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#and now i need to find all my brushes again
luveline · 2 days
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hii can you please write about Hotch adoring the reader at night as she's sleep talking sweet things please please?? love you!
The first thing he does when he gets home that night is pop his head into Jack’s room. He wants to go in and kiss his forehead, or maybe hold his hand, but he’s worried he’ll wake him and it’s nearing three in the morning, so he whispers, “Love you,” and heads to the master bedroom. 
You’re sleeping not dissimilar to Jack, on your back, the sheets pulled up to your turned head. Aaron moves away from you reluctantly to get undressed and change into soft sleep clothes. He cleans his face and brushes his teeth, and when he returns to you, you’ve curled your arm over where he should be as though you’d sensed his homecoming. 
He shuffles to you in the dark. Pulls back the sheets, and slides under your arm. He finds your hand to hold and brings it slowly to his lips, letting your hand rest over his mouth indulgently. 
He closes his eyes.
After a short case like this one, he isn’t tired enough to forget how much he misses you. If it had been a week away, Aaron would’ve come home and collapsed knowing he’s back with you, and that you’re going to look after him, but it’s only been two days. All he needs now is a kiss.
“Miss you.” 
He clasps his hand over yours, takes your hand to his chest to see you without obstacle. “I missed you, too,” he whispers, though he squints at you after. You aren’t facing him. “Honey?” 
“Aaron…” 
“Yeah, it’s me. You okay?” 
You rub your nose into your pillow and make a nonsense sound. 
Oh, he thinks to himself. Is she…
“D’you– did you have dinner?” 
“Are you awake or not?” he asks. 
No answer. You can’t be awake, then. You’re talking in your sleep, silly disjointed murmurings, your voice like velvet despite the late hour. 
Aaron hasn’t woken you with his questions, so he assumes you’re sleeping deeply. He shuffles further into the bed, onto his side, and wraps an arm around you. Careful in the dark, his nose comes to rest against your cheek.
“Well, we can try again tomorrow.”
“Shh,” he says softly, “shh, honey.” 
“‘Cos of the time,” you mumble.
He breathes in your skin. This is nice, he supposes, sitting and listening to your voice. You don’t even have to wake up. Aaron must spend half an hour listening to you talk yourself, or whoever it is that’s opposite you in the dream. It’s okay, we can fix it. I don’t know what colour that is. It’s Jack’s book. The book. And then your dog will come home. 
He’s nearly sleeping when it runs back to him. “My hubs,” you mumble, hand suddenly alive where it twists under his arm to return his hug. “Miss my hubs.” 
Aaron laughs in earnest. He’s never heard you call him such a thing. “Missed my wife,” he says, giving your cheek a quick kiss. “Love you.” 
“Miss him… want him to rub my back.” 
Your whining is adorable. Aaron pulls you bodily onto his chest and begins to rub your back, smiling, happy to indulge your sleepy nonsense with whatever it is you’re craving. “How’s that?” he murmurs. 
You don’t talk again for a while, but when you do, you say, “He needs to feed the fish,” and Aaron’s left wondering what exactly it is that you and Jack have been up to this weekend. 
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skeltnwrites · 2 days
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The Shape of Family ‧₊˚❀༉
As a single dad, Steve’s world revolves around school drop-offs, bedtime rituals, and tee-ball practices—and he's struggling to keep up. But you're always there, happily lending a hand when he needs it most. / masterlist
part one - you find out your work crush is a dad and offer to watch his mischievous little girl so he can get some work done 5.2k
a/n - penelope is a little shit and i love her dearly, general warnings/tags here
── .✦
“Hey, sorry to bother you, Steve. I just had a quick question– but before I forget, there’s this little girl in the lobby knocking stuff over. Do you know if her parents are here?” 
“Fuck– sorry. One sec.” 
He brushes past you with an urgency that is typical of Steve. As the community outreach coordinator, he’s naturally a busy man. You haven’t known him long– just the couple of months since you became a volunteer for the local rec center– but it’s clear he’s dedicated to his work. Always zipping from one end of the building to the other, juggling class setups, organizing meetings, or hunting down the next thing that needs fixing. He tends to add more to his plate than he can carry, at least according to another staff member, which is why you’ve been assigned to help him. 
You strain to match his long strides and nearly take out a trash can when he turns a corner unexpectedly. But you can’t lose him now– someone is always nearby to steal him for paperwork or performance reviews and all you have is a quick question. 
The lobby unfortunately looks like a tornado blew through the front doors. Cabinets are thrown open, papers are scattered like leaves across the floor, and a chair has been toppled over. And said tornado has her cheek pressed to the vending machine glass, an arm twisted inside the dispenser box to reach for a loose pack of Skittles. The scene is almost amusing until you remember you’ll likely be the one to clean it up. 
“Penelope!” Steve scolds, not loud but stern enough to surprise you. He’s consistently an embodiment of gentleness– always accommodating and rarely assertive. And while he’s still gentle with her, his tone carries a weight and firmness that’s a stark departure from his usual demeanor. 
The girl, Penelope, retracts her arm and spins around to face Steve. And if it wasn’t for the shit-eating grin pinned to her face, you might’ve felt bad for getting her in trouble. 
Steve’s hands snap to his hips. “I asked you to wait in my office.” 
She shrugs, “Need a snack.”
Steve huffs and rakes a hand through his hair– a habit when he’s stressed, which is most of the time it seems. By the end of the day, his hairspray will have been combed out and Steve will argue with the strands that curl over his forehead. 
“You can have one after you clean this up and if you stay in my office.” 
“Candy?”
“No, no candy. There’s snacks in your lunchbox.” He bends to scoop up a few pamphlets to hand to her. “Or I have pretzels. Do you want that?”
She pinches a page between her nails, weighing her options. 
Steve pries tiny fingers off, “Don’t rip those. Put ‘em away please.” 
And she listens for maybe the first time ever, it seems, cramming a stack of them back on the shelf. 
You gather your own stack of handouts and press them into Steve’s sleeve. He recoils a step, his eyes widening before rapidly shutting in a moment of realization. “Sorry! You had a question- I’m sorry.” 
Penelope abandons her organizing to plant herself at Steve’s left like a sidekick– anything to get out of cleaning up. She gazes at you with a familiar pair of almond eyes and then it clicks. Her hair is the same shade of brown and her jaw, though softer, is square shaped like Steve’s. The resemblance is indisputable. 
You redirect your stare to answer Steve. “Um, yeah– I just needed to borrow the storage closet key to grab some more chairs.” 
“Oh, of course.” He pats the front pocket of his jeans. “Keys are in my office– I hope.” 
Steve marches past you once again, a new mission in mind, tugging Penelope by the wrist and toeing a cabinet shut on the way out. Penelope’s poor little legs must be tired if he always walks this fast. 
“I don’t want pretzels,” she eventually decides. 
“Then you can have what’s in your lunchbox.” He glances over his shoulder to confirm you’re in tow, “This is my daughter, Penelope, by the way.” 
“Nice to meet you, Penelope.” You wave, not that she sees. 
A braid sits high on her head, swinging like a horse's tail with each hurried step. Her faded denim overalls ride up slightly, exposing just enough ankle to show off the bubblegum pink Converse on her feet. She’s a cute little thing, button-eyed and puffy-cheeked like a cabbage patch kid. 
Steve nudges her with his hip, “Say hi.”
She throws you an impartial glance. “Hi.” 
When Steve’s office is in sight, Penelope wriggles away from his hold to sprint down the hall. On her tip-toes, she flicks on the light, letting the door slam in Steve’s face. You catch him rolling his eyes as he stops the door with his foot for you. Penelope is clambering onto his chair like it’s a race and pushing off the desk to spin as soon as she’s seated. Steve steers her out of the way to search the drawers, passing you a set of keys when he finds them. 
“Just bring ‘em back, please. Dottie found them in lost and found last week.” 
“Thanks, I will,” you promise, eyes falling over Penelope again. 
It’s your cue to leave, but your feet remain anchored to the floor. Your mind is buzzing with questions that neither of you have the time to discuss. The rational part of you knows you should exit before you let your curiosity win. Yet, you find yourself lingering in the doorway, stalling just long enough for Steve to lift an eyebrow in silent inquiry.
And before you can rule whether or not it's a good idea, you blurt out, “I can keep an eye on her if you want?” 
Penelope peaks over the back of the chair, perched on her knees so she can see. 
Steve shakes his head, “No, it’s okay. You’ve got stuff to do. And Penelope is going to be a better listener for the rest of the day, right?” He ruffles her hair, earning him a glare. 
You bite back a smile. It’s a funny thing, seeing that frown and furrowed brows that resemble Steve’s so clearly because you can’t imagine him making that face at anyone ever. It’s cute, even if it’s meant to be mean, but you would never tell her as much. 
“I really don’t mind. She could help me tape the flyers up– If she wants something to do?” You direct the last part at Penelope. To a kid, being trapped in their dad’s dusty old office is probably boredom purgatory. 
Penelope blinks at you and then Steve for permission. 
“You want to?” He asks.
She nods, then adds, “Snack too?” 
“Yes, honey.” He sighs, faint but deflated, burdened by the guilt of not feeding her sooner. Steve fishes her backpack out from under his desk. A vivid shade of pink with a Barbie patch sewn to the front. Her tin lunchbox is similarly themed and only harbors a bag of fruit snacks. 
“Fruit snacks or pretzels?” 
Penelope’s features pinch in a way that says neither but she snatches the fruit snacks anyway. Decidedly dismissed or over the conversation, she hops off the chair and sees herself out. 
You can’t help the smile that finds your lips as you turn back to Steve.
He chuckles, “It’s been a day. Bring her back if she doesn’t listen. Good luck.” 
Penelope leans against the wall outside, popping a gummy in her mouth lazily. 
“We’re gonna make a pitstop at the supply closet and then you can help me with the flyers.” 
She doesn’t say anything, but she follows as you start walking, and that’s all you need from her. She’s strangely silent for a kid, especially Steve’s kid. Conversation seems to come easy to him, he likes to talk, which is one of the reasons you still can’t believe you didn’t know he had a child. On your first day as a volunteer, he’d crammed that he was on the swim team in high school, that he's from Indiana, and that he prefers the warmer months all in one conversation– the guy is an open book.  
And you’re quiet too because you’re focused on recalling where they put that damned supply closet. The rec center halls all sort of look the same still, bleeding into one jumbled image of wood paneling and old carpet in your mind. The building is practically a maze; constructed in the fifties, it still carries its historic charm—stubborn doors, leaky faucets, and all—issues the city claims they 'can’t afford' to fix. 
Penelope must get tired of going in circles because eventually she tugs on your sleeve and points down the opposite hall you were planning on going. When she leads you right up to the door you beam at her. For a second, she forgets to be brooding and smiles back. 
“You’re a smart little cookie, Penelope. How’d you know it was here?” You ask, unlocking the door. 
She shrugs nonchalantly, “I just know things.”
You laugh loud enough to draw eyes from a nearby meeting and determine Penelope is the funniest kid you’ve ever met. 
She holds the door open at your request, munching on her fruit snacks as you maneuver a stack of chairs into the hall. You make it back to the classroom without her directions, not to toot your own horn. She tosses her empty wrapper in the trash as you unstack the chairs. 
“Here,” you pass her a roll of tape. “Rip some pieces off for me?” 
She nods, ambling over to the wall with you.  
“So, Penelope, how old are you?” You ask, pressing a flyer against the wallpaper. 
She debates, flipping fingers up and down on her free hand before concluding, “Four.” 
“Ohh, very cool. You’re almost ready to go to school with the big kids, huh?” 
“Yes, at the big school. I’m in pre-school.” 
“Mhmm. Do you like preschool?” 
She hums no and strains to tear off a piece. 
“Here, like this,” you demonstrate, pulling in the proper direction. She copies you, ripping a neat line. The corners of her lips raise as she views her handiwork. 
“You don’t like school?” You ask, peering down. 
She hands you the slice of tape. “Only sometimes.” 
“Why only sometimes?” 
She shrugs and heaves a hefty sigh for such little lungs. She’s too small to be sighing like that, you think, and she definitely acquired it from Steve. 
“I only like work sometimes too,” you admit. 
Her eyes chase yours– all innocently wide and filled with disbelief. She rips off another square of tape, “Are your friends not nice?” 
You consider her question, answering truthfully, “Well, maybe sometimes, I guess.” 
“Meg was not a kind friend today.” Her tone is hilariously chastizing for a child. Kids are just like mini adults sometimes– collecting random phrases and mannerisms like trading cards.  
“No? Why’s that?” 
“She wouldn’t share. Daddy always says sharing is caring.” 
“That’s true. Did you tell your teacher?” 
Penelope shakes her head, tilting on her heels.
“Why not?”
“Meg told the teacher on me because I wasn’t being a kind friend either.” 
“Oh. Why weren’t you being a kind friend?” 
“Because I wanted to play with the dolls too,” she mumbles, upset wavering in her voice. To a child, these seemingly trivial matters really do feel like the end of the world, so you can’t help but empathize, even as you wish your worries were confined to sharing toys.
You crouch in front of Penelope, “We still should be kind, hmm? Even when our friends don’t want to share?” 
Penelope’s unconvinced, picking at her nail like the dirt underneath is a more important issue. But you’re at the end of your stack of cardstock and it maybe isn’t your place to have this conversation anyway. 
You get her set up at a table with printer paper and a box of crayons from the closet. She dumps them out immediately, spraying rainbow across her paper so she can find the “bestest” colors.  
“I can share,” she declares, sliding her extra sheet over to your end of the table. 
“That’s very sweet of you. Thank you.” You catch a crayon before it rolls onto the floor. “What should I draw?” 
“I’m coloring my family.” 
“That’s nice. I think I’ll draw a dinosaur.” 
“A dinosaur?” She cocks her head and giggles, bubbly and pure in the way that kids laugh. Your heart aches with happiness. “That’s silly!” 
“What? Why’s that silly?” 
She cackles like this is the funniest idea anyone’s ever had. “They just are!” 
“Hmm. Should I draw a serious dinosaur then?” 
“All dinosaurs are silly– Trevor says so.”
“What! Why does he think that?” 
Her words fuse into one smear of a sound as she shrugs, “I dunno.” 
“Well, my dinosaur is very serious. See?”
She presses into your arm to examine your quick sketch. “That’s not a dinosaur!” 
“It is! You can’t tell?” 
She nibbles on her lip, smile growing as she shakes her head. 
You pull the paper closer, as if a better angle might somehow improve it. “Hmm, I guess it does look a bit like an alien, doesn’t it?”
Penelope giggles and nods enthusiastically before returning to her work. Her crayon moves methodically across the paper, lips pressed together in concentration. After a long spell of silence, she kindly requests, “Can you draw a house?” 
“Of course,” you reply, “On my paper or yours?”
“Mine,” she says, her pointer finger tapping the corner of her sheet with emphasis.
The drawing is a riot of color, blending bold strokes of crayon to create two people and an animal. The taller, presumably Steve, is painted with orange and yellow hues– true to the the warmth he represents. Penelope, doused in cooler tones, carries their floppy-eared pet– a bunny or a dog, maybe? 
“Wow, Penelope! This is amazing!” You genuinely mean it; despite her young age, her talent shines through in little details like eyelashes and a set of heart-shaped earrings. “Is this you and Daddy?”
“Yes, and Cinderella!” she adds proudly.
“Oh, that’s wonderful,” you say, admiring her work. “Is Cinderella your pet?” 
She bobs her head animatedly. 
“Wow, she looks like a very pretty… animal in your drawing.” 
“She is a very pretty cat,” Penelope affirms and you are relieved not to have guessed incorrectly. She stares at you for a long moment. “Is Cinderella family?” 
“Well, does she live with you?”
Penelope scrunches her nose and tips her head, “Sort of?”
“She sort of lives with you?”
“Yeah. She lives outside mostly but sometimes I let her inside.” Her pitch fluctuates as she talks, the words lilting in a strange, almost sing-song cadence that kids do. 
“Ohh,” you smile. “Do you feed Cinderella?”
“Yes, Daddy buys her food in a can and it’s really stinky!” 
Penelope joins you when you laugh. Not because you are but because stinky things are just funny at her age. 
“Do you love Cinderella?” You ask. 
“Yes– except when she bites me.” She sobers quickly, forehead wrinkling. 
“Oh,” you chuckle, “Well, I think she’s family then.” 
“I think so too,” she states seriously, swapping a blue crayon for a green. 
“What color should the house be?” You claw through the rainbow spread.  
“White!” 
“Well, the paper’s already white but how ‘bout I outline the house in black so you know where it is?” 
“I guess so. There’s two windows and the door is red– Oh, and there are lots of flowers outside.” 
You nod, sketching her vision into existence. “Is this your house?” 
“Yes, and Daddy’s. And sometimes Cinderella’s.”
“Just you three? Is that your whole family?” Admittedly, it’s a self-indulgent question. You’re curious about Penelope’s mom. And you noticed Steve doesn’t wear a ring, checked multiple times in the last few weeks even. But that doesn’t refute the possibility he might be seeing someone. 
“Yes, Daddy and Cinderella is my family. Daddy says families come in all shapes and sizes.” 
You’re glowing with a fondness that’s impossible to hide– because everything about her is adorable– her chubby cheeks, her tinkling little laugh, even her attitude, though Steve would probably disagree with the latter. She’s different than Steve in a lot of ways: grumpier and more aloof, but, at her age, it’s cute. And still, she feels like his carbon copy. An echo of everything you’ve come to like about him. 
Him being a dad makes perfect sense in retrospect. To have overlooked such an important part of his life seems silly. A tenderness radiates from Steve, the kind only a parent could possess. He’s full of love– too much not to share. He pours lots into his work: late nights at the center, taking on more than he can chew, always with a smile. And the rest? It must go to Penelope. 
“Your dad is very right about that.” 
She smirks confidently, holding up her artwork, “I’m going to give this to him.”
“I bet he’ll love it so much, Penelope!” 
And his dad senses must be tingling at the mention of his name because his face appears in the door’s slim window not even a minute later. His lips curve into a grin as he realizes he’s been caught spying. 
The door clicks and Penelope turns. “Hi, Daddy.”  
“Hi, baby,” Steve strolls over to the opposite side of the table, “Are you being a good listener?” His attention flicks around the room, searching for any signs of misbehavior. 
Penelope shimmies up tall in her seat and nods until he meets her pleased gaze. 
Steve must believe the girl because he doesn’t press further, but you praise her anyway, “Very good. Penelope’s been an amazing helper this afternoon.” 
“Is that right?” He orbits the table to stand behind her. “What are you drawing, Nell?”
She flips over her paper, clapping the front against the table. “It’s a surprise!”
“Oh, sorry!” He paces back, redirecting his attention to you. “I didn’t see it.” 
Penelope twists around to confirm his eyes are elsewhere before proceeding to squeeze in a final set of details– grass blades and sun rays. “Here,” she thrusts the page into his hands. “For you.” 
“For me?” His face lights up like a Christmas tree before he’s even seen it. She could hand him a pebble, and he’d treasure it like a gem. And when his eyes do fan across the drawing, he melts. 
“This is so lovely!” He coos. “Where did you get all this talent from? This belongs in a museum, Nell!” He keeps his heart from bursting with a steady palm to his chest. And with his free hand, he flashes it at you just long enough to catch a glimpse before he reels it in to study some more. “And you got Cinderella’s stripes too. Wow.” 
He squats behind Penelope’s chair, throwing an arm around her middle, “Thank you for this. And thank you for being a good listener. That makes my heart very happy.” 
She slumps into his chest, peering up at the reflection of her own features. “Is it time to go?” 
His eyes leap to the clock hung on the opposite wall. “Couple more hours, babe.”
Penelope huffs. 
“I’m gonna hang this in my office. I love it so so much!” He sows a couple of kisses on her temple, straining to stand with achy knees. “You wanna come hang out with me or stay here?” 
She looks at you like you might object. “Here.” 
If Steve’s offended, he doesn’t show it. He’s still grinning like the Cheshire cat, high on the parenting win that is receiving willing affection from your child.  “That okay?” He asks you. 
“Of course. I’ll put her to work,” you reassure. 
“Good, keep her busy. It keeps her out of trouble.” He raises the drawing for another look. “I’ll be in my office, doing paperwork, yay.” 
You snicker, as he retraces the path he came. “Have fun with that boss!”
Just before the door slams shut, he yells back, equally playful, “I told you to stop calling me that!”
Penelope doodles some more, gifting you a vibrant rendition of the night sky– a collection of stars and circles and swirls. You’re so grateful you tell her it’ll go on your fridge, and it does as soon as you’re home. She sorts through toys and equipment in the gym closet and even holds your dustpan when you sweep. Her role as your helper is taken very seriously. 
The two hours pass faster than you expect. Time flies when you're having fun, as Steve would say. All his little phrases and cheesy jokes suddenly make sense in the context of him being a dad. 
She takes your hand on the way to Steve’s office, escorting you when you pretend not to know which direction it’s in. It’s as comforting as it is validating; winning the kindness and attention of four-year-olds, especially this one, is difficult. You knock on the wood frame even though the door’s propped open. 
Steve peaks up through a rare pair of reading glasses. Round, wireframes that match the golden shade his hair assumes when it catches the light. They highlight his eyes—warm and gentle as a summer breeze. But he swipes them off his nose, folding them with practiced care. 
A smile mends his frown as Penelope climbs into his lap. “Hi, sweetheart.” 
She wiggles into a comfortable position, nudging his chest until he reclines further to make space. “Hi.”
“Are you having fun?” Steve cradles her shin to keep her from slipping. “What have you been up to?”
“Cleaning.” Her tone is casual, dismissive even, like it’s nothing to fuss over; but her eyes are fixed on him, waiting for a reaction. 
Steve gasps, “No way! You were cleaning? I don’t know if I believe it.” 
“I was!” Penelope whines, tickled with glee. 
“Hmm, is this true?” He arches an eyebrow at you. 
You nod, delighted to play along. “It is. Penelope here is excellent at handling a dustpan. She even organized the dodgeballs by color.”
“Really? Because you never-ever want to clean at home.”
“I do!” She squeals, bending backward over the arm of his chair.
“Yeah right.” He blows a raspberry on her belly where her shirt has pinched up.
She shrieks, squirming and kicking her heels into his thigh. Steve’s dad reflexes must clock in because he blocks her knee just before it drives into his cheek. And he takes it as a sign to ease up before someone gets hurt– craning back up and scooping Penelope into a baby cradle against his chest. Her legs are long and lanky, dangling over his arms like uncooked spaghetti. 
“Do we need to invite them over every time you make a mess in your room? Will that solve the problem?” He teases, squishing her arms against his shirt so she can’t escape and peppering kisses from temple to temple. 
Eventually, Penelope comes to terms that no amount of writhing will succeed against his strength. She slackens in his embrace, surrendering to the terrible thing that is unconditional love. 
“Oh, here are your keys!” They rattle against the desk where you drop them. 
Steve nods into Penelope's crown, poking her side. “Can you say ‘thank you for hanging out with me?’”
Anticipating another round of tickles, she grins before parroting, “Thank you for hanging out with me.”
“Thank you for helping me clean!”
Her eyes sweep back over to Steve, “Can we go home yet?” 
His fingers tap rhythmically on the desk, a small sigh escaping as he glances at the paperwork drowning his workspace. “We’ll leave as soon as I’m finished.” He pecks the top of her head. “Promise.”
She rolls her eyes, moaning, “Daddy, come on it’s taking, like, a million years!”
“A million? Surely not.” 
“It is!” She elongates the sound until it’s less word and more noise. 
His shoulders droop, tension slipping from his frame as he agrees, “Okay. I’m ready to go too.” 
You don’t blame him for giving in so easily, Penelope’s puppy eyes are powerful. Her chunky little hands smoosh his cheeks– molding and kneading like it’s play-doh, “Is that why your face looks so sleepy?”
A hearty laugh bursts from his throat, “Yes, that’s why my face looks so sleepy.” He pats her arms, “Come on. Up.” 
Penelope scoots off his knees, gripping his wrist for balance. Steve ducks under the desk for his backpack and shoves the stack of paperwork inside. 
“Hey, I meant to ask you, is the new schedule working okay for you?” He asks you, always so thoughtful. 
You nod earnestly. “Yeah, actually, I like doing Fridays better I think.”
“Yeah, Fridays are fun. Fitness Friday has been a big hit with the high school's soccer team.” He slings his bag over his shoulder and lifts Penelope’s by the strap. 
“Oh, good! Did the new jump ropes come in?” Conversations like this, as mundane as they are, are fleeting– the next interruption always around the corner– so you savor it while you have him. 
“Mmmm, not yet. I think they’re coming next week– shipping delays or something.” 
You turn to leave but stop in your tracks, attention stolen by Penelope’s drawing. As promised, it’s hung up– a few pieces of scotch tape secure it to the wall across from his desk. 
“I’m gonna get a frame for it,” Steve passes you with a toothy smile, flicking off the light. 
Penelope chimes in before you can respond, “Can I play jump rope?”
“I don't know if you know how, babe. I can teach you.” 
“I can! I did at school!”
“You did? I didn’t know that.” Steve waves to a passing coworker. “Maybe we’ll buy one for home too then.” 
Penelope nods, hopping the last stretch to the front door. 
“Any fun plans this weekend?” Steve asks you outside, bumping the back of Penelope’s hand until she takes his. The parking lot is almost empty at this time of day, but a few stragglers remain inside after hours. 
“If you think laundry is fun, then sure.” 
“Oh, I know all about that, trust me.” He nods at Penelope, “This one goes through more clothes in a week than I do in a month.” 
Steve approaches a BMW, only a few spots over from your car. An older model, but well taken care of. It’s a nice shade of burgundy with a stick-figure family on the back windshield. It feels so him. 
You hum a happy sound. “What about you? Any plans?” 
“Besides laundry? Well, we’re actually going kayaking at Red Fleet tomorrow,” he unlocks the passenger door, tucking the backpacks in the footwell. 
“Oh, fun! Are you excited?” You ask Penelope. 
“I’m gonna look for frogs.” 
She wrenches the handle a few times before her door flies open. Steve intercepts mid-swing to prevent her from denting the neighboring truck at the expense of his fingers. 
“Ow– shit,” he grimaces, shaking his wrist. He visibly swallows any other swears when he sees Penelope gawking, “Nell, I’ve told you to be gentle with the door.” 
“You said we can’t say that word,” she points out, climbing into her car seat.
You scrub your mouth, not so inconspicuously erasing your smile. 
“I– yes,” he nods, “You’re right. We shouldn’t say that word. I just–”
“Even when we’re frustrated; that’s what you said!” 
Steve takes a deep breath through his nose, choking down his several feelings. She’s right, he did say that, to hopefully stop her from swearing at preschool, but the profanity policing is comical coming from a four-year-old. And he can’t be laughing right now– he has parenting to do– but he’s on the verge of breaking when he catches sight of your face.  
Steve collects himself as he buckles her in. “Yes, Penelope. I shouldn’t have said it. I’m sorry.” 
She pats his head, “It’s okay. We all do mistakes.” 
Steve softens. The irritation evaporates instantly, replaced by a surge of satisfaction. This is one of those rare moments where he can so clearly recognize the lessons he’s instilled taking shape. 
He lets himself chuckle then, “We do. We all make mistakes and that’s okay.” 
She nods as he tightens her straps, “Like when I spilled my juice this morning.”
“Exactly.” He triple-checks that all her limbs are safely out of the door’s reach before shutting it.  
He faces you, scratching his cheek– rosy and round with joy. “How much you wanna bet she swears at me tomorrow?”
“Hey, I don’t doubt it!” Your elation mirrors his. 
“If she can’t find any frogs at the park I can almost guarantee it.” 
“Better help her look then.” 
“Yeah, yeah. I’d invite you but it’s reservation-based. And I’d be surprised if there’s any spots open still… But we can sneak you in if you really want to go.” It’s meant to be a joke, but something in the way he holds your gaze suggests a level of seriousness. 
“No, that’s okay,” you grin. “The pile of laundry on my bed awaits.”
“Well, maybe next time.” 
You try not to read into it. Steve’s a friendly guy, he probably invites his coworkers out to things all the time. 
You nod, idling at the hood of his beamer. 
“I really appreciate you watching her today. You’re a lifesaver, truly,” he shakes his head, peeking at Penelope through the window. “She’s been a handful lately– I mean, I had to pick her up early today because she bit another kid, can you believe that?” 
“She’s a kid,” you shrug, “All kids do that at some point.”  
“I don’t know,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “I’m honestly at my witts end. This is her third warning and if she gets kicked out of school— I don’t know what I’ll do.” 
“From what I saw today, she’s a really good kid, Steve. I can’t imagine they’d do that.” 
“I’ve just been so busy, you know, sometimes I wonder if she acts out because of that– and it’s just me so I can’t–” he pauses, wiping his face, “God– I’m sorry, you’re… I’m just dumping all of this on you when you’re trying to leave.”
“No! It’s okay, I don’t mind, really.” 
“It’s– Well, it’s a lot and I,” he’s cut short by Penelope knocking on the glass, impatience strewn across her features. 
He throws up his pointer finger to tell her one second. “We can talk next week. You’ll be here Friday?” 
“Yep. I will see you then,” you nod, backing up a step so he can cross over to the driver’s side. 
“Okay, thanks again,” he says, opening his door. 
You wave goodbye, “Of course. Have fun kayaking!” 
“You too!” He yells, then mumbles, “Shit.” 
“Dad!” Penelope’s voice scolds. 
A warmth simmers in your chest as you walk away– a fizzy feeling that had been bottled up and crammed into a forgotten corner of your body. But as soon as you’re settling into the privacy of your car, it boils over into this rush of giddy exhilaration, electrifying every inch of your skin. Giggles cut through the silence as your smile stretches wider, completely untamable. There’s no stopping this, not when you’re already fantasizing about a next time with Steve.
446 notes · View notes
mcrdvcks · 1 day
Text
Sweet Nothing
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Summary: Mornings were Logan's favorite part of the day.
Word Count: 2.6k+
Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x fem!reader
Notes: i came up with this idea yesterday when i took a nap instead of writing an essay for my energy policy class. this is my first time writing smut for logan so any critiques are welcome!
warnings/tags: no use of y/n, porn with no plot, pet names (baby, sweetheart), unprotected piv, creampie, not proofread
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You were like a cat, practically purring into his neck as you slept peacefully, your arm around his chest and your leg hoisted around his stomach.
But Logan wouldn’t trade it for anything, not when he could watch your chest rise and fall steadily, your bare body pressed up against his own.
Logan’s arm tightened around your waist, the weight of you grounding him. He loved the way your breath hitched when he shifted, your skin pressed flush against his. "Mm, baby," his voice came out low, almost a growl, lips brushing against your forehead. His fingers grazed your bare hip, pulling you tighter against his side.
Your leg slipped further up his body, your thigh brushing his stomach, every part of you tangled with him. His chest rumbled, the warmth of your skin driving him wild. He couldn't help but dip his head, nuzzling the soft spot just beneath your ear, breathing you in, "Can’t get enough of you like this," he murmured, his hand roaming down your spine.
A sleepy smile tugged at your lips as you shifted, nuzzling closer into his neck, the feeling of his stubble grazing your cheek sending shivers down your body. The heat of the morning sun was nothing compared to the heat between the two of you, the sheets a tangled mess beneath you both, the air thick with something else entirely.
Logan’s rough hand slid lower, finding the curve of your ass, fingers splaying across the soft flesh. "Always gotta be all over me, don’t you, sweetheart?" His voice was thick with need, each word a low, gravelly tease as he squeezed, hard enough to make you hum softly into his neck. He loved the way you responded to his touch, every sound you made driving him deeper into the moment.
You shifted again, your hips rolling instinctively against him, and that was it. Logan’s breath hitched, his cock stirring against your thigh. He let out a quiet grunt, rough fingertips grazing the inside of your thigh, teasing your skin with lazy circles. "You keep that up, baby," he warned, voice darker now, more possessive, "and I’m not gonna be able to hold back."
Your eyes flickered open just a bit, catching the hungry look in his eyes, the way his jaw clenched as he gripped your ass harder. You couldn’t help but smile, that playful, knowing smirk. You knew exactly what you were doing. And so did he.
Logan groaned, his hand slipping between your legs, fingers brushing the heat between your thighs. "Fuck, you're soaked," he rasped, fingers gliding over your folds, teasing you just enough to make you squirm. "Needy already, huh? Such a good girl for me."
You whined softly, your hips pushing back against his hand, desperate for more. But Logan wasn’t about to let you have it that easy. He kept his touch feather-light, teasing, dragging his fingers over you just enough to drive you insane.
Logan’s fingers teased along your wet folds, barely brushing the surface, just enough to make you whine again, hips rolling forward, desperate for more than just a teasing touch. "Needy little thing, aren't you?" he murmured, voice a gravelly rasp that sent shivers down your spine. His breath, hot and thick against your ear, only added to the tension building between your legs.
You pressed yourself harder against his hand, a soft, pleading moan slipping from your lips. "Logan," you whispered, the word coming out like a prayer, breathless, full of need. He chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against your neck as he nuzzled deeper into the crook, stubble scraping your skin in that way that always drove you wild.
"Patience, sweetheart," Logan muttered, his fingers finally dipping between your slick folds, parting them with agonizing slowness. His touch was firm, yet still teasing, fingers gliding through your wetness, but never quite giving you the pressure you were aching for. His thumb circled your clit, slow, lazy movements that had you squirming in his arms, a quiet whimper escaping your throat.
You gasped, grinding against him, desperate for more friction, more anything. His body was a solid, immovable wall, warm and grounding, but that teasing hand had you on edge. "Fuck, Lo," you moaned, barely able to keep still, your hips rocking against his touch. Logan’s other arm tightened around you, holding you in place, his lips grazing your ear.
"That’s it. Keep making those sweet little noises for me," he growled, fingers sliding down to circle your entrance, teasing just enough to have your breath hitching. He pressed the tip of one finger inside you, just enough to feel how wet you were for him. "So fucking wet already," he murmured, his lips pressing against your neck, teeth grazing lightly. "You want it bad, don’t you?"
You nodded frantically, the need building in your core, hips pushing back against him. His finger slid in deeper, slow and deliberate, making you squirm even more. "God, Logan, please," you begged, your voice thick with desperation, body trembling with want. You could feel his cock pressing against your thigh, throbbing with need just like you.
He chuckled again, low and dark, before adding a second finger, curling them inside you, finally giving you that delicious pressure you’d been craving. Your back arched, a moan ripping from your throat as your walls clenched around his fingers. "There you go," he muttered, his voice rough as gravel. "Take what you need, baby."
You were a mess, grinding against his hand, your body moving on instinct. His fingers moved faster now, pumping in and out of you, slick and wet, the sound filling the room. His thumb pressed harder against your clit, rubbing in tight circles that had you gasping, your body tensing as you climbed higher, faster.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he growled into your ear, his breath hot against your skin. His hips rocked against you, his hard cock pressing insistently against your thigh. "Gonna make you come all over my fingers before I even think about giving you anything more."
The knot in your stomach tightened, your entire body trembling, on the edge, so fucking close. Logan knew exactly what he was doing, his fingers curling just right inside you, his thumb relentless on your clit, pushing you closer and closer. "Come on, baby," he urged, his voice dark and commanding. "I want to feel you come for me."
His words sent you over the edge, your body shuddering as the orgasm ripped through you, a cry spilling from your lips. Your walls clenched around his fingers, your hips bucking against his hand as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you.
Logan didn’t stop, his fingers still working you through it, prolonging the sensation, his other arm holding you tight against him as you rode out the high. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body trembling, oversensitive and overstimulated, but still craving more. You wanted him.
"Fuck, sweetheart," he muttered, pulling his fingers out of you, wet and glistening. He brought them up to your lips, brushing them against your mouth, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Taste yourself," he growled softly.
Without hesitation, you opened your mouth, sucking his fingers in, tasting your own slickness on his skin. Logan groaned, his eyes dark with desire as he watched you, the heat between you both palpable. His fingers slid from your lips with a wet pop, leaving your mouth craving more.
Before you could even catch your breath, Logan shifted, rolling you onto your back with ease, his weight pressing you into the sheets. His body hovered over yours, his chest brushing against your breasts as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, hungry kiss. His tongue swept into your mouth, tasting, claiming, while his hand trailed down your side, fingers tracing the curve of your waist.
"Fuck, you taste so sweet," he muttered against your lips, his breath hot, sending a shiver down your spine. His hand slipped lower, finding your thigh, lifting your leg to wrap around his waist. The pressure of his hips settled between your legs, his hard cock brushing against your soaked entrance, teasing you with the promise of what was to come.
Logan moved slowly, his hips rocking just enough for you to feel the length of him dragging against your folds, the friction making you gasp, your hands clenching in the sheets. "Shit, baby, you’re dripping for me," he growled, his voice thick with need, as he ground his hips harder, the tip of his cock pressing lightly against your clit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you.
You bucked your hips, desperate for more, your body aching for him to fill you. "Please, Lo," you breathed, your voice trembling with desire. "Need you inside me."
A low, feral groan rumbled from his chest as he nudged your legs wider, positioning himself at your entrance. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense, filled with a hunger that made your heart race. Slowly, torturously, he pushed in, stretching you inch by inch, filling you completely. The sensation of him inside you, thick and hot, made your head spin, a soft whimper escaping your lips.
"Fuck," Logan hissed, his jaw clenched as he buried himself to the hilt, his body still for a moment as he savored the feel of you wrapped tight around him. "You feel so fucking good, sweetheart." His hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he began to move, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, the rhythm steady but deliberate.
You moaned softly, your hands sliding up his back, nails dragging across his skin as he set a slow, sensual pace, his cock gliding in and out of you with maddening precision. "Logan," you gasped, your back arching off the bed, the pleasure building steadily with each thrust. "Fuck... that feels so good."
Logan's mouth found your neck, his lips trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin, his teeth grazing your pulse. "I know, baby," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear as his hips rocked into you, deep and slow, every movement calculated to drive you insane. His hands roamed over your body, fingers squeezing your ass as he angled his hips just right, hitting that perfect spot inside you that made your toes curl.
Your breath hitched, a broken moan slipping from your lips as you wrapped your legs tighter around him, pulling him closer, needing more. Logan growled low in his throat, his thrusts becoming more insistent, his cock driving into you harder, deeper, each one sending a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body.
"Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me," he groaned, his voice rough and thick with desire. His hand slid between your bodies, fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles that had you gasping, your hips grinding against his, desperate for more friction. "Come for me, sweetheart," he growled, his thumb pressing harder against your clit, his thrusts growing rougher, faster. "I want to feel you come around my cock."
You could barely breathe, the pleasure building to a fever pitch, every nerve in your body on fire as his fingers worked your clit, his cock pounding into you with just the right rhythm. It was too much, the heat, the pressure, his low growls in your ear driving you over the edge. With a strangled cry, your body tensed, your walls clenching around him as the orgasm ripped through you, your vision going white as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you.
"Fuck, yes," Logan groaned, his pace faltering as he felt you tighten around him, his cock twitching inside you. With one final thrust, he buried himself deep, his body shaking as his release hit, spilling inside you with a low, guttural moan. He held you tight, his breath ragged against your neck, his body trembling with the aftershocks.
For a long moment, the only sound was your mingled breathing, bodies entwined, his weight a comforting pressure holding you to the bed. Logan's lips hovered over yours, brushing them softly, like a lingering promise. His rough fingers skimmed along your side, tracing the dips of your waist, as if savoring the way your body still hummed from the intensity.
He shifted beside you, the warm length of him pressing into your skin, a quiet rumble in his chest as he nuzzled your neck again, his stubble scraping against your pulse. "Still with me, sweetheart?" Logan's voice was low, teasing, his mouth ghosting over your jawline. The rasp of his tone sent another shiver down your spine, even though your body was still heavy from release.
"Mmhmm," you murmured, barely able to form a coherent word, your breath catching as his lips trailed lower, grazing the soft skin just under your ear. Logan chuckled, the sound vibrating against your skin, as his hand slid down, resting on your thigh, fingers splayed out across your skin.
He pulled back enough to meet your eyes, the intensity in his gaze making your pulse quicken again. His thumb rubbed absentminded circles into your skin, like he needed the physical connection just as much as you did. "You really wore me out this time," he teased, smirking that cocky grin of his, though the hunger in his eyes hadn’t fully faded.
Your fingers slid into his hair, tugging him back down toward you. "Don’t act like you didn’t love every second of it," you shot back, breathless but smiling.
Logan chuckled, low and deep, dipping down to kiss you again, slow and deliberate, savoring the way your lips felt against his. "Damn right," he muttered between kisses. "Could stay like this forever."
For a moment, the world outside the room felt distant, forgotten, the only thing that mattered was the heat between your bodies, the steady rhythm of your breaths, and the soft warmth of the tangled sheets beneath you. Logan's fingers skimmed your hip, then slipped around to cup your ass, squeezing gently, making you hum softly in response.
"You're a handful, you know that?" His voice was thick with affection, despite the rough edge to it.
"Mm, you love it," you teased, a grin tugging at your lips as your fingers traced the hard lines of his shoulders.
"Yeah, I do," he growled, his lips pressing harder against yours. "Too much sometimes." His breath fanned across your face as he spoke, and you could feel the steady beat of his heart, matching your own.
Logan's hand slid up your back, pulling you closer to him, his chest warm and solid against yours. For once, the urgency had faded, replaced with something slower, deeper—like he didn’t want to let go of this moment, this feeling. "You good?" he asked, voice quieter now, more tender.
You nodded, resting your forehead against his, your hands curling around his arms, holding onto him like you never wanted to let go. "Yeah," you whispered, feeling the weight of the day melt away with him there beside you.
"Good," he murmured, kissing the top of your head, the gentleness of the gesture at odds with the wild, raw passion from earlier. But that was Logan- rough and intense, but capable of surprising softness when it came to you.
His hand settled on the small of your back, pulling you flush against him again as he let out a long, contented sigh. The steady rise and fall of his chest was soothing, grounding, as you drifted into the comfort of the moment, his warmth wrapping around you like a shield from the world outside.
"Stay here," he rumbled, his voice barely more than a growl, but there was something deeper in his tone, something protective.
You smiled softly against his chest, fingers tracing idle patterns along his skin. "Always."
377 notes · View notes
archangeldyke-all · 3 days
Note
more plug sev pls ☹️ it can be like almost anything just pLEASE
heheheheheh gonna combine this
giving Sevika sloppy head 🙂‍↕️ under a desk...or.....in a public space
men and minors dni
sevika looks so fucking good right now.
she's got enough regular customers for her to not need to go to parties to sell much anymore, but from time to time she'll get an invite to a party she just can't turn down.
she's dragged you along-- insisting that she's horrible at socializing without you, despite the fact that she's got a crowd of partygoers cackling at her jokes and stories right now.
you're watching from the couch, a small smile playing at your lips as you watch your girlfriend easily work a crowd. her henley sleeves are tugged up around her forearms, her hair is loose and brushing her cheeks, and her fingers are quickly rolling up a few joints for the crowd.
she looks up, her eyes finding yours across the room immediately, a shy smile on her lips when she catches you staring. she nods her head, trying to summon you toward her, and you go easily, moving through the crowds of people to wrap your arm around her waist while she wraps hers around your shoulders.
"what're you starin' at, huh?" she asks. you snort.
"there's a really hot weed dealer here."
sevika grins and ducks her head. "shut up." she mumbles. you giggle and kiss her cheek.
for a few minutes, you help her roll joints and count cash, snatching one for the pair of you to share, the two of you getting gigglier in the corner as you slowly smoke it between customers. but as the night gets later, more people start dancing and drinking, and pretty soon you and sevika are all alone in your little corner.
"so..." you start, trailing your hands up sevika's arms to grope her biceps. she smirks at you.
"so?"
"so... you think i got a shot with that dealer?" you ask. sevika giggles and swoops in to kiss you. it's far too sweet and chaste for your taste-- but you'll change that soon enough.
"baby, i think you got that dealer wrapped around your finger." she says. you grin and kiss her again.
"you look way too fuckin' good tonight, y'know." you mumble against her lips. she chuckles.
"yeah, my girlfriend helped dress me." she says. you smirk.
"she's got good taste."
you've both started swaying to the music, and you trail your hands down to grab sevika's hips, slowly pushing her further and further away from the crowd. "and where exactly are we going?" she asks. you giggle.
"well... you've got a few options. we could go out to the back patio, there's a few people out there you haven't met yet."
"or?" sevika asks. you grin.
"or we could go to the bathroom so i can get my fucking mouth on you-- show you how crazy you drive me."
sevika gulps, then she grabs your wrist and drags you down the hallway. you cackle the entire way.
it takes a few tries to find an empty room. there's couples hooking up everywhere-- drunk girls crying in the bathroom and people making out in the supply closets-- but eventually you find an empty bathroom.
you pull sevika in by her belt loops, slamming her against the door as you fiddle with her belt buckle, launching forward to slam your mouth against hers. sevika whimpers against your mouth and you sigh sweetly. "i fuckin' love you." you say.
sevika smiles as you start to kneel before her, tugging her pants and boxers down her thighs. "fuck. i love you too, baby."
for a moment, the weed and the sight of sevika's wet cunt overwhelm you. you're stuck in place, your mouth going dry and your head getting fuzzy as you admire her.
"take a picture, it'll last longer." sevika giggles. you huff and pinch her thigh.
"i have pictures-- none of them are as pretty as the real thing."
"fuck off." sevika shudders, pulling a joint out from behind her ear and putting it between her lips. you kiss her happy trail, your eyes locked on hers while she lights up, watching in fascination as she blows the smoke out of her nostrils.
"gimmie a hit." you demand. sevika chuckles and rolls her eyes, but places the joint between your lips regardless. you take a quick hit, then kiss her knuckles.
"thought you wanted to get your mouth on me." she mutters as she pulls the joint back up to her mouth. you giggle.
"feelin' needy?"
"'course i am. got a beautiful girl on her knees in fronta me." she says, gently swiping your cheek. you smile.
"i'll take care of you, sev. you just stand there 'n look pretty." you say with a wink. sevika snorts, then cuts herself off with a moan when you dive forward and start eating her out.
fuck she tastes good. she's soaking wet too. you groan against her and she lets out a curse, her head falling back against the door and her hands threading through your hair.
"shit, baby, you're so fuckin' good at this. couldn't wait 'til we got home, huh?" she teases. you giggle a bit.
"not when you look so good." you say before diving back in. sevika moans.
with the weed in your system and sevika in your mouth you easily lose yourself in making your girlfriend fall apart above you. the sweet moans and grunts she's letting out are like music to your ears, and you can feel her cum and your drool starting to trail down your chin. you don't care. all you care about is the sweet twitch of sevika's thigh as she gasps and bucks into your mouth.
"f-fuck, baby, you're makin' me all messy." sevika whines.
you groan against her cunt, nodding up at her. "i love it." you mumble between kisses and sucks. sevika huffs.
"shit, i'm gonna cum. you look so fuckin' cute on your knees-- my cum all over your face-- fuck baby, you've been wantin' this all night?" she asks. you moan and nod against her.
there's a knock on the door and sevika jumps. you don't stop, just diving back in for more of her as she scrambles to get herself under control enough to shout. "just-- just a minute!"
you chuckle against her and she smacks a hand over her mouth to muffle her moan, flicking your forehead.
"i gotta pee!" a drunk voice calls through the door.
"well do a lap around the house and find a different bathroom!" sevika growls, her voice squeaking halfway through when you sink a finger inside her. she glares down at you. you just chuckle and press against her g-spot, smirking as she shivers.
"some fuckin' people." the drunk outside the bathroom huffs as they walk away.
sevika snaps her head back as she cums, her skull hitting the door, her fingers scratching your scalp, the joint falling from her parted lips and landing on the bathroom floor. you chuckle, dodging the joint to lick up every drop of cum that you can.
sevika's got hearts in her eyes when you finally pull away with a gasp to blink up at her.
"you okay?" you ask with a giggle.
sevika doesn't respond. instead, she swoops down, grabs you and the joint, and pulls you up into her arms, kissing you passionately. you gasp against her lips, and she groans at the taste of herself.
"let's get outta here. i made like six hundred bucks tonight-- i'll take you anywhere you like."
you giggle. "home? for some cuddles?" you request. sevika melts at your request and wraps you up in a hug.
"'s long as i can repay the favor once we're in bed." she mumbles against you. you laugh and nod, and pull the bathroom door open.
there's a line of about five people waiting when you stumble out into the hall, and they all boo and groan as you and sevika walk out.
you just laugh as sevika flips them off. "you're just mad none of you have a girlfriend like mine!" she yells.
you muffle your cackles against her shoulder.
taglist!
@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner
@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther
@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai
@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette
@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp
@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen
@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom
246 notes · View notes
asharasasylum · 2 days
Text
A Heavy Hand
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authors note: this is another fic i've manage to find from my old blog and edited for a repost. my first dark rafe fic so i hope you all like. warnings: non con. dub con. step-cest. degrading. smut. 18+
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Rafe's hand on your thigh was heavy, impossible to get off no matter how many times you had tried. It wasn’t like you could make a scene at the dinner table with so many people around, Rafe would only find a way to weasel himself in a lie to your parents. 
Normally they would believe you over him but lately you had been acting up, hanging out with the wrong crowd of people and Rafe had been the one to rat you out to your parents.
After everything with Sarah, your mother was livid to find out you had been hanging around the cut. But your step dad, it had cut his already open wound deep to think he could have another daughter that would abandon him in his time of need. You were house bound until they knew they could trust you again, making Rafe the main person to watch over you. 
He seemed to be awfully happy about that. His lips had twisted into a smirk when your parents turned their backs away. The same one that adorned his face now as his hand shifted a little higher up your bare thigh.
You had to clamp your thighs together, crossing your legs over to make sure Rafe couldn't go any further. With that the smile dropped from his face, his face turning to you now with an uneasy stare. He didn't seem upset, no his expression seemed like he was challenging you as he leaned in closer.
"I'm going to need that hand back if I'm going to eat," Rafe whispered, raising his eyebrows at you.
There was no arguing that so with a slight bit of hesitation you unwrapped your legs, giving him the room to move his hand away. But of course you shouldn't of trusted Rafe because the second he had space, his hand slipped higher, pinky finger grazing the fabric of your underwear.
"Rafe," you yelped, thighs clamping down again.
"Y/N," Ward called across the table, looking over to the pair of you. His tone was stern and his glare was heavy as if he was warning you to not to act out of line again.
"We were just messing around," Rafe was quick to reply, playing the best older brother. One you had never seen in your years of growing up around him. "It was my fault, Dad." 
Ward brushed it off, nodding his head and turning back to his guests.
"That didn't go well for you," Rafe's voice was low as he spoke against the shell of your ear. "Going to have to start behaving a bit better if you want them to trust you again."
"Go to hell," you hissed at him, digging your nails into the flesh of his hand, hoping to pry it away.
All you did was make it worse for yourself, hoping by parting your legs slightly you would be able to force his hand away but instead he used it to his advantage. His hand cupped your covered pussy, rubbing his fingers over the material for a second, before finally pulling away. But the second was long enough to see the way your lips parted in gasp at the invasive touch. 
It was also enough for that smirk to be plastered on Rafe's face all over again. As if he had won some sort of game, that you didn't realise you had been playing.
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"Aren't you happy to have a little bit of freedom?"
"It's not really freedom when I'll be hovering around you and your dick head friends all night," you retorted, rolling your eyes.
Rafe was amused by your response, it seemed he was amused by everything you did these days. The sort of amusement he derived from having some sort of control over you and your life.
You wanted to be anywhere but in his truck driving to the beach with him. But Rafe had somehow convinced Ward that under his supervision you would be fine out and about. He'd make sure not to let you out of his sight, he had swore to that.
"Fresh air, the ocean, drinks," Rafe listed, tapping on the steering wheel. "Isn't that what the sort of things Pogues like?"
"I'm pretty sure everyone from Outerbanks likes those things, Rafe," you said, crossing your arms over your chest. "It’s just I don't think some enjoy it so much when they’re being monitored by their older brother who they don't get along with."
"Step-brother," Rafe was quick to snap, tone icy as he glared at the road ahead.
"Your dad is married to my mum so legally we are siblings," your voice picked up, finally ready to let your weeks worth of rage out on him. "Step siblings or not it doesn't give you the right to touch me the way you have."
"Acting like you don't like it," Rafe sneered under his breath, gripping the steering wheel tighter.
You barely heard him and as much as you were gearing yourself up to yell at him some more, to get him to repeat what he had just said, he was quick to cut you off.
"No running off today," Rafe barked at you with a pointed finger like you were some dog. "In my line of sight at all times. A Pogue even looks in your direction and you come stand by me. Understand?"
You didn't even dignify him with a response, rolling your eyes once again.
But Rafe wasn't here for your attitude and he made that clear by pinching your cheeks with his hand and twisting your face towards him. "Understand?"
"Yeah," you nodded, voice faltering at his stern tone. "Whatever."
Rafe took a second before letting your face go, holding you in place for a moment as he took in the sight of your body. You felt a cool shiver across your body at the way Rafe checked you out, his jaw clenching once it reached where your skirt cut off at your thighs.
"Pretty thing," Rafe commented, not giving you a moment to respond as he hopped out his truck.
You hated the way he called you that as if you were some sort of play thing he already had in his pocket. But more importantly you hated the way it made you feel, heat flooding your body at the words.
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At all times of the night there were eyes on you, if they weren't Rafe's eyes, they were Topper's or Kelce's. You were sure he had told them of your rendezvous with the other side of the island, making it clear you were to be watched at all times.
It was no use anyway with Rafe so close no Pogue dared to step within a hundred metre radius of your spot. Which you hadn't really minded anyway, spending most of the time drinking with a few friends you had gone to school with.
The party even seemed enjoyable for most of the night, everything going smoothly even with Rafe's eyes staring daggers into your back. Until you broke his rules, slipping away for a second to get a refill on your drink.
You hadn't really been thinking when you tried to search down another keg, not even realising that you had slipped away from Rafe and his friends when you finally found one still in use. No you didn't realise until a familiar warm smile came into sight, arms wrapping around you without even giving you a chance to register they were there.
"I've missed you so much," Sarah gleamed, pulling you tight into her chest. "I didn't know when I would see you again."
You reciprocated the hug, glad to see your sister after a few weeks of no contact. Happy to know that she was still doing somewhat alright.
"I've missed you too," you replied, finally letting go over each other.
"Why haven't I seen you in ages?" Sarah asked, genuinely concerned as her eyes widened at you.
"I'm house bound mostly," you told her, frowning at the subject. "Courtesy of Rafe." It was only then did you realise you had stumbled away from him, eyes darting round not able to see him anywhere. "Fuck."
"Hey, you know you really should be careful around Rafe," Sarah's voice was shaken, fearful as she spoke. "He's dangerous."
"He's psychotic, I'll give him that," you laughed, not bothering to look around for him anymore. "And I sure bet he's going to have a field day when he finds me here."
"No, seriously Y/N.” Sarah's hand grips onto your wrist harshly, bringing your attention back to her. "You shouldn't be anywhere near him."
"You sound crazy, Sarah," you told her, eyebrows furrowing at her fearful state. "What happened?"
There wasn't enough time to answer when the rest of her friends showed up behind her. They gave you a small smile but John B was quick to place his hand out for Sarah to take.
"Let's go," he said, pulling her away.
"Well bye then," you waved her off, scoffing at the way they all just walked away.
An uneasiness settled in your stomach as you made your way back to where Rafe might still be, your drink long forgotten once you finally reached him.
You didn't know how to read Rafe when he found you, his body tense once he reached you. But there was a cool demeanour about him, a sort of façade you were sure he was putting up as he stood before you. 
"Truck, now," he snapped, placing a hand on the small of your back as he guided you through the crowd.
You didn't even know what to prepare yourself for when you got back to the car, but when you were out of sight of the crowd you weren't surprised when Rafe gripped onto your arm to drag you back to the truck.
"You really can't follow simple rules.” Rafe's tone was something you never had heard before and at first you really couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. "Have to wander off to go find some Pogue to open your legs for? I bet you love being a little slut for them, huh?"
"I am not a slut," you yelled at him, slapping against his chest with your hand. "It wasn't even like that."
"Tell me exactly what it was like. Tell me how it took you like three drinks to go in search for some attention like the whore you are." Rafe gripped onto you harder, as if the thought of it was making him angrier. "I bet that's all you need some dick and some attention, then you won't go crawling back to your beloved Pogues."
"It isn't like that," you screamed, feeling yourself become choked up from the comments he was making. You didn't even know why you felt such a need to defend yourself against him.
It was only as his icy blue gaze fell on you that you finally pinpointed the reason behind the venom that he was spitting from his mouth. It was jealousy, the thought of you being with someone else but not just anyone, a Pogue. At first you thought his attempts at groping you inappropriately or looking at you in certain ways was just another way to amuse himself by winding you up. But no, he really wanted you. And his next actions proved it even further.
"Get in," Rafe commanded, throwing the back car door open and shoving you inside.
You didn't even protest against him, scattering to the other side of the seats. You hadn't even thought why he had placed you in the back, not even questioned it until his hands started to unbutton his shorts in front of you.
He couldn't really be doing what you thought he was doing, there was no way. You were still parked up by the beach, away from the crowd but anyone could still walk or drive up beside you.
"What are you doing?" You asked, face completely dropping when he started to climb in beside you.
"Seeing as Dad and Rose's punishment clearly isn't working, I think it's time for me to make my own," Rafe seemed so sure about the words that fell out of his mouth, closing the door behind him. "Maybe then you'll listen."
"Rafe, you're joking right?" You were still in disbelief, bringing your knees up to your chest to shield yourself away from him. "You got your message across, okay? I won't go anywhere near the cut again."
"Those words are like sweet music to my ear," Rafe grinned from ear to ear, yanking you down by your foot. He pinned you down to the back seats, body hovering over you as he pulled his t-shirt off. "But I need you to mean them and right now I don't think you really mean them."
"This is too far even for you." Tears brimmed your eyes as you looked up at him, shaking your head for him to stop.
"Too far," Rafe scrunched his face up as if contemplating the idea in his head. "I think this punishment is perfectly acceptable." He leaned down, holding your hands above your head with one hand. "I think someone needs to fuck the traitorous brat out of you. Give you the attention you seem to fucking need so badly."
"Rafe-"
Your protest was swallowed with his lips on yours, in a hungry kiss. He nibbled at your lips when you didn't kiss back or open your mouth for him and when that didn't seem to work, he bit onto your bottom lip hard, making you yelp and open your mouth for him.
He had drawn blood, you could taste it when his tongue slipped into your mouth and you think the whole thing seemed to turn him on even more as he pressed up against you. 
You felt slightly docile after he was done kissing you, too busy trying to regain your breath to fight off his next move.
"Pretty thing," he seemed to admire you from above, slipping his free hand across your body. It grazed your subtle skin, fingers dancing around the edges of your clothes, taking a second before slipping your bikini top off with ease. "Fuck so pretty."
He was in a trance at the sight of your tits, admiring the way your nipples had pebbled. It shouldn't have been a shock to you when his mouth latched onto one of them but you couldn't help but yelp as you felt his wet tongue lick at your nipple. You even had to fight back a sigh at the feeling, grinding your teeth together to keep any noises of pleasure at bay.
Once you got your breath back you were able to speak again but when you opened your lips, the noise that slipped out worked against you as Rafe grinded his hips against yours, eliciting a small whimper from you.
"That's my good girl," Rafe spoke into the skin of your breasts.
"Rafe, stop this isn't right," you told him, trying to wriggle free. All you did was rub against him, enticing him even more. "We can't do this."
All that Rafe did was laugh at you, grinding slightly harder into you as he marked up your chest. Once he seemed satisfied he lifted himself up slightly, enough for you to sit up and try to slip away from him but Rafe had other plans. With one hand he shoved you back against the seats with ease, then in one swift movement he tore your panties off of your legs, throwing them onto the floor somewhere.
Then he was on top of you again, his body heavy on yours as he made himself comfortable between your legs. Your attempts to push him and slap at him did nothing to throw him off, it only seemed to egg him on as his hands pulled his shorts and boxers down.
"Rafe, please," you were crying, tears streaming down your face.
Rafe ignored your pleas as he wrapped his hand around his cock, giving it a few strokes before he lined himself up. He hissed at the wetness that met the tip of his dick, spreading it across your folds as he started down at it in complete awe.
"Fuck, you're so wet baby," Rafe cooed into your ear, flicking over your clit so gently with his dick.
You couldn't stop the whimper that fell from your lips or any of the other noises when Rafe finally slid into your walls. There was no fight in you left after that, your hands grabbed onto his shoulders for stability instead of slapping him away. Your lips fell open to let out soft moans instead of pleas for him to get away.
Rafe grinned in triumphant at how easily you succumbed to him. He made sure to bury himself deep inside of you with each slow thrust, his tip brushing a part of you that you didn't know anyone would ever be able to reach. With every thrust he had your walls clenching around him, dripping like they never had before.
You wanted to say something, to tell him this wasn't right and hold your ground a bit more but you couldn't. With every roll of his hips he had you panting and whining, mind becoming fogged as you became cock drunk from it. And you could tell he was loving every second of it.
It was in the way he drank in your vulnerability with his eyes, finding himself going faster so you could cling onto him just that tiny bit more. His eyes were so dilated you could barely see the blue, it was all too clouded by the darkness that was Rafe. He winked when he noticed you looking up at him, taking it as a sign to get closer to you as he pressed his forehead against yours.
There was an intimacy in this that you weren't expecting from Rafe, in his stares and the way he sometimes brushed his lips against yours. It was confusing, something you really couldn't think about in the moment but you were grateful for it. Grateful that he wasn't being completely cruel.
"Rafe," you were breathless as he pushed a stray hair of yours behind your ear.
"You're so perfect when you're just like this," Rafe groaned, taking your legs from the side of him. He pushed them down and in between the pair of you, having your ankles dangling by your head. With this angle he was reaching in deeper, making your eyes roll back at the feeling. "So at peace beneath me."
"Rafe,” you choked.
A hand of yours reached out to push him away, finding it over stimulating as he pushed into you with no mercy. He could see you opening your lips again and not knowing if he would like what was about to come out, he shut you up the best way he knew how. As he rolled his hips into you, hard and set a brutal pace that had your nails digging into biceps for stability.
"Wait- uh," everything that left your mouth from there was incoherent to both of you, even his name wasn't pronounced properly as he fucked his rage into you.
You couldn't even help the way you were soaking him, walls sucking him in and squeezing him to keep him there. He could sense how close you were with your eyes fluttering shut and your thighs shaking. He wanted to push you there, to watch the way your face contoured as he pushed you over the edge.
But you were closing your eyes and he couldn't have that. His hand wrapping around your throat making your eyes spring open, bringing your attention back to him and grounding you a bit.
"Eyes on me princess," Rafe let out in a growl, squeezing his hand in a slight warning. "Got it?"
Eagerly you nodded even though your vision grew blurry with each second.
"You going to cum for me?" Rafe asked and you were honestly surprised how he could be so focused on you. With the way you were feeling, you could barely focus on anything.
"Yes," you managed to get out, feeling your cunt start to twitch around him.
You felt your face flush with embarrassment at the noises you made when you finally came, pussy fluttering around him. Your back arched up into him and you struggled to keep your eyes open. But you managed and you could tell Rafe was thankful, especially with the way his mouth hung open at your expressions.
He wasn't far behind, unable to hold back with the way your pussy clamped down on him, milking him of all his cum. He didn't even bother to pull out, painting your walls instead with every drop of cum he could get out. His pace grew sloppy, finally coming down giving you space to breathe as he collapsed on top of you.
It took you some time to get back to reality and Rafe sensed it as soon as your body tensed underneath him.
"We shouldn't have done that. You shouldn't have done that," you told him, voice still shaky. "This has really gone too far."
Rafe snorted at that, pressing a peck on your neck before resting his head against yours.
"I think I should tell dad." You didn't know what had come over you in that moment, his dick was still buried in you and you knew that nothing could make you muster up courage to ever speak this to your step dad.
"He wouldn't believe you," Rafe chuckled darkly, a venom in his tone that you knew so well. "I think he'll take my word when I tell him you were just slutting it out for some stupid Pogue."
"You're awful."
"Anyway you wouldn't want to tell dad. Not when you want me to fuck you just like that again."
Rafe finally moved, sitting up from his position to look around for his clothes. You noticed the mess you had made all over him, your wetness coating him, even dripping onto the seats below. You were mortified at the sight of it and how badly you wanted to do it again.
As if he could feel you staring at him, Rafe turned to look at you. A smug smile over his lips at the sight of you cowering in the corner of his truck.
"So, round two here or back at the house."
"Fuck you."
With that Rafe's hand was tugging at your hair, yanking you towards him until you positioned yourself in his lap. He didn't care how you yelled at the pain, only cared about the way his cock was springing to life once again.
"That's not a nice way to talk to your older brother," He tutted, releasing his grip on your hair.
"You're so messed up."
"Does that make you messed up too?" Rafe pushed his tip along your folds again and you couldn't help but wince at the sensitivity of it. "Seeing the way you just came on my cock."
All you could do was whine in response as he guided your hips down on his length. You knew it shouldn't be happening again but you knew there was no way you were going to stop him.
"And I really want to see you cum again."
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(Dividers by @cafekitsune and @k1ssyoursister)
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*zombie noise* uuurghhhh.. Titties.. Man titties.. My sickness can only be cured if I am able to suck on some man titties 🧟‍♀️
AUUUGgGgGg My aching hands can only be remedied with a dose of squeezing chesticles various times a day 💀💀
nonnie the way i got war flashbacks reading the word chesticles😭💔 i believe this was in reference to this ask so today it's sun's turn to be reduced to an absolute mess🥰 i'm sorry this took so long to get to btw and also that the writing is largely shit, dar has not been vv good at this lately😔
NSFW under the cut!
“You’re being forward,” Sun laughed, bright-eyed, “hard day?”
“Very.” You stressed, leaning into him, finding solace in the softness of his shirt. His calves brushed against your lower back, drawing you between his thighs.
Sun's hands flicked up, fingers pressing to your scalp and massaging gently. Tenderly, to the shell of your ear, he hummed, “anything I can do to make it better?” 
Blinking at his innocent question, you couldn’t help but grin. Your arms stretched to either side of him, caging him all the more across the counter he was sitting on. “I can think of a few,” you whispered, revelling in the little exhale you received in response, “namely…”
“Y/N.”
“These.” You groped his chest with a happy tilt to your head. “They’re there for a reason, right?”
Sun groaned, curling into you to hide his obvious blush. “Not for you to… play with…”
“Why not?” you teased, feeling your neck heat from where he rested against it. “You didn’t have a problem with it last night. You begged me to touch them more actually, don't you remember? Crying so prettily, saying-”
“That’s enough!” He covered your mouth, pushing you slightly with a shaky grip on your shoulder. Red-faced and refusing to meet your gaze, Sun was the perfect picture of adorable. “If it’ll make you feel better, you know-” he paused, getting quieter, “you know I’m yours so… do whatever. Please, just stop embarrassing me.”
“Me? Embarrassing you?” You gasped, ever playful and swooping in to nip his cheek. “I would never.”
“Y/N,” Sun said again, this time whining, “you’re literally doing it right now!” He swatted at you lightly, but your energy was not lost on him, not in the giggle that preceded your pinning him down.
“Well, hello there,” you mumbled, attention completely focused on the expanse of skin exposed to you now that his top had ridden up.
Sun kicked you, half-hearted. “Don’t talk to it.”
“Sorry.” The both of you knew you weren’t sorry at all. Your thumb had already found its home, kissing into the flesh layered above his sternum, tracing the shadows cast.
Sun arched into it, and suddenly, every move you made became weighted.
Muscle beneath fat, driving your digits in until there was no more give, clawing, kneading, feeling his pulse soar — kisses trapped within his ribs that you knew his heart desperately wanted to send your way. How could you call yourself his lover if you didn’t reciprocate?
Saliva dripped, and your tongue followed, laving into cushioned tissue. You could get addicted to the taste of him, to the gasp and coil that brought you even closer. “Does it feel good, baby?” you mouthed around his nipple, relishing in his shiver.
“Good, so good,” Sun whined, breathless, writhing. “Don’t stop.”
“Who’s being forward now?” your teeth sank in, nothing akin to a light bite. “You can’t be giving me mixed signals like this Sun, you were so shy earlier…”
“Sorry,” he cried, “I’m sorry. I’ll be good for you. Please.”
Tears on his lashline when you pulled away. Your palms squeezed his pecs, let the pressure run down his entire body when they trailed to grasp his hips. Sun bit his lips to muffle his sounds, and you undid them with your own. “Tell me then,” you coaxed, “what do you want?”
“Bed.”
“Okay.” You caressed his face, and his turning to nuzzle into it was all you needed to forget about the stress you’d been feeling prior. "Bed," you repeated. "Bed sounds good.”
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n0tamused · 1 day
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Could I request Aventurine's s/o just making and giving him a bunch of random gifts? From simple things like cupcakes and plushies to more lavish gifts like a multi-purpose gun and tricked-out sunglasses.
A/n: A little drabble for this idea, hope you enjoy
Contents: Aventurine x GN!Reader, fluff, not proofread
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“My, my, what do we have here? And who are you bringing this to?” Aventurine inquired after he glimpsed the little pile of gifts stacked on the coffee table. There are boxes wrapped in pretty and colorful papers and decorated with bows on top, and there are desert boxes next to them, ones he could see the contents of due to their translucent lids. 
You startled at the sudden voice, too immersed in wrapping up another gift in pretty green wrapping paper. Turning your head to look at him you beam with mirth, eyes gleaming as you notice the genuine confusion in his eyes. Had you not known him as best as you do, you would have thought him dull-witted for not already noticing these were for no one else but him.
“Take a wild guess, why don’t you? I might give you a reward if you get it right on the first try” you tell him, feeling rather proud of yourself with the assortment of gifts you managed to snag on the planet that was new to you both. There were local delicacies and deserts in the boxes on the table, but also wrapped goodies that would be of daily use to him, 
Aventurine feigns skepticism, although he now recognizes his momentary error and chuckles for not already having guessed. “Might it be.. hmm, hmm..” he hums and coos, dragging the moment out as he prowls around your sitting form and trying to get a glimpse at what you were wrapping up, but the box was already enveloped in the pretty glimmering paper. “Could it be me?” he asks at long last, tilting his head down at you when you look up to meet his colorful gaze.
Judging by your smile spreading further, crinkling the corners of your eyes, he was right on the dot.
“Took you long enough, but you got it right. Would you like to open these now.. or perhaps when we’re back home? I thought I had more time to hide these away - I wanted it to be a surprise, but alas, you always had such amazing timing” you tell him, clearly in jest.
“What would you prefer? I don’t wish to trash your plans any further... I may have caught you off guard with this, but now you have me rather speechless, I must praise you for that” he responded, your smile spreading to his lips like a disease as he lets his eyes wander over to the other presents once more. You rise from your seat, leaving behind the box and go to meet him in an embrace. He accepts it, a bit stiff at first but it is like your warmth melts that unease away from him, and soon after he is wrapping his arms around you. “Missed me already?” he coos at you, his tone now mellow as if his usual tone would hurt you at such close proximity.
“I have” you state simply, looking up at him as you pull away, melting into the view of the pretty blonde man.  “And I’d rather show it all to you now. We have time until this ship lands again, might as well indulge in some sweets, right?”
His gloved fingers brush against the line of your jaw, slightly tilting your head to the side and he mirrors the motion. “That is right.. I am desperately craving something sweet right now. You mentioning it is only making me more hungry for a taste” he says, and you notice the slight flush that comes over his cheeks. You beam at it, but it is him that leans in and catches your lips in a chaste kiss.
You chase his lips before he can fully part, finding yourself in a craving as well, in need of another kiss. It felt as if days had separated you until now and not just a few hours. You feel his huff against your skin, the corners of his mouth twisting upward. Once you pulled apart, you notice his grip on your arms, keeping you steady as your own hand keep him steady in return. He blinks at you, his eyes half lidded and full of warmth that was only reserved in quieter moments like these. 
“Come.. let me show you what I’ve gotten for you” 
He obliges, your voice snapping him out of his fuzzy thoughts. He doubts he’ll ever get used to your kindness and gifts, they’re too sweet to him, and he doubts he has earned them, but he is not the one to decline your invitations or offers - that’d be too mean.
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Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.
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kckt88 · 11 hours
Text
A Heartbeat Between Us X.
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Summary:
Aemond has one more surprise for Y.N. as the two of them look to the future.
Warning(s): Drama, Fluff, Alcohol, Swearing, Kissing, Smut, Dom/Sub, Fingering, Oral Sex, P in V, P in A,
AEMOND x Y.N
Word Count: 6130
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Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.
Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole @toodlesxcuddles @mamawiggers1980 @minttea07 @nommingonfood
Aemond and Y.N. were nestled comfortably under the covers, their bodies close, savouring the warmth and quiet after their second round of sex.
Aemond’s arm was wrapped protectively around her, and Y.N. rested her head on his chest, her fingers tracing soft circles on his skin. Just as they began to drift into a peaceful silence, there was a knock at the door.
Aemond sighed, kissing the top of her head before reluctantly slipping out of bed. “That’ll be Aegon with Jack,” he muttered, grabbing a pair of sweatpants from the floor and pulling them on.
Y.N. watched him with a soft smile as he padded to the door.
Aemond swung it open to find Aegon standing there, pushing Jack’s pram with one hand and holding Y.N.’s suitcase in the other.
“Why didn’t you just come in?” Aemond asked, stepping aside to let him in. “The door was unlocked.”
Aegon walked in with a shrug. “Well, I didn’t know if you and Y.N. were getting busy in the bedroom or wherever the mood took you and I didn’t think it was appropriate for Jack to be witness to such depraved shenanigans.”
Aemond scoffed, rolling his eye. “This, coming from the guy who once had a threesome with a married couple?”
Aegon shot him a look of mock offense. “In my defence, I didn’t know it was a threesome at first.”
Aemond raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Still stayed, though, didn’t you?”
Aegon grinned unapologetically. “Hell yeah. The wife was hot. But the husband, he was—"
“That’s enough,” Aemond cut him off sharply, though a hint of amusement tugged at his lips as he reached down to lift Jack from his pram.
Jack gurgled happily, kicking his tiny legs as Aemond cradled him close.
Y.N. appeared in the doorway to the bedroom, dressed in one of Aemond’s t-shirts and a pair of his shorts, looking effortlessly beautiful.
She glanced at the suitcase Aegon had brought in and asked, “Is that my suitcase?”
Aegon nodded, smirking. “Yep. Took the liberty of packing up all your stuff, so you don’t have to go back.”
Y.N. looked slightly surprised. “You packed everything?”
Aegon shrugged again. “Yeah, everything that belonged to you and Jack. The place was bare minimum anyway.”
Y.N. smiled gratefully, brushing off the idea of sorting through her suitcase for the time being.
She stepped over to Aemond and pressed a kiss to Jack’s head, her voice soft. “It’s getting late. Probably a good idea to put him to bed.”
Aemond nodded in agreement, bouncing Jack gently in his arms. “I’ll take care of it.”
As Aemond headed to the nursery, Aegon looked around the penthouse, plopping down on the couch with an exaggerated sigh.
“Hey, can I crash here tonight? I’ll head home in the morning.”
Aemond, now halfway to the nursery, called back, “Sure, you can stay in the spare room.”
Aegon, never missing an opportunity to be his usual self, added, “By the way, if you two are going to get it on at some point tonight, I don’t mind hearing Y.N, but Aemond—needs to keep his voice down? I don’t want to hear his groaning. Makes for one very awkward wank-”
Y.N. burst into laughter. “You’re so gross, Aegon,” she said, shaking her head.
Aegon grinned, completely unfazed. “Yeah, I know. I’ve learned to live with it.”
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The smell of food drifted through the penthouse, stirring Aegon from his sleep. Groggily, he pushed himself out of bed, rubbing a hand over his face before following the delicious aroma to the kitchen.
As he stepped in, he saw Y.N. at the stove, expertly cooking breakfast, and Aemond sitting at the table, cradling Jack in his arms.
Aemond looked up with a smirk. “Good morning, Uncle Eggy.”
Aegon rolled his eyes, plopping down into a chair. “I haven’t been called that in years.”
“Yeah, I know,” Aemond replied, still smirking as he adjusted Jack in his arms, making the baby giggle.
Aegon’s gaze shifted to the stove, his mouth practically watering. “What you cooking, Y.N.?”
Without turning, Y.N. answered, “Bacon, eggs, sausages, hashbrowns, beans, and cheeky bit of fried bread-”
Aegon’s eyes widened in delight. “Oh, please say there’s some for me.”
Y.N. shrugged playfully. “There might be,” she teased as she plated the breakfast and brought it to the table.
Aegon wasted no time, practically inhaling his food, while Aemond deftly managed to eat one-handed, using his fork with one hand and holding Jack with the other.
Y.N. noticed Aemond’s multitasking and offered, “I can take him, you know.”
Aemond shook his head. “No, you finish your breakfast first. I’ve got him.”
Y.N. smiled at the sight of Aemond holding their son so comfortably while Aegon barely came up for air between bites.
“Slow down, Aegon, you’ll give yourself indigestion.”
Aegon groaned, pushing the last bit of sausage into his mouth. “It’s been ages since I had a proper cooked breakfast.”
Aemond smirked as he took another bite. “Maybe if you got up before dinner time, you could cook one for yourself.”
Aegon scoffed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Me? Cook? Next joke-”
As they finished breakfast, Aemond passed Jack to Y.N., who happily took him into her arms, cooing softly.
Aemond stood and began clearing the table, tossing a glance at Aegon. “Come on, you can help with the washing up.”
Aegon groaned, leaning back in his chair. “Ugh, really?”
But Aemond shot him a look, and with a heavy sigh, Aegon reluctantly got up to help.
As he half-heartedly rinsed a dish, Aemond grabbed a towel and whipped it at Aegon’s side, earning a yelp.
“Ow! Alright, alright, I’m helping!” Aegon laughed, rubbing his side before going back to work.
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After Aegon had left the penthouse, Y.N. turned to Aemond, her curiosity piqued. "Are you going into work today?"
Aemond shook his head, his gaze soft as he looked at her. "No, I’ve got the day off. I wanted to spend it with you and Jack." He paused, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "But, I do have a surprise for you."
Y.N. raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A surprise? What is it?"
Aemond chuckled. "If I tell you, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise, would it?"
She pouted, crossing her arms. "That’s not fair."
He leaned in, kissing her gently. "I’m sure you’ll survive. Now go get dressed, and I’ll get Jack ready."
With a teasing roll of her eyes, Y.N. pressed a quick kiss to his lips before heading to the bedroom. Deciding on something comfy but still presentable, she settled on a pair of jeans and a soft sweater.
When she returned, she found Aemond waiting by the door, Jack securely strapped into his car seat, his little feet kicking in excitement.
Aemond grinned at her. "Ready? Let’s get going."
Y.N. followed him out to the car, watching as Aemond made sure Jack was secure before getting in himself.
They drove out of the city, the familiar high-rises and busy streets giving way to rolling hills and tranquil greenery.
After about twenty minutes, they pulled up to a beautiful, small manor nestled among trees and gardens—not as grand as Targaryen Manor, but stunning in its own right.
Y.N. got out of the car, looking around in awe. "What are we doing here?"
Aemond came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist as he rested his chin on her shoulder. "This," he whispered, "is our new home."
Y.N. gasped, turning in his arms to look at him. "What? Really?"
He nodded, his gaze full of warmth. "Do you like it?"
"It’s beautiful," she breathed, her eyes wide as she took in the surroundings. "But-what about the penthouse?"
Aemond sighed softly, his hand gently caressing her back. "As much as I like living there, it’s not exactly ideal for a family. And after everything with Alys, I want a fresh start. For all of us."
With Jack in his arms, Aemond guided her to the front door, unlocking it and stepping inside. Y.N. gasped again as she entered, the interior even more breathtaking than the outside—old-fashioned yet elegant, with tasteful decor and large, sunlit rooms.
Every detail seemed carefully chosen, full of charm and warmth.
"What do you think?" Aemond asked, watching her intently.
"It’s amazing," Y.N. said, her voice soft with wonder as she moved through the house. She admired the spacious rooms, imagining how perfect they’d be for their growing family.
Aemond led her to the back garden, showing her the lush greenery and wide-open space.
"Just imagine," Aemond said, his voice full of hope. "We could have a little slide and a swing set for Jack when he gets older. He could have all this room to play."
Y.N. smiled, picturing their son running through the grass, and felt a warm surge of happiness.
Aemond wasn’t done yet, though. He took her hand, leading her to a building situated behind the garage. Unlocking the door, he stepped aside, letting her see the large, open space inside.
"I thought this could be your restoration workshop," he said, his voice tinged with excitement. "It’s plenty big enough, and it can be a step towards opening your own business."
Y.N. felt tears spring to her eyes, her heart overflowing with emotion. She hadn’t expected something like this.
The gesture was so thoughtful, so perfect. She covered her face as the tears flowed, overwhelmed by how much Aemond had considered her dreams.
Aemond’s face turned to panic. "I—I’m sorry. Did I do something wrong?"
She shook her head, reaching out to wrap her arms around him as Jack gurgled between them. "No, no-I’m crying because it’s so wonderful."
Aemond smiled in relief, his own eye softening as he pulled her close. "I just want you to be happy."
"I am," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his chest. "I really am."
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As they stood in the spacious workshop, Y.N. looked up at Aemond, her heart still racing from the surprise. "How long have you been planning this?"
Aemond smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "A few weeks. I was going to surprise you, but then-everything with Alys happened, and I thought I’d lost you."
Y.N. took his hand, squeezing it gently. "Let’s put all that behind us and look to the future. We’ve come through it, and now we have so much to look forward to."
Aemond nodded, his expression softening. "You're right." He paused for a moment, then asked, "So, when do you want to move in?"
Y.N. smiled, feeling excited at the thought. "Whenever you’re ready."
He glanced around the house, thinking for a moment. "I want to get some people in to give the place a good clean. It's been stood empty for a while. How about in two weeks?"
"Two weeks sounds perfect," Y.N. agreed, already imagining making this place their home.
Aemond grinned, relieved that everything was falling into place. "Now that’s sorted, I can tell Aegon the good news."
Y.N. tilted her head, curious. "What do you mean?"
"Aegon wants the penthouse," Aemond explained with a chuckle. "As much as he enjoys living with Daeron, he wants his own space. So, I told him if this move worked out, he could live there."
Y.N. laughed, shaking her head. "He’s going to be overjoyed."
Aemond smirked, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Yeah, until he sees how much rent I’m going to charge him."
She playfully swatted his arm. "You wouldn’t!"
"Why not?" Aemond raised an eyebrow. "I own the penthouse outright. I’m not going to sell it, so renting it to Aegon makes sense."
"But it’s Aegon," Y.N. teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "He doesn’t even have a job."
Aemond chuckled. "Actually, he does. He owns The Dragon’s Den."
Y.N.’s mouth dropped open. "Of course, Aegon would own a club. Now it makes sense when you said you knew the owner."
"Yeah, he hasn’t always owned it-" Aemond explained. "-it’s a more recent purchase, but if anyone can make it work, it’s Aegon. He’s always been good at organizing parties."
Y.N. laughed, shaking her head. "That is so Aegon."
Aemond smiled softly, pulling her closer. "Yeah, it’s perfect for him”.
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The last game night at the penthouse was filled with warmth and laughter as Y.N., Aemond, Aegon, Daeron, and Helaena gathered around the table.
Daeron dealt the cards while Aegon leaned back in his chair, stretching.
“How many moving boxes do you even need?” Aegon asked, raising an eyebrow.
Y.N. smirked, playfully nudging Aemond. “Oh, those are just for Aemond’s hair products.”
Aemond frowned, trying to suppress a smile. “Hey, I don’t use that many.”
Aegon laughed loudly. “Sod off! I remember when you were living at the manor, and you had a special cupboard for all your hair stuff.”
Aemond scoffed, crossing his arms. “It wasn’t a special cupboard.”
Helaena giggled, chiming in, “Yes, it was. It had a lock on it and everything. No one was allowed to touch it.”
Daeron leaned forward, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, do you remember when Aegon picked the lock and poured your scented hair oil out? Replaced it with vodka?”
Aemond’s lips pressed into a thin line as he muttered, “It wasn’t funny. People thought I had a drinking problem for about a week because I smelled like a brewery.”
Aegon grinned proudly. “It was rather funny.”
“For you, maybe,” Aemond shot back, rolling his eye.
Y.N. laughed softly, squeezing Aemond’s hand. “How come you didn’t notice when you were putting it on your hair?”
Aemond sighed, his pride slightly wounded. “Turns out it was scented vodka.”
Y.N. burst out laughing. Aegon pointed triumphantly at her. “See! Told you it was funny.”
Before they could continue, the sound of Jack crying echoed from the other room. Y.N. stood up and pointed at the group. “No looking at my cards, you damn cheaters.”
Aegon scoffed as she left. “The nerve to call us cheaters when she’s the one who always wins at poker. Always wins, my arse.”
Helaena shrugged, grinning. “No, it’s just because you suck, Aegon.”
Y.N. reappeared at the door, a question on her lips. “Aemond, where’s Jack’s stuffed dragon teddy?”
Aemond thought for a moment. “In the box labelled Jack’s room. Is he okay?”
Y.N. nodded. “He’s just a bit unsettled. I think he needs his snuggies with his teddy.” She disappeared again to tend to Jack.
Just then, a knock came at the door, and Aegon cheered, “Food’s here, finally! I’m starving.”
Aemond and Helaena helped dish up the Chinese takeout while Y.N. returned to the room a few moments later.
Aemond handed her a plate. “Jack okay?”
Y.N. smiled as she sat down. “Yeah. He’s asleep now.”
As she started to eat, Aegon made a move toward her plate, reaching for a piece of prawn toast. Y.N. held up her fork threateningly. “Touch my food, feel my fork.”
Aegon groaned, dramatically leaning back in his chair. “Not this again. Don’t be tight—share!”
Y.N. grinned, teasing him. “I’ll swap you one of my prawn toasts for one of your spring rolls.”
Aegon scowled. “They’re my favourites!”
“And prawn toast is my favourite,” Y.N. replied, biting into one.
With a defeated sigh, Aegon pushed a spring roll her way. “Fine. Take one, just hand over the toast, woman.”
Y.N. handed him the prawn toast, smirking in victory.
As they settled into their meal, Helaena asked, “Do you have everything sorted at your new place?”
Aemond nodded. “Yes, I was there yesterday overseeing a furniture delivery.”
Helaena smiled. “So, you’re not taking any of the furniture from here?”
“No,” Aemond said, shaking his head. “It doesn’t fit with the older style of the manor. We want to preserve the traditional feel, so we’re just taking our personal possessions.”
“I love that you’re keeping the traditional style,” Helaena said, clearly excited. “None of that modern trend.”
“I’m not really into the modern look either,” Y.N. agreed. “I think it takes away a place’s character.”
As they finished their meal, Y.N. and Helaena got up to clear the plates and load the dishwasher.
Y.N. glanced over her shoulder at Aemond, who was laughing with his brothers. The sound of his deep laughter filled the room, a rare and heartwarming sound.
Helaena, standing beside her, smiled softly. “This is the happiest I’ve ever seen Aemond.”
“Really?” Y.N. asked, her heart swelling with affection.
Helaena nodded. “It’s nice to see him smile like this.” Turning to Y.N., she added, “Thank you for loving him the way he deserves.”
Y.N.’s eyes glistened as she smiled back at Helaena, feeling a warmth in her chest. "He deserves the world."
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After Helaena, Daeron, and Aegon had left, a calm settled over the penthouse. Y.N. stretched and smiled, feeling content after the evening spent with Aemond’s siblings. “I think I’m going to have a bath,” she said,
Aemond, already seated on the sofa with a glass of whiskey, nodded, his gaze soft and appreciative as he watched her. “Enjoy,” he said, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.
Upstairs, Y.N. entered the bathroom, the faint scent of roses already wafting through the air as she poured a generous amount of rose-scented bubble bath into the filling tub.
The soothing fragrance wrapped around her as steam rose from the water. She pinned her hair up, undressed, and slipped into the tub, sighing in pure bliss as the warmth enveloped her.
The soft bubbles floated around her, and the tension of the day melted away with each passing second.
After washing herself, a mischievous thought entered her mind. A small smirk played on her lips as she called out, “Aemond?”
A few moments later, the bathroom door creaked open, and Aemond stepped in, a curious expression on his face. “You called?” he asked, his voice low and smooth.
Y.N. looked up at him through her lashes, her smile playful. “I did. I was hoping you could give me a kiss.”
Aemond chuckled, his lips curving into a smile. He set down his glass and walked over to her, kneeling next to the tub. His eye softened as he leaned closer, as he reached out, brushing a few stray bubbles off her shoulder, and pressed a tender kiss to her lips.
The warmth of the bath, mixed with the heat of his kiss, made her heart race. Y.N. smiled against his lips, pulling back just enough to whisper, "Thank you."
Aemond lingered close, his gaze flicking between her eyes and lips, his voice low and teasing. "That all you wanted?"
Y.N. smiled up at Aemond, her eyes glimmering with mischief as she leaned a little closer, her lips just inches from his.
“No,” she whispered, her voice soft yet laced with desire. “That’s not all I wanted.”
Aemond raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Oh?" His voice was low, the playful challenge clear. "And what else do you want?"
Instead of answering with words, Y.N. leaned forward, her hand sliding up to cup the back of his neck.
She pulled him closer and kissed him deeply, passionately. The warmth of her lips sent a jolt of heat through him as he responded instantly, his hand moving to gently cradle her face as he kissed her back with equal fervour.
“Y.N” exclaimed Aemond his singular eye dilated.
“I want you to fuck me in this bath-”.
Aemond smiled, of course had absolutely no problem with that.
Standing up, he quickly pulled off his clothes, his cock already half hard.
He took a step towards the bath, but Y.N stopped him with a hand on his pale thigh.
Looking up at Aemond’s face, she licked her lips and moved her hand from his thigh to wrap around his cock.
Stroking it, she licked around the head with her tongue, teasing and tasting his slit.
Aemond drew in his breath at her touch. Y.N opened her mouth and engulfed the head, sucking it into her wet heat.
Aemond hissed with each stroke of her hand, she pulled inch after inch of his cock into her mouth.
Her tongue brushed the underside of his shaft as she leisurely fucked his cock with her mouth.
Her hand slid smoothly along his wet length with firm, deliberate strokes –
“N-No m-more” muttered Aemond, quickly stepping free.
Y.N looked at him silently, with her wet lips barely parted.
Her large eyes locked with his and Aemond faltered slightly. It was truly amazing how she could bring him to his knees without even saying a word.
“You want me to fuck you hard?” asked Aemond as he pulled off his eyepatch, the sapphire nestled in his socket glittering.
“Yes” whispered Y.N as she slowly licked her lips and swallowed.
Aemond closed his eye for a brief moment and took a deep breath before he slid into the warm water.
Slowly he moved towards her until his body hovered over hers.
“Promise me you'll use the safe word if it gets too much” murmured Aemond.
Y.N trembled from the intensity of his tone.
“I don't need a safe word. I said want you to fuck me hard, and I meant it-”
“Promise me that you'll tell me if it's too much” said Aemond.
Y.N squeezed her thighs together, trying desperately to stimulate her clitoris. She was certain she'd never been this turned on before.
“Yes. Aemond” replied Y.N.
Aemond’s smile was cold.
“Good” said Aemond as his hand closed around her throat, and with his thumb he pushed her chin up to meet his commanding kiss.
After stealing Y.N’s kiss and breath from her body, Aemond let her go and moved to the opposite end of the oversized bath. The water slipped and sloshed over the edges.
Aemond lay against the bath's edge, hooking his arms around it lazily. His gaze was hooded.
“Now. Suck my cock”.
Swallowing, Y.N headed over to him, bracing herself against the bath's sides. She saw his impressive erection through the water, magnified to a daunting size.
But Aemond didn't raise his hips.
“Now” ordered Aemond, his tone gave little room for argument.
Y.N took a deep breath and slid under the water, gripping his erection a little harder than she would ordinarily have dared.
Aemond didn't move.
Y.N put her lips to his head then quickly pulled his cock into her mouth, forming a tight seal so water didn’t enter.
Stroking his shaft firmly, she moved up and down, swallowing his head and as much of his length as she could, sucking hard.
Y.N’s hearing was somewhat clouded by the surrounding water.
So she didn't hear Aemond’s sharp intake of breath, and she couldn't see how he tilted his head back, eye closed against the glorious streaks of pleasure coursing through his body.
Aemond couldn't remember the last time he was this hard.
Y.N’s head broke clear of the water, she gasped for breath and pushed her streaming-wet hair back over her head.
Aemond looked at her with the same cool expression he'd had since he kissed her.
“Again” ordered Aemond sternly.
Chest heaving, Y.N stared at him. His eye: normally cool and blue, now burned with an intensity she’d never seen before.
She slid beneath the water again, making her way to his almost-pulsing erection.
After her third descent, eyes closed against the water, Y.N felt an elegant hand descend on her head – and lock her head in place. Her mouth full of Aemond.
Drawing her fingers around his balls, she couldn't resist the temptation to pinch them – and was rewarded with his fingers clutching her head in instinctive response.
Y.N sucked Aemond’s cock until she felt her cheeks bulge and her lungs burn. She felt light-headed. Yet still he kept her head underwater. Her heart pounded from exhilaration and fear.
How long would he force her?
But Aemond’s grip on her head suddenly loosened and she surged up, water heaving out of the bath, drawing great amounts of air into her starved body.
Disoriented and dizzy, her body swayed dangerously as Aemond pressed her to lay back against the cool edge of the bath and hooked his arms around her thighs, lifting her lower half out of the water, his mouth descending on her cunny.
Ravenously, he pressed into her core with his tongue, in and out, much faster than his cock ever could. Still gasping, Y.N clutched at his head with one hand, her other hand scrabbled for purchase slippery edge of the bath tub.
Aemond withdrew from her soaking wet core and lashed hard at her clitoris with his tongue, pulling on it with his lips.
He was hard, fast and brutal, alternating between her assaulted bundle of nerves and drinking deep from her cunt.
Y.N ground down on Aemond, hard; his tongue speared deeper inside her, and she felt the warm curl of her peak approach.
Aemond growled, deep in his throat; the vibration of his vocal cords rippled through to his tongue and Y.N gasped; she felt every vibration keenly. Her body tensed for her peak–
But Aemond pushed her off him.
Starved of her release, Y.N shrieked in vexation – then her breath left her body as he shoved her against the edge of the bath.
Breathing hard, Aemond pushed her hair away from her face – then he held her face in his hands and kissed her, drawing her breath from her once more as she tasted the salt-sweetness of her body on his lips and tongue.
Aemond pulled away, just far enough to capture her stare.
“You had enough?” rasped Aemond.
“Not even close. Do your worst. I can take it” challenged Y.N.
A spark briefly ignited Aemond’s gaze, and before she could speak again, his hand pressed against her throat, cutting off her air once more.
“You really want it?” asked Aemond. He let her nod; once, twice.
Aemond removed his hand, and Y.N gasped for breath again, howling in need as he suddenly slid two long fingers into her cunt and speared them in and out of her at a brutal pace.
His palm bumped against her clit with each hard thrust. In the space of a second, Y.N’s peak came reappeared.
Gods, she needed it, she needed it so bad.
Aemond’s lips were at her ear, whispered harshly. “I can feel your body, love. Your cunny’s clutching my fingers. You're desperate for it, aren't you?”
“Y-Yes” gasped Y.N, closing her eyes and focussing on the swirling sensation building in her pelvis.
“Is that a fact?” Aemond taunted with his beautiful mouth, his tongue licking at her earlobe Y.N didn't think it was possible, but he sped his fingers up, and she knew she would gush all over his hand, in the bath, down her legs – and she didn't care, it felt so fucking good.
“Aemond!” gasped Y.N, writhing against him, yet he pulled his fingers out of her body and moved away.
“FUCK!” screamed Y.N in frustration.
The corner of Aemond’s mouth tilted, looking her slowly up and down as he began to stroke himself.
“You don't come until I say you can. If I say you can”
Frustrated almost beyond sanity, Y.N closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
“Enough?” asked Aemond smirking.
Y.N raised her head and glared at him defiantly.
“Not even close”
Aemond acknowledged her response with a circling motion of his index finger.
Y.N obeyed and spun around, staring at the wall of the bathroom. She couldn't see but she heard Aemond move behind her.
Her heart began to pound with anticipation.
“Good” replied Aemond, as he smacked her luscious buttocks with his open hand.
The sting of his hand on her flesh took Y.N by surprise, and she gasped before yelping. Heat bloomed over her assaulted backside.
Ignoring her, Aemond delivered spank after spank to her bottom, never landing on the same place twice.
“Say the safe word” snarled Aemond, still not letting up.
“NO” cried Y.N, trying to stimulate her neglected clitoris between the top of her thighs.
She would not give in. She would not back down. She asked for her fiancé  to do his worst and fuck her hard and she meant every fucking word.
Instantly, his lips were at her ear again.
“Liking it are you” taunted Aemond.
“Please fuck me” whispered Y.N against the bath.
“Oh, like this?” asked Aemond, and a second later his hard length filled her cunny in one smooth stroke.
“God. Yes. Aemond” moaned Y.N.
He began to move in and out of her in a series of deep measured thrusts.
“Your cunt is dripping, it's so beautiful” sighed Aemond, as he began to fuck her faster.
Y.N bit her lip hard. She didn't want to let him know how close she was to release.
“Bet you're wondering when I'm going to let you come.” said Aemond.
Y.N moaned in the affirmative, and he slowed down. She heard the slick sound of their flesh connecting over the sloshing water in the bath.
“Not like this, that's for sure” said Aemond as he withdrew.
Y.N whined desperately.
“But since you've been a very good girl, I'll tell you, if you like?”
“Y-Yes. P-Please” moaned Y.N, her legs shaking.
Aemond laid a gentle kiss between her shoulder blades.
“You, my dear, are going to come with my cock shoved right inside your gorgeous arse”
Before Y.N could react, Aemond spat generously in his hand and spread it over his finger and around the entry to her arse. She felt his finger on her little rosette, and it felt so naughty, it was good.
“Yes, or no?” asked Aemond
Y.N didn't even have to think twice.
“Yes, Aemond” moaned Y.N as Aemond slowly inserted his finger into her body.
He worked in silence for a while, easing his finger in and out of her arse until she could take it easily.
Pulling out, he added a second finger and brushed both around her hole.
“Yes, or no?” Aemond asked again...
“Aemond. I want you take my arse and fuck it until I scream out your name. I need to come, please. Do not deprive me any longer” begged Y.N.
Aemond let out a breath of air, but no words. Silently, he breached her arse once more.
Y.N screamed, and Aemond panicked. He started to back his fingers out, but she begged “No, no, oh god it feels so fucking good I can barely stand it”.
Aemond continued to work his way into her tight space. When his fingers were fully inside her, he put his lips to her ear again.
“I'm going to take your arse” whispered Aemond, pumping his fingers slowly in and out.
“Yes” gasped Y.N as she pushed against Aemond’s slender talented finger’s.
“I'm going to breach your arse with my cock and fill you all the way up. It's going to feel so good, love, I can't wait to feel you come”
Y.N’s teeth were gritted, and she grunted low in her throat each time his fingers surged in.
“Yes” moaned Y.N loudly. Aemond slapped her buttock, and she wailed again.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, sir” moaned Y.N. She was pushing back against his hand, so he spread his fingers inside her, accommodating her to his size.
At last, she was ready for him.
Aemond reached over to the small cabinet next to the bath, praying the contents hadn’t been packed already and he let out a joyful cheer when his fingers closed around the bottle of lubricant.
Aemond bent her over, so her hands gripped the edge of the bath with her legs open for him. Lubricating his cock, he almost salivated at the sight she made. Y.N’s cunny was plump and glossy.
So very tempting, but he was after another prize tonight.
Aemond pressed the head of his cock to the entrance of her arse, and Y.N moaned in need, he pushed through her entrance and past her sphincter muscle, swearing loudly as it gripped him unbelievably tight.
“Oh gods. Oh yes” moaned Y.N, flinging her head back. Aemond eased himself slowly and smoothly into her tight anal passage, trying not to pass out from the sheer fucking bliss of it.  
Eventually, Y.N took his entire cock.
“Come with me Aemond. I want to come when you come”
Aemond withdrew a little and surged inside again. Over and over, he did this withdrawing further each time, until his cock entirely withdrew from her now-widened entrance.
He marvelled at her body. Such a beautiful, succulent thing his fiancée was. Allowing him entry into the most sacred parts of her body.
Aemond began to fuck her in earnest, plunging his cock into her arse over and over, thrilling to hear Y.N’s moans of need. Bracing her arms, she pushed against him so he could shove his cock in.
Harder and faster.
Aemond felt his balls draw in; his peak was approaching. He snaked a hand around Y.N’s body and played with her clitoris, rubbing it with his fingers.
“Oh gods” moaned Y.N as her whole body shook.
“Come for me, love” breathed Aemond, his thrusts starting to jerk.
He was close. So close.
Y.N screamed as her desperately-needed peak exploded from her body, making every limb tremble as her body clenched around Aemond’s cock.
Aemond’s own peak nearly took him off his feet. The sensation took over his body as he spilled rope after rope of his seed, he had no recollection of what he did or said for the good minute it took for his peak to crest, then subside.
He had never come so hard in his life.
Breathing hard, Aemond gently pulled out and enveloped Y.N’s shaking limbs into a tight hug.
“I-I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“Not at all” replied Y.N quietly as she slowly descended down into the cool bath water.
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Aemond stood in the street, the keys dangling from his hand as he stared at Aegon. "Alright, here you go," he said, handing them over.
Aegon accepted them with a gleeful grin, twirling them around his finger.
"Don't forget," Aemond warned, narrowing his eye at his brother, "I still own this place, and I won't have you trash it."
Aegon raised his hands in mock innocence. "Would I ever?"
Aemond crossed his arms. "No wild parties, no orgies, no drugs, and absolutely no ritual animal slaughters of any kind—wow god I’m giving him ideas”
Aegon chuckled, shaking his head. "First of all, ritual animal slaughters? What the actual hell, Aemond? And are you sure about the orgies? Because—"
"Absolutely no orgies!" Aemond cut him off, exasperated. "I still have PTSD from walking in on you and those three girls back when we lived at home."
Aegon’s eyes twinkled as he remembered. "Oh, that was something else. And I did invite you to join, as I recall. You’re the one who declined."
"You’re damn right I did," Aemond muttered, shuddering. "I didn’t even know any of those girls, and I definitely didn’t want to see your bare arse."
At that moment, Y.N. appeared next to Aemond, catching the tail end of the conversation. "What’s this about Aegon’s bare arse?" she asked, amused, her eyebrows raised.
Aegon huffed dramatically. "He said I can’t have orgies," he replied, pouting like a child being denied a treat.
Y.N. shot Aemond a sympathetic look. "Well, that's understandable," she said. "But, wait—how do you even manage to have an orgy?"
Aegon grinned devilishly. "Oh, it can be exhausting," he said with a wink, "but I am very generous. Everyone gets a turn, and I’m not selfish either. In fact, why don’t—"
Aemond groaned, cutting him off. "That's enough of your depravity."
"You're such a spoil sport," Aegon muttered under his breath, though the smile never left his face.
Y.N. chuckled as she looked at Aemond. "Jack’s all strapped into the car, and everything’s ready."
Aemond gave the penthouse one last lingering look, his gaze softening for just a moment. Y.N. noticed and asked gently, "You alright?"
"Yeah," Aemond replied, nodding. "Just-saying goodbye to this place."
Y.N. smiled, understanding, and got into the car. Aemond turned to Aegon one last time, his face serious. "Remember what I said, Aegon, or I’ll kick your arse."
Aegon grinned, clearly not taking the threat too seriously. "I’ll be good," he promised, waving them off as they headed down to the car.
Aegon stood watching Aemond climb into the driver’s seat. He waved at Y.N., who waved back, and he watched as they drove away, followed closely by the moving van.
As the car disappeared from view, Aegon turned back to the penthouse, keys in hand, and grinned. "Well, guess it’s time to break this place in."
63 notes · View notes
yesihaveaobsession · 2 days
Text
Secret Romance
Alastor x female reader
Summary: Secretly dating The Radio Demon himself and sneaking around so the other hotel patrons don't get suspcious.
A/N- WARNINGS??- Alastor being flirty? Kissing? Anyways hope y'all likeeeee... <3
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You and Alastor had been secretly seeing each other for months, slipping away whenever you could to be alone. The thrill of sneaking around was intoxicating; it honestly made you feel young again... even though you were both grown adults. The secrecy, however, made things complicated—especially because the Hazbin Hotel was filled with eyes and ears. Alastor, the Radio Demon, had always been charming, but no one would suspect he could have a soft spot for anyone, let alone you.
Tonight was no different. You had been helping Charlie around the hotel all day, but it was later, when the night had grown darker and everyone was winding down in their separate rooms, that you made your way through the hotel's now dimly lit corridors. You tiptoed past a few residents' rooms.
When you opened the door to a room that was still in renovation mode—just as Alastor had mentioned in the note he'd left for you—you found him already waiting, his back to the window, his hands casually behind him as he hummed a jazzy tune. The soft glow of his red eyes locked onto yours as you entered.
"Ah, darling," he purred, "Right on time." You closed the door behind you, the faint creak of the hinges reminding you just how secretive you had to be. No one could find out. It would cause too much drama, especially with the way the others saw Alastor... dangerous, unpredictable, and manipulative. But you, you saw a different side of him—one that made your heart race.
“You make it sound like I’m late," you teased, stepping closer, your fingers brushing his arm. Alastor chuckled and took your hand, pulling you gently toward him. "Perfection, my dear, is always punctual." You rolled your eyes at his playfulness, but you couldn’t deny the warmth you felt every time you were near him.
Being around Alastor was like dancing with danger, but you loved it. In moments like this, the world faded away, and it was just the two of you.
"So," you whispered, looking up into his eyes and leaning in slightly, "what's the plan this time? Sneak out through the window? Or do you have some other trick up your sleeve?”
In the beginning, when the two of you first started seeing each other privately, Alastor wasn’t really great at physical affection—he wasn’t a good kisser and didn’t know how to place his hands on your hips or engage in physical contact beyond linking arms or holding hands occasionally. But over the months, he'd gotten much better.
Alastor grinned, a wicked spark lighting up his features. "As tempting as it is to whisk you away into the night, I’m afraid we'll have to settle for a quieter meeting. The others have been... suspicious lately.” He leaned in slightly, causing you to raise an eyebrow. "Suspicious?"
"Mm-hmm." He added as he spun you around with such grace. You let out a small giggle as he slowly dipped you, then pulled you back up and closer. The smile that possessed his face never seemed to falter. “But no need to worry, my dear. They’ll never catch on. After all, they don’t expect someone like me to fall for someone like you.”
There it was—the vulnerability behind his usual confidence. No one expected the Radio Demon to have romantic feelings. And for him to reveal them to you, of all people? It was a secret you both treasured, making these stolen moments even more precious. You reached up, resting a hand on his chest. He didn’t flinch, and you could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath his sharp suit. “They won’t find out,” you promised softly. “We’re too good at this.”
Heck, yeah, you two were. You were like ninjas at this point. Alastor's smile widened as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Oh, I know, darling. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Should you two stop? Probably. But the truth was that you had feelings for each other, and the excitement that filled you was unbeatable. For a while, the two of you just stood there, bathing in the moonlight that shone through the window behind you. The silence between you was comfortable, even as Hell's usual chaos carried on outside. In the Radio Demon's arms, you felt safer than in any other relationship you'd been in.
But, as always, the time came for you to part for the night. You sighed, reluctantly pulling away, already missing the warmth of his arms around you. “I should go before someone notices I’ve been gone too long.”
He nodded in understanding, though he felt the same as you. "Yes, yes, we can’t have anyone getting suspicious, can we?” he said quietly. You gave him a playful smile before heading to the door, but just as you reached for the handle, Alastor's voice stopped you.
"One more thing, dear..."
You turned, and in an instant, he was in front of you, his lips meeting yours in a kiss so sudden yet so sweet that it took your breath away. When he pulled back, his smile was softer, more genuine than usual.
“Until next time,” he whispered.
You gave him one last glance before slipping out the door, your heart racing as you made your way back to your room. The thrill of the secret affair lingered long after you left, knowing you’d soon be sneaking off again for more stolen moments with the man who had captured your heart.
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lelengerine · 2 days
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pairing. eunseok x reader
synopsis. who would have known a late-night stroll would lead to a quiet revelation?
genre. confession au, they joke about getting caught by cops, fluffy fluff, lmk if i missed anything as usual!
wc. 1k words
notes. i realize i have a streak of making confession/childhood bff drabbles lately... and i will not be stopping anytime soon 😁😁 likes and feedback are highly appreciated!
m.list
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it’s one of those nights—the kind where the world feels like it’s holding its breath, with the city asleep and the stars awake, twinkling as if they know a secret. eunseok’s familiar voice crackles through your phone despite it all, breaking the stillness in your room. “hey, i’m outside. you awake?”
there’s a beat of silence once you pick up the phone, caught off guard by his voice even though you're already used to hearing it. the corners of your lips tug into a smile, already reaching for your hoodie to slip into. “why? need help running from the cops again?”
a soft, amused snort comes from the other end. you can almost picture his grin, lopsided and playful. “yeah, definitely. bring snacks, we might be in for a long chase.” the jokes come as naturally as breathing when you’re with him, the teasing made easy—just like it’s always been between the two of you.
it doesn’t take long before you slip out the door, the crispness of the night settling around you like a familiar blanket. you find him leaning casually against the streetlamp positioned at the curve of your block, his posture relaxed but alert.
eunseok’s eyes light up the moment they catch yours, and you couldn’t help but grin at the sight. “look at you,” he says, voice teasing but soft, “one day you’re gonna wake up and realize i’m just using you for free, late-night entertainment.”
you roll your eyes, nudging him with your elbow. “wow, i’m so honored. couldn’t find anyone else, huh?”
his laughter fills the solemnly lit up street, the sound of it curling around you and offering a sense of warmth. for a moment, you wonder how many nights you’ve spent like this in each other’s presence—no words needed to fill the spaces between you. he brushes his hand against yours, a fleeting touch, but one that sends a strange tingle up your arm, yet just as quick, he tucks his hands into his pockets.
“no one else gets my jokes like you do,” he says, his voice softer now, almost thoughtful.
you don’t answer, but the quiet that follows feels comfortable, as if slipping into an old, well-worn sweater. you fall into step beside him, footsteps barely making a sound on the pavement and for a while, you simply walk, listening to the faint rustle of leaves in the trees, the distant hum of cars, the steady rhythm of your breaths blending together.
eunseok tilts his head back to look at the clear sky, his face bathed in the pale glow of the moon. “look at the stars tonight. it reminds me of when we were kids, lying in the grass, pretending we knew the constellations.”
you hum, the memory flooding back—nights spent in his backyard, your fingers tracing shapes in the sky as he spun wild stories about the stars. “except you were just making them up,” you retort with a smirk. “i’m still not convinced starfish the destroyer is real.”
a laugh bubbles up from his throat—a light, melodic sound that never fails to make your heart feel full. “it’s gonna be in textbooks one day, mark my words.”
the air between you feels alive with shared memories, a thousand unspoken moments that have built up over the years. it’s the kind of connection that doesn’t need constant words—it just is. but then, as the conversation fades back into a comfortable silence, eunseok stops in his steps.
you turn to look at him, nose crinkling from confusion, but you notice a gentleness in his expression that wasn’t there earlier. he shifts slightly, his gaze dropping for a moment before he speaks. “you ever think about how none of this feels right without you? the stars, the late nights—anything, really.”
his words hang in the air, soft but heavy, like the weight of something that’s been building for a long time. you blink a couple of times, taken aback by the sudden question. the eunseok you know is playful, never one to be serious for long. but this? this feels different, like he’s pulling back a curtain you hadn’t even realized was there despite how long you’ve been friends.
“what’s gotten into you? feeling sentimental?” you ask as your head slightly tilts, trying to keep the mood light, but there’s a nervous flutter in your chest.
he scratches the back of his neck, his usual confidence faltering just a bit. you can see the slight pink creeping up his cheeks, even in the dim light. “maybe. or maybe i’ve just been thinking too much.”
“about what?”
he doesn’t answer right away—instead, he looks up at the sky, his eyes reflecting the starlight like he’s searching for something in them. when he finally speaks, his voice is quieter, almost like he’s afraid of breaking the moment. “about how everything feels… better when i’m with you.”
it’s a simple statement, but it hits you hard—like a quiet confession slipped into the night, one that’s been waiting for the right moment to be said. there’s a weight to it, something unspoken that lingers between you, and for the first time, you see him—really see him. the way his guard is down, the way he’s looking at you like you mean more to him than you’ve ever realized.
you could brush it off, make a joke like you always do, but something in the way he’s looking at you tells you this time is different. this time, it matters.
your smile softens, and you take a step closer to him, arm brushing his. “then let’s keep walking. we’ve got a lot of stars to see.”
eunseok glances at you, something unreadable flickering in his eyes before his lips curl into a small, genuine smile. he reaches for your hand, his fingers curling around yours with a tender certainty. gently, he guides your joined hands into the warm pocket of his jacket, tucking you close against his side. “yeah,” he responds softly, “lots of stars.”
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JJK Characters Realizing They Start Falling for You [Pt.2]
Bonus: manga character in the end!
Choso:
Being one of the Death Paintings, he never experienced such feelings before. At first, he tries identifying it but fails. It’s more than friendship and more than simple protectiveness. After some time, he goes to Yuji and reluctantly asks for advice.
Grumpy and aloof by nature, Choso starts with tiny steps: sitting a bit closer to you than usually, talking to you more often or even doing small acts of service like holding the door for you.
He actually has lots of passion, emotions and affection inside and with you around, he feels more in touch with these emotions than ever.
Is very sweet and once opening up, will blow you away with his wit and humor.
Will surely take some time to mentally prepare for asking you out since a) he doesn't believe he has a chance and b) has super low self esteem in terms of being a romantic partner.
Takes you to a quiet place where he can gather his thoughts. Is surprisingly straightforward though and just admits he likes you and would like to get to know you more.
INSTANT SMILE OF RELIEF
Cups your face and stares in your eyes with a huge goofy smile, not quite comprehending what just happened.
Yuta:
Since he had a history with Rika, at first he brushes off any thoughts of potential love interests.
However, you make it hard for him not to pay attention to the way you laugh, carry yourself, or spar.
Opens up with you more, replacing his shy facade with his true, ingenious and passionate self.
He finds it fascinating how easy it is to talk to you and just be around you, with no need to pretend or stay alert.
Is actually a very protective type and it will show almost instantly. He will always make sure you are safe and comfortable but he won't be obtrusive at all.
One day just asks you to join him and spend some time in an amusement park. While walking, will casually drop the "I quite like you" line and will smile softly, talking your hand.
From the start, he never doubted in your answer and now smiles in quiet confidence.
Toji:
Needless to say, the man is super reserved so at first, he will just act as his usual self: keeping the distance and occasionally glancing at your side with a frown.
Is annoyed at himself because he never thought he’d be interested in another person again. Apparently, you found your way under his skin.
Toji knows how to be a husband but has forgotten how to be a boyfriend so he’ll have hard time figuring out where to start.
Are flowers okay? What do people even do these days? Should he take you out somewhere?
His rage surprisingly dissolves in your presence and he cherishes this feeling though never admits it out loud.
Will take you to a secluded and quiet restaurant and will simply state that yes, he’d love to… try this whole…relationship thing with you.
Geto:
Usually has no trouble asking someone out or simply flirting but finds himself at loss of words in your presence.
It’s weird and he both likes it and feels a bit embarrassed.
Is a type to observe you from the distance and make mental notes on your behavior and habits. He doesn’t stalk though: he is just hesitant to approach you yet.
Is amused by the way you laugh or fix your hair and smiles softly and admires you quietly
Loves to touch you, be it holding your hand occasionally or brushing a strand of hair from your face.
Will probably ask you out while you two share a quiet and cozy evening. Something like stargazing together sounds like a perfect start for your blooming relationship.
“I’m not used to needing someone as much as I need you, but I’ll be honored if you decide to give it a try and become my partner”
Higuruma:
Not really a romance type of guy and has never been pursuing a relationship, prioritising work.
Is caught off guard by the sight of you. His eyes open widely and his whole expression changes as if the veil, that’s been hiding his features, was finally lifted.
Tries to rationalise his feelings and emotions. Like, he should control them, right? Logic should be above it all?
In your presence, acts in a rather sharp manner, trying to hide nervousness.
Old-school romance is his style. One day, he will just show up with a huge bouquet of flowers, assembled specifically to your liking.
Will be brutally honest like “I don’t know why I’m feeling this way but I’d rather spend evening with you than by myself”
Will actually open up and as it turns out, has a wonderful sense of humor and lots of witty stories that he will gladly share.
Note though that he is a perfect listener. This man is genuinely interested in your day, your mood and your thoughts.
He wants to become part of your life and is willing to work on any complexities that might arise.
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velvetvexations · 2 days
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I'm now going to conclusively prove beyond all possible doubt that TERFs hate cis men, people they perceive as men, and masculinity in general. No, seriously, this is going to have less holes than relativity. Darwin wishes he could have demonstrated the reality of evolution like I'm about to take down the idea that TERFs don't come from a place of violent hatred towards masculine people and those they perceive of as masculine.
Some ground rules, because I'm so good at predicting counter-arguments:
I have only included cases where posts are completely, 100% unambiguously about cis men or "all men." No posts complaining about "men" without further elaboration, to avoid the argument that it's just being used as a dog whistle.
I have excluded cases that could be brushed away as only racism rather than hatred of men specifically, although yes, obviously they are also extremely racist.
I did not repeat a single TERF to dodge claims these are mere anomalies.
"but they team up with cis men" the Nazis teamed up with Asians and tried appealing to Native Americans and Arabs, people are perfectly capable of being logically inconsistent or temporarily suspending their feelings for one group to combat another - also, many TERFs do actually bemoan the way others have started warming up to conservatives.
The "claiming TERFs don't think I'm a woman is misgendering me" people are going to be upset. Or at least they would be, but transradfems will not engage with this, they will do everything in their power to ignore it. I invite everyone to use this post whenever they say TERFs uniquely hate trans women and only trans women. It's necessary to make the facts inescapable.
Okay, here we go after the cut. My own commentary will be Biggest as well as bold and italicized for readability. CW for hateful rhetoric.
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Here she's saying that Western white women have extra capability to fully sever all relationships with men, not that white women have a greater need to do so, and thus does not fall under "can be brushed away as racism" like it may read at first.
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This is in response to statements of others that identify men in a sympathetic way ("not all men," "normalize men crying") and therefore cannot be about trans women.
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"Stop calling men boys" means the people she's ranting about call them boys, which again means this post isn't about trans women.
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I'll end by noting that I'm not comfortable platforming the content itself, but if you google "Dworkinstan Tumblr" (yes, even the actual URL is that bad) you will find the crowning example that really cherries the top of this sundae.
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You're The Closest To Heaven I'll Ever Be - Chapter 31
Long time no update, sorry
‘You are my mate,’ Nesta said, holding his gaze. Azriel could sense the need to bolt in her. To make this declaration with an audience demanded so much from her, but Azriel held her there. ‘Mine. Only mine. And,’ she gave herself a moment to breathe, ‘I love you.’
Shadows swooped around them like a maelstrom. They engulfed the pair of them without his command. Azriel lifted Nesta’s chin to kiss her again.
When the shadows dropped away, Thesan cleared his throat.
‘I have mended the gravest injuries, but Illyrians' wings are wholly different to that of the Peregryn. It is beyond my capabilities.’
‘We’ll have Madja sent for,’ said Cassian. He gave a nod then departed, a hand pressed to his abdomen where his own wounds still healed.
Azriel’s wings stung but that announcement from Nesta had given him the strength to stand upright again. In the corner of his vision, he could see Mor staring daggers at them; her arms were folded, the mortal girl, Briar, forgotten in her anger.
‘Be with your sisters and take a rest,’ he said, touching Nesta’s face. ‘When Madja arrives, I’ll find you.’
Nesta gave a reluctant nod before departing too. He watched the sway of her hips as she left, glad she was his.
Over his shoulder, Azriel gave a slight nod to Mor then thanked Thesan for his attempts. His steps were heavy and awkward due to the injuries on his wings. Each movement stretched the tendons so he could feel every single one aching. He gritted his teeth and moved on towards a quiet corner of the camp. The grey sky promised rain – this close to the Winter Court, the temperatures would plummet too.
Mor stopped a few paces from him, her face hard.
‘She’s your mate.’
‘Yes.’
Why did he owe her this conversation? A five-hundred-year commitment that only he upheld had been sliced with a knife effortlessly once Nesta came into his life. Nothing was left hanging; no threads remained that he wanted to cling to. Whatever he’d felt for Mor paled now. It had never been reciprocated besides so he couldn’t understand why she stood so terse and sullen.
‘You didn’t tell me,’ she stated.
‘You didn’t need to know.’
Her nostrils flared. ‘I’m your friend.’
‘Nesta is my mate and she needed time to process it. I haven’t spoken of it to anybody.’
‘Cassian knew.’
‘Because Cassian figured it out, Mor. Why are you angry with me?’
‘You didn’t tell me,’ Mor repeated, as if saying it twice would wound him.
‘Because Nesta has been my priority.’
She gave a hollow laugh. ‘And that’s it? You’ll just forget about what she did to Feyre?’
‘If you can’t speak of her with kindness then don’t mention her name at all,’ Azriel warned. When it came to his mate, he didn’t care how long he’d known Mor for. ‘You could at least try to be happy for me. You know what it means to me to have a mate. You, of all people, know how long I have been waiting for love.’
The words hit her just as he’d intended them to, but Azriel didn’t linger to hear her reply. As he wended his way through the village of tents that had been erected, he spotted Cassian – larger than any – beckoning him to signal that Madja had arrived.
‘Will you find Nesta for me?’
‘Sure,’ said Cassian, not hiding his grin. ‘Out in the open now. Madja’s in my tent. Make yourself at home.’
In true Cassian style, the tent was untidy. He preferred his belongings in disarray so he could find things easier. Azriel and Rhys had tried over the years to keep their brother orderly, but had never succeeded.
‘If it isn’t him, it’s you,’ said Madja by way of a greeting. ‘It will be slow. And painful.’
‘Thank you for the warning,’ he said, moving to a supine position on the bed.
When the tent flap rustled, Azriel didn’t need to look to know who’d arrived. He could feel their bond practically glowing as Nesta neared. She went to her knees beside him without a hint of recognition for Madja. Her fingers brushed through his thick hair.
‘I’ll be with you.’
Through the hour or so that Madja worked, Nesta remained true to her word. Her only movement came from the tender stroke of her fingers against his face. The Mother had blessed him with her for a reason that he didn’t know. All Azriel knew was that he did not deserve Nesta – but he was glad to have her.
‘You need to rest, Shadowsinger. I know that isn’t an easy task for you,’ Madja scolded. ‘No flight. I do not want you to raise your arms above your head or lean over. Limit the range of movement at your core.’ She shook her head, apparently already expecting him to disobey her commands. ‘They will heal – but you must allow them to. Cassian followed my advice to the letter and his wings were in far worse shape.’
Azriel held his tongue rather than pass comment that orders were Cassian’s currency. He nodded once then Madja gave a look of reproach before departing.
They were summoned to Rhysand’s larger tent where the high lords had gathered alongside a handful of Illyrian camp lords. Azriel listened to the conversation about their strategy to face Hybern, offering little. The next battle would be sooner rather than later – and Hybern would strike hard. He’d hit the mortal lands. With the Wall down and the Spring Court weakened, he’d sweep through and slaughter mortals as he pleased.
Azriel leaned forwards on his stool, unable to keep his wings upright with his aching muscles. Then a weight lifted from his back, the burning pain subsiding. Cold hands delicately held the bulk of his wings to alleviate the strain on his muscles. Nesta offered a muted smile to him as he glanced over his shoulder at her while the conversation continued. That touch had Azriel struggling to concentrate on one of the most important discussions of his life. How was he supposed to focus when his mate was touching his wings in public? There was nothing innately sexual in the gesture and yet Azriel couldn’t stop himself from imagining Nesta’s hands running against the tendons that attached to the bone. How silken her touch would be against the sensitive membrane. The fact she’d even noticed him struggling and been willing to help was another beast in itself. His thoughts were muddled. Tiredness and lust chasing away sense as he tried to focus on Feyre’s words.
‘Then we go tonight,’ said Feyre. ‘Anybody who can winnow will move the humans from Hybern’s path. We have to save as many as we can.’
He sat forwards on the stool to try and focus on the conversation and ignore the feel of Nesta’s hands against his wings.
Helion scoffed at her words. ‘We will be exhausted then Hybern's path is clearer.’
‘We’ll need all the strength we have to fight,’ added Kallias. His words were careful. ‘We can't waste it on winnowing humans.’
He felt Nesta’s hands grip tighter on his wings so he forced down a yelp.
‘It is no waste,’ countered Feyre. ‘One life may change the world. Where would you all be if someone had deemed saving my life to be a waste of time?’ She pointed to Rhys. ‘If he had deemed saving my life Under the Mountain a waste of time? Even if it’s only twenty families, or ten… They are not a waste. Not to me – or to you.’
They broke off from their discussions to set into action. Nesta remained near him as the other high lords peeled off to their own tents to dole out orders. When Feyre and Amren beckoned Nesta to them, she frowned then touched his neck before departing.
‘Az,’ Rhys said, glancing to his bandaged back. ‘You need to sit this one out.’
He clenched his teeth together, biting back the instinctual need to lash out. He breathed slowly. ‘I can winnow. You need me.’
Rhys touched a hand to his chest. ‘What I need is for you to rest. Take tonight to rest and we’ll see about tomorrow.’
He got to his feet, aching wings be damned, to draw himself to his full height and look down at his brother. ‘We’ll see about tomorrow? I’m fighting tomorrow, Rhys, and that’s it.’
‘You can’t fly.’
‘I’ll decide what I can’t do.’
The few who remained in the tent talking – Kallias and Thesan among them – cast looks in their direction. Rhys lowered his voice and leaned in close. ‘I am trying to keep you alive. You are already injured. If you can’t fly then you’re at a disadvantage in the legion.’
‘I’m stronger than all of those soldiers. You need me.’
‘Alive,’ Rhys emphasised. ‘I need you alive – and so does Nesta.’ He shook his head. ‘This isn’t up for discussion. You’re staying here tonight to rest. Most males would kill for a final night with their mate because not all of us will be here to see the sun set tomorrow.’
A foul mood fell as heavy as a cloud as the others winnowed away while Azriel remained in the camp like a scolded child. He hated to feel useless. He was forbidden from helping today. If he couldn’t fight tomorrow, what was the fucking point in any of it? He was a shadow singer. He was the only one in known existence at that time. Azriel could be the one to tip the scale - but Rhys had relegated him to minding the camp like a nursemaid.
‘You haven’t eaten,’ came Nesta’s voice.
The look she gave him was no less intense than usual. She saw all of him. From the deep-rooted need to prove himself useful to the churning emotions that he’d been left behind.
She led him by the hand to where food was distributed to members of any court. They had all quickly learnt that the Winter Court had the blandest food to offer but the Day Court’s was rich with overlaid spices.
‘I find I have a taste for spicy food,’ she said, handing a bowl to him and taking one for herself. ‘Elain has eaten, but perhaps we could sit with her.’
Azriel didn’t want to force his bad mood on any, but Nesta gripped his hand fiercely like he would float away at any moment. The tent was warm and Elain still dozed as she was prone to do. Blankets were tucked around her slumbering form and Nesta seated herself near her sister like a watchful guardian.
They ate in silence. Only the scraping of their wooden spoons against the bottom of the bowl interrupted it.
‘I’ll return these,’ he said, standing swiftly.
‘You will come back, won’t you?’ Nesta pinned him with a stare like she saw right through him. Knew that he’d planned to winnow to the mortal lands and damn Rhys’ orders. She stood, a hand reaching for his face, and caressed it. ‘I need you to live, Azriel.’
***
Silence washed through the tent as the day dribbled away into night. Azriel lay with his head in her lap, refusing to give into sleep. Only her cajoling him had meant that he took the vial of pain relief that Madja had left for him. It seemed her mate was a masochist.
Over and over, Nesta thought about what the dawn would bring. They would seek out the Cauldron – her, Elain, Feyre, and Amren. It meant they would need to draw out Hybern’s armies to lead the bulk away from the Cauldron. Feyre and Amren believed in the plan. Believed that the king might leave his prized possession under the watchful eyes of his soldiers and take to the field. No, he wouldn’t. Nesta knew it in her heart that he would not – unless the right bait was offered. She would die tomorrow. If it meant that her sisters lived then it was a price she needed to pay.
‘Azriel,’ she whispered, stroking her mate’s hair. It was softer than she expected it to be – far softer than her own. When he murmured in response, she leaned forwards to kiss his temple. How had she denied herself these comforts for so long? It was easy to be with him like this. To kiss. To hold. ‘May we go to your tent?’
With Varian remaining to keep a watchful eye on Elain, Nesta led Azriel by the hand to his tent. She moved to the brazier, lighting it quickly so that he didn’t need to be near fire, then led him towards the bed. Before she could lose her conviction, Nesta removed his clothing. Her own was shed just as hurriedly so that she was naked. Azriel, it seemed, did not know where to cast his eyes. He looked at all of her then none of her, his hazel eyes shooting up towards the sloping roof of the tent.
‘Look at me,’ she murmured, grazing her knuckles along his cheek. ‘I would like it if you looked at me.’
Azriel forced his head downwards as if it went against every moral that he’d been holding onto tightly. She held herself still as his eyes swept over her bare skin.
A hand curved over her hip and drew her closer.
Nesta tipped up her head to kiss her mate. It was gentle, but Nesta did not want caution that night. She would die in the morning. If they only had one night together, she wanted all of him. All of her mate.
As they kissed, Nesta guided him backwards towards the low-slung camp bed that she prayed would hold both of their weight.
‘We must be careful with your wings,’ she whispered between kisses.
With a strain, Azriel pulled himself away from her lips. There was a flush to his cheeks that she had never seen before – and wished she could see every day. In that moment, the shadowsinger appeared so vulnerable like he would bare his heart to her if she asked.
‘We don’t have to do this. Don’t feel forced.’
‘Who said?’ Nesta challenged, touching the tip of her nose to his. ‘Who is forcing me? For months, you have been there to steady me through every storm. Tomorrow, we face our greatest test.’ To call it a test seemed too trivial. But Nesta couldn’t call it a war. Couldn’t ground it into reality that way. ‘Maybe we only have one more sunrise. I want to spend tonight with my mate in case we…’
A knot grew in her throat, making it difficult to speak. The idea of losing Azriel after only finding him recently was too much to bear. She would not fare well without him. It was Azriel who guided her when she could not see the way through the darkness. Tomorrow, the darkness would take her, not him. She knew it. It was a truth that she could not run from. The thought made her heart speed up. The others would take care of Azriel. Rhysand and Cassian – even Morrigan – they would keep him together when she fell. She had to believe in that.
Azriel’s hands slid to her face, holding her still as their foreheads touched.
‘We will have a future. I promise this.’
She gripped his hands in response, praying to the Mother it was true. Only now that it was going to be snatched away did Nesta realise how desperately she wanted a future with Azriel. She loved him. It was so easy to admit it. He was her first thought when she woke and the last before she closed her eyes. He was everything. She wanted to marry him, to have his children, to grow old together. And it would be taken from them.
Azriel kissed a trail down her body to try to soothe her worries, but he did not know the depths of her fears. He did not know what the morning had planned for her.
He did an admirable job of hiding the pain of his wings as he manoeuvred himself between her thighs. Nesta sank back onto the thin pillow as Azriel languidly kissed her sex. The warmth of his tongue coaxed her legs wider and all the demure ways of a mortal woman were abandoned in favour of her mate’s mouth. Azriel was gentle and demanding in equal measure. His lips pressed firmly against her, savouring the taste as she writhed and jerked from his touch. A hand moved up her body to palm her breast. She twisted her own fingers into his black hair, holding him to her while her release built. Her mate was a careful lover who ensured that she reached the edge of her pleasure. His fingers covered her mouth to muffle her moans in the tent. Azriel didn’t take his eyes off of her, not for a moment, as she came.
‘You are so beautiful,’ he murmured, caressing her face.
‘Let me feel you inside of me.’
His eyes shuttered closed then he moved towards her. He stilled for a moment, wincing as his wing flexed.
‘We’ll be gentle,’ Nesta whispered, stroking his arm.
‘Just this once,’ he teased. The ghost of the smile on his lips was so precious that Nesta held it in her memories like pressing flowers between the pages of a book to keep forever.
Although she was nervous, Nesta could not imagine this moment with anybody else. He had been patient and loving, leading the way through the dark even when Nesta was ready to give up.
Despite having no basis of comparison, she knew his manhood was larger than most. Azriel seemed to come to the same conclusion as he positioned himself at her entrance.
‘You will tell me if you are hurting.’
She gave a little nod, unsure if she could find her voice.
The pressure that built made her hold him closer. Slowly, ever so slowly, Azriel pushed himself in deeper. The feeling of being stretched was not pleasant, nor was it unpleasant. It was unlike anything she had felt before – an invasion where there should have been emptiness. His body on hers was hot, the weight comforting, as she adjusted to him.
‘That’s about half.’
‘Only half?’ Her voice pitched on the last word.
Azriel grimaced. ‘Is it too painful?’
At her hesitation, Azriel made to withdraw his length. Nesta gripped his arm, her nails digging into the flesh. ‘No. Please, stay. Just… slowly.’
He touched her face with reverence. ‘Slowly,’ he agreed. ‘And you will tell me when you want to stop.’
She didn’t know if she ever would. The intimacy of him moving within her meant more to Nesta than anything else. It would override her sense.
He slid in deeper, drawing a ragged moan from her. Each measured thrust of his hips was careful. Azriel was so beautiful. So kind. Hers. This was her mate. Fate had led them together. For five hundred years, Azriel had been waiting for her. There was something deeply romantic about it. He had waited so long to be hers. And tomorrow, he would be without her again. To leave the path to the Cauldron clear, Nesta had to draw out the king. Her life was forfeit. To save him – to save them all – Nesta had to die.
At the first sign of her tears, Azriel froze. ‘Nesta.’
‘Don’t stop.’
‘Nesta, you’re crying.’
‘They are good tears,’ she assured him, swallowing down her joy and sorrow. ‘I love you. I wish I didn’t wait so long to be with you.’
Azriel leaned in close to kiss her. ‘I have waited all of my life to love you.’ He pressed another kiss to her forehead. ‘All of that waiting was worth it. I’d wait another five hundred years if I had to, if it led me to you.’
When he finished inside of her, Nesta held him close. If his wings pained him, Azriel did not let on. He merely, rested his head against her chest while she traced pictures on his skin with the tips of her fingers. His release dribbled from her but both were too tired to clean up properly. There was something sordid yet enticing about his scent covering her. Nesta didn’t want to wash it away. She was his. She would die and the whole world would know she belonged to Azriel.
Faintly, she could make out Rhysand’s voice on the other side of the tent speaking low to Cassian, his voice the rumble of a storm in return. The others had returned to camp after a busy day and night spent evacuating as many mortals as they could. Nesta could only pray that they would be safe, wherever they were.
Azriel had fallen asleep wrapped in her arms after another dosage of the pain remedy. She held him tightly, unwilling to let herself fall asleep. If she fell asleep that meant the dawn would come sooner. Nesta could not let him go. Could not leave him yet.
Fate couldn’t bring them together only to part them so soon, could it?
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literary-motif · 2 days
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Yo are so good at writing wowow!
Also I’m sorry to other again but suggestion!
May I ask that you write something where Love is doubting Xanthus’ love for them? He’s trying his best but they don’t believe him?
<33
Whatever Souls Are Made Of
Xanthus Claiborne x Reader
“Xanthus, do you love me?” you asked suddenly, needing to find answers to the uncertainty swirling in your mind. 
He chuckled, missing the heavy seriousness of your question. “I call you ‘my love’ for a reason, don’t I?”
He felt you tense, the peaceful moment spent cuddling on Dontis’ couch — a respite as you basked in the eye of the storm before everything would come to a head a few days from now — shattered as you broke the illusion. 
You sat up, disentangling yourself from his arms. “Yes, but do you love me?” you asked, looking at him with a mixture of weariness and fear. 
There was uncertainty in your gaze, he understood, along with longing and heartbreaking doubt.
“What is this line of question, my love?”
You averted your gaze, knowing it did nothing to hide the turmoil in your chest. You did not know what to believe. “I mean, this is predestined, isn’t it? How— how can you be sure that what you’re feeling is love? How— what if we weren’t bonded? Would you love me the same?”
Your whirlwind of emotions seeped into the bond. Xanthus had felt the creeping bleakness, the crawling uncertainty, approaching like a thunderstorm. He had felt the static in the air around him — thick with unbroken tension. 
This should not have come as a surprise. He should have known better that the human mind always longed to understand. He should have known that the all-encompassing feeling of absolute devotion — the love he had for you, and you in turn for him — was not a gift either of you could accept without question. He had tried to distract himself from the nagging voice in his head sowing doubts, but his research into the bond had been cut short due to obvious present circumstances. 
Fated love or not, he did not want to lose you — could not dare to, if he wanted to keep his sanity. The inquiry about the nature of his feelings needed to wait until the threat on your lives was terminated. 
“Would you?” you pressed, looking at him with pleading eyes. 
He sighed. What was he supposed to say?
“No.”
Your expression dropped. He thought he could pinpoint the very instance in which your heart cracked. 
“Wait, let me finish. I could not love you the same way. The love we have — this feeling shared between us — is something much deeper than common, maddening romantic love. It feels like our very souls are entwined — if something like souls actually exist. It feels like you are a part of me in the rawest sense, as if our connection transgresses the laws of space and time. I cannot breathe without you, and I feel you. When I close my eyes, I can sense you. I see all of you. A feeling so complete is more than love.”
You nodded, a twinge of hurt still nestled in your heart. “I know the feeling,” you said, taking in Xanthus’ soothing smile. 
His hand reached out to brush through your hair. You leaned away, making him freeze.
“But do you love me?”
Xanthus dropped his hand. He looked deep in thought, like one of the countless philosophers he no doubt met, pondering the virtue of morality and the meaning of life. He opened his mouth to reply, hesitating. “I don’t know.”
At least he was honest. 
“Thank you,” you said. “I— I know that we didn’t choose this. We didn’t fall in love, it was just there suddenly. How real can it all be if it is all evoked by some blood magic?”
“It’s not ‘blood magic.’”
“But still! The sentiment remains, and I— I feel the same way about you. I have this urge to be near you at all times. I am scared when you’re not there. I can’t think straight when there is a surge of emotion in me that is not my own. It feels like a part of you is also a part of me — or maybe we’re two parts of a whole — but what autonomy does this give us? Do you think we could fall out of love?”
“We’re not in love. How could we fall out of it?”
His answer made you pause. He was right, on a technicality. It was the sort of detail that turned the argument, and you could not even scoff because he was right, and the philosophical streak in your discussion had made it transgress from a mere exchange of feelings and love-assurances — or lack thereof — to a much broader, more fundamental one. 
“True,” you conceded, leaning against the couch. Xanthus raised his arm in silent invitation for you to cuddle against his side. You accepted, leaning your head against his shoulder and feeling the immediate relief rushing through you at his warm embrace. “My argument for autonomy still stands. How can we trust this feeling between us? Not this love, because it is not it—”
“It’s more.”
“No, it’s different.”
He chuckled, and you felt the sound of it deep in his chest. “How very romantic of you to think of love as the ultimate good. The feeling between us surpasses love. It is more than every other emotion put together and amplified by a thousand — it is different. It is different  because it is more.”
“You mean it is more than an emotion?”
“Yes, I suppose. I think of it as an eternal tie, binding us together like the strings of fate.”
“You don’t believe this thing — the bond — between us can subside? You don’t think, with time, the intensity will diminish?”
“No, I don’t believe it will.”
“Do you think our meeting was fate?”
He paused, giving you a sly smile. The socratic method you applied to the discussion — probing him with questions and analyzing his answers — made him feel as if he was back in the drawing room of Schopenhauer, listening to his long-winded speeches while glancing at the skyline of Frankfurt. 
“Are we branching into Metaphysics, love? It’s going to be a long night,” he said, squeezing you tighter. “No matter what I believe, I know how I feel about you. Where it comes from and why these feelings curse through me is secondary. I love you, for lack of a better term — but when I tell you, know I mean that the same overwhelming feelings you have are reciprocated until the end of time.”
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hanmaitani · 1 day
Text
Equals
PAIRING - Faerie Prince!Kita Shinsuke x Wingless Faerie!Reader WC - 0.9K GENRE - smut CW - mating press, talk of an heir, praise, slight wing play... i really just needed to get back into the smut and him
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“Equal.” Shinsuke’s voice was heavy in your ear as you basked in the warm afternoon atmosphere filling up your small home. With the window open, the breeze makes the small crystals hanging from your ceiling chime softly, light playing off of them and refracting around your room.
You and Shinsuke had been holed up in your little home every time he’s come over since the winter ball. It had begun with you asking more and more questions about life at the palace, as the prince. You took his newly revealed role with more grace than he thought you would. Part of him had expected you to hold on to your anger for longer.
But the curiosity and conversations had quickly turn into how you were now, under him, legs around his waist, nails skimming the edges of his wings as he fucks you into your bed. The sound of skin on skin is nearly drowned out by the heavy panting coming from the man above you and the soft whines coming from your own lips.
“Come on, my love, say it for me,” he prompts you yet again, his way of drilling his praise into your head while you’re dizzy.
You can barely breathe, the way he’s so attentive to your needs. Your words come out more like little sighs, barely getting enough force behind them to be truly considered words. “E-equal,” you breathe, “we-we’re equals.”
He’s been reminding you of it non-stop, trying to convince you that even though he’s your prince, your future king, he’s still just Shinsuke to you, and you’re still his love.
“One day you’ll be my queen,” he mumbles in between his moans. They’re words that he used to think about but now he can speak them aloud, now that you know who he is. The promises make your head dizzy, make you want to question if it’s truly possible. “You’d be my queen, right?”
You can’t question him when he sounds so sincere, so drunk on you, so in love with you. “Yes.” Your affirmations are always breathy, paired with pretty moans as he rewards you for your agreement.
You always get so dizzy when he gets like this, his soft pants in your ear as he praises your every arch, whimper and whine. Your nails dig into his shoulders and it only spurs him on. You don’t mean to do it, your sharp nails mean to claw at his back, to drag him closer to you. It’s a miscalculation as your nails scrape harshly against his delicate wings.
His sharp hiss of pain brings you back to your senses. Your eyes widen and your hands jerk away from him, panic entering your voice. “I’m so sorry, oh my god-” you almost whimper as you pull back to see his face all scrunched up in… but he doesn’t look like he’s in pain. “Shinsuke?” you question quietly.
“Fuck,” his voice is gravelly and his cheeks are flushed profusely. His eyes darken as he looks down at you, “do it again.” He’s nearly panting and you open your mouth to question him but he grabs your hands and drags them back to his wings. “Go on, my love, they’re yours to touch. Do it again.”
You nearly whimper as you hesitate, your fingers brushing the delicate things gently, unsure of being so harsh again. But the gentle touch only seems to set him off, his eyes rolling slightly as he moans. You question if they’ve always been this sensitive, if every time you’ve brushed them he’s held back a moan like that. It’s enough for you to touch them a little more firmly.
You let out a soft squeal, your nails scraping against him in surprise when his palms find the backs of your thighs, unwrapping your legs from his waist and pressing them to your chest in a fluid motion. The angle is dizzying and new and it makes you see stars almost immediately.
“Shinsuke…” his name turns into a whine as you feel him press into you further, feeling him stretching you out more than he ever has before.
You’re the one panting now as he folds his body over yours, his forehead resting against yours so he can take in how pretty you look scrunching up your face in an effort to accommodate him pushing deeper into you than he ever has before.
“You look so beautiful, my love,” he mutters, catching your next moan with his lips as he kisses you. “You’d be a beautiful queen,” you whine out as he punctuates the thought with a thrust, your fingers grasping for his wings again, earning yourself a loud groan in return. “Fuck.” He curses and pants as he picks up his pace, erratic and dizzying for the both of you as you moan against his mouth.
“My love, carry my heir…” You think you mishear him for a moment until he lifts up slightly, his hands folding you impossibly more, his thrusts knocking the air out of you. “Won’t you?” he asks, and there’s a hint of pleading behind his tone that had you looking up at him with a dazed expression on your face. “Please,” he whispers, and it breaks you, “please, please, let me give you my heir.”
You can’t help how you nod. “Wanna give you everything you want, Shinsuke,” you mumble and scrape down his wings again, reveling in how he hisses for it, “please.”
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TAGLIST - OPEN
@all-in-the-fandoms @pearl-blue-musings @qichun @yellowsakurablossoms @ibby-miyoshi-nerd
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cynicalrosebud · 3 days
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Rumor Has It (9)
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Masterlist
Series Masterlist
CW: Adult clubs, sex, flirting, implications, you are responsible for your own media consumption
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Rumor lingered by the hangar, watching as the rest of the team went off to debrief. He knew he couldn’t avoid Nikolai forever, not after what had just gone down in front of everyone. As the others disappeared, Nikolai finally approached, his boots barely making a sound against the concrete. The familiar scent of leather and gunpowder lingered in the air around him.
“You have been avoiding me,” Nikolai said, voice casual but with a knowing edge.
Rumor gave a half-hearted shrug, refusing to meet his eyes. “Ye know how it is. Busy with the missions... lads always needing somethin’.” He shifted his weight, suddenly feeling the press of old memories and emotions he’d thought he’d buried.
Nikolai chuckled softly, his voice low and smooth. “And yet, you find yourself here, alone. Waiting for me?”
Rumor turned to face him, eyes narrowing. “Wasn’t exactly waiting, mate.”
“Oh?” Nikolai took a step closer, his presence as commanding as ever. “Then why not leave with your team?”
Rumor could feel the heat rising to his face again, the tension between them thick in the air. “Maybe I thought we needed ta clear the air. After... well, ye know.”
Nikolai’s smile was slow and knowing, the kind that always made Rumor’s heart race. “Ah, yes. That night.” He tilted his head, studying Rumor with an intensity that made his pulse quicken. “It was... memorable, was it not?”
Rumor huffed, trying to keep his cool despite the growing pressure in his chest. “That’s one word for it.”
Nikolai stepped closer again, his hand reaching out to gently tilt Rumor’s chin up, forcing their eyes to meet. “You have changed, Rumor. But you are still you. Still the man I remember.” His thumb brushed the edge of Rumor’s jaw, sending a shiver down his spine.
Rumor swallowed hard, his voice a little too tight. “Yeah? And what man’s that, Nik?”
Nikolai’s grin softened, a glint of something fond behind his teasing tone. “The one who needs control more than he admits... but still craves giving it up to the right person.”
Rumor’s breath caught in his throat, the weight of Nikolai’s words settling heavy on his chest. Memories of that night came flooding back, of the way he’d felt completely at Nikolai’s mercy—safe, exposed, and terrified all at once.
“You always did have a way with words,” Rumor muttered, trying to mask the way his heart was pounding.
Nikolai chuckled, the sound warm and familiar. “I am just observant.” He finally let go of Rumor’s chin, but the space between them felt even smaller now. “We both know there is something here. There always was.”
Rumor sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to get a handle on his thoughts. “Maybe. But we were different then.”
Nikolai’s eyes softened, and for a moment, he looked less like the cocky pilot and more like someone Rumor had once trusted, had once given more of himself to than he’d ever intended. “People change, Rumor. But some things stay the same.”
Rumor didn’t know what to say to that. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to.
After a long pause, he finally spoke. “Nik, about back there... with the lads...”
Nikolai raised an eyebrow, amused. “Embarrassed?”
Rumor scoffed, though the heat in his face betrayed him. “Not embarrassed. Just didn’t expect them te find out.”
Nikolai’s laugh was soft, his voice teasing. “They would have found out sooner or later. But I think they enjoyed it, don’t you?”
Rumor rolled his eyes, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Oh, aye. They’ll be on my arse about it for weeks.”
Nikolai smirked, leaning in slightly. “Well, they don’t need to know everything.”
Rumor shot him a look. “Don’t push your luck.”
Nikolai’s smile turned playful, his voice dropping lower. “I never do, little mouse. I just know how to read you.”
For a moment, they stood in silence, the air between them heavy with things left unsaid. Despite everything—despite the time, the missions, and the miles that had stretched between them—there was still something there. Something neither of them could quite let go of.
Finally, Nikolai stepped back, giving Rumor some space. “I am glad we had this talk,” he said, his tone sincere.
Rumor nodded, feeling both relieved and a little unsettled. “Yeah. Me too.”
As they moved to go about their business, Rumor called after Nikolai, his voice lowered slightly. “Yer still gonna pay for that teasing later.”
Nikolai chuckled, his voice low and teasing. “I look forward to it, little mouse.”
Nikolai gave him one last, lingering look before turning to leave. As he walked away, Rumor let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
He might have changed, but some parts of him were still tethered to the past—and to Nikolai.
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