#and then i sit a few feet away on an armchair that needs to be reupholstered. so i have to shrimp to be able to reach my keyboard and mouse | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

baelarys · 2 months

Text

Thérèse pt2

Aemond targaryen X Reader velaryon

Word count: 1644

Warning : anguts,Mention of suicide.

Author's note: I would appreciate it if you read this with the song la nave del olvido by José José

Thérèse pt1

The young lady entered the princess's room, the light curtains blocking the morning sun as she set down the new tray of food and removed the old one.

The room was quiet, although that was nothing unusual; hers lady must have been asleep, or perhaps she was already awake and her deep cloak of sadness had not allowed her to get out of bed.

With quiet, sure steps, he adjusted the curtains to allow a little more light to come in, hoping that the soft glow could offer some comfort to the princess. Then he approached the bed with a bow, watching to see if his mistress showed any signs of being awake.

"Good morning, my lady," she murmured respectfully. "I brought your breakfast. Is there anything else I can do for you this morning?"

SHe didn't hear any response, so she decided to move the curtains that provided more privacy to the bed. What she saw left her cold: The princess, whom she had known since she was a child, was lying in her bed without any sign of life. Her delicate face, as pale as snow, contrasted painfully with the plump cheeks that had always been a beautiful red.

The lady felt a lump in her throat as she tried to process what she saw. She approached slowly, desperately hoping to find some sign of breathing, some hint of life. But there was nothing. The princess, in her deep sadness, had finally succumbed.

With silent tears beginning to stream down her face, the young lady leaned down and took her mistress's hand, finding it cold to the touch. The dried blood soaked into the white sheets was silent testimony to the desperation and suffering the princess had endured.

Gathering what little courage she had left, the lady stood up and headed for the door. She knew that he should notify the others, but at that moment, her heart was overwhelmed with pain. With one last glance at the princess, the young lady left the room, ready to bring the sad news to those who needed to know.

"What?" said Queen Alicent, unable to believe what had happened.

"She... she is dead," the young lady repeated with a trembling voice, her gaze fixed on the stone floor.

"how? Gods, this can't be!" The queen's voice cracked as she sank into her chair, unable to process the magnitude of the tragedy.

The room fell silent, broken only by the echo of the young lady's shaky breathing and the queen's suppressed sob. Alicent, slightly recovering from the initial shock, struggled to her feet, her face reflecting a mixture of disbelief and pain.

"We must inform the king," She said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "And organize the preparations. Let the Masters examine the body and let the Septon pray for her soul."

The young lady nodded, wiping the tears from her face. The heavy responsibility of the news she carried did not allow him to falter. With firm steps, he headed towards the king's chamber, knowing that that day would mark a deep wound in the heart of the kingdom.

Alicent, still in shock, wiped away the few tears that escaped from her eyes. A grim thought crossed his mind: how would he tell Aemond? He was already dealing with the loss of his daughter, and now he would also have to deal with the death of his young wife.

With a deep sigh, she headed towards his son's chamber. The corridor seemed endless, each step carrying the weight of the news she had to share. Upon arriving, she found Aemond sitting in an armchair, absorbed in his thoughts.

“Aemond,” she said softly, his voice shaking, “I need to talk to you.”

He looked up, immediately noticing the gravity on his mother's countenance. Alicent knelt next to him, holding his hand tightly.

"It's... it's your wife. She... has passed away. I'm so sorry, my son."

Aemond froze, his face showing a mix of disbelief and pain before reality hit him. A heartbreaking sob escaped her lips as she leaned forward, holding her mother's hand tightly.

––––––––––

Queen Rhaenyra entered the council chamber, her commanding presence silencing any murmurs. With one graceful movement, he sat down in his chair.

“We can begin,” she said firmly, her eyes sweeping over each of the councilors present.

The room remained silent. The members of her council exchanged uneasy glances, none willing to be the first to break the tragic news. Rhaenyra watched them expectantly, sensing the tension in the air.

Finally, the Grand Master cleared his throat and stepped forward, bowing his head slightly in respect.

“My queen, I bring news from King's Landing,” he began, his voice trembling slightly. “This morning, the young princess was found... lifeless.”

A whisper of dismay ran through the room. Rhaenyra remained silent for a moment, taking in the information. His expression was a mask of control, although shock was evident in his eyes.

“Y/N...?” she asked weakly “How…? She is dead? No, it can not be. My daughter had no enemies; The people loved her.”

Rhaenyra gave a nervous laugh, hoping that her child's death was a mistake, but she received no answer. The room remained in a tense silence.

“How?” she finally asked, tears held back in her eyes.

"From what it seems, the princess herself ended her life, or someone else did," the maester reported. "There are rumors that you yourself gave the order to end her."

Rhaenyra looked at everyone, bewildered.

"I!? Order the death of my own daughter?!” she shouted, “I'm dealing with the loss of a child and now the loss of my baby and my granddaughter.”

The room remained silent, all eyes avoiding her. Rhaenyra turned to Daemon, seeking some support, but his face seemed unchanged, almost indifferent to the tragedy.

Rhaenyra took a deep breath, trying to regain control.

"You ordered that?!" Rhaenyra asked angrily once the council had left.

Daemon was sitting, looking at his hands.

"It was an accident," he said, trying to defend himself.

"An accident? How could that be an accident?" Rhaenyra approached her husband, anger and desperation in her eyes. "It is a disgusting and horrible act committed in my name, Daemon."

"You said you wanted Aemond." His voice did not show any regret.

"I said I wanted Aemond," Rhaenyra claimed, "I didn't say I wanted you to kill innocent children and women."

"It was an accident," Daemon repeated, this time with annoyance.

"It does not matter!" The queen cried, her voice cracking with anguish. "Your recklessness has cost me a daughter and a granddaughter."

The room fell silent. Rhaenyra fell into one of the armchairs as tears ran down her face.

"My sweet girl... she is dead now," she lamented, sobbing hard.

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the sadness and despair of a mother who had lost her daughter. Rhaenyra, lost in her grief, barely noticed when Daemon stood up and approached her. He looked at her, his own eyes shining with a mixture of remorse and suppressed fury.

"Rhaenyra, I'm sorry..." he began, but his voice broke. The words that followed seemed empty given the magnitude of the tragedy.

"No," she answered, her voice barely above a whisper. "You can't understand what you've done. You have destroyed everything I loved. My daughter, my granddaughter…” she sobbed, her body shaking with the intensity of her pain. "I will never forgive you, Daemon. Never."

Daemon helplessly watched her fall apart. He knew there was nothing he could say or do to repair the damage done. The queen, broken inside, hugged herself, her sobs echoing in the empty room, a sad melody that marked the end of a hope and the beginning of a mourning that would never end.

The air in the room became thick, as if the castle itself was mourning the loss of its princess. The night, dark and silent, loomed over them, wrapping them in a blanket of infinite sadness. Rhaenyra, lost in her grief, curled up on the couch, her tears falling steadily as the reality of her loss settled deep in her heart.

Daemon, unable to bear the sight of his broken wife, slowly withdrew, leaving Rhaenyra in her pain, knowing that nothing could redeem him in her eyes. The queen, now alone, mourned the loss of her daughter, two innocent souls torn from her life by an act of incomprehensible brutality.

The echo of her sobs filled the room, echoing in every corner, a sad symphony of love and loss that would remain on the castle walls forever.

“Princess Y/N Velaryon was born in the year 113 A.C., the second daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen and her husband, Ser Laenor Velaryon, whose paternity was questioned by the court.

From her childhood and throughout her youth, she was a happy and beautiful girl, loved by the entire kingdom, who nicknamed her "The Jewel of the Kingdom." At the age of 16, the princess married her uncle, Prince Aemond Targaryen.

From this union a daughter was born, Alysa, who unfortunately died while she was still a baby. Princess Y/N Velaryon was a rider of the dragon Dawnlight, a majestic silver dragon.

To this day, it has not been clarified whether the princess's tragic end was caused by her stepfather or if it was the loss of her daughter that led to her own death. Her memory, however, remains alive in the heart of the kingdom, which still remembers her with affection and reverence.”

—True account of Archmaester Gyldayn of the Citadel of Antigua

329 notes · View notes

lookismfanfics · 2 years

Note

I NEED THE PART 2 OF THEM SLEEPING ON THE CHEST

Thank you all for the support! I’ll do my best 🫡

𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐.

Warnings: Fluff, jealousy, mild cursing, J*mes L**, DG spoilers

Zack • Johan • Gun • Goo • James L. • Kouji • Vin • Samuel

𝐙𝐚𝐜𝐤

🝮 One thing you’ve learned about teenage boys since you began dating one, is that the combination of tiredness and trust is a deadly one.

🝮 You watched Zack train today. He called you to his gym, showed off, and wore himself out.

🝮 So now that you’re home, you can see his displays of fatigue more clearly.

🝮 He becomes a puppy 😩

🝮 Maybe a grumpy puppy. But his eyes are soft and warm like a protective guard dog.

🝮 You help him out of his jacket and shoes- seeing as his hands are still sore.

🝮 The cold weather has its effects- even on your moron of a boyfriend.

🝮 You push his flopping bangs out of his hair, rubbing extra lotion onto his cracking hands.

🝮 The motion of your hands rubbing against his makes his eyelids droop.

🝮 You both fall onto the couch a few minutes later.

🝮 It doesn’t take long for you to see that Zack is on the brink of falling asleep.

🝮 “Come here,” you say as you open your arms to him.

🝮 Zack’s eyes, dark and soulful, don’t betray the doubt he feels. He hesitates.

🝮 “How come?”

🝮 You shrug- ignoring the sheepishness you feel crawling at your insides.

🝮 He looks at you full of trust, like this is secretly what he wanted the whole time, and all you can do is nod understandingly. You already know.

🝮 The thing about trust is that Zack has put all of his in you, and when he’s tired, he trusts you to tend to him in his vulnerability 🤲

🝮 Soon enough Zack is leaning onto your shoulder, breathing heavily against the fabric of your hoodie.

🝮 And gradually the two of you shift, and he relaxes his cheeks into your chest.

🝮 You play with his hair— trying desperately to stay cool while he drifts off to sleep.

🝮 I’m not gonna lie to you, sometimes he drools in his sleep, so watch out

🝮 You were the one that initiated it- sort of. In the morning he wants to pay you back. 🫣

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐚𝐧

🝮 You’re sitting on your armchair.

🝮 And Johan is sitting across the room.

🝮 Your hands rub gently between Eden’s perky ears, spurring on his excited tail wags and tip-tappy paws.

🝮 With Eden sitting in between your feet, Miro has no choice but to jump by your legs and wag her tail.

🝮 And as you smile, whispering sweet pet-names to the dogs, Johan frowns.

🝮 “They’re not usually this excited—” You laugh, looking up to Johan

🝮 Johan: 👺

🝮 You shift in your seat, releasing the fluffy ears of Eden and directing your attention at his owner.

🝮 “Is something wrong…?” You get the feeling like it’s something stupid, but to Johan it probably won’t be.

🝮 The corners of his mouth continue to perk downward, his brows furrowing gently.

🝮 Then he stands, walking towards you, kneeling down in front of you.

🝮 You’re on the edge of your seat, staring at him blankly. Waiting for him to explain.

🝮 And then, with his dark eyes still holding your gaze, Johan leans forward and rests his cheek against your chest.

🝮 🫠🫠🫠

🝮 “Johan…?” You suppress a chuckle, watching silently as he leans further into you, wrapping his arms around your middle.

🝮 The two of you gradually relax into the arm chair. He ends up straddling your lap a bit, head still firmly placed in your chest.

🝮 You listen quietly as he falls asleep, his breaths becoming heavier and evening out.

🝮 You stroke the bangs away from his eyes, pressing your lips against his forehead as she slumbers. Soon enough you fall asleep too.

🝮 Sweet bbb. A little jealous…?

🝮 He didn’t initiate it. You didn’t either. It was Eden 🫵

𝐆𝐮𝐧

🝮 He’s leaning forward on the edge of the couch, head sagging as he inwardly relays his day.

🝮 Your legs are wrapped around his hips, fingers pressing into his taut muscles.

🝮 “You look tired,” you mumble against the fabric of his shirt.

🝮 Jonggeon has just returned from a long day at work. His muscles are tight and sore, his hair begs to be played with after being styled for so long, his eyes are glazed and unfocused.

🝮 “You think I’m tired…? I don’t get tired.” You can hear the smirk even if you don’t see it, and you press harder into his shoulder blade.

🝮 He doesn’t flinch but he does shut up.

🝮 Your hands move to the sides of his face, cupping his porcelain cheeks that you know are secretly pudgy.

🝮 You use your fingers to stoke at the sides of his face, closing your eyes are you press against his muscular back.

🝮 “Aren’t you using that technique to help babies fall asleep?” Gun asks, turning his head towards you.

🝮 “So what if I am? Maybe that’s how I think of you…” you smile against his back, prodding his cheeks to further your teasing

🝮 He huffs indignantly, turning back to the front.

🝮 The room is cluttered- as a man’s flat should be. Except Gun’s place is usually neat- so it makes sense that the two of you are house sitting for Goo.

🝮 You feel Gun’s body getting warmer and his head sagging forward.

🝮 Gun is hot 99.9% of the time. That 1% is when he turns into a lap potato 🥔

🝮 You retract your hands away from his face, pull your legs out from his sides

🝮 “You should get some sleep,” you murmur, standing and planting a kiss on the crown of his head.

🝮 Gun grabs your wrist, “Where’re you going?” And you’re about to reply—

🝮 Wait a minute 😃 ☝️

🝮 You’re not standing anymore. You’re lying down?

🝮 Gun hovers above you, arms encasing you on either side.

🝮 You: 🐭

🝮 He can sense your embarrassment, even if you stubbornly refuse to show it. A smile appears on his face as he lowers onto your chest.

🝮 *Alarms go off in your head*

🝮 “Gun- get off-!” You try shoving this hunk away. It’s not working.

🝮 You close your eyes, willing yourself to calm down. You feel Gun’s eyelashes fluttering against your chest as he stares up at you.

🝮 His arms are still holding you to him. He’s still in control. He’s still on the verge of falling asleep-

🝮 You hear his breaths even out. You release a sigh you didn’t know you were holding in.

🝮 Now that Gun is asleep on your chest, you’re free to admire whatever part of him you can get a glimpse of. 👀

🝮 He initiated it. He knew exactly what he was doing. If he’s gonna be vulnerable he’s taking you down with him.

How did this one get so freaking long—?

𝐆𝐨𝐨

🝮 Goofy starts reading the trophy encased in his large gloved hands, voice reaching peak emotion. And as his son Max nods to his words, the sunset cascading shades of orange and pink in the background, pride radiates from the—

🝮 “Achoo-!” a very forced sneeze.

🝮 “Goo you idiot-!” You wail, turning to him with a scowl on your face.

🝮 “Excuse me-? And anyway this movie is boring! Let’s watch something else!”

🝮 Your frown deepens and you smack his hand away from the TV Remote. If you have any say, you two are going to finish An Extremely Goofy Movie.

🝮 But beside you, your goofy- Goo- is pouting like a baby.

🝮 As the movie continues you watch him in silence through the corner of your eye. You watch him stifle a yawn. Rub his eyes with his busted hands. Mumble about his sore neck.

🝮 You frown. It’s easy to recognize that his boredom has made him tired.

🝮 At first you just ignore him and let him be… at least until the end credits start rolling on the screen.

🝮 Your heart flutters as Goo reaches out for your thigh, crawling over you and resting his head on your legs.

🝮 You laugh, staring at the obnoxious expression on his face, “What if I was tired? How am I supposed to fall asleep?”

🝮 He lets out a gasp and frowns, stroking your arm lazily with his finger.

🝮 His expression remains the same… (° v °)

🝮 “How abo-o-u-ut… we b-o-t-h lay down, huh?” He asks slowly, dragging out the syllables

🝮 “Lemme turn on another movie first-” you mutter, leaning across his lean form to grab the remote. Beneath you Goo squirms.

🝮 Your finger barely presses the button before he snatches the remote out of your hands.

🝮 “Kim-!” You hiss irritably.

🝮 He ignores you (of course) and knocks you beside him on the couch.

🝮 “Shh, I got a good movie in mind-!”

🝮 Goo is laying with his back against the couch, surprisingly muscular arms wrapped around your waist.

🝮 You both face the TV screen; your head rests on a decorative pillow; his head lays on your chest.

🝮 By now you’re used to cuddling. Even if you’re not the biggest fan, Goo certainly is.

🝮 So when Newt dies and you’re the only one crying, you have to pause The Death Cure to glare at the man resting on your boobs.

🝮 Goo is sound asleep, rhythmic breaths ruffling your shirt. He looks calm for once.

🝮 Goo: 😴

🝮 You: 👺

🝮 He initiated it— and in return for falling asleep was banned from kissing you for the day.

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐞𝐞

🝮 Today has been a long… long day.

🝮 You heard about the increased vocal training James had been undertaking…. And a little birdie also noted that he was more than good

🝮 You weren’t sure what to expect, really.

🝮 When you arrived at his newly furnished flat, you found him staring at the fish tank.

🝮 His hair looked neater. His eyes looked dull.

🝮 He looked incredibly tired, incredibly handsome, and made you feel incredibly unhappy.

🝮 “Hey Ja— Diego. What’s with the soft boy look?” You try quietly, smiling as you lug the groceries into the kitchen.

🝮 He remained stationary at the fish tank, shoving his hands into his pockets.

🝮 You: 🧍

🝮 He shrugged his shoulders, turning his angular face towards you lazily, “It’s my new face. If you got a problem with it then too bad.”

🝮 You shake your head slowly, releasing a heavy sigh.

🝮 You knew this transition would be… hard.

🝮 Especially now that your boyfriend was realizing just how much he would have to change to fit into his new persona.

🝮 And even if he agreed to it and claimed it was for the best, you couldn’t help but feel a little irritated.

🝮 What happened to that wolffish boy? The legend of the first generation? The boy who had winked at you when he had just pummeled your would-be-assaulters as though they were nothing but animals

🝮 James Lee was being restrained. Limited in this new form of himself- Diego. A K-Pop idol.

🝮 That’s not to say he didn’t look handsome, or still act like his charming self. He did. But his previous ferocity was extinguished… and it was leaving him feeling empty.

🝮 “You look nice,” you say, opening the fridge with the milk carton in hand. “It’s just different.”

🝮 “This was supposed to make me look hotter. Do I not look hot to you?”

🝮 You try to hide your smile. That’s a trick that won’t work on you. Whatever he’s doing will not seduce you.

🝮 You turn. And sure enough there he is.

🝮 Yeah. He does look hot. With his gently molded muscles flexing as he leans onto the kitchen counter, bangs curtaining his aristocratic face.

🝮 You thought James was handsome before. But this sealed the deal.

🝮 “Uh huh, whatever you say DG,” You turn away with a smirk. “Looks like someone needs a nap though~”

🝮 In the reflection of the shiny new stove you can make out his hand reaching for his eyes, rubbing tenderly beneath them on his dark circles.

🝮 “It looks that obvious?” “Only to me, babe.”

🝮 You walk over to the large, luxurious couch. You’re still getting used to being around all this fancy furniture.

🝮 The black leather sinks into your weight as you sprawl across the length of the couch, resting your back against the arm.

🝮 James trails behind you, laying next to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

🝮 “Nuh uh…” you adjust, shoving him down. “None of that alpha male crap or whatever. Go to sleep.”

🝮 DG rests his head on your chest, looking up at you with watchful, dark eyes.

🝮 You play with his tufts of tamed pastel hair, smiling as he relaxes into your touch.

🝮 This is the result of years of trust stacking up. This is the result of James humbling himself and admitting he had caught feelings. You weren’t just another string attached to the whole conquering sham. You were his (Y/N).

🝮 His eyelids fluttered shut, long eyelashes resting against his soft pale cheeks. His breathing evened out, and James was officially asleep.

🝮 You smiled, leaning your head back onto the pillow. He was still just James.

🝮 You initiated it… but this wasn’t the first time.

𝐊𝐨𝐮𝐣𝐢

🝮 You never expected it to be such a mess.

🝮 Sure, you weren’t envisioning a neat, Candy-wrapper free environment that mirrored a magazine master bedroom, but still…

🝮 “Kouji… how can you live like this?”

🝮 You catch a glimpse of his cheeks flaring red.

🝮 “It’s not that messy. Don’t complain if I’m gonna be doing the actual job, otherwise I won’t do it.”

🝮 You nod to yourself, watching him flop onto his bed with his laptop.

🝮 He vaguely gestured for you to sit down, and you do so.

🝮 And then for the next hour or so, all you do is watch his purple head bounce up and down as he works his computer magic.

🝮 You: 😶

🝮 Kouji: 😪

🝮 By now the two of you have your backs to the wall. You’re actually leaning against it.

🝮 You watch wordlessly as his body slowly reclines backwards. His hands rub at his eyes more frequently.

🝮 His usual factual mutterings turn into nothing but incomprehensible gibberish

🝮 Those pudgy, mochi cheeks that drive you crazy are finally resting against your shoulder.

🝮 You try not to smirk— seeing as the arrogant genius is now out-of-his-wits and asleep on your shoulder.

🝮 And then as the two of you slide downwards, you begin to relax. After all, you and him have gotten pretty close-

🝮 Those baby-pudge cheeks make you want to melt.

🝮 Especially now that they’re on your chest—

🝮 🚨 🚨 🚨

🝮 “KOUJI WAKE UP!”

🝮 “H-Huh? What? JEEZ GET AWAY FROM ME!”

🝮 It was an accident. It was awkward. Maybe he banned you from his room? Or maybe it turned into a make-out session, who knows.

𝐕𝐢𝐧 𝐉𝐢𝐧

🝮 You don’t normally spend your weekends in his living room, surrounded by piles of snacks he doesn’t want to share.

🝮 Yet here you are.

🝮 Up until now, you and Vin haven’t hung out without Mary.

♕ Mary insisted she was sick today. And couldn't make it. 🙄

🝮 It was a load of bull. But whatever.

🝮 “Well what am I supposed to eat?” you snap.

🝮 He ignores you, but you continue: “You’re taking all the good snacks bro. I can’t survive on the crumbs- I’m growing to—”

🝮 Another obnoxious crunch.

🝮 Vin pulls his hand out of the bag, extending one measly puffy Cheeto.

🝮 “Here. Now shut up so I can focus.”

🝮 “Focus on what? Growing your overinflated ego? Just give me an actual snack.”

🝮 He has an entire hoard of chip bags surrounding him- as well as some pocky sticks and instant ramen that you know he’s hiding from you.

🝮 Vin looks up in your direction, his expression one of clear irritation.

🝮 “You aren’t even trying to write your song!” He grumbles, crunching on another Cheeto and crumbling up the now-empty bag.

🝮 You rub your temples, turning towards your music draft.

🝮 “I can’t focus with all your crunching. I need my own snack.”

🝮 “Why are you so hungry?” He asks, pencil scratching roughly on his paper.

🝮 You watch his side profile wordlessly. The seven-times-tinted sunglasses and swoop of bangs are sure to block his view…

🝮 You’re desperately hungry. Won’t someone give you something to eat~♫

🝮 You reach for the nearest back of Potato Chips, sliding the bag over to yourself as quietly as you can.

🝮 To your surprise; delight; shock; amazement; Vin doesn’t notice at all.

🝮 And then you try opening the bag-

🝮 “The hell?! You mother-“

🝮 Vin is grabbing your waist and you’re kicking at his abs.

🝮 “VinJin you jerk-!”

🝮 “(Y/N) you ass!”

🝮 “Potty-mouthed idiot-“ you roll on top of him, arms straining to hold out as you clasp hands with his larger ones.

🝮 “Snarky— perverted—” He grunts, his hands encasing yours as you two wrestle onto the couch

🝮 “You really fighting me, you coward?” You grit your teeth, kicking at his shins until he gives and falls onto the sofa.

🝮 You both pant, out of breath, until Vin flips on top of you-

🝮 “You started it!” He growls.

🝮 You refuse to look at him, especially now that you’re realizing he can be somewhat attractive…

🝮 His hands are still clasped firmly onto your own, and his brows are still knitted together angrily. “What? Are you mad at me for winning? Cmon, don’t ignore me… jeez you’re as annoying as Mary… (Y/N) come on—”

🝮 He’s about to flop his head into your chest.

🝮 You’re about to shove him into your chest to make him shut up.

🝮 His head is slammed onto your chest, and neither of you can find the words to complain.

🝮 And so it works out… and now the two of you are calming down. Actually… it’s getting a little too calm.

🝮 You open your heavy eyelids, glancing down at Vin. Sure enough, he’s asleep. And you feel the biggest urge to push him off the couch— but somehow you have the feeling that you shouldn’t ruin this moment.

🝮 Hell it was weird. You both initiated it…?!

🝮 This one is also freaking long… oopsies. Y’all got spoiled 💅

𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐮𝐞𝐥

🝮 When you’re dating someone as sadistic as Samuel, who’s alliance seems to always be jumping from one person to the next, and who’s mental stability relies heavily on how he lives up to his own standards, then you’re sure to experience the wipeout days.

🝮 The sort of days where the old person is gone, and he’s replaced by an empty shell of himself.

🝮 For Samuel- today is one of those days.

🝮 You sit on the modern lounge chair that overlooks the city below, feeling comfortable despite your usual fear of heights.

🝮 (If you aren’t afraid of heights then shut up and pretend because you are now 🤡)

🝮 Your legs are crossed, your laptop rests on your thighs, and you listen attentively to the streamer you’re watching.

🝮 Samuel stands by the window with his back to you.

🝮 Every now and then you glance up at him worriedly

🝮 He’s not normally this quiet around you… or so tame. Normally it’s a war zone of snarky and perverted remarks.

🝮 “Samuel…?”

🝮 He turns to you slightly, defined jawline taut and tempting. You see his eyebrows draw together tightly and his lips purse.

🝮 “Hmm?” he hums from deep within his throat.

🝮 “You okay? You seem kinda tense.”

🝮 He turns to you, and then you can see it.

🝮 The depressed, empty shell of your normally sharp-witted boyfriend.

🝮 You can see past his sterile gaze: a glint of short-temperedness in his eyes. The frown on your face continues to deepen.

🝮 “I’m fine. Thank you for being so thoughtful,” he smiles rigidly.

🝮 “What’s with you?” You ask as you set aside your computer, giving him the attention he deserves.

🝮 He shrugs his shoulders as he approaches your open arms, kneeling in front of you.

🝮 You slide out of the chair and sit on the floor with him. “Come on Sammy…”

🝮 And then you’re both laying on the floor, and his powerful form is suddenly vulnerable now that he’s wrapped in your arms.

🝮 You stroke his hair, combing beneath the buzz cut and into his thick roots, calming both him and yourself down.

🝮 His cheek rests on your chest, and he smirks up at you every now and then.

🝮 When he feels in the mood again, it’s sexy time and he’ll die before you find him in this position. But for now he feels comfortable… so he’s going to stay like this.

🝮 That angular face of his is pressed into your breast, and you can’t help but feel a little hot at the thought.

🝮 “Let’s just fall asleep right here.”

🝮 That’s exactly what you did.

🝮 You initiated it— since you’ve done it before. But it doesn’t happen often- so treasure his vulnerable side while you can 😩

🝮 Also I know his character design is just for sex-appeal…. But come on guys he needs more fluff content 🥺

2K notes · View notes

sailoryooons · 10 days

Note

Maybe suga x reader where they watch a scary movie together. One of them is scared and the other pretends to be scared, I don’t care who 😊 just a cute fluffy mess. Friends to crushes, they can confess or not (whatever you want to do) but I just wanna giggle and kick my feet LOL 🥺

☾ Pairing: Yoongi x gn reader

☾ Summary: Yoongi hates scary movies. He’ll never tell you that of course, content to suffer through your October scary movie marathon if it means getting to snuggle up to you on the couch.

☾ Word Count: 1,254

☾ Genre: Humor, Fluff, Mutual Crushes

☾ Rating: SFW

☾ Warnings: Mentions of being afraid of movies/clowns, Yoongi has Trauma from IT lmao, mentions of movie deaths, unconfessed feelings, a little bit of pining, really nothing else 0 this is short and sweet.

☾ Published: Sunday, September 15 2024

☾ A/N: I actually love the idea of Yoongi who is afraid of scary movies but watches them because it makes reader happy :) I hope you enjoy it!!

☾ A/N 2: There are no gendered terms or references to this reader, so I have labeled it as general neutral for the purposes of this fic.

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Main Masterlist ☾ Ask ☾ Haliween

Yoongi has never liked scary movies. He remembers the first time he saw one, having snuck into the living room when his older brother wasn’t watching to curl in the armchair, eyes fixated on the screen. He remembers the way his fear became deep rooted, eyes wide as a killer clown murdered everyone in Derry, dragging them down to the sewers.

He’s hated scary movies since then - especially ones with clowns.

Yet he can’t help but let you drag him into your annual month-long marathon of Halloween movies. Some of them aren’t so bad - your marathoning isn’t exclusive to things that terrify him and keep him staring up at the ceiling at night with the bathroom door open and lights on. Like Hocus Pocus - that was a great film and he’d slept soundly afterward.

Tonight is not going to be like that. You’ve primed him for days leading up to tonight, gushing about how Scream is your favorite and you want him to try and guess who the killer is before the big reveal. He’s not very good at guessing, but the way your eyes light up when you open your apartment door to find him with popcorn and soda in hand make it worth it.

A lot of things are worth it with you. Like going to the farmer’s market on a really busy day, or going to some pretentious coffee shop forty minutes away because their rose latte is your favorite, or being dragged to a very crowded bar to see a band that you like.

Your friendship with Yoongi shouldn’t make sense. You like bright sunny days and going outside on walks, venturing into crowded places to watch people, introducing yourself to new friends and chatting with people at the bar. Yoongi likes cold and rainy days and staying inside, keeping to himself at the few places he’s familiar with, and tucking away in a corner with his headphones.

He likes to say you adopted him as a joke, but it’s not really a joke. You have adopted him into your friends circle, bringing the quiet boy from your freshman algebra class into the fold. Years later, you still greet him with the same oozing excitement as the first time you introduced yourself, bursting at the seams with kindness.

“You didn’t cheat and look up anything, right?” you demand, suddenly serious as you sit down on your couch and fold your legs. He smirks and shakes his head, brushing the dark hair out of his eyes as he sits in the middle. “Good. You need to make honest guesses.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know the rules.”

Your grin is blinding and for a second, the world is nothing but the beat of Yoongi’s thundering heart and your smile. He blinks and shakes it off, watching you from the corner of his eye as you settle into the blankets, throwing the corner toward him to keep him warm.

Tentatively, he pulls the covers over his knees as he pulls them up onto the couch. The blankets are from your bed so they smell like you, vanilla and cinnamon. Hitting the lights on the back of the couch, you douse your apartment into darkness as the TV flickers to life, opening up the movie’s beginning.

Yoongi’s heart is already pounding. Both at how close you are and at the anticipation for what’s going to come on screen. Slasher movies aren’t his favorite, a little too realistic for him to comfortably watch them.

Still, he watches with muted interest as Casey answers an old school phone, leaning on a counter while the world’s most unsettling voice talks to her through the receiver.

“That voice would freak me out,” Yoongi admits. “What’s that one we watched with the you’re gonna die in seven days?”

“The Ring.”

“Yeah. People need to stop answering phones.”

“You gonna stop answering my phone calls?”

He pouts. “No.”

Your laugh is like tinkling silver. He grins, pleased as you lean toward him, shifting so that your arms are pressed together and your head is resting on his shoulder. He lets you snuggle him despite the fact that for the next five minutes, he can barely follow what’s happening on screen because his heart is slamming and his thoughts are dizzy.

Yoongi has no idea if you know how he feels. He doesn’t think you do - there’s no way you’d cuddle up to him and make him flustered and confused if you did. You’re not the kind of person to lead him on, which leaves him stranded in a sea of do you or don’t you like him.

It’s a puzzle he keeps trying to solve himself without asking you, which has resulted in zero solves or answers.

Yoongi flinches the first time Ghostface comes on screen, mouth tilting downward. You peer up at him, eyes wide. The TV light reflects in your eyes as you watch him, a question in your gaze. He clears his throat. “Caught me off guard.”

“Uh huh.”

Yoongi feels his heart race when Casey begins running across the field on screen. He can almost imagine what it must be like to run for your life, chased by some crazy person in a mask and -

The movie pauses. He blinks and looks at where you’re watching him, smirking. “What? He asks, eyes wide. “Why’d you pause it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you don’t like scary movies?”

“What makes you think that?”

“Yoongi, you’re squeezing my thigh.”

He becomes hyper aware that his hand is on your thigh, squeezing tightly as his anxiety increases. He feels warmth spread up his neck and he lets you go, turning away to hide the way his ears and cheeks turn red. You giggle and he squirms under the embarrassment, looking anywhere but you.

“Come on,” you urge. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You like scary movies.”

“So?”

“So,” he emphasizes, pouting. He won’t look at you, suddenly interested in his nail beds as you continue to stare at him. It’s dark in your apartment and you still sit close to him, thigh pressed against his. “I enjoy doing what you enjoy.”

“We can watch something else.”

He shakes his head. “Really, it’s okay. I want to find out who the killer is.”

You chew on your lower lip, the silence heavy for a minute. “Would it help if I held your hand?” His eyes shoot up to look at you, checking if you’re serious. It seems you are, all the humor vanishing from your face as you stare at him with an earnest expression. “Only if you want to.”

“Maybe.”

Your lips twitch in a smile. “What if I told you it would help me if we held hands?”

“Then definitely.”

When you smile, Yoongi knows you’re onto him. He feels his stomach flip when you lean in close, the smell of vanilla and cinnamon making his head swim as you press a chaste kiss to his cheek. He feels warm all over, fingers and toes buzzing as you settle back into the couch much closer to him.

He stretches his hand toward you and you link your fingers with his. He grins at the warmth of your palms and the way you tug your laced fingers into your lap, leaning into his shoulder again. Hiding his smile, he relaxes into the back of the couch, ready to take on any scary movie in the world if it means having whatever this is with you.

“Press play,” he urges, leaning his head on yours. “I can definitely do this now.”

TAG LIST

@wobblewobble822 @idkjustlovingbts @teddytae @veronawrites

@bts-ruu @tumeperds @ashtonkeller @ivyrosewater @secfir

@hoseokshobagi @warren-thedarkangel @poptartsandpopstars @itsmina29

@valhallawhispers @yoongiofmine @sumzysworld @vanishingboots

@astroodledream @myynameisbuckyy

If you don't see your tag here, Tumblr would not let me tag you.

#min yoongi #min yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #min yoongi x you #domestic yoongi #suga bts #bts fanfic #suga fanfic #suga x you #haliween

122 notes · View notes

queenshelby · 1 year

Text

Chemical Reactions (P. 5)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy as J Robert Oppenheimer x Student Reader

Warning: Mild Smut, Age-Gap, Infidelity

Words: 2,406

Note: The fic is spoiler free and my own fantasy and imagination. It is not historically and scientifically accurate.

Previous Parts: 1; 2; 3; 4

It was six o’clock on Sunday evening and, just as discussed with your professor a few days ago when he startled you inside the chemistry lab, you were waiting for him to arrive at the Chevalier residence.

Haakon Chevalier and his wife were away for the weekend and you did not expect them to return until tomorrow which is why you believed the timing for your mentoring session to be just perfect. Unlike usual, you made an effort tonight, just in case your professor wanted to stay and explore more than just quantum physics and the collapse of stars and supernovas, which was something that was of particular interest to you when it came to your thesis. You wanted to expand on J Robert Oppenheimer’s very own theory and this was exactly why he became your mentor.

Yet, you wanted him to be more than just that as, at least to you, J Robert Oppenheimer was the most handsome man you had ever seen with his dark hair and his blue eyes, full lips and sharp cheekbones. J Robert Oppenheimer was mature and incredibly intelligent and it was his intellect that turned you on the most. He was smarter than anyone else you had ever met before and you felt as though he understood your intellectual needs and desires just perfectly.

Thus, you stiffened in your chair just by thinking of him and his impending arrival at the Chevalier residence. A mix of dread and desire washed over you and, eventually, you stood up and smoothed down your dress and walked to the bathroom.

You flipped on the light and looked in the mirror before fingering your hair. Your eyes were big and dark, dark lashes curled up with a subtle shimmer painted across your eyelids, matching the simple black dress you were wearing.

It made you look older and more mature and you hoped that Dr Oppenheimer would appreciate it, seeing that you looked elegant but not inappropriately suggestive.

When you were done looking yourself over, you walked downstairs again like a nervous chicken, carrying a few physics books in your hands which you knew you would need in order to discuss your very own theory with him.

You knew that you had to be prepared and prepared you were when, finally, you heard a knock on the door.

“Dr Oppenheimer, please come in” you said after, without wearing any shoes or stockings, you tippy toed towards the door.

“I can see that you have already prepared your paperwork, so we shall get started right away, yes?” Dr Oppenheimer asked, skipping any kind of small talk and cutting straight to the point.

“Yes, perhaps we should, although I was going to offer you a drink first as, no doubt, you had a rather busy and demanding week” you suggested while looking at him and his deep blue eyes which, so seemingly, followed you as you walked across the room barefooted.

“I suppose I could have one drink” Dr Oppenheimer said, falling into your gaze for a short moment, before you forced yourself to look away. You tried hard to take him all in as he took off his hat and suit jacket, but you simply could not. It was way too difficult for you to do so without blushing.

“Wine or gin?” you then asked, although you already knew the answer and had the gin bottle opened before he could respond.

“Gin, please” he confirmed before he dropped his books on to the coffee table as well and sat down on one of the rather soft and comfortable armchairs.

“Alright, gin it is” you said while pouring two glasses and later carrying them over towards where he was sitting before throwing one of the larger pillows onto the rug beneath your feet and kneeling on top of it.

“Should I join you down there?” Dr Oppenheimer then asked with amusement, seeing that you chose to sit on a pillow on the floor rather than on the large sofa behind you.

“If you like. It’s just a silly habit of mine” you pointed out as you opened one of the books that you had placed on top of the large coffee table earlier that night.

“Alright. I suppose the comfort of upholstery is highly overrated” Dr Oppenheimer responded sarcastically before slipping off his shoes, throwing another pillow onto the floor and joining you by sitting down right by your side.

“It sure is, professor” you chuckled before showing him the sheets that you had prepared and, just as you gave him your workbook, your hands touched briefly, resulting yet in another tingle on your skin.

"Well, let's figure out where you are at and what we need to work on” Dr Oppenheimer told you while taking a pen from the stash of pens you had left on the table and reading through your calculations which, in his mind, appeared to be incomplete.

“Miss Y/LN, you seem to have omitted a few steps in your calculations” he then pointed out and, when you looked at your papers again, you realised that he was right. An entire sheet was missing and you did not know where you had put it.

“I am so sorry. I did write it all out but I must have left some of my notes at the lab last night when I was working with the reactor” you admitted with great embarrassment, causing Dr Oppenheimer to furrow his eyebrows and make a somewhat terrible suggestion.

“Can you replicate your calculations?” he asked and, by this point, panic had sat in.

“From memory?” you asked and when Dr Oppenheimer nodded, you nodded as well, telling him that you would try.

Unfortunatly for you though, as soon as you put pen to paper, you were lost. You were so completely lost that, by that time, you had forgotten that Dr Oppenheimer was even sitting there watching you and then you jumped when he touched the small of your back and told you to stop what you were doing.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you..." he said while pointing at the problem you were facing and, just as he did, you locked eyes and you could not look away. It was as though he was peering into your soul, searching out your deepest secrets and desires. His pupils expanded as his iris contracted. The colours shifted through a spectrum of greys and blues and you were absolutely lost in his eyes.

“I can show you my calculations upstairs, in my bedroom. I did them before starting the experiment. The experiment confirmed some of my theory and the calculations I did earlier this week, except for formula three. Formula three changed and I can replicate this change. Come. I will show you” you then said suddenly and a little too abruptly after snapping out of your trance and your words startled Dr Oppenheimer as well.

"You want me to come upstairs, to your bedroom?” he asked somewhat surprised while furrowing his eyebrows again and you nodded.

“Yes. Come on” you said while noticing that his eyes were wandering to your breasts as you stood up and, just as they did, his chest flexed, either involuntarily or on purpose.

“Mhhm” Dr Oppenheimer then simply said, clearing his throat before standing up and following you upstairs, to your bedroom.

***

Seconds later, you reached your bedroom and when Dr Oppenheimer saw the large chalk board across from your bed, he was rather surprised.

In fact, he was surprised by the entirety of your bedroom which consisted of a small bed, three overfilled bookshelves, a small closet, and an oversized chalkboard, containing calculations on dark matter.

“This is one hell of a chalkboard” Dr Oppenheimer thus teased and you could not help but break out in laughter, seeing how awkward this was, standing in your bedroom with your professor.

“I only just realised how inappropriate it was for me to ask you to come to my bedroom. I am so sorry” you acknowledged while he stood there, totally engulfed by his own thoughts of stars exploding.

“Uh huh” he simply murmured while taking in what you are suggesting just as you amended formula three, replicating what you saw during your experiments in the lab.

“What you are suggesting is not the collapse of a star. It is the explosion of a star. There would have to be an ejection of most of its mass which is something that has to be visible” Dr Oppenheimer then said with his velvet smooth voice as he looked you right in the eyes.

“Yes, it would be visible, from space, but not necessarily from here. It depends entirely on the location of the star” you responded with some nervousness in your voice which is when Robert shifted closer towards you and you could feel the heat from his body beside you.

It was purely intoxicating and, if you were to lean in right now, you would have been able to kiss him. But, you only let that thought simmer for a moment before pushing it away, afraid to make the move which you wanted him to make so desperately.

“This hypothesis would change how we think about nuclear transformation” Robert eventually said and your cheeks became flushed as you tried to deflect on his statement, but your brain did not think so you blurted out a slightly whispered "maybe"..

“Maybe?” Robert chuckled. His smile grew big and his eyes began to search you, causing you to gulp.

“You should be more confident with your answer Miss Y/LN” Robert then said before leaning in slightly and bringing his hands up to gently touch your face.

“You are smart and intelligent. Your calculations seem to be correct and logical and your conclusions are impressive. Now you just have to prove your theory” Robert told you with a sense of affection and awe in his voice, to which you simply nodded again, unable to form words under the attraction that you were feeling towards this god-like man right now.

“You impressed me Y/N” Robert then pointed out, for the first time using your first name, as he moved one of his fingers to your lips, tracing an outline of them.

You gasped in response to his gentle touch while your body was vibrating for him. Your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest and you could hear the whooshing of blood as your body radiated from his touch.

“May I kiss you?” he then asked somewhat reluctantly himself as he leaned his face towards yours until his lips were almost touching your lips.

“Yes, please do” you gasped as you stopped breathing before, suddenly, you felt the anticipation of a teenage girl waiting for her crush to kiss her at a school dance.

Following your approval, Robert closed the gap between you, touching his lips to yours. He was slow at first, but then you become enveloped with passion and your hands reached for his hair and your tongue pushed through the barrier of his lips and reached its destination.

Your tongues became encompassed with a passionate dance and you moaned against his lips while slowly, but surely, losing control. Robert’s hands began to move from your face down to your arms, moving lower and lower until they were resting on your thighs as you were still locked in this passionate dance of mouths, only ever pausing to breathe.

Robert was a sensational kisser and just as he circled his tongue around yours his hands started moving up your thighs again slightly. Your body responded by begging them to move faster and then, all so suddenly, an unfamiliar heat began to form in your lower regions.

With that, you started to move a little and your hands became bolder and bolder as you continued to envelop each other mouths. You ran yours hands down Robert’s chest, teasing the fabric of his shirt before, finally, your hands moved lower as your fingers caught the edge of where his shirt met his belt.

You then started undoing one button after another, moving upwards one by one, praying that he would not resist and, sure enough, resistance was the last thing on Robert’s mind right now.

Eventually, while still kissing each other, you completed your task and his heat poured out as soon as the white fabric dropped to the floor, revealing his slim but incredible physique. You then began to touch him, running your hands down his chest and through the small patch of hair on his chest before feeling the taut muscle under your fingers.

As you were touching Robert gently, he moaned against your lips while, all at the same time, his fingers moved up until they were resting at the back of your dress, which is where Robert found the very top of your zipper.

As he slowly unzipped your dress, you began to moan louder, almost begging for him to touch you which is when slipped his fingers beneath the fabric and you gently pushed your garment down until your dress was caught by the outline of your hips.

This when you opened your eyes, breaking your kiss momentarily.

“I should let you know that I have not done this before” you stammered huskily against his lips as his hands caressed the skin now exposed on your back.

“What do you mean?” Robert asked as he held you close, never letting go of his embrace.

“I have not slept with anyone yet. Not with a man anyway. It just never eventuated” you admitted, causing Robert to clear his throat and withdraw.

“Then perhaps we should stop this right here. I am not the man for you” he pointed out and you reached for his hands, holding them in yours before bringing them back to your half-naked body.

“Why?” you asked huskily, wanting to continue you where you had left of.

“Because I will not be able to give you what you want” Robert determined but you shook your head and sighed.

“I haven’t told you what I want, so do you just presume to know?” you asked while rolling your eyes.

“I am married and I am not going to leave my wife” Robert said before withdrawing again and, for a brief moment, you stepped away from him and leaned back against the chalkboard with yet another sigh escaping your lips.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

Tag List

@fastfan

@elenavampire21

@dolllol2405

@allie131313

@cilliansangel

@coldbastille

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@cdej6

@kathrinemelissa

@landlockedmermaid77

@crazymar15

@damedomino

@lauren-raines-x

@miss-bunny19

@skinny-bitch-juice

@odorinana

@cloudofdisney

@weepingstudentfishhorse

@allexiiisss

@geminiwolves

@letsstarsfalling

@ysmmsy

@chlorrox

@tommyshelbypb

@chocolatehalo

@music-lover911

@desperate-and-broken

@mysticaldeanvoidhorse

@peaky-cillian

@lelestrangerandunusualdeetz

@december16-1991

@captivatedbycillianmurphy

@romanogersendgame

@randomfangirl2718

@missymurphy1985

@peakyscillian

@lilymurphy03

@deefigs

@theflamecrystal

@livinginfantaxy

@rosey1981

@hanster1998

@fairypitou

@zozeebo

@kasaikawa

@littleweirdoalien

@sad-huffle-nerd

@theflamecrystal

@0ghostwriter0

@stylescanbeatmyback

@1-800-peakyblinders

@datewithgianni

@momoneymolife

@mcntsee

@janelongxox

@basiclassy

@being-worthy

@chaotic-bean-of-smolness

@margoo0

@vhscillian

@crazymar15

@im-constantly-fangirling

@namelesslosers

@littlewhiterose

@ttzamara

@cilleveryone

@peaky-cillian

@severewobblerlightdragon

@dolllol2405

@pkab

@babaohhhriley

@littleweirdoalien

@alreadybroken-ts

@masteroperator

@stevie75

@shabzy96

@rainbow12346

@obsessedwithfandomsx

@geeksareunique

@laysalespoir

@paigem00

@lkarls

@vamp-army

@luckystarme

@myjumper

@gxorg

@eline-1806

@goldenharrysworld

@cristinagronk16

@stylesofloki

@faatxma

@slut-for-matt-murdock

@tpwkstiles

@myjumper

@cloudofdisney

@look-at-the-soul

@smellyzcat

@kittycatcait219

@theliterarybeldam

@being-worthy

@layazul

@lyn07

@kagilmore

@50svibes

@mainstreetlilly

@ourthatgirlabby

@bitchwhytho

@takethee

@registerednursejackie

@sofi128

@mrkdvidal1989

@minxsblog

@heidimoreton

@laylasbunbunny

@queenshelby

@camilleholland89

@forgottenpeakywriter

@vintagecherryt

@indierockgirrl

@mrkdvidal1989

@bluesongbird

@dudde-44

@gasolinesavages

@kissforvoid

@bluebird592

@1eugenia1isabella1

@esposadomdp

@lulunalua23

@lovelace42

@bookklover23

@iwantmyredvelvetcupcake

@moonmaiden1996

@marlenamallowan

@cyphah (cannot tag)

@majesticcmey

@cleverzonkwombatsludge

@throughgoeshamilton

@alessioayla

@elenavampire21

@justforfiction

@cilliansangel

@alannielaraye

@satellitelh

@pandoramyst

@duckybird101

@snixx2088

@kylianswag

@alessioayla

@pono-pura-vida

@iraisbored69

@howling-wolf97

@aesthetic0cherryblossom

@weirdo-rules

@lovemissyhoneybee

@dazaiscum

@esposadomd

@etherealkistar

@ur--mommy

@throughgoeshamilton

@celverzonkwombatsludge

@cyphah

@atomicsouldcollecto

@heidimoreton

@nela-cutie

@futurecorps3

@delishen

@nosebleeds-247

@thirteenis-myluckynumber

@gills-lounge

@hjmalmed

@lost-fantasy

@tiredkitten

@sidechrisporn

@smallsoulunknown

@charqing-qing

@hopefulinlove

@aporiasposts

@shycrybaby

@me-and-your-husband

@hjmalmed

@lacontroller1991

@galxydefender

@aporiasposts

@multifans-things

@galxydefender

@hunnibearrr

@saint-ackerman

@raineeace

@lunyyx

@gentlemonsterjennie1

@littlewolfiieposts

@ihavealotoffandomssorry

@tn22220-blog

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #Oppenheimer #oppenheimer x reader #j robert oppenheimer #j robert oppenheimer x reader #oppenheimer x you #j robert oppenheimer x you #oppenheimer x y/n #robert oppenheimer #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n

861 notes · View notes

ahgasegotarmy116 · 7 months

Text

Your Eyes Tell | Jeon Jungkook One Shot

Paring: f!reader x Jungkook (established relationship) Word Count: 4k~ Warnings: Angsttttttt and explicit/suggestive language (a little) a/n: This is kind of like a anti Valentine's Day thingy but it's literally so late and I'm posting it on Hobi's bday (in the US) Happy Hobi day tho 🥺💜 hope you guys enjoy the angst cuz the ending broke me 😭

Walking up to our apartment I knock on the door and instead of my normal lighthearted knocks I settle on the customary three. It was the beginning of the end for us...

I hear the soft patter of your feet walking to the door and when you open it instead of being met with your smile I'm left with an almost blank expression, telling me that you're trying to hold back all of those things we had left unsaid.

"Can I come in?" I ask tentatively, leaving you hesitant for a moment before letting out a deep sigh and opening it wide enough to let me in. "Would you like something to drink?" you ask on ceremony, leaving me awkward from being treated as a guest in the home we share together.

"Just water, thank you" I accept, knowing I'll need some as I feel all the moisture in my mouth disappear in anticipation for this uncomfortable conversation.

You bring me a glass of water before sitting down on the armchair that sits next to the couch I'm on, a strategic move to cut yourself off from me from the beginning.

"So?" you ask expectantly, waiting for a clue as to why I'm here right now. "I wanted to apologize for, well everything that happened and everything that I did wrong that night" I start off and I hear you scoff at it, having taken my tentative tone for insincerity right off the bat.

"Can you please just, just let me say what I need to say and if you have nothing left to say to me then I'll go" I plead and you shift your weight a bit then sit motionless, wordlessly inviting me to continue.

"That whole night was a mistake. It shouldn't have happened. She wasn't supposed to be here" I say, bringing up the events of that night. The night that took away the one person I loved the most, that I love...

~~~~~~

The day before Valentine's Day started out just like any other day. Having my beautiful girlfriend sleeping peacefully next to me with the warm rays of sunlight shining down on us.

I luckily woke up before our alarm so I have a chance to be her not so rude awakening. I chose to turn on my side to face her body and pull her up against mine, her back now pressed against my chest making everything feel perfect.

"Jungkook?" she mumbles, still half asleep. "It's okay it's still early, I just wanted to hold you" I say, nuzzling my face into the crook of her neck. She hums in delight and rests her arm on top of the one I have wrapped around her waist and drifts back to sleep for those few extra minutes.

It started off just like any other day...

Our Valentine's Day plans were something that I had been planning for weeks and I wanted it to be just right. It would start off with an intimate night in on the night before Valentine's Day that would lead into a weekend get away in the mountains. Something we've always loved to do together.

As I was putting the finishing touches on the dinner I had made I make sure everything else is set. I had spent the whole day cleaning the house, washing and putting away laundry, making dinner and creating a romantic atmosphere in our bedroom.

Yes with the cheesy red rose petals and candles but I always knew you were a sucker for it anyway.

Everything was perfect. Perfect up until the point when she showed up.

I don't even know how she managed to find us but she did. My ex from years ago, always managing to pop up at the worst time, and she knows it.

I look down at my watch before opening the door, confused when I hear a knock a lot earlier than I had suspected you would be here but my face falls once I see who it really is.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I question through my clenched teeth, grinding them as a way to prohibit me from blowing up on her. It never works anyway. I could scream, threaten and cuss her out but she would never get hurt by any of my words no matter how hard I threw them at her.

"Nice to see you too Bunny" she says trying to take a peek over my shoulder. "She's not home is she?" she asks, clearly making sure I'm alone so she can toy with me in peace. "Doesn't matter because either way you're not welcome here" I spit out but before I even have a chance to react she's slipped under my arm and has made her way inside.

"Oh you don't mean that" she says, taking off her ridiculously high heels and almost falling on her face while doing so. It's a pity she didn't fall, she probably would've been happy to have a reason to get another hideous nose job.

"Yes I do now get the fuck out of my house" I raise my voice, hoping that it'll get her attention but alas my effort has been for naught. She wanders around the place and touches absolutely everything and even has the audacity to cringe at a picture of you and I and places the little frame face down on the mantle it sits on.

"How did you even find me?" I say as I watch you invade not only mine but your privacy but I know I need to reason with her before push comes to shove and I have to call the cops on her...again.

"I have my ways" she says, walking up to the table where I have our favorite bottle of wine with two glasses and she expertly opens the bottle before I can stop her and takes the liberty of pouring herself a glass.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I question as she takes a big gulp and fills her glass up again after she's decided it's to her liking. "Setting up for Valentine's Day? Isn't it a little too early?" she questions, ignoring me and knocking over the little bear I got you making me clench my hands into fists.

"Not that it's any of your business but we're leaving for the weekend so this is all an early surprise for her" I say, crossing my arms as I continue to restrain myself from picking her up and throwing her out myself. "Oh wow, she's a lucky girl. Where are you two going?" she questions as if I would ever tell her.

"I bet you're taking her up to your parent's cabin huh? The one we used to go to" she prods, hitting it right on the money and me giving up the answer with a clench of my jaw. "You're so predictable Bunny. A creature of habit one might say" she says while dragging her hand along my still crossed arms and making her way down the hall and into our bedroom.

"Oh how adorable, looks like you put a lot of work into this didn't you?" she says while picking up one of the intact roses on the center of the bed. "Don't touch anything" I say, following after her but my words have no effect as she picks up the lighter and starts lighting the candles.

"Don't!" I order and at that she places the lighter down but presses play on the speaker, our playlist already pulled up to set the mood. "Remember when you used to do stuff like this for me? We used to be so happy together" she says as she stalks over to me, feigning innocence as if she wasn't the reason we broke up.

"You were happy spending my money and I was stupid enough to think that you might've loved me too" I say through gritted teeth, my mouth sore from the constant state it's been in since she got here. "I did love you Bunny, I still love you. Why else would still I be here?" she asks while batting her ridiculously big eyelashes at me.

"Because you're fucking materialistic and you keep on trying to get me to take you back so you can drain my bank account like you did last time" I say, cocking a brow at her. "That's not the only reason. I really miss your cock too" she says, somehow having gotten close enough to palm me through my slacks.

I push her off immediately, feeling disgusted and violated but before I'm able to think straight again she's grabbed a hold of my dress shirt and 'loses her balance' pulling me down onto the bed on top of her.

"Sorry Bunny" she says as if she's was a child apologizing with the biggest puppy dog eyes that I've grown to hate. The ones that scream 'Can I borrow your credit card or fuck me please' among her other stupid phases she used to use on me.

"Get the fuck off of me" I say trying to push off of the bed but she pulls me back on top of her, making me actually lose my balance. As soon as she notices the sound of your keys jingling at the front door she grips onto my neck and smashes her lips against mine, not leaving me any room for protest.

"Jungkook, where are you?" you call out, unsuspecting and walking in our apartment and seeing the effort I had gone through on the surface but having our intimate space violated by the person I hate the most in this world.

"Baby what's all thi-" you say through a smile but are caught off guard by seeing what I know is me struggling to get off of my ex and with her pulling me back down. Although I'm sure you see it as the rudest awakening ever.

"What the fuck?" you say in a monotone and it's only then that she let's me go. "Baby this isn't what yo-" "Oh y/n, hi. Um this is awkward. You said she wasn't going to be home until later" my ex directs at me while getting up and straightening out her clothes and hair, disgusting me at the knowledge that I contributed to her state against my will.

"What the fuck is going on here?" You say in a stronger tone and at that my ex scurries out, avoiding any backlash from you. "Bye Bunny" she chimes before she closes the door behind her.

"Baby please let me explain I-" "What the hell was she doing here?" you say through gritted teeth, a habit I'm just now realizing you have picked up from me. "I don't know. She showed up here and barged in and started touching everything and-" "Well why did you let her in? How did you both end up in here?" you ask as you take a good look around the bedroom.

"She came back here before I could stop her. I tried to tell her to leave but she wouldn't listen" I say, trying to plead my case but I know it's a weak defense. "Why are there candles lit? Why is our playlist playing? Why is there a glass of wine and roses in here? Jungkook what the fuck is going on?" you list off making me realize how the cards are stacked against me.

"Please just let me explain okay? Let's just go back out there and talk over dinner" I say trying to usher her out of the room. "Don't. Touch. Me." you say, emphasizing each word before stalking out of the room with me following behind you and running my fingers through my once styled and now messy hair thanks to my fucking ex.

I find you moments later sitting on the couch and doing the same as me, running your fingers through your hair and see again it's a habit we seem to share.

"Talk" you say coldly and I sit down on the armchair while you sit on the couch. "Can't we talk over dinner? I ma-" "I'm not hungry. So talk or I'm leaving" you say and that's enough to get me to shut down that idea.

"I already told you she barged in here and started touching everything and nothing that I did could stop her" I say because that's exactly what happened but I can tell that's not gonna work for you.

"Why were you on the bed kissing her? What was up with the candles and the music?" you say pressing for more answers that you certainly have a right to.

"Again she was touching things and grabbed the lighter and lit the candles and pressed play on the speaker. It was all a blur and I couldn't really process it because next thing I know it she's coming onto me and she touched me, like she touched my dick and it caught me off guard and I shoved her off of me and she pulled me down onto the bed on top of her and I tried to get off of her right away but as soon as she heard you walking in the door she started kissing me" I list off in one breath, giving you as much information as I can so you know every little detail.

"I need to go" you say standing up and heading into our bedroom with me right on your heels. "Where are you going?" I panic, watching you as you throw some clothes in a bag. "Away" you say giving me little to no information. "Baby please let's work through this. I'm sorry I should've shut the door right in her face when I saw it was her" I admit.

"Then why didn't you huh? You shouldn't have let her step foot in here. We moved so we could get away from that psycho and now she's back? No I can't do this right now I need to go" you say, zipping up the bag and grabbing your purse and keys.

"Y/n please don't leave" I say grabbing your wrist, my eyes turned down in fear of you seeing how broken I am at the thought of you leaving me. "Please, just stay with me" I plead in a hushed tone but I know no matter how much begging and pleading I do you've already made up your mind.

"Goodbye Jungkook" you say, ripping your wrist out of my grasp, stuffing your feet in your shoes, opening the door and slamming it behind you, not giving a damn about the neighbors.

I walk over to the door you just went through, our front door. The one that we're supposed to come through and be happy together, not be rushing to leave each other. Pressing my head up against the wood with my right hand balled up into a fist again I bang on it a few times before letting a few tears fall.

Angry? Sad? Confused? Heartbroken? I don't know if any or all of them are the cause of these tears but I know that this is something that's going to be hard for us to come back from.

I get a text the next morning, with me not having slept a wink I jump at the notification and rush to open it when I see that it's you.

'I need you to pack up some stuff and leave for a few days. I need the house and I need a place to think. We can talk about this later. Please just give me some space' is the short and simple text I get from you and an immediate pit settles in my stomach that I know won't go away until we talk this through.

I respond with a simple 'Okay' and take some time to pack a bag and text a friend to see if I can stay. Luckily they oblige and tell me I can stay as long as I want.

However kind that offer might be I really hope I won't be needing to stay that long.

~~~~~~

A day turns into days and days turn into weeks until I finally get fed up and head over to our place. Well...hopefully still our place.

That's how we've ended up here...

"Jungkook this is exactly what you told me the last time" you say, pinching the bridge of your nose, a habit you seemed to have developed recently. "There's really nothing more to tell. I would never do anything to hurt you y/n..." I say trailing off and trying to reach for your hand but you pull away before I can even reach you so I sit back into my seat and keep my distance.

"Letting her in hurt me. Letting her come in and drink our favorite wine out of our wine glasses hurt me. Having her put our pictures face down all over the house hurt me. Having her fucking smell all over our sheets hurt me. Seeing her fucking lipstick stain that I had to scrub out of them hurt me. Seeing her in our fucking bed with you on top of her ripped my heart to shreds. The fact that you couldn't stop her from doing any of these things broke me" you list off and I know that I did let her do all of that. I didn't want her to, but I let it happen anyway.

"I would've stopped her but-" "But what? You couldn't because you're scared of her? Or is it because you're still in love with her?" you throw at me and that's the last straw. "You know I don't why the fuck would I ever love someone like her?" I raise my voice not even believing you could possibly think that I still love her.

"You don't have a backbone when it comes to her and you know it! You let her walk all over you during your relationship and you're letting her fucking ruin ours. No matter what we do we're never going to get rid of her" you say, standing up to make yourself seem bigger and I stand up as well, not for the same purpose but in hopes to get closer to you.

"We can figure this out" I say bringing my voice back down, knowing that a louder voice won't fix anything or make you hear me out any better. "We've been trying to figure this out for the last three fucking years Jungkook. Three. We've moved twice just to get rid of her but she always finds us and she's never going to stop no matter how hard we try. I'm sorry but I can't keep doing this" You say walking into our bedroom to get away from me but I follow you just as I did before you left.

"I know you don't mean that..." I trail off but the thing is is that I don't know, from the way you're acting now I can't tell and that scares me.

"Really? You don't think I mean it? Fine. You can have the apartment because I'm moving out" you say and I widen my eyes and know for a fact that there's no way I can fix things right now. "Don't leave, you can have the place. I'll go" I say hurriedly and walk back to the living room to try and process things and you follow right behind me.

"And take the chance that she'll keep coming around here just to see if she can get a glimpse of you? No way. Neither of you are going to know where I live unless I tell you myself. I'm done. We're done" you say motioning between the two of us.

"There's nothing I can do to fix this is there?" I ask with my head hung low and although I know the answer I still torture myself with hearing the words from your lips.

I look up when I don't get an answer right away and that somehow gives me hope, thinking that you're taking time to think it over but I'm met with that same blank stare that I was greeted with at the door. This time with no words left unsaid.

"No, there's not" and even without those three words uttered from your lips...

Your eyes tell me everything I need to know.

Your eyes, the ones that I used to get lost in. Your eyes that would shine when I made you laugh. Your eyes that would cry at the smallest of things. Your eyes, the ones that used to tell me that you would love me forever are void of any emotion. All the love and all the joy gone, even less than a distant memory and I can't bring myself to look at them anymore.

I turn away to hide my eyes. To hide how much my heart is breaking because showing you my tears will do no good. My eyes that still shine when I lay my eyes on you. My eyes that are still fascinated by every move you make.

My eyes that are screaming out how much I love you and begging you to love me too.

I hear noises behind me telling me you're gathering your things up and I wipe away the tears that had started to fall when I hear the bedroom door close and your footsteps make their way down the hall.

"I'll send someone over to grab the rest of my things later" you say while taking inventory of the room around us, making sure you have everything for the time being. "I'll text you when they're gonna come over so if you could help them out by gathering some of it up beforehand I would appreciate it" you request.

"Yes, of course. Anything you need" I say in agreement, wanting to help you although my heart is screaming at me to get down on my knees and beg you to take me back. I save both of us the drama of that whole scene because I know your mind is made up and again, no one can convince you to change it once you're at that point.

You walk over to me and place your hand on my neck to pull my face down like you had time and time again when you kissed me and I know that however much I want to melt into it and pretend like everything was just a bad dream I know that this kiss is full of sorrow.

This is probably the cruelest thing you could've ever done to me but I deepen the kiss regardless and pull you in by your waist, holding you as tight as I can because I know that this will be the last time yet somehow hoping that with this one kiss I could convince you to stay. Before it can lead to something else you break the kiss and lean your forehead against mine, our breath intermingling and keeping us lost in each other one last time.

"Goodbye Jungkook" are your final words to me before you place your hands on my arms in a silent plea to release you and although it breaks me I do as you wish. I know this moment will haunt me and I know I will hate myself for not saying anything back but I can't bring myself to respond.

I let my head hang and the last thing I'm left with is the sound of you placing your keys on the table before you walk out the door. Closing the chapter that I thought was going to last forever.

Walking over and slumping down onto the couch I pull out the thing that I had forgotten was in my back pocket, no doubt having damaged the box a bit and I toss it onto the coffee table, a reminder of the question I never got to ask you...

Taglist: @jkslipppiercing @trina864 @kaitieskidmore97 @goddesofimortality @coolbluedude @00frenchfries00 @bangtans-momma @coralmusicblaze @pastelpinkjoon @joonwater @marvelbun @j3nni-rs @evidive @beomieboi @forevrglow @jesssssmaybankk @teugiie @chaconnelatte @whoa-jo @snehal @xumyboo @mindurbuzznezz @diorh0seokie

Join my Taglist!

Feel free to fill out the form or just comment on any of my fics to be added :)

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #kpop #fanfic #fanfiction #bts #kpop fanfic #jungkook bts #jungkook x reader #jungkook and reader #jungkook and you #jungkook angst #bts jeon jungkook #bts fanfic #bts jk

190 notes · View notes

little-miss-dilf-lover · 2 years

Text

ruin you

thank you @mattymurdock1021 for this request. I loved writing it and hope it doesn’t disappoint💌

pairing // mattmurdock x fem!reader

wc // 1.4k

warnings // 18+ only. smut. rough p in v sex, praise and degradation kink, climax denial, pet names, hair pulling, dirty talk. established relationship. no use of y/n. minors DNI

masterlist + rules

taglist

You were standing in the moonlit bedroom with your satin nightgown on, squeezing out the excess water from your freshly washed hair. Using your feet to swipe away the droplets that fell onto the floor, hoping that it’ll be enough to dry it. Finishing your night routine, feeling slightly parched and dehydrated from your hot shower. Making your way over to the sliding bedroom door to get some water from the kitchen.

Heaving the large door to the side, your body completely stiffened once you saw Matt slouched on the armchair in nothing but his boxers. You didn’t even hear him come home from his nightly patrols- you felt slightly disappointed as you usually greet him the second he comes home.

Smiling as you walked over to him, tenderly kissing his temple, brushing your fingers over his shoulders as you walked past him towards the kitchen. Stopping and turning around as he didn’t have any reaction. “Hey? Are you okay?” You ask sounding concerned.

“Mhmm.” You hear him groggily reply from across the room.

Picking out two cold water bottles from the fridge before making your way back over to the living room. “You don’t seem okay” passing him a bottle of water before sitting on the coffee table in front of him.

Taking a few sips from the bottle, looking around the room to see his suit and helmet disregarded on the floor- almost as if they have been thrown. “You can talk to me, Matt.” You said, virtually in a whisper.

“Had a crap day- just really stressful.” He admits as his head drops to the side in defeat.

Circling your fingers on his knees “want me to make it better?” You sweetly ask. Wanting to assess the situation- whether he wanted to talk it over or forget about it completely.

His eyes darken slightly and the corners of his lips turn up into a wry smirk.

“I take that as a yes?” You flirt, fingers slowly dragging up his thighs with a grin. Getting up from the table, you take a new seat on Matt’s lap, straddling his thighs.

He heavily sighs as his hands immediately clutch around the dough of your ass. He quickly sucks in his bottom lip and clamps it down with his top teeth, growing painfully hard underneath you.

Loosening the tie of your nightgown, allowing it to droop and completely expose yourself to him. Starting to slowly roll your hips over him. Teasing your naked pussy over his fabric-covered cock. His head dropping back as he let out an exasperated groan, his hands travel to your waist and grip it tightly, clearly getting impatient.

“I want to make you feel good.” You sultrily whisper in his ear as your fingers lace into his boxers. He instinctively lifts his hips up as you tug at the material.

Spitting into your palm before holding him fully in your hand, softly pumping him a couple times before lifting yourself up and aligning him with your entrance.

Teasing his tip through your folds to try to collect some wetness to use as lube. Usually, you both spend the majority of your sex sessions doing foreplay, so today was something very different- you weren’t quite sure if you’d be ready enough for his large cock. Deciding to continue on, you wanted to make him feel good- with that in mind it started to do the same for you.

You sharply inhale as you slowly sink down onto the head of his cock, a deep guttural groan escaping from Matt’s agape mouth. Wincing at the shooting pain as you lower down on him, keeping still to adjust- completely bottomed out.

His teeth graze over your nipples in front of his face, hastily kissing wet patches over the sensitive skin on your breasts. Your head fell back, breathing heavily into the air.

“I need you.” He urges, as he slowly starts to thrust upwards into you.

Tightly gripping onto his shoulders, itching yourself away from his thrusts.

He looks up at you between your tits with a taunting smirk pulling at his lips. “What? You can’t even ride a cock?”

“I can- just, wait a sec.” Now fully adjusted and moulded to him, you sink back down onto his length. Face contorting in bliss as your eyebrows twist inwards.

“Pathetic thing. You need me to fuck you?”

Shaking your head no “nhm hm.”

“Want me to fuck you? Hm? Do you want me to make you feel all good inside? Yeah?” He grits in between open kisses on your chest.

Feeling your arousal grow bigger at his dirty talk. You wanted to be the one in control, but he has such a way with words that you had considered cracking and saying yes.

“Want me to ruin you? You can’t even ride a cock, you dumb little slut. I can make you feel good Angel, mhm?”

Caving in, nodding your head enthusiastically “please- yes.” You whine.

Wasting no time, he swiftly picks you up and places you down on the seat of the armchair facing you away from him. He stands extremely close behind you, slapping his cock over the cheeks of your ass. Readjusting your stance on your knees, widening your thighs apart. Arching your back and extending your hips towards him, wrapping your arm over the back of the chair for support.

He holds his cock in his hand, steadily sliding through your folds from behind. “Want me to destroy your pretty pussy, yeah?” He teases as he leans himself over you, sloppily kissing all down your back.

Replying “yes” a bit too eagerly.

“Good.” He says as he stands up straight, slapping your ass firmly before ramming himself inside of you with no warning, causing a deep moan to escape from the pair of you.

He pulls out before ploughing back into you, gripping your waist to make you match his continuous thrusts.

“I want to hear your pretty noises.” He says as he snakes his hand up the nape of your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair from the root before tugging at it, pulling your face from the cushion that was muffling your moans.

His thrusts grow relentless, repeating hitting the spots you both loved- becoming a hasty fury. You knew Matt loved the sounds you made, so you didn’t hold them back, allowing all genuine noises to escape your open mouth.

He leans back over you while he continued to pound into you, kissing your neck from behind, grazing his teeth and sucking on the delicate skin- purposely wanting to leave behind branding marks.

Letting go of your hair, he plants his hands back onto your waist, tightly squeezing it as he rams into you. Fucking you into him.

He pushes your chest down into the seat, allowing a new angle to directly hit your g-spot. “You like it when I ruin you like this? You like the way it makes you feel?”

Only being able to moan “mhmm.”

“I know you do.” Slapping and grabbing your ass, trying to stop himself from coming too soon.

Your inner thighs became very slick, a combination of your juices and his precum ran down them, collecting in a puddle on the seat. The sound of his balls hitting your clit from behind echoed around the apartment, the air full of pure arousal.

Growing desperately closer, your walls tightened around him.

“Not yet. Wait for me. I want to cum with you.” He quickly spits out.

Whining a couple pleases, telling him you can’t hold it.

“You gotta wait or I’ll stop, sweetheart. Do you want me to stop fucking you like a whore? Huh?”

“No.” You whimpered, the last thing you wanted was for him to stop.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Hold it, you needy thing.”

His cock twitching tells you that he’s very close too. “Cum when I get to one.” He grits, not slowing down.

“Three…two” he pauses on purpose, edging you more, earning a frustrated whine from you. “You want me to say it, don’t you pretty girl? … one.”

With that you both let go, spasming and jolting on his cock while he spray-painted inside of you. Your walls milking more his essence as he slowed down. Collapsing himself over you, whimpering into the skin of your back.

“Oh, good job.” He sweetly says, tracing his fingers down your spine. “Such a good, pretty girl.”

Slowly pulling himself out of you with a groan. His arms wrap around your stomach, picking you up so that he can slump into the chair with you atop. You rested your head into the crook of his neck, bringing your knees up and placing your feet onto the arm of the seat, cuddling into him.

“Please me about your day? What’s been on your mind?” you sweetly ask looking up at him, delicately rubbing soothing circles on his chest.

#matthew murdock #matthew murdock x reader #daredevil #matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #mcu smut #marvel fan fiction #marvel #matt murdock fanfic #request #i want him

1K notes · View notes

florence-end · 1 year

Text

May I have this dance?

Azriel x fem!reader Part 2

Request: Could you write a shy reader × Azriel story? Thank you!

Warnings: none

Summary: Azriel’s new mate is painfully shy, despite his efforts to get closer to her. Something shifts between them when Mor needs help with Cassian’s dance lessons.

You heard Mor calling for you all the way from the dining room, which definitely meant she was up to no good if she hadn’t come to your office to talk to you directly. You set aside the book you were combing through, adding it to the pile of discarded volumes that you and Amren had been scouring for clues on how to beat Koschei. As the recently appointed head scholar of the night court, quietly reading in your office took up most of your time and was exactly how you liked it. Groups of people, social occasions, too much noise, it all made you nervous and you retreated even further into yourself than usual.

Preparing yourself for the whirlwind of energy that was the high lord and lady’s third in command, you made your way to the large dining room at the other end of the corridor. Music was playing inside, and as you pushed open the large wooden door, you were met with the sight of Mor dragging Cassian around in a waltz as he tried desperately to keep up with her speed. Rhysand and Feyre were also stumbling through the steps, looking only slightly more proficient than the clumsy warlord. Off to the side, leaning against the large table that had been pushed against the wall and looking far too amused, was Azriel.

His eyes moved to you immediately as though he couldn’t help himself, and he gave you a small smile and wave. You felt the muted rush of affection flood the bond before he could clamp down on it to avoid overwhelming you, and you gave a small smile back to let him know it was okay.

You and Azriel had met on your first day in the night court a month ago, and the bond had snapped right away. Although you were happy to finally meet your soulmate, your shy demeanour and nervousness when it came to interacting with strangers had caused you to panic a little and you kept your distance at first. He respected your feelings and had committed himself to gently courting you ever since.

Mugs of your favourite tea were waiting for you on your desk every time you left your office to search the library. Little trinkets and decorations for your bedroom were left neatly wrapped for you to find, always hailing from whatever court or country Azriel had most recently visited on his missions. He had taken to spending any downtime he had in your office, settled quietly in the armchair across from your desk and helping you work through the never-ending pile of research in comfortable silence. Once, when you were feeling particularly relaxed after a few glasses of wine at dinner in the river house, he dared to take you on an aerial tour of Velaris as he flew you back to the House of Wind. Just the memory of his secure arms holding you close to the warmth of his body while the chilly breeze whipped around you made your cheeks heat up.

The music came to an end and Mor turned to see you lingering in the doorway. “Perfect, you’re here! Please don’t hate me but I really need your help,” she pleaded. Mor explained that Cassian needed to learn to dance in order to impress Nesta on the next trip to the Court of Nightmares. She had asked Rhys and Feyre to attend the lesson so Cassian could see what the steps were supposed to look as Mor taught him the routines but it turns out dancing was not a talent possessed by the high lord nor the high lady.

“In my defence, I have never needed to dance at the court of nightmares, my role is to sit on the throne and look intimidatingly handsome. And I am fantastic at it,” Rhys protested as Mor continued to criticise his two left feet. Feyre had a better excuse, given she had mostly grown up poor in the human lands.

You giggled as Mor and Rhys bickered for a few more moments before she dismissed her cousin and his wife. They quickly bade their goodbyes and left the dining room hand in hand.

“If you’re going to ask me to dance, Mor, I should say now that I don’t know any of the night court routines,” you warned, knowing where this conversation was going and not liking it one bit.

“That’s alright! Luckily for us all, Azriel possesses all the grace that his brothers do not and he knows them all. He’ll lead and all you need to do is follow,” Mor declared, giving you no time to object as she grabbed your wrist and pulled you over to your mate who was watching your face for any signs of serious discomfort. “Az, show her the hold for the waltz and I’ll run over the steps with Cassian again,” she instructed and left you both on your side of the makeshift dance floor.

“You don’t need to do this, just say the word and I’ll winnow you back to your office before she notices,” Azriel offered kindly.

“No no it’s okay, I want to help plus Nesta is my friend and it’ll make her happy. But I really don’t know what I’m doing,” you murmured back quietly, twisting your hands in front of you.

Azriel offered you his hand in a silent question, letting you make the move to touch him. You know he’s sensitive about his scars and would never want to make him feel any more self conscious by hesitating so you slipped your fingers over his palm to link with his and looked up into his warm hazel eyes.

Although he’s flown with you a few times and you eat most of your meals sat next to each other, the proximity and intimacy of the moment flustered you immediately and you broke eye contact. You missed the flash of pride on Azriel’s face at the evidence of how much his presence affected you.

“Now put your other hand on my shoulder and I’ll place mine on your waist,” he explained and you obeyed his instructions without delay.

“A little closer,” he urged, using the hand on your waist to curl around your lower back and press you further into his chest. You were so close now that his scent hovered all around you, you could feel his warm breath brush across your cheek, and his shadows caressed the hand that lay on his broad shoulder as though wanting to prevent you from withdrawing your touch.

“Perfect,” he whispered, his lips inches from your ear. Mother above, this male was going to be the death of you. Your face couldn’t be any hotter if you were actually ablaze. “When the music starts, all you need to do is close your eyes and trust me.”

The reminder of why you were here burst your bubble as you felt your nerves return. “What if I trip or step on your feet?” You questioned anxiously, beginning it pull back from him.

His hands remained firm, keeping you in place. Once again, his whispers sent shivers along every inch of your skin. “I would never let you trip. And it would be an honour to have you step on my feet,” he teased, helping you relax.

“Okay are we ready to try this from the top?” Mor called from across the room. Azriel nodded on behalf of you both, and reminded you to close your eyes.

As the music began, you quickly started to wonder if the Illyrians gave as much dance training as they did for combat because Azriel was flawless. He moved with a quiet grace and certainty, leading you with such confidence that you didn’t have a chance to feel shy or anxious. Cassian’s cursing and stomping footsteps nearby told you that Azriel’s skills may not have been Illyrian-taught after all but you were feeling too giddy to give it much more thought.

One dance turned into two which turned into five. When the music came to an end half an hour later, Azriel released his hold on your waist and leaned back slightly to take in your dazed expression as your eyes fluttered open, chuckling lowly.

You hadn’t noticed that Mor and Cassian had left sometime while you were dancing, and for once in your life you weren't worrying about looking foolish or trying to find the right thing to say. All of your thoughts were consumed by this miraculous male in front of you who had quite literally whisked you off your feet. And to make it even better, he was looking at you as if you were miraculous too.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel x you #acotar

747 notes · View notes

mamawasatesttube · 8 months

Note

“Wait! Please— I’m sorry, just— wait.” for the game?

"Don't"—Kon rips the last strip of medical tape and presses it into place against Tim's upper arm, his hands gentle even though his voice is furious—"ever do that again. Promise me."

Tim leans his head back against the headrest and closes his eyes. His shoulder throbs with pain; ibuprofen can't do that much against a bullet wound. It was a clean shot, though, just through muscle, not hitting bone, so it'll heal fine.

"I'm not making that promise, and you know it," he answers, a few seconds late.

Kon inhales sharply, as if Tim has just slapped him. Then—

"Fine," he hisses. Tim opens his eyes just in time to see him shoot back to his feet and whirl on his heel. He takes two furious strides towards the door before Tim's sluggish sense of alarm slams into action and adrenaline surges through his chest, because Kon's leaving and Tim can't—!

"Wait!" Tim pushes away from the wall and stands. He's a little woozy from blood loss, yeah, but that pales in importance when Kon's about to vanish. "Please—I'm sorry, just—wait."

But Kon isn't in front of him any longer. He was too late. Or maybe Kon was just too upset with him. And—

"Sit back down, idiot," Kon's voice says, behind him, and strong hands catch him just as he wobbles. When did Kon get so close? "You need to replenish your fluids before you go gallivanting off to be a self-sacrificial idiot again."

Kon eases him back down into the armchair. Tim pinches the bridge of his nose with his good arm, the world spinning.

"It didn't kill me," he mutters. "It's just a flesh wound. Why are you so worked up about it?"

Even dizzy as he is, he can still see Kon stiffen at his side. "Because—!" Kon jerks away, wrapping his arms around himself. "That was a fucking kryptonite bullet, Tim. That was meant for me. You shouldn't—why would you—"

"Because it was meant for you." Tim closes his eyes again. He's exhausted. He needs Kon nearby. Just... so he can be sure he's okay.

Kon lets out a distressed, unhappy noise. "That doesn't mean—it's still a bullet, you stupid little—"

"I know!" Tim bursts out. He opens his tired eyes to glare at Kon. "I know it's a bullet! I felt it go through my damn shoulder, Kon, I promise I know it's a bullet!"

Kon glares right back. "Then why would you—"

"Because I can't lose you again!"

The words hang in the air between them as heartbeats tick by. Kon's impossible, luminous eyes are wide, his lips slightly parted. His eyelashes are thick and dark; the shades pushed up into his hair are cracked. He's so beautiful Tim could weep.

How can he make him understand? He saw the green glow, he saw the gun pointed at Kon's chest, and he—it wasn't an active thought. He just saw a golden statue in his mind's eye, and he moved. He can't lose Kon again. He can't live through that again. He can't.

"Rob," Kon murmurs. His voice is gentle, all the frustration melted away. He reaches over, cradles Tim's cheek in a warm, smooth hand. Tim presses into his touch, his chest suddenly tight. "You're not gonna lose me."

"I can't," Tim repeats a little hoarsely. "So I can't make you that promise."

Kon blows out a deep, tired sigh. "We'll... talk about it later," he says. "For now, I just... I want you to drink that Gatorade I got you. Okay? You need fluids with electrolytes."

Tim chews at his lip. The bottle sits innocuously on the side table. "Okay."

Without being asked, Kon opens it for him. He presses it into Tim's good hand, and then—

He leans down, his shadow falling over Tim's face, and brushes a tender kiss to Tim's forehead. He lingers, as Tim's breath catches in his throat, his lips pressed to Tim's skin. He can definitely hear the way Tim's heart beats faster as Tim sits there, wide-eyed, as sparks shoot through his entire body and fill him with a strange, fluttery warmth.

Kon draws back and sinks to his knees. He leans against Tim's legs and rests his head in Tim's lap. None of his fury and dismay from just a few minutes ago remain; if anything, he just looks... melancholy.

"You're not gonna lose me again, Robbie," he says softly. "I'm here."

Tim takes a sip of his Gatorade to quell the lump in his throat. He carefully threads the fingers of his other hand into Kon's messy curls. "Yeah," he says, his voice a little smaller than he'd like it to be. "You are."

#rimi writes #pteropodidaes #timkon #tim #kon #i love drama but im so bad at keeping it concise...... catch me in megs dms wailing about this like 3 separate times

149 notes · View notes

damiansgoodgirll · 1 year

Text

kylian mbappè x reader

tw: angst, a little bit of postpartum depression

5 years (part two)

giving birth to your baby without having kylian in the room with you was the hardest part. you always imagined having the love of your life by your side, comforting you and encouraging you. the person that was supposed to be your everything.

you knew that after all he was the father of your child but a little part of you knew that he didn’t deserve it. so you did without him. you had all the support you needed but not his.

and it was okay. you were still healing.

but the worst part was being a single mom. taking care of a newborn all alone and having no experience was hard, it was killing you. of course kylian saw the baby, but with football and away matches he couldn’t take care of your kid 24 hours the way you were doing.

the restless nights.

your kid crying from day to night and from night to day.

your whole body was in pain.

your feet so swollen you only wore slippers.

and your breast, it was killing you. it was always so full and swollen to the point the pain because too much and you couldn’t do nothing to prevent it.

kylian apologised so many times you’ve lost count. he prayed, no, he begged for you to take him back. and even tho you missed him, you couldn’t forgive what he did.

like - how can someone forgive cheating? you couldn’t find a straight answer to that. even if it’s been four months now, you couldn’t find the strength to forgive and forget something like that. i

while you were lost in your thoughts you heard a faint knock on the door. you knew it was him. it was kylian’s day off and of course he wanted to spend it with your baby. you came to an agreement that you would do co-parenting. your lawyer proposed it and you couldn’t say no, it was kylian’s child too after all.

you opened the door and let him. your child was currently sleeping so you didn’t want to wake them up yet and kylian noticed that too because he stopped you before you could go to their bedroom.

“one second y/n…” he said and you turned to look at him “can we - can we talk for a second?”

“is it really necessary?” you asked. it wasn’t like you were on great terms, nope. you still hated to see his face but you were doing everything in your power to give a good life to your baby, including having two parents who didn’t fight every single day. you didn’t want this toxicity in your family.

“yes please…i promise you, i’ll be quick i just - i just need to talk to you, at least for a minute, without having your lawyers or the kid crying in the background…” he said.

you nodded and let him sit on the couch while you sat on your armchair.

“are you okay?” he asked you.

“yes why?”

“y/n, please don’t lie…i know you and i know that look, you’re not okay, you’re far from okay” he said and you couldn’t believe your ears.

“what? i’m okay kylian, what is that supposed to mean?” you grew difensive.

“i’m not trying to attack you or make you angry, i just wanna know if you’re okay, i know doing this alone it’s hard and i want you to know that i’m here if you need me…you look tired, even a blind person would be able to see it…” he began to talk but you stopped him.

“i’m okay kylian, stop it…”

“but i know you’re not! i know you…i know the baby is tiring you and-…”

“yes, the baby is tiring me out like hell, okay? are you happy with this?” you whispered-screamed.

“then why don’t you let me help you? please…”

“i don’t want or need your help kylian!” you grew tired of this and couldn’t wait to have kylian out of your apartment.

“but the baby needs you and you can’t take care of them if you’re not taking care of yourself…” he said, probably rephrasing bad what he wanted to say.

“i can’t take care of my child?” you stood up “kylian, you have no fucking idea what i’ve been sacrificing these past months. my mental health is gone, i don’t know if what i’m doing is wrong or right and i’m doing this all alone! the least you do is staying with the baby a few hours a week because your too busy with football and your career so don’t you ever tell me again how parenting works okay?” you needed to let it all out and kylian was there to listen to you “i fucking hate the moments you took the baby away from me because i feel so alone but at the same time i love it because the whole house is calm and peaceful…and the house - the house is always a mess, i’m trying my best, i’m fucking trying but it’s hard…” you sobbed a little.

“let it all out…” he said wrapping his arms around you. you needed a hug so bad that for a moment you forgot that you were mad at him.

“i hate the way my body changed…i see myself in the mirror and i can’t recognise that person, it’s a whole new me and i hate her! everything hurts, my body, my breast, hell even my feet! i need to sleep more that three hours a night but i can’t…i just, i’m not okay but i’m pretending i am because someone needs to stay strong for our baby…” you said wiping your tears.

kylian gave you a sad smile. he wanted to keep holding you but you immediately moved away. he wanted to be the one who wiped your tears away but you wouldn’t let him touch you.

“listen to me y/n…you’re a great mom, you’re a beautiful person, in and out…you just need a little rest…you’re just human after all” he said and you gave a sarcastic smile “i have a four days break from practice and football, no matches , no training, no interviews, nothing at all. our baby could stay with me for these days so you could rest…you need to rest…you’ve been tiring yourself out for too much now…and you need a well deserved rest” he proposed.

at first you wanted to say no. staying away from your baby for four days? absolutely no!

but you needed it. you needed to rest, sleep for more than 3 hours.

so you ended up saying yes.

you packed all the things kylian would be needing for these days and you already knew it was going downhill even before starting. but you prayed that he would call his mom if he needed help and not a baby sitter. your baby didn’t need a babysitter, your baby needed to bond with his father.

so you gave him the bag, the baby in his stroller, a hand piece of paper with all the things kylian needed to know and waved them goodbye.

you’ve spent the first day in bed. literally. you ordered take out and ate in bed.

the second day you focused a little more on the house, it needed cleaning but you took things calmer. and in the afternoon you had time for yourself so you booked yourself a hair appointment and you fixed the shit you had in head.

the third day was a real blessing. in the morning you went out for groceries, in the afternoon you went out for shopping. you stopped at his cute book store near your house and once inside you accidentally bumped into someone. you apologised so many times that the man in front of you had to stop you.

you’ve began to talk, finding out you have more in common than what you expected. you felt an immediate connection with him and he felt it too.

the same night you had dinner together, it wasn’t a date, more like two people that wanted to get to know each others better.

“i liked this night…” you said when he walked you back home.

“it doesn’t have to be the last one though…” he smiled at you and for the first time in months you let out a genuine laugh.

“no it doesn’t…”

“well, goodnight madame…i really had a great time with you” he said smiling at you and gently kissing your cheek.

you texted all night and on day four you invited him over for lunch.

you really had a great time together. you thought he was going to dump you the moment you told him about you having a child and being a single mom at this young age but he stayed anyway. he listened to you. and for the first time in a very long time you felt attracted to someone who wasn’t kylian.

bonus was that he wasn’t a football fan so you wouldn’t have to worry.

you’ve spent the fourth day together, learning more about one another.

and as days, even months passed you grew more and more fond of each other to the point you started dating.

kylian hated it. he hated seeing you with another man. he hated seeing you happy with someone who wasn’t him. but he knew he lost you many months ago and he couldn’t do anything to have you back.

this was like your little and sweet revenge.

after being in pain and sad, crying almost every night you found a way out, a light, an opportunity that you had to take, and thank goodness, you did.

436 notes · View notes

muffinsin · 3 months

Text

Sleepless whispers

Bela Dimitrescu x female reader, fluff snippet

Bela finds and comforts you the night after a rough day and a fight with your Mother

Masterlists

You walk past the familiar stone walls of Castle Dimitrescu. Flickering candlelight casts eery shadows and beautiful reflections in your wet eyes. By now, you’re familiar to the walls surrounding you. By now, you feel you can call them a home.

Tonight though, the gothic beauty and grandeur of the castle feels almost suffocating to you, mirroring the feeling in your heart, the tightness of your chest, the emptiness where love should be.

You wander aimlessly, unsure of where to go or what to look for. Your bare feet make little noise against the hard floor and even the occasional noises in the distance have quieted down.

You are alone, and you find, you don’t necessarily mind the isolation. Still, it does not make up for the pain in your heart and the harsh words in your head stinging every few seconds.

You yearn for someone in the dark, even as you wander senselessly, your fingertips dragging over vases and statues, unlit candleholders and dusted off cabinets.

Your eyes sting with unshed tears. Still, you tremble. With sadness, anger? Concentration to keep from crying? You aren’t sure, but can’t bring yourself to care, either.

Time passes and you don’t know for long you have been wandering, but find you have made it to the west wing.

Bela,

a single thought comes to the front of your mind.

For a moment, your chest feels a little lighter. The thought of her helps for a mere moment before isolation and suffocation have you pause in your steps again.

A heavy sigh passes your lips as you lean against the nearest wall, cold and hard against your skin.

Mother’s words sting still. You try your best to keep them away, to forget, to push them back.

“Lost, are we, little one?”

You jump at the calm, but surprising voice behind you. You know the voice, of course, and as you turn around and find your beautiful girlfriend standing right in front of you, it takes all within you to keep from throwing yourself into her arms and crying your heart out.

You know, she would allow it. Encourage it, even. And yet, your Mother’s stinging words have you hold back.

In this moment, you try to focus on Bela only.

Her presence, intimidating to most, comforting to you. Her beauty accentuated by the dim light of the candles lit on the hallway. Her bright, golden eyes, often described as cold and calculating, suspicious and fearsome, so beautifully warm and soft as they are set on you.

Her love, so visible in her posture and appearance, has your heart ache.

She’s still in her normal outfit, yet you find her coat missing and her hood down. She looks almost exhausted, and it has you focus on the darkness out the window.

You aren’t sure what time it is. It must be late.

As you feel a tear daring to slip down your cheek, you’re quick to turn around.

“Bela”, you murmur, wiping away the stray tear and clearing your throat. “I didn’t mean to make you come look for me, or worry. I just…needed some space”, you whisper into nothingness. You want to face her, yet know tears would fall down your cheeks instantly if you did.

You hear her heels clicking as she walks towards you, approaching slowly. Then, you feel feminine, but strong arms wrap around you and soft, thick lips set against the top of your head.

“And space you shall have”, she whispers.

Don’t go, a part of your mind screams. You know she can’t hear, but, she doesn’t need to, as she continues her sentence.

,“But not alone. Come with me”

Too tired to argue and too wrapped up in her scent and love, you follow her without question. Through the winding halls, past empty, dark rooms.

You recognize her room, large, but cozy, perfectly organized and cleaned. Fire crackling in the hearth, casting a warm and comfortable glow and warmth over the plush armchairs, fluffy rugs, and warm, made bed.

You’re guided to sit down on it, your cold feet automatically slipping beneath the covers. You feel comfort in the warmth, as well as in the one you find in her eyes.

She sits down by your side, her gaze not once leaving you. You don’t feel intimidated, though, but rather feel the love radiating from her.

“What’s troubling you, little one?”, she asks eventually, when moments pass of the two of you sitting in silence.

You try to answer, part your lips, yet no words escape your dry throat.

You feel stuck in your thoughts, almost.

And as such, frustration and sadness rises in you. You want to tell her, yearn to tell her. Yet, your Mother’s words have you hold back.

Of course, she understands. Somehow, she always does.

“You met your Mother today, no? Did it not go well?”, she pushes slightly, her hand set on yours, her concern genuine.

A hiccup passes your lips, and suddenly you feel hot tears run down your cheeks.

Everything spills from you, your mother’s harsh and hurtful words, your feelings, how you could do nothing but flee the room as you heard her loud, dramatic sighs of annoyance behind you.

She nods along, her eyes narrowing slightly.

You don’t notice when she moves, nor when you move and reach out to her, until you’re resting against her supple chest, your tears wetting her dress, her breasts serving as a pillow for your heavy head.

You’ve never felt more content.

Her hand traces little shapes on your back, which you can’t help but concentrate on.

Even as you talk, you feel the voices quieten down and your breaths even again.

“I don’t know what to do. She doesn’t understand me and never has. She just can’t see things from my perspective! She doesn’t even try to!”

Her expression softens further. You feel her soft breath, the low buzzing of her flies caused by your proximity.

“Sometimes, those we love the most can hurt us the deepest. But, those wounds can heal. It takes time, patience, and willingness. Sometimes, there are people lacking this. Sometimes, there are people not worth our time and pain, our patience and love”, she whispers.

You look up, finding comfort in her eyes and words. You know, you will always have her.

“Thank you”, you whisper, your head turning so you can nuzzle back against her chest. You calm a little.

“Stay here, rest. Tomorrow will bring clarity, and perhaps the distance allows both of you to calm again. While I doubt she will reflect, at least take this opportunity to retreat and calm, little one”, she coos.

The warmth of her body and the fire begin to soothe your nerves. You feel at ease, your body growing heavy against her.

“I’d like that”

You feel her tuck you in, her hands gentle, precise, used to such movements from the countless nights her sisters came to her during nightmares and required tucking in in order to go back to sleep.

With a kiss to your forehead, she sits back up.

In the dark, your hand reaches out to grasp her wrist.

“Bela? Will you stay?”, you whisper into the darkness. For a moment, silence, as she thinks of whether or not the work that must still be done is truly all that urgent.

Then, a hum.

“Yes, of course”

In only a few minutes you feel her body against yours, her presence comforting, like an anchor in the wild sea during a storm.

You smile to yourself.

Despite what your Mother once thought, you have found sanctuary, in the heart of Castle Dimitrescu, admits its darkness and danger.

And as the fire burns low and slowly begins to burn itself out and casts less and less gentle shadows in the room, your eyes fall shut. You know, no matter what tomorrow will bring, you won’t face it alone.

#bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu x reader

110 notes · View notes

getitoutofmymindwrites · 1 year

Text

I don't even know your name | joel miller x f!reader, 8.3k

Summary: Your life changes dramatically and you turn to your best friend, Trish, for help. Trish is Joel’s cousin and little did you know when you met him by chance in a bar, before Trish officially introduced you to one another. He’s emotionally unavailable -or so he thinks-, you have lost faith in people -or so you think. Basically, two idiots who fall in love and decide to torture themselves.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, no outbreak, angst, slow-burn, Joel is 45ish, reader is 35 with two baby girls, allusions to smut, dirty thoughts, swearing, no physical description of the reader (but she will have long hair for smut purposes later on, hehe), no use of y/n, I’m not good at warning people, tell me what am I missing!

A/N: This has taken me forever, my life is a f’ing mess, but I didn’t want to abandon it. I’m splitting the story to parts, otherwise you’d been reading it until The Second Coming. 😅😏🫣 Thank you to anyone who’s taking the time to read this, I love you and I hope you enjoy it!😘

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

| next

“Guys?” you drag out the word, “Do we really have to have the talk?” you try to avoid the conversation, knowing yourself and how you usually respond to these kind of questions, damn your spontaneity, shifting restlessly into the couch. Joel’s presence, sitting across the room on the comfy armchair, near the lit fireplace, isn’t helping in the slightest. He looks too invested in your point of view, but you already expected that. You try to avoid his gaze for as long as you can.

“Yes! Get the conversation going, babe, don’t be shy!” a female voice comes from a different part of the house. Joel doesn’t respond, looking quite nonchalant, in an effort to not seem.. eager. But you know better.

“It’s not a matter of shyness, on the contrary, you know I’m in the habit of not holding my tongue, and that can often get me in trouble..”, you sigh, shaking your head.

I have a few ideas involving that tongue of your- Stop it. Joel suppresses his thoughts audibly, by clearing his throat. “How come?” he finally joins in. You love the sound of that word on his mouth. Shaping into a different meaning inside your mind every time he uses it, pumping all of your blood to all the right places. Four months into knowing him and you quickly came to realize if you let your guard down, you would be done for. And now was not the time. You had a million loose ends to work out.

“Oh, you know, people tend to get the wrong idea, assuming things about me. I wish I could shut me up sometimes.” Oh, the ways I could shut that pretty little mouth, darlin’. Get it together. She’s not good for you. Or maybe you’re not good enough for her., he’s looking away, focusing on Trish, his cousin and your dear friend, who rushes out of her kitchen holding your -God knows what round of- drinks, almost stumbling on the carpet, while Joel’s trying to clear his head.

“What’s the rush Trish, anything to get off your chest?” you ask, squinting at her in a shut-the-fuck-up way. She bursts into laughter before she can even begin to talk, not taking the hint. Or pretending not to. Definitely pretending. Menace. “You remember that time, where were we?” She’s clicking her fingers together in an effort to jog her own memory. “With that dude? Who thought you wanted to talk your way into fucking him? Like he needed any convincing whatsoev-”

“We’ve met a lot of dudes together Trish; you being the main reason we’ve met them in the first place.” you interrupt, rolling your eyes at your friend. Joel is raising an eyebrow, looking back and forth between you and her. “I’m gonna need you to be more specific. Actually, don’t, you already embarrassed me enough!” you hold back a smile covering your face with one hand, as you pull your feet on the couch, bringing your knees to your chest in an effort to create a barrier between you and the space surrounding you, to feel some kind of protection around you.

Trish is looking so amused, she’s having a hard time concentrating. “I don’t remember nor the place or the dude, but you were defending, quite passionately I might add, womens’ equal right to one night stands and how we should have the same amount of pleasure as men without the guilt that comes with it; Joel you should see her, she almost raised the flag of revolution!” Where are you going with this Trish..?

“Did she, now..” Joel runs his eyes up and down, taking you all in, sipping his whiskey slowly, licking his bottom lip after he swallowed. Jesus, that neck.

You groan in frustration, “Here it comes. Another one who speculates. Ok, let me have it.”, you almost snap, observing the way he’s checking you out. But he knows better. There’s an intensity radiating out of him, you can almost feel the warmth of it on your skin and you let your mind wonder how he would feel like over you, under you or in any way he would choose to manhandle you. Manhandle? Where is this coming from?

“Hey, she’s the one who said ‘passionately’!” Joel raises his hands up in defense, his brows raised and knead together, clearly amused on the information he’s extracting so effortlessly. Trish takes her seat next to you to the couch, enjoying the moment more than she should, looking at the two of you.

“I’m not- I don’t- uuuuh, Trish why are you doing this to me?” you whine in exasperation, looking up to the ceiling, and rolling your eyes shut.

“Because maybe you should! Come on, live a little!”, she grumbles, grabbing your forearm, shaking you dramatically. Trish was actually living, more than a little, her life, full of experiences, lovers, you name it. Sometimes you wished you could live so carefree. She has been desperately trying to pour some of her carnal wisdom into you. For years. Now, given your emotional status, she believes it’s her best chance. So, she pushed.

“Should do what?” Joel interjects curiously.

Trish opens her mouth and spills it out before you can stop her, “Fuckarounds!” -her take on one night stands- “or at least something casual, since she insists that one flavor is better than a sea of delicacies.”, she winks dramatically in your direction.

“Yeah, no, that’s- that’s great, let’s bring Joel into this conversation” you sigh, rubbing your forehead and tilting your head down.

“Oh, I thought-” he looks genuinely confused at your reaction. At this point he’s confused about a lot of things.

“Yes! Exactly! Of course you thought! That’s what I meant before. Just because I can’t bring myself to do it, it doesn’t mean that it’s wrong, or that I’m judgmental of people that do it. Hell, sometimes I wish I was those people.. That’s what I was trying to explain to the dude-”

“You see?” she turns to Joel for backup, “quite the lawyer we have here! And the dude didn’t get the memo.”, she turns to you once more. You shake you head at her and you both laugh at the memory.

“She’s insufferable sometimes, but I’ll get her mind around, don’t you worry!”, she adds, taking her eyes from yours to Joel’s, smiling at the implication, almost like.. you’re spoken for?? What the fuck, Trish? Your face feels like it’s on fire and you’re pretty sure it’s showing, too. You can always blame it on the heat of the fireplace. Now it’s Joel’s turn to shift to his seat uncomfortably. He, thankfully, rises from his spot and let both of you know he’s heading to the kitchen for a refill.

“What the fuck are you doing?”, you hiss at her. “He’ll think I put you up to this.”

“Up to what?” Trish plays dumb, but failing monumentally.

“Dude, you can’t have your cousin think that I’m into him, it’s not right. I didn’t asked you to. Quit it.”, you whisper in despair.

“Love, seriously, you need to at least de-stress yourself.” Trish pressures on. “It’s been, what, six months since the divorce, four months in, leaving with me, I mean, that’s unacceptable.”

“Look, I’ll move, the first house I’ll find, I promise, I don’t want to overstay my welcome-”

“Hey, I’m talking about letting four perfectly good months fly away without getting any. Especially, when you have such a skilled babysitter. You're not taking advantage of me enough.” She moves her hands around her body, showing herself. “And I told you, you and the girls can stay here indefinitely. I fuckin’ mean it.”

“Well, less of the ‘f’ word in front of them, if you do!”, you tease. “Thank you, but I’ll find a place. I need to. I want to bring some kind of normalcy back into our lives. Their lives.”

“I know, baby. But seriously. You’re fucking 35. You act like your life is over. He’s not worth it.”

“We’ve been through that before Trish, it’s not about him, I just-” you exhale, shaking your head, “l don’t think there’s anyone out there for me, you know? I feel like I’m too old for any of this. Point me to the direction of one guy, just one, who would even consider to engage with a 35 year old divorced mother of two and I’ll take him, Scout’s honor.”

She opens her mouth to say something but reconsiders, trying to find the right words. She knows you have a point. “That’s why I insist for you to.. FUCK AROUND! No strings attached. How sweet of you to help me prove my point!!”, Trish exclaims triumphantly.

You pretend to be in deep thinking, finally concluding, “You know what, I’m done with men. Not worth the energy spent. Hey, maybe I’ll date you; we love each other, we practically live together, it’s a done deal!” You both laugh at the idea.

“Aaaaaw, I’m fluttered hot mama, but maybe you should give ‘em men a chance, before you flip the coin!”, she pushes on.

You really look at her now, trying to see her point of view. You were lonely, you were touch deprived, you longed for intimacy, but intimacy in your case meant sentiment. And sentiment comes form some kind of attachment. You wanted, you needed, hell, you craved to connect. “You know, you always insist on all that casual thing, but I’m in a place in life that.. what’s the point?”

“Um, the point of someone else giving you an orgasm?”, she deadpans.

“Oh God..”, you drug your hand down your face, feeling defeated. “Seriously? Because I’m pretty sure this coffee table here,” you point at it with your brows, “can find my bud easier than half the men out there.”, you blurt out in frustration. Joel coughs, choking on his whiskey. You both jolt from your seats on the couch at the sound, turning your heads, one in amusement and one in embarrassment, seeing Joel standing at the living room entrance, frozen in place. Neither of you heard him approaching. If you could hold your tongue for once, woman. Just once.

“So..” he drags the word out, “what about the other half?”, he shakes off the awkwardness of the moment and sly his way into the conversation. You both look at him with a dumbfounded expression on your faces.

“Joel, how long have you been standing there?” Trish wonders, raising one brow devilishly.

“Enough to know I was right to have been standing there as long as I have.” he smirks into his glass, swallowing another sip. You’re too mortified to register the question as non-rhetorical. You almost stop breathing, praying that would make you invisible, hoping he‘d somehow forget his question.

“So?”, Joel insists, looking at you through his lashes, crossing his legs and leaning against the doorframe that connects the living area with the kitchen.

“Excuse me?”, you manage to breathe out, feeling exposed.

Joel doesn’t miss the opportunity to remind you exactly what you pointed out, moments ago. “You said that half the men can’t find y-”, he pauses, inhaling sharply, imagining how good you would look, all naked and spread out under him, but hearing in his mind how intimate what he’s about to say sounds, he corrects himself. “Uh, a woman’s bud.” He moves his hands in the air in a generic motion. You feel so embarrassed, you think you might explode if your heart rate doesn’t drop down. “So, what about the other half of us?” his eyes are burning coals, piercing through you. You pick up the insinuation immediately. He knows his way around a woman’s body. Ok, thank you for the burning image of you eating me out, fingering me to death or rubbing me to completion, Joel. But where the fuck is he going with this? He knows by now that you’re candid like that and you’ll answer accordingly, so he presses all your buttons on purpose, he’s got to be. You devil, we had a fucking deal. You smile, accepting the challenge as you decide to answer him. Two can play that game.

“Oh, you mean the emotionally unavailable half?”

He certainly didn’t expect this response. His face drops suddenly, his jaw flexes; you are positive that a nerve has been touched. He looks embarrassed, like a child caught with his hand in the honey pot and you immediately feel sorry for him. You hate making people feel bad. Even if you’re right. Damn people pleaser.

Too forward? Too soon? Maybe both? You open your mouth to say something -anything- but your mind goes blank. He looks down at his half-empty glass and goes “Huh.”, before he empties the poison of his choice down his throat in one gulp. He calmly leaves the now empty glass on the coffee table, forming a one-sided kind of knowing smile on his face and he leaves the room quietly, leaving you feeling guilty.

You realize that you need to breathe at some point, so you take a sharp breath, after you hear the front door closing behind him.

“Well.. that went well.” Trish comments, looking at her nails.

You snap your head at her, feeling ready to explode. “That doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

“No, but it leaves you minus one penis.”, she deadpans.

“I’m not interes-“ her eyes move up to yours so quickly, staring at you in a don’t-bullshit-me way, that you don’t dare finish your sentence. “Even I would be interested if he wasn’t a relative.” she feels the need to exaggerate.

“He’s not what I’m looking for, Trish.”

“But he might be just what you need.” Damn, she’s on a roll tonight. “Is there something going on? I mean between the two of you.”

Panic rises fast inside of you like waves crushing on rocks. You think you can hear your heartbeat. “No, of course not.”

Trish gives you an investigative look, as if staring at you long enough would make you admit the truth she thinks she knows. “Are you sure?”

“Joel and I couldn’t be further apart, trust me.”

BEFORE

He observes you sitting on the bar stool for a long time, almost memorizing your every curve and line. He doesn’t mean to, but he can’t take his eyes off of you. He can’t even see your whole face, but something makes him stare. You stand out to him for some reason. Maybe it’s the intense antithesis against your surroundings. Still, while everyone moves. Sad, while everyone laughs. Quiet, while everyone yells into each others’ ears. Lonesome in a sea of people. Your gaze is soft and detached, like all the burden of the world is on your shoulders. Holding your beer for far too long, sipping slowly straight from the bottle, like you’re trying to prolong your stay at the bar, or maybe avoiding going back to where you came from. He’s standing up.

You’re sitting on the bar stool, looking absentmindedly at the bartender on the other side of the counter, moving around, serving drinks. And you’re just sitting there. Alone. Wondering how the hell did you come to this. You always thought it was kind of strange going out on your own. Never done it before. But here you are. Here you are.

It’s been a week since you left your whole life behind you, leaving everything you knew and hold dear, moving to your best friend’s house, temporarily. Until you figure out what you’re going to do. She insisted to babysit so you can go out and have fun. She was funny that way. Have fun. All you wanted was to just disconnect from the world. Not think of anything. Not worry about anyone. Not much of a choice when you are a parent though. Worrying is on top of your list when you have kids. Two little girls, two and a half years old and an almost six months old.

That’s what you did for the past couple of years. Giving birth and raising a baby girl. And then giving birth again to another one. Until your husband decided all of a sudden that he can’t do this anymore. You’ve become too cold, too distant, he felt under-appreciated, pushed away.

The fact that he was always gone, always working and not contributing the hours that he indeed was at home, the fact that you were practically all alone in this, was not taken into consideration.

Everything happened fairly quickly. In the course of four months you got separated, he didn’t even want to try to fix things. Not even for the sake of being able to say that you at least tried. And then other suspicions began to enter your mind-

“You really look like you need a drink.”, a deep voice distracts you from your thoughts. You would be almost thankful for the distraction, growing tired of thinking the same things over and over again, like a broken record, but your bad mood wins over this one. Without turning your head to look at the direction of the voice, you raise the hand holding your beer, motioning at it, in silence.

“Nuuuh, that’s practically water, darlin’.”, the man insists, leaning forward as he stands next to you, his body turned your way, his left foot crossing over his right, his elbow resting on the counter, holding his glass of whiskey. You still don’t turn to look at him and with all the patience that is left in you, you raise the bottle to your lips, taking a sip. “Nope, still beer.”, you answer and keep your gaze to the shelf with the drinks behind the bartender. God, you’re too old for this.

The stranger huffs a small laugh and pushes on. “At least lemme buy you a cold one. That one must taste like a piss by now.”

“Oh, you must have been watching me, then.”, you try to embarrass him in order to leave you alone.

“That, I have.” Oh, he’s got a pair.

“Well, don’t.” you snap and you finally turn to look at him.

Holy shit.

You can’t remember the last time you saw someone so beautiful. Someone, your kind of beautiful. Masculine and broad and dark but with a vibe of kindness and safety in his presence. He’s looking at you, patiently, with a hind of a smile on his lips, like he knew that you’d change your mind once you’d lay your eyes on him. You take a deep breath to compose yourself and start over. “Look, I’m sorry, you look like a decent guy, but I would just be a bad company.”

“You don’t have to apologize darlin’, you have every right to choose your company, or the lack of it for that matter. It’s ok.” he says and he’s starting to move away from you slowly like he’s going to leave you alone. And now he’s making you feel like an ass. Kill with kindness they say?

A thousand thoughts are crossing your mind, you haven’t done this for what it feels like ages, you’re out of your depth, you don’t know what you’re doing, you don’t even remember the woman behind the mother, he’s gorgeous, why the hell is he talking to you? Ok, you know what? You’re going to fucking enjoy yourself. Just make conversation, fool around, it’s not like you’re gonna see him ever again. What do you have to lose?

You exhale hard, rolling your eyes to yourself and you grab his wrist lightly to ask, “Beer offer still standing?” surprising your own self. Damn, he’s warm. Pleasantly warm. I-want-you-to-envelop-me-in-your-arms warm. He turns his head to you, his eyes drop to your hand holding his, then back to your lips and then to your eyes. He lingers for a second too long and then turns to the bartender to order. You reluctantly let go of his hand and smile coyly.

You stare at each other for a moment and you both smile, waiting for the other to initiate the conversation. “I swear I’m not trying to do small talk or throw a bunch of lines your way,” he begins playfully, “but, you don’t look like you’re from around here.”

You audibly laugh and you raise your brows in surprise. “That’s weird,” you reply scrunching your nose, “I thought that’s what people do when they’re talking to total strangers at bars.”

He snorts a laugh, fuck he’s handsome, nodding his head, “You’re gonna make me work for it, aren’t you?” he asks amused, looking at you through his lashes.

“Well, it’s either that, or you really want to get to know me for my striking personality” you answer, gaining more confidence by his reaction. It’s not like you’re gonna see him again, right?

He nods his head in amusement, “You didn’t answer my question, though.” he reminds you. You roll your eyes playfully before you tease him, “You’re right, I’m not from around here and technically that was an observation, not a question.”, you raise your cold beer pointing it his way, nodding your head in a silent thank you and then you drink from it.

He stops with his glass midair, brows raising, smirking at you. “Ok, fine, you want a real question, I’ll give ya one. Why do you look so damn sad?”, his head tilting to the side, his ear almost touching the shoulder of the arm he rests on the counter. His eyes are piercing holes in yours, making you feel vulnerable. “Uh, I-, I-, shit; that bad, huh? And there I was, thinking I was holding my own.” you mutter.

“Darlin’, someone like you, sitting on your own, not looking around to notice the number of eyes ogling you, lost in your own thoughts, doesn’t take much to figure it out..”

“Someone like me.. you mean troubled?”, you try to clarify, troubled being the only translation your mind could manage.

“I mean beautiful.”, the man delivers. Oh. His voice and his gaze determined and serious as he speaks, making you weak on the knees.

You give him a shy smile and deflect the compliment. “Most men don’t observe half of what you just said.”, you deadpan and as he opens his mouth to answer you, you add “but you’re not most men, are you?”

He’s really looking at you now, it feels like he’s savoring your details and he just smiles. A beautiful, honest, kind of sheepish smile. It fades away quickly though, his face going serious again. He keeps his eyes on you, hitting you with his perceptiveness. “What did the fucker do?” you hear him ask you, suddenly.

“Wha- How did you- what makes you think-“, you are genuinely shocked, losing your train of thought.

“Humor me.”, is all he gives you, in a low voice.

His question felt so to the point, that there was no reason for you to deny it or avoid it, so you look back to your beer, fearing to see the denigration in his eyes.

You take a deep breath and simply state, “He left me, two months after I had our second daughter.” You exhale. It feels odd to hear your own voice, to feel your tongue move in your mouth, saying those words. You haven’t talked about it enough, actually -at all, if you’re being completely honest and it feels like you talk about someone else. It’s like you’re out of your body looking at you.

And now you wait. You wait for the pity, the uncomfortable silence, the unavoidable retreat. But none of those things come. You turn to look at him and he’s standing there, looking pissed. His body stiffens, his gaze darkens and you’re pretty sure that glass of whiskey in his hand, doesn’t have much life in it. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ..” it’s all he mutters as he closes his eyes in frustration, rubbing his free hand over his face.

“So much for small talk, huh?”, you continue laughing, trying to relieve his tension. It doesn’t take, though. Why did he took it so personally? He opens his eyes again, looking at you seriously with a deep frown on his face.

You begin to feel uncomfortable, so you do what you always do best. Try to make everyone else comfortable. You start talking to fill the silence. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I know I’ve made mistakes, I wasn’t always the best wife, I was tired, I felt helpless at times, especially when raising two little girls with such a small age difference all on my own, not that that’s an excuse-“ you stop talking as he’s raising his hand in front of you to interrupt.

“Are you seriously blaming yourself right now?”, he sounds frustrated and confused, borderline offended.

“Well I’m not saying that what he did was ideal, I’m just trying to explain how hard it is to be practically all alone with two kids and how much it takes from you, how the balance is changing between the couple-”

“Ideal? That’s an interesting choice of word.”, he observes once again. Nice, you didn’t think he would catch that.

“You can’t keep anyone in your life by force. I won’t. I can’t control his feelings. It was the way he handled things that pained me the most.”, you explain.

He’s staring at you like you’re a fucking puzzle.

You sigh and continue, taking a deep breath, feeling defeated already. How you could possibly explain and how he could possibly understand? “I know most men don’t get it; you can’t understand how difficult it is to be responsible for two little people, making every decision, every second of every day, it’s exhausting, it drains you-“

“I know..” he whispers, looking at his glass, nodding his head in understanding.

“No, you don’t..” you mutter, mostly to yourself, shaking your head. He’s examining you for a second, considering if he wants to elaborate. He does.

“Sweetheart, I’m a single parent from the moment my daughter was born. Trust me when I say I know.”, he explains softly. “I get it.” His voice feels like honey to your ears.

You snap your head in his direction, shocked at his admission. He sees the cogs turning in your head, the sorrow starting to appear in your eyes and he adds with a bitter smile, “No, she didn’t die, she just left.”

Your eyes widen, unable to imagine what could have led a mother to that decision. But you immediately stop yourself. You don’t have the whole picture and it’s none of your business. You don’t get to judge. All you can say is “Fuck. That must have been hard for you.”

There’s a shift in the air, like some invisible little string connected you somehow, each of you with their own story, finding an understanding in each other.

As the conversation progresses he can’t help but wonder how did he get to that point. He was looking for a good time, maybe a blowjob or quickie in the bar’s bathroom and he ended up talking to you about his life. His daughter, his struggles. Voluntarily. And it felt good, easy, natural.

You laugh softly, out of context, shaking your head and he wants to know why. “I just-” you think again before you speak, “when you approached me I wasn’t even sure I could do that.”

“Do what?”, he asks in confusion.

“Talk to you.”, you admit.

“How do you mean?”, his brows furrow and his head tilt on one side, the edges of his mouth turning slightly upward. Stop doing that. It’s sexy.

“You know, me, sitting in a bar, talking to a stranger, it felt like I haven’t done this in forever.” It feels oddly liberating talking to him, almost like a confession.

“And how does it feel now?” he wants to know, his voice soft but commanding.

“It feels good.”, you give it to him. He makes you feel good and you want him to know.

“Good girl.”, he responds, his voice low, keeping his gaze on you, wondering how you’ll react. Oh, boy. Well, your panties are ruined. You bite your bottom lip and play along. See where it gets you. He sees that. The longing starts to become apparent on your face, in the way your lips part, your breath becomes shorter and your body subconsciously reacts to him, because you turn around in your seat, facing him fully. You clench your thighs in an effort to relieve some pressure between your legs. He sees it all.

“Although it’s a shame I didn’t get to witness you do your thing.”, you let him wonder.

His brows are raised in question, “My thing?”, he looks intrigued more than he’d like to admit. Gotcha.

“Yeah, I burdened you with my shit and I missed the chance of you flirting with me.” Someone feels ballsy. You don’t recognize yourself right now, but who cares, right?

“What makes you think I wanted to flirt with you?” he questions, almost genuinely. Almost. You freeze for a second, feeling like an idiot, but then you see him wink at you behind his raised glass.

“Right,” you drag the word, “so, you really wanted to get to know me for my striking personality”, you smile back to him.

He laughs. Genuinely. Beautifully. “Do you want me to flirt with you?” he pushes you, testing the waters. But not really. He knows he has your full attention.

“Sure, you seem like you can handle yourself.”, you answer before you overthink it and freak out.

He chuckles softly and he leans to you, right next to your flushed face, looking behind your shoulder and then down at you, his lips brushing your ear, his sparse beard tickling your cheek, one hand still on the bar and the other moving at the back of your seat, caging you. His scent invades your space, making you feel lightheaded. “Baby, you have no idea.” Your whole body is vibrating with want.

He doesn’t want to take you in the bathroom anymore.

He can see you; clearly than you can see yourself. He knows you now. He understands. He can see your path, the struggles, the challenges, the worries that lie ahead on your way. He walked that path. He bled that path. He navigates it with his eyes closed and his hands tied behind his back.

He doesn’t want to take you in the bathroom anymore.

He wants to take care of you. To breathe pleasure into you, to give you all that he abandoned for his daughter’s sake, to make you feel wanted and loved. He wants you to know that you matter to someone. That he’s gonna take his time with you, savor you, taste every inch of your body, spread you out on his bed and make you scream his name, while you tremble under his touch, his mouth, his cock.

You don’t feel like a bathroom quickie anymore. He wants more. Even if it is just for one night. Just one night. Suddenly the thought becomes unpleasant.

You turn your head to his side and search for his eyes. He responds to your plea by looking back at you. Your lips are inches apart, nearly touching. You stare at his brown, chocolaty orbs, then his plush lips, slightly open and can’t help but imagine your tongue entering his mouth, penetrating them.

You take a deep breath, preparing yourself mentally. You want to feel him any way you can, right fucking now. You want his touch, his tongue, his cock but you’ll accept whatever he’s giving you.

Get up. Get up. Get up.

You want this. You got this. You slowly exhale through your nose and you nearly press your body against his chest to stand up. Your nose almost grazes his. You look at each other, both of you full of desire.

Full of promise.

He’s curious what you’re gonna do but he’s praying you won’t do what he expects you to. Not the bathroom, not the fuckin’ bathroom, he keeps chanting internally. Lemme take care of you. You put your palm on his chest lingering for a second, “Show me, then”, you whisper in his ear and you finally make it to the bathroom. That, took every ounce of courage you had in you. Goddamn.

As you enter inside, thankfully it’s empty, you look at yourself in the mirror. You try to comprehend who are you right now, what you’re about to do. You don’t even remember how it feels to have someone else giving you pleasure. To touch you. To make you-

You hear the door opening and closing, followed by the sound of the lock. He slowly walks to you, letting you study him, through his reflection on the mirror. Giving you time to change your mind. Please change your mind. He looks so good. So good that you have to turn around and face him.

His salt and pepper hair tousled but neat at the same time, his curls above his neck making you want to tug them. Hard.

His eyes are dark, full of hunger and desire. Your eyes fall at his parted lips and then to his chiseled jawline with his sparse hair for a beard. You wanna bite every inch of it. Hard.

His frame is imposing; tall, broad, his thick forearms bulging through his black shirt, his toned thighs strained by his dark jeans. And then you see his bulge. He looks big, considerably big.

“Like what you see?”, he smiles confidently, his low timbre making you realize that you’ve been staring.

You blush in embarrassment, looking down and biting your bottom lip. He enters your comfort zone now, his hand pinching your chin between his fingers, lifting your head upward to look at him. “No need to be shy, sweetheart; I like what I see, too.”, his thumb rests lightly on your bottom lip and presses down, to free it from under your teeth.

His other hand holds your waist drawing you close to his body, his erection touching your lower stomach. You let out a small sigh.

His scent is intoxicating. It’s a mix of his fainted cologne, the smoke of cigarettes lingering in the air, the alcohol on his breath and something unique. Something his entirely. His sweat absorbed by the fabric of his clothes. The more you inhale it the wetter you get. Saliva pools in your mouth, making you swallow hard.

You squirm in your place, squeezing your legs together. He notices. Of course he notices, like he did back at the bar. Reading between your words.

He caresses your ear with his lips, whispering, “It’s ok sweetheart, I'm gonna take good care of you.” He places one hand behind your head, gently bringing you closer to him. His other one rests on your back, slowly making his way down to your ass. You look at him, surrendered to his touch. Oddly, you feel safe.

“Fuck..” you breath out.

He smiles, a little full of himself, normally it would piss you off, but right now you don’t care. He ghosts his lips along yours and he softly kisses the edge of your mouth. He places kisses along your jawline and leaves an open-mouthed kiss between your ear and your jaw. Your body shakes with goosebumps, making your knees almost buckle, his hold on your ass tightens, keeping you in place.

You can’t think of anything right now and that’s exactly what you want. Not your soon-to-be ex-husband, not your messed up life, not even the poor attempt of an outfit you wore tonight out of boredom. Plain black jeans and a lingerie black shirt. Of course with a black lacy bra under it, you’re not that adventurous.

His mouth travels to the column of your neck licking it softly from top to bottom, biting gently where it meets with your shoulder. Your cunt clenches hard, pooling more of your arousal on your already-drenched underwear. His tongue is so warm and velvety, making your eyes roll in your head. Your hands- where are your hands? One on his toned shoulder and the other on his hair, tugging his curls.

You realize that he’s softer in his touch than you would imagine for a bathroom fuck. He moves so fluidly, expertly, you feel mesmerized and a tiny part of you inexperienced and self conscious.

“I- I haven’t done this before..” you feel the need to confess, worried that you’ll do something wrong.

“I thought you had two kids.” he raises his head, tilting it, while looking at you through his lashes and bites his cheek to hide his smirk.

You stare at him for a moment and then you both burst into laughter.

You shake your head in mocking disapproval and explain, “..not the deed, the- the one-time thing..” and you bite your lip in discomfort afraid of his reaction.

His eyes are searching yours and he finally asks, “Who says this is a one-time thing?”. Bold. Surely he’s messing with you. Your breath catches on your throat, that was the last reaction you would expect. You try to read his face but he gives you nothing. You can’t figure out if he meant that or was just teasing. He nudges your nose with his, relax, baby, he whispers and he resumes his kissing path down your neck and to your chest.

He’s taking his sweet time with you. He wants to get you out of this damn bathroom. He wants to fuckin’ wreck you and he can't do that here. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable either by proposing a different setting, in case this is indeed how you want it, so he does what he knows. He’s driving you crazy. He’s gonna make you beg him to get out of here. To take you somewhere else, more comfortable. Anywhere but here. Unless someone interrupts you, making you take this elsewhere. Either way works.

You’re both panting from desire, his head moving back against yours, your foreheads touching together. He grabs the sides of your head with both his hands, while yours move around his waist, pulling him as close as possible. He’s going to finally kiss you, your lips almost touching each other’s, breathing one another’s exhale.

A loud knock on the door startles you and you jump in place. “Come on, man! Are you done yet?” The stranger smiles against your lips, pleased with his plan. He’s so ready to take you out of here, worship you like you deserve.

But the spell is broken. You come back to your senses. You’re in a dirty bathroom. With a total stranger. A handsome, funny, sexy stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. What are you doing? This is not you. This is not how you do things. You have two kids back home waiting for you. You try to shake the thought out of your mind. You are a woman, too. You have needs. Needs that this man can meet with ease. No, there are people outside, waiting to use the bathroom. How are you gonna get out of here? Everyone will know what you’ve done. What are you doing?

The man detects your stiffness, the change in your breathing. You’re starting to hyperventilate. “Hey, hey, are you ok?”.

Your brain is overwhelmed, you don’t know how to respond. The knocking on the door gets louder now, more insistent.

“Give me a goddamn minute!”, the man shouts behind his back. His attention returns to you, full of concern, talking to you like all the time in the world is yours, like nothing else matters. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? You wanna get out of here?”, his hands are still on the sides of your head, his eyes full of worry now.

“I- I need-” your breathing is getting harder and harder. “I’m sorry, I need to get out of here, I-” you push his hands away from your face.

He lets you, raising his hands in surrender. “Ok, ok darlin’, my truck is parked just outside, let me-”

“NO- No,” you don’t let him finish his thought, “I’ll leave on my own, I’m sorry, I can’t-” you just want to disappear, you know how you must sound and look but it’s out of your control.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that darlin’, I just wanna make sure you’re safe-”. But you’re not listening to what he’s saying to you, not really.

He wants to touch you again, hold you, make you feel safe. Protected. He wants you- no, needs you to know that it’s ok.

But he’s a stranger to you, so he resists the urge.

You walk away from him, unlock the door, open it forcefully and burst out of the bathroom, looking down. You don’t want to meet the eyes of the intruder outside the door. Any eye contact would make you feel vulnerable right now, exposed. With your head down you reach for your bag and jacket left on the stool you were sitting on, -what were you thinking, you could have been mugged- and you run to the exit door.

The man is right behind you, searching for you in the packed bar. You grab the handle, you open the door and you stand still for a moment turning your head to look at him one last time.

His eyes catch the door movement and his gaze locks with yours. His expression is sad and worried, not an ounce of anger or disapproval.

I don’t even know your name, you think with sadness.

He’s making a move to come after you but then you let yourself out of the bar. The stranger doesn’t have time but to whisper “I don’t even know your name..”

ONE WEEK LATER

You’re looking yourself in the mirror while you’re getting ready for dinner. Trish wants to introduce you to her cousins; although you and her are best friends, you never got to meet them. Maybe because you both lived out of Texas, before. She came back not so long ago, you followed to get your life back. Now that you’re living with her, she wants the four of you to hang out. She says they’re great guys. Joel and Tommy. Whatever.

You’re looking harder in the mirror now, searching for any sign to indicate what happened a few days ago at that god’s forsaken bar was real. A bruise, a bite, a redness, anything. But there’s nothing. Like he didn’t want to leave a trace. Like he was a figment of your imagination.

Half of you wants to forget about him, half of you is hanging on tight on every little detail you can recall of that night.

Of him.

His deep voice, the warmth of his eyes, his smart smile, the way he put your body on fire with minimum touch. You wish he would have fucked you hard and fast against the sink, before you had time to overthink, before you became a coward, to leave you with something more to remember him by.

You still feel the burn between your legs every time you think about him. And as many times as you tried to extinguish this fire inside you, with your fingers, or your pillow, or your vibrator, it just. Isn’t. Enough.

Just- get him out of your head, you force your mind. You don’t even know his name. You spilled your guts to him, almost fucked him and you don’t even got his name. Who does that?

Well, he didn’t get your name either, but obviously that was not the same. He looked like he knew what he was doing and if he does it that often, at the end of the day what does another name matter?

Joel is grabbing his wallet and cellphone off the console next to the door yelling to Tommy and Sarah, “Guys, you’re coming yet? We’re gonna be late, Trish is gonna be all over us, come on.”

Tommy and Sarah pause the movie they’re watching with an audible groan and emerge from the living room, putting their shoes on. “What is tonight about, again?” Tommy asks in boredom.

“Uh, not really sure, we’re gonna have dinner together and some lady friend of Trish is gonna be there, I think she’s letting her stay with her for a while.” Joel mutters.

“Oh, a lady friend,” Tommy insists, winking his eye to Sarah and she rolls her eyes to him. “Is she hot or what?”.

Joel glares at Tommy “Don’t know, don’t care Tommy, I think she’s got kids or something. Take the toolbox to the truck to fix the bathroom cabinet since we’re going.”

Tommy looks disappointed “Damn, not my cup of tea, then.”

“You and me both.” Joel sighs through his teeth. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

You hear the doorbell ring and you check on the girls before you make your way downstairs. They’re asleep on their beds. You can finally relax. You hear Trish calling you, “Hey, babe, they’re here!” As you go down the stairs you see a handsome man with dark curls entering the hallway along with a young woman in her twenties.

“Heeeey, you’re here!!” Trish sounds so exited. “Hey cousin, it’s been a while!” Tommy responds, hugging her with one arm around her waist. Sarah takes her turn hugging her aunt in silence and with a warm smile.

Then the three of them turn to the sound of your feet on the stairs. “And that’s my friend I was telling you about!” Trish introduces you by name and you approach Tommy and Sarah to handshake them.

When you look at Tommy’s face from a closer distance he seems familiar to you in a strange way, but you don’t give it any more thought. He looks like someone who likes what he sees, judging by the flirty smile he gives you. “Hi, darlin’, nice to meet you!”, is his first response to you. You smile politely “ You, too!”

You turn your attention to the young lady then, Tommy’s eyes still linger a little too long for your liking. Not because he’s not easy on the eyes, far from it. You’re simply not ready for that. And you proved that to yourself last week. You let the most handsome stranger you’ve ever met, slip through your fingers. You didn’t even got his name.

Idiot.

Jesus Christ, not now, let him go, focus. “Hello Sarah, I’ve heard a lot about you, it’s nice to put a face to the stories!”.

Sarah laughs, glaring at Trish “I bet the stories are really funny! I only hope my aunt exposed herself, too, in the process!”

You give Sarah a one-sided smirk, looking at her conspiratorially, “Well, you know Trish, she’s never holding back!”, you all laugh vividly.

You already feel more relaxed, Tommy and Sarah seem so nice, easy going, it will be great to make new friends. Trish was right for wanting you to meet them so soon after you arrived here.

It brings an air of normalcy, it feels like, although slowly and fucking painfully, your life takes an actual.. shape. You’re here. You exist. You are being seen as a living human being. You are talked to, admired, cared for, building a circle of people in your life, each one with their own place and role in your heart. And that means you’re trying. You’re not giving up, you’re moving forward, for you, for your children most importantly. These thoughts create a warmth inside you, a sense of hope that everything’s going to be ok.

And then it happens.

His voice is the first thing you register as he makes his presence known. “Goddamnit Tommy, I asked you for one thing before we leave the house. One.”, he addresses his brother from a distance. “Of course I have to remember everything myself.”, he mutters to himself, shaking his head disapprovingly.

The hair on the back of your neck is rising. You could recognize his voice among thousands. But that couldn’t be right. It can’t be. There is no way the voice will match the face. So, you turn your head to the entrance.

First, you see his boots going up the stairs of the porch, next your eyes land on his lower and then upper body, fit thighs, covered in dark jeans, thin waist hugged by a black belt, broad torso clothed in a black t-shirt and a green flannel. You don’t consciously recognize what -or who- you see yet, but your heartbeat spikes and your breathing becomes quicker.

You look further up, his head is tilted down, he’s trying to put his car keys in his front jean pocket, the salt and pepper curls looking oddly familiar.

And then he raises his head.

It’s instant.

Your heart skips a beat, your breath catches on your throat, your mouth goes dry, you stomach clenches, your body feels on fire. Even your fingertips feel numb. Your mind floods you with memories of him.

His scent, his touch, the need he awakened inside you. His gaze locks with yours, like that night, stopping him in his tracks, right before the entrance of the house, both of you unable to look anywhere else. He keeps staring at your face, fearing that if he so much as roams his eyes to the rest of you, you’ll disappear.

You can’t quite read his expression, he looks- well he looks hot- but apart from that, he seems surprised, disturbed, almost.. pained?

Somewhere from behind you, you hear “Uuuuh, and this sunshine, is my brother, Joel.”

Joel.

| next

325 notes · View notes

bellarkeselection · 9 months

Note

as a chandler ask!

maybe something like in the show with rachel and ross where they were watching the tapes and found out the ross liked rachel but with chandler and fem! reader??

The Video Tape Confession

Everybody was sitting around the apartment watching tv while it was raining heavily outside meaning nobody felt like doing anything. I was sitting in the middle of the couch with Phoebe and Chandler on either side of me. Rachel was sitting on the floor rummaging around in one of the cabinets underneath the tv. “Hey what’s this tape?”

“Huh I’m not sure. Let’s play it and see.” Monica replied taking the tape from her putting it inside the video player on the tv.

The video starts playing on the screen showing me, Rachel and Monica sitting in Monica’s bedroom with her parents recording whatever we were doing. I didn’t really remember the night until Rachel bounced on the bed. “So Y/n do you have any guys your interested in. Prom is only a few weeks away.”

“Oh I don’t have anyone in mind.” I shrugged my shoulders on the tape.

Monica tilled her head. “Hang on your lying. You avoid eye contact and bite your lip when you do.”

“I do not!” I snapped back at her.

She pushed me almost off the bed and onto the floor. “Just tell us. We won’t tell anybody.”

“Okay we’ll there is this one guy but he’s in college. So I doubt he and I would be able to end up together.” Myself on the camera said while I flipped back on the bed covering my face with my hands.

Joey who was sitting in the armchair asked. “Who was the guy?”

“Ross, didn’t say you needed help moving some stuff in your apartment. I can help with that.” I changed the subject getting up to my feet with Ross standing in the kitchen grabbing a snack.

Phebe gasped pointing her index finger. “She’s avoiding the video now. She’s embarrassed of who’s name she said is on the tape.”

“Now we have to watch it.” Chandler declared clapsing his hands together in his lap.

Running my fingers through my hair I watched the video in honor not wanting anyone especially a certain person to know. Chandler focused his attention on the tv while my face turned red hearing the words come out on the recording. “What’s the guys name?”

“His name is Chandler, Chandler Bing.” I answered Monica’s question nervously.

Everybody turned their heads in shock and awe after hearing the words. I sunk down into the couch covering my red face with my hands groaning in embarrassment. “How didn’t we remember this?” Rachel gasped.

“Chandler did you have any idea?” Ross asked taking a bite out of his sandwich suprised that he didn’t have any idea about this.

Chandler slowly turned around on the couch chuckling nervously. “I had no idea I am just a guy despite for love but I will most likely die alone.”

“I’m gonna go.” I bolted up to my feet so ready to just by myself for the rest of the evening. I couldn’t face the possibility of hearing him say he didn’t feel the same way. Honestly I can’t believe that tape even still exists. I thought Monica and Ross’s parents has gotten rid of it.

Chandler bolted to his feet. “Y/n, wait.”

“What is it, Chandler. I really don’t want to hear that you don’t feel-“ He cut me off quickly cupping my face in his hands and crashing his lips down onto mine since I was shorter than he was.

My hands froze on his chest for a moment. I couldn’t believe it but it was too hard to resist. Throwing my arms around his neck I pressed myself further against him. “I would have told you how I felt sooner if I knew you felt the same.” He admitted making me chuckle.

“See everybody finds their partner with these videos.” Phebe grinned brightly.

Comments really appreciated ❤️ Tags @lover-of-books-and-tea @rosie-posie08

#chandler bing forever #chandler bing #chandler bing x reader #chandler bing imagine #chandler bing icons #mathew perry #friends series #friends show #friends x reader #friends sitcom #ask box is open for anything #comments really appreciated

326 notes · View notes

milfsloverblog · 1 year

Text

I Need You (NSFW)

Jan Stevens x fem!reader

A/N: What can I say? Jan Stevens is my babygirl, I need her to be happy and loved like she deserves (fuck you Billy). Hope you’ll enjoy this (very much) self indulgent fanfic. <3

It’s no secret that Jan Stevens knows how to organise the best orgies, no secret at all. If there is one thing she won’t do, though, it’s partaking in them. She sometimes sat down in the armchair in the corner of the room and watched as naked limbs entangled together, moans filling the institute, but even that was rare. So, partaking? No, never. Not with the residents, she knew it would be highly unprofessional. She would never.

Or at least she thought. Because when you arrived at the Sonic Catering Institute a couple of months ago, Jan Stevens’ convictions had slightly faltered.

She had watched your first performance from the back of the crowd, how hard you poured your heart and soul into your art. And as she watched your trembling form stand there as the crowd applauded, blood splattered all over your naked body, Jan Stevens’ professionalism had gone out of the window. From that day on, she made sure to attend every orgy you would partake in. She would sit on the armchair in the corner of the room, face impassive as the scene unfolded before her eyes.

You could feel Jan’s stare digging holes into your body as a fellow resident’s hands glided on your skin. You always tried your best not to stare back at her, and it was torture to know that she was just a couple of feet away, that you could probably graze the fabric of her skirt with your fingertips if you only reached for her.

And when you closed your eyes, losing yourself in the mess of moans around you and the caresses on your body, all you could think about was her. How it would feel if the head between your legs was hers, if it was her mouth sucking on your clit and her fingers curling inside your cunt. All you could think about was her.

Oh, Jan Stevens.

You were thrown over the edge so hard that you didn’t even realise her name slipped from your mouth as you climaxed. But it wasn’t lost on Jan. She’d hear her name being called a dozen times a day around the institute, and even if it had been barely audible, she clearly read it on your lips.

Jan Stevens’ face twitched and she was on her feet in less than a second. She needed to get out. Out of the room, out of the institute, and most importantly out of that silly shirt that made it so hard to breathe at that precise moment.

She crossed the garden from the institute to her house in a few long strides, the heels of her stilettos digging into the damp mud.

Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of her shirt which she sent flying through the hallway, and by the time she’d reached her bedroom Jan was left in nothing but her long black skirt and her nude bra.

The woman sat down at her dressing table and faced her reflection in the mirror, watching the way her face twitched and how her lips wobbled. Don’t you dare, she thought.

She couldn’t, she would not allow herself to feel these things again. Not after the fiasco that Billy had been and how long it had taken her to stitch the broken pieces of her heart back together.

Jan was reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra when she heard the bell ring and her head snapped to her bedroom door. No one ever came to her house, everyone knew it was off-limit unless they were actually invited.

You had left the orgy a few minutes after Jan, when you’d come down from your high and realised what had just happened. You gathered your clothes and quickly got dressed as you hurried down the institute’s corridors, hoping to catch the tall woman on her way back to her house. You were pretty sure your panties were on backward and your silk shirt was misbuttoned but you couldn’t have cared less, you needed to see her.

You waited for five long minutes after ringing the bell, knowing full well Jan was inside. You could have tried ringing again but something told you that it would be useless, the woman wouldn’t open.

Your eyebrows shot up when you tried the handle and the door was pushed open. One would think Jan Stevens would be more careful with her safety, after all, there were people out there who wanted to see her dead.

“Miss Stevens?” You called as you walked inside the hallway and made your way inside the house, your body startling when the light was suddenly turned on.

“What do you think you are doing exactly?” Jan asked as she stood only a few feet away from you with her hands on her hips.

“Miss Stevens, I’m very, very sorry to disturb you. I know the residents aren’t supposed to enter your house but-“ your voice died in your throat when you finally registered that she was wearing nothing but her bra and skirt.

God, she was a vision. Milky white skin peppered with constellations of freckles, small breasts clad in nude fabric. You wanted to reach for her, now more than ever before.

“Did you…Think of me?” The woman asked, your eyes snapping right back to her face.

“I’m sorry?” You frowned and shook your head a little, unsure what she meant.

“During the orgy,” She said as she took a step closer, then another one. “You moaned my name, I heard you. Were you thinking of me or was that a way to mock me?”

Your frown deepened, why on earth would you want to mock her? Why would anyone do that?

“Yes, yes I was thinking of you. It’s hard not to do so when you’re sitting so close to me and staring. I know it’s inappropriate. It’s highly unprofessional and-“ Your rambling was interrupted by a hand cupping your cheek and lips crashing onto yours.

You melted into the kiss, your hands coming to tightly hold onto Jan’s waist when you felt your knees wobbling dangerously. The urgency in her kiss struck you like a slap to the face. How long had she been wanting to do this?

When she finally pulled away, her red lipstick was smudged up to her nose and you were pretty sure the bottom half of your face was covered in it too. And it made you laugh, which in turn made her laugh too, and you decided that her unabashedly loud laugh would be your favourite sound from that moment on.

“I need you.” Jan Stevens admitted in a whisper. “I’ve been thinking about you ever since I first met you. And I know I need to be professional but I can’t stop thinking about you…And now I know you feel the same about me.”

The way she said it dripped with softness, but there was something else there too. Jan Stevens was scared, she was insecure. You could tell by the way her big blue eyes searched for an answer in yours. And you couldn’t help but curse the imbecile that came before you and did this to her.

“Let me take care of you.” You simply answered, pressing your lips on hers once more.

She led you to her bedroom without ever breaking the kiss, her hands making quick work of unbuttoning your shirt and letting it fall to the floor in the corridor without much care.

She barely had time to step inside the room that you already had her pressed against the wall, making her whine when you pulled away from her lips to catch your breath.

“I need you too.” You groaned when your hand bunched up her skirt. And it was true. You needed her, she was all your heart and soul were craving. You needed to hear your name fall from her lips like hers had fallen from yours.

You planted a trail of soft kisses from her pulse point to her shoulder, taking pride in the goosebumps that appeared on the older woman’s skin and the small whimper that she let out.

Your hand found its way inside Jan’s underwear and her hips bucked as soon as your fingertip grazed her clit.

“Needy woman.” You whispered in her ear, eliciting another whimper as well as another thrust of her hips.

You stifled a moan when your fingers slid between her folds only to find her drenched already. She looked at you through hooded eyes, a faint smile pulling the corner of her lips.

You delved two fingers inside her sex, parting her slick walls with a delicious pressure.

Breathy moans filled the air as your speed picked up, your fingers pumping into her cunt faster than her languid mind could keep up with. You slid in and out of her in quick motions, drawing her arousal down your knuckles and onto her inner thighs.

You wished you could capture her face at that moment, head thrown back, eyes half closed and mouth agape.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. Taking me so well.” You praised her and felt her walls clenching around your fingers. Oh, Jan Stevens had a praise kink then.

“Is that what you want? For me to tell you how good you are? How well you’re taking my fingers?” You grunted and curled your digits inside her, quickly finding the spongey spot you were looking for.

“You need to be worshipped, don’t you?” Your free hand joined the other one between the woman’s legs to draw quick circles on her clit.

The tightness that had been building inside Jan’s core became almost unbearable, and with a couple more thrusts it eventually snapped, throwing the tall woman over the edge. You closed your eyes as she cried your name out, your heart swelling in your chest.

You moved your hand to grab onto her waist, holding her up and keeping her from sinking onto her knees while your fingers slowed inside her. You eventually pulled them out and slipped them into your mouth, moaning as the taste of her settled on your tongue.

“Don’t go.” Was all Jan Stevens said once she had come down from her high.

“I won’t, I promise I won't.” You answered, watching the worry instantly leave her blue eyes.

How could I ever go, you think as Jan lay in your arms, the fabric of her bunny pyjamas rubbing on your naked skin with each movement of her sleeping form.

How could I ever go?

#gwendoline christie #jan stevens #jan stevens x reader #flux gourmet #member of the official Jan Stevens’ lover club #no beta we die like…Miranda?

547 notes · View notes