that he was nothing more than a loyal hound devoted to his family. Others still insisted that the only person Aemond could ever be loyal to was himself and his own interests.

There were whispers that he was cold, unfeeling. There were rumors that he had no interest in anything other than books, that living people meant little to him. But you were beginning to see the truth.

Try as he might to hide it, the nature of his soul that he buried so deeply, you were beginning to see him for who he truly was.

Aemond wanted the things he’d never been given. He sought reassurance, comfort, love. He wanted to be wanted - truly wanted, desired; not needed because he possessed the largest, oldest dragon. And though your match began as a political alliance, you hoped to prove that he was worthy of his desires as you shifted closer and reached for his hand.

“Aemond,” you began, voice quiet as you hoped desperately he would not push you away, even as he tensed. To your relief - and surprise - he did not. Instead, he simply glanced at your linked hands before turning his full attention to your face. “Believe what you wish, but I am glad that it is you I married. I do not want Aegon or any of the other lords lingering about the castle. I did not accept this betrothal without thought and I hope that you will believe me when I say there is no other I could want.”

Though it was slight, you could see the raise of his eyebrow. So, with a sigh, you placed your cup onto the table and grasped his hand with both of your own.

“When my father made it known that he intended to offer you my hand, I was given more attention at court than I ever wanted. I never cared much for it all, but suddenly, it seemed as if everyone wanted me to join them.” With a weary sigh, you began to trace nonsensical patterns over the back of his hand. “Everyone had a tale of Prince Aemond they wished to share. Some heard word from a brother or cousin, others whispered tales from their own trips to the Red Keep. I heard so many whispers about you that I began to lose track of who whispered what. I have always held whispers in little regard but it grew so frequent that I nearly worried I might meet a monster.”

The moment you paused, Aemond hummed thoughtfully. “Targaryen’s are said to be closer to gods than men. Perhaps monsters are included.”

“Perhaps,” you agreed, pausing your tracing to glance up at him from beneath your lashes. The deep lilac of his eye met yours and you felt your cheeks heat. “But you are no monster. You are just a man. I was given the chance to reject our union. One word, and I would’ve been spirited away to some lesser lord. But I chose to stay.”

“Why?”

It was a genuine question, accompanied by a look you recognized as being tinged with skepticism. In response, you smiled at him.

“Despite your flaws, real or imagined or embellished, I find myself drawn to you. You have the beauty and fire of your house. You are proud, but not a braggart, quiet but not without charm. You are a noted swordsman and a dragon rider, yet you take no pleasure in tourneys. You are young and capable, intelligent and thoughtful. Of all the qualities one could want in a husband, you possess most."

This earnest admission was met with yet another hum of acknowledgement from your husband, a thoughtful rumination as he allowed the compliment to linger for a moment. Only then, after seeming to savor your words, did he ask, “Which qualities do I lack, wife?”

Had you not grown so accustomed to studying every twitch of his brows, every curve of his mouth, you might’ve missed the hint of a smile he wore. It was a question asked in jest, teasing, and you allowed yourself a laugh.

“Time shall tell,” you assured him, returning his barely-there smile with a soft one of your own. “Though, I would never dare call you perfect, lest your head swell to the size of Vhagar’s.” Aemond allowed you a glimpse of a true smile then, fleeting, but you savored the sight just the same. It brought a strange warmth to your chest, wound the hope that bloomed beneath your ribcage into a tendril that squeezed your heart, and you offered his hand a gentle squeeze. “I understand why we were wed. But I have hope that even if we do not find love in one another, we shall find friendship at the least.”

“You would not ask for more?”

“Men’s battles are fought in fields, at sea, on dragon back,” you answered, carefully turning his hand in yours to trace his palm. “A woman’s battle is fought abed. If I were to die there, my only hope is that it would be for someone I cared for, someone who cared for me.”

That lilac eye studied your face once more, more intently, and you could see the weight of your words settling on his shoulders as he realized that he was no longer alone, nor did you have any misunderstandings as to what this life meant for you both. Though he was the spare, pushed down in the line of succession by his brother’s children, he was expected to have a family and in return for giving him heirs, all you asked of him was companionship.

“I believe you shall be a fierce warrior,” he declared, gaze dipping to your fingers gently sweeping across his heated skin.

“And I believe you are all I could have hoped for in a husband,” you confessed, hoping he might agree - that he might declare you to be all he could’ve hoped for in a wife.

And though he seemed unopposed to you, he instead asked, “Do you believe that truly?”

“I do,” you confirmed, pausing your tracing to meet his eye. “I’ve long been afraid of marriage, of becoming trapped with someone who cared little for me, but I am more afraid that growing to love you will be easier than I ever imagined.”

“Love makes you weak,” he all but whispered, though the words held little conviction and even less weight. They were the words of someone afraid, someone unused to love and affection, and you met them with a gentle smile.

“Perhaps it is a good thing we are married, then. I believe love makes you stronger. My father loved my mother and he fought like hell to return to her each and every battle he waged. Love provides motivation,” you offered, only to be met with another thoughtful hum. Rather than pressing, you shifted the conversation after a moment of silence. “Why did you allow the bedding ceremony?”

Aemond paused for a moment and seemed to consider his answer. “I had every intention of forgoing it,” he confessed, free hand tracing the lip of his glass. “Then, we met and it was selfish, I suppose. I have something most men in King’s Landing will covet - a comely wife from a noble house who has made me the sole object of her affection. Allowing the ceremony provided an opportunity to boast, to show that while they may look, you are mine. No other will know the pleasure of your company.”

The reasoning behind his allowance was understandable, even more so when you considered that he was the second son of a man who scarcely remembered his sons in the first place. It was not often he was given something others desired, not often he could be envied, and you could not begrudge him the opportunity he’d taken.

“I am yours,” you agreed, lifting his hand to place it over your heart. “While I believe love will make us stronger, I would not mind being seen as weak, just so long as you are by my side. Others may whisper or believe what they wish but know, lord husband, that I want you and you alone. I look forward to the future and hope the gods bless us with a long and happy marriage.”

“I shall leave faith to you,” he declared, though the words were softer than you believed he intended. “But I have little doubt that you will be left wanting.” Aemond turned, then, and removed the eyepatch covering his eye. The sapphire glimmered in the dim candlelight and you squeezed his hand to keep yourself from reaching out for him.

“Gevi,” you repeated, smiling upon the full face of your new husband.

Aemond’s mouth curved once more, a touch more noticeable, before he sighed and shifted to lie amongst the pillows. “Sleep, dear wife,” he encouraged, pulling you into the pillows at his side.

With the morning sun, your new life would begin. As tentative as you’d once been, you no longer felt any fear. There was far to travel, much to be gained in the way of your new husband’s trust, but you imagined he was right; neither of you would be left wanting, so long as you had the other.

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Author's Note: It's my first time writing for Aemond (or anything GoT/HotD related) so I hope it's alright. I didn't want to go too soft but I also didn't want to go too mean/cold? I dunno. Let me know what you think! :)

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd smut #aemond x reader #aemond x reader smut #aemond smut #aemond oneshot #v's fics #hotd imagine

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redzie02 · 5 months ago

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thinking about Wooyoung reassuring you cause you're nervous about taking care of his little brother

quick imagine/ if anyone would like to make this into a full fic feel free to tag me :) masterlist

You are washing dishes from earlier that day and Wooyoung comes home. He wraps his arms around your waist from behind, kissing your neck. You put down the sponge and turn around, placing your forearms on his shoulders, your gloved hands falling behind him.

You peck his nose and he scrunches it, grinning. You ask about each other's day. He helps you dry off the dishes.

The sun started going down, so you start preparing dinner together. Of course, he takes charge and you don't mind, sitting back and watching him do his thing. His little brother, Kyungmin, would be staying with you guys for the weekend. You mentioned you were nervous about it.

"What? Why are you nervous?"

"What if he doesn't like me?"

He chuckled. "He comes over all the time, why wouldn't he?"

"Well, actually, it's been months since I've seen him. You were on tour and I was busy. I feel like I've neglected one of the most important people in your life." You pouted.

He puts the knife down on the cutting board and walks over to you, wiping his hands on the apron he's wearing. There's a little twinkle in his eye as he bends down to your seated figure.

"You know, I do talk to him every day. Do you wanna know what he tells me at least once a day?"

"What?"

The small smile he was wearing grows bigger as he replies, "That he misses you. He's always asking about you and saying he can't wait to see you."

"What? You've never told me this!"

"I can't have him stealing you away from me," he shrugs, quickly pecking your forehead and turning around to continue cutting the potatoes. "Besides, if he actually did hate you, just feed him- that kid will eat anything."

---

The next day, you and Wooyoung pick up Kyungmin. The three of you go out for breakfast, take a walk at the park, and watch movies at home.

When Kyungmin isn't attached to you, he's pestering Wooyoung- or I guess, Wooyoung would be the one doing the pestering. Kyungmin's round eyes would plead for your help whenever Wooyoung would overwhelm him and you'd draw him away from the madness.

You'd sneakily step away to snap a few pictures of them laughing, or cooking together, or Wooyoung giving Kyungmin a piggyback ride.

It made you realize a few things.

"What if our future looked like this?" You laid in bed, facing each other. Wooyoung smoothed your hair, gently pushing away any strands that may have fallen on your face.

"Hmm?"

"You know...kids...a family. I never realized it was something I might’ve wanted until this weekend. You're doing things to me, Woo."

"Yeah? I can do more things to you." He bit his lip and you rolled your eyes. "I've been thinking about it too. It'd be nice to have a family, wouldn’t it? A few little ones running around, making a mess."

"A few? How many are you thinking?"

"However many versions of me you can handle."

"Oh god."

#i love wooyoung #ateez fanfic #wooyoung #wooyoung x you #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung fanfic #ateez x y/n #wooyoung fluff #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #jung wooyoung x reader #ateez fic #redzie02

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battymommastuff · 8 months ago

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The One I was Meant to Find

Batmom x Batman, Batmom x Batfamily

Prompt: While digging through the attic, Dick Grayson and Jason Todd uncover a secret about their adoptive mother. A secret that reveals the true, and dark story of the most loved couple in Gotham City

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Masterlist

!!DISCLAIMER!! - This likely won't be comic accurate (Obviously), but I did draw inspiration from the comics. If you are looking for something accurate, then this fanfic isn't for you.

You can swallow fire, you've practically flown through the hair....You've performed in front of millions from age eighteen. You felt like you could handle anything the world threw at you....

Until you entered the Upper district of Gotham City a week after being taken in by Bruce Wayne. The part of the city full of the most lavish, and expensive stores. So many name brands that you only ever dreamed of wearing. Not even Haly himself could afford such luxuries, and he owned the circus. Bruce insisted that he bring you to this part of the city to shop for your new wardrobe. He planned on buying outfits, dresses, shoes, jewelry, perfumes, and anything else you could never need. You tried to convince him to just take you to a thrift shop or some random outlet, but he only looked at you as if you spat on his shoes.

So here you were, standing in front of a store that you had no business being in. Little did you know, you would be walking into these stores as if you were walking through your home in the future. All in due time...

Bruce enjoyed a cheap glass of champagne while you were given dress after dress to wear. Since your method of employment was no longer safe, he planned on hiring you as his assistant until you were safe to find your own career path. You stepped out in a dark blue dress that fit a little big on you, "Bruce, you really don't have to do this...I mean a thousand dollars for a dress? I'm sure we can find something similar for a cheaper price." You said while holding the price tag. He frowned, standing up from his seat. He walked over to you and inspected the price tag for himself.

He turned you around so you were facing the mirror, "I think it looks wonderful on you." Bruce said with a smile. He moved your hair to the side so he could zip up the rest of the dress and rested his hand on your hip. You both decided to put off the facade of being a couple while in public. Subtle touches like this were going to happen, but he didn't go too far with it, "I could buy this entire store if I wanted to." He whispered into your ear. A shiver went down your spine, and you bit your lip softly. You knew Bruce Wayne was rich, but just how rich was he? Obviously he was rich enough to keep up his lifestyle as Batman. You turned around, not realizing just how close the two of you were.

Have you ever had that feeling? That feeling that you were looking at someone you knew? As if you'd been with them a thousand life times. That's what you felt when you looked into his eyes. It was as if your souls found each other once again. You knew the theory of the multiverse from one of the clowns in the circus, he loved conspiracy. The thought of you and Bruce being together in different universes made you giggle a bit, "What's so funny?" He asked, his hand still resting on your waist.

"Nothing at all, Mr. Wayne." Bruce rolled his eyes then back away from you. You only called him that to be a tease. You two often found yourselves teasing one another. Which is why Alfred was very happy to have the both of you out of the house...so he can be free of the thick tension for a few hours. Now you were walking downstairs to the batcave, dressed in one of your new nightgowns. Tonight was one of those nights where you felt unsafe. Truly, you never felt safe. You knew there were eyes on you outside of Wayne Manor. The only place you felt safe was right by Bruce's side...or Batman's at this time of night.

"You should be asleep." Batman said as he typed away on the batcomputer. It made you think of the night he rescued you, "You have a busy day tomorrow, and I'm sure your boss wouldn't be happy with you being tardy." He joked then turned to look at you. He could tell instantly that you were scared. He understood the fear. After his parents were murdered, he would be up all night in fear of their murderer coming back to finish him off. Living life having to constantly look over your shoulder was no life to live. Without a word, he stood up while removing his cape. The surprisingly light material was draped over your shoulders to keep you warm. He wasn't going to make you leave. If you felt safe around him, then you could stay. Still in silence, you sat down on a stool next to a table lined with gadgets. You hadn't the faintest clue of what any of them were, but they looked very dangerous.

Was it strange? That you could picture your life like this? By his side, helping him on his quest for Justice. The Manor already felt like home. More so than the circus ever did. That feeling came back again. The one where you felt as if you've been through this before. As if every choice you've ever made led to this very moment. Led you to Bruce.

"Do you believe in soulmates?"

"No."

Your mouth formed an O shape and you awkwardly nodded. That might have been a question for Bruce Wayne not Batman. You learned quickly that the two were vastly different people. Bruce almost felt like the mask while Batman was truly who he was. Sometimes you saw a mix of the two...which you favored.

"Y/N. I'm not someone you can love. My life and what I do will only bring you more danger, you will never live the happy life you deserve to live. I can never make you happy, and can never give myself to you fully. I'm sorry."

Being rejected before the first move was ever made never felt good. You felt your heart shatter at the same time that your eyes began to water, "R-Right...I was dumb to ever think otherwise." You said while sliding down from the stool, "Goodnight...Batman." You whispered and swiftly left the batcave, passing Alfred who instantly noticed the tears falling from your eyes. He could only shake his head as he made his way down the stone steps.

"Lying to yourself and to her will only make it worse, Master Wayne." Alfred said as he set down a fresh cup of tea next to Batman. Nothing was ever openly spoken, but it was obvious that Bruce and Batman both had feelings for you. Everything about you just drove him insane. He never believed in soulmates until he met you. He never thought that there could be anyone in this world made for him. Yet there you were, and it terrified him. How could he ever keep you safe? Once his enemies knew of you, you were going to be the target. The Court was already going after you, but he had so many more that would love to watch him hurt. He knew if he let himself care for you, it would only end with him losing you.

And he couldn't lose you....

TAGLIST

@maxinehufflepuffprincess @tayswhp @rainycloud858 @luna-zendra-star @starlets-things @simpfourmarvel @kawaistrawberry21 @js-favnanadoongi @kodzukenmaaa @xxrougefangxx @pixviee @discocactus-world @b4tm4nn @minimoxha @crutoyu @nightw-izhu @legendarylearner18 @mangegeek17 @pixiedust0604 @that-one-fangirl69 @ilovetaquitosmmmm @irelanrose @asterelz @angelxx7 @millies0bsimp @marie0v @starmansirius @amberpanda99 @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @inutheangel @chaoticevilbakugo @mellowdiy @luvly-writer @enretrogue @zanzie @backyardfolklore

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elizabethemerald · 1 year ago

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Don't Sneak up on People with Swords

@im-totally-not-an-alien-2 made a prompt about Danny sneaking up on Jason Todd and @sky00asara made a comment in the tags about what would happen if Danny did that to Talia. So here is my version of that! Enjoy.

Talia al Ghul watched her beloved from afar. He was out, again patrolling his city for those he considered wrong doers. Her son was by his side. She scowled at how Damian’s fighting style had changed, softened in the company of her beloved. Despite her love for the man under the cowl, he had a tremendous ability to take even the most ruthless of killers and change them to spare the undeserving. He had even tried it with her.

She was hidden on the roof of an abandoned tower nearby. The tower had succumbed to fire and was now condemned until the city got around to destroying it properly. For now it made the perfect place for her to observe her beloved and her son work undisturbed.

“Excuse me?”

Talia whirled, drawing her blade as she spun. Her blade moved fast enough to almost cut the air itself yet the small shape ducked under her stroke and back-pedaled quickly to move out her range.

“Jeez! Why is everyone in this city so jumpy!”

The voice more than anything made her realize that the person who had somehow snuck close enough was an actual child. Their black hair and blue eyes made her wonder if this was another of her beloved’s adoptees. Except surely this boy was too young to catch Bruce’s eye?

“Well maybe you should not sneak up on people?” Talia hissed, her voice soft yet stern. To say nothing of how a child who couldn’t be older than five had snuck up on her at all.

“Well maybe you shouldn’t brood on the roof of my home!” The child snarked back, just like one of the Bat’s brood would, completely unafraid of the blade still in her hand. Talia raised an eyebrow at him then looked around at the burnt skeleton of the building they were standing on.

“This building is not fit for human occupation.”

“Neither was the last place I lived.” He said dismissively. “This place hasn’t even killed me yet, so it’s practically a paradise.”

She was tempted to take the child’s words as sarcasm, yet something in the way he spoke made her think he meant it more truthfully.

“You’ve died before?” Talia asked. She relaxed her hold on her blade, allowing it to rest at her side.

“Oh yeah, I die all the time.” He said, then he looked at her curiously tilting his head first one way, then another. “You’ve died too, huh?”

She nodded, now examining him closely, looking for the signs she would recognize. She could see the hint of a scar on the boy’s palm that might have caused a death.

“What is it with this town that so many people have died and come back?” The boy asked, apparently rhetorically as he didn’t let her answer. “First the stabby Robin, then the stabby Batgirl, then Batman, and even Red Hood. It’s like everyone I run into is contaminated.”

Talia’s eyes widened.

“You can sense those who have utilized the Lazarus Pits?” She would have to inform her father about this child. He could put the entire League of Assassins at risk. The child before her just shrugged.

“I have no idea what that is. Red Hood mentioned some kind of pit as well, but I’ve never seen anything like that. I just know y’all are contaminated with ectoplasm, though not enough to make a core.”

“What is this… ectoplasm?” Another name for the Lazarus Waters? Had there perhaps been a Pit outside of League control? In the midwest somewhere based on the boy’s accent.

“Oh it’s this stuff.” He held his hand out and Talia couldn’t help keep her expression of shock withdrawn despite all her training as his hand filled with the glowing green light of the Pits. He held the Pit Water in his hand then tossed the glowing orb to his other hand in a half juggle as if he weren’t carrying the League's greatest secret and weapon.

Nevermind telling her father about this child, he could never learn of him. If Ras had the power this child had under his control the world would never survive. There was only one option. She needed to train this child to wield this strength. With the stealth he displayed in sneaking up on her and his power over the Pits themselves he could make an assassin like the world had never seen. He could be the next Head of the Demon under her guidance. She knelt down to the boy’s level, slipping her sword back away as she did so.

“Tell me, young one. Are you living in this death trap of a building all by yourself?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry, I’ve got it taken care of. I know I’m little, but that just means people are less likely to notice me. I’m able to steal all the food I need from that big box store down the street.”

“Oh of that I have no doubt. My name is Talia al Ghul. What’s yours?”

“Hmm. I’m Danny.” The boy seemed hesitant to trust her, which to be perfectly honest was probably a very smart thing to do, but at least she had a name for this gift of Lazarus.

“Danny, how would you like to come live with me? You won’t have to steal any more, or worry about food ever again, and I could train you how to fight even better than the Bats.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, looking her over closely.

“Would I get a sword?”

“If a sword is what you want, then once you were trained in its use I would acquire one for you.”

Danny looked like he was about to nod, but then he froze, his head tilting to the side as if he was listening to something. His eyes widened and Talia tensed.

“Uh-oh. Fruit Loop incoming. I gotta go.”

Talia half turned as she heard the sound of one of her beloved’s grappling lines catching on the building’s edge. By the time she had turned back to face him, Danny had completely vanished. She hadn’t even heard him leave. She stood and scowled as her beloved landed on the rooftop next to her.

“Talia.” He grunted at her, glaring all the while.

“Beloved. Must you ruin every nice thing in my life?” Talia snarled back. The boy, Danny, had the gift of Lazarus at his beck and call and Batman had scared him off.

Bruce looked momentarily stunned at her fury, but quickly hid it behind his mask. However Talia couldn’t care less about her beloved right now. She just needed to lose him so she could return to find the boy. The boy who would change the world with his power.

#danny fenton #talia al ghul #dp x dc #batman #kid danny #deaged danny #talia is like this is my kid #he can be damian's brother #Danny does not want to get a new dad #a new mom on the other hand #I also had an idea where Jazz came out to check on danny #and fought talia to protect danny #and talia is like ooh two for one special #I get a new daughter and a new son #I can train both of them to over throw ras and batman

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saytrrose · 3 months ago

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A post that Freakshow Au + Sm-Baby Fans NEED TO HEAR. READ IT.

—————

I cannot stand the people on tumblr in Mushys comments accusing her of so many horrible things. People have been stating that Mushy has been drawing “non-con” and supporting “abuse”. I will not go into too much detail on how it is affecting her and why but it is incredibly overwhelming for her, and she is not comfortable posting for the time being- and you people are making it hard for her to enjoy it anymore.

Mushy is portraying the au and characters how they would canonly work and that does not make her a bad person. The large amount of people trying to say that she has been drawing non-con of the late absolutely SICKENS me. You clearly do not have any understanding for that terminology and should not be throwing it around. Maybe if people paid attention to the au, the lore and how they are characterized you would come to the conclusion that NO ONE WANTS TO BE IN THE FREAKSHOW AU.

If you need a reminder of the definition, The TADC Freakshow Au is an Au where a horrible virus infects the Ai and twists their reality into a horror mindscape. THIS IS NOT CAINE OR ABLES FAULT. Caine and Able ARE AI. They are corrupted by the virus unwillingly and what Able puts Pomni through in the Able-Owned Pomni Au is yes, considered psychological abuse. HOWEVER why in gods name would you assume she supports that shit? Do you people just assume whenever someone draws a death scene they support murder?? or when someone depicts a scene of an animal getting hurt in a fanfic or movie that director/writer supports animal abuse?? Does that seriously go through your head?

EVERYONE in the Freakshow au in under some sort of psychological abuse- HELL in the original show they are. Like did you even watch it? And back to Freakshow, it’s a HORROR AU. People are killed left and right and no one seems to have a problem with that hm? THIS IS FICTION. PEOPLE NEED TO LEARN THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN FICTION AND REALITY BECAUSE WHEN YOU DO NOT DO SO YOU HURT PEOPLE IN REAL LIFE. Not the people producing fictional content, YOU.

People are quite literally, harassing Mushy right now and it is heartbreaking to see my friend experience this. If you do not like certain content that Mushy creates, BLOCK her or BLOCK her tags. People asking for her to tag her art with “abuse” makes her highly uncomfortable. If you do not like this, simply take responsibility for your own viewing and stop interacting.

People need to stop assuming that Mushy is also not trying to find comfort in drawing certain topics. You people need to stop assuming that Mushy lives some sort of cheery happy go lucky life. She experiences a lot, she is going through A LOT right now and you people dog piling these accusations onto her is not only just disrespectful as a person in general, but as her follower. It is truly just disappointing to see just how rude people can be when they are supposed to be your biggest supporters.

A tag MIGHT be arranged, something as simple as “Able-Owned Au” and if this is done then block it. It is that easy. It is so so easy and simple to take initiative for yourself and what you see and how you feel about it by limiting it on your own end than going out of your way to make someone feel horrible about themselves.

Mushys blog is HER blog. She can draw whatever she would like to and if anyone has an issue with this you can very kindly, FUCK OFF. The block button exists, use it. The block tags method exists, use it.

Stop harassing creators.

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #tadc freakshow #tadc freakshow au #tadc au

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therealcocoshady · 8 months ago

Note

Hi coco I wanna try putting in a request

Marshall x fem reader

Marshall and reader have a child there 4 or 5 (boy or girl idc ) and marshal and reader are indulging in late night activities (18+) and there child wakes up screaming bc they heard y/n screaming . So they come running knocking on the door to see if she’s ok .

You don’t have to do this kinda a bad idea

Hey ! Thanks for your request ! I love your idea ❤️. I had a lot of fun writing it, I hope you enjoy reading !

The Monster

Eminem x Reader Fanfiction

Summary : Lily gets scared when she hears Reader screaming during sex. Her and Em need to come up with some explanation.

Tags : Smut - Fluff - Comfort

Warning : SMUT (P in V, use of toys, anal, oral, biting, squirting…).

Author’s Note : I decided to use the same characters as in the one shot « One more baby ? » because why not ?

Your daughter was finally in bed, which only meant one thing : it was on. Baby-making time. Ever since you had decided to try for another child, your evenings with Marshall were filled with… spirited activities. Your sex life had always been active, but trying for a baby had you ten times hornier than you usually were. Same for your husband. For the past two months, as soon as Lily’s bedroom lights were out, you couldn’t jump on each other fast enough.

Trying for a baby not only made you hornier, it also made you more daring, more creative, much to Marshall’s delight. He was definitely enjoying the many new lingerie sets you had bought, as well as the toys and accessories. Since you had Lily on your own, with IVF, you decided to have as much fun as you could as you tried to give her a sibling. New positions, games, accessories, toys… as long as he was cumming inside of you, everything was fair game.

You were ovulating and had been a horny mess since this morning. It didn’t help that your dutiful husband had decided to work from home, staying in his grey sweatpants that you found him so sexy in. Days like this, he would usually stay in his home office but, for some reason, he had decided to work in the dining room. You weren’t going to complain : at least you got to admire him.

It was the holidays so were taking care of Lily but you couldn’t help but throw longing glances at each other. Every time he got a chance, he would tease you, brushing against you, gently squeezing your butt… and you got right back at him, leaning and bending forward every time you were in front of him so that he could have a good view of either your ass or your boobs. You felt your phone buzzing in your back pocket.

From Husband ❤️ : Keep on teasing me like this and you’re not walking for the next week.

You flashed him a smile and « accidentally » dropped the pencils you were holding.

- Mommy, did you drop something again ? Lily asked in an annoyed voice.

- I did, baby, you replied as you tried to hide a smile. I guess I’m really clumsy today…

- Daddy always says that we should be careful with our things, your daughter reminded you.

- And Daddy is always right, Marshall added with a smirk. I swear, Lily is the only good girl around here…

You giggled and bent to pick up the pencils as your husband stared at you - or rather at your cleavage that also showed a hint of the lingerie set that was waiting for him. You saw him licking his lips. Obviously, black lace was always a good choice. You forgot where you were and eye-fucked each other for a second before being taken out of your trance by Lily.

- Daddy, will you come and draw with us ? She asked.

- I have work to do, sweetie, he said with a small pout. I’d love to draw with you but Paul is going to be very unhappy if I don’t review these contracts for tomorrow.

- Uncle Paul always gives you work, she complained as she rolled her eyes.

- True, he chuckled. Next time you see him, you tell him he needs to leave Daddy alone, alright ?

- Yes, she said. You’re my Daddy and I miss drawing with you.

You could see Marshall’s heart melt at these words. He threw a guilty glance at the contracts on the dining room table and you could tell he was tempted to drop everything.

- I really have to work, baby, he said. But if you let me work in peace, I can go quicker and then we can do something together, ok ?

- Ok, she said. Can we make pizza just the two of us tonight ?

- Of course, he said with a smile. We can cook for Mommy. I think she’s a little too clumsy to be in the kitchen today anyway.

You giggled and took your daughter to the living room to draw for a little bit. As the evening came, Marshall kept his promise and cooked with Lily. Pizza was her favorite thing to make with her Dad. The two of them always made a mess in the kitchen, but it made them so happy that it was worth it. When it was time for bed, she insisted that Marshall be the one to tuck her in and read her a bedtime story. She was clearly in her « Dad phase » and he was her favorite parent. You’d read it was normal so you didn’t worry much. Plus, it was fair : he was working a lot lately, so she probably missed him.

You decided to make the most of it and wait for your husband in the bedroom, only wearing your lingerie and high heels. With a 5 year-old, you didn’t wear your heels too much, but you knew how much Marshall loved the sight of your legs when you wore these red bottoms. You were searching for something in a drawer when you heard him enter the bedroom and lock the door. The familiar sound was always arousing to you. It was time to play.

- I have a bone to pick with you, Mrs Mathers, he said playfully in your ear as he stood behind you.

- Do you ? You giggled.

- You drove me crazy all day, he whispered. Time for consequences.

You were about to turn and face him when you felt his hands on the back of your neck, forcing you to bend over the dresser. He got closer to you until you could feel how hard he was. You couldn’t help but moan. After all, you had spent the whole day waiting for this moment. Little did he know that you were soaking wet.

- I could take you right here, he whispered in your ear.

- Please, you moaned.

- Not yet, he chuckled. Let me enjoy the view.

He ran his hands on your sides, your back, your legs, spilling kisses all over your body as you stayed in this position, all his to enjoy. He kneeled behind you and kissed your ass cheek before making your lace panties slide off your legs. He kissed your thigh, going higher and higher until you felt him kissing your pussy, from behind. You let out a soft moan as he ran his tongue up and down your slit. He slid a finger inside you, feeling how wet you were.

- For me ? He asked playfully.

- I was actually waiting for someone else, you couldn’t help but say.

He stopped and you felt a slap on your butt. Of course you had to run your mouth. It was going to be the death of you. You silently cursed yourself for making him stop what he was doing. You wanted his mouth and fingers back to your pussy, in their rightful place. He got up and whispered in your ear.

- Am I not enough ? He asked teasingly. Do you want more ?

- Marshall, you moaned. Please.

- No, he chuckled. I’ll give you more.

He opened the drawer next to you, where you kept your toys, and got your butt plug. He put it in your mouth, telling you to suck on it. When it was wet enough, he inserted it in you, before resuming his initial position and sliding two fingers inside of your pussy. His tongue worked his magic on your clit and you tried hard not to make too much noise. The sensation of the plug, his fingers and his tongue at the same time was sending you in overdrive. It was delicious. You thought you were about to come in no time but he seemed to have other plans.

- I’m not done with you yet, baby, he said. You teased me, now it’s my turn to have fun.

He just loved driving you crazy and you knew he got off on seeing you wrestle with your pleasure. Not that you were going to complain, mind you. After years of dating selfish men when it came to sex, Marshall was a breath of fresh air. You knew you had married the right man but, in that moment, you wished he would just pound into you and make you come already. Patience was definitely not your strong suit, and especially not when you were ovulating.

He grabbed your hand and pushed you on the bed, ass up, face down. In no time, he got rid of his clothes and he did not even bother undressing you. He just pushed your panties aside before entering you. His hip thrusts were painfully slow and you knew it was on purpose. However, you were not having it, so you rocked your hips in turn, owing you another slap on the ass. However, he indulged you and started moving faster. He reached for the plug and moved it a bit, causing you to whimper in pleasure. You were on verge of orgasm when he stopped again and laid down on the bed.

- Get on top, he said.

- You’re killing me, you groaned.

- Told you I’d get my revenge, he chuckled. Now, get on top before I leave you high and dry.

You were pretty sure he wouldn’t do this to you, but you were so needy that you weren’t willing to risk it. You were craving for release and he knew it. This gave your husband way too much power over you. He was smirking I when you got on top and lowered yourself on his length, taking all of it. The presence of the plug in your butt maximised the sensations and Marshall felt even bigger than usual. You moaned as you started moving, closing your eyes and chasing your high. Your man seemed to enjoy the sensations, too. He was usually a rather quiet lover but you could hear him whimper.

- God you’re so tight, he moaned.

- I’m close, you warned.

- Come for me.

Your movements started to become sloppy, much to your frustration. You were on the edge but couldn’t quite get there. You looked at Marshall. You didn’t have to say a word for him to understand you needed a bit of help.

- I got you, he said.

He reached in your nightstand and grabbed your Satisfyer. He turned it on and put it on your clit. Your body’s response was immediate. You were shaking on top of him and your soaked sex was clenching around his. It was so strong that you let out cries of pleasure. Marshall captured your lips in an attempt to shut you up, but to no avail. Your nails were digging in his chest.

- Fuck, he said as you felt him twitch inside of you, his release being imminent.

There were too many sensations at once for you to be able to think straight and control yourself. Every inch of you was stimulated. You let out screams of pleasure as you reached orgasm. You could feel your husband try and cover your mouth but you instinctively bit his hand. He pulled you close to him and your teeth found his shoulder as you kept on having spasms. It felt like never-ending waves of pleasure. You weren’t even sure if that lasted seconds of hours. Time and space had become vague concepts. All you could hear were your own sounds.

Your head was buried in Marshall’s neck as you came to your senses, both of you panting.

- Holy shit, you managed to mumble.

You were taken out of your zone by Lily screaming. Parental instinct kicked in and you stared at each other. « On it », Marshall said before hurrying into some clothes and out of the room. You quickly got out of bed and got rid of the sextoys before getting dressed as well. You were about to check on Lily and Marshall when you heard a knock on the door.

- Mommy ? Your husband asked. Can we come in ?

- Yes, you said.

He opened the door and you could see he was carrying Lily who seemed terrified.

- Mommy ! She cried.

- What’s wrong, my love ? You asked. Did you have a nightmare ?

- I heard you scream ! I’m scared…

You threw a glance at Marshall who was trying to hide a smirk. You never realised you could be this loud.

- It’s alright, you said as you walked to them and kissed her head. Everything’s fine, baby.

- Why did you scream, mommy ? She asked nervously.

- I was… scared, you said, trying to come up with a quick excuse.

- Of what ?

- Of the monster under the bed, Marshall tentatively explained. But don’t worry, I got rid of him.

She looked anxiously at her Dad, who have her a reassuring smile. The mark your teeth had left on his shoulder caught her eye and she looked at him anxiously.

- Did the monster bite you ?! She asked.

- What ? Oh uh… yeah, he said. I had to wrestle him. Scratched my chest too. But you should see him. He looks worse.

You let out a giggle. Thank God for his brain and quick thinking. Your daughter looked at you.

- Are you alright Mommy ? Did the monster bite you too ? She asked nervously.

- He didn’t, you said reassuringly. Thank God for your Dad. He’s a hero.

- I am a hero, Marshall said proudly.

Lily hugged him tighter and gave him a peck on the cheek.

- Thank you for saving my Mommy from the monster, she said. I’m proud of you, Daddy.

- Of course, he said with a big smile. I’ll never let anything happen to Mommy, or to you, or your sisters.

- Mommy… did the Monster pee on your bed ? Lily suddenly asked.

Marshall and you glanced at the bed. There was a huge wet spot, caused by a mix of squirt and sweat. You couldn’t help but blush. You might have had your most powerful orgasm ever, tonight, but you were definitely paying for it. You were absolutely mortified, while Marshall was trying really hard not to cry from laughter.

- I guess he did, you said sheepishly. That’s how scary Dad is.

- Why don’t we go downstairs for some water ? Marshall asked Lily. So that Mommy can sort the mess the monster made in bed.

- Yes, you do that and I’ll join you, you said.

- You should also open your window, Mommy. The monster stinks, Lily pointed out.

She wasn’t wrong. The room reeked of smells typical of sex : sweat, squirt, pheromones and God knows what else. Marshall chuckled and winked at you before carrying her downstairs. You opened your bedroom window and changed the bedsheets. When you joined them in the kitchen, they were eating ice cream. You frowned, as they both knew what you thought of having sugary snacks before bed.

- We’re having a celebration, Marshall grinned. We’re celebrating the defeat of the scary monster under the bed.

- Oh, you giggled. In that case, I won’t say anything.

Lily was sitting on Marshall’s lap. She still seemed a little freaked out. He talked to her reassuringly as she asked some questions.

- I don’t want to go back to bed, she whined. What if the monster comes back ?

- I beat him real bad, you know ? He pointed out. I don’t think he will be bad anytime soon.

- What if his family comes back for revenge ? She asked nervously.

- I’ll wrestle each and everyone of them, he said. Come, I’ll tuck you in.

As he carried her up the stairs, she started hiccuping again. He stopped in his tracks and looked at you. Her cries were heartbreaking. You were a little mad at yourself for scaring her with your screams. You joined and hugged the two of them.

- Can I sleep with you tonight ? She asked.

- Of course, you said. But just for tonight, ok ?

The three of you settled in bed and you were ready to turn the lights out when she started asking about the scary monster again. Both you and your husband kept on trying to reassure her but it didn’t seem to work too well. Marshall sighed and got up. You wondered what he was up to, but you quickly understood as he came back with his huge lightsaber replica from Star Wars, which served as decor in his home office that also doubled as a man cave.

- I thought it was not supposed to be taken from the wall ? Lily pointed out.

- Yeah… except in case of monsters, duh, Marshall replied with a grin. If anyone comes in here, I promise you they won’t last long.

Your little girl nodded and settled between you and Marshall. You kissed her forehead as she held your hand tightly. Your husband smiled at you and mouthed « I love you » before turning the lights off.

In the morning, everything was back to normal, though Lily still mentioned the monster. You weren’t too sure how to deal with it and you were a bit scared you had unlocked a new trauma… you were anxiously staring at Marshall, who proved (once again) to be a quick thinker and the real genius in the house.

- How about we call Lainie and ask her if you can have a sleepover at her house tonight ? He asked Lily.

- Why ? She asked.

- Well, I think Mommy and I should check the whole house for monsters tonight, he said as he winked at you. Just in case, you know ?

Author’s Note : I hope you enjoyed this short story ❤️. I really like writing with these characters (I think Marshall and Lily are so cute) so if you have any requests for them, please keep them coming 💖.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem fluff #eminem imagine #marshall mathers x reader #recovery fanfiction #marshall mathers imagine #eminem headcanons #eminem smut

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hannieween · 9 months ago

Note

city lights series joshua makes my heart go BRRR... anyways imagine joshua taking care and spoiling their S/O a little extra on their birthday 😌👉👈

hiiiiii nonniee!! (｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

...

is... is this a request? omg nonnie is it your bday? 🥺

i've never received a request, so i'm going to assume that this is a req!

here i go ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

✮ pairings: joshua hong x female reader ✮ genre: fluff, smut (18+) ✮ aus: boyfriend joshua ✮ word count: 4.1k

✮ a/n: this is connected to the city lights series (i'm not a 100% sure if you wanted this to be linked to city lights joshua or not, nonnie, sorry) — reading the series is necessary imo before reading this

i really got carried away with this

i hope you like this nonnie! ᨐฅ♡

› smut tags under the cut

✮ warnings: foul language, joshua is in love, dom joshua, pussy drunk joshua, tooth rotting fluff, body worshipping, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, after care. pet names: baby, bunny (hers) › this is not proofread

✮ disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers only. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.

3:14 AM

In the middle of the night, you stirred under the covers and turned over.

It was deadly silent, except for the soft breaths that your boyfriend exhaled while he slept beside you. It had been some hours since you both called it a night after your dinner party and went to bed, obviously not before he spoiled you before sleep.

Your hair was still humid from the mandatory shower you always took after sex, the reason why you woke up, because it was making you shiver.

You slowly sat up, coiling from the brutal change from the warmth beneath the covers, mostly emanating from your sleeping boyfriend and rose from your bed.

Rummaging your drawers silently, you looked for your favorite fuzzy socks without making too much noise and climbed back to bed to put them on with a content sigh.

You slid carefully back beneath the covers and upon lying back on your pillows, a warm hand snaked on top of your tummy, drawing a small gasp in surprise along with a shiver that rushed down your spine.

"Are you cold, baby?" Joshua asked in a low murmur.

"Yeah, a bit," you replied in the same manner.

"C'mere," he whispered, using the hand on your tummy to scoot your body closer by wrapping it around your waist.

He cuddled your body perfectly, enveloping it with his warmth and as soon as your body was pressed to his, he sighed softly and nuzzled his face against your humid hair.

"Happy birthday, bunny," he muttered softly, moving his face to press his lips against the apple of your cheek.

That made you smile. Joshua had been repeating those words over the night at any chance he could get. And it was finally your birthday, when the clock had struck midnight, your boyfriend was the first one to hug you and wish you a happy birthday.

"Thank you, Josh," you replied.

"Mm," he replied sleepily, then wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tightly.

You saw the features of his face relax and his arms around you slowly did too when he resumed sleeping peacefully. You nuzzled against his lean chest and breathed the smell of his skin in.

There were small hickeys on his throat, just below his Adam's apple that bobbed slightly when he swallowed.

And then,

"Are you having trouble falling asleep, baby?" Joshua muttered, his voice was honeyed, so sweet that it almost melted into your ear.

"Yes," you whispered.

It was mind-boggling how he read you so effortlessly. He knew you were awake still without even opening his eyes. You supposed, the many times you've shared a bed together, he has picked up a lot of things from you. That and, the fact that you're a terrible sleeper.

He opened his eyes to find yours, the ghost of a smile appearing on his lips before he asked: "Can I do something to help you sleep, baby?"

The question burned in your body, like a fiery bolt of lightning across you. You nodded. "Yes. Anything, please."

Even though he made love to you right after you arrived from the dinner party, you still felt hungry for more.

The smile grew on his face with a soft sigh. "My needy bunny," he muttered, bringing a hand to cup your chin and hold you still as he pressed his lips on yours.

Slowly, tauntingly, his tongue pushed against your lower lip as he kissed you, his lips then captured yours, eliciting a small moan from you.

The sound only egged him on, with a low grunt from him, his lips captured yours, intensifying the kiss and now your boyfriend was kissing you deeply, using his body to press your back against the mattress and he climbed on top of you skilfully.

"You're so pretty, baby," he muttered after parting from your lips to look at you with the most adoring look on his face. He ran a finger on your cheek. "You looked beautiful tonight."

You stifled a sigh. Your boyfriend was the most attractive man you've ever seen. And he was wearing nothing but his black boxers, his lean chest and abdomen bare for your view.

"Thank you, Josh," you laughed a little in a mixture of nervousness and joy.

Joshua smiled contentedly. "I like it when you call me that," he confessed, dipping his head to kiss you softly.

Then he pulled his body back, making the covers slide from his body and effectively from yours, falling in bundles behind his body. His hands grabbed your pyjama shorts and panties by the waistband and pulled them down your thighs, and got them off your ankles to then set them aside on the bed.

"Can I keep my socks on?" you asked just when he moved to take your top off.

"Of course, bunny," he muttered warmly. "Whatever my baby wants."

You smiled in sheer joy and sat up for him to remove your top off, undressing you completely. You leaned back on the pillows and looked at the man towering in front of you.

His eyes roamed on your naked body, revelling at the sight of you with such love and adoration written on his face that it made your heart almost jump out of your chest.

"So pretty, baby," he echoed his own words, but this time they sounded in utter awe.

He placed his hands on each side of your body and lowered his body so he could kiss you, he trapped your lower lip between his before deepening the kiss.

"I'm so lucky," he muttered entrancingly between kisses, pressing his lips against yours repeatedly.

You stifled a moan and wrapped your arms around him. "We both are," you whispered. "Lucky."

"But I'm luckier," he muttered and you felt him smile against your lips.

You laughed into his mouth just before you could say anything because he was kissing you again.

"Shuddup," he whispered when he parted to look at you.

"Don't tell me to shut up! It's my birthday," you whined and laughed at yourself.

Joshua had been spoiling you so much lately and you realized that he'd been doing it from a week back, much as if he wanted to take a whole week to celebrate your birthday.

That being said, he took you out for dinner randomly, without telling you in advance. He also showered you with pretty gifts—a jewellery set, a Cinnamoroll squishmallow, which made your stomach twist in utter cuteness from both your boyfriend knowing you'd like this and the new addition to your squishmallow army.

The most recent of your birthday gifts he gave you was a bracelet he made with his own hands. It had your favourite colors and it was so pretty and carefully thought of that you almost didn't believe him at first when he told you he made it himself.

Well, that and the fact that your boyfriend likes to joke around with you sometimes.

And besides the gifts, the dinners, he also gave you a lot of attention. He'd been going an extra mile to make you feel good and loved to the point that he almost made you cry out of sheer joy.

But Joshua was all yours. That was the biggest birthday gift you could ever ask for.

"Mm, don't get bratty, baby," he muttered gruffly into your mouth as the kisses slowly got more heated. "It might be your birthday, but I could still cuff you to the bed."

Your stomach lurched at the sound of that. It is true that you enjoyed being cuffed to the rails of the headboard of the bed, you liked to be helpless while he pleasured you to the point you're rendered breathless and teary eyed.

"Would you like that, bunny? Should I get the cuffs?" he asked playfully, his lips pressed a wet kiss on the underside of your chin, trailing down your throat.

You swallowed thickly when your skin started to prickle, causing your nipples to harden too.

When you didn't answer, he sucked on your skin quite harshly, just on the spot where your collarbones join, making you bristle under his body and your arms tighten around his shoulders.

"No, I–," you stammered. "I'll be good, Josh."

"Hm," he hummed thoughtfully, but you knew that he was having his fun teasing you like this.

Then he ran his tongue flatly on one of your nipples, just before wrapping his mouth around it, suckling at your sensitive bud, humming again but this time in satisfaction.

"Joshua," you moaned softly when your skin prickled again, and your hand shot up and found his nape, your fingers grazed his scalp, eliciting a moan from his part. "God, Josh."

He removed his mouth from your pebbled nipple with a loud smacking noise and then turned to tease your other nipple in the same manner, while his hand came up to palm your recently licked breast, smearing his drool all over your skin.

When he finished suckling your nipple, his hands bulged up your tits, pressing them together to then bury his face in them to kiss and suck your skin.

"You have the prettiest tits, baby," he hummed against your skin entrancingly, kissing the swell of each, to then sucking lovebites right beside your areolas, where no one would see except for himself.

"Josh!" you mewled when he sucked your skin so harshly, the feeling shot right between your legs, making you writhe under his body.

"All mine," he pressed soft and wet pecks on top of each hickey, looking at the reddening spots, feeling content at his work.

You smiled teasingly, the snort you made with your nose made him look up and see your smug expression.

"What?" his pierced eyebrow quirked up. "Is it not true, baby?"

"It is true," you replied and then added. "There's no need to feel possessive of me anymore, Josh. I'm yours."

His hands stopped bulging up your tits and settled on each side of your ribcage, his elbows supporting his weight still.

Looking straight to your eyes, Joshua pulled out his tongue and glided the tip on your nipple, swirling around it only to watch you part your mouth and let out a whiny moan. Then, the corners of his lips rose into a smile, while still teasing your nipple with his tongue out.

"Fuck—Josh," you pleaded, the muscles of your inner thighs clenched on both his sides.

And he felt it.

"D'you like that, bunny?" he asked, still looking directly at you as he moved his mouth to tease your other nipple with the wet tip of his tongue.

You felt your skin prickle before you saw it get bumpy all over. "Yes," you whispered.

"Would you like to feel this on your pussy?" he asked just before he used his tongue to flicker your nipple. You paid attention to the movement of his pointed tongue and imagined that on your clit.

You gulped hard and nodded eagerly.

He pushed his eyebrows up, as if waiting for your verbal response.

"Yes, please, Joshua," you replied.

"Will you stop saying nonsense and let me eat you out, then?" he asked and smiled at you playfully.

You watched him slightly agape and flinched when he grazed at the swell of your breast with his teeth, egging you to answer.

"Wh-what nonsense?" you blurted, feeling a little lost.

"I won't stop feeling possessive of you, bunny," he rolled his eyes at his own sentence. "Not until I put a ring on your finger."

"Josh!" you squealed as your stomach lurched, thighs clenching all at the same time.

"Baby!" he replied, mocking your tone of reprimand with a laugh.

"Stop saying that!" you whined.

"Why, you don't wanna marry me anymore?" he asked before he continued his trail of wet kisses on the lower part of your sternum and down your tummy.

"O-of course I do," you stuttered nervously from both the big question and the fiery tingling sensation on your lower abdomen.

"So?" he egged you on, his lips reaching your mound.

"Josh," you squirmed, watching him pout his lips to suck lightly on your very sensitive skin.

"Mm?" he pushed his eyebrows up again, his eyes trained on yours.

"You-you saying that makes me a little crazy," you confessed with an anxious stutter.

"I know," he replied before kissing your inner thighs, making you gasp pathetically. "I like it."

"Why?" you breathed out, eyelids fluttering uncontrollably when you felt his lips grazing on your inner thigh.

He shrugged ever so slightly. "I like to imagine what your reaction will be when I do it for real."

"So that's why you torture me?" you asked, trying to smile at him to make him understand that you were joking, but instead you sounded completely flustered.

He lifted his face from the apex of your thighs, a question written on his furrowed brow. "Torture you?" he repeated and then smiled. "You're the one torturing me by making me wait."

"I meant it as a joke," you explained, and pointed to your abandoned and throbbing pussy with your eyes. "Please?" you urged him to continue.

"Do you think it's a joke that I want to propose to you?" he asked teasingly, but his tone was everything but.

Before you could give and answer, he pushed his tongue flatly between your folds, making you moan with your eyes screwed shut instantly.

"Fuck—Josh!" you cried out, the tips of your fingers grazing his scalp before grabbing his hair.

"Mm?" he replied and lifted his gaze as his tongue moved up to tease your clit in the same form he did to your nipples, slowly gliding the pointed tip of his tongue around your clit.

"M-more, give me more, please," you pleaded, propping your body on your elbows to look at him, his tongue doing the same motion, swirling around your sensitive bud to then flicker the pointed tip of his tongue side to side, but slowly.

He paused, "Answer the question," he instructed, his eyes focused on your face, knowing full well that it made you a little crazy, too.

"No—I don't think it's a joke," you stammered and pushed your hips up ever so slightly towards his mouth to get more pressure of his tongue on your clit.

Joshua groaned, moving the hands that were previously parked on your thighs and forced your hips onto the mattress, making you yelp.

"Josh, come on," you whined when he continued teasing you, now his hands holding you in place by your hips.

"Mm?" he hummed.

"Faster?" you pleaded and then added innocently: "Please, Josh. It's my birthday."

That made him laugh, he stopped teasing your clit with his tongue to give out a broad smile as he chuckled with his whole body.

"Oh, bunny. You think you're so slick," his pierced eyebrow shot up briefly.

But then he moved his mouth back to your cunt, the tip of his tongue pushing your throbbing clit gently, slowly, swirling around it to watch you squirm and hear your drawn out whimpers.

"Please, Josh," you whined and clenched your jaws tight when the tip of his tongue started flicking your clit side to side again, but refraining from applying the right amount of pressure of his tongue against your throbbing clit.

"Fuck, Josh!" you gasped when the sensation was a little more over a graze on your oversensitive bud, causing your thighs to begin trembling on the sides of his face.

Joshua smiled in response, his tongue still out and teasing you. The image was lewd, he looked so fucking hot that it only added to the teasing.

"Joshua, please," you whined again and bit your lip to keep yourself from whimpering lewdly.

Though you were sure the slight teasing from his tongue on your clit could bring out an orgasm from you. And it appeared that Joshua knew it too, but was trying to draw out your climax by teasing you some more.

"I,—I'm close," you muttered with a whiny tone. "Fuck, Josh, I'm cumming."

He blinked at you slowly, almost as if saying "go ahead," and that was all you needed to come on his tongue. You threw your head back and let out a cry of pure bliss, your whole body trembling under his strong grip.

Breathy moans escaped you as your chest started to heave, but his tongue didn't relent on your cunt, flicking your clit gently but at a steady pace. The worry of waking the neighbors a long, distant thought.

"God, Josh," you sighed heavily as you came down from your high and slumped down on your pillows, thinking it was over.

But oh, you thought wrong. Joshua stopped the flicking motions of his tongue on your clit, only to give broad strokes from your entrance and up your folds, drinking in your arousal with a low moan on his part.

Your orgasm was so intense that it left your walls fluttering around nothing. You gasped when you felt the first pulse in your entrance and it appeared that Joshua felt it on his mouth too.

"Mm," he hummed softly and stopped licking between your pussy lips to then push two fingers inside your fluttering walls. "You have the prettiest pussy," he muttered softly as his long fingers massaged your warm walls.

"Mm-hmph?" you hummed mindlessly with a tiny whine when he pulled out his two middle fingers covered in your slick and glided them up your folds and pinched your swollen clit between them, making you gasp again.

"D'you like that?" he asked gruffly, his eyes trained on the features of your face as he started rubbing his fingers up and down, pinching your clit in between.

The sensation was nearly harsh and it threatened to overstim you soon, but it was also so abundantly sweet in pleasure. You writhed your hips a little bit and nodded.

"Sof-softer? Please," you stammered and bit your lip from moaning when his fingers moved your clit around in circles.

"Anything you want, baby," he muttered gently before rubbing your clit with the pads of his fingers in a circle motion, softer and in a steady pace.

"God, Joshua," you sighed a moan and your eyelids fluttered close. The sensation provided by his two middle fingers on your clit was mind-numbing, you felt the pleasure from it everywhere; on your face, between your legs.

"Mm?" you heard him hum.

"Keep going, please," you whined. "Faster."

You heard a sigh and opened your eyes to see him smiling adoringly at you.

But the motion on his fingers picked up some speed, making your thighs clench and begin to shake a little as you felt your body nearing another sweet release. Your body tensed up as well instinctively, as if trying to recoil away from the pleasure it felt.

"Breathe," you heard your boyfriend remind you softly and you slowly took in a breath.

And just when you breathed out, you let out a long moan in pleasure, coming undone on his fingers, his mouth kissing your inner thighs, grazing your skin with his teeth as you came harder than before, chanting his name over and over until you gasped for air.

Panting and shaking, you opened your eyes and found your boyfriend still pressing kisses on your thighs, your mound and lower tummy before he took his fingers covered in your arousal to his mouth to lick his fingers clean.

Your inner thighs were smeared with your arousal, as you would soon find out when you came down from your high. So wet that in fact you could feel the bed sheets were wet beneath your butt too.

You smiled to yourself and propped your body on your elbows again, his eyes lifted to lock with yours.

You ran your fingers through his hair. "You do know I want to marry you, right?" you asked him, still feeling a bit breathless.

Joshua smiled before moving his lips slick in your arousal to kiss your inner thigh. "Mm, not to sure, should I get the ring right now?"

Your stomach lurched yet again, making your body jump on the bed slightly. "Y-you don't have a ring yet, right? Do you?"

"I don't know," he muttered before grazing your inner thigh with his teeth. "I might."

You rolled your eyes. "Joshua, be serious," you sounded a bit nervous.

"So you wouldn't say yes right now?" he asked and a small smirk appeared on his lips when he saw your dismayed expression. "Relax, baby," he muttered in an eased manner. "I'm just teasing you a bit."

"Oh m'god," you sighed and slumped back in your pillows.

"Are you ready to sleep, baby?" he asked as he grabbed your pyjama bottoms and panties.

"Yeah, I think I am," you sighed, blissfully tired and looked at your boyfriend. He held your panties for you to hook your ankles and lifted your hips as he helped you put your pyjamas on.

You both knew you were perfectly fine to do it yourself. But lately Joshua had been doting on you so much that you didn't question him as he did the same with your pyjama bottoms and when you sat up for him to put your top on.

He smiled cutely at you when your hair got ruffled as he put your top on and pressed a loving kiss on your forehead.

"Done," he patted your thigh affectionately and pointed to the door behind him. "Bathroom."

You groaned. "I don't want to," you whined, sitting up in the bed.

"Go baby," he laughed. "I need to change the sheets."

You were reminded then of the small wet stain below your body. "Oh, right."

"Do you want me to carry you there?" he asked softly, seeing that your thighs were still shaking a bit.

"No, I'm fine," you replied, scooting to the edge of the bed and hurried to the bathroom.

Your boyfriend had this routine of sorts, which consisted in taking care of your needs after he dommed you. He'd usually run a warm shower and inspect your wrists for any damage done, he'd cuddle you and ask you questions about your wellbeing.

But in this case, since you had already showered, and there was no bondage, no impact play, no need for the routine. Except for ensuring you'd go pee, of course. After you cleaned yourself up, you came back to your bedroom.

Joshua was finishing making the bed, the ruined sheets were on one corner of the bedroom floor. Your first instinct was to pick them up and immediately put them on the washing machine and program the cycle for the following morning.

"Leave that," Joshua said, spotting your intentions right on. "Get in here."

He nodded back to the bed and you lied down yet again as he climbed beside your body.

"Do you need anything, bunny?" he asked. "I can bring you water, or food if you're hungry."

You shook your head and he opened his arms for you to scoot right over to be wrapped in a warm hug. "I'm good, thank you Josh."

He cuddled your body under the covers, using his body's position behind you to kiss your nape and your hair.

"I'm so lucky to have you, baby," he mumbled against your ear, bringing a hand to run his fingers through your hair, gently and carefully.

"I'm lucky too," you whispered, grabbing the hand that was below your body to kiss his knuckles.

You heard him smile behind you, still running his fingers through your hair, the rhythmic motion slowly driving you to sleep, eyelids falling heavier by the second.

"I love you, bunny," he whispered.

"I love you too, Josh," you replied, feeling your heart beating at every word.

"Feels like you were made for me," he murmured.

You hummed softly in response, your heart fluttering erratically in your chest. "I am," you muttered, mustering up some boldness.

"Are you, bunny? Made for me?" he sighed running a hand from your shoulder and down your arm, caressing you gently.

"Yeah," you breathed. "With or without a ring."

He paused, but his hand didn't stop caressing your arm. "You know I'm not as possessive as before," he told you thoughtfully.

"I know," you conceded after some thought.

"The least I want you to think is that I want to own you or something like that by marrying you," he continued, and you could tell from his tone that he was falling asleep too, even if his hand was still stroking your arm.

"Josh," you muttered sweetly with a small laugh. "I don't think that!"

"I just want to make you happy. Give you the whole world," he whispered.

"You already make me happy, Josh," you muttered and pressed your body back against his. "You made me the happiest tonight."

"Mm, then I've still yet to give you the world," he muttered after some seconds.

You laughed and turned only to press a happy kiss to his smiling lips. "Baby steps, Mr. Hong."

He nodded in agreement. "Baby steps, Ms. Hong."

✮ a/n: so this is the first time i get a request (if it was indeed a request lol) but lemme know, do you like this? should i accept more requests?

so where exactly does this fall in the city lights timeline?

→ this will happen after the events of episode 8, which i hope i can post soon. i know i could've written something outside of the city lights canon, but i want everything i write and post to be within the same universe and what can i say, i got carried away

let me know what you think! likes, reblogs and comments are wholeheartedly appreciated! my ask box is always open!

now, i need to go back to writing guilty pleasures pt. 2!!!

i love youuuu ૮₍｡´ᴖ ˔ ᴖ`｡₎ა ♡

toodles

click here to join my taglist | buy me a coffee? ♡

#seventeen smut #joshua hong smut #joshua hong x reader #svt smut #svt x reader #joshua hong fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #svt fluff #svt imagines #ff:city lights #hannieween

489 notes · View notes

bubbleberryuniverse · 3 months ago

Text

- GHOST PERI AU -

(AKA Petrified!Peri because that name is cool as FUCK.)

REFERENCES ALSO AVAILABLE HERE!

REGULAR COLORS / HIS BODY [NOT GHOST]

GHOST COLORS / HIM AS A GHOST

SO. You may be asking, "what happened to him?" And I am here to EXPLAIN! :]

This AU is still a fairly [pun unintended] big WIP, so some details are still all over the place/undecided, and some may change over time; constructive criticism, opinions/thoughts, questions, are all appreciated!

The general idea is, well... divergent from the finale. What if, after the chip is grabbed and Hazel, Wanda, [and maybe Cosmo? I don't recall if he goes with them/ends up somewhere else] go to fix the wand, Peri explodes. And it gets undone when Hazel wishes to fix Fairy World. Buuuttt... not quite!

It wasn't her 1 Millionth Wish that she used up on Fairy World— which is why it Doesn't Quite Fix Him Going Kaboomey. But I imagine that having 1Mil Wishes had a mild influence on What Happened and why exploding DID get fixed... sort of. [I need to brainstorm specifics on this.]

ANYWAY.

Peri looks GENERALLY normal most of the time, except for, well, *gestures at reference.* Outside of THAT [cracked wand, cracked crown [crack hidden by the glow], slightly off color pallete], there's some other stuff that's just a Hint of Wrong.

Like coughing up confetti and/or rainbows [without any other sign of magical backup [which he can't experience anymore because he did technically already die via backup.]] And sometimes the funny silly wacky expressions that happened during buildup [big ol' eyes/pupils, star shaped pupils, funny faces [like when he was talking to Dev.]

Throwing this in here. Sometimes he just stares like the TBH Creature. It's kinda silly kinda funny. I need to make a Petrified!Peri TBH emote because that fits well.

I was ALSO thinking about the idea that sometimes limbs can detach [the ghost fairy in that one ep is what gave me this thought], mostly for expressive purposes/fun silly purposes. It can be seen in this image here! Still DEBATING on this, though.

ANYWAY.

Cosmo and Wanda Don't Know He Died [because of not being right there] But something Is Off. Peri probably doesn't at first either until they [themself] put it together through context clues, and then they're like, "ooohh no, mom and dad probably don't know I exploded!" And he gets REALLY nervous about them finding out because that'd be A Lot and he doesn't want to Worry Them [because... he fucking died.]

So. There's a lot of him just trying not to Act Suspicious. Which only makes them both concerned! I have so many silly funny interactions between them that I imagine, actually!

Like...

Peri: *Talking. Suddenly... star pupils!*

Wanda: Um. Sweetie?

Peri: Hey do you see that?

Cosmo: Oooh, see what?

Peri: Over there! *Points.*

Cosmo + Wanda: *Looks over.*

Peri: *Disappears.*

WHICH. YEAH. SO. GHOST FORM. They're completely hidden when they're actually a GHOST, and has no wand/wings when they're a ghost, either [they do have wings normally, I just forgot to include them in the reference.] And I imagine whenever they poof into their ghost form that they leave a tiny bit of confetti behind!

ALSO.

He reassigns himself to Dev on his own [who didn't forget after the finale.] And his magic is kind of fucked up. Cause he's DEAD and look at his fucking WAND. So wishes kinda get fucked up when granted a bit sometimes ehehehaha...

ANYWAY.

I am also dumping my Peri headcanons onto him. They're transmasc nonbinary and use he/they pronouns and they're also aroace! :3

PLEASE. PLEASE send me any asks if you have any questions! You don't have to ask to draw them, either— just tag me in any art if you ever make any, please! :]

#fairly oddparents a new wish #fairly oddparents #fop #fop a new wish #fopanw #fop:anw #fop: a new wish #fairly oddparents: a new wish #fop au #periwinkle fairly oddparents #perwinkle fairywinkle cosma #peri fop #peri fairly oddparents #fop poof #alternate universe #fop spoilers #petrified!peri au

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artfartt · 1 year ago

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They pulled up in their pink DeSoto to go watch the Barbie movie and found Lorne (the friend for life) staring at them down from a mile way (they had to suffer an hour and 54 minutes of his presents).

#sam and max #sam and max fanart #artoftheday #freelance police #snm #sam and max freelance police #barbie movie #quick drawing #idk why i think this is funny #I thought of this to late #why did I put so many tags for one drawing

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eris-snow · 10 months ago

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𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐈𝐬 𝐆𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐨𝐟𝐭

Tags: bakugou x gn!reader, todoroki shennigans, fluff, sweet, funny, humour, swearing

Todoroki conducts a highly scientific experiment and has come to prove that his highly scientific hypothesis is indeed correct.

Bakugou's going soft. Prove me wrong.

I mean, if you look at it with blinders, it's hard to see where he's coming from, but Todoroki can assure you that this is not just a theory anymore.

Can science explain how Bakugou's features simply melt when you kiss him? Can math explain how unexplainable his actions are towards you without the expression called love?

Shoto doesn't think the universe can explain a soft Bakugou. And that's why he's here to explain it for you-

"Todoroki, was it necessary to draw the blinds-."

"Yes."

Bakugou loves you to bits. Whether it's buying your favourite food back or loving little gestures, whether it's prioritising your safety even when on the battlefield...Bakugou's rough edges are slowly but sure smoothening out.

Not for everyone, of course, as Shoto has deduced. He still gets on the blond's bad sides and for some reason, he refuses to be called bestie, but hey, at least there's no punch to the face anymore.

Bakugou makes sure to walk on the outer side of the pavement. He makes sure to kiss you good night and whenever it's raining, he holds the umbrella for you so you can walk hands-free.

When you're sick, he goes all cabin fever and cooks for you. He checks your temperature and if you're feeling up to it, he'll explain the homework to you and show you your next few assignments.

He calls you Sunshine, which is so soft and nice compared to his other nicknames such as:

"ICYHOT, DID YOU MIX MY SHIRT WITH YOURS? MY SHIRT IS PINK NOW YOU HALF-BRAINED, TWO-QUIRKED PEPPERMINT BITCH-"

(Oh shit-)

There are stars in his eyes whenever he looks at you, and Shoto bets his father's black card that your boyfriend is already saving up for a ring, one as special and unique as you because you do way too much for the lovesick idiot.

You apologise for him.

You put up with him. (Mad respect.)

Everyone acts like being with Bakugou is such a dream, but being his partner is not easy.

Flaws that take time to be corrected are the separation marks for most couples, and the fact that you stayed by his side to build him up from his fucked-up asshole self takes more mental strength than any superficial fan could imagine.

Is Bakugou going soft? Absolutely.

"That brings me to the end of my presentation." Shoto bows, facing his class.

There are way too many crinkles on Aizawa's forehead. "The presentation was supposed to be on the latest news in the Hero community." His teacher says flatly. "Not another collection to your conspiracy theory folder."

Shoto is about to respond, before Bakugou speaks up first.

"YOU THINK I'M GOING SOFT—?"

#mha #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #katsuki bakugō #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x y/n #fluff #bakugo x you #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou fluff #funny #humour #what am i writing

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raphaerolo · 4 months ago

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Last Line Challenge

Rules: In a new post, put the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as you have words (or as many as you feel like)

Tagged by just so many people (some from a while ago but it's okay): @anxiousotters @chiliger @bladelei @nobie @vytels

I'm once again doing the double wip, drawing and writing. First, drawing!

They're everything to me.

I don't have much explanation for this one, iykyk (and it's pretty obvious). My last line was shading on Cody's face. They're just—

Yeah.

And writingggg. I just finished changing this 5k wip from past to present tense, but I did add a line to this scene. I love putting accurate math into my codywan teacher au fic. Precalc is so fun.

“So the inverse of this function, if we swap out x and y and solve for x, comes out to be 2x plus four. Is that all making sense so far?”

He sees a variety of nods and decides to move on.

“Now, if we loop back to transformations,” he says as he grabs a whiteboard eraser. He swipes at the orange marker and it - doesn’t erase. He scrubs at the marks and they just smudge, but don’t vanish. “This marker doesn’t erase.” He chucks it into the trash can by the door.

“What, no, don't throw it out,” Waxer cries. “You could give it to Mr Kenobi.” Other students begin calling out their agreement.

Cody glares at his students. “If I give that marker to Mr Kenobi, when he discovers it doesn’t erase, he will just write over it and it won’t be good for anyone.” Cody should know; Obi-Wan had accidentally written on a whiteboard at home with a permanent marker and, well. Trying to read three layers of his handwriting overlapped was a challenge to say the least.

Tagging.... okay, first of all, everyone who tagged me, uno reverse flip flop I'm tagging you all back. And also. @smoosey @chickengodnoodle @why-cant-turtles-fly @friendlyneighbourhoodelf @ferretrade @merlyn-bane consider yourselves all tagged

#some people dont love that i can draw and do math #but in my defense i cant finish projects on time #last line challenge #tag game #my art #my writing #my wip #wip #obi wan kenobi #commander cody #star wars fanart #star wars #codywan #digital art #fanart

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sp00kymulderr · 6 days ago

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it might be nice

Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Warnings/Tags/Notes: 18+. FEELINGS. Angst. love. just...feelings. Mention of f receiving oral, reader is a not a us-citizen (visa stuff), commitment and intimacy issues all round, did I mentioned feelings? This just kinda started writing itself, i appreciate there isn't enough Dieter in it but it is what it is. Unedited, unbeta'd.

Words: 1.1k

Summary: It's more than enough. Having what you have with him now.

"We could get married"

You look up from your book, drawn back from your far away to the sound of his voice. Dieter is looking at you expectantly.

Your eyes widen as you process the four words that just left his mouth.

"Dee, we…why would we…" You trail off, drawing your legs up and out of his lap, his thumb presses down on the arch of your foot once more before he lets it go.

The conversation had moved on hours ago. Over takeout you'd mentioned trepidation over being able to stay in the country, struggling with your visa and having no sponsorship since you couldn't seem to get a fucking job right now.

Dieter had listened, sympathised, and then eaten you out for dessert just to make you feel better about your situation.

It helped. He'd been pretty mediocre but extremely enthusiastic when you'd met, but now you'd taught him some tricks he knew just how to turn your mind off for a moment.

The conversation was finished the moment he put his mouth on you, or so you thought. He could help you pay for an extension but he wasn't influential or wealthy enough to sway the embassy into letting you stay longer.

"I'd bribe the fuck out of them if I could, you know that"

You did know that. You knew he'd do anything for you. He'd been saying it since the day he met you, once famous (more like infamous) movie star turned rehabilitated recluse with no one willing to be by his side until that day.

He'd met you in a Dennys, of all places. 3am waffles served to his lonely little corner booth because he found it hard to sleep these days, and he got hungry at random times. You took the late shifts because they paid the best, and you could be available in the day for calls from your agent that never came.

It hadn't been sexual at first. It hadn't been anything but a displaced, alone man and an exhausted, untethered waitress sitting in a booth and sharing free fries because chef made too many and they'd only go to waste. It had been whispered giggles, and sharing ridiculous Hollywood horror stories, and 'same time tomorrow' over and over again.

No one in LA had made you laugh. Not until you met him.

Dieter hadn't heard genuine laughter in years. Now he got to hear it every night.

Back in the now, you shake your head. He's being silly. He's trying to make you laugh again.

"Don't be stupid" You playfully shove his shoulder with your foot, but his face falls into a frown, and you feel a little crack in your heart at the sight. You watch as he stands, rubbing fingers across his forearm and muttering a little 'Stupid, yeah'. The tremor you feel inside you is nameless, and you will it to remain that way.

In the last six months of your knowing each other, there have been times when you've felt this same feeling. An ache at the thought that he could be anything other than happy. You'd long since left Dennys for the upward trajectory of the Cheesecake Factory but still when the late shift rolls around you feel a tug at your lips and a name on them, even when you'd seen him only hours before.

You're not an item, that's the thing. You're not a couple. Neither of you have ever said the words outright, no 'I want to be with you', 'I want to be yours'. Not to each other, at least.

It's more than enough. Having what you have with him now. It's enough, it's enough, it's enough. Enough that he will sit up all night long and read lines with you again and again and again. Enough that he tells you not to come over on his bad days but you do anyway, and hold him while he cries.

It's enough to be just this. Because more would only make it hurt more when he relapses, when you have to leave.

When you have to leave…

You close your book, set it down on the table that's strewn with pages for your latest audition. Last night he'd coached you through every single line, and then told you with passion just how perfect you were. You can hear him in the kitchen, and you know he's making himself a decaf latte with way too much caramel syrup and a dash of the kitkat sprinkles because that's what he always makes when he might be starting to crave something else.

That's how you know he wasn't making a joke. That's how you know your hurt his feelings. That and every look he's ever given you, every smile that lights up his eyes that's only been for you. That and the way his hands never stray far from you, always grounding himself with the touch of your skin to his.

"Dee…" You pad up to him slowly, watch as he tenses at your presence. Another prickle in your chest, you can't let him think you don't feel...what it is that you feel.

"Would it be so bad?" He asks without turning, the tinge of dejection in his tone making you reach out. "I'd treat you good, you know. We wouldn't even have to live together or anything…it can just be a way for you to stay. That's all. I didn't think it would be so bad for you"

God, you've had him right in your grasp this whole time. The two of you dancing around your feelings all because of fears you didn't even fully realise you had til now.

"I'd- I wouldn't even tell anyone you were my wife, if you didn't want me to. I wouldn't expect anything from it. I just…fuck,"

You turn him around with a pull to his arm, shake your head and bite back something hopeful and beautiful that inches up your throat,

"I don't want you to go"

Your arms are around his middle, a stifled sob as you bury your face against the soft, worn fabric of his favourite t-shirt - your favourite by extension because everything he loves you love too. He smells like him.

You breathe him in.

He smells like home.

You look up at him and smile. Not the pretty smile you give to casting agents - the one that makes you look perfect - but the big, happy, loving one he saw the very first night you two met in that Dennys at three in the morning on a random Tuesday. The one he gives you back is the same; he's smiled a thousand times on camera, in films and press appearances and award shows. No one else but you has ever seen this smile.

You take a deep breath. The crack in your heart starts in fusing back together.

"We could get married"

#dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #probably ooc Dieter but I don't care ily soft caring scared sober Dieter #idk what this is sorrry

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sunboki · 7 months ago

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— FOR THE NIGHT. a Christopher Bahng fiction

Christopher Bahng x fem. reader

WORD COUNT. 1.1k words

AUG'S NOTES. this bangchan is from my “Korea’s Most Wanted” universe because i have yet to get over him from october…

“Bin, you said it was shipped friday.” The man, Christopher Bahng, grumbles, massaging the pinch between his brows.

His counterpart, Bin, whom he was now quarreling with on the phone groaned profusely, claiming how shipments were already slow—not to mention with the new investigations on his business underway.

The life of The Gunsman isn’t an easy one. It’s a constant game of tag against the police and the government while wielding a well-planned dictionary of excuses to avoid suspicion.

So now, as Bahng’s precious system becomes increasingly jeopardized, he finds himself losing more and more sleep to a worrisome degree.

And, having left the party filled with chairman, associates, and colleagues alike, Bahng slips into the safety of his car, once again troubled with the demands this illegal trade calls for.

“Well tell him I’ll have to serve his head on a platter if the ammunition doesn’t arrive by Friday. I’m running a charity event with how many funds I’ve given the idiot.”

Although halfway into Bin’s response, a quiet, though audible sound rustles in his backseat.

Instantly, he’s lurched a pistol from his thigh, aimed directly at the responsible interruption.

“Bahng. Bahng?” Bin echoes, only to be hung up on as Chris takes in the sight before him.

Lying in his backseat, curled up in a miniature ball, is a girl.

Your face is wrinkled in discomfort, hand resting right below your cheek, smushed against his car, a Lamborghini’s, interior.

How you got here without him noticing is beyond him, how long you’ve been here an even larger mystery.

His hand falters with the pistol, gawking with obvious surprise prior to stuffing the weapon back into its leather holster.

Instinctively, he would’ve called an assistant, asked them to take you home, find someone who knew you. Except, by the look of your current state, he has an inkling you wouldn’t be the greatest help navigating.

You’re gone.

Plus, the party’s already drawing to a close, people scattering out in every direction. The last thing he needs is to draw attention to himself.

Bahng may work illegally, lacking the fear of blood on his hands, but he’s not heartless.

Stifling a sigh, he rakes a hand through his hair, repeatedly clearing his throat in the case you woke up.

Leave it to him to end up with a random girl in his backseat.

Fine. Home it is.

Or, one of his many homes in the area.

Starting the engine, he spares repeated glances at you on the drive back, simply met with your same, woeful expression. Eyes screwed shut, lips pursed, cheeks stained a pink hue.

Pulling in, he stalls in the front seat, debating on all his morals up till now.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this..” Words a mere mutter, he carefully opens your door, gingerly dragging you out from your awkward position.

Knees pulled to your chest, Bahng keeps one, scarred hand on your back and another beneath your thighs while your head hangs, both hands bunched into fists, pressed to your chest.

Scared.

Whatever happened before, however you got here, you were scared—that much was known.

Somehow, the realization had him holding you closer.

Swiping the code to the door, he silently curses the loud beep, confusing himself with his concern for you.

Why did he care? You’d wake up, he’d get your home address and send you off. Why was he now so conscious about your comfort?

Heading up the winding stairs, he pulls his office chair from its place, deciding water as the best option.

“I’m going to put you down for a second, okay?”

Gently idling you into the chair, his movements halt when your arms reach up around his shoulders, a soft, barely divisible whine slipping past your lips, unwilling to let go.

He can barely recognize anything with how loud his heart rams against his rib cage.

Pull yourself together Bahng.

Ensuring you were still asleep, he slips into the kitchen, filling a glass with water before returning to you.

Your head jerks from when he holds the rim to your mouth, unwilling to cooperate.

“Just water sweetness,” He soothed, hating how worried he was, how senseless this behavior was.

Yet, he only continued to ease you into each sip, palm cupping your cheek for support, narrowly masking his astonishment when your eyes slowly opened, barely awake.

“Mm..?” Your vocal cords betray you, leering on the verge of dream and reality as you try acknowledging your surroundings.

No amount of recollection aids your perception in figuring out how you got here, only aware of the blaring ache in your head and a strangers voice in the distance.

One thing’s for certain. You feel awful.

Discerning the splash of water dumped down a sink, you’re once again hoisted into his arms, disappearing back into unconsciousness as Bahng nudges open his bedroom door, settling down on the edge of the bed.

“I don’t mean to man-handle you, but we need to get these shoes off.”

Situating you upright, his arm slips down, propping each of your ankles where he can pull the heels from your feet.

Softly placing you down, he savors your feeble grip grasping at his clothing, gradually loosening in an attempt at holding his face.

“Unfortunately, I can’t stay here all night sweets, you’re gonna have to let go,” Bahng whispers, easing your wrists down to your sides.

Unfortunately? What’s gotten into him?

Although, just as he adjusts the comforter over you, turning to go, he hears a sniffle.

C’mon, ignore it, she’s fine.

Another sniffle.

Screw it.

“If you tell me where you live I can take you home?” He utters, lingering by your bedside like a child waiting to hear if they can go on a play date.

It’s painful admitting the effect your tears have on him, brows creasing so sadly in a way he can’t ignore.

“Are… Are you gonna hurt me?” You whimper, feeling absolutely exhausted the longer your mind races, frantically piecing together any clues of your whereabouts to no avail.

The pad of his thumb wiping free falling tears, he shakes his head, a miniature smile gracing usually serious, unmoving features.

“I can’t say I haven’t hurt someone before, but I’m not gonna hurt you, alright sweetness?”

Nodding fervently, his face contorts, admiring the adorable manner you blink up at him, lashes all clumped from crying.

Look, his ego isn’t too fragile to admit you’re cute.

“..How did I get here?”

Bahng chuckles.

“I don’t know the answer to that myself.”

Freeing your arm from his sheets, you furiously rub your eyes, frown tugging at the corner of your lips, hiccuping as your breathing shallows.

“I know things are scary when you’re this drunk. I promise everything will be a thousand times better in the morning.”

And with that, he pulls the comforter over you, bidding a quiet good night and nearing the door for a second time.

This time, you intervene, latching onto the fabric of his shirt.

“Thank you.”

What did he just get himself into.

He sucks his teeth, surveying the sleepy eyes you’re torturing him with.

“Don’t mention it.”

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