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miupow · 3 months

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Just Like Magic! | K. TH

“𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩.” -Blaise Pascal

❝You're a novice witch in love with her mentor, something frowned upon and taboo, especially when it comes to magick; but you just can't help it, Taehyun is simply too talented and handsome! you're content with admiring from afar... but when you get ahold of an ancient spellbook with a recipe for a curious potion, your curiosity takes over.❞

✦ PAIRING: warlock!kang taehyun x witch!fem!reader ✦ RATING: NSFW, MDNI! ✦ WORDS: 6.8k ✦ WARNINGS: smut, dom!taehyun, sub!reader, fantasy au, dubcon elements, aphrodisiacs, oral sex (f. and m. rec), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, wet dreams, f2?, power imbalance, powerplay, name calling, degradation kink, rough sex ✦ A/N: this is not proofread! inspired by an ask from @napofamoon~~ your brain is so huge and i love it so much, so happy to be mooties w you :3

taglist: @wintertxt , @boba-beom , @wolfytae-exe , @takemehye , @naomiarai , @mapofthemazeinthemirror , @bunnie-hq , @doumachi , @numxra , @soobinsbuns , @taegimood , @jeniihss , @soobabby , @hhoneylix , @beargyuuzz , @fullbodyblankets , @xenkimmie, @ttaesoob , @shinyngirl , @lxnoluvr , @blxxsss , @ode2soob, @beom-gyubears, @ashiixari, @lurking-coconut , @horanghaelovr , @yyeonzi , @paegesoobin , @nightlyhyuka, @i814hue, @f4iryfever

Taehyun had warned you that this witch was a bit of a hoarder, but nothing could have prepared you for the marvel that was her cottage; from the floor to the ceiling old and rickety bookcases flanked every possible open space, packed to the brim with every book you could have possibly thought of, accompanied by all sorts of trinkets, herbs and crystals-- your eyes scanned over the washed-out spines, fading ink hardly legible on most of them; A Hundred and One Ways To Use Fairy Dust. Potionmaking for the Hearth and Home. The Greater Area Magickal Beast Encyclopedia. Simple Charms For Everyday Life. "Hey, Taehyun, look at this!" you called over your shoulder, already anticipating your mentor's irritated sigh. "There's a book all about magical mushrooms, wouldn't that help us with this stupid assignment we're on--?"

You reach out for the battered green textbook but Taehyun's quick to slap your hand away, brow furrowed over his big brown eyes-- he was cute when he was angry, and you delighted in annoying him to his wit's end. "I said don’t touch anything; Don’t make me look like a fool when we're only here for ingredients. And we're here on the behalf of the Crown, thank you, nothing about this is stupid. You're being childish."

"He's made us travel half across the kingdom for a fancy cologne, essentially. I think it's a little silly." you retort under your breath. Taehyun turns away from you sharply with an angry huff, and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from grinning.

"It's a luck spell, not a cologne. Don't you want our Prince to succeed at his first banquet?"

"He just wants it for all of the girls that will be there," you laugh. "You and I both know this has nothing to do with his royal duties and everything to do with his flirting skills."

"And that's none of our business." Taehyun answers curtly, though the tick in his jaw shows you that you've struck a nerve-- your mentor had known the crown prince his entire life, grown up with him, and while he cared about him like a brother the Prince also never failed to irk him (and you) with the most outlandish requests. "We're just doing our jobs. Now stay here and keep your hands to yourself, understand? Don't go anywhere, don't touch anything, and I'll be back shortly. I just need to get these mushrooms from the herbalist."

“Why can’t I go with you?” You pout. “You always make me stay behind.”

“Just do as I say.” Taehyun snips, jaw clenching as he begins to walk away.

"Yes, sir." You reply, rolling your eyes at Taehyun's retreating head.

"Good girl," He replies over his shoulder, curt and clipped. An all-too-familiar heat rushes to your cheeks at his words. You used to hate it when he addressed you like that.

You hardly ever listened to what Taehyun told you anyway, so you were quick to continue browsing through the countless shelves once your mentor was out of sight-- you couldn't pass up an opportunity to surround yourselves with the things you loved most; spellbooks. After spending a childhood surrounded by those who hated the craft, your fearful family forbidding you from ever practicing the natural talents you had been born with… you couldn't get enough of reading anything you possibly could. Besides, Taehyun just adored leaving you behind like some squire, never including you in any of his duties– you had to learn for yourself one way or another.

You tip-toed your way through the winding labyrinth of bookshelves, eager fingers and eager eyes analyzing every tome, scanning any title that piqued your interest. It all seemed to be standard fare, however, things that you had read and studied before, so you left them unbothered on the shelves… except…

You had glanced right over it initially, gold title too weathered and faded to read, but its cracked leather cover kept calling to you as you continued down the shelves, making you turn around and walk back to its spot nestled in-between two much larger tomes. Dust stuck to the pad of your finger when you ran it down the book's spine, marveled at the purple cover-- most of the cottage's windows were covered up by all of the piled-on clutter inside, keeping everything veiled in comfortable shade, but cracks and beams of the bright, warm sunshine seeped through and caught the little book in the most mystifying shimmer. You'd never known leather to shine like that, like little crystals embedded into the fabric. Your curiosity gets the better of you; without much self restraint, you pull the small book down in a cloud of dust, tickling your lungs-- you resist the urge to cough the best you possibly could, lest you alert Taehyun or, Gods forbid, the owner of this cottage. You managed a strangled little wheeze instead.

You turn the book around in your hands, inspecting it's cover from all angles; there's nothing on the back, just smooth, purple-ish leather, and the writing on the spine is illegible, but the title is still bold and striking on the front. In careful, hand-written penmanship the words "Love Magick" were written, nothing else. No author's name, no description-- you should just put the book back and carry on, keep yourself out of trouble, but you just couldn’t help from cracking open the pages.

"What an interesting little spellbook you picked, that one." a withered old voice creeps from over your shoulder. "Wouldn't have been my first choice."

You yelp, fumbling, rushing to shove the book back on the shelf-- the old woman behind you laughs, bright and cheerful, and a spindly wrinkled hand comes to pat you on the shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't-- I mean, I wasn't--!"

"Oh, don't apologize now, dearie. Books were made to be read, after all." She snatches the little spellbook out of your hands, catching you off guard, and takes a hold of the small crystal bifocals that hang around her thin swan neck on a beaded chain. You gaze at her quizzically, taking in her odd appearance; several large gold rings adorn her crooked fingers, matching the gaudy bauble earrings hanging from her ears, so large they made her short, thin frame even frailer-- swathed in a shapeless, faded periwinkle dress that had leaves caught in the hem, grey hair frazzled and reaching up towards the sky, she glittered just as brightly as the spellbook did. She moves the little glasses up to perch on her hooked nose, squinting deeply at the cover of the book, and it took a few moments of perplexed investigation before her wrinkled and sun-spotted face lit up in recognition. "Ah, I remember this one! I haven't looked at these pages in quite some time."

You supposed this must be the herbalist, but you distinctly remember Taehyun describing her as much younger than the woman standing before you. "I'm sorry, madam," You apologize again, twisting your hands together nervously. "I wasn't snooping around, I promise--!"

"Don't lie, now." The old woman chuckles, tracing one long and painted red fingernail over the book's cover. "You were snooping. But that's quite alright, a little curiosity is good for the soul."

You blink owlishly.

"You know, this is one of the rarest books on these shelves," she continues, beady eyes looking upwards to regard her enormous collection. "I've been here for a very long time, and I have many, many books, but there is only one of these little books right here."

"Only one?" You ask quietly, giving the spellbook a wide-eyed stare. It twinkled back at you like it was winking. "Why is that?"

"Why, because I wrote it, of course!" She smiles, flipping quickly through the yellowed pages, regarding them like old friends-- you supposed that they were, in a way. "Many, many years ago. It's nothing fancy, darling, just some home recipes. You can take it if you'd like, I'm far too old for this kind of spellwork now. I think you'd have much more use for it anyway.”

"What, really?" Trying not to seem too eager, you take the book back when she hands it to you, run your fingertips across the title. "What do you mean? I couldn't possibly take this, ma'am--"

"I saw the way you were looking at that handsome wizard you came with, you know. You're ever so obvious." the old woman giggles, her deep set eyes twinkling with mirth. "I remember being young and in love… magick could always help with that, you know."

You squeak and flush hot, head whipping around to make sure no one else was near-- if Taehyun heard any part of this conversation, you'd never be able to look him in the eyes again. "No, it isn't like that! He's my mentor, that's all!" And that's all it will ever be, you thought sadly. Nothing more, nothing less.

"If that's what you would like to believe…" The old woman shrugs, a smile still gracing her wrinkled face. "But I insist, take it. It was calling for you, dearie… it told me itself! Now hurry along before we both get in trouble--"

"Grandma!" another unfamiliar voice calls, a pretty young witch twisting her way through the bookcases to approach you and the old woman. Taehyun followed her with a covered basket nestled in his arms; the ingredients that you had come here for, you presumed. You shove the book haphazardly into your satchel, praying neither of them had noticed anything amiss. Taehyun had irritatingly sharp eyes. "Grandma, I thought I told you to stay in the garden!"

"I was just talking to this lovely young lady here," The old woman-- the Madam's grandmother-- replied brightly, briskly hobbling over to the young witch's side. "You know old hags like me never listen."

"You're not a hag, Grandma, don't say that… I'm sorry about her, she's gotten a little wild in her old age." The Madam sighs, intertwining her arm with her grandmother's. The old woman seemed to find this entire ordeal incredibly amusing. "You're both free to leave now, thank you for your patience. I hope those mushrooms serve the Prince well."

"Thank you, Madam," Taehyun bows, always so polite. He turns and begins to walk to the cottage door, motioning with his fingers for you to follow-- you scramble after him like a lost puppy.

"I like him," You hear the old woman say as the two of you depart.

You had walked to the cottage and therefore had to walk back to your shared hut on castle grounds; you had spent the entire time getting there complaining, but now you followed Taehyun quietly and with your head down as you both trekked through the trees. "You're awfully quiet." Taehyun remarks casually, turning his head to regard you with an unreadable expression. "What are you thinking about?"

"Oh, nothing." You reply, maybe a little too quickly. Taehyun raises an eyebrow. "Just thinking is all."

It felt as though there was a hole burning through your satchel.

You waited until late that night to finally take a proper look at your new spellbook, having shoved it haphazardly under your pillow when you and Taehyun had finally returned home-- only after you had triple-checked that your mentor was sound asleep did you feel comfortable enough to pull it out and read it. Certainly you were making it a much bigger deal than it needed to be, it was just a book after all… but something about it and what lied in it's pages felt forbidden and sacred to you, something that you should keep hidden from Taehyun, his condescending smirk, and his prying eyes.

Maybe he would get the wrong idea, quite like the old woman. You had no intention of using any of these spells on him.

Holding the candle you kept by your bedside for light, you took in the spellbook's cover once again. Its deep purple color was faded and washed out, dusty and dirty and ages old, yet it was even more beautiful in the moonlight. The night sky shone through an open window near your bed, catching the cover like little stars captured and woven into the leather… You could never place it inconspicuously on Taehyun's bookshelf, amongst his boring canvas-wrapped manuals and journals. You could never place it anywhere where he could possibly find it at all; it was far too brilliant, too eye-catching. You would simply have to keep it tucked away in the safety of your bedroom.

You crack open the book, it's spine cracking from disuse. Instead of a proper book, like you had expected, your eyes met the pages of what seemed to be a journal; pages and pages of messy scribbles and notes, crammed on small pieces of twine-bound parchment, recipes and spell incantations and notes about any spellcasting ingredient you could possibly think of. There were even diary entries among the notes, meandering paragraphs about that old woman's personal life many years ago… No organization, no cohesiveness, just pretty cursive words muddled together and jumbled on top of each other in a confusing mess… It was endearing, an insight into her youth, and you adored every page.

And then you saw it. Halfway through the journal, tucked away between two uninteresting diary entries, you discovered a folded up and torn out page. With careful fingers you picked it up and peeled it open, casting the spellbook aside for now-- and to your surprise you were confronted with the recipe for a love potion.

Simple but Powerful Love Potion

Ingredients:

-2 quarts of standard potion base; fresh moonwater charged under the full moon

-a large handful of dried rose petals and a single thorn, ground in a mortar and pestal to the consistency of a fine powder.

-a small spoonful of crushed siren scales

-one large mother of pearl

-2 small sticks of Licorice root

-a few strands of unicorn mane hair

-a single droplet of pure love

Directions:

Over a burner, prepare the moonwater in a small pewter cauldron, keeping it away from sunlight. Bring the base to a boil before adding the licorice root and mother of pearl, and then lower the heat and leave the potion to simmer overnight. The next day, add the crushed rose petals and thorn, unicorn hair, and siren scales. Stir clockwise until the potion turns a bright pink, and then leave to sit for another night. Last, add the droplet of love, give one clockwise stir, and your potion is complete.

P.S. Please use sparingly, a little goes a long way! Perfect for stupid men who won't take a hint.

You stare at the paper in disbelief. Is this what the old woman meant by you making "good use" of her spellbook? Surely not! She was a woman of the craft, she knew as well as you did that any romance between apprentice and mentor was looked down upon, not to mention when it was aided by magickal intervention… The herbalist must have truly been telling the truth when she said her grandmother had started to go mad! You couldn't even fathom the consequences if you were caught doing anything of this sort-- you'd be stripped of your titles, expelled from your studies, exiled even… and Taehyun…

Taehyun would never forgive you. He'd be disgusted by you.

You shove the recipe back into the book and shut it with a dull snap, toss it away from you like it was poised to attack; you hated yourself for entertaining the thought for even a second. Taehyun wasn't just your mentor and your crush, but your friend, and you couldn't possibly do that to him! He trusted you, with his pretty dark eyes and his cocky smirk, and his big, warm, veiny hands with thick calloused fingers that rested on your lower back when you were nervous in public and needed comfort. His thick arms with muscles that bulged out of his tunic sleeves when he rolled them up, his sharp teeth that he liked to bare when he sneered. His gentle, soothing voice and his never ending generosity and politeness that were a pinnacle of him even when he was one of the most stuck up people you could think of. You couldn't ever do anything like that to him, even if you died a little bit inside every day that he never seemed to glance your way.

But… you thought, reaching back over to the discarded spellbook with a shaking hand, it wouldn't hurt to re-read the recipe, just in case.

"Taehyunnie?" You ask sweetly, peeking your head into his study. "Can I ask you something real quick?"

Gathering most of the ingredients had been relatively easy. If anything, you were caught off guard by the ease in which you put together your secret potion, hidden and bubbling away in the safety of your bedroom, a place Taehyun never dared to enter. You snuck to and from Taehyun's packed pantries whenever he was sleeping, prepared everything exactly as the recipe had stated-- you had never made a potion before, but you had a fairly good feeling that you were doing a fine job. Most of the ingredients were common potionmaking faire anyway, things you had observed Taehyun fiddling around with in the past, things you had on hand and the basic knowledge needed to prepare… except for one small detail.

Your potion sat simmering a pretty opaque pink, which meant it was ready for that little "drop of love" the recipe called for, and then it would finally be done… but you could not for the life of you understand what that could even mean. How in the world could you possibly get your hands on a droplet of materialized love? Was that even possible?

Taehyun looked up from the book he was reading with an annoyed sigh, hooded eyes searching the room before landing onto yours with a quirked brow. You never bothered him when he was studying, and you most certainly never called him 'Taehyunnie'. Not unless you were trying to weasel something out of him, at least. "Yes?" He drawled, returning back to his reading as you tiptoed closer, took a curious look over his shoulder; you caught snippets of something about astronomy and equations, the pages mostly filled with numbers and symbols you couldn't even pretend to understand. You wondered if it had anything to do with the Prince again.

"I was doing some reading…" you begin slowly, scattered mind racing to come up with a proper preface for your question. You had practiced what you were going to say at least a dozen times, you were sure of it, but every line had fled your head the moment you called Taehyun's name.

"'Reading?' That's not like you." Taehyun retorted with a snort, turning the page. He didn’t even bother to look up when you huffed in response, but you could see his grin hidden behind the hand he rested on his cheek.

"I read plenty!" you bark, taking the bait, but regain your composure when you catch a glimpse of Taehyun's smirk widening. "It’s for my studies-- I'm to be tested by the Magickal High Court soon, you know."

"I'm well aware. I’m sure you’ll do just fine." Taehyun responds tersely, picking up his quill and scribbling a note down into his journal. He must have felt your eyes glaring daggers at the back of his head, because he waved a dismissive hand at you. "But go on."

"Well… I was reading up on potions and I came across an ingredient I haven't heard about before. I was wondering if… if you knew anything about it."

Taehyun's quill stopped moving. "I see." he says, far too cryptically for your liking. "Well, what is it? It’s getting dark— it’s about time you go to bed.”

“The recipe– I mean, the spellbook I was reading mentioned something about a ‘droplet of love.’” You stumble, fidgeting nervously. “ Do you know what that is?”

Taehyun doesn’t say anything for a moment,stares down at his spellbook long enough to make you sweat, before turning to re-dip his quill in his inkpot. “Well, that could mean many things.” he says, uninterested, continuing his notes. You let out a relieved sigh you weren’t aware you were holding.

“What do you mean?” you prod gently.

Taehyun lets out an irritated sigh. “Some spellwork can be left up to interpretation, made unique and personalized for the spellcaster. Often when instructions are not clear, it's because you're supposed to figure it out yourself.”

“Figure it out myself?” You echo, a little outraged. This explanation wasn’t helping you at all.

“When practicing magick that involves complex ideas like emotions and memories, things begin to blur between the literal and the figurative.” Taehyun elaborates. The way he was hunched over his desk made his shoulders look much broader than they were, and it was getting increasingly harder to focus on what he was saying. “More advanced spellwork sometimes requires the spellcaster to work with physical manifestations of these ideas.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” You retort combatively, crossing your arms over your chest. Taehyun’s non-answers were only serving to piss you off. “I can’t manifest love.”

“Sure you can.” Taehyun answers vaguely, shaking his head. You wished you could see the look on his face. “A ‘droplet of love" may just refer to some sort of representation, whatever that may mean to you specifically. Though "droplet" tends to refer to some kind of liquid, so you can start there.”

“Liquified love? What would that be, though?”

"Honestly, I'm not exactly sure either. But you're a smart girl, I'm sure you can figure it out." Taehyun once again raises his hand to wave you away. “Go off to bed now, you can spend all of tomorrow thinking about it if you have to; I need to finish this before I go to bed, and you’re keeping me up.”

“But–”

“Go to bed. Don’t misbehave now.” Taehyun looks up from his notes and meets your gaze– the look on his face is as unreadable and stoic as usual, plush lips stretched into a thin line, but the swirling darkness in his eyes makes your head spin; he knows something, you can feel it. A strange familiarity that panics you deeply, pisses you off; why does he love so much to keep you in the dark? Is it because he enjoys leaving you confused and ignorant? Or is it because there’s knowledge he genuinely doesn’t want you to know?

You trudge back to your room dejectedly, peel off your robes and climb into your bed like a defeated soldier– you might have just tipped off to Taehyun that you were up to something, and what did you get out of it? Absolutely nothing. Just some cryptic words.

Going to Taehyun was a bad idea; you wallowed now in your own stupidity.

Droplet of love, you repeat to yourself as you drift off to sleep. Droplet of love…

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Taehyun hisses venomously, eyes narrowed and wild. You’ve never seen him this angry.

“It isn’t what it looks like, I swear!” you cry desperately, try to cover your still brewing potion with your body– Taehyun is too quick, grabs you rough by your nightgown and pulls you up against him. His face is so close to your own you can feel his hot, panting breath fan across your cheeks.

“Isn’t what it looks like?” Taehyun spits. “My stupid little assistant being a little whore, making a love potion behind my back? How stupid do you think I am?!”

You open your mouth to defend yourself, but Taehyun doesn’t let you utter a single word. “Were you gonna use it on me, huh? Gonna get me to fuck you? Needed some cock so badly that you were willing to throw everything away for it? Stupid fucking whore. You could have just asked.”

Taehyun lets go of your nightgown and you crumple at his feet on the floor, groveling and sobbing for his mercy. “Please don’t tell anyone, I’m sorry!” you beg, too distraught to catch the last part of Taehyun’s rant. “I won’t ever do it again, I won’t ever go behind you back agan, please!” Big fat tears stream heavy down your hot face, chest caving as you beg for your mentor's forgiveness... yet still your thighs squeeze together at his venomous words and his nasty tone, poor pussy throbbing for attention– Taehyun notices your quivering thighs with a sneer, eyes dark and cold.

“Such a fucking slut… you like this, huh? Me yelling at you?” with his big rough hand he tugs you up to your knees, holds your chin in place as he unbuckles his belt and undoes his trousers. “Want me to put you in your place? Trying to sneak around behind my back, bad little girl… need to remind you of who’s in charge. Let me use that pretty throat and I’ll forgive you.”

Taehyun pulls his cock out, flushed and leaking, flared tip shiny and begging for your tongue— in one violent thrust he sheaths himself in your throat all the way to the hilt. You gag and splutter, tears still streaming down your face, but even with your blurry vision you can see Taehyun’s sick smile as his cockhead kisses the back of your throat. “Good girl,” he hisses, “Take it like the whore you are.”

Using the hand he has tangled in your hair as leverage, Taehyun begins thrusting his hips in earnest, heavy balls slapping against your chin— your whines come out like garbled chokes, pathetic and dizzy on your knees while your mentor uses your throat like nothing more than a toy for his own pleasure. “so fucking good at this, aren’t you?” He sneers, “Such a good little assistant you are.”

You keen around his cock, pussy fluttering around nothing and dripping slick, your poor panties soaked through and ruined completely. You feel so empty it almost hurts, gummy walls aching for the cock fucking your throat open, but you can hardly find it in you to care— you’re distracted by the warlock’s taste, the nasty wet sounds, the way your scalp burns from his grip on your hair. Your hands, previously laying limp at your sides, reach up to claw uselessly at his thighs, which only seems to spur him on, hips slamming hard against your face as he moans deep in his chest.

“No one else fucks this throat like me, huh? Think anyone else can use you like this?” His chest is heaving, cock twitching violently in your mouth— he’s about to cum, and your cunt clenches with excitement. “Should just slut you out right in front of the entire kingdom, even the Prince— fuck! show everyone who you belong to, who your master is!”

You whimper pathetically, one of your hands leaving his thigh to play with your neglected covered clit— Taehyun growls, pulls hard at your hair, snickers darkly when you rush to place your hand back on his thigh. “Don’t you dare touch that cunt, that’s my cunt, you think you deserve it?”

Your pussy is throbbing, hot tears streaming down your cheeks as Taehyun continues fucking your face, “I said, do you think you deserve it? Answer your master.”

You shake your head no, as best you can speared on his dick, sobbing snotty and broken and so desperate for his cum. “That’s what I thought.” Taehyun laughs humorlessly. “Good little witch.”

You can’t focus on anything other than making sure to breathe and hollow your cheeks and stay perfectly still so Taehyun can have his way with you– your jaw aches, but you swirl your tongue around Taehyun‘s shaft the best you could anyway. “Fuck, gonna cum!” He whimpers after a particularly harsh suck, hips stuttering, his big hands moving to cup both of your cheeks. It would be sweet in any other situation, so gentle and loving if he wasn’t bruising your throat with the force of his thrusts. “G-gonna— pretty little throat gonna make me cum, shit! ‘m cumming–!”

You wake up with a gasp, heart pounding in your chest so violently it was painful– it takes you a few moments for you to recognize your own surroundings, realize that you’re tucked safely in your bed and not caught red handed by your mentor; you can hear the soft bubbling of your potion at the foot of your bed, undisturbed and simmering away…

And between your legs was a sticky wet mess, your thin panties soaked through, arousal dribbling down the insides of your thighs— you’re humiliated but so turned on from your dream you could hardly think, fingers trailing down to dip into your panties and run along your slit… and you marvel, intoxicated, at the way thick droplets trickle down your fingertips when you pull them back.

Droplet of love…

Taehyun had fallen asleep at his desk that night, slumped over his scrolls and spellbooks, so you felt it was only right to wake him up with a treat— a steaming hot cup of perfectly brewed tea, complete with a little wooden teaspoon and a saucer full of freshly-baked cookies. Taehyun stared it down like it was staring back at him.

“You never make me tea.” he says flatly, brown eyes flickering between the cup and your face, making no moves to take the teacup from your outstretched hand. His sleepy, raspy voice and disheveled appearance would have made you swoon if you weren’t going half-mad with anxiety.

“Well, you’ve been working so hard! You know, for the Prince and all.” you chirp cheerily, voice only trembling slighrly. “I just wanted to show my appreciation!”

“Right.” he gives you an odd, side-eyed look but does eventually take the cup, takes a good long look into the amber liquid before stirring it slowly with the spoon. You were starting to sweat. “You’ve been acting odd lately. I’m a little concerned.” he says after a few moments of painful silence, making your sweating turn into full on chills. “Is there anything you aren’t telling me, ___?”

“No!” you bleat out immediately and far too quickly, making Taehyun turn his head to regard you quizzically. You didn’t have any time to process the fact that he cared for you at all. “No, nothing at all! Everything’s totally normal!”

Taehyun blinks. You give him a smile, but you’re fairly sure it turned out more like a grimace.

“If you say so…” Taehyun concedes, placing the saucer on his desk. “If you’re certain everything’s in order, would you mind running a little errand for me?”

“Of course!” you agree quickly, a genuine smile creeping onto your face. You thank the Gods above that Taehyun actually took the tea, now all that was left was to wait… and you supposed that playing errand girl was the perfect task for the meantime.

Taehyun picks up a small, parchment-wrapped parcel from among the clutter of his desk and hands it to you. “Would you be a doll and hand this to the Prince for me? And tell him to be sparing with it, for goodness’ sake, it’s not one of his perfumes.”

You take it gently, blushing— the package was much lighter than you expected it to be, and it gives a light rattle when you turn it over in your hands. “What is it?” you ask; you can never stop yourself from being nosy. Taehyun sighs, but there’s a mirthful glimmer in his eye that makes you giggle.

“The luck spell, remember? Now go on, he needs it to take effect by the evening.”

You waltz back into the cottage as the sun was just beginning to creep behind the treetops, having made sure to take your sweet, sweet time delivering the Prince’s package– you even stayed for tea and a chat, just in case; it wasn’t really your fault that the crown royal never knew when to shut up, was it?

“Taehyun?” you call out as you step inside— everything seemed perfectly normal and nothing was out of place, and perfectly still silence met you as you continued through the front room and into your winding, rickety hallway, at the end of which was your mentor’s study. The door was left slightly ajar.

You peeked inside, tentative; back facing you, you could see Taehyun hunched over his work desk, head hung low as he gripped onto the wood with white knuckles. He was panting, shoulders heaving with the force of his breaths, his arms shaking— your heart soared with euphoria. The potion must be working, you thought with zeal.

“Taehyun?” you call again, voice barely above a whisper dripping with faux concern, trembling with excitement, and you gently push the heavy oak door farther open with an ear-ringing creek. Taehyun’s head snaps up at the noise, startling you with his expression— his eyes were wide and wild, face flaming red, and he stares at you in shock and in rapture for a deafening few moments before averting his gaze and tugging hard at the collar of his tunic. He turns back to look at the scrolls on his desk with a cough. You could still see the blush coloring the tips of his ears.

“Taehyun, are you okay?” you ask, this time not having to fake the worry. You take a few tentative steps towards the warlock— he looked almost as if he was in pain, and you anxiously wonder if maybe you should have been more faithful to ‘a little goes a long way.’

“I’m fine.” Taehyun grunts, his usually light voice gruff and strained. The sound of it hit you deep in your tummy. “Just feel a little hot, that's all.”

You take a few steps closer, slowly and cautiously, and reach out your hand to touch his shoulder. “A-are you sure?”

“Don’t come any closer.” Taehyun warns, voice flat but dark, dripping something that makes your thighs clench together.

Your fingertips just barely brushed the top of his shoulder.

As if possessed, Taehyun spins around within an instant and grabs your wrist tightly, staring you down for a long, intense moment with a primal, dangerously dark look— it frightens and excites you, leaving your head spinning.

He uses your wrist to pull you roughly to his chest, faces centimeters apart and bodies flush; within the same breath he cages you against his desk, traps you tight between his muscular arms.

You can feel his breath fan your face as he pants like a dog, lowers his head closer and closer to yours. “I’m not sure what’s wrong with me; I just need you…”

His pillowy lips crash onto yours mid-gasp, passionate and dominating— you lean into the kiss immediately, moaning high in your throat when he deepens it, tilting your head back to stake a possessive claim that leaves you dizzy and gasping for air. He moves to run his hand up your thigh and grind his hips against yours, pushing your skirt up your hips. His thick hard cock presses hard up against your dripping slit, soaking your thin cotton panties. When he pulls away, hissing, you can see a damp spot on the crotch of his pants, outlining his straining bulge obscenely.

“Tyun—“ you whimper, but he’s quick to cut you off. He lowers himself down and takes a hold of your thighs, tugs them over his shoulders and dangling in the air; he chuckles out a breath that blows icy cold against your sopping panties.

“Just need a taste of you…”

His nose bumps gently against your throbbing clit and he mouths hot and heavy against your folds through the covering fabric. You keen desperately, nearly shriek when he begins to run the flat of his tongue up your slit and towards your clit. “Lemme taste you…” Taehyun breathes against your cunt, his long finger coming to tug at the hem of your panties.

“Anything you want!” you whine, twisting your own fingers into his thick hair. Taehyun grins wickedly.

“Anything I want?” he coos, poisonously sweet. “What a good little assistant I have.”

With a rough tug he pulls your panties to your knees, leaves your legs tangled in the wet fabric and up in the air. Taehyun devours your cunt like a starved man, his thick lips sucking tight on your clit and his tongue slow and nasty around your entrance. He drinks up your arousal as if it were some type of ambrosia, only going faster and faster with his motions until you cum all over his face with a cry, until you’re tugging hard at his hair and whining for him to stop.

He pulls away from your pussy with a longing glance, his lips and chin dripping your slick, the tip of his nose shiny. “You said whatever I want,” he pants, standing up to begin unbuckling his belt. “Gotta fuck you now, gotta fuck this pretty little pussy…”

Taehyun’s cock springs out of his trousers, slaps against his belly before standing to attention, veins throbbing— he fists his shaft loosely, enough for you to catch a glimpse of pearly white pre-cum leak out the slit of his thick pink head. Your tongue ached for the taste.

“Yes, yes, please,” you beg, pulling him closer so he can grind his cock between your weeping folds, getting his shaft nice and wet with a sloppy mix of his spit and your arousal. His cockhead pushes at your hole teasingly, and Taehyun lets it slip against your rim and slides up your folds to bump your clit. You whimper and attempt to spread your legs any bit farther, restricted by your panties— Taehyun chuckles before readjusting his cock and sheathing himself entirely in your cunt in one deep stroke. His cockhead kisses your cervix, your walls stretched so suddenly and so painfully good that you cry out in surprise and ecstasy. “You’re so deep!” you gasp, your eyes rolling back into your head when Taehyun starts rolling his hips in a ruthless rhythm.

“Take it like a good girl,” he laughs, repositioning his hands to grab tight at your hips so he could thrust into you in earnest, hips slapping together loud and wet, impossibly fast. “So tight, shit! Feel so fucking good, you’re so wet— perfect cocksleeve, perfect pussy.”

He splits you in two, your gummy walls stretched past your limits, hugging tight on his throbbing cock. Your cervix gets pounded with every hard thrust, his cock so deep you could feel him in your lower belly. “I’ve wanted to fuck you so bad,” Taehyun confesses, pussy drunk. “Wanted you since I first met you— You’re mine now, pretty thing, you hear me? Perfect pussy for me, never letting you go.”

“Yes!” you wail, too fucked out to process any of what he had just said. All you could think about or focus on was how good Taehyun was fucking you, how his heavy tightening balls were slapping against your ass, how that fiery hot knot in your belly grew tighter and tighter. “I’m yours, I’m yours!”

“Fuck yeah, that’s right. All mine, baby.” Taehyun groans deeply, hips stuttering. His hand lets go of your waist to circle your clit with rough, calloused fingertips.

You’re sent barreling towards your climax, that fire in your belly all-consuming as your pussy flutters around Taehyun’s cock. “Feels so good!” you sob, gripping his thick bicep for support. “I’m gonna cum, Taehyunnie, ‘m gonna cum—!”

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum too. Beg for my cum, baby; I’m gonna cum inside you, fill you up!” Taehyun’s cock twitched and throbbed inside your cunt, his thrusts wild and desperate. “All mine…”

“Cum inside, please! I need it, I need your cum so bad!” you hiccup, big fat tears rolling down your puffy hot cheeks from overstimulation. “Want your cum in my pussy!”

Taehyun does so with a broken moan, shoving his cock as deep inside of you as he could go, up against your cervix. He paints your walls white, floods your womb with his thick hot seed. You can feel his cock twitch with every spurt— you cum yourself a second time from the sensation, pussy clenching hard around Taehyun's slowly softening cock. He grunts, winces and grits his teeth.

Your chest is heaving as you pant for air and so is Taehyun’s, both of you sweaty and spent and trying to catch your breath. He dips his head to rest his forehead against your own, something so touchingly intimate it makes your heart clench, and you’re just about to close your eyes and bask in your euphoria, you catch Taehyun’s evil sneer.

“Silly girl thought I didn’t know? how stupid do you think I am?”

#txt x reader #taehyun x reader #taehyun hard thoughts #taehyun hard hours #taehyun smut #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #nightly.nsfw #nightly.tyunnie

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jester-lover · 4 months

Note

Could you do a Diasomnia dorm with their soulmates? Like the guys meeting soulmate for the first time, mc preferably being a human for that extra drama in case you’d want to add that?💙

Soulmate Sorrows

Oh you know I love the drama. Thank you for requesting, I hope my favoritism towards Sebek doesn’t show as much.

Feat/ Diasomnia

CWs/gn! Reader, angst-to-fluff, mentions of mortality, war and discrimination, brief kidnapping/isolation, bittersweet fluff (various soulmate aus), uhh, Sebek insults you pretty heavy

I took the creative liberty of making Lilia and Silver’s more humorous to tone down the angst of Sebek and Mal. (Also, I hope someone notices the flower language in the Sebek HCs.)

Malleus

When Malleus saw the red string on his finger connected to yours, he was filled with a sense of pure and simple happiness

As he holds you in his warm embrace, some realization hits him like a brick

As a human, you would live for a minuscule amount of time compared to him; he would see you grow gray and weak and pass on as he held onto your memory for eons to come

Or, even worse, a simple accident could take you away from him in the blink of an eye

Some sort of dragon instinct fills Malleus for a while, always suggesting to spend time with you away from others who may hurt you

He tries to keep you safe by hiding you from others, but humans like you are social creatures, and even the most introverted of us need some communication every once in awhile

He slowly realized he would be making you miserable by hiding you away and eventually stopped his behavior, apologizing to you meekly

During this process, Malleus breaks.

He cries into your arms, apologizing for his actions and revealing his fears and worries

As you comfort him, you tell him that you’ll be happy to be his for whatever time you have, and he decides from that point onward to keep you happy no matter what

He’s a very tender, affectionate lover

You can expect to sleep in his big bed, with the warm prince wrapped around you, and to hold his hand in between classes

Malleus seemingly forgets any social norms from his home when it comes down to you; he will literally fight tooth and nail with his advisers to keep you as his spouse when the time comes

Mortality rarely comes up in your discussions after a certain point, as he focuses on keeping you happy and safe

“My dearest, long after you’ve passed, I will still only have you in my heart... you’ve taken up all the space.”

Lilia

He’s as playful as ever when he sees the matching tattoo on your arm; his own is practically centuries old, and while he was content with being alone, he's so happy to see you!

Lilia might play his feelings off as being plainly giddy, but deep down he does worry a bit about how the two most important people in his life will most definitely outlive him

Now that he has a partner, a strange form of protectiveness surrounds him, like he’s found another purpose, a reason to grow stronger

(A reason to cook more!)

Moving on from that more serious topic, Lilia will be most excited to spend time just lounging about with you, strumming little melodies on his guitar, taking you on upside-down walks, cliche couple stuff, y’know?

(Just wait till he starts spilling historical tea)

To wind down and enjoy the little moments with the family he’s built, however long it lasts, is a major priority in his life

“I need someone to try out my new recipe~, all the ingredients are actually edible this time around!”

Silver

y'all are chill lmao

Okok, but when he sees you start showing up in his dreams, he’s a little freaked out, partially because you’re very attractive to him but mostly because he has zero clue how to navigate romance

Imagine going on a date with him, and he’s down for the count in the first 10 minutes

Thankfully, I assume you are aware of his sleep habit, and he’s always very grateful when you wake him up

Despite his stern exterior, Silver has a tendency to show his deep affection for you through acts of service, such as helping you clean Ramshackle House, because God knows how much it needs help (thanks, Crow Man).

Another little quirk about him is his tendency to go along with any cute couple activity you want to do

Wanna wear matching outfits? Cool with him.

Walk him to his classes? Absolutely.

Be the loudest spectator at his equestrian club meets? He appreciates the enthusiasm.

Even if you consider yourself to be a volatile or argumentative person, it’s very hard for Silver to get mad at you because of the genuine adoration and respect he holds for you

He can’t wait to grow older alongside you, to see you at your best, your worst, and your most human moments, until the two of you are old and wrinkly

“I saw something I thought you’d like at the store while I was running errands… maybe we could make dinner together…?”

Sebek

NO.

this is Sebek's worst nightmare come true; the words written on his wrist were the first you ever spoke to him, you, you disgusting, vile, no good human...

He runs far away, back into his room, and under his covers

He refuses to speak to you, refuses to look at you, and refuses to do anything involving you

For a couple of days, he just sulks, which is super heartbreaking for you, considering the fact that you can't control who you are, and your only soulmate just harshly rejected you

Sebek cries a lot. Like, a lot. at one point or another, his mother calls him to verbally smack some sense into him (and most likely Lilia too)

You see him standing at the door of Ramshackle House, breathing heavily as Grim offers to flambé him for you

You decide to hear him out, and he practically spills his years of self-loathing and hurt on your lap

Some part of you hurts for your soulmate, and you hold him in your arms

This relationship starts out turbulent, to say the least, but there’s a mental click that happens for him at one point, where he just realizes how if his own mother found joy with a human, he can too

Sebek tries his best to earn your trust, trying to break down the emotional layers his own internal bigotry has put between you

(it’s also very cute when he shows up with a bouquet of daffodils, as per Lilia’s recommendation)

You two definitely have a long road ahead of you, but Sebek’s affection is loud and unwavering, and while he might be stubborn in his nature, he knows when to cool it down now

For your sake and for the lifelong relationship he wants with you

“Human! I have a few hours to spare before training, would you like to read with me?”

OMG I actually posted??? I'm crawling through requests as fast as I can ya'll, school has been destroying my creativity for the last few weeks.

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secretwritingspot · 5 months

Text

Too Much (Take Me Home)

Pairing: OPLA Sanji x Reader

Rating/Content Warnings: okay so I have no idea how to rate this. Like this is definitely not PG but it's also not really nsfw?? Honestly I'd recommend just reading the summary and deciding for yourself from there.

Summary: Reader is a sub who, due to the nature of y'know like being on a pirate ship constantly has not had a single chance to relax in weeks, especially since they don't really know any of their crewmates like that. Sanji steps in to save the day.

Disclaimer(s): so funny story - this is the single kinkiest thing I've written for this blog. And yet. It is also the least sexual thing I've written for this blog, that being not sexual at all. This is purely mentally-ill wish fulfillment emotional hurt-comfort d/s fluff. None of those words are in the bible but we persist nonetheless. A lot of d/s themes but like soft d/s if that makes sense, undernegotiated kink (there's definitely communication and it's p healthy but they're both idiots your honor), some petplay if you squint? Like not really but reader is on their knees and he calls them puppy a few times so do with that what you will.

There's a surprising amount of paperwork that comes with being the ship's chef.

One would think Sanji was always on his feet, whipping up something new- and yet here he is, late at night, sitting at a table that feels nautical miles away from where he really wants to be, the galley. But this was a part of the job- to catalogue ingredients, new recipes, what he could make and on what day for their supplies to last until the next town.

He's used to it being a solitary job, but then there's footsteps and a knock at the doorframe of his room and you walk in, shy uncertainty in your voice.

"...Sanji?"

You weren't sure about this, about any of this. But you were exhausted in a way that sleep couldn't fix, and it was obvious to you as to why.

You were a sub. There, you admitted it, got that embarrassing information out of the way as quickly as possible.

You - strong, strategic, stoic you - had been spinning out for the last few days. It had been too long since you'd been able to go under, since you'd joined the strawhats, to be precise, and it was starting to wear on you.

There was only so long you could go like this, tough and detached, protecting everyone else, taking care of the rest of your crew before yourself. It was constant, on the Merry. You really should've seen that coming with it being a pirate ship and all, but you felt like you had no room to breathe. Wake up, save the day, plan, eat and sleep only to keep your energy up to do it again the next day. You were always on, always performing the most capable version of yourself, and it was starting to wear you thin.

Sanji, for all his care and attention, hadn't seemed to notice. Even now, when you'd come to him like this. For that, a part of you was thankful.

He can't even hope to hide the way his face lights up when you walk in, quickly grabbing a towel next to him and wiping off his hands on instinct, like there should be oil or cooking wine or flour on them. There isn't, but other times there is. And there will be again, eventually. Better safe than sorry, he supposes.

"What could possibly bring such an angel down to me so late?"

He questions with a charming smile, cocking his head at you fondly. You roll your eyes at his immediate antics, blushing.

"Ah. Straight to business, huh?"

You laugh nervously, looking away and scratching the back of your neck with a sheepish blush.

"...can I stay with you? While you work?"

He squints at you curiously and then nods, smile blooming on his face the way it always does when you're around. For such a simple request, he doesn't know why you look so embarrassed.

Sure, the signs of embarrassment aren't as obvious on someone like you- but he can still see them. The way your eyes avoid his, the slight awkwardness in your stance as you shift on your feet.

"Of course, love. I'd never turn down your wonderful company."

You take a relieved breath and nod, looking down. For a moment you stand still, trying to make your feet move. Is this really such a good idea?

You take the leap before you can second guess yourself, walking over to where he sits at the desk. You pass the other seats and he squints curiously, having expected you to take one. Instead, you come straight to his, sinking down to your knees next to him and sitting back on your heels, resting your head on the side of his thigh.

Oh.

Oh, wow.

His eyes widen when you settle on the floor next to him, his face a pink hue as he looks down at you. Still, he didn't move. Instead, he gently brushes some of your hair back, looking at you with confusion.

"Are you...what are you doing, love?"

You swallow thickly, blinking your eyes back open to look up at him pleadingly, face pink.

"...can I stay here? I- I'll explain if you want, I promise, just...please."

He chuckles, an intrigued little smile gracing his features as he looks down at you nods. "Go ahead, explain. You can stay here as long as you'd like, darling."

"I need..."

You start to speak before backing up your explanation, embarrassment showing in the way your speech jumps back and forth between thoughts.

"I've been exhausted, recently. I'm sleeping fine, I just...sometimes I need to- to relax a certain, uh- a certain way. And since we've been on the ship, I haven't been able to, uh..."

You squeeze your eyes shut with embarrassment, taking a deep breath and turning to press your face against his thigh to hide your blush.

"...subspace. I'm- I'm a sub. And I haven't been able to go into subspace for a while, and I know this is a lot to ask you and I'm sorry, I just- I need to be like this for a while, please."

Immediately, your behavior starts to make sense. It would be hard to be a sub on a crew like this, constantly having to fight and stay in control. You likely haven't had the chance to submit to anyone in ages, if only for safety reasons. After all, you're all wanted. But with the natural way you dropped to your knees below him, put your head on his thigh like second nature, it all clicks.

He looks at you for a moment and blinks, his expression unreadable.

"...I think I understand what you mean. You want to be good for me, yes? I don't mind that, you know. You're quite pretty like this." He gently drags the back of his hand across your face with a smile before adding, almost as an afterthought, "Sweet thing."

You shiver at his words and nod in confirmation, letting your head fall back to the side to rest against his thigh.

This is...it's the last thing he'd expect from you, really. You're so tough and capable and independent, so the fact that you're a sub? The more he thinks about it the more it makes him blush- that someone like you was even capable of submitting, let alone craved it, let alone again would come to him, pleading for him to let you kneel at his feet for a while as he works. He gently runs a hand along your back, the corner of his mouth twitching as he smirks.

"I want you to stay like this until you're satisfied, alright darling?" He smiles and takes a look back at the paperwork on the table "...Are you comfortable there?"

You nod, heart fluttering when he says he wants you to stay like this until you feel better. It's sweet and gentle and so very Sanji, but at the same time, it sounds almost like an instruction. Like a command. It makes your cheeks flush and your mind stop whirring for a second in a way you'd missed so badly from when friends or partners who knew about your submissiveness back on land would put you under. The comfort of not having to think of anything besides doing what you're told- being good, always being good. You'd missed this.

"I need you to relax for me, okay? Just...focus on enjoying yourself, yeah? I have to get this work done, so I'm counting on you to stay right here. Can you do that for me?"

You nod almost immediately and he grins at the obedience, going back to his work with a satisfaction mirrored in you.

Something to do. A task. Something to be good at, good enough to make him proud. It settles your mind as you lean your head against him, the slight twinge of pain from kneeling on the wooden floor grounding you pleasantly.

He could get used to this, he thinks- you sitting at his feet next to him like a puppy, one of his hands scratching through your hair absentmindedly as he works through his paperwork and supply numbers. He watches you out of the corner of his eye as he works, the sound of parchment paper a pleasant constant. Your breathing was also rather soothing, a nice background to his quiet humming as he writes. He feels as though he could listen to it all night and never grow tired of it.

He makes a mental note of how each different touch effects you- cataloging your reactions, what you like, what seems to make your mind dissolve. He finds a particular sweet spot behind your ears that leaves you a shivering puddle when he scratches softly with his nails, a spot at the crown of your head that makes you purr, that any light touch closer to your neck provokes a wobbly, ticklish smile but that you don't make any move to stop him. You seem completely zoned out, dazed and pliant and warm under his fingers.

A minute passes like that, then five, then ten. He looks back down to check on you and feels his heart stall in his chest.

"Oh, darling..." He whispers softly, blushing at the sight of you. Hazy and dazed with near-reverence in your eyes. He stops writing, setting down the pen and reaching down to lift your chin up, looking you directly in the eyes.

"Look at me. Please."

You perch your chin on his thigh obediently to look up at him from your position on the floor. It's the most relaxed he's ever seen you- shoulders dropped like a tremendous weight's been lifted from you, limbs like lead as doe eyes blink up at him blearily, expression glazed-over and vulnerable and soft, softer than he thought you were capable of.

You were a tremendous warrior, someone feared across the seas, and yet your head was on his thigh, sitting at his feet below him.

You, who could kill him in a fraction of a second if you wanted.

He sighs, a little breathless. He's so tempted to lean down and kiss you, but he shakes his head slowly. Not now, not yet. There's something else he needs to do first.

His hand runs through your hair as he looks into your eyes almost like a nurse would with a concussed patient, checking up on you to make sure you're okay.

"Can you speak? It doesn't have to be a lot, just...say something for me, love."

"C'n speak."

You answer softly, obedient nearly to a fault, your usually confident voice gone soft and mumbly. It's perfect. Christ, all of it is perfect.

"'verything's just kinda...fuzzy right now. 's okay, it's nice."

His eyes are glued to you as his hand gently runs through your hair, scratching behind your ear. There's something on his mind, something he can't quite place or figure out yet.

"You look so beautiful right now." He admits gently, his voice still a low whisper. "Can you tell me why- why you're like this?"

Well, wasn't that a hell of a question? Why are you - always that emphasis in your head, though he doesn't mean it like that - of all people, why are you?

A few moments pass before you say anything. You don't really know what you would say, not until it's already coming out of your mouth.

"...cause 'm not allowed to be."

It's the only answer you can think of when you can finally convince yourself to speak.

"I- I have to know everything. All the time. Be in charge and make the tough decisions and stay on top of everything and make sure everyone's okay-"

The words come slowly at first, but the longer you speak the quicker they spill out, rambling like it's something that's been festering for weeks that you desperately need to get off your chest.

You cut yourself off with a deep breath when you realize the breakneck speed with which you're ranting, simplifying your answer down to it's most basic terms.

"...I don't get to be weak."

He can't help but feel his breath catch at that reply. "I don't get to", like it's something you want but aren't allowed. He can so easily see that side of you now that you mentioned it, but he'd always just ignored it. It seemed inconsequential. Like that part just...wasn't you.

It strikes him then that that was probably on purpose, on your part. You wanted them to disregard it.

But the more he thinks about it, the more he recontectualizes all your stress, all the moments of you snapping at the crew over little slights, the more curious he gets as to how and why you got to be like this in the first place.

"There isn't anything weak about this." he pushes back sternly as soon as he can get his voice to work. "This is...this is the most courageous thing I could imagine. I'm so proud of you."

The words hit you like a brick and you close your eyes, taking a shaky breath as they play on repeat in your head.

"I'm so proud of you."

You can feel yourself crumbling at his affection, the voracity of his care. How adamant he is about understanding that sometimes you just needed to be below someone else.

He cups your cheek in his hand softly, angling your face to look up at him. The more you let your guard down, the warmer his chest feels looking at you. He'd never seen you open up this much, it makes his heart ache. He smiles at the sight of you looking up at him so prettily, lightly tapping the tip of your nose.

"...there you are."

The words are barely a whisper, full of pride and admiration and pleasant disbelief. It's a shame how much you try to prove your strength, your resilience when there isn't a reason for it.

You'd always been enough for him. Always been strong enough, tough enough, useful enough. Always, always, always.

You'd never needed to be anything more than who you were, and getting to see you like this...it's like he's seeing you for the first time all over again.

"It's an honor to finally meet you."

All you can manage is a soft huff of breath, his words knocking the breath from your lungs. It's almost a sob, except that there are no tears. You have no idea why. Or why you almost sobbed in the first place. Why are there no tears?

"It's an honor to finally meet you."

The words cut through you like water. He still wants you? Even like this- emotionally stunted, a needy mess, pathetic and fragile and shaking?

"The way you are right now is nothing short of beautiful. Everything about you is lovely. It's...it isn't easy letting go like this, is it?" He muses, a hand resting on your hair, his thumb running along your face.

You sniffle quietly and blink back tears, nodding your head. It's progress even getting you to agree.

He knows you aren't upset by his words and so your unshed tears don't bother him. Knows that you aren't used to this, aren't going to be good at believing or accepting it immediately. He knows it'll take time to get to a place where words like that don't phase you anymore. So for now, your agreement is more than enough.

"...can we stay here for a while? Please?"

You break through his train of thought with a cautious whisper, voice small. A surge of pride shoots through him at your words, so fucking proud. If agreeing with his words is difficult, asking for what you want is worse. It's a hell of a first step.

"Of course we can. How long do you want to be like this, sweetheart?"

Ah. And there's the problem, isn't it? The "what do you want?" Really and truly, you have no idea.

"I don't mind much, it's..."

You trail off softly, hiding your face against his thigh in embarrassment as your blush spreads to the tips of your ears.

"...'s however long you want me to stay. It...it helps, letting you decide things for me."

The admission is a shy one, but it's not like it's something he couldn't've seen coming. It makes sense that instructions and praise would go hand in hand to make someone like you feel safe, small, protected.

"...I don't want you to move, okay?" He finally decides, lifting his hand from your hair to brush it behind your ear, fingernails scratching gently.

"Just let me take care of you for a while."

You take a deep breath at his words like the air's cleared for the first time in decades, finally having something to ground yourself on.

He makes a note of that in his head, too- you like a sense of order, when he makes decisions for you or gives you instructions to follow. Something simple that you can focus on even in your dazed, vulnerable state of mind, a task you can accomplish.

His hand continues to run through your hair gently, thumb making little figure 8's at the crown of your head.

"Do you want me to hold you? Or do you prefer being on your knees?"

He doesn't look at you when he asks, pen scratching away at his charts with his eyes on the table. Somehow, that helps- the idea that he's still working, that you're not too inconvenient of a distraction.

The simple choice you're given between two options makes everything feel easy and calm and hazy, and your voice is quiet when you answer.

"On- on my knees. Makes me feel more- more..."

You trail off, trying to explain but unable to find the words.

"More vulnerable." He finishes for you, smiling as it finally clicks. A position of submission, giving up your power to him.

Undoubtably, you're more vulnerable on your knees. You'd typically never let anyone near you in this state, not since you joined the strawhats, but with him, it feels...safe.

"I like it too." He admits, his hand still on you as his voice slowly trails off.

Your features smooth out in relief at his understanding and you nod, leaning into him and nuzzling his thigh for a moment to show your appreciation.

He has to look away for a moment, as seeing you nuzzle against him triggers an almost visceral reaction he wasn't expecting. His face flushes a bit more, a small smile brightening face as he leans in his chair, his expression adoring as he looks down at you. He reaches out for your ear, scratching gently at it with his fingernail.

You're so soft like this he swears he might fall in love.

"...can we do this more often, when you want to relax?"

Your eyes widen with a surprised blush at all the question as your brain shorts out for a moment.

He really...he's really willing to make this a regular thing? He isn't just doing this to humor you? It seems almost impossible to believe that this isn't some kind of weird burden you'd pushed onto him.

"...yeah. I'd- 'd like that."

You mumble breathlessly, clearing your throat as you look down.

He's already looking for another command, a simple task he can praise you for. Something about telling you what to do - you, who could slit his throat in an instant - he's quickly figuring out that he likes it. Quite a bit, actually.

He thinks back to the little things he's noticed about you- you prefer standing with your back to walls, facing the exit of whatever room you're in. You can only fall asleep when someone else on the crew is still awake. You're always chewing toothpicks, sucking on the end of your pen-

Wait.

Do you have an- could he- maybe...?

He hums in thought, grin spreading wider as he looks down at you once more. Gently, he lifts your chin so you're looking directly at him.

"Open your mouth," He instructs softly, almost in a whisper. Curious.

A soft blush blossoms across your ears but other than that you don't question it, far enough into subspace that all that matters is following instructions, being good. You don't even think before parting your lips obediently, looking up at him with those pretty doe eyes. Like he hung the moon and the stars in the sky.

Bingo.

It was an oral fixation, your constant need to suck on a toothpick or the end of your pen. He couldn't fully understand, but he could relate- he always felt safer with a cigarette in his mouth.

He gently pushes his thumb in your mouth, taking a deep breath as he waits for your reaction to the audacious move. You wanted him to make you feel small, safe, vulnerable. He's more than happy to do that for you.

At your service, now and always.

Your blush spreads out to your cheeks and your eyes widen a fraction in surprise, but as soon as you manage to process that he really just did that, you close your lips gently around his thumb, eyes glazing over as you look up at him for approval.

You're so beautiful when you're like this, all raw and vulnerable and desperate to be good. He hums, eyes glued to you with a loving gaze as he takes in just how stunning you are in this moment.

"Submission suits you." He praises softly, his voice almost a whisper. "You're so...so sweet like this. So lovely when you don't think so much, puppy."

The last word is meant jokingly, gently poking fun at the way you're kneeling next to him, head on his thigh. Your reaction, though...that throws him. The way you squeeze your eyes closed and your blush darkens to a pure pink when he calls you "puppy", the way he can feel you whine around his thumb at the term as you melt, shoulders slumping- and that's certainly interesting, isn't it?

"Aww, puppy likes that, doesn't she?"

He can't help but smile as he takes his thumb out of your mouth for a moment before pushing two fingers in instead. Your cheeks flush when he does so, those puppy dog eyes glancing back at him with so much emotion it's almost overwhelming. The name is fitting, he supposes.

You flush further with embarrassment, though you know it makes no logical sense. Your mind doesn't seem to want to quiet itself, echoing judgements of your current position- weak, needy, pathetic. The shy feeling of poorly restrained shame claws up your chest even as you try to dismiss it. You shouldn't feel so embarrassed by this- Sanji clearly isn't bothered by it, doesn't think it's odd, hell, if anything he seems like he's enjoying himself. Yet you, brain all tied up in knots, can't seem to look at him.

So instead you try to focus on other things, like the comforting contrast of the warmth from his fingers and the cool metal of his ring pressing down softly on your tongue.

He can sense the embarrassment from you, though he can't understand it. He'd seen you at your worst, and this certainly wasn't it.

"...there's nothing wrong with allowing someone to take care of you, you know. I actually quite like seeing you like this." He says, the words falling out of his mouth before he even thinks.

Almost as if they'd been waiting to come out this whole time.

His reassurance only makes your blush intensify, but this time it's not bad.

It isn't shame, not really. It's more pleasantly flustering. If embarrassment were a spectrum, this...feeling would fall on the 'good' end of it.

Sensing it's a vulnerable topic, he lets the reassurance hang, not giving you enough time to think about it before changing the subject with a fond, knowing chuckle.

"You like the ring, don't you?"

He doesn't say, 'it gives you something to focus on so your mind doesn't wander too far' or 'the temperature brings you back down and grounds you here away from those nasty thoughts', but you both know that's what it is.

There's something warm in the way he so nonchalantly reveals that he's been cataloging every little detail of your reactions- the spot behind your ears, the fact you like being called 'puppy', and now the fact that you like the feeling of his ring pressing down on your tongue. Your mind is in enough of a submissive haze that you can't bring yourself to lie to him, instead nodding your head in agreement.

A small, fond smile graces his lips as his thumb moves up to your lower lip, gently prodding at your chin to bring your attention back to him.

"You can take breaks if you want. I know the ring's cold."

His voice is a warm, intimate whisper, eyes watching every movement you make, every twitch and hum catalogued in his mind.

The care in it makes your heart feel warm and you keep his fingers where they are, nipping lightly at him for a moment as if to let him know without words that you're enjoying this, that you don't need a break. It's so fucking cute his heart melts.

He can't help himself any more, pulling his fingers from your mouth. You nearly whine at the loss but then - then, oh, then - he presses a small, soft kiss to your lips and the whole world falls apart, his lips pressed tenderly to you as if you're something so much more than the sum of your parts. Your mind works on overdrive- it's such pure affection and approval and he kissed you, so that means you must've been good, right? That he was proud?

Little do you know, he's just as in awe as you are. In awe that you're really here with him, like this. That you'd ever let him do this. Everything about you is special to him, special because it's yours. Just like your eyes, the sound of your voice, the heart beating erratically in your chest. Before he can think about it he's pulling his ring off his finger, wiping the remains of your spit from it, and sliding it gently on your ring finger.

You cock your head up at him and squint in confusion and he smiles, voice soft like he's afraid anything stronger than a whisper would break the moment he's worked so hard for.

"Keep it, puppy. Then, next time you...need my help like this, you can give it back to me. Yeah?"

He punctuates his words by lifting your hand up like it's precious, placing a feather-light kiss to your knuckles.

The promise sparks a warmth in your chest, the casual mention of "next time" like there's no doubt at all in his mind that there will be a next time, the way he touches you like you're fragile, stares at you with pink cheeks and blown eyes like you're the sun and the moon and all the pinpoints in the night sky.

You should've jumped overboard when you had the chance, you think, because you've ended up drowning either way.

Eventually you can convince your muscles to work enough to nod, face blooming in fireworks of pink and orange and red as your words come back to you, though your voice is still small and hazy and breathless.

"...yeah, okay. Next time."

#vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #opla sanji #opla sanji x reader #opla #opla x reader #sanji x you #opla Sanji x you #opla x you #one piece #one piece live action #one piece x reader #one piece x you #opla x y/n #opla sanji x y/n #sanji x y/n

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literaila · 11 months

Text

still here

tasm!peter x reader

summary: there’s an ache in me, put there by the ache in you

(for @elysian-chaos)

warnings: angst, fluff, feeling unworthy, feeling useless, you know, seperation

a/n: ‘tis the damn season is the best song ever. dont argue

there's this little thing called stress baking.

typically, stress baking is referred to as coping by making something delicious to scavenge on, instead of dwelling on the feelings scavenging you. and typically, it's done with a certain type of elegance--one that is made up of chaos. completely insane, yet completely in control. it's a messy dance, but perfectly choreographed.

stress baking is a very reviving task. filling up the house with muffins and pies is not only good for distracting yourself, but also for making friends when you run out of room. or smiling at the cashier every time you have to go to the store for ingredients.

it's something you've practiced for years. something you've become somewhat addicted to.

but then there's baking while stressed. which, you swear, hadn't been your intention.

brownies from a box were supposed to be easy. they were notoriously easy. a couple of eggs, some oil, and some water. the hardest part of your job was mixing, but you'd done it so many times that you zoned out while doing all of it.

box brownies were supposed to be non-stress and quick. but when you burn the brownies and batter rises over the top of your glass pan, and the oven is dirty, and the apartment smells like burnt batter and oven cleaner--well, you have to reread the directions.

you're a good baker. you've been making cookies and cakes for parties for years. you pride yourself on not needing measuring cups because you can eye a recipe by the gram.

not that these brownies would agree.

and it's already five-forty-five. peter is going to be home in the next fifteen minutes and this was supposed to be a treat. something good.

"surprise! i ruined our oven, and now we're going to have to spend the next few nights at your aunt's house in your twin-sized bed until the smell of death goes away!" doesn't typically bring out any smiles.

and peter's been stressed lately, and you've been stressed about him.

and now you're making brownies from scratch without butter--because you used it all on the last batch, oops--and the number of candles you've lit is a sure fire hazard.

but if peter would just smile at you, pull you in by your waist and laugh while he kissed you with a chocolate mouth, it would all be fine.

if there wasn't so much riding on this one (two) pan(s) of brownies. like being able to sleep comfortably tonight.

you turned the oven down, found a new pan--threw the other one out because it was nothing but a source of disappointment--and cleaned the oven just enough to not draw any suspicions. but you could still feel the failure lurking.

peter was going to come home to a chaotic house, and it was your fault.

so you scrubbed at the counters. fixed the stack of bills on the table so that you couldn't see any of the stamps, folded the blankets, and even swept the kitchen floor.

still, you knew peter would know. because he always knows. and maybe that was why he was acting so weird lately--maybe that's why you were acting so weird.

the door opened when the timer on the oven went off.

you'd wanted to watch peter walk through the door--so you could gauge how tired he was, how miserable--but maybe it was better not to know. to let him put on a mask while your back was still turned.

"hey, baby," he said, as you were pulling the brownies out of the oven, setting his house keys on the counter and sighing. "i'm home."

you peeked over your shoulder, giving him a hint of a smile--the same type he was giving you. "hey, honey," you said back, "you're home."

peter walked around the island to stand right behind you, kissing the back of your head and stealing a look over to the stovetop. he clears his throat. "brownies?"

you shrug. "thought you might like something sweet when you got home."

you take off the oven mitt, not really wanting to look at him--maybe because you're scared of what you'll see, or maybe just because you can already feel his eyes tearing down your skin.

but you can feel his breath on your neck as he chuckles. his exhaustion as he leans into your back.

"i've already got you, though," he whispers one peck at the edge of your jaw, another by your ear.

you snort and pull away, turning so you can look at him. and then you pretend to throw up.

he laughs and pokes your forehead.

you're not looking at him and he's not looking at you.

you turn back to the brownies.

"did you drop something in the oven?" peter asks, leaning his chin on your shoulder.

"no," you answer, a bit too defensive.

"sure?"

"am i sure that i didn't burn something in the oven, peter? yes."

there's a beat. "...cause it smells like it."

you headbutt him. "you smell like it. go shower. you can't eat these yet."

"yes, ma'am," peter takes a step back, and you look at him again. you can see the question in his eyes, and see your own reflecting the same question.

what are you hiding?

"we have some ice cream, too."

peter moans, his head back. you roll your eyes at him.

and you start cutting the brownies, worries, and chocolate chips sticking to the knife, listening to peter's footsteps, feeling his presence sticking to you like sugar, sticky and rich, his eyes keeping you on edge.

you know you shouldn't feel stupid--peter doesn't actually know what happened, or care--but you do. because he knows, and because even from the split second you looked at him, you could see the strain on his skin, the pressure weighing him down, dragging his feet across the floor.

you feel stupid just because you don't know what to do. so before he can close the door, you turn around. choosing reaction instead of pretending.

"peter?"

he pauses, his head whipping towards you. his eyes are as soft and loving as they always are--his attention remains the same, even when his energy doesn't. like he's wasting himself away just to take care of you.

he swallows. "yeah?"

"are you--" you blink, look away, try not to taste burnt brownies. "are you okay? you seem tired. was work… alright?

peter smiles, shaking his head. "just the usual, bub. work and... work. i think i'll go to bed early tonight?"

you raise a brow.

peter clears his throat. "i mean, i think i'll take a nap tonight before i go out."

you nod. "okay."

you both stare at each other for a moment. he's far enough away that it's easier. you don't have to feel his emotions as he processes them. don't have to see them from up close.

you hate yourself for being afraid of him. for being afraid for him.

“d’ya want to join me?” peter asks, whisper slipping from his mouth, smile taunting from his lips. “we can cuddle and eat brownies.”

you lick your lips, shaky smile enough. “you sure? i’ve heard i can be a bit distracting…”

peter’s laugh makes his shoulders shake. “you heard correctly,” he says eyes crinkled, “but i don’t mind.”

you nod. you’re grateful for his ease. the careful reveal of his true face, the peeling of a mask. the admittance that not everything is perfect, no matter how small.

“go shower. i’ll get the sugar.”

peter kisses you on the cheek before he goes.

and at least you got a couple of smiles out of him. at least you can feel his kiss lingering on your skin.

it's not that serious. honestly.

you hardly even think about it. you're not thinking about it.

you're not dwelling on the smell of soft skin and the feeling of calloused hands running up and down your back, the tickle of a breath against your neck.

you're not thinking about it at all.

and if it's been a week--or a week and a half, or two, or three--since you last spoke, or shared the same space with peter, then it's fine.

this is something you've grown used to. something you're supposed to be used to.

peter has obligations.

he has things he needs to fulfill--not just for himself, but for others, for the guilt that you can see rocking his bones all of the time, the shame in his eyes when he comes home a bit too early. he has places that he needs to be, if only because he won't be able to live with himself if he's not there.

but then again, you're not sure how to live when he's not here. especially when the sink breaks.

still, as long as you can feel him pull you into his chest every night, imagine him kissing your forehead before falling asleep, then it's fine.

you're not thinking about any of it because it's fine.

but you miss him. if only momentarily.

he'll come back--you repeat this like a promise, like it's his voice whispering it to you--because he always does.

space is good for the heart, some part of you swears. though you don't think you could think of peter any fonder than you already do.

he comes in too late at night and is already gone when you wake up. he texts you updates--because you've talked about communication before--and tells you that he loves you through sweet little notes he sends during the day.

if the thing he wishes to share about his life is the worm he found in his apple, then you're perfectly happy to listen (read).

it's normal to miss the person you love most in the world.

and it's normal for your boyfriend to disappear for fourteen hours each day, just barely cuddling with you for three hours before he's gone again.

it's normal for you, at least

he’ll come back.

and so, instead of thinking about peter, and wondering when he might notice the frayed edges of your relationship, you make sure that he doesn't have to worry about anything.

you clean up after the two of you, running the dishwasher and cleaning the bathroom, and packing him lunch on days you know he'll be gone for the office. making sure there's always something he can eat in the fridge when he gets home late at night, and texting him to know what he wants from the store.

you make the bed and wash his clothes and hope that maybe it'll keep him from burning out.

you hope that maybe it will keep you distracted enough to not ask him for anything. like love or support or a five-minute conversation.

if taking care of him is the only way to keep him going--the only way to keep yourself going--then you'll do it. peter takes care of you enough.

but even if you're not thinking about it, it's there.

because you've just fallen asleep--which is extremely rare recently, mostly because you like to wait until you hear the window and then slow your breathing until you feel peter crawl into bed with you--and just woke up.

woke up with sweaty skin and a headache. it's night ten and you're getting nightmares again.

it's ridiculous that you can't even last two weeks without peter there. without him kissing you to sleep.

and when you burst out of bed, you almost fall into him--almost scream because you're sharing the bed with someone else.

tears are running down your face. your heart feels split open--like your dreams have revealed something inside it.

but you look over to peter and he's there; he's still here.

so you take a deep breath--chest caving in, body following--and you rest your head in your hands.

if there's anything you want right now, it's for peter to wake up.

it's for him to know all of this.

you want him to appear next to you, leaning over your back like he's going to shelter from the world if that's what you need. rubbing your back and whispering in your ear. you want him in your house and laughing when you break the shower rod again.

you want him to cuddle with you before he leaves, and cross his heart when you scold him while he crawls out the window.

you want him in more than just your memory.

but peter is snoring next to you, and so you sit there in silence until the tears begin to ease.

peter's not supposed to be home.

he works until five, and then takes the subway home--and you're not expecting to see him anyway. he's been shoving his suit into the bottom of his backpack right as you pull it out of the hamper.

so it's not that unusual for you to be laying in bed, shoes and socks kicked across the floor, hands gripping for some stability, and eyes puffy and red.

and it's not that unusual for you to squeak when the window opens, and spider-man's head peeks into your room.

you can feel peter's wide eyes behind the mask.

you're quick to wipe your face, throw on a clumsy smile. "peter," you say, exhaling. "what're you doing here?"

a body crawls into the window, dirt and grime on clothes finger-tips reaching out to you. "what's wrong?" he asks, voice only slightly muffled.

but you take a step back, moving away from him when he lands on the floor, leaving spots for you to vacuum up later.

"what're you doing here?" you repeat, voice a bit harsher, a bit faded.

"i need--" he reaches his hand out toward you again, retreating when you do. "i needed some more web fluid. i don't--" he shakes his head. "what happened?"

"i, um," you wipe traitorous tears away again. "i think there's some more in the closet. i keep moving it when i'm cleaning, sorry."

"you're crying," peter scolds. like you're being ridiculous. like you're not trying to save him the effort it's going to take to fix this irrational piece of you, these lonely broken bits.

you bite your lip and look away.

because although you can't even see his eyes--they are still scolding. they are quick and cruel reminders that you haven't talked to peter in two weeks.

you turn towards your bedside table, pretending to organize the contents on top.

you can hear peter moving.

"what's going on, bub?" he says, soft enough for the words to crawl under your skin. he's taken the mask off. his voice is clear.

"oh, nothing, you know," you pause, shrugging. "just the usual sad movie type of cry..." peter's hand reaches your back and you flip around, almost knocking over your lamp.

"c'mon," he whispers to you, far closer than you'd been expecting.

you try and take a step back, only meeting a dead-end. he's cornered you. "you should go, peter. you were just--"

"this is more important."

you laugh. "some silly tears are more important than a collapsing building?"

"you're more important," peter swears, his eyes so focused on yours, "to me."

you blink and shake your head. gesture back towards the window. "go and save some people. you don't have to help me too."

peter swallows, brows furrowed. "will you tell me what's wrong?"

"i can take care of myself, peter. you don't need to worry about it."

"well, i'm going to."

you roll your eyes. and then you break free of his hold, moving away from the table, from the cage he's built around you. "move along, spider-man."

peter doesn't move any closer, but his limbs are tense. his face is concerned and hurt--you try and shield that out.

"i'm not leaving you when you're crying."

"i'm not crying anymore."

peter scowls. "stop deflecting."

you take a deep breath, throat dry and aching. "i'm not--" you clear your throat, shaking your head and looking away from him. "i'm fine, peter. but some people actually need you. go and save the day," you tell him. "i'll still be here when you come back."

and you are.

you're sitting on the couch, staring at photos peter took on the wall, wondering how to explain any of it.

how to explain yourself without digging the two of you any further in this hole.

you've been trying to prove just how little you need peter--just how useful you could be--and by doing so, you've put yourself in this situation.

because you do need him. you just hadn't wanted peter to know that.

so you're sitting on the couch, trying not to flinch every time the air conditioning comes on, or there's a footstep from the apartment above you. you're waiting for peter to climb in through the window, waiting to see how exhausted he is before he has to deal with you.

and you've bitten your lip raw. completely eliminated any evidence of fingernails you once had.

your heart stutters with every minute that comes by.

and when you finally hear peter hop in from the fire escape, your heart stops completely.

you wonder if he's going to change before he comes and finds you. before the inevitable happens, and you give him another reason to work so late.

your restlessness must be audible because it only takes peter forty seconds before walking into the living room. he's wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt.

he's wearing a frown like a well-tailored suit. known and made for him.

you're trying not to frown back.

"hey," you say, putting on a smile, voice flighty and an octave too high. "everything okay?"

"no one got hurt," peter says, the antonym to your tone.

"good."

apparently, your tight-lipped smile isn't enough to ease the tension in the room.

"are you ready to talk?" peter asks, slowly stepping toward you, just barely meeting your eyes.

you'd scrubbed your face after he left. sobbed in the shower as you washed away any of the shame you hadn't meant for him to see. you'd made sure that your eyes weren't puffy, and your eyelashes were dry before he'd got home.

so when peter scans your face--as he's doing now--he shouldn't notice anything unusual.

besides the facade you're putting on.

you clear your throat, eyebrows lifted like you're unconcerned. "there's not much to talk about."

peter's sullen face doesn't move an inch. "why were you crying?"

"i already told you. i watched a sad movie," you wave a hand, "you just came in at the wrong time."

peter sighs. he sits down on the couch next to you, keeping his distance. "don't lie."

you frown. "i'm not lying."

"you've got some pretty obvious tells, you know," peter whispers, giving you a hint of a bittersweet smile. "you don't have to talk to me. but i'd like it if you did. i just want to make sure that you're... okay."

"i'm fine, peter."

he looks away. "and if you're not then we'll figure it out. i just want to know."

"well, you do."

peter opens his mouth, then closes it, shaking his head.

he's sitting three feet away from you, but his hands are clasped together, his legs are opposite of yours, and he can't even look at you.

you can feel it, as you push him away. as you try so desperately to hold him close without touching him.

"okay," peter says, eyes meeting yours again. "i don't want to push you."

no, but he should pull you off of this ledge. should keep you from falling any further than you already have.

you shake your head, laughing. it's not funny.

"what?"

you close your eyes. count to ten. forget how to breathe, or how to speak to the person you love most in this world.

"what?" peter repeats, but softer.

you open your eyes.

and then it all crumbles.

you scoff. "can you stop looking at me like that?" you plead, breaking away, physically distancing yourself from him.

"like what?"

it's his fault, really, for coming home so early in the day.

"like you can't deal with this. like this is exhausting."

the tears sneak up on you, knocking you out before you even notice that they're there.

peter's eyes are wide as he stares at you. "you're not--" he swallows, frantically reaching towards you. "this isn't exhausting--i'm not--" a moment, tears beginning to fall. "what do you--"

you sigh, shaking your head. "you're always gone, and you come home exhausted every night after you think i've fallen asleep, and you only talk to me through text, and even now you just--" you stop, voice breaking. "if you can't do this," you say, softly, "then you should just tell me."

peter is closer than he was a moment ago. "what?"

"i know this is a lot of work, okay? and i know that you're already pushing yourself, so it's fine if i'm too much. if--if loving me is too much."

there's a moment of silence, and you're almost sure that peter has already left.

but then there's a thumb wiping a tear from your cheek. you can't open your eyes, can't face the reality you've been desperately holding off.

"you're not too much."

peter moves closer to you, his leg touching yours, his hands moving so that he can hold you closer.

you couldn't push him away if you tried.

"you're not too much," he repeats, the words sinking into your skin, his breath meeting yours. "i can't believe you would think that."

you half laugh, half sob. peter wipes away those tears too.

"you're the only thing keeping me going," he tells you, kissing your forehead. "i'm sorry i haven't been there. i didn't realize..." he shakes his head.

"you shouldn't have to take care of me as much as you do," you whisper.

peter nudges his head against yours. "hey. you take care of me way more than i take care of you. you clean up after me and stay up with me when i can't sleep. you help fix my suits, and do all of the laundry. and you never complain. you're practically my guardian angel."

"that's all easy."

"not for me," peter says, voice lighter than before.

you shrug.

"but you do all of that cause you love me," he adds, kissing your forehead again. "or, i hope that's why."

"it's the sex."

peter laughs, nuzzling his head into you. "well, at least you're honest. but, it's the same reason that i take care of you. you shouldn't feel... guilty because of that. you're no burden on me."

"no?"

"absolutely not."

you bite your lip. try and believe peter. but honestly, you're most lovesick from how close he's holding you. how you can feel his skin and listen to him speak somewhere that isn't your bed. you're not quite sure that this isn't a dream.

"hey," peter moves his head so you're looking at him. "we suck."

you laugh, leaning your forehead against his.

"i'm sorry it's been so long since we've... anything. it's been a rough couple of weeks."

"for me too. it's not your fault."

"you have to tell me if it's not enough, okay? i don't want you to suffer through it by yourself. if you need to talk to me--even for ten minutes--then you have to let me know."

"okay."

"do you promise?"

you nod against him, nose brushing his cheek. "i promise, peter."

peter smiles, satisfied. he groans, pulling you even closer to him. "i love you, bug. so much."

you can barely hear him because of how tight he's hugging you. it sort of hurts, but mostly heals.

"i know," you say back. but peter probably can't hear you, because you say it right into his shirt.

my masterlist here.

tags:@moonlarking-blog @v1ci0us @preciousbabypeter @alexxavicry @directioner5life @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @localrockstargf @thestudiouswanderer @take-my-hand-time-boy @thoughtsofagodlovingsunflower @nyomjoon @moo-b1tch @raindropstearsandtea @rqmanoff @hollandweather @wetcoldnoodle @urlocalavenderhazestan @valvlry @imthatcoolmom @spideysimpossiblegirl invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @sharkswaters @rowniebow @anaislfbv @take-my-hand-time-boy @mileyc111 @starsval @ratsys

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oncomingnight · 9 months

Text

Yandere! Boyfriend

Hello everyone, I'm very sorry for not being able to write for a decent amount of time but I'm finally back at it! I hope you all enjoy this piece and never hesitate in reaching out to me, I love hearing from you ♡.

Kristian grew up on a vast farm in Akureyri, Iceland. As a child, he absolutely adored going out to the shed in order to see the sheep and softly pet their coils of wool. His parents, Johanna and Ada, gifted him a tabby kitten on his sixth birthday to which he treated as his very own baby. Kristian really enjoyed collecting and watching VHSes as that's all he had access to, this lead to his immense love of film and his interest in making his own. He started filming himself as practice when he was just eight years old, resulting in videos his parents would later on show you during your first dinner together.

He adores gifting you homemade baked goods and seeing your reaction once the sweet taste falls on your tongue. You'll wake up to a savory aroma wafting in through the kitchen and find him flipping pancakes before cutting up fresh fruits, standing in just his blue plaid underwear. Kristian is the type of person to have cookbooks surrounding him as he gets ready to cook something up for the both of you, he follows the written recipe with his finger before getting all of the needed ingredients.

When it comes to celebrating certain things, Kristian goes all out. If it's your birthday, he'll order delicious pastries from high end shops like Dominique Ansel Bakery and Boulangerie Poilane. For him, the entire day is paused reserved for you and only you. Not only would he gift you the most precious presents anyone could ever receive, he'll purchase tickets for a month long trip.

The more time he has alone with you, the better.

When the two of you go out together, he brings his camcorder along. There's nothing better he can think of than him having these precious moments between the two of you recorded. He lays in bed late at night and watches back on these videos when you're, surprisingly, not with him.

Kristian is a tremendous fan of romantic music, whether that be old folk songs or modern songs of yearning. He listens to dozens of artists that are mainly known in Europe and that have a somewhat small support group in America. He will come up to you with a record in hand and say, "let's sit, I want you to listen to this."

He enjoys taking you to his hometown in order to show you his favorite areas but also for you to meet his parents. As soon as you enter his childhood home, the oak flooring creaks beneath your feet and the scent of Kjötsupa makes its way into your nostrils.

Johanna and Ada make you feel as if you're their lifelong friend, asking invested questions about your career, how the two of you met and the occasional teasing remark about marriage. Johanna momentarily leaves the table before coming back with a colorful wool sweater made just for you, "It's yours, Dúlla!" She says with a sweet smile spreading on her cherry colored lips.

While you and Kristian are on your way out the door when the night is coming to an end, Ada stops you and hands you a cardboard box with thread wrapped around it. Later, you'd find a box of Omnom chocolate bars along with a knitted bag that is decorated with tiny cartoons inside of the box she'd gifted you.

When Kristian has to make an errand when you're asleep, he always leaves a note on the desk in your shared bedroom. "I'll be back, honey, don't worry. I'm grabbing some coffee for us and a couple of treats from that market you like so much. Catch up on some rest ♡." On the bottom of the letter, you'll see little lovey-dovey stick men doodled onto the paper.

Now, this is the part I know you've all been waiting for.

Not to sound like a marvel movie with what I just said ^.

Growing up on a farm definitely has its perks, including gaining the knowledge of appreciating the land around him. This means he knows exactly how to store and hide seeds into the soil and have something beautiful sprout as a result of that. But, you know what else he knows how to hide in the soil?

Bodies. I'm joking, oh my goodness.

Kristian never wants you to see that aggressive and absolutely vile side of him. You're his sweet baby, you don't need to be subjected to such negativity. He'll release all of his aggression onto the subject of his anger, often resulting in his knuckles swelling and he even broke his hand one tine.

Has he not only beaten people that have bothered you but killed them, even? If you ask, then the answer is no. But everyone knows that's a complete lie. Kristian is a complete master at hiding his 'sins' from not only you but from the public. He'll ask his mother, Johanna, for assistance because who said she didn't do the same thing as him for Ada back in the day?

Maybe it runs in the family.

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cameronspecial · 6 months

Note

(I have a lot of ideas sorry for the spam)

drew x reader where he cooks all the time cause she can’t cook, but she starts to feel bad cause he cooks everyday. So before he come back from work she try to make dinner but she hurts herself. Maybe cut herself or burned herself on the stove and when he gets home, he sees her trying to hide her injury because she is embarrassed. He gets a bit mad but not like mad mad just worried mad yk? Like “what the hell happened? I told you i would make dinner tonight!” And she cry and be like “I’m sorry I just wanted to make you happy” and he comforts her and say she shouldn’t be sorry.

Kitchen Nightmare

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: Cooking Injury and Blood

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Masterlist

Y/N can’t cook. It is no secret on set that the girl is notorious for being a nightmare in the kitchen. The meat she cooks is always overcooked on the outside but raw on the inside. The rice she makes is always way too mushy or just hard as a rock. It’s like the universe only gave her the ability to cook food at either end of the extremities. The cast of Outer Banks loves her, but they dread going over to her house for dinner because it means they would have to utilize their acting skills to not make her feel bad about her cooking. When she started dating Drew, everyone felt relief that they would never have to eat her cooking again because Drew promised to take care of it. And Y/N was very grateful for that because the truth is that she hated cooking and she knew how bad she was at it. She never told her castmates because she found it amusing to watch them fake liking her food.

However, she is beginning to feel bad that Drew is always the one who cooks. She knows he is more than happy to, but she also knows that being the one to think of a meal every day can be stressful. Her decision to help him out tonight scares her, yet she is determined to do something nice for him. Ordering food didn’t seem like a personal gesture, so she asked his mom for the casserole recipe she knew he loved so much.

She feels like it is starting well. She has all the ingredients and the right tools. The first thing she has to do is get the chicken breasts out and washed. She is setting it in the pan and notices how thick the chicken looks. Her hand finds the packaging and realizes she made the mistake of not buying thin-cut chicken. She needs this dinner to be perfect, so she takes it out of the pan and gets it onto the cutting board. The knife shakily meets the chicken’s muscles and slices it apart. She always feared using knives. She knows how clumsy she is and can always imagine the disaster that would occur. Stuck in her own mind, it is exactly what happened. Her hand slips against the raw meat and the knife glides against her skin. A red line blooms across her finger. It is a scary situation and she knows she shouldn’t laugh, but the only thing that comes to her mind is a scene from Bob’s Burgers. Her cut is in the exact same place as Bob’s and now, all she hears is Linda saying finger crotch repeatedly.

Drew enters the apartment to the smell of raw chicken and the faint hint of iron associated with blood. What is even more scary than the unknown source of blood? Finding his girlfriend laughing hysterically with a knife in one hand and her other bloodier than a slaughterhouse. He rushes to his girl, taking her hand into his. “What the hell happened?” he questions, piecing the scene together as he looks around the room. “I told you I would make dinner.” Her crazed state is now dying down and her laughter turns to soft cries.

“I’m sorry I just wanted to make you happy. I know cooking every day can be stressful and that you miss your mom’s cooking. I wanted to surprise you.”

He feels bad about his harsh anger, pulling her into a hug with a kiss to the temple. “That’s really sweet, Sweetie. I’m sorry I was so angry. I just get worried when you cook. I don’t want you getting hurt,” he explains, combing his fingers through her hair. She nods. He gets a clean towel to apply pressure on her wound and gets his car keys out. He rushes her through the door. “Let’s get you to the hospital and then maybe to cooking lessons.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

#drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey one shot

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acourtofswiftiesandshadowdaddies · 4 months

Text

Lilies

part I | part II | part III | part IV

Helion x reader, rhysand x sister!reader

Warnings: fluff, making out, honeymoon bliss, suggestive

Summary: In which you and Helion are happy.

a/n most definitely another filler chapter but the one with drama will be out tmrrw and my schools starting in like four days so the drafts will come out slower

Helion was the best mate anyone could ever ask for. He could cook, he understood my emotions, gave me space, could give amazing cuddles and kisses, he was great in bed but most of all he cared.

In a sense no one had ever done before. When I wanted him home, he was home. When I visited him during a meeting he made me sit in his lap and glared at anyone who decided to mention it.

We had been mated for at least 6 months by now. And it was absolute bliss. Every single day he would wake me up with his head between my legs, every single night he would worship me like a queen. His kisses made my knees weak and my head dizzy.

Sighing at the thought of him kissing me, I continue trying my best at a dish that Rhysand used to cook for me as a child.

Just as I’m about ditch the recipe and head to his office, a strong pair of arms wrap around me.

Melting into his touch, I lean back. He kisses my neck and bites at my soft spot making me moan softly.

“Hey baby,” turning around my hands run through his beautiful hair. His lips find mine almost instantly. My back presses against the counter and I arch into his touch. Pulling him closer my fingers stray to the hem of his shirt.

“As much as I would love to continue this, I have to tell you something,” he pulls away. My kind is still reeling from his intense kisses. Nodding, I ask him to keep going.

“The Night Court wants to negotiate some stuff with us,” he told me.

Raising an eyebrow I beckon him to continue. “I want you to come with me, your first appearance outside of Day Court as High Lady, and I know what you’re going to say, that you’re not ready or you’re not sure, but I know that you’re ready, I also know how much you miss your brother and your nephew,”

He was right, I mean when was Helion ever wrong?

“I suppose Nyx should meet his uncle,” I sigh dramatically.

“Can you help me make this dish, Rhysand used to make it for me,” I ask him.

“Rhysand can cook?” he gapes at me in shock. “You can cook too sweetheart,” I lay a soft kiss on his adam’s apple and start gathering the ingredients.

“I know what you’re trying to make, you relax I’ll make it for you,” Helion says pressing kisses against my shoulder.

He’s elbow deep in flour, looking like an absolute vision. His golden eyes glint in the sun, his tan skin more prominent as the sun started setting.

We had decided to get this house because of its position and how the sun was almost always reflecting some room.

In the mornings it was our bedroom, during the day it was the seating area outside and during the evening it always seeped into the kitchen.

Not that I was complaining, it made the Day High Lord in front of me look softer and almost vulnerable.

“You’re staring, my love” Helion chuckles, his voice oozing smugness. “Is it so wrong for a female to enjoy the view her mate is providing?” I question, teasing.

“No I suppose not, you know I have to put this in the oven for awhile and we have some spare time,” he cheekily suggests.

“What shall we do?” I say feigning innocence. He circles around to the side of the counter where I’m sitting and gently holds my chin, “You’re so innocent right now but wait until I have you begging and writhing underneath me,”

I gulp, his words go straight to my core.

“What are you waiting for then?”

a/n AZRIEL U WISH THIS WAS U anyway don’t think they have ovens in acotar and i js watched the pjo finale and the way luke said annabeth broke me but like my husband looked rlly fine.

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alotofpockets · 8 months

Text

Not your typical date | Wanda Maximoff | Part 2

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: After meeting Wanda's kids and you spend more and more time getting to know her and her family.

Masterlist | Marvel masterlist | Words: 1.2k

Part 1 | Part 2

Since that first day that you had met Billy and Tommy, you spent the weekends that the boys were with Wanda at their place. The boys loved showing you a new recipe every week and you loved to learn every recipe that they wanted to show you. Unintentionally the four of you had started your own little tradition. Billy and Tommy loved having you around, and when they found out that you loved gaming as much as you did, they loved it even more.

On the weekends and throughout the week, you spent most of your free time with Wanda. The two of you continued to get to know each other and grow closer together. To be honest, it felt like you had known Wanda for a lifetime, in the best way possible. You clicked so instantly that you couldn’t remember your life without her. Over the months you had met her friends and her brother Pietro, you loved being a part of Wanda’s life. She had also met your friends and family, everything just clicked perfectly.

You were walking around the grocery store when you saw Wanda’s name pop up on your screen. She was working today, so you hadn’t expected her call, but picked up after the second ring. “Hi baby.” You say as you pick up. “Hi love, I’m so sorry to ask you this, but I desperately need a favor.” You hear worry in her voice, “Of course, anything.” You assure her. “I just got a call from the boy’s school that they have both spiked a fever, and they need to be picked up. I can’t get away from work, I have a meeting with the big bosses today and they flew in for this meeting. After the fishing trip thing with Vision, I cannot ask him to pick them up and I was hoping that maybe you would be able to. I know it is a lot to ask.” - “Hey Wands, it’s not too much to ask, I’ve got you. Just text me the address of the school and I’ll be on my way.” You hear Wanda release a deep sigh, “Thank you so much, I’ll let the teacher know you’ll be picking them up and I’ll come right over when my meeting is done. I love you, thank you.” You smile at how much she cares for her sons. “I love you too, baby. I’ll keep you updated on the boys.”

You grab a few ingredients for chicken noodle soup, and kids medicine before heading to the register, forgetting the rest of your shopping. When you arrive at the school the boys are both looking pale sitting at the nurses station. You had planned to take them to their own house, but seeing as they were nauseous and the car ride wasn’t helping much in that department you decided to bring them to yours instead, since it was closer to the school. Once inside you led them to the guest room, you had them sit down on the bed so you could take their shoes off for them. “Mommy always gives us one of her really big shirts when we’re sick.” Tommy says with a shrill voice. “Do you have those too, y/n?” You set their shoes to the side. “Two big shirts coming up.”

The shirts you grabbed turned out to be exactly what they meant. You helped them change since their bodies hurt too much to do it themselves. You tucked them in and said that you would be right back. In a couple of minutes you were by their side again with two cups of water and some of the medicine that you got. “Your mom said that this is the medicine you usually take at home. Here, this should make you feel better soon.” And handed each of them some. You also placed a cold washcloth on their foreheads since they were heating up again. “Okay, try to get some sleep, boys. I will be right outside if you need anything okay? And your mom will be here soon too.”

You walked into the kitchen and texted Wanda an update on the boys and told her that you took them to your place. She was in her meeting but you knew that she would be worried about them and would check her phone the moment that she had time. After that you started on the soup so that it would be ready for when the boys woke up.

About two hours after you tucked Billy and Tommy in you heard footsteps coming your way. “Hey guys, how are you feeling?” Neither one of them still felt nauseous, but they said that they still weren’t feeling great. You offered them some soup, they each took a few sips of the broth before saying that they were done with it. “That’s okay. Do you guys maybe want to watch a movie before your mom get’s back?” They picked out the movie that they wanted to watch and sat down on the couch on either side of you. Tommy leaned into your side so you wrapped your arm around his shoulder so he could comfortably lay against you. Billy saw his brother getting more comfortable and decided he wanted that too, so he laid down on the couch and put his head down on your lap. Your heart warmed at how comfortable the boys were with you and started the movie cuddled up with them.

You were so focussed on the movie that you missed the notifications on your phone, saying that Wanda was done with her meetings and was on her way to your place. She used the emergency key that you gave her, in case Billy and Tommy were still asleep. When she walked into the living room and saw the three of you cuddled up on the couch, all her worries left her body. On the way to your place her mind was racing, what if this was too big of a step too soon? What if the boys weren’t comfortable? What if you didn’t have the things that the boys usually wanted when they were sick? Seeing the three of you just peacefully watching a movie, and the boys were wearing some of your oversized t-shirts, she realized that the boys were comfortable with you and that you were with them as well. She walks up to the couch and kisses each of you on the forehead, as well as asking her kids how they are feeling.

After a shower Wanda joins you in the kitchen, while the boys continue to watch the movie. “Thank you so much for today.” Wanda says as she walks up closer to you and places a kiss on her cheek. “Do you mind if they stay until the movie is done? I’ll take them home after.” - “I don’t mind them staying at all. You can all stay the night, if you want to of course. I know the boys had some good rest in the guest room earlier.” Wanda was okay with that too, she was actually quite happy that she could stay and rest after her long day. You joined the kids back on the couch and finished watching the movie cuddled up together.

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider leaving a tip💗

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff fanfic #wanda maximoff fluff #marvel #marvel imagine #billy and tommy #billy maximoff #tommy maximoff #tommy and billy #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x gender neutral reader #wanda maximoff x y/n

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apolloanddaphnis · 5 months

Text

Eddie Munson x Horror!Bimbo Reader Headcanons Part Dos 🦇 🗡 💗

She loves dolls, like Barbie dolls. She has so many of them, she calls them all Marie Antoinette, and has each one in the case holding their own head.

Sometimes she wears Eddie's band shirts as a dress (he's a guy and it's the 80s so his shirts and jackets are oversized because let's face it our little coffin cutie isn't gonna be Nancy's size. Nothing wrong with her size because Nancy is hot and perfect her body is perfect but the group needs other perfect bodies.) And when she bends over he can see her thong because our neighborhood gore whore ain't the type to wear shorts underneath and protect her virtue.

Eddie. Goes. Feral!

He makes up any excuse to rub against her or touch her back.

Their friendship is already at the place where she sits in his lap. And at lunch it takes everything he has as she has her cunt that is only protected by a thin thong that presses between her slit, that is pressing against the crotch of his denim and wetting it. It takes every thing he has not to unzip and slip it in. Because that would not be friendship anymore...no...

He nearly cums in his pants again when she stands up when lunch ends to see her face flush.

Horror!Bimbo makes Eddie's lunch for school everyday. She makes him club sandwiches, double decker sandwiches, soups in a thermos, meatloaf sandwiches, she goes all out and his friends always weep with envy as they eat pb&js and baloney sandwiches.

She also goes over to the trailer often to make dinner. Excited constantly about trying new recipes, using her allowance money to buy the ingredients for her recipes. But Eddie doesn't allow that to go far, he always puts money in her pocket literally, has to force her to take it, doing more deals to make more money for her. Eventually she stops putting up a fight and takes the money because Eddie gets a 'do what I tell you or else' look in his eye.

She does his laundry and when she's over tidies his room up a bit and brings over fresh sheets from her place.

When horror!bimbo finds his playboy and penthouse stash she asks him if she would be pretty enough to pose for these magazines because she has always wanted to. "You're way sexier than Kim Morris bunny, but there is no way I'd ever let the world see that. "

Eddie would always drop casual dominance with her, and it always made you a fuzzy brained wet mess. Like whenever they walked through the hallways together and he'd gently guide her with a hand on her lower back. Or when they cross the street and he will hold his arm out in front of her until they could cross because one time she almost got hit in the parking lot. Or when he always has her sit either next to him or in his lap. There's also him always making sure she eats, asking "what did you have for breakfast?" "Did you remember to pack lunch?" "Sit, eat, you won't wait to serve us to eat your dinner." He even packs snacks for she so you can munch throughout the day. He nearly lost his shit when there was a time our coffin bimbo was starting a diet, only ensures and slimfast. "You're on some good shit if you think I'm allowing you to starve yourself and ruin your perfect body bunny, not on my goddamn life, you must be certified crazy if you think I would allow that!"

He makes her feel cherished and taken care of.

And when they go to a drive in movie or Benny's or anywhere he never lets her pay, and when she runs through her allowance quickly, he gives her more money.

She knows he's been working more to take care of her, so bimbo!reader will run him nice hot bubble baths because her Eddie works so hard for her.

She honestly loves being at her best friend Eddie's more than at home. Even added some touches to his room, like her stuffies, her favorite horror novels, her clothes, her soap, her skin care, hair stuff, perfume, just slowly nesting. Even brings Pyewacket and Socky (Socrates) over to be watched by Wayne during the day since he works at night. Pyewacket actually LIKES Wayne, maybe because he feeds him those Vienna sausages...

And when poor Chrissy Cunningham doesn't see it coming when reader notices her getting close to HER Eddie, and surprises Chrissy with spiders in her cheer locker..

#eddie munson x bimbo!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie fanfic #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x horror!bimbo reader

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danikamariewrites · 6 months

Note

PT2 to bring Feysands housewife, HOSTING FAMILY DINNERS WITH THE INNER CIRCLE 🤭😱 everyone praising you for your cooking, making the living room all cozy for game night, blankies, pillows, candles EVERYWHERE I need this to be my life asap 😩😩 I’m getting worked up just thinking about it

Housewife hc pt 2

Feysand x reader

A/n: I hope you liked part 1 anon ❤️ these two were so cute I loved writing them

Warnings: suggestive at the end

Family night was one of your favorite week nights

As much as you love having Feyre and Rhys to yourself you do love spending time with everyone (even though they are at the house everyday but this is different)

Tonight is all about fun and family. No work talk, no politics, nothing but food and games exist in this little bubble you create every week

The first time family night happened after you moved in you insisted on cooking. Rhys had asked you why since the house could prepare and serve the food. You told him it was nice the house did that but you liked cooking, it felt more personal and like the meal was full of love

You go all out for these dinners too, especially on holidays

You pick the bottles of wine for the night from Rhys’s collection in the cellar

You spend all day preparing ingredients for dinner and your favorite part, dessert

Once everyone gets to the house you bring out a small appetizer that Cassian is always the first to dig in to. That male can eat and he loves your cooking

Everyone mingles giving you time to lay out everything. You announce dinner once all the dishes are steamy and set

Something you pride yourself on is a well set dining table. Rhys has such pretty plates that he keeps in an cabinet and they deserve to be used along with the matching wine glasses and silverware

Everyone thanks you for making dinner and says how delicious everything smells

Cassian and Mor always give over the top reactions to your food. Elain always compliments you too and begs you to let her cook with you so she can learn your recipes

You love sharing recipes with her, especially for the pastries she makes. That girl is a bread wizard you’ll never understand how she does it

The conversation flows with the brothers and Lucien talking about what they’ve been up to at home. Lucien has been building Elain a green house while Az has taken on the project of building Gwyn her own library/lounge

You, Feyre, Nesta, and Gwyn chat about the newest Sellyn Drake book

You even talk with Amren about a new puzzle Arian got her

You and Amren have a special relationship. Amren wasn’t sure of you and your intentions with Rhys and Feyre, especially Rhys since it’s her job to look out for him and the court. Although she scared you you always made it a point to be kind to her

Months after the war she was still complaining about how she hadn’t really found food she liked. You offered to cook for her and the room went silent. Cassian and Azriel giving you a ‘do you really want to do that’s look. Amren gave you a curious, assessing look. Like she was figuring out if you would poison her or not

You just kept giving her your little airhead smile until Amren nodded, “Fine girl. Let’s see if you can make anything I would like.” Ever since then she had been a friend. Besides Rhys and Feyre, Amren is also very protective of you

After dinner you let the house clean up. You hate doing dishes and magic can make them spotless so why not

Moving on to the high light of the night, games!

You set up the living room earlier in the day. You always have to keep Rhys and Feyre out the whole day or they’ll mess up your set up before everyone gets there

You have all the pillows you can find set up on the floor and couches along with blankets so everyone can be comfortable

The large coffee table is moved to the center of the room with the games laid out along with the after dinner wine

You usual start off with a board game in teams, all the couples together while you’re with Feyre and Rhys

If Emerie isn’t there Amren and Mor team up which usually ends with them arguing with who’s in charge of the team

Games tend to get intense, especially card games where you’re all involved

The boys take poker very seriously

Nesta cheats and then loses on purpose to drive them insane

You all lose on purpose so it’s just the boys left, watching them yell at each other like children is so entertaining

Cassian is the biggest complainer before Rhys. He claims Lucien and Azriel have unfair magical advantages that can let them see other cards

Finally, when they’ve had enough of each other and are laughing hysterically everyone mellows out

After one more drink everyone heads to their rooms and Amren heads home

The 3 of you go to your shared room and they pamper you before bed

They do your skin care routine, Feyre braids your hair, and Rhys dresses you in one of his shirts for bed

In bed Feyre and Rhys squish you between them and give you small pecks all over your face and neck and shoulders

“Dinner was wonderful darling, you always do such a good job with family nights. We can’t thank you enough.” “You’re so sweet to do this baby.” They coo at you.

You get shy and blush, trying to hide your face from them

“Hey, don’t hide from us sweet girl. We mean it, y/n. It feels like you keep this family together more than we do.” Rhys says. “Thank you. That means a lot from you two.” You kiss both of them on their cheeks before laying back down

Feyre’s hand trails up your bare leg, tracing small patterns on your thigh

You smirk at her as Rhys attaches his lips to your neck, nipping and licking at you

“I think our sweet girl deserves a reward, don’t you Feyre darling?” “She absolutely does.” She says sweetly, dipping her head to connect her lips with yours

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ms-demeanor · 6 months

Note

my thing is I'm capable of any of this stuff up to at least level 3 and can do them for special occasions and if I've rested enough no problem, but I can't do it OFTEN because it just uses up too many spoons. any thoughts on this? besides practice, I already cook as often as I can (which is not very)

Mise en place your life as much as possible. I've talked about this before but this is what I do to make things easier on myself. My baking station with all the ingredients out and clearly labeled instead of at the bottom of the pantry where I have to dig for them makes it much, much, much easier to bake. My knife strip on the wall and the dozen cutting boards in a rack on the wall and the frying pan that lives on the stove instead of under the counter all make it much easier for me to cook.

Like, a lot of what I've been going through and doing in terms of home improvement/home decor is attempting to configure the house in such a way that large bastard and i can easily do the things we want to/need to do. We need batteries all the time, so the batteries live in an organized box where we can see it instead of in the back of the cabinet. We also need to *discard* batteries all the time, so the battery discard tub is right next to that box otherwise we'll start accumulating used batteries on surfaces.

The instruments that live on my kitchen counter are the ones that get used most often so that I don't need to go looking for them and so that I know at a glance if they're clean (if so they're in the canister on the counter) or need to be washed. The appliances that I use the most either live on the counter or get put places where it's convenient - I don't have enough bowls and plates that I need to use the top three shelves of my cabinet for bowls and plates like my parents did, but I do use my rice cooker twice a week so my rice cooker lives in the same cabinet as my dishes (as does my tofu press, my waffle maker, and the easiest-to-use 16oz food storage containers).

And you know what sometimes i just can't do it. Sometimes my back isn't working or my hip isn't working or i got glutened recently and I can't do much of anything.

I've got a variety of low spoon foods that I always have ingredients for (one recent addition to this list is tofu; i went from eating no tofu to eating tofu twice a week because two days a week i can't really use one of my arms to make dinner so i just prep the tofu at lunchtime and when i get home from the plasma center all i have to do is season and pan fry it and make a pot of rice. And I also make a shitload of extra rice because rice with eggs and sweet-spicy sauce is now one of my easiest and best go-to lunches) and whenever I make a pot of soup (something that I do pretty much every weekend when it's cool enough) I will make enough for lunch that week plus usually some extra to go in the freezer as backup "I don't feel like cooking" meals.

So, yeah I guess what I'm saying is get a good list of low-spoon foods that you like and can keep the ingredients handy for (ground beef goes bad in a week, tofu lasts like a month, i love tofu, it's so easy and so cheap to keep a bunch of tofu handy), and throw out the idea of what a kitchen is "supposed" to be like and figure out if there are ways to make your kitchen more adaptive for you.

Get anti-fatigue mats for your home kitchen. Get a tall stool that you can sit at while cooking at the stove instead of standing. Reorganize your cabinets for maximum efficiency for your needs. (large bastard and I have been doing this both with organized visible storage like wall racks as well as putting his stuff up high because bending over isn't easy for him but it is easy for me).

And also, like, consider if it's worth it, or how it can be worth it. How do you want to be a better cook? Do you want to be better at making meals for large groups or do you want to be more comfortable cooking for yourself or do you want a wider repertoire of recipes - all of those things will take a different path and some will be harder than others if you're wrangling disabilities that make it difficult to cook. I'm probably never going to be great at cooking for large groups because it doesn't really suit my lifestyle and it hurts! It hurts a lot and after hosting thanksgiving last year i needed to use my cane for a week because of how much it hurt my back! But I can work on stuff that makes it easier for me to cook, like having my baking station or keeping my rice cooker in an easy-to-reach cabinet.

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harryistheonlyoneforme · 1 year

Text

Could We Live With Just A Taste*

pairing: drug dealer(plug) harry x reader

warnings: drug use, intoxication, unprotected sex, oral (both receiving)

YESTERDAY

YN: What are you up to tomorrow night?

Harry: Nothing, why? That desperate for me already? I just had you crying on my cock yesterday😏

YN: Shut the fuck up, asshole. I have something I want us to try🙄

Harry: You’re no fun😐

YN: *sends a tiktok of vegan weed brownies*

Harry: Yeah, I’m down. I can buy all the ingredients and you can come over tomorrow night so we can bake them?

YN: That works

Harry: Liked “That works”

CURRENT DAY

Harry is currently at his local grocery store, glancing down at his phone as he scans the aisles for all of the ingredients he needs to execute the recipe that YN sent him yesterday.

He obviously has the CBD oil that’s needed for the brownies, but of course his home is not stocked with any of the other ingredients needed for it to work.

Before he left his house, he searched all of the cupboards for anything he could use in the recipe, and that was a reality check for him. He literally had no groceries, so he made a mental note to grab some along with whatever the recipe called for, as well as some things to cook and eat for a while. He also vowed to stop eating out as much, it’s truly a shame how much money he spends on delivery each week.

Once he has all of the ingredients and groceries in the basket, he makes his way to the front of the store, toward the shortest checkout line.

Just his luck, the shortest line is being worked by a woman about his age who has been ogling him and his tattoos since he walked in, but he’s completely uninterested.

She’s a gorgeous woman. Breathtaking, actually, but for some reason he doesn’t even look at her twice. He makes his way to the belt and places his items on, sliding toward the pay area as she scans them.

Her attention is mostly on him, not on the groceries, as she eyes his thick biceps and the tattoos that reside all over him. Once he’s directly in front of her, he notes that she bends forward a bit and pushes her shoulders together slightly to show off her cleavage, and both Harry and the bagger that looks to be a teenager roll their eyes at the futile attempt.

She goes to open her mouth, no doubt to flirt with him, but he speaks up before she can.

“I have a girlfriend,” he responds gruffly, sliding his card into the chip reader and ignoring the way her demeanour changed from flirty and bubbly to annoyed and rude.

He types his pin in and transaction is approved, and he chuckles to himself as she snatches the receipt from the machine and forcefully passes it to him, but he thanks her anyway and grabs his bags, heading out of the store and to his car.

He was lying, of course. YN isn’t his girlfriend, but she didn’t have to know that.

YN hums softly as she rinses the soap from her body and turns the faucet off, stepping out of the shower before wrapping her towel around her wet body.

She takes her time getting ready to leave, not wanting to leave too early and arrive before the time she and Harry agreed on. It takes her longer than normal to dry off and moisturize her skin, but once she’s done she has enough time to pick a comfy outfit

Her decided outfit is just some plain grey leggings with a black thong and a t-shirt that she’d stolen from Harry after she’d spent the night at his place, and she’d forgone a bra, as they always tug at her nipple piercings.

She’s barely able to contain her excitement as she sprays on some perfume, throwing on some shoes before grabbing her keys and phone to head out the door.

The bright sun in the sky makes her squint as she heads to her car, hopping in before exclaiming softly in pain as the seats and seatbelt buckle burn her skin.

She shakes it off and turns on the engine, letting the car get cool before she pulls out of the driveway and makes her way to Harry’s house.

On the way, she sees his favourite Chinese restaurant and decides to stop in to grab them some food, realizing just how hungry she was. It takes longer than she expected, but she’s honestly kind of happy for the delay, not wanting to arrive at his house on the dot.

A knock sounds on Harry’s door as he’s just sitting down and watching some TV, awaiting YN’s arrival. He hops off the couch almost too excitedly, opening the door to see YN smiling brightly at him and holding a paper bag to pass off to him.

She speaks up before he can, and he’s never been more glad for that, because he genuinely doesn’t think he can form words right now, and he’s just admiring how gorgeous she looks.

“I went and grabbed some Chinese on the way, I hope that’s okay?” she questions, and he just nods, still unable to form any words. She stands there awkwardly for a few seconds before she speaks up again. “Can I come in or…?” she trails off, chuckling as he snaps out of his trance.

“Oh, shit, yeah. Of course, sorry,” he tells her, moving out of the way so that she can enter. She heads straight for the couch as Harry closes the door before trailing behind her, mentally berating himself for being an actual idiot.

The two of them settle in on the couch before he passes her the remote to find something to watch, and he isn’t surprised at all when she chooses Jane the Virgin, the show they’d started binge watching together the last time she was over.

They dig into their food for a bit, but they get pretty full quickly, plus they want to save some room for the brownies. At some point during the episode, YN ended up cuddling with Harry, her body underneath his arm as she rests her head on his chest.

He doesn’t mind, of course, but it really is hard to focus on the show with how close she is to him. It’s like she can sense him staring at her, and she looks up with a small smile before sitting up slightly and pressing a kiss to his lips.

It surprises him, but he’s quick to snap back and leans down to kiss her again, deepening it slightly before biting down on her lip gently. That sends her over the edge, and she’s unable to keep her cool any longer, maneuvering her body and climbing onto his lap while their lips are still connected.

He groans into her mouth as she sits down right onto his erection, her warmth encapsulating his cock. He’s rock hard beneath her when she starts to grind against him slowly, providing pleasure to the both of them. The feeling makes him buck up into her as well, precum leaking from his cock and leaving a small spot on his pants.

Placing his hands onto her hips, Harry matches YN’s hips the speed of his own, working her on his lap through their clothes. It’s all so rushed and messy, but neither of them care, pleasure clouding their thoughts.

She groans into his mouth as he helps her along his erection, the friction from their thin clothes providing some much needed stimulation to her clit.

YN pulls away begrudgingly, trying her hardest to ignore the wetness that’s started to leak into her panties. Frowning, Harry tries to go in for another kiss and she grants him a peck before pulling away once more.

“Okay, okay. We’re never going to get to the brownies if we keep this up. Cmon, I’ll suck you off while they’re baking” she tells him, standing up and heading to the kitchen.

Harry’s never moved so quickly in his life, hopping off the couch clumsily, but he doesn’t follow her right away. He can’t help but stare at her ass in those tight leggings as she walks away, adjusting his pants a bit before following behind her.

Taking a look at all of the ingredients on the counter, YN pulls up the recipe and calls Harry over so they can get started, reading them aloud. The two of them move like a perfect pair as they mix all of the ingredients, and by the time they’re done the kitchen smells wonderful.

YN places the brownies into the heated oven as Harry cleans up the remaining clutter on the island, taking the oven mitts off and placing them on the counter. She leans back against the cool marble, just watching him move the things around before he’s making his way to her and trapping her in front of the counter, leaning down to press his lips to hers.

They kiss passionately before YN reaches down to the bulge in his pants, making him pull away with a groan. “If I remember correctly, I think you promised me something while the brownies are cooking,” he smirks, and she rolls her eyes playfully before dropping to her knees and tugging on his pants, right in front of the oven.

She spits in her hand a bit before stroking him slowly, his precum working as the perfect added lubricant. He moans softly as she does, but his breath gets caught in his throat as she leans forward, placing her lips on the head of him before taking him about halfway down.

The heat radiating off the oven is a nice touch, and she reminds herself to ask Harry to do something to keep her warm the next time she sucks him off.

It’s a gift, really, the way she can multitask this way; literally sucking a cock and thinking about other ways to keep warm the next time she does it.

Stroking what doesn’t fit into her mouth, she suckles on the head of him for a bit, dipping the tip of her tongue into his slit and humming at the bead of slightly salty precum that gets on her tongue.

“Shit, ‘s like you’ve been taking lessons on sucking cock. Your mouth is heaven,” he pants, thrusting shallowly into her mouth and throwing his head back when she gags on him slightly, closing around his sensitive head. “Ohhhh fuck I swear your mouth was made for me,” he whines, slamming his hand onto the island to stabilize himself, his knees buckling slightly.

She hums and chuckles around him at the reaction she’s getting, the vibrations sending shocks through Harry’s entire body. “Wait, shit. Do that again, ‘m close,” he warns her, choking on a moan when she does so immediately. It’s insane how quickly she can make him cum, no one has ever had this effect on him.

“Fuck me,” he sighs, shivering as a chill runs through his body. “I definitely need a break after that one, you just sucked the life out of me,” he tells her. squeezing his eyes shut as she tucks his sensitive cock back into his pants.

She laughs loudly at his words, and Harry has to squeeze his eyes shut as she tucks his sensitive cock back into his pants. They head to the couch and continue their show while the brownies cook, just as they did before.

When the brownies are done cooking, they let them cool for a bit before cutting them and eating them right over the pan, that’s how fucking delicious they are.

They eat two each before waiting a bit, watching some more TV as they wait for the effects to kick in. It doesn’t, though, and they’re confused when they feel as normal as ever.

With a disappointed sigh, YN speaks up. “Maybe we did something wrong, measured the oil wrong or something. I don’t feel anything,” she mumbles, snuggling into him on the couch.

“Yeah, we probably didn’t put enough, we can try again another time,” he encourages her, rubbing up and down her arm gently as he knows how excited she was for this to work.

She nods gently and lies her head on him, shifting her attention back to the TV as they continue watching their show, not feeling any different than they normally do.

By the time they’re about two more episodes in, they finally start to feel something. Their heads are floaty and their eyes are droopy, their bodies entirely relaxed.

YN is hyper aware of everything happening around her, all of Harry’s body heat, the fibres on the couch, and even the slight static that can be heard beneath the TV show, and it’s sending her mind into overdrive.

They’re high out of their fucking minds, and they’re realizing one brownie was probably enough to get them high. It’s too late now, though, and when Harry looks to YN lazily with those droopy eyes, she’s ready to jump his bones. She’s still soaked from the dry humping, and she can’t take this much longer.

“Do you wanna have sex?” she asks him bluntly, catching him by surprise. He’s speechless for a moment, but as his mind finally catches up, he sits up abruptly.

“Hell yes, cmon. Take your clothes off,” he tells her, making her giggle. She instantly obliges, standing up to take her leggings off and heading to his room, but he stops her and pulls her into his lap.

“No, need to see you get off right here,” he tells her, and she looks at him confusedly before he’s helping her out by moving her to straddle his thigh. “Y’gonna ride my thigh so I can see you fall apart before I actually get my hands on you,” he explains, the filthy words making her moan.

She immediately places her hands on his shoulders and moves her hips to test, a groan leaving her lips as the material of his pants creates the perfect amount of friction against her clit.

It’s way better than where they’d left off earlier, the removal of her panties and pants feeling absolutely life changing. To make the experience even more wonderful for her, Harry leans forward and takes one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking gently on the sensitive bud before pulling away breathlessly.

“Fuck, I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful” he whispers, keeping his eyes on her as he wraps his lips around her nipple once more, focusing on the reaction he gets from her.

He flicks his tongue around the silver barbell once more before catching it in between his teeth and pulling gently, prompting her to let out a guttural moan, the bite of the pain making her entire body tingle.

“Such a needy little thing, hm? Just so desperate for Daddy to take care of you?” he coos condescendingly, humming as she nods and quickens her pace, chasing her orgasm. She throws her head back slightly and her jaw drops as she starts to throb against the material, her orgasm so close she can practically taste it.

The filthy sight makes his cock twitch in his pants, and he can barely contain himself when she bites down onto his shoulder to conceal her loud moans as her orgasm takes over her, shooting through her body.

After giving her a moment to collect herself, he pulls her into his chest and stands from the couch on slightly shaky legs, wrapping hers around him as he carrie’s her up the stairs and to his bedroom skilfully, and neither of them know how he does so intoxicated.

Stepping into the room, he places her down on the centre before climbing on as well, lying on his stomach so that his face is right by her pussy.

“I really need to taste you,” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around her thighs before diving in immediately, no time wasted. Her back arches at the feeling of his tongue swiping between her swollen folds, her clit still sensitive from cumming on his thigh just moments ago.

“Shit!” she cries, reaching down to fist at his hair, tugging on his roots as he devours her, licking places she didn’t even know could feel pleasurable. She’s already close from all of the overstimulation, and when he shoves his tongue into her as far as it can go and his nose nudges her clit, she cums all over his mouth with a broken gasp, twitching and pulling away from the sensation.

Her chest is heaving as he sits up, his chin glistening with her orgasm as he climbs up and presses his lips to hers. She groans softly at the taste of herself on his mouth, reaching down to stroke his hard cock gently while their lips are still attached.

He’s definitely ready to go now, not as sensitive as he was when she sucked him off. Pulling away, he looks to her for permission. “Are y’ready for me or do you need a minute?” he questions, looking into her eyes for any sign of uncertainty.

She nods eagerly at his question, wrapping her legs around his waist in response. He immediately lines up with her sopping hole, angling his hips to slide into her. The feeling makes her gasp in shock, wrapping her arms around his shoulders so that she can bury her face into his neck.

The feeling of him stretching her over sensitive walls is like no other, and she wouldn’t trade this feeling for the world. She can feel each and every ridge and vein along his thick shaft, and his leaking head is nestled right against her g-spot.

All of these things have her bucking her hips in attempt to get him to move, desperate for another orgasm, this time on his cock. He obliges instantly, pulling out to thrust into the exact same spot once more. The fast pace he sets immediately has her seeing stars, the precise movements of his hips making her lose all sanity.

She’s already squirming and sobbing loudly in pleasure, trying to find some relief from his bruising thrusts, but he supplies her with none, knowing that if she truly needed to stop she’d let him know. They have safewords and signals for that exact reason. Not to mention the fact that he knows her body like the back of his hand by now, and he’s very certain of her limits.

“Wait- please, fuck!” she yells, her eyes rolling back as another inevitable orgasm builds, causing her to shake unceasingly, his thrusts unforgiving. “Can’t take it,” she whines,

“You can and you will, always do,” he coos. “I’ve got you, just cum for Daddy,” his soft words are grounding for her as his hips don’t falter, forcing her to take the pleasure. At that, she finally relaxes and lets her mind and body go, her orgasm hitting her so hard she chokes on her breath.

Harry leans down to press soothing kisses all over her neck and shoulders, keeping her close as he feels her start to squirt around him and soak his lower stomach. She’s shaking as she does, a loud wail falling from her dry throat.

It only prolongs her orgasm when he doesn’t stop thrusting deeply inside of her and by the time she’s finished squirting, wordless babbles are the only noises she can produce.

“Made such a mess for me, pet,” he rasps, sitting up and rubbing the evidence of her orgasm all over her thighs and making the mess bigger. “Gonna have to make you lick this up when we’re done,” he coos to her, making her eyes fly open at the meaning of his words.

That means they’re not done, and she groans at the thought of cumming again, but she wouldn’t ask him to stop even if the world depends on it. He truly fucks her so well.

Her over sensitive walls are fluttering around him as he adds some more depth to his thrusts, tears of pleasure falling from her eyes when he hits her g-spot. The pressure makes her eyes roll back, and Harry just has to say something about it.

“Such a dumb baby, look at you, all drunk on m’cock,” he teases condescendingly, bringing a hand up to her jaw and placing his thumb on her bottom lip to force her mouth open.

The moment it’s wide enough for him, he leans over and spits into her open mouth before tapping her gently, a silent command to swallow it. She does immediately, desperate to obey even when she struggles to do so. Her face scrunches slightly as he gives her a particularly deep thrust, grazing her cervix and creating the most delicious bite of pain.

“Y’always look so pretty when I’m fucking you, ‘s not like anything I’ve ever seen,” he praises, feeling his cock twitch inside of her in warning of his impending orgasm. “Bet you can feel me deep in y’tummy, hm?” he questions, and all she can do is nod at his words, starting to shake in his tight hold once again.

He doesn’t let up at all and she’s cumming again seconds later, locking down on him and creaming so much that it leaves a thick layer of her cum on the base of him.

He manages to hold off his orgasm until she comes down, and the second he feels her relax around him again he quickly pulls out and stands up shakily on the bed, YN sitting up onto her knees.

She looks directly into his eyes and sticks her tongue out as he quickly strokes his cock in front of her face, his face scrunching up in pleasure as his balls draw up. The icing on the cake was when she grabbed her tits, one in each hand, and plays with her nipple rings a bit, the contrast from the innocent eyes to the filthy action sending Harry over the edge.

His legs are shaky as he tries to stay upright, grunts and groans leaving his lips as he releases his load all over her tongue, but some gets on her face and even on her tits, making her look even filthier.

His chest is heaving and he’s breathing heavily by the time he’s all done, just eyeing the way she looks absolutely

“You never did have the best aim,” she teases, looking down at the mess on her chest before looking into his eyes innocently. “Now what should I do about this mess?” she questions in faux exasperation, before gasping as it she’s come up with an idea.

Harry’s eyes darken once more, his sensitive cock twitching as he watches her reach up to swipe her index finger through his mess, gathering some on the tip before slowly bringing it up to her mouth. Opening her mouth, she places the finger on her tongue before closing her lips around it and sucking, humming at the taste.

“Ass up, I’m not done with you yet,” he grits, gripping her arm tightly enough for him to manhandle her into the position he requested, stifling a groan as she arches perfectly for him, her swollen, messy cunt on display.

She’s so open for him, and he wastes no time in stroking his semi hard cock to get fully erect, lining up before sliding into her with a single, hard thrust. He starts a fast pace immediately, gripping her hips to pull her back and meet his thrusts.

The sound of her cries below him only spur him on, but she’s not loud enough for him. Not by a long shot. He needs to know that he is absolutely wrecking her. Lifting one hand from her hip, he lands it back down onto her ass cheek roughly, satisfied as her cries get louder.

He repeats the action on the other cheek, then again to the other and he keeps spanking her until he’s satisfied, knowing there’s a sharp sting beneath the soft skin and that she’ll be sore tomorrow.

Looking down to where they’re connected, he’s mesmerized by the way her ass jiggles against the skin of his thighs with each bruising thrust, and the filthy, squelching sound of their skin colliding only adds to his awe.

She’s leaking so much around him that every time he pulls away, he can see a thick string of her arousal connecting them, making his mind spin even more. The sight, the sound, and the feeling all overload his senses as his orgasm nears, his stomach clenching in warning.

“Baby,” he babbles, his hips still pounding against hers. “Gonna cum, please let me cum in you,” he begs, trying his hardest to hold off his orgasm until he gets an answer. He takes the opportunity to make her cum even faster, licking his right thumb before pressing it to her asshole, forcing his way past the tight ring of muscles.

Turning her head, she looks back at him with the filthiest, most fucked out face he’s ever seen. She’s literally so full that she feels she could explode, but she’s determined to keep it together until he fills her with his cum. “Yeah, yeah. Please, fill me up. Need it so bad, gonna cum too,” she cries, burying her face back into the duvet as he doubles his efforts, it seems like.

His brutal thrusts send the both of them over the edge with loud yells, her cunt squeezing him so tightly and milking him as he floods her, stuffing her full. He pulls out when there’s absolutely no more room for him, letting some of his cum leak out before helping her move onto her back.

He takes some time to admire how absolutely fucked out she looks, dried cum all over her and messy hair, her chest heaving as she pants. Her legs are spread enough that he can see his cum starting to leak from her abused hole, and he knows he has to document this.

Reaching over to his bedside table, he grabs his phone and asks her permission, which is granted, to take a picture of her like this. His camera clicks loudly in the quiet room as he takes a few of them, surveying how provocative she looks like this.

She’s still catching her breath for a few minutes, her body limp as she comes back down to Earth. The entire time, Harry is beside her, rubbing her arms and cooing softly to her to let her know that he’s there. When she’s finally back, he smiles softly at her before brushing some hair from her face.

“Bath or shower?” he questions, gently running his thumb over one of the bruises he’d left on her neck. Humming thoughtfully, she takes in how tired she is now and realizes she won’t be able to withstand a bath tonight.

“Shower tonight, and then we can take a bath in the morning to soothe our muscles?” she suggests, and he nods softly, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to her lips.

“Yeah, that’s fine. You need help getting up?” he questions concernedly, his mind spinning as he realizes he might’ve gone too hard.

An adorable chuckle snaps him out of his thoughts, and he looks down to see YN smiling up at him before climbing out the bed, heading to his bathroom.

He just shakes his head fondly and follows behind her to the bathroom, stopping and leaning against the doorframe as she turns on the hot water and lets it heat up before stepping in, immediately placing herself under the water.

She just relishes in the warmth for a bit, forgetting she isn’t alone until she sees Harry from the corner of her eye, a soft smile on her face as she looks to him.

“Are you going to stand there like a creep the whole time or are you going to join me?” she chuckles, grabbing his soap and starting to lather it on her body.

Standing up from the frame, the smirk never leaves his face as he steps in as well, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close before pressing his lips to hers. He pulls away with a smile on his face, the same one on hers.

“Be my girlfriend,” he whispers, making YN’s jaw drop.

“What?”

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