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a-romantics-guide-to-life · 1 day

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⋆ ₊ ☽ ·˚𓍲𝓱𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓼 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓵 𓍲˚· ☾ ₊ ⋆

𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: you and billy love each other so much but sometimes it seems you are doomed to repeat the sins of your father.

𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰: billy the kid x reader

𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓼: angst (but this time with a happier ending!), yelling, anger, talks of underage drinking and underage sex, talks of daddy issues, established relationship

𝓪/𝓷: i have a million other drafts but i was very much inspired to write this immediately so... enjoy : )

You and Billy loved each other to the moon and back. Really, you did.

The first time you two had met was magical. Sunsets and nights together plagued your memory as soft kisses and warm embraces accompanied love that spilled over the top.

You had been running away from a home that was more like a prison. Ever since your mother died, your father had been slaving away at work and giving up the rest of him to alcohol, whores, and blunts.

You knew it wasn’t healthy for you father, and you tried so goddamn hard to resist, to change, that you ended up falling into the sins of your father as well.

You slept around and at the tender age of 17, drunk the nights away in your house where your father would only come for a new shirt and new pants.

You tried so hard to atone once you finally found yourself, the prison of your mind had finally been opened and you could finally see the daylight once more. So, you took every worldly possession of yours and fled. You took a horse and rode as far as you could, only stopping at small rivers and streams to get water and rest for a bit.

It was exhausting, running from town to town as far away as you could. But that was when you found a darling little town right by the mountains to stay in, it was quaint and plenty of people were looking for new employees.

You particularly fell in love with this small apothecary shop. It was run by Mr.Edwards, a darling old man who treated you more like a grandchild rather than an employee. He had given you a place to stay and food to eat as you helped him procure all kinds of herbs and spices grown at the foot of the mountain.

Many people had called you a witch, some called you a healer.

Billy thought more along the lines of Angel.

When Billy first laid eyes on you, he couldn’t help but fall in love. He had brought in this poor cat who had been so skinny that she was near death.

Billy had been frantically trying to find anyone who would help the poor feline when he happened upon you while hysterically begging every passerby if they knew any vets in the town or anyone who could at least help the poor cat Billy had decidedly named Precious.

You had dropped your basket onto the ground and immediately held out your arms taking the kitty into your arms to take a look at what ailed the poor precious little thing. You had immediately decided that Mr.Edwards would be of much more help than you so you urgently asked Billy to take your basket with him and led him to the shop where you were able to make some medicine and feed Precious.

As you took care of Precious you had also inadvertently started taking care of Billy.

As time went on, Billy didn’t feel the need to run away from this town, from you. He was so very happy whenever he was with you, eyes dazzling and lips perfect for kissing.

You two were in love, so so so in love.

Billy stayed as did you. He stayed even when Jesse rode into town looking for the hydrangea eyed cowboy. You stayed even when Billy rode out to Lincoln to help his buddies. He stayed even when Mr.Edwards died and you decided to keep the shop. You stayed even when Billy started working with Tunstall, even bringing one of their weekly meetings to your home.

You two stayed for each other, that alone spoke volumes more than “I love you.”

But sometimes, the long day apart and short nights together were exhausting. Most nights you were already asleep when Billy got home.

He’d defeatedly kick off his worn leather boots and hang his hat on one of the old worn out wooden chairs at the table. He’d take his blouse of the day off and throw it at the foot of your shared bed where you would lay sleeping peacefully, dreaming of a day when you and Billy can forget the world and live happily ever after together, forever.

Billy’d curl up next, arms wrapping themselves around your waist as he pulls you closer to him. You’d shift, feeling Billy’s warm chest against your back and his strong arms wrapped protectively around you. Even Precious would feel Billy’s presence because without fail, she’d strut into the room, her tail held high as she jumped up and onto the bed curling right next to your and Billy’s entangled legs.

In the morning, you would wake much earlier than Billy, hesitantly pull yourself away from his protective and loving hold and head out for the day. Breakfast was always ready for him since you’d always make enough for the both of you.

It was always so lonely. Sure, sometimes you’d wait up for him in the morning and Billy’d try to get home super early just for you but it wasn’t enough.

Especially when the war started.

Billy knew you were strong enough to handle yourself, he made sure of it. He taught you how to shoot, how to fight hand to hand, even knife work.

Billy had known exactly what he had signed up for by joining Charlie and the Regulators. Long weeks filled with running and shooting down the House. Weeks spent in Lincoln slowly blended into a month. Billy’s days were no longer filled with your sweet smile and slow loving moments but rather vicious bloody days where he’d dream about your loving gaze meeting his eyes and pray you were still safe.

You rarely saw Billy during those periods of time. You had understood why he undertook the heroic mission of helping Lincoln but it still hurt, especially to admit, that he had chosen to help the town rather than stay with you. You still loved him of course, nothing could ever make you stop, and you were so proud of him for standing up for what was right but it got lonely. Alone, you could handle yourself pretty well, but nothing could get rid of the loneliness leeching onto you, sucking all happiness and joy from your soul.

Billy still wanted you protected so he had asked one of the Regulators to follow you, from the house to the shop to the darling shop you always bought lunch and pastries from to your supplier. Billy knew you wouldn’t like it but he couldn’t help but assign one of them to make sure you were still safe. He even forced them to send him weekly letters updating him on how you were. He felt so bad, a war raging so violently in his mind that he couldn’t even sleep.

He missed you. He missed your smile, your tender gaze, your humor, your love. Billy misses all of it.

As did you. You missed Billy so much that you had started to write his name as your own in orders from the shop. You missed Billy so much that you had to sleep in your old bedroom because sleeping in the room that you and Billy had shared hurt too damn much to be alone in that room.

And that’s how you spent your time. All by yourself, you spent the winter months worrying about Billy, trying to tell the boy who had been following and, supposedly, protecting you to leave you alone. You worked yourself half to death. You could barely stomach any food from the nervous stone that settled in your stomach. You were angry, sad, happy, depressed, joyous, nervous, just everything all at once. You felt like you were going crazy, you decided to write letters to Billy, none of which he responded to. You’d almost got on your horse and rode out to Lincoln yourself to see what was going on over there.

Of course, the young boy watching you had expressly stopped you and forced you to turn around. He gave you a bullshit excuse telling you that Billy was fine, alive.

You didn’t believe it. You knew Billy, he was probably making sure everyone else stayed alive, slaving away at night strategizing new ways to make the House sweat. You knewI he’d be putting everyone before himself and you knew that sooner or later he’d make a mistake and he’d pay the price.

If only you had been wrong.

“He’s been shot! He needs help NOW!” One of the men yelled, a bleeding Billy being hoisted on his and another’s shoulder.

You had been sitting by the balmy fire, trying your best to stay warm in the dead of winter. Truth was, you couldn’t sleep. It was one of those nights where you missed Billy so much that you couldn’t sleep unless his big polar bear arms were wrapped around you.

You were startled awake when a loud banging sound came from your door. You reached for your shotgun as you stalked carefully towards the door only to be met with two young men holding a bleeding, unconscious Billy.

You started moving immediately, running upstairs to grab towels and a basin of water. You quickly moved everything off the table, laying down the creamy white towels. The men laid Billy down, a soft groan escaping his pale lips.

Your heart raced, a strong erratic drum beat ringing in your ears as unshed tears burned behind your eyes. You pressed your hands to his wounds, one on his chest, one on his upper arm.

“We need to undress him. I have some medical supplies in the bathroom down the hall, will one of you get them?” You turned to the taller one with who had taken off his hat. He nodded, racing down the hallway to the bathroom.

Your attention went back onto Billy. “Will you help me take off his shirt?” You turned to the one Billy had made follow you. He froze, his eyes moving erratically from the door to Billy.

You looked to the door only to see that another man walked in.

“How’s he Tom?”

“I- uh I dunno, h-he won’t s-stop bleedin sir.”

“Now don’t you sir me, ain’t no superior o yours.”

The two complete strangers continued their back and forth all the while you had tended to Billy all by yourself.

The other one finally came back with the medical box. You nodded your thanks before getting to work.

You were washing your hands before even one of the men came up to you. They figured it was better to let you work.

The feel of Billy’s, your Billy’s, blood on your own hands nearly made you vomit. It hurt to know that the first time you saw Billy in months was under these grim circumstances. Him bleeding out on your dining table where you two used to kiss so softly in the early mornings; you wrapped wearing a dress that Billy had once called the most brilliant shade of you, hands stained red with his blood.

“Hey miss, are you okay?” Asked one of the men. You turned to him, his hat in his hands, his eyes trained on the ground.

You wiped your hands, your skin was raw and tingly from rubbing them so hard against the gruff towel.

“‘M fine, just didn’t think that the first time Billy comes home in nearly two months would be because he was shot.”

He looks up at you, “Charlie Bowdre ma’am, I’m one of the farmers fighting with Billy on this noble cause.”

He held his hand out to you, you gingerly took his hand shaking it.

“‘M very grateful you brought him back in one piece though, and so quickly too. Who knows how high his chances of survival would’ve been if you had gotten him here even one minute later.”

Charlie nodded and walked away, leaving you to the silence that your home offered.

Billy felt a sharp stinging pain as he hazily woke up. His eyes adjusted to his surroundings.

He felt himself panic, his heart rate spiking as he felt that he was no longer wearing any clothes or in the cold harsh New Mexico winter.

He sat up suddenly, pain sharp as barbed wire wrapped around his torso shooting up his spine, a groan leaving his lips. He looked around, squinting at the bright room he was in.

A loud thud drew his attention to you in the doorway, tears flowing down your peachy cheeks. The clean bowl in your hands was now on the floor at your feet as you hurriedly ran to Billy who lay on your bed.

Billy opened his arms as you collapsed right into him, a soft sigh leaving him as he buried his nose into your hair. You sobbed into his shoulder, his bare torso wet from your tears.

He wrapped his arms weakly around you, a dull pain shooting up and down his body racing around as he felt you cling onto him harder.

You pull away for a brief moment, your warm, tender, loving hand moving Billy’s clingy curls away from his face as your hand cups his cheek, kissing him tenderly.

He pressed further into you as his calloused hands remained steady on your hips. He rests his forehead against yours, his breaths slowing down. No words needed to be spoken amongst you two, the silence comforting to the two of you.

You finally look up at his topaz eyes as his eyes search yours. You press another soft kiss to his chapped lips, the feel of his rough and bloody lips on yours enough to light a fire within you to find whoever hurt your Billy.

“How’re you feeling Billy?”

“‘M good now ‘m back ‘ere with you.” He smiles softly.

You sit up straight, distancing yourself with Billy. You don’t miss the flash wave of hurt that overtakes Billy’s eyes.

You stand, your arms crossing across your chest in indignation. “And you have come back, but after how long? Hmm? Has it even occurred to you that the first time I see you in months shouldn’t be because you’re running from the House or from the Law or whoever hurt you?”

“Baby, pretty mama, ya know I’d never ever want t’leave ya, right? Darlin’, I don’t want you caught up in all this fightin’.”

“Billy,” You sit next to the wounded outlaw, your hands coming to cup his face. His stubbly chin leaning into your hand, “I can help you and your friends. I know you know that, and yet you still left me. Love, I can handle myself, you made sure of it.”

“But I can’t protect you out there, every night, every day, I can’t always be there for ya Angel.”

“Billy, that’s the whole point. You don’t need to protect me, I can protect myself, I’ve been protecting myself.”

“Darlin’, ain;t no one out there that knows what tomorrow brings. I jus’ don’t wanna lose you.”

You scoff, “Exactly Billy, yet you seem to throw yourself out there anyway. I missed you, so much that it killed me to know that you could be dead out there. Dead! And I wouldn;t even know until your people send one of those poor farmer’s sons to tell me. I mean has it ever occurred to you that maybe, just maybe it would be a good idea to send me proof of life or something, maybe even, I dunno, a response even one of the letters I sent you?”

“Angel…”

“Billy, you don’t need to coddle me, okay? You don’t need to hide me from the war you’re fighting. I told you, I can help! I’ve been through much much worse I guarantee. And you can barely protect yourself, I mean just look at yourself! You came home bloody and bleeding and I had to fish TWO bullets out of you, TWO! If you think that you are in any condition to fight out there, even to protect me then you sir, have another thing coming for you. If only you had let me he-”

“You will not involve yourself in this war, you hear me Angel. Never. ‘M sorry you feel that way and ‘m sorry I hurt you darlin’ but we are done talking about this, you will stay here for your protection.” He yells, standing up from the bed, towering over you. His nostrils flare and his arms grasp your own in his large hands.

You shake his arms off of you, turning away and walking to the door, burning, unshed tears welling in your eyes. Billy grabs your arm pulling you to him, your face pressed into his muscular chest. His arms came up to cradle your head, holding you there.

“Pretty mama, you have to understand,” he brings his hand to tilt your chin up, his deep ocean eyes, “I can’t lose you.”

His thumbs rub your cheeks. You bring your hand up to cover his, his touch inviting you to lean into the familiar warmth of him.

“Billy, I can’t lose you either. Which is why you have to let me help you.”

“Baby, it’s not safe out there. Who knows what kind of monsters are out there to take you away from me darlin’.”

“Billy, love, I’ve been with those monsters before, I once called them family. I drank and ate with them as have you dearest. Ain’t nothing out there that could take me away from you, over my dead body.”

He nods solemnly and kisses you so gently, you’re afraid of breaking the moment into a million shards. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, breathing him in as you kiss him again urgently. Slowly, he lifts you up and carries you two back onto the bed, leaving everything to the wind.

sorry for another long one, hope you enjoyed! (lets also not mention how long it took me to post this)

#hope this was good!#billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid 2022 #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #billy the kid fanfiction #missing billy hours #loving billy hours #emi sanity

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cherriecove · 18 hours

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Fine Line Between Duty and Oaths (Part 10)

Gwayne Hightower x Targ!Reader

Summary: The second born daughter of King Viserys I Targaryen and Queen Aemma is just as brave, beautiful and stubborn as her older sister but cannot deny her growing love for a certain red haired knight who just so happens to be a dear friend's brother.

Cherrie's Note: Hi everyone, I am pretty sure that this is the longest thing I've written so far so I hope you enjoy! Please feel free to message me about feedback or even requests!

Masterlist | Previous Part |

The days leading up to the royal wedding passed in a whirlwind of excitement and anxiety. The Red Keep was bustling with preparations: tailors from all over the Seven Kingdoms had arrived, vying for the royal family to honour them with their patronage. Banners were being hung, and the kitchens were filled with the sweet smells of honey cakes and roasted meats. Despite all the joy of the impending union, there lay an undercurrent of tension. It was no secret that the small council was urging your father to remarry, and the matter seemed to grow more urgent with each passing day. As you walked through the halls, the main topic of court appeared to be about who would become your new stepmother, rather than your wedding to Gwayne.

The uncertainty and the constant presence of this topic felt like a weight upon both you and Rhaenyra. The already anxiety-inducing thought of leaving your dear sister to start your life as a married woman gnawed at your heart, as if you were leaving a part of yourself behind. This heartache was worsened by the knowledge that another woman would soon replace your mother in the eyes of the people. The marriage would most likely be political rather than one of love; this was the one thing you were most certain of. The encouragement to remarry stemmed from the small council's dislike of Rhaenyra being named heir—they favoured the possibility that this new bride might provide your father with sons. The preference for following patriarchal ideals had already taken your mother’s life, but it seemed the gods were not satisfied with that alone and now wished to replace her legacy. The loss of the queen was still felt deeply within your family, but neither you nor Rhaenyra could ignore the fear of losing the closeness your grief had forged with your father.

One evening, as you sat in your chambers with Rhaenyra, the reality of your departure felt all the more inevitable. Your elder sister was uncharacteristically silent, something you found unsettling. It wasn’t like her to be so withdrawn. As you sat at your vanity, you studied her face while she focused on brushing your hair—a habit you often shared when you both needed to be close. Her eyes were fixed on her task, and her usual smile had been replaced with a slight frown. Rhaenyra paused, her hand stilling in your hair, and tension radiated off her in waves. Just as you were about to ask if she was alright, she broke the silence.

"I don’t want you to leave me, hāedar," she said quietly, her voice tight with emotion.

You met her eyes in the mirror, and an aching tug filled your heart.

"I don’t want to leave you either, Nyra," you replied softly. "But I have to. Gwayne and I are to make our vows, and I want to be with him."

Rhaenyra pressed her lips together, her brows furrowing as she resumed brushing your hair, though her strokes were slower and more hesitant.

"It feels like everything is changing," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "First it was Mother and the baby, and now you. It feels like we’re losing something or someone every day. I haven’t been alone since you were born. How will I manage when you’ve been taken away?"

Her words struck a chord within you, her feelings mirroring your own. You reached up and gently grasped her hand.

"You will always have me, mandia. Regardless of where I am. And we will see each other—I’ll make sure of it."

Rhaenyra smiled at your words, but it didn’t reach her eyes, which were filled with unshed tears.

"I know. But it will never be the same. And with Father… I don’t know how I feel about him choosing a new wife."

You nodded in understanding. The idea of someone else stepping into your mother’s place felt like another loss.

"It won’t be easy," you admitted. "But we’ll face it together. Whoever he chooses, we’ll make sure she knows who we are—that you are our future queen, regardless of any children she may provide."

Rhaenyra’s eyes softened as she squeezed your hand.

"Promise me you won’t change. That you’ll still be the sister who sneaks lemon cakes with me, that you won’t let Oldtown turn you into a pious, boring courtly lady."

You laughed, a pure, genuine sound that lightened the air.

"I promise you, no distance will ever change that."

The morning of your wedding was quite possibly the busiest you had ever seen the Keep. The clatter of maids and seamstresses rushing about the halls mingled with the hum of excitement as the final preparations were being made. You stood in your chambers, surrounded by Rhaenyra, Alicent, and your handmaiden. Rhaenyra and Alicent had been constant presences in the last few days, ensuring they spent as much time as possible with you before the separation. They had even arranged for the three of you to have baths together, with lots of warm water and scented oils often becoming the main feature of Rhaenyra’s chambers. Despite the tension between your father and Otto Hightower, Alicent had remained steadfast in her friendship; her quiet support had been a source of comfort. The bond between you now felt more like that of sisters than mere friends.

As Rhaenyra worked on securing the last intricate braid of your hair, Alicent helped you slip into your wedding gown, her movements careful and delicate. The gown itself was a masterpiece—your father had spared no expense. The dress was woven with Valyrian silver threads, with the Targaryen dragon embroidered subtly across the bodice. The long, flowing sleeves echoed the ancient gowns of Old Valyria, a nod to your roots and your father’s passions.

"You look beautiful," Alicent whispered, her voice soft with admiration.

You glanced at the red-haired girl, smiling warmly.

"I feel like I’m floating."

Rhaenyra, having finished with your hair, stepped back to admire her handiwork.

"As you should," she teased lightly. "You’re marrying a knight and flying off to Oldtown. Just don’t forget us when you’re there."

You turned to face both of them, taking a deep breath.

"I could never. I have two sisters close to my heart now. You and Alicent—you’re both part of me."

Rhaenyra’s lips quirked into a small, bittersweet smile, while Alicent’s eyes grew glassy with emotion.

"How dare you make me feel things," Rhaenyra jested, attempting to lighten the mood.

The Great Hall was filled with nobles from all corners of the realm, their finery on full display. The banners of House Targaryen and House Hightower hung side by side, symbolising the union of two powerful families. At the head of the hall, King Viserys sat on the Iron Throne, his expression a mixture of pride and lingering sadness as he prepared to watch his daughter take this significant step in her life.

The ceremony was a mesmerising fusion of Targaryen and Faith of the Seven customs, each tradition seamlessly woven into the fabric of the day. The Septon stood tall before the gathered crowd, his hands raised in solemn prayer as he called upon the blessings of the Seven to watch over you and Gwayne. His voice echoed through the grand hall, invoking the Maiden for purity, the Warrior for strength, the Father for protection, and the Mother for guidance. Yet, while the blessings of the Seven were important, it was the Targaryen rites that truly resonated with you, their significance running deep within your bloodline. As the moment approached for the Valyrian vows, your heart raced with anticipation, swelling with emotion and history.

Before you stood Gwayne, the man who would soon be your husband. Clad in the green and white of House Hightower, the colours were striking against the backdrop of the ancient hall. His hand reached out toward you, fingers steady yet tender. His gaze was unwavering, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with an unspoken promise. Despite the grandeur of the occasion—the regal banners that hung from the walls, the flickering candlelight casting a warm glow, and the countless eyes upon you—everything else seemed to fade. In that moment, it felt as if the world had narrowed to just the two of you, standing together, united in purpose and love.

You were the first to speak, your voice soft yet strong, carrying the weight of generations. The ancient words of your ancestors flowed from your lips like a melody, each syllable steeped in tradition and meaning.

"Nyke rūvēbagon ao, issa jorrāelagon. Ēlīrion ziry arlī. Naejot nūmāzma, nyke pāsagon bē naejot ziry rūsīr." I bind myself to you, my love. From this day until the end of days, I will walk with you.

The Valyrian words, so familiar yet sacred, hung in the air between you, like an invisible thread tying you both to the past and to the future. You could feel the weight of their meaning settle in your heart, binding you to Gwayne in a way that transcended time and place.

Gwayne met your gaze, his eyes shining with both love and determination. You knew how hard he had worked to master the unfamiliar Valyrian tongue, spending days—perhaps weeks—practising these very words. When he spoke, there was a slight tremor in his voice, not of fear, but of the significance of the moment. His pronunciation stumbled ever so slightly, but his sincerity was undeniable.

"Nyke rūvēbagon ao... issa jorrāelagon. Ēlīrion ziry arlī. Naejot nūmāzma... nyke pāsagon bē naejot ziry rūsīr."

Your heart softened as you listened to him. Though the words were foreign to his tongue, their meaning was not. In his voice, you heard the depth of his love, his willingness to embrace not only you but the traditions that were so deeply a part of who you were. His love for you, and his commitment to your shared future, radiated from him like a beacon, stronger than any stumble over the ancient language.

A soft smile played on your lips, the intimacy of the moment enveloping you despite the opulence of the hall and the presence of so many witnesses. It felt as though time had stilled, and in that suspended breath, the two of you stood at the precipice of a new beginning. Your worlds—Targaryen and Hightower—were being brought together, not only by this union but by the promises you had just made to one another.

The ceremony continued with the exchange of rings, the smooth metal sliding onto your finger, a tangible symbol of the vows you had spoken. The Septon offered final blessings, his voice rising once more in prayer, but you barely heard him. All you could focus on was Gwayne, standing there, as bound to you as you were to him—by vows both ancient and new, by fire and faith.

When the final blessing was given and the hall erupted into applause, you felt a wave of joy surge through you. Gwayne turned toward you, his face lit up with warmth and joy, his smile wide and unguarded. Without hesitation, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that felt both tender and triumphant. Around you, the crowd’s cheers rose, their voices blending together into a sound like the distant roar of dragons.

The Great Hall was alight with celebration after the wedding ceremony, its high vaulted ceilings echoing with laughter, music, and the clink of goblets filled with the finest wine from across the realm. Long tables were laden with platters of roasted meats, sweet fruits, and delicacies meant to honour the union of House Targaryen and House Hightower. Banners bearing both houses' sigils fluttered overhead, the Targaryen dragon and Hightower beacon intertwined in a show of unity.

You sat at the head table beside Gwayne, your hand resting comfortably in his, fingers interlaced as if you couldn’t bear to be separated even for a moment. He smiled at you, a soft, adoring expression that warmed your heart. The hall was loud and vibrant, but the world felt quiet and intimate in the small bubble you both created. You couldn’t stop stealing glances at him, the reality of your marriage still sinking in. Gwayne was yours now—your husband—and you, his wife. The weight of that truth was thrilling.

Across the hall, Rhaenyra and Alicent exchanged looks, both beaming at you with obvious joy. The tension that had shadowed your lives since your mother’s passing seemed to lift, if only for this night. Rhaenyra caught your eye, a mischievous glint in her gaze, and you knew exactly what was coming next. She stood abruptly, waving a hand to the musicians, and the hall quietened for a moment before erupting into cheerful applause as the first notes of a lively dance filled the air.

“Come on, dear sister,” Rhaenyra called from her place, grinning widely. “No wedding is complete without a dance!”

Gwayne chuckled softly, squeezing your hand as he stood and extended it to you. “Shall we?”

You felt your cheeks warm as you took his hand, allowing him to lead you to the centre of the hall, where couples were already gathering. The music swelled, and soon you were twirling under the twinkling lights of the Great Hall, Gwayne’s hand steady on your waist, guiding you effortlessly through the steps. His laughter was infectious as you spun together, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You dance far better than I expected for a knight,” you teased, breathless from the movement.

“And you, my princess, dance with all the grace of a dragon taking flight,” Gwayne replied with a smirk, his tone playful.

You laughed, the sound bright and carefree, and for a moment, the whole room felt distant. It was just you and Gwayne, your hearts beating in time with the rhythm of the music, a perfect match.

As the song drew to a close, Rhaenyra pulled you away from Gwayne, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "You’ve had enough of your husband for now," she teased. "It’s time for the sisters to share a dance."

You twirled with Rhaenyra next, your hands entwined as the two of you moved effortlessly through the dance floor. Her smile was genuine, full of love and happiness for you. “I’ll miss you,” she said softly as you spun together, her voice barely audible over the music.

“I’ll miss you more,” you replied, your chest tightening at the thought of leaving her behind in King’s Landing. But for now, there was no sadness—only joy, only this moment.

Alicent soon joined the fray, pulling you both into a playful circle, the three of you laughing together as you danced. The bond between the three of you felt stronger than ever, and though there had been difficult times, it was clear that the friendship and love you shared could endure anything.

As the lively reception continued, the sounds of music and laughter filled the hall. You had been swept into the rhythm of the evening, dancing and speaking with guests, but as you stepped away for a moment of air, you found your father standing near the edge of the courtyard. The warm glow of lanterns illuminated his familiar face, making the silver strands in his hair catch the light. He smiled when he saw you approaching, his eyes filled with pride.

“You look radiant tonight,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, but steady as always. "Just as beautiful as your mother was on our wedding day."

His words made your heart tighten with affection. You reached out and took his hand, feeling the callouses that had been there for as long as you could remember.

“I wish she could be here,” you whispered, your voice softer now, filled with a longing that had been quietly sitting in the back of your mind.

“She is here, my sweet girl, in the love we carry forward,” he said, squeezing your hand gently, a quiet reminder of the legacy you had inherited. “And I can see so much of her in you, especially tonight.”

You leaned into him, finding comfort in the familiar embrace of your father. It felt good to share this moment with him. “Thank you, Father. For everything.”

He looked down at you, his gaze serious. “This is only the beginning, my daughter. You and Gwayne will face challenges, but always remember that family comes first. Lean on each other, trust each other, and never forget the strength that comes from unity.”

As the music played on, you looked back toward the hall, where Gwayne was chatting animatedly with Rhaenyra and Alicent, laughter bubbling around them. Your heart swelled with affection for him. He was your partner, your equal, and together, you would navigate whatever lay ahead.

After several more dances and rounds of wine, the energy of the hall began to feel overwhelming; the excitement was almost too much to bear. You exchanged a knowing look with Gwayne, who seemed to read your thoughts immediately. His hand found yours again, and with a small, playful smile, he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“Shall we sneak away, my love?” he murmured, his voice low and full of mischief.

You grinned, feeling a rush of exhilaration. “Lead the way, husband.” With careful steps, you slipped away from the throngs of people, unnoticed as the revelry continued in full swing. Gwayne guided you through the familiar stone corridors of the Keep, your hand tucked securely in his as you moved swiftly past guards and courtiers. The cool, quiet halls felt like a world apart from the boisterous celebrations, and your heart raced with anticipation.

Finally, Gwayne stopped, pulling you into a secluded alcove near one of the grand windows overlooking the city. The moonlight bathed the room in a soft, silvery glow, and for a moment, the two of you stood there, catching your breath, laughing at the thrill of your escape.

“I think we’ve officially abandoned our own wedding feast,” Gwayne said with a grin, his eyes dancing with amusement.

“I think they’ll manage without us for a little while,” you replied, stepping closer to him. The playful atmosphere shifted as the space between you disappeared, the weight of the moment settling in. You were married now, bound to each other for life, and the realisation sent a shiver of excitement down your spine.

Gwayne’s hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. “You know, I never imagined this,” he said softly, his voice filled with awe. “Marrying you, being here like this. It feels... unreal.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with love for him. “It feels perfect.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You simply stood there, gazing at each other, the magnitude of the day sinking in. Then, as if drawn by an invisible force, Gwayne leaned down and kissed you, his lips soft and warm against yours. The kiss was slow, tender, full of the promise of everything yet to come. Your hand grasped his tunic, your senses focused solely on him.

When you finally pulled apart, you were both breathless, but your smiles spoke volumes that words couldn’t convey. “Well,” Gwayne said with a playful smirk, “I suppose we should return to our guests before they notice our absence. Though I wouldn’t mind staying here a little longer.”

You laughed, tugging him toward the hall again. “Come on, husband, let’s not give the courtiers something to gossip about on our first night as husband and wife.”

Gwayne groaned dramatically but followed, his hand still clasped in yours. “As my wife commands.”

Hand in hand, you returned to the feast, your hearts full and your souls bound, ready to face whatever life had in store for you together.

The Great Hall gradually quietened as the feast drew to an end. Guests trickled out, content with food, wine, and revelry, while the musicians played the final soft notes of a ballad. You and Gwayne remained at the head of the hall, but you could already feel the subtle glances cast your way, the unspoken expectation that the bedding ceremony should commence soon.

But that moment never came.

King Viserys, seated beside his daughters, had made it clear to the courtiers: there would be no bedding ceremony. No raucous crowd of drunken nobles tearing at your clothes, no jeering chants echoing through the castle halls. Instead, the King rose to his feet, silencing the last whispers, and raised his goblet in a final toast to the newlyweds.

"Tonight," Viserys declared, his voice steady yet warm, "my daughter and her husband shall have their privacy. I trust them to find their own way together, with no interference from us. Let this be the start of their journey, not only as husband and wife but as partners, as equals."

A murmur of approval swept through the hall, though some lords seemed disappointed by the lack of spectacle. Gwayne stood beside you, his hand once again finding yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Relief washed over you, grateful for your father’s understanding.

After the final goodbyes were said, the two of you were quietly escorted to your chambers. The flickering candlelight cast soft, golden shadows on the stone walls as the door to your room closed behind you, leaving you and Gwayne alone.

For a moment, there was a brief, almost shy silence. Both of you had been caught up in the whirl of the day—the ceremony, the feast, the dances—that now, in the stillness, the enormity of it all began to settle in. You were married. You had chosen each other, not just for duty but for love, and that realisation filled the space between you with a new kind of energy.

Gwayne turned to you, his expression soft, his smile gentle. “Are you as nervous as I am?” he asked, his voice laced with tenderness and a hint of vulnerability.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and warm. “Perhaps a little,” you admitted, stepping closer to him. “But mostly... I’m just happy. So very happy.”

His hands found your waist, pulling you gently toward him, and you felt the warmth of his body seep into yours. “I am too,” he whispered, his lips brushing your forehead. “I never thought I would marry someone as captivating as you.” There were no words needed after that. The tenderness between you both, the love you shared, was enough. The night passed in quiet, stolen kisses and whispered promises of forever. There was no rush, no pressure, just the sweet unfolding of two hearts finally joined, fully and completely.

Afterward, you lay together in the quiet of your chambers, Gwayne’s arm draped protectively over you as you rested your head on his chest. The warmth of the hearth, the soft rustle of the sheets, and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat created a cocoon of peace around you both.

“I was thinking,” Gwayne murmured, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin. You smiled and pushed yourself up, looking at the red-haired young man. “A dangerous pastime for you, no?”

Gwayne laughed and shook his head. “Yes, indeed. My brain is about to implode at the effort of my princess.” You laughed and settled back down to your earlier position, encouraging your husband to continue. “Anyway, before I was rudely interrupted, I was thinking about what our life will be like in Oldtown. Do you think they’d allow us to build a dragonpit there?”

You looked up at him, your eyes twinkling with amusement. “A dragonpit in Oldtown? Surely the septons would have a heart attack.”

“Well,” Gwayne said, grinning, “we’ll need somewhere to house Vermithor and Silverwing, won’t we?” You smiled, the thought of your dragons resting in Oldtown sparking excitement. “It’ll have to be large enough, though. Not just for them.”

Gwayne raised his eyebrows in a questioning manner. “Well, we need a place for all their future clutches. Our children will be part dragon after all.” He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your hair. “Of course. We’ll need to plan for a whole brood of dragons. Oldtown might not know what to do with itself when we arrive.”

The idea of building a future together—not just a home but a legacy—filled you with joy. You could see it clearly: the two of you in Oldtown, your dragons soaring over the city, your life filled with love and adventure. It was a future you hadn’t dared to dream of, and now it was within your grasp.

The morning of your departure arrived all too soon. The excitement of the wedding had faded into a bittersweet calm, and the reality of leaving King’s Landing—and Rhaenyra—was heavy on your heart.

Rhaenyra stood by the stables, her face tight with emotion as you approached. You knew this was hard for her. The two of you had been through so much together, and now, the idea of being separated felt like a deep, aching wound.

“You’ll visit,” she said, her voice soft but firm, as though she were willing it to be true.

“Of course I will,” you replied, pulling her into a tight embrace. “I’ll fly over whenever I can, and you’ll always have a place with us in Oldtown.”

Rhaenyra squeezed you tightly, her breath catching as she held back tears. “It’s not fair,” she whispered. “Emā ōños lantra syt tolī... Nyke daor ivestragī iā ao nūmāzma.” We’ve already lost so much... I can’t bear to lose you too.

“Ao daor ivestragī nyke,” You’re not losing me, you reassured her, your own tears threatening to spill. “Īlva mandia iksi. Daorun ivestragon ziry.” We’re sisters. Nothing will change that. Rhaenyra pulled back slightly, her violet eyes glistening with emotion. “Nyke jorrāelagon ao,” she said softly, her voice breaking. I love you.

“Se nyke jorrāelagon ao,” you whispered back. And I love you. “Va moriot.” Always.

Alicent appeared beside you, her own eyes watery, though she managed to keep her composure. “Don’t be a stranger,” she said, giving you a small smile before wrapping you in a warm hug. “Oldtown isn’t so far, you know.”

You smiled through your tears. “I’ll write, and you can visit too. There’s plenty of room for all of us.”

When it was time to say your final goodbye to your father, King Viserys, you could see the sadness etched into his face. He pulled you into a long embrace, holding you tighter than he had in a long time.

“I’ll miss you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You’ve always been the rational one, the one who tempered Rhaenyra’s fire.”

You smiled softly, feeling the lump in your throat grow. “She’ll be fine, Father. She’s strong. But I’ll miss you too.”

Viserys pulled back, his hands resting on your shoulders as he looked at you, his eyes full of pride and sadness. “You’ve made me proud,” he said quietly. “Go and build the life you deserve. And know that you’ll always have a place here.”

With that, the final goodbyes were said. Gwayne helped you into the carriage as you saw Vermithor and Silverwing circle overhead. Your heart was a mixture of excitement and sorrow as you waved to Rhaenyra and Alicent until they were no longer in sight.

#hotd x reader #hotd #house of the dragon #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #gwayne hightower #gwayne hightower x reader #targeryan reader

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romugh · 1 day

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hello! I love your nerd!nat content so much, you mentioned soft fics coming up as well? I’m so excited for them😭 any chance we can get a sneak peak at one of them?

could I maybe request for a nerd!nat x jock!reader fic? they went to the same high school together but Nat would purposefully avoid R so they never really became friends, she would only allow herself to have these small interactions with R out of fear that her crush would worsen. To Nat, if she didn’t really know R then that meant only being into the idea of her and that made the crush manageable to Nat in a way, she doesn’t think she had a chance because R’s a crowd favorite.

Once they reach college Nat avoiding her isn’t possible, she didn’t even know that R was gonna be attending the same college as her where coincidentally her mother Melina is the track team’s coach. Melina is especially focused on training R since she’s her top athlete, maybe Nat hasn’t been assigned a roommate yet and Melina asks the college to make R her roommate. Melina’s reasoning is that she thinks R will focus more with a roommate Melina can trust won’t distract her, but she doesn’t even ask Nat seeing no issue with the plan (Melina does this roommate thing with all her athletes). Then in the unveiling during all the events (you decide idk what to do after that) we discover that R’s also been interested in Nat but thought she wasn’t good enough for her. To R, the way Nat always seemed to thwart their interactions made it feel like R wasn’t interesting or smart enough to be Nat’s friend much less someone that Nat could be into.

soft fics indeeed! here's a lil sneak peak into one!! :)

oh my GOD i love your brain. i LOVE IT. i'm most definitely adding this to my urgent wip list, i'll be writing on this whenever i'm bored!

it might end up being a small series (3parts? 4? unless you want it in one long fic obviously, or a longer series even? :D), if that's okay with you! AHHHH I LOVE YOUR BRAIN.

#romugh slays #YOU slay #love you anon #romugh's anons #romugh's requests

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ghoulbats · 1 year

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What if I proposed to u before you got remarried

if she plans on remarrying me then i think a duel between you and jess would be in order to see who gets my hand in marriage, a fight to the first blood with your weapon of choice, perhaps?

#i say if bc she ABANDONED me for emails today #and the urgent one wasn’t even urgent!!!#…i mean i’m glad she had a nice holiday too but STILL #also ->#/j #see i’m doing the tone indicator for you mogar i gotchu😤#i agree it would’ve made the message less funny although the follow up actually made it way funnier #which btw i’m keeping bc it makes me smile #i also think you’re cool btw :3 #one of the cooliest in fact #<3

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garciapimienta · 8 days

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I hate doctors so much

#actually just a very specific doctor #i was supposed to get a check up for one specific thing in 2021 but it wasn’t actually urgent #i mean went in 2020 to this doctor he made me do a bunch of tests and concluded everything was fine but just to monitor the issue I should #redo some of those tests one year later #thing is I never did it but now I was like whatever I’ll go again ask him for the paper to be able to do the studies and get it over with #so I went and he told me everything was still the same as when I first went so I didn’t need to do the tests immediately but to just #get them done next year (again as a check up/to prevent any issues developing)#but the thing is he tells me I need two tests and one of them is an abdominal ecography #and i hate those like I can’t explain it but they are the one medical thing that gives me anxiety #so I just asked him since it’s not super relevant to my issue if that test was a MUST bc I would prefer not to do it #and he was like it’s not a must for YOUR issue but you should get it done bc it’s important to do these every once in a while #so he’s literally forcing me to get this ecography done even if it isn’t even necessary for MY thing #like sir the rest of my health is not your concern this is not what I’m coming to you for #im coming for this specific issue leave me alone #personal

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tonycries · 6 months

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A Picture Lasts Long (But Not As Long As That D*ck)

Synopsis. Smile for the camera - as best you can when you’re being absolutely wrecked in all sorts of ways underneath them anyway!

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Choso x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Geto x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, exhibitionism (Toji’s), mutual másturbation, phone séx, créampie, oral (female + male receiving), vibrators, bóudoir, manhandling, marking, Gojo is a menace, fíngering, dp, face-sitting, some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 3.8k

A/N. Was gonna add Sukuna but I feel like he’d hate modern technology.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - The internet sensation

“Whaddaya say, you horny fuckers? Think she deserves to cum?”

Now, Toji Fushiguro is always one for extra cash. Who wasn’t, really? So when you approached him with a devious idea, well, how could he ever say no to his pretty girl?

He just didn’t think he’d be here - your bare legs splayed out on his lap, dripping cunt spread so shamefully, buzzing vibrator deafening over your pretty moans - all in front of that blinking camera. And the hundreds of thousands behind it.

“T-Toji, wan’ cum. Wanna cum so bad, please.” you mewl. Big, fat tears dripping down your cheeks at the way he’s been teasing you for so long now. You can barely make out the rush of comments flashing across the screen.

The camera captures everything so sinfully well. The way your cunt is completely soaked, clenching desperately around nothing as Toji slides the vibrator along your swollen folds. Circling your needy hole, just grazing your swollen clit. Teasing them just as much as you.

Pathetic fuckers, he thinks, but entertains their desperate comments anyway.

“Hmm, they’re saying I should let you cum, pretty.” he whispers in your ear, low and hoarse with need. “Saying I should be ‘nice.’”

He brings the vibrator - now glistening with your slick - to his lips. Licking a long, languid stripe up it, collecting your sweet juices on his tongue. Turning it ever-so-slightly towards the camera to show off what the fuckers behind it will never get, he hums dangerously, “What do you think, my girl?”

You gasp out a sob, uselessly trying to buck your hips toward where you needed him the most. “Please, Toji. Wanna cum, I’ll do anything.”

“Oh yeah?” he chuckles, spreading your legs open even further with a feral groan.

In one, fluid motion, he buries the vibrator deep in your dripping cunt, relishing the surprised yelp that leaves your swollen lips. “Then show ‘em how much you like it, pretty. How much you love me not being ‘nice.’”

And that’s all that is said before he’s fucking you into you at an urgent, sinful pace. Pulling out all the way till the buzzing tip just circles your swollen folds, ramming into you with no care or concern for the burning stretch. Toji knew you liked it - besides, it was half the size of him anyway.

“C’mon, smile for the camera, pretty.” he grunts into your ear, “Tell ‘em how I make m’girl feel.”

You can barely choke out, “Ah! Oh- shit. S’good. Hngh-”

Blood rushes straight to his cock at the way you were taking it like such a good girl. Head lolling against his muscled shoulder as Toji pushes the vibrator in and out in and out in and-

“Yeah? Who makes you feel this good?”

Angling it just right to expertly hit against that one spot he knew would have your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Ngh- Ah! You!” you whine, thighs quivering at both the burn of being so spread open and the electricity coursing through your veins at Toji’s relentless pace. Mind spinning, vision blurring, you barely register the hand snaking its way down down down.

A harsh thumb pressing down hard on your throbbing clit. “Wha- Toji hah-” you squeal as he starts drawing slow, tight little circles on it. Lazy and languid where he was fucking into you mercilessly like you were his lil’ toy right below.

“Tha’s right, my girl. Say it for all those lonely little fuckers behind the camera to hear.” He doesn’t stop thrusting the vibrator into you, instead speeding up his movements impossibly at the lewd squelches filling the heady air.

“You. No one- else- hngh-” you moan softly hips bucking up in tandem with his hand. “M’gonna- Ah ngh- m’gonna-”

“Say my name, pretty.”

“T-Toji! Hah-” you squeal deliriously, cumming desperately around the buzzing vibrator. Walls clenching as he continues to fuck you through it. A smug little smirk on his face as he watches the way your eyes flutter closed, body bowing jerkily into his.

Ah, you look so pretty like this. Those losers behind the screen were probably at the gates of heaven already.

In the haze of your orgasm, you barely hear the low murmur from above you. “Now, you horny fuckers. Think her pretty hole can take my cock at the same time?”

♡ GETO SUGURU - The secret album

Geto Suguru doesn’t let anyone touch his phone - especially his photo gallery. Always turning off the screen from prying eyes, pocketing it safely before flashing an innocent grin.

But why? That one time Shoko stole his phone while he was in the bathroom revealed only a few blurry, aesthetic shots of you, the sky, and you. So what did that man have to hide?

Well, what she didn’t know is had she scrolled down just a bit more - before Geto ripped the phone from her hands - she’d have come across the treasure trove named with a simple “Love.”

Not one, not even tens - but hundreds upon hundreds of videos of you all falling apart underneath him.

Most of them favorited, all of them sorted so meticulously according to his tastes in a way that showed he spent an obscene amount of time looking at all the ways he ruined you. But it wasn’t enough to capture your perfection. It never was.

Which is probably why Geto had you sitting prettily on his face, juices spreading so lewdly across his mouth as he tonguefucked you into insanity.

The video was shaky, focusing in and out of the way your bruised lips dropped into a soft oh! as he bullies past your swollen folds.

It zooms in on the dazed expression on your face, eyes miles away. “Oh, Suguru. M-more” your broken moans crackle through the speaker. Just barely capturing the soft ah! ah! ah! escaping your lips each time Geto’s tongue dips into your sloppy hole.

Oh, this video was definitely going in his favorites.

“Take the phone, love. Show the camera how good I make you feel.” he murmurs into your dripping cunt, words hoarse with desire.

And Geto might love you on film - but this was your favorite part. When the camera flips and you see him in all his disheveled, sinful glory. “Ah- y’look so pretty under me, Sugu.”

Dark hair splayed out on the pillow, stray strands sticking to his forehead as he looks at you with hazy, pussy-drunk eyes. His ringed fingers holding your thighs apart in a bruising grip. Lips glossy and swollen as they continue their abuse on your ravaged pussy.

Flattening his tongue along your swollen folds, sliding teasingly between them. Your slick glistens in the dim lighting, dripping down down down the lower half of his face.

And Geto, well, looks like he’s absolutely in heaven. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he licks at his girl’s pretty cunt, tipping his head back further just to let your sweet juices slide down his throat.

You’re so focused on how pretty he looks that you almost miss the long fingers deftly snaking their way along your thigh. Spreading your swollen folds apart with his thumbs, he whispers raspily, “Shit. No video in the world can capture how pretty you look like this, love.”

The pure look of admiration has the camera shaking, and you sputtering out, “Wha- Suguru what nonsense-”

“Shhh, my girl. Lemme take care of it.”

And with that he’s sinking knuckle-deep into your pussy, while his ruby lips wrapping around your swollen clit. Zooming in desperately on the way he rolls his tongue harshly along it, sucking so sensually. Like a man starved.

“Ah- hngh, Sugu. Feel s’good.” you gasp as he starts thrusting his fingers inside you. God, you don’t know how you don’t drop the phone at this point, white-hot jolts of pleasure running up your spine from where Geto was making out so sloppily with your cunt.

Tears sting your eyes as he curls his fingers just right to brush against that one spot that has you bucking into his mouth for more more more- Hitting it over and over-

Fingers tangling in his silky hair, the video grainy with movement as you use it as leverage to grind deeper into Geto’s face. Chasing your high with an almost-embarrassing neediness. Close. So close.

A muffled, “Cum f’me, love. Cum for the camera.”

And then you’re cumming. Stars behind your eyes, and Geto’s hungry gaze searing into your brain - and the video - as you chase peak after peak on his pretty face, grinding down desperately. Your vision is hazy, head spinning.

But Geto’s is decidedly not as he quickly skims through the obscene video, lips still attached with yours.

Ah, damn these cameras. No matter how high quality, he could never quite capture the delicate trail of drool decorating the corner of your lips. Or the exact pattern of the neat crescents that your nails leave on his chest.

They could ever quite capture the perfection that was you.

But it’s fine.

That’s what multiple takes are for, right?

♡ NANAMI KENTO - The photographer

Nanami Kento wasn’t into photography - which didn’t quite explain the tripod and hefty camera set sitting in the corner of his office.

No, he was more into absolutely fucking ruining you in front of the camera just to capture a semblance of how heavenly you look for him. Which, well, explains the countless framed photographs decorating the walls of his often-locked office. Nothing extremely explicit - but enough to make a stray onlooker blush and look away.

And well, how could you say no? Especially when he had you bent over his desk, leaking tip dragging teasingly along your swollen folds, camera aimed right at the way you lean into his cock.

Cold tabletop digging into your skin, his fingers warm on your pulsing clit. Drawing tight, methodical little circles. So like him.

“C’mon, darling. Arch your back more f’me like a good girl.” he murmurs lowly, breath hot against your ear.

As if on autopilot, you press further into his swollen cock. Sliding it deftly between your folds, just aching for any bit of friction. “K-Kento, please-.” you babble, delirious from him and his piercing gaze and him.

“Mhm, spread your legs more f’me. Yeah, jus’ like that, darling.” he mutters, voice steady with the audacity of someone that wasn’t grinding his rock-hard cock into your dripping cunt. Hips moving in shallow, mindless little motions despite himself. Yet, holding back so agonizingly.

So, you take matters into your own hands.

Slowly, purposefully, you lift yourself higher, arching so desperately into Nanami’s throbbing cock. The soft little bump! bump! bump! of him pulsing against your walls a tempo that you were losing your sanity to. And if you were in any better state of mind, you’d be almost embarrassed by how needy you were acting. “Kento! Wan’ you to fuck me alre-”

You don’t get to finish the sentence, because Nanami only takes a second to snap back his hips before pressing into your dripping cunt. The stretch of your walls absolutely addictive.

Click!

Ah, there was the perfect shot.

All the blood rushes to Nanami’s cock at what showed on the screen - the exact moment that he split you apart on his cock. Your eyes wide, mouth parted ever-so-slightly, such an obscene mixture of shock and ecstacy painted across your face.

His girl was so beautiful. Especially when she was stuffed full of his cock.

“This is what you wanted, right?”

One hand steady on the camera, the other pulls you deeper onto his cock as Nanami begins to move inside you. Pulling out all the way till his leaking tip is just circling your sloppy entrance - only to ram his length into you mercilessly.

“My girl wanted to be full of my cock?” he hums darkly, “S’full she can barely even speak?” Hungry eyes devour the way your pretty pussy was milking him so greedily, barely even letting him pull out to fuck back into you harder than before.

“Ah! Yes- hah-” you breathe out, “”Wanted hngh- s’bad-”

He maps every curve and dip of the way you grind down onto his cock, taking in the obscenely heavenly sight of his cock disappearing into your pretty pussy - and so does the camera.

Click!

Another one - your eyes locked onto Nanami’s. Dripping cunt just barely in the frame as he continues ravaging you from behind.

Back arched, such a sinful little expression on your face as you buck your hips wildly to meet his thrusts. As frantic as the hasty little movements of his thumb on your throbbing clit - not even circles anymore, just sloppy, sinful motions to get you off.

“Hah- please Kento,”

Click! Click!

Oh, if Nanami had it his way these photos would decorate every hallway of this house. For everyone to see.

“Wanna- hngh- wanna cum, Kento.” you mewl, ass stinging from where Nanami’s toned pelvis smacked yours at a ceaseless, maddening cadence. Clit now ravaged from both his ruthless abuse and the heavy balls smacking against it with each thrust.

Click! Click! Click!

“Then cum, darling.”

You see stars behind your eyes as you cum - or maybe that was the unforgiving camera. Capturing each and every detail of the way eyes, dazed and fucked-out, lock onto Nanami’s. Swollen lips dropping into such a pretty oh, Kento! Pushing yourself from the desk on shaky arms to arch so sinfully as Nanami goes over the edge as well.

Camera shaky for the first time as he twitches inside you savagely, before pumping thick, hot ropes of cum into your quivering walls. Trickling down your legs so lewdly, pooling at the sterile floors below - a problem for later.

Click! Ah, another gem for his walls.

♡ CHOSO KAMO - The urgent calls

When Choso video calls you, you know never to answer in public. Why? Well…

“Cho, what is- Oh.” Your words catch in your throat as you take in the absolutely sinful sight on your screen, cunt clenching in anticipation as you slowly bury deeper into your covers.

Legs spread on the bed, such a pretty blush dusting his face, throbbing erection leaking furiously on his toned abs - your boyfriend was an absolute vision.

“Baby…” he whines, sending a jolt of pleasure right down to your cunt. “Was missin’ you today.”

Ah, you can’t help but tease him a bit. Raising a brow, “Oh really?”

Despite his absolutely ravaged state, Choso finds it in himself to scoff, “M’serious. Jus’ thinking about that slutty pink bra you had on today. How much better it would look on my bedroom floor.”

A large hand makes its way on screen, deftly snaking down his milky skin - down, down down all the way from his abs, resting just at the tufts of black hair at his toned pelvis. Waiting. Teasing.

Now it was your turn to scoff, pussy twinging impatiently at the way he was so stubbornly waiting for you to break first. Well, two can play that game.

Unbuttoning your shirt slowly - so agonizingly slowly - revealing just a flash of that pink he wanted so bad. That rips a low groan out of Choso, precum smearing on his palm as he squeezes his swollen cock. Success.

“C’mon now, baby, don’t tease. Be a good girl f’me.”

Batting your lashes mockingly, “You first.”

You always did know how to get what you want, huh? Because with an impatient little grunt, Choso spits a steady stream of saliva once, twice onto his furiously red cock.

Your mouth waters as he grips the base tight, so achingly hard and flushed your favorite shade of pretty pink. Precum leaking down his glistening veins, pooling at the heavy balls that twitch at the mere sound of your voice as you mutter, “Oh. You really did miss me.”

“Mhm, your turn.” he gets out through a low hiss, desperation bleeding through your speakers and into the heady air. Starting to pull on his cock in shallow, mindless little tugs - just the way you do it.

Finally relenting, you slip off your top, reaching for the clasp behind your when-

“Keep it on. Now spread your pretty legs for me, baby.”

Choso’s greedy eyes are locked on the screen as you flip the camera, showing off your already-soaked panties. Oh, you little minx.

“Shit. You don’ know what you do to me, baby.” he groans, movements getting jerkier. Fist flying up and down his cock - just wishing his hands were yours. Ah, how yours would be softer, prettier, straining to cup his thick cock. “C’mon now, my girl. Show me you wan’ me just as much.”

God, Choso thinks he could cum right on the spot as you hastily remove your wet panties, delicate trails of slick connecting them to your pretty cunt as you slide it down your legs. Yet, he manages to find it in himself to grit out a low, “Touch yourself the way I would, baby.”

And, well, you don’t need to be told twice.

Bullying your fingers through your swollen folds, thumb just grazing your throbbing clit. Purposefully teasing yourself - purposefully not giving in to what you craved so bad. No, you were too entranced with what was onscreen.

With the way Choso was fucking his fist so desperately. Like he was trying to fuck something delicious out. Harder on the base, featherlight on his flushed head. Thumb teasing under the slit just the way you would.

“Shit- Oh, baby,” Choso groans, his hips bucking wildly as if he could somehow close the distance between you. His grip on his cock almost painful as he pounds into his hand. Ah, how you wish that was your hand instead.

Your fingers dip lower, rubbing your entrance. A thrill running through you at the way Choso’s eyes widen as you slide a finger inside yourself with a whine of his name.

“Need you here with me, need to feel you around me,” you pant, rubbing against your clit in time with his fist, eyes locked on the way his throbbing cock twitches in his hands at the mere sound of your voice. Palm running up and down up and-

“Choso, just come here an’ fuck me already.”

You catch a glimpse of his eyes flickering closed, breath slowing, a satisfied smile curling his lips and then- thick spurts of cum covering his toned abs. Glistening so deliciously in the dim lighting as Choso strokes himself through his high.

You on the other hand…

“Cho~ Can’t cum without you here.” you hum coyly, slightly whiny yet not desperate - not yet.

“Get ready, baby. M’gonna be there in five.” Ah, how you loved when Choso video calls you.

♡ GOJO SATORU - The wallpaper fiend

Gojo Satoru loved to show off his wallpaper, babbling about his “beautiful girlfriend” as he flashed the picture to any and everyone he came across.

It wasn’t anything strange, really - just a slightly blurry photo of the upper half of your head, eyes slightly scrunched like you were in the depths of laughter. It’s only when someone stares too hard, finger pressing just a bit too long that Gojo snatches back his phone with an unreadable little smirk.

Because if they had they’d notice it was a live wallpaper.

One that - despite being so proudly the great Gojo Satoru’s wallpaper - was for only his eyes to see. One where the camera shifts ever-so-slightly downwards to show you splayed out deliciously on your mattress, pale, sculpted thighs straddling your face - zooming in on the way your swollen lips bulge wraps so lewdly around his throbbing cock.

“Oh, sweetheart, jus’ look at you.” his voice rumbles from above, voice hoarse with desire. “Taking my cock so well, huh?”

All he gets are muffled groans, tears glistening in your eyes as Gojo shoves his length deeper down your throat. He chuckles lightly, fucking into your hot mouth in small grinds of his hips, “Oh yeah, forgot you can’t speak sweetheart.”

Ah, what a smug bastard. And despite the dick lodged in your throat, you find it in yourself to stare up defiantly into his greedy gaze, moaning sinfully around him. That makes that confident facade crumble a little, the camera is shaky as Gojo lets out a broken little, “Sh-shit. You’re really asking for it.”

And maybe you were a mastermind - maybe you were an idiot. Because Gojo pulls his hips back till his leaking tip is just kissing your kiss-bitten lips. Smearing his precum around your glossy mouths. Only to slam back into you mercilessly, forcing you to relax your throat - because Gojo’s had enough of playing game

His searing grip on your scalp just out of the frame as he fucks into your mouth like his personal toy. Not stopping till your nose is pressed into the snowy white tufts of hair at his pelvis.

Camera scrambling to capture the way your throat bulges so obscenely as he fills you up, starting to fuck into you in shallow, mindless little thrusts. “Mmm, ngh. Fuck, sweetheart. Can feel me inside you right…” A large, veiny hand makes its way into the video as it wraps around your throat, squeezing. Tight. “...here.” Gojo rasps over your choked-up moans.

Tears were streaming down your face now, nails digging desperately into the hand wrapped around your throat. But it seems Gojo had no care in the world for them. Because he coos mockingly, “Awww, don’ cry, sweetheart. Jus’ look at that slutty mouth of yours, sucking the fucking soul out of me.”

And as the screen grows grainier, the camerawork more shaky - Gojo’s hips grow more frantic.

Cock hitting the back of your throat at a maddening cadence in a way he wishes the camera could pick up. Hand tightening around your throat as he fucks into you faster and deeper. Hip chasing the feeling of your tongue wrapped so deliciously around his throbbing cock. Delicately tracing the veins along the side, flicking his sensitive slit just the way you know he likes. Over and over-

The screen flashes white - or maybe that was just Gojo’s cum. Shooting thick, endless spurts of his seed that paint your pretty face white. And oh, this was his favorite part, how you take it so well.

Your tongue darting out to catch the stream of cum that gushes out of him, pooling it on your tongue before letting it slide to the back of your throat. Eyes gazing up so eagerly into his as you stick your tongue out to show, well, nothing. Taking him up so greedily.

And if Gojo was any less of a man, he’d be showing this off to everyone he knew. And in the end, before the wallpaper goes back to that seemingly innocent picture of your face - if he turned up the volume real high - Gojo could hear his voice in the background, breathing out through ragged gasps. “C’mon, sweetheart, I wanna make a few more wallpapers.”

A/N. LMAO this came to me when I thought about how Gojo is the type to have a polaroid of your tits behind his phone case.

Plagiarism not authorized.

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chuluoyi · 2 months

Text

𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

- zayne x reader

he is your husband and you are his wife. but of course you know the bitter truth—you will never be able to replace her.

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—angst, hurt/comfort, unrequited love, drunken sex, mentions of injury, blood, hunter!reader (not l&ds mc -> l&ds mc is zayne's late ex-girlfriend here), spoilers! from zayne’s bond story nostalgic sweetness

note: wc. 8k ! i've been having these bits and pieces scenarios for zayne in mind and then i thought what if i combined it all into one angst joyride? :)) tagging per request: @kissxcore @rjreins @i2s2m @tom-pls-fuck-me @yueyoonie @sanriosatoru

07.15 p.m

Zayne would be getting off work soon. He had just finished an emergency surgery, and it had been exhausting. Now it was quite late.

“Dr. Zayne! Great job today!” Greyson exclaimed, suddenly strolling into his consultation room with a grin. “Want to grab dinner with us?”

Honestly, he was starving too. “Where?”

“Oh, you know, that new place that just opened nearby! They have the tastiest tiramisu, or so I’ve heard. C’mon, we’re inviting the nurses too!”

He knew he needed to head home soon, but fatigue and hunger blurred his thoughts at the mention of dessert.

“Alright.��

. . .

08.25 p.m

Getting together with the hospital staff was always nice. They were rowdy, but it was definitely a great way to unwind after a hard day.

The tiramisu was as great as Greyson said. Speaking of his assistant, he and Yvonne were having a blast. Other doctors were getting drunk. Zayne could only shake his head, and it suddenly dawned on him that he had been here quite a while.

It was only when he turned on his phone and saw the time that he realized, with sinking heart that—

He was supposed to meet you at six.

If you were asked how you felt about your life now, you’d be hard-pressed to say you were completely content.

You were a stellar fighter in the Hunter Association, more than content with your job, and you had a good husband. To some, you had what they would call the perfect life.

The wife of the Dr. Zayne. True, it was a flattering title, yet unbeknownst to everyone, also a humbling one.

And the notion struck you once again when your husband of almost two years stood you up on your dinner date without so much as a notice.

“Miss... we’re about to close now...” The waitress approached your table for at least the third time, and you nodded sheepishly, finally finishing your meal.

You paid for it and left the restaurant. The chilly night air hit your skin, giving you goosebumps as you walked home. It wasn’t the first time this had happened. Granted, Zayne had a packed schedule, and you figured he might've had an urgent matter to attend to that he forgot to let you know.

Still... it hurts. Knowing you were not a priority in your husband’s eyes wasn’t a fun feeling.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket the moment you arrived at your shared home. Your husband’s name flashed on your screen. The time now was 08.40 p.m.

“Hello, Zayne?”

“Y/N?” Your husband’s voice sounded frantic. “Are you still at the restaurant? I’m going—”

“Ah, no need to. I’m going home.”

“I’ll pick you up then. Stay there—”

“I’ve already arrived.”

An awkward silence settled between you, and you could clearly hear the noise on the other end. Greyson’s laughter was unmistakable.

You forced a laugh, still trying to sound cheerful for him even when realizing that he had completely forgotten about you. “It’s totally fine, Zayne! Are you heading back?”

“Yeah...”

“Take care then. See you at home.”

You ended the call with a sigh, trying to shake off the sting in your heart. As you made your way upstairs to your bedroom, you passed by a large portrait on the wall, and a bittersweet sensation washed over you.

Your wedding photo. Both of you were smiling on what was the most wonderful day of your life. Zayne’s smile was reserved, but yours was radiant.

It is the most wonderful thing that has happened to you... but is it the same for him?

At that time, despite everything, you were convinced a lifetime of happiness awaited you, yet now... it got harder to fool yourself into believing it.

Your marriage has always been lukewarm.

Zayne wasn’t an overly excited person, and you were his opposite—but try as you might, some things between you just didn’t work out. As a result, both of you tended to keep certain things to yourselves.

Most days, this didn't bother him. He valued his privacy, so the way things were suited him just fine. However, several days later, when Greyson approached him with a worried expression and a news, even Zayne had to draw the line.

“Dr. Zayne? Uh, how do I say this? I think I saw your wife being wheeled in earlier with the injured from the hunt zones raid…”

. . .

“Your husband is a doctor here. Why aren’t you calling him?”

Xavier, your fellow Deepspace Hunter who was partnered with you in this mission, questioned you with a hint of annoyance as he observed your pathetic state on the stretcher and crossed his arms. “Why do you have to bleed out in ER when you can get him?”

You winced, pressing the bloodied cloth against your stinging abdomen as you felt yourself growing faint. “He’s... a surgeon,” you panted. “He’s busy.”

Above all, you didn’t want Zayne to see you like this. You could already imagine his angry face, and that mental image alone made you recoil.

“What sort of husband is busy when his wife is injured?” Xavier raised an eyebrow. “Did you at least notify him?”

You shut your eyes, feeling a migraine coming.

“I will then.”

“No.”

“Y/N, you—”

“Shut up, Xavier—”

The curtain was suddenly pulled back, and you braced yourself for whoever had come to check on you next. To your surprise, the cloth in your hand was snatched away, and you felt your uniform being torn open with urgency.

When you opened your eyes, you barely made out your husband’s figure through your hazy vision. “…Zayne?”

His expression was stern, unforgiving even, as he started to disinfect your wound. Despite the tension, you couldn't deny the relief that washed over you. You knew you were in good hands, even if you had to face his fury later on.

Your consciousness slipped away not long after that.

. . .

The next time you woke up, you found yourself in a private room, with a nagging itch where you had been injured.

You groaned, your limbs stiff and heavy, and the room slowly came into focus—along with your husband's face.

"Zayne?" Your voice came out barely above a whisper. He stood pristine in his white coat and glasses, assessing you with a scrutinizing gaze.

"Your wound is, thankfully, shallow," he said flatly, his tone lacking any real concern. "You'll be discharged tonight. I'll take you home as soon as my shift is over."

"Ah..." You blinked several times to clear your head. "Good then. Sorry for showing up out of nowhere. Xavier and I were on a rescue mission, and I accidentally—"

He walked away before you could finish, the abruptness snapping you fully awake. He was furious, that much was clear.

"Ha ha..." You forced a laugh, fiddling with your fingers, trying to ease the awkward tension between you. "It doesn't hurt much, actually. You're right—I'm fine..."

Zayne shot you a sharp glance. "You passed out due to blood loss."

"This isn't the first time it has happened and nor will it be—"

"And it didn't even occur to you to inform me at all. I found out that my own wife was wounded because Greyson passed by the ER and saw you."

His words left you silent, caught red-handed, but your annoyance was reaching its limit. You had imagined how nice it would be if he panicked about you, showering you with care when he found out. But instead, Zayne chose to rebuke you the moment you woke up.

“I’m not a child,” you reasoned, keeping yourself calm. “I’m a hunter. This is nothing new, and you should understand that.”

“The least you could’ve done is to tell me—“

“Do you know why I didn’t? It’s because I know how you’ll react!”

“—and it would do you better to prioritize your safety and not rush headfirst into danger.”

“Believe me, I do but—!”

Suddenly, Zayne spun around to face you, his eyes blazing with fury as he raised his voice. “I’ve told you so many times already, you have to stay back, or you’ll end up—!”

He stopped abruptly, leaving his sentence hanging in the air, but right at that moment, you knew all too well who he meant, and what the implication was.

His, without a doubt, greatest love. His childhood friend, a hunter like yourself, someone he had vowed to save but succumbed to her illness before he could do so, died on arrival.

The irony was sharp. You had become everything she once was. You knew her well, too. When she passed, the entire Hunter Association mourned her loss. And more than that, on the night she died, you had been with him.

Looking back, you should have seen it coming. Still, it hit you like a splash of cold water. Your husband was still preoccupied with thoughts of his ex-girlfriend, and worse yet, he saw pieces of her in you.

And you suspected he had for a while—perhaps even, from the very beginning.

For a second there, not for the first time, you felt your heart shatter.

“I don’t have Protocore syndrome,” you stated, steeling yourself against the heartbreak. “My heart won't suddenly fail because I get injured. I’m not that weak.”

You turned away as Zayne refused to respond, missing his look of disdain as he stormed out of the room.

That was when your first tear fell.

Right from the start, you knew you had to brace yourself for this. You knew that eventually, this tragedy would overshadow your marriage. Because while Zayne might be your husband by law, deep down, his heart still belonged to someone else.

To her.

You two are too much alike.

It wasn’t the first time he had noticed it. And it wouldn’t be the last.

On bad mornings, when his eyes were bleary and he hadn't had a good sleep, he would see her instead of you in your shared bed. And with that mistaken sight came a fleeting sense of relief... until his vision cleared and he remembered she was truly gone and it was you.

Zayne knew how wrong this was on so many levels. It was terribly unfair to you.

Still, his concern for you was genuine. Seeing you lying still on the stretcher brought back that very same nightmare, and really, he truly never wanted you to be hurt.

After his outburst and your clipped response, the two of you barely exchanged any words for the rest of the week. To make matters worse, he was sent on a business trip the following week, and all in all, you went two weeks hardly speaking to each other.

And before he knew it, her death anniversary was only a couple of days away.

. . .

"How much is this?"

"Ah, the bow is 50,000 Gold, sir!"

Inside the airport's souvenir shop, Zayne examined the intricate light blue and white bow clip. Made of tweed and adorned with small pearls, it looked nice.

He thought it'd suit you well.

"I'll get this then."

"Right away!"

As the clerk went to wrap the trinket, Zayne reflected on these past two weeks. A nagging feeling twisted in his gut as he thought about how curt he had been with you in text messages and how often you had left him on read.

Husband and wife shouldn't be this way. He wanted the unbearable air between you to end. Determined to resolve things, he planned to talk to you when he returned. He was on his way to the airport taxi when—

"Zayne!" He stopped in his tracks, recognizing the familiar voice, and turned around.

There you were, waiting by his car with a smile.

It was never in you to stay angry for long. It was a blessing and a curse, really, because while you no longer wished to give your husband silent treatment, a part of you still felt conflicted.

"How was your trip?" you asked as you started the engine, pushing the events of the past two weeks to the back of your mind.

Zayne didn't immediately answer, and you felt his gaze on you as you drove the car. "It was okay."

You hummed in acknowledgement, and he followed up with, "How is your wound? Do you dress it daily?"

"Mm-hm. It's getting better."

"I'll have a look at it later."

"Sure."

Silence. Usually you would ramble to distract him, but now, even you weren’t sure if you should.

Then, he said, "You really didn’t have to pick me up. I could have made my way home on my own."

To that, you pasted on a smile. “You always pick me up whenever I have to go on business trips. It’s only fair I do the same for you, husband.”

Ah. Was it the wrong move? The word had slipped out so easily that you didn’t realize it until after you said it.

But to your surprise, Zayne let out a chuckle and played along. "Well, thank you then, wife. It certainly felt quite off without a certain someone the past week."

So, he actually likes having you around...? The thought made you almost giddy. Despite his usual taciturn and sarcastic demeanor, you knew he was genuine in his own way.

"Bet you missed me," you teased, grinning.

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Are you sure it's not the other way around?"

"Nope. But I did miss getting new snowmen."

"...why do you like them so much? I've made plenty for you already."

"No particular reason. Snowman just kinda reminds me of you somehow."

The tension between you had melted away, and you felt a sense of relief. Beside you, even Zayne couldn’t hide his smile. For the rest of the drive home, you chatted like you used to.

When you arrived back at your shared home, he suddenly stopped and presented you with a little box. "I got you something."

"Huh?" you paused, bewildered, as he took your hand and placed the box in it.

"Open it."

With curiosity, you lifted the lid, and were surprised at the sight of a pretty bow clip inside. "Whoa, how cute..."

Zayne eyed you expectantly. "Do you like it?"

Your eyes lit up with delight, and a smile spread across your lips.

"Yes!" you beamed at him with zero hesitation, and in that moment, something struck a chord within him. Zayne had always thought you were easy on the eyes—

—but when you smiled like that, you were truly charming.

"It's healing nicely."

You felt somewhat self-conscious as your husband examined your bare abdomen, where your injury was, as you lied on your bed. His hands, cool and practiced, tenderly removed your stitches.

It wasn't as if Zayne had never touched you. You two had been married for almost two years, and of course you had been intimate several times, but it wasn't as if you were a passionate couple to begin with—so you often found yourself flustered.

"Mm." Despite yourself, you squirmed. Noticing this, he looked up at you, his unfazed eyes meeting yours with a frown.

"Does it still hurt?"

"No, not really... It just feels as if you're tickling me."

He was positively unamused. "I'm not trying to tickle you."

"I know!"

Zayne wrapped your midsection securely with the bandage. When he was done, he let out a sigh and you felt like you had to show him your gratitude somehow.

“Thank you, Zayne…” you mumbled, avoiding eye contact. But in the next second, your heart skipped a beat as his hand rested gently on your head.

"You can thank me by being more careful next time." Your husband looked at you with the smallest of smile. "Your safety comes first, always remember that."

Without either of you realizing it, you both had tried to bury that argument from two weeks ago, yet it was still gnawing at you all the same. The thought that he too was bothered with it made you warm.

"Noted," you cheekily grinned. "If I'm not safe and sound, a certain iceman will get angry at me."

Zayne shot you an unimpressed look. “If you come to me injured again, I’ll start charging you fees.”

You let out a dramatic gasp. "How stingy! I'm your wife, not just some stranger!"

"A very uncooperative wife, you are."

You huffed, and he chuckled. You really thought all was well between you two now, until Zayne suddenly stood up and grabbed the car keys. “Well then, rest. I have to go.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to stop by the florist—”

And it hit you. In two days. The day everything ended three years ago.

Zayne seemed to realize it too, but you quickly masked your falling smile with a faux one. "O-oh, right..."

No matter how, it's still going to be an important day to him. You had nothing against it, really. Your husband's late girlfriend had once been your colleague too, and you mourned her just like everyone else did.

Still, even with that understanding, in your heart of hearts, it remains just as bitter.

You didn't want to, but you needed to find closure. You hoped that by doing this, it would finally put an end to all your insecurities.

"Let's go together, Zayne. I want to pay her a visit too."

Two days later, you and Zayne, a bouquet of flowers in hand, stood before the grave bearing many colorful flowers and postcards.

You supposed you knew already, but seeing it firsthand, you realized just how deeply she was loved still. The outpouring of respect from the Hunter Association was evident in the tribute left behind.

"It's been a while," Zayne, dressed in his most formal black suit, said solemnly, his gaze fixed on the name etched into the pristine stone.

You watched as he knelt to place his flowers and then brought his hands together in prayer. You followed his lead, placing your own bouquet beside his.

What should you even say to her? Your mind raced with countless thoughts, but none felt right to voice before the woman who had so deeply captured your husband's heart.

In the end, when you sensed that Zayne had finished with his prayer, you decided to remain silent and rose with him.

. . .

“Does it get easier?” you asked out of curiosity afterwards. “Three years has passed already.”

Although Zayne wasn’t one for drinking, even the need won today. He didn’t meet your eyes as he sipped his wine, humming thoughtfully. “Somewhat. As they say, time heals.”

You two stopped by a fine restaurant after visiting the grave. The cemetery had been a two-hour drive from Linkon City, and now it was already evening.

“She loved jasmines,” you remarked, recalling the pot of them you once saw on her desk and the flowers overflowing at the grave earlier.

“She did.” The alcohol seemed to loosen his tongue as he continued, “She loved old popsicles and macarons too.”

“And you like them as well.”

“To be honest, I started liking them back when we were kids…” Zayne had this pained, faraway look in his eyes as he had another sip. “She cried over her melted popsicle and it got me to wonder if it was really that tasty...”

The idea that you had to compete with a dead woman for your husband’s affection left a bitter taste in your mouth. You felt like you had failed thoroughly as a woman.

Despite hating yourself for asking, you needed to know. “Do I help you… in any way at all?”

Zayne was clearly taken aback by the question. His sharp, gray eyes locked onto you, mind whirred as he tried to grasp your meaning.

“Y/N, you...”

It was foolish, you knew. But you waited with bated breath for his response, even when one wrong word could shatter your heart beyond repair. You were ready for any sort of unfavorable answer, but then—

“I... am glad it is you.”

His words made you look up, and you found yourself caught in his gaze. Zayne’s ashen eyes were steady, piercing into you.

“You were there on the hardest days. And ever since, you’ve always stayed by my side.” He held your gaze firmly, voice was thick with emotion you couldn’t quite name. “I’m grateful for that.”

And then, with a sincerity that pierced through every uncertainty, he added, “What I want to say is... I’m glad I married you, Y/N.”

You have loved him for so long. Since the days when you know he isn’t yours to love, until now.

Your heart swelled with so much warmth that tears brimmed in your eyes. His acknowledgment of your presence filled you with a profound sense of belonging you never knew you needed before.

Was it the alcohol?

You suspected it might be, because in nearly two years of marriage, Zayne had never lost his control like this. As soon as the bedroom door was shut, he pushed you against the wall and devoured your lips hungrily.

“Mmph!” His hands gripped your arms while his lips and tongue pried yours open. The kiss was searing, almost forceful, with the faint bitterness of wine still lingering.

“Zay…ne…” you gasped between his kisses—teary, breathless, your voice trembling.

But your breathy grunts only seemed to spur him on. His dark eyes, clouded with lust, fixed on you as his hands slipped beneath your blouse, deftly unclasping your bra with a flick.

He is hot. Your husband was everything a woman desired in a man. Cool, handsome, blessed with hands that could do wonders—

In no time, he had you naked and wet before him, and with alarming speed, he too discarded his own suit and pants, throwing them away in flurry. And you could hardly believe what you were seeing next.

He spitted on his hand, ran it along his member—stroking himself with a practiced ease, never breaking eye contact with you. The next thing you knew, he yanked you into another burning kiss and made you topple on top of him—

“Ah!” his hands guided your hips with precision, positioning you and entering you. The instant he did, you whimpered at the sudden, sharp sting of pain.

“Does it hurt?” he asked almost in a growl when you clung to his shoulder with uneven breaths.

It was too sudden, and you hoped the discomfort would pass, so you timidly shook your head.

“If you don’t want this, tell me to stop.” Zayne tangled his fingers in your hair, turning your face to his. “Understand?”

There was always a distinct, almost commanding aura about him whenever the two of you were in your marital bed. Perhaps the way his voice sound lower, but it just hit different.

And you are a willing prey... whenever he becomes that beast.

He inched inside you slowly, making you moan with each instance. He was thick, warm, and taking him in was a challenge in itself. And when he finally sheathed himself fully, your nails had made its first scratch on his skin.

You felt full, and the way your womanhood stretched and clenched around him with each breathe you took made you dizzy. Panting, you finally met his gaze. Zayne’s silver eyes were still clouded with desire as he placed his hands firmly on your hips. Unable to resist, you reached out to caress his face.

"Hmm..." he subconsciously leaned into your touch, pressing his eyes shut together. "You smell nice," he huskily muttered.

Right this moment, all negative thoughts eluded you. It felt gratifying that your husband sought your touch like this as you towered over him.

And yet, despite that...

“Do you... finally see me now?” you asked, trailing your other hand down his toned chest and starting to grind against him. Zayne drew in a sharp breath and groaned, his fingers gripping your bum tighter.

Depending on his response, you would either find peace or face another heartbreak. You had placed your happiness on this pedestal more times than you could count, and it was a cross you had to bear.

But you never received your answer.

Your husband merely gazed up at you with a dangerous gleam. And oh, you could've sworn, this sight of Zayne eyeing you as if he were about to ruin you right then and there, would live-free in your mind for many days to come.

He then buried his face in your bosom, sucking on you with such fervor that your hands instinctively reached for his head to massage his scalp. The room was soon filled with your erotic groans and the squelching sounds from where your flesh were joined together— as he thrusted inside you over and over.

Right in this moment, you felt truly desired and wanted.

You are so happy. Incomparably so.

At the crack of dawn, Zayne woke with a start.

The first thing he noticed was how spent he felt, his limbs stiff and a throbbing headache pulsing at the back of his head.

Then he turned to his side, and the sight that met him twisted his gut in such a way that snapped him fully awake—

You were beside him, barely dressed and still deeply asleep. Your hair was a mess, and love bites were scattered across your skin, some on your chest looking almost like bruises.

It dawned on him that he, too, wasn’t decent. A sudden coldness gripped him, though it wasn’t just the morning air.

Him and you... last night...

Yesterday marked the third year. He meant everything he said to you, but the fact that he did this, with you, on the day of her death...

There was... nothing wrong with what he had done. You were his wife, no one could condone him for what he instigated. Yet, it still made him shiver.

And to make it worse, his thoughts from last night echoed back with vengeance, and—

He suddenly feels so immensely guilty.

. . .

It was the best sleep you’d had all week.

When you woke, sunlight had seeped through the window, and you discovered yourself already in pajamas, tucked snugly under a blanket. Still groggy with a dull ache in your lower belly, you relished the lingering afterglow, sighing in pure contentment, until you noticed Zayne wasn’t beside you.

Where did he go? You wondered amidst your haze. Sluggish, you stumbled out of the bed, flinching when your foot met the cold floor.

You eventually found him downstairs, sipping coffee at the dining table still with messy hair. "Zayne?"

He glanced up at you and nodded. There was something different about him, a subtle shift you couldn’t quite place. As you took a seat across from him, you hesitated, unsure of what to say.

Before you could find the right words though, he spoke first.

"I'm... sorry," he said, his tone laced with regret, causing a sharp pang of unease inside you.

"What?" you stared at him, feeling small and unsettled. "What are you sorry for?" you questioned as you gripped the hem of your shirt.

And then came the killing blow—

"Last night," Zayne muttered, avoiding your gaze. "I wasn’t in the right frame of mind. It was a mistake."

Mistake. The word echoed in your mind, but it was still hard to grasp its full weight.

"How was that—" you faltered, trembling, as the realization hit you like a truck and you gasped in disbelief. "Oh..."

Her. Again, and again, and again! Even when he was married to you, even when you were the one next to him each and everyday— even so!

Your husband considers that a night spent with you—his wife—a mistake!

The last of your patience snapped, as you broke down in sobs before him. "You're the worst!" you screamed at him amidst your mournful tears.

Zayne seemed taken aback at your outburst, his eyes wide. "Y/N, wait, you don't—"

"Screw you!" But you were beyond explanations at this point. You fled back to your bedroom. Zayne followed you suit, but you slammed the door in his face and locked it. As you collapsed onto the floor, the realization hit you with full force.

No matter what you did, you would always come second—or not at all.

The fracture in your marriage was undeniable.

Things had changed. Your home felt colder, and the tension was so stifling that you sometimes spent the night at the Hunter Association’s dorm just to escape it.

Zayne initially tried to reach out, but you were unwilling to listen, and eventually, he gave up. Before long, nearly a month had passed with this strain in the air.

You threw yourself into more rescue operations, using work as a distraction from the turmoil that lingered in your mind. Despite your best efforts to distract yourself, the unresolved thoughts and feelings clung to you.

"Xavier, am I lacking as a woman?"

Your frequent partner these days cracked open an eye despite his attempt to nap before today’s rescue mission. "What...?"

"No, forget it."

Things couldn't go like this forever. It was obvious by now—as long as he couldn’t let go of his past and you couldn’t accept him as he was, this marriage couldn't be saved.

Just as you headed towards the printer in the room, Xavier responded. "You talk a lot, eat a lot, and always bothering me when I'm about to sleep..."

You shot him an irked glance, disbelief evident on your face. "Hey!"

"But—" his clear voice cut through the air as he turned to you with half-lidded eyes. "You're exceptionally kind. If anyone can't appreciate that, then it's their loss."

At that moment, the ice inside your chest melted. To know that your own co-worker thought that kindly of you gave you a little boost of confidence.

But then Xavier added, "Sometimes you're stupid too. It's funny to watch."

"—?! You're so mean!"

A subtle smile curved on his lips as he turned to his side, ready to resume his nap. "Anyway, what are you printing?"

You feigned a huff as you gathered the papers and brought them to your desk. "Just something I need to submit when necessary."

A part of you wasn’t fully committed to it, of course—it was just that your emotions had no proper outlet even until now. As you pushed the drawer shut, a wave of bitterness washed over you as you reread the title on the blank form:

Petition for Divorce.

Zayne genuinely wanted to treat you well.

You were a nice girl. Too nice even. From the moment he laid his eyes on you some years ago, as a friend of a friend, he knew you were nothing but kind and cheery.

He still remembered that morning vividly: the hurt on your face, the tears welling up in your eyes, and then you breaking into inconsolable sobs. That sight inflicted something in him—it felt as though his own heart had been split in two.

Believe it or not, he cherished you too.

That night, even though he didn’t show it, he was still mourning her. When alcohol took over his mind and he saw you, you seemed like a perfect escape. He thought that even if he forced himself on you, there would be no consequences.

He hated that he had thought that way. He hated that how, in the end, you had become a means of relief for him.

Now you couldn't even look him in the eye, and Zayne didn't want to risk trying to coax you further. You were angry with him and rightly so, but when you ignored him and went home late more often, he was worried.

It was what drove him to volunteer for the rescue mission. When he saw your name on the hunter list, he felt compelled to make sure you were okay.

. . .

It was strange to see you on duty.

With your hunter uniform and your hair tied up, you were the picture of a very capable hunter. Zayne found himself unexpectedly following your movements as you came and went.

"Dr. Zayne, are you checking your wife out?" the EMT next to him teased with a grin. "Well, when you have a pretty wife such as Y/N, of course..."

He cleared his throat and the EMT giggled as he sauntered away.

So, you were also considered attractive here. Of course you were. Zayne knew it, but he just didn't expect that anyone here would blurt it out so openly.

But that wasn't the most surprising of all—

"Xavier, shush!" you playfully punched the blonde man next to you in the chest, your broad smile lighting up the moment. The two of you whispered closely, and Zayne found himself feeling uncomfortable, like being prickled by several needles.

He has never made you laugh so openly like that. The nagging feeling inside him grew stronger as he watched you—even if it was just in a platonic sense—with another man. It stirred something within him, making him want to pull that blonde aside, give him a word or two, and overthrow him altogether.

Amidst the growing storm inside him, you suddenly turned sideways and caught his eye, and Zayne could've sworn... he felt time stopped at that moment.

It was so candid that it took his breath away. The way your earnest, unclouded eyes met his. How natural you were while loading your gun...

Ah, they were right. His wife was exceptionally pretty.

But before he could fully appreciate it, you broke the eye contact and turned away, pretending as if you hadn’t seen him at all.

Zayne wondered then, why did he feel so hurt all of a sudden?

Battlefields were always a place of chaos, and Zayne was no stranger to it.

He was on standby at the makeshift hospital as patients surged in, continuously aiding first-aid. Some were hunters on duty, and his heart was in his throat the entire time, anxiously hoping you wouldn’t be among them.

"Doc... it still hurts," a little girl sniffled right after Zayne wrapped her injured arm with the gauze. Despite the anxiety, seeing this tearful girl softened his frown.

"It's just going to take a while, hmm?" he patted the kid in the head. "It's going to be better soon enough."

"My mom is still inside..." she said, her eyes welling up with tears. "Doc, will they get her out?"

Zayne hesitated, his thoughts briefly drifting to you. He managed a reassuring smile. "Don’t worry, they’ll—"

Crash! —all of a sudden, a loud explosion shook the hospital, the sound echoing through the chaos. The little girl clung to his coat in fear.

"Call for retreat!" someone suddenly shouted from outside. "Alert all personnel immediately!"

Retreat. The thought that you might be safe soon brought him a sense of relief. He turned to the girl, trying to keep his composure.

"Look, the hunters are retreating, it means most are already evacuated." Zayne managed a reassuring smile. "Stay here. I'll help you find her later, okay?"

He went to the survivors' camp outside, attending to the wounded and keeping a vigilant eye on each returning hunter. Even until 30 minutes later, he still hadn't seen you. Thinking to contact you, he reached out for his phone.

"Who hasn't gotten out?" Jenna, your team leader, demanded the receiver with a stern voice, standing tall several feet away from the camp, and Zayne overheard the snippets of her conversation.

A frantic voice responded, "Xavier is still inside! Y/N too!"

"Those two! They are always—!"

What?

Zayne almost dropped his phone when he heard your name. Terror gripped him instantly, and then suddenly, again, it was his greatest nightmare realized.

You are still inside. You could be hurt. It was possible you had no means to get out of there.

He didn’t register letting go of his coat or crossing the police line—all that mattered was getting to you. He sprinted away, ignoring the shouts of those trying to stop him.

No. Not again!

Debris flew everywhere, and the roars of Wanderers grew louder as he neared the building wreckage. As a splinter was about to hit him, ice shot through his palms, creating a barrier that shattered it.

"Y/N!" he shouted your name, his voice cracking with panic. "Where are you?!"

All he could think about was the memory of you bleeding out in the ER. Zayne never wanted to see that again. Should anything happen to you now...

He didn't want you to be hurt. He hated seeing you cry. For the past weeks, it had torn him apart to see you so unhappy. He wanted to be the one who made you smile, the one you looked at with love.

The realization washed over him like a tidal wave. Yet it wasn’t an epiphany but a simple truth he had always known but never fully grasped until now.

If he lost you now, it'd destroy him.

He continued screaming your name over and over. And then, after turning several turns, he finally saw you, standing alone in the middle of the wreckage—

You turned to him in surprise when you heard your name in his shout, and were rooted to the spot, in disbelief that your husband was right before you.

Zayne felt a wave of relief wash over him, until a hollow croak from above caught his attention. He squinted—

A glass panel had crumbled and was falling directly towards you.

A sense of dread so great overwhelmed him, a lump formed in his throat, and the smoke made it hard to breathe. He sprinted forward, and with everything he had, he pushed you out the way.

The next thing he knew, everything went pitch black.

"Zayne? Zayne!"

A memory flashed in his mind's eye. The one memory he wished he didn't have to relive ever again.

Sitting on the deserted hospital bench, his eyes were vacant. Utter hollowness choked him, leaving him motionless. It was over. There was no blood on his hands, yet it felt as if there were.

Your grip on his shoulder was tight, shaking him. "Zayne, snap out of it!" and only then he brought himself to meet your eyes.

"She died." That was the only thing he could mutter, pain woven in each word. "She really died."

Your eyes widened in horror, an inaudible gasp left your lips. "Oh..."

He didn't really know what happened next, but he remembered the warmth from when you pulled him to your arms, when sobs wracked his body as he thought the world was ending.

Since then, you have always been there.

And subconsciously, he may have regarded you as his lifeline.

. . .

Another memory.

"Are you awake...?"

His mind was hazy, but he recognized your voice. He blearily opened his eyes to find you placing a cool compress on his forehead.

"Who would have thought the great Dr. Zayne can get a fever?" you said with a soft laugh, patting his hair. "Don’t worry about me. Go back to sleep."

You came to see him. He remembered telling you not to. But you still did, and the fact thawed the ice in his heart.

Just as you were about to leave, his hand reached out and pulled you closer. "Don’t go."

"Are you trying to make me catch your cold too?" you teased with a soft laugh.

"Hmph. Who told you to come here...?"

"Ah, so you're whiny when you're not feeling well," you observed with a smile. "Okay, I'll stay! But only if you agree to nurse me if I catch your cold!"

You were noisy, but endearingly so.

. . .

"Don't pay her any mind," you fidgeted on your seat, a frown on your face. "My mom always does that."

There was never any talk about the nature your relationship between the two of you, but it was clear to everyone nevertheless. You were always around him, and he seemed to enjoy your company just as much.

And not for the first time, your mother pushed him towards marriage with you.

"People are always getting the wrong idea," you grumbled. "Sorry, Zayne..." you lowered your head, seemingly in regret.

He was puzzled, because to him, it wasn't necessarily false. All things you did together lead to this.

"What if it isn't a wrong idea at all?"

You looked at him with slight surprise. "Huh...?"

Your presence was a gift. That tragedy was devastating, but having you constantly by his side made it bearable. He was fond of you, and the thought that if it's you, then surely...

In this memory, he was more sure than ever. What he said then, it came from the truest place in his heart.

"What if I told you... as of right now, I can't imagine being with anyone but you?"

The side of his head was throbbing with pain. Everything hurt, the hard asphalt was bruising his face as the headache set in. He could smell the scent of blood and sweat, but more than that—

"Zayne! Ah, hah— Please, please! No!"

Your voice, choked with tears, blared in his ears as you desperately shook him. You sounded so heartbroken, so utterly panicked, and your voice gradually pulled him back to consciousness.

Opening his eyes took tremendous effort. At first, everything was a blur, but then it came into focus—the sight of you disheveled, smeared with soot, with tears streaming down your face. But still you— the woman he had married two years ago.

Yet his heart lurched. You're crying again... why is it that whenever with me, you're always crying?

"Are you... alright?" he rasped, lifting his hand to touch your face.

"Why did you—" You were startled by his question, your gaze fixed on the blood pooling on the side of his face. "Your head is bleeding!"

Ah, so you're fine. The sheer knowledge brought him relief, a faint smile forming at his lips. "I'm glad..."

"I'll help you get back! Hold onto me—" you said after brushing away your tears, lifting him up and draping his arm around your shoulder. "Can you walk?"

"I'm... fine..."

"You're not!" you refuted harshly, voice trembling. "You have to go back!"

You made him lean on you as you made your way back to the makeshift hospital, each step accompanied by your sniffles as you supported his waist.

Zayne glanced at you, feeling a warmth in his chest despite the migraine. "D-Don't cry... I'll be fine."

"You're an idiot!" you choked out, struggling to hold back your tears. "Why did you even come out here?"

"I... have to find you. They said you haven't returned."

"There are still civilians inside! I'll return eventually!"

"I can’t wait for that. I... have to know you're safe."

His response only fueled your frustration. "You don't have to—!"

"You are my wife—" he snapped, turning to you sharply, his eyes flashing with anger. "How can I not worry— for you?"

The forceful tone in his voice went straight to the most tender part of your heart. It really struck you at that moment that he had come out here for you, that his concern for you was that profound.

And that after all these weeks, he still keeps you in his thoughts.

He had pushed you out of the way, even at the cost of himself, barely missing the fallen billboard in that violent crash. If he was in the wrong position, he could've lost his life.

You stared at him, tears glossing your eyes.

"That's enough... Don't cry again." Zayne reached out to wipe your cheeks. His hands, however, were smeared with his own blood, leaving streaks on your face. "Ah... I got blood on you..."

But in that moment, you couldn’t care less. There was this indescribable sting of grief, but also paired with a sense of relief so great in your chest the very second you realize that now, he sees you.

You threw yourself into his arms, hugging him tightly as you sobbed, calling out to him in broken voice. “Z-Zayne...!”

“Why are you crying again...?” he let out a resigned sigh, but still embraced you regardless. “What a crybaby...”

You buried your face deeper into him, shaking uncontrollably. “You... saved me...” you managed to say amidst torrent of tears. “Y-You... got hurt...”

“I’ll be fine,” he retorted in your ear albeit in a hoarse voice, holding you close, even as blood trickled down the side of his face. “And I’d do it again. I refuse to see you hurt.”

You cried harder, and he pulled you tighter, his chest aching at the sight of you so inconsolable. And in that moment, he made the decision right then and there.

He will protect you so long as time will allow him to.

It was as if the invisible wall between you had crumbled to dust after that incident. You stayed by Zayne's side night and day, monitoring his condition.

And one night, several days later...

"Here, don't move..."

You carefully dressed the wound on Zayne's temple, sitting close beside him. He quietly observed your worried eyes and trembling fingers without a word.

"You even need stitches..." you lamented, biting your lip as you wrapped the bandage around his head. Tears pricked your eyes, overwhelmed by the concern you were pouring into the task.

"I'm telling you, I'm fine," he gruffly insisted in an attempt to erase the sadness from your face. He felt the delicate, almost hesitant touch of your fingers on his face. "It'll heal with time."

Even as he said that, a part of you was still troubled at the sight of the wound on his head and cheekbone. No matter what he said, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was somehow your fault.

"I'm done. Now go rest," you said softly, your voice tinged with bitterness after tying the gauze. You rose to put the kit away, but even after you finished, Zayne remained upright on the bed, so you leveled a frown at him.

"What, why aren't you— Ah!"

Before you knew it, he pulled you by the arm, and you tumbled into his chest in surprise. "What are you doing?!" you yelled at him, clinging to his shoulder and looking up at him with ire. "You could've hit your head!"

He looked down at you with a flat expression, or is that a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes? “Can't a husband cuddle his wife?”

You blinked dumbly, caught off-guard. “Yes, you can, but...”

His arms then enveloped you, fitting you on his chest and he sighed against your hair. “Then there’s nothing wrong with it. Let’s just stay like this for now.”

And so, that was how he decided to sleep throughout the night—with you on top of him, held close. You felt self-conscious as Zayne had never initiated this closeness with you since that night.

"Are you sure you want to sleep this way?" you wriggled a bit in his grasp.

He draped an arm around your waist, pressing his eyes shut. "Mm-hm."

"You..." A part of you recoiled at the vulnerability but decided to ask anyway. "Won't this be… a mistake...?"

That caught his attention, as Zayne's eyes fluttered open. He looked down at you, who avoided his gaze with a pout and a torn expression, making yourself small in his embrace.

It dawned on him then that this persisting issue in your marriage was thoroughly his fault. His past was something he could never—and would never—trade for anything, but right now, you were that sense of peace that grounded him.

At one point, he has to let it go. These feelings inside him… they drive him to.

He softened, his gaze full of understanding as he gently brushed your hair back. "No," he said quietly, his voice tender. "We’ve come too far for it to be one."

Your clear, innocent eyes reluctantly met his, and at that moment something akin to clarity resonated within him.

He once thought nothing could ever mend the hollowness in his heart. And once, he indeed hoped that being with you would provide some form of relief or replace what he had lost.

But right now, feeling how vulnerable you were in his arms like this, he understood that you were not, and could never be, a replacement for anything else. Even before he realized it himself, what he felt for you was something entirely different— something dear that had grown and evolved into a genuine affection different from what he had felt for anyone else before.

Those times spent with you, wanting to protect you... Now that he reflected on it, it was never about filling a void, after all.

“I... want to treasure you better.”

Oh. Your heart thumped loudly as those words left his lips, warmth spreading through your entire being. Overwhelmed by the sincerity in his voice, you clung to his chest, feeling a surge of love and a profound sense of being freed from the chains of insecurity that had taken you hostage all these years.

Most precious. Zayne smiled at you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“This time for sure... I will.”

And at last... he could say it without any lingering guilt.

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nateezfics · 6 months

Note

I don’t know if it would reach you but I’ll give it a try

ATEEZ reaction to Make-Up Sex after their S/O distancing themselves after a fight

MAKE UP SEX WITH ATEEZ

PAIRING — ateez x reader

GENRE — smut, romance, angst (the slightest bit), make up, boyfriend!ateez, fem!reader, sub!reader, soft dom!ateez

WARNINGS — mentions of arguments, smut, unprotected sex, make up sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, use of pet names (baby), intentional lower case and small font, intentional word abbreviations

WORD COUNT — 1.2k

SUMMARY — make up sex with ateez after an argument.

HONGJOONG

“c’mon, baby. need to hear you. please.”

his thrusts increased in speed, fucking into you at a rhythm just as messy as his thoughts. your moans poured out of you, your hands clutching at his back until he groaned at the way your nails pierced his skin. he soaked up every last one of your cries, reveled in the way you clung to him like a lifeline. god, he’d missed your voice, missed you. he hated arguing, even more so when he knew he was in the wrong. your silence was the worst part of it all; he wasn’t able to stand it not even a day before he was clambering back to you.

hongjoong’s hips pistoned into you with a purpose to pull every last sound from you until you were falling apart underneath him. you cried into the nape of his neck, your hold on his back never letting up. “hongjoong, hongjoong, hongjoong…”

his name on your tongue was enough to undo him. he held you close to him quickly after, kissing all over your face and showering you with proclamations of love and apologies.

SEONGHWA

“fuck, i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry, baby.”

seonghwa was urgent, desperate to make you fall apart. his thrusts were hurried and they were deep, cockhead kissing against that sweet spot inside you repeatedly. he buried his face in your neck, kissing your warm skin. his hand searched over the sheets for yours until he found it. his fingers locked with yours and he gave you a loving squeeze. it was little actions like this that reminded you of how much he adored you. and you reveled in the little acts of love, thankful to have a boyfriend that cared enough for you to show his love for you after arguments.

“seonghwa,” you breathed between moans. “i love you.”

seonghwa smiled. you forgave him. “i love you, too.”

YUNHO

“i love you. so damn much. gonna make you feel better, baby.”

yunho’s breath was hot against your ear. his lips rested just at your temple as you sat across his lap, your arms around his shoulders while one of his hands touched you between your thighs. two long fingers stuffed your leaky hole, making you mewl into his neck. he felt your hold on him grow tighter, and he smiled. he kissed your temple. he scissored you open, preparing you for his cock later, fucking your pussy with his fingers until he felt your slick begin to drip down his hand.

“l-love you,” you whispered, though it was almost too much to manage as his fingers brought you closer to an orgasm. “i feel s’good, yunho.”

and yunho kept making you feel good, eventually breaking you apart on his cock and fucking you until your argument was long forgotten.

YEOSANG

“please, wanna know how good i’m making you feel. wanna make it up to you.”

yeosang’s hands were placed on either side of your hips, guiding you up and down on his cock. he watched you, witnessing the view of you above him, your head rolled back and mouth agape. you looked divine like this, and all he wanted to do was make you feel this good forever.

your hands found stability on his thighs as you began to lose yourself to the pleasure. “i feel good, yeo. fuck, so good.”

yeosang urged you to an orgasm, cursing under his breath as he watched you fall apart from above. you clamped around him like a vice and his cock throbbed with need to release, but he withheld his own end. he flipped you over until you were flat against the mattress, taking his spot above you. he didn’t waste any time before sliding back into you with a languid thrust.

“give me one more, please. don’t wanna stop until i’m sure i’ve earned your forgiveness.”

SAN

“don’t wanna fight ever again. just wanna be with you like this. god i’m so sorry, baby.”

san hugged you tightly, keeping your frame firm against his. your back was against his chest, his hands fondling your breasts, and his mouth at your ear. his cock drove into you so deep and slow it made your brain short circuit, turning to mush in your skull. he fucked you with practiced precision, it was like he was trying to use his body to tell you how sorry he was. one of his hands left your chest to grip the bend of your knee and pull your leg up to offer him a better angle.

with each thrust, the memory of the argument began to vanish. all you were able to think about was him and the rapidly approaching orgasm. “i forgive you, san, just make me cum. please, please, please!”

“oh baby,” san cooed with a kiss to your ear. “don’t you worry. i’m gonna make you cum. gonna make you fall apart, and then do it all over again. gotta make up for all the lost time, yeah?”

MINGI

“sorry, sorry, sorry. let me kiss it better. please, baby.”

mingi’s large hands gripped at your thighs firmly but tenderly. he had you splayed open before him as he feasted on your essence, pouring every ounce of himself into your pleasure. his pointy nose bumped your clit just as his tongue passed between your folds and your back arched prettily off the mattress. he needed to make you feel good to make up for the fight, to use his tongue to show you how truly sorry he was.

“mingi, ‘m gonna cum…” you sounded so sweet, and fuck, you tasted even sweeter. he pressed his face further into your cunt.

“gonna make you cum as much as you want to, baby.”

WOOYOUNG

“wanna make you cry from pleasure, not from pain. fuck, i’m sorry baby.”

wooyoung’s thumb wiped a fallen tear away, palm warm against your cheek. he gazed down at you just as he pushed himself in again. your lips trembled and brows furrowed; you looked so beautiful when you cried from how good he was making you feel. it was a much better sight than seeing you cry after arguing with him, and much better than hearing your sniffles from the locked bedroom. he caressed your cheek with his thumb while his hips quickened in tempo, cooing at you sweetly as you began to whimper.

“wooyoung, please.” your plea was soft, broken. he soothed you with kisses against your forehead. he kept the same pace, hips gliding back and forth until you were coming undone underneath him.

he was there to console you, to guide you through your high with tender touches and words.

JONGHO

“i love you. please, need to hear you say you still love me, too.”

jongho wasn’t able to keep his hands off you. he caressed your frame, attentive to every dip and curve, as his cock slid in and out of you. you were breathless under him, mouth opening and closing like you were attempting to speak. “please, baby.”

you swallowed a moan. you gripped his wrists at either side of your face, holding onto them like a lifeline as you tried to gather your thoughts. “i lo—” a moan, “love you, jongho. s’much.” and no argument could ever change that.

jongho dipped his head down until his forehead was against yours. his eyes found yours, and he adored the way yours were glazed over from the pleasure. he smiled lovingly, and the sight made your insides flutter. “you’re amazing.” jongho followed up his words with an increase in tempo, fucking you deep until you fell apart under the weight of pleasure and love.

TAG LIST — @abiaswreck @hongthoven @jungkookieprincess @lilie-dctl @mjyungi @marievllr-abg @mylovelymito @nebulousbookshelf @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @staytinyinmybpack @thesafecafe (if you’d like to be on my tag list, find the tag list form link on the pinned post on my blog!)

NETWORKS — @kflixnet @wonderlandnet

ALL FICS ARE THE ORIGINAL IDEAS AND WRITTEN WORKS OF NATEEZFICS. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. REPOSTING WITHOUT CONSENT FROM THE AUTHOR NATEEZFICS IS PROHIBITED!

#wonderlandnet #ateez smut #ateez smut drabbles #ateez x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #ateez fanfiction #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines

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noisilyscreechingsong · 4 months

Text

Alfred knows Danny from long ago during his secret service days. He always found the other odd, but his company was enjoyable enough to overlook. They were friends for a short while. Danny even saved his life once or twice. However, despite their trust in each other, they didn’t keep in touch. It was like Danny disappeared and he never heard from the jolly man again. That is until Danny showed up at the Wayne manor decades later looking the same as when they parted ways carrying the daughter he talked so much about.

Danny stood on the front porch with a toddler Ellie in his arms. She’s been behaving wonderfully. The new environment gave her curious self something to look at and distract her from a tantrum.

He rings the doorbell awkwardly with her in one arm and a bag of supplies resting on his shoulder.

If things were any different he wouldn’t be here, but he’s got to do what he’s got to do even if it’s the last scenario.

Footsteps can be heard on the other side before it opens to reveal a boy in sweatpants and a hoodie. It’s a little warm for the summer and Danny expects they have an expensive electric bill for this large place.

The kid, Damian Wayne he remembers, scowls. He gives Danny a once over with narrowed eyes.

“How’d you get through the gate?” Damian demands.

Danny blinks and adjusts Ellie on his hip.

“I walked of course.” Damian grows even more suspicious and Danny decides to change the subject. “I’m Danny. Danny Fenton. And this little monster is Ellie. Want to say hello, Ells?”

Ellie looks at Damian for all of three seconds before losing interest.

“No.”

Danny sighs. Yea, he was expecting that answer. It’s her favorite word at the moment.

“Why are you here?” Damian asks.

Straight to the point then.

“I’m looking for Alfred Pennyworth. Is he around? It’s urgent.”

“What is it concerning?” Damian straightens his spine to appear taller but it doesn’t change the head difference.

Danny sets Ellie down on the brick when she won’t stop squirming to be let down. She doesn’t waste a moment wandering away to investigate her surroundings. Damian raises a brow while watching her.

“I’m cashing in that favor he owns me.”

That got the boy’s attention. He studies the adult for a moment before opening the door wider for the both of them to enter.

Danny manages to wrangle Ellie into the house with Damian’s judgmental gaze following them. The bag had slid down to his elbow when he bends down to hold Ellie’s hand to steady her.

It’s as Damian is closing the front door that a man comes around the corner in a butler uniform. The same man he was looking for.

Alfred freezes after registering who was in front of him. The older of the two sighs heavily. Shoulders back and chin high, as expected he approaches this situation with a level head and posh dignity.

“Daniel,” addresses Alfred. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Danny cringes. He really should have called with a warning but there wasn’t time. He also always hated it when Alfred refused to use Danny’s preferred nickname, a sort of teasing that was consistent. If Alfred was anything, he’s stubborn enough to do what he wants and get away with it.

“Sorry, Alf. Next time for sure.” Danny sends a cheeky grin that doesn’t impress anyone. He glances over at his daughter to see her trying to touch the expensive looking vase on a side table.

“Ellie!” He dashes over to pull her away which immediately starts a struggle war and fussing. He knows if he lets this continue it will turn into a full blown tantrum.

“That’s not ours, we can’t touch it without permission.” She whines in frustration. “Do you want to ask if it’s okay to touch? Gently?”

Ellie thinks about it a second before looking up at him. Danny nods in understanding and turns her a bit to look at the two spectators.

“Toush?” She asks with an adorable chubby arm raised to point at the vase.

“Are you going to break it?” Damian asks with folded arms.

“Master Damian, I’m sure that’s not her intention.” Alfred turns with a smile back to Ellie. “That vase is fragile. Can you be very careful?”

Obviously her answer is a confident nod of the head and immediately trying to reach out again. Danny helps to lift her and hold her wrist steady.

She pets the vase like a kitten, feeling the raised edges of the design with her little hand. After a few long moments Danny pulls her away to set her on his hip like before, earning an annoyed huff in his direction for his efforts.

“Very good, Ellie. I knew you could do it.”

She hides her face in his shoulder and he takes the opportunity to send a look at Alfred. The older man understands immediately and inclines his head before turning to walk further into the house.

“It was nice meeting you,” Danny shoots Damian before following Alfred to what appears to be a parlor a few rooms away.

“I shall fetch some tea.”

Danny shakes his head as he sits.

“No time. I’m in a rush.”

Alfred eyes him up and down before gingerly sitting in the armchair across from him.

“Yes, so I have noticed.”

In other words, spill your guts for abruptly intruding like you have.

“Something…urgent has come up-“

“I assumed as much.”

“-and I know how good you are with kids-“

“Daniel, you cannot expect me to-“

“You owe me,” Danny says firmly. Alfred leans back at the reminder. He knows Danny would never hold that over his head without a good reason. “I have no one else to go to, to look after her. I normally would just take her with me, but I- it’s gotten dangerous. Too dangerous for her.”

He looks to Alfred with desperate eyes. Ellie tries to squirm out of his arms, which reflexively tighten securely around her middle. He can see the dark bags under the younger eyes.

Alfred sighs.

“How long?”

Danny sags and Ellie slips out of her father’s arms as soon as the chance presented itself. Alfred would need to keep a close eye on her in the future.

“A week, two, three tops.”

Alfred sends an unimpressed look and Danny cringes but doesn’t redact his statement.

“Anything I need to know?”

Danny looks down at the hastily packed diaper bag like it had all the answers.

“We’re kind of in the middle of potty training so I threw in some pull ups but those will go quick. She hates carrots. Won’t go to sleep without a bedtime story. Don’t give her any sugar after four or she’ll turn into a monster. Oh, and her powers are coming in so I packed a shield for at night.”

Alfred raises a single eyebrow.

“Could you be more specific?”

Danny waves it off like it was no big deal.

“Just the normal stuff. Invisibility, intangibility, and flight. It’s all very weak and sporadic right now. Keep calm until she figures it out on her own. She’s just learning.”

“So you are leaving a child in my care for an unknown amount of time, a child that can disappear, walk through walls, and fly. Anything else?”

Danny rubs the back of his neck guiltily.

“Why do you always have to make everything sound so…” He sighs heavily, glancing over at Ellie who has managed to take every blanket out of the basket in the corner and crawled in to make a nest out of the materials. He smiles fondly.

“I’ve probably forgotten something, but I know you can handle it. You can take care of her.”

Danny then stands and pulls out a piece of paper, handing it over.

“My number is at the top in case of emergencies. Her favorite stuffy is in the bag, she won’t sleep without it. Her favorite word right now is ‘no’. I wrote down anything I could think of, which you probably can’t even read my chicken scratch…”

Alfred gently takes the paper from his hand and Danny slowly makes his way to the messy corner.

“Hey, Elles,” he says softly, far softer than anything Alfred has heard from him. Usually he was a rambunctious, jovial loudmouth, but right now he was hesitant. Prolonging the farewell they both know needs to happen with how urgent this mysterious problem was.

Ellie looks up for a moment before going back to maneuvering her fort.

“I gotta go away for a while. Alfred here will be watching over you while I’m gone, okay?”

That got her attention. For a child that young, she knew something was wrong, but didn’t know what. And now her dad, her protector, was leaving.

“No.”

Danny folds his lips together, expecting the response but still not ready to go through the hard part of leaving.

“I’m so sorry, baby girl. I am, but I have to go. I’ll be back when I’m finished.”

“No!”

Danny sighs and reaches in to pull her into his arms. She fights him valiantly, but he was stronger and bigger.

“I know. I know. I’m sorry. I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise.”

They might as well have been empty words for the lack of effect it had on the struggling toddler. Danny sways with her for a few beats until he gets an idea.

“Danielle, look.”

He makes sure she’s watching as he creates a loop of ice, infused with his ectoplasm and therefore, his signature.

“Hold out your hand,” he coax.

She does so with a sniffle and he gently moves the glowing green ghost ice around her wrist to make an indestructible, unmeltable bracelet. He shrinks it until he’s sure it won’t fall off and won’t be too tight either.

“There. Now you have a piece of me wherever you go. Even when we’re far apart.”

She pointedly doesn’t look at him.

“I love you, Ellie. I’ll be back soon.”

He kisses her forehead, breathes in her soft scent, and turns to Alfred. The older man is watching carefully and makes his arms available for a new passenger.

With a deep breath Danny hands her over, Ellie immediately starts whining and tears fall from her eyes.

“Hey, you’ll be okay. Alfred here is a mighty warrior. He’ll keep you safe. I trust him.”

He does his best to wipe away her tears but he has to physically step away when she reaches for him. Instead he looks to Alfred.

Alfred holds her securely and nods in assurance.

“Not to worry. Danielle and I will be too busy to notice your absence.”

Danny smiles at the effort but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He can’t resist petting her head one last time, her pigtails in disarray, and wiping her tears from her cheeks.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he promises, marking it with another kiss to her head before backing away again. He looks at Alfred sending his gratitude without words. Alfred accepts it with a slight incline of the head. Danny nods once and leaves before he can’t.

The door opens and the young boy from earlier stumbles back with a glare to hide his embarrassment.

“Master Damian-“

Danny holds up a hand to stop Alfred. Of course the boy would eavesdrop, what did either of them expect?

The young father leans down to get eye level with Damian, looking him straight in the eye with seriousness. Damian straightens at the attention.

“It’s very important Ellie is safe and occupied while I’m away. It would mean a lot to me if you would help Alfred do that.”

Damian folds his arms.

“What would I get out of that useless goal?”

“What would you want?”

“Daniel, Master Bruce would not-“

“A knife,” Damian interrupts. “Not just any knife though. It has to be special.”

Danny hums in thought, studying Damian for a moment, almost making the boy squirm.

“Deal.”

He holds out his hand and Damian shakes it after a second of hesitation. Danny nods to the boy, then nods to Alfred, and he’s finally out the door making a portal as he walks from the gentle breeze of outside to the chill of ectoplasm, transforming into his kingly attire as he crosses the threshold.

The GIW had a lot to answer for and he couldn’t hold his subjects back any longer. The United States had declared war against the Infinite Realms and he would be the one to answer.

#dp x dc #danny phantom #danny fenton #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #alfred pennyworth #damian wayne #secret service #long time no see #babysitting #time travel #clockwork shenanigans #de aged ellie #Danny is Ellie’s dad #Alfred’s got this #dc x dp prompt #ghost king danny

2K notes · View notes

cravetive · 8 months

Text

𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗗

✩｡ Pairings: Neighbor!Jungkook x Fem!reader

✩｡ Synopsis: Y/n didn't think testing out a new sex toy would cause so much havoc but no worries, her next-door neighbor Jungkook doesn't mind lending her a bit of assistance.

✩｡Warnings: Smut! cussing, mentions of masturbation, spanking, doggy style, sex in a public place, unprotected sex (sigh), teasing, creampie, rough sex, pinning, sex toys, sweat and other bodily fluids, a bit of exhibitionism i guess (elevators have cameras), sexual frustration, consensual sex, if you're reading this for the plot don't, there is no plot.

✩｡ Authors Note: lord give me one chance, one chance is all i need.

✩｡ Word Count: 5.k

“Are you using it right now?”

“Yes, it’s a bit uncomfortable, to be honest.”

“Omg! Are you in public?!”

“I just made a quick run to the convenience store for a few snacks.”

“Oh, you’re brave” Mina, Y/n’s friend spoke through the phone that was pressed between her ear and shoulder. Y/n sighed, grabbing a bottle of water and making her way to the front of the store. “it’s in low mode anyways, it just feels like I’m riding the bus on an unpaved street” Y/n laughed whilst placing her items onto the counter for the cashier to scan.

“I've never had anyone try it out in public, this is exciting!” Y/n rolled her eyes and scanned her card, grabbing her receipt and bag before stepping out of the convenience store and into the scorching sun of July.

“Relax I’ll be home in like 3 seconds” Y/n huffed, wiping some of the sweat beaming on her forehead. Having been locked in her air-conditioned apartment for the last 2 days had caused her to forget the heat wave that had taken over the city in the last week and it didn’t matter that she was wearing her shortest summer dress because she felt like she was boiling alive.

“Okay, just remember you can change the motions and speed on the app, but I would recommend you start off slow so that you can adjust” Mina spoke urgently on the phone, but Y/n could only focus on her apartment building as it came into view, her flip flops dragging against the pavement as she took hurried steps. “Yes, yes just know that you owe me big time!” Y/n yelled into the phone.

Y/n wasn’t experimental in any aspect of her life, she liked what she liked, and she knew what she didn’t. Her life was simple, boring as Mina would describe it, but she preferred it that way, it had worked out for her, and she didn’t see the need to stray from it. which had only made her that much more apprehensive when Mina came to her with the proposition of testing out one of the new sex toys her company was developing.

Y/n didn’t like the idea at all, and she had even readied herself to decline but upon noticing the desperation in Mina’s eyes that late afternoon she just couldn’t bring herself to say no. Y/n first-handedly witnessed how hard Mina had worked on this project and she couldn’t be the reason behind its failure which had led her to reluctantly accept. It had only taken 4 days for the package to be delivered to her front door, the small box containing the pink bullet vibrator Mina had designed which was now nestled between her legs.

“I will kiss the ground you walk on after this!” Mina promised on the other end of the call which caused Y/n to laugh as she stepped into her building. her feet shuffled as she leaned forward to tap on the elevator button and She subconsciously pressed her legs together as she stood waiting for the doors to open, the low vibrations from the toy leaving her a bit out of breath.

“Alright, I’ll call you back later on” Y/n huffed which caused Mina to giggle on the other end.

“Hot and bothered already?” Mina joked which caused Y/n’s already flushed cheeks to deepen in color.

“Shut up, it’s the heat” Y/n yelled as she watched the elevator doors open.

“sureeeee” Mina teased which led Y/n to end the call without further explanation.

She stepped into the small space and pressed the button to her floor before standing all the way back into the corner, her back pressed into the mirrored wall behind her. Y/n bit her bottom lip as she watched the elevator doors close slowly. she didn’t understand the buzz behind these sex toys or this market, the bullet wasn’t even doing anything to stimulate her and if she was honest, the vibration alone was starting to irritate her.

Y/n was sure her hand could do a better job.

“Hold it!” a voice shouted which caused Y/n to snap out of her frustrated trance, she reached forward and stopped the doors from shutting. The voice’s owner rushed inside, and Y/n took in his flustered appearance as he turned back to thank her. She recognized him as the man who lived 2 doors away from her and was notoriously known for his loud parties and for the woman who came and went from his apartment. It had been more than a few times she had found herself knocking on his door at 3 am due to the loud music.

And if it wasn’t for the fact that the guy was easy on the eyes she probably would’ve already complained to management.

His name is Chun-woo? Jungkook? Something like that she thought.

Y/n offered him a small and awkward smile before pressing herself against the wall once again. She rarely ever interacted with any of the residents in the building and today would not be the exception. She was already hot and sweaty and all she wanted to do was to get to her cool air-conditioned apartment and binge on her delicious snacks.

“It’s really hot outside” the man commented, tapping on the button that Y/n had already pressed earlier. She dragged her eyes over to his back and hummed, nodding her head in agreement.

“you’re from apartment 902 right?” He glanced back at her, and she noticed the piercing that wrapped around the end of his bottom lip, she had never stood as close to him to notice it before and for some reason it only made him appear that much more handsome.

“Yeah” she smiled, squirming in the small space in which she stood.

Within the silence that soon overtook the small elevator, she could hear the way the man struggled to catch his breath, having fallen victim to the heat wave outside. His long black hair had stuck to the dampened skin of his forehead and his broad shoulders rose and fell as the elevator began to ascend.

Y/n tried to focus her eyes on the floor beneath her and not on the man who stood there with his back now turned to her but ever so often she would find herself staring at the white loose fitted t-shirt he wore, drenched with his sweat. She also tried to stop herself from biting down on her bottom lip while she noticed the muscles that pressed from the thin material around his shoulders while subconsciously rubbing her legs together.

It was rude to stare, she knew that, but the elevator was so crammed there were only so many alternative places she could look, and he was so tall, so broad and his tattooed arm called for her attention, the intricate colors and patterns leaving her in a trance…she blinked quickly, her cheeks turning crimson from the thoughts flooding through her mind.

She opted to stare at the ceiling instead, noticing the way the bright lights would flicker subtly as the elevator continued to climb levels, and then suddenly there came a pulsation from between her legs, one that was probably already there but she hadn’t been able to notice before. Her eyes widened in horror as her mind registered the cause and her hand reached for her phone in urgency as the small vibrations from the small toy caused a faint sound inside the compact space.

“Do you hear that?” Jungkook spoke, turning to look at a very disheveled Y/n, she looked back to him in pure embarrassment, her fingers frantically searching for the app her best friend had downloaded onto her phone.

“Mhm? Ah No, I think it’s the elevator” she giggled nervously and Jungkook nodded, biting down on his lip and turning to face the elevator doors once again.

Y/n had forgotten all about the small object that lowly vibrated inside of her, which was now causing her clit to pulsate painfully under her black thong. Her hands shook as she pressed on the pink icon shining through her screen, and her eyes scanned the app quickly trying to find the off button on the small evil little thing stuck inside her pussy.

“fuck” she breathed as sweat beads began to form on her skin.

The panic running through her body didn’t allow her to focus on the small words in front of her, no matter how hard she squinted. Her fingers continued to urgently press against random buttons, trying to shut off the damn thing but all she had accomplished was for it to change motions, going from a light vibration to full-on pumping. She covered her mouth in shock at the new movement and gripped the handrailing on her side for support.

“how the fuck- “she groaned.

“What was that?” Jungkook asked, looking at her through the reflection on the doors and for a moment she loathed how attentive this man was.

Y/n could only shake her head, her hand trembling against her phone while she tried to overpower the sensation taking over her body.

She had underestimated the damn thing, thinking all would be good if she kept it at a low tempo, who even goes to the store with a sex toy in their pussy? She cursed herself for the irrational idea.

She stared at the screen in concentration, soon finding the pulse button and beginning to tap on it frantically but the thing wouldn’t budge and soon she felt the speed increase. Her mouth widened in horror; her eyes fluttered closed as the vibrations rocked through her body in waves and soon her breaths became extremely uneven. She hoped and prayed her neighbor wouldn’t notice but Jungkook watched from the distorted reflection in front of him at how much she struggled to stay still.

She was sure the universe hated her, she must have been paying for some karmic event she had forgotten about because there was no way in hell this was happening to her.

Suddenly almost as if in coordination, the elevator began to tremble underneath her feet and then her eyes opened wide, was this a figment of her imagination? Was this a silly joke being played on her by the gods? Was this punishment for experimenting with her sex life?

The elevator shook uncontrollably causing Y/n to lose grip of the railing, she fell onto the floor with a loud thud, her bag of snacks ripping open and spilling its contents on the floor. The lights above her flickered on and off and then everything stopped.

Her heart, the rocking of the floor, her brain, and even the elevator came to an abrupt halt but not the vibrations between her legs, it was the only thing that remained as her body squirmed on the floor from the pulsations erupting from her clit.

“What the fuck” Jungkook muttered as he held onto one of the railings, his arms strained with veins running under the skin as he was too shaken by the sudden tremble.

“Did we just have an earthquake?” he exclaimed while his eyes trailed to the spot where Y/n once stood but she was no longer there and then his eyes trailed down, where he found Y/n thrown across the floor along with her snacks. Jungkook let go of the railing and reached for her limp body in an attempt to help her.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, taking a step towards her but Y/n squirmed, backing into the wall behind her.

“Hey, relax” he spoke, his voice but a whisper as he grabbed onto her arm and lifted her off from the floor. She whimpered as he brought her back onto her feet, her hands holding onto his forearms for support.

“I think we’re stuck” he concluded, unable to feel the motion of the elevator beneath his feet. Y/n didn’t say a word, afraid that her attempts at speaking would demonstrate the utter pleasure she was in, and she was mortified. Jungkook noticed the way she slightly trembled underneath his touch, her eyes looking up at his in fear and then an urgency to calm her came over him.

“don’t worry, we can just call someone to help us” he removed his eyes from the agitated woman and scanned the panel at the side of the door, reaching to tap on the red button at the very end. Y/n could only focus on 2 things, the wetness that soon pooled through the thin fabric of her panties and the feeling of his hand on her arm.

His hands were big and soft, and she could feel the small callouses on his palm pressing against her skin. She had to get out of this situation and quickly, she could feel the pressure building in her gut and it was familiar to the one she always got when pleasuring herself during late nights.

She was going to come.

She should’ve been focused on the elevator, on trying to get out of the cramped space, and not on coming undone in front of her neighbor from 2 doors down while he held her. She pushed aside her current desires and removed her eyes from Jungkook's hand on her arm. She carefully scanned the floor for her cell phone and once in her view, she bent down to collect it, her hand fumbling with the device as she picked it up from the floor.

When she turned it over, her heart plummeted. The screen had cracked completely, a few pieces of glass missing, and the screen blinked in different colors in front of her. at that very moment, she wished the elevator would plummet down to her death, she gasped for air as the realization hit her that the only other option she had was to remove the little bullet herself, but she couldn’t, she wouldn’t.

What would her neighbor think? She would have to move from the building entirely to escape from the humiliation alone. What would she even say? oh, hey yeah hold on a minute let me remove my SEX TOY from my vagina…she was mortified.

Her attention was drawn back to the elevator in which she stood as a voice appeared from within the small speaker inside the panel and her heart skipped a beat at the sudden relief that someone would come to help her leave this hellish predicament.

“Sun tower, how can we help you?”

“Uh yea, listen we’re stuck in the elevator” Jungkook spoke his hand reaching to wipe away some of the sweat forming on his face.

“Oh yes sir, sorry about that the building has lost power due to the heat but no worries we are working on the issue, and the elevator should be up and running in no time” Y/n groaned in frustration, deciding it would be best to move away from Jungkook’s touch entirely and found her place back to the corner of the elevator.

“How long do you think it’ll take?” Jungkook sighed, growing frustrated with the entire situation.

“Mhmm, it should take about an hour” the person informed. Y/n jolted in surprise, An hour!? Y/n wouldn’t be able to hold off for an hour. Her legs were trembling, and her heart was beating abnormally fast against her chest. She knew her body and she had a good 5 minutes at best. She ran to the speaker, attempting to focus on controlling her body as she screamed into it in desperation.

“No sir” she moaned, her teeth coming down to bite down harshly on her lips as she attempted to contain herself “You don’t understand I need to get out of here!” her hands held onto the elevator panel for dear life, and she was almost at the verge of tears. “Sorry ma’am we are doing everything we can” Her breaths were uneven as she retracted from the wall, her hands falling by her sides in defeat.

Jungkook noticed the way she struggled to breathe, her chest heaving as she attempted to bring oxygen to her lungs and his eyes squinted in suspicion.

“Hey, are you okay” he asked again, taking a few steps towards her but Y/n raised her hands, her stare darkened and blurred. “Please just stay on that side” she panted, her legs pressing together once again as she battled with another moan that sat on her tongue.

“Are you claustrophobic?” Jungkook asked and oh how Y/n wished that was the reason her body convulsed in the way it did now, her extremities shaking at the feeling of the sex toy vibrating inside of her.

“I-i” she whimpered, attempting to form words but her brain was too consumed by the pumping between her legs, her hands reaching to force her hips from buckling at the feeling. She promised herself she would never speak to Mina again, this was all her fault, she didn’t even want to do this and now she was masturbating in front of this complete stranger. She leaned over and her mouth fell wide open, a loud yelp falling from within.

“woah” Jungkook rushed to her side, his hands reaching to give her support but that only caused her to shiver, the stimulation of both the toy and the man holding her throwing her into complete disarray.

“What is that buzzing sound?” Jungkook asked again, his eyes falling on the floor in an attempt to find the source, but he was met with bags of chips and bottles of water. He focused his hearing on the sound, it was faint, but it was there, and it was driving him crazy. He followed the sound and once his eyes reached the exposed skin of Y/n legs, he looked up into her eyes in surprise.

She looked back at him in embarrassment, her face reddened in shame as sweat trickled down her forehead. She didn’t have the energy to pretend anymore or to try to explain how she wasn’t a sex addict of some sort, she could no longer control what was happening, deciding that she was no match against the orgasm that would soon rock through her.

“Are you? - “his eyes looked into hers and a moan escaped her lips in response. His body tensed at the realization, but he couldn’t take his eyes off hers, entranced by the way she trembled underneath his hands. “Is that?” he gulped looking back down to her shaking legs.

“ah fuck” Y/n moaned, burying her face into his chest, the action causing Jungkook’s heart to leap out of its position. he should’ve been focusing on the predicament they were in, how it would take an hour for the apartment to get them out of there, how hot it had gotten in the cramped space, but he could only think about the girl who was coming undone in his arms, soft pants and moans erupting from her lips into his chest.

“My phone” she whimpered “Ah my phone is broken” She gripped his arms trying to regain control of her body but it was no use, she had been pushed past her limit and she could feel her arousal drip from between her legs.

Jungkook couldn’t ignore the way her whimpers caused goosebumps on his skin, the way her soft moans called upon his member to rise and press against the fabric of his underwear. It was wrong and he knew it, she was vulnerable and unraveling in front of him, but he couldn’t fight it, he was salivating at the thought of what her pussy would look like underneath the skirt of her dress, he imagined it glistening with her juices as the toy moved inside of her and his dick quivered underneath the constraints of his clothes.

“Can I-? “He whispered his half-lidded eyes glancing into hers with lust and desperation.

“Can I help you?” Jungkook gulped, his body tensing at the question. He wouldn’t be surprised if she pushed him back and screamed at him, in under different circumstances he probably wouldn’t have been so upfront, but they had an hour to kill and it almost pained him to see her like this, the toy not being able to assist her in the way he knew he could.

It took a moment too long for Y/n to realize what he was asking, it was not like she was even in the right state of mind to think over anything at that moment yet, she nodded her head miserably, her eyes shutting as another wave of pleasure ran through her body whilst she permitted him to assist her.

“Shhh don’t worry, I’ll take care of you” Jungkook whispered into her ear which lured a moan out of her lips.

He moved in front of her, and his eager mouth found hers, their lips melting as they slid against each other, Jungkook felt the warmth of her skin as she pressed her body into his and his hands snaked along the fabric of her short dress. She was so complaint, so willing and it was driving him over the edge. He responded by pressing his body against hers and she soon felt Jungkook’s prominent boner against her lower belly.

She wondered how long he had been that hard, how long was he pondering if he could fuck her…Y/n wasn’t like this, she didn’t think about these things, and she also wasn’t often so eager to fuck a stranger in the elevator. She couldn’t control herself; she needed relief, and she needed it fast.

“mm gonna take it out” Jungkook dragged his lips away from hers with a hum and trailed his fingers down to the hem of her dress. Y/n whimpered as he teased her, his fingers hovering over the skin of her thighs which were tightly pressed together in an attempt to stop her wetness from dripping down her legs.

“Is that okay?” Jungkook whispered, staring back into her eyes with hunger and she was sure that look alone was going to have her spazzing in a short moment.

He guided his hand past her thighs, his fingers brushing by the hem of her panties and hooking his fingers along them, Y/n threw her head back in pleasure at the intrusion, her legs shaking beneath her as he played with the lace material that was between his digits.

“p-please” she begged, her body trembling from the mere anticipation.

Jungkook smirked at the sight before him, he loved the control he had, loved the fact that she needed him. he unhooked his fingers and dipped his hand inside her panties, turning it over so that his palm was now facing her sensitive clit and applied just enough pressure to make her squirm.

“Fuck, you’re wet” Jungkook hissed, his lips finding shelter on the exposed skin of her neck.

“p-please” Y/n whimpered, unable to repress the longing from between her legs.

Jungkook dipped his hand down further, finding the toy embedded between her warm walls, and groaned at the feeling of her juices coating his fingers as he slowly extracted the toy from its rightful home. The pink little object vibrated against his hand, and he chuckled lowly at the feeling, Y/n sighed in relief, perhaps thinking that was the end of her torment.

Her pussy pulsated sorely, her mind clouded by the impending climax that pressed down on her gut and she needed it, she needed it badly. She pulled Jungkook closer and crashed her mouth into his with eagerness. She would often hear the screams of pleasure that poured out of Jungkook’s apartment when she walked past his door and right now, she needed him to help her in the same way.

Y/n reached for the strings of his sweatpants and quickly undid the knot there, pulling them down from his waist and then dipping her hand into his underwear where she found his rock-hard cock, painfully quivering against the material. Jungkook groaned into her mouth, his body lurching forward at the sensation of her warm hand stroking him under his Calvin Kleins.

“fuck” he muttered as he pulled away from her kiss, his eyes fluttering close.

“I want to fuck you so bad” he groaned, his hands reaching to caress her breasts through the fabric of her dress.

“Then fuck me” Y/n moaned, and it didn’t take more than a second for Jungkook to turn her around and press her against the mirror of the elevator, his hands moving quickly to pull down her black thong and throwing it across the floor. He parted her legs and Y/n watched from the reflection as he licked his lips in admiration.

She didn’t know what she had gotten herself into and she sure as hell wasn’t prepared but she didn’t care, she needed his cock inside of her walls and that’s all she could think about.

Jungkook pushed down his underwear, exposing his cock as he gave it a few more pumps before aligning himself to her welcoming pussy. He watched her arousal drip from her core, and he whimpered at the sight. it was all that he had expected and more, he slowly dragged the tip of his cock against her wet folds which caused Y/n to yelp, her hands reaching to grip the handrails for support.

They moaned in unison as he entered her walls, her legs bucking as he began to move himself inside of her. Jungkook moved slowly, patiently waiting for her to adjust to his length but the feeling of her walls gripping him tightly like his dick was meant to be there was urging him to lose control and it didn’t help that he had a full view of her ass while his dick retracted from her pussy ever so slightly.

“f-fuck me harder” she moaned, and Y/n was sure she had never used those words before, but it was all the instructions Jungkook needed to pick up his pace. He began to thrust roughly inside of her, his hands coming down to hold her hips in place, keeping her from moving away as he pounded into her. Y/n leaned her head against the mirror, her mouth wide open as whimpers and moans fell from it.

The small elevator was soon filled with the symphony of moans and skin clashing together, Y/n could feel a burning sensation building as Jungkook kept his tempo, his black locks hanging over his face as he continued to ram into her. his hand came down quickly against her ass cheek, leaving a red imprint there and Y/n screamed in excitement.

“look how good you’re taking it” Jungkook moaned as he watched his wet cock retract and enter into her pussy over and over again. he reached underneath where their bodies remained interlinked and pressed the vibrating bullet that was still in his hand against her clit. Y/n yelped; her eyes fluttering shut at the sudden action.

“Come on, be a good girl, you know you can take it” he hummed his eyes taking in the way he was completely destroying her. He removed his other hand from her hip and reached to grab her arms, pulling them behind her back and pinning them tightly together on her lower back. Y/n shrieked in pleasure, sweat dripping down the sides of her face.

Jungkook moved his hips skillfully as he fucked into her, his eyes remaining on the view of her ass trembling as his cock glistened with her juices. It was beautiful and it only made his cock pulse with anticipation. He bit down on his lip as groans poured from his chest. never in a million years did he ever think he would be fucking his neighbor but never in a million years did he ever want to stop.

Y/n felt her clit vibrate against the toy, the nerves there buzzing with enjoyment. Her arousal dripped from between her legs onto the silicone material and down Jungkook’s hand, but he kept it pressed there while he hammered into her. She didn’t know if she liked it rough but whatever it was, he was doing, she wanted him to keep going.

“Come for me baby” he moaned, licking his lips as if he was tasting her juices in his mouth. “I know how badly you want to come” his hand came down harshly against her ass cheek again and Y/n responded with a yelp. Y/n was bent over, her tits flowing past her dress and her hair a mess, but she could only focus on the feeling of Jungkook’s balls slapping against her clit, the bullet that worked hard to keep up with Jungkook’s thrusts, and the way this man was fucking her into oblivion.

It felt good, fuck that, it felt amazing.

Jungkook plunged into her pussy with such need, with such desire that she was sure he was close to his climax as well. Y/n’s walls clenched around his cock, urging him to come undone inside of her and Jungkook groaned loudly, his hips beginning to move with a mind of their own as he searched for his own relief.

“Ah'm gonna come” Y/n yelled, her legs giving out from under her as they began to tremble, but Jungkook held her, and gave her the support she needed. He pressed her against the mirror and continued his pace, his eyes trailing to the reflection in front of them.

“Look at us baby, look how good you look while I fuck into you” he whispered into Y/n’s ear, his eyes falling on her hooded eyes and reddened cheeks. Her walls were tight and warm, and he knew he wouldn’t last long, his hand fell on her hip once more, gripping it there while he continued to drive into her quickly. Y/n couldn’t take her eyes from his strained arms, the way his veins stuck out from underneath the skin as he gave her his all, it was almost poetic and that’s all it took for her to reach the peak, her body shuddering against the wall and Jungkook’s chest. Y/n couldn’t hear anything, her eyes falling tightly shut as her orgasm rippled through her body. Her senses were completely gone as she tried to control herself and then there was a sudden warmness dripping from her core, it dripped down her legs and onto the floor.

“Fuck, you squirted baby” Jungkook groaned, his hips buckled and with one last hard thrust, he came into her quenched walls. He let out a trail of curse words Y/n couldn’t make out, too stuck on the way she had unraveled.

She had never felt something so euphoric, and she felt guilty about it.

Jungkook removed the toy that had remained pressed against her clit and threw it on the floor beside them. the bullet buzzed and jolted on the floor before turning off. Y/n blinked her eyes open and stared at the floor in shock, the little fucking thing had finally given out after tormenting her for so long, but she was too high off her orgasm, unable to find any other emotion but relief.

She turned over and looked up at Jungkook, his face was flushed just like hers and sweat dripped from his forehead as he adjusted his dick back in his sweats, a small smirk appearing on his face once he glanced back at her. He reached down to grab her thong and assisted her with slipping it back up her legs, his stare remaining on her. He took in how her chest rose and fell with each harsh breath she took. His fingers glided upward against the sides of her legs as he brought her panties back, his hands landing on the sides of her hips before grabbing the hem of her dress and sliding the fabric down to its rightful place.

Y/n was beyond embarrassed and sore, she didn’t know what to say to the man who had just fucked her literally senseless. Thank You? no that was fucking ridiculous. She reached for her bottle of water and extended her arm out to Jungkook, offering him some refreshment, it was the best she could do given the circumstances.

“Here, drink some” she smiled while Jungkook reached for the bottle, removing the cap and bringing it to his lips, taking a large gulp.

“don’t use those stupid toys anymore, next time just knock on my door” Jungkook muttered, passing her the bottle. Y/n nodded biting down on her lip before taking a drink herself.

“Hello! Is everyone okay? we are coming in to get you out” a voice yelled from outside the elevator doors. They both giggled at each other before innocently standing side by side waiting to be freed from the confined space.

#jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x oc #bts jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fanfiction #kpop smut #jeon jungkook x reader #bts ffs #bts au #jungkook au #jungkook headcanons

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trans-axolotl · 21 days

Text

also in regards to that last article about varied ways of thinking about psychosis/altered states that don't just align with medical model or carceral psychiatry---I always love sharing about Bethel House and their practices of peer support for schizophrenia that are founded on something called tojisha kenkyu, but I don't see it mentioned as often as things like HVN and Soteria House.

ID: [A colorful digital drawing of a group of people having a meeting inside a house while it snows outside.]

"What really set the stage for tōjisha-kenkyū were two social movements started by those with disabilities. In the 1950s, a new disability movement was burgeoning in Japan, but it wasn’t until the 1970s that those with physical disabilities, such as cerebral palsy, began to advocate for themselves more actively as tōjisha. For those in this movement, their disability is visible. They know where their discomfort comes from, why they are discriminated against, and in what ways they need society to change. Their movement had a clear sense of purpose: make society accommodate the needs of people with disabilities. Around the same time, during the 1970s, a second movement was started by those with mental health issues, such as addiction (particularly alcohol misuse) and schizophrenia. Their disabilities are not always visible. People in this second movement may not have always known they had a disability and, even after they identify their problems, they may remain uncertain about the nature of their disability. Unlike those with physical and visible disabilities, this second group of tōjisha were not always sure how to advocate for themselves as members of society. They didn’t know what they wanted and needed from society. This knowing required new kinds of self-knowledge.

As the story goes, tōjisha-kenkyū emerged in the Japanese fishing town of Urakawa in southern Hokkaido in the early 2000s. It began in the 1980s when locals who had been diagnosed with psychiatric disorders created a peer-support group in a run-down church, which was renamed ‘Bethel House’. The establishment of Bethel House (or just Bethel) was also aided by the maverick psychiatrist Toshiaki Kawamura and an innovative social worker named Ikuyoshi Mukaiyachi. From the start, Bethel embodied the experimental spirit that followed the ‘antipsychiatry’ movement in Japan, which proposed ideas for how psychiatry might be done differently, without relying only on diagnostic manuals and experts. But finding new methods was incredibly difficult and, in the early days of Bethel, both staff and members often struggled with a recurring problem: how is it possible to get beyond traditional psychiatric treatments when someone is still being tormented by their disabling symptoms? Tōjisha-kenkyū was born directly out of a desperate search for answers.

In the early 2000s, one of Bethel’s members with schizophrenia was struggling to understand who he was and why he acted the way he did. This struggle had become urgent after he had set his own home on fire in a fit of anger. In the aftermath, he was overwhelmed and desperate. At his wits’ end about how to help, Mukaiyachi asked him if perhaps he wanted to kenkyū (to ‘study’ or ‘research’) himself so he could understand his problems and find a better way to cope with his illness. Apparently, the term ‘kenkyū’ had an immediate appeal, and others at Bethel began to adopt it, too – especially those with serious mental health problems who were constantly urged to think about (and apologise) for who they were and how they behaved. Instead of being passive ‘patients’ who felt they needed to keep their heads down and be ashamed for acting differently, they could now become active ‘researchers’ of their own ailments. Tōjisha-kenkyū allowed these people to deny labels such as ‘victim’, ‘patient’ or ‘minority’, and to reclaim their agency.

Tōjisha-kenkyū is based on a simple idea. Humans have long shared their troubles so that others can empathise and offer wisdom about how to solve problems. Yet the experience of mental illness is often accompanied by an absence of collective sharing and problem-solving. Mental health issues are treated like shameful secrets that must be hidden, remain unspoken, and dealt with in private. This creates confused and lonely people, who can only be ‘saved’ by the top-down knowledge of expert psychiatrists. Tōjisha-kenkyū simply encourages people to ‘study’ their own problems, and to investigate patterns and solutions in the writing and testimonies of fellow tōjisha.

Self-reflection is at the heart of this practice. Tōjisha-kenkyū incorporates various forms of reflection developed in clinical methods, such as social skills training and cognitive behavioural therapy, but the reflections of a tōjisha don’t begin and end at the individual. Instead, self-reflection is always shared, becoming a form of knowledge that can be communally reflected upon and improved. At Bethel House, members found it liberating that they could define themselves as ‘producers’ of a new form of knowledge, just like the doctors and scientists who diagnosed and studied them in hospital wards. The experiential knowledge of Bethel members now forms the basis of an open and shared public domain of collective knowledge about mental health, one distributed through books, newspaper articles, documentaries and social media.

Tōjisha-kenkyū quickly caught on, making Bethel House a site of pilgrimage for those seeking alternatives to traditional psychiatry. Eventually, a café was opened, public lectures and events were held, and even merchandise (including T-shirts depicting members’ hallucinations) was sold to help support the project. Bethel won further fame when their ‘Hallucination and Delusion Grand Prix’ was aired on national television in Japan. At these events, people in Urakawa are invited to listen and laugh alongside Bethel members who share stories of their hallucinations and delusions. Afterwards, the audience votes to decide who should win first prize for the most hilarious or moving account. One previous winner told a story about a failed journey into the mountains to ride a UFO and ‘save the world’ (it failed because other Bethel members convinced him he needed a licence to ride a UFO, which he didn’t have). Another winner told a story about living in a public restroom at a train station for four days to respect the orders of an auditory hallucination. Tōjisha-kenkyū received further interest, in and outside Japan, when the American anthropologist Karen Nakamura wrote A Disability of the Soul: An Ethnography of Schizophrenia and Mental Illness in Contemporary Japan (2013), a detailed and moving account of life at Bethel House. "

-Japan's Radical Alternative to Psychiatric Diagnosis by Satsuki Ayaya and Junko Kitanaka

#personal #psych abolition #mad liberation #psychosis #altered states #antipsych #antipsychiatry #mad pride #peer support #schizophrenia #i have a pdf of the book somewhere if anyone wants #the book and the documentary also discuss some of the pratical struggles in creating a community like this which i also found helpful as #someone who is very interested in helping open a peer respite.

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luveline · 5 months

Note

would you do a james fainting fic 🙏🙏

—James doesn’t like you, but he’ll come to your rescue. fem, 1.5k The office is hot.

James dabs at his neck. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Remus rubbing his eye.

“You okay?” he asks.

You look up from the paper on your desk. When you realise he isn’t asking you, you look away, your lips pressing into a tight line. James tries not to show he’s noticed.

“Fine,” Remus mutters. “Fucked off ‘cos of the portal changing again. I hate these long passwords.”

“Are you hot or is it just me?”

You clear your throat. Usually, unless it’s Remus who’s spoken first or James has said something you find ridiculous, you won’t interrupt. “I’m really warm,” you say, “do you think I can open the window?”

“Like you can reach it, shorts. I’ll do it.” James jumps up from his seat. Whether you’re short or not has nothing to do with it. James is taller, and he holds it against you diligently.

He rounds your desks. The sun is worse on his skin than the heat alone. He can’t imagine how awful you must feel to have it on the side of your neck all day; in the half minute he stands there opening the window, the heat makes him queasy.

He tugs the blinds down enough to shield you. It’ll help the entire office, he thinks. Not just you. If you thought he was doing something nice you’d only interrogate his motives until you both turned irate, and that’s the last thing anyone needs today.

James isn’t sure how you and he ended up not liking one another. He’s never met anybody he didn’t like that wasn’t a massive wanker, and you are but you’re not, not really. When you first started he’d actually thought you were cute, and funny, if a little quiet. It didn’t matter because James is used to quiet people. But one thing turned to another, he’d used your mug without washing it, you’d left him off of the department emails for the quarter, then the snipping started. Constant nitpicking and bickering. You make it too easy, and so what if he likes how you look when you’re mad? It doesn’t hurt anybody to put your mug in the stockroom and your lunch on a different shelf. If anything, he’s keeping you vigilant.

You don’t look vigilant. You don’t say anything as James sits back down, even though he hits his knee for the hundredth time on his desk. You usually love it. Sometimes when you’re tired he does it on purpose to give you a reason to keep going till 4:30.

“Are you okay?” James asks finally, eyeing your face. “You look funnier than usual.”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” He should stop being mean. You look like you’re gonna pass out.

Remus peeks over his computer screen. “You don’t look well,” he says.

“I’m fine.” You roll your seat back.

James pushes back at the same time. “Wait a second–”

You’re standing before James can stop you, but he stands up anyways, and he takes your elbow into his hand though he shouldn’t. You give him the most peculiar look, almost like you’re enjoying his touch, just for those two seconds, before your chin dips down and your eyes squeeze closed, and all of you goes slack.

James grabs you at the precipice of a bad fall.

You’re still as a doll in his hands. He leans back with a quick sigh, his arm curling over the small of your back and upward. Your legs aren’t holding your weight, and you begin to slip.

James could keep you up, he doesn’t go to the gym for nothing, but Remus rushes to his aid and pushes your chair back, helping him set you down on the floor. “What do we do?” Remus asks urgently.

James puts his hand behind your head. You’re slack. When he touches your face, your skin is as hot as the heart of a furnace.

“Can you get some water?” he asks Remus.

James is peculiarly calm. He knows you’re just hot, it’s not uncommon for people to faint in high temperatures, and he’s honestly confident in his ability to look after you. It’s very sad to see you unwell, of course, and his heart is beating fast as he takes in your slack mouth.

“Hey, Y/N,” he says, cupping your cheek gently. He gives your face a little shake, reluctant to be rough with you while you’re vulnerable, even if some force would help. “Hey, can you hear me? You’re okay, can you open your eyes?”

Nothing. He leans down a touch to listen for your breath, and it’s fine, if a tad fast.

Remus comes back with a cup of water and Sirius, which is predictable but not super helpful. “Jesus,” Sirius says. “I’ll call an ambulance.”

“She’ll die of embarrassment,” Remus says.

“She’s coming around,” James says, patting your cheek, thrilled when your eyelashes twitch. “I think we should go into the break room, is it empty? We can sit her on the sofa.”

“You don’t think we should do something a bit more drastic?” Sirius asks.

James feels rather defensive of you. Remus is right, you would die of embarrassment if they called an ambulance, and he’s sure you’re fine. You have to be fine. “She just fainted, it’s so hot in here. Go open a window in the break room and we’ll wait for her to come around.”

Sirius glares playfully at being told what to do, but he goes, and Remus kneels down beside James with a cup of water. Someone from the front of the office asks if you’re alright, but James misses what they’re saying as you let out a whine.

All of a sudden, his attention is fully yours.

“Hey,” he murmurs.

Your eyes open slowly, lashes heavy like they’re thick with honey. You take in a deep, deep breath through your nose, and you blink, and you turn into his hand where it’s holding your cheek with all the familiarity of a lover. “James,” you mumble.

His stomach aches. He ignores it. “You okay? Can you look at me properly? I need to make sure you’re fine.”

“I’m fine,” you say, face pressed to his hand.

“Just look at me. Just for a second.”

You pull yourself with clear annoyance from his hand and open your eyes properly. He can pinpoint the moment you realise who he is, how you're touching, and he can’t explain the pang he gets when you rush up and away from his touch. “Oh, fuck,” you mumble, dropping your head, your fingers to your forehead and your thumb covering your eyes.

“Hey, don’t move around so much.” He continues to be soft. You might have realised who it is that’s trying to look after you, and you might not want him to, but he’ll be damned if he lets your bickering stop him from making sure you’re as okay as he’d claimed to everyone else. “Are you okay?”

“Did I…”

“You fainted. Don’t worry, I caught you. Take it easy, okay? Have this.”

He presses the cup of water into your hand.

Somewhere behind him, Remus has moved away, and is seemingly fending off the masses of people coming to offer assistance.

You see them looking at you behind him and cover your face.

James shuffles forward quickly. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not gonna let anyone see you. I’m saving this embarrassment all for myself. Please drink your water.”

“Did everybody see me fall?”

“They saw us engaged in a loving cwtch. It was very romantic.”

You sip your water. In truth, you don’t look much better for passing out, and James can’t get the feeling of your face out of his hand. He wants to touch you again, his fingers hesitating an inch from your knee.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he says. “You don’t control the weather. Do you?”

“Of course I don’t.”

“Then why are you sorry? It was alright. You have nothing to be sorry for, okay? We just want to make sure you’re okay. Sirius wanted to call an ambulance,” —you visibly baulk— “and I told him no, don’t worry. Then all the attention would be on you, and not me for my valiant rescue.”

“Was I heavy?” you ask, your mumbling nearly friendly.

“I can bench press two twenty.”

“That… doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“You’re nothing I couldn’t handle, shortcake. Do you think you can stand up? I’ll take you into the break room. You can lay down on the sofa.”

You make a soft sound James won’t soon forget and put your hand out for his help. He doesn’t have to force you. You don’t have to ask. He helps you stand and keeps an arm behind your back, shielding you from the worried and curious gazes of your coworkers.

You press your cheek to his chest.

Remus looks at you both like you’ve been body-snatched, but it’s too late to wuss out now.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #the marauders #marauders era #marauders

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xoamiiren · 20 days

Text

CHARMED BY HER, ⋆｡°✩ 𓈒𓈒 girls to women

𖥔 PRECIS. In which they suddenly call you “noona” PAIRING. younger bf!enha x older gf!reader GENRE. fluff WARNINGS. skinship, mild kissing, very mild age gaps

authors note ୨୧ Something about the way I wrote Ni-ki… Someone cooked here. 🍷

────────

HEESEUNG

Heeseung leaned against his car, his eyes scanning the bustling crowd outside the cinema, but there was only one person he was waiting for. In his hand, he held a bouquet of roses, but his mind was entirely on you.

He’d always loved that you were older.

There was something about the way you carried yourself, with a confidence and grace that only came with time, that drove him wild. He took pride in knowing that, younger or not, he could handle a woman like you.

When you finally stepped out, arm-in-arm with your friends, his heart skipped a beat. You were stunning, the kind of stunning that made heads turn and conversations pause. But Heeseung didn’t care about anyone else’s gaze. The way you looked at him, with that knowing smile, was enough to make him feel like the luckiest guy in the world.

You caught sight of him across the street, and Heeseung couldn’t help but smirk. Clad in all black with silver accents, he knew he looked good, but what thrilled him more was knowing that you appreciated it. He was obsessed with everything about you—the way you walked, the way you talked, the way you dressed. There was a maturity to you that he admired.

As you said quick goodbyes to your friends, your heels clicked against the pavement as you made your way to him. Heeseung’s eyes never left you, drinking in the sight of your swaying hips, the way your hair caught in the evening breeze, the way the city lights reflected in your eyes. By the time you reached him, he was already lost in you.

Without thinking, he pulled you into his arms, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. The way you laughed, so freely and joyously, made his heart soar. As he set you down, he captured your lips in a slow, sweet kiss that spoke volumes. It wasn’t just about the moment; it was about everything you were to him—how much he adored you, how proud he was to be the man who could keep up with you, who could make you feel like the incredible woman you were.

When he pulled away, his lips brushed against yours as he whispered, “You look so pretty, noona…~”

You felt your knees grow weak.

The way he said it, with that mix of sweetness and something deeper, more possessive, sent shivers down your spine. He knew exactly how to push your buttons, how to make you feel desired in a way that no one else could. It caught you entirely off-guard

You peered up at him, your playful persona melting as you giggled, like a girl in high school all over again.

“N-noona…? Since when do you—”

But Heeseung silenced you with another kiss, more urgent this time, before taking your hand and pulling you along.

His smile was teasing and there was no denying the faint blush across his cheeks, but his grip was firm, reassuring. “We can’t be late for dinner.”

And just like that, you were swept away into the night, feeling every bit the woman Heeseung loved to cherish.

JAY

Jay had never forgotten the first time he saw you—sitting alone at a bar, perched on a high-top chair. Your slender legs were elegantly crossed, and your manicured fingernails traced the rim of your martini glass with a casual grace.

There was something about you that caught his eye, something more mature and refined than the younger girls he was used to. You exuded a confidence and sophistication that intrigued him.

Summoning his courage, he approached you, his heart pounding with a mix of excitement and nerves. To his delight, you turned out to be even more captivating than he’d imagined—sexy, intelligent, and witty.

That night marked the beginning of something new for Jay, something thrilling.

Now, here you were, sitting on his kitchen counter, wine glass in hand, chatting about your day at the floral shop you owned—a detail that Jay found irresistibly charming.

As he sautéed the ingredients for your dinner, the sizzling aroma filled the air. He glanced over at you, admiring the way you effortlessly combined elegance with warmth.

He lifted a piece of perfectly cooked meat from the pan and held it out to you between silver chopsticks, his lips curving into a soft smile.

“Careful, noona… it’s hot.” he murmured, as your plump lips parted to take a bite.

He didn’t even realize he had added “Noona” somewhere in there until he saw the way you paused, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Did you just call me… Noona?” you asked, your eyes widening in surprise.

Jay’s own face flushed as he quickly realized what he had said.

“I… uh, yes,” he stammered, then repeated it more confidently, though still with a hint of shyness.

Your response was a tender smile as you slipped off the counter, moving toward him with a graceful stride. Leaning in, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, your breath warm against his skin.

“I liked that.” You purred, hugging him behind.

Jay’s heart fluttered at the affectionate gesture, and he couldn’t help but smile back at you, feeling a deep sense of contentment in the moment you shared.

JAKE

Jake sat across from you, biting his lip in focus as he eyed the cards in his hand, but even with all his effort, you were winning—again, for the fifth time in a row.

When you confidently laid down your last card, a giggle escaped your lips as Jake groaned dramatically, burying his face into the pillows.

“How are you so good?!” he whined, voice muffled by the fabric.

You couldn’t help but crawl across the couch, rubbing his back gently and ruffling his hair.

“Jake~ it’s okay, baby… this just isn’t your game.”

He lifted his head just enough to shoot you a playful glare. “Now you’re teasing!”

You laughed, shaking your head. "I’m just being honest… we can’t be good at everything."

Jake huffed and pouted, crossing his arms. "Noona, are you cheating?!"

You blinked, raising a brow. "Noona?"

You had always teased Jake about being older, about how he liked older woman. The boys called it mommy issues. And well, he had always jokingly called you mommy… but Noona? It had a lovely ring to it.

His eyes widened in realization, and he quickly pulled his hoodie down over his eyes. “I meant—your name! I meant to say (Y/N), are you cheat…”

His voice trailed off as you broke into laughter, and before you knew it, he sighed and tugged you down into a tight bear hug, his face nestled against you.

"Ugh, you’re impossible."

SUNGHOON

Sunghoon couldn’t help but admire you from his spot in the nearby chair, leaning back with his arms folded as his eyes trailed over your focused expression. The moment he met you at that art exhibit—before knowing the pieces were yours—he had been drawn to you.

And now, watching you with your glasses pushed up on your nose, hair messily tied in a bun, eyes steady on your work, he couldn’t help but think how beautiful you looked.

But as much as he loved seeing you so absorbed, he was starting to get a little jealous. You had been working for hours, and while he knew how much it meant to you, he wanted your attention. He placed a hand on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Y/N…" he muttered, his voice laced with longing.

You hummed in response, still not looking up from your work, and he huffed, sounding adorably impatient.

"Can we take a break?" he asked, almost pleading.

“I’m almost finished, Hoon… be patient,” you replied with a raised brow, not bothering to look up.

He pouted, pulling away like a child who had just been scolded, fiddling with the fabric of your shirt. His fingers curled nervously, and he let out a quiet whine.

“Mm… noona…” His cheeks flushed as the word slipped out, and you immediately stilled, the playful smile tugging at your lips as you turned to him.

“Yes, Sunghoon?” you asked with a knowing smirk. He dropped his head in defeat, and you couldn’t help but giggle softly.

"Okay, okay," you said with a laugh, starting to pack up your things, your work finally getting the break Sunghoon had been waiting for.

SUNOO

It was the two of you’s day off, and you thought it’d be nice to go shopping with your boyfriend! After you picked out a few things, Sunoo had insisted you help him pick out some items.

Sunoo admired himself in the mirror, tugging lightly at the silky dress shirt you’d picked out for him.

As you stood behind him, you cooed, “You look so handsome… and cute too.”

He giggled, his face tinged with pink, but still tried to keep a serious gaze on his reflection.

“You really think so?” he asked, fighting back more giggles as he examined himself.

You nodded, teasing him just a bit more before he hurried off to the dressing room to try on the next piece.

When he came back out in a soft crimson sweater, you snuck up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist, your chin resting lightly on his shoulder.

“You look so good,” you whispered sweetly. Sunoo tried to focus on his reflection, but you could feel him stiffen slightly at how close you were being.

You were being so cute!

Your big eyes peering over his shoulder at him in the reflexion of the shop’s mirror. It was completely different from the professional persona he sees you in at the cafe you both worked at, you being older than him, and his manager.

Finally, he slipped on a pretty knitted cardigan and came out of the dressing room. You smiled, stepping behind him again, and this time, you let your hands slide under the soft fabric, resting on his waist.

His blush deepened as you stepped up on your tip toes a bit and kissed the little spot behind his ear, humming softly against his skin.

“Do you like this one?” He asked, voice playful and a little nervous.

“Mhm~” you hummed in response, planting another kiss on his cheek.

He flushed even more, finally stammering, as he shied away, and without thinking, a soft murmur slipped past his lips.

“N-noona… that tickles~” You froze, wondering if you had heard him properly before a smirk tugged at your lips.

“Noona, huh?” you teased, watching as his eyes widened.

“I didn’t- that’s not what I said!”

His blush deepened, and without another word, he quickly hid back in the dressing room, leaving you laughing softly as you waited for him to come out again.

JUNGWON

The office buzzed with its usual energy, but today, something felt different.

Jungwon, a young intern from the university that everyone admired for his professional charm and leadership skills, not to mention good looks to match, was walking toward your desk.

It was no secret that Jungwon had a bit of a soft-spot for you. Making sure to pass by your desk everyday with a bright-eyed good morning and a coffee, walking you to your car at the end of the day, even staying late to help you with extra work loads from your boss.

Jungwon was a sweetheart, and maybe you too admired him just a little more than a co-worker should, but he was still in college! As he neared your desk, Your colleagues scattered in giggles as he approached, their whispers filling the air.

You were labeled as the office siren, known for your flirtatious demeanor and the constant playful glint in your eyes, just like right now, as you leaned up happily watching Jungwon set a cup of coffee in front of you— just the way you liked it.

“Good morning,” he smiled, his cheeks tinged with pink. You smiled back, amused by his bashfulness.

“Morning, Wonnie,” you replied teasingly, enjoying the way his name rolled off your tongue.

You couldn’t help but notice the way he watched you tugged your pencil skirt down to better cover your thighs, before you crossed your legs and sat up properly.

As you chatted back and forth, you noticed his nerves slowly melting away, from the way he tugged gently at his tie to when he raked a hand through his neatly styled locks. But then, as Jungwon slipped in a shy, yet flirty remark you decided to test the waters.

“Aren’t I a little too old for you, Wonnie?” You hummed softly, tilting your head.

Just as you finished, Jungwon took off his glasses, shaking his head as his gaze locked with yours in a way that sent your heart racing. The shy boy you knew had vanished, replaced by someone far more confident, more daring.

“Are you interested in someone?” he asked, his voice dropping to a low murmur.

“I… N-no, but—”, you began and he tilted his head.

“I’m a younger guy with rhythm, isn’t that better?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come out. Jungwon leaned in, his breath warm against your ear.

“Noona… I think you need someone with lots of energy,” he purred, a playful pout on his lips.

“I can keep up, don’t you think?”

The world seemed to spin as you tried to process his sudden transformation. Just then, your team lead started making rounds, and Jungwon quickly straightened up, slipping his glasses back on with a formal bow.

“Have a great day,” he said with a polite smile, but not before sending you a cheeky wink that left you absolutely flustered.

As he walked away, back to his nerdy, professional self, you couldn’t help but stare after him, stunned and wondering what on earth had just happened.

NI-KI

Even before you and Ni-ki started dating, you had an ongoing joke. He'd tease you about being older, and you'd playfully scold him for not respecting you as his elder. But there was one thing Ni-ki always refused to do— call you "Noona."

He insisted he wanted you to see him as a man. But today, things were different.

You slowly blinked awake from your usual mid-day nap, noticing how warm Ni-ki's arms were around you. Carefully, you pried yourself from his hold and stood up, stretching your arms with a soft yawn.

But before you could fully wake up, you heard Ni-ki stir behind you, his deep groan filling the quiet room. You turned to see him sitting up, rubbing his sleepy eyes, his bangs messy and falling into them.

He looked beautiful like this—puffy-eyed, pouty-lipped, and a little grumpy from being woken up.

"You were so warm..." he muttered, his voice still thick with sleep.

A smile tugged at your lips as you sat on the edge of the bed. "Ni-ki, we can't sleep the whole day away."

"Just a bit longer... please...?" he mumbled, eyes barely open. Then, in a voice softer than usual, he added, "Come back to bed, noona."

Your heart skipped a beat, surprised by the word you thought you'd never hear from him.

"You called me noona just now..." you teased, leaning closer.

He hummed in response, already halfway back to sleep.

"One more time?" you whispered, knowing his answer before he even spoke.

"No..." he yawned, pulling you back down into his arms.

You sighed softly, smiling to yourself as you snuggled against his chest, your eyes drifting closed again.

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propertyofwicked · 4 months

Text

WANTED - LN

based on this request ✧ my inbox is open for requests (or if u just want a chat!) ✧

warnings - smut! MDNI!! jealous!lando, fingering + oral (fem receiving), possessive!! unprotected (stay safe yall), spitting, light slapping (u have been warned) not proofread

ur girl has finally officially finished first year!! i have never felt so freeee (im ignoring the fact i now have to move out rip) (also osc p2 monaco lets gooooo)

masterlist the playlist

lando had been busy lately, too busy. between races, training, and quadrant, it seemed like he barely had any time to himself, or to spend with y/n. she understood, of course, she knew how demanding his career was - but understanding didn't make the loneliness any easier to bear.

and even when he was around, it’s like he wasn’t there at all, not for her at least.

everyone was stood around at the end of a quadrant shoot - it had only been filmed at max’s house so the group settled into the living room easily. y/n there to accompany lando since she had little else to do, desperate to spend any time she could with her boyfriend before he flew off to the next race - even if it did mean sleeping in max’s spare room.

lando stood on the opposite side of the room, talking almost exclusively to max, whilst she sat on the sofa, alone.

y/n didn’t think anything of it when will came and sat next to her, showing her a meme on his phone that she laughed at. and she didn’t think anything of it when they continued the friendly conversation. it felt good to be noticed, to have someone ask her how she’d been - maybe she laughed a little too much at a joke that wasn’t funny, maybe it was just the first time anyone had shown her any attention in a while.

across the room, lando watched the interaction with a frown. he saw the way y/n laughed, the way she leaned in a little too close to his friend. he knew he had been neglecting her, but seeing her with someone else made his blood boil. he wasn’t possessive, no, and usually the sight of his girlfriend laughing with their friends didn’t strike any anger in him. but this was different.

“— we can post that next week sometime?” max said, interrupting his thoughts.

“yeah, yeah - sounds good,” lando replied, not really listening, “i’ll be back in a minute, just need to do something,” he added before striding across the room, leaving max stood alone, his face contorting into slight confusion.

“hey," lando said to the two, his voice low, "mind if i steal her for a minute?"

will looked somewhat confused, but nodded. lando reached out, taking y/n wrist before yanking her from the sofa, pulling them into the hallway. the door shut behind them, y/n’s mouth opened, ready to ask him what was so urgent.

"lando, what are you—"

but he didn't let her finish, pushing her against the wall, his hands on either side of her head, caging her in.

"what the hell were you doing?" he demanded, his eyes sharpening with jealousy. he was met with her eyes glaring up at him in defiance.

"i was having a conversation, lando. something i rarely do with you because you're always so busy."

"so your idea of fun is flirting with my friends?" his jaw clenching.

"flirting?" she shot back, shocked, “he was asking me how i was?”

“and that’s why you were two seconds away from giggling and twirling you hair for him, no?” lando continued to argue, anger still bubbling in him as one hand dropped to her hip, gripping tightly.

“ok, i was flirting with him and now, we’re going to run away and live a long and happy life together - is that what you wanna hear?” she continued, shrugging slightly as she sighed at the ridiculousness.

he stared at her for a long moment, his chest heaving. without warning, he crashed his lips onto hers roughly, his possessiveness filled with pent-up frustration and desire he'd been ignoring for weeks. y/n responded instantly, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss, his tongue swiping her bottom lip, begging for more.

"lan," she breathed out as he broke the kiss, whining slightly as his mouth moved to press kisses down her neck, nipping at the flesh harshly, "there’s people here."

"’don't care," he growled against her skin. "you're mine, and im going to remind you of that."

he kissed her again, his hands roaming over her body, gripping at her hips. she moaned into his mouth, her resistance melting away. she was engulfed in him, the way he touched her, the way he pushed her further into the wall as his hips rolled into hers.

"need you," she breathed when he pulled back for air, his forehead resting against hers.

he nodded, his pupils blown with his own need.

"come on," he told her, taking her hand to guide them up the stairs to max’s spare room.

stumbling through the door, clothes already being discarded, lando pushed her onto the bed, his eyes raking over her body.

"you're so beautiful," he murmured, crawling over her. "and mine. only mine."

"only yours," she whispered, pulling him down to kiss him again.

“gonna need you to be quiet f’me, ok?” he told her as his lips trailed her body, his body sliding down the bed till he was resting on his knees. he pulled her legs closer to him so his face was level with her heat, her hips moved upwards, desperate for anything after weeks of nothing.

“patience, angel,” lando breathed out, moving his finger to toy with her clit slowly. he wrapped an arm around her leg, pulling it over his shoulder as he rests his forearm over her stomach, stopping her wriggling. his finger returns to her folds, slowly he pushing a digit inside her, feeling the stretch around him. his lips joined onto her clit, sucking harshly as he added a second finger, curling them up into her.

“please lan,” she moaned out, unsure of what she was even asking for.

his fingers never faltered, continuing their assault as they hit that spot that had her pushing her hips up, his tongue circling her clit once more before he pulled his face away from her heat. his eyes flittered from looking up at her before moving back to watch as his fingers disappeared inside her. she tightened around him, her breathing heavier as she began to fall apart for him. she was getting fidgety, her moans gaining in volume as his thumb returned to her clit, rubbing deep circles, his other hand still pushing two fingers into her at an alarming rate.

“shush angel,” lando told her, before trailing his spare hand up her body and pushing his thumb into her mouth slowly. her hand moved to grip his arm as her tongue glided along his thumb. as much as he wanted to hear her, as much as he wanted everyone to know who she belonged to, he also wanted her all to himself - no one else deserved to hear her fall apart for him.

his mouth barely had time to return to her clit before her legs were shaking around him, clamping around his head periodically as she came around his fingers.

“good girl,” lando mumbled against her thigh, his fingers slowing inside her as she rode out her high.

“need more lan, please,” y/n begged, pulling at his arm to bring his body back to hover over hers.

“so needy,” he replied, pressing a kiss to her lips, allowing her to taste herself.

“been too long,” she told him, a hand reaching down to tug at his hardened length a few times.

he would’ve felt guilty about neglecting her needs for so long, if it wasn’t for the feeling of her fingers wrapping around him, her thumb circling his tip before spreading pre cum down his cock.

“let me make it up to you,” lando told her, pressing a kiss to her jaw, before taking himself in his hands and running his tip through her slick folds. he pushed into her roughly, finding himself desperate to feel her after so long.

“breathe for me angel,” he told her, pulling out slightly as he felt the way her body tense,, “feel so good.”

his cock pushed into her again, setting a steady pace as he leant back over to kiss her harshly.

“feels good,” she told him, eyes looking into his. his necklace dangled from his neck, the cool metal settling on her skin.

“yeah? ‘my the only person who makes you feel like this?” he asked bitingly.

“you snatched me away before will had the chance to do a better job,” she teased cautiously.

lando pushed himself back, rising to stand at the end of the bed, his cock never leaving her. he pulled her legs again, yanking her roughly to the edge of the bed before pulling one of her legs over his shoulder. her eyes began to glaze over from the new position, his length thrusting into her tightening walls at a relentless pace. however, a sharp sting on her cheek brought her back to reality, sending shots of pleasure to her core whilst tears pricked her eyes. lando’s had slapped at her face lightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to tell her that she had pissed him off a little too much.

“you wanna say that shit again?” he grunted, slowing his pace to roll his hips into hers tauntingly.

she genuinely considered it for a moment, contemplating how possessive he could get if she teased him further, but his fingers dipped into her cheek, holding her jaw tight.

she shook her head quickly as if to say no, refraining from flinching as his hand moved, but this time it fell gently, stroking her cheek where it stung.

“good answer,” lando added, returning to a regular pace, “you gonna behave now?”

“i wi- will,” she choked out, nodding despite his grip on her face, “i promise.”

satisfied with her answer, his fingers moved to toy with her clit. using the leg over his shoulder and her other leg wrapped around his waist as an anchor, her hips rose from the bed, moving in circular motions to match the pattern his fingers drew on her heat. lando’s free hand gripped at her calf, pulling her closer to him, deepening his thrusts. the tip of his cock pressing desperately into her as she whimpered and moaned his name.

lando leaned forward to kiss her, letting her leg over his shoulder drop to his waist so that she wasn’t folded literally in half. y/n wrapped around him tightly, pulling him in to kiss her deeper, tongues clashing as his thrusts faltered slightly. he balanced on his arm as his head dropped from her lips, his teeth nipping at the skin of her breast before his lips wrapped around her nipple, his free hand moved to grip tightly onto her other breast, fingers toying with her.

y/n whimpered, trying to keep quiet as she remembered how many people were also in the house. lando smirked to himself, loving the way she sounded, the way her heat gripped around his length as he moved inside her. his teeth pulled at the skin of her breast again, the flesh moving with him as he pulled away before dropping, bouncing slightly as it landed.

“so pathetic,” he grunted, feeling his high coming rapidly as he looked at her head thrown back. her mouth hung open, heavy breaths escaping, and her nails gripped tightly into the skin of his bicep. his other hand moved to settle lightly on her neck, thumb and index finger holding her jaw open for him. lando’s face hovered above hers, their eyes locking as a trail of spit fell from his mouth, landing on her tongue. he watched as she swallowed it, before re-joining their lips in a messy kiss.

“look at you, taking me so well,” he cooed, “’m so stupid for neglecting you,” he added, his tone softening from his previous frustration.

“not stupid,” she reassured, kissing his jaw.

“i love you,” he told her softly, despite his hips quickening in their movement, feeling the way her legs tightened as she got closer to her climax. his lips returned to her neck, sucking softly at the flesh, blood running cold as his ears picked up on the way she panted out his name.

“lan, baby, im go-”

“i know,” he told her, eyes squeezing shut, “let go baby, i got you.”

she came hard and fast around him, the tightening of her walls bringing him to his own climax.

“can i come inside?” he asked her, almost begging. she nodded rapidly, unable to talk as her mind became fuzzy.

“fuck,” he grunted, hips snapping into hers desperately before shooting ropes of warm cum into her, filling her completely, “all mine,” he said, more to himself than her.

lando pulled out slowly, careful of the way her eyes screwed up from the sting before rolling to lay next to her, chests heaving in unison. he turned his head to face her, noting the bruises forming on her neck and her chest, till his eyes settled on the red flush of her cheek.

“i didn’t hurt you did i?” he asked softly, hand reaching up to stroke at the redness.

“not really, it was hot,” she said with a shrug, smirking as she turned her head to face him.

“noted,” lando replied, laughing lightly.

“love it when you get possessive,” y/n added, cautious with her next statement, “makes me feel wanted.”

“im sorry i ever made you feel unwanted, angel. i never meant to,” he sighed, pulling her body close to his so that her head rested on his bare chest, “ill do better i promise.”

“i know you will, lan - i just wish i didn’t have to ask to be wanted, you know?” she told him, her fingers stroking lightly at his shoulder.

“you are wanted, y/n,” he repeated fiercely, “you are everything to me. i think i just got too comfortable with how things were, i jus- it took the thought of you leaving, the thought of you with someone else to bring me back to reality.”

“i am yours lando, forever,” she assured him, holding out her pinky to join his, “i promise. besides, if you keep fucking me like that i don’t think i could ever leave,” she joked.

“yeah?”

“but if you keep spitting in my mouth i may go completely feral, you won’t be able to get rid of me,” she said, smirking up at him, “do that again and you’re actually having my children.”

“that’s…not possible?” he questioned, smiling at her.

“so you don’t love me? is what you’re saying?” she asked, pushing herself up to look in dead in the eyes, her mouth straining to stay clamped shut in fear of laughing.

“i fear for what i have started,” lando laughed, pulling her back tightly into his chest.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #propertyofwicked

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