#yes its that X likes to bake | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

iplayghoul · 5 months ago

Text

let the light in

xx: cowboys! eren & onyankopon x reader . .

9.9k words — life on a ranch, porn with plot, tension, feelings, eventual sex, fucking in.. mud & rain, reader is referred to as 'she', 'girlie' etc, use of 'daddy', lots of spit & being dirty, reader is a country bumpkin, light arguing, thumb in ass, pussy spanking, spitroasting, cunnilingus, crying, some squirting & creaming, lots of shortened words & punctuation (country dialect duhh), not proof read sorry, awkward moments.

notes: been writin dis since december 2023... enjoy u guys :] rbgs appreciated

“hiya mrs. brown!”

worn out boots of marble cake pink and brown swirls, graze the dirtied gravel near the elderly woman's cottage as you slip from the horse. mary-lou, you affectionately call her, dusting her pinked moist nose with a pat before hobbling onto the stone path. over the horizon, the pastel orange and yellows of the sun threaten to melt into your skin, kissing it golden as the morning begins and so do your deliveries.

golden-blonde, french curl braids woven into your roots fall past your lower back ending in thick, loose curls, some held together by bows and others hair clips. they bounced with every step. mrs. brown was the first on your list of deliveries today. on cool mornings like this when spring teases its approach, you often bake little treats for the other villagers. apple tarts, blueberry jellies, cherry pies with freshly picked fruits, warm buttery honey-milk breads and healthy breakfast muffins: all made with ingredients grown at home! but, we'll explore the garden later.

calling this a village was a bit of a stretch, realistically, a happy delusion at most. acres of farm property was shared by each of the residents whose homes were nearby, despite the farm areas creating distances of land behind them. tok, tok, tok! the haste below mary-lou's hooves pulled you back to your task as you rearranged the goodies and stepped onto the wooden plank. mrs. brown sat atop her rocking chair, crocheting a blanket you'd commissioned. a chuckle, “ [ ] , dearest, always in y’head, aren't yuh?” mrs. brown softly muttered, deep brown skin crumpled besides her lips, short pastel curls tickling her ears. hands busied with the neapolitan coloured yarn. her countryside twang was a pleasant aerated tone, reminding you of your own parents.

you huff and offer a smile. “mrs. brown I've—”, “must I remind you, dearest, eleonora,” the playfulness in her voice offers it a quiver. “and let me guess . . . cherry pie?” thin, quivering lips stretch to a smile, your plump ones mimic hers as you nod with a sweetened expression. “yes, eleonora, I know how much y’love cherry pies n’–”, “and my grandson does too, y'know!” you stop to stare at her as she wears nothing but a smug look on her face, her head bobbing side to side with a ‘you know damn well’ manner.

eleonora lived mostly alone. when her daughter married, giving her a sole grandson they'd moved to the city. luckily for her, and you, her grandson moved back on his own to the country. he fixed cars, motorcycles, tractors– you name it, he's got it covered. she said his name was onyankopon or, ony’. to be honest, you spied around one time to catch a glimpse of him. back when you first moved in and eleonora became immediately smitten with the idea of you and her grandson as potential lovers, you snuck around where ony's ranch was, peaking at who the man could be. you barely saw him really, the small flash of him you saw all greasy with engine oil was so far away! but infatuation always grew in you from a small bud, slowly growing before flower petals started spilling out your throat.

“are ya’ stoppin by him too, darlin’?” she pries further, “I ‘dunno els’ . . . y'know I haven't actually met ‘em right?”, “oh I know dear,'' she breathes, “ he's strong, he's tall, he surely is handy ‘round the house and- and he's not ‘onna dem toxic masculine things i hear ‘bout on the Internet! I think he's had a boyfrien’ b'fore, that must count!” she relieves your hands of the heavy treats while speaking, “eleonora . . .”, “c'mon darlin’, you've got t'get married someday, n’ imma’ be the flower gal!”

all you can do is shake your head and accept the sweet kiss to the cheek she offers you before trotting back to your horse. mary-lou grew rather impatient! settling her brown and white spotted body to the ground awaiting your return. to be completely honest, you craved love. the partying, sex and relationships of college got old and moving here right after left you high and dry with the weight of ‘unlovable’ bearing down on your shoulders. the lack of men your age was . . . a troublesome dilemma but who were you to complain? you hiked yourself back onto mary-lou and continued your journey to the next cottage home.

looking over the blueberry skies and whipped cream clouds kept you in grandiose delusions of a love so pure and sweet, like powdered sugar that you could indulge in, maybe one day.

♡

“down girl, down!”

The rough, deep voice shakes the silence near the upcoming ranch. after your deliveries, you'd end up with a few apple-cherry tarts remaining, sometimes the neighbours are vacationing in the city, or insist you keep some! by this time, the sun shone fully now, its warmth tingling your skin. “awe, shucks, man!” another voice caused your brows to furrow, peering up ahead at the ranch . . . the one in which eleonora's grandson resided. from what you could see without the sun in your eyes, two men of tall statures– roughhousing with gorgeous horses. the one in the cowboy's hat was doing a terrible job of trying to calm one of them. their manes were a beautiful silky white, shining healthily under the sun as they lifted their front legs to the air before trotting around the . . . shirtless men again. mother would scold you now if she could see you openly ogling at the two, you push that thought to the back of your mind.

mary-lou slows on your command beside their ranch gate, huffing and happily shaking out her mane as she watches the other horses play. something possesses you to hop off with the remaining tarts, awkwardly shuffling to the fence– your pink-brown boots were worn mismatched to your strapless white lace top and similar mini-skirt. “uh . . . howdy there fellas!” both men turned to your direction, blocking their eyes from the sun and beginning to stroll over.

the closer view made your breath catch in your throat. the one on the left, you assume is el's grandson, his skin was a dark mahogany brown, he glistened slightly with sweat in the sun, deeply defined muscles prelude veins below his belly button then covered by bright blue jeans and black cowboy boots to match his hat.

he had a handsome face.

thick two-toned lips spread to reveal a bright smile, a few teeth plated with gold caps as he teased the man to his right. this man had dark, black, shining curls that rested atop his shoulders, two eyebrow slits decorated with piercings, matching ones on his . . . pretty lips. his skin was a dusted tan, sunkissed tone and he wore black jeans atop his brown boots. You couldn't miss the tattoos that crept up the side of his abdominals, you were curious.

“how c'n we help ya’, miss?” the left spoke up and your cheeks felt hot, it's been a while since you heard that pet name, you chalked it up to the blazing sun. “well, uh, you're eleonora's grandson, right?” you nibble on your nails nervously, he nods, “I just . . . thought it’d be nice to give y'all these extra treats i baked.” pushing the basket in their direction and allowing the dark haired one to peep under the cloth, he had a mischievous look to him and he elbowed the other in the ribs with a slick smile, “wass ya’ name, pretty? ‘m eren, dis is ony’,” he pointed between them, “ n’ y’made these y’self, ma’?” eren pulls out a tart, staring down at you through long eyelashes, “oh! uh I‘m [ ], n’ yes! I did n' I grew all'em fruits m'self too!” you bounce on the heels of your boots, nervously.

ony’ stays mostly quiet you've noticed, taking in your outfit as well, his eyes raking over you. eren warmly feeds him a bite of the tart as their horses trot over to mingle with mary-lou. “how long ya’ been livin’ ‘round here, sugar?” ony’ speaks up soft and mellow, grabbing himself his own tart to taste. eren reaches out to pet mary-lou. “i guess it’s been a about a year now! y’see i moved out ‘round here after college.” you nibbled your shiney bottom lip, “what ‘bout y’all? your grandma talks ‘bout you all the time, but, i ain’t really seen you round here?” you turn to eren who makes a kissy face at mary-lou before turning to you. “i mostly tend to the farm ma’, as y’can tell, ‘m better with the animals than ony’ here.” he flashes you a smile and props his arms against the fence biting his lip and lowering closer to your eye level. ony’ playfully smacks his arm, flashing a gorgeous smile with his gold teeth sparkling in the sun, “shut up, man.”

you look away quickly, catching yourself staring at his lips, he certainly doesn't miss it. you totally push the basket towards eren’s arms, “y’c’n have the basket y’know i always weave more, i’ve gotta get goin, now,” you rush, “wait– take m’ number, pretty,” eren offers before reciting it a couple times so you’ve got it down. “n’ which onna’ these ranches ‘s yours, mama?”, you're mounting mary-lou once more, “it's not too far! it's the ranch with the blue fence n’ the pond out front!”

♡

the days after that remained uneventful, with no deliveries of any kind, you preferred to remain on the ranch tending to the animals and house work. you'd never texted eren, only saved his number and stalked his contact profile . . . and opened his chat section many-a-times without saying anything. taking a liking to someone new is hard. you don't forget the many times a partner toyed with you, assuming innocence and naivity of you based soley off your appearance, then doing whatever they'd wanted behind your back. you were past that now, hopefully at least; the concrete walls you used to block others out wasn't something you'd liked to be reminded of.

padding out the back door, the coldness of the stone path chills beneath your bare feet. your toes painted with the cutest design within your artistic range, accompanied by the musical arrangement of your anklet. you pick up a dirtied bucket with the many things you'd needed to complete your chores for the morning, taking a long look at the expanse of the ranch.

a deep breath of clean air, healthy green fields relieve your eyes of their stress; partly cloudy skies was the forecast! weather for hanging outside, the cumulus clouds indicated it to be the perfect day for fishing too! the pond was still, the little lambs were just waking up in their pen, the gardenias were blooming; the white dexter cattle mulled around, seemingly bored behind the fence. just as you begin to walk by with the bucket of feed, the cows behind let out soft, deep ‘mooooo’s’: a ‘good morning!’ greeting in their own way. each receiving gentle pets to their fur.

your mental list of duties was shorter today: pet the cattle, inspect the lambs & brush their fur, throw feed for the chickens & clean their coupes, feed the dogs, feed the fish.

you couldn't help but wear your best little dress to do the tasks today, a simple white thing that cupped your breasts just right. “oh, how are ya’ buttercup!” you squealed in delight as the silky white wolf dog rushed up to lick your feet, his opposite onyx counterpart, bentley offered a short bark to show her delight, sitting peacefully and obediently. she'd recently fallen pregnant with pups, confusing as you'd given both animals the proper precautionary procedures! while filling their food bowls, you couldn't help but be reminded of eren and ony’. your toes dug into the grass a bit, excited at the idea of . . . sharing your home with someone else again. both men seemed pleasant, highly attractive, but feelings always confused you. perhaps they were only being decent human beings to you, nothing more.

to be honest, you hadn't had the best history with relationships. it's part of– it's one of the main reasons you'd decided to move out to the countryside. casual sex was fine, yeah, whatever, you enjoyed it. however, when it comes to your relationships, you refuse to believe you attract shitty people. from making fun of how excited your are by things, to the way you dressed, wore your makeup, your hair, how you cry— the whole works had been used against you. there was only so much of it you could handle. moving away meant . . . fresh start, new people, new experiences. and most importantly, a place where everyone did as they pleased. as much as people think gossip goes around in small villages, the country area was mostly pleasant. neighbours traded crops for items, enjoyed each other's company and minded their own business.

sitting beside the pond, bentley and buttercup eagerly cuddled up at your side; the joy this life brought you was comparable to hot chocolate at the end of a winter day. now you think about how long its been since you could cuddle someone on a cold day. it probably hasn't been since your mother was alive. now was a good time to visit eleonora.

♡

a raspberry lemon loaf warmed your hands as the weather began to cool. the trudge to eleonora's ranch was tranquil, pleasant animals, butterflies and chirping birds kept you occupied for most of it. that is, until your boots dragged to a stop in the dirt, noticing a familiar face in el's front yard.

onyankopon's hair was short, brushed into smooth waves atop his head and faded on the sides, revealed by the lack of cowboy hat. he was shirtless, once again, knee deep in the dirt of his grandmother's yard where he dug the soil for new plants. you swallow, nibbling a plump lip that made your mouth spring from the strawberry flavoured gloss. a colder breeze blew up under your thighs, blowing your simple little dress slightly; furrowing your brows with concern as you peered at the beautiful bright sky, you force yourself to walk up to the gate and begin to unlatch it.

eren's grassy green eyes meet you first, his hands busily feeding a plump cherry into his mouth. pretty pink lips sucked them in, unwelcoming to the juicy red droplets that escaped the cherry. he licks his lips to pull them in. you take a deep breath and focus on not dropping the raspberry lemon loaf. “h-hiya everybody!” you greet, noticing eleonora seated in her usual spot on the rocking chair of her porch while observing the two men.

you hold the loaf somewhat close to you and swallow hard, walking along the stone path of which both men were at either side of. ony’ in the dirt and eren manspreading on the front steps. you held eyes with the ground. “howdy ony’, eren, nice to see you two ‘gain,” you say in a pleasant mumble as you make way up the stairs to eleonora. “brought you this raspberry lemon loaf els’!” you look at her smiling slightly, caught off guard by that signature smug look she held. what insane thoughts about your love life could she be brewing now? the silence from the two men was noticeable too, you were sure they'd turn to look at you as you presented the treat for el’, “my, my! well doesn't this just look lovely!” she claps clammy hands clad in flower themed rings and laughs jolly. “ony’, son, could you get us some tissues n’ forks? oh- n’ eren darlin’ why don't you bring out the pitcher ‘f lemonade with s'm glasses.” the two men stand as she calls upon them, uttering out their deep ‘yes ma'am's’ as they towered above you in walking by. your eyes trailed them slightly before turning back to eleonora who never (not once) misses your silent pining.

ony’ wore his jeans low on his waist, the band of his boxers showed off its maker's name. eren, on the other hand, wore a white wife-beater below unbuckled blue overalls, leaving them hanging over at his waist. “so, have ya’ found y'self a boyfren’, honey?” eleanora asks somewhat loudly as the two men shuffle around the kitchen bearby and your eye widen. “now what kinda’ question is that els’?” you sputtered, “you know I haven't got one.” eleonora giggles like a school girl. you take a cool seat onto the steps. eren and ony’ share small smiles as they return with lemonade and dishes. ony’ takes a seat in a chair opposite eleonora, elevated above you whilst eren makes himself comfortable back in his spot across from you on the steps. raspberry lemon loaf is shared around with the cool glasses of not-too-sweet lemonade to wash it down, eating brought silence besides low groans from the two men who seemed to enjoy your baking. their groans were not sensual, but pressing your thighs together was still a must as a reaction to the unexpected sounds of pleasure. fuck, you felt like a creep. eleonora complimented your skills, asking, “[ ] , did ya’ grow these in the box gardens y'made?” you nod and swallow quickly, all attention to you as eren mumbles ‘box garden?'. ``yea els’, the box gardens ar’ doin’ great, but I've got some extra wood around I think I'mma try to make a few more like the boxes I bought from the market!” eleonora smiles as if she were expecting to hear you randomly bring up your recycling duties.

“ony’, can't you n’ eren build those boxes f’[ ]? I strongly believe lil’ ol’ her shouldn't handle all dat’ wood . . .” you internally blush deeply at the innuendo and take the final bite of your slice of the loaf. eren speaks up, “y'sure right on we can, els’ . . . y'okay wit’ us helpin’ y'out ma?” he takes a quick glance up at ony, locking eyes with him who also lets his stare above you burn into your scalp. “s– sure, I don't mind!” you mutter out lightly and eleonora gives a jolly clap, “well ain't that just darlin’! the day's young, y'all can get started right now!” you have to hold your breath to avoid your last sip of lemonade going down your larynx. the two men mentioned how they're not busy the rest of the day and wouldn't mind before you can even collect yourself. somehow, coming over to eleonora always results in you being roped into another scheme of hers.

and just like that, you found yourself on a quiet . . . and awkward walk back to your ranch with the two young men following closely behind you. anxiety bubbled in your stomach, clamping your lips shut to avoid letting the insecure feeling from escaping your lips. the nerves were getting to you with every second that passed by. “s-so, uh– wassup wit y'all ‘round here?” they both walk up to match your pace. “oh, well, ony here prefers to do all the technical shit like– fixin’ cars n’ all'at.” eren shoves his palms into the pockets of his overalls, walking up ahead where he could look back at the two of you while talking, he maintains glances with onyankopon that you just don't seem to understand. “I prefer to stay on the ranch n’ watch the animals– y'got any besides that horsie?”

“oh– yea i've got m’ horse, mary-lou, two wolfies: bentley n’ buttercup.” a sweet smile stretches on your face, tummy warming a bit. “oh! and I've got names f'all my fish in the pond, my little lambs– oh they're just the cutest! a–and my fluffy cows! they're lovely,” you clasp your hands in excitement, eyes following your footsteps, sputtering happily over the animals. “gosh, n’ I'm tryin’ out a little butterfly area in my front garden, but m’ not the best at it, can’t tame butterflies y’know— they pee on ya’ too! that's fuckin’ crazy,” you reveal with a giggle. as you look up to ask the two a question, you can't help but blush, embarrassingly at that. eren and ony stared at you with pleasant smiles, deeply dimpled too. “oh my, m’ sorry for my ramblin’ how rude of me–”,”no. no, keep talkin’ pretty.” ony's deep voice encourages you and you peer curiously at him: trying to figure him out. he turns away from you licking his lips and spares eren a look before he starts walking again. it urges you both to continue onto the ranch as well, eren shakes his head with a chuckle; he thinks he’s got a handful on his hands.

“y’got a boyfren’ ‘round here, [ ] ?” eren brushes hair over his shoulders, asking the question calmly whilst maintaining a look up the path, ony’s arm brushed yours as he walked close by. “well– no, what about you?” you melt your lips together before stuttering out,”wait, not– i mean, girlfriend . . . well– i don’t care–!” ony barks out a laugh while eren turns around to give you a bright smile, all three of you burst into giggles. “nah, no girlfren’ or boyfren’, ma’.” ony speaks up gently, “but, uh– me n’ E’ might be lookin’ for a third to make us official, i dunno.” your eyes widen but ony gives a nonchalant shrug, handsome face glowing with a smug smile like he didn't just drop #thebomb on you. it reminded you of his grandmother, you look to eren who’s looking back at you and onyankopon with just a slight grin and your breath catches in your throat. “oh! there’s the ranch just up ahead,” you blurt out and skip past eren, scurrying over to unlatch the gate to your front garden as the two followed you in.

now your heart felt like it could melt. like– like a huge strawberry ready to burst! what did ony’ mean by that? oh, how you felt like a dizzy little dove. luckily the dogs rushed up to you, excitable and ready to meet the new visitors who they eagerly sniffed. ony’ and eren were happy to roughhouse on sight laughing with the dogs and complimenting the patch of primula's you were trying to grow, the pretty pinki-ish flowers were just beautiful. you lead them through your home, overly conscious about each step you took while they surely eyed every nook and cranny of your decor. “um- y'guys need anything? I've got some snacks . . .”, “nah, we're good,” eren mumbled, sounding obviously distracted by their nosey observations of your living space. you hear the tone of your dryer going off just as you unlatch the netted back door that served as another layer next to the already opened wooden one.

“holy shit,” ony’ whispered, your organization of the backyard was impeccable. clean and solid fencing around the cows, plants on the left with storage on the other. you left the two to walk out into the cold breeze that passed by as they observe the surroundings and the pile of wood waiting for them; all while you quickly rushed to the laundry room nearby to dislodge your clothing and stuff them into a basket. you hurry back out to join them.

“so, here's one of the other boxes i made,” you gesture to the dirty box filled with planted Spanish thyme, “i know it looks kinda wonky but, hopefully you guys can do better,” you offer an awkward laugh and sit on the back steps, legs crossed.

eren and onyankopon share a look, then grab some planks bringing them more into your line of view with some of the tools nearby and sitting in the grass. even in your own home, you felt a little out of place. in silence, eren and ony’ shared alot of chemistry you didn't understand. despite this, what ony’ said on the way here never left your mind. “y'guys got alot ‘f experience . . . relationship-wise?” you scratch behind your ear. they worked separately lining up wood and nailing them into place, muscles working diligently. “mm, yea. ‘guess y'can say that ma',” eren glances at ony who hums low and offers you a small smile.

“it's jus’ that– ‘m thinkin’ ‘bout watchu said earlier . . .” you blink, fumbling, “unless that was like a joke ‘r somethin’—”

“i wasn't joking.” onyankopon confirms calmly, his jaw tight. you allow the silence to continue for a few beats, eyes flickering back and forth between the two and your hands petting the dogs that came to lay beside you. “we don't expect ya’ to jus’ trust us like that, missy,” eren offers gently, shoving his curls into a small bun and you nibble your bottom lip.

ony's brows furrow and he's hammering the last few nails into his box before he speaks up. “how c'n we get to know you ma’? me n’ E’ been . . . chillin’ for over a year. since college, actually, n’ we been watchin’ y'too. w’dont expect you to feel the way we do in 10 minutes or even in a day. let us get t'know you.” you squint a little.

“y'serious?” your chest feels a little hot and you're praying to the gods you don't fuck this up. “c's i don't intend on gettin played wit’ ‘specially not out here, y’hear me?” and you don't mean to raise your voice a little, the sounds just flow out. “hey, hey now,” eren pushes his finished work aside and stands, tugging his overalls up, hands resting on his hips. “we don't got no bad intentions, sugar, chill wit’ us,” and you blink up at him, unmoved.

“m'kay, let's just say i decided to ‘chill’ wit’ y'guys,” you stand up, fold your arms and start, “what exactly are we g'nna do, hm?” you look back and forth between them, not missing the way your buttercup whines on the steps where she lay, evidently fed up with all the chatter. “y'got 3 seconds n’ don't say sex. one,”

“who said anythin’ ‘bout sex?” ony’ joins you two as he puts the tools down, “two,” “yea, y'better shut that shit up. let's bake sumn together, show us around y'day, hang wit’ us at our ranch, talk about shit. fuck y’mean sex?” you stubbornly stay silent and stare. eren’s jaw bone pokes out with the way he clenches it. “we're not lookin’ for sex. if we wanted sex from you we coulda seduced you a long time ago, sugar,” he shrugs with a smile and you lick your lips, sighing. “okay, ‘m sorry. I’–I'm such a bad host,” you mutter out, “y'all want anything to eat? or some water.” you hear a low ‘okay’ from ony’ so you shuffle away to the kitchen to grab some bottles for them.

you tried to focus on the coldness of the bottles on the way back as a way to cool your temperament. “i moved out here wit’ intention ‘f startin’ fresh n’ shit.” you start, tossing them bottles before plopping yourself beside buttercup who nuzzled her cold nose into your thigh. the two men were sitting once again, evidently having spoken to each other in your absence.

your voice was shaky as you took a deep breath, garnering the courage to speak up for how you felt, “i'm tired of gettin’ dogged out, n’ played wit’ n’ allat bullshit.” you pout.

“‘m not exactly sure how gettin’ involved wit’ two handsom’ fellas is gonna help me figure out to– to i dunno, regulate m’ emotions.” you frown and shove some braids back behind your ear, “s’ like i damn near avoided it– i moved back t’the country damnit.” a sigh, “i cant just figure out how to adore n’ love– people again or if i'mma be able t'dish it out as much as before.”

“you get what i mean?” your ramble ceased as you finally look up from your focus on your knees and look back and forth between ony and eren. ony chuckles softly while eren offers you a smile and speaks up.

“we'll take it slow, you'n gotta ‘love’ anybody yet, mama,” ony nods at his words, “gotta build a friendship wit'chu first, we not playin’ ‘round.”

♡

a week or so passes in which life goes by as normal. you spend your days busying yourself with gardening and grooming your animals, baking treats and new concoctions. the only exception is eren and onyankopon have somehow easily squeezed themselves into your life.

on your deliveries you hear, “howdy, ma',” they chase across their lawn and hop across the fence to drag you inside and sit you down in the warm house where the two eagerly pester you to try the . . . ‘shrimp alfredo’ they whipped up.

thus, the two would end up in your kitchen, breathing over your hair whilst you instructed them on the proper technique. “naw, i don’ told E to do all'at,” onyankopon protests. so too do they pester mary-lou and your dogs, roughhousing and giving them baths much to their dismay.

through many experiences you learn, onyankopon isn't particularly fond of being tickled, or of wearing shirts. he stays shirtless almost all twenty-four hours of the day and you can only avert your eyes. eren is obsessed with overalls and has an array of them: gray ones, distressed ones, short ones, and he never buckles them properly.. on the ranch, the two gorgeous white haired horses were named armin and reiner, two friends they shared from college. sparkling like diamonds as you're given the opportunity to ride them each around the boys’ ranch in the golden sun. you'd also learned that the two were sexually . . . fluid, they'd called it. vaguely, they'd mentioned their sex lives and based on what they said you couldn't help but assume they were talking about each other. who else was there out here except you?

“yeeehaw! can't catch up, can'ya’?” eren howls and shouts as he trots across the ranch on his horse, ony lagging behind in the chase. here you sat on a wooden little bench near the steps of ony' and eren's ranch; clad in a simple white cropped tank and blue jeans with a chunky belt, your cream coloured cowboy hat sit pretty atop your head. a pretty calico cat licked at your bare feet and nudged you for pets.

at this point, you felt yourself slipping. it was obvious by now you'd grown to enjoy each other's company and serious conversations were imminent.

what were we, how will the dynamics work, what would they expect from you? just then you felt a tap to your forehead.

“heya, girlie,” eren squats down before you to grab your attention, “watchu, thinkin’ ‘bout,” ony’ mumbled, toying with a toothpick between his teeth.

you smack glossy lips together, “jus’. . . ‘bout us three y'know? how- like, where do we go fr'm here huh?” your eyes flutter, cheeks warming. you feel the silence actually, eren and ony’ are doing that stupid thing where they talk to each other with their eyes.

butterflies flap their wings about, joyous as ever. it makes you smile a little, as you're beginning to grow nervous. “let's talk inside ma’,” onyankopon suggests, stepping past you into the house where eren follows.

“me n’ ‘ren c'n take care ‘f each other n’ you, know that?”

you all shuffle onto the dark gray couch in the living space. ony’ and eren's ranch had a deep modern aesthetic. dark oak accents adorned both the outside and inside, complimented by gray and brown shades of furniture.

“i know that . . . ,” you pout,

“so wassup,” eren stares you down, the emerald swirl of his eyes warmed your belly yet you couldn't maintain eye contact with him for long, eren just had that kind of stare without realizing it himself.

“‘m g'nna be frank, ion wanna impose on nothin’ y'folks got . . . n’ my past relationships ain't been the best.” you huff and continue, “‘m jus’ puttin’ that out there. i feel like we've been talkin’ for a while n' I'm fond of y'all.”

“i jus’ don't wanna be the one to mess things up,” you finish in a whisper.

onyankopon hums low and eren plays with his lip ring, “n’ das’ all, girlie?” he asks and pursed his lips, dimple deepening at that. you give a nod and a small ‘yup’ while intertwining your hands onto your knees that were pressed together. “y’ talk to us, we talk to you, got that? if it's an issue y'got: don't hesitate to let us know,” ony’ iterates.

eren makes a noise of agreement, “y’communicate everythin’ wit us, sugar, we're serious,” and you nod slowly. “‘kay . . . i get that,” your eyes feel a little wet with emotion, ones you're not too sure of yourself.

you were happy to hear them affirming their commitment yet still anxious for the future. regardless, you couldn't help but lurch forward, you grab the back of eren's neck to press a sweet strawberry jelly flavoured kiss to his cheek, leaving a baby pink glossy print on his cheek along with a loud ‘mwah’ as you smiled. similarly, you crawl over his lap to do the same to ony’ who only bit back a grin, gold capped teeth glistening in the light much like the glossed smudge on his face.

♡

inevitably came the days you'd call the ‘honeymoon’ phase in a relationship, except it lasted what felt like forever.

these days you preferred to be cuddled up in your bedroom, legs being warmed by a black, gray and white blanket you were committed to crocheting. with a couple dark, gloomy days where the usual creamy clouds frowned down on you, the animals often retreated to their pens and little beds of hay to seek warmed from stormy weather. buttercup and bently invaded each others personal space in their dog beds down at the living room, you smile a little at the thought.

“yeen gotta be like that, ony’,” you hear eren groan in a mischievous pout as the two men exit your bathroom smelling of your bath soap. onyankopon mumbles something of ‘’s a stupid idea’. you giggle under your breath, hands hard at work weaving and looping the thick yarn for the blanket.

“ [ ] , watchu’ think, sugar?” eren plops himself onto the bed, “hm?” still fixated on your progress, ony’ huffs from his seat on the ottoman, lotioning his chest and arms then turning back to rub some excess onto eren's foot. “i told ony’, let's take the horses f’ a ride, ma’, he talkin’ bout ‘oh it's rainy’, i think it'll be chill,” he smiles big and winks expecting something of an applause for his great idea of fun.

“ion mind whateva’ y'guys wanna do, jus’ once we shower ‘gain after, ‘fore we get sick,” you shake your head at the thought. ony’ smacks his teeth, “c'mon, don't support him.”

“what, playin’ in the rain is fun, baby!” you chuckle, eren simply props his head on his palm, enthralled by your meticulous work. regardless, he nods mindlessly in agreement at the discussion.

just like that, cowboy hats and boots were thrown on and you head down to the stables to round up the horses. ony’ and eren raced each other down to them before you could even get a word in. the thought reminded you of buttercup and bently who currently settled and slept with one's head atop the other.

the fresh rain smell hits your nostrils quickly, smelling of the humidity off the grass and pitch of the street. you could audibly hear the wind bristling about the bushes as it cooled your skin. all you wore was a thin white tank top, jeans along with your classic pink-brown boots to match your hat. eren and ony’ warmed up the horses, encouraging mary-lou to shake out her mane and trot a little. onyankopon was seated by reiner, rubbing at his legs to warm him a bit and doing the same to armin. of course, you stare unabashedly, his muscles (unclothed) bulged with each motion, waistline visible amid his jeans.

you stare so much so, that you don't even notice eren come up to your side to press a wet kiss to your neck, he wraps an arm around your shoulders and gives your ear a kiss too, “starin’ at my man, girlie?” he laughs boyishly and you swat him, “dat’s m’ man too, freak,” he gasps falsely at the insult and you speed off to grab the harness for mary-lou; ony’ pretends he didn't hear the bickering and mounts his horse.

“s’ not rainin’ all too much now, see?” eren comments, scooping his hair back into a low bun under his hat. the three of you clicked and clocked through the damp grass and onto the street, letting the drizzle of rain moisten your skin with each speckle. you gnaw at your bottom lip, lost in thought as you trail behind the two men. at the same time, another cold gust would brush past you three, drying your skin again. yet, as you flinch when a particularly large droplet mands on your cheek, the rain picks up again and you smile.

sometimes moments like these felt so good, connecting with nature and taking in the beauty of the weather. it didn't stop you from being distracted, eren's white wife-beater was getting soaked. the tattoos creeping up his side peaked through the material and stared right back at you. you bitr back a groan and cover your warming face with your palms, wiping it clean of rain, while eren and onyankopon fall back on their horses. the peaceful silence with nothing but the ‘tock’ of the horses’ hooves kept your mind wandering.

now drenched, you could only imagine peeling off these clothes, a strap of your flimsy little tank top blew off your shoulder, and you felt the material sticking to the bulge of your breasts nestled in your black bra that now stood out ten times as much. god, you felt like a fuckin’ pervert. you couldn't even bring yourself to look down at your own chest, feeling scandalized enough. something about thinking of yourself in . . . near erotic situations such as this made your clit thump like a sweet little rabbit's nose.

nonetheless, you ignore it and allow the rocking atop mary-lou as she walks to distract you. onyankopon rides his horse nearer to yours and eren does the same, you gasp under your breath when ony’ nudges you. “wassup,” he murmured, “nothin’ ‘m jus’ distracted.” you comment plainly and eren huffs out a laugh beside you.

all you do is stare down at mary-lou and pet her mane, the pulse between your legs pushed to the back of your mind. “y'so bad at lyin’, know that?” eren laughs, you blush and groan, “no ‘m not, shut up,”

“chill, chill,” ony’ whispers, in his stupid, sexy, amazing, deep voice and you let out a big shuddering breath. as you're riding you feel ony's wet bicep brushing against yours. this had to be the end of you.

ony’ reaches an arm behind you, stretching to meanly pinch eren's shoulder. you're not sure what that meant but you didn't care to know. “where we ridin’ to?” you ask, rubbing glossy lips together. “mm, let's jus’ head to me n’ ony's ranch,”

“kay,” you settle with that, sweet n’ soft.

“wanna race, jaeger?” ony’ slips in lowly, pulling ahead and looking back at you two with his. . . stupid handsome smile, “h- hey now, let's not–” and you're interrupted by shouts, “let's go!” eren pulls off.

you groan softly, hiking up mary-lou’s harness a bit as you begin to gallop behind the two men. the raindrops stung against your skin and you whined trying to catch up to the two and your breaths harsh. with each hard breath you let out you couldn't help but let it bubble up into laughter, you just felt so good.

you felt giddy, blinking away raindrops that attacked at your eyes and racing past the two men, who yelled and called out to you, “yo, ma’ we gon' catch up,” ony's cowboy hat flies back behind his head, held up by the string beneath his string as he pulls the white horse forward chasing after you.

the three of you speed past grunge fencings and rosey bushes all bowing their heads now from the deluge. your tank top was completely soaked, and you imagine so was eren's when you pulled in the gates of their ranch and headed around back where you could free mary-lou to run around in the fenced horse enclosure.

you sit on the ground and linger near the side of the house by some plants, boots kicking about scattered hay and picking up sticky mud. eren and ony’ pull in the same time, wet chests heaving and eyeing you as they quickly hop off and lead their horses to the enclosure. “you win, watchu want?” eren huffs out, swinging his hat off and tossing it to the side, letting the rain seep into his curls. “hm?” you moan while rain kisses you, “i get a prize?”

he nods and slumping down against the wall next to you and propping his arm on a plant. you take the time to stare at his pecs . . . light brown nipples peaking through at you. eren catches you staring, it forces you to look away quick and brush a wet braid out of your face just as ony’ arrives.

“yall chillin’?”

“yea . . . mama's chillin’ alright,” eren smiles up at ony who lays in the grass beside you. “she baskin’ in her– win,” eren laments, reaching forward to tickle you and you bark out laughter lurching at him. his fingers pet your ribcage and you grab eren's shoulders, “what the– fuck! eren!” you squeal and wrangle with him. ony’ sits in the wet dirt beside you guys with his hands resting behind his head, basking in the rain and ignoring the shoves and pushes nudging him.

“i swear t’ god ‘ren, you– ack!” eren flips you on your back and you land hard with your head on ony's thigh while he wrangles your hands above your head. digging your feet in the ground for leverage couldn't help with the mud slipping beneath you. onyankopon only hums in amusement, watching you stop struggling beneath eren, your chests bouncing with gasps of air.

“you . . . y'know that's not fair, eren,” “i know what's not fair, sugar?” he stares you down, grip on your wrists tight with his chest pressing against yours. the swell of your breasts popped out of your tank top, glistening and sticky when it touched his skin. “mmm, you want somethin’?” he sucks his lip rings into his mouth teasing you, eyes wide and glossed over, throat drying. you lick your lips and slip from his grasp, sitting up and leaning your back onto ony's chest. just as you make that decision you swallow hard feeling his wet chest through your thin top. you wipe some wetness off your forehead evidently applying some mud that was on your arm to the spot.

you catch your breath, rubbing dirtied arms onto your shirt to clean them as best you could. you felt filthy but god, your fat little cunt ached laying in the dirt.

“onyan'” you call out to the man behind you with your eyes trained on eren who simply sits back smiling impishly at you, “yea, sugar?”

“wan’ m’ prize,” it comes out in a whine.

“yeah? ‘n what's that gon’ be,” he murmurs low in your ear, eren still hears him. you let out a ‘hmph!’ deep in your throat. then, you drag dirty hands against your tank top before peeling it off you and above your head, tossing it into some grass elsewhere.

crawling on your knees, ass arching in ony's direction, you gesture to eren with a finger, “come here, c'mon,” and you grab the back of his neck, kissing up his sweaty wet throat licking and sucking up anything your mouth touched. you press your lips to eren's, cold wet metal between you two when you let his tongue into your mouth, sucking it up when your lips lock hot.

eren groans into your mouth, hand gripping at your ass concealed by your jeans and he falls back into the mud. you reveled in the slick sound of your lips separating from each other, tuning out how soaked your jeans were getting in the rain. the ambient pelting sound on the rooftops only edged you on further, sitting in eren's lap.

“fuck, you're nasty,” eren mumbles against your lips when you pull away for a second, fingers toggling with the buttons on his jeans. he resists a big smile, elbows resting in the muddied dirt to hold himself up while you roughly tug his jeans down a bit. just enough room for you to reach his dick.

“see how she treatin’ me, ony'?” eren wipes rain off his nose, locking heavy-lidded eyes with onyankopon then down at you, “she roughin’ me up ‘cause she won,” he grumbles and you pull his cock out.

eren flinches when his dick is exposed to the rain, tan-brown tip oozing pre mixed with droplets. your knees dug into the mud beneath you, ass arching up. you stare shamelessly at eren's dick, letting the saliva build up about your tongue while you press a few kisses to the tip. his breath shudders above you, leaning his head back for the rain to fall on his face. “c'mon, pretty, do watchu want,” you grip him tight, feeling like your palm could memorize the girth and veins that popped out. then, tugging him up slightly, you slot your mouth in the gap between the bottom of his dick to his balls. sucking on the skin, you let you built up salivation drip down his balls, slurping the heavy sack onto your tongue.

you suck eren's balls into your mouth, swirling your tongue around mounds and his mouth drops open revealing his tongue ring. he grins, giving you a loud shameless groan, he was certainly showing off for ony’ who sit behind you watching. “suck it like dat, yea,” eren mumbles to you, licking the rainwater off his lips. he lets you have your way a bit more, focused on your features: the way the rain made your eyelashes clump together, the droplets sliding down your nose, to the spitty goop around your mouth all over his balls.

“c'mon, c'mon,” he pulls your mouth off him with a hand gripping the base of your hair, licking the splittle off your chin then kissing it into your mouth and swallowing your whines. “y' fuckin’ nasty, jaeger,” onyankopon mutters lowly behind you and eren bites back a smile. “filthy ass, take that shit off,” you up off your knees, flopping back on your ass where you fiddle with the buttons on your jeans.

your cheeks burned, both eren and ony's eyes grilled into you and everywhere you touched got streaks of mud in it after having your hands dig into the sopping ground. on your arms, your boobs, eren's shirt. slowly, you shucked your jeans down, slipping them past your ankles along with your boots. your panties were stuck up your ass when you sit in some wet patches of dirty hay, tossing the jeans aside realizing you wore significantly less than the other two men with rain beating all over you.

eren and ony’ share a look then eren's the first to lurch forward gripping your legs with his muddied hands, pushing you back to lay in the dirt and kissing about the clear parts of your belly. he nips at the swell of your breasts in your bra, sucking and kissing wherever he saw fit. “er– eren,” he's prying your legs apart, pushing them ‘till your knees were besides your ears. “eren, stop–,” then he's plucking your panties out your ass and sliding them up your thighs, he stretches the thin little things beyond repair to sling them off your ankles. “what the fuck,” you whisper, eren's fucking unreachable n’ you're both staring at your fat puffy cunt. he takes a second to look to the side at ony’ before returning his attention to your pussy, sprinkles of water sliding down, yet the blubber of slick collected between your lips was noticeable.

the pretty thing was so fat your hardened clit could barely peak through. eren dips his tongue deep, digging at your hole then dragging his tongue through your folds illiciting a low gasp. the cold metal bar in his tongue nudged at your clit. he curled his tongue around the bundle of nerves, giving it a few flicks before spitting and licking another strop up your cunt. “feels– fuckin’ good, eren, oh,” you whimper, his gentle motions paired with the ambient beating of rain against your skin had you on a high. he shakes his head side in your cunt, arousal making sticky strings beside his cheeks as his nose nudges the fat of your pussy. “holy shit,” you press your head into the soft ground beneath you, eyelids fluttering shut when eren suckles softly on your clit. you hum and moan, licking your lips and feeling your head spin, “‘ren . . . oh my god,” he slurps noisily suctioning his mouth over your pussy, sucking hard over and over and over again relishing in the throb of your clit against his tongue.

“he knows, baby,” ony’ murmurs and your mouth drops open with a loud moan, his voice just did something for you. you felt the muscles in your legs twitch, itching to close them with each swipe of eren's tongue and swirling pleasure in your tummy. your hands dig into the dirt behind you, legs quivering.

“tastes fuckin’ good don't it?” he's mumbling and eren's groans into your pussy sends shockwaves against your clit, he nods vigorously. “ohh– shit,” you sit up on your elbows digging in the mud, hair soaked and heavy and your legs only spread wider; your eyes trained on eren's tongue making sloppy circles around the fat mound in your pussy.

eager, you slip your hands into eren's wet curls, stuffing his face into your cunt, “eren, eren– yea-ah!” his groans rumble in his throat and here came the fucking waterworks. your climax comes hard along with several slick kisses to your clit, beads of sweat and rain slipping down between a furrowed brow and a guttural moan ripping from your throat.

eren's mouth releases its latch onto you, your legs flopping into puddles of dirt beneath you. “prepped her f'you,” eren licks his lips and looks to onyankopon who sits there with a fat bulge beneath his jeans although unbuttoned.

“mm yeah?,” you both shuffle over to the wet patch of hay ony’ sat in, slightly less soaked albeit equally as muddy.

onyankopon gestures to eren with two fingers as he lifts himself up, brushing water from his face and allowing eren to take a seat against the wall. your eyes flicker between them, sitting with your butt resting on the heels of your feet feeling exposed. it doesn't help that eren reaches behind you to unhook your bra, your cheeks feel hot. nevertheless, you slip them off your arms.

onyankopon shucks down his jeans just below his ass, “ [ ], come right here,” walking on your knees you shuffle forward to ony’ who puts a hand above the swell of your ass, pressing his bare chest to yours. ony's gaze is something serious, he bends his neck and clasps his lips to yours. it's slow, methodical and hot. onyankopon breathes deep and groans into your mouth. your body goes limp a little: drooping in his grasp and relaxing against his body as his tongue gently guided yours against his own. “mhm, okay . . . okay,” he presses a few kisses to your lips with a squeeze around your throat as he weans you off his mouth.

“turn ‘round,”

you whine, “w'nna look at'chu,”

ony's unmoved, he swallows, “look at ‘ren, baby,” and he guides you as you turn in the slippery mud to arch your ass up to him, his palm glides down the small of your back deepening that arch while your head rests on your folded arms before you. the position makes it hard for you to focus properly on eren, you peep at him through your eyelashes.

your cunt is sticky, swollen lips bound together by the white film of your arousal after the orgasm eren gave you, and you feel ony's hands kneading your ass. he spreads them, watching your pussy lightly spread open with it. you hear his belt buckle jingle slightly as his hands continue to massage your back right along with the downpour. ony’ grips his cock in his hands, tugging the thick thing lightly a couple times. he catches eren staring as he pumps it harshly before pressing the fat tip against you.

“fuuuck,” ony’ slaps his cockhead at your entrance letting it get coated by your arousal before slipping the first inch in slowly and already you're speechless. “holy– shit,” your cunt stretched to accommodate the girth and ony’ grips the curve of your back for leverage, letting out a guttural groan while slowly inching into you.

he sits in it for a moment, allowing you just a moment to familiarize yourself with the fat pipe he just lay in you; then, he's pulling out slowly and pushing in again and you whine. “what the fuck,” you feel ony’ lean his weight over you, and you gasp as he starts smacking his hips to your ass.

paired with the wetness of the rain, his hips leave a stinging slap against you and you're faltering with your tits mushed against the mud. eren left your pussy sloppy, your cunt whipping up loads of cream slick around ony's cock and your mouth is just ajar. jaw tightening with shallow, whiny moans cascading past your lips, ‘ah's and ‘oh's are all the men hear. “mm, ony’,” you try to murmur, body giving way fully to the mud beneath and ony's grip on your tightens,”watchu’ want, hm',” he grumbles.

oh how he knows nothing of the way your clit throbs everytime his heavy balls slap against your cunt.

“wan'— wan’ it deeper, please,” and you gasp hard when ony’s hand comes up to your ass, digging his thumb into the curled rim of your butt before bringing a foot to the ground for leverage; his ankle beside your ear, you eagerly grab onto it. “got fuckin’ good manners, don't she?” he grunts out, and the other man nods.

onyankopon gives you two warning strokes, pressing his cock to the hilt and curling his thumb inside your ass and you feel overwhelmed. then, you gasp in a loud sob as ony’ starts drilling his cock deeper into you, his hips smack you hard and his weight presses you everytime he drives his cock in. “fuck, fuck–,” you're squealing, hands draw digs into the mud as you can't help but writhe against the mud. “feel good?” you all but whine in response, “feel fuckin' good?” “ye- yes!” you mewl out. ony’s muscles contract and you can see it in his leg, intent on keeping you from sliding away from him under the soaked muddy slop.

the noises are . . . obscene. pornographic bursts of air shooting out amidst the stirring up of your melting cunt and your cheeks burn with embarrassment along with fresh tears streaming but you're breathless. “so fuckin’ loud,” ony’ mumurs, his lips curling into a smile when he hears the noises you make.

“m’– fuck, m’ sorry,” you weep and your walls squeeze ony’ tight. you feel a glob of slick collect at the tippy top of your cunt, the fat bulge of your clit and stickily drip down onto the ground with each rock of your bodies. “takin’ m'shit fuckin’ good, sugar,” onyankopon drawls low and you sob.

you hear him whistle above you and with a quickness eren's pants come into view. he sits, legs spread with his groin in line with your face against the ground. he scoots forward enough so he can lift your head and replace the mud beneath your nose with the musk of his balls. “‘ren, ‘ren, ren,” you're chanting, itching for your orgasm approaching with each quick and sloppy drag of cock in you. “m” right here, girlie,” ony's pummeling you from behind and your drooly mouth now has eren's pretty tanned cock slapping against it. “holy– fuck, hng- shit,” you mutter out before you're latching your lips onto eren's tip, inviting him into your mouth. he controls it, gripping your braids and rocking your head onto his dick.

“c'mon, c'mon, takin’ that shit s'fuckin’ good,” eren praises when he starts to snap his hips into your mouth, matching ony's strokes. he strokes your soaked hair gently, juxtaposing the nasty aggression each rock of his hips brought. you gagged, muffled, globs of spit streaking down your chin as you relaxed your throat for eren's dick. in the same way, you're making a mess on ony's cock, coating his length in hot creamy release that trickled down your own cunt. “she's fuckin’ creamin' on it, E',” and you moan when eren laughs cruelly above you, “cream on y’fuckin’ cock, ma’,” he grunts.

each drag of cock against the ridges of your cunt, the slosh of your mouth had you moaning in a frenzy. “was’ ya’ problem, huh?” eren groans out, and onyankopon knows exactly what your problem is.

“mama's bout to fuckin’ nut, huh?” he can feel the extra squeeze around his cock and rolls his neck to let some rain coat his face and distract him from his own ache. they listen to how you squeal around eren's cock, hands grabbing at his jeans and ony’ pumps his thumb into your ass consistency.

“mmm, fuck,” onyankopon hums, angling himself so the curve of his cock digs at you just right, and he smiles: satisfied when you start to squirm and fuss beneath him. eren pulls you off and you sob, coughing a little to clear your larynx. you whimper as eren all but ruts against your face. “keep her right fuckin’ there,” ony’ groans and you grasp onto eren's jeans, cunt twitching with each movement yet eren forces your shoulders back to keep your body where ony’ wants you: daggering his cock into you with a forcefull quickness that eren's rutting mimics.

“ohmygod, oh!” you blubber out, chanting ‘shit, shit, shit's

“gon’ leave you fuckin’ gapin’, quit playin’,” and you weep.

your hips twitch and you feel the knot in your stomach stiffening, “wan’ you're cum, want y'all's c–cum, fuckkk,” wail into eren's skin and take his cock back into your mouth just as your cunt spurts and your ears feel clogged from the rush of blood to your abdomen. “take it, take it, take that cum, baby,” eren groans. you felt light-headed, stars twinkling at you around the edges of your vision as your eyes rolled and soon you were forced to blink away the brain fog to swallow the thick loads eren gushes into your mouth.

he whines, unabashedly and onyankopon gives you a couple more strokes before his cock is digging into you to bury his surge of cum into you with a hiss.

eren falls back, letting you catch your breath and stroking rain away from your face. ony’ pulls out quick before you start to get sore, giving your cunt a few wet slaps before eren's pulling your limp aching body onto him to give you some relief. “gotchu’, gotchu’.” he consoles.

“c'mon, E,” ony’ rushes, “huh?”

“gotta’ get out the fuckin’ rain,” he puffs out a laugh before he's lifting you off eren. they both try not to slip in the mud, hurrying off into the ranch for long hot showers.

1K notes · View notes

bookshelf-dust · 6 months ago

Text

kiss him with chocolate lips

billy hargrove x fem!reader

gif by @biillys

word count: 1,837

warnings: swearing, some sexual references/themes, allusions to sexy adult things, play-fighting, reader and billy being in love and that love language is being little shits to each other (also acts of service), smooching and one use of the word saliva

synopsis: you decide to bake cookies, and billy decides he must be included, but you’d never let your cookies perish in return for an insatiable man.

a/n: hii!! i came up with a few lines of dialogue for billy a little bit ago, and then they just sat in my notes app because i couldn’t think of what to do with them. halfway through writing this, something i wanted to be sweet and silly, i felt lost and didn’t know how to end it or where to go with it, and started looking for inspiration. but then it came to me! and i’m very happy with how this turned out. i hope you like it! happy reading <33

————

Your hands are buried wrist deep in cookie dough, because you got sick of the shitty spatula not doing its job.

You keep folding it in and over itself, trying to get all the chocolate chips and dry ingredients properly combined. You feel like the cookies just don’t turn out right if you don’t get in there and make sure it’s the way it’s meant to be.

You reach over and grab a handful of mini chips to toss in your mouth. You have this mixture of regular size ones, minis, and chunks that you swear by.

“You missed the bowl.”

A pair of large, warm hands slide over your waist, pinkies grazing over that spot where your pelvis dips because they know that’s your ticklish spot and just want to see you squirm.

“Fuck off, prick.”

Billy smiles into the soft and slightly sweaty skin of your neck, peppering kisses in a trail from your collarbone to your earlobe. You nudge him with your shoulder, trying to ward him off.

He licks a stripe up the back of your neck. And if you weren’t making an effort to look annoyed by his presence, your eyes might’ve just rolled back into your head.

Instead you let out a sort of strangled howl to emphasize your agony. You are busy, after all. Making cookies you know he’ll eat before you can have any for yourself. You’ll have to hide some this time.

You elbow Billy in the stomach, but his hands never leave your hips. He’s chuckling lightly, enjoying every minute of teasing you and being the biggest nuisance he can be.

“I should castrate you,” you say, rubbing your nose with your forearm to avoid spreading cookie dough all over your face.

Billy laughs into your neck, the tip of his nose cold against your warm skin. “Oh, but you like that part of me too much, baby.”

You scoff. “Dick.”

He places a finger on your chin so that you’ll meet his gaze. “Exactly.”

“I hate you,” you say, your eyes boring into his and saying anything but. They’re practically twinkling just looking at him.

He hooks another finger under your chin and coaxes you closer, “I know,” he smiles, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that tastes like chocolate chips.

The flavor being on his mouth makes you pull away in shock. You put your hands on your hips and feign being absolutely appalled and ashamed.

“You come in here, on my ass, when yours has been fillin’ up on chocolate for how long?” You raise up on your tippy toes, trying your best to get in his face. He bends slightly to make it easier for you.

His gaze drags over each of your pretty features in that way he knows gives you goosebumps. “You think you just get to eat ‘em all or something?”

You press your hand to his chest. “I bought the damn things, Hargrove. And I think, as the woman making the cookies, I’m entitled to eat as many chocolate chips as I want.”

Billy leans in again and kisses you, but this time it’s slow, too slow, and sensual. The kind that feels like it lasts forever but in reality was a few seconds. One that really should last forever. It makes your brain go all fuzzy.

He drags his hand up your spine and pulls back. “Yes, ma’am.”

Your stomach flips, your blood rushing to all the important parts of your body because he knows just what buttons to push and you despise him for it. Cocky little shit.

“Now look who can use his manners,” you say, your voice taking on a sing-songy lilt. Billy grins at you, biting his lip, and then returns to his place behind you.

You both settle down, quieting and melting into each other's presence. Billy watches over your shoulder as you pour in more chocolate chips. He knows you always hate it when people cheat you out of your chocolate.

“I need a tray, B, can you get one for me?”

He pats your ass and moves to the designated cabinet without answering. He rips out a sheet of parchment paper without you having to ask. You always say that the bottoms don’t burn as easily that way, or you quote something from a cooking show you watched on tv that morning.

He brings the cookie sheet back to you and then pushes up so he’s sitting on the counter next to you, bare thighs pressing into the cold stone.

You pass him the rest of the chocolate chips to snack on and bend to kiss his knee. He blushes. You’ve been together for a few years now, but each time you give him affection in small, uncommon ways, it makes him feel like teenage boy.

Billy watches you separate the dough into even-ish chunks before sliding it all into the oven. He tilts his head back and tosses the rest of the chocolate chips into his mouth before hopping down from the counter.

He grabs your hips when he sees you move toward the sink. “Uh, uh. Go sit, mama. I’ll take care of it.” He knows you’re going to push back, and before you can he picks you up and places you in the living room.

You let out a small huff and walk right back to your starting point. There aren’t even that many dishes to wash anyway, but what’s the fun in cooperating with him?

“Billy.”

“Hm?” He’s squeezing soap all over the dishes you’d already pre-rinsed.

“Go sit your pretty ass down and let me do this.” You hear him laugh over the sound of the tap running and roll your eyes. He feels it. And he ignores you, squeezing out a sponge.

You wrap your arms around his waist and pull, trying to lift him up the way he had with you just moments before. You manage to heave him up just enough that his toes leave the tile and he cackles at your effort to be such an adorable irritant.

He looks at you over his shoulder, your brow creased in concentration, the tip of your tongue sticking out just slightly. “How’s that workin’ out for ya, princess?”

“It’s not my fault you’re so big and heavy and strong.”

His ego practically skyrockets, his brain picking out any bit of flattery you’ll offer him.

“Big and strong, huh?”

You cross your arms and spin around, hiding your wide smile before he can catch a glimpse at it. At how pleased you are to have riled him up. You let out a little petulant “Hmph!” and start to pad away. You know what’s coming though, and you try to pick up speed before you can be captured.

Billy’s arms are around your thighs in seconds. He’s managed to turn you around and lift you up, throwing you over your shoulder like it’s nothing, like this is a normal daily task. “I’ll show you big and strong, pretty baby.”

You beat playfully on his lower back, fighting off a fit of giggles. “Billy! Put me down motherfucker!” He’s laughing too, all too pleased with himself for being able to get you like this.

He pulls you down so you’re hanging onto his front and starts maneuvering you onto the couch. Your every nerve ending lights up when you feel Billy’s hand at the crown of your head, cradling you as he sets you down.

The gentle manner in which he handles you does not correlate to the way he kisses you.

Billy settles between your legs, grabbing your arms and coaxing them around his neck. He’s giving you a job, giving you instructions, and it makes your brain go quiet. Honing in on him, and nothing else. He’s all you can see, all you can smell, all you’re capable of thinking about.

One of his hands slips beneath your t-shirt and settles against the dip of your spine, allowing him to pull you upward, allowing him to mold your body to his without you even having to put in the effort to arch your back and meet him.

The other slips into the hair at the base of your neck, fingernails scratching over your scalp to get the goosebumps going, the heel of his hand rubbing determinedly at your skin, massaging it and reveling in the heat radiating off of you.

Each time you try to say something, Billy kisses you harder, laughing into your mouth. He’s getting sloppy, losing himself in the taste of chocolate and lip balm and you.

He sucks on your bottom lip, nips at it with his teeth, and it makes you let out a small, quiet moan. Billy slaps your thigh and you pull his hair. He groans, loud and unashamed. He shoves his knee in between your legs, meets the hottest, softest part of you and—

The timer on the microwave goes off.

Your cookies are finished.

You pull back from Billy’s warm mouth, because you can’t let your cookies burn. What kind of monster would you be, letting cookies perish for a man? Absolutely not.

His lips are still in a pout and there’s a string of saliva connecting the both of you.

Instead of laughing like you want, you groan, “Oh dear Christ, ew, Billy.”

While he’s processing that you just said “ew” to him, you slide out from underneath his arms and race to pull the finished cookies from the oven.

You’re carefully picking each cookie up and setting them on a cooling rack so they’ll become edible—without burning the skin off the roof of your mouth—sooner rather than later.

Billy finally appears in the kitchen and puts a hand against the counter. His brow creases like he’s just been told something very serious, though his mussed hair and flushed cheeks say otherwise.

“Did you just say ew to me, baby?” An evil smirk starts to appear on his face and he closes in on you. “You definitely don’t think it’s gross when I spit on your—”

You shove a warm cookie into his mouth before he can finish that sentence. His face takes on a comical expression of his surprise, but he happily chews on the melting chocolate chips you’ve provided him with. He does like the warm cookies the best.

You reach for a towel to clean off his face, but he moves too fast.

Billy is kissing you all over, your neck, your collarbones, your cheeks and forehead. He’s doing his damndest to get chocolate all over you as payback for your teasing little attitude.

“Billy!” you squeal, giggling and shrieking with joy.

“Take it back! Take back that fucking ew, princess, and you can go!” He’s cackling, tickling your sides.

“Okay, okay! I love your nasty ass, I do! Let me go!”

He removes his fingers from your hips and starts to wipe off your face with a wet cloth while you both catch your breath.

“Damn right you do.”

————

tagging: @clovermunson (i got you bestie)

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

#savannah’s fics #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove comfort #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x fem!reader fluff

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thewritetofreespeech · 6 months ago

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Cooler Heads Will Prevail

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

summary: it's too hot to do anything in the States. Except apparently write Aemond x Reader smut about how it's too hot.

tags: heterosexual sex, fingering, sex outdoors, aemond speaking High Valyrian cause it's sexy, Vhagar being sassy in the background.

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“Gods how can you stand to wear that?”

You felt ten times hotter just looking at your husband, dressed in his traditional black & leathers, as he sat next to you while you baked in this heat. Even with all the windows and curtains open, dressed in the thinnest dress that modesty could cling to, and servants fanning you both like Dornish aristocracy, you still felt like you were melting.

“It is all a matter of perspective, my dear wife.” Aemond replied. Not looking up from his book. “And will power.”

You groan and drop your own book, spreading out as far as your limbs would go on the chaise. You despised these hot summers. Everything was hot. Everything you touched, including yourself, was sticky. You felt like every breath was drawing in more hot air, which in turn made you hotter, and considerably cranky. It was too hot to do anything.

Aemond glanced up at you with his good eye, then closed his books. The servants scatter when the prince stood. Taking away what little precious, if fruitless, relief you had. “Are you really that miserable?” He asked, leaning over you with one arm pressed against the back of the chaise.

“Just look at me.”

“I am.” His mouth coiled into a smirk as he leaned further down to kiss you.

But you turn your head away with an unsatisfied huff. “It’s too hot.” Though you loved Aemond unconditionally, apparently it had its limits. He’d have to wait until the sun went down, at the very least, before you would consider touching him.

The prince huffed. “Fine. Get up.”

You didn’t have time to ask Aemond why before he was grabbing your hand and hoisting you to your feet. Dragging you along behind him as you tried to keep up with his impressive gait thanks to those long legs.

Your protests & questions stopped halfway through your journey, and Aemond finally let your hand go once the two of you reached the Dragonpit. Vhagar’s indominable frame taking up most of the space a lotted to her as she coolly acknowledged her rider then settled back down. “What are we doing here?”

“Leaving the city.” Aemond was already mounting Vhagar. Settled into her saddle before he reached out to you with his hand.

You often dreamed of being a dragon rider. To be up in the skies. To command giants. But you didn’t have the blood for it. Instead, you just admired them from afar. “I thought you said Vhagar didn’t like secondary riders.”

“Vhagar does not like any rider but me.” He clarified. “But she will not harm you. Trust me.”

You did trust Aemond. Still, you glance over to Vhagar, looking into her giant eye for permission, who looked back at you for a long moment before she blinked with her inner lid and turned her gaze from you. You took that as a yes and grabbed Aemond’s hand.

He hoisted you up into the saddle with ease. Seating you in front of him. His legs on either side of you as he fastened you both to the harness before taking the reins. “sōvēs Vhagar.”

The dragon rose from her seat. Seeming annoyed about it, but you couldn’t be sure. She took three long strides before her wings were aloft and you were up in the air. You close your eyes tight. Gripping Aemon’s thighs on either side as you felt your stomach try to drop all the way back to the ground. “Open your eyes.” Aemond’s voice brushed against your ear, louder than the rushing air around you. You do as he says. With one at first, then opening both to see the beautiful bright sky around you and white, fluffy clouds. It was breath taking.

You aren’t brave enough to look down, but after a while Aemond shouted, “tegot Vhagar,” and the dragon circled around a patch of Earth before gracefully hurling itself towards it.

When you landed Aemond undid your bindings and jumped down. He held his arms out towards you, waiting for you to jump, and easily caught you when you fell into his open arms. “Where are we Aemond?”

The prince shrugged, “somewhere North.” That was all he said before he stalked off into the woods past the clearing.

You look around and admire the beauty of the small forest, before you follow after your husband. Vhagar seemed fine on her own to resume her nap while you both went on your walk to wherever Aemond was going. “Aemond, what are we doing here?”

“You said you were hot.” He told you. In a tone that implied ‘we just talked about this’ as he cut through the path.

“Yes. But why are we here?” It was significantly cooler, but still summer. The balminess of the city had been replaced with the natural humidity of the trees. One evil for a lesser one.

Aemond didn’t answer this time and instead pushed past the last of the greenery to reveal a second clearing. Sun dappled, with trees and flowers circling a natural freshwater pond, in a perfect idyllic scene. “Gods…It’s beautiful.”

“We did not come all this way just to look at it.”

You turn to Aemond to see him already unbuttoning his jerkin. “You cannot be serious.” Apparently, he was, as he was already tossing his jerkin aside and pulling off his under tunic. “Aemond?? We’re in the middle of nowhere!”

“Exactly. No one will find us.” His belt, boots, and pants quickly made it into the pile. His small clothes next. Then finally his eye patch. “Are you coming or not?” You stare at Aemond, a little slack jawed, as he stood there completely naked. As if you were the crazy one for not joining him.

Fingers carefully come up to your lacings. Fumbling with the strings as your embarrassment makes the digits unable to cooperate properly. Aemond was right, no one would see you. But this was still the first time you had been naked ‘in public’. Ladies did not go around the world in the nude. Although, apparently, a Targaryen’s woman did.

Aemond grinned as he watched you let loose your dress, then walked backwards a few paces before he turned and walked over to one of the rocks. Standing on it, like some Valyrian statue, before he jumped in. You were not nearly as brave, and shyly stepped into the water from its calm shore with your hands protecting your modesty.

The water was like ice on your overheated skin, but it felt so good! You let out a sigh and relax. Sinking neck deep into the water as you pulled your knees to your chest to float. “Feeling better?” You turn to look at Aemond as he swam up to you. His long hair floating behind him like a silver net. Looking more triton than dragon at the moment. You offer him a soft smile and nod.

The prince smiled back. Then he floated to his center before he stood, able to reach the bottom and have the water just barely brush past his navel. “Can I kiss you now?”

You looked up at Aemond, who was looking back down at you, waiting for an answer. Your smile broadens and you release your knees to stand on your own feet as well. The water just barely kissing your breasts in comparison. “Yes Aemond, you can kiss me.”

He looked so pleased. As if all this effort was worth it as he took your chin in his fingers to tilt your lips to his. You moan at the first contact of his tongue against yours. Hells…how long had it been since you kissed him properly.

You had not been joking when you said it was too hot to do anything. That included laying with your husband. Though you shared the same bed, the most you had done for the past weeks was brief kisses & touches before shunting off to your separate corners of the mattress. Desperate not to add anymore heat to your person.

Now that you were cooled off, a renewed heat was swelling up inside you. “Aemond…”

The man in question pulled back just a hair’s breadth to look at you. The hand once tilting up your chin now brushing water droplets from your cheek. “I have missed you, issa jorrāelagon.”

“I know.” And you felt guilty for that. “I’ve missed you too.” Together seperately had been the way things had been with this heat. But now you were somewhere cool, calm, and secluded with your husband.

You latch on to Aemond like a drowning man. His body your life raft. His kiss your air. He pulled you in with equal fervor and you felt his longing press against your belly. Hot and hard, despite the cold water. “Aemond…” You gasp again. Intentionally brushing against him to feel more of his manhood and eager to have not against your belly but inside it. “Please…”

The prince growled and kissed you again. His teeth nipping possessively at your lips this time, before he pulled you into his arms and wrapped your legs around him. Carrying you out of the water with ease and laying you on the soft grass that would be your marriage bed for the afternoon.

Aemond continued to kiss you. Letting you go for a moment before peppering your lips, face, and neck with more kisses. As if he couldn’t decide what he wanted to do next with you. “You should be like this at all times.”

“Underneath you?” You respond cheekily.

“Naked.” He corrected. Your head tipping back as his arm slipped betwixt you and his fingers began toying with your sex. “You wouldn’t be so hot. And we would no longer have to deal with those ridiculous laces.”

“I don’t think your mother would appreciate such a ‘casual’ manner of dress at court.” You gasp sharply as two of Aemond’s fingers suddenly slipped inside you. Clearly a diversion in the conversation as he doesn’t want to talk about his mother right now.

“Hmmm…it is probably for the best. I’d gouge out the eye of any man who would look at you besides me. Then I would no longer be unique.”

“Certainly less fashionable.” Another sharp gasp escapes you as Aemond’s fingers curled up inside you against that spot that made you see stars. Silently telling you that if you didn’t stop with the cheek you were going to get it. ‘Good’ you thought.

His fingers continued to work you open as his mouth swallowed your cries. “Aemond!” You shouted when his thumb brushed against your pearl. Pushing at his shoulders while your legs shook at the intense feeling, but he wouldn’t stop. He let you go long enough to let your climax cry come out clearly. Loud and pure. Birds fluttering off in the distance that were startled by the sound.

“You’re so beautiful when you quake for me.”

“Only you.”

Your hand came up to stroke his face. Hard lines. Soft expression. Your fingertip brushes against just the end of his scar before trailing down to flick his bottom lip. Red and swollen from your kissing. Vibrant against his cool, alabaster skin. Perfect.

“Make me quake for you again my love.” Your legs splayed wide for him. Making space for him and his cock in your drooling cunt.

Aemond doesn’t have to be told anything twice and he descended on you. Lining up his cock, pushing it inside you with coiled control just waiting to snap, waiting there until you were ready. You let him know you were ready by jutting your hips a bit. Your prince looking at your face for a moment to make sure before that coiled control snapped clean.

The two of you rut in the forest like animals. Grunting and moaning and the wet sound of slapping skin. Aemond spread your legs wider for him. Letting him thrust harder and deeper into you. Your head fell back against the damp grass. The sweet smell mixed with your sweat making you dizzy while the sharp climb towards a second climax made you lightheaded.

You will your eyes open to look at Aemond. His eye fixed only on you. Almost completely black like the stories portrayed him. Black enough that it looked as though it had bled into his sapphire. But this was not the eyes of a monster, but a beast. Your beast. Your one and only, as this look as just for you.

“A-Aemond!” You shout again. Fingers clenched in his wet tresses. Whole body shaking around him this time. Aemond’s teeth clenched to the point they look like they might break before he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His own hips stuttered as his warmth filled you up.

The two of you laid there for a moment. Catching your breath. Sated in one another until Aemond likely feels he’s too heavy for you and rolls off you to the side. “We should head back.”

You turn your head to look at him. Wounded. Did it have to be right now? “The sun will be setting soon. It will not be as hot upon our return.”

You look back up at the sky and indeed see the shadows had gotten longer since your arrival. “Must we?”

Aemond chuckled at your plea. Rolling back over to your side to coil his body around you like a serpent. Head on your shoulder. You know he had missed this almost as much as the other. “Not right now.” He agreed. “But soon. We can come back whenever you’d like though.”

“Tomorrow?” He laughed again.

“Whenever you’d like.”

The two of you bask in the moment and beautiful scenery for a little while longer. Enjoying the cool and the quite before you had to return to the hot and the mayhem. You dress in silence. Then Aemond walked you both back down the path towards his dragon. Vhagar not seeming to notice one way or the other that you’ve been gone.

The heat hits you instantly once you break the perimeter of the city. Cooler than before but still sweltering. “I’m going to take a cool bath before bed.” You tell your prince as he gave his dragon a few goodbye pet before he left her for the day. “Care to join me?”

Only one thing could pull Aemond’s attention away from his dragon, and he turned to look over his shoulder at you with a smug grin. “Missing me already, issa jorrāelagon.”

“Oh yes.” You playfully agree as you walk backwards when Aemond came close. “I don’t know. Something about dragon riding puts me in the mood for….‘dragon riding’.”

The true rider grinned and closed the gap between you with quick ease. “Why do you think I seem never to want to keep my hands off you?” He pulled you in for a new kiss. Passionate, yes, but not nearly as fierce as before. You were back in the walls. Back in your cages. You had to be restrained lest other people talked. Because gods forbid a man & a wife actually fancied each other. He let you go and it was your turn to lead Aemond by the hand.

The weather was hot. But summer would eventually break. By the time winter came you intended to know all sorts of new ways to keep warm.

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zara-renata · 13 days ago

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Sylus Qin, Girl Dad | masterlist

I keep seeing discussions of what Sylus would be like as the father to a daughter. So here's my take: a short story about Sylus being a dad to a teenage daughter. You can't tell me he doesn't respect the hell out of her and give her everything she wants. Sylus x fem reader, sylus x mc.

The kitchen is dark, except for the warm glow from the fireplace and the faint light drifting in through the floor to ceiling windows—twin nocturnal cityscapes, Linkon CIty and the heart of the N109 Zone replacing starlight, the blood red moon bleeding into white here at the border between light and dark, law and chaos, your world and his, where you and he have built a home overlooking both of your territories.

He’s sipping a glass of wine, lounging in one of the overstuffed armchairs near the open hearth, the fire crackling pleasantly. He’s scrolling auction listings, plotting what to give you for your upcoming anniversary. Nothing is good enough. Nothing is ever good enough, for you, his beloved. Every year, he fights the same battle—finding the perfect gift that’s worthy of his wife. This year is your twentieth. He swirls the wine, inhales its rich scent. He appreciates the warmth it sends through him with each sip, scowls at the inferior, the common, the unacceptable offerings available in the highest echelons of the antique market.

His thoughts are interrupted by quiet footsteps echoing in the marble hallway beyond the open kitchen door.

“Tiger?” He speaks softly, but his voice sounds loud in the quiet kitchen—the chef and staff are long gone for the evening. The footsteps pause.

“You’re up?”

A voice like rich, slow honey. A mix of Sylus’s own deep tone and his kitten’s sweet, steel-reinforced notes.

“Clearly,” he laughs, low. “Going somewhere?”

Finally, the vision of beauty that never fails to hijack the breath in his lungs appears in the kitchen doorway.

Sometimes he can’t quite believe it—that you forgot him, that he hurt you so terribly, that you let him near again, and in the end accepted him, all over again. That you reached back to him, finally, and offered your hand in return for his. That you said yes, at every turn. Yes, he could kiss you. Yes, he could court you. Yes, he could make love to you. Yes, he could marry you.

Yes, it’s a girl.

Yes, he could help raise the daughter you made, together. With all of his flaws. All of the violence in his hands, in his horns, his tail—you were still willing to let him hold the little mewling infant, the army-crawling roly-poly, the toddling chaos monster.

He could attend soccer games, school plays, choir concerts. He squinted at video tutorials on how to make brownies, cupcakes, for bake sales.

“I can just buy the school and fund anything they need,” he grumbled, trying to fish yet another eggshell out of the gooey batter.

“No, you can’t. That’s not the point of a bake sale, Sylus,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, resting your head on his broad back. “And where is our spawn? She’s supposed to help you with this as part of the educational value of this whole circus.”

He leaned back, soaking in your warmth, savoring the press of your body against his. “She stuffed herself full of cookie dough and passed out. I put her to bed.”

In response, you slipped your hands under the Kiss the Cook, pink frilly apron he wore every time he cooked. A gift from the twins, trying to both pester and help their boss get smooches while in the kitchen.

“And why can’t I buy the damn school? This is utterly inefficient,” he groused, as you slipped your hand under the waistband of his comfortable pants. He groaned. “And if you’re not careful, kitten, I’m never going to finish these in time for tomorrow if you keep doing that.”

“Mmm, there go your claims of being able to multitask.”

“I’ll gladly admit that my powers of multitasking fail when your clever hands are involved, beloved,” he said, trying to turn in your arms.

“Oh well. Another time then.” You had squeezed, once, firmly, just to let him know what he was missing, before sliding your hands from his pants and striding from the room to the sound of his complaints about poor business practices, not delivering what you promise, how is he supposed to focus on the recipe instructions with this situation in his pants, the one you caused?

The years passed, stacked, spread, and you still say yes to him, every day, except when you’re deliberately trying to torment him. He never dreamt he could be so happy, for so long. His happiness only compounds, expands, fills his chest to the point of pain as he sees his daughter standing in the hallway.

She lifts an eyebrow. Meets his snark with her own in answer to his question of if she's going somewhere: “Clearly.”

He tries to suppress his smile, the pride washing through him. “And where are you going at this time of night, tiger?”

“Guess,” she says, and he has the strange feeling of looking in a mirror, and looking at you, all at once. Her eyes, rubies glittering in the firelight. The spill of her hair, just like yours. The snark—from him? From you? Not that it matters, because his daughter is also wholly herself.

He tilts his head, pretends to think. “Out with friends? Or one friend in particular?”

She hums, drifts into the room. Her scent smells like home to him, in a similar way to how yours does, ever since he found you again, all those years ago, while also being threaded through with distinctly different perfume, shower gel, hair product.

“Both,” she answers, and sits on the armrest of the chair he’s sitting in. She leans over, sniffs the wine in his hand. “Can I have a sip?”

“Why would I let you waste my wine, when the last time you tried it you said it tasted like depression juice,” he gripes, moving the wine glass away from her.

She pouts a little, shrugs. “You said it’s an acquired taste. How am I to acquire it if I don’t try it more than once?”

He sighs, indulges her. “One sip.”

She takes the glass by the stem, as he taught her, swirls it. Drinks. Scrunches her nose in an unbearably adorable way. “Nope, still shit.”

“You and your mother. Absolutely no refined palate,” he laments, enjoying how she just laughs at his feigned disappointment, just like you do.

She snorts. “I have a palate for actual yummy drinks.”

“And what do we do after each yummy drink, oh refined one?” he instructs in a way that makes her roll her eyes.

“A big glass of water. To ensure that I spend half the night waiting in line for the bathroom.”

“Maybe if you don’t want to spend half the night in the bathroom, drink less alcohol, tiger.”

“Yes, yes, thank you daddy.” She leans against him, rests her head on his shoulder, looks at his tablet. “Anniversary present?”

He grunts in affirmation.

“You know she’s just happy to spend time with you. You don’t need to outdo yourself, every year.”

“Just because she’s satisfied with the bare minimum, doesn’t mean she doesn’t deserve the universe served on a platter.”

“She says the same about you. You’re both gross,” she laughs.

“Take notes, tiger. Never settle for anyone who doesn’t treat you as well as I treat your mother.”

“Ah, yes, and should I take notes on your pride and arrogance, too, daddy?”

He smirks at his heart leaning against his shoulder. He had no idea his heart was so big, that it could encompass both you, and another whole other person, until his little girl came along. Along with the all-encompassing love, comes the terror. His heart, walking around in two different bodies, out in the world. Yours. His daughter’s. “If it helps. You’re your mother’s daughter—you’re entitled to be as arrogant as you like, treasure.”

“Noted.” Her tone is long-suffering, but pleased. “Can I go now?”

“Is that what you’re wearing?” He flicks a gaze to her short skirt, knee-high boots. The black and red corset cinching her lovely frame.

She sits up, kisses his cheek. “Yes. Problem?”

He sighs. “You know what you’re doing. Where people are looking, when you’re dressed like that.”

She sniffs, looks bored. “Good thing I don’t wear it for anyone else, but for me. They can look all they like.”

He understands dressing to one’s own tastes. To standing out, being the center of attention based on flashy apparel. “You know what to do, if anyone does anything that makes you uncomfortable? Including your particular friend?”

She rolls her eyes again. “Tell them to stop.”

“And if they don’t?” He suppresses the murderous rage at the very idea that someone would disrespect his daughter in such a way.

“Explode their balls with my evol,” she intones, having endured this conversation with her overprotective father more times than she can count.

“And then?” he prompts, pleased.

“Call you, Uncle Aidan, Uncle Luke, and Uncle Kieran,” she sing-songs, getting to her feet. Getting ready to make her escape.

“And if the cops show up before your uncles, or me?”

“I will not answer any questions without my attorney present,” she mocks her father’s deep voice, his bored rhythm of speech.

“And you’ll keep your phone on at all times?”

“Yes, daddy,” she humors him. “And if I do anything that I know will piss you off or scare mama, I’ll still call you to come save me, and you promise you won’t be mad at me.”

“Oh, I’ll be mad, but you’re still just a kid, it would be absurd for us to expect you never to make a mistake.” He suppresses another smile at her scowl. She looks so much like you, sometimes. It hurts his heart, in the best possible way. “Your safety is more important than anything else. We can always discuss consequences later.”

“Okay, okay. I promise to call you even if I know you’re going to be unhappy. Can I go now?”

He looks at her, memorizes her face, the curve of her cheek, admires the intelligence, the humor in her bright, sparkling eyes. It scares the shit out of him, every time she walks out of his sight. He wants to protect her, in the same way he still wants to protect you, from the entire weight of the cruel universe, from all the vagaries of foul humanity. But he read that it’s important for teenagers to feel that their parents trust them, to try out what it feels like to be independent, with a safety net waiting below. He’ll tolerate the terror, for the sake of his precious daughter. With safety measures in place, of course.

“Have fun, treasure.” He releases her, watches as she walks with the defiant confidence of a teenager to the door, secure in her knowledge that she’s already all grown up, that she’s older beyond her years, that her parents just worry too much. His heart feels like it’s going to burst in his chest when she turns, smiles at him.

“Love you, daddy.”

And then she’s gone, not waiting for his answer, because she already knows. One thing he has done right, in all of his lifetimes—one sin he will never commit. His daughter has never, ever had a reason to question how much he adores her.

He sips his wine. Turns his gaze toward the window, sees his own reflection in the glass. His own reflection, with his eyes that are no longer just his own, but the eyes of his daughter looking back at him.

“You vetted her new guy, right?” The voice of Sylus’s beloved interrupts his thoughts. He turns, sees you pointing at your own right eye, ensuring that her husband had ransacked the depths of her daughter’s suitor’s soul before letting her out the door tonight.

He smirks. “I might have paid a visit to his part time job when she first mentioned him."

“And he’s okay?” You stride over to him, slip into his lap. Take the wine glass from his hand, sip. Because you know that everything of his, is yours, and always has been. He wraps his arms around your waist, inhales the scent of your skin, your lovely hair.

“He’s a good kid,” he admits. “Not good enough for her. But good enough for her to toy with, if she likes.”

“And the app on her phone?” You ignore his cynicism, intent on ensuring that all precautions are in place. You worry about your daughter, as much as he does. Your daughter has no idea, however, that you’re the scary one out of her two parents. If someone dares fuck with your baby girl, they’ll have to face her mother’s wrath. Sylus would just kill them—quietly, efficiently. Problem solved.

You would take your time with them.

He loves you so fucking much.

Which is why he instructs his daughter to call him and her uncles, and not you. Sylus is a practical man. There is simply no need to have to break his beloved out of jail for the gruesome murder of some handsy asshole when Sylus can make a corpse disappear with the snap of his fingers.

“Tracking as we speak,” he assures you.

“And the twins?”

“Already on their way to remain at a discrete distance on standby in case she calls.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, finally satisfied. You rest your head where his daughter just rested hers. What use are such wide, strong shoulders, after all, if not for cushioning the precious head of his beloved and his treasured child?

“No, thank you” He’s suddenly overwhelmed with the size of his gratitude. “For doing all the hard work. Making her. Raising her to carry your goodness inside her. For saying yes.”

You just laugh a little at his uncharacteristic speech. Lift your head. “You were very persuasive, in the end. You can thank yourself, for making me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

“And what offer was that, beloved?”

“You,” you sigh. “Everything that you are, and ever will be.”

He sniffs. “You were always a poor negotiator, compared to the swindlers in the N109 Zone. Seems like I got the better end of the deal.”

You roll your eyes, and he sees his daughter in your face. “For someone with such a good eye for fine things, you’ve never been able to see the value in the mirror,” you tease. “But that’s all right. You’re arrogant enough already.” You’ll never understand how Sylus has always managed to be so proud, arrogant, and yet so vulnerable at the same time.

You love him so much, for all of his complexity.

He takes the wine glass from you. Sets it next to the armchair.

“With our treasure out of the house, we’re alone right now,” he whispers into your ear. You shiver. After all these years, his voice still sends excitement along your skin, your spine. “How about I remind you why I’m so arrogant, until she gets home?”

You turn your head, kiss him softly. His lips are still so soft. He tastes like warm wine, like home. “Another offer I can’t refuse.”

He doesn’t need any other answer as he lifts you in his arms, carries you down the long marble halls, lays you down on the big bed you share.

He makes good on his offer. Sylus has always kept his word, from the very beginning, after all.

You daughter makes it home just fine later that night, as you're sleeping soundly. As Sylus reads a book next to you, one hand drifting absentmindedly up and down your bare back, waiting up for her footsteps. He experiences relief, a restored sense of wholeness when he hears them echoing down the hall.

No homicide necessary.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x mc #my fanfic

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antinitoniny · 4 months ago

Text

anton as your affectionate bf: headcanons

this is so long help + it’s organized in sections 😁😁

💭 anton x fem!reader

💭 texts in pink: oc, texts in blue: anton

💭 fluff fluff fluff (and crack)

physical touch

- anton might be the humanized version of ‘physical touch.’

- hand always on ur back or around ur hips

- top of the head kisses

- fixing ur necklace or hair while you’re talking

- as long as you’re in the same room, anton can’t last a minute without physical contact.

- anton’s hand will always be on ur hip or around ur waist.

- he’s backhugging u like 30% of the day

- morning kisses. barely awake kisses.

- tracing anton’s nose while he’s sleeping (he’s actually awake so he’s giggling w his eyes closed)

- “TON I LOVE U BUT IT’S SO HOT. STOP HUGGING ME” “are we breaking up”

- waking up w his leg on you, his face nuzzled on ur neck, and his hand placed light on ur head — it’s a heavy morning.

- “can i bite you?” */stares at anton for 5mins* “is that a yes”

- imagine being against pda while dating a guy who'd tear up if you sit on the other side of the table at dinner? yea, anton.

- fav kissing spot: anton’s nose

- his fav kissing spot: */his nose bled while trying to answer the question

- you guys would last for 5hrs on the couch in silence as long as anton’s wrapped around you

down bad anton

- when he’s talking about his day but you’re rlly focused on what he’s saying so he got flustered all of a sudden “stop staring at me, you’re making me nervous” — “YOU’RE telling a story, where else am i supposed to look at?”

- suddenly smiling from ear to ear during breakfast because “1 year ago, i just thought you’re really nice to me and now i’m eating breakfast with you in our shared apartment” */insert anton giggles (and grumpy you ‘coz u js woke up & he’s talking non sense)

- smiling from ear to ear whenever he hears ur name in his group of friends. (would result to 1hr of anton yapping about how cute you were yesterday and the day before that, and two weeks ago)

- anton buying matching EVERYTHING. and giving them to you with a shy smile.

- matching rings, matching trinkets, matching bracelets, matching phone cases— told u, everything.

- “why are you hugging me all of a sudden?” “you’re the cutest i adore you so much” (you’re just eating bread)

- “hi, can we date with the intention of marrying you & having pets as many as you want”, “anton, we’ve been together for almost two years”, “oh, i thought i was being delusional”

- even on casual days, anton would send his newly made playlists for you.

- "i'm gonna take a nap" "okay, me too" "are you sleepy?" "no" "then why..?" "i wanna take a nap with you"

- anton taking care of you when you're sick. and you always feel bad. "baby, sleep somewhere elsee. you'll catch my fever" "i can't sleep without you next to me"

- "have i told you that i love you?" - anton says while eating dinner.

- anton having five story highlights with just you

- anton using a photo of the two of you as his profile photo in every social media platform.

- has two pouches of things that you MIGHT need in his everyday bag (thats why his bags r always gigantic)

- anton's really expressive. he's expressive but would get shy right after saying that he loves you.

cute stuff

- "they're cute, they're just like us" - anton w every single couple in a romance movie

- anton learning how to cook your favorite foods & baking ur fav pastries at home

- would always be on a facetime w u even in social events (he can’t function w/o seeing u)

- anton massaging u after a long week !!!

- handwritten notes :(

- anton writing post-its and sticking it on ur forehead while you’re sleeping whenever he has to leave early in the morning

- anton writing DETAILED handwritten letters for you every monthsary to tell u his favorite moments w u that month, to tell u that he’s proud of u for every single thing that u’ve done that month. he’s such a words of affirmation guy.

- anton not ordering a lot because he knows that u get full easily so he’ll get to eat ur leftovers anyway

- but anton would always make sure that you’ll eat A LOT. that’s why he’ll research a lot about the restaurant menus that you’ll eat in.

- anton brushing your hair every night

- anton letting you style his hair (once went to work w pigtails)

- reading together (and anton falling asleep on ur shoulder right after one chapter)

- SUNDAY RESET IS ANTON’S FAVORITE DAY !!! the everything shower, doing each other’s nails, cooking together, eating a homemade fancy dinner with candles, talking about your week, and ending the day with wearing couple face masks while watching a 2000s romcom movie.

- anton going with you to ur nail appointment and him sitting next to you for 2 hours.

- anton’s closet is basicslly your closet, and your closet is basically anton’s.

- you wearing anton’s clothes & anton wearing your watches and accessories in a daily basis

- gazing at each other in the midst of the crowd, exchanging warmest smiles

- anton running to you to carry you in a hug

- you mentioning that you like this specific cake ONCE in a casual conversation and anton buying it for you every night.

- “did you hear something?” “BABY STOP SCARING ME”

- when you wanna wear something revealing but you asked anton first so now he doesn’t know if he’ll be mesmerized with you or he’ll be offended that you think he won’t let you wear that

- anton waiting for you to come home til midnight because he wants to have dinner with you (it’s 12am)

- anton carrying your handbag / shoulder bag as if it’s his bag.

soft spots

- arguments w antons barely happen but when it does, it often ends almost immediately.

- anton’s always the one to apologize first. even though you’re at fault, anton makes sure to talk to you without making you feel invalidated.

- anton’s definitely a date to marry guy. which is why during deep talks, he’s always talking about the future with you.

- anton finding you crying. he won’t ask why, he’ll just hug you warmly til you feel better. once you’re feeling better, he’ll buy u guys pints of ice cream and watch your comfort movie in silence and in each other’s arms.

- imagine anton’s soft voice welcoming you home after a tiring day. "how was your day, my love?" anton asks, carrying your bag, gently pulling you to the couch so he can massage your shoulders while you spend 2 hours talking about your day.

- mornings with anton are always so warm. you're cooking your breakfast while anton's just hugging you from the back. his face buried at the side of your neck, while talking casually about your plans for that day.

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dilf-docs · 2 months ago

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hii i just read ur eddie x young reader. And i LOVE ITTTT

Can u please do something similar but with young neighbor reader? Where the reader moves in an apartment beside eddie . They meet each one day and they hit it off? (nsfw )

(Ignore this if u don’t like the idea or u can change it)

Knockin' On Heaven's Door

eddie brock x younger fem!reader

summary: you're what people call a ray of sunshine, probably the most likeable person in the planet. so why is this hot idiot next door so mean to you?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (you know this blog lives by its name), smut, sunshine!reader x grumpy! eddie (cause his ass just got dumped lol), enemies to lovers (one-sided), kinda mean!eddie, porn with little to no plot, power goes out so they get freaky in the dark, use of pet names, p. in v.(use protection guys pls!!! don't be like this dumbasses fucking raw in the dark), oral (m. receiving), creampie, no venom :(

word count: 4,069 words (it's almost midnight again, me thinks I've forever messed up my sleep schedule cause ain't no way inspo only grows as per my eyebags lol)

side note: got my first request on tumblr!! (insert scarlett johanson dancing in marriage story gif). i love looove the neighbours trope so much (hey! if i had a hot older neighbour i would be doing the most to interact with them, bet); hope this lives up to ur expectations even if i tweaked a few things! also, this happens after eddie gets dumped by anne and moves out of the house lol so he's angry, moppy, horny and dry. what if i make this a series tho, would you like that? requests are open!

You're what people call a ray of sunshine. Ever since you managed to talk, all that comes out of you is happiness: the first sound to come out of your mouth was a laugh, your first word was smile, you have Love as your second name, you made friends on real time record, the profession you chose was that of a patissier and the first ink to grace your skin was a little heart tattoo.

Okay, maybe you've made it your whole personality to be likeable. So what? It's not your fault you light up every place you go, that people love you effortlesly and that life seems to smile your way.

It's the way the cookie crumbles, a fitting phrase for a pastry chef like you. Your friends often joked about it: you, a sweet person, baking little sweet goods to make other's lives sweeter.

And you loved it: your life, your job, your family, friends, cat and little apartment in San Francisco.

There was just one thing missing: because no matter how sweet you made other's peoples worlds by existing, no one was there to make it for you.

Alright, you had enough love and just loved love for the sake of it. Sometimes, a tidbit of romance through your screen or through the couple-d lives of your friends sufficed such desire, but its a lie to say you haven't dreamed of your own.

So when Johanna, the girl who lives across you, comes rushing with the newest gossip: "hot new neighbour moving next door!", there's something that tells you it might be time.

"You have to see him" she emphasizes, "a total eye candy"

That ignites the curiosity inside you, and after some weeks hearing through your walls grunts next door and a constant shuffle of things originally packed in boxes, you find yourself knocking on his door, tray of cookies in your hands.

Yes, you did bake them for him. After all, your chocolate chip cookies are a killer! People do lines to get them at your aunt's cafeteria, just to taste the warm soft dough, the chocolate melting on their mouths. You do this for every other new neighbour that comes around, it's just how you are! But the cookie choice is totally intentional though.

The door flinges open, and for the very first time in years, you find yourself at loss for words; speechless.

The stranger before you is a face you'll never forget. Handsome, of course, but there is something alluring in his beauty, one you can't exactly name, but comes along in a pair of thick lips, brown warm eyes and ink sprinkled across strong arms. Your heart hammers in your chest, and it takes all in you to not drop the tray in your chest right here and now.

"Hey!" you find your voice again. Clearing your throat, you proceed. "You're our new neighbour, right? I'm y/n, I live next door. Thought you'd like something sweet to eat after all that effort" you push the tray to the front, "I made this myself!"

He just stares back, blinking. You think he may be confused by your random act, but it's quite normal to do so with newbies. You love welcoming acts!

The awkward stiffness he radiates doesn't deter you away, though. "This are for you" you insist, "or just take one, if you don't want them all..."

"I hate chocolate" he finally says, with such a scowl on his face, you'd think you killed his entire family.

Oh! He hates chocolate? Who hates chocolate?!

You suddenly feel small and stupid. Without much else to say, you don't know how to proceed. You have your way with words, but no one has ever rejected you in the cold open before. It's left you baffled.

Then, a light bulb goes on in your head.

"Wait, I know you!" he quirks an eyebrow. "You're that reporter from TV, Eddie Brock" you gush, "I love helping others, but what you do is amazing... you're, like on other level, giving a voice to those who don't have one"

You admired him; he was someone who was brave and cared.

"Not anymore" and then the door slams in your face.

It takes you a while to process there, standing in the eerie silence of the empty hall, that Eddie Brock may be the very first person in the world who doesn't like you.

In the end, you'd given the batch of cookies to the homeless people living around your building. Even if it made you feel good, the pang in your chest didn't go away. You simply couldn't forget about the incident (because of pride and embarrasment in equal parts), plus, the fact that he lived next door and you couldn't go on about your day without hearing him pace around his apartment, made the task of forgetting about it difficult.

So in the following days you've avoided him, which has been pretty easy so far, since he barely leaves his apartment and you're busy with work and stuff.

It's friday night, and with the next week's groceries in hand, you take the elevator. The door's about to close when it opens again. You can't believe it: after successfuly evading him for five days, Eddie Brock is trapped with you inside the reduced space; you shouldn't been lazy and taken the stairs instead.

"'Night" he mutters, and you swear you've gone deaf because you barely hear so. You don't know what to do, so you just stand there, clutching your tote bag a little too hard. It could be an accident: he's too drunk out of his mind and doesn't know it's you.

It's not like he's been so nice, but after his asshole-ish move last time you saw each other, you don't expect basic courtesy towards you either.

You get a whiff of his scent, mixed with traces of whiskey. It's unfair how intoxicating it feels―how it's got you wanting more of what isn't yours.

God knows it's been long enough since you've wanted a man this bad.

It's not until the elevator dings again that you realize you've been holding your breath the entire time.

"Bye, pretty"

He casually exits out into your same floor never looking back, without realizing the effect his words have on you, hope slowly making its way through the creaks of your open heart.

Okay, maybe it's your fault for raising such high stakes based on two words and a silly little drunk interaction. Maybe you deserve it: because you've become a bit obsessed with the fact that Eddie hates you, but after yesterday, you've already traced a truce in your mind.

Even Johanna has told you to be cool about it. "It's time someone didn't like you" she joked, but you didn't find it funny. She insisted it's not important, but to you it is! How can he not like you? Maybe if he had a valid reason, you'd stop insisting, despite the let down. But he doesn't have one! And you've been nothing but kind! You think too much about it because it doesn't make any damn sense: you're loosing your mind and your friend just laughs.

The only reason you haven't talked to him again, is because work load has catched up to you.

But now you're here, out on the street, and the first person you see is him: on top of his bike, ready to go out.

"Nice!" you chirp. It may not be a top brand, but the black vehicle is as cool as its owner: the leather jacket, worn out jeans and beat up look is an insane combination that may or may not have you drooling.

"Huh?" he looks back at you, and you swear your cheeks reddened in embarrasment at his deadpan expresion.

"Nice bike, I mean" you nervously laugh, fiddling with a loose string of your sweater. "I love seeing them, but I don't think I'll ever ride one. I get scared too easily, you know?"

He puts his helmet on, "Alright"

Not even a thanks or an attempt of a small talk; what an idiot. Didn't he talk to you last time? Called you pretty? Why is he acting so curt right now?

"Hey, what is your pro-"

Your question doesn't get to be finished, because the engine roars and he's out of there, leaving you confused inside a cloud of smoke, the trail leaving with your last sparks of hope.

It's one of those nights where you just want to lay down and let sleep take control of your body. As soon as you get in your comfy pajamas and sink in the mattress, a noise erupts through the air. Startled, you raise on your feet, the slumber long gone.

Fuck. This hasn't been your week, has it?

The noise comes from outside, and you know who it is: the guy who lives in the corner, right next to the window; he who brings too many women home and plays his guitar a little too loud. It's late an he isn't getting the memo, clearly.

You swing your door open, ready to give him a piece of mind (and perhaps dump your accumulated stress from the week), until you realize you aren't the only one outside on the hall. It's Eddie, and he looks just as pissed as you do.

"Can't sleep?" he asks in a mocking tone, all while avoiding your eyes, rather focused on the common enemy's door.

"What do you think?" you reply, equaling his tone.

You both agree in silence, walking to his door. After some knocking, the guy opens his door: less thrilled when he sees Eddie and more complaint when he sees you.

"Sure, sweetheart. I'll keep it down" and winks. The nerve of this guy. Even Eddie is frowning, surely annoyed at his lack of etiquette. "You can knock anytime, noise or not".

The door closes, but it's Brock who did it, not guitar guy. You're too tired to ask, and after picking what's left of your dignity around him, you decide it's best to walk back to your apartment.

"You know what's funny?" you stop your tracks, laughing, but it's devoid of amusement, "I lost my sleep".

He just stares back, and you're tired of the way conversations have to run by your side, for the very first time. You keep on walking, but as soon as your hand touches your doorknob, he speaks up:

"Goodnight" a small truce, you think. But you're not falling this time.

So you do the right think: walk inside without saying a word, and just like him, never looking back.

You wake up agitated in the middle of the night. It's raining: not just a normal rain but a huge storm. You look over at your alarm, noticing its characteristically red numbers are as pitch black as the sky above you. It's also thundering, and God, do you hate noises and thunder.

You jump again at another one cutting through the sky, and decide it's for the best to just stay awake until it's time to wake up. According to your phone, you have about three hours until morning rises. That's enough time to watch a movie or two. Even to pet your cat, which is laying next to your bed, clearly unbothered―unlike his owner.

But there's a problem: when you try to turn the switch, no lights go on. Your incredulous laugh ecos in the room.

Not only a storm, but also a fucking black out.

Scare slowly creeps up, and the shivers you feel are definitely not only because of the temperature drop.

So you grab your phone and head out, without clearly thinking and obviously in panic, because the first thing you do is knock on your neighbour's door.

Eddie's.

"Oh!" it takes a while for him to answer his door, but when he does, his phone's flashlight burns your eyes. "Sorry" he apologizes, and you don't know if it's for that or the fact he didn't answer; maybe for everything too, "didn't hear the knocking with all the thunder".

You say it's fine, that you're just checking to see if you're not the only one without light.

He flicks a nearby switch to no avail, "I'm afraid everyone in the whole building too"

Eddie probably notices your frightened state, the way you shiver like a lost puppy, and feels sorry.

"Wanna come inside?" he offers, hands inside his grey sweater's pockets.

For the very first time since you met him, he looks at you, but really looks at you: eyes roaming over your body, an all too familiar feeling painted across his brown orbs.

You realize a bit late what you're wearing: a teensy short and top, a set of pajamas that happens to be your most comfortable. Favorite too. Appropiate for this emergency meeting? Maybe not.

"You want me to?" you asked, confused. "I thought you hated me"

The only sound across the hall is the droplets of rain outside, some tapping in the window next to you and his apartment.

He looks rather embarrased, "I don't".

"Then you're just an idiot" you counter back, and he doesn't fight you about it.

"Fair" he says, "I can make some coffee?"

Maybe he's pretty convincing or you're a people pleaser, but as soon as he proposes, you're caving in just like that.

"Fine, but you better let me bring my cat"

Truth is, Muffin plays hard to get, but now he's resting in Eddie's lap―purring, as you two sip quietly on your coffee. Traitor.

"I used to have a cat" he says, cutting through the silence.

"Oh!" you leave your mug on his table, next to the candle; the only source of light in the room, "didn't think of you as a cat person".

"Tecnically, it belongs to my fiancée. Sorry, ex-fiancée" he makes a pause, "bet that cat doesn't miss me".

"I didn't know you had a, uh-" you're not sure how to proceed, so you trail off. Muffin jumps from Eddie's lap to the kitchen, lost in the dark.

"Yeah, I had a fiancée, cat, house, and job. Then I lost everything" he dry chuckles, humorlessly, "guess that's why I'm so bitter"

"I'm sorry" you say on the most sincere tone you can muster. Eddie wonders how can you be so kind and forgiving, especially after he's been nothing but an asshole to you.

"Doesn't mean I should've been a douchebag for no reason. You didn't deserve it" he apologizes, embarrased.

You stay in silence for some more time but then he says: "Not an excuse, but it's been real bad days"

The candlelight is so flickering, you don't know if he's seen your eyes, but by the way he gulps, you think he did.

"Maybe... I could offer a helping hand"

Why had you said that? Are you out of your mind? You barely know the guy, who, by the way, had been a jackass to you like, five minutes ago. But he's hot! And you love to help!

Jesus, talk about dignity and boundaries.

"Y-you would?" he stammers, but the way his hand travels to your lap reveals nothing but security.

He's not asking if you've gone insane or what exactly you mean by that: he's just asking if you would do it.

Would you help?

"Don't you know, Eddie?" your voice drops a sultry octave, "I love to help".

You lean close enough for him to smell the cinammon scent of your skin. Soon, he's leaning too, playing along even against his better judgment. It's too soon, but he's so drawn into you and can't resist it no more; ever since he met you.

His cock twitches in his pants, "help me, then"

It happens too fast, one second you're sipping on your coffee, looking like the most warm and softhearted person in the world and now you're on your knees, deep into his carpet, tugging at his belt with your teeth, a hunger he hasn't seen before in your eyes and filthy needy mouth.

Sex with Anne was sweet and normal. Vainilla. You smell like it too, but there's a difference: you have the appetite of a siren.

Using your hands, you remove the leather your teeth had beggin with, moving them to tug his ripped jeans down, pulling the zipper too in the process. You keep using your mouth, now to get rid of his boxers, where the outline is tight over his cock. Eddie finds himself so aroused to the point he feels hot, even if there's a storm outside and the candle barely provides warmth.

"You sure have a mouth" he mumbles in ecstasy, drunk in the sight of your glimmering lips, coated in saliva. He's dripping too: everywhere.

His cock bounces out, almost hitting you in the face.

"Look at you" you coo, "already dripping for me. What a pretty cock you've got, Mr. Brock"

Fuck, he's going to hell after this. But you can't corrupt what's already corrupted.

"Then you better show me what you mean"

You lick the tip, already leaking with precum. He tenses momentarily, and then stiffle a moan when you take his balls into your mouth, a similar sound coming from you. You suck lightly at them, running your tongue along the sensitive skin.

His hips buckle into your face, and you have to chuckle at the fact it's probably the first time he's ever has his dick sucked this good.

"Don't stop" he huffs.

You obey, tongue tracing along the underside of his cock until you're back at his tip. Eddie's still inside his drunk haze when he feels you taking all of him inside your mouth in one single movement.

"Fuck-!" he chokes out, the thunder outside shutting the vulgar sounds coming out of his plush lips. "Think you can take more?"

His large hand touches the back of your head and pushes it forward with force. His cock presses deeper into your throat, tip hitting the back of it. You feel yourself gag, but the wet spot that's starting to form in your panties says otherwise.

He twists your hair tightly, holding you in place as he fucks your throat with his cock. You feel tears, and Eddie thinks he's never had a prettier sight than you: glossy eyes, looking up to him as you take all his cock.

"I know you can, baby" he presses, "help me like you said you would, yeah?"

His fat cock is blocking your air supply, but the subtle motivation and praise in his eyes is enough to keep you going, thought your throat ends up bulging from the size of his cock, stretching out to accommodate his size.

You said you would help, right? And even if you always do it for the altruist reward, something about being used in such a vulgar and rough way has your chest and panties feeling warm.

Brock groans, body sweating and muscles tense. He yanks you up by your hair, chasing the orgasm like an animal, every movement feeling almost primal.

"Stay there" he feels it coming, "don't move".

You gurgle something, spit rushing down your chin and dripping onto your chest.

"It's almost over, sweetheart" his eyes roll back, head resting on the coach he'd barely used until now, where he's fucking you in the mouth, "I knew that filthy mouth of yours could take me"

You open your mouth wider, anticipating. Tension releases: and he's pounding out his orgasm in your throat, hips banging into your face. You swallow it all, even if you can't taste it since he was so deep in you. He pulls out, a string of spit connecting his tip with your lips.

"Thanks" his voice comes out rough, "you do know how to help those in need"

You wipe your chin with your hand, voice hoarse, "I suppose"

There's some silence afterwards, and now Eddie is cursing he doesn't know what else to say.

"Power is still out" he speaks, "we've got some hours left until the sun rises again"

"So what's your idea?" you giggle, "tell scary stories in the dark?"

You both laugh, but you stop and deadpan. "Please don't, I get scared very easily" and you pout those pretty lips of yours out. How can you be such an adorable but greedy girl? It's hard to believe you're the same person.

"Not that" he swallows thickly. Why is he doing this? Was a blowjob (a fantastic blowjob, by the way) by a young insatiable thing like you enough to make him go mad? "I want to help you too".

Before you protest, he's pulling you and sealing your lips with a hot kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth, playing with it. He pulls out, biting your lower lip.

"Eddie" you whine, "b-bed, now"

He's supposed to be older and smarter, so why is his resolve melting away this quickly? Following your orders immediately, your back bouncing on the soft mattress of his bed. As soon as you lay, his lips trail kisses down your throat.

"God, you smell so good" you giggle, "bet this pussy will taste as sweet, huh?"

His cold fingertips grace the fabric of your tiny shorts and the touch gives you goosebumps, "look at you" he tugs your panties, nudging at your cunt. "So soaked... is this for me, baby?"

"Yes, Eddie" the way you say his name is enough to make even the strongest man fold, his dick jolting in response. "Take it"

Both of you remove your clothes in such a hurry, you hope you haven't damaged your favorite pair of pajamas.

"Let me see her" he demands, so you spread your legs, revealing your dripping pussy.

When you kiss again, the underlying carnal desire is mutual, saliva connecting in a silver thread as you both gasp for aire. Your hands wander across his chest, fingers playing with his tensing muscles.

"I promise to reward her, okay?" he lines his cock up with your entrance, the fat tip nudging against you, sticky with precum.

You're desperate with anticipation, practically begging, "please do".

He pushes inside you fully, balls slaping against your sticky clit hard. He’s so deep, pushing against your cervix and stretching you out with each thrust, making even the task of breathing painful and laborious.

Brock feels like he's ruined you, yet you look rather content. You've been used to giving; your kindness of a caretaker nature. You're used to giving your all and not receiving, so with every new thrust against you, his hips slamming, you know you'll never feel this pleasure again with anyone else, the delicious sense hitting you in waves that make you feel dizzy. So, in a way, he has ruined you.

"That desperate for me to fill you?" there's no answer, but the sound of rain and skin clapping against skin.

"Yes, give it to me” you sob, "Eddie, please!"

"Focus on taking it" he guides you. It may make him a pervert, but he isn't changing the sheets any time soon; they'll be covered in you and he'll smell them everytime he gets inside them. "I'm gonna cum"

You moan, lightly tugging at the strands of damp hazel hair. He chokes out a husky groan, heat pooling on his stomach.

Eddie's dick twitches inside you, cum filling your eager insides with the biggest load you’ve ever felt. Your pussy clenches, spasming, wrapping tighter around his length in a needy way, your high coming almost at the same time.

Both your breathes come out in ragged pants. He nuzzles against your neck, skins equally damped.

"Fuck"

As soon as those words leave his mouth, the power returns. You should go now, as this is the reason you stayed, but none of you make the move to leave.

"Stay?" he pleads, "It's still raining outside"

How can you say no to those brown puppy eyes? Does he think he can fuck you this good and then make you leave?

"Alright" you swear he smiles, and it's the prettiest smile you've seen in your life. Could you fall this easily in love? "But turn off the lights: I have work tomorrow and need some sleep"

"Whatever you say, baby" he nips at your lower lip, "you know I love to help"

#dilfistwrites #eddie brock #eddie brock x reader #eddie brock x you #eddie brock fanart #eddie brock imagine #eddie brock smut #eddie brock fanfic #venom #venom movie #venom symbiote #venom smut #venom spoilers #venom 3 #venom the last dance #marvel #marvel smut

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jinniejjam · 18 days ago

Text

Lonely Wine

✎ Mean Neighbor!Lee Know x Lonely Afab!Reader

✎ Christmas AU, Emotional, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, 18+ MDNI! NSFW, Mutual Pining, Smut, Mistletoe Trope, Romantic Ending.

✎ 3.4k

✎ Synopsis: you find yourself feeling alone and distant, lost in your own thoughts. Your annoying neighbor, Lee Minho, crosses your path, and the exchange between you is far from pleasant. But then, to your surprise, he apologizes. As the holiday season continues, the walls between you begin to crumble, and you start to realize that even the most unexpected neighbors can bring warmth and connection when you least expect it.

A/n : hii y'all! I bring the christmas fanfic for today, hope you enjoy the story and also Merry Christmas! I hope warmth found u^^

—Bae

The air was cold, sharp against your skin as you leaned on the edge of your window, a half-empty glass of wine in your hand. Christmas Eve had always been a hollow affair for you, a reminder of what you didn’t have.

Your family wasn’t just complicated—it was fractured, splintered beyond repair. Your parents had divorced years ago, both quickly moving on to build new families, leaving you somewhere in the middle. No one outright abandoned you, but no one fought for you either. Holidays became a game of polite invitations and shallow smiles, and eventually, you stopped trying to belong anywhere.

You finished the wine faster than you intended, the warmth in your chest doing little to ease the ache. The sound of distant laughter and carols drifted in through the window, each note a cruel reminder of what this night was supposed to be.

When you realized your stock of wine was gone, you sighed and grabbed your coat. A trip to the store would be better than sitting alone with your thoughts.

The grocery store was mostly empty, its fluorescent lights buzzing softly. You wandered the aisles, the sight of festive decorations and holiday discounts doing nothing to lift your spirits. Three bottles of wine went into your basket—too much for one night, maybe, but you didn’t care.

By the time you returned to your building, your arms were aching from the weight of the bottles. You stepped into the elevator, letting out a breath as the doors closed.

But they didn’t close fast enough.

“Hold it!” a familiar voice called, and your stomach dropped as Lee Minho slid in just before the doors shut.

Of course. Out of all the people in this building, it had to be him.

Lee Minho, your annoying salty neighbor who had been a thorn of your peacefull life in this building, you're not sure how and when it started, but every encounter with him always feels like a war somehow, well its maybe begin from the very first you moved in to this building.

Flashback

The new apartment smelled like fresh paint and floor polish. You sat on your worn couch, staring at the boxes still stacked in chaotic clusters, a sigh escaping your lips. Starting over wasn’t easy. The stress of work and the pressures of life had already begun weighing down on you, but you were determined to make this new chapter as bright as possible.

After a long debate, you decided to bake cookies for your neighbors as a peace offering—a way to establish yourself in the building. A sense of community might help ease the loneliness. Armed with a plate of warm cookies, you stepped out of your door, knocking at the unit beside yours.

It swung open sharply.

The man who stood before you was breathtakingly gorgeous, but his expression was nothing short of murderous. His dark, sharp eyes narrowed in annoyance, his jawline so sharp you could swear it could cut glass.

“Yes?” His voice was flat, unwelcoming.

“Oh, hi! I just moved in next door. I made cookies and thought I’d introduce myself!” you said, holding the plate out with a smile.

He stared at the cookies like they were contaminated.

“Thanks, but no thanks.” His tone was curt. Without another word, he shut the door.

You blinked, stunned. What the hell was that?

Or that one time when he complained, saying that you're being loud just 3 days right after you moved in.

The next few days after moving in filled with unpacking, arranging furniture, and trying to settle into your new place. It was exhausting, and by the weekend, you decided to reward yourself with a relaxing night—some wine, your favorite playlist, and a bubble bath.

The music was soft, barely above a whisper, but as you swayed along while unpacking some remaining boxes, a sudden knock startled you. It wasn’t just a polite tap; it was loud, deliberate, and aggressive.

You frowned as you opened the door, only to find yourself face-to-face with your grumpy neighbor. Lee Minho stood there, arms crossed, his dark eyes glaring down at you like you were the source of all his problems.

“Seriously?” he snapped.

“What?” you asked, taken aback.

“The music,” he said. “Some of us are trying to sleep, and your constant noise is making it impossible.”

You raised an eyebrow. “It’s barely 9 PM.”

“And? Some people have early mornings,” he replied. “Unlike you, apparently.”

You folded your arms. “Excuse me, but I’m not exactly throwing a party over here. The music is quiet enough that I can barely hear it myself. Maybe the problem isn’t me; maybe it’s you.”

His jaw tightened. “Oh, so now I’m the problem?”

“Kind of, yeah,” you shot back. “Maybe you should consider moving to a remote cabin in the woods if you hate hearing other people so much.”

The tension between you crackled like static. He exhaled sharply, clearly deciding you weren’t worth more of his time.

“Whatever,” he muttered. “Just keep it down.”

With that, he turned on his heel and stalked back to his apartment, leaving you fuming in the doorway.

You think that was the moment the gloves came off. From then on, the two of you clashed at every opportunity—snarky comments in the elevator, icy glares in the hallway, and a mounting frustration that turned into outright hostility.

Back to present time, he leaned casually against the cold wall of the elevator, his sharp eyes scanning the bottles in your arms. His smirk was almost immediate.

“Three bottles?” he quipped, tilting his head. “For one person? What is this, a pity party?”

You didn’t respond, staring straight ahead and hoping he’d shut up.

But Minho wasn’t done. “What? Are you that lonely? Not even a family to spend Christmas with?”

His words hit like a gut punch, sharp and uncalled for. Your fingers tightened around the bag handles as you turned to glare at him.

“Yeah, keep talking, Lee. I’m sure your perfect little life makes all of this just so much better,” you shot back, your voice trembling but laced with bitterness.

Minho blinked, taken aback. He had expected you to snap back, to fight him with the same sarcastic edge you always did. Instead, he saw the hurt in your eyes, the raw emotion you’d been trying so hard to hide. His stomach twisted in regret, realizing too late that he had pushed the wrong button this time. The smug expression he wore faltered, guilt creeping in as he watched you turn away right after the elevator door opened.

Once inside your apartment, the weight of his words finally crashed down on you. You set the bottles on the counter, your hands trembling.

Not even a family.

It wasn’t just an insult—it was the truth. Your parents had their own lives, their own families, and you were nothing more than a reminder of their failed marriage. Christmas had become a painful routine: fake smiles, awkward dinners, and feeling like an outsider in both of their homes. This year, you hadn’t even bothered to show up.

Tears welled in your eyes as you uncorked one of the bottles. The first sip burned your throat, but you didn’t stop. With each gulp, you tried to drown the ache, to silence the doubts and regrets swirling in your mind.

But the wine didn’t help. Instead, it magnified everything.

The tears spilled over, hot and relentless, as the weight of the night pressed harder on you. You sank onto the couch, clutching the bottle like it was your lifeline. The sound of distant carols and laughter seeped in through the thin walls, each note a cruel reminder of what you didn’t have.

A knock at the door made you freeze.

“Who’s there?” you called, your voice hoarse.

“It’s me.”

Minho.

Your chest tightened. The last person you wanted to see right now was him.

“Go away!” you shouted, wiping at your tear-streaked face.

But he didn’t leave.

“I need to apologize,” he said, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

You clenched your jaw, anger and humiliation swirling inside you. “I don’t need your pity, Minho. Just leave me alone.”

But his voice came again, insistent. “Please. I shouldn’t have said that. It was out of line.”

Something about the raw sincerity in his tone gave you pause. Slowly, you stood and walked to the door, hesitating before unlocking it.

When you opened it, Minho was leaning against the frame, his usual smirk replaced by something almost apologetic. His eyes flickered to your puffy, tear-streaked face, and his jaw tightened.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You crossed your arms, trying to keep your voice steady. “Why do you care?”

Minho hesitated, his gaze softening. “Because I know what it’s like to be alone on Christmas.”

The admission caught you off guard, and for a moment, you just stared at him.

“I’m serious,” he added, his voice quieter now. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. I was being an ass, and—"

The sincerity in his voice made your chest ache. Before you knew it, you were crying again, the weight of the evening too much to hold back.

Minho stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate. “—Hey,” he murmured. “It’s okay.”

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned into him. He hesitated for only a moment before wrapping his arms around you, holding you tightly. The warmth of his embrace broke something inside you, and you clung to him as if he were the only thing keeping you afloat.

Minho held you close, his arms steady and sure, like he was the only anchor keeping you from falling apart. The quiet between you was heavy but not uncomfortable; his presence alone was enough to steady your trembling breaths. His hand moved gently up and down your back, offering a kind of comfort you hadn’t realized you craved.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered into his chest, your voice muffled.

“For what?” His voice was soft, almost a whisper.

“For being a mess.”

He pulled back slightly, just enough to tilt your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. His eyes softened as they searched yours, and for the first time, you saw something other than irritation or smugness—something tender.

“You’re not a mess,” he murmured. “You’re human.”

The sincerity in his voice made your throat tighten, and before you could think twice, you leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his shoulder, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne.

“Come on,” he said gently, his hands steadying you as he guided you toward the couch. “Sit down. Let me help.”

He left briefly, and you heard the soft clink of glasses. When he returned, he handed you a glass of water and a blanket, sitting beside you with a closeness that felt intentional.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you said, your voice still fragile.

“I wanted to.” His reply was simple, but his tone carried weight.

The room was quiet as you sipped the water, his eyes never leaving you. The soft glow of the Christmas lights from your small tree cast warm shadows across his face, making him look softer, more vulnerable.

“You’re different tonight,” you said softly, daring to glance at him.

His lips twitched, the ghost of a smile playing at the corners. “So are you.”

The silence stretched again, but this time it was charged, buzzing with something unspoken.

“Minho,” you began, your voice hesitant, but he interrupted you by reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering for just a moment too long, making heat creeping to your cheeks, redish hue appear within a second.

“You deserve better than this,” he said quietly.

You blinked at him, startled. “What do you mean?”

“This.” He gestured vaguely at your apartment, the wine bottles on the counter, the loneliness hanging in the air. “Being alone on Christmas. Feeling like you don’t have anyone. You deserve someone who cares.”

The vulnerability in his voice stunned you.

“Do you?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Care, I mean?”

His eyes darkened slightly as they locked onto yours. “More than I should.”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The space between you seemed to shrink as the tension thickened. He reached out, his hand cupping your cheek with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice low, his gaze flickering to your lips.

But you didn’t want him to stop.

Instead of answering, you leaned forward, closing the gap between you. Your lips met his in a kiss that was hesitant at first, testing the waters, but quickly deepened as you both gave in to the pull that had been simmering between you for weeks.

Minho’s hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer as you shifted onto his lap. His lips were soft but insistent, exploring yours with a passion that sent a shiver down your spine. Your fingers tangled in his hair, eliciting a low sound from him that made your stomach flip.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his breath warm against your lips as he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours.

You nodded, your heart pounding. “Yes.”

He kissed you again, this time slower, more deliberate, as if he wanted to savor every second. He stood, carrying you effortlessly toward your bedroom, his movements careful and intentional.

Once inside, he laid you gently on the bed, his hands brushing over your skin like he was memorizing every inch of you. The way he looked at you—like you were something precious—made your chest tighten.

His touch was both tender and consuming, each kiss and caress unraveling the stress and pain that had been weighing you down for so long. The intimacy of it all made your heart ache in the best way.

It wasn’t just about the physical connection—it was about the way he held you, the way he whispered your name like it was sacred, the way he made you feel seen, cherished.

His lips moved to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. You shivered, your body responding to his touch even before you could think. Minho’s hands caressed the curves of your body, each movement slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every inch of you. His touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting something inside of you that had been dormant for far too long.

"Minho..." You whispered his name, your voice trembling as your fingers slid to the waistband of his pants, grabing his clothed cock making him groan from the contact.

"Fuck, Princess."

He kissed you again, his lips claiming yours with a hunger that made your pulse spike. You felt his body pressing against yours, his muscles flexing as he leaned into you. His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, his hands sliding down your sides, pulling you closer to him until you could feel the heat of his body, hands trailing to tug on your sweater, getting rid of it in a swift motion, leaving you in your black lacy bra.

When he pulled away for just a second, his dark eyes searched yours, his chest rising and falling with each breath. "You're so beautiful” he said, his voice low and raspy, full of an almost dangerous edge.

He squeze your tits from outside of your bra, your body aching for him in a way you couldn’t deny. "Minh, please.”

With a growl, he kissed you again, his hands rough as they worked quickly to remove the last remnants of your clothes. You felt the heat of his skin against yours, his fingertips trailing down the curve of your spine before they slid to your hips, pulling you closer as his mouth moved over your collarbone, his kisses becoming more desperate.

Every kiss he gave, every movement of his hands, felt like it was igniting something inside of you, a need that you hadn’t realized had been building up for so long. You moaned softly, your hands running over his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath your fingertips.

He responded with a groan of his own, his mouth returning to yours in a fierce, possessive kiss. The air between you grew thick with desire, the tension so palpable you could hardly breathe. His hands moved to your back, gently pushing you back onto the bed, his body following you, never breaking the connection.

As he hovered over you, his lips brushing against your ear, he whispered, “I want you, all of you.”

You felt the heat rush to your cheeks as his words sank in, the meaning behind them making your heart race even faster. “Then take me,” you responded, your voice low and demanding, feeling a surge of confidence you hadn’t known you had.

Without another word, Minho moved over you, his hands and lips tracing the line of your body with a sense of urgency, like he couldn’t wait any longer. He drag his waist band You felt the pressure of his body against yours, he run his heavy cock along your folds, squelching sound coming from the contact signing how wet you are already, "Holly fuck baby, do you hear that? Mmh all wet for me" he said, still teasing your drench cunt. The heat between you both becoming almost unbearable.

Minho finally align his tip to your enterance, pushing it in to your clenching hole, earning a trail of moan from both of you.

"Ahh minhh," Your fingers dug into his back, urging him on as you kissed him with the same urgency, your body moving against his in rhythm.

His movements grew faster, more desperate, as he sought to claim you in the way that only he could. You could feel every inch of him as he slid deeper, the sensation of him filling you making you gasp with pleasure. Your hands moved to his shoulders, gripping him tightly as your body trembled beneath him.

"Minho mmh," his name slipped from your lips in a soft, breathless cry, and the sound of it seemed to drive him wild. He growled low in his throat, his hips snapping against yours with a relentless intensity. You met him with every thrust, your body responding to him in ways you couldn’t control, the pleasure building, escalating with each movement.

"Minho... fuckh you're gonna make me cumhh," you gasped, the heat of your bodies colliding with an intensity that took your breath away.

He groaned, his name slipping from your lips in a way that made his pulse quicken. The sound of your voice, the way you were calling out for him, drove him to the edge. He leaned down, kissing you deeply, his tongue claiming yours in a dance that matched the rhythm of your bodies.

"Cum for me kitten, cum" he said, hips pistoning to hit the certain spot that makes you see the stars.

As the pleasure built to an unbearable peak, you felt the tension inside of you snap, "Minhh ahh FUCK," your body convulsing in waves of ecstasy.

"Fuck, fuck fuck shit baby s'goodh mmhh" Minho followed you over the edge, his body trembling as he gave in to the moment, his own release consuming him.

You both lay there, breathless and tangled in each other's arms, your bodies still pressed together, the warmth of his skin against yours grounding you in the reality of the moment. His chest rose and fell with each breath, and you could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips.

Minho’s hand moved to your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he leaned down to kiss you gently, the softness of the kiss in stark contrast to the fiery intensity of what had just happened.

“I care about you,” he murmured, his lips brushing over yours once more. “More than you know.”

You looked up at him, the vulnerability in your chest now replaced with something deeper, something stronger. You smiled softly, your hands running over his back, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

"I care about you too," you whispered, your voice full of quiet certainty.

And as the two of you lay together, tangled in the aftermath, you realized that this wasn’t just a night of passion. It was a turning point—one that would change everything between you. It was the beginning of something real, something lasting, and for the first time in a long time, you felt at home.

Make a brief synopsis for this story

#lee know smut #lee know #lee know fluff #lee know x reader #lee know x you #stray kids #stray kids imagines #lee know imagines #lee minho #lee minho smut #skz smut #skz imagines #skz x reader

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deadghosy · 11 months ago

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I was wondering if you could do a miniso penguin reader being a delivery boy for all of hell (mostly hazbin)

I JUST LOOKED IT UP AND OMGGGG ITS SO CUTEEE🦆💗🦆 AND YES I WILL! THANK YOU MY GHOST

HAZBIN HOTEL X PENGUIN! READER

prompt: you deliver mail all over hell, but mostly to your favorite place!

Okay starters off….you definitely get petted by the sinners who walk by you. Like you are so adorable!

I headcannon that you have a magic barrier that activates when you are in danger. Like say for example, a sinner tried to stab and mug but a bubble appears around you as you quack and roll away.

But like…you are the most known person in hell. YOU COULD BE WALKING AND GIVING MAIL AND IMMEDIATELY- “Hey [reader]!”

Yeah you’re quite known🦆🔥

The overlords love you! Carmilla adores you as you help her move her things around with her supplies of angelic metal. And Alastor….he joked about eating you up because of how cute you are..you definitely hide behind carmilla as she glared at him.

Alastor said sorry as he buys you ice cream for scaring you. (Charlie made him do it after carmilla snitched on him)

The most place you love giving mail to is the hazbin hotel! You like it there as you always get greeted by the people there gently. Charlie would pet you as she gushes how cute you are and how you should’ve been an angel.

Husk just pokes at your chubby and cute body as you quack and rub your face in his leg. You are the size of a penguin so guess how small you are 😭💗

You and fat nuggets are best friends, dead ass you both speak animal to each other and just gossip… “quack…” “oink oink..” “QUACK?!” You yelled pointing to Alastor as fat nuggets nodded seriously. Angel tried to record it but he just couldn’t help but laugh

Lucifer loves you! Like at first he would just watch you around hell secretly as he didn’t want to scare you off too easy. But soon he felt over protective at how pure and nice you are to other sinners and hell born

I headcannon every time it’s extermination, you would be forced to be at the hotel as you bake cookies to past the time helping Charlie and the other feel less stress as the angels kill the sinners.

“So like…do you lay eggs or somethin'?” Angel asked looking at the egg boiz under you as they are sound asleep. You just stay there like a mama penguin as you shrugged.

“[READER] I CHOSE YOU!” Vaggie yells as you waddle to a person and hug them in need. Its funny to imagine you being used a Pokémon who’s only attack is “HUG SURPRISE!”

I headcannon you to use a rolling attack. LIKE FOR EXAMPLE, you are getting chased so you roll like a ball and BOWLING BALL THEY ASS! STRIKEEE‼️‼️

You have a room in the hotel, it’s just you don’t stay there often. But the other would loved if you stayed at the hotel with them as they find you lovely to around. Like imagine how cool it is to be tired from delivering mail all day just to go to the hotel and see your own room.

Immediately passing out in the soft bed😭🦆

I imagine you walking, more like waddling and the egg boiz just copy your waddling as they are still baby chickens in eggs.

Velvette definitely has you go to her section of the vee tower so you can wear those cute sailor boy outfits 😭 like imagine how cute that is….

Sir Pentious and nifty love you also as they find you adorable. The egg boiz love you, and nifty….she just finds you interesting how every sinner knows who you are and wants to be your best friend.

I can see you being sick and not coming to deliver mail to the hotel, and immediately you wake up sniffling as you waddle to your door to see a bunch of gift baskets as you quack surprised at all those candies and get better cards….man you are loved

#penguin #penguin! reader #penguin! reader x hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x gn reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader

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reshinless · 4 months ago

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Hii! I wanna request for a nsfw single dad! Wriothesley or Moze x kindergarten teacher! reader that takes care of their kids for them while they're at work 🤔

Thank you!! 🩷

──── age ain't nun but a number

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ synopsis. when he feels something for the single kindergarten teacher that their kid accidently calls them mom/dad. can't help the pretty thought of getting to call you his either

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ pairings. wriothesley x gn!afab!reader (i use the term pussy :3) !!nsfw content ahead!!

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ director's notice. i've yet to read about headcannons on moze! for now please settle with wriothesley only :pray:

wriosthesley recently started to send his lovely daughter off to school, specifically kindergarten (homeschooled her for nursery). waving her off as she looks off to the classroom- before turning around to face him with small tears prickling her redish-pink eyes.

"baby, what's wrong?" he calms her down shortly after, but still with a sigewinne who was still visibly saddened at the thought of leaving her dad.

all of a sudden, a gorgeous figure comes out of the classroom, and kneels beside wriothesley in a way to calm sigewinne down as well.

"hi sweetheart, what's your name?" you took the small blue haired girl's palms into yours, they were a little cold. "i-'im sige-sigewinne!" almost as if completely cheering up after seeing how beautiful you were, her father completely stunned as well.

"i'm (name), how about you come in and meet the other kids inside, would you like that?" the small girl quickly nodded at your words, watching as you stood back up and offered your hand out to her, sigewinne who takes it just as fast, holding onto one of your fingers.

as you let the bunny-like girl into the classroom, you walk back up to flushed face of her father. "t- thank you for that. i- i- um.. i'm wriothesley." he offers out a hand as you chuckle lightly. "i'm (name), does she get anxious without you or was that because this is her first time away from you?"

"ah.. the second. you .. the teacher of the classroom?" "mmmm, yes i am." oh your voice was just as lovely as your face. his eyes scanned over your features while you discussed details on sigewinne's schedule. subtly checking you out before his eyes trail back up to see you aren't talking anymore. oh.

"oh.. ahem-" he coughs awkwardly to excuse his actions as your own face flushes a little. "i'll send you the rest via... hmm, where can i contact you?" perfect- a way to get your number!

"ah just.. here." he hands his phone to you, as you added it to your contact list. "i'll send it to you there then." you bowed and left to tend to your class of 20 kindergarten students. fuck you were beautiful.

cut to a few months into school days, sigewinne is doing great all but in one subject. which results wriothesley having to ask you for a bit of tutoring just for sigewinne, openly inviting you into their house.

you agree, not minding helping another kid. as you drove over to his house; you felt a little bit of fuzz in your heart, seeing a moderately-sized house, with fence which looks like its supposed to be white; was colored to be coincidentally the colors of sigewinne's hair. random strokes and lines scattered all over each standing wooden plank, you couldn't help but laugh a little.

as you got out, you observed out the sidewalk near his home had hopskotch sketches on the floor as well, how adorable. as wriothesley opened the door to welcome you inside, the house seemed pretty spacy.

"i know its not much, but this house was closest to the school." he chuckled as he led you over to where sigewinne was waiting. "tell me if you need anything."

wow he sounds even better upclose. his smile is pretty too, the apron he wore as he baked sigewinne-shaped cookies was pretty cute as well.

but as much as it all seemed very adorable, and fluffy. wriothesley couldn't lie what he'd been feeling the last few months in knowing you, and knowing how much sigewinne looks up to you, even overhearing the way she accidently calls you mom/dad, meaning that even if he proposed right here and now; his daughter would gladly accept. his last partners she never approved of- but with you, it's almost like she was actively trying to get you together.

before he walks into the room to ask if you and sigewinne are hungry; he hears her ask a little question. "miss/mister (name)! do you like my daddy?" sigewinne tugs at the hem of your sleeve. "ah- w- what do you mean?" "you like daddy, right? because you always smile when you go to escort me back to him, i don't see you do that to like.. aika's dad! or amira's mom! so you like daddy!"

unbeknownst to you; the strong, and big reputation fighter wriothesley blushed behind the closed door, hearing every little aspect of the conversation. putting the desserts back before putting his ear against the door again. "your daddy is nice, but i can't have relationships with my student's parents. it's unprofessional." "so you would date daddy if you didn't work here? oh but i'm gonna miss you in class if you leave!"

you found it adorable how she thought you'd leave your job for wriothesley, but you definitely couldn't afford doing so; not at the expense of your own living space being taken from you again.

"i just.. i guess you're a little right, 'winne. but i can't do that right now." "daddy makes enough money! this is only one of his houses!" "alright alright that's enough, let's get back to studying."

something so innocent, yet so captivating about the way you talked about him, you simply agreed about smiling the more you saw him. he felt mutual about it. ah- damn he shouldn't think the way he does about you, catching himself palming his urgent erection through the fabric of his boxers at night to the thought of your entrance sinking onto his length so politely- he's getting ahead of himself now.

but fuck it'd definitely be hot, to feel you on him, or watch how he'd be the one to arch your back as you creamed onto his cock. oh fuck, guess the pastries will wait. off to the bathroom he goes.

oh but the thought of you just bending over for him, telling him it's all his, he definitely could bust right here and now. stroking his girth, imagining how it'd be so slippery, so vulnerable just taking it like anyone would.

shit he already felt it coming- his dick definitely felt a lot more sensitive than last time he thought of jerking off to you; and damn did it feel good as hell. damn, was that already his cum on his own stomach.. he came at the thought of you again. third time this week. huh.

he came out, pulling his pants a bit, looking a little disshelved, more than earlier at least as you saw him walk by. "hey, i put her to sleep for now." you wave to him as you round the corner from her room. "mmm? that's good." he took a seat beside you, "oh uh, and i have a little favor to ask, you mind i stay for now? the rain doesn't seem like it'll let up anytime soon."

"yeah, sure, make yourself at home, baby." he hadn't realized the slip of tongue of calling you the nickname, barely noticing the clear flustered state he had put you in. "huh, what's with the face?"

you looked away, admitting it was nothing, 'till he ringed a strong arm around your shoulders, using his finger to make you look into his eyes, turning your head back to his. "then you'd tell me, yeah?"

you couldn't avoid how attractive it was, it was a swift reaction. you could feel something pooling/hardening down in your lower region, "it's really.. u- um nothing. i just.. i.." you held eye contact with him for a bit before you felt a hand grasp your hair from behind your head, pushing your lips into his.

you reciprocated the kiss for a bit, as you pulled away, eyes opened in shocked, as wriothesley looked like it was a normal thing between you two. "has anyone told you how pretty you are?

"..." "does it make you nervous when i stare? sorry, it's a habit when you're that gorgeous." "this.. is.. this is unprofessional! i- i'm sorry i-" you try to explain before he pulls you closer with his arm, "sigewinne sees you as a parent figure, it's fine."

"c'mere, pretty, she won't know we did this, and no one else will, not unprofessional if no one else will know. i know you want me too." he stroked your cheek, a smirk appeared on his face, while he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "come on, break the rules just once, i'll show you a good time."

...

he had you pinned onto his mattress upstairs, clothes stripped and onto the floor, now he could finally observe all and every inch he's been longing to see of you. trailing his palms all over your body, exploring it as much as he could. "just.. tell me to stop if i need to, 'kay?"

he already pried your legs open with just his words, one of his snake up to the other, holding it with a gentle, and soft touch, making sure you knew he cared about the way you felt about what he was doing.

but it was the way it was basically, your pussy was calling to him, the way they tightened around his fingers. "damn- already wet for me, baby?" he teased as he lowered his head to set a kiss on your cheek, watching you whimper, and arch your back from the simple art of getting played with (and it was just his fingers, just imagine his cock!!)

as he unbuckled his belt, shit you couldn't deny the sound of hearing his pants lower and drop the ground turned you on so much- ahh you could already imagine the way it'd feel inside. but you didn't have to imagine because he already lowered his cock to enter inside you, shit you could feel your already split in half from just the tip.

you can feel his girth, every vein, and inch, you could feel everything. "shh baby, i know you can take it." you could feel a reassuring squeeze on your palm. you could feel his forehead in contact with your as he slowly continued to penetrate, so slowly, so sensually. you felt a plethora of emotions, the guilt being quickly washed over with pleasure.

"ah- uhuh? you like that? like the way my cock kisses your stomach, sweetheart?" he teases into the shell of your ear. sending shudders down your spine, kissing your neck briefly. "ahh- mmf! yes, i do.." you whimper out with shame, the way his shaft smacked against your g-spot felt so good.

your legs started to tremble. you could feel his skin slap onto yours, making loud sounds that definitely would wake his neighbors up.

the strength in his palms that kept your thigh up on his shoulder now never faltered. hearing each moan felt like he only wanted to penetrate you even more.

"ah ah ah. careful with your sound so, pretty. you might wake up 'winnie." coy teasing is heard from the low rasp of his voice- damn he knew what he was doing. it was hard as hell to keep it down if his cock made such an adorable bulge in your stomach.

reaching for your swollen clit, rubbing over it with his thumb- oh fuck you could feel your third orgasm coming already. it didn't help how quickly he thrusts inside you, adding onto the euphoria you felt pooling in your stomach. the pressure only got worse the more you could hear his groans.

you started to clench onto the base of his cock, making it even harder for him to penetrate your stomach the way he did previously. "damn baby- relax, tryna keep me in there, or something?" he teased, promptly speeding up his digit over your pussy.

"haahn- gonna.. gonna c-cum wrio- fffuck!" you moaned loudly, squirting succus, as wrio holds your hips close to his own.

"hooollyy shiiit.. came all over me baby." he says breaths between his words.

he slowly pulled out of you, finally leaving your puffy hole alone, keeping one of his hands on your cunt still. "stay still, pretty." he licked a stripe over it, progressively lapping up the mix of cum between you both in your hole.

there was just something about either keeping every last drop in there, or at least letting himself have a taste to indulge in more intimacy as you calm down from your high (or cum on his tongue again, whatever you want.)

wriothesley who carries you bridal style to the bathroom. cleaning you up, and lets you borrow some of his clothes for the mean time before you go back home.

"dad! look! there's a storm outside!" sigewinne points out, her little finger out the window, cheek against the glass.

seems like you won't leave for now, how about you stay for the night?

587 notes · View notes

csainzoperator · 1 year ago

Text

yummy: LN4 ☆

summary: y/n is a chef in the mclaren hospitality who is famous for her fabulous recipies. everyone is head over heels for her recipies, and a certain someone is most definitely more than head over heels. but not just for the food.

(lando norris x fem!reader)

read more under the cut!

itsmey/n has posted!

another day at work! for the british gp, their special "sticky toffee pudding" was a success :)

tagged: landonorris and oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, lewishamilton and 76,123 others.

landonorris it was so yum (she fed us the so called desert forcefully after giving us a 4 course meal)

- oscarpiastri you're such an ungrateful brat. it was great, bestie itsmey/n

- itsmey/n thank you pastry, and lando...i might leave you to starve to death.

lewishamilton i would kill for a pudding rn! you should drop by merc hospitality y/n!

- mclaren look at you trying to steal our goddamn chef....

f1wagsss oh my god you're so pretty

landonorris has posted!

P2 AT HOME RACE BABY!! so proud of the team to be finishing at P2 and P4. also special thanks to y/n for feeding us well :)

tagged: oscar piastri and itsmey/n

liked by georgerussell63, carlossainz55, itsmey/n and 872,182,283 others.

landonorizz are we gonn ignore the fact that y/n just made it to a lando post???

lechaaair OH Y/N FEEDS US TOO. SHE SERVES ALL THE DAMN TIME. MOTHER 🙏🏼🙏🏼

itsmey/n its literally my job tho...?

- oscarpiastri some people are bad at their job. he's appreciating you for being good. (lando you fr have no rizz man)

carlaando lando are you trynna make a move GN

- landonowinss BROS PROBABLY REGRETTING RN 💀

(time skip!)

it was the hungarian gp. you were in the mclaren hospitality. the mclaren kitchen was quite big, and your co-workers were extremely sweet. you mainly cooked for the drivers and mechanics, while guiding the others. you were tasting a dish when you feel a presence behind you. you immediately recognise who it is.

"what is it now, lando?" you ask with a knowing smile on your face. he sits down on the counter beside you and watches you as you work. "i was wondering if you would like to, maybe, just maybe, come outside with me and sit down and talk and get some food you know?" he blabbers

"are you asking me out on a date?" you tease him. "well, yeah. only if you want it to be. its okay if you say no" he says with a sad smile on his face. you cup his face with one of your hands and give his cheeks a squeeze. "ofcourse i'll come, dumbass. now shoo, let me work. you're too distracting"

the smug smile he has on his face makes you blush. "so i am distracting huh? what else am i? you can give me details when we go on that date" he winks at you and walks off. you just simply shake your head in amusement.

the date goes well. to be honest, more than well. you both have the most fun ever. lando is everything that you craved. he was the sweetest boy. day by day, meal by meal, both of you started talking more, discovering each other. one fine night, in his apartment in london, where you taught him how to bake his favourite cake, he surprises you by asking you to be his girlfriend. you say yes without hesitation. you knew he wasn't going to play around with your heart.

it was the brazilian gp. lando had placed P2 again! you were the proudest girlfriend to exist, and the happiest. you were just so incredibly proud as he was doing so good this year.

itsmey/n has posted!

brazil you were brilliiianttt <3 liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren, landonorris and 92,233 others.

f1wags HOLD UP. SOFT LAUNCHING????

oscarpiastri yuck i hate being around the hospitality now.

landonorris 🌟

- carlandodod PLS IM NOT OK WHAT DOES THIS MEAN.

- leclercvc oh. my. god. guys. i think its lando and y/n.

f1gosssip apparently some people saw looking for his "girlfriend" after the race, and some people even saw him kissing a girl in the mclaren garage! we hope its y/n 😫

y/nfannn MOTHER WHO IS THAT

landonorris has posted!

brazil with bae. thank you team for making the P2 happen! more to come.

p.s i don't believe in soft launches. she let me hard launch after 8 races 🖐🏼

tagged: itsmey/n and mclaren

liked by mclaren, itsmey/n, charles_leclerc and 827,123,12 others.

oscarpiastri GAG

carlandooo MAMA Y PAPA

carlossainz55 finally mate! congrats :)

maxverstappen1 lando isn't a kid anymore

f1wags OFFICIALLY OUR FAV WAG (with lily obv)

itsmey/n i love you, baby! super proud <3

- landonorris i love YOU. so much. so much.

paddockclubb 8 RACES?? HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN GOING ON OMG

the end ♡

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #carlos sainz x reader #f1 instagram au #fanfiction #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #formula one #instagram au #fanfic

2K notes · View notes

megwritesriddles · 3 months ago

Text

Caught Inbetween ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Sebastian (Stardew Valley) x Fem! Reader / You x Sam (Stardew Valley)

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 3 - Threesome. Abigail goes home early from game night, leaving Reader alone with the two boys for the night, only, Sam is acting a little too friendly.

Tags: Threesome F/M/M, P in V, Unprotected sex, Fingering, Oral sex (f and m receiving), Praise kink, Handjob, Pet names, Overstimulation, Multiple orgasms, Munch! Sam AND Seb, Friends to lovers, No action between Sam and Sebastian, PWP, No plot, Mentions of smoking.

Word count: 3.1k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: Considered making it a Challengers vibe and having Sam and Seb be a bit gay, but opted to have them focus on the reader!! Also I hope it's not too painfully obvious that I've never had a threesome lol!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

“Do you really have to go?” You pouted in the doorway as Abigail pulled her shoes on. She gave you an exasperated smile, deftly tying her laces. “Don’t leave me alone with two boys!” you whine playfully. She stands and nudges you with her elbow.

“It’s Sam and Seb, how bad can it be? I used to hang with them alone all the time before you moved here,” she reaches behind you for her coat on the hook, and you continue pouting.

“Oh come on… you’re sure your dad won’t let you off of opening duty?” you give her your best puppy dog eyes. She just scoffs and playfully slaps your arm.

“Yes, I’m sure, now I– Oh! Hey Seb,” you follow her eyeline to where Sebastian ascends the final stairs from his basement, shaking a box of cigarettes.

“Going for a smoke, I’ll walk you out Abi,” he grunts, slipping on his shoes and yanking his black jacket off of the hook. You step aside as he heads past you to the door. “I’ll be back in ten,” he glances at you over his shoulder before shoving open the door and heading out into the dark misty evening. You wonder if you imagined how his eyes had flicked down your body just then, shaking off the thought. You wave poutily to Abigail as she heads out behind him, she sticks her tongue out and waves back at you. The cool air pushes its way in forcefully through the door making you shiver, you yank it shut with a loud thud, before turning and hopping down the stairs back to Sebastian’s basement room. Sam is lounging on the small couch when you reappear, flicking uninterestedly through one of Sebastian’s computer magazines, the game of Solarion Chronicles from earlier discarded on the table now that Abigail has gone home.

“Oh thank God, I was beginning to think everyone had abandoned me,” Sam jokes, sitting up straight and tossing the magazine to the ground. You chuckle, walking over to sit beside him at his patted invitation. “I can always count on you,” he comments with a grin. You rest your head on the back of the couch, smiling up at him. “You look a little tired,” he frowns. You glare at him for that comment but sigh in defeat.

“Farming isn’t for the weak,” you grumble, rubbing your forehead for a moment. “It’s nice to get away from it for a little while,”

“I bet it is,” he coos, you give him a suspicious glance at his sickly sweet tone. He places a hand on your shoulder and draws you closer. “Here, let me rub your shoulders,” he suggests gently. As suspicious as you are of his actions, you can’t deny that you need a massage. You figure he’s just going to ask you to bake him some maple bars or something, and you don’t mind, considering you’re planning to bake tomorrow anyway. So, you turn around and relax your body as he pushes your hair aside and starts to gently work the muscles of your neck. His hands cup your shoulders, his thumbs digging into your neck, rubbing at the sore stiff muscles. It feels good, so good that you can’t stop your eyes from closing and a few little groans from escaping your lips, which only seem to egg him on. He rubs harder and hums softly. “God, you’re stiff,” he whispers against your ear. His tone gives you pause, your eyes fluttering back open. Had you imagined it or had he said that sort of… seductively? You turn your head slightly, trying to meet his eye, he just smiles lazily at you. “Stay still,” he chastises playfully, turning your head back around with care. He resumes his work, his thumbs slipping under the collar of your sweater to rub your shoulders. You groan again despite yourself, you really were stiff…

The door opening gets your attention, and you flush like you’ve been caught doing something inappropriate, even though nothing untoward is happening. Sebastian raises a brow at the two of you as he walks in. He walks over and sits down in front of you on the couch, smirking at you slightly. He glances behind you to meet Sam’s eye, looking like he knows something you don’t. As if in response to this look, Sam rubs his thumbs into your muscles a little harder, making you choke out a small sound. You feel embarrassed, but the boys just smile knowingly at one another, making you even more flustered.

“Our poor little farmer is all stiff and tired,” Sam coos gently from behind you. Sebastian pouts at you in response, you want to ask questions but the attractiveness of his pout keeps you quiet. Sebastian moves closer to you and you feel your breathing speed up as both boys crowd into your space. Sebastian’s hand comes up, pushing some hair away from your cheek, letting his fingertips linger. Your face twists in confusion for a moment before you break into a disbelieving smirk. They were trying to seduce you, together. This was certainly a change of pace. Sebastian smiles back at you almost shyly as Sam massages you, sensing you’ve figured them out.

“So, what’s all this really about?” you ask accusingly, glancing between them, but they can hear you’re not really angry. Sam chuckles in your ear.

“You’re too perceptive,” he sighs, gently removing his hands from your shoulders. You turn so you can look between the two of them, they both look a little bashful now. “We never usually get a chance to get you alone without Abi,” he comments.

“And you look so beautiful,” Sebastian adds breathlessly. “We’ve always thought so,” you blush gently.

“Let us help you… destress…” Sam purrs. “We’ll make it so good for you,” he promises, placing his hand on your thigh gently.

“Both of you?” you confirm. When they nod in response, you feel yourself shiver at the thought. You’ve never really considered a threesome before, but now that the opportunity was in front of you, you felt yourself growing wetter by the second. You’d fantasised about both of them separately throughout your time as their friend, but now your brain was supplying you with an enticing mashup of these thoughts. Sebastian carefully wraps his arm around you, pulling you to lean against his chest, sitting between his legs. He nuzzles his nose against your neck, the scent of his cologne and the surprisingly enticing scent of cigarettes engulfing you completely, leaving you almost lightheaded.

“Will you let us?” he asks you quietly, his voice strained like it’s taking him a horrible effort to hold back from you. You breathe heavily as Sam places his hands on your knees, rubbing gently. Your eyes meet his and you see the lust there, the lust you feel mirrored in the pit of your stomach.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll… let you,” you pant slightly. You immediately feel Sebastian's lithe fingers caressing your jaw, turning your head towards his own. He glances over your features for a moment before capturing your lips with his own. You whine softly as he kisses you desperately, his hands sliding up and down your sides. Your eyes shut, leaning back into Sebastian to get closer. His lips taste like mint, suggesting he had some gum after smoking in preparation to kiss you. It makes you smile softly. You feel fingers on your jaw, turning your head again and Sam is suddenly right in front of you, his eyes wide, pupils swallowing his irises. His lips are on yours swiftly, kissing with less control than Sebastian had, one hand cupping your cheek. You wonder in the back of your mind if he can taste the mint from Sebastian’s spit. You hear Sebastian breathing heavily by your ear, watching as Sam kisses you feverishly. His hand sneaks down your body while you’re distracted, sliding into the waistband of your pants and your panties. You gasp shakily as his fingertip trails up and down your wet folds, getting a feel for you. He groans softly as he gathers up some wetness and brings it up so he can more easily tease your sensitive bundle of nerves. You moan into your kiss with Sam at his barely there stimulation.

“She’s so wet Sam,” he exhales. You whine in embarrassment, Sebastian just kisses your neck soothingly in response. Sam withdraws from your lips, taking in how they’re pink and glossy from his kisses.

“Gotta see,” he grunts, leaning back to tug at your pants. You can’t believe what’s happening as you lift your hips, allowing him to bare your most intimate parts. His eyes flutter and he practically chokes at the sight of you as he gently spreads your legs, watching Sebastian’s finger swirl over you, making you twitch. “She’s soaked,” he whimpers. “You must really want us, eh pretty girl? He chuckles slightly, eyes fixed between your legs.

“Shut up,” you mumble weakly, moaning softly as Sebastian applies a little more pressure. Both boys chuckle at you and you find yourself laughing too, or at least trying to through the soothing pleasure.

“Didn’t you say you’d always wanted to eat her out?” Sebastian muses to Sam. You file away the realisation that they’ve talked about this seemingly extensively for later. Sam nods eagerly.

“Good call,” he mumbles, lowering himself so his head is between your legs. You gasp as his breath washes over your core, making you clench around nothing. Sebastian removes his finger, shuffling you back and tighter against his chest so Sam can settle more comfortably between your thighs. Sam begins to pepper kisses on your inner thighs, eyes glued to the glistening prize between your legs. “Please say I can taste you,” he groans. You just whine needily, but he seems to understand it fine, leaning in and licking a thick stripe over you, just to taste you. You both moan in unison as he does it. “Fuck… so perfect,” he dives in, bringing his hand up to spread you open, gently swirling his tongue over you. Sebastian is tugging your sweater over your head, but you barely register it over the sensations between your legs. There’s a soft thud as your sweater hits the floor, quickly followed by your bra, leaving you completely naked. Sebastian's hands roam all over your torso as Sam laps up at you relentlessly, moaning periodically at the taste of you. He holds your thighs open as they keep threatening to close around his head as you writhe and tense from his ministrations. Sebastian’s lips are on yours again, greedily swallowing up your moans and whines as Sam flicks his tongue quickly back and forth over your clit. Sebastian cups your breasts roughly as you arch up into his touch.

“Gorgeous,” he mumbles against your lips. “You look and sound gorgeous baby,” Sam grunts in agreement against you, making you shiver. The room fills with obscene slurping noises as Sam begins to suckle at your clit. You cry out, your whole body tensing and your thighs fighting to close again. “Just let it happen, baby,” Sebastian coaxes, softly circling his thumbs over your hardened nipples. The mixture of sensations is proving a lot to fight off, the rhythmic pattern of sucks and licks Sam is giving you making you feel lightheaded and tightening the knot in your stomach until it finally snaps and you scream. Whatever comes out of your mouth is some sort of odd mix of both of their names, but they seem to thoroughly enjoy it anyway. Sam moans in response, lapping at your release feverishly, savouring every single drop even as you start to shake for slight overstimulation. He finally withdraws, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, standing up. Sebastian shuffles behind you, gently laying you down on the couch as he wordlessly moves to where Sam just was. You look down at him, dazed. “Hope you saved some for me, pretty girl,” he teases, wrapping his arms under your body to hold you in place, placing a few feather-light kisses onto your swollen bud, making you whine and buck. He smiles and chuckles. “You did a good job down here, Sam,”

“Of course, anything for our pretty girl,” he coos, leaning down to kiss your forehead as Sebastian begins teasing you ever so gently with his tongue. Your entire body is flushed and glistening with perspiration by this point, but both boys admire you like you’re some sort of treasure. You kiss Sam slowly for a while, tasting your release on his tongue as Sebastian lavishes you with gentle attention, careful not to overwhelm you, but to still bring you more and more pleasure. One of your hands moves down into Sebastian's hair, gripping gently, you feel him smile against you and the feeling is oddly erotic. Sam takes the wrist of your other hand, kissing your palm a few times as he undoes his jeans and frees himself from his boxers before lowering your hand onto him. You’re momentarily surprised but quickly regain yourself, softly wrapping your hand around his length, and starting to pump gently. He groans erotically, twitching in your hand, already sticky with pre-cum. “You have no idea how much we’ve fantasised about this,” Sam grunts, thrusting up into your hand a little. You just whimper in response, tightening your grip slightly. Sebastian is watching the two of you closely, his tongue still drawing slow patterns against you.

“Every night for weeks,” Sebastian adds, his voice vibrating against you. “Sam was right, you taste heavenly,” he groans. You laugh breathlessly, concentration on your hand movements becoming harder as Sebastian starts to lick more intently now. Sam caresses your hair as your head falls to the side, becoming overwhelmed by the sensations once more. Your hand speeds up on Sam’s cock to make up for what you know is coming. Copying what Sam had done to drive you mad, Sebastian starts to suckle against you, albeit more gently. It has the same effect anyway due to the previous orgasm. You tug at Sam harder and he chokes out a guttural noise, fucking into your fist as you falter, your second orgasm of the night overtaking you. You throw your head back into the couch in a silent scream, your hips stuttering wildly up against Sebastian’s mouth. He pulls away abruptly once you’ve ridden it out, and you think you’re getting a break, but no such luck, not that you’re really complaining. Sebastian sits up on his knees between your legs, gripping your hips and pulling them up. You squeak in surprise as his tip prods against your entrance, sliding inside with minimal resistance, due to the lubrication provided by your orgasm. He meets a little more resistance deeper inside, carefully pushing through it, bottoming out. He takes a deep shaky breath, looking utterly blissful.

“Tell me how she feels,” Sam begs, still softly fucking your hand like a dog in heat. His words remind you of your motionless hand and you start to move it again, twisting gently. Sam whines loudly and you feel Sebastian twitch inside you.

“Oh… she’s perfect… warm and wet and heavenly,” Sebastian gasps. “Everything we ever dreamed,” both you and Sam keen at these words. Sebastian grips your hips and starts to move gently. You’re already over-sensitive from two orgasms, so he’s being careful with you, despite his clear need for more. He grunts and whines as he fucks into you and you’re happy to realise he’s close to falling apart already, not feeling so bad that your third orgasm is already approaching. You focus on Sam for a little while, keeping up the twisting motion he seems to enjoy so much, he stares down at you looking desperate and lost in pleasure. You use one of your hands to shakily prop yourself up, letting yourself reach to gently kitten lick at his tip. He curses breathlessly at this, and Sebastian seems to like the display too, his pace picking up without even meaning to. You moan, your whole body shaking as Sebastian fucks you, trying your best to keep up your licks. His pre-cum coats your tongue and you like the taste more than you ever expected to, moaning softly. Suddenly, he’s pulling away from you hurriedly and you’re momentarily confused until he groans and spills all over your chest. You laugh breathlessly as his cock twitches above you without even being touched. Sebastian's dark eyes lock onto your cum-covered chest and he growls, fucking you faster and deeper. You whine loudly, grabbing at the couch for purchase as he seemingly goes a little feral. Panting, Sam kneels beside you, taking your hands into his own. You squeeze them hard, your eyes rolling back.

“You’re doing perfect pretty girl,” he coos soothingly as your face scrunches up in pleasure. He kisses you, seemingly unphased by his hands being crushed in yours. You kiss back desperately, feeling Sebastian slamming into you more forcefully as he gets closer. “Want my touch on your clit?” Sam asks gently, you nod frantically and he lowers his hand to rub at your swollen clit. You immediately clench around Sebastian's cock and with a few more sloppy thrusts, Sebastian pulls out and spills his seed all over your abdomen with a loud whimper. Sam coaxes you to the finish line again and you sob violently with the sensation, burying your head in his shoulder. Finally, once you’ve all calmed down a little and caught your breath, Sebastian gets up on shaky legs to fetch a rag. Sam embraces you as you wait, kissing all over your face, and whispering various praises. You melt into his arms, nodding along to his sweet words. “You were perfect for us, you must be so tired baby, sweet girl,”

Sebastian reappears, sitting down beside you and gently wiping you clean of both of their releases with the damp warm cloth. He presses a couple of reverential kisses to your stomach once it’s clean, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to your lips as Sam embraces you. Sebastian wraps you in a blanket to keep out the winter chill that is sneaking in now that you’re not so overheated with arousal. You feel incredibly tired and unsure how things will progress from here, what will this do to your friendship? What kind of relationship will this be? But one thought stands out as they settle themselves on the couch with you between them, both holding you close.

“I’m actually glad that Abi went home,”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo

540 notes · View notes

quimichi · 11 months ago

Text

₊❏❜ ⋮ MEETING THEIR FAMILIES -HEARTSLABYUL VER.

warnings: bad treatment towards reader (Riddles part), bad writing :3

summary: You meet their families

characters: Heartslabyul x F!Reader

word count:

a/n: I originally planned to do all in one part but I decided not to since it's so so much and I'm currently having a writers block but I wanna make you guys happy so-its in parts :(

Riddle

Riddle's mother is a strict woman, and she does not hide her dislike for you. She frowns the moment she sees you and crosses her arms. The situation is tense as she watches you, her gaze sharp and unblinking. She seems to be considering your motives with her son, but it is clear that she has a low opinion of you for some reason.

Riddle is nothing compared to her; he has no power, he's weak standing beside you. Yet, he stands proud, he loves you and no matter what his mother will say, his mind won't change. "Mother," he begins. She shoots a hard look at him. With that stare, she seems to say 'do. not. talk."

Riddle goes silent. He knows that if he does talk, it might ruin her approval...if that will ever happen. But you decided to speak up, nervously, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you! Riddle has told me so many lovely things of you!" you bow down, showcasing your respect. His mother's expression does not change. She seems to consider you for a while before speaking:

"Do you think yourself worthy of my son? Do you think you are a good match for him?"

It's clear that she is sizing you up, and her gaze is piercing.

"Yes." Riddle grabs your hand and gives it a tight squeeze. Showing you his support, no matter what he won't back out either, cause he knows whats coming. Your words only draw a frown from his mother. Her expression turns sour.

"I do not think you can give my son the life he deserves. You are too low class for a nobleman. It is clear why you would date him, but what do you have to offer us? It would disgrace his name and our family to wed a commoner. A magicless commoner!" She continues to size you up. She is relentless. Her frown only hardens with every passing moment.

"My son is a nobleman. He deserves a woman of nobility. Riddle dear, I know the perfect girl for you she-" "No!" His voice rings through the halls with booming thunder.

"How dare you," he shouts, his eyes like daggers. He looks as though every muscle is about to tense up so hard it'll burst. "She is good enough. She is worthy of my love. There is no one in this world who I will ever love and admire more! If you don't agree with this relationship then-!...Then I might just leave.

Riddle is standing protectively in front of you now. His heart is thrumming so hard he can feel each pulse. His last words were spoken unsure, timidly, but it's the truth.

"...Then do."

Trey

Trey's parents are thrilled to meet you. The moment they saw you at their doorstep, they took you into their family. They are gracious hosts, offering you food and drinks as soon as you step into the house. Everything is warm and welcoming. Not to mention the cake they baked for you!

The afternoon tea goes smoothly, with conversation flowing as easily as a river. "Again, thank you so much for the tea and cake! It was absolutely delicious!" "It was nothing," Trey's mother says as she refills your mug. She smiles warmly, keeping herself composed with effort. She has heard a lot about you, after all, and the impression she has received so far has been wonderful. Its hard for her to contain her pure excitement, she might explode. All her husband can do is calm her down with a hand on her shoulder, smiling both at you and his wife.

Trey doesn't dare say anything, his lips pressed shut in a smile as he watches from his place. He doesn't want to draw attention to himself, content to watch you and his parents interact.

"BROTHER!" You hear two voices yell from the hallway...seems his siblings arrived from school. Trey's young siblings finally make their grand entrance, their voices filling the room with an unexpected cacophony of excitement and joy. The scene is a chaotic one, but in a good way.

His younger brother runs up to you immediately, "Oh-Oh-! You're the pretty girl-!" Before you can question anything his sister also tunes in, "Ohhh-! She really does look as sweet as gum drops-!" "You two, shush immediately-! I'm so sorry-!" Trey's mother apologizes for the behavior of her youngest children, but you shake it off. How could you ever be upset about the honesty of those sweethearts. You definitely will have a word with Trey once you get back...

Cater

Cater never kept it a secret, how much he despises his sisters and mother sometimes. More than once he told you stories. But he has also told you that slowly, the relationship gets better...slowly.

Cater's mother is especially overbearing. She tries her best, but she seems almost incapable of not adding only their favorite sweets to the tablem. She is a bundle of nerves, and she often dotes on Cater. It's as if she finds comfort in treating him like a child, because he is so quiet and calm. Yeah, quite and calm, if only they knew who he truly was.

"Thank you so much for having me." a genuine smile sets on your lips as she pours tea into your cup. "We are so glad to have you," Cater's mother says with genuine warmth.

His sisters continue to prod you in both questions and comments, being too forceful and tactless at times. They think they're being endearing and curious, but don't quite realize that they're over stepping. Cater sits beside you, his eyes darting back and forth as the questions keep flowing. Hes annoyed, of course they will ask inappropriate questions and take the attention.

"Where was the first kiss?" "Ohhh my god did he use his tounge?" "Cater, your hair today looks frizzy." "You look cute but...that top with those jeans...i don't know. Cater you should really watch what your girlfriend wears!" "Yeah! Spend some money on her, damn." "Bad boyfriend."

The constant barrage of questions and comments from his sisters would make even the most stoic people wither. You are not one of those people - you are more patient than you ever realized. You smile through the barrage of words, answering most that you can, ignoring the rest. It hurts, some hurt. You get Cater now to 100%. Your calm demeanor and soft eyes would calm anyone's heart, but his sisters are a bit too persistent, their endless questioning seeming to have no end.

This goes on for some time, until Cater is visibly agitated. "Stop," he says under his breath. He is usually calm and collected, so it draws everyone's attention, even his mother's. "What?" One of his sisters finally asks, feigning innocence.

"Enough," he says simply, but his tone is enough to get them to back off.

He takes a few breaths before giving his mother and sisters a smile. The situation diffuses, but you can sense that he is annoyed. "I just wanted to introduce you to my girlfriend, we didnt came here for an interview. Her outfit is perfect, and I'm NOT a bad boyfriend! I know I'm not..."

Ace

Ace's older brother is charming, witty, and well-liked by everyone. He teases his little brother without any cruelty, making lighthearted jokes at his expense. He is very protective of Ace, he just wants his little brother to be happy. And obviously he wants him to behave in this relationship too.

"He has spoken of you a lot," the older brother comments, his tone teasing. His brother wiggles his eyebrows towards him, "A bit too much, it seems," Ace says, keeping his voice low, but you hear the annoyance.

"I can't help but hear all about you whenever he's calling me... how much he cares for you, how he's so lucky to have you..." his brother's tone is good-natured. He's just having fun, and hes so glad his brother found true happiness. "Ohh, what else did you say?" Ace can hear the teasing in your voice, no way you're going into this too. "Shut up-!" "Oh, you know," the older brother laughs. "He says you are the sweetest, most beautiful being in the whole wide world. You're an angle with the patience you have for him. He would do anything for you without a second thought. He swears he has never loved another as he has you."

"What a mushy little guy my brother can be," his older brother says, sounding amused.

Ace is turning red. His voice comes out slightly strained, cracking. "I-! I NEVER-! Shut up I never said anything like that, that's way to sappy!" "Mhmmmm, sure bro, sure" His older brother smiles, genuinely.

"I've never seen him so happy," he says, "He's truly a good guy, he just has some rough edges. I'm glad someone like you took their time to get to know him...Take care of him for me."

Deuce

His mother beams. "Oh! This is the one you've been telling me about? You've done well. She is a beauty!"

Deuce's face is tomato red. He is the picture of nervousness, his eyes darting about the room with his mouth clamped shut for fear that he will say too much or too little. His mother's enthusiastic and effusive approach is overwhelming him. He wants to sink into the floor, damning himself for telling his mother and grandmother about you so much. "We are so delighted to have you here. Please," his mother continues, offering you her seat. "Sit, sit! No need to stand around!"

She smiles widely at you as she gestures to a plush chair across from them. A low table separates you, and the three of you are arranged across from one another. Deuce's grandmother walks slowly behind his mother, bearing a tray of tea and pastries in her hands. Without a word, she sits down and quietly offers one of the small cakes to you.

She doesn't take her eyes away from you, smiling wide. You can't help but smile back at her, but before you can thank her she leans closer to Deuce mother. "Perfect aren't they? I knew someone wil eventually see that our Deuce is a catch." She wasn't as discreet as she thought she was, but you can only agree with her, Deuce is a catch.

"Thank you so much-!" "It's nothing, dear," she says, her voice soft as velvet. His mother breaks the silence, leaning forward in her seat. "Now then, tell us all about yourselves. We have heard plenty from our son, but we want to hear from you."

Deuce is paralyzed. He has nothing ready to say. His mouth is dry and his heart is pounding in his chest. Although he is more than happy both his most loved family members love you, he is still nervous. It's embarrassing! "Wait-!" His grandmother immediately stands up from her seat. She disappears and reappears with a thick photo album. She settles back down and opens it.

"Now, let me show you my handsome boy when he was young. I think this is a much better idea!"

Deuce's head falls back, someone kill him. His heart stops at the pictures of himself....fuck...he's naked....

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland headcanon #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #ace trapolla x reader #deuce spade x reader #heartslabyul #heartslaybul x reader #twst x reader

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yelenasdiary · 18 days ago

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soft fluffy nat where the two of you are in love with each other but haven’t confessed. nat is superrrr into the holidays like it surprises everyone but she’s proud of it. she knows you haven’t had the best christmas previous years and she’s determined to make this the best one for you. she loves everything like baking (nat cannot cook that is canon but i honestly think she could bake lowkey😭) putting up the christmas tree in the compound and decorating it. she’s just super soft around christmas and you just fall even more in love with her. you share sweet moments together throughout the days leading up to christmas and eventually the two of you confess and ugh i love soft nat i miss her

Waiting Under The Mistletoe

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Summary: You and Natasha have been struggling to admit your feelings for one another.

Fluff, Tiny Angst

Warnings: None, if there is any, please let me know! | 1.2K

AC: Happy Christmas Eve!!! Thank you for sending this! I hope you enjoy! x

Holiday Special Masterlist

It was that time of year again, Christmas. The time of year where you felt more of a burden than a blessing, but this year felt different already. The compound had turned from its usual dark grey vibe to bursts of festive spirit and colors. As you walked the hall towards the large meeting room, your eyes took in how perfectly the decorations were hung, compliments to Wanda, so you thought.

“Hey!” Natasha called out, making you stop in your tracks as you turned to face her. She smiled softly at you, “on your way to the meeting?” She asked.

“Hopefully the last one for the year!” You chuckled as the two of you slowly began to continue the walk to the others. “What do you say we put the Christmas tree up afterwards?” Black Widow asked, making you cock a brow at her.

“You want to put the tree up?” You asked, intrigued.

“Of course, I mean, I already decorated half the compound over night” she replied proudly.

“Wait, you did all this?” You stopped in your tracks once more, surprised by Natasha’s hidden love for the Christmas season. Natasha chuckled, “who do you think did all this?”

“Wanda” you replied without a second thought.

“Wanda is Jewish” the red head reminded you.

“Yeah but she’s always making sure we’re together for Christmas dinner so I just assumed. You love Christmas? That’s kinda cute” you smiled softly. Natasha’s eyes dropped nervously as her iconic smirk tugged at her lips, “so I’ll take that as a yes?” She said, looking back up at you.

“Alright, but I’m warning you, my tree decorating skills are horrible” you replied.

“I’ll take my chances” Nat playfully winked as the two of you entered the conference room.

It was hard to focus on anything Fury was saying during the meeting with your mind so focused on Natasha and the way her eyes were glued to the piece of paper in front of her, she was always good at putting life aside for work. Outside this room, she was a softy with a love for Christmas but inside the room she was Black Widow, listening to every single word that was said in the meeting with clear understanding.

Once Fury added his last words, the room was dismissed. Nat looked over at you and smiled softly, “ready to put those horrible tree decorating skills to the test?” She teased making you chuckle lightly.

“Are you ready for them?” You asked.

“Like I said, I’ll take my chances, lets go!”

----

Your heart swelled at Natasha’s enthusiasm; it was infectious as you watched her wrap the LED fairy lights around the fake tree while she hummed her favorite Christmas classic softly to herself. With the others hovering around, picking at the baked goodies Nat had baked last night while watching the tough Black Widow decorate a Christmas tree, you couldn’t help but fall deeper for her.

The room echoed with chatter from those around you, but all you could focus on was Natasha. She caught your eye and for a moment, the noise faded. “Now that the lights are on, help yourself to that box of ornaments and get decorating!” She smiled softly. Her soft tone snapping you back to reality as you gave her a playful grin.

“I hope you’re ready for this Romanoff!” You teased, reaching for some of the ornaments in the box beside you. She shot back a smile, “are you sure you know where they go?” She asked in a teasing tone.

“Ha, ha!” You replied sarcastically as you closed the small gap between you and the tree. Natasha stood back for a brief moment to watch you place the first ornament on the tree, she admired the way you took a second to think about where you wanted each ornament to be placed, hanging them on different branches before giving yourself a nod of approval.

The two of you spent the afternoon hanging ornaments on the large tree and wrapping it in shimmering tinsel that sparkled softly against the fairy lights. Nat still softly hummed her favorite Christmas tunes, and you weren’t sure how long it was until they caught you in their trap. The two of you humming softly while twirling around each other.

The days leading up to Christmas slipped by in a blur of laughter and sweet moments, each day your feelings growing stronger for the avenger, as if they could get any stronger. From Natasha sweet talking you into baking with her to helping her wrap presents for the others. Every moment felt more magical than the last.

On Christmas Eve, you found yourself wrapped in a blanket on the sofa, watching holiday movies with the room dimly lit and the tree twinkling softly in the corner. Natasha looked at you for a moment and for that moment, time stood still.

“Everything okay?” You asked, your cheeks feeling warm.

“Yeah” she smiled softly, “everything is perfect” she added.

----

Christmas morning, you woke up to the sound of laughter echoing through the compound. You couldn’t believe you had slightly slept in, you rushed down the stairs where you found Natasha already locking eyes with you. She smiled softly, “good morning sleepy head” she greeted.

“You didn’t wake me?” You questioned, almost forgetting there were others in the room.

“Come here” she replied softly, her eyes sparkling from the tree beside her.

You stepped closer, your heart racing as you realized what was hanging above the redhead. Your cheeks flushed under her glaze as you closed the gap between you two. “I’ve been waiting for this” she said, her voice soft like marshmallows. “I want to tell you something” she paused, her expression shifting ever so slightly.

“These last few weeks have made me the happiest I’ve ever been in a long time and it’s because I got to spend every moment with you” she started, smiling softly. “You make me so happy, I love everything we have shared since we met. I’ve been too afraid to say anything to you because I’d hate myself if I ruined what we already have but, I’m so deeply in love with you that not telling you was driving me crazy. Last night, I wanted to kiss you and tell you but I didn’t want to ruin the moment” she added.

The room fell silent, time standing still as you processed her words. You pinched yourself wondering if you were still asleep, dreaming of a different life but the pain was very much real and the woman you adored was standing in front of you, under a mistletoe, telling you how she felt.

“I love you too” you finally said, your voice slightly breaking with emotions, “I’ve wanted to say that for so long” you added.

A smile broke on Nat’s face, her hands gently placed on your hips as she pulled you closer. “Merry Christmas” she whispered before her lips pressed against yours, making sure you knew that she meant every single word. Kissing you deeply, the two of you not caring that half the compound just watched everything unfold.

“Best Christmas ever” you whispered against her lips, her arms wrapped around you. She smiled softly, “agreed”.

If you want to be on the taglist for my work, please click HERE.

#yelenasdiary asks #daddynattt #snoop #fanfiction #marvel #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x You #Natasha Romanoff #Christmas #Black Widow

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inkedinshadows · 2 months ago

Text

A Place Called Home

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader

Summary: Follow Azriel as he recalls all the places where he's lived but never belonged, until he finds the one where he finally does.

Warnings: a bit of Inner Circle slander, I guess? But not really tbh. Mentions of wing clipping

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: I don't know what I think of this one tbh. It's not exactly what I had in mind, but I've made my peace with it. @azrielappreciationweek

Azriel had never belonged in his father's mansion. He never once believed he did. But he didn't belong in Illyria, either.

Though he was Illyrian, he always disapproved of their backward traditions, especially regarding females.

He had seen how his mother was treated; he knew what had happened to Cassian’s, and too many times during his training in Windhaven, he had to witness brutal clippings without being able to stop them.

How could he belong in such a place? A place where females were treated as little more than objects and breeding mares, where children were taught to fight as soon as they could walk and left to care for themselves in the mud and cold?

He had done horrible things—most of which to protect his family and court—and they still haunted him in his sleep at times. But he liked to think that he was at least better than the Illyrian brutes he had grown up among. That there were certain lines even he wouldn't cross.

Illyria was a beautiful land, with its snow-capped mountains and frozen lakes. It could be merciless and harsh, but that was nature. Its inhabitants, however, chose to be that way, and Azriel had long since lost faith in any change.

~~~~~~

He didn't belong in Rosehall, either.

He was always welcome there and visited as often as he could, but that was his mother’s house. He had bought it for her as soon as he had enough money.

It was her safe place, her haven, where she didn't have to worry about anything and where she wasn't anyone's servant. Azriel remembered the tears shining in her eyes the first time he brought her there, when the house was still empty and cold.

It had taken him a long time to convince her that she didn't need to worry about money. He worked directly for the High Lord now, and he was paid well enough for her to furnish the house however she liked.

She had still tried not to spend too much, but she had chosen each piece of furniture and decoration with attentive care. It was the first time she had a place she could call her own after centuries of living, and Azriel liked what she had done with it. The place was simple yet elegant, with cream-colored walls and wooden furniture. Colorful flowers bloomed on the windowsills, and paintings hung in the hallway and the living room. She had even made sure to have a bedroom for him, so he could stay as long as he wished.

But Azriel's favorite part of Rosehall was probably the delicious smell of food wafting through the rooms. Now that she no longer had to cook for domineering males, she had rediscovered her passion for cooking. Whether it was spices, freshly baked bread, or roasted meat, the smell never failed to make his mouth water.

Yes, Azriel enjoyed his time in Rosehall and tried to visit as often as he could, but it was still his mother’s house—not his.

~~~~~~

He belonged in the Inner Circle, he guessed. Though sometimes he felt like he didn't.

Azriel cared about Amren; after all, he had known her for centuries. But it was still Amren. How many times had it been just the two of them, spending time like normal friends? Once, maybe twice, and even then, their conversations had mostly revolved around Court matters. Sometimes he wondered if they would have ever approached each other at all if it hadn't been for Rhys bringing them together.

And then there was Mor. He had spent centuries quietly loving her, longing for something he could never have. He had long since stopped believing that her concerned glances and gentle touches meant anything beyond deep affection—sisterly affection. Yet he'd held on to those feelings even when they started to fade, because he had never known anything different. It was a twisted form of both protection and punishment: if he still loved her, then he wouldn't risk his heart being broken by another rejection. Yet knowing Mor would never feel the same, that she had her own lovers and relationships, was like being stabbed in the chest. He wasn't sure when it started to hurt a little less each time he thought about it.

With that pain easing, the resentment he'd carried buried deep down for most of his life began to fade as well. He never once held it against Cassian. He knew it wasn't his fault Mor had chosen him. Who would have chosen Azriel anyway? He wished things were different, but he didn't blame either of them. It still chafed, though. It was something he couldn't shake, like a shadow lingered on the edges of his heart, and it resurfaced whenever he saw Mor and Cassian together.

And his brother… Azriel loved him deeply, and he was grateful to have him in his life. But there was no denying how different they were, and sometimes it felt as if Cassian didn't really understand him. There was a rage inside Azriel, rarely rising to the surface but it was there, born the moment he'd seen his mother's fear in the presence of his father. That rage never left. It grew until Azriel had to learn how to contain it, to live with it, for the sake of the people around him and his own.

Cassian never really understood it. Rhys did, though. Azriel knew that if he pushed, Rhysand would match him. Yet his brother still tried to thaw and tame that icy rage he had grown so accustomed to, which was probably an honorable aim—if Azriel hadn't lived with it so long that he wasn't sure who he would be without it.

He loved his family deeply, and he knew they loved him back. But they didn't always understand him, and he often felt out of place among them.

~~~~~~

Velaris was his home, and he'd do anything to protect it. He tortured and killed for that very reason many times. But at the end of the day, the City of Starlight was just that—a city. No matter how beautiful or welcoming, it was too vast a place to call home.

He had never bothered buying an apartment or a town house for himself. Maybe he should have. But the House of Wind had always been enough, with its views and endless rooms. It was practical living there—there was the training ring, the hall where Rhys held court, and the library for when he wanted some quiet.

But the House of Wind belonged to Rhys. Now that he had given it as a mating present to Nesta and Cassian, it was theirs. They assured him he could still live there, that his room would always be his, but Azriel had preferred to move out. He had no interest in living there during their mating frenzy.

The townhouse and the river house belonged, once again, to Rhys and Feyre. They never made him feel like he owed them anything for staying there—Elain lived there too, after all—but Azriel longed for a place he could call his own. Yet the idea of buying an apartment had still felt too definitive. He had tried, but none of the places he'd seen made him want to own them.

He had almost given up hope of finding a place he could call home, but then he met you. And he realized, after five hundred years, that maybe home wasn't a place at all.

“Az?”

Your voice cut through his thoughts, bringing him back to the present, to the feel of you in his arms and your big eyes staring up at him.

“Baby, are you listening to me?”

Azriel blinked, slightly shaking his head to chase away the remnants of his past. He looked down at you, and his heart fluttered at the love shining in your eyes.

“Hi,” you said with a soft smile. Your hand came up to cup his face, the touch warm and familiar. “I lost you. Where did you go?”

“Sorry,” he breathed. “I was just thinking.”

You waited patiently, giving him the freedom to continue or return to your conversion. Embarrassment flooded Azriel as he realized he couldn't remember what you were talking about.

He held you imperceptibly tighter, trying to find the right words to convey what he felt.

“I never felt like I fit in anywhere,” he said eventually. His voice was quiet even in the silence of the room, and he struggled to keep his eyes open when all he wanted to do was lean into your touch. “I've been looking for where I belong for centuries.”

It came easy to voice those thoughts to you. You never judged. You listened, and then you gave your opinion or simply shared your own thoughts. You saw all of him, and you didn't run from it. You accepted him. You loved him.

Sometimes, Azriel still wondered if it was all a dream or if you were really a part of his life.

“And have you found it?” you murmured, your thumb brushing his cheek just below his eye.

Azriel nodded. “I found it.” He took your hand, gently removing it from his face to bring it closer to his mouth. He pressed a tender kiss to your palm, his lips lingering on your skin before he repeated the gesture with your fingertips. Your smile was soft as he murmured, “I found you.”

Your eyes, which had been following the movements of his lips, shot up to meet his. Even after a year together, he was still mesmerized by how you always wore your heart on your sleeve. It was so easy to read you, and right now, blended with your unconditional love, he could see curiosity and amusement playing on your features.

“Me?” you repeated, your voice a murmur.

Azriel nodded once more, letting go of your hand only to bring his own up to your cheek. “Yes, you, my love.” He rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he breathed in your scent. “It doesn’t matter where we are. You’re where I belong. You’re my home.”

Wherever you went, he would follow. If you woke up one day and told him you wanted to move to the Spring Court, or even to Vallahan far east on the continent, he would go with you. He would go with you to the end of the world if you asked.

He could feel your heart beating faster in your chest, and a playful smile appeared on your lips as you pulled back to look into his eyes. “So… is this the right moment to tell you that I wanted to ask you to move in?”

Azriel stared at you, eyes wide, a huge grin slowly spreading across his face. His arms tightened around you, and then you squealed in surprise as his hands found your backside and he picked you up. The sound was quickly swallowed by his lips crashing against yours, and you could do nothing but kiss him back and wrap your legs around his waist, careful not to brush against his wings.

You were both breathing slightly faster when Azriel pulled back, but he didn’t let you go. If anything, he held you tighter, as if worried you might disappear.

“I’ll take it that’s a yes?” you chuckled. Your fingers brushed the hair on the back of his neck, his wings rustling quietly at the sensation.

“Yes,” he breathed. “Of course it’s a yes, love.”

He didn’t care if your apartment wasn’t suited for an Illyrian, if he had to carefully maneuver his wings to avoid knocking things over. He had already spent so much time at your place that he was used to it by now. The thought of staying there permanently—of waking up with you in his arms every morning, of coming back after a long day knowing you’d be there too—filled him with so much joy that his heart could burst.

You beamed, and all Azriel wanted to do was to spin you around and never let you go. And so, he did, because nothing was stopping him. He was going to share a home with his love, and nothing had ever made him this happy before.

As he spun you around, you threw your head back and laughed joyfully, the sound echoing off the walls. Azriel’s laughter joined yours when he stilled, and then you were kissing him again.

After more than five hundred years, he finally knew where he belonged. And it wasn’t a place.

It was with you.

General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch

Azriel Week: @fourthwing4ever

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