#-spend all my time writing part twos to all those drabbles

[enhaheeseung]

BREAK UP - L. HEESEUNG

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader

Warnings: crying, break up, angst, cursing, heartbreak, arguments.

Word count: 2,072k

Note: I'm just writing a few drabbles for now, hoping to get my engagement up a bit. This is really rushed, so it’s not good, but oh well.

Part 2 Part 3

-

“Babe, when are you coming to bed?”

It’s twelve am, and you have been waiting hours past your bedtime so you can finally go to sleep with your boyfriend for the first time in literal months.

It’s been a while since he started working from home, and you thought that would free up some space for you both to spend time together.

You thought you guys could go back to normal like how you used to be but now it seemed like he worked even more after being able to work from home on top of his promotion.

You received no answer, and you sighed. This had been going on for months, him ignoring you and solely focusing on work. You disappointedly slipped under the covers so you could patiently wait for him to be finished.

Staring at the clock, you counted down every minute until a full thirty minutes passed.

You decided to give it another go thinking half hour may have been enough time for him to conclude his work. “Honey, it’s so late,” your voice is groggy, eyes half opened, and you’re still worried about your boyfriend’s well-being. How could you not be when he barely ate and barely slept anymore? The last time you two spent quality time together was so long ago you couldn’t even remember. “Please come to bed. I know you’re tired.”

He snaps at your words, only increasing the annoyance that he currently feels. “Can you just stop talking, damn?!” He agitatedly shouts out of nowhere, turning his head in your direction with an angry expression plastered on his tired features.

Startled by the sudden loudness of his tone you jumped a little bit not used to him speaking to you that way. “S-sorry I was just worried” you tucked back under the covers your heart aching in your chest cause of what he said to you.

He was always on edge lately, but you never received that type of treatment from him. Ever even in your five years of dating, he has always been respectful to you.

“You’re sorry?” he scoffs. “You should be sorry I’m the one working hard every day to provide for you and all the frivolous bullshit you buy, and this is the thanks I get. Do me a favor and stop fucking bothering me while I’m working,” he rubs his temples, turning his attention back to his computer.

It most certainly wasn’t the first time he’d said such harsh words to you after your constant nagging for him to eat and sleep more, but this was the first time you felt pure anger from him, and it worried you cause he was never this bad before and you feared that as time went on like this it would just get worse.

“O-okay.” You looked at his stressed back, noticing how tense his shoulders were, and you felt bad knowing he was taking on all of the work to provide for you both. Apparently, all you were doing was bothering him, but you weren’t doing it intentionally. “I guess it’s a crime to care about my boyfriend.” Your voice broke a little, and you turned your back to him, calling it quits for the night. He could come to bed whenever he wanted.

“You know what?” He shuts the computer and sighs. “I think.” he pauses for a moment, the silence getting the best of your nerves cause you were scared about what he was going to say. “We should just break up.”

His words dangle in the air for minutes, and within those minutes, you feel tears pricking your eyes and your heart breaking into little tiny bits. “Hee-“ you sat up now, looking at him with your bloodshot eyes.

“I know you’re going to run down every reason why we shouldn’t, but I’m done. I’m tired of this, and I’m tired of talking. I can’t do it anymore, and nothing you say can ever change my mind.”

You’re left absolutely speechless too stunned to even say anything not to say he would want to hear it or listen now anyway.

You’ve spent so many long years of your life with him that you couldn’t see yourself being with anyone else besides him you thought that he was your happy ever after and to hear him say he wants to break up felt like a dream a very bad dream never in your life did you ever think he’d say the words but he did and it came out so easily like he’s been wanting to say it but only now decided to.

And the thought made you upset because if he’s been feeling this way for this long why did he even bother to string you along knowing he didn’t see a future with you anymore after your guys relationship went downhill?

In the midst of your thoughts his voice brings you back to the present. “I’ll call your mom in the morning so you can get all your stuff and be out by tomorrow.” You don’t respond, and the only thing you hear for the next few hours is typing on a keyboard.

You would go to the sofa, but you’re literally glued to the bed, paralyzed by grief.

The tears wouldn’t stop flowing, and they definitely didn’t stop once he came to bed. If anything, they got worse when you felt his warmth so close to you but yet so far away.

He tried slipping his hand around your waist, but you slapped it away. “Don’t touch me,” you say through your heartbroken cries.

He immediately retracted his hand, a little surprised at first by how quickly you rejected his touch.

He didn’t care really he just thought it might comfort you a little so you could sleep since you’ve been up crying for literally hours but it didn’t matter one way or the other to him as he turned on his side and shut his lamp off.

Heeseung slept soundly while you lay awake, crying every last tear you had left in you.

-

When morning struck, heeseungs alarm woke him up. His eyes shot open, and he quickly grabbed his phone, turning the awful sound off.

He turned towards your side of the bed and patted the soft material in search of your warmth, but he found none.

His eyes opened, and he was met with a few luggage bags that looked to be packed already. He sat up confused for a moment until memories of last night flooded his mind.

He heard a rustle coming from the closet, and you appeared a second later, already fully dressed this early in the morning. Usually, you would still be asleep when he started work.

But obviously, today was different.

His eyes shifted throughout the room. Most of your stuff was already gone.

As you walked to each end of the room collecting your stuff, his eyes followed you, watching your every movement.

The moment he saw you grabbing all your ornaments, he felt an ache in his chest.

You didn’t have much in the bedroom, but those little ornaments had you written all over them, and it was one of the few things that made it obvious to him that he wasn’t living alone, and seeing them all getting wiped out made him feel sick to his stomach. “Y/n?” He mumbled out while nervously picking at his nails.

You didn’t answer. Of course, you didn’t. He said he was done talking, and so were you. Last night, you came to terms with this. It took hours, but you just accepted it.

You had to.

Were you going to miss him?

Yes.

Was it going to hurt?

Yes.

But you didn’t want to be in his life if he didn’t want you to be in his.

You continued to pick up the little porcelain cat decorations, and that’s when he decided to slip out from under the covers and walk over to you, standing behind you and taking the figurine from your hand, setting it back down where it had been sitting for the last couple of years. “I’m sorry,” he whispered in your ear while back hugging you, the warmth of his bare chest sending electricity throughout your body. “About last night, sweetheart, I was just tired and said a lot of things I didn’t mean, and I know that it sounds like a shitty excuse, but I really didn’t mean it, baby. I’ve just been so stressed lately, and I hate myself for taking it out on you. I’m so sorry I made you cry.” he closed his eyes, inhaling your scent, the one he’d been missing for months.

You hated yourself for the way you melted into his arms after all the things he said to you last night, but it’s just been so long since you felt his touch on you that you couldn’t help it.

You leaned into him, his body pressing flush against yours. It felt so good being in his strong arms again.

But as fast as you melted, you hardened up even quicker, slipping out of his grasp.

You started packing up your things again, keeping a good distance from him because right now you know you could easily forgive him, but you didn’t want to because there’s no way he could say what he said to you last night and change up so quickly in the morning you weren’t falling for it.

When you walked by him, he quickly extended his hand, grabbing you by your elbow, pulling you into his chest, and hugging you closely. “Little one, please forgive me.” he rested his chin atop your head, stroking your back softly. “I need you. Love, without you, I don’t have anything, you know that. Remember, I’ve told you so many times everything I do is all for you. I know I made a mistake, but I’m sorry. Please forgive me, please?” His voice shook slightly, and you could feel just how fast his heart was beating against your chest and the words were on the tip of your tongue, but for the way you feel right now, you think breaking up would just be for the best.

You two were living different lives, and the compatibility wasn’t aligned anymore. As much as you hated living a life without him, the thought of living a life where he was working and you were being neglected was something you hated even more.

Your breath got caught in your throat the moment his lips pressed against your neck. “Please,” he begged in between each soft kiss he left on your neck. “Say something, please,” he sniffles softly and rests his palms over your stomach.

You peeled his hand off your body, turning around to tell him that you were done straight to his face, but it was so hard cause he looked absolutely distraught. “Heeseung, I’m leaving, and that’s final.”

The sob he let out almost made you break down in tears yourself. He tried to cover it by cupping his mouth, but it was too late. It was one of the most heartbreaking things you’ve ever heard from him, and you had to leave now before you ended up forgiving him.

You quickly grabbed your things, wheeling them to the front door with him close behind you. “I can’t let you go, y/n. I-I love you.” his arms were secured around you again, and you stood there, trying to remain as emotionless as possible until he finally let go of you. “So that’s just it? What am I supposed to do without you, baby?” He asked warm tears running down his cheeks he looked so sad and vulnerable.

“You said you were tired of talking, and at this point, so am I. Goodbye, heeseung. I hope work treats you better than I ever could.” You unlocked the front door and opened it.

“Y/n-“

“Enough!” You shouted at him, losing your patience finally and letting all your months of pent-up anger get the best of you.

He stood there completely stunned by you raising your voice at him, and it left him speechless.

Even though his mouth was parted like he wanted to say something, the words just never made their way out.

The last thing you saw before slamming the door was his sad, tearful expression, but this was what he asked for, and he got it.

-

Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️

[writingmeraki]

be there when I wake up — k.mg drabble.

❝ in which you love mingyu in all states of your mind, whether sober or drunk out of your limit.

( or it seems even when you're drunk you don't recognise him but you still love him with your whole heart. )

pairing : secret agent! husband mingyu x secret agent! spouse reader. warnings : mentions of alcohol and being drunk, hangovers, reader almost has a breakdown (?). genre : fluff, romance. a/n : more of them, I can't get enough I have too much to write on them😔 let me know what you think of this 💌!! not proofread (this was very random pls I am absolutely NOT procrastinating my other wips, ignore errors pls it's lit 5am 😴 )

word count : 1.3k

part of this au !

It felt like you were on cloud nine, feet light as you walked and head filled with nothing.

Being drunk tends to do that to you at least.

Today, when Mingyu and you got your well deserved day off, he decided it was time for you to be the one to let yourself loose.

Not that he never did let you but usually you were the one who assigned yourself as the designated driver whenever it was just you two. Though being as thoughtful as he was, he made sure to never be too hectic for you to handle if he could do it himself.

And even then, he'd still do his best to stabilise himself albeit the attempts were always hilarious but the thought counted.

He held you tightly by your waist to his side, making sure you didn't fall or wander off somewhere because see while he was the type to be the clingy drunk, not leaving your side, you were the carefree one, wanting to fly away, perhaps even quite literally.

As your husband and more importantly lover, he did not want to entertain the idea of you hurting yourself by accident. Luckily, all the gym hours he’d spend building his muscles to impress his one and only lifetime crush (read:you) paid off, because you used him completely as a support to walk, leaning all your weight on him.

Your cheeks were warm, eyes half lidded, now the pain in your cheeks was prominent from smiling so much, it seemed you smiled more when drunk than sober in a few months. It wasn’t because you were emotionless but rather only smiled to those who deserve it, which was only a handful of people. Your husband is on the top of course.

Speaking of your husband, you suddenly paused in your steps, remembering him. Realising you were clinging onto someone, you pushed yourself away, smile dropping and being replaced by a frown while you glared.

Mingyu blinked once, twice, a little startled from being pushed away and even more when he saw your glare.

“You shouldn’t hold some stranger like that, mister.” You could make out the silhouette in front of you, but the face was a blur. The classic case of drunken forgetfulness.

“Babe-”

“BABE? Are you crazy? Only my husband can call me that! Which by the way.” You put out your left hand, pointing towards the shiny ring. The shiny ring he got you. “See!I’m married!”

“And-and I am very happy with my Gyu, I don’t need you- or or anyone courting me- I am very happy with my relationship sir.”

Fuck. Why did you have to say it like that?

He couldn’t stop the grin on his face, there was no way he could even if he tried to. Only you could make him feel like the first time he'd ever have a crush on someone. His heart raced, almost too fast. He swears he can feel his chest fill with even more love.

“Okay, okay how about I get you to your car?”

“No mister! I re-refuse I don't want to go with you, where's Mingyu? Where's Gyu???”

You were whining at this point, finding your legs too tired so you ended up just sitting. Right in the middle of the pavement.

Mingyu’s eyes widened when you sat down but even more in panic, the smile dropping as he saw you bring your hands to your face.

You were crying.

“Where's Gyu? Did he leave me?” A hiccup came after the sentence, as your vision got more blurry with the tears flowing even more freely.

He rushed towards you squatting beside you, pulling you into his side.

“Honey, I'm here. Shh. I'm here.”

You looked up from your position, making sure to blink to clear out the tears and there he was. Your husband.

“Gyuuu” Your words slurred and choked up as you threw yourself at him. Him immediately wrapping his hands around you, still in the sitting position.

Your arms looped yourself around his neck as you put your head in the crook of his neck, still crying.

“I thought you le-left.”

“I'd never. I would never leave you.”

“Please don't.”

Slowly, he got up, pulling you gently up as well, still holding onto you and your entire weight now leaned on him.

“Come on, you wanna head home?” You pulled your face away from the nook, looking up at him as your sobs stopped turning to sniffles.

He moved one hand to hold your face as he caressed your cheek, pushing your stray hair strands behind your ears with delicate touches.

Your eyes began to droop, the side effects of being drunk slowly overcoming you. You just simply nodded as you put your head back to his comfy shoulder.

Sighing, he shook his head as he noticed your breathing slowing down, coming out in slow exhales, meaning you just passed out drunk.

He softly smiled as his hand still caressed your hair. He wouldn't have it any other way.

[ bonus cut : the following morning ]

You were sure this was your karma catching up to you because the way your head was splitting was surely due to your supposed horrible past deeds. There was no other reason.

“Good morning sunshine~”

“Zip. Shut. Shh. Not a word.”

Mingyu frowned, pouting at your harsh reply, but a small pity formed as he saw you wake up while holding your head in pain.

“That's mean.”

“Not mean enough, I will actually kill you.”

Being the ever so doting husband he was, he'd gotten up from your shared bed, made breakfast, your favourite food by the way, and even gotten ready for the day.

“Have this, you'll feel better so that maybe you can plan my murder better hm?”

And now there he sat down beside you on your bed, a painkiller in one hand with a glass of water.

You grabbed the water like you had never touched it in your existence, gulping it down along with the pill,even if it ended up spilling onto your clothes. You frankly don't care.

Mingyu gazed at you with the same adoration he always had. He loved you at all times, anytime. He just knew that he loves you. He didn't think he said it enough.

“I love you.” You almost choked on the water, gulping it down before it sprayed out. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Can I not say I love you to my spouse?” He honestly felt offended at the suspicious look on your face.

“Alright…”

Now it was his turn to squint at you in question, as if waiting for something.

“I guess I love you too.” You were pulling his leg, you loved to see that look on his face where it seemed as though someone had stepped on his tail. Like a puppy who’s tail had been stepped on by mistake

“I don't even want to talk to you. Bye.” He snatched the empty glass, glaring at you now, you knew it was not with any sort of malice, you knew him. He turned around, purposefully stomping and then you couldn't stop the laughter.

You burst out in giggles, clutching your stomach, the headache subsiding.

You threw off the blanket and rushed after him, hugging him from behind, hands barely wrapping around his large frame but it did stop him. You placed your face sideways on his back.

“I'm kidding, I'm kidding, I love you. Like surely. One hundred percent.” You said still chuckling, the grin on your face not faltering.

He wasn't even upset in the first place, because the moment he heard your laugh, his own grin formed widely on his face.

“You mean it?”

“I do. Always did. And will.”

And perhaps this was what it meant to be loved. And to love.

for my dearest @etherealyoungk ; THIS IS A VERY VERY LATE BIRTHDAY GIFT TO MY WIFE 🫂 ( blame that on the fact that this was totally not what I planned to write for ur birthday 😔) I love you so much and I can't believe we got close this soon <3 I wish I could have known you before because it feels like I know you since so long, you're literally my soulmate like??? i hope you have an amazing year ahead soo here is ur fave couple as a present mwahh (mine too lowkey)

perm. taglist ( open ! ) : @mansaaay ; @gyuguys

( if you want to be added just send an ask/reply to this !)

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024

feedback is always appreciated 💌 !

links : main navi ! | svt masterlist ! | info !

[allfearstofallto]

Quality Time - head canon drabbles

Yandere! Forced Marriage x Fem! Reader

Ft: Scaramouche and Childe

How your yanderes spend time with you

Scaramouche

“Wrong again,” he muttered beneath his breath, and you felt yourself tense at his anger.

“I apologize, my lord,” you responded quickly. It was like second nature for you. He never truly accepted your apologies, but it made your punishments less harsh.

He insisted that once a week he'd spend time with you. Although, the time was never doing what you liked. He wanted you to learn more skills that would make you seem sophisticated, things he said were skills he learned himself. Tea ceremonies, kimono dressing, and his personal favorite, calligraphy.

Scaramouche would sit you in his lap, with a low table in front of you. You thought it was some sort of perverted ploy to touch you more, but he genuinely seemed more interested in the writing. Or interested in you learning to do it.

“Don't apologize, just do better,” he lifted your wrist that had the brush in it and pulled the sleeve of your kimono back, there was a little black ink on the expensive fabric. His fingers were cold, his grip not tight, but threatening, “I've told you, you must use your other hand to hold the sleeve, or it'll drag through the ink.” his eyebrows were furrowed together in frustration as he looked over the garment you'd practically ruined.

“Be glad I love you so much, or I'd keep you in solitary confinement for your repeated mistakes,” 

“Thank you, my lord.” 

He motioned for you to do it again and you mimicked his motions with your own hand and drew out a character on the parchment. It was borderline ineligible, but it was better than anything you'd done before. He hummed in agreement at your work, wrapping one his arms tighter around your waist.

His other hand reached up to gently pat your head. He called it praise, but you considered it condescending. Despite the fact that you hated it, he did it regardless, your opinions didn't seem to matter to him.

“You did good,” the brush was taken from your hand and he repeated the action, only this time it was more graceful and elegant, “it should look more like this though.”

He kept his hold on you as you continued to write characters for him deep into the night.

Childe

“My my, do those clothes truly suit you,” he could barely keep his hands off of you as the two of you trudged through the snow together.

You rarely went outside when staying in Snezhnaya, you rarely wanted to. But when you did, you were bundled up in thick, heavy garments to combat the cold. More than six layers at that. You wondered what part of you he thought looked good? There wasn't much of you to see anymore, the clothes had eaten you whole.

Childe insisted on taking you hunting with him. You politely declined, but once again, he insisted, and that was just him being polite. What he was really saying was, “Put your boots on, you're coming out with me.”

You were handed your gun, nearly dropping it from the surprise that he was just handing it to you. Amongst all the talking about how to spy tracks and what to do when you had an animal in your sights, the fact that he'd given you a gun never came up. You'd never held one before and also, Childe was your captor. Was he crazy? Stupid? Bulletproof? All of those things sounded plausible.

He walked in front of you as you fell behind. He was more used to this type of thing, snow up to your knees, but you were struggling. Where you were from, it didn't even get cold.

The gun felt heavy in your hands. You wanted to hold it away from your body, but you also wanted to keep it close to you. Childe was just there, walking and talking without a care in the world. And you were behind him. His guard was down, his guard always seemed to be down around you. You could just do it, couldn't you.

You raised the rifle up and held your breath. One thing he actually said and you listened to, was that you needed to be stable when you were shooting. You needed to be firm. Your heart was pumping in your chest, but you didn't let your hands shake. You didn't want to mess this up.

“There are pellets in your gun,” he'd stopped in his tracks, not even trying to look at you while he spoke, “and those definitely do not work on me.”

[monzabee]

hot girls support 44 – lh44

masterlist

Summary: The one where your husband realises that you are, indeed, his number one fan.

Pairing: lewis hamiton x wife!reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: cursing? (i’m not even sure), and a whole lot of fluff

Request: “Hi can you do we’re Lewis Hamilton wife is with him to see one of his races but she leaves the garage for some reason and over hears someone talking bad about her husband and she snaps and tells them straight and Lewis is watching her from a distance like damn that’s my wife”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i don’t know if this classifies as a drabble but let’s just pretend it does because i realised that i can’t write anything under 1k? this was a very fun request to work on, so thank you to anon, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Both you and Lewis are private people when it came to your relationship. It has always been that way, with him leading a lifestyle in front of the cameras, and you preferring to stay away from those said cameras as much as you can. Over time, you both developed a rhythm, a delicate balance between Lewis's public persona and your desire for privacy. It was an unspoken agreement, an understanding that you valued above all else.. You knew how much Lewis's racing career meant to him, and you admired his ability to excel under the constant scrutiny. And in return, Lewis respected your wish for a quieter, more intimate life together. It was this mutual respect that solidified the foundation of your relationship, allowing it to thrive despite the challenges that fame and attention often brought.

That is not to say that you guys were completely private, of course. You’ve had your fair share of events the two of you attended as a couple, as well as races, but Lewis is always mindful of the fact that you don’t want cameras in your faces. In the early days of your relationship, the media had tried to capture glimpses of your relationship, eager to uncover every detail and learn more about the woman who finally made him give up his bachelor status. However, Lewis, being the fiercely protective partner that he was, had firmly set boundaries to shield your personal life from the prying eyes of the world. He cherished the sanctity of your bond and understood the importance of keeping certain moments sacred and away from the public eye.

The two of you have a special routine for the race days where you decide to join him on the track – you mainly spend your time inside the Mercedes garage, instead of lingering around where the cameras are most likely to be. However, you make sure to leave the garage for celebrations for those races where Lewis is up on the podium, celebrating him with the people who support him every step along the way whom he appreciates immensely; while the podium celebrations were reserved for the public eye, the garage held its own intimate victories. It was here that you celebrated the milestones and shared the unspoken triumphs, basking in the knowledge that your presence was an unwavering pillar of support for Lewis. But for the most part, you’re happy with your routine – it’s safe, familiar and it has worked for a very long time. So you don’t really know why you decided to take Roscoe on an impromptu tour of the paddock, especially when he gives you that look which clearly says that he would rather be taking his afternoon nap.

It's a good day despite the chaos everyone on the paddock seems to be in, but then again, there’s only a few hours until the qualifying session. So, in hopes of avoiding the human traffic, you decide to take Roscoe to a more secluded area in the back. As you walk, Roscoe happily wagging his tail by your side, you take in the sights and sounds of the paddock. The familiar smell of rubber and gasoline fills the air, mingling with the excited murmurs of fans and the distant roar of engines. It's a world you've come to know and appreciate, even if from a slightly different perspective. Lost in your thoughts, you suddenly hear voices growing louder as you approach a group of people gathered in conversation. Curiosity gets the better of you, and you slow your pace, intending to discreetly eavesdrop before continuing on your way. But as you get closer, you realize the topic of their conversation hits closer to home than you expected.

In hindsight, you know better to get involved in situations which might cause you to bother yourself with rude, petty people, but when it concerns your husband and everything that he has worked hard his entire life for, you don’t even hesitate. With the fierce protectiveness you feel inside, you clear your throat to get the attention of the engineers, “Excuse me,” you say as you give them a (fake) smile, “could you repeat that again, please?”

The group falls silent, their faces registering surprise and perhaps a touch of embarrassment. They exchange glances, seemingly unsure of how to respond to your unexpected intrusion. “We just meant that–” The man is quickly silenced by one of his friends elbowing him in the side.

You ignore the silent ow that comes from the man’s mouth and give the trio a stare down. “Well, I guess everybody is entitled to their opinions.” Your sweet smile and dulcet tone is enough to think them that everything is fine, but you’re quick to continue voicing your thoughts, “But that doesn’t give you the right to undermine a man’s hard work, especially when he has broken record after record and don’t even get me started on the fact that not only he is a pioneer in this sport, he is also a role model and inspiration to many and has impact beyond the track.” You let a frustrated hum, “Also, have some respect, the guy is an eight-time world champion.”

The guy who spoke before looks confused as he attempts to point out, “He won it seven–”

“Do you want me to let Roscoe attack you?” You ask as you point to the puppy sitting next to you, who, in hearing his name, looks up at you; all panting and happily sticking his tongue out.

Little do you know, Lewis had been watching the entire scene unfold from a distance, a mix of admiration and adoration in his eyes. He waits until the engineers leave in a hurry, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed on his chest. A smile tugs at the corners of Lewis's lips as he watches you handle the situation with such grace and confidence. As you turn around, ready to head back to the safety of the Mercedes garage, your eyes meet his, and a surge of warmth fills your heart. Walking towards you, Lewis closes the distance between you, his steps purposeful and full of pride. His arms quickly find their place on your waist as he mumbles, “Damn, that’s my wife.”

You roll your eyes at his antics, your face quickly mirroring the smile he gives to you. “Didn’t you see the sign? Apparently, ‘hot girls support 44’.”

“Is that so?” He hums, letting his hands wonder towards the back pockets of your jeans as he continuously presses kisses along your jaw, “It’s definitely right.”

As Lewis's lips trail along your jawline, sending shivers down your spine, you playfully swat at his chest. "Behave, Mr. World Champion. We're in a public place," you whisper, trying to suppress the laughter bubbling up inside you.

Lewis chuckles softly, his eyes sparkling with love and mischief. "Can't help it, love. Seeing you stand up for me like that, it's a turn-on," he teases, his voice laced with admiration. "But you're right, let's save the public displays of affection for later."

With a shared understanding and a silent promise, you and Lewis turn, making your way back to the familiar comfort of the Mercedes garage. In each other's presence, you find solace and strength, ready to face whatever lies ahead. And as Roscoe happily trots beside you, you can't help but feel grateful for the extraordinary life you share with the man who has captured your heart, both on and off the track.

[aemndx]

I love the way you write possessive Aemond in your work. I love the idea of a possessive slightly unhinged Aemond wanting something/someone for himself. Especially because he’s is intelligent and cunning enough to do low key wild and manipulative things to make sure he gets to be with the person he wants. I’m so excited when I saw you tagged possessive Aemond in the last few writings you posted

— 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘.

gif credit.

© aemvnd 2022. do not plagiarize, translate, modify or post my content on any other platform.

author’s note: …here we fucking go again. yea, i’m writing a lil drabble about my slut of a husband, aemond. do i regret it? no. i hope you enjoy & please reblog, comment + leave ur feedback..! it really helps me stay motivated to keep writing. thank you, babes. ♡

warnings: minors dni. light smut. dark themes. fingering. kissing. female pronouns. possessive behavior. pet names. romance. fluff. any grammatical errors are my own -- in advance, i sincerely apologize.

word count: 790.

pairings: aemond targaryen x reader (f).

♡࿐ aemond targaryen has always thought of you as his.

his to protect, his to care for, his to love. ever since he met you, he surrounded himself around you, keeping you close by his side and never letting you out of his sight – unless absolutely necessary, and one of his most trusted guards had to be with you at all times.

even then, aemond would be on edge, not trusting anyone else to protect you like he could.

you thought he was charming.

aemond would look at you like you’re the center of the universe, like you held all of the stars.

aemond thinks it’s cute when you learn something new in philosophy, excitedly wanting to share the new information with him – even if he already knows it.

on lazy days, the prince will sit with you in his lap, one arm wrapped around your waist protectively–(while his other arm would be underneath the skirt of your dress, softly caressing the naked part of your smooth inner thighs with the tips of his fingers, teasingly)–and listen intently while you try and explain what you’ve just learned to him.

nonchalantly, he’d nod along, though would be just as focused on your plush lips moving as well as the words pouring out of them.

although, halfway through explaining, you’d turn around in his lap and claim his mouth against yours hungrily, while his fingers would slowly fuck your dripping cunt in the secluded library, not stopping until you’d come harshly on his lap.

there would be times where aemond would sneak into your chambers to spend time with you, specifically at the late hours of the night, wanting to be as close as physically possible to you. he loves you so much, he doesn’t ever want you to doubt his love for you.

during those private evenings, aemond would claim you as his – multiple times until you were a shaking, sobbing mess beneath him, in his arms.

he’d leave all sorts of love marks behind, kissing every inch of your skin he could reach, before thrusting his long, thick cock into your sweet cunt with both of your moans echoing off the walls.

you’d be terrified of somebody finding out about you two, but aemond would always reassure you – whispering sweet praises in your ear, calming you by kissing your neck and jaw as you’d let out the most irresistible moans for him as he continued fucking into you, uncaring of who heard you both.

…besides, if someone did manage to find out about the two of you, he’d kill them without a seconds notice.

aemond is very possessive over you, to the point that some of the lords and ladies started to take notice, though aemond paid them little attention.

some days, when the weather was warm and the sun was shining, aemond would bring you on long walks through the gardens, just the two of you.

there was a secret hidden place, surrounded by various trees and gorgeous flowers, and aemond would press your back up against one of the many thick trees, kissing you so passionately that you’d see stars.

“marry me,” aemond begged, trailing open-mouthed kisses along your sensitive neck, causing a whimper to escape your pretty lips, your breathing coming out in short, little gasps.

“mmm.. no,” you drawled, though your tone is teasing. “my father is suspicious of all the rumors about us, but he doesn’t ask. i feel like maybe he’s afraid of you,” you giggled, batting your eyelashes up at the handsome prince.

the prince smiles, pleased.

“besides,” you continued, your voice saddened and your heart breaking into a million little pieces. “my father.. he will arrange a marriage for me someday and i must–“

“that'll never happen,” aemond cuts you off, confidently. “if your father tries to take you away from me, he’ll suffer a horribly painful death.”

your heart flutters, your cheeks heating up and your head beginning to feel faint. “you're so sweet.” you whisper, smiling.

“only for you, my sweet girl.” the prince says, tenderly brushing his knuckles along your cheekbone, before bending down and capturing your lips in his once more – he tastes of honey and strawberries.

you moan, high pitched and so needy for him.

gods, he loved you.

aemond grinned, continuing his assault downwards your delicate neck. “marry me,” he asked once again, sounding impatient. you wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him sweetly on his chin, making him squeeze your waist in equal affection.

“be my wife,” he says, tone commanding and sweet as sugar and death.

you sighed, pulling back just slightly so that your lips brushed softly over his, “i’d love nothing more.”

fin

feel free to send in requests / thots here.

[moonferry]

what type of movies the sdv marriage candidates would watch:

so this is just for funsies, but i decided to brainstorm what types of movies/shows all 12 marriage candidates would watch. there will be a mini-drabble assigned to each one, as a treat. sorry i got a little carried away with some of these. i hope you guys enjoy <3

bachelors:

harvey: he loves romcoms. there is literally no denying it.

i picture him on the farmhouse couch, wrapped in his favorite blanket with a mountain of tissues next to him. you walk in and take "your spot" next to him (which is basically as close to him as humanly possible, your head resting on his shoulder). he leans into your body to acknowledge you're there, but he's too invested in his movie. DEFINITELY a movie crier. "why can't she see that he's the perfect guy for her!!!" absolutely inconsolable during the parts where the love interests are fighting, but then when they finally get together he's like "i knew it!!!" harvey would have a variety of snacks, though most of them are things like apple slices with peanut butter and some assorted nuts. happy to share his opinions about the movie and even ask your input on the love interest(s). for example, if the main love interest has a current partner who is definitely not right for them, he'd be like, "so, you see that persons TOTALLY the wrong one for them, right?" he'd also "take notes" and use what hes learned from these movies to plan romantic dates for the two of you.

elliott: let's all be honest here. he also loves romcoms.

he and harvey have a "book-club" style meeting where they watch a movie and discuss it over tea/coffee. of course, he'd invite you, too. being the romantic - and writer - he is, he spends the entire movie critiquing things and going "oh, well, if i wrote it i'd do it this way-" you love him, even if he does talk over the movie. i also think he'd be the one to bring the most AMAZING array of snacks to a movie night - like full on 3 course meal with dessert. a bit overkill, but what else would you expect? elliott probably gets too invested in the storylines and - if its an ending he doesnt like - will write his "own version" with tweaks. yes, elliott is a part of fandom, sue me! he'd definitely show you the finished script and ask for your input. who knows? maybe elliott will direct his own movie one day - with you as the star, of course.

alex: if you guessed sports movies and gridball games... you'd be completely wrong. i think alex enjoys animated movies - it doesn't really matter the genre. alternatively, i also think he would enjoy westerns.

here me out: everyone always assumes he's like.. sport obsessed, and he is, but thats SOOO boring. i think he does enjoy watching sports, yes, but his favorite movie type is animated. im talking studio ghibli animation. he loves howl's moving castle and makes you watch it with him several times a week. honestly, you aren't entirely sure he doesn't have a crush on christian bale, but like, who could blame him? now for the westerns. from my own personal experience of visiting my grandparents, they watch westerns exclusively. i think living with george and evelyn would have introduced him to the western cowboy film genre and he would have instantly loved it. it's mainly a nostalgia thing - when alex was younger, he'd always sit on george's lap and watch the western movies with his grandfather. evelyn would be making cookies in the kitchen and then bring kid alex a heaping portion. whenever he watches a western now, he feels warm and safe. it reminds him of his childhood. of home.

shane: action comedy

i don't really think this would needs much explanation.. shane just enjoys a good action comedy movie. i think he'd laugh way too loudly. personally, i think he enjoys animated action comedies much more than live action ones (though he'll still watch those). i think his favorite would be kung fu panda, just because he sees himself as po in a way. i think he would supply ample snacks - though most so unhealthy and sugary that they'll make your teeth fall out. he's definitely the type to fall asleep during a movie, cheesy dust coating his fingers and his hands still in the bowl you two were sharing. you just shake your head and place a blanket over him. maybe you even fall asleep, too. that's all fun and games until you somehow knock the bowl off in your sleep and cheese balls spill all over your carpet flooring. oops. it's okay tho! 5 second rule. i also think shane is the type to walk into a room where a movie is playing while he was doing something (ie bringing you something, cleaning, etc), stand at the edge of the room with his arms crossed like he's "not interested", and spend 20 minutes watching before finally sitting down next to you.

sam: thriller movies

oh, sam. sammy sam samson. he's another tough one. theres so many good genres that i think he'd like, so hes sort of a chameleon. he's open to watch any and everything, but he LOVES thriller movies. more specifically, dystopian future thriller movies. he loves anything that's exciting. sorry sam fans, but i think he'd be the type to watch movies EXCLUSIVELY on his busted android phone. he'd also laugh loudly at parts and rewind to show you, but it's not like you can see through all the cracks so you're just like "oh, that's hilarious". sam loves sending you youtube compilations of "funny movie clips" and will be like "yoo, did you see that clip i sent you?" even though sam will watch anything, i think he absolutely despises war movies. even though he knows its just a movie, he can't help himself from imagining his father in that situation. war movies are a definite DO NOT WATCH for him. i think he would buy an entire large pizza for the two of you to share but.. im sorry, but you do NOT get any pizza. boy just eats the whole thing in 2 bites.

sebastian: historical movies

controversial, i know. but i feel like sebastian would love historical movies. growing up with demetrius as a step-father, sebastian always loved learning new things. historical movies allow him to continue to learn new things. now, i don't mean that he loves documentaries, i mean he loves historical FICTION movies. specifically, pirate movies. sebastian definitely is a laptop-only movie watcher. it doesn't matter if the tv is three feet from him, he will not watch something unless its on his laptop. i imagine him sitting on your shared bed, leaning back against the headboard with the laptop on his legs. he'd absolutely lose his mind if you joined him - even letting you hold the laptop, if you want. i think he would melt if you laid your head down on his chest and asked him questions about what he was watching - which he'd be happy to answer. he would definitely start playing with your hair if he seemed to be getting bored of his movie, or maybe he'd just do it without realizing.

bachelorettes:

emily: musicals!!

again, no real explanation needed. girlie loves to sing along - maybe even dance along - to the musical numbers. i think she is a musical theatre fanatic, though she really loves movie musicals. because broadway tickets are like so expensive, she prefers to stay home and watch them with you. she knows all the lyrics and has definitely watched them multiple times. during her favorite numbers, she'd pull you up from the couch and convince you to dance with her. you'd be having the time of your life - even if you didn't really know the lyrics. if you did, the two of you would be singing (well, screaming, really) along to every word.

leah: this one was a bit tough, but i think leah would like fantasy movies.

i really think she would enjoy the movie scenery more than the actual plot, though. like the beauty of the nature, you know? you two would be watching a movie where someone is going on a big, exciting quest and leah would be like "oh, gosh, look at those trees. the coloring is just spectacular." you don't mind, though, because she's right: these fantasy worlds always look so breath-takingly beautiful and it's hard not be captivated by them. i think she'd prefer the artistic aspect to the movies, especially if it's an animated fantasy movie. if it was animated, she'd be absolutely speechless and just in awe of how the animators drew something/someone. what she doesn't realize, though, is that you're looking at her the way she looks at the movie. she just looks so breath-taking and you can't help but smile every time she makes a comment about it. "this movie is so gorgeous" and you would think "but not as gorgeous as you."

maru: mysteries!!!

specifically murder mysteries or whodunit's. while she does love scientific documentaries as well, she also enjoys a good mystery movie. and when she watches them, she gets INVESTED. im talking making her own predictions and even asking you who you think the killer is. of course, she's always right. maybe she has some sort of "detective intuition"? you think it's adorable how she clings to your arm and rambles about her guesses. "how could you think it was THAT person? it's obviously this one!" can and will provide evidence on how she's right. makes you think and really dive deep into the movies. it's fun to watch them with her because it lets you view things in a different light than normal.

abigail: i think abby loves comedies.

yeah, everyone thinks she would like horror movies - and she does - but her favorite? comedies all the way. she loves a good laugh. the two of you have a movie theater date, making sure to get the extra large popcorn to share (but you wouldn't be mad if abby ate it all, since she usually does. but she looks cute with her face full of popcorn.) she laughs super loud and everyone else in the theater is .. glaring at you two. i think she would also have "full body" laugh reactions like she would smack the seat, smack her legs, just anything. she's having a good time tho. by the end of the date she is completely covered in popcorn (yes, it even managed to get in her hair, somehow) and you spend a few minutes picking each piece out.

haley: honestly? i think she enjoys horror movies. not because she's overly interested in the horror aspect, but because it gets her closer to you.

she would invite you over for a movie. of course, she would probably be scared out of her mind (or not, depending on the severity of the movie). regardless of if she was actually scared or not, i think she'd still find a reason to cuddle up next to you "for comfort" or "because she was scared". you don't mind, though, and you're happy to have her feel safe in your arms. eventually, she'd just stop trying to watch the movie all together and just cuddle up next to you.

penny: i think she would like dramas or melodramas.

penny, being calm and quiet herself, probably likes these genres of movies because she doesn't express very strong emotions herself. not that she doesn't feel them, she does!, she's just very soft spoken and doesn't like to speak her mind for fear of upsetting someone. when she watches these movies, she can relate to the characters and their experiences. it makes her feel.. calmer? in a way. i think she is the type to watch movies while in pajamas, probably before bed or at a sleep over type setting. she will defend her movie choices (not that you'd insult them, anyway). i also think she would be the type to bring "easy" snacks - peanuts and saltine crackers are her best friends. penny seems like the type to have a movie on in the background while doing something else (cleaning, trying new recipes, etc). if you two had a sleepover, she would definitely try to get you interested in her movie choice and list any possible actors you may know. even if it wasn't really "your thing", you'd still watch the movie because it makes penny happy.

[eoieopda]

interlude: sundown (myg)

pairing: min yoongi x reader summary: as it turns out, your boyfriend can take as much as he gives. au: darksided (masterlist), established relationship type: drabble | smut + fluff word count: 1.9k rating: 18+ cw: pov switch, min yoongi gets pegged 🙌🏻, afab!reader, needy & subby yoongi, v soft dom!reader, praise kink unlocked!!, anal fingering, sex w/ strap on, k*ss*ng (eek!) a/n 1: you thought i’d get through a(u)gust without a yoongi fic? pleaaaaase. this is part of the darksided series, so i recommend checking out the other installments first, just so you have all the context. this can be read as a stand-alone drabble, though! this one takes place after blindsided, btw. a/n 2: i don’t spend much time talkin’ ‘bout prep due to the word limit, but it is both implied & v important. be safe! 🔞 MINORS WHO INTERACT WITH ME AND/OR MY CONTENT WILL BE BLOCKED, WHETHER OR NOT THE CONTENT IS NSFW. I’M AN ADULT WRITING EXCLUSIVELY FOR OTHER ADULTS.

You can’t say what came over you. It wasn’t a conscious decision, you know that much. The only explanation you can fall back on is that the feral part of your brain simply took over, and your inner construction worker popped out to say hello — but that’s not entirely accurate.

In reality, it was less of a greeting and more of a “Damn, baby! That ass.”

Mere meters away, your boyfriend is bent over the bookshelf he’s been working hard to assemble — a task you were politely banished from executing, not thirty minutes ago. When he finally registers what you just blurted out, he stands back up to his full height and glances over his shoulder at you. His expression lands somewhere between bewildered and tickled fucking pink.

“Did you just catcall me?”

“I — I think…” You’re more shocked than he is, it seems. Blinking slowly doesn’t help you process your actions any quicker, so you give up and grimace through your admission. “I might have?”

Of the two of you, it’s Yoongi that truly has all the audacity in the world. After setting his screwdriver down onto the coffee table, he crosses his arms loosely over his chest and bites back a smug grin.

“You think you know a person after seven entire years of dating,” he tuts. “Then, they turn around and harass you — in your own home, no less.” Sucking a breath in through his teeth, he shakes his head and sighs, “Life comes at you fast.”

For a second, all you can do is stare at him with your incredulous mouth halfway open. It’s the most that anyone should expect from you at a time like this, when he’s looking at you like that — characteristically semi-flustered, and still so unshakably self-assured. With narrowed eyes, you opt to hone in on the former.

“You’re out here smuggling cake in broad daylight — looking downright bite-worthy —”

Peeling yourself off the couch, you cross over to him with your hands raised defensively. When you reach him, you plant those same hands on your hips and heave an exasperated sigh.

“What was I supposed to do? Pretend otherwise?”

Yoongi arches an eyebrow but says nothing, simply aiming his flat-lined smile your way. All it takes is your slow, expectant blinking for him to take the hint. Just like that, you fall into a well-practiced routine: him opening up to pull you into his chest, you lacing your arms around his waist, his chin resting gently against the top of your head.

And even though you haven’t left the house all day, this is the first moment that truly feels like home. It’s quiet, it’s calm, it’s —

“Bite-worthy, huh?” 

You can’t see his smirk, but you can hear it. 

“Surely, this is not the first time this is being brought to your attention.”

“It’s not,” Yoongi concedes. His low chuckle tickles every vertebrae on its way down your spine. The tingling only intensifies when he presses a kiss to the top of your head and murmurs, “I just haven’t heard it from you before. You’re behind the curve, so to speak.”

You pause for two reasons: the subtle genius of his phrasing and the new bit of trivia he seems to be alluding to. Is he — ?

“You’ve pegged?” You ask, glancing curiously up at him. 

The answer wouldn’t surprise you one way or another. More than anything, you’re impressed that the two of you still find things to learn about each other. That you can spend the better part of a decade with someone, side-by-side, and never run out of new conversations to have.

When he tilts his chin to look down at you, his expression is a perfect mirror of yours.

“You haven’t?”

Yoongi’s head crashes back against the pillows before his sigh can slip fully from his mouth. The impact seems to knock it loose; it floats away, above your bowed head. The sound gets lost somewhere underneath that of your open-mouthed kisses trailing so fucking softly across the bare skin of his chest. 

If his heart stops with every flick of your tongue over one of his nipples, you resuscitate him just as quickly with praise.

Apparently, being told he’s beautiful has the same physiological effect on him as a shot of epinephrine.

“Oh, fuck,” Yoongi groans from deep in his chest when your mouth ventures far enough to kiss the tip of his cock. That action is fairly chaste, all things considered, but the way his pre-cum shines like gloss on your lips is beyond obscene. 

You smile with your eyes alone as you take him into your mouth — and you think he’s beautiful? 

He can’t think of a single prettier sight than you and your fluttering lashes, looking up at him like he’s the one that hung the stars in the sky. Ridiculous. It’s him that frays a little further at the edges with every glance down at you.

Pulling away with a lewd pop, you murmur, “You can be more vocal than that, can’t you, baby?”

Oh, god. 

The smile tugging at your mouth makes his heart leap and his cock twitch. Untouched, it jumps and re-settles against his abdomen.

“Yes.” He fires off his response like a bullet at point-blank range, and you chuckle quietly at his eagerness. Breathless already, he amends, “Fuck yes.”

One eyebrow arches just enough to indicate that you expect a more detailed response. He should know better by now, shouldn’t he? He’s teased you this way a thousand times before, and it’s about time that he tastes his own medicine. Acknowledging that fact, he stoops to begging.

“Please. I want you to fuck me open with your fingers.”

Nodding appreciatively, you trace your finger along the underside of his shaft and leave him on the brink of losing his goddamn mind. He’d gladly let you drive him insane this way, but you take that hand away and gesture for him to turn over. As you do, you hum, “And I want to see you on your knees, love.”

Yoongi takes your instructions and runs with them, barely careful enough to avoid knocking you backwards off the bed in the process. He settles on his knees, then looks back over his shoulder just in time to watch you pop the cap off the bottle of lube.

You look nervous, though you try to hide it. He’s no stranger to that worried crease between your eyebrows; and he can’t help the downward curve of his mouth when he sees it.

There’s never been — and will never be — a person he trusts more than you. Careful, perfect, sweet. You couldn’t hurt him even if you tried, and he knows without question that you never would. You, however, seem less sure of that.

Yoongi has to twist back around to do it, but he cradles your jaw in his hands and kisses you deep, with everything he has. 

“I love you,” he whispers before pressing his lips to yours a second time. It carries more meaning than that; he suspects you hear each one.

I trust you.

It’s okay.

Already reassured, you whisper back to him with darkening eyes, “Elbows on the mattress, then, Min Yoongi.”

To say that he collapses against the comforter would be an understatement. He’s certifiably boneless the second your fingertips trace down the length of his spine, though his hunger for your touch starts him shivering.

“Relax, sweet thing,” you tell him. To encourage him, you lean forward and press your lips to the small of his back; instantly, you soothe the tension his body holds as if you’ve flipped a switch. It’s automatic, just like the low groan he emits when you murmur, “Good boy.”

The quiet that follows is ultimately interrupted by the faint slosh of liquid. He has to beg himself not to clench at the mere thought of your slicked fingers, so he instead lets his mouth fall open when he feels them glide over his rim. Needier than he’s ever been in his whole fucking life, Yoongi whimpers. 

It’s a pathetic little sound, but he doesn’t dare to try and swallow it down. He’ll give you everything; every pleading sigh and shuddered moan, all of it.

And — as a courtesy — he’ll refrain from calling you a liar because there is no fucking way that you haven’t done this before.

It’s simply unbelievable with how expertly you navigate the intricacies of his body, applying perfect pressure where he craves it. With the way you translate his incoherent whining to a plea for more, giving him exactly what he wants.

Two fingers deep, you tease, “So greedy, aren’t you baby?” 

But there’s no harshness to your tone, so soft around the edges. In fact, your little snicker suggests that you’re impressed. It takes all he has not to cum at the sound alone.

“Just for you — ” He responds through gritted teeth, blissed-out eyes squeezing shut. “— F-fuck. I can’t get enough of you.”

When you slip away from him, he proves your point, whining petulantly. You soothe him with an affectionate squeeze to his ass cheek, chuckling all the while. “Should we fix that, then?”

Yoongi has no idea what words he slurs in an attempt to answer that question, but he hopes he tells you how badly he craves your cock. He must, he figures, because he hears the telltale glide of the nightstand’s top drawer when you pull it open.

His head lifts from the blankets below to catch a glimpse of you settling the harness over your hips. For a moment, he forgets when, where, and who he is. The only reality he can currently comprehend is the one in which you’re running your fist down black silicone as if it’s a part of you, spreading slick from a bottle. 

But then you disappear from his line of sight, leaving him disoriented. He misses you already.

“I wish you could see how pretty you look on your knees.”

The mattress dips under your weight, signaling to him that you’ve settled behind him once again. You tap the length of the dildo against his skin, prompting him to groan. Still teasing, you ask, “Gonna fuck yourself on my cock, angel?”

Shit, shit, shit. 

Yoongi feels the tip hovering near his hole and he can’t keep his racing heart in check, so desperate that he’s practically vibrating. Your next words pull him further apart; they sound especially filthy in your light, almost reverent tone.

“Show me how well you can take me.”

He plans to do just that.

Slowly pushing back against you, Yoongi sinks down your length until that indescribable fullness leaves him starry-eyed and keening. After a few measured breaths, the ache subsides and gives way to pure pleasure.

Your praise is gentle, though the effect it has on him is earth-shattering. “Just like that, baby. You’re being so good for me.”

Withdrawing, he leans forward onto his elbows just to repeat the motion, losing himself more and more with every pass.

“Shit,” he hiccups, head drooping so that his forehead meets his forearms.

He only grows more eager when your hands claim his hips. You guide his body back to yours every time he leaves; whispering little wishes that he fuck himself the way you swear he deserves. 

You must hear his ragged breaths over the clap of his skin against yours and sense that he’s close because you hum, “Sweet thing. Are you going to make yourself cum?”

Yoongi shakes his head fervently, although not for the reason you might think.

“Want you to,” he begs on an exhale. “Please, make me cum. N-need you deeper.” 

Small hands flatten against his shoulder blades and press him further down against the bed. With fists full of the sheets, Yoongi gives you a desperate nod, signaling you to take over. 

And you do — without the hesitation he saw in you earlier, proving for the millionth time that you know exactly how to make him fall apart.

And he does — with a cry, so delirious and fucked out that he goes boneless underneath you.

When his body eventually stops trembling, Yoongi feels you pull out of him. He hears the quiet click as you unfasten the harness. Shortly after, his senses are overwhelmed with the warmth of your body coming down gently to cover his, warding off the emptiness that started to settle in your absence.

“You’re perfect.” You mumble with lips pressed to his sweat-slicked neck. “So fucking perfect.”

Funnily enough, he was just thinking the same thing about you.

likes are always appreciated, but it's feedback that means the most — whether that's in a comment below, PM, reblog, tags, etc. tysm for reading ✨

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[pagetsgirl]

tutoring

contains smut!! mdni

warnings: smut, giving head, fucking your professor, office sex, shitty writing ngl

pairing: alex blake x f!reader (professor x student dynamic)

summary: Alex Blake's star student needs some tutoring, which turns rather spicy

a/n: dont be afraid to reach out to me if you have any prompt/drabble suggestions, but i’m not sure when i’ll get to them since im really busy with school

read on ao3 or below the cut

For the entire year you’ve been nothing but the most perfect student. You got full marks, was never late, always turned assignments in on time, and you were actually nice to anyone who sat around you in class.

So it came to you as a surprise, when in your second year, your linguistics professor, dr. Alex Blake, told you that you might need some tutoring, so you could get ahead of everyone else in class. You had her last year as well, and to say you had a crush on her was an mild understatement. So to spend more one-on-one time with her… it was an offer too good to say no to.

It quickly became your favourite part of the week. Every Friday evening at 6:50pm, just after your last class, walking towards her office so you’d be there 7:00pm, and then leave with pain in your heart at 8:30pm, while every bone in your body was shouting at you to chat with her for just a little longer. Your ears dying to hear her voice just one more time before going to bed, your eyes wanting to look at her once more, your hands wanting to roam over her body, discovering every curve and freckle on her delicate skin.

This Friday was no different. Almost speeding down the corridors so you could get to her office a little early, so that you two could catch up just a little more before starting the tutoring.

Arriving there at 6:55, which is a record, you knocked at her door, waiting for her approval of coming inside.

“It’s open!” Her slightly raspy voice sounded muffled from where you were standing. But even that could make your knees weak. The things she would whisper in almost the same tone, just a tat more sulkier, as her hands roamed over your body, her strap made hard thrusts into your-

“Are you coming inside or not?” A voice shook you out of your daydream, as Alex Blake stood there in her doorframe, looking down at you.

“Oh yeah, uhm of course,” You franticly speak out, putting your entire linguistics education to shame.

You followed her inside, your eyes focused on her ass, I mean her walls filled with interesting books you couldn’t wait to dive into (same goes for her ass, but that’s just a tat… inappropriate).

The rest of the lesson went smoothly, as you put your feelings on the side line, and fully focussed on the things she was explaining to you.

The last couple of minutes you get a little side tracked, now talking about your hobbies, as her hand brushed past hers as you were explaining how sharks can’t get cavities and some sharks can glow in the dark.

When it finally gets to the time where you should leave, she walks you to the door. As you turn your back towards her, you hear her say; “You think I didn’t notice you staring at my ass and boobs all semester?”

Your face turns a bright red, as you slowly turn around. “Fuck,” You mutter under your breath. She walks closer, and closer to you, her hands eventually landing on her hips.

She looked down at you, her eyes filled with something that almost looked like… lust?

“Professor,” You mutter out, your hands still awkwardly on your sides. “Tell me you don’t want this, baby,” She whispers, her hot breath brushing over your ear as she moves closer to you.

“Please, I want this,” You whisper out, your voice raspy from desperation.

“Good, then it’s Alex or mommy for you, pretty girl,”

Just as those words left her lips, she pushed them on yours, absolutely taking your breath away. It was soft, but she was also so dominating. It was everything you’ve ever dreamt of, and more. Way, and way more.

Alex pushed you backwards until she has you pinned to the door, her hands now roaming close to the bottom of your sweater. Your hands moving to tangle into her brown hair that was framing her face. “You sure you want to do this, baby?” The professor said as she pulled away.

You desperately nod your head, as your hands attempt to pull her face closer again.

“No, darling, I have to have vocal consent,” her hands played with the bottom of your shirt. “I- please, Alex, I need you so bad, please mommy,” The moment she heard that last word leave your lips, she pushed her lips to yours again, sliding her tongue into your mouth, exploring every single centimetre that she could reach. Her hands slipped into your sweater, discovering every curve until she reached your breasts.

Her lips travelled south, softly biting your neck. “Gosh, you’re so gorgeous for me, baby,” her voice radiated a warmth through you, that ended up all the way into your pussy.

She bit into your skin, making you let out a soft moan. “Please, mommy, I need more,” You pant out, your hands pushing her head down. “Shhh baby, I’ll get there, I promise,”

Her teasing didn’t seem to end, leaving a countless amount of hickeys and bite marks all over your neck.

Finally, after what seemed both hours and seconds, her hands grasped onto the sweater. “Can I take this off?” The brunette looked into your half closed eyes, her eyes filled with nothing but love and need. “Yeah, please,” the words came harder than you ever could’ve expected.

Finally, she took off your shirt. She stood there, allowing herself to take in this moment, cause who knows when the next time will be when she can see you like this (which will most likely be next Friday, if not sooner).

Your needy hands pulled onto the rim of her shirt. “Off,” you murmured. All Alex just did was grant you a smile and the little nod that allowed you to pull the shirt over her head. Your eyes scanned over her body, desperate to remember absolutely everything about her. Every freckle, curve and ‘imperfection’ that was scattered over her skin.

“You done staring, baby?”

“Mm, you’re really pretty,” you whisper, as your hands wander over her exposed skin.

“Oh, well thank you baby.” She kissed the tip of your nose, making you let out a small giggle. “I think you’re really pretty as well.”

Her hands slide towards your ass, “Take them off, please,” You practically beg.

“Your wish is my command,”

She quickly pulled down your trousers and underwear, throwing it somewhere on the floor. The linguist picked you up with ease and carried you to her desk, where she put you on.

The brunette immediately dove into your pussy, eating you eat like it was your last meal. Her tongue lapping up your juices.

It was just embarrassing as to how close you already were. Your thighs were shaking, you back arching and your hands pushing her head impossibly closer to where you needed her the most. “Mommy, I’m so close, please,” You moan out.

“Are you coming inside or not?” A voice shook you out of your daydream, as Alex Blake stood there in her doorframe, looking down at you.

[imaginesandbandfiction]

Triad Part 7 — Trouble in Paradise

A Cazriel x Reader Headcanon

A/N: MFW the silly little smut drabble series I started over winter break starts developing a plot :o

Lmaooo I should have seen this coming. Be patient with me, I'm in a creative writing MFA program so fanfic isn't my priority rn but this series is begging to be written so I'm going to follow those vibes as far as they take me, just bear with me if updates are sporadic.

Click here to be added to the taglist so you never miss an update!

Warnings: Angst, some smut

Of course, there’s a learning curve that comes with a Triad Bond. Sex is the easy part—being in a relationship with two bullheaded Illyrian males is more complicated.

Rhys tried his best not to send any of you on solo missions but, inevitably, something came up and Azriel had to go undercover in the Court of Nightmares. It’s a top-secret mission and he has to block you and Cassian out the entire time he’s there, lest someone learn the true reason for his visit.

And… it was a lot easier to be a spy without two mates waiting for him back home. His mental shields are ironclad, trapping all the frustration and sadness behind closed doors, but it seeps out in other ways. His shadows are way more vicious than they normally are and, after long days spent playing nice with Keir and his cronies, as soon as his bedroom door locks behind him, he fists his cock in quick strokes. It takes a matter of minutes for him to spill himself into the mattress with how pent-up he is.

Things aren’t much better in Velaris. Sure, you and Cas have each other, but the bond hates the dark hole where Az should be and no matter how hard you try to soothe the ache, it never goes away.

Cassian throws himself into training; on days he doesn’t have other work to do, he flies out to Windhaven and spends the day beating the shit out of anyone who dares challenge him. When he comes home late at night, you patch him up with soft, delicate touches and hold him until his tears dry up.

Sex isn’t the same without Azriel there, either. You try to hold out; it feels wrong without him, but everything boils over a week into his absence.

Cassian spent the day in Windhaven, again, and you wait up with a book and a cup of tea but it’s morning when he slams through the door drenched in blood and reeking like the mixed-together contents of a liquor cabinet.

“Cas?” You mumble, lifting your head off the couch cushion and rubbing your eyes as you push yourself into a sitting position. He stomps past you into the bedroom and you hear the water running as he fills the bath. Stifling a yawn, you push through the nausea swirling in your gut and follow him on your tiptoes.

When you push the washroom door open, you see his broad shoulders bent over the edge of the half-filled tub, bloodied and shaking with the force of his sobs.

You surge forward and fall to your knees next to him, wrapping your arms around his middle.

“Shhh, it’s okay, baby,” you whisper, rubbing his back. His head drops to your chest and you feel his rumbling anger in your soul.

Y/N? It’s Rhys’ voice in your head, tentative and sheepish. Is he okay?

No, you snarl back, immediately feeling guilt for the harshness of your words. But Ariel is gone, Cassian is broken, and your heart is torn in two. You force yourself to be gentler as you ask: Is there something I should know?

Rhys hesitates. Devlon called me in to fetch him this morning and… it wasn’t pretty. I’ll send word to Madja and tell her you’re going to be out for a few days.

Before you can protest, he continues. I know you’ve been working overtime. You’re running yourself ragged, Y/N. You need a break just as much as he does.

Rhysand cuts off the mental connection in the middle of your indignant huff, but the gears in your mind are turning. Instead of turning to each other in Az’s absence, you’ve been burying yourselves in solitude and work. Clearly, something has to change.

You loosen the strip of leather holding Cas’s hair up and sprinkle deep purple healing magic into it as you run your fingers through his thick locks. It’s just enough to calm him down, sobs tapering off into shuddering breaths.

“Cas?” You ask when he finally stills, slumping boneless against you. “Whose blood is this?”

He tilts his head back, guilt filling in every line on his face, and your heart clenches. No wonder Rhys offered to talk to Madja for you; he probably needed her to fix whatever damage Cassian’s misplaced anger had caused.

“‘M sorry,” Cas whispers, burying his face in your neck again. “I didn’t mean to, I just…”

“Shhh,” you shushed him, curling one arm to cradle his head. “I know you didn’t, baby. Rhys does too. This is new territory for all of us, and there were bound to be some kinks to work out.” Cas nods against you and you squeeze him as tight as you can, channeling love and healing magic through the bond. Behind you, the tub is full of steamy hot water, so you wave your hand to get rid of Cas’s clothes and help him into the bath.

When he’s settled, you shed your nightgown and get in with him. He rests his head against the side of the tub and lets you run a bar of soap over the planes of his muscles, healing bruises and scrapes as you find them.

"Thank you," he whispers once you’ve finished. He reaches one hand out and pulls you against his chest without opening his eyes.

The bond settles as much as it can without a third anchor to tether itself to. You lay there, basking in the soft glow of your mingling magic, until suddenly Cassian stands up, pushing you off him.

“Sorry,” he grunts when you fall forward, splashing into the water. “I just…” You follow his gesturing hand down the V of his hips and the problem stares out at you—long, thick, and hard. “I dunno, it feels wrong without Az.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, torn between the mouth-watering sight of him on display, just inches from your face, and the guilt bubbling up inside you. In the end, the bond makes the decision for you, practically shoving you forward to pull Cas’s cock in between your lips.

His protests are dead on arrival; you don’t even hear them, too focused on pouring all your pent-up sexual frustration out onto him.

After just a few minutes, his hips are bucking wildly and he forces himself to pull back. You look up at him with wide eyes and saliva dripping down your chin, and he growls, tugging you out of the tub so he can shove you against the wall. He drops to his knees and drapes one of your legs over his shoulder, devouring you like a man starved.

With no patience left for teasing, he fucks you with his tongue, plunging deep into your core until you’re writhing against him.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, tumbles out of your head and into his as the pleasure builds and builds.

That's it, baby, he sends back down the bond, digging into your sweet spot with one of his fingers. Let go for me.

Your body follows his command, the tightly wound coil inside of you snapping as soon as you have permission. He grins against you as you fuck his face, riding out your high.

As soon as he pulls away, he’s got his hands under your ass, hauling you up into his arms as he presses his cock into your slick folds. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively as your head drops back against the wall.

It’s quick and dirty. Without Azriel there to force you to slow down and savor each other, you’re teetering on the edge of a second orgasm before you’ve fully recovered from the first. Cassian’s thrusts grow sloppier and you feel through the bond that his release is looming.

When he ducks his head to pull one of your nipples between his teeth, both of you lose the last of your self-control. Cas drives his hips into you and fills you up, tipping you over the cliff. You clench your walls around him as your release comes gushing out.

Meanwhile, in one of the training rooms under the mountain, a wave of something washes over Az as he’s running through drills against a training dummy with Truth Teller. At first, he thinks it’s nausea and regrets not stopping by the kitchens to grab a bite earlier, but the ache is too low to be coming from his stomach.

When he reaches one gloved hand to palm himself through his leathers, he’s shocked to find his cock solid and straining against the fabric. He thanks the Mother that he’s training alone today and makes quick work of it.

Three weeks into Az’s mission, Mor heads under the mountain to check on him under the guise of visiting her father. She enters the dining room and immediately realizes that something is wrong. There’s a woman sitting to Kier’s right, and Az is on her other side. His shadows nip at Mor’s toes like she’s the enemy as she takes her seat on her father’s left.

He refuses to speak to her, but when they make eye contact during dessert, his eyes are dark and stormy, filled with shadows of their own.

When she retires to her room later that night, she reports back to Rhys who orders her to pull Az out as soon as she can.

Despite the fact that they haven’t slept together in decades, it’s easy to slip back into old habits. The next morning at breakfast, she lays it on thick. By dinner time, her father merely waves them off when she requests the Shadowsinger for her own personal reasons.

“Go on then,” he grunts, rolling his eyes. “I’ll let the High Lord know when I require your presence next.”

As soon as they’ve both gathered their belongings, Mor winnows them away. When his feet touch solid ground, Az shoves her away with a snarl. His shadows surge forward to cushion her back and prevent her from falling; even blinded by his anger, he doesn't want to hurt her.

“What the fuck,” he growls. “I wasn’t done!”

“I have orders to pull you out of there. Rhys thinks you’ve gone in too deep.” Az growls like a feral animal being forced into a cage.

“Rhysand needs me in there now more than ever. Something’s happening, Mor. Something big, and I was working my way in, I—“

Mor cuts him off, holding a hand up to silence him.

“You think I don’t know that? Whether I like it or not, that’s my father. I know something’s up, but Rhys needs you in there, Azriel. And you’re not you right now. You’re cold and ruthless, not thinking clearly after too much time away from your mates.”

Az deflates and drops onto the sofa behind him. It’s the worn old leather one in Rhys’s mother’s cottage, in Windhaven. Mor sits down next to him, rubbing a hand across his shoulders, careful to avoid brushing against his wings which are rigid and full of tension.

“It’s not your sole responsibility to save the world, Az. You’re an excellent spy, but you’re more than that, too. Don’t let the tunnel vision take over.”

Az drops his head into his hands, letting out all of the air in his lungs with one deep sigh. He knows she’s right, that the bond should be a strength and not a weakness, but he’s terrified that something will happen to his mates. He couldn’t risk it, not when he was down there.

But that wasn’t his decision to make alone. The more he fought against the bond, the more it fought back, rattling his brain and tugging at every one of his senses. The effort to keep it bottled up drained his energy until all he could see was the mission, his purpose. Gathering information about the woman, Amarantha, became the most important thing in his life.

So he feels like a bit of an asshole when he turns up on your doorstep with his rucksack slung over one shoulder and only a faint shimmer of the bond left flickering inside his chest. It’s not enough to keep him tethered to the two of you, so he has no idea how you're feeling, but he forces himself to knock on the door, anyway.

“Hi,” you whisper, letting your arm drop from the doorknob to your side. On your end, the bond bursts into bright golden flames that shoot down, making a beeline for Azriel.

It tugs at Cas’s side, too, and then his head pops up behind your shoulder.

“Hi,” he says, flashing the dopiest grin that Azriel has ever seen.

Taglist: @wallacewillow0773638 @hnyclover

[queers-gambit]

When Pride Married Prejudice -- completed series masterlist

requesting rules and masterlist

completed series summary: she is the (only) trueborn daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen and Lord Laenor Velaryon. after her younger brother, Lucerys, slices out the eye of their uncle, Aemond Targaryen, her hand is offered as payment to keep the peace. though unexpected, she finds herself in a loving marriage, until devastating news forces her to make an impossible choice.

pairing: Aemond Taargaryen x Velaryon!wife!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

total series word count: 97,184

universal warnings: book and show spoilers, cursing, smut, angst.

note: alternate endings because i'm restless and can't choose. also the idea of a Velaryon!reader isn't my own, so, let's play nice and show a shred of respect for different author's varying ideas, perspectives, and details - thank yew ✨

in chronological order:

When Pride Married Prejudice

When Pride Married Prejudice [ part two ]

It Feels Like (the Very) First Time

It Feels Like (the Very) First Time [ part two ]

Petitions

Distraction

The Inky Green Council

Bearer of Bad News

alternate ending one: Kin Slayer • [ part two ]

alternate ending two: Sweetest Devotion • [ part two ]

guide to final alternate endings: Kin Slayer -- is for those in the slutty angst club 'cause i'm comin' for your feelings. reader is Team Black. Sweetest Devotion -- is for those who crave closure and comfort. reader is Team Green.

in order of publication: Distraction Bearer of Bad News Petitions The Inky Green Council When Pride Married Prejudice WPMP [ part two ] It Feels Like (the Very) First Time It Feels Like (the Very) First Time [ part two ] alternate endings: Kin Slayer • [ part two ] // Sweetest Devotion • [ part two ]

WPMP Universe drabbles:

all with be marked if they are or are not considered part of the series timeline. please pay attention to those notes.

organized in order of submission brought to you by my beautiful readers who sent requests:

• ( requested ) -- ANGST and small fluff i wonder who aemond would choose if he was given the choice of saving his wife or the baby during childbirth... would he choose the same as his father?

• ( requested ) -- ANGST and FLUFF i LOVE how you worded Aemond choosing sweet girl over the baby because in all truth, i imagine him justifying his choice as "what use would i be to a child without the tender care of a mother and an empty shell of a father?" because he knows IF he had chosen otherwise, he would be following in Viserys' footsteps and he wants to be better. so i 100% agree he would choose them over the child and ofc he's read of the aftermath of losing a child for the mother, so he's there to coax sweet girl but at the same time i feel like he'd mourn with her because that was a life they created together.

• ( requested ) -- ANGST how would he react if ever in a very unlucky world, he would lose both his child and wife at childbirth (not like viserys where he was given a choice) but bec it just didnt end well esp when pregnancies doesnt really guarantee a safe delivery all the time.

• ( requested ) -- ANGST and FLUFF 3 Times He Didn't, 1 Time He Did can you please write something where the reader (the same reader in your series) is spending memorable time with her grand sire and he asks her “will I be remembered as a good king”. 🥺

Wattpad link

to all my beloved readers -

thank you for coming on this journey with me. what a ride it's been writing this. now that the series is complete, i admit i'm a bit sad. i just wanted to take the time to thank you all for bearing with me through this, and share my gratitude and love for you all. happy reading!

all my love, 🖤🍒 Cherry

[eluxcastar]

Number 13 and 14 with Arlecchino

Arlecchino being comforted by her s/o

── ୨୧：arlecchino x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: arlecchino comfort drabbles yesyes

୨୧﹑genre :: sort of fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, possibly ooc because it was written pre fontaine quest, not very proofread, arlecchino is implied to have issues with self-image/perception

୨୧﹑words :: 2.2k

"I could see the worst parts of you and still think you are the most beautiful person I've met." "I'm going to ask you how you are and I would like you to answer me honestly."

IT'S HERE you guys always spoil me 13 is my favourite prompt and you are the first of two to request it. completely unrelated but this is so familiar to what Kae said a few days ago (months now omg 😭) when we were talking about One of Repetition and it fits those two so well 😭❤️

to the anon who requested furina it'll take me a minute to figure out how to write her because I haven't played the archon quest but I'll watch some cutscenes and do my best for you

I'll also be using this because I got it in the middle of writing this and thought it fit the idea I had going super well 🙏 that makes three Arlecchino requests with prompt 13 😭 also second anon you're fine dw you guys are free to do with your requests with these prompts as you like, mix them together, add extra descriptions and rambles it makes it more fun 👍 thank you btw 😭❤ feel free to give yourself a name for future requests if you want ❤️ I love having new anons

prompt list

It is not often that Arlecchino shows her doubt, maintaining that half-pleasant façade to hide it all. If all people see is a ruthless woman with no regard for loyalty, then the details don't matter. There's no need to question, no need to dwell. She is one thing and nothing more, and she much prefers for nobody to notice the hesitancy in her drastic decisions, the thin-veiled regret as she watches the children she witnessed grow up go on to become valiant children of the Tsaritsa.

If there is anything more, it is disregarded as her unpredictability. She is a roach in the eyes of others, and perhaps she's ok with that…mostly.

To hear someone say "I love you" is strange to her, though it shouldn't be by now.

It shouldn't be unusual to wake up tangled in the sheets with you by her side or the struggle it ends up being to leave that mess as you try to convince her to spend five more minutes with you. It shouldn't be odd to discover that you've gone ahead and made her tea in anticipation of the time she will wake up or to have you remind her every morning that you hung her coat up to dry after she dumped it over the back of a chair the night before or to see you wandering around going about your own job.

But those events all feel surreal to her, even though she has watched you walk your patrol path a thousand times now, and she has seen you slack off where she sits by the window of Zapolyarny when you think nobody is looking.

You are very real, there's no doubt about that.

The things you do never click with her, however.

Perhaps you are real, but she made up these fantasies after watching you loiter by that one spot in the garden a little too long.

Yet every evening, you meet her in her office after you're officially let off for the day, and you usually bring snacks. You are most definitely there, then, as she watches you struggle to get through the door without damaging whatever you found for her to try, usually only small, a pastry you managed to get that you absolutely mustn't knock from your hands.

"I tried to get something that wouldn't make a big mess all over your stuff," you usually say, sometimes hacking on a 6guilty little "But~ these just looked so good…" to try and excuse you for bringing something that would cover her desk in crumbs.

Arlecchino doesn't mind because you went to the trouble of getting her something.

She got you a special chair to pull up and everything, and anyone else who uses it can deal with the death glare they get or find a different one.

But perhaps she made that up too, conjuring the image of someone fumbling their way through her office door to greet her with a smile, sometimes with jam on your mouth from taste-testing the gifts that she'll point out to you that you hurriedly wipe on your sleeve and pretend it was never there.

Maybe she put that chair there for nothing, and it never really moves, and each time she thinks this, she is sure this fantasy will all disappear.

However, every evening, without fail, as the sun begins to set out the window and the room is dyed an orange hue, the door opens, and there you are again. Delusions can't possibly be that persistent, and you would've scowled at her when she approached you in the hallways if you weren't aware of this relationship.

So it must be real, which she's well and truly aware of. There must be a person out there who sees what she cannot, someone who, by some miracle, manages to see past the things that block out all of the good. How can a person see anything but someone unworthy of their love?

What else is there to see? 

The idea of a person who deserves to be loved beneath bloodshed has become unthinkable.

For a person who has been exposed to Arlecchino's worst sins, who has seen everything, and whose worst offence in life is a little laziness on the job, how is it possible to look at her and smile?

Arlecchino often wonders as she watches you. She how you go through your routine of placing your things down, whether on the desk or beside them, then all too happily mosey on off to get your chair and drag it over to sit across from her. She doesn't know why it's this particular day that she asks. Perhaps the fact it was weighing on her mind after a recent mission had her list of redeeming qualities shrinking further and further. It is in her job description, and there are plenty of worse people in this world.

But do you deserve to be stuck with one of them?

"Did you ever feel pressured into accepting my feelings for you?" Arlecchino asks the question so suddenly as you're halfway through walking back with your chair that she sees the exact point you register what she said, freezing in place from the shock. "Whether through status or power," she adds.

You blink a few times before all the motion in your world resumes to greet you with the image of her staring you down from the other side of her desk, patient and waiting for your response. "Sorry?" You let the chair go to return alone to her, standing in the place where you always put it. "I don't, uh…follow? I'm sorry, I just— I'm not sure what you mean?"

She hesitates, momentarily glancing down before her age returns to you and your uncharacteristic expression riddled with worry. She must've made you upset again.

"You want to be in this relationship? With me, that is…" Arlecchino struggles to think of the words, saying them as soon as they appear in her mind. "Even though you know the kind of person I am, you still want that?" 

She studies your face as carefully as she can, watching the way you react as you absorb everything you just heard and assumedly try to put a response together in your head. Arlecchino has noticed before how you take longer to speak than her sometimes, but it tends to make everything you say more thought out, though you may end it like you're unsure.

"Well, I mean…if I didn't, wouldn't I just—" you pause for only a second— "break up with you?" There's silence after you finish. She doesn't say or do anything. To Arlecchino, that strangely almost makes sense, but you must be far too bold to admit that to a Harbinger. "It's not that I want to! I'm a little--…well, I think I'm just a little bit confused where that's coming from."

"I was thinking about it." You frown when she admits that. "Some of the things you have seen of me are…" Is there even a word to encompass that? "unbecoming of a lover."

Is that the right way to phrase it?

Again, you pause, and the telltale signs of consideration cross your face. An intense focus that barely lasts, and Arlecchino waits through it all to allow you your chance to answer, intent on allowing you that much. A few seconds more, and your features relax, looking back at Arlecchino with a tender gaze. "There's not really one 'right way', is there?" Your question, though rhetorical, strikes a chord with the many impulsive responses that flood her mind, all of which she keeps to herself. "You just kind of...try your best. Things might work out, or maybe they don't— the point is that you mean well and put in the work."

"That's not enough," she argues, "you deserve better."

"I deserve what I want." Your rebuttal makes sense in theory, but what do you want? She struggles to make sense of that part, the answer muddled by all of her thoughts and lost in her doubts. 

You could ask anything of her, and she would do it. Any material possession, every feeling, more love than you know what to do with in any form you desire—physical, emotional, intimate—and yet you never do. You accept her awkward hugs, that it takes her time to relax when you lay your head on her chest, the fact she sometimes snores, that her clothes may very well be covered in bloodstains when she comes home depending on uncontrollable circumstances.

You never ask for the things she has plenty of power to give you in return for those flaws.

She shakes her head, "but surely you want more."

"I don't."

"There is a lot wrong that you deserve compensation for." 

Arlecchino clenches the pen in her hand tightly, feeling the slight distress of pressure around it. She can't articulate what, not in the way she understands it; flaws is too broad of a term to use. You would instantly know and understand what she meant in a perfect world, but the world is not so generous.

"Like what?" you question. You feel that it’s obvious that nothing Arlecchino will struggle to say will shake you. She opens her mouth, prepared to refute it, headstrong and frankly stubborn as ever, but nothing comes out.

There is silence for a moment, and no one rebuts what you say. Nobody can. The only other person in the room fights with herself to yield and give in to your unwavering loyalty. In your mind, she is everything you want. There is nothing else you can ask of her than to simply accept that you wish to remain with her if only she will allow you to through her own emotional turmoil.

"Are you listening to what I’m saying?" you ask, frown creeping back onto your face as it tugs the corner of your lips down, seemingly against your will, "I could see the worst parts of you and still think you are the most beautiful person I’ve met."

Another chord is struck, her heart beating so loud it thrums in her ears like suddenly becoming aware it’s been threatening to beat out of her chest the entire conversation. She breathes, shaky and caught up in her own surprise. Somehow, she didn’t expect you to be so sweet in your words or throw her off guard so abruptly. She finds it hard to believe them. Arlecchino’s worries haven’t disappeared, only dwindled. It helps, if not completely. There is a reprieve in listening to you.

You have seen the worst of her, every crease she hasn’t ironed out, her sometimes rotten personality, her stained clothes, the weapons she cleans in your home. You have seen her walk to greet you covered in blood and gore from a savage fight, kneel before you and hold your hand with the same hands she uses to kill vagrants and petty criminals, kiss your skin with those lips that spill the vilest of curses against her enemies.

Before she realises what she’s saying, she blurts out a question, "Do you really believe that?" 

It is quiet, reminiscent of how gently you looked at her earlier as her voice barely breaks a whisper, and she can’t bring herself to break eye contact with you once she finds the courage to make it.

"I do." 

You smile at her, hoping she will smile back. A faint smile graces Arlecchino’s lips, ever the handsome picture. Her sincerity is comforting after such a scare. You still worry, and perhaps you will never stop with the way her mind likes to trick her. How long had she thought you secretly looked at her with disgust this time? You fear you won’t have an answer again, though you desperately wish for one. As much as you notice her awkwardness, dismissing some of it and observing other parts with more scrutiny, it is hard to make her talk to you at times.

"Thank you." It is all Arlecchino can think to say in response as she forgets what else she was going to challenge you on. It will return eventually, and she will face it again, but for now, it settles. Arlecchino can reasonably bury her doubt for a time.

"Can we keep talking?" you ask. 

"About anything," she confirms with a nod.

You turn away, walking across the room in pursuit of retrieving your chair from its designated spot by the wall. You pull it along, dragging it over the floor, and set it down across from her on the other side of the desk you’ve been talking across. Your seat welcomes you as it always does as you settle into place, now comfortably at eye level with her.

"In that case," you begin, taking the pen she holds and wriggling it from her hands. She relinquishes it without much of a fight, allowing you to place it off to the side out of the way. "I’m going to ask you how you are, and I would like you to answer me honestly."

"Anything for you, my love."

[penvisions]

dev's masterlist {joel miller}

I've somehow expanded my writing enough to warrant a whole separate masterlist for the one and only Joel Miller! He's so diverse and there are so many facets to his character, so it's been fun to explore writing for him ♡ Keep in mind my blog and online spaces are strictly 18+ Each fic has its own masterlist post with links to chapters, warnings, and supplemental content! Happy reading! ♡

back to -> navigation || main masterlist

*Series / Multichapter Fics:

Title: return the favor Pairing: Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Smuggler! Reader Status: work in progress Summary: With a past as rich as anyone in the times after the Outbreak, you find your medical and survival skills to be a valuable asset.You were dropping off some medical supplies that FEDRA was willing to pay big for when you got tangled up in a mission that involves a teenager with a mouth almost as smart as yours and gruff older man whose graying curls were his only redeeming quality. But the longer you traveled with them and the more that happened out in the open land of what once was, the more you find yourself connecting with them and wanting to protect them both at any cost.

ao3 link || series masterlist

Title: garnish Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Bartender! Reader (a restaurant au) Staus: complete Summary: Summer is a time of fun and carefree days for those who are fortunate enough to not work within the food industry. You however have found yourself back in that world and so long were the days you could spend doing nothing. Along with the shift back to a world you once left behind is the figure of Joel Miller, who is as magnetizing as he is irritating that is now a part of your daily life.

ao3 link || series masterlist

Title: zest Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Professor! Reader (formally known as Bartender! Reader) Status: work in progress Summary: With the passage of time, Joel Miller had shifted from ‘chef’ to something more. Your once hidden relationship a secret now out in the open. After a break in which you finished your degree and managed to land your dream job of teaching at the collegiate level, Joel had thrown himself into his work at the restaurant where you met. Back together and in far better mental places in your life, you both are caught off guard by the sudden news of being prospective parents. But things are always gonna get hectic because, of course, how else would things go with the two of you involved? It’d been that way for nearly two years after all.

ao3 link || series masterlist

Title: by the grit of sandpaper Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x F! Reader (Artisan! Joel Miller x F! Reader Status: complete Summary: Joel Miller is a gruff as they come, the world having changed him for the worst. But settling in Jackson with his brother changed him for the better. He's known around town as someone to help, whether it be with home repairs, construction, and hand carved trinkets. An offhand comment from you inspires him to branch out and create helpful kitchen wares. And it seems everyone has been gifted one from him, except for you. It makes you rethink the casual friendship you had developed with the man that had just begun to expand beyond patrols.

ao3 link || series masterlist

Title: gone to the dogs Pairing: Boston QZ! Joel Miller x F! Reader Status: work in progress Summary: What happens when the world ends in such a violent way that it robs you of your very humanity? Do you submit or raise your hackles and fight back? The answer is obvious to Joel Miller, known for being someone to not to cross even in the most dangerous corners of the Boston QZ. The answer is obvious to you, too, who transformed in his likeness.

ao3 link || series masterlist

*One Shots / Drabbles:

Title: for the record Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader Summary: The longer, more dangerous patrol routes around Jackson are designated to you and one Joel Miller. You both have an understanding with each other, talking wasn’t the biggest concern for either of you, but being confident in each other was. He wasn’t a bad friend in your scavenged life, but then again you were beginning to think you didn’t want to be just his friend…and that’s got you more than a little sexually frustrated.

ao3 link || direct link

Title: unexpected bloom Pairing: Pre-Outbreak! Joel Miller x Reader Summary: A single flower and a chance encounter brings color to your life.

ao3 link || direct link

Title: there's a place and time Pairing: Younger! Joel Miller x Neighbor! Reader Summary: Moving back to your parents house wasn't part of the plan, neither was being a thorn in your neighbor's side. but you roll with the punches, and hey, he's kinda cute when he gets huffy.

ao3 link || direct link

{wristwatch}

{early morning filth}

{joel's morning wood}

*Construction Corner:

Title: black hole sun Pairing: Pre-Outbreak! Joel Miller x Waitress! Reader ; Jackson! Joel Miller x Survivor! Reader Status: under construction : to be posted soon! Summary: You carry memories of Joel Miller in your heart in the wake of the end of the world, someone who had once been a bright spot in the dull monotony of life. When you unexpectedly cross paths with him again, he’s no longer the young man you used to share moments with but an unforgiving dark spot that had been corrupted by the new world order. He’s gone in the blink of an eye once again, showing up months later to settle in Jackson as he’s turned into some convoluted mixture of each. Maybe time and circumstance will allow for you finally tell each other how you feel?

ao3 link || series masterlist

[chiharuhashibira]

I want these drabbles right now

I wanna read about Kyojuro and Giyu being your secret boyfriend crush while you are another Hashira's tsugoku.

So here it is! My mixed-imagine/drabble as I can't write short fics that well hahaha! I'm too detailed but Imma try!

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

𝑯𝒖𝒔𝒉 𝑳𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈

𝐊𝐲𝐨𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐤𝐮 & 𝐆𝐢𝐲𝐮 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐤𝐚 𝐗 𝐓𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐤𝐮!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Content Warnings: None ^^

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

🌸𝑲𝒚𝒐𝒋𝒖𝒓𝒐 𝑹𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒐𝒌𝒖🌸

You are Lord Tengen's tsugoku. You first met Kyojuro when Lord Tengen introduced you to him when he visited his best friend. His glistening eyes and flame-like hair, which you'll swear scintillated under the sun, can't help but draw your attention. A hit behind your head, and you were down.

"Y/N-chan? Are you alright?" You heard a loud voice that snapped you back to reality.

"Eh, she'll be fine. It's her fault for not being flashy." Lord Tengen's voice echoed as you sat up, rubbing the back of your head. "I'm sorry, Lord Tengen." You bowed, and your master just patted your head. "That's fine, little one. Just make sure to do better tomorrow. Today's training is over."

"Thank you, Lord Tengen."

The man pulled his friend away, but before completely taking him away, Kyojuro turned back to you and gave you a big smile. You blushed and immediately gave him a sweet smile. That's the first time that your heart has started beating fast for someone.

--

Kyojuro's visits became more frequent. He would even volunteer to train you for a day, which would make Lord Tengen happy as he could finally spend more time with his wives. Being your sub-trainer and also the one who sets your heart ablaze, you can't help but observe all his actions, taking them all in and applying them to yourself.

And as time passed, your Sound Breathing improved, which obviously made Tengen boast about you to his other pillars. Kyojuro sat beside you and draped his hands across your shoulder.

"I'm proud of you, little one." 

He says, imitating how Lord Tengen addressed you. This will definitely make you blush, almost wanting to just throw yourself on him to give him a smooch.

"Thanks to both of you." You said, smiling back.

--

For some reason, your first mission after that event was with Kyojuro. Tengen drapes his hand across your shoulder and tells you that he's confident that Kyojuro will take care of you. You swear that you saw Lord Tengen wiggle his eyebrows at Kyojuro, which made the flame incarnate red.

So during the mission, the Flame Hashira would often share his meals with you on your travels. Of course you would accept. But there's one thing. He wants to feed it to you like a little girl. Yes, the Flame Hashira seemed to not care about you indirectly kissing him through his chopstick. The thought makes you internally scream. His "UMAI" will stop those internal screams! Yes, he loved food, and you loved watching him eat.

Kyojuro would talk with you about his little brother, as he is also comfortable with you because of the bond that you have forged with him during your training. You love the way he talks and the way his eyes shine brightly while doing so. He's a little touchy, patting you by the shoulder, touching your arm, and even playing with your hair as he says, They look good.

However, in the battle, Kyojuro didn't give you a special treatment. He believes in your ability; he's your number two fan. Yes, because Lord Tengen is number one. But of course, he makes sure to help you whenever you're in trouble.

Both of you managed to finish the mission with minor wounds. But still, Kyojuro made sure that you were okay, always asking if there were other parts of you that were aching. Your heart wanted to just kiss him there.

When you're both sent back to Lord Tengen's estate as there's no need for major procedures on your injuries, Lord Tengen's three wives pull you into their embrace, with, of course, Suma crying her eyes out. Kyojuro looks at his best buddy and tells him how great you did at the fight.

Kyojuro spends the night in Lord Tengen's place because he is too tired. You visited him in his room and handed him some tea that you had made for him. Being the modest man he is, he couldn't help but blush as he looked at you, clad in clothing that matches Tengen's wives.

"Y-You're not cold with those clothes?" He asks shyly, handing you his uniform's jacket.

You took it, of course; you're in love with the man, so why not? You draped it over your shoulder, and you stopped yourself before all hell broke loose as his warmth and the scent of forest and campfires blanketed you.

Kyojuro asks you to sit with him, which you do, and he would ask you how your day has been and also ask about your injuries, making sure you are okay. He would even joke that if he didn't know who you were, he would mistake you for one of Tengen's wives because you are so beautiful.

"B-Beautiful?" You asked, blushing, which made Kyojuro realise that he had said too much. He went on all fours and bowed at you. "I'm sorry, I'm not looking at you in a bad way, Y/L/N-chan. You're just too beautiful to be ignored. I mean, you're strong and—"

You cut off his words with your sweet chuckle, which eventually made him look up. "Rengoku-san, thank you. You're beautiful as well." You said that made the guy almost lose his strength to do total concentration breathing.

--

Kyojuro's visits became more frequent after that evening than they had previously been. And he would bring you take-home meals that he had bought on his missions. He thinks of you more often as well. You even notice how he tries his best to give you a smile, even if he is in training with Lord Tengen. And there was a hit on the back of his head, and he fell down.

"Sorry buddy! I wasn't concentrating!"

Tengen would usually laugh it off, but of course, even without you two knowing, the man already knows that you two like each other.

But then, surprisingly, at the end of that day, Kyojuro finally confessed to you. Yes, he's the first to have revealed his feelings.

"I love you, Y/LN-chan!"

"Rengoku-san? You mean it?"

"Yes Y/L/N-chan! So, hush little darling, I'll do my best to make you happy."

"I love you too; I always did."

And of course, you accept it, finally getting the chance to throw yourself on him and give him that passionate kiss you have longed to do.

🌸𝑮𝒊𝒚𝒖 𝑻𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒐𝒌𝒂🌸

You're the Love Hashira's tsugoku. Mitsuri has adored you since she first laid eyes on you, so she took you in as the successor of Love Breathing. And so, she will take on your training, and one day, both of you will accidentally stumble on her fellow Hashira, Tomioka.

Knowing Mitsuri, she invited the man to stay for a while for lunch. Despite his cold facade, Giyu didn't reject Mitsuri and walked inside the inn with the two of you. That's the first time that you've met the Water Hashira, and since then, you can't take your eyes off him.

Tomioka doesn't talk to you, obviously, because even with his fellow Hashira, he isn't that chatty. You and Mitsuri knew that the ravenette man would accompany you in surveying the secluded town where suspected demonic activity is happening. You wanted it, but you also felt like it would be kind of awkward.

In surveying, you need to disguise yourselves, so the three of you went into a kimono shop and bought clothes to wear. After that, Mitsuri decided that she'd survey on her own, acting as if she were a food connoisseur. You complained, but she said that she couldn't let you work on your own, especially if the mission needs two Hashiras, so you need to be with Tomioka and pretend as if you're married or something.

"Can we be like siblings?" Tomioka asked, perhaps uncomfortable with the thought. You sighed and just agreed, even if you didn't want to. You're kind of attracted to Giyu's silence, as he radiates an enigmatic aura that magnetises you more. So acting like his sister would be harder than expected.

But you had no choice.

Tomioka stayed silent, avoiding any conversations as much as possible. When asking about things, he would let you talk, and he'd just watch you from afar. That kind of pisses you off, as he doesn't act as brotherly as he should.

So, you just let his attitude slide for a few more instances. But then you were surprised when you saw another part of him when a drunk man tried to touch you inappropriately while you were about to ask the bartender about what's been happening to the town.

Giyu caught the man's arm and squeezed it tight, which made the man whimper. "Hey, don't touch my wife." He said that and pulled you away from the place. You can't help but blush at what he said. The shift from sister to wife in your pretending was quicker than you thought. Actually, you never thought the man could do that at all.

"Focus on the road, not on my face, Y/L/N-chan."

"Oh sorry."

But despite that, Giyu's hand on your waist couldn't help you focus at all. He pulled you nearer as he noticed this, perhaps trying to protect you. You blushed at the thought again, but no...

"I'll tell Kanroji-san that you're not focusing if you continue to turn red as a tomato out of nowhere."

So the Water Hashira notices your blush! You pulled away from him and cleared your throat. "It's part of Love Breathing." You lied, which made Giyu smile a bit. You were astounded by that, so you went near his face and poked his cheek. "Tomioka-san! I've got you to smile!"

He rolled his eyes and walked past you, pretending to ignore your antics, but inside, he felt a bit happy. And so you did.

--

The day passed without any information. Mitsuri contacted the both of you using her Kasugai crow, and she said that they might need to stay a bit longer.

So, you and Tomioka decided to check into an inn. And yes, you're both pretending to be married couples, so he only booked one room for the both of you.

The first couple of days were a bit awkward. But then you tried your best to just focus on the surveillance. But sometimes, you will catch Tomioka looking at you with no emotion. It would look creepy on other people, but on you, it makes you red.

So tonight, Giyu was just sitting inside your room, cleaning his sword, while you were in the other corner, enjoying your meal.

But still, the Water Hashira was the first one to break the silence.

"I'll be on a survey tonight. Want to come with me?"

"Sure Tomioka-san."

"Just make sure to not turn beet red once again. I'm not the demon, so you shouldn't stare at me too much."

What is the matter with this man? He acts detached, but he notices every single bit of your actions that made a flush of heat crawl up your cheeks. Like Mitsuri, you're easily flushed.

"And, you're red again."

"Why are you observing me? Do you have a crush on me?" You asked Tomioka, which definitely caught him off-guard. He placed his sword on the table and crossed his arms. "What if I do?"

His answer shocked you. He doesn't act like he likes you, but he does. You gulped and looked away. A small chuckle escaped from Giyu's lips, and he just opened the window, readying himself to start the surveillance.

You tried to stop him, but he cut you off.

"Hush little darling, we'll talk about this later. Okay?"

"Yes sir." You muttered, blushing madly as he called you darling. You'll definitely let Mitsuri know about this. You know that she would never get mad at you for feeling this way.

Then after that, Giyu disappeared, and you soon followed him to start the surveillance.

You'll definitely talk with him about that later.

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖!

Thank you for checking this out my loves ^^

I'll make a few more fics and I hope you'll check em out~

Love yah! Requests are open so don't be shy!

~𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓾-𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷🌸

[nonstoplover]

a reason to stay ~ sebastian vettel (sv5)

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

pairing: sebastian vettel x fem!reader

song inspiration: reason to stay ~ brett young

summary: just a small drabble about sebastian not wanting the love of his life to get up and leave for work in the morning

words: 2.08K

a/n: this song is literally one of my all time fave songs, brett's genius lyrics can always reach very deep into my heart. i always wanted to write about the situation depicted in the song, and when i listened to it yesterday, i accidentally looked at one of the pictures i have of seb on my wall, and i just knew that it's got to be him i write this about. this song screams sebastian vettel for me. anyway, enjoy!

please, don't be a ghost reader, leave a comment or rb! any feedback is well appreciated!

Saturdays are Sebastian's favourite days since his retirement from Formula One. You may ask, why? It's simple. Those are the days when his wife finally doesn't have to go to work, those days he can have her all to himself. The whole damn day. And without any stupid housework coming up that she just needs to do, as it always is with Sundays.

It's not like he hasn't tried to convince her to stop working, at least for a while. Or okay, fine, just do part-time. He has enough money for them to lead a comfortable life for now. And then he – or they – will figure out the rest in time.

But she loves her job, so what can he really do? She doesn't want to stop, or even go part-time. She enjoys waking up early in the morning, sip her morning coffee while swiftly skimming through the news on her phone. She doesn't mind getting dressed and then leave for work – leaving him alone for the rest of the day, right up until she comes back in the late afternoon. It isn't nearly enough of her for him. He wants more time. He needs more.

But today isn't Saturday. Not yet. It's just a regular Friday, nothing else. One more day of suffering at home, by himself.

Sebastian softly groans to himself, trying to come up with a new idea to keep himself entertained. There are days when he just can't seem to find anything that he would enjoy doing. The days when his mind keeps on straying back to driving race cars, and almost regretting his choice to retire. But only almost. He knows it was the right decision at that very moment. He always wanted to leave the sport when he's still at the top, and who is he kidding? These past seasons he's never had a car capable to win the championship. And anyway, he wanted to spend more time with his wife finally. The only time they have for themselves, just the two of them, are the weekends, and when he was still racing, sometimes those very weekends have been taken away from them just the same. As his mind – mind you, still half asleep as he's just woken up – slowly spins with thoughts, his eyes stray to her sleeping form right next to him.

A beam of early morning sun is sneaking in through the crack in the curtain, casting a glowing, golden orange line on the pillow, leading straight to her face. She's facing him, thankfully, so the light doesn't shine right onto her closed eyelids, waking her up. She's told him so many times to be careful when closing the curtains in the evenings. It's just one of those tiny things she can not stand – waking up to the sun shining in her eyes. 'That's why there's a curtain there in the first place', he can hear the gently scolding tone of her voice in his ears still.

But as the sunlight creeps up onto her laying body, he can't help but notice how it looks just like a halo, as it makes her (y/h/c) strands glow beautifully. She looks like a real life angel – and it's only further proof to what he's already been suspecting. That she's been sent from heaven only to make his life brighter, lovelier, calmer, and in general, more perfect than he ever expected his life to ever be.

He concludes to himself that he just really likes waking up before her as it gives him the chance to watch her sleep looking so peaceful and trouble-less. It must be one of his all time favourite sights. He'll never admit it to her though, he knows well enough that she doesn't like it, when he's watching her sleep. Even when it's in the car on a long journey and they stop at a red light and he turns to find her sleeping soundly by his side. Even when it's in a hotel room that he arrived back late to from a meeting on a Saturday night of a race weekend back when he was still racing. She seems to think she looks ridiculous when sleeping, which eventually led to him having to try his best to keep all his photos of her sleeping a secret.

In the calm silence of the room he can hear all the tiniest of sounds coming from their surroundings – the birds already chirping their morning songs on the other side of the windows, the manual clocks ticking away the precious seconds. Sebastian glances at the clock as his mind registers the sound coming from it, and internally groans with a roll of his eyes as his eyes take in the time. Just five more minutes left before it goes off. He dreads that very moment. The harsh ringing of the alarm breaking the quiet and the peace, ruining everything, ruining these sweet moments he can enjoy without her knowledge.

Out of nowhere a new thought pops in his head. Maybe he could convince her to stay. He has very good ways to do just that. He can be very convincing if he wants to be, and he knows it.

She stirs in her sleep, and his eyes snap back to her face, just in case her eyes flutter open. He loves watching her wake up, even if it means that the dreaded moment came. But no, she just moves until her head rests on his shoulder and her arms over his waist, then lets out a tiny whimper – something that sounds vaguely like his name – and then continues sleeping just as calmly as she's been doing up until then. He got a few more precious minutes.

His hand softly moves to rest on her upper back, unconsciously twirling a strand of her silk-like hair around his fingers. His own eyes close lightly again, enjoying the gentle press of their heads together. If he could, he would stay like this forever.

But then the alarm clock actually goes off, making Sebastian think one or two swear words in his mind as his arm shoots out in the direction of the device to make it silent again, while shifting his head a bit to be able to see his lover better. Her fingers twitch, he can feel it on the skin of his waist, and then her eyes eventually open – just for a second, before they close again, only to repeat the same notion a few times in the following seconds. Her body fights against waking up.

A smile makes its way onto his face, just as her eyelids open for the last time, revealing those sparkling (y/e/c) orbs to him, the ones he could easily get lost in every time she flashes them at him. Her lips lazily curve similarly to his as she takes in the sight of him.

"Morning," her slightly raspy voice fills the air of their bedroom in a whisper.

"Good morning, angel."

"You been awake for long?" she tightens her arm around him for a second, making him press a peck on top of her head in return.

"No, just woke up at the alarm." Small white lies like this never hurt anyone – especially if it means he doesn't have to stop watching her sleep and take pictures of her while doing so.

Then her fingers leave his skin, and he can feel her start moving further from his body. His arm doesn't loosen though, not even a bit, trying to keep her where she's been. "I gotta make my coffee, Seb," she lets out a giggle, feeling his hold remain on her.

"No," comes his simple reply.

"What do you mean, no?" her giggle grows into a somewhat louder chuckle.

"If you have your coffee, you will just leave sooner."

"Darling, I'll have to leave sooner or later, and you know it."

"I don't want you to."

Her body shifts in his arms, resulting in two things. His arms tighten around her torso even more, and her face turns entirely towards him, to be able to gaze into his eyes deeply and comfortably.

"We've been through this, Sebastian, please," she smiles. "I have to go to work."

He pouts, eyes boring into hers with an unspoken plead.

"You're behaving like a baby again."

Her words are familiar to his ears, since not more than two mornings prior they had a conversation almost exactly the same as this one. With a sigh he lets the muscles in his face move back to their natural state, just watching her with adoring eyes. "Okay, I stop. In exchange, can I at least kiss you?

Attentive icy blue orbs snap down towards her lips just as she bites into the bottom one, the cheeky, flirty grin painted on all his features. She nods, and that's all it takes for the man to lean in, capturing her in a breathtaking kiss. He pours all his thoughts and emotions into the action, letting her feel it in the taste of his lips, in the small gasps of air leaving him, in the way his eyelashes brush against her cheek every once in a while.

He's determined.

He wants to make her get lost in the kiss like she did so many times before. To get so lost that she completely forgets where she is, what their previous conversation was about, and most importantly, what time of what day it was. He kisses her to make her think it's already Saturday.

At her still mumbled words, he admits defeat. His kisses didn't work. Not this time. With a sigh audible enough to make her feel just a tiny bit guilty, he lets his arms slacken around her and his upper body to fall down, his back reconnecting with the mattress along with the sound of a soft thud.

With the help of his arms, he presses her warm body tightly into his, entirely engulfing her in his embrace. This is all he ever wants to do.

"Seb," she mumbles against his lips after a few minutes pass by. He pretends not to hear her, just keeps on stealing the oxygen from her lungs, hoping that just these few more moments are going to be enough to get what he wants. "Seb." Her voice comes louder and more certain the second time, as she tenderly forces her hands in-between their upper bodies to apply pressure to his chest, trying to push him off of her. "I really do need to get up."

"Oh, come on, love, don't look so heartbroken. I'll be back at five," she reaches out to caress his cheek before moving her legs from where they were tangled with his all throughout the night. "It's not the end of the world."

"Maybe to you, it isn't," he grumbles, knowing just how childish he sounds right now.

She shakes her head with another giggle, cute and angelic as always, making his heart skip a beat, and all of a sudden he can't help himself, just got to steal another kiss from her lips. He crashes into her with such force that this time it's her back that thuds against the mattress, and a surprised gasp of air leaves her lungs, right into his mouth. She kisses him back with just the same passion still, getting over her surprise in a short moment.

Another few minutes pass in relative silence – only the sounds of their lips moving along each other can be heard.

"Sebastian, you can't make me late," her weak attempt comes once more not to his surprise.

"Says who?" he mumbles back without a skip, not moving the tiniest bit further away from her, instead just pressing his knee right into the space between her legs, technically sticking her to the mattress. Only when he can feel their position being secure is when he lets their lips disconnect, just to be able to properly look into her eyes with a mischievous glint. "I bet I can make what you just said a lie."

"Do you?" she raises an eyebrow, knowing full well that it's enough for him to feel challenged. And when he smells challenge, there's nothing that can stop him or make him back down.

Sebastian nods, his nose brushing against hers in the process. "I'll give you a reason to stay."

And maybe now, just this once, she can call in sick to work.

.::the end::.

taglist: formulapierre

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

[greetingfromthedead]

Things are getting messy so have a masterlist of masterlists and other short stories.

Find all the info you need about my writing below the cut!

🔞 - NSFW, usually cause it's smut

🔥 - extra explicit smut

💘 - angst

🔄 - modified chapter / demo. Usually a chapter from one of my series that is made to work as a standalone oneshot. May contain spoilers, so check the plot section.

Trigun

Multi

🔞🔥 Draconic Lust (ONGOING collection, Dragon!AU, F!Succubus!Reader) - it's just a collection of loosely connected smut oneshots taking place in a world where the Trigun characters are 6ft tall dragon shifters.

Vash x Reader

🔞 Tempest Wind Masterlist (COMPLETED, F!Reader)

Depth of Despair Masterlist (ONGOING Mermaid!AU, GN!Reader)

🔄 Womanizer (F!Reader) - TW demo - confined spaces affects Vash in a strange way and he has turned on his charm to try and seduce you.

🔄 Perfect Morning (GN!Reader) - TW demo - domestic fluff, intimacy, mild smuttiness, shy Vash

🔄 Happy Birthday (GN!Reader) - TW demo - You find yourself on a furry side quest and it turns into a very special birthday celebration that Vash puts on for you.

🔄 Festivities (GN!Reader) - TW demo - delusional bliss on an unfamiliar planet with weird traditions, ice skating and sweet Vash

🔄💘 Mayfly of Love (Vash x GN!Reader) - TW demo - Vash is tormented by a nightmare of losing you and his guilt for causing the Great Fall.

🔄🔞 Burn (F!Reader) - TW demo - basically smuttiness with little actual plot

🔄🔞 Desire (F!Reader) - TW demo - no plot, just porn. Often the quiet and shy ones surprise you...

🔄🔞 Worship (F!Reader) - TW demo - Worshiping each other's bodies (Vash more so), just soft intimacy

🔄 Starlight Dancing (GN!Reader) - TW demo - Contains some minor spoilers for the main series. You've been spending a lot of time with Luida in her lab and Vash has felt left out because of it. To make up for it, you spend a magical evening in the biodome.

Vash's Moving Castle (GN?Reader, might turn into a series) - A strange building made up of old spaceship parts, moving around on two legs across the wasteland of the desert, it hisses and creaks and fills the heart of many with fear... That castle is home to the magnificent tech wizard Vash, infamous for both his gunmanship and for being a womanizer—or so the rumor goes in your city. You're the eldest child of a gunsmith and as such don't expect much from your future. However, your simple life takes a turn for the exciting when you're ensnared in a disturbing situation, and the mysterious tech wizard appears to rescue you.

Just What You Need (GN!Reader short) - You wake up from your nap groggy as ever, but Vash knows how to make you feel better.

A Little Cold (GN!Reader short) - You catch a cold and Vash is there to take care of you.

🔞🔥 Plantheat (F!Reader) - About once a year Vash's heat rolls around and while he is worried about the position it puts you in, you enjoy all the positions.

💘 Stormy Night (SingleDad!Vash x F!Reader) - After the culmination of Knives's plans, life took on a different rhythm for Vash and he turned a new leaf with you, hoping to leave the pain of the past behind, but forgetting that he seems to be cursed to bring death to those he loves most in life.

💘 Ghost of You (SingleDad!Vash x Dead!F!Reader) - Your death haunts Vash for years, filling his dreams with nightmares, but for his twins, he will put on a brave face and do whatever it takes to make their childhood a happy one.

A Set of Five Hugs (GN!Reader) - Five occasions, worthy of a hug. (5 drabbles)

Magic!AU Mortal Companion (GN!Reader) - In a world of magic, there are those who shun it and a magic user will do what they have to to stay safe and undetected.

🔞🔥 The Favorite (Sinister!Vash x F!Reader) - It's the darkest timeline. Knives succeeded in remaking his brother, twisting everything Vash used to be into a sinister monster who relishes in violence and pain. Vash has a garden on women to cultivate his seed, yet you have always been his favorite and his sinister ways have rubbed off on you.

Wedding Bells (Bride!Reader) - You didn't really think too hard about your wedding day, planning to perhaps sign a paper and then go celebrate with drinks, but both you and Vash had made a promise to Lena and Granny to include them and once Meryl and Milly found out, the event took on a life on its own.

Little Feet (Dad!Vash x F!Reader) - After you save humanity, you start living your happily ever after and a year after your wedding, a whole new chapter begins in your life as you and Vash navigate through the trials and tribulations of having children of your own.

Pitter-Patter (Dad!Vash x F!Reader) - Vash feels like one more kid is a great idea and that's when the chaos begins, turning your whole life upside down once again.

💘 Die with You (GN!Reader) - Vash wakes up from a nightmare about the world ending, comforted by your presence in his arms, but little does he know then that his world would end soon enough.

💘 Family Ties (dad?Vash x mom!Reader) - You enjoy your little life in a distant little village with your little girl, yet the past does not want to stay there. Vash finds you again by accident, realizing he left behind more than just the love of his life, but still he has to play with the hand he has dealt for himself.

Vash & Reader

💘 A Cry for Help (GN!Reader) - Fate keeps crossing Vash's path with yours and every time you seem worse off, sad and lost. Vash sees his own pain mirrored in your empty expression and offers you a listening ear, while he reflects on his inner turmoil.

Knives x Reader

Apple Blossoms Masterlist (ONGOING, GN!Reader)

Shepherd Story 1 (GN!Reader) - In a world where fallen gods live among you, there is the god of winter and death who leaves behind merciless blizzards and famine wherever he goes on his eternal search for his other half he fell for many millennia ago.

🔞 Shepherd Story 2 (F!Reader) - Nature has gone through it's cycle and the god is back to visit you again and share a night of passion.

💘 Shepherd Story 3 (GN!Reader) - A sense of routine has arrived as you fulfill your duties and wait for his return.

🔄💘 Sanctuary (GN!Reader, WIP series Kiss With a Fist) - After finding yourself at Death's door you seek sanctuary from your longstanding foe Knives.

🔄 Masquerade (GN!Reader, WIP series Kiss With a Fist) - You find yourself swept away into the world of fairy tales with gilded halls and foreign music. The one and only partner there is the man you've been locked in a deadly dance with many times before.

🔞🔥 Plantheat (F!Reader) - Knives calls on you, a scientist whose interests in him are beyond just scientific, to him with the offer to help him get rid of his undesired affliction plaguing him once a year. Ensues a power play and a lot of rutting.

Wolfwood x Reader

🔞 Bound (F!Reader) - Lucky you've found an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere where Wolfwood can play the villain to his heart's content. Who am I kidding? There is no plot here.

Green Horror (GN!Reader) - You catch a cold and Wolfwood has a magic remedy you aren't too happy with.

Marvel Cinematic Universe

This is from like 5+ years ago, but oh well, let it chill here.

Masterlist

You can also read my stuff on other platforms: AO3! Quotev! Wattpad!

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Hello! If you are writing for Ettore could you please write a drabble or hc of him with a hypersexual!reader?? I’m infatuated with him aside from that one scene. If you are uncomfortable with this ask, there is no worries at all😊totally understood, thank you!

Hello! I am indeed more than happy to write for Ettore. I hope you don't mind, but this will be a part two to this request.

Warnings: Smut, violence. Word count: ~1200 Part one Series masterlist

It has been two weeks since the night of her little "deal" with Ettore, and she is plagued by the memory of the feel and taste of him in her mouth. It has awakened something primal in her that has her core throbbing for what she is certain only he can provide.

Her use of The Box has increased dramatically. Before, she had used it a couple of times a week to ease tension; now every spare moment she has she finds herself in there if it isn't already occupied. Thoughts of Ettore's body against hers, and all of the depraved things she'd allow him to do to her bring her to release each time, before she exits with her cheeks flushed and heart filled with shame.

The other inmates aboard have all commented upon her recent frequent usage of the masturbatory aid - not that they have any right to judge, it is an amenity used obsessively by everyone - so she is sure Ettore must have noticed too.

He hasn't said anything, but she knows he is trying to torture her. His work duties, that she wouldn't have batted an eye at him doing in the past, he now performs without the top half of his scrubs. She finds herself staring at the way his naked chest and biceps flex as he kneels to scrub the linoleum floor. She struggles to regulate her breathing, her mouth runs dry at the sight.

She has never experienced such unadulterated lust before and wonders if he is as affected by her as she is by him. Cursing under her breath, she turns on her heel and heads towards The Box. She spends the next half an hour toppling over the edge imagining his pectoral muscles tensing as he is above her.

Exiting, she runs straight into Ettore and she visibly flinches, shrinking backwards with a gasp. Her cheeks burn with embarrassment, her heart hammering in her chest, but he merely glances down at her, saying nothing. He brushes past, his expression unreadable as he enters the now vacant Box and closes the door behind him. She is silently hopeful he'll think of her, and a fresh wave of mortification washes over her.

There is a part of her that feels spurned by the fact he's made no further attempts to engage with her following that night. Though the rational side of her mind knows there is no privacy aboard the ship and sex is prohibited, it does nothing to slake her desire.

They are criminals, destined to die in outer space, nothing more than walking lab experiments for Dibs' twisted intentions. There is no happily ever after for her and Ettore, she is aware of that. She is not expecting them to ride off into the sunset together, however, his darkness calls to hers and she is all to willing to answer. Perhaps that is the issue; Ettore likes taking what isn't freely given and the novelty has worn off now that he knows she is willing.

The following morning she busies her hands and mind with tending to the plants in the garden. Tchemy is helping out in the lab, so for once she has the green space to herself. She relishes the tranquillity of it, it reminds her of being back on Earth, she can see why Tchemy spends so much time here; it's comforting.

She straightens, brushing soil from her hands onto the trousers of her scrubs. Her shocked yelp is muffled by a calloused palm clamping over her mouth, as she is pulled backwards by her throat into a familiar hardened torso.

"Stay quiet." Ettore orders in a murmur, his hot breath tickling the shell of her ear.

He spins her to face him, renewing his grip on her neck and forcing her to look up into those sinister icy blue eyes of his.

"I hear you." He says lowly. "Hear you moan my name through the door in The Box when you're getting off."

Her answer is a mere whimper, unable to speak through the intensity with which he's restricting her airway. It's painful and yet it sends a throbbing ache straight to her centre.

"Gonna have to do something so you stop going around the ship like a bitch in heat. Can't have you getting me into trouble."

He hooks his foot behind her ankle and pulls back, sending her toppling to the grassy floor. The wind is knocked harshly from her lungs as her back makes impact with the ground. Before she's had time to fully register what's happening, he's on top of her, pulling at her waistband.

"Ettore, what the fuck?!" She cries out, struggling beneath him. She attempts to kick out her legs, but he is too tall and heavy for her to budge.

The sharp crack against her cheek sends her head reeling to the side as he slaps her hard across the face, a hot stinging sensation instantly blooming across the skin.

"Shut the fuck up!" He hisses. "You're gonna get us found out."

She stays quiet, drawing in ragged breaths as he pulls her scrubs and underwear all the way off. She could cringe at the arousal that's pooling between her legs at his manhandling of her, but this is what she's been craving and now she's finally going to get it. It seems pointless to continue fighting it.

Ettore doesn't even bother to pull his trousers all the way down, simply lowering them enough to free his stiff cock before stuffing it inside of her.

She whines. Despite how wet she is, he's done little to prepare her and the sudden intrusion and stretch is painful.

As he begins to thrust inside of her, she turns her face to kiss him. He is quick to stop her, pressing his hand against her jawline and pushing her away.

"Don't do that." He says darkly, picking up the pace of his movements.

He is brutal with her. His hips snap against hers in quick, hard strikes, animalistic and relentless. There is no regard for her pleasure, and yet she finds herself enjoying it.

She angles her hips upwards and the head of Ettore's prick begins to bully at the spongy spot deep inside of her. She knows she won't last for much longer. She has been pent up for too long and this feels too good.

As the coil within her lower belly begins to tighten, she elicits a breathy moan.

"Oh fuck...I'm so close!"

"Keep your whore mouth shut!" Ettore barks back at her, never faltering as he continues to rut into her.

She realises that besides the occasional pant, Ettore has been completely silent. However, as her inner walls begin to tighten and spasm with the onslaught of her orgasm, she can't help but feel a small swell of pride at the grunt that escapes him.

He stills and she can feel from the pulsations inside of her that he's reached his own end. She has little time to bask in the afterglow, as he quickly pulls out once he's finished, standing and readjusting his clothing.

"Thanks for that." He shoots casually over his shoulder, as he walks out of the garden, leaving her laying there bewildered and half naked.