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wannaeatramyeon · 17 hours

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Meeting Student!Gun Park for the First Time: Part 2

Please read Part 1 first! G/N. 4.6k. Remember when Gun wanted to get his GED? Well. Stranger to~ Masterlists

As far as first impressions go, yours went terribly. Gun can count on no hands the amount of people that have spoken to him like you did and lived to tell the tale.

Make no mistake, the sum total of which is zero. Zero spoke to him like that and lived to tell the tale.

It's like you have no manners and absolutely no sense of self-preservation.

But, he figures, he's finally doing his GED after the whole murderous stint and juvie and light dabbling in gang wars. Maiming a fellow classmate on the first day would leave an even worse first impression with the rest of the class than yours with him, therefore he should really try to behave himself.

Besides, he would never hear the end of it from Goo if he dropped out, or worse got kicked out, so he picked his battles and took your insults as best he could.

Somehow miraculously managed to hold back from reaching across the screen to give you a well deserved ass whooping when you asked him if he was on the verge of a mid-life crisis. He schooled his face and took a drag of his cigarette instead.

At least, if nothing else, you're entertaining.

You also reminded him that small talk was a thing when you asked what he liked to do for fun. He couldn't remember the last time anyone asked, if anyone even did, although you don't really make this sort of conversation in his line of work and it is hard for Gun to find time to make chit chat with someone as he's usually the one brutally assaulting them in a fight.

And he had such good intentions with enrolling in school again so why not tell you he likes gaming.

That's a perfectly Normal hobby, right?

Even as he says those words, they stick in his throat like he's confessing something shameful and it comes out strangled and strange.

He moves on to more familiar territory by reframing his bloodlust as training and martial arts, which also sounds very Normal to Gun's ears.

A few more things that he can barely remember are mentioned to present himself as a very Normal individual and he isn't embarrassed to admit to himself he's pleased with how this has gone.

After all, the majority of his working day is spent with Goo and Goo is, to put it politely, an unhinged dipshit, and their conversations usually also have that kind of vibe. Gun is aware enough to watch his tongue in this conversation with you, and the fact you haven't looked terrified or called the police can only work in his favour.

What piqued his curiosity most of all though, is your threat to kick his ass.

(On Tekken, but still.)

So much confidence in your own ability, so much faith in your skills.

(On Tekken, but still.)

Alas, that night he finds out it's misplaced and you have severely overestimated himself and/or underestimated him.

But still.

He remains curious about you.

You show absolutely no fear, no ulterior motive, no nothing, in the way you speak to him and seem to have latched on to him rather than anyone else in the class, and Gun is...

Charmed.

He finds you oddly endearing.

Then when he sees the back of your head as he makes his way into the classroom for the first time and decides to sit next to you, the way you blatantly check him out doesn't hurt either.

People ogling Gun isn't anything new, but what is new is how much he likes it from you.

He makes up his mind to keep his seat next to you. Even if your gaze does linger a moment too long on his hair and makes him wonder if he used enough gel on it when he styled it that morning.

And although you caught him doodling and insult his masterpieces repeatedly - you also balanced it out by helping him with Literature, which truth be told, he is extremely grateful for. He forgives your missteps and your teasing.

Over time, Gun finds that he likes your company. Traits that would be annoying as shit with other people he finds sweet with you, including your unrefined taste in coffee.

As a bonus, you also don't balk at the tidbits of his life he shares. In fact it should really be a little troubling how grey your morals are, how easily you take it in stride for someone that seems like a normal well-adjusted(ish) civilian.

All in all, this never happens. Ever.

Never has anyone held his attention like you do, and for him to test the waters like he has done.

Gun likes to think he has good judgement, takes very calculated risks. This, he decides, is worth pursuing. Exploring.

With not so much a leap of faith but maybe just a tiny hop, Gun opens up his home to you.

You think you're in love with Gun Park.

This realisation hits you at 5am, when you're lying in his bed and he has done the gentlemanly thing of taking the sofa. It hits you because only a few hours ago, he had pulled you into his lap, looked at you and held you so tenderly then didn't kiss you.

The fact that he hadn't kissed you, and you're in love with a very questionable person sends you into a mental crisis.

Fuck.

He's secretive enough, letting you in on various elements of his life and you manage to piece together that he can only be up to no good.

There's no shades of grey in his life, only copious amounts of crimson from bloodshed, and a twisted sense of morals and principles he lives by.

You know by now he hangs around far too much with someone called Goo, who sounds like the personification of a headache and annoys him to no end but also seems to be the only friend he has. Speaks too highly of a Charles that you know is shady despite never having met the guy. There's also an Eli that he mentions like he's the one that got away.

You can live with all of that and the questionable amount of hair product he uses.

What you are in fact struggling to get to grips with is:

This man lives in a junkyard. Like some kind of violent, sexy raccoon.

A voice in your head that sounds scarily like your mother, lectures you about prospects and picking a man with no future.

Well, for one - he's back in school.

See mom, you're wrong.

He also seems to do very well for himself despite literally living amongst trash (you handwave away his blood money and unscrupulous methods to earn said money) so that's another point for Gun.

And what sort of person, who lives between piles of scrap metal and discarded appliances, has such a luxurious bed.

You're sure the bedding thread count is in the thousands. Instead of researching the cure to cancer or how to travel faster than light, scientists have researched the comfiest mattress known to man and has created this that you're currently lying on.

So maybe this violent sexy raccoon is actually a prize.

Regardless.

You seem to have hitched yourself quite willingly to this wagon and now your biggest issue, that leaves you tossing and turning into the early hours of the morning, is still-

Why the fuck didn't he kiss you.

And how could he, after sharing such a sweet moment, push you off his lap and kick your ass on Tekken for 5 straight rounds.

What a bastard.

At some point you must have drifted off to sleep and you awake to the smell of deliciousness.

Something is being fried and you melt thinking your raccoon king is cooking breakfast for you. Who knew he was this sweet and thoughtful.

What is even better though, somewhat masked by the sizzling, is if you listen hard enough, you think Gun might even be humming. Even the perfect bed can't keep you from pressing your ear up against the bedroom door when you connect the dots that he is humming a popular K-Pop song that you have listened to on loop 50 times the week prior.

You yank open the door with force, "A-ha!" and point in his direction, gleeful at catching him doing something so un-Gun like.

Gun, in the middle of plating 2 omelettes, whips his head to you and stills, looking like a deer caught in headlights or a raccoon caught in headlights, rather.

You ask him, with a shit eating grin, if he's a big fan of the K-Pop group but it drops at his lack of reaction when he just shrugs and responds simply with a yes.

Damnit.

Of course you know it's not really anything to be ashamed of but it's so unexpected from Gun, that would it kill him to blush a little or act a little abashed? You expected something at least a little entertaining from his initial surprise, but you suppose anyone would act like that if a deranged house guest accosted them first thing in the morning after they so kindly made breakfast too.

As a consolation, after the let-down, you double take when you realise Gun had been cooking topless and remains topless this entire time.

In all his muscled glory. Pecs and abs and everything. Delicious broad shoulders and an enticing light trail of hair from below his belly button and stretching down, down, down into his sweatpants.

You gulp, trying to calm yourself down. You know you are staring so so obviously but you can't find it in yourself to look away.

Gun clears his throat as if to say my eyes are up here, and hands you a plate.

While you still have self control and before you outstay your welcome, you say bye to Gun after breakfast mentioning you have some errands to run.

It's a poor excuse but you didn't taste a bite of that omelette, brain too fixated on the man seated opposite and wondering if what he's hiding in his trousers matches the energy he gives off.

He offers to take you home and you insist on walking by yourself. You reason to yourself the fresh air after such a heady night and all the over excitement from this morning would do you good.

You say your goodbyes at his door, him leaning against the doorway, still unbearably tantalisingly shirtless and enough to distract you from the junkyard setting, with his arms folded and a smirk on his face as you stand there-

Standing and waiting and expecting.

You're pretty sure Gun wants to kiss you. There's a challenge in his eyes and you know he is teasing you.

The fact that you stared at him before like a slack-jawed moron also indicates full well what you would like him to do.

A goodbye kiss isn't too much to ask for (not that you're going to ask) but he continues to also lean and wait and smirk shirtlessly and god, this is the most awful hair-pulling frustrating game of chicken you have played.

For a moment you consider yanking him down and kissing him, hard and desperate, and making your way back inside to the most comfortable bed that has ever existed. For an even briefer moment you consider biting his pec and leaving a ring of teeth marks.

In the end, you can only muster "bye then," and to your dismay, your voice comes out whiny.

There's no hiding your disappointment.

Gun’s smirk grows wider at your tone and he relents and gives a peace offering in the form of a kiss on your cheek.

He pulls you into his body, arm wrapped around your waist and he dips down, grazes his lips featherlight to your cheek.

It's chaste. Impossibly tender and surprisingly sweet.

Damn.

You forget how to breathe and you feel like you're on fire as he murmurs bye into your ear. Later, you'll chastise yourself for letting Gun affect you like this with something so innocent.

You untangle from him and feel your legs wobble when you step off the porch and make your way back home.

Gun chuckles but you don't hear it.

You don't form a coherent thought again until that evening, when Gun beats you on Tekken and in a fit of rage and frustration, you finally break your controller.

To make things fair, Gun’s dislike of Literature is offset by how knowledgeable he is with Biology.

The human body, to be precise, and alarmingly so. Maybe serial killer levels of knowledge, with how much he knows about organs and muscles and tissues and everything in between.

He explains that it's useful for training, as if that's any explanation at all for his extensive knowledge. However, you've seen his body and heard enough about his past and yes, including his actual training, to realise that it does make sense in a way and you let it go.

Well.

Maybe you would have fought it a bit harder if you yourself was any good with biology but you're not. If he's great at it because he's a serial killer, then fortune favours the bold and you might as well take advantage of it.

Gun is a very very good teacher, which you did not predict and in a way you didn't expect.

His jaw is tense and the grip on the textbook tightens after you get the answer wrong for the 15th time and when you think he's about to whack you with said textbook, he closes his eyes and counts to ten.

When he opens them again, he tries another method with you. Then another. And another.

Truly, you did not think he had this sort of tolerance or patience.

He explains things simply and calmly (though you've noticed he has started to grit out his words). Unfortunately you still find all this theory hard to wrap your head around.

"Are you going to hit me?" You ask.

"Yes," Gun says though he doesn't. He looks more like he's going to ram his head through a wall. Neither happens and he continues to work through the textbook with you.

Hours later, it clicks.

You feel something of a genius even if Gun’s hair resembles a bird nest from the amount of time he has ran his fingers through in exasperation.

After finding out that you broke your controller, Gun buys you a new one immediately.

He's very generous and kind, you think, and it may be the first time in existence anyone has considered Gun as kind.

Until you realise he has other reasons for doing so.

That night, and for several nights after too, Gun is merciless when he KOs you. Each match is shorter than the previous.

You register this is payback for the biology stint. It's got to be.

Nevertheless, because you're the bigger person and you take the defeats on the chin, as thanks and in an almost mirror image of Gun repaying your Literature help, you suggest taking him out for a coffee.

Getting a coffee to-go and hand delivering it would be much easier, but you can't bring yourself to order an espresso for someone even if it is their drink of choice.

You take him to one of your favourite coffeehouses. Somewhere much less lavish than the one he frequents and much more agreeable to your meagre pockets although the coffee is just as good.

"Two espressos," Gun says at the counter.

"One," you cut in firmly, holding yourself back from gagging. If you have to pay for it, you won't be drinking that bitter sludge. You rattle off your usual: a monstrosity made with double-digit syrup pumps and whipped cream and Gun flinches in your periphery.

Despite your insistence, he beats you to the punch and pays for the order anyway. Not before adding a jab that your coffee, if you can even call it a coffee, is the worst thing he has ever had the misfortune to spend money on.

"Try it," you offer, when your drink is in your hand and Gun watches every sip with mounting horror.

"No," His mouth is pressed into a thin line and he looks like he has half a mind to knock the cup out of your hand. He refrains, clenches his knuckles and rests them on his knee.

He closes his eyes and counts to ten.

You watch him, heartily enjoying your sugary drink and sucking noisily on the straw. He twitches and starts counting from one again. You feel a surge of affection.

Without any other plans, both of you amble together through the quiet streets. You window-shop as Gun smokes next to you and attempts to buy everything that you set your eye on.

You tell him thanks but no thanks and continue to look at pretty trinkets and funky decor. In the glass reflection, you notice Gun fondly looking at you.

"Hi," you smile, turning towards him. He looks more handsome than ever in the sunlight. You don't even mind the amount of gel in his hair.

"Hey," he says, low and hushed. He steps towards you, leaving only a hairbreadth of air in between and tips your chin up to face him with his fingers.

You notice his pupils are blown wide, flickering down to your lips. Gun dips down at the same time you press up onto your tiptoes, and you feel his chest against yours, his other arm winding around your waist, breath fanning over your skin-

This is it, you think, finally.

This, sadly, is not it.

"GUN!" you hear a voice screeching. You both tear your attention from each other to the shrill noise.

A blonde guy in the loudest suit you have ever cast your eyes upon is waving manically in your direction.

"Do you know him?" you ask and Gun's lips are thinner than you have ever seen.

"No."

"GUN!" The blonde yells again and you raise an eyebrow at your companion.

His face looks pained as he tells you that is Goo Kim and when you ask if you both should go over and say hi, he snaps back absolutely not with a frown.

"Let's go," he says, lacing his fingers with yours and pulling you in the opposite direction. Behind you, you hear cackling and Gun hastens his footsteps as if being chased by a deranged spirit.

You don't see the blonde again for the rest of the day although Gun’s phone seems to be going off every other minute.

The moment you had is never quite recaptured. You can't bring yourself to mind too much though, as Gun never lets go of your hand.

And everytime he catches you smiling at your hand in his, he gives you a light squeeze and returns the smile.

If you thought school would be all cutesy and you would take turns in helping each other with topics you're stuck on, you're wrong.

Turns out, both you and Gun are equally bad at math.

You watch, face blank, at your screen as the teacher explains algebra. At least, you think that’s what the jumble of numbers and letters are because your ears refuse to make sense of the words.

You search the monitor for Gun to see how well he is faring and find him staring dead-eyed.

Not very, then.

In class, you see Gun's textbook with some attempt at notes in the margin before devolving into his lewd stick men doodles that he still insists are fighting stances.

"You shouldn't cover your page in smut. No wonder you're bad at this." You tease.

He doesn't look at you, doesn't rise to the bait. Simply rebukes, "Your book is blank and you're still shit."

"Asshole," you hiss and his dead eyed stare is replaced with a smirk.

As it happens, Gun can be very convincing when he wants to be.

A fellow student trails behind Gun in the library, and offers to help you and him out with your lack of mathematical comprehension.

You ignore that the student seems absolutely terrified and keeps giving fearful glances to Gun as he peers at them menacingly.

So what if the convincing involves some light threats of bodily harm or whatever Gun has so charmingly offered if that means you will pass. Didn’t you already establish that you have questionable morals? You’re too set in your ways and there's no point fighting it now.

Neither of you get any further after a few hours, and it doesn't help that the student gets more and more nervous each time you and Gun get a question wrong.

Explanations devolve into stammering and barely strung together sentences as if their life depends on you both understanding basic algebra.

They let out a petrified squeak when Gun snaps his fifth pen in half, noticing he has no more pens and may very well come for their neck.

Maybe he will.

"Leave." Gun commands, pinching his nose bridge when he realises this is futile and the student scarpers off.

"I hate this," You say, dejected, and you watch Gun close his eyes and quietly count to ten.

As it happens, Gun can be very resourceful too when he wants to be.

The following week, the teacher trails behind Gun to the library and offers to help you both out.

He seems equally afraid, eyes flickering over to Gun, and you choose not to focus on that, instead smiling brightly at his kindness.

The teacher, gripping the textbook white knuckled, breathes a sigh of relief hours later when both you and Gun start to answer the questions correctly and with accurate workings too.

In your mind, you have both learnt something and he has avoided an ass kicking so you're all winners here.

Nevermind the fact that Gun would have been the one handing out the ass kicking. There's no need to focus on such details.

From this distance, you find a figure chain smoking again. You’re now so familiar with his body language, with his mannerisms, that you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it’s Gun and clearly there’s also something playing on his mind.

He sucks a cigarette down to the filter and lights up another one immediately after.

You worry about the poor state of his lungs and if he looks like this when he’s only 20, then mid-life will actually hit him hard. His body must be running on fumes. He really should cut down on the cigarettes and the caffeine and get a better night's sleep instead of staying up all night gaming.

Not that you’re one to talk.

Perhaps it’s due to how he’s on alert for your presence like you are to him, his eyes snap to yours the moment you start to make your way over.

“You ok?” you ask and he gives you a funny look. It’s the same look whenever you express interest in his well being, or any general interest in him at all, and you think poor guy.

“Fine,” he responds, finishing off another cigarette and flicking it onto the floor.

And another thing, he really shouldn’t litter.

You don’t hesitate to tell him so, and as your tongue unravels, you start to also mention the smoking and his health and how you’re worried about him. Yes he clearly works out but all the cigarettes and lack of sleep will take a toll on him eventually.

Gun’s eyebrows climb into his hairline at your words. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you notice that what was supposed to come across as caring is very much coming across as a lecture though you can’t seem to stop.

As you begin to mention the obscene amount of gel he wears in his hair, his expression turns from bemused to sour and he cuts you off.

“You can nag me at mine over Tekken.”

“I’m not nagging-” you start, and then you abruptly stop as your brain kicks into gear and it sinks in that he has invited you over to his again.

Oh right. His.

The junkyard.

At some point, you’ve forgotten that you’re in love with the King of Raccoons. That this guy willingly lives in a shack in the middle of, what you can only politely describe as, garbage, and you wonder how your life has come to this.

Gun is patient as he waits for your answer and his eyes are warm. It doesn’t sway you though. You want to counter with No. Why don’t you come to mine then you remember his beautiful bed. Yes you’re getting ahead of yourself but if there’s a chance you get to experience it again, sure. You will come to his raccoon den.

You agree and he gives you the softest smile you have ever seen.

“Shit,” you say, crestfallen and hanging limply.

“Shouldn’t you be used to losing by now?” comes Gun’s voice and you want to bounce the controller off his head.

“Shut up.”

“Your combinations are weak and poorly timed. You don’t understand how to use your characters or their advantages and you have no idea how to counter my moves.”

As the killing blow to your ego and pride, he adds, "You won that time because I let you."

A part of you already knew that yet you still stare at him agape at his audacity. Sitting, manspreading, on his armchair while he casually assassinates your skills.

“I’m not wrong.” He says with a smirk.

“Shut up,” you repeat, standing up.

“I can train you.”

“Shut up,” you stalk over to him.

“Or what?” He sits back to look up at you as you hover over him. Chin lifted defiantly and his eyes daring.

“This,” you snap, gripping him by the front of his shirt and pulling him towards you. You’re sick of losing and you’re sick of waiting.

You clash your lips together and feel Gun exhale sharply in surprise at your actions. He tenses, for a split second, before he tugs you into his lap and your legs straddle his thighs. His hand reaches under your top, sliding their way across your skin as you grind down.

“Wait,” he murmurs, pulling away, lips glossy and gazing at you half-lidded.

He leans back to look at you properly, removing his hand as you subconsciously chase his touch, then with gentle hands, he cups your face and grazes his thumb over your cheek.

The TV screen illuminates his features, light reflecting in his eyes and you find something you only saw an inkling of during that first night, but has grown strong and steady since.

Gun looks at you like he did then - soft, like you might break. Holds you the same way he had done - tender and precious.

Only this time, there’s a steeled resolve in his face as he presses your bodies together, capturing your lips against his once more and you melt into his embrace. He’s much more gentle than you were but there’s a hunger and quiet desperation as his tongue swipes over your lips and slips in your mouth.

Your fingers run through his hair, and you’re pleasantly surprised to find it soft. All this time there wasn’t too much gel at all.

Gun wakes up the next morning with you drooling into his collar bone.

You wake up after the best night sleep of your life - wrapped in Gun’s arms and in the most comfortable bed known to man.

#you people have ground me down. i never intended a part 2. I WAS DONE #lookism #lookism x reader #gun park #gun park x reader #park jonggun x reader #park jonggun #wannaeatramyeon

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dmysterioblog · 2 days

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Prompt to a request (if it is okay) 🫶

Agatha and innocent fem reader+ corruption kink

Reader hasn't even had her first kiss and Agatha teaches her how to tongue kiss and so much more(fingering and magic strap)

Breeding kink as well plsss

Neighborly Desires

Paring: Dark!Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: You had recently moved into Westview. Your mother had passed away and you wanted a new start in a small town. Agatha was your neighbor there and she didn’t waste any time welcoming you into town. She thought you were so adorable and so innocent…she wanted to be the one to corrupt you. She needed to be patient, careful, and precise.

Warnings; dubcon, corruption kink, enchanted strap, fingering, mommy kink, cunnilingus (r receiving), breeding kink.

Word Count: 3.7k

A/n: This request has been sitting in my inbox since DECEMBER of 2023…I am extremely sorry but I hope this makes up for it. 😅

You had recently moved into Westview. Your mother had passed away and you wanted a new start in a small town. Agatha was your neighbor there and she didn’t waste any time welcoming you into town. She watched you struggle to carry the boxes back and forth from your car to your living room and grinned. You were wearing a cute little pink dress and she couldn’t help herself.

“Hiya hon! Do you need some help with that?” You heard a friendly voice from behind you. You swiftly turned around to look at the woman, almost dropping the boxes.

“Careful, there, sweetheart. We don’t want you hurting yourself,” Agatha chuckled, taking a box from you.

“T-thank you,” you blushed, slightly embarrassed at your clumsiness. She helped you put the boxes inside your house before turning towards you.

“I’m Agatha, your neighbor to the right,” she smiled at you kindly, stretching her hand out for you to shake.

“I’m Y/n,” you shook her hand, longer than intended, “And thank you so much for helping me with those boxes. Would you like something to drink?” You offered not knowing what else to say, fidgeting with your hands.

“Y/n...” she tasted your name on her tongue, “What a beautiful name for a beautiful girl. Tea would be wonderful.”

“Alright, just give me a second until I find my cups,” you chuckled nervously and disappeared into your kitchen. Agatha walked to your living room and sat down. She thought you were so adorable and so innocent…she wanted to be the one to corrupt you. She waited patiently for you to finish up, thinking of all the things she had planned for you.

“I’m so sorry! I completely forgot where I packed everything. I would forget my head if it wasn’t attached to my body,” you joked as you handed Agatha her tea.

“Thank you, hon,” she took a sip, “So, what brings you here?” She asked, curious on how a girl like you ended up in this shitty town.

“Well this was my mother’s home and she passed away a few weeks ago so decided to move in.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she held your hand, gently running her thumb over your knuckles.

“No, it’s okay. We weren’t really close and I wanted a new start.”

“Well if you ever need anything don’t hesitate to knock on my door, alright sweetheart?”

“Y-yeah,” you blushed at the nickname and she grinned. You two talked for a little while longer before you bid her goodbye and continued unpacking your things. Agatha walked home with a smirk on her face. You were too cute for your own good and she knew she was going to have fun with you. The fact that you were alone in this town was a bonus.

Days passed, and her visits became more frequent, her presence becoming very comforting. Somehow many things started to break inside your home and Agatha always seemed to be there to help. She was slowly gaining your trust and finding how truly innocent you were. You hadn’t even had your first kiss, how adorable could you possibly get? Yet beneath her warmth and sweet reassurances, a cunning plan took shape. She needed to be patient, careful, and precise.

Agatha now stood next to you in your kitchen. She had offered to help you cook dinner with the excuse she didn’t want you to eat all alone. She made sure to put her hands on your waist and press her front against your ass every time she walked past you. You, of course, didn’t think anything of this, too oblivious to think badly of Agatha’s touchy behavior. She couldn’t help but tease you a little more. She leaned in close to your ear and whispered.

“You’re doing great, sweetheart.”

“T-thank you…” you tried to hide your flushed face and she chuckled.

“Why don’t you go clean up while I make the table?” Agatha said as you were finishing up.

“Okay!” You obediently took your apron off and started walking to your bathroom to clean up.

“Good girl~,” she said under her breath but just loud enough for you to hear, making you flush once again.

You quickly went in, washed your hands, and fixed your hair. While you were in the bathroom, Agatha debated whether or not she should put a spell on you so she could take you right then and there but she wanted to take her time with you. By the time you walked out, Agatha had the table set up beautifully. There were candles and rose petals on the table. It was almost like a romantic dinner. How did she do this so quickly?

“Agatha, this looks beautiful.”

“Just like you,” she complimented you, booping your nose.

“Thank you, Aggie.” You recently started calling her that. Agatha didn’t seem to mind the newfound nickname, in fact, she loved it.

“Of course, darling.” She pulled out your chair and gestured for you to sit down. She was such a gentleman. You were completely oblivious to her true intentions.

You both sat down and ate dinner. Agatha asked you all kinds of questions, she wanted to know every little detail about you. What made you blush, what made you upset, what made you cry, what made you break. You answered all the questions, not thinking anything of it, and asked some yourself. You liked Agatha, more than you actually thought. God, you were so naive.

Eventually, you both finished eating dinner and she helped you clean the dishes. She always found a way to touch you even if it was just touching your hand when you passed her a plate or spoon to dry off. She saw the slight tint on your cheeks when she did.

"We should do this more often, don’t you think?” Agatha asked, her voice carrying a hint of something you couldn't quite place.

“I would love that!” You said happily. Agatha smiled, her eyes seemed to glint in the candlelight. After you were done doing the dishes Agatha started gathering her things to go home but you stopped her.

“Can you stay and watch a movie with me?” You asked, not wanting for her to leave yet.

“I think it’s a bit late, sweetheart,” she said, wanting to hear you beg for her to stay.

“Pretty please?” You grabbed her hands in your, caressing her knuckles with your thumbs, giving her your best puppy eyes. Agatha pretended to think about it, a sly smirk on her face. You were just so cute, how could she possibly say no to you?

“…fine, I’ll stay, but not too late. You need to go to bed soon, deal?”

“Deal!” you said, excitedly, pulling her towards your couch. She sat back while you picked the movie, settling for Rapunzel, it was your favorite comfort movie. After you started playing the movie, you sat next to Agatha, subconsciously snuggling to her side. She smiled as you snuggled against her. Her arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you closer to her.

“Is this your favorite movie, sweetheart?”

“Mhm!”

“Who’s your favorite character?” Agatha asked, combing through your hair.

“Mother Gothel,” you mumbled.

“Mother Gothel, huh?” she raised an eyebrow, “Why her? She’s the villain of the story.”

“I don’t know…” you frowned slightly, “I just like her character I guess…”

“Hmm. If I were Mother Gothel and I kidnapped you into my tower, what would you do?”

“I would never leave.” Agatha was very pleased with your answer and pulled you closer.

The movie went on and by the time it was over, you were fast asleep on Agatha’s shoulder. You looked so peaceful, so vulnerable, Agatha wanted to take you right then and there but no, she had to hold herself back. She picked you up and carried you to your bedroom, gently placing you on your bed. She tucked you in before leaning into your ear.

“You will be mine.” Was all she said before leaving to go back home.

—

Over the passing weeks you had gotten attached to Agatha, almost obsessively. Maybe it was her caring nature or your mommy issues coming to bite you in the ass. You were sitting on your couch with Agatha once again. She had picked the movie this time, telling you it was a surprise. She started playing the movie and you soon found out it was titled Carol. You had never seen it before but curled into Agatha’s side, wanting to feel her warmth.

The movie was good and all until the motel scene. Watching as Carol and Therese started kissing and touching each other made your core feel warm. Agatha noticed the way you were trying to hide your flushed face and how your thighs clenched together and smirked. She had you exactly where she wanted you.

“What’s wrong, baby? Are you cold?” she asked, pulling you closer, placing her hand on your thigh.

“I’m f-fine,” you stuttered out, unconvincing. She chuckled and gently started rubbing your thigh. Her touch was so warm and comforting, it made you want to melt against her. She moved even closer, cupping your face to make you look at her.

“You’re trembling, sweetheart. Are you sure you’re fine?”

“I-” you realized how close your faces were, noses almost touching, “Aggie-” she finally crashed her lips against yours. You closed your eyes, savoring how soft her lips were until you pulled away, looking away from her. She smirked at your reaction, enjoying how flustered you were. She gently turned your face to look at her again.

“Sweetheart? Did you not like it?”

“No! I loved it, it's just that…I don’t know how to kiss,” you said, embarrassed.

“Aw, sweetheart,” she cupped your face, “You’re so dumb and innocent you don’t even know how to kiss. How cute.”

“Wha-” She pressed her finger against your lips, shutting you up and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Just follow my lead. I promise you will love it,” you hesitantly nodded and she kissed you again, this time moving her lips against yours and you did the same. She poked her tongue between your lips and you opened your mouth to let her in. You did your best, following her lead and moving your lips and tongue like her. Agatha moved her hand to squeeze your thighs, sliding them closer to your soaked core making you squeal and pull away.

“Agatha I don’t think-”

“Shh,” she pulled you into her lap, your thighs on either side of her legs, “Let mommy do the thinking.” You frowned slightly at her comment but then she pressed her fingers against the wet patch on your panties, making you lose any train of thought you had.

“You’re so wet baby,” she started rubbing her fingers over your clothed clit, “Is that all for me?” she asked, her other hand gripping onto your hip.

“Hmph…” You unconsciously moved your hips against her hand.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” she commanded, pressing harder against your clit, the pressure sending a wave of pleasure through your body.

“Yes…”

“That’s a good girl.” She growled, moving your panties aside to touch your bare core directly, her fingers sliding between your folds. You gasped at the new feeling. You had never felt like this before. You’ve never touched yourself let alone have sex.

“So innocent…” She said before shoving two fingers inside of you. You were so tight, so warm, so wet for her. She pumped her fingers in and out of you, rubbing your clit with her thumb.

“Such a good girl for mommy.” She praised you.

“Aggie-” you clung to her, wrapping your arms around her neck while she worked on fucking your with her fingers. Her other hand started to sneak under the thin dress you were wearing, finding that you weren’t wearing a bra at all.

“Not wearing a bra?” she pinched your nipple, “What a naughty girl…” You whimpered in response, making her chuckle. She pinched your nipple again, she started biting your neck leaving a trail of marks on your skin. She added a third finger, her thumb circling your clit faster than before and then suddenly stopped.

“Why’d you stop?” You whined desperately.

“Such a needy girl,” she picked you up like you weighed nothing and carried you upstairs like she had done before. She took you to your bedroom and sat you on your bed.

She took your dress off, throwing it elsewhere and started undressing as well. She took off her pants to reveal the enchanted strap she had been wearing. She took off her pants to reveal the enchanted strap she had been wearing. She smirked as she looked at your surprised expression.

“Like what you see, darling?” She pushed you back against the bed and climbed on top of you, your legs wrapped around her waist.

“W-wait-” You started to hesitate.

“Shh, it’s okay baby.” She gently caressed your cheek, looking into your eyes with a soft expression. Her strap was pressing against your core and she started rubbing it against you.

“It’s going to feel so good,” she pressed the tip of the strap into your entrance, “I’ll be gentle, okay?” You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded your head.

She slowly pushed the strap further inside your warm wall, watching as your mouth made an ‘o’ shape and your brows frowned in pleasure. She let out a low groan as the strap went further inside, your pussy greedily clenching around it. Her eyes roaming over your body, watching every little expression you made.

“That’s it, baby… you’re doing so good. You’re taking me so well,” she said most out of breath.

“M-mommy-” She almost lost the little control she had left when you finally called her mommy, feeling a rush of pleasure run through her body. God she was going to finally make you hers. Agatha’s grip on your hips tightened as she began to thrust into you, slowly at first, making sure you were comfortable and enjoying it.

“Oh, you like calling me that don’t you, darling?” She grunted.

“Mhm!” You nodded your head. She smirked and began to pick up the pace, thrusting faster and harder into you. She leaned down and began kissing your neck, leaving more marks as she went. Her hands roamed over your body, squeezing and pinching every inch of your skin.

“Such a good girl, taking mommy’s strap so well…you’re mine.” Agatha finally said out loud. She continued to ramble on, as she thrusted into you. She grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head, making you completely helpless beneath her.

“No one else gets to see you like this. You’re all mine. Fuck- I’m never letting you go.” Your brain had turned to mush and all you could do was chant a bunch of yeses as she snapped her hips at a brutal pace. Agatha loved how incoherent you were becoming. She loved how easily she could reduce you to a moaning mess. She began to talk to you in a soft voice, praising and mocking you at the same time.

“Look at you. Such a babbling mess. Mommy’s little dumb slut. Isn’t that right? All mine?”

“Yes! All yours!” Your voice trembled as you got closer to the edge, your orgasm building up.

“That’s right,” she moved one of her hands from your wrists to your clit, rubbing it in fast circles, “You’re all mine, and you’re going to cum for me, aren’t you?”

You tried to reply but instead let out a loud sob, tears running down your rosy cheeks from the pleasure you felt. Agatha leaned down and kissed your tears away, her movements becoming more frantic as she chased your release.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me. Be a good little slut and cum for mommy.”

Your eyes rolled back and your mouth opened in a silent scream as you fell apart. Agatha moaned as she felt your walls clench around her, sloppily helping you ride out your orgasm as best as she could as she held onto your trembling legs.

“Fuck- I’m going to fill you up nice and full of my cum, baby, you’re going to be all mine.” She came, moaning loudly as she spilled her hot seed deep inside you. She gave you a few more thrust before pulling out, making you whine in protest at how empty you felt. Her hand on your wrists loosened and she looked down at you with a satisfied smirk on her face.

“There we go…Good girl. You did so well for me, baby. So perfect,” she started kissing down your body, “Now mommy’s gonna clean you up…” She finally let go of your wrist, putting your legs together and bending them against your chest, your pussy now completely exposed to her. She used her fingers to spread your pussy lips apart. She watched as her cum leaked out of you and almost moaned at the sight.

“God look at how messy you are…” she leaned down and ran her tongue over your entrance, licking up her own cum. She lapped at your sensitive core, moaning at the taste of the two of you combined, “You taste so good, baby.”

You squirmed against her mouth, your pussy already too sensitive. Agatha chuckled and wrapped her arms around your thighs, holding you in place as she continued to eat you out. She was going to make sure you were completely clean.

“Stay still, honey. Mommy’s not done with you yet.”

“But it h-hurts-” She looked up at you with a mocking expression.

“I know it hurts, baby. That’s why you’re going to be a good girl and take it, isn’t that right?”

She nipped at your inner thigh before diving back down between your legs. You reluctantly nodded, letting her lap over your puffy folds and sucking on your clit. She moaned against your clit, enjoying the taste of your juices. She swirled her tongue around it before sucking on it again, pulling it into her mouth and teasing it with her teeth.

“Mmmm…there we go,” she kissed your clit before letting go of your legs, “All done.” She pulled you into a kiss, shoving her tongue in your mouth, making you taste yourself. You whined against her lips, finding it hard to keep up. She just chuckled and pulled away.

“Come on, baby. Let’s give you a bath.” She started picking and you absolutely melted into her. She set you on the bathroom counter while she filled the bath. You simply watched her as she put bubbles in the bath and made sure the water was at a good temperature.

Once the bath was ready, she gently picked you up and lowered you into the warm water. She sat behind you, letting you lean against her chest. She began washing your body with a soft washcloth, making sure to be extra gentle with you. When she got close to your core, you stiffened slightly, still sensitive from your orgasm and her tongue. She chuckled softly, noticing your reaction.

“Aww, is my baby still sensitive?” She pressed her fingers against your clit. You tried to swat her hand away and clench your thighs together but she took your wrist and held them against your chest while using her own legs to keep yours open.

“Just give mommy one more orgasm and we’ll be all done, okay?” She said, already playing with your clit, rubbing it in small circles.

“It hurts mommy…” you mumbled, hiding your face in the crook of her neck.

“I know it hurts, baby. But you can do it,” she continued to tease your clit, rubbing it faster and harder, “Don’t you want to make mommy proud?”

“Y-yes-” she smiled and rewarded you by letting go of your wrist and wrapping her free hand around your throat, gently squeezing it.

“That’s my good girl. Keep being good for mommy and I’ll make you feel so good, okay?” The pain finally turned into pleasure and your body pathetically melted to Agatha’s once again. Her grip on your throat tightened slightly making you light headed.

“You’re so cute when you’re like this, darling. All weak and pathetic. You’re mine to use however I want, aren’t you?” She slipped two fingers inside you, making you mewl like a dog in heat.

“I’m close!” You moaned as she nibbled on your earlobe before whispering in your ear.

“Good. Come for me, baby. Come for mommy one more time and I’ll let you rest.” Your hands clung to the hand that was still tightly wrapped around your neck for dear life as you came again. Agatha grinned, loving the way you clung to her like she was the only thing keeping you alive. How pathetic and adorable.

She kept her hand around your neck, slowly applying pressure as you came. Once you came down from your high, she loosened her grip and rubbed your neck softly, admiring the redness she left behind.

“That’s my girl. I’m so proud of you,” she soothed you, combing through your wet hair until the water in the bath became cold. She got out first, getting a towel for you before helping you out.

She gently wrapped you the towel, setting you down on the counter once again to brush the knots out of your hair. made quick work of brushing your hair, making sure it was all tangle free. Once she was done, she wrapped the towel around you tighter and lifted you, cradling you in her arms like a small child.

“It’s time to go to sleep, my sweet girl. You must be so tired huh?” she sat you down in the bed while she went to get you some pj. She made sure to be quick noticing how droopy your eyes looked. She came back a moment later with some soft, silk pajamas for you. She gently dressed you in them before tucking you into bed, pulling the blankets up to your chin.

“Comfortable, Angel?”

“Aren’t you going to stay, Aggie?” Agatha smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

“Of course, I am, darling. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“You promise?” She leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I promise, sweetheart. You’re mine, I’m not going anywhere. Now get some sleep.”

#fanfic #smut #x reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness #agatha x reader #agatha all along #dark!agatha

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dollieseo · 2 days

Text

TELL ME THAT YOU LOVE ME AGAIN.

SYNOPSIS. you unintentionally became close to ning yizhuo as trainees. she made it into aespa, you didn’t. after you left sm and debuted with le sserafim, the desire to reconnect is heavy, but it’s not as easy as it sounds.

FEATURING. ningning x le sserafim 6th member reader

WARNINGS. none, maybe a little angsty tho idk

AUTHORS NOTE. first fic hello!! inspired by this song

WORD COUNT. 2.4k

you came to sm entertainment with the sole purpose of becoming an idol. it’s all you’ve ever wanted since you were eight years old. it wasn’t to make friends or build relationships; you wanted to work.

you kept to yourself during your trainee period, never really getting close to anyone. the trainee system was a twisted game and one small mistake could get you sent home. you’ve seen it happen with other trainees who were friends. one would be let go and the other left without their other half. you didn’t want any of that to get in the way of your goal.

ning yizhuo joined the company a year after you did. she was young, only a year younger than you. you remember the first time you officially met her in the practice room, which was completely by accident by the way.

as you walked through the company halls, going to your reserved practice time, you could faintly hear music playing from the practice room, which you found odd. you decided to slowly crack the door open to peek through and saw the younger girl practicing the choreography to into the new world. you know that she was new, maybe two weeks in? it makes sense that she wouldn’t know about your routine. you debated on just leaving and finding a different room, but decide against it.

as soon and you fully entered the practice room she seemed to take notice, jumping in surprise and instantly turning to greet you. you watched as she rushed to turn the music off, it was a little comedic. she hesitantly walked towards you, not really knowing what to say. you could sense the confusion on her face.

“this is my usual rehearsal time here,” you begin, and before yizhuo can spew out apologies, you continue, “it’s okay, you didn’t know.”

“i’m sorry, i can leave,” she managed, looking down at the floor. you feel a little bad, figuring she was probably embarrassed. you sigh, “no, it’s okay,”

‘what the fuck are you doing?’

“you’re practicing into the new world, right?”

she nods.

“we can practice together.” you decide. her face lights up, eyes gleaming, but you instantly regret you words. normally, you prefer practicing alone and being the only person to see the process of fixing your flaws and improving. but going by her reaction she probably wouldn’t think to judge you on anything.

“really?” she asks and you nod, walking towards the speaker to turn the music back on. “come on.”

you and yizhuo spend the next few hours practicing (more like you spend most of the time practicing while she stands there watching, admiring your movements). you were a dancer long before you joined sm, so you ended up helping her with the choreography after seeing her struggle, giving her tips and pointers to help her improve. you thought it was cute how intensely she took in your every word, mentally taking note of every detail you told her.

since that day she insisted on sticking with you. as much as you internally protested, you didn’t do much to keep her away. how could you? she was, what, barely 14? and she was new to the industry. even though you were only a year older than her, you didn’t have the heart to leave her on her own.

the two of you grew close unexpectedly fast, practicing together whenever you didn’t have individual lessons, spending hours in the practice room sometimes not even doing anything, just sitting against the mirrors and having random conversations that ended with both of you in tears from laughing so hard. as time went on, it became relatively known around the company that the two of you were a duo, not one left without the other.

as much as you like yizhuo, or ningning as she would be called after being introduced as an sm rookie, you always curse yourself thinking back to your previous views on building relationships as a trainee. you still have that opinion, but even as the two of you grew up you can’t bring yourself to stay away from her. you don’t want to.

after about four years together, the time came for sm’s newest girl group to be officially formed. for the last few months the company played with lineup, adding and removing girls almost every few weeks. you and ningning were apart of the group of girls considered for the final lineup, along with yu jimin and kim minjeong.

after what felt like an eternity of uncertainty, the company finally announced who would be in the final lineup. many were sure that you would be included, being an sm rookie who ranked highly at monthly evaluations. you were confident too.

however, while you all were practicing, a staff member brought in another girl and asked you to come out. you recognized her as uchinaga aeri, who only joined the company a few months ago. you looked around skeptically, but followed the staff member out of the room and into the hallway.

honestly, you can’t really recall everything that was said to you. all you remember is something along the lines of your removal and the world falling silent. everything stopped in that moment and you wondered if you were dreaming. you didn’t want to believe it but the somber look on the staff’s face solidified it for you.

you didn’t make it.

that day, you left practice early. yizhuo, along with jimin, minjeong, and aeri had to stay later to practice for their debut. before you left, you stopped to give yizhuo a hug, reassuring and congratulating her. you could tell that she was having mixed emotions. she was happy to debut but she wanted to do it with you. though her face was buried into your shoulder, you heard her mutter a ‘i’ll see you later,’ before letting go.

she didn’t expect to see your side of the room empty when she came back to the dorms that night. all of your belongings; polaroids on the wall, your comforter that she preferred sleeping on more than her own, everything you had was gone. and you didn’t even tell her.

you joined source music about two years later, being added to their debut team almost instantly along with two former iz*one members, sakura and chaewon, and huh yunjin, who you recognized from produce 48 and swore you’ve seen around the sm building a few times. kazuha and eunchae joined not too long after you did, and at first you were a bit threatened by their addition. you feared that they were your replacements and that it’d only be a matter of time before you’d be cut from the group.

however, the six of you worked amazingly together, and after getting over the initial doubt, got along great. you all had that balance of being genuine friends and colleagues. you finally felt like things were going your way.

the success of le sserafim’s debut was massive, some mixed reviews about the title track, but the album sold well and you guys got a few music show wins, which you never would’ve imagined for your debut.

as time went on, your career only went up. you attended award shows, held concerts, had fans. you were living your dream, and although you never expected it to be with these girls, you were happy nonetheless.

you thought about ningning a lot. it was hard not to, now that you were an idol. le sserafim and aespa were always in the same conversation when it came to top 4th generation girl groups. you felt indifferent about it. you wanted to move on from the past, but you were also glad that both of you were able to achieve your dreams, even if it wasn’t together.

you don’t get many days off being in the prime of your career, which you’ve always expected. today though, as comeback promotions for unforgiven came to an end, you hoped to spend today laying in bed and watching netflix, allowing your body to reset from such a hectic schedule.

keyword: hoped.

the sound of your phone ringing makes you dramatically groan. silently hoping it wasn’t anyone important you glance at your phone to see an unsaved phone number. normally, you’re told not to answer calls from unknown numbers, the main reason being that it’ll most likely be a sasaeng. but you recognize this number, even though it isn’t saved in your phone.

“hello?”

“unnie.”

you’ve played a thousand different scenarios in your head, thinking of what to say in any situation where you would see yizhuo again. yet when that time finally came, all of your hypotheticals went completely out the window. you didn’t think her calling you would be that first interaction in three years.

“how’d you get my number?” is what you decide to say. you changed your number after leaving sm, but you still remembered hers.

“minjeong unnie gave it to me,” she answered. you internally curse, figuring she got your number from chaewon. it’s not like you’re mad or upset that she called, you just weren’t expecting it nor were you prepared for it.

“can you come over to the dorms? i wanna talk to you.” yizhuo asks.

“we’re talking right now,” you play dumb. again, you’re not prepared for this.

“i mean in person, unnie.”

you think about giving her the excuse of being busy, you should give her that excuse. but you don’t know when you’ll both be free to talk again. you want to take that opportunity.

“okay,” you decide.

your arrival to aespa’s dorm surprises all of the members. jimin, who answers the door, instantly wraps you in a hug and aeri and minjeong, who were sitting on the couch jump up to do the same the moment they see you.

you tell them that yizhuo invited you over and jimin lets you know that she’s in their room. you thank her and head over, giving the cracked door two light knocks before fully opening it.

you’ve seen her around and on tv this past year so it wasn’t like you really haven’t seen her in three years, but your breath still hitches when you lay eyes on her. when she sees you, she smiles widely. it reminds you of when you two were trainees.

“you came!”

you snorted, “did you think i wasn’t?” you gently close the door behind you before crossing your arms and slowly walking towards her bed where she was sitting.

“you could’ve,” she shrugs. “considering you left without telling me, you could’ve not come and not told me.”

you sigh and sit down next to her. “i’m sorry.”

that day, and the many days following, hurt. it hurt you to feel like you spent so much time working hard just to fail. you didn’t think it would hurt yizhuo nearly as much. you didn’t think about how much she missed you or how long she spent crying after realizing you had left.

the room falls silent, both of you unsure of what else to say to each other. there’s a million things you two could talk about but neither of you do, afraid of rehashing more bad memories. instead you make yourself comfortable and lie back, resting you hand on your stomach. yizhuo does the same and the silence becomes comfortable, both of you cherishing this moment; being together again.

“i was in love with you, you know.” you decide to casually let out, hiding the nervousness in your voice. you’re scared of how she’ll respond. she could laugh in your face, or just straight up reject you, even though you weren’t exactly confessing, and make things awkward again.

but yizhuo does the opposite of what you were expecting.

“you were?” she suddenly sits up and locks eyes with you. you think she looks like a doll with her eyes wide and her mouth slightly agape. you take a moment to admire her while she takes that moment to fully comprehend what you said. her mouth closes and her eyes furrow at her realization. “was,” she repeats, tilting her head. “you’re not anymore?” her voice goes quiet, as if she’s scared to ask. maybe she was, but why?

“not really,” you glance at her before looking back towards the ceiling. you don’t want to see her reaction, though you can feel her entire body deject into the bed and hear her mumble a small ‘oh’.

“why not?”

“hm?”

“why don’t you love me anymore?”

“i don’t know if you noticed, yizhuo, but i’ve been avoiding you since you debuted. kinda hard to keep feelings for someone you don’t see anymore.” it seems harsh but you hope your light hearted tone doesn’t make it sound that way.

“you didn’t have to avoid me. i would still been your friend─”

“it wasn’t about you,” you interrupt, sighing before finally sitting up to fully face her. “i was pissed and jealous and seeing you on tv would’ve only made me hate you. i don’t want to hate you.”

even after you debuted in le sserafim you tried to avoid her, and all of aespa for that matter. it was nothing against the girls but you couldn’t help the bitterness that filled you when you thought about the fact that you didn’t make the lineup.

you figured she’d have more to say after you revealed the truth, but nothing came out of her mouth. you could only read the disappointment on her face.

“what, were you expecting something different?” you ask after a long period of uncomfortable silence.

“i was hoping you’d say that you still love me,” she reveals, opting to look at her hands placed in her lap rather than at you.

“why?” you already know the answer. you just want to hear her say it.

“because i loved you,” she pauses, “and i never stopped.”

oh.

you should’ve known that something like this would happen, and maybe you did. maybe there was a rational part of your brain screaming at you not to go see her and you just didn’t listen. maybe deep down you still loved her, but the fear of losing again repressed that love. yizhuo or your career? you don’t know. the idol industry is a twisted game where one small mistake could cost you your entire career and if you have to lose one, you figure that losing the chance of loving her is better than losing the career you both worked years for.

“i’m sorry, yizhuo.” you whisper. it’s all you can muster up to say. you tell yourself that it’s better this way. sure, she’s hurt now but she’ll get over it. just like you did, or at least pretended to.

#aespa x reader #aespa #ningning #ning yizhuo #ningning x reader #aespa ning yizhuo #aespa ningning #ning yizhuo x reader #aespa fic #fem reader #kpop #kpop fic #gxg #wlw

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barcaatthemoon · 2 days

Text

sex with my ex || claudia pina x reader ||

You hook up with your ex-girlfriend after playing a game against her.

MINORS DNI, 18+, Smut.

You rushed your way through your post-match routine. Claudia was waiting for you in the player parking lot. You wondered what excuses she gave her teammates about why she was skipping out on the winning celebrations. For the most part, they all liked you, even if they didn't approve of you and Claudia constantly going back to each other.

Your own teammates weren't nearly as fond of Claudia, but they had only ever known her as a opponent. You couldn't really blame them. A few of them were terrified that you'd eventually go back to playing for Barcelona just to be closer to Claudia again. Despite being broken up, you were very into her.

"Took you long enough," Claudia teased. You paused at the sight of her leaning against the hood of her car. She looked amazing. You hadn't seen her pre-game outfit, but it was definitely picked specifically for you. Claudia knew how much you loved seeing her arms on display, and there wasn't a doubt in your mind that she was flexing even as she pulled you in for a kiss.

"Oh please, like you weren't hoping I'd take a long time so you could plan your pose," you shot back. Claudia put her hands up in surrender and made no attempt to argue. "Take me back to your place?"

"Of course. I've got a couple new toys for us to try out," Claudia told you. She watched your reaction closely, noting when your eyes lit up at the mention of something new. Claudia knew all of the things you liked, and despite how casual she liked to play things with you, she hated the very idea of disappointing you.

"And why are we still here then?" Claudia opened up the passenger's side door for you. It was pretty hard to keep your hands off of each other as you made your way back to her apartment from the stadium. Claudia kept one hand on your thigh as she drove, occasionally letting her fingers trace little patterns on your skin. At first it seemed random, but then you realized that she was spelling out some of the things she wanted to do to you.

Your heart rate spiked with excitement at the prospect of such a long night with Claudia. You'd be gone in the morning back to your own city hours away. The two of you had to make the most of your night together, and you didn't doubt that Claudia would be more than capable of doing so. Even after playing for almost an entire game, the smaller woman always seemed to have an endless supply of energy when it came to the bedroom.

You and Claudia couldn't keep your hands off of each other once you were outside of the car. There was absoutely no shame as the two of you made out in the elevator. Claudia's hands roamed all over your body, touching every bit of you that she could. The two of you were so engrossed in each other that you nearly didn't make it out of the elevator on Claudia's floor.

"Take it all off, everything," Claudia ordered. You loved it whenever she took charge with you. She had been a lot more passive during your relationship, but now she was a force to be reckoned with. You could see how taking on more leadership in the team bled over into her everyday confidence, and you were lucky that you only saw Claudia on occasion because now you found her irresistable.

Claudia watched you like a hawk as you undressed yourself. Claudia shed a few pieces of clothing as she pushed you towards the bedroom, both of you leaving a trail in your wake. Claudia didn't seem to care at all about any sort of mess, only wanting you naked and in her arms as she crossed the into the threshold of her bedroom.

"On the bed, before I do anything for you, I want you to do something for me," Claudia said. You knew what she wanted as soon as she went towards her closet. Claudia returned with a decently sized box. You recognized the strap around her waist, but there was no toy attached to it. Claudia rummaged around in the box and pulled out a pair of handcuffs, a vibrating wand, and a new dildo that you hadn't seen before.

"All for me? You shouldn't have," you teased. Claudia didn't react to your comment at all, instead leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. There was something about the act that made your spine feel a bit tingly. She grabbed your hands and cuffed them together, before she tossed the vibrator to the side. "I'm not sure that will fit in my mouth."

"It's not for your mouth," Claudia said as she attached the dildo to the harness. It was thicker than what you were used to, but not necessarily longer. Claudia had obviously spent a lot of time searching for this. She knew that you would much rather been stretched to your limits than endure a game of seeing how far into you Claudia could fuck. You had learned the hard way that your insides bruised much easier than you did on the outside.

You let out a little yelp as Claudia pulled you closer. With the way that she stood over you, you could see just how wet she was. Claudia glanced down as you licked your lips, and both of you seemed to act on the same wavelength. Claudia moved forward to kneel on the bed as you craned your neck up to meet her.

More of Claudia's weight shifted onto the bed as she fell forward. You had expected her to begin eating you out as well, but Claudia seemed to have other ideas. You felt the wand between your legs at the same moment she flicked it on. The vibrations were intense, and you squirmed beneath her trying to ease away from it.

"No, stay still. I'll let this first one be fast, but you'll have to earn the others," Claudia told you. You felt your stomach drop at her words. You knew that you had until Claudia had cum, and despite the intensity of the vibrations against your cunt, you weren't sure that you could get off that quickly.

Above you, Claudia was close. You could tell by the way she rocked her hips back and forth against your togue. She couldn't stand for any bit of that contact to let up, not until she was finished. You could feel a subtle ache in your jaw, but you persisted, moving your mouth and tongue until Claudia's cum coated the lower part of your face.

"You're so fucking good at that. I love the way you eat me out," Claudia complimented. Your cheeks were practically burning from her words. Any sort of praise from Claudia always seemed to go straight between your legs, and this was no exception. Claudia bit her lip as she watched your cunt clench around nothing. "Do you want a reward?"

"Please," you whined. You were past the point of caring how desperate you sounded. The moment Claudia had withdrawn from you, so did the vibrations. She knew how to work you up to the brink, and despite you doing everything you could for her, she hadn't given you the first easy orgasm you had been hoping for.

Claudia's fingers stayed practically glued to your entrance as she teased you. You knew that she liked the feeling of your arousal coating her fingers. She'd play with you a little more until you were dripping onto the sheets beneath your bodies. The subtle stretch of two fingers wasn't going to be enough, so Claudia eased you into three and then four.

"Fuck, this is gonna be a tight fit," Claudia swore. You felt her fingers pull out, and you whimpered at the sudden feeling of emptiness before you felt the tip glide through your folds. Claudia was careful in easing her way in, watching your face for any signs of genuine pain. Claudia knew that you liked the hurt that came with using bigger toys, but that didn't stop her from worrying about crossing some invisble line with your pain tolerance.

"Clau, please. I need more," you told her. Claudia eased herself the rest of the way in and leaned forward to press her forehead against yours. The starting thrusts were slow and shallow, but soon, Claudia found her rhythm. You wanted to reach out for her, but you couldn't. The best you could do with your hands bound was grabbing onto one of the loose straps on the harness. You weren't sure which it was, but you could feel the dildo inside of you move with each little tug on it you gave.

Claudia could without a doubt feel what you were doing, but she let it continue. Your eyes were practically rolling back in your head as Claudia fucked you through your first orgasm. You kept a hold on the strap, moving it for her whenever Claudia had decided to give you a little rest. You kept the toy moving inside of yourself until Claudia pried your hands away and pulled out of you.

"Shh," Claudia shushed you as you began to protest and whine. You tried to sit up the best you could, but with your hands bound, it was a bit difficult. Claudia placed her hands on your chest and held you down as her thigh slotted between your legs. "Lay back, relax, and let me finish. I won't leave you like this, you know that baby."

"Sorry," you apologized. Claudia gave you a quick kiss before she settled back in between your legs. This time, you were rewarded greatly with her tongue. You didn't need anything other than her tongue flicking gently against your clit, coaxing your second orgasm out of you. The build up for this one was greater than your first, and you came hard on Claudia's mouth. Her sheets were a mess, but Claudia simply moved you to lay in a different spot as she started the shower up.

"How are your legs?" Claudia asked as she sat down on the bed next to you. The strap had been discarded completely, and her toys were all set aside to be washed. "Can you make it to the shower on your own?"

"They feel like they've just played a full 90 and then some, but yeah, I can make it to the shower. Will you be joining me?" you asked her. Claudia shook her head as she motioned towards the sheets and toys. "Will you be here when I get out of the shower?"

"I'll be here long enough to take you back to your hotel. I've got a team dinner to get ready for," Claudia told you. It definitely wasn't what you wanted to hear, but if it wasn't for the clear cut lines you had drawn when you broke up, you'd be dating again. Things weren't bad between the two of you, but with all of the outside influences on your relationship, it wasn't good. You wished that things could be different, but you doubted that Claudia would give you another real chance in a long time.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso smut #claudia pina imagine #claudia pina x reader #claudia pina smut

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urdreamydoodles · 14 hours

Note

Hello!!! I just found your page and yes I already I love your work!!

If it’s no trouble, may I ask for X-men characters with a Pregnant s/o headcanons? Like how they would be when you tell them you’re pregnant, how they are when you’re pregnant, and how they’d be during labor! 😵‍💫😵‍💫

Could I also ask it be with: Logan, Scott, Gambit, Ororo, Colossus, and Kurt??

If not it’s totally okay! Have a great rest of your day 💖💖

X-Men x Pregnant!Reader

How they handle your pregnancy

Each X-Man reacts differently to your pregnancy, from initial surprise and joy to unwavering support during labor, reflecting their unique personalities and love for you.

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Scott Summers, Ororo Munroe, Kurt Wagner, Colossus (+ my personal addition : Erik Lehnsherr, Wade Wilson, Wanda Maximoff & Pietro Maximoff)

Thank you for saying that, hearing that my work is liked makes me really happy, thank you ♡ And it's not a trouble at all — love the prompt! — Love, Marie, your friendly marvel fangirl

Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

When you tell Logan you’re pregnant, his initial reaction is a mix of shock and silence. For a moment, he’s frozen in place, his gruff exterior cracking just enough to reveal how truly taken aback he is by the news. He’s been through so much, lost so many people, and had so many regrets in his life that the thought of bringing a child into this world overwhelms him. But after a long, quiet moment, his eyes soften, and he gently places a hand on your stomach, the roughness of his calloused palm contrasting with the tenderness in his gesture. His voice, usually gruff and low, is quiet when he says, "I’ll protect both of ya… no matter what."

During your pregnancy, Logan becomes fiercely protective. He’s always been the protective type, but now it’s ramped up to an entirely different level. He doesn’t let you do anything that might risk your health or the baby’s, even if it’s something small like lifting a grocery bag. He makes sure you’re comfortable, constantly checking in with you—though he tries to act like he’s not worried. You often catch him watching you, eyes filled with a mix of awe and uncertainty. He tries not to hover, but you can see how much he cares. The moment you’re uncomfortable, he’s there, ready to do anything to help. His biggest fear, though he never outright says it, is that something will happen to you or the baby, so he keeps an almost obsessive eye on both of your well-being.

When labor begins, Logan is a mess of emotions. He’s usually the calm in any storm, but seeing you in pain makes him feel helpless in a way he’s not used to. He holds your hand, trying to keep you calm, though his own heart races. "I’m here, darlin’. You’re strong. You got this," he murmurs, pressing kisses to your forehead, staying close, trying to mask his own panic. When the baby finally comes, and he hears that first cry, tears fill his eyes. He never thought he could experience something so beautiful and terrifying at the same time. Logan would quietly hold the baby, marveling at the tiny life you both created, knowing he’s going to protect this child with everything he has.

Remy LeBeau (Gambit)

Telling Remy you’re pregnant is like lighting a firework. He’s always been a charmer, quick with a grin and a flirtatious quip, but when the news sinks in, his eyes light up with uncontainable excitement. "Mon dieu… I gon’ be a papa?" he says in disbelief, his signature grin widening as he pulls you into his arms. His hands immediately find your stomach, even if there’s no sign of the baby yet, and he plants a loving kiss on your lips. Remy is the kind of man who loves with his whole heart, and now, the idea of a family with you makes him feel like the luckiest man alive.

Throughout the pregnancy, Remy is absolutely doting. He spoils you beyond belief, making sure you have everything you need. He constantly brings you little gifts—flowers, chocolates, or even things for the baby—and he can’t help but talk to your belly every chance he gets, whispering sweet nothings in French. "Cher bébé, you gon’ have de best life wit’ us," he coos. He’s also incredibly playful, making jokes to keep your spirits high during the more uncomfortable parts of the pregnancy. If you’re feeling tired or sick, he’s quick to comfort you, but he does it with his usual playful charm. "You look beautiful, ma chérie, even wit’ a lil’ bump," he teases, kissing your cheek. Remy’s energy makes the whole experience feel lighter, more fun, and less daunting.

During labor, Remy’s usual calm and collected demeanor falters. He’s still his charming self, but there’s a frantic edge to his words as he holds your hand. "You okay, chérie? I’m right here wit’ you," he reassures, though you can see the worry in his eyes. He’s not used to seeing you in pain, and it shakes him more than he thought it would. As the labor progresses, he stays by your side, whispering sweet encouragements in French and English, never letting go of your hand. When the baby finally arrives, he’s completely overwhelmed, tears of joy running down his face as he holds your child for the first time. "Our lil’ miracle," he says softly, his heart full to bursting with love for both you and the baby.

Scott Summers (Cyclops)

When you tell Scott you’re pregnant, he’s stunned, standing still for a long moment as he processes the news. Scott, being the logical and responsible leader he is, has always thought about the future and the possibility of a family, but hearing it from you makes it real in a way that both excites and terrifies him. "We’re… we’re going to be parents?" he asks, his voice soft with disbelief before his arms wrap around you tightly. You can see the joy in his face, mixed with the weight of responsibility that’s already setting in. He’s already planning everything in his mind—how he’ll protect you, the future he’ll build for the three of you, ensuring that you and the baby are always safe.

Throughout your pregnancy, Scott is incredibly attentive and thoughtful. He’s the type to read all the parenting books, meticulously prepare for every scenario, and ensure that you’re comfortable and healthy at all times. He schedules every doctor’s appointment, makes sure you’re eating well, and insists that you take things easy. He’s also incredibly emotional during this time, though he tries to hide it. You often catch him looking at you with a softness in his eyes, one hand resting protectively on your stomach. "I love you so much," he says out of the blue one night, his voice filled with quiet awe. Scott takes everything seriously, and your pregnancy is no exception—he’s already planning how to be the best father he can be.

When the day of labor arrives, Scott is calm and composed, but you can feel the tension rolling off him in waves. He’s a natural leader, but this is out of his control, and it scares him more than he’ll admit. He holds your hand the entire time, murmuring words of encouragement, but there’s a tightness in his voice that betrays his worry. "You’re doing great, we’re almost there," he says, though you can tell he’s just as nervous as you are. When the baby is born, Scott is overcome with emotion. He’s usually so controlled, but in this moment, tears stream down his face as he holds your newborn in his arms. "We did it," he whispers, looking between you and the baby with a sense of awe and love so profound it leaves him speechless.

Ororo Munroe (Storm)

When you tell Ororo you’re pregnant, her reaction is calm yet filled with quiet joy. She has always been a steady presence, and that doesn’t change even in a moment as life-altering as this. You watch as her eyes widen slightly, and she takes a deep breath, letting it out with a smile that’s filled with nothing but love. "A child," she says softly, as if testing the words out on her lips before she steps closer, pulling you into a tender embrace. She kisses your forehead, her fingers gently brushing your stomach. "We will raise them together with the strength of the earth, the wind, and the skies," she whispers, her voice filled with a quiet reverence for this new journey you’re about to embark on together.

During the pregnancy, Ororo is a pillar of strength and grace. She watches over you with care, making sure you feel supported and at peace throughout. Her connection to nature allows her to sense even the smallest changes in your well-being, and she’s quick to help ease any discomfort you feel. She spends hours talking to your growing belly, whispering stories of the world, of the sky, and the beauty of the elements. Her presence is soothing, and she brings you peace in moments where the discomforts of pregnancy are hardest to bear. At night, she holds you close, her hands resting protectively on your stomach, often saying a quiet prayer to the earth for your safety. "You and our child are my heart," she says softly one evening as you drift off to sleep, her love for you as powerful as the storms she commands.

When the time comes for labor, Ororo is a calming force by your side. Even as the pain begins, she stays with you, her hand in yours, reminding you to breathe, to focus on the world around you. "Feel the wind, my love, let it guide you," she murmurs, her voice steady as she helps you through each contraction. You find yourself drawing strength from her presence, her deep connection to the elements grounding you. When the baby finally arrives, she cradles the tiny life in her arms with such tenderness that it brings tears to your eyes. "Welcome to the world, little one," she whispers, her eyes filled with awe and love. Ororo knows this is a moment of great power, not just in the birth of your child, but in the creation of a family bound by love and strength.

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler)

When you tell Kurt you’re pregnant, his first reaction is pure, unfiltered joy. His golden eyes light up, and in an instant, he’s pulling you into a tight embrace, his tail curling around you protectively. "Mein Gott! You are serious, ja?" he asks, his excitement palpable. When you nod, he lets out a delighted laugh, teleporting you both into the air for a brief moment in his excitement before bringing you back down gently. He cups your face in his hands, pressing kisses all over your cheeks and lips, his happiness absolutely infectious. "I am going to be a papa?!" he repeats, as if he can’t quite believe it, but the pure joy on his face shows that he couldn’t be happier. He immediately begins to talk about your future together, about how he’ll be the best father, about how lucky the child will be to have you as their mother.

Throughout your pregnancy, Kurt is an absolute ball of energy and love. He’s always fussing over you, making sure you’re comfortable, making sure you’re happy, and doing everything he can to make you smile. He talks to your belly constantly, telling your baby stories of his own childhood, sharing his love for adventure and his deep faith. "You will be loved, little one. So very loved," he whispers often, his tail lightly wrapping around you as he presses his head to your stomach. Despite his own rough upbringing, Kurt is determined to make sure your child is raised with nothing but love and joy. He’s so excited for every little milestone, constantly asking how you’re feeling, and making sure that you never feel alone or overwhelmed. He even starts knitting baby clothes in his spare time, determined to create something personal for your child.

When labor begins, Kurt is nervous but tries his best to stay calm for your sake. He teleports in and out of the room, fetching things, bringing you water, doing anything he can to help. "You are so strong, meine liebe, you’ve got this," he says, though you can see the nervous energy in him as he paces slightly. When things get intense, he stays by your side, holding your hand tightly, his usual calm demeanor replaced with pure awe at what’s happening. The moment the baby is born, Kurt is overwhelmed with emotion. Tears fill his golden eyes as he looks at the tiny life you’ve created together. "Our little miracle," he whispers in awe, his tail brushing gently against the baby’s tiny hand as he cradles them carefully. His heart is full, knowing that this is the start of a new, beautiful chapter for your family.

Piotr Rasputin (Colossus)

When you tell Piotr you’re pregnant, his first reaction is one of quiet shock. His gentle nature has always been a core part of who he is, but the idea of becoming a father leaves him momentarily speechless. He stares at you for a moment, as if processing the magnitude of what you just said. Then, slowly, a smile breaks across his face, and his massive arms gently pull you into a warm, protective embrace. "We are going to have a child?" he asks, his voice soft and filled with wonder. His metal form, cold to the touch, somehow feels comforting as he holds you close, his hands resting gently on your stomach. "I… I will do everything to protect you and our child," he promises, his deep voice filled with determination and love.

Throughout your pregnancy, Piotr becomes an even more protective and attentive partner. He’s already used to being careful with his strength around you, but now he’s even more cautious, always making sure you’re comfortable and safe. He spends hours drawing and painting, creating art that reflects the love and joy he feels for you and the baby. His gentle nature shines through as he constantly checks in with you, making sure you’re well-rested, eating enough, and not doing anything that could put strain on you or the baby. "You should rest, moya lyubov’," he says softly, offering you a cup of tea or a warm blanket whenever you look the least bit uncomfortable. He talks about the future often, about how he wants to raise the child with the same love and care his family gave him, how he wants to teach them to be strong but gentle, like him.

When labor begins, Piotr is a bundle of nerves beneath his calm exterior. His metal form shifts, and you can see the tension in his usually composed demeanor. He stays by your side, holding your hand gently, though you can tell he’s trying not to show just how worried he is. "I am here, love, you are so strong," he says softly, his voice a low rumble as he reassures you throughout the process. As the labor progresses, he’s there every step of the way, doing whatever he can to help. When the baby is finally born, Piotr is overwhelmed with emotion. He carefully cradles the tiny life in his large, metal arms, his eyes shining with tears as he looks at you with pure love. "Our family," he whispers, his deep voice filled with awe and devotion. "You have given me everything."

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto)

When you tell Erik you’re pregnant, his initial reaction is one of deep, contemplative silence. You watch as the weight of the news settles over him like a heavy cloak, and for a brief moment, there’s an unreadable look in his sharp eyes. He’s always been a man burdened by the past, his life filled with loss and pain. But then, his expression softens, and he reaches out to touch your face, his fingers trembling ever so slightly. "A child," he murmurs, almost as if he’s afraid to believe it. Slowly, a smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and he pulls you into a tight embrace, burying his face in your hair. "We will give them the world," he promises, his voice low and filled with the intensity that only Erik can bring. Though you can tell the news has stirred up memories of his past, the joy he feels for this future with you is undeniable.

During the pregnancy, Erik becomes fiercely protective, bordering on overbearing at times. He’s always been a man who values control, and now that you’re carrying his child, that instinct is heightened tenfold. He monitors everything, making sure you’re safe, making sure you’re comfortable, and making sure nothing threatens you or the baby. His magnetic abilities become almost a subconscious part of how he protects you, moving objects out of your way before you even realize they’re there, adjusting the temperature of the room without a second thought. Despite his intensity, there’s a tenderness in the way he speaks to your belly, as though he’s already trying to form a connection with your unborn child. "You will be strong," he says one evening, his hand resting on your stomach. "I will make sure of it."

When labor begins, Erik is calm but incredibly focused. He’s been through many battles in his life, but this is something different—a battle of a more personal kind. He stays by your side, his hand gripping yours tightly, though you can see the tension in his jaw as he tries to remain composed. "You can do this, my love," he says, his voice steady despite the worry in his eyes. As the contractions grow stronger, he channels his abilities to make the environment as soothing as possible, dimming the lights, adjusting the metal fixtures in the room to make everything feel more comfortable for you. When the baby is finally born, Erik is silent for a long moment, staring at the tiny life you’ve both created. Then, without a word, he takes the child in his arms, his eyes filled with a rare vulnerability as he gazes down at them. "I never thought I would have this again," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you."

Wade Wilson (Deadpool)

When you tell Wade you’re pregnant, his reaction is, unsurprisingly, over the top. He stares at you with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open comically for a moment before he suddenly breaks into a huge grin. "Are you serious?!" he shouts, throwing his arms in the air and spinning around in excitement. He grabs you and starts bouncing you up and down, all the while chattering on about how you’re going to have the coolest kid in the world. "Oh man, this is going to be awesome! Our little baby Wadelette, or Wadelino!" His excitement is infectious, and though his humor never stops, you can tell there’s genuine love and excitement behind his wild antics. He talks about everything from baby names to what kind of mini-costume the kid will wear, all while being completely and utterly himself.

During the pregnancy, Wade is a chaotic but devoted partner. He’s constantly hovering, making ridiculous jokes to keep your spirits up, and finding the weirdest ways to pamper you. "You’re eating for two now! Gotta keep that belly happy!" he’d say, handing you a tray of the strangest food combinations you’ve ever seen. Wade has a way of making even the most uncomfortable moments of pregnancy into something funny, but when the serious moments hit, he’s surprisingly thoughtful. He talks to your belly in exaggerated voices, telling the baby stories of his adventures and promising to be the best (and weirdest) dad ever. Though he can’t quite stop being himself, you know that beneath all the humor, Wade is completely committed to you and the baby.

When labor hits, Wade is... well, Wade. He’s running around like a madman, alternately panicking and cracking jokes to try and keep things light. "Okay, okay, I’ve got this! I’ve fought ninjas, I’ve blown up buildings, how hard can this be?!" he says, though the genuine concern in his eyes gives him away. As things progress, he becomes a little more serious, holding your hand and whispering words of encouragement between his nervous ramblings. When the baby is finally born, Wade is struck speechless for once in his life. He stares down at the tiny bundle in awe, his usual mask of humor slipping as he gently takes the baby in his arms. "Holy crap," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath. "We made a tiny person." He looks at you with wide eyes, his usual bravado replaced with pure, unfiltered love.

Wanda Maximoff (Scarlet Witch)

When you tell Wanda you’re pregnant, her initial reaction is one of quiet, overwhelmed emotion. You watch as her eyes fill with tears, her hands trembling as she reaches out to touch your face. "A baby?" she whispers, her voice filled with disbelief. For Wanda, this news is a dream she never thought possible, a hope she had long since buried beneath the weight of her complicated life. She pulls you into a gentle embrace, holding you close as she tries to process the enormity of what this means for the both of you. Her powers flicker around her, responding to her heightened emotions, but she calms herself quickly, pressing her forehead to yours. "I never thought I would have this chance," she says softly. "But now… now we can have a family."

Throughout the pregnancy, Wanda is a bundle of emotions—both excitement and worry. She’s incredibly protective, her powers always at the ready to keep you and the baby safe, but there’s an underlying fear that something could go wrong. Despite her concerns, she embraces the experience fully, surrounding you with warmth and love. She spends hours researching everything about pregnancy, reading books, and using her magic to ensure you and the baby are healthy. She talks to your belly every night, using her magic to create little illusions of what she imagines your child might look like. "You will be so loved," she whispers to your stomach, her hands gently resting over the growing life inside you. Despite the fears that linger in the back of her mind, Wanda finds joy in the journey, grateful for the chance to experience this with you.

When labor begins, Wanda is nervous but focused. She holds your hand, her magic swirling around the room in gentle pulses, trying to ease your pain and keep you calm. "You’re so strong," she says, her voice soft but full of conviction. "I’m here with you." As the contractions intensify, Wanda uses her powers to help as much as she can without interfering too much, guiding you through the pain with a steady hand and reassuring words. When the baby is finally born, Wanda is overwhelmed with emotion. She cradles the newborn in her arms, tears streaming down her face as she gazes at the life you’ve created together. "Our child," she whispers, her voice filled with awe. "I can’t believe it… they’re perfect."

Pietro Maximoff (Quicksilver)

When you tell Pietro you’re pregnant, his reaction is fast—literally. He zooms around the room at breakneck speed, his excitement palpable as he tries to process the news. "Wait, wait, wait—seriously? I’m going to be a dad?!" he exclaims, coming to a sudden stop in front of you with wide eyes and a grin that stretches from ear to ear. He’s so thrilled that he can barely stand still, constantly moving from one side of the room to the other, muttering excitedly to himself about baby names, future races, and all the things he’ll teach your child. "They’re gonna be fast, I just know it!" he says, already imagining a little speedster following in his footsteps. His excitement is contagious, and though he can be overwhelming at times, you know that Pietro’s joy is genuine and heartfelt.

During the pregnancy, Pietro is both attentive and hilariously impatient. He’s constantly zipping around, checking on you, fetching things, and making sure you’re comfortable. "You need anything? Water? Snacks? Foot rub?" he asks at lightning speed, already halfway out the door before you can answer. His energy is boundless, and though it can be a bit much at times, you appreciate how much he cares. Pietro is always talking to your belly, encouraging the baby to hurry up and grow faster. "Come on, little one, we’re all waiting for you!" he says with a grin, pressing a kiss to your stomach. Despite his impatience, Pietro is incredibly sweet, and he does everything he can to make sure you feel loved and supported throughout the entire process.

When labor begins, Pietro is a whirlwind of nervous energy. He’s constantly pacing, moving from one side of the room to the other, his speed betraying his anxiety. "You’re doing great, babe, really great!" he says, though his voice is tinged with nervousness. He tries to stay calm for your sake, but you can tell he’s on edge, desperate for everything to go smoothly. When the baby is finally born, Pietro’s world comes to a complete standstill for the first time in his life. The moment they place the baby in his arms, everything around him slows, and for once, he’s not in a rush to go anywhere. He stares down at your newborn child, his usual cocky smirk replaced with a look of pure awe and disbelief. "Wow," he whispers, his voice soft and reverent. "I… we made this." His hands, usually moving a mile a minute, are gentle as he cradles the baby close, eyes wide with wonder as he examines every little detail of their face.

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neptuneiris · 1 day

Text

Cruel Summer (03/10)

Against the Tide

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader

summary: at Crown's family tensions rise and you keep running into a person you shouldn't talk to. but both he and you can't help testing the waters.

words: 9.3k

thank you to @peachysunrize for being my beta reader, she also helped me in the previous chapter and I forgot to mention her, but finally here she is. love you bestie!❤

previous part • series masterlist

I am so excited for you to read this chapter! from the next chapters onwards, what we have been waiting for begins (forbidden love)🤭 and I want to thank you once again for all the support you are giving to the story, you guys are amazing and you don't know how much I appreciate it🙏🏻 now enjoy!

warnings: half smut, language.

Sunset's Pier stretches along the boardwalk, a vibrant and lively place, especially on summer evenings.

In the distance, waves break gently against the pier and shore pillars, while palm trees sway in the cool ocean breeze.

Wooden planks creak under the feet of visitors, while the smell of the sea and freshly made food fills the air.

The stores lining the pier are clearly divided, some full of luxury, with glittering windows displaying designer dresses and accessories. And there are other more modest stores, where prices are more affordable.

Or as it would be technically said among the locals of Sunset's: stores for the rich and stores for the poor.

After an exhausting afternoon trying to surf with the boys, Alysanne drags you into the stores, excited to find something nice for tonight's party.

The two of you walk between shop windows, exploring the options, especially in the stores where you can both afford to shop. But Alysanne stops in front of one of the more expensive stores.

You watch as she gawks at a blue bikini on display on the mannequin, the color as deep as the ocean at sunset.

"Look at this!" she exclaims excitedly, almost pressing her face against the glass, "It would be perfect for tonight's party. If only I had the money to buy it," she murmurs between excited and disappointed.

You smile, understanding the desire. The bikini is really beautiful but it is obvious that the price must be very high.

"Don't you have any savings?" you ask her.

"No," she laments, "I used it to fix my phone, did you forget? I can't afford to buy a new one so I have to fix the one I already have."

"Well, I guess I—

A high-pitched laugh interrupts the conversation and when you both turn around, you instantly recognize the people.

Perfectly coiffed black hair and shiny red hair. All those impeccably dressed girls, with expensive handbags, gold accessories and designer sunglasses; Baratheon and Lannister.

But you distinguish precisely Floris Baratheon, Aemond's girlfriend.

All of them in a group watch you both with a mocking face for two things; for being in front of a store like this and for being longing for the beautiful blue bikini.

And even though they don't know you, it doesn't matter that they bother you for the radar of recognizing poor people, because the difference between you and Alysanne is too big compared to them, who can afford to shop here.

Especially since the top you are wearing at the moment is torn on one side. You don't see much but they've already seen it, as well as inspecting your dirty, old tennis shoes.

"Do you really think you can buy anything here?" speaks precisely Floris with a venomous tone, with a sneer as he looks at the bikini and then at both of you, "It's a shame you can only look. Not everyone has the privilege of affording something so nice."

"Yeah, maybe someday you can get it... in the next millennium sales."

They laugh among themselves, clearly enjoying the moment of superiority. And you clench your jaw, annoyed, especially as you watch Alysanne lower her gaze in humiliation.

"Excuse me, do we know you?" you inquire.

You obviously know them, but you won't indulge them.

"Oh dear, everyone here knows us, especially me," Floris says superiorly, adjusting her sunglasses.

"Even your kind know who we are," Cerelle also speaks with clear contempt.

Alysanne regains her composure and you instantly notice.

"Yes, we know you are such a bunch of idiotic, shallow people for thinking that the price of clothing defines someone."

"Some of us have more important things in life than spending money on something so insignificant," you too stand up for yourself and your people.

They all let out a laugh, where Floris takes a step toward you.

“Yeah, sure. The poor always find an excuse to justify their misery. How pathetic and sad," she feigns an exaggerated pout.

"I'd rather be poor than be as empty as you," Alysanne next to you snaps at her.

She arches an eyebrow at her, amused and clearly entertained, as she folds her arms in her arrogant attitude.

"Empty, huh? Well, it's better to be empty than desperate, like you two. Keep dreaming of things you can never have. But don't worry, being poor and living on the filthy side of town, dreaming is free."

"And who do you think you are huh?" Alysanne lunges at her, "You think because you are rich I can't break your face or what?"

You quickly stop her holding her by the arm, worried and of course, Floris recoils back with a frightened face and her friends don't take long to instantly surround her, shielding her as if they were her wall of protection.

"Not so talkative and brave now huh!?"

"Hey, Aly," you hold her back, "Stop it. It's not worth it."

Floris and all of them look at you both with despise.

"See? They're all savages," she says without again getting too close.

"Oh yes, very savage, just because we're defending ourselves from you making fun of us and making us less," Alysanne tells her firmly and in a defiant tone, "But you can't even defend yourself. So I advise you to talk less or I'll break that pretty rich girl face of yours."

It is clear that Floris wants to say more mean words, but she stops when she notices someone else walking towards the group, completely oblivious to the situation and you also recognize this person; Helaena Targaryen.

She with her usual calm, appears near you, but stops just in front of another nearby store, casually observing a clothing through the glass without noticing the tensions.

And you curiously notice how Floris, upon seeing her, remains silent for a moment. Then you guess that she doesn't want to show her true colors in front of her sister-in-law.

"Let's go," she orders in a lower and less confident tone than before.

Her friends obey without another word and begin to walk away, but not before giving your cousin a last contemptuous and disdainful glance at your side.

And you too, of course.

Helaena also leaves with them as they approach her, her silver hair shining in the sunlight and moving with impeccable grace.

Alysanne lets out a frustrated sigh next to you, still angry.

"I can't believe those idiots think they have the right to treat us like this. And all because of what? For not being rich like them?" she inquires in disbelief, "Do you realize how stupid that is?"

"Let them stay in their bubble," you mutter, feeling just as irritated, "We're not rich but we're better people than they are."

Alysanne takes a deep breath, shaking off the adrenaline of the moment, then you both go your own way, trying not to let this thing that happened ruin your day.

Especially since you have another party tonight, unfortunately with those girls, but it's not like you're going to be with them.

And just as ten o'clock at night falls, Cregan's car and the excited shouts of the guys rushing you to get into the car can be heard practically all over the street.

Alysanne again shushes them, as your uncle and aunt are asleep, as well as most likely the neighbors, and you both quickly get into the car amidst laughter and scolding of the guys.

Then Cregan's car speeds up and soon all of you are walking into the Crown's side.

The party is as always; on the beach. And it's everything you'd expect being among the rich. The DJ can't miss, the clean beach, the pier, the yachts and the smell of alcohol mixed with the sea breeze, among other substances.

Tonight you decide not to focus on the people around you and together with the guys, sit on the white sand, while Cregan and Sam go for as many beers and bottles of champagne as possible.

Alysanne is also not in the mood to be inspecting and lusting after Pandora accessories on all the rich girls that are here. So the two of you relax.

Chase lights the bonfire in the center and pretty soon everyone is drinking, talking and laughing, enjoying the party and nothing else.

Every now and then some guys come up to greet Cregan, who greets them back without much enthusiasm and returns to the group, where you notice how attentive he is especially to Alysanne.

You don't say anything and just continue drinking, laughing at the guys' jokes and burning a few marshmallows, when then... you feel it.

A piercing look on your face.

You don't doubt it's a girl inspecting you, so you don't think anything of it at first. But then... it's as if that look burns you and wants to see through you, sending shivers through your whole body.

You look around, just out of curiosity, but when you raise your gaze absentmindedly towards the direction of the yachts, to the part of the deck specifically, your eyes meet piercing blue eyes.

Then you see him.

Aemond Targaryen.

Time seems to stand still and you feel more of the weight of his gaze, that same weight you felt last night on the pier, when he caught you.

You also feel a surge of nerves course through your body, with your heart racing as you remember the night before. It's not fear, but it's something close to it.

Because now he's caught you here too, at a party of his people, at Crown's.

And the weird thing is that you didn't expect it and you feel so silly about the fact. How could you not think that he would be here and that the two of you would probably see each other after last night?

Even though it's no longer a probability, he's seeing you right now and sees what you're doing; pretending to be one of them.

You watch as his gaze briefly sweeps over the guys you're with and honestly... you don't know how to feel about it. Technically, you're not doing anything wrong here either, are you?

‘Then why do you feel so embarrassed?’

His piercing eye again focuses on you and you, for some strange reason, don't look away and neither does he. It's as if the two of you are caught in a game you can't avoid.

No one seems to notice the silent exchange between the two of you, except you and him. But you know that talking to him, getting close to him in public, is impossible.

You know it and you know he knows it too. It's like a law in Sunset's among its locals but more specifically among those your age; the rich and the poor can't be friends.

You bite the inside of your cheek, even without both of you looking away, where both of you are too far away to say anything to each other, but the looks say it all.

Then, it is he who looks away when Floris holds his face and kisses him softly on the lips, claiming his attention. You feel a sting of something pinch your stomach and you force yourself to stop focusing on him as well.

You try to refocus on what the guys around you are saying, but you can't, not now that he's here too.

You didn't tell anyone about what happened last night with him on his pier, because nothing really bad happened, except the fact that you almost got caught.

It was just a conversation with the son of the richest man in the whole country and heir to his fortune, nothing more.

Although the memory has followed you ever since.

Unable to help yourself, you look at him again, where you see him surrounded by his friends and also distinguish his brother, Aegon. And of course, Floris, sitting on his lap.

He is no longer watching you but you wonder what he might be thinking now that he has seen you here too.

'Probably nothing.'

You think, since for him, what happened on the pier was just a conversation, a small slip in which you both sought some solace and nothing more, an insignificant moment.

What else could he think of having shared his time with a Black Waves girl?

You let out a long breath and your eyes roam his features, as the same thoughts from last night return to your mind when you were also slyly admiring him.

'He is so handsome.'

You think as you also admire his short silver hair and see a silver chain peeking out from between the collar part of his shirt, with that simple accessory making him look so ridiculously good.

But you cannot pass Floris Baratheon unnoticed, on his lap, talking to him and leaving from time to time some kisses on his lips or on his cheek.

You shake your head, clearly being impossible, since he belongs to a world that is not yours, to a social class that would see you as an intruder if you even tried to approach.

So you can only think that what happened on the pier was just a one-time thing, a quirk and a moment that you must now bury in oblivion.

Aemond Targaryen, as a child, does not remember a single moment when his family did not attract attention.

He does not remember a single moment where his mother did not ask him, as well as his siblings, to accompany her and his father to an event in the town for work and simply to see them all together as a perfect and powerful family.

He has forgotten the countless times where his father, Viserys, introduces him and his siblings to his associates and all those important people more as trophies than as what they really are; his children.

With Aegon the introduction is brief, for after all, no one expected his first eldest son not to follow in his same footsteps as his older first daughter did, Rhaenyra.

But Aemond knows that Aegon is... uncontrollable.

As a teenager he began to show signs that he didn't want to go into business or anything like it or anything relatively formal.

As much as his mother, Alicent, and even his own father and grandfather Otto tried to scold, persuade and convince him, it only caused Aegon to back away from the idea and start doing whatever he pleased.

For him only desire has always been to simply live life and find out what he really wants.

Then there is Helaena, who followed the same path as Aegon but in a more controlled way and with different aspirations to life though just as flattering, which is to study marine biology.

And finally there is him, Aemond Targaryen.

He saw the whole process of his older brothers in deciding not to devote himself to the business or rather empire that his father has built. With Aegon it all turned out to be a disaster but Helaena was more persuasive.

So someone had to do it, follow in his father's footsteps as Rhaenyra did, but this time a man, a son and that had to be him.

Daeron still lacked time to decide and grow up some more. So he watched as his father began to despair and have fights with his mother and everyone at home for not being able to choose the aspirations and decisions of his children.

So it was he who calmed the storm at home when he announced that he would apply to college to study business management to carry on the Targaryen legacy, just like Rhaenyra.

His father was overjoyed, as was his mother and for the first time, in that small moment, Aemond felt that he was finally receiving that recognition and appreciation from him.

But then he realized that it was never worth it.

After searching for so long for a way for his father to finally see him for what he is, his son, when that moment came it wasn't worth it and it didn't make him feel any better.

Because Aemond knows deep down that only his father was happy for him out of convenience, to mold him to how he wants and because that way, he is just another piece on his board.

And it became quite clear to him the moment his father expressed his idea about the Baratheon's.

Viserys, even with all he has and having an advisor at his side like his grandfather Otto, wants more.

And Borros Baratheon is that more by being the owner of the most important commercial fleet operating along the entire Pacific coast of all. Viserys needs to transport freight for its big company, which is what Borros does.

Viserys needs freight for his great enterprise, which is what Borros is all about. But Borros Baratheon is a difficult and greedy man who also wants more, even to Viserys Targaryen himself.

So he and his entire team focus on an easier target that will get him to the finish line; his daughter, Floris.

Any of his daughters would have sufficed, but considering Floris is about the same age as Aemond and his father had already seen her get her hopes up for him at events, it was the perfect idea.

At first Aemond refused. For the moment he had no intention with any girl, especially any of the Baratheon sister’s. But his father insisted.

Viserys explained to him how much he needed such a partnership and asked him to start asking her out to eventually formalize and make the deal with his father easier.

Aemond tried to help him find other alternatives, tried to make him understand that he didn't want nor could he play with Floris' feelings in that way to achieve a partnership.

But none of that helped.

His mother sided with his father, with the difference that she was more sensible on the subject and asked him to try and take the time to get to know her, that maybe he might really like her.

So he had to give in and before long, he was in a formal relationship with Floris Baratheon.

And now this is his life.

Not that much has changed, but there are these fights at home between her mother and father because there's really no love between them.

There's also fighting between his father and his siblings over the choice of what they really want to do with their lives while they're all attending events to pretend to be this perfect family that they are.

And he's in a relationship with a person he doesn't really want to be with and as soon as the summer is over, he's going off to college to study with pressure and expectations on his shoulders for a degree he doesn't really want to study.

But as anyone in Sunset's would think, both Crown's and Black Waves; the Targaryens are perfect.

“Hey.”

A voice pulls him out of his thoughts and he looks up as he sees Aegon approaching him, shorts on, sandals, a white t-shirt, sunglasses and phone in hand.

"I was looking all over for you. What are you doing?"

He lets out a long breath and closes his book to place it back on the shelf.

"What do you want?"

"Get dressed. We have a party tonight," he lets him know, then starts typing on his phone.

"Another one?" he asks with a serious look on his face.

"What?" he becomes indignant, shrugging, "Come on, it's summer. And everyone will be there. Cassandra told me Floris is going."

"I don't want to go."

He looks at him with a frown.

"What are you talking about?" he asks him blankly, "You're going to stay here reading these stupid books all summer? You're going to college for another two months!"

"Helaena and Daeron will go with you, I don't understand why you want me to go too," he tells him grumpily, choosing another of the many books in the library.

"Helaena is sick and Daeron promised to stay with her to watch movies," he tells him as if were the gravest sins in the world, "Come on, man. Come with me. And I won't ask you for anything again, this will be the last time, I promise."

"That's what you always say, like I don't know you," he says as he picks up a book and sets it on the table, "You're just so fucking annoying."

Aegon lets out a frustrated groan.

"Come on, don't be like that. You'll have more time to read and be doing these boring things you like to do," he tries to convince him, pointing to the books.

But Aemond says nothing to him and, of course, Aegon starts to throw his tantrum.

"Aemond," he complains, "Come on, please."

And the sound of his voice is already starting to annoy him, especially being in the library.

“Aegon—

"Come on," he interrupts him, insistent, "I really don't want to stay here and listen to dad yelling and fighting with mom all night, man."

Aemond lets out a long breath again and with nonchalant movements watches his brother over his shoulder, looking serious and now slowly becoming resigned.

And soon enough, they are both already in his car, driving towards the Lannister house.

Normally he wouldn't have agreed to come, but he recognizes that Aegon is right and the truth is that he doesn't want to stay at home listening to his parents' quarrels either.

Even though his house is huge, the shouting echoes through the halls, and then his father in all his anger goes against Aegon as well, where Helaena intervenes, then Daeron and finally him to try to calm the waters.

And he's tired of it.

Just last night another one of those fights happened, his mother was almost in tears and Helaena too, while Aegon and his father were shouting all the worst things possible at each other.

And that's why he decided to go to the pier after he failed to fall asleep.

As he drives, his gaze softens as he remembers you.

He still doesn't understand how a girl like you, from Black Waves, for a whole year was going to his family's pier at midnight without being discovered.

He doesn't understand how you did it either and he's not sure he wants to know. He was about to call security, of that he has no doubt, especially considering the robberies some of his neighbors suffered.

Because that's what he first thought, that you were a thief and he was trying to do something with his yacht.

However, it was something in your fear and pleading, perhaps also that you didn't have something suspicious on hand to try to do harm and the sincerity in your gaze after silently evaluate you that he saw to finally understand that you weren't doing anything wrong.

It was bad to cross over private property but other than that, he saw you earlier, before he approached from a distance, sitting on the edge of the pier looking out over the horizon.

But he still had to make sure and it all turned out very interesting.

That you were on his pier, risking that you could be caught, simply because that place gives you peace and quiet, caught his attention.

It seemed... unusual. Something out of the ordinary. Maybe because you're a Black Waves girl.

But still, it's something he's not used to hearing from others in appreciating something so simple and plain but so meaningful to that person.

And being there with you... everything in his mind disappeared.

All his excessive thoughts, frustrations, pressures, expectations and stress disappeared for a moment, which is very difficult for him to do in the midst of all the storm in his mind.

And strangely, because he shouldn't have, he spent a nice time with you, an unknown Black Waves girl, even if he didn't show it much at the time.

He doubts that was a good idea, to let you stay and still tell you that you can keep going to thepier. But technically... nothing bad happened.

And doubt that I'll ever see you again, last night was just a coincidence, besides that shouldn't happen, right?

In the town where you both live, a poor girl and a rich man can't even be friends. And much less he can afford something like that because of his family name.

Again his thoughts are interrupted as they enter the area where the Lannisters live and Aegon immediately chatter excitedly about how amazing the party looks.

And soon enough the two find themselves walking onto the beach and onto the Lannister dock.

It's the same as always, there's really nothing new, just decorations, DJ, open bar with bottles of vodka, wine and champagne as well as beer, cocktails and the smell of cigarettes and weed in the salty air.

All the people are dancing and getting drunk, as well as there are other people having mini bonfires, drinking and burning marshmallows.

When a group of people catches Aegon's eye on one of the yachts, he takes no time at all to drag him along with him.

And just like that he meets Floris, who greets him very happily with a hug and a kiss on his lips, which he tries to reciprocate as genuinely as possible.

Aegon goes off to find a girl to stick his tongue down her throat and he stays on the yacht with Floris and his friends.

Quickly some of his friends offer him drinks to cheer him up and he declines as he has to drive, so he only chooses to light a cigarette, wanting the night to pass quickly.

And so the hours pass, with nothing really interesting going on around him and Floris sitting on his lap, trying to keep up with her to also try to be a good boyfriend.

But all he wants to do is go home.

"Are you okay?"

Floris' voice brings him out of his thoughts and he turns his head towards her, where she watches him with a small smile on her lips and with one of her hands starting to stroke his short silver hair.

"Yeah," he tells her in a low murmur, then takes another sip from the only bottle of beer he'll be drinking tonight.

"Are you sure? I didn't even know you were coming. I texted you and you didn't respond," she says making a pout.

And he avoids looking instantly annoyed.

It's not that Floris is a bad girl, she really tries because she really loves him. But he doesn't feel the same and doubts he ever will, though he tries.

"Yeah, you're right, sorry, I was busy in the library," he explains briefly.

"At the library?" she repeats confused, "Why?"

"I'm getting a head start on reading books for college," he again explains as briefly as possible.

Luckily she doesn't say anything more on the subject but continues to sit on his lap and try to get him to talk, even though he's not really having any of that right now but he doesn't want to be rude to her either.

So when she starts talking to one of her friends, he looks in all directions, scanning the party without again finding anything interesting.

But then in the midst of analysis he sees it.

Or rather he sees you.

A few meters below him on the sand, confused, he immediately recognizes you, sitting among a group of guys and a girl with a bottle of beer in hand, laughing and talking to all of them.

And again he wonders; what are you doing here?

And you can't blame him, he really doesn't get it, it was surprising enough seeing you on his pier, in the most exclusive and private area of all Crown's as to also see you here, on the Lannister's pier, a Black Waves girl mixed up as if you were one of them.

He sweeps his gaze over all the guys you're with and is more surprised to see you talking and laughing with Cregan Stark.

Then he gets it all.

He's the one who gives you access, as well as your friends and that girl you're with, who he assumes must be your cousin from what you told him last night, all except Cregan belonging to Black Waves.

And there you are, again not hurting anybody, but pretending to belong to Crown's.

All the guys you're with are certainly having a great time and so are you, while he again focuses on Cregan, from whom he honestly expected it.

He doesn't include himself much with the guys from his part of town, sometimes he talks to him or Helaena, but nothing more. Now he knows why.

And somehow he can't take his eye off you.

He watches you curiously, analyzing you, seeing that you have guts, just like your cousin and your friends, to take risks like this.

At any moment anyone could expose you if they watch you too much, but you don't seem to care about that, nor do the others.

And then, his gaze meets yours.

He sees you freeze for a moment, as if you are once again trapped by him, which actually you are and he, for some reason, doesn't look away and neither do you.

Memories of last night invade him again and he can guess how you must be thinking about it too.

But he can also guess how you again feel exposed and how terribly nervous you must feel. As if you are afraid that he, now that he has seen you here too, will expose you once and for all.

But it is as if it were a game of stares, as neither of them look away from each other. It's not as if they can talk, the distance is too much, also considering that he is on top of a yacht.

But what if this were not the case? Would the two of you talk?

Aemond knows perfectly well that they wouldn't.

"Hey, did you hear what I said, babe?"

Floris makes him turn his gaze away from you to focus on her as he feels her turn from his cheek with her hand towards her to plant a soft kiss on his lips, wanting his full attention.

And he awkwardly reciprocates as his attention is still on you.

But he forces himself to take that attention away from you, especially as he still has Floris sitting on his lap with both arms around his neck, glued to him.

And it's here that he assumes, as you do, though he doesn't know it, that what happened last night was just a one-time thing, two people seeking refuge from the world on the pier one night.

But that's all.

The two of you must not know each other, you can't talk or be seen together, mostly because of different social classes, which leads to pretending that the two of you don't know each other and haven't spoken to each other even once.

And what happened that night, on the pier, didn't happen.

A pile of dishes are placed in front of him on the table in the huge back garden of his house which is basically on the shore of the beach, having a spectacular view of the ocean, the beach, the pier, the cliffs around and also the huge houses of his neighbors.

His mother thanks the cooks, who retire and leave his mother, father and him alone.

Aegon must still be asleep, Daeron too because he probably stayed up watching movies with Helaena all nigth who is still very ill. So he is the only one who joins the breakfast.

He looks carefully at a message from Rhaenyra, which is accompanied by two PDF books.

'These books helped me a lot when I first started studying, you can read them if you want to before you go to uni so you have an idea of everything you will learn.'

Aemond reviews both books, both over 400 pages, being very dense material and being exactly what awaits him at college, but he also knows it's important.

He runs a hand down his neck and responds to her text.

'Thank you, Rhae.'

Ever since his older sister knew he would be going into business as well, she's been supporting him.

It's not like from the beginning the two of them had a good relationship, especially since she's the daughter of their father's first wife and there was no first-rate bond, neither with him nor with her other siblings.

But now that she has a family and he has matured enough, at least more than Aegon, that relationship has slowly begun to be forged and maintained.

Besides he is grateful to receive genuine support. Especially from her, already an expert on the subject and with whom he will probably lead the Targaryen empire in the future.

"Are you going to have breakfast, son?"

His mother's soft voice causes him to look away from his phone screen and set it aside, having no interest in responding to messages from Floris or a few of his friends who were with him last night at the party.

"Yeah, sorry."

He tries to catch up with their pace, making himself his cup of coffee the way he likes it.

"Rhaenyra tells me you're planning to take a management course in the middle of summer, son," his father says, catching his attention, "Is that true?"

And he doesn't ask it in a bad way, on the contrary, it surprises Aemond to see how he has pride in his eyes.

"Yeah, well... I think they'll do me good before I go to college."

"Yes, very good idea," Alicent says, watching him proudly as she notices all his dedication to his study, as it has always been.

"Oh yes, of course," Viserys agrees, without hesitation, "Have you found the right course yet?"

"I'm still working on it."

"But..." he frowns slightly, watching him not entirely convinced, "How are things going with that girl... uh... Floris?"

He immediately feels an uncomfortable sensation in his lower abdomen, stirring in his chair as he runs a hand over the back of his neck, biting the inside of his cheek and trying to maintain a normal appearance.

"Good," he replies briefly, without looking at him, "Everything's fine."

"Yeah?" he asks seeing his reaction, "You've been hanging out with her?"

"We were together last night," he says without wanting to go into details, wanting to get that topic over with.

And Alicent also sees how his son is starting to react.

"Floris usually comes in often during the day," she tells her husband in a soft tone with a cup of coffee in her hands, "You don't see her because you're at work."

"Well, that's good to know," he says pleased, though not entirely satisfied, turning his focus back to him, "I fully support the idea of the course, it will definitely do you good but... you can't neglect that girl. Your relationship with her is very advantageous to the company and very soon her father and I will start having meetings."

He brings a hand to the back of his neck again, staring at a fixed point on the table as he presses his lips together, controlling his emotions and what he really wants to say to him.

His mother stares at him, alert, not wanting him and his father to have fights too. But it is clear that he too is already reaching his limit.

However, Aemond knows that he has more self-control, besides he's already into all of this, so he has no choice but to accept, again, what his father tells him.

"Is that what you want me to do?" he asks him in a low tone, honestly feeling tired.

"Of course," his father states sternly, as if it were obvious, "We must have all the most suitable people possible in the company. And the Baratheon's are crucial to our expansion."

Aemond looks up, but says nothing, because he already knows the speech. The Baratheon's, power, family and company.

"Yes but that really isn't the most important thing," his mother interjects again, "After all, Floris is a very nice and pretty girl. I can tell she really cares about you, son."

He can't help but purse his lips at that comment. He knows Floris isn't a bad girl but she's not exactly nice either. And that doesn't change the fact that he's not interested in her.

"Yes and for that very reason you must not ruin things with her," his father insists, "We have to partner with her father and you can't let her slip through your fingers."

"Viserys," his mother calls out to him with mild reproach.

"You know how important this is, Alicent," he begins to say with reproach in his tone, "I have already lost hope in Aegon. It seems he will never change and will be a good-for-nothing for the rest of his life, taking nothing seriously."

"Don't talk about your son like that," his mother scolds him.

"I'm not going to live forever and someone has to take over the company and support this family. But that doesn't matter to him in the least," he continues, "Daeron is still young and I'm thankful that at least Aemond has taken the same direction as Rhaenyra and me."

Aemond says nothing as his mother continues to reproach, annoyed to hear how Viserys refers to her children, especially Aegon.

And he remains silent, fed up with these discussions, family pressures, expectations and being the only one of his children whom his father seems to trust.

And the worst thing is that he can't say anything, because he knows very well that his father considers him as his last resort and in a way... he doesn't want to fail him and he doesn't want everything in his family to explode.

Even if it means he has to sacrifice his own life for the good of the family, he has to do this and it's not worth arguing with his father because it's no use and he's not going to change his mind.

His father starts to raise his voice, his mother too and he ends up going to his room with his morning already ruined, annoyed, tired and grumpy.

And when he tries to distract himself, to occupy himself with his own personal matters so as not to think too much, just at that moment Floris comes to visit.

Just now he doesn't have the capacity to want to be around her, or anyone in general, he just wants peace and quiet, but considering the conversation he had with his father, he is not able to ask her as nicely as possible to come another day.

"I was with Cerelle at my house but I got too bored, even though I told her to meet me tonight at the beach."

She begins to talk as she starts pacing all around his room he just sits there with his desk in front of him and a few books open.

"I also talked to Royce, he said he would be coming for a visit soon. My dad is still mad at him for leaving but I'm sure he'll get over it. I also heard that Jeyne wants to have a party the next week and..."

And so he listens to her voice continuously, talking about everything she did and didn't do in her day, while he puts a hand to his forehead and lets out a long breath, trying not to sound irritated.

"Oh and I went to the mall with Cerelle. I bought a beautiful bag and clothes for our trip to Hawaii," she says excitedly, "My dad has already arranged everything and my family is so excited for you to come with us. I'm also..."

Her voice slowly fades slowly, becoming a distant murmur, as he sinks deeper into his seat and stares at a spot in his room.

His brow furrows and his mind drifts further away from the conversation.

He can't find a way to tell her to stop talking without looking rude and frustrated, but the last thing he wants to do is listen to her right now and the last thing he wanted was for her to show up at his house this day.

He has enough going on in his family lately, especially with his father and he's not in the mood to be dealing with people right now.

He's fed up with everything and all he wants is to be alone while a wave of mental exhaustion washes over him. He wants to get away from everyone for a moment, to have no one bother him so he can have peace and quiet.

"Aemond."

The hand on his shoulder and the voice so close to him brings him back to reality. He blinks and raises his gaze to Floris, who watches him in confusion.

"Are you listening to me?"

"Yes," he says awkwardly and clears his throat, "Sorry," he says, turning his gaze to the front and stirring in his chair.

But she raises her hand towards him, placing it gently on his cheek and Aemond tenses immediately, as she forces him to look at her again gently but firmly enough.

"Are you sure? Are you okay?" she asks him genuinely concerned, "You didn't seem to be listening to me."

"Yes I was and I'm fine, don't worry," he tells her trying to sound convincing.

But Floris is having none of it.

"Is it because of your father or college?"

The silence that follows is palpable as he averts his gaze and removes his hand from her face with a nonchalant gesture. He says nothing but it's clear she's hit the nail on the head.

And Floris lets out a long, resigned sigh, already expecting that. For it is so typical of him not to confide his thoughts and feelings to her.

She's tired of her own boyfriend raising this constant wall between the two of them, where he doesn't want to open up to her. It hasn't been long since the two started dating but still, despite being a couple, there is no trust.

"Aemond," she murmurs his name softly and unexpectedly takes a seat on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Floris," he calls her name awkwardly as well, trying to shake her off, "Wait, I don't—

"You know you can talk to me about anything," she interrupts him, her tone insistent but with a gentleness that she hopes will soften the situation, "I mean...I'm your girlfriend and I'm here for you whenever you need something, talk or anything."

He lets out a long sigh, feeling the weight of her insistence and the firmness with which she remains sitting on him.

The feeling of oppression invades him, both physically and emotionally.

"It's not... I don't..." he tries to speak, "Look, it's not that I don't want to tell you, but..." he gets frustrated, not finding the words or even the will to talk to her, "It's a lot of things."

"You can tell me," she insists, "Come on, babe. I just want to help you," she says as she begins to stroke his hair.

He close his eye for a moment, his patience quickly wearing thin.

"I don't want to talk," he makes it clear to her in a cold, resigned, tired tone.

She shrugs.

"Then we won't," she says simply, accepting that, "But I want you to understand that I'm here for you."

"Yes, I know," he says without even looking at her, running a hand through his hair.

"We can always do other things," she mentions with a certain tone that Aemond understands instantly.

And before he can do anything, she is already kissing him.

The kiss starts slow and soft, while he has difficulties to reciprocate at first, but Floris doesn't stop and pulls the back of his neck towards her, deepening the kiss.

And he with all the mental chaos he has, tries to reciprocate as best he can, trying to forget at least for a moment.

Floris' hands begin to move down, sliding her fingers slowly over his chest while her other hand gently stroke his hair. Aemond tries to lose himself in the sensation, in the moment and let himself go, so he places both hands on her waist.

She begins to move slightly on top of him, her breathing becoming more agitated and her tongue making its way between his lips, wanting more.

He tries to keep up with her and when Floris begins to rub her center against him, his body responds automatically, letting out a slight grunt without stopping the kiss.

Floris' need is evident and when she brings one of her hands to the edge of his shirt and pulls away from his lips, she watches him with full intent and desire in her gaze, her lips red and swollen.

"I want you now," she murmurs against his lips.

He doesn't say anything, just watches her, truly not so sure. But then he thinks: fuck it.

He's tired and exhausted from carrying the weight of everything around him. He just wants to forget, if only for a few moments. So when Floris starts to take off his shirt, he allows it.

She kisses him again with more intensity and he responds with more fervor than before.

Her hands begin to roam all over his naked torso and he stands up, both hands on her thighs, leading her towards his bed.

Soon Floris is on top of him again and feels a spark of electricity run through his skin as her hands touch the edge of his shorts, but before that happens, she slowly pulls down the straps of her dress.

Aemond watches her wordlessly, with his dark eye and indecipherable expression, as Floris complacently takes her time, enjoying every second, wanting him to desire her.

The straps fall and the top of her summer dress slides off, revealing her breasts. Aemond swallows hard, a mixture of desire and bewilderment passing through his body.

She leans into him again to kiss him, as she takes one of his hands and places it on her breast, prompting him to caress her.

He does so, almost mechanically, trying to let himself go and lose himself in the moment, as she rubs herself against him again, making him more aware of how he begins to get hard, his breathing hitching.

But when Floris' hand descends and slips under his shorts, touching him, it is as if his mind wakes up and sends an alert throughout his body.

Suddenly, he stops kissing her and takes her hand roughly, stopping her. Floris watches him confused and half-naked on top of him, still shaken and not understanding anything.

"Aemond?"

He closes his eye tightly and lets out a deep sigh, shaking his head and bringing a hand to his forehead, clenching his jaw.

"Fuck," he mutters.

"What's wrong?" Floris asks him without understanding what has changed so suddenly.

But he doesn't answer, just shakes his head again and pulls her hand away, to also gently brush her off of him.

"I'm sorry," he says softly.

Floris watches him from his bed, still with confusion on her face and quickly adjusts her dress, covering her naked body.

Her breathing is still rapid, but not so much from desire, but from the feeling of rejection that is infiltrating her. And again, for an instant, she thought this would never happen again.

But here they are, him pulling her away and her heart broken again by the humiliation.

"It's been a while," she murmurs, lowering her gaze, “Y-you don't..." her lips tremble, "You don't touch me."

He doesn't look at her, he can't.

"I know. I'm sorry," he says in a low tone, the apology falling with a tone of resignation.

He picks up his T-shirt that's on the floor and puts it on, bringing a hand to his hair, ruffling it in frustration. And Floris watches him still completely confused.

"I just don't get it," she insists, "We're a couple. We should... be okay, I don't know," she says confused, "And I don't understand you. You don't talk to me, Aemond."

Aemond rubs his forehead, the pressure behind his eyes growing. He doesn't know how to explain, doesn't know how to put into words all the thoughts that suffocate him.

And he can't tell her that he doesn't really want to be with her either.

"I need to go," he says flatly.

"What?" she moves quickly, catching his arm, "No, please don't go," she tells him, her tone full of pleading, "I think we should talk."

"I can't, Floris. Not now."

Without trying to be abrupt, he releases his grip and Floris, unmoving, watches him as he takes his phone and car keys without another word.

And he walks away, leaving her alone in his room.

He has no doubt that he will be in trouble for this later, maybe she will mention what happened to her sisters, eventually it will reach her father's ears about her having problems with their relationship and then it will reach his father's ears, demanding explanations from him.

He's not supposed to let her get out of his hands, as his father says, but now he really doesn't care about that.

He doesn't want to be with her and he shouldn't have let that happen. He should have stopped everything the moment she started kissing him.

Sex has been off the table for a while now. He has only slept with her once, when they both started dating for the first time.

He barely remembers it. It was after they both went to a party. He drank a little more than he normally does and assumes that's why what happened at her house happened.

And mostly it hasn't happened again because he doesn't have the interest. He doesn't feel the need with her. And just when he thinks it will finally happen when he lets himself go, in the moment he can't do it because it's feels wrong and pushes her away, leaving the action half done.

And it's not her fault, it's his doing. But he knows that if he explained it to her, she wouldn't understand.

But just like that, another new frustration joins the storm in his mind.

Now he walks towards the pier, the only place where he feels he can breathe. The sound of the waves gently breaking against the wooden pillars, which is the only thing that accompanies him as he sinks into his thoughts.

He doesn't expect anyone to follow him or look for him there. In fact, the last thing he needs is someone else demanding something from him.

For now, he doesn't want to be the perfect son, the boyfriend who should be attentive or the future heir to the family business. What he desperately wants is to escape the expectations that stifle him day after day.

He leans against the wooden stand and stares out into the deep, dark ocean, letting his mind wander, as he feels all the frustration wash over him and in an instant, he pulls out his pack of cigarettes and lights one.

He inhales deeply, letting the smoke invade his lungs, seeking in that sensation a temporary relief from the pressure he constantly feels.

He enjoys his solitude, he has been used to it since he was a child. In many ways, he prefers it and finds it easier.

It is only now that he feels he is getting closer to his family or at least his siblings since his father has put more pressure on everyone. But he has not approached in the way he had hoped.

Aegon is not serious enough to broach the subject and evades his family in clouds of alcohol, parties and girls. Halaena is more independent and wrapped up in her own world, with her way of coping without getting swept away.

Daeron doesn't yet understand the gravity of the expectations that will one day fall on him. And Rhaenyra... she's away with her own family.

And friends... he has no friends. At least, not genuine ones. They are not people he can trust without their own interests involved.

And if he were to talk to any of them, it would be the same as with Floris; an empty conversation, full of awkward silences and expectations.

That's why at times like these, he strangely wishes he had someone to talk to. Someone who doesn't look at him with judgment or see him only as the heir who has to do his duty.

He needs someone who sees him for who he is, without expectations, without judgment. He just wants to be himself, wants to be just Aemond, without the unbearable weight of expectations.

'What would that be like?'

He wonders with genuine interest and even a certain... longing. But he knows he'll probably never know. Not with the life he has.

He inhales deeply once more, the smoke mingling with the salty wind, enjoying the fleeting respite this place affords him. Then in the midst of his peace and quiet, the wood creaks softly under the footsteps that are not his.

He frowns and looks toward the entrance to the pier, thinking maybe it must be some of the security men, but then... he sees you.

He frowns more and attentively, he watches you walk, back straight and with cautious steps, as if trying not to make noise as you walk away, unaware of the creaking wood betraying you.

Then he wonders what you are doing here and why you are leaving.

He remembers that he told you you could come back but doesn't understand why you're leaving. And before he can stop to think about what he is doing, he calls out you'r name.

"Y/N!?"

You stop immediately, your body tensing as if you've been caught doing something you shouldn't, again.

You bite your lips nervously and slowly turn to look at him, some sorrow on your face as he continues to stare at you in confusion.

And well... he's already caught you, again, first here two nights ago, yesterday at the party and now here again, so what's the point?

"I'm sorry," you say, "I-I... I didn't see you on my way over here," you explain, "And well... I thought you might want to be alone."

Your gaze focuses on his, and for a second, the whole world seems to shrink down to just the two of you, as if you were the only ones on the beach, under the dim lights of the pier.

And he doesn't say anything to you, he just watches you intently. And you take that as a sign to leave.

"I'll leave you alone," you assure him in a soft tone, starting to turn away.

And again, Aemond without thinking, decides to stop you.

"Wait," he says finally, in a soft voice, "You don't have to go."

You watch him carefully and curiously as you tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, a little unsure.

"Are you sure?"

He says nothing, just gives you a slight nod and you, hesitantly, finally take a step towards him and then another, beginning to close the distance to join him at the end of the pier.

An anticipation and excitement begins to grow within you, with the sea breeze and the sound of the waves enveloping you.

You feel a slight tension begin to grow between the two of you. It's not uncomfortable but it's not easy to ignore either. And both Aemond and you know that you are both walking on uncertain ground.

But neither of you can help it.

series taglist:

@zenka69 @strangersunghoon @deliaseastar @thefireblaze @kythefangirl25 @p45510n4f4shi0n @saturnssrings @bellaisasleep @primroseluna @tinykryptonitewerewolf @barnes70stark @tssf-imagines

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond one eye #modern aemond #modern hotd #modern au

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min-imum · 18 hours

Note

ceo mingyu and office siren reader?? 😍😍😍

nsfw, mdni

content warnings: afab!reader, size kink, reader is smaller than mingyu, office sex, semi-public??, fingering, oral sex (m & f receiving), tit fucking!!!!! omg, spit as lube because mingyu never imagined he’d be having sex in his office…, crying from pleasure!!!!, let me know if i missed anything, i realised i didn’t really emphasise the office siren part sorry :(, not proofread forgive me

anon this was honestly such an interesting ask to receive. i took so long to write this because i’ve been thinking about how i want this to go (on top of the crushing guilt i felt for skipping earlier asks but my writers’ block is, unfortunately, selective) but i’m ready now because i saw mingyu in office attire…... he’d make such a hot CEO, blazer always folded neatly over a chair, sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms, just enough buttons left open to be sexy but not inappropriate, expensive watch wrapped around his right wrist.

mr kim is probably the best boss you’ve ever worked for, too — he’s kind but not too giving, he makes sure everyone does the work they’re supposed to do, he resolves problems amicably as much as possible, and he’s not an ass about taking time off work. he feeds the staff sometimes, ordering surprise catering or bubble tea for everyone. he delegates work fairly and doesn’t dump too much on an unlucky underpaid worker.

additionally, the pay he offers is really good, enough for you to splurge every now and then. it hadn’t been this way at any of your previous jobs, where you slaved away to make ends meet. now, even in your upgraded apartment (with it’s upgraded rent), you’re able to spend money to take care of yourself with new products and spa days and branded bags.

he’s unbelievably charming — strong eyebrows and a pretty smile that works wonders during meetings with clients, a superb memory that ensures he knows his staff’s likes and dislikes, and compassion and empathy that makes him a wonderful superior.

so, naturally, you fall for him.

just a little bit. maybe. he’s nice, and all, but you’re sure you can find someone better somewhere else. besides, that’s your CEO, the one and only kim mingyu. he wouldn’t choose you even if you chose him.

you keep your head down and do your best to be a good employee. you’ve never missed a deadline, and you work doubly as hard to cover your sick days (even if he tells you you really don’t have to, he’s got it covered, seriously), and you try to limit the cost you incur from the company’s unlimited coffee policy. you proofread all your reports three times just to be sure. you’re friendly with all your coworkers. you drink at company parties, just enough to fit in, never so much that you’re anywhere close to being drunk.

you stir your coffee slowly, yawning — you’d slept late last night, so today you allow yourself to have an extra cup or two of coffee. the creamer you added swirls into the coffee and fades.

“didn’t take you for a no sugar type of woman.”

you nearly jump, and turn around to see your boss standing next to you, teasing grin on his face. you hold your hand to your chest. “god, you scared me,” you huff. “sugar makes it too sweet and that makes me sleepy.”

“so you do like sugar, just not during work?” mingyu asks, eyebrow raised. you nod.

Do Not Look Down, you tell yourself. Absolutely Do Not Look Down.

ha. too late. you catch yourself staring at his chest straining against his shirt, biceps filling up his sleeves, and blush bright red immediately.

“s-sorry,” you stammer, picking up your coffee and making your escape. “i have a report to get to. nice chat!”

he snickers as you scuttle off, coffee clutched in your hands.

—

good bosses don’t pick favourites, especially not when all their employees work equally as hard and produce decent results.

mingyu, unfortunately, might not meet that criteria. (fortunately, though, it seems like he’s not the only one that likes you. he sees the eyes following you through the office, and he definitely also sees the guy that intentionally takes the long way around the office to the lift just to pass by your desk.)

you’re a wonderful employee that also happens to be absolutely gorgeous. you submit your work on time, you’re civil with all your fellow coworkers, you do your job well, your hair is always tied up neatly, your shirt is always tucked properly into your pencil skirt, your skirt makes your ass look good—

he runs a hand over his face, huffing at himself. you’re his employee who has shown him nothing but respect. he shouldn’t be thinking about you like this.

but god, he’d be lying to himself if he said he hasn’t thought about your pretty, glossy lips wrapped around his cock, or about tangling his fingers in your hair and tugging, or about playing with your tits until you’re sensitive and whiny.

“come in,” he calls, when he hears a knock on the door. his composure promptly flies out the window when it’s you that steps in. your skirt makes your legs look like they go on for miles, even though he knows you aren’t all that tall. he towers over you easily. his cock twitches at the thought and he immediately files the thought away for later, shaking his head to clear his mind.

“i just wanted to bring you these documents,” you say, handing him a stack of files. he nods dumbly as he observes the difference in size between his hand and yours. your lips, soft and inviting, curve around the words you’re saying. he might be a little distracted.

“—earth to boss man,” he hears you call. he jolts back, then chuckles sheepishly.

“sorry, i was distracted,” mingyu rubs his neck. “could you repeat that?”

“sure,” you agree easily. you tell him — again — about a new potential company partnership, then about a little feud that seems to be starting between two of your coworkers, and finally you offer to make him coffee.

“you look tired and out of it,” you observe. “maybe coffee will help. i can bring you some.”

he wants to laugh. he’s not tired, no, he’s just horny and his wet dream is standing in front of him.

“coffee sounds nice,” he says instead. “thank you.”

you step back out of his office to make him his coffee, and he slumps back in his chair, groaning. you’re perfect. he might be a good boss, but a large part of it is because he has you — you point out all the little, blossoming problems that may become major issues over time so he can stomp them out before they even start, and you’re more than competent at your job. it helps that you’re easy on the eyes, too, always presentable and pretty and looking like someone he wants to ruin.

—

when you return with your coffee, you expect to hand it over and return to your desk.

what you’re absolutely not expecting, however, is for your boss to ask you to stay.

you stay frozen in place as mingyu stands and rounds the table before finally stopping in front of you.

“i have to admit,” mingyu says, hands clasped behind his back. “you’re… quite captivating. you’re a hard worker, you’re a sociable person, and it’s been wonderful having you here.”

you nod, confused. he steps closer to you, and oh — now you can smell the scent of his cologne, musky and masculine, and now you have to tilt your head up to look at him.

“am i making you uncomfortable?” he asks.

you hesitate. the mature, correct answer would be yes, please step away from me, sir. but is that really the case? his scent permeates the air. his choice of cologne matches him well. subtle but memorable, powerful but not overbearing. you press your thighs together, swallowing.

“no,” you squeak.

“then, may i touch you?”

you nod, but his eyes narrow. “words, darling.”

you shiver. “yes. please.”

“good girl.” satisfied, he rests his hands on your waist, and one hand moves up to stroke your cheek gently. “you’re beautiful, you know? captured my attention since day one. my attention, and everyone else’s. i think half your coworkers might have a crush on you.”

you lean into his touch, eyes fixated on his, not really paying attention to anything he’s saying. you’re certain you’ve had a wet dream just like this before.

“can i kiss you?”

in lieu of an answer, you throw your arms around his neck and pull him in for a passionate kiss. you moan when he squeezes your waist, and he licks into your mouth. his tongue tangles with yours. it’s sloppy and disgusting and wet and you love it.

“mr kim,” you whine. he shushes you.

“just mingyu.”

“mingyu… please touch me.” you guide his hand to your chest, and he gropes your tit through your clothes, groaning.

“shit, it’s even better than i imagined,” he murmurs.

“do you wanna fuck them?”

his eyes go wide and he moans loudly. “fuck, yes.”

the two of you make quick work of your shirt — he nearly sends the buttons of your shirt flying with how frantic he was, and he snaps the clasp of your bra with a flick of his fingers. you tug your shirt out of where it’s tucked into your skirt and pull it off, throwing it onto a nearby chair. your bra follows and he eyes your tits greedily. he unbuttons his own shirt, then his pants too, and pulls his hard cock out of his pants.

the size of his cock makes you salivate, excited to have a taste. and his body… his body is sculpted by the gods, all muscle and defined lines. the thin sheen of sweat makes him glow.

he places a cushion on the floor for you. you kneel on the cushion and press your tits together with your arms.

“fuck, baby, you’re perfect,” he moans. he spits onto his cock a few times and strokes it, then positions himself between your breasts. he clenches his abs desperately to hold his orgasm at bay.

slowly, he starts fucking between your tits, grunts leaving his lips with every thrust. he whimpers when you lean your head down to lick at the tip whenever it pokes up between your tits. you allow your own saliva to dribble onto his cock and your tits to ease the slide.

it doesn’t take long — this is probably the hottest situation he’s ever been in — and soon, he’s coming all over your face and breasts with a groan. “shit,” he curses. “you’re too sexy, baby.”

with a thumb, he swipes up all the cum on your face and feeds it to you, and you accept it with a dazed smirk. mingyu helps you stand again, and starts sucking hickeys onto your breasts, licking up his own release and leaving his marks behind. then, he presses his lips back onto yours, passing the cum in his mouth to you. it’s so hot and dirty that it makes you dizzy.

his hands slide down to your skirt. he grabs two fistfuls of your ass and moans into your mouth.

“mingyu,” you whine. he coos at you. with one swipe of his arm, he clears his table, folders clattering to the floor.

mingyu lifts you onto the table, then tugs at your skirt hurriedly. you try lifting your ass to help him take the skirt off, but he simply shoves your skirt up your thighs and drops to his knees. “fuck,” you moan. “are you gonna—”

he responds by pressing his nose against your core through your panties. his nose bridge bumps your clit, making you whimper, and the deep inhale he takes nearly makes you cum on the spot.

“smells so good, baby,” he praises. “bet you’ll taste even better.”

he peels your soaked panties off your cunt and slides them off your legs. “can i keep these, darling?”

you moan. “yes,” you reply. “anything you want.”

he slides your panties into his pocket, then presses his face directly into your pussy. there’s no preamble before he’s eating you out frantically, licking and sucking and nibbling, and you grab his hair to ground yourself, nearly screaming in pleasure. “yes, yes,” you chant, whining loudly. “fuck, i’m going to cum so fast.”

soon, you’re fucked dumb, his tongue putting you into a daze, and all you can do is babble mindlessly and cry.

with a shout, you cum onto his face, and he licks you through it, nose pressing insistently at your clit. you jerk in sensitivity for a minute before you finally push him off.

mingyu looks absolutely pussy-drunk, eyes glazed over with a dumb smile on his face. “so good,” he murmurs. “can you go again?”

“i would, but i really want your cock inside me now, mingyu.” you pant.

he springs into action. mingyu stands from where he’d been kneeling and shoves his pants down his legs. you watch, dazed, as he steps out of them and steps towards you.

then, he grabs you by the hips and flips you onto your front, making you squeal.

“mingyu?!”

“been wanting to bend you over my desk,” mingyu says gruffly. “fuck you from behind. can i, baby?”

you moan. “please, yes, give it to me—”

you hear him spit again, and then the head of his cock presses against your entrance. he’s so much bigger than you’d anticipated. you scramble to grab the edge of the table as he rocks into you slowly, a long, loud whine forced out of you. his spit may not have been enough lube, but there’s more than enough of your slick to ease the slide.

his cock bullies into you, stretching you out deliciously and almost painfully, and it never seems to end.

“what a pretty pussy,” he murmurs. “taking my cock so well.”

“a-ah, love your cock,” you babble. “‘s so good.”

“god, i’ve barely even started and you’re already fucked dumb.” he growls. “aren’t you just so perfect for me, doll?”

he hisses when your cunt clenches around his cock. “yes!” you cry. “all for you. all yours.”

his hips buck at your words, and the remaining couple of inches are shoved into your cunt, making you cry out in surprise. he rubs your back in apology, and as soon as you give him the go-ahead, he starts fucking you earnestly.

he gropes your tits and your ass and admires the view of you sprawled out across his work desk, naked save the skirt bunched around your waist, face plastered sideways onto the tabletop. he leans forward and fucks you harder, and you scramble desperately, trying to find something to hold onto, fingertips clawing at the table.

“ungh, mingyu,” you moan. “s-so good, so good—”

“yeah? tell me how much you like my cock, baby.”

“so big, so warm,” you cry. “harder, harder!”

he pistons into you and the pleasure overwhelms you. your cunt clenches around his cock as you try to hold back your orgasm.

“fuck, baby,” he swears. “so tight and warm around me. i’m not going to last long.”

you’re sobbing now. “g-gonna cum,” you whimper. “wanna cum.”

he slides a finger over your clit, and that’s all it takes for you to cum with a scream. he fucks you through your orgasm into oversensitivity, and you clench around him sporadically as you twitch, sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine.

“where d’you want it?” he asks, teeth clenched.

“inside, please give it to me inside,” you answer quickly.

with a growl, he starts to cum, shooting hot semen into your pussy. it makes you cum again, arching violently, and he fucks you through both of your orgasms.

finally, he slows, and pulls out gingerly. he flips you onto your back, then watches the cum start dripping out of your pussy with a dopey, satisfied grin.

you pant, chest heaving enticingly, as you recover from your two orgasms in record time. “well shit,” you mutter. “that was probably the best sex i’ve had in my life.”

“guess it needs to happen again, then,” mingyu says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. you laugh, slapping his arm, and he giggles too, fending off your attacks.

“but for real, though, i do really like you. and. i know we kind of fast-forwarded a little bit, but i’d like if we could try getting to know each other and maybe try dating…?” he asks, suddenly shy.

“i’ll agree to that,” you say, watching him perk up. “on one condition.”

his eyes are bright with puppy-like excitement. “what is it?”

you point down your body at the cum pooling on your pussy and dripping onto the table. “find a way to clean that up.”

with a smirk, he drops to his knees again.

“with pleasure.”

#min-imum #seventeen smut #mingyu smut #mansaenetwork

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unlosts · 1 day

Text

two slow dancers, last ones out

Summary: Unrequited love and a wedding are not a good match, but a luckily you have someone there to keep you company.

2k words

The wedding fell into place like a house of cards tumbling down, in a rush and without much fanfare. JJs dress was lovely, because of course it was, a sea of ivory white twinkling almost as bright as her smile against the placid night air. Everyone was able to make it and despite it being planned with just a few hours to spare the night was as beautiful as one would hope. Beginning of spring ushering a new chapter and all that nonsense.

Not that you were bitter about it.

At all.

Or at the very least you were trying really hard not to be, because they were a lovely couple. Will loved JJ, and JJ loved Will.

The issue was that Spencer also seemed to love JJ.

Again, not that you were bitter about it.

After months of quiet pinning and frustrated yet unreciprocated glances you had called it quits, because it seemed like no matter how many 18th century poetry readings you attended with him, no matter how many early morning car rides or late nights spent talking in hushed tones side by side on the plane, you were simply never going to be the one he wanted.

And you had come to terms with it.

Really.

The fresh heartbreak had been ushered out and been replaced by humiliation a long time ago, looking back you were sure everyone could tell how stupidly in love you had been and how utterly un-reciprocated it was. Every time you remembered how optimistic and doe eyed you had been about the whole thing, something bright and hot burned in the back of your eyes. It was all just so painfully juvenile and you swore you had left the doe eyes behind alongside your cheer uniform and locker combination.

The night had an air of finality to it, you knew that in one way or another nothing would be the same again, and you didn’t want to miss it. Even if it meant swallowing your pride and staying with the wallflowers until closing time.

It would have been easier to do an irish goodbye to the italian planned wedding and slip quietly out the front door but you saw Emily sharing a last dance with Derek and even spied Rossi watching over his hard word with suspiciously misty eyes and you knew you had to stay.

With one hand wrapped over your midriff and the other held aloft, nursing a now lukewarm aperol spritz by the side of the dance floor, looking at everyone swaying to some old jazz ballad, the singer's soft crooning voice setting your teeth on edge. The feel of a drop of condensation traveling from your hand through your forearm sending a chill down your spine.

The gentle weight of a black jacket being draped over your shoulders snaps you out of your pathetic melancholy, the wedding suddenly snapping into sharp focus as the heady scent of a woody cologne blankets you. Two big hands softly squeeze your shoulders in a silent apology before Aaron Hotchner appears next to you, leaning against one of the white columns with his hands in his pockets.

He scrutinizes you with clever brown eyes, his gaze softly traveling from your pursed lips to your down-turned brows and you know he’s got your number when he gives you a soft sympathetic smile. Just a quick turn of his lips that few people would catch, but you did, and the knowledge that he knows exactly what’s going on through your head makes you feel exposed all of the sudden, you slip your arms into the jack and clutch it to you like it could keep you hidden.

But Hotch is … Hotch simply put and you know above all he would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. So he remains quiet next to you, only moving to press his side against you in silent comradery, the comforting heat radiating off of him seeping into you.

“Want me to get you another one?” He asks, gesturing to your long forgotten drink. “It’s not often we get to free reign of Dave’s stash” You know he’s trying to cheer you up and you both know it’s failing miserably but you still appreciate the effort nonetheless.

An awkward sort of silence falls between you both until you decide to ruin it, apparently.

“So, where’s Beth?” Your question catches him off guard, he clears his throat and looks down for a second before catching your eyes.

“We broke up, last week actually” He states matter of fact. You nod understandingly and don’t ask but he clarifies anyhow.

“It was mutual, she had a lot going on at work-”

“Huh, go figure”

“and I was” he hesitates “preoccupied” He doesn’t seem to be distraught, telling you like he would the details of a case, objective and to the point.

“Ahh, so you decided to join the singles corner, welcome we meet every Thursday” You raise your glass in a mock toast before finally putting it down on a nearby table.

Hotch raises his eyebrows and it’s all it takes for you to deflate.

“Sorry, you were being nice and I was just bitchy” You sigh, frustrated and maybe a little bit tipsier than you’d like.

“That’s okay, you’re sad, it happens to the best of us”

“Even you?”

He just lets out a self deprecating laugh before handing you a glass of scotch from a passing waiter.

“You saw me after the divorce, I distinctly remember going into a burning house so I would say a couple of drinks more than you’re used to at a wedding of all places isn’t the worst way to go about it”

“That’s different, you were married this is just…pathetic” There was no point dancing around it anyway, you both knew he was fully aware of what you were talking about.

“Well someone once told me that as much as we’d like to, sometimes we have to sit in those feelings before they can go away”

“What a load of new age shit, whoever told you that was a quack” You smile at him anyway, pleased that even after all this time he remembered that.

“Hmm, I happen to think it was useful,” Hotch replies, taking the scotch from your hand and finishing it off.

“Any more pearls of wisdom this oh so sage one imparted upon you?”

“Yes, other times the only thing you can do is pretend that everything is alright for a couple of minutes” He says, extending his hand towards you and gesturing towards the dance floor “what do you say?”

“You should stop listening to her” You reply but still accept, his hand engulfing yours as he expertly leads you through a sea of couples until you’re far enough that you can’t really see anyone else from your team.

He takes you into his arms, one goes to your back and the other takes you hand into his ,you're still wearing his jacket so you just rest your head against his chest and close your eyes.

“...so” You say softly, your words muffled against his shirt. With your eyes closed and your head resting against his chest, you’ve given up dancing and are just content to be cocooned in his arms while he gently sways you both to the tune of the music. Whatever is playing now has long faded to the edge of your conscience, sounding far away.

“Have you ever considered doing all of this again?”

“Getting married?” This close together his voice reverberates pleasantly through your whole body, it feels as if you’ve both stepped into someone else’s wedding and you know each other here.

“Yeah”

“What, you had your turn in the hot seat and now it’s my turn?”

“Yeah”

After a beat he says admits it so softly that you have to strain to hear him properly

“I would have wanted to”

He had long ago decided to settle for the life he had, being a father had to come first, the rest was something he no longer got to want. Or something he wouldn’t admit he still wanted anyway.

You raise your head briefly to look up at him, his tone sobering you up, because you know him, know what he meant. If you had looked just behind Hotch towards the other edge of the dance floor you would have caught Spencer's inquisitive gaze or Penelopes’ delighted one. But you don’t, you’re laser focused on Hotch searching in his eyes for something you can’t quite grasp, a way to convey that he needs to stop atoning for something he shouldn’t fault himself for in the first place.

You fist your hands on the front of his shirt briefly before smoothing out the wrinkles with your palms.

“I didn’t ask about before, I’m asking about you now”

“It’s not that easy”

“It’s a yes or no question, so yes it actually is”

He tilts his head back in frustration, looking up at the night sky like he’ll find the exact words he wants to use spelled for him.

“That’s not something I get to want anymore” “You can’t punish yourself forever”

He begins to say something but you cut him off before he can, his hands tightening around your waist

“Nor should you try” He gulps and looks away giving in “think whatever you want to think but I know you and I think you deserve to be happy again”

“I thought you said I shouldn’t listen to you”

“Momentary lapse in judgment” You reply with a teasing smile, not wanting to fully fuck up his night “so?”

“...Yes” Somehow the admission of desire feels like a betrayal and a confession at the same time. Both freeing and terrifying.

You go back to swaying together, in sync with one another and standing out against the livelier rhythm of the couples around you.

From this vantage point you study his profile, from his strong nose to his thick lashes and back to his jaw. You never really paid attention to him but right now under the tea lights it dawns on you how handsome he is.

“What about you?”

“Oh I’m joining a convent” He chuckles and you feel it move through you. It’s a rare sound nowadays.

“You’ll find someone” Hotch says with a certainty you wished you could have

“That’s just what you say to make people feel better, it’s up there with yes those bangs look great on you or like when you tell little kids that they can be astronauts or whatever”

“I know you’ll find someone because I don’t think anyone could meet you and not realize how extraordinary you are” He says in an almost whisper.

“There is someone who, categorically, doesn’t realize it, in this very same room”

“Could be he didn’t know you as well as you’d think”

“Could be” You concede.

Some time has passed now, although you can’t pinpoint exactly how long, it feels like the rest of the world went quiet and this is all that’s left. The sweet honeyed lilies, fresh jasmines and heady sweet daffodils of the garden are in full bloom. The night sweetly perfumed as the petals gently swayed to and fro.

From across the garden you can see JJ slow dance with Will, he’s saying something to her and she’s all smiles. You let your humiliation melt into fondness, the warmth you felt for her pulling you out of your melancholy. New beginnings and all that.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction

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ilyrafe · 2 days

Text

𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒏 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄. | 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆

pairing: hitman!rafe cameron x f!reader

warnings: domestic violence, murder

word count: 1k

a/n: this is loosely based on the movie hit man (actually based on a scene lol)

taglist: @starkeyvhs

unpretentiously, rafe enters the diner and sits at a table, facing the entrance, just so he can see who comes and goes. the young waitress takes his order - a cheeseburger with fries and a soda - and he waits.

strangely, he couldn’t find any pictures of y/n, the woman who contacted him. all he knew about her was her name, really. she only said the clothes she would be wearing - a pair of jeans and a large gray sweater, but anyone could be wearing that. she didn’t inform him about her physicality, and he couldn’t find anything about her online, which intrigued him a lot more.

she isn’t his first female client, but it’s still rare for him to have women wanting his services.

his order comes and he keeps watching the entrance of the diner. all kinds of people come and go, young and older men, children, teenagers, and even some women, but none of them approach him.

when he’s taking the last sip of his soda, he sees a young looking woman walking towards him. she looks around, clearly nervous. she sits in front of him and rafe realizes it’s her.

“i contacted you yesterday.” she says, almost whispering.

she is visibly tense, probably her first time talking to a hitman.

“how can i help you, y/n?”

she sighs, contrasting with his own posture. she looks tired, the bags under her eyes are quite dark. her hair is lifeless, quite messy, as if she didn’t really have time to brush it or didn’t care to do it. her clothes aren’t new, and he notices a tiny stain that could be blood, but he’s not sure.

before she can say anything, she reaches for her bag and takes out a dark yellow package and slides it to him.

the cash.

“i need you to kill my husband.”

he could be wrong, but rafe is pretty sure there are tiny tears forming in her eyes. they look scared, devoid of any light or hope. to be honest, this woman is just existing.

“why?”

that seems to catch her by surprise. he doesn’t like the way she’s doing everything she can to look invisible. literally no one has noticed her presence there. the waitress hasn’t even come here to take her order.

“he… he’s awful.” she admits. “i don’t know what else to do. he won’t let me leave him. he… he gets drunk and then he…” she trails off, wiping away a few tears. “anything can set him off and i’m scared for my life. the police won’t do anything…”

the friction between the sleeve and the table causes the skin on her wrist to be exposed and he sees purple marks. if her wrist is that bad, he can’t even imagine the rest of her body.

rafe takes the cash in his hands and after two seconds of thought, he gives it back to her.

“do you have children?” she shakes her head. “then take this money and don’t go back home. go away and don’t look back. start over somewhere far away from here.”

“no, he’ll find me!”

the panic in her voice pains him so much.

“don’t worry about it. i’ll take care of him, but i need you to do what i say.”

“i don’t understand…”

“i don’t want your money. just give me a picture of him and his home address.”

after a few long seconds, she nods and takes a piece of torn photo, a piece of paper, and a pen from her purse. she writes down her home address and hands it over along with the picture of her husband.

she takes back the money and put it back in her purse. it’s all her life savings. the money she had to hide from her husband, so he wouldn’t spend on alcohol and drugs. rafe puts the items in his pocket and watches her leave the diner, hoping to god she listens to him and goes away.

(...)

in his car, rafe watches the movement on the street outside your house.

ever since he left the diner, he has been monitoring your husband’s steps, and since then, he has not seen you coming home. hopefully you really did leave this place for good.

rafe doesn’t know what possessed him to help you, he has never worked for free, and money is perhaps the most important thing in his life, but after seeing you, and understanding that hiring a hitman may have been your last option, he just wanted to do a good deed, since his job is only to kill people in exchange for money.

it is already dawn, two in the morning to be exact. all the neighbors seem to be asleep. when he is sure that he can act, rafe gets out of the car properly dressed for the killing - gloves, mask and a gun.

upon reaching the back door of the house, rafe notices that the door is unlocked, as are the windows.

strange.

prepared for any kind of situation, he enters the house silently. it is dark, so he turns on the kitchen light, and finds himself in a simple but messy kitchen, with food scraps in the sink. there are empty bottles of whiskey and beer everywhere, trash all over the place. just ahead, in the living room, lying on the floor, there is joshua, your husband, apparently passed out.

this will be easier than expected.

before doing anything to joshua, rafe searches your bedroom and sees that the closet is open and empty. well, there are just a few men’s clothes. all of your clothes are gone. you really are gone. you did go back home, but you're gone, and that’s what really matters.

a sense of relief washes over rafe, and it’s inexplicable. it’s like he really feels like he saved a life.

thinking about faking a suicide, he searches for a gun, and luckily finds one in the bathroom. after checking for ammo, he carefully places the gun in joshua’s hand and brings it to his temple. with his finger, he pulls the trigger.

let me know your thoughts & if you want to be tagged :)))

#my writings #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron series #outerbanks #drew starkey #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey series #drew starkey oneshot #drew starkey imagine

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 1 day

Note

To clarify,I don't believe in porn makes you evil and I don't believe in like fantasies are evil. I'm pulling this quote off Scarleteen "“If we aren’t both careful and creative we can get stuck in fantasies that don’t mature and politicize with us."" I'm also new to being about to vote, so I'm trying to be careful about what I consume and what stereotypes media perpetuate. Like I'm not moralizing about kink or anything, and my ask was how can I get aroused with media wo my kinks or wo media

hi anon, welcome back! I'm genuinely very glad to hear some follow up.

for anybody who doesn't stay vigorously up to date with all of my anons, this ask is a continuation of this one.

so I went and checked out the Scarleteen articles you mentioned in your first message, or at least I tried to. How to Approach Sexual Fantasies and Desire on Your Own Terms is here, and while I couldn't find anything with the exact title 50 Shades of Abuse, we do have 50 Shades of BS - How to Tell the Difference Between Kink and Abuse as well as 50 Shades Crappier: On Selling Abuse for Valentine's Day, both of which cover how the 50 Shades series isn't a great model of real, responsibly-practiced BDSM.

now, here's what I didn't see in any of these articles: an assertion that anybody needs to, as you've decided to do, avoid any work that depicts anything less than perfectly healthy sexual practices.

the closest we get to that is the quote by adrienne maree brown from How to Approach Sexual Fantasies, which you mention above. now, here's the thing: first of all, I actually disagree pretty substantially with brown's assertions that one's sexual fantasies need to "politicize." I know what my politics are; the fiction that I enjoy can't change that, because I don't have the moral backbone of a chocolate eclair. I actually just talked about that earlier today in another ask.

(also, and this may be an unpopular opinion, but adrienne maree brown is kind of a dork who doesn't really say much of anything in Pleasure Activism that Audre Lorde didn't already say better and more succinctly, and I personally lost interest in Pleasure Activism pretty much the moment she casually dropped that she practices reiki healing because that's a pseudoscientific alternative medicine that doesn't do shit or fuck. but I digress.)

listen, I'm not trying to peer pressure or bully you into watching anything you don't want to watch. your porn consumption is up to you. but what you're doing here is absolutely moralizing, I think maybe because of an underlying assumption that media that involves sex is just, like, innately different than any other type of media, which is in itself an idea that stems from sex negativity!

I don't know, let's just try to play out a little thought exercise here. like, would you consider it reasonable if somebody told you that they've decided not to read or watch anything that depicts problematic behavior because they don't want to normalize it. like, first of all, they're never watching anything but Bluey again. except actually not even Bluey because I just remembered about Bluey in the genocide, which actually makes for a great illustration of how nonsensical and impossible it is to try to only engage with media that is 100% ideologically pure.

and again: that's fine! that's literally fine! it is 100% okay to watch or read or play things with morals that don't totally 100% align with yours. it's okay to enjoy them, even. it's a lot healthier than trying to avoid upsetting or incongruous things entirely, because that gives you the chance to actually think about it rather than trying to shut it out entirely! that article actually provides an entire list of questions you can run through with yourself to critically analyze the things you watch if you feel so inclined! that's a much better skill to practice than avoidance!

I get that when you're new to sex, as you said in the previous ask, this might seem daunting, but your brain isn't just a sponge that will uncritically soak up and adopt anything you expose it to. you very clearly have the ability to research, differentiate between fiction and real life, and form your own opinions! and it is absolutely fine if you want to just watch porn with your kinks!

like, listen, I see what the question is, and the easiest answer is just. do whatever gets you off.

#sex edventures 2024

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fleming-o · 2 days

Text

Behind the spotlight - Niamh Charles x Reader

request here

Award show nerves aren’t always the best

angst with comfort

---

The soft hum of the city buzzed just outside the window as you fidgeted with your cufflinks, trying to push down the tension building in the room. Niamh stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the strap of her dress for what had to be the tenth time. Her brow was creased, lips pressed into a thin line, and her usually bright eyes were clouded with something heavier tonight.

"You look stunning, you know?" you said, stepping closer, hands hovering just inches from Niamh’s waist. You didn’t want to touch her yet—not when the air between you felt so fragile.

Niamh’s lips twitched, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. "Thanks."

The flatness of her voice cut through your chest, but you kept quiet, knowing better than to push. Niamh wasn’t usually one to show her insecurities. She was a fighter on and off the pitch, and tonight was supposed to be a celebration of that. But the way she kept glancing at her reflection, adjusting her dress, her earrings, her hair, told a different story.

After a moment of silence, you finally stepped forward, resting a hand gently on Niamh’s back. "You okay?"

Niamh’s shoulders stiffened under your touch, and you instantly regretted asking. "Yeah, I’m fine," she said quickly, too quickly.

"Are you sure?" you pressed gently, not trying to pry but unable to shake the worry.

Niamh sighed, her fingers stilling at her side. She met your eyes in the mirror, her expression hard to read. "I just... I don’t know why I’m even going tonight. It’s not like I’ve had a standout season or anything."

You blinked, taken aback. "What are you talking about? You’ve been incredible this season."

Niamh scoffed, turning away from the mirror and folding her arms across her chest. "Incredible? I barely played for half the season because of my shoulder injury, and when I did, I was hardly at my best. I don’t even know why they invited me."

Your heart ached hearing her speak like that. You stepped in front of her, gently grabbing her hands. "Niamh, you’re being too hard on yourself. You pushed through, you came back stronger, and everyone’s noticed. You deserve to be there as much as anyone else."

Niamh pulled her hands back, looking away. "I don’t feel like I do. It just feels... fake, like I’m playing a part tonight or something. All those cameras, the smiles, the awards. It’s all for people who’ve done so much more this season. Not me."

You felt frustration rising in your chest, not at her but at the situation, at how much she was doubting herself. "You’re not playing a part," you said softly. "You’ve earned this. And it’s okay to feel nervous or unsure, but you can’t let that take away from everything you’ve accomplished."

Niamh shook her head, a humorless laugh escaping her. "You don’t get it. I don’t feel like I’ve accomplished anything. I feel like I’m just... there, you know? Filling a spot."

The room went silent, tension thick between you. You knew how much the injury had weighed on Niamh, how hard she’d worked to get back to full fitness, but hearing her like this, so vulnerable, was new. Niamh always hid it so well.

"You’re more than just a spot-filler, Niamh. You’ve fought through so much this season. That means something."

Niamh’s eyes flickered with doubt, maybe frustration, but she stayed quiet, her gaze fixed on the floor, her thoughts clearly heavy.

After a beat of silence, you sighed and stepped back. "Look, I know tonight feels big and overwhelming, but you don’t have to go if you really don’t want to. We can stay home, watch a movie, whatever you need."

Niamh’s head shot up, surprise flickering across her face. "No, I—" She hesitated, her voice softening. "I want to go. I just... I don’t know how to be okay with it."

Your heart squeezed. You stepped forward again, brushing a thumb over her cheek. "Then let me help you. We’ll get through tonight together, okay?"

Niamh’s shoulders sagged slightly, her walls crumbling just a little. She nodded, a small, grateful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Okay."

---

The awards night was every bit as glamorous and overwhelming as Niamh had expected. Lights flashed from all directions as you walked into the venue, cameras capturing every smile, every step. Niamh’s hand was tight in yours, her fingers cold and stiff. You could feel her pulse racing beneath her skin.

"You’re doing great," you whispered, giving her hand a gentle squeeze as you made your way through the crowd, trying to ease some of the tension radiating off her.

She gave a small nod, but her grip on your hand only tightened.

The night passed in a blur of speeches, applause, and polished smiles. Niamh sat rigidly at your table, her eyes darting around the room, never settling for long. Every time the camera panned across the audience, she straightened up, forcing a smile you could tell wasn’t real. You squeezed her hand under the table, hoping to remind her that you were there, that she wasn’t alone in this.

When Niamh’s name was finally called for an award, you saw the flicker of panic flash across her face. She stood slowly, hesitating just long enough for the applause to feel awkward before making her way to the stage.

You watched her closely as she accepted the award, the way she held it in her hands like it didn’t belong to her, the way her voice wavered just slightly as she gave a brief thank-you speech. Niamh was always a fighter, but tonight, she looked like she was fighting against herself.

When she returned to the table, her smile was brittle, her eyes distant. You leaned in, whispering softly, "I’m so proud of you."

Niamh’s jaw clenched, her fingers trembling slightly as she placed the award on the table. "I don’t deserve this."

Your heart sank. "Yes, you do. You worked so hard to get back here. You deserve every bit of this recognition."

Niamh shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "It doesn’t feel like it. I feel like a fraud."

You wanted to argue, to tell her again how wrong she was, but you could see how fragile she was in that moment. Instead, you placed a hand gently on her thigh, grounding her. "You’re not a fraud, Niamh. You’re one of the strongest people I know. And even if you can’t see that right now, I do. I believe in you."

Niamh’s eyes filled with unshed tears, and for a moment, the mask she’d been wearing all night crumbled. She leaned into your touch, her body sagging with the weight of everything she’d been carrying.

"I don’t know how to feel better about this," she admitted quietly, her voice trembling. "I feel so... lost."

Your heart broke for her, but you stayed steady, knowing she needed you to be her anchor. "You don’t have to figure it all out right now. Just take it one step at a time, okay? You’re not alone in this."

Niamh nodded, her grip on your hand tightening again, this time not out of anxiety but out of gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice raw. "For everything."

You smiled softly, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Always."

---

Later, after the lights had dimmed and the applause had faded, you found yourselves back in your apartment. Niamh sat on the edge of the bed, the award resting on the nightstand, her gaze distant.

"You were amazing tonight," you said gently, sitting beside her. "I hope you know that."

Niamh didn’t respond right away. She stared at the award, her expression conflicted, before finally speaking. "I’m trying to believe it."

You wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. "You will. And until then, I’ll remind you every day."

Niamh rested her head on your shoulder, her body finally relaxing into your embrace. "I love you," she whispered, her voice soft but steady.

You pressed a kiss to her hair, your heart full. "I love you too."

And in that quiet moment, with the weight of the night behind you and the warmth of your love surrounding her, Niamh allowed herself to believe—if only just a little—that maybe, just maybe, she really did deserve it all

---

#woso x reader #wsl #niamh charles #niamh charles x reader #chelsea women #woso soccer

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smoooothoperator · 2 days

Text

What Was I Made For?

22: All Things End

childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers (👀)

Warnings: the last scene...

a/n: HIIIIIIII NEW CHAPTER!!!!!!! I have to say that this one was so emotive to write because I went through the same :)

if you want to play a game and ask things about Dafne

Masterlist

previous part

If you want to be tagged don't forget to message me!

Every way of feedback is very welcomed

The crowd's roar watching Lando getting out of the car echoed in the distance, but I barely heard it. The weight of the result sat heavy on my chest as I walked through the pit lane after I weighed myself, helmet in hand. Fourth. So close to a podium, but close meant nothing in this sport. I’d given everything, fought until the last lap, but it wasn’t enough. It never seemed to be enough. Half a second away is not enough.

I knew they were all watching me, the engineers, the mechanics, the team principal.. They didn’t need to say anything. I could feel their disappointment as much as my own. But more than that, I could feel their sympathy, which somehow felt even worse.

I shook my head, trying to clear it as I unzipped my suit. I could feel the sweat clinging to my skin, the heat still radiating from my body. The car had been a beast out there, so close to perfection but betraying me when it mattered most. I glanced down at the Ferrari emblem on my chest, my fingers brushing over it. We should’ve had it today. It slipped away, and My jaw tightened, and I could feel my grip on the helmet hardening. A dull heat settled in my chest, like embers smoldering, waiting to ignite.

“Charles, you did your best” someone said, an engineer, I think. I nodded, forcing a small smile, but it didn’t reach my eyes. I couldn’t even fake it right now.

My eyes scanned the crowd, looking for Dafne. And there she was, walking toward me. She looked different now, not just because of the obvious, with her round belly that made my heart swell every time I saw it, but because she wasn’t the one in the suit, and wasn't stepping out of the car. She was on the other side of the barrier now, watching instead of driving.

I still saw it sometimes, the longuing in her eyes when she watched the cars line up on the grid. She never said it, but I knew it weighed on her, the thrill of racing just out of reach now. But seeing her here, waiting for me, with our son growing inside her, I felt a different kind of pull. Something deeper. She had sacrificed so much, and I hadn’t even brought home a win for her today.

When she reached me, she didn’t say a word, just wrapped her arms around me. I closed my eyes and rested my chin on her head, feeling the warmth of her body, the rhythm of her breathing. For a second, it was just us. No team, no podium, no race. Just Dafne and me.

“I’m sorry” I muttered into her hair.

I hated that I’d let her down.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Charles. You drove brilliantly.” she smiled, looking into my eyes.

Her voice was soft, full of that reassurance that I’d come to depend on. But I couldn’t shake the feeling gnawing at me. I wanted to be more than just brilliant. I wanted to win. For her, for our baby, for the team, for myself.

I sighed, feeling my frustration boiling under the surface. My hand instinctively rested on her belly, where our baby kicked gently. That always helped, always reminded me of the bigger picture, but today, the sting of losing was hard to push away.

“For you and the baby” I said, my voice barely a whisper. I hated how it sounded, like an apology for something I couldn’t control.

“We’re both so proud of you. There’ll be other races. You’ll get your win” her fingers caressed my cheek, soft but firm, and she smiled up at me, her eyes full of warmth.

I wanted to believe her, I really did. I nodded, but the smile didn’t feel right, as if it cracked on my lips. My stomach churned, twisting in ways no one could see. I’d been saying that to myself for years now. There’ll be other races. And there always were. But somehow, something always went wrong. Strategy. Tires. An unlucky safety car. And now, with the championship in mind, a fourth-place finish felt like a punch to the gut.

But Dafne…She never stopped believing. Even when I was down, when I couldn’t see the way forward, she did. She always had, even before we were together, back when we were just competitors and we hated the other, fighting for every tenth on the track.

I kissed her gently, just on the corner of her mouth, needing that small connection, rubbing soft circles over her belly.

“I hope so” I said, but it sounded fake to my own ears.

The paddock noise began to filter back in, the debrief looming ahead. I’d have to face the team, go through every lap, every corner, every tire strategy. It was the part I hated most after a tough race: the arguments, the what-ifs, the “if only we had…” moments that I knew would haunt me for the next few days.

I turned to walk toward the garage again, Dafne’s hand still in mine. I could feel the sweat starting to dry on my skin, the exhaustion creeping in, but there was no time to process it yet. The media would want their interviews, the engineers would want to go over the data, and I’d have to relive every second of the race.

But Dafne tugged on my hand, pulling me to a stop just before we reached the engineers waiting for me. I turned to look at her, and there was something in her eyes, something different. A fierceness, maybe. Determination.

“Charles” she said, her voice firm but gentle, smiling weakly at me. “You have to stop beating yourself up for things you can’t control.”

I blinked, taken aback by her words. It was like she had read my mind, peeled back the layers of frustration that were suffocating me.

“You drove your heart out today” she continued, her hand resting on my chest now, feeling the rapid beat of my heart. “And it’s okay to be disappointed. But you don’t have to carry it alone.”

I swallowed, my throat suddenly tight. I didn’t know what to say. She knew me so well, better than anyone. She knew how hard I was on myself, how I replayed every mistake, every missed opportunity over and over again in my head.

“I just… I wanted to win for you” I finally admitted, my voice cracking just a little, making me smile weakly while keeping her hand on my chest.

“For me?” She raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a soft smile. “Charles, I don’t need you to win for me. I need you to keep being the man you are, the one who never stops fighting, no matter what. That’s what matters.”

Her words hit me harder than I expected, a wave of emotion rolling through me. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close, pressing my forehead to hers. The sounds of the paddock faded once more, the pressure lifting just slightly.

“I love you” I whispered, the words coming easier now, settling deep in my chest.

“I love you too” she whispered back, her breath warm against my skin.

For a moment, we just stood there, holding each other as if the rest of the world had fallen away. The weight of the race, the disappointment, the frustration, it all seemed to fade away when I was with her.

But I couldn’t hide from the rest of the world forever. As much as I wanted to stay in that quiet moment with her, I knew I had to face the team.

“I have to go” I said quietly, nodding toward the garage after taking a deep breath.

“I know. I’ll wait around, I want to talk with Susie” she gave me a small smile, her fingers tightening around mine before letting go.

Those words meant everything. Knowing she’d be there waiting, that I wasn’t facing all of this alone. It gave me the strength to turn and walk toward the team of engineers and media waiting for me, the usual post-race chaos already waiting for me.

I moved my shoulders in circles, pushing the disappointment aside as much as I could, ready to face whatever came next.

The debrief was a blur of numbers, data, and what-ifs, just how I predicted. The strategy team was already analyzing every moment, trying to figure out where we had gone wrong.

The logical part of my brain understood everything they were saying, but the emotional part was still screaming that I should have found a way to make it work, no matter what.

I tried to stay focused, answering questions the interviewers made after the debrief session, offering my perspective, but my mind kept drifting back to Dafne. To her words.

After what felt like hours, the interviews finally came to an end. The engineers packed up their laptops, the garage started to empty, and the noise of the paddock began to quiet down.

I let out a long breath, running a hand through my sweaty hair. My body felt drained, my muscles aching from the tension of the race. All I wanted now was to get out of here, to leave the track behind for the night.

I walked through the door of the garage that led to the paddock, immediately finding Dafne sitting in one of the tables outside the Ferrari hospitality with her laptop in front of her and a hand rubbing her belly. When she saw me, her face lit up with that smile that made everything else seem like background noise.

I walked over to her, my pace slowing as I got closer. I hadn’t realized how much I needed to see her until this moment. She stood up when I reached her, and without thinking, I pulled her into my arms again, holding her tight.

“You okay?” she whispered against my ear.

“I will be” I whispered back, nodding against her neck.

“Let's get out of here” she smiled, holding my hand.

Waking up next to her always felt like a dream. Looking back in time, I can't believe that now it's normal for us to be in the same bed.

Six months ago I woke up next to her, but the aftermath of it was being shouted at by her and the heel of her shoe hitting the back of my head. But now, that moment was left in the past, and now Dafne is my girlfriend, the mother of my son.

I shifted closer, the warmth of her body radiating through the sheets. My hand slid over her belly, feeling the gentle flutter of kicks beneath her skin.

“Are you awake, Dorian?” I chuckled softly, closing my eyes.

“He's been awake for hours” Dafne groaned, placing her hand on top of mine, making me chuckle.

“Really?” I sighed, moving close to her belly and kissing it softly. “You should let your mom sleep, little one”

She chuckled, moving her hand to my hair and brushing it with her fingers. I looked up at her, pressing kisses on her belly and smiling.

“I already accept that this last trimester I will barely sleep” she sighed. “There are many things we have to do…”

didn’t need to say anything; I just held her, feeling Dorian’s tiny kicks against my palm, reminding me that everything was about to change.

She sighed and let me place my arm around her, pressing my chest against her back and my chin on her shoulder. This was like a ritual for us, holding each other before the day starts.

“I talked with Susie” she smiled. “We will have a meeting in a few weeks”

“That's amazing, love” I smiled, kissing her neck.

She smiled and played with the fingers of my hand, taking a deep breath.

“And… Well… The new house subject” she sighed.

“You want to talk about it?” I whisper.

“I think we have to talk about it, yeah” she sighed. “We can't wait until the last minute, Charles. At least… We should buy one and have everything ready for when Dorian comes… Right?”

I took a deep breath and sighed. I could see it in her eyes, she was clinging to every last moment with Athena, as if holding on could delay the inevitable. A part of me wished we could move forward, find the house and prepare for Dorian’s arrival. But how could I ask her to let go, when I wasn’t sure I could do the same if it were me? The veterinarian that sent us the results of the study said that it would happen anytime, because Athena was older than what Dafne thought.

“Okay” I whisper. “Where should we look, hm?”

“Near Maranello?” she whispered, looking back at me. “Somewhere that is close to your job, so you can be close home too”

“Yeah, I was going to say that too… I don't want to be away from home all the time, only when it is inevitable because of the races” I sighed. “But… What if in the future I leave Ferrari?”

“Would you?” She said surprised, making me chuckle and nod.

“I want to win a championship, Dafne” I whisper. “And if I can't do it with Ferrari, then I have to find a better team”

Somehow, saying those words didn't hurt. It felt right. Now this is the future, Dafne and Dorian are my future. I don't have to be loyal to Ferrari anymore, only to myself and my family.

“I will support you with any color you wear” she said. “No matter the team. I'll always wear number sixteen”

“God, I don't know what I did to deserve you” I smiled softly, kissing her shoulder multiple times. “I don't know what I did to deserve your forgiveness and then have your love… Really…”

“Easy, you knocked me up” she joked, making me laugh. “No, Charles… I… We always loved each other , that's all we need to know. And we were too childish to confront the reality”

“Yeah” I nodded.

She took a deep breath and turned around, slowly as lately, and I helped her. Dafne looked at me with her sleepy smile, placing her hand on my chest. I smiled looking down at her hand, watching the ring she never took off.

“Athena won't make it, you know?” she whispered, breaking the silence. “Last night Erica sent me a text”

“What?” I frowned, worried. “Dafne, why didn't you tell me…”

“I didn't want to worry you, Charles” she sighed. “And somehow, I accepted it already”

“What is happening with her?” I said, holding her hand.

“Erica said Athena stopped eating” she sighed. “And I'm sure she's searching for places to hide…”

“Oh, love” I sighed, hugging her tightly. “Do you want to go back home? And be with her?”

“I… Yeah” she nodded. “I wouldn't forgive myself if I'm not there for her”

“Okay” I sighed, kissing her forehead. “Then we should get ready, okay? Go take a shower while I reserve the jet and pack what's left on our suitcases”

“Thank you, Charlie” she whispered, sitting on the bed and getting out of it and going to the bathroom.

I sighed, biting my lip and grabbing my phone, immediately texting Erica.

Charles: Any news about Athena?

Erica: She told you?

Erica: She's… well, not eating.

Erica: I'm trying to give her wet food with a spoon, but she refuses to eat

Charles: Fuck… We are going to leave on a few hours

Erica: Okay, I'll text Soleil so she can go pick you two up

Charles: Thank you, Eri

Charles: But… What's should I do? For her?

Erica: Just be there for her, please. She might be smiling, but I'm sure she will be crying if you let her be alone for some seconds

“Fuck” I sighed, leaving the phone on the bed and looking at the bathroom door.

I got up and walked to the door, opening it slightly. My heart broke immediately when I saw her sitting on the toilet, with her phone in her hands while she looked at pictures in her phone.

“Oh, baby” I sighed, opening the door and walking in, kneeling in front of her.

“I’ll miss her,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “She’ll never meet Dorian, Charles.”

“I know, Dafne” I sighed. “I feel bad about it too, but… There's nothing we can do. We tried everything, right? The medicines are not working anymore and we can't keep sending her to the veterinarian, it's too expensive and she's suffering a lot of stress because of it. And I'm not complaining about the money, we have a lot of it, but…”

“But we are spending a lot, I know” she sighed, resting her head against mine. “I just… I wanted to try to make her life a little longer…”

“And we tried, but she's tired, Dafne” I whisper.

She nodded slowly and wrapped her arms around me, hiding her face on my neck. I smiled weakly, rubbing her back with my hand, trying to calm her.

“We’ll be there,” I whispered. “For Athena. For everything. Together.”

When we landed that day, Soleil came to pick us up at the airport, but she wasn't smiling. There were dark circles under her eyes, and she was yawning all the time.

I knew there was something wrong, and the moment Dafne squeezed my hand tight, I understood what was happening.

As soon as the car rolled to a stop inside the gates, Dafne was already halfway out, her movements rushed and unsteady. She barely waited for the car to be turned off completely before running toward the house, with her breath catching in the air. I followed her close, feeling my heartbeat drumming in my ears. Erica was in the living room, holding a cup of coffee between her hands, warming her palms.

“Where?” Dafne mumbled.

“This morning she went to the garden” Soleil said behind us.

I watched as Dafne took a deep, shaky breath, the hand that held her trembling as she placed it on the couch and the other one holding her belly . Her usual strength seemed to come down as she realized what’s coming next. I wanted to comfort her, to follow, but I knew she needed this moment alone, her last moments with Athena.

“How are you?” I asked Erica, sitting next to her.

“Tired… Sad” she sighed. “Athena is so important for Dafne, I don't even want to know how she's feeling right now”

“She's sad too” I sighed. “She wanted her to meet Dorian, that's the only thing she wanted”

“I know” Erica sighed.

“I think no one was ready for this” I smiled weakly. “I wanted Athena to meet Dorian too. I wanted my son to grow up with her and wanted to take many pictures of them cuddling. I never had a cat while growing up, and I never thought I ever wanted one… But when I met Athena, I loved her immediately”

“Everyone goes through that” Soleil sighed. “I'm glad Dafne brought her home, that she came home with a cat”

“Yeah…” I nodded.

I took a deep breath, looking at the backyard door and sighed, placing my hands on my knees to impulse myself to get up. I walked out towards the garden, finding Dafne sitting on the grass, looking at the flowers that grew there.

“Dafne” I said softly, standing behind her.

“She's…” she mumbled. “Sit next to me, please…”

I sighed, blinking hard to stop the tears from falling. Dafne was holding her cat in her lap, with the crochet jacket she was wearing wrapped around the small weak body of her cat.

“She's still breathing…” she sighed, leaning on me when I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, holding her close.

“She was waiting for you” I whisper, pressing my lips on her temple.

“Yeah…”

We sat in silence, the garden air still and heavy, as Athena’s tiny body rose and fell slower with each breath. The scent of earth and flowers lingered, but the world felt distant, as if time was standing still.Her once bright blue eyes were looking at us, somehow telling us that everything was going to be okay.

“I think she knew we were waiting for her” she whispered, rubbing her thumb over the pink nose of Athena. “That we were waiting to find a home for us. I think… I think she knew it was her time to leave, huh?”

“Athena was more than amazing, wasn’t she?” I whispered. “She was with you through everything, your shadow, your comfort, your constant. And somehow, I think she knew it was time to let go… she knew you had a new life to care for, but she helped guide you here. Guide you to us…”

“You think so?”

“I do” I whispered. “You took care of her during all this time, taking her to the vet whenever she was sick. I think pets are with us for a reason. I think something, a God or whatever you want to call it, put her in your way to lead you to this moment. To lead you to us, to our baby”

She gasped softly as Athena’s breathing slowed, then stopped. I held her close to me, feeling how her body started to shake with her soft cries while she hugged the cat between us. The tears came, hot and heavy, as I held Dafne close. Athena had been with her for so long, a bridge between the past and this new life we were stepping into. Now, as her breath stopped, it felt like one chapter closed, and another quietly began.

dafnemorelli

liked by charles_leclerc, ericamorelli, soleil_morelli and 792.579 others

dafnemorelli Ten years ago I was doing voluntary service in a shelter near Florence with the Prema team while recording a challenge. In that place, I met many dogs and cats, but only one of them stole my heart.

Athena came to my life when I needed her, right after my grandma passed away, and she has been with me since then. She cuddled me when I felt down and always welcomed me home whenever I came home after a race. She was like a daughter to me, and I thank her for everything she did.

People say that pets come and go into our life for a reason. Athena came to my life to help me go through the loss of someone important to me and stayed with me to teach me how to be a mother, how to take care of someone else, animal or human. When Charles came into my life as my lover and we knew about the existence of our son, Athena knew that it was her time to leave, because she knew that I wasn't alone anymore.

My little baby left this world yesterday's evening, and now she's sleeping finally in peace between the flowers of my garden, her favorite spot in the world. Charles and I are immensely sad because of this, but we know that she will be with us, taking care of us and our baby.

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charles_leclerc

liked by dafnemorelli, arthur_lecler, violetsinclair and 829.461 others

charles_leclerc This morning, after what happened yesterday, we made a small grave in the backyard for the most amazing cat I ever met. After that, I went to the city because I wanted to give Dafne a small gift.

I told Dafne I was going to a meeting in Maranello, and since her sisters were at home too, I knew she would be in good hands. So, with that, I grabbed the keys of my car and drove to Florence. At night, I was searching for a place to get the gift, and when I found it, I knew I had to go.

I cut some hairs from Athena and saved them in a little bag, keeping it in my wallet. And now those hairs are inside of the necklace I bought her, to keep Athena close to Dafne's heart.

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taglist

@elisysd @alltoomaples @ssprayberrythings @rach3164 @yvonne-dump @deliciousfestsalad @janeh22 @hc-dutch @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @ssararuffoni @itsjustkhaos @scaramou @tapedeck-hearts @sltwins @glitterquadricorn @ladystardust05 @theseerbetweenus @vizzzashley @auawdo @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @leptitlu @green-thots @caterinemirandax_ @mid5nights @harrysdimple05 @nofingjustaninchident @mendes-bae

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esggs · 20 hours

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swipe that nose like a credit card – Higuruma Hiromi

[softdom! reader x sub!Hiromi, 650+ words, smut/fluff, cunnilingus, mentions of bj, body insecurities, soothing said insecurities, please I love people with big noses]

You move your hips from his face to your new seat, his chest. Hiromi, lips suddenly detached from your clit, looks up, sweating, panting, blushing, and confused.

“Are you too tired, handsome?” What? Hiromi’s brows curl with dismay. Has he not been pleasing you well enough?

His words come between breathless heaves (he’s spent a decent amount of time buried under your cunt by now). “Am I doing something wrong, ma’am? Tell me.” His hands try to pull your plump ass onto his wet chin again. But from the look on your face he quits immediately. “Please?”

“Have you forgotten?” Leaning down to him, you let him bury his face into your boobs, squeezing and sucking, how lucky he is. You can barely hear his muffled voice: “Please tell me, ma’am, I’ll please you as you wish.”

He needs punishing. His paradise of boobs cruelly leaves him as you lean back again, even though his hands remain cupping your tits. To be fair, it’s not as if anything more than cloudy lust fills his head right now, you can’t really blame him for not remembering. Your hands tighten in his hair till he’s moaning from the pain and humping up into the air.

You run your wet tongue up the bridge of his strong nose. “Shouldn’t this be fucking into my pussy? How could you make such a mistake, pretty face?”

He gulps and nods. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’ll do better this time.”

“My sweet love,” you praise him as he softly nips the insides of your thighs, sinking two fingers into your cunt, the stretch slow and delicious. He pulls your hips to hover just above his trembling tongue, awaiting further kind words before he pushes heaven up into you. “Love you, Hiromi. You’re perfect, aren’t you, baby boy?”

His fingers part inside your hole, leaving a space for his tongue to lick inside for a moment, collecting your nectar-slick, before drawing them to massage your clit with. You jolt at the sweet sting, his broad hands keeping you locked onto his face, the light stubble of his jaw grazing your delicate skin. Hiromi works up wave upon wave of sharp pleasure till you break. Till you fully take control. Till you grab him down by the hair and are riding your orgasm out on his nose.

“Use me, ma’am.” He groans out, barely an inch from cumming himself watching your boobs bounce, your face twisted, lost in the way his broad nose grinds against your swollen clit again and again and again.

You cry out when you reach your high, your cum dripping over his nose, lips and cheeks. If he tries to sneak a taste with his tongue, you don’t notice. You gently climb down from his face when you’re fully done.

“You know, babe, I was so insecure about my nose back in school.” Hiromi laughs tiredly. A warm towel in your hand, you clean him up, lots of kisses and praise peppered in between. His cock will be sucked off in a bit, if he so wishes, and his arms will be cuddling you to a deep sleep soon. “My friends made fun of me, say it’s too big, you know? That was just how it was like back then. To think you love it so much now…”

You trace the bridge of his carved aquiline nose. Some idiots made fun of this? “I’ll beat your friends up, okay? They don’t know shit about anything. It is big, I don’t know anything about ‘too big’. And thank God that it’s big, because it fits your face perfectly–”

“– and your pussy too.”

“I’m trying to be sweet, Hiromi. Your nose is great because it’s your nose. Nothing more or less than that. Everything on your face, regardless of what other idiots think, is beautiful because it’s you. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” he laughs again as you playfully bite his ear. “You love my nose, got it.”

masterlist

a/n: i was lazing in bed not wanting to get up and then i thought 'i can write higuruma getting bossed around' and i immediately got up.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk fluff #jjk smut #higuruma hiromi #jjk higuruma #higuruma x reader #hiromi jjk #hiromi x reader #hiromi higa #jjk fanart #jjk x reader #jjk spoilers #hiromi higuruma #higuruma smut #higuruma jjk #jujutsu kaisen higuruma #higuruma x you #jjk kusakabe

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maxwell-grant · 2 days

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The Penguin: Episode 1 Breakdown

Thank you Lauren LeFranc, Mike Marino, Colin Farrell and Matt Reeves, we owe you the world for this, good God. It's finally here everyone and I've decided I'm gonna give each episode it's own post/breakdown of thoughts, because hahaha holy shit you guys this is beyond what I even dreamed of, and we're gonna be covering this for a while I think. I've worked out enough madness about this out of my system by talking with friends and I can't seem to be able to work on anything else till I get this done, so let's do it.

Bottom line: This isn't even just a must-watch if you like the Penguin or if you like The Batman, this is something I'd recommend to just about anyone in a heartbeat, something I can point to when people ask "why do you like The Penguin so much" and, instead of the elaborate nerd ramble that usually turns them off, I can just tell them to watch this. A friend of mine (who already loves Batman and digs the Penguin quite a bit) even told me as much, that he's starting to get why I love the character so much, and truly, is there a better feeling than this? Well, there is, and it's watching the show. Let's dig into this first episode:

Right upfront I'm gonna say that this doesn't really seem to be the Sopranos rip-off that people have been calling it before release, although there are definitely Sopranos comparisons to make here. I've spent the past months finally watching The Sopranos in order to get the comparison and definitely want to talk about those comparisons after I finish it (and this show ends). This thing aims to stand on it's own legs as a crime show and it's smashing out of the gate with an extremely promising first episode.

So this just casually opens with the reveal that all along, there was a second rich Gotham the whole time that was completely unaffected by everything we saw in the movie, already throwing a great twist on the events of that movie, and further reinforcing how fucking full of shit The Riddler was. All we saw Batman and the others deal with in the movie was just affecting the poorer parts of the city. All Eddie did was drown rats, and make life worse for the people already in the bottom, while never even getting close to targeting the systemic rot that ruined his life. He retains ideological worshippers in subways obsessed with the corruption of the city without doing anything to actually improve it, and because of him, the streets of Gotham are waterlogged shitholes while the rich Falcone suburbs are doing just fine, peachy even.

I said a while back that, in spite of having about 6 scenes/10 minutes of Penguin runtime, The Batman managed to squeeze impeccably controlled Penguin Trademark Scenes, and this show opens with the last one they didn't get to then: Penguin killing someone for making fun of him. In the movie, he tries doing that with Falcone and is beaten to the punch, so here he gets to actually do it to disastrous consequences.

Fucking adore that the inciting incident of the show is based on the fallout of Oswald killing someone for making fun of him. He pours his heart about the dream he lives his life for, his new boss makes fun of him for being an embarassment to their profession and then he does the most typical Penguin thing by killing him for it and laughing afterwards. And then he realizes how badly he fucked up, and then we get a fucking perfect titledrop with his musical theme, the exact moment we finish The Batman and enter The Penguin.

God it is so fucking cool how the make-up/lighting, the scar across his face, makes it look like he's got a genuine beak from certain angles, how they're able to achieve that effect without giving him a more literal beak for a nose. Everytime they talk about the character, Reeves and Farrell always emphasize how integral the make-up was to them figuring out what to do with Oz, how little they knew what to make of his six scenes until Marino created their monster and suddenly everything fell into place. Mike Marino fully deserves co-credit for the creation of Oz.

Pretty amusing that Victor, as designed to be Penguin's Robin, has exactly the same origin as Jason Todd, a poor street kid trying to steal the hubcaps off the Penguinmobile (I'm sure this bodes very well for his odds at survival), as is the way in which Oz goes on about his recruitment. He press-gangs this kid at gunpoint to help him bury a body arguing with himself and eventually the kid why shouldn't he just kill him to be safe, while trying to impress the kid with his car and air freshener and later that bullshit about "What, you think I hire any schmuck off the street?". From the tile drop onwards, he's doing everything on the fly while also spinning long-term plans set in motion as soon as he's on screen, he's taking this kid in out of sympathy and because he enjoys a power dynamic over someone weaker than him and because he very much needs someone to help him get stuff done. I'm extremely interested in exploring Penguin having a mentorship dynamic and I'm beyond curious as to what happens with Victor from this point onwards, but that poor kid is in for a terrible fucking time.

Found it very funny how much he half-asses the murder threat to Victor. Like it's his first time actually doing it and he's trying to be serious, but not too scary because he's already seeing himself in the poor kid with a stutter and wants the kid to think he's also a cool guy like he wants everyone to think he's a cool guy. I also think having Victor as the POV helps to sell moments like these, because it's still terrifying to him. Even as we follow their stories, these power players of Gotham are still big scary monsters to people caught in the dregs and Victor helps to reinforce that.

I enjoy Oz being friends with sex workers and drag queens off the street as much as I enjoy Oz being depicted as the kind of guy who deludes himself into thinking the prostitute he's with actually likes him, Lauren and Farrell launched into a bit about in on the podcast and I'm curious to see what's going on with him and Eve here.

Lots of perfect funny little character moments across the whole thing. Oz insulted by the idea of taking extra pickles off a poor kid's dirty mouth, but with zero hesitation whatsoever for picking jewelry off his boss' corpse. Dude is governed by principles even as he actively has to break them to survive.

"Technically it's plum." "He is the - or was the - new kingpin", "He's got nurse-like qualities." The show is not overtly trying to get you to find Penguin likeable as much as it wants you to find him engaging - making you think he's likeable is Colin Farrell's job and he's masterful at it, definitely a lot more matured within the character compared to the movie.

If there's anything in particular I'm thankful for regarding Gotham (well okay Gotham led directly to Telltale Penguin which was the basis for this one, so really I do have a lot more to be thankful with Gotham), it's the decision to give him a legit waddle via the broken foot, but the way they incorporate it here with the club foot does so much for him, so much as a modern day reinvention of The Penguin. Adds so much to why he's never been a serious candidate for mob leadership, why he kinda had to spend all his time in the Lounge, why he actually needs someone to help him run affairs, why he has such a gaping ego wound and is so murderously angry at people making fun of him / calling him a goddamn penguin, adds so much validation and so much darkness and nuance to Oswald's overwhelming anger and bitterness over how the world treats him (and so much power should he opt to reclaim it, in turn). It's the kind of thing that frankly feels like it should have always been part of the character, like what all the previous versions were itching closer to or trying to get at. Of course this is a guy gets called a penguin and he hates it badly enough to murder people over it, of course.

This gets to really highlight how differently Oz acts depending on who he's with. Traditionally, one of my favorite things about The Penguin, and one of the things that puts him above the other villains, is that, due to his position, he has to interact with a lot more people than the other Bat-villains. He has to manage a lot more relationships and dynamics, he has to play peacekeeper and puppetmaster. he's the only one in the United Underworld who's regularly interacting with and recruiting other villains to do business with. He's the guy who you pin stuff on like the Gangland Guardians, Team Penguin, doing betting pools with the Rogues taking cover in his Lounge while Joker War is happening, having to rig games to keep good standing with Maxie Zeus and Frenchy Blake in Batman Audio Adventures, and so on. So I greatly enjoy this beat here of him talking about how makes himself smaller before the Falcones, and that moment of him adjusting his outfit and practicing expressions in the mirror before meeting with them. How he contorts himself is present in all of his relationships, and retroactively adds to the way he carries himself in The Batman.

It seems that Oz is functionally regarded as the Paulie Walnuts of the Falcones: useful muscle, loyal for the most part and amusing to keep around, but largely an unstable self-serving dumb asskisser kept where he belongs, a liability if not kept on a short leash. I think the show does a good job of highlighting all the reasons why Oz has never been seriously regarded as a viable option for a boss, even putting aside his disability. He is a fundamentally embarassing person for these serious respectable criminals to be around and of course, the joke is ultimately on them..

Of course, there is only two people in the show who actually know what he's capable of, Francis Cobb and Sofia Falcone, said to be the central relationships defining the show moving forward. Both of them also a defining commonality with Oswald, being people who are looked down on and dehumanized, and characters who are underestimated until it's time to bear their fangs.

Extremely invested in where they're going with Sofia Falcone, Cristine Milioti's been killing it, and will in fact not stop killing it. What a perfect villain for Penguin they've set up with her, someone who has his Kryptonite: she does not underestimate him. Although we know in advance that Oz is going to live and be in the next movie, the question here isn't even so much who's going to win the gang war, and rather how much damage these two freaks will do to the city until Batman gets back. In many ways, Sofia represents the shape of things to come just as much as he does.

She is this embodiment of both the pristine unfathomable wealth and privilege and power that he both detests and strives for, as well as this brutal new breed of madness and violence attacking the streets that he has to survive against and make deals with (and is himself very much a part of, however he denies it). She is Falcone's legacy in every way that matters, both a Kingpin of Gotham whose existence creates the oppressive conditions under which a Batman or a Riddler are created, as well as the Arkham Rogue, the larger-than-life sadist with a tragic origin and a signature torture-murder method and an embarassing name for the papers.

Even the fact that she is The Hangman, and Carmine was defined around his penchant for brutally strangling women - regardless of whether or not she did the crimes that got her in Arkham, she's become this larger-than-life themed expression of a violent obsession in a way that sets her up as every bit the Batman villain that The Penguin is. The two champions of the two Gothams, duking it out in this new world The Batman and The Riddler made, The Penguin vs The Hangman.

I am so glad Lauren LeFranc made the call for binning Alberto in the first five minutes so the rest of the show can focus on Sofia and make a real character out of her in a way nobody's ever really done before, every step of the way so far LeFranc has been perfectly on the ball about where to take these characters and their conflict. And speaking of those,

I feel very confident in saying that this is the first time anyone's ever really had something worth doing with Oswald's mother as a character in her own right and not just a source of anguish for Penguin (Gotham was almost onto something with Gertrude, but not nearly enough). When it comes to Penguin origin stories, my favorite's always been the Pre-Crisis one, where he's poor and bullied but happy with his mom and birds until she dies and the government seizes everything he has, which doesn't necessarily involve her much. But here? Francine Cobb is a real character in what little time we get to know her, and what a character she is. We quickly understand the role she's playing in Oz's life, not just as his mom and person he loves and strives to protect, but the person who's sculpting him into the man he's going to become.

She is vulnerable and she does need meds and she's not quite all there, and Penguin's need to care for her is visible in other actions of his. But then they turn it around by showing how strong and demanding she is, how she is fiercely ambitious and pushing him to be something he would otherwise not be, how much she loves him and sees greatness in him. She knows he's a people pleaser, she knows how to push his buttons, and she wants him to be more, so of course he's going to be more, because he lives to please his mom.

Related to this is this absolute bullseye of a summation of The Penguin, that Lauren LeFranc delivered in the podcast: "Perhaps his greatest fear is that love is transactional. And that yet, everything he does, every decision he makes, is as if that's true. As if "love is transactional" is a truth he abides by". Oswald's conception of power is being loved and revered like Rex Calabrese, and the love he wants most in all the world is the one from his mother. So in turn this, and all extensions of it, drive him to greater and darker lengths.

He doesn't have that ambition quite down yet, it's his mom that does. She who's pushing him to take over the city and not just be a guy scraping by for survival. He's smart and ambitious and extremely good at slipping out of trouble, but she's pushing him to be the guy who will be taking the city by the horns because that's what he has to be for their sake. Her legacy to her son is nurturing him having that dog in him that will make him the supervillain who picks fights with Vengeance. She is the force that's turning Oswald into The Goddamn Penguin and I can't wait to see how she's developed.

Of course he reprimands Victor in that scene for lacking ambition, who do you think he gets it from?

Really love what they've done with Sal Maroni in here so far. I like adaptations that take these throwaway Batman backstory gangsters and make something out of them, in this case, with Clancy Brown lending his power and voice and reputation as The Grand Boss of Villainy to play the last Respectable Gangster of Gotham, this intimidating principled old tiger who's inversely proportional to how much of a petty and scummy piece of shit Carmine Falcone was. Extremely a guy I'd want to see playing a hand in the creation of Two-Face. Just as crucial is the fact that he is the one who gets the most effortlessly outplayed by Oz here, because this is The Penguin Show: no room for traditional or respectable gangsters anymore, their purpose is to be crapped all over by our wacko birdman.

There's a lot about this that re-contextualizes his behavior in The Batman and the one I'm gonna point out is: even though he can't be sure his plan didn't completely go to shit, he is still keeping his wits and not being terribly scared about being beaten up and tortured and staring down the scariest Falcone with a gun shoved in his throat. But he craps his pants at the sight of the Batmobile. He gets pain, he gets indignity, but he doesn't get Vengeance, what kind of sick freak would come up with the stuff that guy does. A gun in his mouth and Falcone torture is just Tuesday, but a car that wants to eat his soul is some psycho shit he's just not ready to deal with.

It is the delicious tasty fucking irony that Oswald thinks Vengeance is this weird freak who doesn't play or bend to any rules and is here to fuck up everything, just like the madman who flooded the city, and thinks of himself in turn as a justifiable guy standing for the respectable old-fashioned empathetic way of doing things, instead of the exact same thing that Riddler and Batman are. Only Sofia gets what he really is, the same thing as her, and that's why she is the arch-enemy / the biggest thing he's gotta defeat in life for now.

God, how fucking PERFECT it is that he gets caught and tortured because he, after stabbing out a man's eye and causing him to get run over by a schoolbus, stops to wave at the kids in that schoolbus while covered in blood. Just the Rex Calabrese of it all, the self-image, this guy who's both a mean nasty son of a bitch and also a real bleeding heart softie and in ways that ruin his life and allow him to slip and wriggle his way out of shit he has no right to, as demonstrated by the finale.

Thinking about Sofia chastizing Oz saying he thinks she is a toy to play with, while rattling off the ways in which she owns him and everything he has, all the ridiculous little accessories her daddy let him play him, and he in turn is a ridiculous little accessory for the family she is twisting until it breaks. Perfect fucking villain for him. Can't wait to see how badly these two are gonna burn Gotham.

I knew deep in my heart that all I wanted out of a Penguin show, the thing that I simply needed to have in it, was Penguin pulling a heist set-up in advance, and it fucking delivered. He doesn't even complain at Victor for being late, because if anything, getting captured and tortured while the car crashed was even better for him. No, he complains at Victor for not being sufficiently gruesome with the body. See, unlike other cowardly anti-hero reinventions of Bat-villains, the show never wants you to forget that Oz is a weird freak and a disgusting piece of shit, even if he is a very likeable and even aspirational one. Only by the most random stroke of fate it wasn't Victor that he fed to the wolves at that moment, that he sees himself in the kid isn't exactly ensuring that he's gonna make out of this in one piece.

Mr. Vengeance gets Nirvana, and Mr. Boniface gets Dolly Parton, perfect credits.

In conclusion: Out of everything they could have done following the thunderous success of The Batman and it's ensuing influence over the DCU, out of all the offers Reeves must have gotten to helm their new universe after delivering a megahit reinvention of their breadwinner blockbuster character, Matt Reeves went "Nah, I listened to my crew, and what we really want to do is 8 hours of television about the waddling freak who's in my movie for 10 minutes", and he and his crew deserve the world for that. I dreamed as a kid of getting to make a big Penguin story or show, a wild impossible idea that would never actually happen, and now it's here and it's better than anything I'd ever imagined.

I'm fit to burst with joy and riding a high of no longer having to hunt for scraps and washing away decades of put-downs for the character and enjoying a Penguin renaissance like one I never imagined happening. I am extremely not an unbiased reviewer here, this show rules and I've waited for it since I was a kid and it's here, drink it the fuck in cause it's only the beginning.

#dc comics #dc #the penguin #penguin #oswald cobblepot #oswald cobb #hbo #max #the penguin hbo #matt reeves #lauren lefranc #mike marino #colin farrell

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