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#like i felt like i was looking over my own shoulder and i was self conscious about it
missmonsters2 · 5 hours
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Heya, i was wondering if i could ask a question about Under the light/you found me?
I'm assuming after under the light yn started her physio again and got better since it seemed she didn't have a limp. But I was wondering if it left any permanent scars? As I was wondering after their first time having sex after the break, wanda might have asked about it while they were in bed? Or when yn was undressed at some point had her back to wanda, she noticed the scars and delicately touched them?
I'd like to think she def had yns body memorised so seeing all the new marks made her want to etch them into her mind. But she also felt guilty, not being there in her time of need (even tho yn didn't want her to see anyway).
So yeah I was just curious whether wanda talked or focused her touch of them after she made love to yn?
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Under the Light || You Found Me
Hiii!! This is a mix between explaning and partially written behind the scenes!!
Yes, Reader finished her weekly physio in california and keeps up with her regular stretches and exercises to prevent her legs from getting bad. She still goes to physio monthly.
As for scars, there are definitely some on her legs. Particularly, there's one that starts mid-calf and goes up her thigh to her hip. It's completely healed over but the the scar healed as whatever lighter skin-tonned raised bump.
Reader typically never feels self-conscious about it, but the way Wanda gazes upon her skin, her fingers tracing over the scar can make Reader feel slightly uncomfortable in an insecure way.
"I love you. You're beautiful. You're mine and I'm yours." Is all Wanda ever says when she notices you're uncomfortable.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
They've talked about it a few times late at night when the world is sleeping but they're just basking in each other's presence in bed. The sheets rest just below their shoulders.
"I don't know," you say quietly. "I don't hate the scars, per se. I don't love them either. They're a reminder that I survived." The implied words that your best friend didn't hung in the silence.
Wanda nods because she feels the same way. "I understand. I feel the same way. Not because I think they're gruesome or anything. I love them because they are a reminder you survived and I'm so, so thankful. But they're also a reminder that I was a bad girlfriend—that I was a coward and neglected to notice."
You brush a stray strand of hair behind Wanda's ear.
"I think the way you look and touch them every day has more than made up for it."
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
There are times when you are in a mood, one that can't quite be explained.
It's your own fault really. Sometimes you neglect your daily streches and miss your monthly physio appointments.
Your legs hurt and you're cranky, and you just don't want Wanda to know.
"Why do you insist on hiding it from me?" Wanda scowls at you.
"Why are you always in my business?" you scowl at her back.
Wanda doesn't engage further, knowing that it'll only lead down to a horrid fight with you that ends up with the two of you feeling guilty.
"Lay down on the couch," Wanda jerks her head towards the couch and walks off to grab some icy-hot lotion.
"It's fin—"
"JUST LAY DOWN!" Wanda yells from the kitchen and you purse your lips before doing as she says.
"Just lay down," you mockingly whisper to yourself as you lay on your stomach.
Wanda comes with the lotion and hovers of you. She debates taking off your shorts but decides to leave it be since they're short enough.
Once Wanda's hands start working in slow motions, massaging your calf and slowly making her way up, and the lotion slowly warming up your muslces, you relax.
It's only about 10 minutes into the massage that you turn your head and watch Wanda's focused face but her eyes filled with concern and love that guilt wracks you.
"Sorry," you mumble. "Thank you."
Wanda eyes merely moves to look at you while she continues working. She looks back at your legs, her eyes trailing the long rasied scar. "I love you. You're beautiful. You're mine and I'm yours."
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anna-scribbles · 4 months
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reading old journal entries is like. i take myself firmly by the shoulders. you are not fundamentally evil you are just fifteen
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chuluoyi · 3 months
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✎ to my beloved
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- gojo satoru x reader
bad days don't mean the end of the world, and your husband is making sure you know that
genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, fluff, fluff—just gojo pampering you
note: my job has been so hard for me this week :') so yeah it's very self indulgent as i need a lil hurt/comfort and i think you should too~
a part of gojo's love entries
general masterlist
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This week... has been a total dumpster fire.
You were utterly exhausted, covered in grime and blood, a persisting headache made you almost black out, all while sitting in the hospital waiting room as survivor's guilt slowly consumed you.
Grueling paperwork, a new project, facing the higher-ups, being substituted to Kyoto for days, and then a sudden attack of a curse user on the loose.
In times of need, you were supposed to protect others— you are a jujutsu sorcerer.
And yet, what happened? Megumi suddenly bathed in his own blood. You barely managed to save him in time, and now you were waiting for the news that he would be okay.
Why couldn't it be you instead? You wanted to break down each time you replayed the scene that took Megumi out. It was so eerily similar to how Haibara was—
"Are you okay!?"
You whipped your head, surprised to find your husband pounding down the hall. Satoru looked unlike himself—he was disheveled, and when he saw you, he immediately dashed towards where you were.
"Satoru..." you voice came out in a croak, feeling the lump in your throat closing in. When he dropped to his knee, put both hands on the sides of your face, and then your body, feeling you over to check if you had any injuries—
You finally burst into tears.
"Sweets, hey..." Satoru immediately pulled you close, trying to soothe you. You were shaking in his arms and he tightened his arms around you. "What happened to you?"
"I-I was... w-with him..." you sobbed, burying your face in his shoulder. "S-Satoru... I-I'm sorry...! M-Megumi—"
Your husband immediately shushed you. "Shh... it's alright, yeah? He'll be okay—"
You were still inconsolable even as he held you in his embrace. He hadn't seen you like this... not ever since tragedies during your high school years ago. And he struggled to reconcile this sight of you with how you were back then.
"I-I s-should've stood in his way— t-that way, he won't be hit—" you hiccupped as you poured your heart out and clutched at his shirt. "I-It would be f-fine if it... was me—"
But all thoughts flew when he heard your words, and suddenly he felt so angry—
"What do you mean?" his voice was so low and sharp that it startled you. "How will it be fine if it was you?"
You stiffened, and Satoru gripped your shoulder, pulling away to look you right in the eyes.
"If something bad happened to you... how is it fine?" he emphasized with gritted teeth. "Where do you get that kind of bullshit from?"
Your lips were wobbling as you sniffled. "At least... i-it isn't him—"
"If you got hurt, how do you think it'll make me feel?" Satoru posed the burning question on you next, his cerulean eyes glinting with silent fury, and you almost recoiled.
"T-that's...!"
"I'll wreak havoc if anything ever happens to you." His tone was harsh and forceful. "So if you think you can just—"
"I'm tired!" you screamed then, and he was stunned, wide-eyed as he took in your outburst. "I-I'm just... I've had enough of this— this shit! I want to quit!"
You were openly weeping, and this time, Satoru felt his heart lurch. You looked so heartbroken and utterly inconsolable that his first instinct to protect you took over.
"Then quit." He rose and took a seat next to you, before cradling you closer and pressed your head against his chest. "Even if you quit, I'm still here. I can protect you well enough. I don't like you being a sorcerer anyway."
You were his beloved wife and he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be happy and smiling.
He let out a disgruntled grunt. "Did you know how I was when I heard from Ichiji that you were at the hospital? I thought I might go mad thinking something had happened to you."
You sobbed harder at his words.
"It's perfectly okay if you're tired," he affirmed, patting your back gently. "If you're fine with giving up everything, then I'm on board too. Whatever makes you happy, sweets. Just... don't think of anything that might hurt yourself. Don't think of anything that might make you leave me."
You didn't know you needed to hear it. Right at that moment, your heart swelled with warmth. All your feelings were validated, and even if you chose to let go of everything, Satoru would accept you as you are.
You felt safe, so incredibly and irrevocably secure.
"Whatever happened this time..." he breathed out, feeling the dampness in his chest, his fingers gently combing through your hair. "It's not your fault. No one will blame you. I don't blame you, and Megumi won't too."
Your sniffles quieted down a bit at his words, and your throat still felt tight, clogged with tears.
"H-he... looked s-so much like Haibara... w-when—"
"Shush, he does not. Megumi will be okay. You will too, hmm?"
And just like that, you let go of everything and surrendered your entire being into his arms.
Clinging to him, you finally believed, in whatever shape or form it might take, you would be okay.
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A week later, Megumi was discharged after being cleared by the hospital. His wounds were thankfully shallow, and you cried in relief when he woke up.
And after escorting him back, later that night, you laid on top your husband...
Your weight on him felt like a comforting reassurance as he gently patted your back. Satoru couldn't help but smile when he saw how peaceful you looked, like a baby about to fall asleep.
He couldn't resist and planted a firm kiss on the crown of your head.
"Mmm?" you looked up at him, eyes fluttering open, and he cracked a grin.
"What?"
"What?"
"Can't I kiss my own wife? When she's adorable as heck too."
"You..." your lips curved into a bashful, yet exasperated smile, poking his chest in the process.
"Heh."
You drew circles on his broad and sturdy chest, noting how his arms extended and feeling how your toenails only reached a little past his knees. "Your arms and legs are ridiculously long. You are like an oversized plushie."
Satoru snickered. "Well, isn't that good? You don't have to buy them anymore. I can be your personal talking plushie."
"Ew." You hit his chest playfully, and he pushed your bum forward until you were face-to-face with him. He smooched you on the lips, and you giggled afterward.
His eyes shone as he stared at you, breaking to a smile himself. "Finally smiling. Pretty."
"Satoru..." your eyes found his, and you marveled at how sparkling they were. Seeing him so close, even after being married to him for more than a year, made your heart skip a beat. "I..."
"Hmm?"
"I want to keep being jujutsu sorcerer..." You had thought about it ever since, and you still arrived at the same conclusion. "It's true if I give up on it, you'll still keep me safe and all, but..."
Your husband waited for you to continue, still smiling, blinking expectantly.
"...this is something I have to do. I know there will be more hard days ahead, but believe it or not, I... found purpose in doing this," you said, shifting your gaze away from him. "It makes me feel... I can be useful. Even if I'm not special like you, I can still contribute in my own small way..."
How you pressed up against him, the way you looked hesitant and yet convinced at the same time... Satoru thought you were the most precious thing there was.
"Then keep going. I'll still be here too." He hugged you tight then, surprising you. "Just let me know when you feel like you need a long leave, and I'll definitely give you the solution."
"Eh? How?"
"Easy... I can just put a baby in you~ They won't deny you maternity leave or put you in missions~"
"...Satoru, you're—" You shot him a look so unamused, before resigning with a sigh. "Never mind... alright, sure, whatever you say."
"Ooh! So does this mean you want to try now?!"
"—? No, not now yet—!"
"When? We have to try one of these days before some meddlesome aunties ask us when we will have kids!"
Being sillies like this made you so glad that you had him in your life, and that you married him. And if he felt the same way as you... then you really thanked the stars for it.
You huffed, yet wrapping your arms around him in return. "Satoru, you're a clown."
"Your personal clown, you mean. Right~"
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gremlingottoosilly · 4 months
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Blind!Reader who accidentally bumped hard into Mafia!Konig, hard enough for to Konig thought it's some punk who wants to pick a fight with him but only to find a cute girlie with a walking stick that sprawled on the floor because of the wall of meat he is (feel free to use the "you hurt your ankle!?" excuse for him to take Blind!Reader for his own)
Konig was ready to kill when he felt someone bump into him. A fucker should be blind not to notice this wall of muscles and bottled anger coming his way - and Konig sure as hell would make them blind if they are dumb enough not to look around when they are walking. His hand goes to grasp his gun - an instinct, in case the fucker wasn't just dumb, but an enemy...and then he hears a whimper. Clacking of a stick falling to the ground. Cute whimpers. Female whimpers. The "oh my god, sir, I'm so sorry, I didn't want to bump into you, but they changed the street layout since winter and-" God, you were fucking adorable. Precious. Pretty. Cute. Whimpering like a kitten when he helped you stand up, letting you clutch on his hands as a guiding line. Supported you by your waist while handing you the walking stick - and not letting go of your body even as you were trying to stand up without being wobbly. He knows you're probably fine, you didn't fall that badly, but he grasps for straws in trying to keep you by his side. Apologizes, even, his nervous and anxious self returning for a second as he understands that the situation isn't about possible murder. It's about possibly finding a cute girlfriend. Now, he obviously can't leave you to fend for yourself. Konig doesn't care that you survived on your own and is perfectly fine without him - he also doesn't care that you really hate having him dote over you like you're some helpless creature. He needs you by his side, preferably under him, and the fact you survived for so long on your own actually doesn't say anything - he needs to protect you, even if it means being as overbearing as possible. Even if it means simply picking you up like a lost cat and getting you over his shoulder, squeezing your ass one time before packing you into a dark vehicle. You can calm down by trying to memorize his face through your hands, and he can memorize himself with the curves of your sweet body. God, he is going to enjoy making you his...even if it means locking you up in his mansion so no enemy could use you to get to him.
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cute-little-crow · 20 days
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Based on a request by 💌 anon on how Sylus might react if he finds out you’re ovulating…
tw: female reader, talk of ovulation, implied breeding kink, Sylus has a strong reaction to the news, mention of birth control, NSFW throughout but part two will be worse 😈
Part Two
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Fragrant water sloshed over the edge of the tub, your skin slippery from the concoction of essential oils added earlier in the hope of relieving your aches and pains. Your hand slid against your body, glossing over hardened nipples and dipping past your navel towards the dull, throbbing ache between your legs.
Your eyes remained stubbornly closed, thoughts of the debauched nature swirling in a vortex of crimson and obsidian feathers. God, you wished you could admit everything to him… admit that you were struggling, but it wouldn’t be fair to press your burdens onto Sylus.
That was why you had avoided him as much as you could. Why you had dodged the touches he tried to brush against your skin, worried that one touch alone would be enough to give the game away. That he would know from the blazing heat of your skin that things were not as they seemed.
You knew it bothered him, not that he had said anything on the subject, but it was only a matter of time. Sylus was not one to be denied.
As if summoned by thought alone, a sharp knock punctuated your daydreaming. Sinking lower into the tub until your chin hit the waterline, you listened as the low rumble of Sylus’s voice drifted through the door.
“Can I come in, sweetie?”
A tiny part of you wanted to refuse him, but that would be cruel, and cruelty was not a part of your nature, not even in your current state.
Vermillion eyes locked with yours, curious and if you weren’t mistaken, concerned. Sylus sat on the edge of the bath, his back resting on the ceramic tiles whilst he cocked his head and let out a weary breath.
“For a minute, I didn’t think you would let me in,” he admitted whilst carefully rolling the sleeves of his shirt to the elbows. “You’ve been avoiding me, kitten, why?”
You glanced off to the side, heat warmed your cheeks at the accusation. How did you tell him that it was for his own good? He didn’t need you distracting him unnecessarily with wants that made you blush and squirm with embarrassment.
Splash…
His strong hand plunged into the steaming water and wrapped around your ankle. He thumbed across your ankle bone delicately, long fingers splayed around your heel and towards your arch.
“Talk to me.”
The words were followed up with a squeeze of his hand, eliciting a moan that you couldn’t suppress. The corner of Sylus’s mouth twitched upward into a subtle smile, his grasp loosening to run the length of your calf.
“Sylus… I—it doesn’t matter. I’ll be okay, in a few days I’ll be back to my old self.”
“A few days? Nuh-uh, sweetie… I am not prepared to wait so long and I am certainly not willingly to have you continue to avoid me. What’s wrong? Are you sick?” He asked, brow furrowed and the first tendrils of his power leaked out to wash over you.
The power called to your own, entwined around each other in a lovers embrace, twisting and writhing. You weren’t sure if he felt it too, though if you were more present of mind you might have noticed how his breathing had turned shallow and his fingers had stopped massaging calf.
You licked over your parched lips. Gaze low-lidded as desire overrode your previous reservations.
“I’m… can you not look at me like that whilst I tell you this? It’s not helping.”
“Looking at you like what?”
“Like you’re going to devour me whole.”
Sylus huffed a laugh. “I just might, but fine. I’ll close my eyes, how about that?”
He was so handsome and that was certainly a large part of the problem. You’d lost count to the number of times you had fantasised about him soothing the ache in your belly. A large palm pressed against your soft belly whilst he thrust into your hot, wet cunt. His silver hair tickling your shoulder as he marked the skin of your neck, blowing cool air across the blooming bruises. Filling you up over and over until sleep took you hostage and you could happily drown in the fatigue of overused muscles.
“I’m ovulating,” you finally conceded, rushing on to explain. “It makes me feel needy. My body is hypersensitive. I’m prone to my emotions getting the better of me. Picking fights over nothing. Letting jealousy win. It’s a lot and I’m trying not to let it affect you…”
There was a weighty silence, filled only with the gentle sway of the water, and then it was broken.
“Ovulating. You’re… shit—well, that explains a thing or two.”
His eyes were positively glowing. His jaw set into an expression of pure agony. If looks could inflict damage you knew you’d be bloody beneath his dangerous maw.
Sylus was pure predator and you were the only prey he ever wanted to both consume and protect.
“Soft or rough?”
The question didn’t make sense and you frowned in confusion, nose wrinkled.
He answered by submerging his arm into the tub, right between your legs. Not even your attempt at closing your knees together would hinder his progress, not until he cupped your sex.
“I am giving you a choice,” he grit out, jaw flexing, “on how the next few hours are going to go. Either way, you will be asleep in my arms and content by the time I’m finished.”
“Oh, Sylus~”
Sylus groaned. His middle finger rubbed along your slit swollen with heat and desire, dipping through the hot flesh like a knife through butter.
“Don’t. Don’t say my name like that or I’ll make the decision for you,” he warned.
Saliva filled your mouth, runny and hot. “Rough,” you purred, letting your pussy answer for you. “But Sylus… I’m not on birth control right now.”
Sylus, who had started to rise to his feet with his arm dripping and his shirt sleeve dark with water, paused. He turned his gaze on you once more and your spine arched off the porcelain tub, nipples peaked and swollen emerged from the fragrant water.
“Stop talking, princess. I’m already a hair away from plucking you from the water and taking you on the bathroom floor like a dog.”
He strode for the door, ripping it open with such force that you shuddered.
“Five minutes. You have five minutes to get out and get onto all fours on our bed. I want to see my pretty pussy glistening and ready for me… maybe I’ll fuck a baby into you, if you’re lucky.”
You asked for rough… you were going to get it.
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an: part two coming soon… dividers by @/roseschoices
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miaoua3 · 30 days
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Stay The Morning?
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Pairing: CEO! scoups x f!reader
Genre: shameless smut (MDNI), one night stand, meet cute, rich ceo x normal girl, morning after, the whole encounter described through flashbacks, mentions of previous cheating
Description: after your previous boyfriend cheated on you, your friends allowed you three weeks of mopping and self loathing before they drag you out of the house and into a bar. little did you know that a certain gentleman will be there and that he will change your world for a night
Note: i went out with my friends, we jokingly went to our local perfume shop, i found cheols perfume (hermes h24), it made me ovulate….bon appetit.
Warning: barely proofread, read at your own risk lmao
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
to say that walking in on your boyfriend and his coworker shagging in your own bed after you’ve decided to come home earlier to surprise him with a warm and delicious cooked meal messed you up a bit was an understatement.
his apologies fell on deaf ears, partly because you didn’t want to hear it and partly because a sudden ringing appeared to be echoing in the shell of your ear.
overcome with rage, you packed all of his stuff in some plastic bags from previous shopping trips, all while he tried to talk to you and explain that ‘it isn’t what it looks like’.
what a bucket full of bullshit.
deciding that 5 bags worth of stuff should last him a few days, you threw them in front of your door before pushing your now ex in the hallway too.
in his boxers only.
but then, your bravery seemed to have disappeared. while your ex was trying to make excuses explain to you the situation, you haven’t let yourself feel a single emotion other than rage and betrayal.
the moment you slammed the door in your ex’s face though, you felt all the emotions suddenly hit you and you crumbled, letting the tears fall down your face.
in these situations, you always find yourself doing the same thing.
and that is call your two best friends.
in the matter of minutes they were in front of your door, with all the necessities like ice cream and tissues.
and they comforted you. for the whole nights.
and the rest of the week.
and the week following that one.
and then third week week too.
well, at least, until friday evening.
at 6pm sharp, your friend, sana, unlocked the door and kicked them with her foot, your other friend jihyo not far behind her.
only to find you on your couch, watching tv with dead eyes, a bucket of ice cream on your lap (now mostly in a watery consistency).
at the sudden outburst, you looked at the direction of your front door with shocked eyes.
sana, having had enough of your bullshit, marched up to you and pulled you up by your arm, “okay that’s it, go take a shower, we’re going out, i have had it with your bullshit. god, you stink, when was the last time you at least put on deodorant, bro? disgusting.”
you, still being in shock, had little space to let out a complaint at her rambling, until she basically pushed you in the bathroom, making you trip over your own feet, before she closed the bathroom door in your face.
after a second, she yelled “oh and shave your legs and everything else, we are getting you laid tonight!”
by the tone of her voice, you knew that you had no choice but to do as she told you. knowing her, she would make the heavens move just to have her way.
an hour later, you were dressed in a little tight cherry red dress, your makeup done by your two friends, hair perfectly done, a black leather jacket resting on your shoulders, your arms intertwined with the arms of your friends, pulling you out of your apartment and down the stairs.
something in your stomach was telling you that that night wouldn’t go as your friend had imagined it. realising this, you raised your concerns.
“guys, while i really do appreciate this, and im sure we will have so much fun, i don’t think i will be sleeping with anyone tonight. it just feels too soon and im not sure if it would be a good idea for me to do that.”
sana scoffs and replies “girl please, your heart is in your vagina, and currently it is broken thanks to the dumbass that you decided to date even when I specifically told you not to, it just needs to be a big dick that will sprinkle some of its fairy dust on it and it will be as good as new-“, she tried to continue, but jihyo decided to interrupt her by letting go of your arm and using the same hand to reach behind your back and smack sana across the back of her head, full force, making her head fly down.
“stop spewing nonsense, even if we wanted to we can’t make her do anything she doesn’t want to do. plus, if she thinks it wouldn’t be a good idea then it probably isn’t, just because it would work for you doesn’t mean it would work for her.”, jihyo defends you as she intertwines your arms again and rubs the back of your hand with her other hand.
sana just mumbles “we will see about that” in response.
after a few minutes, you reach the bar that you visit semi-regularly aka whenever the stars align and all three of you happen to have a free day on the same day.
sitting at your usual place at the bar, sana orders for all of you before you can even try to protest about how you weren’t in a mood for heavy drinks.
as jihyo and sana are talking between themselves, you look around the bar, just to people watch for a bit, see everyone that is mingling in this bar.
and then you see him.
at the other end of the bar, there sat a man so beautiful it made all of those butterflies you felt on the way to the bar roar together into a chaos.
oh.
he’s so beautiful is the only thought that could cross your mind as you observed him. short black hair neatly styled in a way that it compliments all of his features, dark and thick eyebrows pulling your attention, big and plump lips set in a gentle smile. letting your eyes travel, they end up on his arms, observing how tight the black button up looks on him due to his buff physique. your wandering eyes come to his hands that are resting on the top of the counter, one crossed while the other is playing with the glass filled with dark liquor.
seeming that you have zero self control left, you let your eyes wander back up to his face, to admire the face that you could only describe as if it were sculpted by the gods themselves.
only to find his dark eyes already watching you.
quicker than a thunder, you turn your head towards your two friends again, feeling how hot your face feels due to being caught by the perfect stranger.
you try to go back to the conversation that your friends are having, as a distraction from the most perfect man that you have ever seen in your entire life.
what you fail to notice is that the stranger’s eyes stay on you, caressing your figure with his hot gaze, stopping every few seconds on one of your features, as a way to take not of every little detail and memorise it.
after half an hour, you finish your first drink (that tasted only mildly disgusting due to amount of alcohol it had in it). but it seems that with every sip you took, your self control would lessen and your eyes would stray in the direction of mr.perfect (as you started calling him in your head).
only to snap your head right back because he would already be looking at you, gentle smile playing on the edge of his lips.
the entire time you felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment, excitement and nervousness. to be completely honest, you forgot how it felt to be excited to have got somebody’s whole attention on you, and to have your own attention solely focused on them.
all the butterflies you felt as you were walking to the bar seem to only duplicate with every little exchange of glances between you and mr.perfect.
just as you raised your hand to get the bartender’s attention, a deep “um, excuse me?” came from your right, making you pause your action to turn your head.
and your breath catches in your throat.
because one and only mr.perfect was standing right there, towering over you due to you sitting and him being so very tall, clad in all black, the sleeves of his black button up rolled up to his elbows, the first few buttons undone, giving you a peak to his strong and defined collarbones, a gentle smile teasing the edges of his mouth.
and his gaze.
oh his gaze was burning you from the intensity of it, making goosebumps arise on your skin.
seeing that he got your attention, he continues with a boyish smile “i was just wondering if i could buy you your next drink? it’s just that- i saw you across the room and i thought that you were absolutely beautiful, and my mom taught me that beautiful women should never pay for their own drinks a-and im rambling aren’t i?”, he finishes with a low chuckle, shyly rubbing the back of his neck.
looking at him, it would seem that a cat got ahold of your tongue because you proceed to just stare at him, both of you waiting for you to say anything.
luckily, jihyo comes to your rescue, behind your shoulder smiles at the stranger and says “she would love to!”
breaking out of the trance, you look at her shortly to see her nodding her head encouragingly, before looking at the stranger again with a blushing face “um, yes, i’d really like that”.
he smiles at you, before calling the bartender over. you tell him your order before he directly gets to work.
as your drink is being made, the stranger smiles at you and puts out his hand for a handshake (his beautifully big, veiny and manly hand, adorned by a ring on his middle finger and an expensive watch on his writs) “my name is choi seungcheol, may i ask for yours?”
blushingly, you put your hand in his and introduce yourself. making some small talk, you learn that he is currently 29 years old, and that he’s here with some friends for a friend’s birthday.
just as you were about to ask him what he does for a living, your drink gets put in front of you, breaking the flow of the conversation.
seungcheol, seeing that the only reason why approached you is done, gets up from his sit next to you, “well, your drink is here, i’ll leave you ladies alone now, thank you for allowing me to pay for your drink, enjoy the rest of your night”. he smiles gently before he starts to go back to his friends.
you weren’t lying that alcohol messed with your self control, because in the time it took him to make three steps, you were up and out of your seat, way too loudly than necessary saying “um-!”.
hearing you behind him, he turns around and to see your flustered face, questionably looking at you.
seeing that the cat is already out of the bag and that you already embarrassed yourself as it is, you continue “y-you know, you could buy me the next drink too? o-or, well, you could just- you could offer me a longer conversation instead? um, actually, i-i’d prefer that to a drink.”, you finish with almost to none dignity left, your entire face burning from embarrassment.
seungcheol, in return just smiles.
and the butterflies go wild again.
oh, no.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
waking up, you notice that your room is suspiciously bright. like, way too bright for it to be your room.
the thought makes you jump and sit up automatically, only to notice the lack of the clothes on your body, making you pull the duvet over your chest.
looking around the room, you realise that you were in somebody else’s bed.
and looking to your right, you get the answer as to whose room it is.
seungcheol is sound asleep next to you, shirtless, laying on his stomach with his face turned towards you, his lips set in a cute little pout, his back muscles moving and flexing with every exhale that escapes his mouth.
and his back. oh. my. god.
there were nail scratches all over his back, making it look as if a wild cat had attacked him. but it wasn’t a cat that attacked him, was it now? no it was your doing.
looking around the room, you realise just how much more spacious it looks in the daylight. actually, everything about his condo is big and spacious (as well as everything about him-).
noting every little detail around the room and thinking about how much everything must’ve cost. but it probably didn’t make that much of a difference to him. no.
because choi seungcheol wasn’t just anybody.
he was a ceo of…some company whose name you can’t remember because you were…occupied with something else when he was explaining it to you (read: occupied by watching the veins in his forearms move with every move of his arms that he made).
the fact that he hid that from you up until the moment you walked into his condo makes you mentally scoff at your cluelessness, because who else would wear a watch that size if not a ceo of a company?
you were willing to ignore the big watch. you were even willing to ignore the ridiculously expensive-looking audi that he drove you in to his place. even the underground garage that he drove into.
but walking directly out of the lift and into the biggest condo you have ever since with the whole wall being just one giant window? oh, no way in hell were you going to let it slide.
turning around to look at him questionably, you feel his hand that’s on your back rub slow circles, and his smile turn into a sheepish one.
“so, just a businessman huh?”, you question his previous answer with a raised brow.
in return he chuckles, “well, i am a businessman technically, i just never mentioned that i was a ceo of a company”, he answers before he toes off his dress shoes and walks in what you were sure to be a kitchen.
you follow him, slowly observing the ginormous living room that you find yourself into, before stopping in front of the big window. his condo had to be the best in the whole of seoul, because the view that you are looking at right now is enough to leave you breathless. thousands of lights from all across the seoul make it look like the night sky.
after a minute you ask him “why didn’t you tell me what you really do? there wasn’t really a reason to hide something like that so i assume that you had a bigger reason for not telling me.”, you turn your head back to be able to see him clearly.
he stops pouring you two drinks for a moment, looks upwards with furrowed eyebrows for a moment, before looking at you with and with upmost sincerity answers “you just didn’t seem like the type of person who would care about things like that.”, he turns his head back to the glasses in front of him before he continues “plus, i was sitting in front of the most beautiful woman i have ever seen, i much rather talk about you and get to know you than talk about my boring work.”, he chuckles as he finishes his thought.
his answer was so simple, yet it got your breath catching in your throat.
you can’t remember the last time somebody really cared about you and who wanted to get to know you, to learn about all the little things about you.
your gaze finally falls on seungcheol’s back again, and on your artwork.
you feel the heat on your cheeks worsen, the longer you look at the marks on his big and muscular back. the heat to your face isn’t the only thing that looking at his back brings to you, but the memories of last night as well.
although your eyes are focused on the view in front of you, you can feel that seungcheol was walking slowly towards you, until he was standing directly behind you. slowly, you see his hand appear in front of your face, holding a glass of water. carefully, you take it from his hand, saying a quiet “thank you” before taking a little sip of the water.
you gently put the glass on the little table holding a vase to your left, before looking in front of you again.
ever so slowly, you feel him inch closer to you, until your back is brushing his firm chest. his smell has your mind clouded-he smells so good, not too strong like most men do, but just enough to have you taking a deeper whiff of it. such a pleasant smell, it had your eyelids closing in satisfaction on their own.
ever so lightly he places his hand in your hip, his hold on it getting firmer with each slow second. at this simple touch you find yourself gasping lowly, goosebumps raising on the skin of your arms.
you can tell by the precision of his moves and how he takes his time with each action of his what kind of lover he is. the type to make you feel safe and relaxed. the type that would put your pleasure in the first place. the gentle but firm type.
the type to be the best you have ever had.
another step, and his entire front is touching your entire back. there isn’t an inch of you that isn’t touching him. you can feel his breath on the back of your head, and your own coming to a still stand in your throat.
slowly, he moves his head until it’s right there, to your right. he lets his head dip a little lower, so his nose is grazing the skin of your shoulder and ever so lightly, takes a deep breath of your smell.
he inhales deeply, at the end of it a little groan rumbling in his chest. he then lets his instincts take over-slowly, he moves his head so his nose travels across your shoulder, up your neck (where for a few milliseconds you feel his lips brush across your skin too, making you gasp quietly), across your jawline, until his lips are right by your ear.
in what must be the deepest voice you have ever heard from a man, he whispers, “tell me to stop…”, he pauses, letting go of his self control for a moment and letting his lips leave a little kiss on the edge of your jawline, before he continues “…and i will stop”.
gone were all the thoughts from your head, which is probably why you find your head falling back on his shoulder, eyes closing on their own, feeling the lack of the air in your lungs getting to your head, and breathlessly, you say “don’t stop, please”.
which seemed to be enough for him, because in the next second he’s directing your face to his own with two fingers and kissing you like he’s dying, and you are the only antidote that could save him.
his tongue massages your own in such a meticulous manner, that it made a little moan escape you. quickly, you break the kiss for the second it takes you to turn around in his hold, not even realising that he now had both of his arms wrapped around your stomach, and kissing him with what must look like desperation to anybody else.
he sucks on your top lip for a bit, before he deepens your kiss, his hand flying up to hold your jaw in place, slowly turning your head a bit to the side so he can get even deeper.
you seem to be out of your mind, because your hand-all on its own- grabs ahold of his other hand that is resting on your back, and places it on the back of your head.
seeing what you probably must’ve wanted, seungcheol takes a second to push his hand into your hair. and then he pulls on it ever so lightly.
and then you moan loudly in his mouth.
and that seems to do it for him, because he groans deeply at your moan, before he breaks a kiss harshly to grab ahold of your thighs and pick you up as if you weighed nothing.
the action got you gasping, your legs automatically wrapping themselves around his hips. but before you had the time to tell him to put you down and that “you were too heavy”, he’s right back, kissing you like he was starving for it-starving for you.
with ease, he turns around and starts walking down the hall. but since he’s only a man, he gets a bit carried away, having to stop and push you against the wall, his kisses now fast and almost animalistic, travelling from your mouth, across your cheek and down your throat. at one harsher kiss to your skin on the neck, you let out a louder moan, which only fuelled his desire, his kisses getting faster, harsher, his tongue touching your skin with his open mouth kisses, the hold he had on your thighs getting tighter.
you couldn’t remember the last time you felt this wet, this satisfied, this hungry for more from a kiss alone. out of the window went all of your consciousness, your thoughts, the only thing that you knew at that moment were seungcheol and that you wanted him. more than you have ever wanted anything else.
gasping while he continues to attack your neck and collarbones, you moan a simple “more”.
and who was seungcheol to deprive his lady of what she wanted?
taking ahold of his actions, he gets a better grasp on your thighs, before he pushes you two away from the wall. in five big steps, he’s in front of his bedroom door, pushing them opened harshly with his foot, carrying you inside, before letting go of one of your legs to slam the door shut, all while still kissing you.
the thoughts that were playing in your mind like a movie got you slapping your face with both hands, covering your whole face with them.
not being able to sit still anymore, you gut up and out of the bed, quickly picking up a random shirt from the chair that was by the door, and out of the room.
you find yourself a bit lost, before you see the door to your left, on which stoop a sign that said “bathroom”. quickly, you run into the room and close the door behind yourself.
breathing out a sigh of relief, you look around to see just how ridiculously expensive the bathroom must look like.
and without any disappointment, the bathroom looks like it came straight out of somebody’s pinterest board- a big white bathtub to the left, to the right what must be the biggest shower you have ever seen, a toilet to the left in front of you, and a mirror so big there wouldn’t be a wall big enough to hang it in your own apartment. the tiles of the whole bathroom were this nice shade of beige, creating a harmony with the white furniture of the room.
noticing how badly you need to relieve yourself, you do yourself before getting up to wash your hands. as you finish, you look up to see just how bad your makeup must look.
and you gasp. because your whole neck is covered in hickeys, bigger part of them looking like they are connecting, making it look like one giant purple hickey that’s wrapped around your whole neck.
you just stand there for a second, in a loss for words as to how bad it looks. if you saw this sight on anybody else, you would think that they got mauled by a bear or some wild animal of sorts.
looking at the hickeys on your body got you blushing, and even more so as you remember how they came to be.
ever so gently, seungcheol puts you down on his big and fluffy bed. putting you down seemed to be the only thing he was going to do gently, because the very next second he’s basically pouncing on you, the kiss continuing after a brief moment it took him to lay you down. you feel his tongue battle with your own, before he pulls on your bottom lip with his own lips, lightly biting it to tease you just a little bit.
his hands go from resting next to your head to caressing your body, until they reach the hem of your dress. he breaks the kiss apart, starting to ask “can i-“.
but before he can finish the sentence, you are whining in his face, glossy eyes looking up at him “take it off, please, take it off take it off, please please please-“.
your begging seems to make him lose his mind just a bit more. quickly and with no care, as if he’s just as desperate to have this tight dress off of your body, he switches his hold to the straps of your dresss, harshly pulling it down your arms and chest, over your waist and over your hips, before giving it one final pull over your legs and tossing it over his shoulder.
for a moment, he sits on his heels and just observes you. he feels his chest tightening due to lack of oxygen, his heart beating so fast he thinks it could stop any moment.
your curves would get him kneeling in front of you if he wasn’t already doing so. and the little two piece lingerie- god, help him, for he is about to sin, big time.
he wanted to look at this sight for a bit longer, to have it embedded in his mind forever, but it seems that his girl is a bit impatient, because he feels your hand harshly pulling on his shirt and feels himself falling down on you before the sound of your whining even has the time to hit the shell of his ear.
you kiss him desperately, your hands everywhere- in his hair, on the nape of his neck, across his shoulders and scratching on his back.
all while whining and moaning in his mouth.
god help cheol if he wasn’t about to cum just from the pretty sounds you were making for him.
seeing as you weren’t willing to let him go, or stop kissing him for that matter, seungcheol opts to multitask and take his shirt off while still kissing you. the moment its off, your hands seem to have a mind of their own, travelling all over his back and shoulders before straying to his front, your firm touch traveling from his stomach to his chest.
deciding that he can’t wait anymore, he pulls on your underwear harshly, making them fly over his shoulder too, before he lets his lips leave open-mouth kisses over your neck, collarbones, chest, stopping for a bit to give you nipples a little nibble over your lacy bra, over your tummy, on your hip.
before he knows it, he finds himself laying between your legs, looking up at you through his thick eyelashes, his gaze hot enough to burn your skin.
he gently takes your thighs in his hands, before putting them on his shoulders. before he can even utter the words, you nod your head vigorously and enthusiastically, feeling your legs shake slightly at anticipation.
and then his mouth is on you. and you gasp.
he licks one long stripe from your hole to your clit, which he proceeds to suck onto lightly, making your hips buckle. his tongue then starts to lap at it, leaving little kitten licks on your clit.
your hand instinctively fly to his beautiful luscious hair, pulling on it, trying to getting him even closer if possible.
understanding what you want, seungcheol then lowers his mouth a bit, probing and pushing at your hole, twisting his tongue when entering you in ways you couldn’t think were humanly possible, sucking on your entrance every time before his tongue enters you again.
it’s embarrassing to admit, but you can confidently say that you have never been this close to the finish this fast.
which is why you try to pull him away by your hold on his hair. but he ignores your tugging, instead lets one of his hands that’s been holding your thigh travel up and take hold of one of your hands, before intertwining your hands and letting them rest on your hip.
such a simple action but it got your heart feeling so warm, you can for sure say that nobody ever made you feel this way by a simple action such as this one.
feeling your finish approaching quickly, you try to warn him, but he just looks at you with what looked like to be completely black eyes sternly, almost as if he was saying “don’t you dare stop me”.
and who were you to do as much?
suddenly, like a big wave, you feel the euphoria hit you, you back leaving the mattress, the hold you had on his hand and his hair tightening to the point you were sure must’ve hurt him, your thighs locking, squishing his face between them, all while moaning so loudly you were sure his neighbours were about to hate you.
seungcheol just continues to lap at your hole, drinking up every little drop of your cum as if it were nectar, closing his eyes in enjoyment, groaning as he makes sure to drink up everything you were giving him.
after a minute, you start feeling a bit overstimulated, whining in protest, which was seungcheol’s cue to stop. slowly detangling himself from your legs, he slowly climbs back up before he’s kissing you, your own taste greeting you on his tongue.
seungcheol breaks the kiss apart for a moment, his eyes as dark as night as he looks you directly in the eyes, before he asks you.
“are you ready to give me more, pretty girl?”
you again cover your blushing face with your hands, peeking just a bit between your fingers to look at yourself in the mirror.
seungcheol is so perfect, in every way possible, that you weren’t sure that he was real. maybe he was just a speck of your imagination, something you made up in your mind to make yourself feel better about your love life.
your hands slowly slide down your face as the reality of the situation starts to hit you, a sour look overtaking your expression.
seungcheol was so perfect. too perfect for you to have him.
knowing that talking to him again will just add salt to the injury, that it will make you realise just how out of your league he is, you decide that sneaking off would be for the best, for the both of you. after all, this was probably just a one time thing for him.
you bend down to pick up the shirt that you took from his room to put on until you find your dress, when suddenly, you feel a sharp cramp in your thighs, making you gasp.
you knew that you two went quite hard at it last night, but you didn’t think it would make walking hard for you the next day.
shyly, you peek at your thighs to see just how irritated the skin must look like, the recollection of the encounter yet again clouding your mind.
as you kiss, you feel one of his hands reach to the side before you hear him fumble with something, breaking the kiss so you both look at him struggling to find the condom in his nightstand.
after a few seconds he finally pulls out a pack, taking one out of the bunch before he pulls back entirely, sitting on his heels.
carefully he unbuttons his pants, pulling them and his underwear just enough for his cock go be freed. and oh god, if that wasn’t the biggest one you have ever had, he was so big and thick, it made goosebumps appear on your skin in anticipation. he rips the packaging with his teeth, and rolls it on himself, all while he still keeps the eye contact going.
seungcheol then lowers himself back onto you, before he teases your folds with his fingers.
in a raspy voice he says “your pussy got me so drunk that i forgot that i need to prep you before i fuck you”, and then he pushes one of his thick fingers in your hole, your gasp so loud in your own ears that normally it would make you feel embarrassed. he then continues “wouldn’t want to hurt my pretty girl when I’m supposed to be making you feel good, hm?”, he finishes and pushes another finger on the next time he pushes back inside of you.
if you had any mental strength left, you would’ve answered him, but there was literally nothing going on in your head other than how good his fingers felt, massaging your walls, scissoring you,his tumb gently massaging your clit in slow circles, pushing and pulling his fingers in a slow but steady pace, ever so often the til of his fingers grazing your g spot, making you moan in his face.
he fingers you as if he had tons of experience with your body, like he already knew how you liked it. and he does it all while looking at your face, his forehead slowly coming down to rest on your own.
after what you felt must’ve been hours when in reality it was just a few minutes, he seemed to be satisfied, pulling his fingers out completely.
and then he pushed the very same fingers inside of his mouth, eyebrows furrowing and eyes closing at your taste, humming in satisfaction as he licks his fingers clean.
you feel yourself clench as you watch him suck on his fingers. he looked like a god as he did it- his hair now messy and fluffy thanks to you, his expression looks like he’s having the best meal of his life, his tan skin glistening with sweat, his naked chest raising as he breathes in and out.
he looked so divine, it made you go just a little bit insane. just a bit.
he opens his dark eyes again, his face turning somewhat serious. seungcheol then slowly lowers himself down again, caging your head with his forearms that come to rest next to your head, making your entire focus shift to his eyes.
without much thought, you wrap your arms around his back, your legs locking themselves around his hips.
in the corner of your eye you see him his hand disappearing down, before you feel his cock teasing your folds, his head catching on your clit when he goes to pull it down back your folds. you gasp at this action, you eyes wanting to close themselves all on their own but your mind makes them stay open as you don’t want to miss a single thing.
his free hand comes to your face, pushing your hair back a little bit, before his tumb comes to wipe your bottom lip, your lips falling open on their own.
seungcheol caresses your cheek with the same tumb, and with gentle eyes and voice asks “ready?”.
to which you only nod your head slightly.
he smiles slightly before he lightly pinches your cheek “use your words, baby. i need to know you are 100% sure about this.”
a whispered ‘yes’ falls out of your mouth, your eyes in a trance with his own, the only things you are able to focus on are those chocolate orbs of his.
and then he’s pushing inside of you.
you both gasp at the burn, having difficulties fitting him inside of your tight hole.
his gasp turns into a rough growl, deeply saying “fuck, so tight, baby, you need to relax for me, otherwise i could hurt you”.
you try to listen to him, taking a deep breath in and out. kind of at the same time you both look down between yourselves.
only to see that he has only pushed his tip inside of you.
dear lord, may he help you survive this night.
as a minute passes by, you feel yourself slowly relax, seungcheol pushes himself a little bit more every few seconds until he’s completely bottoms out, his hips now touching yours.
he gives you a minute to relax, his hand gently rubbing your cheek, eyes lovingly looking at you.
as you give him a slight nod with your head, he slowly pulls out, before pushing back. he sets a slow pace for the start, carefully looking at your face for signs of discomfort, making your heart clench at his little signs of affection.
the pace continues for a few minutes, the thickness of his cock and how it massages your insides making you moan and him groan.
feeling like its not enough, you whine a little ‘more’ to him.
which was either the biggest mistake or the best decision of your life.
he quickens the movement of his hips slightly, the slapping of skin against skin now being added to the harmony that your moans and his groans were making.
his breath starts coming out heavier, the air that leaves his mouth lightly hitting your face as he’s fucking you.
you whine every time he pulls his hips back and moan every time he pushes them back, his cock repeatedly hitting your sweet spot.
but it seems like you are so desperate for more, so insatiable, that you pull him closer to you with your hold around his shoulders, his face falling in the curve where your neck meets your shoulders, your own doing the very same, whining “more, please, give me more, i want more, please please please-“ directly in his ear, your eyes closing in pleasure.
seungcheol stops for second, making you whine in disappointment, takes ahold of your thighs to hitch your legs higher on his hips.
and then he doubles the speed of his hips.
he sets an insane pace, his hips slapping against the back of your thighs, groans and deep moans falling out of his mouth. his dick feels so big, his head repeatedly hitting your spot, making your moans border on screams.
you can’t remember the last time you got fucked this good, and you were sure this will stay in your memory forever.
seungcheol continues with his merciless pace, your muscles clenching around him which in return makes him make more of those beautiful noises.
“you like that, baby? fuck, the noises you make- you are driving me insane. your pussy feels so tight- fuck, i can barely fit. and it’s so wet i- jesus. is this all for me? hm? so wet, just for me baby? fuck, i could fuck you for the rest of my life, never want to stop, want my dick inside of you all the time. you’d like that, wouldn’t you pretty girl? fuck- such a good girl-“
he continues to praise you and talk about you good you feel, how you are being such a good girl for him, and normally you would answer.
(un)fortunately, you have zero thoughts going on in your mind, only able to moan in his ear while he kisses and bites your shoulder, neck and collarbones, the sting barely noticeable in comparison to the slapping of the skin you feel on the back of your thighs. with extra effort, you successfully say through a moan “more, please, gimme more”.
seungcheol growls at this, before he pulls out completely out of you. he then harshly pulls you by your thighs and turns you over, pulling your hips up before you even have the time to let out a gasp. your chest that are now lacking all the air are touching the mattress while your ass is in the air, fully exposed to seungcheol’s eyes.
without any warning he slaps your right ass cheek, something between a scream and a moan flying out of your mouth. not giving you any time to even process the action, he’s already pushing his cock back inside of you, the new angle making the stretch feel even more delicious.
“fuck, my girl is so desperate huh? so desperate for this cock, moaning so prettily for me. fuck, you are going to be the death of me, you and this pussy”.
he basically lays himself on top of you, covering your whole body with his own, his firm chest pressed in your back, before he resumes his quick pace.
seungcheol pounds into you, so much so that you feel your pussy burn from the force of his hips that are slapping against it.
he continues to praise you but unfortunately you don’t hear anything anymore, only things that you can focus on is the delicious stretch of his dick and how it’s repeatedly hitting your g spot.
feeling your finish approaching quicker than expected, you moan out “im coming im coming im comi-“.
seeing that he is in the same boat, seungcheol groans in your ear, his hand quickly finding your own and intertwining your hands. squeezing your hands tightly, he growls in your ear “cum. cum for me pretty girl, fuck- make a mess on this dick”.
he uses his free hand to find your clit and rub it quickly.
and then you are screaming in pleasure. you feel your walls squeezing him harder than ever, milking him dry, which triggers his own release, a deep moan rumbling in his chest against your own back.
he fucks your slowly through both of your orgasms, your mind so cloudy that you don’t even feel the bite on your shoulder that he had to do in order to quiet down his own moans.
after a minute you feel your thighs shake slightly from overstimulation, lightly tapping him on his arm to stop, and he does. he stays inside as he uses his hand to slightly rub the side of your thigh in comfort.
as you try to regain your breath, you feel seungcheol kiss your cheek lightly like a feather, before he asks.
“ready to give me one more, baby?”
your cheeks burn as your thoughts take over your mind again. quickly shaking them off, you pull on the shirt over your head before leaving the bathroom.
as quietly as possible, you enter seungcheol’s room to find him still sleeping on his stomach, his back turned to you. sighing in relief, you make a quick search for your things.
as you pull on your dress from last night, you grimace at the fact that you will have to wear the same pair of panties from last night.
as you make sure that you have all of your things, you slowly head for the doors.
until a voice behind you stops you.
“leaving already?”.
you stop in your tracks before slowly turning around to see seungcheol looking at you through puffy eyes.
“yknow, if you wanted to leave in the morning, you could’ve just told me that last night, i would’ve prepared a car to drive you back, but i was under the impression that you were going to stay and have a breakfast with me”, he finishes as he lightly rubs his face.
you quickly look down, embarrassment and guilt washing over your face. you did want to stay, you wanted to stay for as long as he would let you, but you weren’t sure if that would be okay for him, or if you even deserved it.
seeing the expression on your face, seungcheol then asks, barely above the whisper, pleading looking at you.
“stay? please?”.
you quickly look up to see his gentle eyes, before you answer unsurely.
“would that really be okay with you? it’s just- i wasn’t sure if you wanted this to be a one time thing only or-or maybe- well, something more, so uh, i thought it be better to just leave a-and i-“
as you ramble, seungcheol feels his lips betray him as a small smile slowly gets bigger and bigger the longer you talk. deciding to make this easier for the both of you, he interrupts you.
“baby?”
you look at him with red cheeks, all and every thought you had evaporating from your mind.
seeing that he got your attention, he continues.
“take that dress off and get back in here, i want cuddles…and maybe something more.”
and who were you to deny him anything?
2K notes · View notes
nicoliine · 8 months
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About the times when Alastor touched you and when he expected you to do it back.
☆彡 How in the world does the radio demon, who doesn't really like physical contact, end up looking for any excuse to have his hands on you?
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 ☆ Reader is g/n; no pronouns or y/n are used.
☆ Warnings: not really. Does a mental breakdown count as a warning? Alastor is a warning itself yk.
☆ English isn't my first language, so if there's any mistake I sorry-
 
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You noticed that Alastor didn't like people's proximity when you first arrived at the hotel and he didn't even try to shake your hand. There, with your hand on the air, you stand waiting for his shake as you observe his ramblings about a whole different subject—not that you mind about all the weird souls that can be met in hell—watching him around the other hotel staff, you confirm it.
 
After a couple of days in the hotel and witnessing his power display, you made a mental note to not mess with him. That being said, you didn't really want to touch him.
You were a very touchy person, content to hug Pentious when you first saw him around in the morning or cuddle on the couch with Angel before he started to make a lewd comment about his job and you just ended up leaving him alone. Nifty seemed to enjoy being all over you, sitting on your shoulders while you were reading or just playing with your hair.
 
Another one who was happy about your touchy personality was Charlie, but she is just happy about everything.
 ☆◦•◦☆
It started a month from your arrival.
Alastor, being a self-proclaimed gentleman, didn't seem to be aware of your not touching Alastor rule, he started holding the door open for you then creating a shadow to lift up that heavy box that you needed to move, and you ended up—it was hard for you—just trying to move up your body away so you didn't end up too close to him, but he seemed to love your personal space so much.
 
One time, you were in the hallway, not really aware of your surroundings, until you felt an arm around your shoulders. When you heard his static voice, you froze on your steps, slowly turning your head to see him there, standing with that so-known smile of his. When he started to walk, still holding you, talking about that great idea for the hotel, you just couldn't pay so much attention. Your mind is running on thoughts about his proximity.
This wasn't the only time he ended up having you close to him; being honest, it seems to have a personal liking to your presence. You doubt he was like that before your arrival (as you already spoke with Charlie about it), but he could be found anywhere you were. If you ended up helping fix the balcony fence, he was there behind you—you're glad he's at least silent—or when you are in the bar just scrolling through your phone and he is watching you from the other side of the room, not wanting to be near your technology artifacts, is he just trying to drive you mad? Even though that look of his seems to be asking for something you don't know, you won't ask what it is. Just wait to see how it goes.
 
His touch soon became more frequent. You often end up with your own theory that it's something involuntary, like something he doesn't even notice by the way it feels, like deep in the end he just wants to be touched but don't know how to ask for it. But with that demon, nothing is sure; everything he does used to be planned. That's why you found yourself confused and don't want to test your luck.
 
When you are in the lobby in the middle of one of Charlie's activities and his arm ends up holding you by his side.
Or when he just kisses the back of your hand every time you first see him in the morning and every time he leaves, no exceptions, that confusing look of his is always there.
Just about that, your hands—he often takes your hands. While you are in the kitchen and waiting for the pasta on the stove, one of your hands is resting on the counter as you hold a recipe book, reading the next steps. He's by your side the whole time; one of his hands takes your free hand, making you pause your reading and look at him in surprise for the sudden action. He says nothing, and both of you are standing there in silence until you have to go back to cook. However, he doesn't seem to want to let you go yet because he will follow you as you move around the kitchen.
 
From them, it seems that everyone is aware of this weird Alastor thing.
Nobody talks about it though—you are surprised as they have stayed out of the subject, just making silent bets about the cause of this behavior of his—but you know it wouldn't take long for someone to talk about it.
 
 ☆◦•◦☆
The last time he put his hands on you, you were scared. So much has passed since the last time you felt this way. Anxious and terrified, everything around you was spinning; you had to run away from the hotel activities all day.
When Alastor found you in your room, you were a mess, all your stuff scattered around the room. You saw him from your seat in a corner on the other side of the room; the only candle in the nightstand seemed to be dead soon. He just stood there in front of you; you didn't even try to look up at him, just his shoes. You can tell so much about someone else by his shoes; his shoes seemed almost perfectly clean even after destroying his enemies. He's such a collected person that it scares you.
 
"Why, dear, would you look at me?" Alastor surely doesn't enjoy being ignored; you know that. You just couldn't find the strength to move when he spoke to you. It passed almost 5 minutes before you turned your head up, and he was so patient with you the whole time. "What is that troubling your mind, dear?"
 
You didn't respond right away; you're not sure how much time passed until you did it.
 
"It's just... everything." Your hands run around your face as you try not to have an attack right away in front of him. "I'm so scared, Alastor."
 
He just smiled; nothing was said; he didn't even try to touch your shoulder or hold you; he just smiled with that now so common smile of his, —you could swear it was the biggest smile you had seen on his face —one of his arms extended to you.
You have no idea why you did what you did; maybe he asked you directly, or you imagined it all, or his eyes showed what he wanted, or the candle in your room was one of Angel's drugs, or you just simply had a death wish. You don't know.
But you hugged him—just a hug—so hard that you could break his bones. When you took conscience about what you were doing, you tried to back down, not knowing how he could react to your contact.
But he didn't let you; his arm took you by the waist, and his staff was forgotten on the ground when he held your head against his shoulder.
 
You now understand why he always touched you. While you hands grabbed fists of his coat, he held you so tight, like it wasn't enough, and you just needed to be closer to him forever; he didn't want anything else.
So he did, he didn't let you go for a single moment that night; even when you were in bed, he held your hand the whole time. He just let you go the next morning when Vaggie insisted he needed to go do his job, even so he wouldn't forget to kiss your hand before he left. The ghost of his touch accompanied you all the time; it was like your body grew so used to his presence and his touch that you could feel it as a part of you.
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Touch Starved! Alastor folks!!! Alastor is such an interesting character to write! I want ro respect him so bad.
Likes and reblogs are appreciated 💞
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princessbellecerise · 20 days
Text
Baby Blues
Summary ✩ After six months of being married, you and Cregan are still struggling to conceive, leading to you becoming insecure and slightly jealous in your marriage
Warnings ✩ Angst, jealousy, mentions of infertility and pregnancy, self doubt, insecurity, happy ending though
Notes ✩ This is based off of a request and I hope I did it justice. I did put a little twist on it just to make it a little extra angsty but enjoy!
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Cregan pulled the covers back and grinned.
A little over a month had passed since your last moon blood, and now that a safe amount of time had gone by, he felt excitement fill him at the idea that you were finally with child.
The two of you had been trying ever since you got married six months ago, but it seemed that the Gods had not yet deemed you fit to be parents. It’s something that’s worried both you and Cregan, as it wasn’t like there was a lack of trying between the two of you, and the Maesters said that you both were healthy. Realistically, your belly should be swollen by now but it just hadn’t happened.
Now though, Cregan felt a sliver of hope rise in his chest. Beside him, you shifted and rolled over sleepily to see why your husband had taken the covers from you. You were cold, but once you saw what he was looking at you immediately warmed up.
“It still hasn’t come,” You realized, fighting a smile. Your heart beating a little faster as you saw the clean sheets.
“No. No it hasn’t,” Cregan, trying and failing to conceal his own grin, said. “It’s been next to two months now.”
“Which could mean nothing,” You chewed your lip, reminding him that sometimes a woman’s blood could be late. But Cregan chose to be optimistic.
“Or…”
You squealed as suddenly, your husband pulled you into his arms and peppered kisses all over your neck. Laughter filled your chambers as you tried to push him away, but Cregan held you firm, his hands gentle as they pressed against your belly. “Mayhaps my seed has finally taken.”
“Mhmm. Well, we’ll see about that,” You said cautiously, not wanting to get your hopes up until you knew for sure. More time would need to pass before you allowed yourself to truly believe, as the heartbreak of your moon blood simply being late would be devastating. You were already worried that something was wrong with your womb and the longer you went without getting pregnant, the more that worry grew.
Over the next few days, you held caution close to your chest as a way to shield yourself in case Cregan was wrong. In case this time was just false hope like all the others, but as the days went on and suddenly it became a month and two weeks without getting your moon blood, you caved.
You and Cregan couldn’t stop grinning the moment you finally revealed to the Maester what was happening. It was too early to be one hundred percent sure, but he assured you that it was a good sign and only time would tell. Despite this, Cregan insisted on celebrating the incident, claiming that there needed to be a feast held to honor the coming of a new heir. Your husband was so excited that you didn’t even have the heart to dissuade him, admittedly excited yourself.
As the Lady of the castle, you made the plans and collaborated with the Maester to send out invitations. And within two more weeks, all of the nearest houses in the North were gathered at Winterfell, happy and merry as they celebrated you and Cregan.
It was a lively feast, and definitely the most exciting event in the North for a while. Cregan had insisted on having the best ale present and the best food, as it was summer and their stores had extra to spare.
You had never seen your husband so alive; so filled with happiness and joy as he drank to his new heir. Of course, you were being moderate and only stuck to cider or water, but you didn’t mind. At least you’d be sober enough to remember this night, and the way that it filled you with such love to see everyone so happy.
To you, it felt like a huge weight had been lifted from your shoulder and the fear of disappointing Cregan and the North faded. You knew it was silly, as Cregan had reassured you many times that he’d still love you even if you couldn’t provide him with a child, but fulfilling your duty had been drilled into your head since you were born and now you could rest.
You were pregnant, hopefully, and your days of waking up and feeling like a failure were over. That night, you ate, you laughed, you toasted to your unborn babe and you held Cregan tight when later, he whispered to your non-existent baby bump.
“Helloooo thereeee. I’m…I’m your father,” He slurred while you laughed, unable to help yourself as you knew he was one hundred percent piss drunk.
“My love, I think we should be going to bed so you can sleep this off,” You told him, but Cregan waved you off and rested his head on your belly.
“Just…just a minute,” He told you, and he seemed to sober up a little as a small sigh left his lips. “I wanna…I wanna say a few words to our little wolf.”
He pressed a delicate kiss to the exposed skin and nuzzled your belly with his nose, pausing for a moment before continuing. “It took…it took a while for you to get here, didn’t it? Your mother and I…we were worried. I thought…I thought that maybe there was something wrong with me at first and that’s why you didn’t come, but I’m glad to know that me cock still works.”
“Cregan!” You were both amused and a little surprised to hear that it was him he blamed for such a wait, not you. You never realized that your husband felt responsible for not being able to conceive these past few months, and it both saddened your heart and made you feel less alone to know that he carried the same guilt on his shoulders.
“It was no one’s fault the babe took so long,” You reassured him gently, running a hand through his hair. Cregan sighed at your touch, leaning into your lap as he nodded.
“Aye. It just seems like our little wolf is stubborn is all,” He smiled.
He finished off his speech with a few more words of love to your belly, and the entire time you felt yourself smiling bigger and bigger. By the time Cregan had finished, finally stumbling into bed and grumbling about a headache, you were sure that your cheeks were going split from smiling so much. Words couldn’t describe how full your heart felt, how much you were overflowing from sheer happiness and joy. Everything you had ever dreamed of was coming true and it was all because of the little babe growing in your belly.
“Good night, my little moon,” You smiled as you placed a hand over it, almost as a way to protect them as you fell asleep. Sometime during the night, you felt Cregan’s large hand doing the same, and together your warm hands protected your little miracle.
The next morning, you woke up with the sun shining on your face. Yawning, you reached over to say good morning to Cregan, only to find the bed empty.
He must have gotten up early, you thought with a frown.
You thought about yesterday, about how carefree and happy your husband had been. He was so excited to know that he was getting another child, excited that little Rickon would have a younger sibling to protect. You were sad to think that he now had to focus on his duties again, but what could you do?
Duty never waits for anyone.
Trying to shake off your disappointment, you cradled your stomach and sat up in bed. After stretching and taking a small sip of water from the pitcher your maids had left you, you yawned again and threw the covers back.
Your eyes widened.
“Oh Gods. Oh no, no, no!”
You scrambled up in a panic as tiny dots of blood stained your sheets, your eyes wide and your stomach dropping to your feet. Horrified, you placed a shaking hand over your mouth as denial flooded your veins—but the proof was there plain as day.
“No. No, no, no! This can’t be happening,” You whimpered, falling to your knees as you touched the satin material.
How could this be possible? You hadn’t…you hadn’t bled for two months, and now all of a sudden your moon blood decided to show up? After everything…the feast, Cregan’s speech last night…
You shook your head as tears blurred your vision. Utter rage and devastation seemed to fill your heart as you sobbed, clutching your stomach as your whole body shook.
Both shame and embarrassment washed over you, knowing that the womb you cradled was empty. All those celebrations, all the toasts and the speeches that were given…it was for nothing.
You weren’t pregnant, and just like that you were back in the same position you were when you first arrived in Winterfell.
Scared. Heartbroken when your moon blood still came after the bedding. Terrified as the thought of being barren and unable to bare Cregan another child haunted you.
All of a sudden, those fears came running back to you and it made you want to throw up. It made you want to shout and scream, ask the Gods what they hated you so much as to allow this.
Why? Why have you all cursed me? Why won’t you let me bare my husband’s child? Am I not good enough? Am I just not meant to be a mother?
No, no. It couldn’t be true. Despite what the Gods thought, you refused to believe it. You didn’t want to believe it, not willing to accept that you had let Cregan down, again.
Gods, and he had been so excited to be a father again. You knew that he always wanted a big family, but sadly his first wife had passed away in childbirth. It had taken him two years to remarry, and now he was stuck with only one son and a second wife that was probably barren.
A cruel fate he had been dealt, really.
And now, as you stared at the droplets of blood staining the sheets, an ugly feeling crawled its way through your chest. Something that felt akin to jealousy, which you knew was ridiculous and borderline sinful.
It was an ugly, awful thing to envy a dead woman—and you swore to yourself that you never would. You knew how much Cregan loved you, and you were mature enough to know that one person could hold love in their heart for two people. Still though, you just couldn’t help yourself.
Arra might have died for it, but at least she gave him an heir. I cannot even offer him anything, You thought bitterly.
The realization just made you cry harder, wondering if when Cregan found out he’d lose his patience with you. You wondered if your husband would curse the Gods as you did; ask them why they’d taken his perfectly good wife away from him and cursed him with a barren one.
You knew that he wouldn’t, as deep down you knew your husband was not that kind of man. Grief however had skewed your mind, and it made you not think straight as you scrambled up.
Wiping your tears, you leaned over the bed and tore the sheets off with one pull. In a frenzy, and motivated by the desire to not let Cregan see them, you stuffed them deep within your closet and sobbed.
You don’t remember when you dressed yourself, or when you even left the room, really.
All you knew was that everything felt like a blur, the whole world passing you by as you aimlessly wandered through Winterfell.
You don’t remember what you were even looking for or why, but eventually you found yourself somewhere that surprised even you. In the hallway of an abandoned corridor, staring at the portrait of Cregan’s late wife.
You weren’t sure what possessed you to go there, or to even stay once you realized what it was. But something kept you rooted to your spot, and you found yourself entranced as you stared at the artwork.
Arra was beautiful, that was for sure. She had long dark hair, common amongst the Northerners, and big blue eyes that seemed to stare at you accusingly.
From what you’d heard from Cregan, she was his childhood sweetheart. Kind and generous, your husband had once reassured you that she’d love even you, when you were once worried that her ghost would somehow blame you for stealing her husband and child.
“Arra was a gentle soul,” Cregan explained, “And she’d love you for the simple fact that you make me happy, and that you are going to be a wonderful mother to her son and his siblings.”
Now, you wondered if that would still hold true. You had failed at the last part, and surely once Cregan found out, the happiness he once found with you would fade.
You wondered if then Arra would still be so accepting of you; a woman who had stolen her husband and her child and couldn’t even do anything to keep him happy.
It haunted you to think so. Sent a burning feeling through your chest. A feeling of failure. A feeling of jealousy, that this woman had given your husband everything you’d ever wanted to give him and more. A feeling of sadness when you realized that she had died for it, and now her place had been taken by someone as useless as you.
A few hours later, that’s where Cregan found you. Staring at the portrait of Arra Norrey, crying your eyes out over a dead woman, his late wife, and the babe that never even existed in your womb.
“Y/N?” Cregan approached you cautiously, alarm and panic in his eyes as he saw you sunken on the floor. You hadn’t know it yet, too caught up in your grief, but you’d been missing pretty much the entire day and no one had been able to find you since this morning.
The sun had long set, and just when Cregan felt like he was about to lose his mind, he remembered one last place he hadn’t checked. A place he used to visit all the time when he was a child, hiding and sneaking away with his now late wife. But he hadn’t had the heart to visit since she died, not until the possibility of you being in danger arose.
It was here that he found you, and immediately your husband rushed over to you, taking you into your arms and inspecting you for any signs of danger as you cried.
“What has happened? Are you hurt?”
“No.”
Somehow, you managed to force the word out, shaking your head as you tried to quiet yourself. You hadn’t meant for him to find you like this, honestly you hadn’t. You’d meant to go find him hours ago and tell him the news, but you were stuck to this spot and you couldn’t move. The entire day you’d been paralyzed with grief and it was obvious you weren’t okay even though you tried to convince him you were.
“I’m fine, Cregan. Really,” You told him, but of course he didn’t believe you.
He reached a hand out to touch your face, wiping your tears as he set his torch down. The new angle allowed you to see his face better, to see the worry and the panic and the grief.
You curled into yourself even more knowing that you had probably caused it, and knowing that you were about to add to it even more.
“Y/N, what happened?” Cregan demanded. He was perplexed. “Why have you been down here the entire day? It’s nearly midnight. We’ve been searching for you for hours. Everyone was worried, I was going out of my mind thinking that something awful had happened to you! And the babe—”
Cregan suddenly paused as you began to cry harder, his eyes wide as you cradled your empty womb. Something in his head seemed to click, an awful thought he’d never even considered before rendering him weak.
“Gods. Has something happened to the babe? Is that why you disappeared?” Cregan panicked, and you couldn’t stop the plethora of tears that slid down your cheeks.
“I’m sorry.” The dam broke, and you launched yourself into Cregan’s arms as his face turned to horror. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Cregan, I…there is no babe,” You explained to him, and you watched as his expression hardened.
“My love, what are you talking about? What has happened to our child?” He demanded to know. You held your head shamefully.
“The sheets, Cregan,” You told him softly.
He paused. “What?”
“I bled.” The confession left a bitter taste in your mouth, Cregan reeling back in shock. “My moon blood…it came this morning while you were out. I took the sheets…so you wouldn’t know and I…I wanted to tell you, I swear. But I just…I didn’t know how and I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me,” You whimpered. “I’m sorry.”
You looked away, afraid to see his face. Afraid to see the disappointment and the anger that was sure to come. Afraid to see the same accusing stare that Arra wore.
You averted your eyes, because you didn’t think you could bare watching the moment your husband realized that you were a failure. That it was you all along and not him that couldn’t conceive a child. It was your womb, your body that was preventing his happiness.
You didn’t think you could watch the moment all of it faded away.
“Y/N…”
You flinched as Cregan’s hand gently grabbed your face, making you look at him no matter how hard you tried not to. His rough, calloused fingers stroked your cheek, and he looked awfully gentle for a man that should’ve been angry beyond belief.
“My love, look at me. Look at me, please.”
You blinked, and all of sudden you were gazing into his eyes, one blue and one brown. Both of them looked soft and warm, Cregan sighing as he shook his head.
“You will never be a disappointment,” He said firmly. “Not to me. And I don’t want you to ever think such a thing. You are a good wife—”
“Who has failed you time and time again, Cregan,” You sniffled, “It has been six months, and I have yet to fall pregnant. You already have a son, so we both know it is me. I…I’m the one that keeps disappointing us. And I don’t know what to do anymore. I just…I just want to give you a child already. I want to be just as good as Arra was.”
Cregan had been stabbed before, cut from navel to collar and yet nothing in the world was as painful as watching you break down in his arms, desperate for the child you did not have.
It made him feel helpless to see you cry, and he hated that feeling. Hated that there was nothing he could do except for hold you, and offer you sweet words in hopes that it would soothe the ache.
“And you will. One day, you shall bare me another child, but if the Gods have decided that it won’t be today then so be it. We’ll try again and again until the time is right, and if that time never comes then I’ll still be with you every step of the way,” Cregan whispered.
He rested his forehead against yours and stared into your watery eyes. In the dying light of the torch, he could see the way they danced with a thousand emotions, each one more devastating to see than the last.
“You will be a mother one day my love, but please, do not compare yourself to her,” He continued. “Arra bore me a son, yes, but she gave her life for it. I would rather give Winterfell to my uncle Bennard than to see you perish for a child as well. I cannot…I cannot bare losing you too. Do you understand?”
You could hear the pain in Cregan’s voice, the unspoken truth that he’d rather you never be a mother than to have you leave him as well. It made your heart ache at the thought of never having your own child to share, flesh and blood and bones made from your love.
It would haunt you to the end of your days, but dying and leaving your husband alone in this world would destroy you even more.
You nodded. “I understand,” You told Cregan softly.
The warm fire light died down as you held one another in that corridor.
Nevermind that half the castle was still looking for you; in that moment, you only wanted your husband, his presence the only thing that could soothe the aches.
As Cregan’s strong arms and soft words comforted you, your eyes turned to look at the portrait of Arra. You wondered, if in her final moments she felt the same comforts as you did—content knowing that no matter what happened, she’d have a husband who would be there for her until the very end.
You hoped that she had.
In the morning, Cregan declined seeing off his most loyal bannermen, keeping his promise of being by your side whilst you visited the Maester.
You were shaking, undeniably terrified for what he was going to say, but you kept your head high and held onto Cregan’s hand the entire time he examined you.
You told him of your bleeding last morning, and how it had seemingly stopped today. You confessed that you hadn’t been feeling the usual symptoms of morning sickness or fatigue, but your breasts were sore and your appetite seemed to have increased.
Your body was an endless maze of confusion and it put you through emotions you weren’t even capable of understanding. You didn’t see how the Maester could either, really, but you supposed that he was used to these kinds of things more than you were.
After you had answered all of his questions, you braced yourself, squeezing Cregan’s hand as you prepared for the Maester to tell you what he thought.
And to your utter surprise, he merely smiled.
“Bleeding from the womb for a day or two is rare after conception, but possible. The fact that it’s gone away is a good sign, My Lady,” He reassured you.
You felt Cregan gripping your hand tighter as a flurry of emotions filled your body. First, you were shocked. Then you were relieved. And slowly, the grief that had been eating away at your heart faded, and you felt the tiniest bit of something else bleed through.
Hope.
“You mean…?”
You didn’t want to say it out loud, for fear of maybe being wrong, but the Maester seemed to catch on and nodded his head.
“Yes. Gods willing, there should be a new child of Winterfell in about seven months,” He confirmed. And then he added, “Congratulations, My Lady. My Lord.”
He bowed to you and Cregan before leaving the room, also sensing that the two of you might like some privacy.
And he was right.
As soon as the door shut, Cregan pulled you into his arms and let out a shaky breath. You didn’t even have to see his face to know that your husband was smiling, and when you hugged him against you—hard—you could feel warm tears wetting your neck.
“D’you hear that? We’re having a baby,” You laughed in disbelief while Cregan chuckled, sniffling as he kissed alongside your jaw.
“I never doubted that we would,” He said honestly, and all you could do was hold him tighter, your own tears slipping down your cheeks.
“No. No you didn’t.”
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shxuga · 28 days
Text
Not said | Sylus
I'm in love with this man, and I wanted to introduce myself by writing something about him in the best way… fluffy and self-indulgent! I hope you enjoy the read, English is not my first language ;; Likes and respoted are aprecciates!
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It was crazy...
Yes, crazy. Because... How did you go from repudiating and fearing the infamous leader of Onychinus... to... to this?
His soft hair shook as he rocked his face to the left, settling his sleeping form better into your bed. And, clearly, as the mature woman you are and not at all affected by his celestial beauty, you did not annihilate the voracious impulse to shake your legs and slide your fingers through his pretty grayish strands.
You sighed, feeling out of place in your own home. In your own bed! With the curtains closed, somehow trying to wipe most of brightness of Linkon's sun, that your... Ally? Buddy? Lover...?
Gosh, you weren't even sure about that...
Yes, definitely, crazy.
You couldn't even try to figure out Sylus. No matter how hard you tried to collect each piece of his complex puzzle... Most of the time you felt at a dead end.
You blame his pretty voice, his sharp but gentle features, the damn way he pronounced your name, and how he acted when it came to you. God, his damn treatment of you...! That started being so cold, almost spiteful, as if with his words and behavior he will "subtly" (because the bastard wasn't subtle at all!) demand that you remember something he didn't even bother to explain.
The memories in your mind were confusing, blurry and melancholic.
It was strange...
You did not remember exactly that mysterious past, and your "first" meeting was undoubtedly bitter... And now, much to your regret, is the moment where you most feel that your relationship with him wanders on a different astral plane! Completely unrelated!
Because... What the hell were you two?!
There was something implicit there, something mutual that, for better or worse, neither of you had dared to utter. Plus, he completely contradicted himself at times like these. Where the words become extinct, the walls collapse and only that soft perfume of vulnerability remains that surrounds both.
When the cold, calculating and demanding leader became a mirage, leaving only a man... just Sylus.
When he laughed at your antics, and his pretty eyes crinkled in tenderness. Or when he poured honey from his lips, calling you affectionate nicknames that made the butterflies in your stomach flutter. The stolen pettings, where his fingers lingered longer than they should along your hair, those times when his knuckles subtly traced your shoulders and the sides of your arms, or those moments where he let his fingers protectively around your waist.
Moments like these... Where without warning he arrived at your apartment, and took over your bed. If you had a nickel for every time his actions nearly gave you a heart attack, chances are your wealth would begin to rival his.
"Can't you sleep?" His hoarse, sleepy voice startles you, tearing you out of the limbo of your thoughts.
"How could I? It's past twelve." You complain, to which he hums, slowly opening his eyelids.
And there it is again.
Those damn eyes... Those eyes that looked at you as if you were the most important thing to him, with absolute adoration. Full of that affection that made your skin tingle and your knees weak. God, how come this man who initially acted like a demon... Did it end like this?
Overwhelmed, you decided to look away.
His large hand cupped your chin with a firm softness, encouraging you to return your gaze to him.
"Yeah? Is that why you haven't taken your eyes off me?"
Damn.
At this point, it should no longer surprise you that he'll notice those things... But damn! That didn't make it any less embarrassing.
He must have noticed your embarrassment, because his sly smile widened.
"You were looking at me with such intensity that I thought you were going to pierce my face, kitten."
"I-I don't...!" Excuses die out in your tongue, there is no use arguing. You push his hand away and sigh. "Just... I was just thinking."
That gets his attention. He rests his face on his bent arms, and you try hard to pretend that it is something as banal to other mortals as settling into bed, they make it look so perfect, so ethereal, like a muse out of a painting.
It was driving you crazy.
"Yeah? And what were you thinking, pretty?"
Once again, you have to do your best to put on your best poker face to disguise the effect that their disgustingly (wonderful, perfect, amazing) cloying nicknames have on you.
"Nothing in particular..." Your lie is evident, especially by how you avoid his gaze and nervously play with the bedsheets.
He hums, of course he doesn't believe you, in fact, you're sure he already gets the idea... But, as always, he gives you your space, followed with silent reverence the path you chose, and sticks to you with each of your decisions.
Instead, he pulls your arm and wraps it around you lazily, settling your face into his chest, barely hidden under a thin tank top. You can feel his nose on your hair, gently inhaling. Shame pulses through your bloodstream. 
"Sy-Sylus...?!"
"Just pretend I'm one of your plushies and try to get some sleep." Sylus pronounces, and you perceive how drowsiness quickly takes over him. There's nothing you can do, not when those strong arms have you happily captive in their embrace. You can only huff and resign. You listen carefully to the pulse of his heart, as erratic as ever, even when he is in this calm state.
The haze of your memories returns to you for an instant. The smell of sulfur and blood, your fingers on a sword and his voice encouraging you not to stop pressing the dagger... Or else, there would be no turning back.
Absently, your fingers outline where the scar should be, unaware of the effect your touch has on it. He shivers, one of his eyes opens and you feel how his gaze shines with intensity, while he holds your wrist firmly with his fingers.
"Kitten..." He warns, and you lower your hands quickly. He laughs, that rich tone, snuggling back into you.
Once again, a sigh leaves your lips. You imitate him, burying your face in his chest, delighting in the persistent rumble of his heart and the manly scent of his cologne.
Yes, there was a lot he hadn't said... But his actions were very clear. And that was enough, at least for now.
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kitten4sannie · 3 months
Text
dolce and gabbana
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pairing: san x guest! reader (fem)
genre: pure smut with a tiddlywink of plot
summary: san can’t seem to get you off his mind after sitting next to you during the latest D&G showcase, so he has no choice but to get you on his dick instead.
w.c: 3.3k
warnings: some alcohol use, subby until he’s not! san, dommy mommy who folds instantly when san asserts himself! reader, both reader and san mutually go after one another despite knowing one of them is MARRIED (hoes will be hoes what can i say <3), reader’s husband is a dick ofc, misogyny (from said husband), cheating, seduction, exhibitionism, mommy/daddy kink….. (i’m weak okay,,), teasing, ITS BIG BTW AND CURVED……, only praise and pet names (omg who hacked k4s???), groping, fingering, kissing, dry humping on a couch in a very crowded room, one neck bite, san cums untouched, oral (receiving), squirting, one singular pussy slap, san puts reader into a mating press on her husband’s side of the bed just for funsies, manhandling, size kink, breeding kink, creampies (sannie cums a lotttt)
a/n: as a pudding since day 1 i am in absolute shambles thanks for asking <3 and YES im very aware i posted yesterday but the fic demons cannot be silenced!!! and just fyi i’m sure san was very grateful and absolutely brimming with excitement to be at the show!! the way i wrote him here does not reflect his actual feelings towards anything,, its just a silly fic and i wrote what i wanted lol. also i wish i could tell you how many times “dolce and gabbana that’s on my titties~” played in my head while i typed this out 😭😭 (also i did not proofread this whatsoever so forgive me if there are errors) but anyways, i hope you enjoy :33
song recs: la romana by bad bunny, rover by kai, planet goddamn by mac miller
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San knew eyes would be on him. Why wouldn’t they be? He was dressed to the nines, his hair slicked back to showcase his alluring, feline-like eyes, his sharp, angular features that could give someone a fatal cut if they looked for too long, and most importantly, he was all decked out in a sleek black custom-made top that perfectly adorned his broad shoulders and chest, one that even cinched securely around his impossibly tiny waist. Of course it did. It had been custom fit and made just for his body. Even the tailor had jokingly mentioned that Michelangelo himself must’ve sculpted him to perfection in the heavens before San was born, but San wasn’t laughing. He perfected his body through his own sheer willpower and determination alone, to be the best that he could be for his own self — and if people just so happened to drool over the results of his hard work, then that was simply a perk.
Holding his hand up to shield his eyes from the many camera flashes, he continued to make his way down the walkway, offering many of the starstruck guests a courteous, though charming smile, wondering if their wandering gazes were due to his breathtaking ensemble or what was sitting just below it. The thought tickled him. It continued to amuse him throughout the afternoon, taking picture after picture with eager guests and wealthy tycoons alike, quite pleased with himself when neither man nor woman could seem to control themselves around him, their eyes always drifting downwards to look San up and down like he were next up in an auction, their mouths pressed to their champagne flutes in an effort to quell the thirst they felt, their free hands lingering just a little too long on the small of his back when they bid farewell to him.
San relished the fact that these poor starving individuals could never get a taste of him, no matter how incredibly rich or influential they were. None of them would get a bite of the forbidden fruit without permission from God.
It was then that the show started, various eye-catching models sashaying their way across the aisle to showcase the latest D&G collection, all displaying their own unique set of features and charm. All flawless and angelic in their own right, but they were almost predictable in that way — like mannequins made solely for the rich and beautiful to gawk at. San couldn’t help but look past them, only focusing on the expensive, tailor made clothes that were framing their perfect bodies. And after a while, he almost seemed to grow bored. Of what, exactly? He wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the sheer gaudiness of it all, the lack of self awareness for things that really mattered in the modern world, and the almost nauseating amount of self-sucking the rich individuals around him seemed to be fond of doing. San would’ve pondered it more when somebody near him gently patted his thigh, causing him to look down at the small manicured hand, the diamond ring around your finger glinting in the light like a warning sign.
“Are you bored like I am?” you whispered softly into his ear from beside him, giving him a quaint smile when he turned his head to face you.
San blushed, leaning slightly in your direction. “Am I that obvious?”
“No, don’t worry. None of these drones will be able to notice.” You motioned your head to the crowd around you, their phones in hand, all whispering to each other about how revolutionary the new collection was, despite it looking eerily similar to the fall one from the year before. “You could whip your cock out and no one would bat an eye.”
“Oh?” San studied your flirtatious smile, then looked down just to make sure his eyes hadn’t deceived him. Yep, the ring was still there — and it probably cost more than a starter house. Delighted by your forwardness, San took it upon himself to tease you, reaching down to slowly unbutton his slim-fitted pants. “Well, if that’s the case…”
Your cheeks turning bright red, you reached downwards to shield his crotch from view, looking up at him with wide eyes, your faces now impossibly close. “I-i was fucking with you! Don’t actually take out your dick…”
San’s sharpened eyes flitted from your gaze to your cherry red lips, letting go of his zipper to gently take your hand in his, pressing it firmly down onto his thigh. “Yet…?” he challenged huskily, wondering if you were like all the others and would yank your hand back, scoff in disgust, and pretend as if it had never happened. It was then that San felt you squeeze your warm hand into the meat of his thigh, your fingers just barely pressing into the inseam of his pants.
“You can be a good boy and wait till the after party, can’t you?” you asked in a lower, sultrier tone, pressing your lips to his cheek to leave your mark on him, your hand moving further up his thigh, only pulling away when you felt something hard press into your palm. Smiling sweetly, you leaned in again, this time allowing your lips to brush over his. “Good things come to those who wait.”
And just like that, you turned forward to focus on the models all gathering onto the stage at once along with the designers, clapping along with the rest of the crowd when they all took a bow. You blew a kiss to one of the designers who caught it and pretended to put it in his pocket.
Still breathless from your short encounter, San nudged your thigh with his own, biting into his lip and tasting the sweetness of your lipstick. You nudged him back, glancing at him through the corner of yours eyes, licking at your own lips, like a predator would before pouncing on their prey.
San couldn’t believe he had finally met someone like you. There was a serpent in his garden — and he couldn’t wait for it to swallow him up.
-
The after party was predictable as always — strangers binge drinking and snorting powder off of your previously pristine marble tabletops, others telling embellished stories about their latest trip to their private islands to various locked-in acquaintances, some off doing god knows what in your many empty guest rooms, and you could not, for the life of you, care about what your husband was currently cackling over with his close friends, focusing on the crackling wood sitting inside the fireplace you were all huddled near. When you inevitably ran out of champagne, you patted your husband’s leg so that he could remove his arm from your waist.
He looked down at you with indifference. “What is it?”
“I need more champagne, honey. I’m going to get some.”
Your husband’s face scrunched up. “Haven’t you had enough? If you drink anymore, you’re going to lose your nice figure.” He looked to his friends for validation who simply nodded along in agreement.
Your husband’s chauvinistic comments didn’t bother you anymore, just his persistent presence in your life. He was like a mosquito that was always trying to drain you, one that you could never seem to swat away. Well, nothing a little dick couldn’t fix. “That’s funny, because I seem to recall the tailor coming in this morning for an emergency visit to alter a certain suit,” you mentioned, this time pushing your husband’s arm away from you, surveying his now quiet friends with an unbothered look, before wandering off, not registering the insecurity driven ramblings that your husband was sending your way.
Once you made your way into the crowded loft, you searched your surroundings for what you were looking for, humming at the sight of the pretty boy from earlier sitting on the large plush couch in the corner, a half-empty champagne flute in hand, his attention on one of the models that had walked for your husband’s collection a few hours earlier. He was even more handsome now that you could study his captivating details, your eyes drifting over his bulky frame, from his large arms and shoulders, to his delicate waist, and down to his spread thighs, zeroing in on what was between them, knowing that the beautiful stranger was blessed in more ways than one based off what you had felt earlier.
Without hesitation, you slowly made your way across the room, your stiletto heels digging into the fur carpet below with each concentrated step, licking your red lips when the model placed one of her hands on San’s thighs and squeezed it, his suddenly submissive expression causing more knots to form within your core. You were going to make him yours.
San could barely hear the pretty model’s words over the loud music and the many overlapping voices inside the loft, not knowing what to say when she moved closer to him, clearly going in for the kill. It was then that someone stood over him, their heel nudging into his loafer. He looked up, his once hazy eyes opening wide at the sight of you standing above him with a bottle of champagne in one hand, your other hand already cradling his face. “M-miss…there you are…”
“Here I am,” you purred, running your fingers along his jaw, satisfied with the fact that your lipstick print was still visible on his tan skin.
San gulped, just about spilling the drink he was still holding onto, unknowingly spreading his thighs open further, as if he was giving you an unspoken invitation to climb onto his lap.
Humming, you lowered yourself into his lap, your plush thighs and ass pressing snuggly against his lower half. “Look at you,” you cooed softly into San’s ear, not caring to give the now fuming model any attention, lowering the cold champagne bottle in between your bodies, chuckling at the soft whimper he let out when it pressed into the exposed sections of his skin. “You’re such a good boy, saving a seat for Mommy like this. Aren’t you, baby?”
“Y-yes, I am, s-so good for you…”
“Then, be good and open your mouth,” you purred, lifting the almost empty bottle and pouring some into your mouth. San’s jaw slowly dropped, not knowing that he was already beginning to drool. You didn’t mind, clutching the sides of his heated face and pressing your parted lips onto his, transferring the sparkling alcohol to him, but not without running your tongue over his.
San brought his hands up near the sides of your ass, his fingers trembling, not knowing if he was allowed to touch you, whimpering into your mouth when you sucked the alcohol off of his tongue.
“You can touch, baby.” You reached for his wrists and brought his hands underneath the hem of your short dress, gasping when he squeezed the softness of your ass in between his ringed fingers and began to slowly guide your hips, your clothed cunt rubbing back and forth over his stiffening cock. “Mm, someone’s eager, hm? You’re a naughty one, making the main designer’s wife grind on your cock like this in front of everyone.”
“It’s…Mommy’s fault…” San murmured near your ear, rolling his own hips up into yours, making you feel every inch of his trapped throbbing cock each time he ground himself into you, biting into his lip at the sound of your breathless moans, swearing he saw your grimacing husband from over your shoulder.
“My fault, huh? Mommy should make up for it, shouldn’t she?” you sighed back onto his heated skin, pressing kiss after kiss onto his collarbones, dragging your tongue along the constellation of freckles he had on his neck, making him shudder underneath you.
“Uh-huh…” San moaned out, your hand suddenly squeezing into and sliding back and forth over his erection, your thumb repeatedly rubbing over the pronounced tip, knowing he was staining his expensive pants with sticky pre-cum. “F-fuck, I’ll cum if you keep doing that…”
“So sensitive, baby, you’re so cute…but you’re not the only one, you know? Look what you did to Mommy~” You gave his balls a gentle squeeze just to hear him whimper, before letting go, instead reaching for his hand again and leading it between your legs, moving your soaked panties to the side just in time for San to fill you up with two thick fingers.
“You’re so wet…” San groaned, unable to keep himself from adding another digit inside your slick hole, beginning to pump them in and out of you, allowing the both of you to listen to the obscene squelching sounds your cunt made each time he finger-fucked you. Something switched inside of San when you began to whine and whimper, and fuck yourself back on his fingers, your eyebrows screwed upwards, begging him for more with your teary, half-closed eyes. “So fucking wet just for me, huh? Hey, Miss, did you know your husband is standing just across the room? Think he’s hard knowing I just got his pretty little wife wetter than she’s been in her entire life?”
“B-baby, don’t tease me like that,” you whispered, not wanting the control you had over him to slip out of your grasp, grabbing onto his shoulders, accidentally causing pieces of his solid outfit to fall off and land onto the leather couch.
“It’s San, Miss, but you can call me Sannie if you wanna be a good girl for me,” he chuckled, shoving his fingers into you up to the knuckles, rolling your clit around underneath his heavy thumb. “And, I’m not teasing you, my love, he’s really watching us, and he looks like he wants to kill me.”
Just as you looked behind you to catch your husband’s displeased gaze, San began to ram his soaked digits into your spasming cunt, feeling his lips, tongue, and teeth on your neck. “O-oh my god, Sannie, oh, fuckkkk…”
Just as your warm arousal began to pour out onto his fingers and lap, San bit down into the area where your neck and collarbone connected, letting out a few stunted groans, his hips jolting up into yours, coating the insides of his designer pants with white.
“Did you just…?” you began, before San stuffed his fingers into your mouth, growing quiet and sucking your arousal off of them. He pulled them out with a pop, but you didn’t even get the chance to continue your question because you were suddenly being lifted up into the air, strong hands clutching your thighs, your legs hooked around San’s waist.
Your defeated, emasculated husband was just a blur when San carried you through the crowded room and up the stairs, not stopping until he got to the largest room at the end of the expansive hallway.
“Which side does your husband sleep on?” San asked, once he stood at the foot of the kingsized bed.
“On the right. Why do you–O-oh,” you gasped as he quickly laid you out on the right side of the bed and lifted your dress up, forcefully spreading your thighs open so that he could bury his face in your cunt, repeatedly lapping at your slit and clit over your soaked panties until he couldn’t take it, reaching up to tear your panties off with ease. “Sannie, baby boy, what’s gotten into you?”
San looked up at you with dark, dilated eyes, reaching up to his broad body to rip off the rest of his outfit, his solid muscles flexing as he closed his fingers around your waist, yanking you lower so that your cunt was closer to his face, looking like he was about to eat you alive. “Daddy’s hungry,” he simply replied, diving back into your cunt to lick and slurp up your juices, tonguing your hole just to feel you clench around him, his nose nudging your clit as he ate you out like a starved man.
Sooner or later, you began to shudder and pant, tugging at the ends of San’s sweaty hair, your thighs pressing into the sides of his head until he forcefully held them down, quickly moving his head up and down as he dragged his tongue roughly over your throbbing clit, his focused eyes never leaving yours. “S-sannie, I’m really, fuck– I’m gonna cum…!”
“Cum for Daddy,” he demanded gruffly, stuffing three fingers into your cunt and pounding them into your g-spot, lifting your ass up with his other hand so that he could catch the stream of arousal that suddenly squirted out of you, some of it inevitably soaking into the satin sheets below you. San licked your juices from his lips, going down to give your puffy cunt one last lick to savor your taste, before standing up from the bed and unbuckling his pants.
“Y-you….Did you get possessed by a demon?” you asked half-jokingly, unable to keep your thighs from trembling, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your wrist.
“And if I did? You’d still let me fuck you, wouldn’t you?” San smiled devilishly, his dimples appearing, kicking off his pants and running his closed hand along his curved, dripping length. He pressed his thighs against the side of the bed, running the tip of his cock over your lips, watching fondly as you sucked and licked the beads of pre-cum that leaked from the slit.
“I would.” Lifting yourself up so that you could completely rid yourself of your disheveled dress, you reached up for the handsome stranger, licking the saltiness from your lips. “Now, come here and show Mommy just how much Daddy wants her.”
San wasted no time climbing back onto the bed and folding you up into a mating press, leaning back to send a few wads of spit onto your cunt, smacking his hand against the wetness for good measure, before he plunged himself deep inside you.
You just about screamed, not ready for San’s unusual size and shape, the curve of his cock rubbing deliciously along your tightening walls each time he pounded himself into you. “S–ann–ie…! It’s so big, fuck– so good!”
“Aww, poor baby’s never had a big cock stretching out her pretty pussy before, huh?” San cooed into your ear, pulling all the way out, just to slam himself back in, hitting your g-spot dead on, making you cry out deliriously. “You’ll never be able to go back to your husband after this. You’re gonna be begging for me to take care of you from now on….” San pressed his lips against yours, sucking on your tongue as you moaned out for him. “Want you to cum for me again, baby…Squirt on my cock, okay?”
“S-Sannie, it’s too much,” you whined out, dragging your nails down his broad back, your toes curling just as San punched your next orgasm out of you when his curved cock once again came in contact with your g-spot.
As you began to cry from the overwhelming pleasure, San licked your tears away, gently pressing his lips into your cheek and jaw, shushing you. “Don’t worry, baby. Daddy’s here for you.” He clutched you close, holding still inside you, as his cock began to twitch. “Here it comes, princess, just for you.” A hot, creamy stream of cum began to shoot out into you, completely drenching your insides with his load.
You could hardly speak at this point in time, solely concentrated on the pleasure that still had a hold on your sore body and the warmth that was filling you up to the brim, suddenly realizing that your husband really wasn’t going to be happy with you. “Y-you shouldn’t have…nnnngh….”
San continued to roll his hips into you, his eyelids fluttering, groans spilling from his throat, your cunt still milking his pulsing cock for all it had, which was a lot, to say the least. Once there was nothing left to give you, San leaned down, pressing one last kiss to your lips, not caring that you had left your lipstick all over him. “Can I ask you something, baby?”
“Y-yes, San?”
San smiled, his glossy brown eyes glistening in the light. “When you have my baby, will you have the heart to tell your poor husband that it’s actually mine?”
Panting heavily and trying to process what the handsome stranger just said, you finally came to the realization that you let someone who didn’t even know your name possibly impregnate you. Well, at least you had something to talk about over breakfast with your husband, rather than hear him go on and on about his latest collection.
“I’m not sure about that one…”
“Can I ask you one more question?”
“Hm?”
“Should I name our baby Dolce or Gabbana?”
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© kitten4sannie, 2024.
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anantaru · 2 months
Text
— when he kisses you
including. zhongli, cyno, diluc, kinich
genre. making out & slightly suggestive, gn! reader
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— zhongli
alongside zhongli, you feel his presence instantly, it reminds you of a comforting and reassuring constant— a cradling you wholly worshipped as the bustle of the harbor behind you faded away.
"thank you for showing me this place," your eyes glow as you said softly, glancing up at him, "it's beautiful."
with you, zhongli can leave his stern demeanor behind for once and actually smile, wholeheartedly, his golden eyes warm just by the mere sight of you, "it is a place i often come to for reflection."
"i thought you might appreciate its tranquility."
feeling a sense of peace wash over you, you took in the serene surroundings— the gentle rustling of leaves and the soft trickle of a nearby stream creating a soothing melody as zhongli held you in his arms.
the moment felt perfect, almost surreal.
his gaze was intense, dragon eyes yet so tender when he looks at you.
before you could say anything, he leans in, his hand gently cupping your cheek to feel you on his cold skin— within this subtle second, the world seemed to pause as he fully leans in, his lips meeting yours in a slow, purposeful kiss.
it was unlike anything you had ever experienced before— his lips were soft, his tongue deep, and filled with a profound sense of reverence as he captured you.
your mind swirled with a mix of emotions as his kiss was turning measured, each movement precise and purposeful, as if he was savoring every second— almost as if he was scared you'd one day, disappear from his lonely, immortal life.
the experience he held in life and the time he's conquered was evident in the way he guided the kiss, controlled it, drew you in and made you feel cherished beyond words.
as he deepened the kiss, a heated curl crept up your cheeks, your shyness growing with each passing moment.
you couldn't help but feel self-conscious about your own inexperience compared to his practiced, almost ancient touch— yet, zhongli's gentle and patient approach made you feel safe and valued, as if you were the only person in the world.
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— cyno
"ugh— today was exhausting," you exhale shakily, bound within exhaustion, yet your voice was barely above a whisper, not wanting to break the serene silence as you rested against cyno's shoulder.
and well, he? he simply looked at you, his eyes intense yet gentle, "indeed, it was," he agrees with a small smile playing at his lips, "but it was worth it, having you by my side Iimean."
the butterflies finish filling your stomach, and the spinning in your mind begins— fuck, you adore him so much, and the sincerity in his tone made your heart race, "i'm glad i could be with you," you replied, your smile tight to your teeth like you're holding back a grin, "thank you for taking me,"
before advancing, he takes your hand in his, his thumb gently caressing your skin, "there’s just something about you i cannot discern," he begins to ponder, his gaze never leaving yours, "that makes everything we do together feel special."
you knew what was coming— was this finally it? cyno has never kissed you before and beneath your nervousness, your breath hitched in anticipation.
his hand moved to the back of your neck, his touch firm yet controlled as he pressed you closer.
his lips met yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle— it was messy and raw, filled with a demanding passion that took your breath away— it's as if he was waiting, storing this bubbling energy and deep want inside his heart for the longest time.
it pained him, fuck, he wanted to kiss you a million times already.
cyno kissed you as if he couldn't get enough, his mouth moving against yours with an urgency that left you feeling dizzy— truly, you could feel the heat of his desire inside each kiss and lap of tongue, in the way he seemed to pour all of his stored up emotions into every movement.
you moaned softly against his lips, your hands gripping his shoulders for support as he continued his fervent assault on your plush lips.
cyno's kisses were unrestrained, a chaotic mix of tenderness and hunger that sent shivers down your spine, no, it was beyond that— well into the confines of your flesh, he took over as he nipped at your bottom lip, teasing you before deepening the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with a possessive fervor.
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— diluc
the tavern was quiet after closing hours, even quieter after the last customer have left minutes ago as the dim lighting created a cozy, intimate atmosphere.
you actually favored this time of the night, especially when you helped your boyfriend diluc clean up the tavern, the clinking of glasses and the soft hums of the wind outside the only sounds that were almost as serene and familiar as his tender exhales.
in all honesty, he never wants you to help him, rather does he love watching you wait for him as he does all the work— yet he cannot lie, it makes his heart ten times faster when you really want to help him, just because you love him so much.
"thank you for staying to help," the master of the dawn winery says, despite a little awkward, yet his voice gentle as he wiped down the bar covered in wine, "you really didn't need to,"
"of course, diluc, no need to thank me," you reply, smiling at him. "i enjoy spending time with you, no matter what we do as long as we're together."
he glances at you in an almost shocked expression, like your little confession was struck inside his heart and carved there for eternity, a soft look in his eyes making your heart flutter, "there’s something about these quiet moments that i cherish too,"
you felt a warmth spread through you at his words, they're always so carefully selected, so passionately exuded, and you keep sneaking little glances over to him while he finishes off his task. 
as you finished your own, you too noticed how diluc was watching you with a contemplative expression and before you could ask what he was thinking, he stepped closer, his presence magnetic, his smile intoxicating.
he exhaustedly huffs out before nuzzling his head in your neck while wrapping one large arm around your waist.
you giggle, welcoming him and stroking over his silken hair as his lips brushed against the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.
the touch was soft at first, almost hesitant, but as he felt you relax into him, his kisses grew more confident.
diluc’s lips moved with a slow, unhurried precision, each kiss a perfect blend of pressure and tenderness— beyond that, he seemed to know exactly where to place them, as if he had memorized every inch of your neck.
the sensation was eye crossing, a mix of warmth and electricity that left you breathless and at his total mercy.
you close your eyes, your fingers gripping his shirt as he continued— each kiss seemingly lasting an eternity when in reality, not long enough.
his mouth explores with a patience and care that enveloped you, all of his senses filled by your scent, the temperature of your body and your traces on his scalp.
the way he kissed you spoke volumes, a silent declaration of his feelings as the way you welcomed it made him feel safe.
when he reaches a particularly sensitive spot just below your ear, you couldn’t suppress a soft moan— and you're a sweating mess by now , yet diluc abruptly paused, his breath warm against your skin,
"did I hurt you?" he asks, concern lacing his voice.
"no," you whisper and tug him closer to you "it feels… incredible."
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— kinich
"kinich," your breath hitches the moment you open the door to your bedroom and find yourself looking at the mysterious man you've barely known for a week, a hand over your heart signalizing your surprise.
"you scared me."
"apologies, my dear," he drawls, smirking, his voice smooth and calm, " i didn’t mean to frighten you, i would never intentionally do such."
"—although, i needed to see you,"
you smile at him, slightly awkwardly but granted, he did break into your home.
up till now, the tension eases as you placed your jacket on the drawer next to your bed, "uh, it's alright, it would be better if you could tell me next time."
kinich's gaze softens, a playful glint in his eyes, "so— you don't like when i surprise you?" he says, stepping closer, "the quiet of the night is a perfect time for surprises, no?"
you roll your eyes, feeling a warmth spread through you at his sudden nearness— he's so close, but what was he thinking? what games was he playing and were you even able to participate?
fuck, there was just something different about kinich tonight, a confidence in his demeanor that made your heart skip a beat.
and as he moved even closer, you could feel the intensity of his presence and his signature musk, his eyes immediately locking onto yours.
"you want me to show you my actual reason for coming here?" he toys with you, pinching your cheek.
shortly after, he closes the gap between you, his hand gently but firmly pressing against your lower back as with a swift, smooth motion, he guides you until you felt back against the soft mattress of your bed.
the suddenness of it took your breath away, catching you off guard and as you looked up at him, his eyes glow wide.
"I couldn't help myself, —couldn't get you out of my head," he whispers, his lips a hairbreadth away from yours, "you draw me in like no one else, you put a spell on me or something?"
without another word, he captured your lips in a kiss that was both confident and playful, a perfect blend of passion and control that marked the obvious in his personality.
his mouth moved against yours with a practiced ease, exploring and conquering with a fervor that left you wish for more, thighs clenching— not to mention the intensity of his kiss which was simply overwhelming, in fact, you found yourself surrendering to it, letting him lead you.
kinich's free hand found its way to your hip, holding you firmly against the bed as he deepened the kiss in no time.
for the first time, you could feel the strength in his grip, the possessiveness in his touch, and it made you both a little scared and excited.
beyond second thoughts, his lips were hungry, his kisses demanding and full of a restrained desire that seemed to build up with every passing second he wasn't able to see you.
you melt against him, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling his abs tightly as his tongue lapped around your own in a masterful dance that left you yearning for more.
"you're irresistible," he admits bluntly before releasing his grip on your hips and sliding his palm lower, "—and every time i see you, i have to fight the urge to do this."
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ineffabletargtowers · 2 months
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Reading
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Summary: You discover that your husband has been practicing his High Valyrian
Content: SFW, angst, fluff, insecurity, making out, neglect (Viserys), self-harm (fingernail picking), suggestive themes
Words: 1.0K
You could hear Aegon mumbling something to himself as you entered the small council chamber. “Good morrow, husband,” you said, smiling at him. To your surprise, he quickly flipped a book closed and turned it over, rising from where he had been seated at the head of the table and moving towards you. “Were you reading?” you asked, pleasantly surprised. With the exception of erotic literature, Aegon usually loathed books. 
“No,” Aegon said quickly, a blush coloring his cheeks a lovely red. “I’m not Aemond or Daeron. There are better ways for me to spend my time.” He looked at you through hooded eyes, his lips curling into a smile as he brought his hands to your waist. “For example,” he murmured, “I could have you on this table.” 
You cupped his face as you kissed him, warm streaks of arousal coursing through your body and pooling in your stomach. Even as desire threatened to cloud your mind, you found yourself wondering what he had been reading. Still, regret seared in your chest as you gently pulled your lips away from his own. “That book,” you began, your voice wavering when Aegon quickly began to leave a searing trail of kisses along the column of your neck. “What is that book?” You had initially assumed that it was an erotic text, but his aversion to discussing it led you to suspect that he deemed it too explicit to discuss offhandedly. 
Aegon gently nipped at the soft flesh at the base of your neck, drawing a whimper from your lips. “Nothing with which you need concern yourself,” he said lightly. 
You moaned quietly as his hands roamed all over your body, copping handfuls of your tits and ass. Your body screamed at you to surrender, to abandon your query and let him consume you until you knew nothing but him. After a long moment in which you very nearly gave in, you tore yourself away from your husband’s grasp and hurried over to the book he had left atop the table. Aegon followed you quickly, hopelessly attempting to snatch the leather-bound tome from your hands. You opened the text, expecting something enticing and extraordinarily explicit, and frowned at the symbols which held no meaning to you. “Is this High Valyrian?” 
Aegon fidgeted at your side, picking at the beds of his thumbnails. “Is it? I hadn’t noticed.” You glanced at him, watching carefully as his face flushed and he looked away. “I stole it from Aemond so I could watch the uptight twat get upset about losing it,” he blustered. 
You smiled thinly, setting the book down and gently taking Aegon’s hands in your own. He could claim whatever he wanted, but you knew your husband better than he evidently believed. “Were you reading? What is it about?” 
He slowly met your eyes, a hollow look in his gaze. “It is a dragon history. I think.” You squeezed his hands, tears burning your throat as you saw the shame on his face. He sighed, his shoulders sagging as he glanced at the book. “It took me an hour to read one page. I’m fucking hopeless.” He laughed bitterly. “I bet Aemond read the whole thing in an hour.” 
Your heart felt like it was breaking as you pulled him into your arms, holding his body flush against your own as sobs wracked his form. “Your brother spends little time on anything that isn’t reading or swinging a sword,” you said gently. “It is alright that you do not share the same interests.” 
“He honors our family,” Aegon mumbled into your neck. “He ought to be the firstborn.” 
You gently ran your fingers through his blond locks. “Yet he is not, and he accepts this, though he would be dead before admitting it. He may desire the crown, but your brother is fiercely loyal to you and will be at your side when the moment comes.” 
Aegon sighed. “What a complicated prick.” 
You laughed. “He seeks the same acceptance and recognition that you so often search for.” You slowly moved out of your husband’s embrace, smiling at him as you wiped the tears off of his cheeks. “Now, have you been working on your High Valyrian?” His eyes flickered to the tops of his boots as he nodded. “And do you wish to continue to do so?” 
Aegon considered your words carefully. “I think so,” he said after a moment. “I figured I could teach myself. That’s what Aemond did, since Viserys never bothered to even offer to help.” His lower lip quivered as he continued. “I never wanted to learn it because I was afraid that it would make me more like my father.” 
“You could never be that disgrace of a man.” You scowled. “And you should not deprive yourself on that account.”
“I suppose I will enjoy cursing out Aemond without Mother knowing,” Aegon mused. He smiled. “And I believe I am not entirely hopeless. Sunfyre seems to understand me.” 
You gently kissed his cheek. “Of course he does. Aemond may ride the largest dragon in the world, but your bond with Sunfyre is something unique and impressive.” 
“Do you really believe that?” Aegon asked quietly. 
You nodded. “With all of my heart.” 
He kissed you gently, a tender contrast to his usual intensity. When he pulled away after a long moment, he smiled in the rare way of his, his eyes bright and his cheeks lightly flushed. “I love you.” 
Your cheeks burned pleasantly as warmth bloomed in your chest. “And I love you.” 
He contemplated your words for a moment, then grinned shyly. “Avy,” he hesitated, then continued, “jorrāelan. Avy jorrāelan.” I love you.
“I suppose that I can infer what that means,” you said, taking Aegon’s hand and leading him towards the doors as you picked up the book. Before you left the room, you squeezed his hand gently. “Should you ever desire any assistance, I will do what I can for you.” 
Aegon pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “Thank you, my love.” 
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pathologicalreid · 3 months
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could we get Spencer Reid with a hypersexual reader that uses sex as a bad coping mechanism? 💕💕
don't look in the mirror | S.R.
seeking comfort in those you hold close, except there's a right way and a wrong way to do it
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst (i think?) w/ mature themes (18+ mdni) content warnings: seeking comfort in sex, avoidance, mental health issues, spencer has those info dumps on lock, shame, self deprecation, reader hates her job (me too), blood as a metaphor, crying word count: 1.85k a/n: this is such an important topic and i'm so thankful for you asking me to write this!!!! i know this is a premise i've seen before, so i tried to make mine different. (im actually really proud of how this one turned out)
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“Baby,” Spencer whispered in your ear, turning his head to the side as you left small, slow kisses on the exposed skin of his neck.
You hummed but refused to detach your lips from his soft skin, tugging gently at his shirt so that you could make your way down to his collarbone. He smelled like sunshine and the jet, an admittedly odd combo that did nothing to stop your movements down the column of his throat. His neck vibrated with sound, but none of his words registered, it all went in one ear and out the other.
His hand gently settled on the small of your back and you took a deep breath before you began pulling at the knot of his tie, “Y/N,” he muttered in a warning.
Your head snapped up at his tone, disappointed that you didn’t find the same want in his eyes that you knew was blazing in your own irises. Synapses in your brain were firing at lightning speed, and your heart was beating so quickly that it was like it was trying to keep up. “I missed you,” you whispered to him, allowing your eyes to flitter across his face.
Spencer settled his hands on your hips, firmly grabbing them in exactly the way you wanted, but instead of pulling you closer to him, he stilled their rotation.
Your heart stuttered.
“What happened?” He asked you tentatively, using the pads of his thumbs to rub soothing circles on your hips, trying to keep you from moving while giving you comfort. Despite the way you were sitting in his lap, Spencer still felt worlds away from you – if he was on Earth, you were in a different galaxy. 
Hesitantly, your lips parted, and you took a deep breath before shutting your mouth again, deciding you had nothing to say. While he’d been away, nothing significant had happened, everything in your life had trudged on exactly the way it always did. You went to work at the same job you’ve had since you got out of college with a boss who most certainly had it out for you, and you came home to an empty apartment with your phone volume all the way up, waiting for your boyfriend to call you. You really were pathetic, but you didn’t voice those concerns, instead, you answered, “Nothing happened,” the half-truth easily slid from your mouth. “Can’t I just have missed my boyfriend and want to spend quality time with him?”
Spencer hummed thoughtfully, tilting his head back as his hair moved with him, “Stop, Y/N,” he said.
Without even realizing it, your hands had drifted down to his chest, and your hands were absentmindedly fiddling with the buttons of his shirt, “I didn’t…” you started to say, but your words faltered when you noticed the way he was looking at you. You looked over your shoulder, making sure that the rest of the world was still there as you tried to climb off of Spencer’s lap. “Let me go,” you insisted, hating how small your voice sounded as you pushed against him to no avail.
“I can’t let you go, not right now,” he told you, steadying his resolve as he watched you. You were staring at your hands like they were covered in blood, red-covered palms as you watched, horrified at the idea of them developing a mind of their own. It wasn’t as if your hands had suddenly become sentient entities, your heart and your brain were working against each other, fighting a silent, internal war. “Pick a spot for your hands, and just leave them there,” he whispered to you.
Your hands tremored as you settled them on either one of Spencer’s shoulders, “You don’t find me attractive anymore,” you mumbled, struggling to find the strength to enunciate your thoughts.
Spencer sighed, “Why don’t we take a minute, okay?” Delicately, he moved one hand from its station on your hip and moved it to cup your cheek, holding your face as if it were made of fine china. “What happened while I was gone, honey?”
His hand was wet on your face, or rather, your face was wet from tears that had started to trickle from your tear ducts. You furrowed your brows in frustration, “Why do you assume that something happened? Nothing happened while you were gone, why can’t you just let that be the answer?”
“Because it’s not the answer,” he insisted, dropping his hand back to your hip, continuing to stop you from getting up and moving away from him.
You scoffed, “Is it not the answer, or is it just not the answer you’re looking for, Spencer?”
“It’s not the answer, and I’m looking for the answer. You can tell me anything,” he urged, resuming his soothing movements over your hip.
As you watched his expression morph into a slight panic, you realized he was beginning to think something happened to you. With what he did for work, it was always in the back of his mind, you being in danger of being hurt by other people but what he rarely considered was the idea of you being a danger to yourself. “Nothing happened, okay? Absolutely nothing happened to me while you were gone and everything in the world stayed exactly the fucking same. I went to work every day and I came home and sat around while I waited for you to call, I waited for you to come home and now you won’t even touch me.”
Your tears kept coming, leaving saline stains on his gray shirt as your head spun and his movements stopped. “Work was bad?” He asked softly, using his fingertips to wipe beneath your eyes. He knew about your issues at work, he had been encouraging you to leave the job for months, but you were convinced that a promotion was coming. “You shouldn't have to be miserable every time you go to work.”
“Not everyone gets to be hand-picked for a top job at twenty-one. Some people have to work shitty jobs to make ends meet,” you snapped at him, nostrils flaring angrily.
He didn’t answer right away, you became hyperaware of the pounding of your heart as you waited for his response. As you waited for him to kick you out. “I told you that I’d support you if you wanted to go back to school. I meant it, Y/N,” he told you, brown eyes flooded with concern. “You can leave your job and pursue your dream, that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you, baby.” Spencer leaned back against the couch cushions, “I can’t help you until you help yourself, love.”
Slouching your shoulders, you felt your eyes starting to line with tears again, “It feels so unfair to have you shoulder more responsibility so that I can go back to school.”
“No,” he said, “What’s not fair is you lying to me and then trying to avoid it with sex. I asked you how your week had been, and you either didn’t care to answer me or you have such bad tunnel vision that you didn’t even hear me.” He gently chided, giving you time to drown in the blatant concern in his eyes, “and what’s worse is you never told me it was this bad.”
You averted your eyes, focusing your gaze on the chessboard behind him as you thought about your next move. In one fell swoop, he could checkmate you, completely catch you off guard, and tell you everything that you didn’t want to hear. Alternatively, you could sacrifice yourself for his benefit, “I hate my job. My boss is making it impossible for me to make any positive stride, and that’s on top of him being a misogynistic douche.” You flexed your hands where they remained on Spencer’s shoulders and sighed, “And yes, I miss you when you’re gone. Yes, I lied to you about it, but what would you do about it? Leave your big important job because your girlfriend is lonely?”
He craned his head to the side, silently encouraging you to make eye contact with him, “I’d hope that you’d feel comfortable enough to tell me how you’re feeling so that we could work something out – we can talk through this. It’s a two-way street though, you have to talk to me. I can make an effort to call and text more if you promise me, you’ll make an effort to communicate with me.”
Slowly, you started to nod, “I… I can do that, but you hate texting,” you reminded him, raising your eyebrows curiously.
“I’ll get over it,” he reassured you, studying your features, “You’re worth it,” he added.
Finally, you pulled your arms back, hugging them around yourself protectively, “I’m sorry,” you murmured, “I don’t know why I am… the way that I am.”
Spencer took a deep breath before giving you a look that told you he had an inkling, “You’re unhappy, with me or the world, it doesn’t matter, but you think the solution to your displeasure comes in the form of an orgasm and that’s just not the answer, honey.”
You hiccupped and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself like you could make yourself smaller, “I still don’t know why though.”
“You’re seeking the rush, not necessarily the act of sex itself, you want the dopamine and oxytocin rush that comes with an orgasm. Your brain convinces yourself that it’s what you need because when you get unhappy like this, all you can focus on is how to feel better and fast,” he spoke to you gently – he knew this wasn’t what you wanted to hear, but it was what you needed to hear. “It’s brief, and it’s just for that moment, and your brain might even recall how your parasympathetic nervous system shuts down after you come, and your body gets tired. You get a rush of serotonin, and you relax enough to convince yourself that it'll be okay, but you need to find something more permanent. I’ll help you.”
Your arms fell limply at your sides, “Do you think I’m broken?”
The small smile he gave you was enough of an answer, “No, in fact, I know you’re not broken.” Tenderly, he reached out and unwound your arms from around your torso, “And since I know you won’t stop thinking about it, I do still find you attractive.” Spencer studied your face, “Where do you want to start?”
“Do you want to help me draft a letter of resignation?” You offered, giving Spencer a shy smile.
He hummed in response, “Yeah, in a bit.” Your boyfriend reached his hands out to you, now being the one who pulled you close, “Come here, darling.”
You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder and sighing as he wrapped his arms around your torso, “I missed you,” you mumbled, entirely deflating your lungs as you let yourself relax.
Spencer reached up, ruffling your hair with one hand and keeping another on the small of your back as he sighed with you, “I missed you too.”
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call-sign-shark · 9 months
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Of Bending and Breaking || Tommy Shelby x Reader
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Summary: Always being the one who cares for others comes with a price: you break down, but the most unexpected person is here for you: Tommy, the man you were forced to marry.
Words: 2,3k
TW: Hurt/Comfort, very tiny mention of past sexual assault, no proofreading 'cause it comes from clearing my drafts.
Notes: Aunt Isabella's is a tribute to my own aunt Isabelle who, unfortunately, died because of cancer a few years ago.
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It all started with Polly shaking Tommy like a tree, her thin hands firmly grabbing his nephew’s broad shoulders: “You can’t keep sabotaging yourself like this, Tom.” These were the words that left her quivering lips as she dragged his staggering frame to the bathroom and pushed his face into the bathtub right under the tap. When the freezing water splashed all over his neck, Tommy opened his blank eyes wide and inhaled sharply, as if he had suddenly come back to life. Since Grace’s awful death, the gangster was the shadow of his former self. When he wasn’t waging a senseless war with Father Hughes and the Italian, or when he wasn’t keeping his buzzing mind busy with work, Tommy usually numbed himself with a deadly combination of whisky and opium until his deep-seated pain became bearable. It was the night he almost overdosed that Polly decided to take charge of his nephew and found him a new wife, in the hope of soothing his nephew’s mind and finding a mother figure for poor little Charlie. The idea had obviously sent Tommy in a fit of anger but Polly Gray couldn’t care less.
Regarding your own situation, it was not the opium nor the loss of a dear lover that had led you to Birmingham’s most dangerous man but rather the bump in your belly. Aunt Isabella had understood what you were suffering from the moment you had stormed out of the vardo to throw up your breakfast in the nearest bush. The tall and lean woman, whose light brown and curly mane danced in the cold autumn wind, had looked at you right in the eyes and raised one of her thin eyebrows. If there was something pleasant with her, it was that words weren’t necessary.
Yet, later she encountered Polly, with whom she had been a great friend since childhood, and explained that a powerful American man had forced his seeds in you during his stay in England. Not willing to go through the traumatic experience of aborting, Isabella only saw one solution to your problem: you needed a husband who could protect you and your future baby from the evil man with his scarred lip. A wedding would be your salvation. At the realization of what Aunt Isabella had planned for you, you tried to run away from the camp in the middle of the night but she knew you too well and soon caught you, her sly hand firmly grabbing your wrist: “Y/N! It’s for your sake! He’s rich, he needs a wife and he is feared! You’ll be safe with him, don’t you understand?” She explained, cupping your face with her long fingers adorned with claws painted in red and far too many rings. “I don’t need a man to protect me! I don’t need anyone. He’s older and he’s a criminal! Who’s going to protect me from him eh? Have you think ‘bout that?” You cried, the soft light of the sunrise turning your tears into liquid gold.
But still, you wedded him and what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life turned out to be a dull event during which you dissociated the whole time. The only memories you had in mind were two piercing and frightening turquoise eyes staring right at your soul and soft whiskey-tasting lips stealing a quick peck from your cherry lips. A kiss devoid of any form of affection. And then, the groom left.
From what Aunt Isabella told you, your husband had spent most of the celebrations with his brothers, drinking and taking bets outside of Arrow House. Months had passed and still, you felt estranged to this place and its staff. The only moments your heart lightened were when Aunt Isabella visited you, or when Charlie spent time with you, otherwise you remained emotionally closed, trapped in your own mind. Overall you could not complain: You had a house far too big for you with plenty of workers willing to exhaust every one of your wishes. Charlie was a sweet boy, who loved you with all his heart even if you were well aware that you’ll never replace his mother. As for the Shelby clan, they were cordial with you without being really friendly either. And there was Tommy…
Cold and distant Tommy, who you only saw late at night when he discretely slipped under the bedsheet and turned his back to you without uttering a single word. Busy Tommy, whose replies remained concise and spoken with a quiet husky voice each time you asked him something — at least he talked to you a little bit. Trapped in a loveless marriage, that was what you were: Tommy was more a stranger, a mere gust of wind in your life, than the love of your life.
Still, the gangster stayed true to his words and he provided for everything, never refusing to give you money when you asked, and protecting you from the man who had taken your innocence. He even gifted you a wonderful stallion because he knew how much you missed riding. In exchange for his protection and riches, all you had to do was take care of Charlie and do your best to be there for your husband when his darkness threatened to swallow him whole.
You found out about the nightmares shortly after your wedding and quickly decided to do something about it. When he woke up screaming and drenched in sweat after tasting the tunnels’ dirt and Grace’s crimson blood in his troubled sleep, you always cradle him, your fingers losing themselves in his wet dark hair to pet his head gently. At first, you feared his reaction, expecting the infamous Tommy Shelby to push you and not-so-kindly ask you to keep your distance but, to your greatest surprise, he never did. Instead, he would bury his face in your cleavage, panting and trembling, and let you reassure him. Just like he let you bring dinner to him each time he drowned himself in paperwork and forgot to eat. He never commented on your cooking skills though, even if he always handed back empty plates.
The blood on his skin? You cleaned it.
The wounds of his flesh? You never failed to patched them up.
The hole in his heart? You tried to seal it off with caresses, soft kisses, and shoulder massages. Maybe one day he would slowly turn his iciness into affection. Little did you know that he needed it. And by it he needed you. Just like the whole family. How many times did you walk the streets of Birmingham at night, seeking for Arthur and then bringing him home to take care of a wasted and high him? Far too many to keep track. Similarly, you had spent countless evenings helping Ada when she felt overwhelmed, either nursing Karl or cleaning her house when, just like her brother, she overworked herself. And finally, Polly could never thank you enough for everything you did to soothe her mind after the gallows, still haunted by the bite of the hanging rope on her throat.
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“Thanks Poppy.” Arthur muttered, the gravel in his voice coated with shame now that you were down clearing and disinfecting his split knuckles. The oldest brother had started to affectionately call you so for the sole reason that, according to him, you must probably grow better when blood was considering how much you had seen when patching the Shelby siblings. “Sorry for errr… For the mess.” He went on, his steel blue eyes fleeing yours.
“That’s okay.” You replied in Romani, “You, sweet idiot.” Endeared by how surprisingly soft Arthur’s harsh complexions could turn, you couldn’t help but gently put your hand on one of his cheeks. And during this tender display of affection, Arthur was convinced he had caught sight of a smile — a scarce event barely happening on your beautiful but resigned face. Comforted by the warmth of your palm, he leaned into your touch and looked at you through dark lashes, his lids half-closed.
“Tommy’s one lucky bastard to have ya for himself, eh."
"Let's both flee together then." You teased, the familiar tone of Romani language rendered even more melodious by your siren-like voice.
"Don't tempt me, little one." Arthur replied, softer than intended and probably only half-joking.
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The oldest Shelby brother had barely closed the door when your smile disappeared and tears flooded your eyes. Admittedly, spending months of repressing your own anguish didn’t do any good to you despite thinking that focusing on others would have helped. Quite the contrary, all those negative emotions you had left on the back burner turned into a silent and deadly parasite that was eating you up. Dragging your tired frame to the cold and empty marital bedroom, you curled up in a ball in a corner of the room, your bruised knees pressed against your chest, “Positive. You gotta stay positive and push forwards y’see Y/N? Do the right things for the family…” You whispered to yourself as your breath started to quicken for the ball of sorrow in your throat was growing more and more. Yes, you had to smile and say that all was just fine because you knew you were lucky to be here and that you hadn’t any real reason to complain now according to the rest of the world. And yet, the truth was you were tired. So tired and overwhelmed by everything around you. With your wild soul trapped here in the mighty walls of Arrow House, you could not help but drown in an excruciating feeling of worthlessness.
You were lost in a world too difficult for you to understand. Lost and unprepared for a life that asked for too much. When you were living in the vardo with Aunt Isabella life seemed so much easier despite the lack of money and, sometimes, food. Prior to your wedding, she used to tell you that everything would become clear once you’d be a wife and a mother. You’d be an adult adult, you see? But she lied. They all lied. Even with a husband and kids, you still felt like a scared and confused child, who wanted to hide under the blanket of her warm bed and never face the world ever again. These concerns of yours? You never shared because you wanted the Shelby to keep seeing you as a reassuring presence— moreover, God knew how much their broken hearts needed your silent care.
Bringing your trembling fingers to your mouth, you muffled a first sob, convinced it would be enough to keep you from crying. What you didn’t expect was to burst into tears, uncontrollably weeping. After all this time forcing yourself to be strong, your mind had enough. As your heart-wrenching cries echoed in the room they muffled Tommy’s footsteps that were coming closer and closer. When the door flung open, you did not even move, lost in a spiral of pain and psychological exhaustion.
“Y/N?!” Tommy called you, his usual coldness swept away by a surge of panic. He closed the distance between you and him with hastened steps, and put one of his knees on the floor to be at your level, “What’s wrong, ay?” His husky voice asked, worries thickening his Brummie accent even more. You hiccuped and raised your flooded eyes towards him, parting your lips to answer. Yet, as soon as your gaze met his turquoise iris you started weeping again, louder this time. Words were at a loss by dint of never having the chance to express what you felt throughout your life. “Bloody Hell, Y/N! Speak!” Tommy hissed, his heart now drumming in his chest at the sight of his young and always-so-strong wife crumbling in bits in front of him. Never in his life, he had felt so powerless, not even in the tunnels… And, God, he hated it.
“N-nothing. I don’t… I don’t even know it’s just that— I’m so fucking tired, and lost, and confused, and afraid!” You spoke with a very fast pace, spitting years and years of repressed emotions flowing from you all the while feeling deeply ashamed of your mental breakdown. When you were done venting, you simply turned your head and waved off the topic, tears still rolling down your reddened cheeks “Anyway! You’ve got — more important things to do.”
“Stop it, Y/N,” He scolded, low voice rumbling in his chest. His strong and calloused hands, damaged by the war and hard work, cupped your face with a softness you didn’t know he possessed. For the first time in your life, his grip felt utterly reassuring as if you knew these scarred palms were not going to let you fall apart. Never. “You’re what’s important right now.” With that being said, Tommy leaned his forehead against yours and his enchanting eyes soon met yours to force you to focus on nothing else but the vast blue oceans which composed them. “I want you to calm down.”
“I can’t, I can’t—“ You tried to speak but you couldn’t, struggling to breathe under the crushing weight of your panic attack. Your mouth gaped, looking for the oxygen it couldn’t find.
“Oi!” Tommy said louder. So loud that his voice managed to overcome the cacophony of your beating heart and the buzzing sound of your anxiety that filled your head, “I want you to breathe with me, Y/N. Alright? You can do that for me, ay?” He asked, his eyebrows slightly frowned and charming crowfeet appearing at the corner of his eyes — how odd it was to see Tommy’s face veiled with something else than unsettling placidity. Caught off guard by the sudden realization of how close he was, you quieted down a little bit and soon followed the pattern of his breathing.
One long inhale through the nose, one longer exhale through the mouth, and a short pose.
Do it again.
Your shaky hands slowly grabbed his wrists in a desperate attempt to anchor you to reality. This, as well as the focus you had on his mesmerizing complexions.
His long dark lashes — you inhaled slowly.
His cat-like turquoise iris — you exhaled.
His salient cheekbones — You stopped breathing for a very short while.
The myriad of freckles — “Breathe with me, Y/N.”
The soft, hoarse lilt guided you through the dark and thick fog of your own brain, just like a lighthouse. Coming back to clearer waters, your body finally relaxed and fell almost limp in his arms. And once again he caught you, keeping you all safe against his chest. Tommy’s voice, low and steady, resonated one last time in the bedroom with a reassuring warmth as he uttered the simple yet powerful phrase, "I'm here." Each word carefully enunciated, carrying a quiet strength that soothed and reassured, like a comforting anchor in a stormy sea.
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Keep your writers motivated: Reblog and/or comment if you liked it, you filthy animal! o/ English is not my first language btw.
Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @red-riding-wood
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lxkeee · 8 months
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MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE
pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x angel! fem! reader
fandom: Hazbin Hotel
genre: semi-angst
notes: will probably make more parts to this if anyone wants me to
PART TWO | PART THREE
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Lucifer paced back and forth in his chambers, avoiding the piles of rubber ducks as he anxiously bit his nails. He had just opened the portal for his daughter to enter heaven for a meeting. He never felt this much fear in his whole life, he's worried for her daughter—he fears the higher beings would crush her the same way they had crushed him.
“I am sure she'll be fine...” he mutters, his eyes landing on the picture frame of him and charlie that's on his table—beside his newly created fire breathing rubber duck. It's not fine, Charlie is his pride and joy. He wants to preserve her smile and shelter her but she's a grown woman now and he regrets missing out on her life as he was busy wallowing in self pity.
Lucifer's shoulders hung low as he let out a long and tired sigh, his legs brought him to the balcony of his chambers, grabbing his newly made fire breathing rubber duck in the process, pushing the doors open and leaning against the railings, placing the duck on the railings. “Now that I've thought about it, I made so many regrets in life.” he mutters sadly, his eyes gazing at the smoke filled skies of hell. He couldn't see any stars or moon. He remembers when he was still up there, always gazing up in the sky with, “[y/n]....” says sadly. She was the only angel who believed in him, who agrees with him. They were best friends, he used to fly around the skies with her. She was one of the first few angels God created, he is one of those angels of course. His the one that got away.
“....and with that, I think humans should have free will, they shouldn't be stuck following so many rules.” Lucifer mutters, avoiding the gaze of his best friend, “I know, you probably think it's idiotic to think like tha—” his voice was cut off as the girl beside him placed a shushing finger over his lips. His wings fluttered from the contact of her skin against his lips, cheeks heating up slightly. “Don't think like that, your dreams for mankind are amazing and I agree, too many rules aren't fun.” [y/n] giggles softly as she removes her finger away from his lips.
At that moment, Lucifer was able to gaze at her smiling face. Her three pairs of wings flutter behind her—so warm whenever she hugs him, her hair perfectly framing her face—so soft to touch, the golden halo on top of her head—like a crown, her beautiful smiling face—especially her lips, he wonders what it feels like against his own. Oh god, he's falling for her isn't he?
Lucifer shakes his head, he shouldn't be thinking inappropriate thoughts about her. He just composed himself and pretended his golden heart isn't pounding so hard against his ribcage.
Lucifer laughs softly, gazing at the city of hell. “I wonder what would've happened if I didn't back out of my confession that day, she looked excited too..” he wonders.
“[y/n], can I please talk to you... Alone.” Lucifer nervously says as he looked at the female angel before him, he had to take a deep breath in hopes of his beating heart to calm down for a second or else he'll end up with a heart attack. “Oh? You needed me for something?” she asked him gently with a smile, he would've responded “I needed you in my life” if he had the confidence, “I just needed to talk to you, that's all.” He answered meekly and [y/n] was worried because he seemed nervous, she nodded and followed him to an area where there were no other angels.
“Is there something wrong?” [y/n] asked him softly, holding his hands. Her hands were soft against his own. He avoided her gaze and he could hear his heart thumping loudly in his chest. This is it. “I just wanted to tell you that...” he pauses, voice shaking. [Y/n] looked at him expectantly, “that I like you...” he continued and her eyes widened, her cheeks heating up slightly, her heart beating loudly too unknowingly to Lucifer but the poor man misunderstood her reaction and quickly panicked, “to be safe out there when you do your roundly checks on the Garden of eden.” he finishes quickly and nervously.
“I couldn't forget her reaction, she looked so disappointed.” Lucifer mutters with a sad chuckle as he remembers how her face fell in slight disappointment. He didn't know why back then and it took him years to realize that she wanted him to confess. “I am such an idiot, right?” he says and looks at the rubber duck beside him. No response.
Even though he regrets not confessing as he planned that day, even though a part of him wished the outcome was different. He would've been happy with [y/n] but part of him is thankful he didn't, because if he did, Charlotte wouldn't be here.
Speaking of Charlotte, he is now back to worrying for her. “I spent my time thinking about my past love when my daughter is up there talking to them!” he exclaimed, running his fingers through his blond hair. He hopes someone is kind enough to help his daughter up there.
Unknown to him, a certain angel he was just recalling is currently talking to his daughter up in the skies and showing her around.
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lovebugism · 6 months
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I love your writing <3 I saw “he so likes her” on the enemies to lovers but I so saw it pairing with the “me? I wouldn’t say I was flirting.” On the denial of feelings list. Eddie absolutely oblivious to the heart eyes he’s making as he pulls his hair in front of his face while chatting together
ty angel! hope you like it :D — eddie munson visits you at work every day, but not because he likes you (enemies to lovers-ish, fluff, 1.1k)
You hear Eddie before you see him. The clinking of his silver rings, the swishing of his leather jacket, the thudding of his worn sneakers. His musky cologne swaddles you in a cloud of his subtle scent before he’s even there. You’re smiling about it all before you mean to.
Crouched in the X-rated section of Family Video, you restock the vulgar printed tapes and glance up at the boy towering over you. Eddie’s smiling, too — perhaps bigger than he realizes.
“Don’t tell me you came all this way to keep me company, Munson,” you tease with narrowed eyes.
“No,” the boy scoffs, a little less than convincing. He props his shoulder against the metal shelf and crosses his arms over his chest. “I have much better things to do with my Friday nights. Trust me.”
Your knees creak in protest when you rise to stand before him. You cross your arms to resemble his stance and try to be normal about your forearms brushing his. “Do you?” you lilt, obviously sarcastic.
“Yeah,” he nods with a crooked smile on his pretty pink mouth. “I could give you their names.”
“Spare me,” you scoff, rolling your eyes and spinning on your heel. Eddie follows you like a lost puppy to the front counter. “You know, if you’re gonna flirt with me, maybe try not to mention other girls. I think that’s, like, rule number one.”
Eddie’s face swirls at your words. The cartoonish look of confusion makes you smile as you round the checkout station. He forces a chuckle and props his elbows on the countertop, leaning over it in a desperate attempt to be closer to you.
“There are no—” he starts, then cuts himself off. There are no other girls, he’d say if he weren’t a total coward. But, for the sake of keeping his cards to his chest, he settles on, “—I’m not flirting with you.”
Your brow arches in a playful look of inquiry. “No?”
Eddie almost caves, then. It’s almost like you want him to say yes — to admit that he’s been flirting with you this whole time because he’s loved you since the moment he met you. It would be the truth, anyway. One that he’s spent over a year shying from.
“No,” he echoes and shakes his wild head, surprising himself with his own self-control. “No, I’m— We’re just— We’re having a conversation. ‘Cause, you know, we’re friends. I guess.”
His face scrunches like there’s something sour on his tongue. He doesn’t even like the taste of his own words. 
You squint. “Do all of your friendly conversations typically include making heart eyes at the other person?” you joke with a poorly held-back grin.
Eddie falters for a moment, knowing he’s long been found out. He decides to lie anyway. Dig the hole deeper, as it were. “Yeah, actually,” he nods. “You’ve seen the way I look at Steve, haven’t you?”
You laugh before you mean to. The sunshine sound sputters up your throat and out of your mouth before you can stop it. Eddie must not realize how he often looks at Steve The Hair Harrington — with softly squinted eyes and gently furrowed brows — like he can never quite understand what the fuck the boy is talking about. 
“Right,” you nod, still giggling.
Eddie smiles at the pretty sound. The spearmint breath of your laughter fans across his cheek at the close proximity — one which neither of you seems eager to part from. “Yeah, so… Don’t let it go to your head, alright? There’s no flirting here.”
So you drove twenty minutes across town in a half-broken-down van to have a serious conversation? you’d ask if you felt like going around in circles.
Instead, you just nod. “Noted...”
“Now, tell me,” he starts, tilting his pretty head until his curls bunch at his shoulder. “What should me and my number of escapades watch for the evening? You know, as the resident expert and all?”
You laugh at the absurdity of his question. “I don’t know. Just— choose something,” you murmur unenthusiastically.
“I want you to choose for me,” he pouts.
“Why?” you retort, leaning against the counter to lessen the cavernous distance. 
The sudden closeness has a very obvious effect on the boy across from you. His adam’s apple bobs as his tongue darts across his bottom lip. You’re close enough to kiss now. He can almost taste you.
“So you can play it as background noise and think of me while you and this very fictitious person make out on your couch?”
“Well… I’ll probably be thinking about you either way, so…” Eddie answers when his senses return to him, shrugging with a stupid, lopsided grin. “Whether you recommend something or not doesn’t really matter.”
The look he gives you makes your stomach whirl. His eyes, made of melted chocolate, get all squishy at the edges when he looks at you. Something warm and fond swims in his gaze, speckles along his flushed cheeks, and sparkles in his smile. It’s so stupidly sincere for a boy who can’t seem to take anything seriously. The notion all but stabs you in the chest.
“You’re doing it again, you know?” you tease.
His fluffy brows pinch together. “Doing what?”
“The heart eyes thing.”
“There is no thing!” he insists with a loud, boyish laugh. “I’m just— I’m just looking at you! Is that a crime?”
“Just sayin’,” you singsong with an absentminded shrug.
Your gaze glimmers with knowing and something close to adoration as it flits up and down his form. Eddie squirms beneath your prying eyes. His ringed hands rise to his hair, gathering the untamed curls and hiding his blushing face behind them. 
“Here,” he mumbles behind his palms and chestnut locks. “Is this better for you?”
You giggle at his antics, slightly grieving his pretty face. “Much,” you nod despite yourself.
Steve and Robin watch the strange encounter from afar. They peer over the Action/Adventure aisle they’re supposed to be restocking — equal parts distracted and nosey. The boy’s scruffy face twists as he watches Eddie try hopelessly to flirt with you. “This is disgusting,” he murmurs under his breath.
“Do you think he knows?” Robin laughs, deep and gritty, as she stands on the tips of her toes to see over the metal shelf.
“Knows what?”
“That he’s obsessed with her?”
“Hell no! Look at him—” Steve scoffs, jutting his chin to the wild-haired boy across the room. 
Eddie’s got his rings all tangled in his hair now. His cheeks glow red as you help unknot the silver jewelry from his curls. He’s visibly embarrassed, but he can’t stop beaming at you. It’s borderline gag-worthy.
“—He’s got no fucking clue.”
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